#she walks around with her hammer ON HER AT ALL TIMES WITH THE NAILS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

courtingchaos · 8 months

Note

Ok, i thought i'd give you a few options.

Having to fuck your way out of a speeding ticket or a possession charge or something with gator

flashing Steve on a dare at a party because boobies

Eddie being a clueless, naive knob when his crush comes on to him in increasingly obvious and suggestive ways and he just can't put two and two together until she's forced to grab him and be like, hi. hello. I'm trying to fuck you here. please compute.

Sorry if these seem stale. I'm not the most creative and they're all smut because I'm a degenerate too. Love your writing :)

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

A record store meet-cute with Indiana’s most oblivious guitarist.

Warnings: Blow job and fingering, that’s it that’s all have fun.

A/N: Okay look, for one? Not stale at all. Also, degeneracy supremacy for all. This did the trick and in fact I also wrote the Gator prompt too because that was fun. However Steven eludes me lately so while I wanted to make all the dreams come true, alas I could not. These might not be exactly what you were aiming for? But there’s smut? And they’re fun? Meh, thank you for sending these in friend! Also I think I inadvertently channeled my dearest @chestylarouxx with this one so you know it’s gotta be good.

Gator will get posted separately.

18 + NSFW No Minors

He’s in the store all the time, always on your shift and usually finding you with whatever question he has like when he can’t find a new release or someone has misfiled a vinyl. He asks your opinion on the new releases and laughs when you roll your eyes, a scoff thrown at a new Madonna single. He’ll give you a shocked look when you tell him that you do in fact like Heart and also when you try to explain the shared root between his beloved thrash and the current punk scene.

Despite his affection for arguments with you he persists with toothy grins and a constant promise to ‘show you some real music’ sometime. There’s an undercurrent with your conversations, a feeling of flirting, like when he pulls that chunk of hair across his face while he tells you about his band. He gets bashful when you show interest and ask if it’d be cool if you went and all you can imagine is that dark hallway in the back of the bar and what he might look like under that dimming, yellowing light. It earns you a short nod and one of those smiles, lips tight over his teeth while his dimples dig craters into his pink cheeks. He says he’d love it. Says he can’t wait to see you. Says he’ll let the guys know they’ve got a number one fan now.

So when you get to the end of said night, after the fairly big crowd and all his other friends have filtered out, after his band has almost put up most of the equipment, after he’s collected their cut of the entry fees, you linger. Sitting at the end of the bar with your beer that you’ve been nervously picking the label off of for 20 minutes, waiting on him to make his way over. He taps the bar top and thanks the owner and starts his meandering walk toward you, counting back ones from the roll in a practiced hand. He looks like all the little daydreams you’ve had while watching him wander around the record store, dark hair damp from sweat and curling around his ears. His thin tee clings to him like his jeans cling to him and your heart hammers at the thought of pulling him back those few feet into that blessed, dingy hallway.

“You guys put on a hell of a show.”

“Oh you think so?” He looks up from his money and grins at you, the only girl in the room it would seem. You nod and laugh and start to pluck up your courage when one of the waitresses walks out of the back and squeals before grabbing his bicep and squeezing.

“Oh my god Eddie! You did so good tonight!” You can see her nails pressing into his skin and how his cheeks flame at her praise and suddenly you think you maybe misread this whole thing. “I told you there were gonna be more people this weekend!” She pulls him down and into her space, her nose scrunched up with a big smile for him.

“Thanks Vic.”

“I told you Robin would work miracles with those posters.” She gives him a final squeeze and gets back behind the bar to tie her apron on. He watches her walk down the bar until she takes an order and his gaze slides back to you, a little sheepish.

“Sorry about that.” He shoves the wad of cash in his front pocket and leans on the bar next to you. “You enjoyed it though?” He gives you a wide eyed look, anticipation rounding out his bambi eyes.

“Yeah.” It comes out more clipped than you meant so you clear your throat and direct your gaze back at your peeled Budweiser label. “Yeah, exactly like you said it would be.” A wide smile that you don’t let hit your eyes. Eddie shifts a little, his demeanor softer than it was before, his post show swagger gone when he tilts his head down to try and catch your eyes glued to your bottle.

“You sure? You just seem-“

“I-I’m sorry, it’s actually just-before I came out tonight I found out I need to open so.” You rush it out at him, glancing at your watch and never once noticing the actual time. “I didn’t want to just leave, but I gotta get going I’m sorry.” You shrug at him, half apologetic while you dig a five out of your wallet and toss it on the bar. “Hopefully I’ll see you on Tuesday though? Souls of Black is coming out!” You toss that over your shoulder to give your abrupt departure a bit of a softer hit. Eddie yells something after you that you pointedly ignore and you try your hardest to not kick the door open into the muggy night.

Tuesday morning and you pull a cassette from the display to hold on to. Not like it’s flying out the door but you know Eddie will beeline for you first thing, no matter what far corner of the store you’re occupying. You keep it tucked into one of the pockets on your half apron so you don’t forget it and so you can pull a magic trick when he inevitably comes up and asks you even though he walked by the display.

Noon rolls by and you see nary a curl come through the front door. By 2 you’re hanging out at the register, a permanent fixture there while your coworker takes advantage of your fixation and putzes around in the back. At 4 you contemplate calling the police because this is the most strange behavior you’ve witnessed from Hawkins’s residential Weirdo and at 6, when you flip the sign over to tell everyone you’re closed, you start to think you might have fucked up. Carla, your coworker, reminds you of the cassette in your packet when you toss your apron at the register. A little crease between her eyebrows when she asks, “That for Eddie?”

“Yeah, I was gonna be funny and tell him I could pull stuff out of my ass.” You tell her with a dry laugh and stash the tape under the counter.

“He never misses a Tuesday.”

“Yeah, well, first time for everything.” You shrug.

5 PM Wednesday night brings a rainstorm to downtown and a drowning rat in the form of a drenched Eddie into your store. He shakes off like a Labrador in the doorway and grumbles when he has to peel his jacket off his clammy arms.

“Hey stranger.” You say behind a pop of your gum. Barely looking up from the rolling stone you’re reading when he stomps over to the new releases.

“You’re shitting me.”

“What?”

“There’s no god damn way a Testament album sold out in Hawkins.” He throws his arms up dramatically and lets them slap down onto his damp jeans. Again you barely look when you pick up the stashed tape and hold it aloft, waiting for him to finally turn around and see. “What, did Gareth come in here first and snag the only copy or something?” He snaps cases together angrily while he shifts through them and you almost tell him to quit pitching a fit but it’s a little fun watching him dripping all over the linoleum. His hair clings to his neck, his white ringer tee see through over his shoulder where the rain got in under his collar. You spare a moment to think about what the rain must taste like on him.

“Eddie.”

“Seriously! First my piece of shit van didn’t start yesterday again so I was late to the shop which in turn meant I didn’t get over here.”

“Ed.”

“And then this fucking storm shows up out of fucking nowhere and I’m fucking soaked and I don’t have my fucking tape-oh.” He turns, fist clenched in front of him like he’s tearing at invisible threads, and stops mid rant when he sees the rectangle in your hand. “Oh hello gorgeous.” He looks like he’s in love and he holds out his hands towards you, grasping your fist in both of his to gently shake it. You laugh at his dramatics and let out a yell when he hops onto the counter, ass planted directly on your magazine you were staring through.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world you know that?”

“I have that effect on a lot of guys.” A buff of your nails against your collar and Eddie huffs. He pulls his shoulders in and gives you a side eye that feels a little personal for a second.

“Well alright, statement still stands.” He reads the track list on the back, a slight squint of his eyes and you wonder briefly if he needs glasses. “You listen to it yet?”

“Psh, no.”

“Why not?”

Well, you’d had a plan since the terrible show night and you stomping out of there with your feelings hurt over nothing.

“No one else I know listens to them, thought you’d maybe like to listen to it together?” This is the most courage you’ve ever had, you think as you look up at him through your lashes. “It’s not like a big deal or anything but-“

“Can I borrow your phone?”

“What?”

“I mean yeah, obviously I’d love to listen together but I need to make a call first.” He flashes you that big smile again and you hand the store receiver over. That nervous knot that had begun to form in your stomach is all but gone with his revelation:

Obviously he’d love that.

Obviously! It’s been so obvious right? He’s your number one customer, he’d walked right for you in the bar, and now he’s vehemently agreeing to listening to this album with you, giddy with excitement.

“Hey! Jeff! Put your dick away we’re coming over.”

Jeff? Jeff his guitarist?

“No, I’m at the record shop I got it! Yeah, yeah she’s a real sweetheart she held a copy for me.” Eddie rolls his head to face you and gives you a wink. “I know, she’s the best right?”

Fucking Jeff? You stare at Eddie, dumbfounded, yet again questioning how you keep reading this man wrong. What part of ‘do you want to listen together’ qualified a third party?

“Yeah, we’ll be over after close.” Eddie hands you the phone to hang up and you go through the motions, turning your body away to stare at a spot on the counter so you can frown deeply without him noticing.

“This is gonna be great.” He claps his hands together before hopping down off the counter and pulling his wallet out to pay. “I can finally smoke you out like I’ve been promising.” He wiggles his eyebrows like he’s some kind of cartoon wolf and you feel like you’ve missed a step on the stairs. What is he doing? Is this flirting? Does he use Jeff as a pawn in his games or is he just not picking up what your putting down?

“Yeah, it’ll be great, can’t wait.”

The hang out at Jeff’s wasn’t awkward but you think something is broken in your brain with how off the mark you seem to be.

You’d been aloof with Eddie when he’d first started hanging around you in the shop, not sure how to take his overly forward approach but he’d grown on you quick and the banter was good. He lobbed the conversation back and forth with you with practiced ease and really it was destined for you to find him charming. With his dimples and his music taste and his tattoos it was inevitable that you’d spend your afternoons shooting glances out the window, waiting for him to breeze in with a joke or another long winded story that he’d loose the thread for halfway through. He’d apologize and you’d laugh and sometimes he’d blush at you and that feeling that you thought was there?

Maybe it wasn’t.

You weren’t being particularly subtle with him. Friendly flirting it may be but your touches always lingered longer on his forearm, your lashes always fluttered at his nicknames and your giggles were sprinkled freely for him through his visits. Standard faire ‘come get me, I’m yours’.

Once again at work, mindlessly alphabetizing and sending yourself into a doom spiral you hear the bell above the door ring and a quick glance up makes you pause.

It’s the whole band this time, Eddie in the lead and heading straight for you.

“What now?”

He stops in his tracks, hand flying to his chest in mock affront. “To your favorite customer?!”

Jeff snorts and Gareth and Frank roll their eyes and immediately wander off to the record bins.

“You come in here with a purpose, I need to brace myself.”

“It’s not even for me!” Eddie whines and leans on your cart full of tapes. His rings clack against the plastic casings and catch the overhead lighting, distracting you for a second. “It’s for Gareth, we need to know what you have for a Jazz section.”

“Jazz?” These men confuse you with every new turn. Gareth has already found what he was looking for though, sitting on the floor and flipping through aging cardboard sleeves.

“What does he know about Jazz?” You ask Eddie when he wanders back over with you.

“Oh he was the drummer for the jazz band in high school, you don’t remember that?”

“No, I wasn’t in band.”

“Ah.” He’s leaning on the fixture you need to reorganize but you don’t want to ask him to move, the sunlight shining in at just the right angle to light up his features. You could kick yourself with how enamored you sound, especially when he seems to be woefully uninterested in you and your flirting.

“Hey Eddie?”

“Hm?” He turns to look at you over his shoulder, brown hair gleaming like satin in the sun. His eyebrows hitch up and he tucks his lip between his teeth to worry at it. A thousand little fantasies about that lip glide through your thoughts and you decide to give it one last go.

“Would you like to go out for a drink sometime?”

His lashes flutter at you while he processes your question, his guard down with no witty response lined up.

“Oh like…like w-when?” He’s not meeting your eyes anymore, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. He shifts back to lean his weight on his other leg and leans away. He clams up and distances himself. “Because we’re free tonight after you close, but I know it’s a week night and you might be busy or whatever.” He cocks his head over to the other three grouped around the record crates and you realize it finally.

He’s letting you down soft. He doesn’t hate you, at least there’s that. He’d like to hang out sure, but there isn’t a romantic undercurrent like you’ve been imagining.

“Uh, yeah, tonight works.” You shrug and turn off your emotions. There was a brief prickle of heat behind your eyeballs but you stomp your foot down on that, converse pinning that feeling down like a moth in a frame. “Whenever though, I don’t want to interrupt your plans.” That roiling in your gut squirms under the pinprick and finally stills and you make sure your smile reaches your eyes this time. Eddie agrees and tells the guys and when they’re all standing at the register to check out you keep your cool. The countdown begins when you start typing in the prices, just ten more minutes before they’re on their way out and you can stand in the back and cry. You think about Carla giving you that sad little look and you know it’ll be a waterfall for sure.

“What fresh hell-“ Eddie yells and pushes the door open, red and blue lights flashing for a second before the cruiser engine shuts off. “Hey! I’m not parked illegally!” He shouts out at the deputy holding the windshield wiper of his van up, ticket clutched in his fist. When all Eddie gets is a blank stare he rushes out, leaving his friends staring after him.

“This’ll go over well.” Jeff sighs and hands you cash. “You’ll get to hear about this tonight for 8 hours.”

“About that. I might need to reschedule actually.” You can feel the cracks in the dam and you really don’t want to cry in front of these people.

“Oh?” Gareth gives you a side eye, something slick and calculating. Your eyes dart out the window to see Eddie gesturing at the signs on the street and you sigh heavy, handing their bag over to them.

“Yeah, I just forgot what uh, umm…” Trying to find a good excuse is impossible and he sees it on your face for what it is, an excuse.

“Oh my god Frank you owe me twenty bucks.” Gareth holds out his hand without looking at his friend. “I told you she didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“What.” That stops whatever waterworks were about to spring a leak. Gareth is smiling the biggest shit eating grin and suddenly Jeff and Frank are laughing while money is exchanging hands. “What are you talking about.”

“I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Eddie is the biggest fucking idiot.” Gareth laughs and pockets his money. “Like, I love that man but he has no idea what is going on.”

They aren’t laughing at you but you still feel rooted to the spot, and since none of them have started sharing this secret yet you start to get antsy. Jeff takes pity on you finally and tells you all about Eddie and his current fixation. He tells you about all the stories they’ve heard about you. How cool you are. How hot you are. How you’ll talk music with him like no one else and how you give only the best recommendations.

“You know he listens to New Order now because of you?” Jeff asks with a smile. “Like, great band but Eddie listening to them? He’s got it bad.”

You reel behind the counter while the three of them nod their heads sagely at you.

“He thought you had a boyfriend.”

“What?”

“When you left the other night after the show? He thought you picked up on him trying to flirt and got upset. I told him it was because it looked like Vicky was flirting but he was convinced he fucked up.”

“I thought-“ You don’t know what you thought because it hadn’t been anything actually. You had been jealous and it seemed like it was over nothing.

“Listen, you should still come out tonight. We can talk some sense into him if you want.”

“No.”

“No?” Jeff looks impressed.

“No, I can talk to him.” You run through your daydreams and your interactions. All his dumb jokes and how he looked after his show. You think about your hallway vision and what it might feel like to press him up against that wall and press a confession out of him. “I’ll talk to him.”

You don’t dress up for The Hideout. It’s dive bar chic only but tonight?

Tonight after you run back to your place to change, you dig out your black and white polka dot dress, the one you’d bought because Cyndi Lauper had made it look so good. It’s always sat a little short in the back, the buttons never coming up far enough in the bust for your confidence level but now it’s perfect. It flutters around your thighs and while you try not to poke yourself in the eye with your liner you think about Eddie’s fingers fluttering along with it. Maybe he’d be precious about it, a stuttering mess when you finally explain it to him in clear tones just what you were trying to do.

The whole drive over you imagine what his hair must feel like sliding between your fingers, what the stubble on his jaw would feel like grazing your knuckles, and you almost run two red lights. You’ve been stockpiling courage since the bands little conversation with you but when you finally pull into the parking lot and spot his van, you have a moment of doubt.

Right until he comes into view, leaning into his driver side with his ass sticking out, and it rushes back in tenfold. He doesn’t notice you park but you notice him futzing with his lighter, sad sparks sputtering around the end of his cigarette. Your kitten heels clack on the pavement and he only looks up when you’re almost on him, your own lighter held out in your palm. “Need a light?”

Eddie freezes, hands cupped around his face. You can tell he’s fighting the urge to let his gaze roam downward and you’re really hoping he gives into it. “I didn’t know we had a dress code tonight.” He mumbles around the filter and finally has enough of a thought to drop his hands and take your lighter. It strikes on the first try but you see the slight quiver of his hands when his eyes finally drop to the deep plunge of your dress.

“Oh this old thing? I hardly wear it.” You give him a half turn, just enough to make the hem ripple and he coughs on his inhale.

“It looks good. Y-you look good.” He’s a stuttering mess. “Um, if you want the guys are already inside I was just…” Eddie trails off when you take enough steps to crowd his space and he backs into his open door. The hinges squeak under the pressure and he scrambles to grab onto the frame with his free hand.

“Eddie?” You ask sweetly and he visibly swallows. “I don’t really want to drink with the guys.” You reach over and gently pull his cigarette from his fingers, mostly out of fear he might drop it in his van.

“Oh?” He’s taking short breaths the closer you get and when you lay your hands lightly on his chest you can feel his heart going a mile a minute.

“Mhm.”

The door creaks under his white knuckles and he seems to be holding on for dear life.

“I asked you out for a drink, but this is good too.” Inched close enough that your whisper ghosts over his lips before you close that short distance. That first breath in he smells like his half a cigarette and his aftershave. When his brain finally catches up to what you’re doing he gasps against your kiss, a move that you use to your advantage. Your hands find homes behind his neck to hold him close while your tongue pushes its way past his lips and he moans into your mouth. Here he taste like the beer he’s been drinking and tobacco and you start to get lost him.

He breaks the kiss before you can deepen it, breaths huffed across your face when he drops his forehead to yours.

“Ohhh, I’m a big idiot.” He laughs out in a whisper. “A big, big fuckin’ idiot.”

“No, just a little slow on the uptake.” You can’t resists the urge to slide your fingertips into his hair and the eye roll it gets you is divine.

“I can’t believe I wasn’t picking up on this, I thought I screwed up a few weeks ago-“

“Ed.” You slide your thumb over to rest on his lips. “It’s okay, it doesn’t matter.”

“I know but-“

“I’m serious.”

“I still feel stupid-“

“Get in the van.” You cut him off when you’ve heard enough. His eyes go wide before he gives one jerky nod of his head and quiet ‘yes’ and climbs in, disappearing between the seats to the back. You give one look around the parking lot before climbing in and closing the door behind you, any modesty long gone when you have to crawl into the back and you know your dress is bunched up around your hips. In the dark it takes you a moment before you can adjust but there’s a hand wrapped around the back of your knee pulling gently to bring you down to his level. You’ve barely got his outline made out before he’s pulling you in roughly by the leg, his other hand planting hard on the nape of your neck to bring you in for a kiss.

He’s less unsure in the back of his van, moving you around to situate you where he wants you and he lets you push him back against the hard floor once you’re settled in his lap. Your hands push up his shirt while his palms run up your bare thighs, bunching up the thin cotton of your dress till he hits the high cut of your underwear. His laugh turns into a groan when you move quickly down his neck leaving wet, open mouth kisses in your wake. You push his shirt up high and let your teeth drag against his nipple, the hitching in his chest making you smile against sensitive skin. His fingers slide under the edges of your underwear to grab at the fat of your ass and you slide your own fingers under his belt to pull it open.

“Oh hey, you don’t-“

“I don’t what?” The buckle clinks against his wallet chain and it all hits the floor with a heavy thud. “I don’t have to do this?” You tug at his button while holding his gaze and pull his zipper down quick. “Do you want me to do this?” A pause after you pull his jeans open so he can answer you.

His chest heaves but he smiles wide, tongue poking out to run along his bottom lip. “Yes.” He nods at your smile and keeps nodding when you pull his jeans down his hips and when your hand edges under the waistband of his boxers and when you crawl backwards out of his grasp. “Please.” He begs on a breath he started to hold when your dress slid up your hips as you bent down to place a kiss next to his bellybutton. “Please please please.” He chants when your hand wraps firmly around him, your smile pressing into the soft part of his belly.

“Please? Please what, Eddie?” You ask between the dotting of kisses you leave along his hips and the excruciating slow drag of your hand. He squirms under you, his stare heavy on the top of your head where he watches you move further down. “Please more of this?” You roll your wrist to finally free him and the flushed pink tip of his cock glistens in the low light before it disappears in your fist. He lets out a stuttering groan and falls flat on his back to run his hands over his face harshly.

“Or please this?” The flat of your tongue runs up from the base and follows your hand, ending with a cheeky kiss at the tip. You think Eddie might be crying under his big palms with how much he’s shaking.

“Is it that?” Another long lick that pulls a deep breath out of him. You spare a glance up his body to catch him staring at you in the dark from between his fingers.

“Yes fuck-oh shit.” You spare him his grief and swallow him down, your lips meeting your fist and your tongue exploring the soft skin against it. Every ridge and vein gets attention and Eddie rolls his hips up to chase the pointed tip of your tongue. His hands finally come down from his face, no longer obscuring his view, but they hover over your head haltingly.

“You can touch me Ed.” You tell him after popping off his cock wetly. When he stalls for a moment too long your pull a hand to fall on the crown of your head and his fingers slide in automatically, hair held gently between his knuckles. His hand tenses the same as his thighs when you wrap your lips around him again, humming at the taste as he hits the back of your throat. He makes breathy noises above you that choke off when your tongue swirls to match the twist of your hand. You bury your face down until your nose hits his bush and when you swallow around him he lets a string of slurred curses go into the roof, both hands sliding into your hair to grip tight.

You come up for air and to see his face go slack, eyes hazy where he follows the string of spit still connected to your lip and the tip of his cock.

“I didn’t know this is what going for a drink meant.” He tries to crack a joke but between his unfocused eyes and the hitch in his voice you laugh for a different reason.

“I did mean a drink actually, but this is a lot more fun.” Your hand speeds up, slick sounds loud in the back of his van and his eyes roll. You like watching him loose his mind, his hair pulled at and cheeks pink from the flush that creeps up from his chest. The urge to sink your teeth in along his ribs itches at the back of your mind until you can’t ignore it anymore and you attack him, hand trapped between the two of you still working him while you nip at his side. His laugh tumbles into an almost squeal and then a low moan when the head of his cock rubs against your thigh and he ruts up into your hand to chase the heat of your skin. You notice his sudden urgency and make your way back between his knees.

“Now I know it doesn’t look like it,” you lick your palm and continue jerking him off, “but I don’t put out on the first date.”

“This is a date?” He asks dazedly.

“It can be.” You smile at him before dropping your mouth on him again, bobbing up and down quicker this time.

“Oh fuck-“ His hands grip at your hair again, trying to pull back gently at first before he’s a little more insistent. “H-hey.” He tries again and you just stare up at him and hum, tongue running over that sensitive spot under the head of his dick. He must see the grin on your face because he finally drops his head back with a thud and he’s inadvertently bucking his hips up and gasping your name.

“Fuck fuck please don’t stop.” He bargains with you and the whine at the end of his words makes your stomach flip. You can feel the dampness between your thighs, your own arousal ignored in favor of making Eddie go stupid. With him toeing the edge of oblivion and whimpering about it though you almost wish you had just fucked him, if only to chase your own end.

You get a couple of courtesy taps and a whiney ‘no wait-‘ before he finally stills, a gasp caught in his chest that finally shudders out when he comes. His big hands cradle the back of your head when you swallow around him pulsing until he’s hissing and then he’s busy pulling you up to meet him halfway for a bruising kiss.

In the afterglow you realize you’ve had your whole ass out and anyone walking by his van could have seen you through the windshield. You only get a moment of embarrassment though before he’s moving into you and pushing you into the back of his driver seat.

“Hey we can-“ He pushes his face up under your jaw and cuts you off with open mouth kisses from your ear to your shoulder sitting bare under a hanging neckline. “We can go in for that drink now if you want.” You giggle at his eagerness and his hair tickling down your dress. He hasn’t even put himself together yet and he’s already got his hands on a mission, fists pulling and bunching up the fabric of your dress.

“I don’t want to go in for a drink.” He parrots your line back to you and carefully plucks at the big button keeping the top of your dress together. “I would like to express my sincere gratitude,” He works the button open one handed and catches your eye before dipping his fingers under the thin fabric and into the cup of your bra, “and deepest apologies,” the rough pad of his fingertip grazes a sensitive nipple and you bite your lip while your lashes flutter at him, “for being the worlds most ignorant individual.” He finishes on a whisper before he kisses you, plush lips soft and seeking like his hand now slowly working its way up your inner thigh. The tip of his pinky grazes along the edge of your underwear when his tongue slides along the seam of your lips and you grant him access to everything, knees falling apart and mouth molding to his.

This may not be your little dingy hallway inside but it’s better than any work daydream you’ve had about him. He slides your underwear down and pulls at your knee, spreading you open for him to run a finger in the crease of your hip. That earns him stifled whine from you and he tuts quietly. “Don’t be quiet.” His free hand pulls the shoulder of your dress down so he can plant a kiss there. “I gotta earn my forgiveness.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, it worked out.” You press your forehead into his and grin at him, stars in both your eyes you’re sure of it.

“Yeah but we could have been doing this so much sooner.” Just the slide of his finger through your folds makes you shiver, the wet sound of you loud in the quiet. “And look at me being ignorant again.” Two fingers this time, sliding up to find that small bundle of nerves that makes your head drop back. Eddie busies himself at your neck again, chest pressed into you and pinning you in place, fingers running tight circles over your clit. “Ignoring you in need.” His tongue worries at a spot behind your ear, an attempt to get you to relax into him and he dips his fingers down to gather your slick. “Let me help you out and maybe I’ll let you buy me a beer.”

You laugh and he sinks those two fingers in to hear you gasp and he wastes no time in his search for the right angle. He starts a quick pace that makes your breath catch in your chest and those musician fingers hone in on the spot that makes your legs jump.

“Oh is that it?” He bites softly at your neck stretched out under his mouth and laughs against your heated skin when you let out a strangled ‘uh huh’.

“Right there?” He flutters his fingers over and over, your thighs twitching with every brush. The heat pools fast in your abdomen especially with him mouthing at any skin he can find. You feel like you’re melting against him, the heat trapped between you and his fingers moving ceaselessly and when he angles his hand to press his thumb onto your clit you roll into him, thighs holding his arm in place.

“That’s it.” He murmurs and it’s your turn to bury your face, mouth hung open on a silent gasp against his chest.

“Eddie, please!”

“Please what?” He uses your words against you in play. “Please this?” A deeper brush of his fingertips and he grinds his hand against you. Your groan shakes deep out of your chest and before that band snaps to send you over the edge your hand winds up in his hair to hold on. It’s a quick push when your orgasm hits and Eddie doesn’t stop, not with you pulling his hair and gasping against his chest, not until you have to pull away, lightheaded and chest heaving.

“So I think that’s a good first apology, right?” He says into your hair, hand still trapped between your thighs.

“First?”

“Yeah I mean I have at least four more to make.” He removes his hand gently and finds your ruined underwear to wipe his fingers off, all while giving you a sly side eye.

“Are they all gonna be like that?” You feel boneless in the stifling heat of his van. He shifts and pulls you with him, slotting you between his legs so you can stay laying against his chest.

“I mean, they don’t have to be.” He sighs.

“No, no I like these kind of apologies.” You giggle against him and he pulls the hem of your dress down back over your hips. “Just maybe not always in the back of a van?”

“Oh no, I’ve got all kinds of places in mind. I Can say sorry in that little hallways inside,” your eyes go wide in the dark where he can’t see, “I’m sure you have a back room at work I can sneak into.”

“Oh my boss will love that.”

“Shit, I can find a corner in the garage no one uses, really the possibilities are endless.”

You know someone has to have noticed Eddie being gone for so long and you expect a tap on a window any minute but for now you stay tucked up against him. You’ll buy him his drink when his friends discover his fogged over van.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x Fem Reader #My Work #My Fic #asks!#THIS BITCH IS 6K????? since fuckin when 😩

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wandasfifthwife · 2 months

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never a burden

paring: (equestria girls) applejack x fem!reader

tw: pining after each other, gentle flirting, hurt/comfort (reader fails a job application and applejack comforts her), applejack showcases her element of honesty in this, this is pretty much pure fluff

a/n: this is for my underrated girl, Applejack. She deserves more love and fics honestly. Anyways, enjoy!! Do not copy my work | not proofread

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Granny spots you walking up, a funny looking grin making its way on her face as she waves. You lift a hand to wave back, “hey Granny Smith, I-“

“If you’re looking for Applejack she’s out by the barn,” your attention shifts to her figure off in the distance, “Maybe you can help bring her inside to cool off, she’s been working on fixin’ that fence since early this mornin.”

You thank granny, crossing the fields until Applejack was only a few feet away. She hears the crunching of the leaves and finds your figure standing across from her. You lean on nearby fencing, “hey you.”

“heya sugar cube,” she sits back on her calves, “what brings you all the way out here?”

You smile at her sweetly and take joy in her flustered expression. You slide off on teasing any further, explaining that you were picking something up for a friend and wanted to stop by. She wipes at her forehead, “I’m happy you did, it’s always good to see ya.”

Your heart warms at her sweet talk, “do you need any help?”

She shakes her head, going back to hammering nails into the wood. You sit in silence for a minute, watching how peaceful the moment around you was.

“Applejack,” she hums, “do you spend time in the fields?”

“Uh, well I am now. If that’s what you’re asking.”

“I mean, you have all this land, do you use it for more than just work?”

“Back when I was younger, sure I did. But things change.”

You stand straight, “what changed?”

“Granny got older, and so did I. Had to take on the responsibility for this here farm, and I couldn’t be more proud that she’s handed it down to me.”

You’re sure granny would be proud if someone where to point to a random fly and say they were her new pet, but you keep to yourself.

“Speaking of granny, she told me you’ve been out here all morning. Wanted me to come bring you inside so you can cool off.”

“Just after—“

She slows at the feeling of your hand on hers, “please?”

With a roll of her eyes, she’s walking you back to her house. You find yourself in her living room. She had excused herself a few minutes ago, turning and walking into the kitchen.

It seemed like only yesterday you just met the girl, sitting on her couch soaking wet, explaining why come knocking on their door. She had a sense of understanding, but was still very much reserved and confused, wondering why a random had come out to her house in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Her heavy footsteps announce her presence before she turns the corner, glasses in her hands, handing one to you.

“Imma open the windows, it’s hotter than a blister bug in a pepper patch today.”

You stand beside her, watching her tussle about with the window latches. It’s frustrating in how you’re blanking on how to act. You intentionally sought her out, and now that you have what you wanted, your hands are growing sweatier than they already were.

“So tell me, how’d your interview go? I’m so excited to hear,” her smile softens as she notices your body tense at her question. She makes a sympathetic sound, reaching and rubbing your arm.

“I guess I deserve it. They wanted over three years of experience and I’ve never even had a real job.”

“Hey now, don’t start on that nonsense. You have just of a right there as any other. You said they didn’t hire you because of inexperience? Well that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever—“

You hold onto her hand, “applejack its really alright. I’ll eventually get another interview.”

“I know you and I know how much this mattered to you. You don’t have to be all so positive happy all the time.”

You bite your cheek in hopes the pain would distract you from the tears building. She sighs, “I don’t mean to upset ya, I only am angry at the ones denying you.”

“You aren’t upsetting me. Thank you for listening.”

“Of course, sweet. Ya want a hug, they always make me feel better?”

The tears spill over and she’s cooing at you, moving your drinks onto the table near you. Her arms are already wrapping around you, pulling you near her, a hand patting your back, “go on, cry it all out.”

You laugh softly, going ahead and tightening your hold around her waist, “sorry, I didn’t mean to come over and worry you.”

“Never a burden, you’re always welcome. Let me go fetch some of that pie granny and I made just the other day, that’ll cheer you right up.”

She says, moving quickly into the kitchen. You step behind her, keeping close as she cuts a piece for you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re never a burden, sweetheart. Anytime.”

#applejack x reader #applejack #applejack x fem!reader #mlp x reader #mlp #mlp x fem!reader #my little pony x reader #my little pony #my little pony fanfiction #my little pony fic

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literatureatthebowofnails · 6 months

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A/N: Looking forward to your feedback

Series masterlist

Pairing: Loki x reader

Summary: Your first trip to Asgard

Warnings: Vomiting, fluff, angst

You land on Asgard, clutching Loki's arm in a death grip. Your nails dig into the black leather of his jacket, knuckles white as you fight to keep down your breakfast.

At Loki's other side, Steve Rogers grasps Thor's shoulder to steady himself. Beside you, Director Fury stands almost entirely still, the only sign of movement a slight flapping of his coat.

"Welcome to..."

"I'm going to be sick," you cut off the gatekeeper, releasing Loki and running to spill the churning contents of your stomach off the bridge.

You look up and see a grand procession approaching from further down, their guilded armor bright in the morning sun. Leading the group are four warriors: a stunning dark-haired woman, a blonde with a charming grin, a stout soldier sporting wild facial hair, and an overly serious crusader.

You wipe your mouth, feeling better but still unsteady on your feet as you return to the circular chamber. "Sorry," you mutter.

"Don't worry about it," Steve says. "I was a mess on my first visit."

"Um, thanks." You don't really believe him.

"I am Heimdall," the golden god continues, unfazed by your interlude. "Gatekeeper of Asgard, protector of the Bifrost, and seer of all things."

At this point, the entourage arrives. "May I present Lady Sif, the Warriors Three and the Einherjar," Thor makes your introductions, noting that Rogers and Fury are already acquainted with the leaders.

Three horses are presented for your journey to the palace. You perch nervously at the front of your saddle, grasping the horn for dear life. Loki swings up gracefully behind you and reaches around to control the reigns.

"It's alright, darling," he coos, wrapping an arm snuggly about your middle. "Nótt is steady and true. He will deliver us safely, I guarantee it."

You take a breath, trying not to shudder or look beyond the bridge. "It's my first time."

"And you're doing splendidly," he hugs you closer and you begin to relax as you watch Steve cling to Thor's waist.

Fury kicks his steed to a trot, joining Hogun at the head of the group.

☕

The five of you gather in an antechamber, preened and swathed in Asgardian finery. Rogers and Fury are called first, leaving to greet the court. After some time, you and Loki are announced.

He takes your hand, placing it around his arm before entering the grand golden hall. You walk side by side down the long aisle to the throne. Loki's steps are assured, his pace steady, honed jaw set in determination. The crowd claps respectfully, their observance subdued, even hesitant.

You reach the stairs below the throne and bend in a nervous curtsy. The prince gives his father a minimal bow; enough to show the necessary respect, but not a hair more.

"My son," Odin addresses Loki. You watch as his lip gives a slight twitch of irritation. "Welcome home."

"Father," comes the strained reply.

He then turns to the stately woman on your left. "Mother," he greets with a warm smile.

The queen comes to bestow a kiss on each of her son's cheeks. "It's so good to have your home." She turns to beam at you. "And you must be the gracious lady my sons speak so highly of!"

Loki provides your name and you exchange pleasantries with his parents before standing beside the queen, opposite Steve and Fury.

"Thor Odinson!" the herald bellows, followed by a roar of cheers and clapping from the crowd. The crown prince swings his hammer around, eliciting further excitement. You give Loki's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Father! Mother," Thor greets as he approaches, kneeling before the throne. "It has been too long."

"Too long indeed," Odin beams with pride for his first born. "I fear that if it were not for these mandatory check-ins, I we would never see you."

"I was here only a month ago," Thor's brows draw together in confusion before he brightens like a lightbulb. "Loki and I will make a point to visit more often." The dark-haired bother exhales a measured breath beside you. You doubt he plans to follow though with that promise.

☕

While the king reviews his youngest's contributions to Earth's safety, Queen Frigga invites you to tea.

Guiding you along a winding garden path, the matriarch asks how you and Loki are settling into your new space. She listens with interest to the explanation of your minimalist design preferences and methods taken to assimilate his more extravagant leanings.

Eventually you reach a grand birch tree. Beneath it sits a table set for two. A tiered tray boasts bite size sandwiches, petits fours, fruit, and madeleines. Small jars of curd, cream, jam, and honey surrounded it, with a heaping plate of scones and large pot of tea to complete the spread.

"I'm impressed to hear how well you collaborate with my youngest," Frigga comments as she pours your tea. "He's not always the most amiable, but he's unfeigned when it comes to you."

You smile, adding cream to cool your steaming china cup. "I think people rely too much on first impressions. Though impulsively acting superior when he feels insecure doesn't exactly help matters."

The queen nearly spills her tea, covering a smile. "That's quite an astute observation."

As your meal comes to a close, Loki appears. "I take it you're becoming better aquainted?"

"We are indeed," Frigga confirms. "I'm so glad you've finally introduced us."

"Mother," Loki smiles, "you know you're always welcome to visit Midgard."

"Maybe we should make a formal invitation?" you suggest.

Your trio walks slowly back to the palace, discussing potential opportunities for the king and queen to visit New York. A pattern forms with Loki suggesting inconsequential dates, and Frigga being forced to "remind" him they're during occasions that require the Alfather's presence onworld.

Before you part ways, Loki stops a passing servant and requests they show you to his chambers, noting he requires a moment alone with his mother. You say your goodbyes to the queen until supper and her son assures he'll join you imminently.

Tags in comments because I got trigger-happy posting this one 😆

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megalony · 3 months

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Thank Me Later

This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by Anon. I hope you will all like it, I had fun writing this one. I'm trying to work through my requests as quickly as I can.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts

911 Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) starts to feel unwell on shift and tries to sleep it off, but things go from bad to worse when she interrupts a thief at the station. Then becomes a hostage.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What have we got today?" Evan leaned his arms onto the kitchen counter and arched his back out as he crossed one leg over the other. His head tilted to one side and he grinned as he watched Bobby take a large square dish out of the oven.

They were actually on time for tea today which was a miracle around the station. The bell hadn't sounded and dragged them off to a call out right in the middle of their meal or when they were just about to sit down and eat. Everyone could eat properly today, it had been a calmer day than they were used to.

"Pasta bake," Bobby looked up from the large serving bowl and smiled widely when he could see Evan's eyes widen happily.

"Do you want a drink?" (Y/n) looked up at Eddie as the pair of them headed up the stairs and turned to the left towards the kitchen. She knew he was keeping a slow pace to walk at her speed which had suddenly taken a very drastic decline, but he didn't say anything.

She could feel Eddie's hand hover over her lower back as he nodded and let her move in front of him towards the fridge while he went to sit down.

(Y/n) tried to calm her breaths but she bit down on her lip when her fingers curled around a glass and she realised her hand was shaking. All day yesterday she hadn't felt great but being on shift today only made her feel worse. They had been on a big callout to a car accident this morning and it had somehow snatched all of (Y/n)'s energy and left her feeling burnt out and dead on her feet.

Deep down, she knew she was probably coming down with something. She was hungry but the smell and the thought of food made her uneasy and her head was pounding like she was being hit with a hammer. But she didn't want to go off sick. (Y/n) couldn't leave the station in bother when they had three people off this week and someone had been snatched for another station that was low on regulars.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she poured two glasses of juice and dug her nails into the glass so harshly her fingers began to throb and ache. She couldn't risk dropping the glasses.

It was a relief when she shuffled over to the table and was able to put a glass down in front of herself and Eddie. She let herself flop down into her seat and took a second to tilt her head back and close her eyes, relishing in the way her muscles stopped aching and weighed down when she sat and relaxed.

"Are you alright?"

A shiver bolted down (Y/n)'s spine and her eyes snapped open when she felt Eddie's lips hover over the shell of her ear as he leaned close enough that his chest bumped her shoulder. And when his hand gave her knee a squeeze, (Y/n) almost melted into a puddle in her chair.

Why did Eddie have to have such an effect on her?

They were friends. Good friends. Close friends. He meant everything to her but the closer Eddie got to her, the more (Y/n) started to panic. She didn't want to feel this way about someone she worked with. What if Eddie didn't feel this connection as deeply as she did? (Y/n) couldn't handle that kind of rejection and then go and see Eddie every day and work so close to his side that they almost felt like a married couple.

How could she watch his back when all she wanted to do was reel him close and kiss him? She couldn't look out for him when her mind was too focused on what he looked like out of the uniform.

(Y/n) realised she hadn't answered and quickly nodded her head despite the pain it caused to bolt down the back of her neck and how her eyes rolled and lost focus from the slight movement.

"Thanks," She whispered quietly when Hen held a plate of pasta out to her since she was the one dishing up the food today.

The steam coming from her plate made her nose crinkle and her head started to swim from the heat. She already felt like she was trapped in an oven and had to switch her button up shirt for a plain cotton shirt with no sleeves to let her body breathe and cool back down.

Two bites of pasta had (Y/n) pressing the back of her hand against her mouth as she willed herself not to throw up at the dinner table.

Her head tilted down and she took a few deep breaths, trying to keep her food down as she set down her fork and grabbed her glass instead. Maybe skipping lunch would be a good idea to let her body settle. She could try and eat better when they had tea later on in the shift.

Eddie cleared half his plate before he tilted his head down to the right and realised (Y/n) hadn't eaten more than three forkfuls. His brows furrowed and he put down his fork so he could slide his hand beneath the table and give her knee another squeeze to grab her attention. He could see she wasn't paying attention to the conversation floating around the table and frankly, neither was he.

His full attention was landing on (Y/n) now.

She had wobbled when they got out the truck earlier and he had to grab her before she fell down to her knees. He knew she hadn't eaten breakfast this morning and she had almost lost her footing again on the stairs a while ago. She was having dizzy spells and that was beginning to concern Eddie.

"What's wrong?"

Turning in his seat, Eddie moved so his body was facing (Y/n) and he stretched his right arm behind her and gripped the back of her chair. While his left hand propped his chin up and he tilted his head at an angle to look at her. No one else was paying them much attention so it didn't matter if he turned his back on the rest of the table to give (Y/n) his full attention.

"Eddie…"

Her head was splitting like someone was banging a drum so harshly that her head was ripping open at the seams. The thudding of her heartbeat pulsed beneath her skin and pounded through her head so badly that she couldn't even see anymore. All she could make out were the black and white sparkles blinking in front of her eyes.

"Hm?" He pursed his lips and dared to move his hand from her chair to rest on her back but his pupils blew wide when he felt her body loosen and watched her head drop forward.

As quick as anything, Eddie lurched his left hand forward and cupped his palm against (Y/n)'s temple to stop her face from landing in her dinner. He held up her head and slid his right arm down her back to wrap around her waist.

"Shit!"

Eddie scraped his chair back and gave it a swift kick so it was out of his way so he could crouch down beside (Y/n). He tilted her head back and cupped the back of her neck so her head didn't flop backwards and hurt her neck. And his other hand pressed against her neck just below her chin to feel her pulse which was running high.

His thumb brushed through her hair against her neck and he shifted his other hand higher to cup her cheek. He tilted her head down towards him and leaned up to check her pupils when her eyes slowly started to flicker open.

"(Y/n), are you with me?" Eddie could feel Hen hovering at his side, waiting to be given the order to go and get one of the medic bags so they could properly assess (Y/n).

She had only blacked out for a few seconds but it was enough to panic all of them. Especially Eddie.

(Y/n) let her head flop forward until her chin was pressed down into her chest but she managed to raise her hand enough to curl her fingers around Eddie's wrist and hum quietly. Her head kept pounding and the blood seemed to fizle and pop in her ears, but she could start to see again now without spots and dots flickering in front of her eyes. And she could hear Eddie's serenading voice in her ears.

She didn't realise how close he was until his thumb lifted her eyelid to check her pupil and she came face to face with his melted chocolate eyes.

Her heart did another leap in her chest when Eddie pressed the back of his hand against her temple. And (Y/n) let her head tip forward so she could brush her nose against his wrist while her fingers stayed curled around his other wrist.

"You're burning up."

"Alright, I think your shift is over." Bobby leaned his hips back against the table and folded his arms over his chest. His expression stayed stoic yet firm when (Y/n) groaned and tried to look up at him.

Her shift was almost over but she had another two and a half hours left, the same as Eddie. She couldn't leave now, especially not if they got another call out.

Shivers bolted up and down (Y/n)'s stomach and fireworks flickered in her fingertips when Eddie cupped her chin and tilted her head up. He stayed crouching in front of her and stayed silent, watching to see if she could hold her head up and if she was properly conscious.

His hand dropped from her face and (Y/n) suddenly felt cold and deflated until she felt where his hands moved to. One hand curled around her upper thigh and started to squeeze reassuringly while his other hand held her wrist and counted her pulse.

"You don't look good," Evan commented quietly, taking a swig of his drink as he leaned over the table to look at her. She looked sick. Sweating, unfocused vision, trembling and barely lucid. She wasn't well.

"Pulse is evening back out but I don't trust you to drive home." Eddie looked down at his watch before he looked back up between Bobby and (Y/n). "If you hang on I'll take you home when I finish." There was no way anyone was going to let (Y/n) drive home, not when she was burning a fever and she looked about ready to collapse again. She could have another blackout and that would be a disaster waiting to happen.

If she stayed here and tried to rest, Eddie would happily take her home when their shifts ended which wouldn't be long anyway.

He was relieved when (Y/n) nodded. She wanted to stay at the station and finish her shift. She wanted to be around Eddie. He made her feel better and right now, with his hand digging into her thigh, (Y/n) was fighting the urge to squirm and jump down into his lap.

"I'm okay," Her eyes flitted around to everyone but Eddie, trying to tell them that they could sit down and eat their dinner again. She didn't want to cause any more distraction and stop everyone from finishing their meal if the alarm sounded. Not that it bothered Evan who was practically finished now. She wanted them all to go back to their seats; everyone but Eddie.

Her hands moved to hold Eddie's biceps when he stood up and gripped her elbows, helping her up even though she didn't know what he was doing or where he was trying to take her.

His arm swooped around her waist and his hand pressed against her back between her hips and he guided her towards the stairs.

"Your shift hasn't ended yet," She whispered quietly, wiping her arm against her temple that was still flushed.

"I know, but if you're waiting for me to take you home then I need you to rest. Go sleep in the bunker until our shift finishes." The last thing Eddie wanted was for (Y/n) to bustle about the station trying to help out and overdo things. She was burning up a fever and she didn't look well. Eddie wanted her to try and take it easy and rest until he could take her home.

And if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure he would actually be taking (Y/n) home today. He might bring her back home with him so he could make sure she was alright. The last thing (Y/n) needed was to be ill and alone at home when she could stay with Eddie and Chris. It would stop Eddie from fretting about her.

A jolt ran down (Y/n)'s spine and her hand lurched around Eddie's bicep when the alarm bell sounded just as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She could feel Eddie's fingers digging into her back and his other hand grabbed her arm to steady her.

"Come on," He mumbled quietly as he guided (Y/n) down the corridor towards the bunker room. He wanted to make sure she actually laid down before he had to go out on this call. He knew what (Y/n) was like and if they went out on a call, she would end up cleaning and tidying and overdoing things.

(Y/n) could feel her mind starting to shut down the moment she flopped onto one of the cot beds. Her knees coiled up to her stomach and she wound one arm to her waist but in a moment of courage, (Y/n) curled her hand around Eddie's and brushed his hand against her cheek.

"I won't be long. Try and get some sleep, love."

Fireworks ignited throughout (Y/n)'s temple and down to her stomach that pumped with adrenaline when she felt Eddie's lips press against her temple. He had never done that before. Maybe he was doing it because she wasn't feeling well and he wanted to calm her down and reassure her.

But (Y/n) hoped the reason was because he secretly felt the same way she did.

***

(Y/n) could feel a storm rolling in behind her eyes and spreading all throughout her head when she groggily opened her eyes and tried to sit up. Her body swayed back and forth when she moved into an upright position on the small cot bed.

Her head lolled back and her eyes moved from left to right until they managed to regain focus again. A groan tumbled past her lips as her hands moved to slam down on the bed to prop herself up but her elbows were shaking and shivers rushed throughout her body.

When the drowsy feeling finally started to dissipate, (Y/n) flopped her head forward and tried to take deep breaths to clear the spots in front of her eyes.

Her hand moved to swipe against her forehead and she grimaced and cringed silently. Her body was flushed and covered in sweat.

Her fever was getting out of control.

It didn't feel like she had been asleep for long, but she couldn't be sure. She felt like she had only managed a ten-minute power nap but her churning stomach and throbbing head told her otherwise. Maybe she needed to go get a drink and wait out front for the team to come back. Once Eddie was back, he would be taking her home because he was right, (Y/n) was in no fit state to drive herself anywhere.

"Fuck," Her knees jerked back and forth when she stood up and her body dithered, deciding whether she could stand on her own two feet or if her weight was suddenly too much to handle.

Her balance felt off. It felt like her centre of gravity had shifted to the left and (Y/n) found her head and shoulders tilting to the left which made her body stumble in that direction when she aimed for the door.

This wasn't good. Eddie was right, she was coming down with something.

The station felt odd and uneasy when there weren't many people milling about the place. She had been left at the station by herself a few times for various reasons, but when she felt ill, the station suddenly felt gloomy and unsafe.

As she wandered down the hall, (Y/n) reached her hand out and trailed her palm across the wall to steady and support herself so she didn't end up taking a tumble down to the floor. Her body aimed to turn left but she stopped walking and looked across to the right when a sound caught her attention.

The only room down that small corridor was Bobby's office. Her feet fumbled beneath her when she darted a glance ahead of her. The fire trucks and the ambulance were gone. The team hadn't come back yet and Bobby wouldn't hang back at the station if the team went out on a call.

So who was in his office?

(Y/n) let her shoulder slump against the wall as she dithered down the corridor. Her heart started to beat faster in her chest when she noticed Bobby's office door was slightly ajar.

She couldn't recall whether Bobby locked the office when he wasn't here or not. It wasn't like the station was ever empty. Someone was always here, they were open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. There would always be people on shift and no one needed to go ransacking his office for anything. He had nothing of value hidden in there and no one who worked here would need to snatch anything from the office.

"What are you doing?" Her voice came out rather authoritative and her arms moved to cross over her chest.

She stood in the doorway of the office, frowning across at someone she didn't recognise. (Y/n) had worked at the station for over a year now, she knew everyone who worked here and she knew a few people from the other stations too. She didn't recognise the man in front of her which meant he didn't work here.

Begging the question, what was he doing in Bobby's office? What was he looking for?

(Y/n) realised a second too late that she had walked in on a very, very bad situation.

The man in question was wearing all black; trousers, boots, hoodie and gloves. The only thing he was missing was a mask. The drawers in Bobby's desk were all pulled out and ruffled through, papers were spilling over the edges, pens and stationary littered the floor and almost everything had been pushed off the desk onto the floor.

The cupboards behind the desk were currently being rooted through and by the stranger's foot, there was a duffle bag that was currently empty. He was trying to raid the station.

"Don't make this harder for both of us. Where's the valuables?"

Despite the panic rattling through her chest, the pain bolting across her temple and the unease clouding round her like a fog, (Y/n) managed something similar to a smile. Did he mistake the station for a bank or a posh mansion? What kind of valuables did he think they kept round here? This was a fire house, a place for emergencies. They sent out medical equipment and had ladders and jaws and electrical devices to help get people out of all sorts of situations and fires and people in medical distress.

They weren't a jewellery shop, stashing diamonds and necklaces in safes locked away in the office. They didn't keep money around the station either. Their wages were paid electronically and they had a bank card for any food or equipment they needed to buy; no cash was left on the premises, except for staff wallets in their lockers.

"This is a fire station, we don't have any valuables you can take. You need to leave." (Y/n) began to tap her fingers against her arm and her teeth ground together. She was ill, she wasn't in the mood to argue with a very bad thief. She would give him a head start and let him leave before she called Athena to report this.

"I'm not leaving until I have something of value with me."

"Then I'll call the police."

(Y/n) wasn't playing games, she knew she looked the picture of death right now and she was in no mood to negotiate or help him loot the station.

Her mind was already trying to fathom where she last had her phone while she took two steps back into the corridor and turned around. She wasn't standing around to watch, she would find her phone and call the police and try to contact Bobby to see if they were on their way back yet.

"I don't think so." That voice sent shivers running up and down (Y/n)'s spine and her feet started to flop and curl in a hurried attempt to start running. She needed a phone, she didn't want to get attacked.

A scream fell past (Y/n)'s lips and her hands moved to cup over her ears when a gunshot rang out through the air. Her body jolted to the left and slammed into the wall, the shock making her knees buckle until she slumped down onto her knees on the floor.

He had a gun.

Where did he get that from? She didn't see it on the desk or in his hand when she looked him up and down. He must have hidden it in his jeans or in the duffle bag by his feet. This changed things. (Y/n) couldn't try snd outrun him when she wasn't in the best state and he seemed willing to shoot her down. She was going to have to comply.

Her eyes snapped closed and her hands let go of her ears to hold out in front of her when she felt a rough hand tangle in her hair and wrench her head backwards. Her neck cricked with pain and her features scrunched up into a wince as she swallowed down a cry.

She braced her hands on the wall to help herself stand up when he all but dragged her to her feet by her hair. But when (Y/n) felt the barrell of the gun press down into her back between her hips, her body turned to jelly and she wobble don the spot.

"Now, you're going to show me where all the good stuff is that I can flog, and I might not shoot you at the end of this. Okay?"

"Hm." (Y/n) did her best to nod her head in agreement but when he harshly shook her head back and forth, bile rose in the back of her throat and she wavered on the spot.

"Well?"

"I-inventory… you can take t-the equipment, hacksaw, medical stock, it'll sell quick." (Y/n) opened her eyes but she could barely get her vision to focus down the hall.

He could take anything from the stock room. They had spare axes, hoses, jaws for car crashes. And any of their medical equipment would sell on the black market and to dodgy clinics all around LA. Everything they had in inventory would sell somewhere and get a good price. It might not be as good as stealing cash or jewellery or selling documents, but it was as good as he was going to get from the station.

"Let's go."

He ragged (Y/n)'s head back until she was almost touching his shoulder, then he suddenly gave her a rough shove forward and had her tripping over her feet. (Y/n) bound one arm around her chest and trailed her left hand along the wall to steady herself and to try and stay upright when her head was turning to mush and her body was ready to drop.

Why couldn't the team have come back already? He wouldn't be much of a match for any of the guys here. Evan and Eddie could of tackled him easily before he produced the gun and they could of outnumbered him.

(Y/n)'s feet stumbled beneath her and she stopped walking when they moved towards the main floor of the station.

The ambulance was parked up. The truck was reversing back in its usual spot. The team were back.

This was not going to go down very well.

His hand left her hair and moved to scrunch up the back of her shirt so he had a good grip in case she tried to move away from him. The gun moved higher until it was pressed between her shoulders and he stood tall behind her, keeping his chest touching her back so she knew he was in charge of this situation.

"Quick." He hissed in her ear and (Y/n) shakily pointed towards the right near the lockers. Behind the gym was the inventory and stock room. They weren't going to get over there without someone seeing them, surely he had to know that.

"(Y/n), hey are you feeling any better?"

Shivers bolted up and down (Y/n)'s spine and she could feel tears creeping up in the corners of her eyes.

Eddie's voice made her stomach melt like snow and sent her heart jumping up into her throat until she couldn't breathe. When she looked over her left shoulder towards him, a single tear traced down her face. He was stood behind the truck with his hands on his hips, no florescent jacket on which exposed his bulging arms to her sight. His hair was askew in all directions and traces of mud and dirt coated his face.

His shoulders straightened out and he quirked a soft smile, showing his teeth and creasing his eyes that made (Y/n) feel like her heart had left her chest and gone straight into his hands.

His smile started to fade when she didn't answer him. Eddie tried to catch back his breath but his upper lip curled in distaste when he watched (Y/n) just stare at him like she suddenly didn't know how to speak. He could see she was trembling and even from this distance, he could tell her breathing was rapid and uneven.

"She's fine."

Eddie tilted his chin up as his jaw loosened so he could run his tongue over his lips. He narrowed his eyes while his hands tightened around his hips. Who the Hell was that stood behind her? Eddie didn't recognise him, he wasn't wearing any sort of uniform for the station or police or any other job.

"I wasn't asking you. (Y/n)… is everything okay?" He wouldn't move until he heard from (Y/n) that she was okay and there wasn't a problem here because she didn't look well or comfortable. And Eddie wouldn't have that.

(Y/n) rolled her lips together to stop herself from saying anything but her chest shuddered when she felt the gun press harsher into her upper back and the man tried to pull her to keep moving. Before she could think better of it, (Y/n) started to shake her head. She grounded her feet to the spot and pulled back when the man tried to drag her away.

Her head violently shook from side to side and more tears flooded down her face, making a fire spark within Eddie's chest.

"Eddie…"

"Let go of her."

With his hands clenched into fists at his sides, Eddie started to walk forward. He didn't know what was going on here but he didn't like it at all. (Y/n) was crying and she looked worried and there was a stranger stood behind her like he was threatening her.

"Alright, let's try this again."

Eddie stopped short and stumbled onto his back foot when a gun was suddenly pressed against (Y/n)'s temple.

(Y/n) bit down on her lip harsh enough to draw blood when his hand fisted in her hair again and tilted her head back near his. Her shoulders bumped into his chest and she coiled her arms up towards her chest, scratching her nails into her neck to try and calm herself down when the barrell of the gun moved to the right side of her head.

"Cap." Eddie tilted his head to the side and took a quick glance over his shoulder before he looked back at (Y/n). He held his hands out in front of him to show he wasn't about to lunge forward or get a phone and start calling the police. He wouldn't do anything to jeopardise (Y/n)'s safety. Never.

He could feel Bobby standing behind him and soon enough the rest of the team was crowding around, all stood in a line, their unease mingling together and radiating out around the station.

What were they supposed to do? How could they help (Y/n) when she was now a hostage?

What could Eddie do?

"Okay, everybody stay where they are. We're not going to do anything unless you say so. What do you want?" Bobby took two steps forward so he was in front of his team. He was the captain, he was the one who was in charge of the station and responsible for the team. He wouldn't let anyone get hurt if he could help it and he would try and negotiate and do whatever he was asked to keep his team safe.

"Everybody over there. Now."

When he pointed towards the locker room, Bobby nodded and moved his hands out to usher the team in that direction.

Chimney and Hen moved first, being the closest to the locker room. Evan followed behind and kept moving when Bobby patted his shoulder and nudged him to follow. Bobby turned towards Eddie and rested a hand on his shoulder but Eddie shook him off.

He wasn't going to go and sit in there and risk this man walk off with (Y/n). One look at her and anyone could see she was sick. She was flushed, sweating, shaking and could barely keep her eyes focused. She needed to see a doctor and get away from this stressful situation. Eddie wasn't leaving her.

"Eddie, come on-"

"Let (Y/n) come with us. We're complying, let her stay with us and you can take what you want." Eddie waved his hand out in (Y/n)'s direction, trying to get her to safety with them. None of them were going to tackle him or overpower him when he had a gun on them. Having (Y/n) in the locker room with them would make it better for this guy. He could go and take whatever he wanted without having to drag her along with him.

"She's my security, she stays with me."

(Y/n) closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath but it didn't relieve the lightheaded feeling swamping through her temple.

"Look at her, she's gonna collapse. Take one of us instead, she won't be much security when she drops."

The way Eddie raised his brows and jutted out his jaw made (Y/n) shiver and she tilted her head back when she realised what he was hinting at. Her lips pressed together tightly and she held her breath for as long as she could until her head weighed down and her body started to shudder.

It wasn't hard to let her muscles go limp and when the man's hand tightened in her hair and became the only thing holding her up, (Y/n)'s vision went black. She could barely register the noises around her and she didn't feel the way her body thumped against the ground when he let her drop down.

Eddie stomped his foot and growled when Bobby grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from lunging forward to grab (Y/n) before she hit the floor.

"You, come with me. You, take her in there."

That was all Eddie needed to hear. He kept his eyes focused on (Y/n) instead of the gun that was pointing at him in case he made any sudden movements. He bashed his knees down into the floor and gently cradled the back of (Y/n)'s neck so he could pull her head up and rest her cheek against his shoulder. His hand moved round to her back and his other arm slid beneath her knees.

"I got you, I got you." He muttered quietly against her temple when he stood up and headed towards the locker room.

As soon as he was inside, Eddie went down on his knees again and gently eased (Y/n) down on the floor. He shifted her round so her back was slumped up against his chest and he curved his arm around her waist while his other hand moved to cup her jaw.

Hen slumped down next to Eddie while Chimney and Evan sat on the bench, all of them grimacing when Bobby locked the door and gave them a pointed look before he followed the gun man down the corridor towards the inventory room.

"(Y/n)… look at me," Eddie brushed his thumb against her jaw and gently moved her head to try and bring her back around. She had tried to make herself collapse and had blacked out in the process. "She's burning up, she might have an infection."

"Pulse is very fast, I'd take a guess that her BP is too high as well. We have to get her to the hospital." Hen held (Y/n)'s wrist in her hand and counted her pulse which was way too high. She was at risk of going into cardiac arrest or having breathing problems if this continued. She she still wasn't lucid yet, her eyes were fluttering about but the only movement she had was her body trembling in Eddie's arms.

"Then we get out of here, now."

Pushing forward, Eddie carefully eased (Y/n) forward until her head was on Hen's shoulder so he could get up. He looked at Evan and pointed at the fire extinguisher, that was their only weapon of defence and their attacker couldn't do anything if they blasted him with a concentrated amount of CO2 from the extinguisher.

Eddie pressed his forehead against the window and took a look around, making sure Bobby and the man weren't coming back yet before he pulled back. He closed his eyes, leaned his chest back and rammed his elbow into the window with as much force as he could manage.

The glass splintered around his joint, imbedding in his skin and trickling blood down his arm towards his fingers, but the adrenaline coursing through his body countered the pain and panic he was feeling. Eddie reached his hand through the broken glass and unlocked the door before he turned back around and leaned down.

"Everybody in the ambulance. Go." He waved an arm at them to make them move before he looked down at (Y/n). "Up we go, sweetheart."

Eddie grabbed (Y/n)'s right arm and curled it around the back of his neck before his right arm clamped down around her bum, hoping she would excuse the touch before he hoisted her up. He straightened up and slumped (Y/n) over his right shoulder, feeling her forehead press into his back and he heard her groan something incoherent as he juggled her a bit higher up so she was secure.

His chest tightened when he realised he had a great view of her arse right next to him. His arm bound around the back of her thighs and he turned around and made a break out of the locker room.

Hen and Chimney sped towards the ambulance and Eddie cringed when Evan turned on the extinguisher, trying his best to aim for the gun man and not Bobby. The last thing he wanted was to incapacitate their captain too.

Bobby seemed mostly unaffected and braced himself before he slammed his forearm out into the man's throat, smacking him straight in the windpipe which immobilised him. He fell down to his knees in time for Bobby to grapple the gun out of his hand, urging them all to move.

"Go!" Evan pressed his hand to Eddie's shoulder and smashed his other fist down on the side of the ambulance when Eddie was in the back with Chimney and Hen was in the driver's seat. Evan closed the door, closing them inside before he took a step back so he was out the way. He would stay behind with Bobby and wait for the police and to be safe in case another call out came through the tanoid.

A weak groan tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips when she felt herself being slumped over from Eddie's shoulder and down onto the gurney. Her arm bound around her chest as she began to cough and wheeze, trying to slow down her breathing because her pulse was throbbing in her ears.

Her head twisted from side to side when she felt one of them trying to press an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose.

"Sweetheart it's to help you, come on let me help you, please?" Eddie leaned over the gurney and braced his shoulder on the wall when Hen took a sharp right turn that had them jolting back and forth.

He brushed his thumb against (Y/n)'s jaw before he placed the oxygen mask back over her nose, relieved when she stopped fidgeting and trying to push him away. It was to keep her system going and make sure she was alright, he wasn't trying to hurt her or do this to be cruel.

(Y/n) flopped her arm out when she managed to focus her eyes enough to see Chimney holding a blood pressure cuff. But she moved her free hand out and grabbed Eddie's hand that was hovering near her neck. She caught his attention and he leaned down closer when she tugged on his hand and brought it down to her chest.

"What, sweetheart?"

He refrained from rolling his eyes when (Y/n) scratched the mask down until it flopped on her chest and she could look up at him. Her lips quirked into a dazed, tight smile but it was enough to make Eddie's heart flutter.

"Thank you," (Y/n) pulled on his arm again until she could flop her head forward and kiss his exposed arm.

She barely heard Chimney mutter something about her blood pressure being high. She guessed he was going to find her some blood thinners when he turned his back to them and rummaged around in the drawers for something. His lack of attention gave Eddie enough time to lean down and press his lips against (Y/n)'s burning temple which made her heart flutter and her fingers tightened around his arm.

She almost saw stars in front of her eyes again when she felt Eddie's fingers fluttering up and down her chest before his lips moved down to hover over her ear. She could feel each panting breath against the shell of her ear that he kissed softly.

"Let me look after you now, then I'll think of a way you can thank me later."

#eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #imagine #911 imagine #bobby nash #evan buckley

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bunihyo · 10 months

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trying to fuel my Arlecchino brain rot atm, so while i work on requests take this. I need her biblically, I need to main her, she needs to be my first c6 5* with r5 weapon and the best set ever.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Her Subordinate

arlecchino x gn!reader, your summoned into her office one afternoon, with a new proposal. sfw, slight nsfw underline at the end, but there’s no smut.

"You requested me?"

Your heart hammered in your chest, head peaking into Arlecchino's office. The familiar fair headed woman was at her desk, legs crossed with a book in her lap. She looked up at the disturbance, the slight annoyance she conveyed was quickly washed away. "Yes," A nod is sent your way. "Come here."

Your body shivers, the way it always does when she addresses you. It's so different from the others that you can't help but buzz. You enter the office fully and close the door behind you. Arlecchino beckons you over with one blackened finger, sharp nail being highlighted by the little natural light she allowed to enter her office.

You obeyed, the pace you had quickening as you walked to the front of her desk. You tilted your head, as if asking to speak, and she nodded gently. "My lady..." You breathed, feeling her cold room bite at you despite the layers of clothes. "Did I do something?"

The sides of Arlecchino's lips quirked. "No." You shuffled on your feet, already wanting to question her further. She sighed. "Go ahead, Y/n. Speak freely."

The first name addressing started not long ago, it made you feel even more special. After all, she never took the time to learn the names of any of her other subordinates. "Why have you called me here?" Your voice shivers from the cold. "Am I in trouble?"

Finally, a chuckle leaves her. "You worry too much," She waved you closer and you visibly gulped, rounding around her desk. Her predatory gaze followed you, swiveling in her chair so you were right infront of her. "You're my best asset."

"I am?" You sputtered, quickly looking down at your feet. "I'm sorry, my lady. I didn't mean to question-"

"It's quite alright Y/n." She waved it off, and you tentatively raised your head again so you can watch the movement. "It's no secret most of the stuff around here gets done because of you. You're my best subordinate by far, and I've come to ask you something."

You want to question what she could possibly want to ask you, but don't when your brain registers the slight praise. Your body shivers involuntarily again, and Arlecchino stands. She approaches you, heels clacking against the floor of her office. You look up, swallowing at the way she towers over you. Her black eyes find your own, their sharp red X's make you tense. "What do you want to ask?"

"Become my assistant," Arlecchino speaks, her hand comes up to hold your jaw. It's only the slightest bit rough, but not enough to leave a mark. Her nails tap against you. "Be forever by my side. Don't you like the sound of that?"

You did. "Are you sure you want me?"

"That's a stupid question." Arlecchino dismisses, a swift shake of her head results in a stray black strand of hair mixing in with its white counterparts. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want you."

"Right," You breathe. "How incompetent of me. Apologies, My Lady."

Arlecchino hums. "Apology accepted. Now, what do you say?"

Your heart races. Becoming her assistant would mean being able to move up in the ranks. You'd be able to receive certain perks, and be treated better. But, most of all, you'd be with Arlecchino twenty-four seven. Never leaving her side. A sharp jab into your face pulls you back into reality, Arlecchino's doing. "I'd be honored to be by your side, My Lady."

She smirks, your body shivers again. "What will my first task be?"

"It's awfully cold in here," Arlecchino murmurs, her eyes glint in a way that should be terrifying, but it only supplies a hard gulp from you. "Why don't you help your Mistress warm up?"

You nod, and her pleased glance is enough praise.

You're incredibly happy to be serving Arlecchino as her subordinate. Helping no matter the task. So, when she sits down again, you happily fall onto your knees awaiting her next order.

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burntheedges · 4 months

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Maintenance Request: Chapter 5

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ (minors DNI) | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 3.4k

summary: Hot Construction Guy is the bane of your existence — he seems to only pop up at the worst possible moment for you, every time you see him. There’s no way there could be something more there.

Right?

a/n: happy Friday! let's see what's going on with these two. 😏 chapter tags/warnings: banter, food and drink mention (brunch), fluff, mention of breasts

Chapter 5

Friday, September 27 Fifth week of the semester

You looked for your construction guy (HCG, said Beth’s voice in your head) outside when you left your class that Friday, but there was no sign of the crew anywhere. It seemed he’d been right and they had finished their work with the jackhammer in less than 20 minutes.

Damnit.

You looked, but you didn’t see him at all the following week, either. Beth had told you you needed to apologize, and you knew she was right, but you didn’t even know the guy’s name. You didn’t really want to go down to the maintenance office and try to find him, either, Beth. Not with so little to go on.

One morning, though, in the week following the jackhammer incident, you were walking into your building when you stopped, frozen, with your foot on the first step of the stairs to the entrance. Something wasn’t right. You looked up and around, trying to figure out what had caught your eye.

Then it hit you.

The absence of flowers.

All of the chrysanthemums in the beds around your building were gone, replaced with greenery. Not a single flower in sight. You took a deep, easy breath, and smiled a bit at the feeling. You glanced all around, half expecting to see HCG lurking around a corner, watching you notice the change. He wasn’t there, of course. He only appeared in moments when you embarrassed yourself somehow.

But something tripped in the back of your mind. It couldn’t be an accident. You started to wonder.

Maybe it was because of your suspicions about the landscaping change, or maybe it was because of your lingering guilt at the way you’d snapped at HCG, but on Friday you decided to finally put in your maintenance request for the picture that had broken during the pile driver incident. Anything to take your mind off of the look on his face when you’d called your interactions with him a “shitty, unpleasant surprise.”

You weren’t allowed to hang things on the wall in your offices by yourself, and usually you complained about that at length whenever it was needed (they really couldn’t just let you hammer in a few nails? come on). But you were feeling bad about how rude you’d been and you sighed as you finally put in the request for someone to come hang your new frame, complete with the same picture of you and Ellie. You’d reframed it weeks ago but it was just leaning up against the bottom of the wall right below where it used to hang. In the picture you were both making silly faces and just looking at it made you smile, every time. It was time for it to go back up and for you to stop holding a grudge against the need to call in a maintenance request for it.

It didn’t assuage your guilt about the whole situation, but it did make you feel a teensy bit better.

To your surprise, the ticket was processed quickly. You got a notification that someone would be by to take care of it on Monday. That was fast. You shrugged, and made a mental note to prepare that corner of your office before leaving for the weekend.

…

Saturday, September 28 Fifth week of the semester

Most weekends, you and Beth met up for brunch, and Ellie joined you pretty frequently. On this particular Saturday you were watching as she shoveled potatoes into her mouth, barely paying any attention to them, as Beth caught her up on what was going on with HCG.

(At brunch the week before, the day after the jackhammer incident, you’d recounted the entire incident to Beth. She’d sighed, heavily.

“Ok, so you were a bit bitchy to him, but describe his face again?”

“He looked like I’d just punched him,” you’d said, hands over your eyes. “Eyebrows raised, eyes wide, mouth dropped open. Totally taken aback, and like, hurt. Which made me feel even worse.”

Beth had been silent for long enough that you’d finally peeked out from behind your fingers and found her considering you, eyes narrowed. She’d taken a sip of her drink and said, plainly, “he’s into you.” Like it was a fact, something obvious, something everyone knew. Duh, he’s into you.

You’d scoffed. “No way, Beth, I’ve been an asshole to the guy like five times now, that’s ridiculous.”

She’d shaken her head and smirked. “Why would he react like that if he didn’t want you to like him? He keeps coming up to talk to you every time he sees you. He asked you to coffee the first time and shit, he definitely looked at your tits.” You’d shaken your head right back in response through all of her points. She’d rolled her eyes.

“No, I just keep bothering him when he’s working. And he didn’t ask me to coffee, he offered to replace the one I spilled all over myself when I ran into him.”

Beth had leveled an unimpressed look at you, but you’d changed the subject.)

She looked just as unimpressed a week later, and this time she had Ellie to back her up.

“Look, he kept trying to talk to you. He was flirting with you, and you know it.” Beth pointed at you with her fork and raised her eyebrows.

You shook your head. “No, I think he was being normal and I was being rude.”

She rolled her eyes. “He was being polite and friendly, sure, but he was also teasing you, and going out of his way to talk to you. It was more than that. He called you ‘darlin’!” You shook your head again as she added, “And he got rid of the flowers in front of your building.”

“We don’t know that that was him?” You could hear how weak your protest was and she raised her eyebrows as she ignored it.

Ellie snorted. “Who else would it be?”

Beth nodded, agreeing. “No one else knew or cared that you were allergic to them. Hot Construction Guy likes you, dumbass. You know I’m right.” She waved her fork at you again to punctuate her statement. You eyed the bit of egg on the end distrustfully.

Ellie hummed, adding, “you really think this guy would rip up a whole flower bed that he’d just finished putting in if he didn’t like you? As he should, of course, but come on. Doing the whole thing twice? Even if you like flowers and dirt or whatever that’s a lot.”

You sighed. “Ok, even if you are right, I was still a bitch to him last time. Why would he want to talk to me anymore?”

Beth reached out to squeeze your arm. “If that scares him away, he’s not worth it. But I bet it doesn’t. I bet the next time you see him will be different. Besides, didn’t he change out the flower bed after you yelled at him?” She was right, but you didn’t know what it meant. Only what you wanted it to mean.

“Ok, well, we’ll see I guess. But I doubt it. And we still don’t know if that was him!”

Ellie sighed, looking extremely done with your nonsense, and poked you with her spoon. “What’s that thing you tell me all the time, about school? Oh, right. Stop assuming people don’t like you.” Her tone was as dry as the desert and she graced you with an extremely unimpressed raised eyebrow. You smiled, finally, and poked her back.

Beth took pity on you and interrupted your spoon warfare to ask Ellie how school was going, but the idea that HCG might actually like you needled its way into your brain. It stayed there, hovering behind your every thought for the rest of the weekend.

…

Monday, September 30 Sixth week of the semester

On Monday morning, you’d (somewhat) successfully put it all out of your mind — you were going to let the next encounter happen, and just do better. And apologize. But you’d decided that you weren’t going to force it.

At this point you’d probably trip over him on your way to class, anyway.

You made it through your morning class and lunch with no HCG sightings, though. You were pretending not to worry about how long it had been since you’d seen him and trying to focus on grading (as always) during your office hours when someone knocked on your door.

“Come in,” you called absently, barely looking up from the paper in front of you. The sound of someone clearing their throat startled you and you looked up. Your jaw dropped open.

It was him. HCG. He had one hand on your door and one foot inside your office, hovering over the threshold. “Afternoon,” he greeted you, nodding his head. “I’m here about your maintenance request.” He looked cautious, like he was unsure of his welcome, and it pierced you in the chest with the echo of your guilt from the incident the week before.

“You!” This was apparently becoming your standard greeting for him, but at least you didn’t shout it at him this time. You stood up. Do better, this time, you reminded yourself. “I mean, um, hi. Yes, come in. Th- thank you for coming.” He hesitated, but stepped into your office, leaving the door slightly ajar.

“What was it you needed?” He sounded uncertain, still. And that was all your fault.

You took a deep breath, and explained, “um, one of my framed pictures fell the day with the, uh, the pile driver—”

“Ah, damn. I’m sorry-”

“No! No, it’s not your fault. But I just got a new one and wanted to hang it back up, that’s all.” You bit your lip and clasped your hands together in front of you, meeting his gaze with your own, eyes wide.

He raised his eyebrows. “You should’ve told us, we would’ve replaced the frame for you.” You shrugged in response, not sure what to say. “Well, I can definitely do that for you, darlin’. Won’t take but a moment.” You felt your body react to the endearment the way it did every time, though you were usually too distracted by anger or frustration or sneezes to really take note of it. You tried not to be too hopeful about the fact that he was still using it, after you’d been so rude. You stepped forward to hide your reaction.

“Here’s the frame.” You picked up the frame from the floor. “It goes, um, just over there.” You pointed to the empty place on your wall above your desk. He nodded and moved to take it from you.

An awkward silence fell over you as he worked, pulling out the old anchor and nail to replace them with different ones that fit your new, more secure frame. Your eyes fell on his arms and for a moment you just watched the muscles in his shoulders and biceps move until you had to tear your gaze away, overwhelmed. You searched for something to say, for a way to break the increasingly awkward tension, knowing you still needed to apologize.

He beat you to it. Again. His gaze was directed at the wall as he placed the new anchor and his voice was soft.

“Look, darlin’, I’m sorry about all the noise and problems lately. I, uh, I feel like maybe you’ve been getting the worst of it all, and I didn’t mean to upset you. I really am sorry about all of that—”

“No, I’m sorry,” you cut him off and winced a bit at the volume of your voice. The idea that he felt like he needed to apologize to you was galling and you couldn’t let it go on for another second. “I didn’t really mean it that way, what I said. I wanted to take it back right away, but I had class and, well. Sometimes I blurt things out without thinking.” You smiled at him, a bit hesitant. Your hands were laced together in front of you again, clenched so tight your knuckles were white, and you forced them to relax as he looked at you. He smiled back, soft.

“You were right to be annoyed, I felt pretty terrible about how we kept interrupting your day.” He laughed, a bit ruefully, and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. “Wasn’t the best impression, I know.” You tilted your head at him, considering.

“But I knew it wasn’t your fault, right? It’s not like you’re in charge or anything. And even then you can’t change things around for one person. I wasn’t really mad at you, just mad, and I took it out on you. Sorry.” He furrowed his brow at your comment, and started to reply, but you cut him off. “I just realized I don’t even know your name, I’m sorry, that’s so rude of me.” You introduced yourself, and raised your eyebrows at him expectantly.

“Have to confess, I did know yours.” He met your gaze out of the corner of his eye as he hung your picture back on the wall. You nodded — it was on the maintenance request, you knew that. And on your office door. “Joel Miller. Nice to finally meet you.” He turned back to face you, having finished hanging your picture, and held his hand out for you to shake. You took it. His was large and warm and you felt a shiver go up and down your spine at the feeling of it surrounding your own.

You smiled. “Nice to meet you too, Joel.” His name felt nice on your tongue. He smiled back.

You were both silent for a moment, a bit awkward, when he glanced to his left and frowned.

“Has your shelf always had that tilt to it?”

You turned to look, and bit your lip. “I think so? It’s been like that since I moved my stuff into this office, anyway.”

He moved over to it to assess and let go of your hand, which was when you realized you’d been awkwardly holding onto his the whole time. Get it together. You felt your cheeks get warm again. He mumbled something to himself — you only caught “shoddy work” and nothing else. It made you smile, again.

“I can’t fix this today, but I can come back later and make sure this won’t fall off the wall. You sure do have a lot of books.”

You laughed, nodding. “Comes with the territory, I guess.” He smiled at you over his shoulder.

“I liked this one.” To your surprise, he was pointing at a new book of short stories that had just come out last year. You tried not to let it show on your face, but you could see that he noticed. “No, it’s alright, I know I don’t look like the type to know about it or enjoy it. My daughter keeps me well-read, always picking books for me to read that she liked or thinks I’d like. She’s planning to come here in a few years, when she graduates.”

Suddenly you realized you’d gone from knowing nothing about this man (except how hot he was) to learning so many new things about him in just a few minutes that you felt a bit winded, a bit out of breath. Hot Construction Guy — Joel — was even more interesting up close. But you were also cautious at the mention of a daughter. You glanced down and saw he wasn’t wearing a ring, at least. When you looked back up you saw that he had followed your gaze to his left hand, and you knew you were caught.

You cleared your throat, embarrassed. “Oh? Thinking she wants to be an English major?” You smiled at the thought, trying to stay on topic.

“She’s not sure, but I haven’t exactly been pushing. She has plenty of time to decide, she’s only a sophomore now.” You nodded, agreeing. That was a refreshing outlook to hear from a parent. He tilted his head and gave you an intent look before he continued, “it’s just the two of us, so she keeps me on my toes enough as it is.” You felt yourself smile widely in response. So he wanted you to know he was single, then. Interesting.

“My niece, Ellie, is the same.” You pointed at the picture he’d just hung up, and he followed your gaze and smiled. It looked good on him. He looked much more relaxed than he had when he’d arrived at your office. You’d started to feel a bit lighter, too, since it seemed your apology had been well-received.

Maybe he was interested after all. Why else would he point out that he wasn’t with anyone? You hoped you weren’t reading into that.

After a moment Joel ran his hand through his hair and started to reach for his bag. “Well, darlin’, I won’t take up any more of your time. But I’ll put in another ticket for you for the shelf, be back soon to work on it.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“It’s fine, really, happy to do it.” He smiled and picked up his bag of tools as he backed towards the door. “See you then.” As he stepped through the door, a thought occurred to you, something you’d been worrying over with Beth and wondering about.

“Joel, wait,” you called out to him as he was about to disappear from view, and he poked his head back into your office. “Do you know anything about the plants outside this building? I noticed the flowers were gone. It’s been, well. A relief.” You could see him hesitate, before he seemed to settle on a tiny smirk.

“Can’t say as I do, darlin’.” He winked at you and walked off before you could press him on it. But you knew he was lying. Left alone in your office, you couldn’t wipe the huge smile off your face.

…

you (1:42 PM): BETH (1:43 PM): GUESS WHO JUST CAME BY TO HANG MY PICTURE BACK UP

bestie (1:46 PM): HCG???? (1:46 PM): no way

you (1:47 PM): and GUESS WHO DID GET RID OF THE FLOWERS OUTSIDE

bestie (1:48 PM): I KNEW IT (1:48 PM): I TOLD YOU (1:48 PM): the man is INTO you (1:49 PM): what did he say???

you (1:50 PM): well he started apologizing to ME, which was ridiculous so I interrupted and apologized to him (1:50 PM): he said he felt bad that they were constantly interrupting my day (1:51 PM): and his name is Joel btw

bestie (1:52 PM): excuse me his name is HCG (1:52 PM): but I’ll allow it

you (1:53 PM): and it turns out he READS (1:53 PM): he recognized that book of short stories I reviewed in the spring

bestie (1:55 PM): ok that’s random

you (1:56 PM): right?? apparently his daughter gets him to read new stuff

bestie (1:56 PM): wait, daughter? (1:56 PM): is there a wife? partner?

you (1:58 PM): no he caught me looking at his left hand like a total weirdo and then he EMPHASIZED that it’s just the two of them (1:58 PM): like that was the next thing he said (1:58 PM): “it’s just the two of us”

bestie (1:59 PM): oh he wants you (1:59 PM): he’s INTO YOU (1:59 PM): like there is no reason to say that otherwise

you (2:00 PM): I KNOW (2:01 PM): he’s coming back to fix my wonky shelves

bestie (2:01 PM): good and then you can jump him

you (2:02 PM): BETH (2:02 PM): no

bestie (2:04 PM): beth yes (2:04 PM): get him (2:05 PM): who doesn’t have an office sex fantasy, seriously

you (2:06 PM): 🙄 (2:07 PM): anyone who has to have office hours in that same office with undergrads three times a week

bestie (2:09 PM): you always ruin my fun

you (2:12 PM): 🙄

…

Ellie (6:07 PM): i told you he did the flowers

you (6:08 PM): yeah yeah brainiac you were right

Ellie (6:08 PM): obviously (6:09 PM): look i don’t want any ~details~ but he should do that kind of stuff for you (6:09 PM): if he likes you (6:09 PM): or else 🔪

you (6:10 PM): love you too, kid

Ellie (6:12 PM): 🔪

...

a/n: yes, that really is the rule at some places (about not hanging things yourself). see you next Friday. :) prev | next

tag list: @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @katareyoudrilling @anoverwhelmingdin @myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fic #x reader #maintenance request fic #my fic #JHCGBDM

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

The Stranger 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.

Part of the Backwoods AU

Note: My first time writing this character!

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your nails are crusted in dirt as you kneel in the garden. You grunt as you wrestle the roots of weed from the soil and toss it aside. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove as you hear the screen door snap shut. Your grandmother stands on the stoop, her hand on her achy hip.

“Did you hear, dearie?” She calls in her creaky voice. “Someone’s moved into Clyde’s old house.”

“Huh?” You catch your breath as you gather up the broken weeds, “it’s half ash.”

“Suppose they’ll fix it up,” she mutters as she leans on the narrow iron rail along the side of the backsteps.

“Suppose,” you agree as you stuff the green and brown foliage into the paper bag for the compost. “Who told you that?”

“I was just talking to Lynette on the phone. She also said Molly’s having her fifth.”

Five kids? You hide your chagrin at the thought. You don’t mind kids but that’s a lot to handle, let alone the pregnancies. Molly balloon’s up so big she can hardly move. Her last shower, she sat the whole time. Not much different than you, you guess. You sat in the corner and watched the silly games

“That’s exciting,” you say as you stand and dust off your knees, crumpling the top of the bag in your other hand.

“Ah, I’m sure you woulda loved to have four sisters? Maybe brothers? It’s a pity your mother never gave me any more grandchildren.”

“Mmm,” you suppress a frown, “yeah, well…”

“Anyhow, enough talk of spoiled milk,” she waves off, “I got a pie in the oven. You can take it over the Clyde’s once it cools.”

“I… why would I do that?”

“Oh my, don’t be ridiculous. We have a new neighbour, we have to be polite and welcome them to the village. It’s probably a nice family, or maybe someone your age. A friend?” She suggests, “I’d do it myself but I don’t think I’d make the walk…” she looks down at her hip, theatrically rubbing it.

“Right,” you agree, the prospect of strangers making your tummy lurch. “Well, that pie will take some time.”

“Long enough for you to put on something clean,” she tuts as she looks down at your dirty jeans, “my lord, what would they think?”

“Yes, gramma, I’ll change, once I get this in the compost.”

“Good,” she smirks triumphantly and turns to swing open the screen door, the hinges whining shrilly.

You sniff and cross the yard. It’s not often there’s new faces in Hammer Ford. The village is a tourist trap at best and not a very lively one. Everyone calls each other by name and it’s second nature to stop and say hi. But that’s because you know each other; you have for years.

You lift the lid on the large bin and empty the bag into it. You could always lie and hide the pie in some bushes. Your deceit wouldn’t be hidden for long. Even in this sleepy place, word travels fast and someone always seems to be watching and waiting to pass it on.

🥧

You head out with the pie in a basket like some fairytale. You’re only short a red hood and a big bad wolf. You set off down the country roads, following the lazy curves towards the horizon. It’s after noon and the sun’s turning mild as it drifts across its pale canvas.

The old homestead is the second closest to your grandmother’s. The homes around Hammer Ford or sprawled out amid the plowed fields and green meadows. The cluster of old pines loom over you as you pass in there shadow and crest the hill that marks the edge of the property. Clyde’s tractor used to sit there, just by the broken down fence.

Ahead, down another stretch of road, this path unpaved, stands the decrepit house. The tragedy still singes the memories of the villagers. That night comes back to you in a blaze of orange and the smell of cinder. Poor old Clyde was buried behind Sacred Stave church.

You search the overgrown grass for a sign of life. There’s a black truck by the caved in garage but that’s about it. It might not be a family. It’s a lot of work to do with little ones around. If anything, it would only be the parents as they rebuild. Your mind wanders, wondering who would buy the old farm and why.

You come down the path, just along the ditch that dips behind a cluster of brambles. There’s a snap and a crack and you skid to a halt on the stones. You spin and look around, a heavy breath pluming into the air. Like the fire reawakened.

“Can I help you?” The deep timbre rolls through you and you step back on your heel as you face the man down in the ditch. He peers up at you above the scraggly top of the brambles.

“Uh,” you gulp and stare at him dumbly. He might think you’re lost. Or worse, trespassing.

His hair is short, only an inch on top and shaved even shorter around the sides. His beard is thick around his mouth, growing sparse across his cheeks, and two vibrant blue eyes beam back at you. The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink away. You can sense the city radiating off of him. He scares you.

“Hello? What’s up?” He waves as if trying to wake you up.

“Um, pie?” You say, cringing at your own speechlessness.

“Pie,” he repeats flatly.

You hold up the basket and blink. You never were very good at introductions. You were the only girl at school without friends. You were just sort of there.

“Pie,” you echo once more and hold out the basket.

He tilts his head, curiously, and huffs. He juts out his jaw and grunts as he pushes the brambles apart and climbs out of the ditchy. His denim jacket is streaked in dirty and pollen.

He takes the basket by the handle, his rough finger brushing yours. He peels back the cloth and to peek inside, “pie.” He utters the syllable a fourth time between you.

“Yeah,” your voice is wispy and small. “Bye.”

You let out a strained breath and spin, keeping yourself from breaking into a sprint. You stomp away frantically, smacking yourself internally for being so awkward. Well, maybe that’s a good thing. He’ll have no reason to talk to you ever again.

#chris #destroyer #dark!Chris #chris x reader #dark chris #drabble #backwoods au #au #series #the stranger

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 6 days

Note

Congratulations!!

If you feel inspired by this combo and have time, could you write a ficlet using "I", 🍨, 🥰 or 😂, and 🔨?

Thank you!

(Apologies if you already got this ask--my device froze when I sent it the first time, so I don't know if it went through)

Thank you so much! 🥰I still remember your lovely comments on the mer-dude fic, so I hope you enjoy this little bonus! 🦕❤️🧜🏻‍♂️

Of mates and mer-dudes

Words: 996

Rated: T

Tags: summer camp AU; mer!Steve; established relationship; flirting; sexual tension; fade to black

Notes: Set in the same universe as Just add water

“Hammer.”

“Hammer,” Eddie repeats dutifully. Dustin spends two or three seconds trying to drive the nail in with the object he's been handed, until he realizes it's a screwdriver.

“Very funny. I said hammer.”

“Apologies,” Eddie mutters, chucking the screwdriver back into the mess that is their toolbox with one hand and wiping his sunburnt forehead with the other. “I think we've been out here longer than is strictly healthy. How ‘bout we call it a day and head back to camp? It's almost dinner time.”

Dustin scowls. The hair under his Thinking Cap is matted with sweat and he is red-faced and splotchy. An unavoidable side effect of working out on the secluded pier all afternoon.

“We can't just stop now, it's almost done,” Dustin claims, gesturing at their rickety construction of wood and mesh - it’s supposed to be an oversized fish trap, even though Eddie thinks it’s turning out to be more of a funky modern art installation. “This'll work, I know it. This time, I'll prove that Lovie is real. All those past times, it got away too quickly, but if I could just-”

“Jesus, kid,” Eddie groans. “You and your lake monster. You don't know when to give up, do you?”

“Give up?” Dustin scoffs. “If Thomas Edison had given up, we'd still be lighting candles. If Homer Ahr had given up, we would've never walked on the moon. I sure as hell won't-?”

“The fuck is Homer Ahr?”

Dustin heaves a long-suffering sigh.

“Only mission control's chief engineer, Eddie? Honestly, that's the kinda question I'd expect from Steve, not you. Where is he, by the way? I thought he wanted to help us.”

“No idea,” Eddie admits. “Lucky bastard.”

Dustin draws a breath, probably to ask what he means, but Eddie is saved by the sound of the dinner bell floating over from the camp grounds.

“Okay, you gremlin, off you go,” he says, pushing the kid towards the sound before another argument can break loose. “We can finish this tomorrow when we aren't dehydrated and grouchy.”

Dustin grumbles. “What about you?”

Eddie waves him off. “Be there in a sec, lemme put away your shit first.”

He starts picking up their scattered tools, throwing them back into the box. Only when he's sure that Dustin is well out of earshot does he collapse at the edge of the pier, naked feet dangling over the water's surface.

“Man,” he says. “That kid, right?”

There's a soft growl from behind him, and the barest of sloshing sounds, and a shadow falls over him. He only just manages to suck in a breath - knowing he'll need it - before a massive snout pushes between his shoulder blades and he goes plummeting into the lake. He’s dimly aware of the toolbox going down with him, and then the world vanishes in a whirl of bubbles.

He resurfaces to the feeling of arms wrapping around his waist and massive fins brushing his legs, and the sound of laughing voices - one human, one very much not so. He tries to glower at their owners, but actually needs a second to part the sopping curtain of his hair.

“So fucking hilarious, you aquatic asshats. I thought I told you to quit doing that.”

Lovie the lake creature just chirps merrily and dives back under again, splashing him with her fins as she goes.

Steve shrugs. The motion makes tiny droplets of water run down his bare shoulders and collarbones, bringing out his freckles and moles and tiny, glittering scales. Eddie wants to lick them. He has long stopped worrying about what that says about him.

“Sorry. She just wants you in the water with us. She likes it when the flock is together.”

His smile is apologetic, but his tail curls around Eddie’s legs in the water, fins wrapping around the two of them possessively.

Because, see, here's the thing. Over the past year, Eddie has not only discovered that his infuriatingly pretty fellow camp counselor is a mermaid and the guardian of an ancient lake creature. He has also somehow managed to score said mer-dude as a boyfriend and been adopted into the lake creature's flock.

“She never does that shit with Buckley,” he grouses, even though Steve’s words make something flutter in his chest. Steve's touch, also - hands on his hips, fins on his ankles. “She's part of the flock, too, isn't she?”

“Yeah…” Steve blushes, a delicious pink hue on wet, sun-tanned skin. Eddie wants to lick that, too. “But Robin isn't my…”

He trails off into an unintelligible mumble after that. Eddie wrinkles his brow.

“Your what? Come again, fish boy, I didn’t-”

“My mate,” Steve blurts, and the fins on his hips flutter excitedly under Eddie’s fingers. “Robin isn’t my mate.”

Eddie feels his mouth drop open. The water is unpleasantly cold against his flushed skin.

“Wait,” he says when he finally remembers how to form words again. “Hold on a second. When did that happen?”

Steve’s face is still scarlet, but his lips start twitching when he meets Eddie’s eyes. “That’s just the way she sees it. You can’t expect her to think in human standards. Now c’mon, we gotta get to dinner or the kids will wonder where-”

“Oh, no!” Eddie interrupts him, mouth tugging into a stupid, wide grin of his own. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You don’t get to tell me that we’ve been mer-mated for God knows how long and never officially consummated that sacred connection. I’m gonna get a mer-divorce if you don’t-”

“Oh God, shut up,” Steve groans, and kisses him.

As he gets dragged off to their favorite little shore, well out of sight from the camp grounds, Eddie bids a brief mental farewell to the toolbox lying abandoned at the ground of the lake. He’ll have to make up some story about where it went when Dustin asks him, but that's a problem for later.

For now, he’s got other things to think about.

More celebration ficlets

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #just add water #hype's 1k follower ficlets

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the-californicationist · 2 months

Text

Good Fences (Fluffuary #23)

FEB23: Established Love

John had been on tour through the spring and summer, and you’d spent the warm months alone. For part of it, he could talk to you freely, but near the end of his duty, he had warned you that he’d need to “go dark” for a while. Days had turned into weeks, and weeks had become months. The fiery sun had shifted across the sky, and what was once a humid morning now had a cold nip in the air.

Then, as if he had come in on the change in the winds, he was back. Or, a version of him was, anyway.

He had been home for a few days, and while he had told you that “it” was “over”, he had been changed by whatever it was, and he hadn’t told you much else. You noticed he was sleeping for only a few hours at a time. Sometimes, he would wake you up in the mornings with a ravenous, animalistic need, and other times you would find him on the balcony, drinking coffee, enjoying the sunrise. Sometimes he would go out in the middle of the night for a cigar, and some nights he would be at your neck and your breasts and your hips with his lips and his teeth. You never knew which John you were going to get.

But, he also seemed relieved. It was as if he had been running, sprinting full out, and had finally reached his destination.

One morning, while you were showering together, he was soaping your body as well as his own, and he made a suggestion,

“We should go to the Smithsonian today. They have the Klimt exhibit you were talking about. I looked it up last night, and it’s there this week.”

It wasn’t out of character for John to suggest a day trip, but he hated D.C., and you had only mentioned the Klimt exhibition off-handedly back in January, so it was a bit of a shock.

“Yeah, John,” you rubbed his body with the lather, marveling at how toned and thick his muscles had become, “That sounds nice. We can take the train.”

You admired his body as you washed him, but you also felt the shade of contempt rising like bile in your throat. He was hardened by whatever had happened to him, by whatever hell they had put him through. He was only made to look like this broad, cut Adonis because they (whoever they were) had used him like a hammer to a nail. And you resented them for it.

As much as his heavy form stirred your core and made you crave that strength to be used on you, you wanted to rinse it away. You wanted your soft bear back. You wanted him to be chubby and happy and filled with cheesecakes and champagne and bagels in the morning. You didn’t want him to be a hammer. You wanted him to be your lover, and you thought, selfishly, that it should be his only responsibility. The world, you decided, could save itself. He deserved peace.

But, that wasn’t up to you. He was his own man. You tried to put those thoughts out of your mind, but you had to admit that this last tour had been hard on both of you.

The train ride was quiet, as was the stroll down to the museum. John held your hand as you walked through the exhibits, and when you came to the hall that housed the visiting Klimt pieces, you gasped.

There, in all of its golden glory, was The Kiss.

You stepped toward it, marveling at the gold and watching the light dance across it. The Lovers were there, locked in their perpetual embrace, and she was at his mercy, literally on her knees for him, held tightly in his hands.

John’s voice rumbled in his chest, and he said,

“That’s how I feel about you. I feel as if I’ve never loved anyone until now. I’ve never been loved, and I’ll never be loved again. Not like this.”

You turned away from the masterpiece you’d been admiring to face your very own lover, looking up at him and letting his words sink into your bones, wrapping around them like golden threads, never to be taken back.

Then, it was his turn to be on his knees. You watched him fall to the floor, confused at first and then —

“Marry me, love. I can’t live without you by my side. Please.”

He offered you the ring, a huge, round pearl surrounded by diamonds. It looked like it cost as much as the painting. You felt hot, heavy tears flowing down your face, and you didn’t even realize you’d been crying.

But, you managed to nod and whisper,

“Yes. God, yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The ring fit like it had been made just for you, and he rose from the ground and clutched you to his chest. All at once, you knew how the girl in the painting felt. You kissed John, and in doing so, you knew how she had kissed her robed man. You could imagine how the blood had rushed through her body, flushing her cheeks and pooling in her belly, responding to her love’s embrace. John was him, and you were her, and you were one.

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messedupfan · 6 months

Text

Chapter 6

Summary: Vision attempts to make a threat to Y/n. Tommy and Billy start a new activity. And Y/n is debating on exploring a romantic relationship but is worried about the consequences.

A/N: HELLLOOO!!! I've FINALLY been able to finish writing a chapter. So sorry it took so long! Hope y'all are well. Lemme know what you think! Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Chapters | All Stories Taglist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On Sunday afternoon, Wanda is anxiously waiting for her kids to arrive. To avoid a messy situation with Vision, she sends Pietro out to pick up food from a place an hour away that her boys really love to eat from. You continue to work as she paces around the house. Adjusting decorations here and there, fussing over every little thing since Luna is sitting at the kitchen table being entertained by her tablet. A rare moment that Wanda actually wishes that her niece was being a distraction.

As it gets closer to the time they're meant to be dropped off, Wanda begins to work herself up. Ranting to herself she gets angrier and angrier by the second. Saying that he's the reason their marriage fell apart. That he's the one that left her for a child. That she shouldn’t be worried about how he's going to act after what happened last Sunday since it was his unacceptable behavior that caused the incident in the first place.

“Wanda,” you call out firmly to stop her on her tracks. She looks at you with a glare that's meant for her ex and you smile at her. Despite how terrifying that glare is. “Can you help me hammer some nails in? Put some of that energy into good use.” You hold the handle of the hammer out to her.

“Sure, uh,” Wanda blinks a couple of times to clear her head. “What do you want me to do?” She takes the hammer.

You set up two pieces of wood that don't really need to have nails in them but figure since they're useless to you they can be useful in this moment. “Just imagine these nails are your ex-husband.” You lay some nails out on the table next to the piece of wood.

Wanda walks over and stands in front of you. Her anger blinds her from all that she was taught as a young girl and she raises the hammer a little too high for your liking. You grab her wrist, wrapping your body around her from behind, to stop her as she starts to bring it down. “What?” She snaps.

“Last I checked, you need your thumb. Go at it slowly at first. You want to get the nail sturdy before you go crazy on it so that you don't lose your fingers,” you explain yourself and demonstrate the pace she should start with by guiding her hand that is holding the hammer. “See? He's already taken your sanity, he doesn't deserve your fingers,” you say jokingly and it makes Wanda laugh a little.

“Aw isn't this sweet,” Vision says as he hands Tommy and Billy their duffle bags. You step away from Wanda and clear your throat because you're not sure how that might've looked to Vision. More so what it looked like to the boys.

Wanda hits the hammer hard causing the nail to split the wood and she drops the hammer on the table. “Vision, you're late.”

“Well, I figured since my time got eaten into last week, you wouldn't mind if I took some of yours in exchange. Besides, I was getting the boys new gear.” Vision explains as he steps closer. “By the looks of it, I probably should have come a little later. I do apologize for interrupting, but please. Not in front of the children.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “Whatever you're thinking was happening, it wasn't.” She smiles for her kids and gets to their level. “What gear did you boys need?”

The twins show their mom what Vision got for them as they excitedly open the duffles to reveal all of the new martial arts gear that their dad got for them. “You should be getting an email of their schedule soon. They start this week,” Vision explains. Then he walks over to you as Wanda gives her full attention to the boys as they unpack their bags. “My boys wouldn’t stop talking about you and your daughter all week. I hope that we can come to an understanding that nothing complicated happens between you and their mother. I’d hate for them to lose a friend,” he says in a low tone and your eyebrows crease in confusion.

“Vision,” you start awkwardly, not really used to saying his name. “I’m only here as a favor to Pietro. There is nothing romantic happening between Wanda and I.”

Vision tips his head to the side and pulls his phone out, “That’s not what it looked like the other night.” On his screen is an image of you and Wanda smiling at the restaurant. Other than being creeped out that he somehow acquired this picture, you can’t help but be impressed by the quality of the image.

“Hey that’s pretty good,” you pull out your phone, “if I give you my number do you think you could send me that? I don’t normally photograph this well.” Vision is thrown off by your response and he isn’t sure how to continue this conversation. He was expecting you to ask how he got the picture and then he was going to say that he has eyes everywhere in a threatening tone and you were supposed to be afraid of him. Not requesting him to send you the picture. He planned this all out the moment he got the picture. Vision is offended that you have gone so far off of the mental script he had. “Oh you know what, send it to Wanda. She has my number.” Vision steps back and clenches his jaw. There’s no way his ex can know that he has the photo. “That isn’t a problem. Is it?”

“No, no, it's uh, there’s no problem.” Vision puts his phone into his pocket and clears his throat. “That seemed more than friendly,” he states, trying to gain some sort of control in the conversation. You shrug.

“I’m sure it does. I mean, a picture can be worth a thousand words and all that but those words depend on the person who is seeing it. When I look at it, I remember the situation that the two of us were laughing about. You see a romantic date. I'm sure whoever took the picture thought it was worth sending to you for the same reason.” Vision's face starts to turn red and you aren't certain from what but you continue. “I can tell you the truth all I want but you have your picture and an idea of what's happening there. It doesn't matter what I tell you.”

“Is everything alright over here?” Wanda asks as she approaches. The boys are running up the stairs behind her so they can put away their new gear in their room.

Vision smiles and pats you on the back, “Everything is perfectly splendid. I was apologizing to your friend here about the scene I may have caused last weekend. I was highly emotional. Virginia and I are expecting a girl and well,” he doesn't continue after the dark expression that passes over his ex's features. Vision clears his throat and steps away from you. “I will see you next Sunday, Wanda.” He walks out the front door.

You watch Wanda and can tell she is struggling with something internally. You want to ask her the significance of what Vision just said but you don't want to pry. “When do you think Pietro will get back?” You ask in order to snap Wanda out of whatever was starting to eat her up.

“Um… um… I'm not sure,” she is fighting to come back to the present. She doesn't want to live in the past anymore. She doesn't want to fall into herself again about something that wasn't meant to be. She has her boys. They are enough, she doesn’t need more than them.

“The twins seem excited about martial arts,” you say conversationally, trying to help her leave her head. “I think I'll be back here fixing holes in the walls in no time.”

“Why’s that?” She asks as she tries to stay grounded to the conversation.

“Well you never know, they might become super ninjas and start punching holes in the walls,” you make funny motions and noises to get a reaction out of her and Wanda does smile a little.“Then they might start karate chopping your tables and well,” you make the chopping motion with your hand and Wanda lets out a laugh at the image. “Sure, you can call your brother to fix those things but come on. Once this addition is done, you know you'll look for any excuse to get me back in here.”

“Oh is that so?” She challenges with a smirk.

“Oh yeah,” you wink playfully. “You’re going to miss me taking forever to get the job done.” Wanda shakes her head and takes a deep breath as she is finally free from her head.

“Thank you,” she says as she reaches for your hand to give you a soft squeeze.

“Anytime,” you squeeze back. When the front door opens the both of you quickly pull away. As if you'll be caught doing something wrong again. Pietro comes in with bags of food and calls for his nephews to wash their hands and come down stairs. You follow Wanda to the kitchen and stand by her as she washes her hands in the sink as you wait for your turn. Once your hands are clean, you help her set the table despite her insisting that you didn't have to.

Because you don't have Rachel with you, you stay to work a little bit longer than last time because you hate how empty your apartment is when she isn't there. “As much as I appreciate your dedication,” Wanda starts as she crosses the duct tape line to hand you a water bottle. “I think you should head home. Besides, I need to get these kids to bed and loud saws and drills don't really help with that.”

You check your watch and your eyes widen at the time, “Oh wow, I'm sorry. I didn't realize. Let me pack up and I'll be out of your hair.”

“It’s okay, really,” Wanda says as you pack your equipment that you'll need for work tomorrow. “You got so focused I almost didn't want to stop you,” she admits.

You didn't really hear her as you weren't very graceful in packaging, you keep dropping things and making way more noise than normal. “Thank you for letting me stay after Pietro left. I'll see you next weekend?” You ask as you're stumbling towards the door with your gear.

“Would you like to see me sooner than that?” Wanda asks as she holds the door open.

You nearly lose your grip on your bags when she asks. A wave of nervousness comes over you and you aren't quite sure why. You know she isn't interested in dating… wait. No you don't. You think she isn't but she hasn't ever blatantly told you that. “Um sure, if you and the boys have a free day, I think I can convince the ex-mrs to come out with Rach,” you offer.

Wanda shrugs with an odd expression, “Yeah, we could do something like that.”

“Alright then,” you respond awkwardly, “I’ll uh get in touch with you sometime this week.”

“Okay,” Wanda nods once. “I’ll see you later.” She shuts the door once you're at your truck.

When you get home, you're surprised that you're not ready to fall into bed and crash for the night. You check the time again and figure that it couldn't hurt to give Phil a visit. So you grab your coat, wallet, and keys and make your way to The Hub. Walking in, there isn't much life around and you notice that there isn't anyone behind the bar but you take a seat on one of the stools anyway and wait for someone to appear. Hoping that your old boss is still around so that this visit isn’t for nothing. The wait for someone to come out from the back is longer than you anticipated it would be. You know that when you worked here, no one would have gotten away with this. That is until she is standing in front of you. She’s not who you came here to see but she’s someone that you've been debating on seeing more of.

“You know that I gave you my number so that you could call me, right?” Daisy says as she grabs a glass to clean.

“I like to talk face to face,” you shrug, “I guess I'm old fashioned that way.”

“So you did come here for me,” she returns the glass to its spot under the bar and leans on the counter. “Two days isn't too bad. I've waited by the phone longer and for much less.”

You laugh, “Daisy, I can't date you without talking about it with your dad first.”

She scoffs and steps back, “I’m not a child, I don't need his permission. I don't see why you do?”

“Come on, I respect your dad. He helped me through a rough time. I wouldn't feel right asking you out without his blessing.” You explain and look around the bar.

“Wow, you are old fashioned,” Daisy mutters.

“Is he here?” You ask as you tap your fingers against the counter.

“No, he went home after posting the schedules for the week,” she explains. She looks around the establishment to scan the customers before landing her eyes back on you. “Is that really why you came here?” She asks, a little shy. The girl was being bold in giving you her number but she wasn't expecting you to use it or actually be interested in her. The fact that you might've come here to get permission to ask her out has her mind spinning.

“Might be,” you respond, unsure yourself about why you came here. Maybe a part of you does want to explore something with Daisy. “But he's not here so I should go home.”

“Or you can stay and we can chat like we used to,” she leans against the surface between the two of you again as you’re reminded of when the positions were reversed and you were on the other side of the bar. You were around the age she is now. Maybe a little older. On slow nights she was allowed to sit and do her homework at the bar. Especially when she was grounded. Whenever she was going through something tough during her senior year in high school you would talk to her and give the best advice that you could. The reminder of how young she was when you first got to know her makes the idea of dating her uncomfortable to you. However, as you look at her now, you don't see her as a child as you once did. She looks more mature and as she had pointed out, she is an adult now. Would it be so wrong to explore something with her? She is only five years younger than you.

“Still having boy troubles in school?” You ask with a teasing expression.

Daisy scoffs with a shake of her head. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back. “First of all, I never had boy troubles in school.”

“Right, it was girl troubles,” you quip with a grin.

“I think I'm going to take back that offer,” Daisy mutters as she tries to hide her growing smile.

You shrug, “If that's what you want to do. By all means. A person is allowed to change their mind.”

“Ugh, you're no fun. You're not going to let me know how you feel at all before you talk to my dad?” She steps forward and grabs another glass to clean with a rag in order to keep her hands busy.

“Oh, were you trying to bait me?” you laugh a little to yourself. “Daisy,” you start.

“I like the way you say my name,” she interrupts.

You shake your head a little bit and don't pay further attention to her comment. “Daisy, no matter how a person feels about you. Never let them use those feelings as a weapon to manipulate you into staying with them. If you want out, you're allowed to have an exit. You're allowed to change your mind about a person.”

Daisy nods as she accepts your advice that she didn't know she needed. “Don’t bite my head off for this question. But is that something you learned from your divorce?”

You sigh as you consider how to answer that. “Maybe,” you look at your hands with a frown, “I’m not proud of myself but I… Well, one day Jean admitted to me that she had fallen out of love with me and I convinced her to stay married to me in the hopes that she would feel that love for me again some day. Give me a chance to save our marriage.” You sigh as you remember that time in your life that you don't think about anymore. “It was the most miserable year of our lives.”

“Wow,” Daisy has moved on from cleaning glasses to wiping down the counter. “Is that why she's married now and you're not? Because she stopped being in love with you but you didn't with her?”

You are a little thrown off by the deeply personal questioning but you're not against answering. Even when she apologizes and tells you not to answer. “No, it's okay to be curious. I think that even the people that knew us from the beginning have that same assumption. But no, that's not why I'm still single. I held onto that marriage a year longer than I should've only because I didn't want to admit that I had also fallen out of love with her. Especially since I had dreamt of marrying her since we were in the third grade.” You look Daisy in the eyes as you continue. “I couldn't let go of the fairytale.”

Daisy nods as she falls deep in thought, “I could see how that would be hard to do.” The conversation gets lighter from there and the two of you talk for a couple of hours until you have to call it a night. It makes you feel better about talking to Phil about dating her. You never saw yourself in this position but you think back to Kate encouraging you to go for it. She has a gut instinct that you trust a little bit more than your own.

When you return the next evening after work, Phil is there. You ask to speak to him privately, he takes you to his office and he worries that you might be in financial trouble again. You quickly reassure him that isn't the case and he relaxes. “I never thought I'd ever ask you this but here it goes,” you clear your throat as you think of how to phrase the question. “Well, you know that I have nothing but respect for you, sir. You're like my second father.” He thanks you and asks you to get to the point because he has a business to run. “Right, um, when I was here the other day, Daisy gave me her phone number. She has since told me that she wants to explore a romantic relationship with me. I had never seen her as a potential partner until then and I didn't want to do anything without you knowing, Phil. If you don't want me to date your daughter, I swear to you that I won't do it.”

Phil crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “What about that girl you brought here? The two of you seemed pretty cozy,” he points out.

“We are just friends,” you correct, once again. “She needed a night out, I mean her ex is a piece of work.” You shake your head at the reminder of the drama that man causes.

Phil nods, “So you're doing free work for her out of the kindness in your heart? No ulterior motive?”

“Come on Phil, you know me. I would never do something like that,” you reply, a little offended by the accusation.

“Do I know you,” he asks with a scowl. “Because I never saw this conversation coming. Not from you,” he sits forward on his desk. “You used to babysit her.”

“Phil, I have wrestled with this since she asked me out. I can't explain it, we were talking last night - just talking - and I think that we might have a connection. This isn't about an inappropriate relationship, because it wouldn't be it's…” you sigh as you fail to find the proper words with his disappointed glare distracting and insulting. “I know that in your eyes, no one is or ever will be good enough for her and I'm not saying that I am, but… she is an adult. And I think, correct me if I'm wrong, that you trust her enough to make her own decisions. You haven't said a definitive no yet so something tells me that you're not against the idea. Unless I'm wrong and I'm giving you another opportunity to say no and I won't ever bring it up again. I swear.”

Phil sighs and looks at the picture of him and Daisy in his desk. It's an old picture of the two of them going down the slide at a park. He wishes that she could have stayed that small but you were right. She is an adult now. “Do you love her?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the photo.

You rub your face, “I don't know yet. I've never thought about her that way before but… I'd like the chance to find out.” You truthfully admit because the last thing you're ever going to do is lie to him.

“Okay, I will allow it,” he looks in your direction as he talks. You are shocked but filled with relief. “You better not mess this up, you only have one shot at this.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it, really.” The two of you hug and he kicks you out of his office telling you to make plans with his daughter when he isn't around. She didn't work today so that wasn't a problem. You walked home a little excited about the idea of dating again.

Later that week, while you're cooking dinner you get a phone call and answer frantically as you're completely ruining your meal. “Hey, are you doing anything tonight?” The familiar voice asks over the phone. The smoke alarm goes off as the pan catches fire and you drop the phone on the kitchen counter.

“Hold on!” You shout as you cover the pan with the lid, run to open the windows, turn on the fans, and wave the kitchen rag in front of the alarm to keep the smoke away long enough to shut off the horrible noise. Once the beeping stops you breathlessly pick up the phone and see that it was Wanda calling. “Hey, sorry, what were you saying?”

You are met with uncontrollable laughter from Wanda that makes you cackle a bit as well. “I’m sorry, it's not funny,” she says as she tries to contain her laughter. “Are you okay?” You confirm that you are but your food isn't. “Perfect!”

“How so? I don't think that almost dying of asphyxiation is perfect.” You throw in sarcastically.

“No, I just mean since you have nothing to eat and I have more than I can eat that it's perfect! You can come over here for dinner,” she invites happily.

“Are you sure?” You say looking at the time and figuring that you don't have a lot of time to prepare anything else and you really don't want to get takeaway.

“I wouldn't have called if I wasn't,” she says with something in her mouth.

“No I'm sure you wouldn't but um, what about Vision?” you ask carefully. “He hardly likes it when I'm around the boys when I'm working. I'd hate for his private investigator to report to him that I was there when I wasn't. Especially since you have the boys this week.” You explain yourself as you check your burnt food and think of the best way to dispose of it.

“It won't be a problem,” Wanda says with a grumble in her tone at the idea that her ex-husband is still making it difficult for her to have friends. “The boys made some friends at their karate practice and I guess the class has a sleepover for the new kids whenever they join to make sure everyone gets to know each other well. I don't know. All I know is that my house is empty when it shouldn't be and I could really use the company. I was hoping that maybe you could too?”

You understand how it feels when Rachel has a sleepover on a night when you have her. It's a crummy feeling because on the one hand, you're happy whenever she has friends and gets to create those fun memories that come with sleepover adventures. On the other hand, you only get so much time with her that you don't want to share it with anyone.

“Alright, I'll be right over,” you say as you grab your keys. She cheers over the phone before hanging up. You grab a bottle of wine that you think she might like as you leave your apartment. It was a gift that you otherwise wouldn't drink yourself. Wanda answers the door with a glass of wine in her hand and you laugh as you hold up the bottle that you brought with you.

“Oh good, you brought your own. I really wasn't in the mood to share,” she says jokingly as she lets you inside. You smile and set it down on the dining table.

“And here I thought it was going to be a gift for you,” you walk into the kitchen and grab yourself a glass.

“Hold on now, I didn't say I didn't want any,” she says as she sets her glass down on the counter in order to make you a plate. You pour yourself half a glass from the bottle she already had open and move to get out of the kitchen. “Is this too much?” She turns to show you the plate but she almost knocks into you, “I’m so sorry!!” She says abruptly and you laugh it off telling her that you're fine. “Are you sure?”

“Come to think of it, there must be something wrong with me since I'm here having dinner with you.” She swats your shoulder with the back of her hand and tells you to shut up before handing you the plate with your food on it. Your stomach growls loudly as the aroma finally enters your senses. “This looks amazing, thank you for the invitation.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Wanda says. “Sit, make yourself comfortable.” She tries to direct you out of the kitchen.

You look to her back door and think about how she gets so many more stars here than you do. “Hey, do you mind if we eat out there? I mean, it's such a great night,” you ask and Wanda looks out the window from the door and agrees.

“You’re right, it is a nice night,” she grabs her glass from the counter and opens the door for you. You thank her as you pass by and get yourself settled on the outdoor furniture. Wanda joins you shortly after with a plate of her own. The two of you enjoy the meal together under the stars with two bottles of wine. When the food is gone the two of you are still chatting. “So what happened to making plans with us and your ex and Rachel?” Wanda asks as she pours the rest of the wine from the second bottle into her glass.

You cringe at the question as you remember that you told her you'd hang out with her and the boys. “I completely forgot, I'm sorry. This week has been… honestly there's no good explanation. I'm sorry,” you say as you finish your glass of wine. “I’m glad you called me over here.” You make eye contact with her as you say this. Wanda’s smile is warm and inviting and you realize that you never thought you’d have a chance to see this side of her. She is a very beautiful person and you start to feel lucky to have the chance to know her.

“Do you dance?” Wanda asks, breaking you from getting lost in her features. You didn’t realize she had freckles before.

“Uh, not sure what you mean by that,” you pinch your eyebrows together but neither of you break eye contact.

She giggles, “It’s not a trick question. Do you dance?”

You look away for a second then look back at her. “I suppose it depends on who’s asking,” you reply as you blink slowly.

Wanda rests her elbow on the armrest and sits her head on her fist as she leans a little closer, “I’m asking.”

You nod and frown your lips a little before smiling again, “Then yes, I dance.”

“Perfect,” she says before she finishes the last bit of wine in her glass. She grabs her phone and taps the screen as she stands up and picks a song to play on her outdoor speakers that she hardly ever got to use. “Stay right here,” she tells you as she runs inside to turn the device on.

You stand and look up at the stars, the weather is perfect for a summer night. Usually it’s unbearably hot and humid. But tonight it’s a perfect warm temperature with a slight cool breeze. The moon is full and providing more light than usual. Though, lighting isn’t a problem as Wanda’s porch lights also shine bright. You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose and enjoy the refreshing scents of grass and trees. Then you hear the soft rhythmic strumming of a guitar and you turn around with open eyes as Wanda is rejoining you on the deck. Your heartbeats a little differently as you watch her walk over to you. There isn’t a time that you have ever felt so calm in the presence of someone but she has brought that out in you. You give the credit to the wine because anything else feels dangerous.

“Hi,” you say as you offer your hand to her.

“Hi,” she says as she takes your hand and the two of you seamlessly begin to move together. Her free hand resting on your shoulder and yours resting on her waist. The two of you dance to the music, at first facing each other and having light conversation that mostly consists of compliments on movement. Then the two of you fall silent, just enjoying the moment together as you hold each other close and continue to sway along to the melody.

As the third song ends, you look at her cheek and consider placing a small kiss there but as you move forward she turns to look at you, almost making her lips the target. You clench your jaw as you stop yourself. Wanda leans her head further into your shoulder. “Thank you for spending time with me tonight,” she says in a soft broken whisper. Not that she needed to whisper, she just didn’t feel like her normal volume would be appropriate at this distance.

“I can’t think of a single place I’d rather be than here right now,” you admit. Wanda hums as she closes her eyes. She doesn’t want to break this moment but she doesn’t want something to happen. Neither do you. Not when you have been texting everyday since Monday with Daisy. That’s when it hits you. Daisy. Sweet, sarcastic Daisy. You follow Wanda’s lead and close your eyes and continue to sway. You don’t look at her, you don’t say another word. You just hold her until the next song ends. And the next. And one more after that until the music stops.

The two of you break apart and she goes inside to figure out the problem. You collect the dishes and bring them inside to wash. When she still hasn’t returned after you have the dishes put in the dishwasher, you wander around the house until you find her. She is on the phone with her boys. She is singing softly to them. You walk away as you think about how great of a mother she is. You start to wonder what kind of role Daisy would be able to play in Rachel’s life. You can’t believe you never considered this before. She’s young and free, would she be a good step-mother? As much as you don’t always get along with Anna, she is a decent person to co-parent with. Then there’s the Jean of it all. Is Daisy someone that you could bring around Jean? You don’t know yet. But something tells you that there wouldn’t be a problem bringing Wanda to Jean.

“Hey, sorry about that,” Wanda says as she finds you sitting and facing the torn down wall. She joins you on the sofa. “They were getting anxious about spending the night and they wanted to be picked up. But I’m a little drunk so I had to convince them to stick it out.”

“That’s precisely why I haven’t left yet,” you admit with a laugh.

“You don’t have to leave, I have a guest room that is always ready to use,” she tells you. Wanda yawns as she checks the time. Her eyes widened at her watch, “It’s gotten really late. Wow, where did the time go?”

“I have no idea,” you say refraining from saying something flirtatious. “If it’s not a problem, I could stay,” you say as you look at her. “But I probably won’t see you in the morning because I’ll have to head home pretty early in order to make it to work on time.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem at all,” she says as she gets up from the couch. “I’ll show you the way,” she waits for you to stand and you follow her up the stairs. Wanda leaves you with a goodnight hug and you thank her for letting you stay. In the morning, you leave a note on the refrigerator so that you don’t leave without some form of goodbye.

Chapter 7

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 1 year

Text

Just A Little Taste*

pairing: masseuse harry x reader

warnings: smut, oral(female receiving), swearing

Walking into the front door of the massage parlour, YN is greeted by the smell of flowers and essential oils as she proceeds further into the building. Everything around her is white and organized, not a single thing stained or out of place. She’s a little afraid to walk on the clean, shiny floor, not wanting to scuff it up or get it dirty.

Her hands are shaky with nerves as she makes her way to the front desk to see where she needs to go. The older woman, whose name tag reads Jessica, greets her with a bright smile.

“Hello, welcome! What can I do for you today?” she asks, her white manicured nails tapping against the counter lightly to the rhythm of some sort of elevator music that is playing in the lobby.

“Hi, I have an appointment for 2:30. My name is YN YLN,” she greets back, wringing her hands together as she awaits further instruction.

Jessica nods and turns to her computer, typing away until she nods and hums in recognition. “Alright, I see you on the list. I’m going to go ahead and get you checked in and then you can take a seat over there on one of our couches. Someone will be out very shortly to escort you, and I hope you enjoy your time,” she explains, YN thanking her with a smile before walking away.

She takes a seat on the empty couch, and it’s so soft she could fall asleep right then and there. Trying to stay awake, she decides to grab a magazine from the large stack beside her. Getting the first one, she opens it up, seeing that the main article is about chakras and the importance of female orgasms. Her entire neck and face heat up, but she’s unable to put it down, genuinely intrigued by the words on the page.

There are masturbation tips, best sex positions for orgasm, and even sex you coupons. She takes one out and slips it into her purse, ready to put it to good use later. Not long afterwards, a woman steps out from a hallway and heads over to her with a blinding, gorgeous smile on her face.

“Hello, YN. I’m Emma, and I’ll be escorting you to your private room if that’s alright with you,” she says, and YN is greeting her before gathering her belongings and standing up to follow the energetic woman.

The two make polite conversation as they walk down a long white hallway lined with rooms until they get to the very end, into a room that looks like a fancy suite.

On the way into the room, her steps falter as she reads the name on the door. ‘Harry Styles’. There’s no way she booked a man, is there? Thinking back to what she booked, she hangs her head in frustration as she realizes it said ‘H. Styles’.

Interrupting her thoughts, Emma gives her another bright smile. “Well, this is it. All you have to do is undress completely and place the towel over your backside. Mr. Styles should be in shortly, I hope you enjoy,” she exclaims, leaving behind one last blinding smile before she’s leaving and giving YN the privacy she needs. A sigh leaves her lips as the door clicks shut.

This can’t be real life she thinks as she undresses shakily, grabbing the soft towel from the table and lying down on it, placing it over her body.

YN is lying face down on the massage table in the freezing cold room, shivering with just a fluffy white towel covering her backend. Nerves fill her body with each inhale, her heart hammering inside her chest.

As she tries to calm herself down, she runs her fingers over the leather of the table, the slight scratching acting as a distraction. She’s especially nervous because she’s never gotten a full body deep tissue massage, and the fact that she’d accidentally booked a male was plaguing her mind. She decides to close her eyes and relax against the table, trying to clear her mind.

No later than a minute after she closes her eyes, her body tensing up once more as she hears the door slide open and her nose is filled with the scent of cologne. It isn’t too strong, but it isn’t too faint either. The scent makes her body visibly relax, and she hears a deep chuckle from across the room.

“Y’like the cologne, eh?” the smooth voice speaks from behind her. YN literally almost moans out loud at the deep timbre, his accent mixed with the cologne making her head spin. She nods against the table and subtly -or so she thinks- squeezes her thighs together, trying to prevent a lot of wetness from forming between them. It’s pathetic, really, how she’s instantly at this man’s mercy and she hasn’t even seen his fucking face.

What she doesn’t know is that Harry was floored the second he entered the room and saw her lying there. He doesn’t know what it is about her, but there’s something so enthralling that makes him unable to take his eyes off of her. And when he saw her clench her thighs together at his voice, it stroked his ego so well and he had to refrain from pounding her into the table right then and there.

He walks around to the end of the table, his eyes on the swell of her ass. Heat bubbles deep in his belly as he sees that she doesn’t have the towel on correctly, giving him a glimpse of her bare ass and vagina.

Before he makes a decision he’s going to regret, he plucks the towel down a bit to cover her up and clears his throat.

“So, I’m Harry, and I’ll be your masseuse today. What brings you in, darling?” he asks, preparing his cart with all of his oil.

YN’s eyes nearly roll back into her head at the pet name, words escaping her for a moment before she’s finally processing his words.

“Well, um, I’ve been really stressed lately, and tense all over. My friend could tell I was having a rough time, so she suggested I go and get a massage, so that’s how I ended up here,” she responds shakily, trying to keep her voice level.

“Ah, I see,” he hums, popping the cap on the oil. “Are there any places you want me to focus on specifically? I’m going to work on all of the tense places I can feel, but if you feel that there are any places that need special attention, just let me know now,” he speaks, pouring some of the slightly warm liquid into his hand.

“The only places that have been bothering me are my lower back and my thighs,” she responds and Harry nods even though she can’t see him, rubbing his hands together.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Is it okay for me to start?” he questions, and she nods her head. “I need your words, darling. Consent is key,” he teases.

“Yes, you can start. Sorry,” she corrects herself, embarrassment flooding her mind.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing his hands into her lower back and massaging there. The combination of his praise and his fingers have her moaning out loud, her body relaxing. “Y’like that, hm? I bet, it’s real tense right in here,” he grunts, digging in a bit harder.

He takes his time and works out each knot in her lower back, seeing her relax with each press of his fingers. When he’s done, he moves to the centre of her back, repeating his actions.

“You’re so tense,” he says, rubbing out each knot in the centre of her back before doing her neck and shoulders, ready to move down to her thighs.

Getting a bit more oil, he rubs it in before moving down further, placing his hands on her thighs and starting to rub gently. By the time he’s done, he doesn’t even need to squint his eyes to see the wetness glistening i’m front of him.

“I’m also sensing some tension right in here,” he murmurs, lightly rubbing over her ass. “Is it okay if I continue?” he asks, getting permission from her.

He spreads her ass cheeks open a bit to get some oil all over, a moan bubbling in his chest as the action separates her folds, a string of wetness connecting them. All he wants to do is lick between them, just a little taste. And he, not being one to shy away from an opportunity, asks her if he can.

“Can I taste you?” he asks bluntly, hearing a gasp leave her lips.

“I’m sorry?” she asks, taken aback by his words. There’s no way he just said that, right? To her?

“You’re so fucking gorgeous and I’d really like to eat y’pussy. If that’s okay with you, of course,” he answers, letting go of her ass cheeks and letting them fall back together.

A moan leaves her lips at how blunt he is, nodding her head. “Fuck, please do,” she answers, and he wastes absolutely no time before he’s spreading her ass cheeks once more and diving in. He licks a bold stripe up her dripping folds, moaning at the taste of her. Her puckered hole is right in front of his face, but he leaves it alone, not knowing if she’s comfortable with that.

Pulling away, he licks his lips as he basks in the taste of her on his face. His cock is rock hard and he’s give anything to fuck her, but he needs her to cum first.

“Can you get on y’back for me, please?” he rasps, desperate to see all of her. She nods and flips over, and Harry’s cock is twitching violently and leaking precum at the sight of her perfect breasts, and her legs open wide, waiting for him. Trailing his eyes down further, his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head as he sees a bit of hair residing on her pubic area, and he can’t resist reaching up to touch the coarse hair.

He wants so badly to see his cum paint the little hairs white, but that’ll have to wait for another time. Getting into position, he places her legs on his shoulders before instantly mouthing at her again, sucking gently on her clit. Her whines and moans spur him on, and when she starts to grind against his face, he looks up her body to watch her movements.

Seeing her hands playing with her nipples, he shakes his head against her slightly before reaching upward and moving them out of the way, taking over. He pinches them lightly between his fingers, tweaking them slightly. The action mixed with his mouth working wonders between her legs as her back arching and her hands holding onto either side of the table, her grip tight.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum,” she warns, her voice getting higher in pitch with each swipe of his tongue. He groans into her at her words, hoping it’ll get her there faster, and it does. At the feeling of his voice vibrating through her body, she’s tensing up and her orgasm is flooding his mouth. He drinks down ever drop, savouring the taste of her. When she whimpers in overstimulation, he’s pulling back slowly and hesitantly, still wanting to taste her.

He rubs up and down her bare sides, helping her come down from her orgasm with his gentle touch. The second she comes down, she’s letting out a breathy laugh, making Harry look at her in confusion.

“If I get treated like that every time, I’ll definitely be coming back soon,” she explains, making Harry let out a loud belly laugh at her adorableness.

“You will, just ask for Harry when you book the appointment,” he says cheekily, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. She deepens it before she’s whimpering against his lips at the taste of herself. She grinds against her gently and bites down onto her lip, but not hard enough to hurt.

Pulling away, YN reaches for the waistband of his pants, looking to him for permission.

#harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles smut #harryistheonlyoneforme #smut #harry styles filth #dbf harry styles #harry styles #harry related writings #masseuse harry #masseuse harry styles #ceo au #ceo aesthetic #ceo harry styles smut #dbf harry #dbf!harry #oh-sofarfromhome #reblog #fic rec

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emlynnnnn · 7 months

Text

ODD ONE OUT — .3

gosling!ken x barbie!reader

summary | You and ken go out to lunch. Questions are asked.

part one , part two , part three , part four , part five

. . .

YOU nervously tapped your perfectly filed nails on the skin of your thigh as you glared up at your clock, watching as the skinny hand ticked by every second.

Ken was taking you out for lunch today.

Granted, he wanted to do it for his Barbie, but you were still excited to spend time with him nonetheless.

“Good afternoon,” Ken sung cheerily as he waltzed his way into you book shop, looking across the register at you expectantly with a grin. “You ready to go?”

You sighed lightly before getting up from your chair and walking around the till. “Yup,” You nodded with a warm smile. “Where are we going?”

Ken chuckled. “We’re going to Barbie’s restaurant, obviously,” He replied as if it was obvious, referring to chef Barbie’s restaurant in town.

You rolled your eyes with a chuckle as you both approached the front door, opening it for Ken to walk through first. He expressed a small ‘thank you’ and you both began to make your way through town in a comfortable silence, not feeling any need to fill in the gaps.

. . .

“..AND then when the twist was revealed I nearly threw the book across the room in surprise!” Ken exclaimed with a loud laugh, throwing his arms up dramatically with a knife and fork in hand.

You sent him an amused smile—you had personally seen the twist coming when you’d read the book, but you’d also been reading for as long as you could remember and knew most of the tropes out there. “What did Barbie think of that one?” You asked with a forced look of expectation, already knowing what the answer would be.

“Oh, she didn’t want to talk about it with me… but it’s okay—I’m sure she enjoyed it,” Ken shrugged, clearly a bit disheartened.

You took a moment to drink from your cup as your thought over your next words. “Ken…” You began slowly, earning a curious glance from the man across from you. “Why do you always try to impress Barbie so much when she doesn’t give you anything back?”

Maybe you were pushing too far, but the question had already been asked and you waited with baited breath as you watched Ken’s expression turn to one of thought.

“I don’t understand?” He replied, seemingly confused by what you had asked him.

“Well… You’re always doing things for Barbie but she never gives anything back… So why do you bother?” You repeated your question, swallowing nervously as you analysed Ken’s features.

There was a gradual frown developing across Ken’s mouth as he continued to take in what you had asked. “…Because I love her,” He finally spoke in a rather dubious manner.

He seemed sad as he gave his answer, almost as if a bit of realisation had crossed his mind—not that he showed it for long, as his attention was immediately back on you as a question of his own popped into his head.

“Why don’t you have your own Ken?” He asked suddenly, taking you off guard as you inhaled sharply.

It felt like time had frozen around your table as your heart hammered in your chest—it had never done that before. “I- I don’t know,” You answered unsurely, your eyes dropping to your heels under the table. There was a slight melancholy leaking it’s way into your chest. “I guess it doesn’t make sense for book Barbie to have a Ken…” You shrugged sombrely. “All I ever do is read. I’m super boring.”

Ken looked at you quizzically, seemingly taken aback by your answer. “I don’t think you’re boring,” He swiftly cut in. “I think you’re one of the most interesting Barbie’s in Barbieland, actually… Anyone who reads all those stories must be interesting.”

You felt yourself scoff and shake your head with a chuckle. “You don’t need to try make me feel better, Ken. I appreciate it but it’s okay, I’ve had to live with it since I arrived in Barbieland,” You tried to dismiss him, picking up your knife and fork to continue eating the ‘food’ from your plate.

Ken huffed out a small air of laughter as he watched you try and shove the conversation under the rug and reached forward to grab your wrist. “I can be your Ken,” He offered with a warm grin.

You felt your face burn a bright red at his words—he what?

“You and I could be best buddies, y’know! I’ll be your best Ken and you’ll be my best Barbie,” He chuckled at the thought, pulling his hand away from you.

There was a small dropping feeling in your chest—of course he meant it like that. It was probably foolish to think he would ever move on from Barbie. Just once, you wanted to know what it felt like to have someone’s attention.

His hand was warm…

You flashed him a pained grin. “Sure, Ken. I’d really like that,” You eventually answered.

“You should come to beach tonight for our boys blowout,” He excitedly told you, looking across the table with bright eyes.

You looked at him in complete bafflement. “Ken’s have a boys night?” You asked comically, trying to hold in your smile. “Where is it?”

“On beach, duh. It’s where we sleep,” Ken explained again as if it was the most obvious thing ever, making you roll your eyes once again.

“Wow, I can’t believe that’s where you guys sleep…” You shook your head in disbelief as you held in your giggles, imagining all the Ken’s curled up together on the sand every night. “I never even thought about it, actually.”

“Well, are you gonna come tonight? You’ll be the first Barbie to go!” He asked again excitedly, clasping his hands together as he looked at you hopefully.

You turned to look toward beach as the sun settled across the perfect blue sky, sighing slightly as you weighed over your choices.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

. . .

ALL eyes were on you as yourself and Ken approached the already established party where music was being loudly bumped across beach and a big bonfire was burning brightly in the centre of all the action.

“I think I might freak out if they don’t stop staring…” You whispered to Ken from the corner of your mouth before flashing a painfully forced smile toward the large group of Ken’s.

“They’re just surprised because they’ve never seen a Barbie at the boys’ blowout… Don’t mind them!” He chirped joyfully, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable you had gotten. He wrapped an arm around your tensed shoulders and dragged you right into the crowd and toward the large bonfire. “Cool, right?”

You stood in silent awe as you watched the flames dance well above your height—it was a huge fire. “Yeah, cool,” You nodded with your mouth slightly ajar.

“—Woah, hey Barbie,” A strange voice piped up from behind yourself and Ken, making you both turn around.

You had to hide your amusement from the utter surprise on backflip Ken’s face, his own surfboard tucked under his left arm.

“Hi, Ken,” You sent him a polite little wave.

“What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at girls night with all the other Barbie’s,” He asked curiously, digging his surfboard into the sand by his feet—why he still even had it was a mystery to you.

You shook your head. “No, I don’t always go to girls night,” You explained.

“I asked her to come,” Stereotypical Ken cut in eagerly as he once again wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into close, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. He was always touchy around backflip Ken anyways. “Thought we’d have a totally fun night if she came along,” He continued on with a smoulder, making you snort.

“Oh,” Backflip Ken began. “Well, it’s super awesome that you’re here,” He sent you a small wink before pulling his surfboard out of the ground and running off with it into the distance—to where, exactly, you didn’t know.

“He’s an idiot…” Ken grumbled to your right, making you gasp lightly and leave an abrupt whack on his arm.

“Ken!” You hissed. “That’s rude.”

Ken chuckled as he clutched his arm, feigning an injury. “Ouch, Barbie… I might have to go get doctor Barbie after that one…” He pretended to cry and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re a big baby,” You joked with a wide grin, walking away to start talking to the other Kens.

. . .

—> part four

. . .

note | wow… i actually cant thank you all enough for how much support the first two parts have received!! I’ve read all your comments and reposts, and thank you all so so much!! I actually wanna cry over how many notes the last parts have gotten so genuinely thank you.

i’m still quite leg deep in school atm so updates aren’t being pumped out daily, but i’m doing my best! this one is shorter than the last… but i still hope you guys enjoy 😌

#barbie #barbie reader #ken x reader #the barbie movie #x reader #barbie 2023 #gosling!ken #barbie fanfiction #fanfiction #ken #pre canon

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crappymixtape · 1 year

Text

eyes half shut

hawkins high alumni always run the end of year carnival to help raise funds for the school and steve is always in charge of the alumni basketball game, but this year they’re trying out a kissing booth and who better to headline than steve harrington? | ( 3.9k – a little angst, a little fluff, kinda enemies to kinda lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

E Y E S H A L F S H U T 🎶 dream boy, savannah conley

“Now, please don’t be late, Steven. Jason’s done with his shift right at seven and we don’t want to keep people waiting.” Miss Click tapped on the clipboard in her hand before hanging it back up on the nail hammered into the wall of the booth, “Robin Buckley volunteered to cover the cash register for your shift too! You remember Robin.”

Steve felt his jaw tick with irritation as he tried to hide the grimace on his face, his old History teacher practically beaming at the very mention of his friend. Of course Robin volunteered to run the register. She just wanted a front row seat for what was sure to be the most humiliating night of his life.

“Great. Robin Buckley. A real grade A student,” he said with a forced smile, jamming his hands into the pockets of his Levi’s.

“I thought so too! Such an attentive pupil,” Miss Click agreed before checking her watch. “Oh dear, I need to go check on the cake walk. I’ll see you back here in a few hours, I’m sure we’ll have record donations!” and with that she was off across the football field leaving Steve alone in the small booth to freak out about what he’d just agreed to.

A kissing booth. Great. Perfect. Totally fine.

He definitely wasn’t sore about Tommy getting to run the alumni basketball game instead of him. Wasn’t stressing the fuck out about the idea of having to kiss people for an hour straight. Or worse, kiss no one at all and have to live under a rock for the rest of his life and he totally wasn't going to kill Robin for ‘graciously volunteering’ to take money at his expense.

Loosing a sigh from his chest Steve ran his hands through his hair and kicked at the frame of the wall, KISSING BOOTH written above him. All curly letters and lipstick marks and bright red paint, taunting and teasing him about what would be happening in a few short hours.

It was going to be fine. Totally fine. Steve Harrington could handle a few smooches for charity. Right?

Right?

Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you? You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two. I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you.

Joan Jett was yelling through the speakers of your stereo as you leaned over your dresser, swiping mascara through your lashes in the mirror, trying your best to hurry up and get ready for the Hawkins High Jamboree.

Did you want to go? Absolutely not.

Was your room mate and best friend making you go with her? 100%.

“So, like, are you gonna be ready this century or should I plan on arriving in a coffin? Actually. Steve’s gonna probably put me in one anyway, might be doing him a favor,” Robin mused around her toothbrush from across the hall in the bathroom.

“Hah, are you kidding? That guy came out of the womb as a fully formed show boat. He loves shit like this,” you shot back, shaking your head at the thought of Steve posted up at the kissing booth. A stupid, shit-eating grin pasted on his face. Signature hair all perfectly coiffed. A ridiculously long line of girls just waiting to fawn over him.

“Can’t argue you on the show boat bit, but he’s still totally gonna kill me,” Robin said snorting as she spat her toothpaste into the sink.

You weren’t sure what had happened between senior year and now, but somehow your best friend had also become Steve Harrington’s best friend and it made absolutely no sense.

At first you’d been extremely skeptical, even overprotective of her, and made it a point to tag along with them where ever they were going to make sure he wasn’t going to do something shitty, but much to your chagrin he proved you wrong every single time. He was even nice and somehow made Robin ugly laugh more than you did. How dare he?

“C’mon, I don’t wanna keep Nance waiting, she’s gonna be downstairs soon,” Robin popped her head in through your door and you shot her a grin.

“Ooo, eyeliner. Are you two going out after?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows at her and she frowned, cheeks flushed.

“Yeah. Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing!” you held your hands up in surrender and gave her a little smile, “Just–it’s about damn time. You two have been dancing around each other for months.”

Robin was pretty private about her love life, especially after things hadn’t worked out with Vickie, and you were one of the only ones who really got to be in the know. Well. You and Steve, but you had to hand it to him. He at least seemed pretty damn empathetic and supportive in that regard toward Robin and you were thankful to him for it.

“What, are you keeping track?” Robin grumbled, smoothing her shirt down a bit and picking at the chipped black polish on her nails.

“You’re the one with the scoreboard,” you gently teased back, shoving your feet into the Chucks next to your dresser, but then your expression softened as you looked up at her, “You know I’m not. I’d be one to talk anyway, my love life is non-existent.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe you should try. It’s not all bad. Look at me, put myself out there and already have a date,” she said pointedly, scrunching up her nose at you.

“No, thanks,” it was your turn to grumble and you shouldered past her into the hallway.

“Wait. Wait a second. Yes. Yes, thanks!” she said, tone suddenly shifting into the one where you knew she was up to no good.

“Robs, whatever you’re about to say? Don’t,” you grabbed your wallet and chapstick off the kitchen table and turned to fix her with a look. The way she was grinning at you was horrifying. “Oh my god. What?”

“Kiss him,” she said simply and you looked at her blankly.

“What?”

“Put yourself out there! Kiss him!” she said again more enthusiastically and your stomach flipped over.

“Steve? Oh, wow. Let me go ahead and put a ‘hell’ in front of my no. No, Robs. No way,” you crammed your things into your pockets and shook your head, opening the fridge to try and find a beer. Booze suddenly felt very, extremely, necessary.

“Seriously! C’mon! What, are you chicken?” she make a little squawking noise as you cracked open the last beer hiding at the back of the fridge.

“Seriously?” you parroted back, “What, are you twelve? No, I’m not doing it.” You took a long drink from the can in your hand and grimaced as the carbonation fizzed in your nose. Too much.

“If you do, I’ll leave you alone for a whole week,” Robin’s tone was sing-songy, dragging out the vowels as she leaned on the open fridge door and smiled at you all sweetly. Full of mischief.

You waited, took another drink of beer and narrowed your eyes at her. She’d been begging you to go on a double date with her and Nancy and the thought of it made you want to throw up. Not only were double dates super cringy, but one: you didn’t have a boyfriend and two: Robin always suggested Steve and you’d immediately have to shut it down. He was absolutely not your type and there was no way you’d make it more than thirty minutes.

“Two weeks,” you countered, “And if you’re gonna hang out with him it can’t be here.”

“Deal!” she said much too quickly, sticking her hand out to you and you frowned, taking it and shaking it aggressively.

“Great. Deal.” It was just a kiss, right? Not stupid Seven Minutes in Heaven or Spin the Bottle, just cramming a dollar into a jar and a quick peck on the lips and you’d be free from Robin’s meddling for two whole weeks. Worth it.

Buzzzzz.

Someone was at the door, a Nancy Wheeler shaped someone, and the color drained from Robin’s face.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re fine, you look great,” you took another drink of your beer and then offered the last half of it to Robin who finished it off in one go.

“It’s not—“ Robin burped, beer was a bad choice, “—too much?”

“No, it’s not too much. The eyeliner is nice, really brings out the black in your heart. Now let’s get go,” you grabbed the empty can from her hand and tossed it in the recycling before shoving her toward the door.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna kiss Steve,” she said, grin tugging at the corners of her lips and your expression soured.

“Oh my god, just go,” and despite your grumbling, despite insisting on your irritation, all you could think about the entire ride over was a sliver of a memory from last summer.

It was smack in the middle of July. Sun beating down with the intent to fry you alive.

Robin had practically begged you to go get ice cream and it wasn’t like you were gonna say no. It was hotter than hell out, of course you were gonna get ice cream, but then Steve tagged along. Sat across from you in the booth and ordered a strawberry milkshake. Wrapped his perfectly pouted lips around the straw and sipped it slowly. Licked whipped cream from his fingers. Ate the cherry last and looked up at you when he’d pulled it from the stem with his teeth and for a split second all you could think about was him.

What it would taste like. What it would feel like.

What it would be like to kiss Steve Harrington.

“Bye now,” Jason was smiling all saccharine sweet. Pure sugar. Too much and too fake as the girl he’d just kissed slowly backed away from him. Unable to pull her eyes away as he leaned against the frame of the booth effortless and on display for the girls waiting in line, all of them disappointed they hadn’t beat the clock to seven.

And as Steve walked across the field to take Jason’s spot, he audibly groaned watching the other boy soak it all up.

Fuck this. He was not excited, he was not looking forward to this, and he did not want to stand anywhere near a damn kissing booth. Roughing his hands over his face he sucked in a deep breath. It was only an hour. Sixty minutes. It would fly by.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the King!”

Yeah, no. This was going to suck.

“Haven’t used that since Junior year, Carver,” Steve’s voice was flat, unamused, and when he walked up on the line a few of the girls huddled up and started to whisper.

“Ah, c’mon, Harrington. Return of the king! Back on top!” the grin that pulled at the corners of Jason’s mouth grew as he fed off Steve’s negative energy. “C’mon, the ladies love it,” and as he turned back to the line a couple girls toward the end started to walk away, “Oof, guess I’m a hard act to follow.”

Steve jammed his tongue into his cheek, hands balling up at his sides as he eyed the other boy, wanting nothing more than to put a fist into Jason’s face. “It’s for charity, dumbass. Not a damn competition,” Steve grumbled as the other boy pushed himself off the wall of the booth.

“Whatever you say, King Steve. Dropping like flies. Least you’ll get out of here early,” Jason sneered and gave Steve a too-hard clap on the back. Biting down on his lip, Steve struggled to keep himself in check, struggled to keep his hands at his sides until someone else chimed in.

“Carver you better get goin’, gonna be late for Bible study,” Robin walked up on the boys with you and Nancy in tow and gave Jason a too-sweet smile of her own, “Don’t wanna let Jesus down. Well. More than you already have I guess.”

Jason’s face turned beet red and Steve stifled a laugh with a very unconvincing cough, a few scattered giggles coming from the line.

“Shut up, Buckley.”

“Tsk, tsk. How’s it go? Love your neighbor or whatever? Anyway, so nice to see you!” Robin punched him a little harder than she should’ve in the shoulder and walked up behind the counter to take over for Chrissy Cunningham. “Alright, ladies! Now that we’ve taken out the trash – come give the King of Hawkins high a big ol’ smooch and help buy new basketball uniforms! Real win/win here, friends,” her voice was so loud it made people’s heads turn over at the cake walk and Steve wanted to die.

“Jesus, Robin,” he hissed, scrambling over to take up his post under the giant red sign.

Nancy turned to you shaking her head, but smiling all fond over Robin, “I kinda feel bad for him.”

“I don’t,” you said with a laugh, watching the line perk up a bit with Robin’s encouragement as Steve looked like he wanted to pass out, giving the first girl in a line a kiss.

“You know, he’s not that bad,” Nancy said, giving you a nudge with her elbow.

Glancing back over at the booth you saw the second girl walk up and give her dollar to Robin, Steve’s face still flushed and pink, but lips just as pouted and perfect as they’d been that day at the diner. Sipping down strawberry milkshake and pulling the cherry off the stem and you felt your stomach flip over.

“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, but Nancy chuckled when she saw how rosy your cheeks had grown.

“Okay, well you better get in line or you’ll have Robin on your ass worse than before,” she reminded you of your deal and you groaned. “It’ll be easy,” she said giving you a grin, “And he really is a good kisser.”

Your blush only deepened with her words and you tried to hide it, throwing your eyes down to your feet and starting to walk away, “Okay, great! Can’t wait. So awesome. Just the best.”

“Relax! It’s just a kiss!” she called over her shoulder as you fell into the last place in line behind someone from your old AP English class, trying very hard to not turn and run away.

At first it was an extremely awkward and uncomfortable exchange of events for Steve.

People would give Robin their money, she’d say thank you in her silly sing-songy Robin voice, and then they’d walk up to Steve and smile. Sometimes it was shy, sometimes it was overly aggressive, and sometimes there’d be a weird pause where they’d just stare at each other. He’d clear his throat nervously or stress about whether or not he should’ve brushed his teeth two more times before he’d left the house, but eventually she’d lean in and they’d kiss and then it’d be over.

It was ridiculous because he used to kiss random girls all the time at parties and shit in high school. Used to love it. Maybe because it stroked his ego. Because he liked showing off. Maybe he didn’t get enough affection at home. Maybe Nancy Wheeler broke his heart and he just wanted to forget, but now? Things were different now. He was different now.

He didn’t sleep around, he didn’t kiss and tell, his dating life was abysmal and this kissing booth just seemed to add insult to injury.

“Steve,” Robin whisper-yelled between customers as if she could tell he was spiraling, “You’re doing great. Only two more to go and you’re done!”

“God, Robin. Please stop talking,” Steve hissed back and gave the next girl a weak, half-hearted smile.

“Just saying–”

“Hi,” Steve cut Robin off and greeted the shorter, blonde girl he recognized from Senior year science. She was second-to-last in line ahead of you and you fought back a laugh, watching the awkwardness unfold.

“Hi, Stevie,” she purred and Steve’s stomach lurched.

Stevie? Oh god. Why?

She’d clearly just applied a fresh layer of shiny, pink gloss right before her turn came up and when she leaned in toward him, Steve waited til her eyes were closed to grimace. What? He wasn’t a monster.

It was slippery and wet and not good, but Steve gave her what he hoped was a friendly enough smile as she pulled away all starry-eyed.

“Maybe see you around? When you’re done?” she asked and he swallowed thickly.

“Yeah! Ye–maybe,” he stuttered and she slipped him a piece of paper with her number on it.

“Call me,” she winked and Steve died.

“Okay, sure. Thanks,” he stumbled over his words and when she finally turned away you watched as he screwed his eyes shut, muttering under his breath.

You caught the words stupid and want to die and you almost laughed, but it fell apart in your throat as the girl walked away and left you there. Last in line and panicking as you suddenly remembered what was supposed to happen next. Why were you just as nervous as he was?

Shaking off the last kiss, Steve was ready to just be done. Only one left Robin said, but when he looked up the pained expression on his face softened.

You.

Robin’s room mate. Her best friend. Her cute best friend. The one who fought him over best friend duties. Who teased him relentlessly and gave him shit all the time. Wasn’t afraid to eat an entire pizza on her own and always ordered a chocolate shake with sprinkles at the diner. Who wasn’t afraid to call him out on things and had a mouth like a sailor. A mouth he’d wanted to kiss more and more every time he saw you, but he could never find the right time to ask or try or make a move and–

“Oh,” fell from him, quiet and surprised and your lips twisted into a little frown.

“Oh,” you said back trying to tease, but it came out sounding a lot more hurt than anything.

Steve’s brows pinched together with worry and he took a step toward you, the most he’d moved all night. “N-no, sorry. I didn’t mean it like…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, trying hard to put words to what he was trying to say, but they weren’t coming out.

“That’s okay. S’for a good cause, right?” you shrugged and forced a smile.

“Yeah. Right,” he agreed lamely as you crammed a dollar into Robin’s hand with a glare. Two weeks better be worth it.

Then turning back to Steve you took another tiny step toward him and he did the same putting you two dangerously close. Almost toe-to-toe. The scent of fresh laundry and spearmint and boy making you feel dizzy, making you feel dumb, and when you pulled your eyes off the ground to look up at him your breath caught in your throat.

Fuck he was pretty.

That pout. The twin moles on his cheek. The soft slope of his jaw. The way his hair fell messy across his forehead and into his eyes all warm honey, liquid amber, melted caramel. He was making it hard to hold your grudge and you could feel the wall you’d put up around yourself start to crumble.

“So. We just–” you didn’t finish your sentence as he looked down at you, his lips parted, waiting, anticipating.

“Yeah. Yeah, uh–” Steve’s voice was low and made your tummy twist as he shook his head a little and leaned down. Tried to do the same thing he’d been doing all night, but suddenly so damn unsure. He paused, close enough you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek, “Is this–is this okay?”

“Mmhm,” you murmured and you didn’t have to wonder anymore. You were nervous, just like he was was, and it scared the shit out of you.

“Okay, guess I’ll just–” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he closed the gap between you and finally, finally pressed his lips soft and sweet to yours.

And it was everything.

It was slow and curious and a little shy, but the feeling of him against you pushed you to be brave and you tilted your head. Deepened the kiss. Opened for him and he slipped a hand wide and warm and soft at the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair and holding you even closer.

His tongue chased along your bottom lip and you sighed into him, letting him swallow all your soft pretty sounds until you were both breathless and needing air and when he started to pull away you swore you’d give Robin every single bill in your wallet to do it again.

Steve huffed a laugh, hand still holding you gentle at your neck and you bit your lips between your teeth to fight off a grin, too caught up in each other to care about anything else until–

“Yeah, think I’m gonna need another dollar for that one,” Robin was beaming at you two like an idiot and you both fixed her with a look, all sass and attitude.

“Robin,” your voice blended with Steve’s and Robin laughed so hard she snorted.

“Oh my god, please, please make this work. Look at you two. This is ridiculous. Here, go get a drink,” and she fisted a wad of dollars from the register, counting it out and replacing it with money from her own wallet before practically shoving it at Steve.

“What–”

“No, seriously, Harrington. Leave. Get outta here. It’s eight anyway,” Robin cut Steve off and pointed at her watch. Eight on the dot. Kissing Booth closed.

“Uh,” Steve started, looking back over at you with a lopsided smile, “Wanna get a drink?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, hummingbird wings and nerves and a feeling you hadn’t had in a long time. A tiny flicker breathed into flames when Steve pressed his lips to yours and you felt your cheeks warm again at the thought of it.

“For charity?” you teased, trying hard to will your blush away as you pulled your eyes up to meet his.

“No way,” he said, too quick and suddenly his cheeks matched yours. Pink and rosy and warm and you laughed. “No,” he tried again, smile tugging into a smug grin. Just a tiny bit King Steve, but the show of confidence made you weak in the knees, made you want to kiss him again and you grinned right back.

“Okay, but you’re driving. Robs has a hot date,” turning you winked at Robin and her jaw dropped, fighting the urge to dive over the counter and kill you.

“A hot date?” Steve’s eyes grew wide and he reached up to slap at Robin’s hands, “With Nance??”

“I’m late, gotta get this to Click, told her I’d close this up by eight so she could go home,” Robin rambled, trying to pretend like there was so much to do, but failing miserably.

“Have fun!” you teased, throwing her sing-songy tone back in her face, but she ignored you, walking off across the football field still mumbling under her breath.

You looked back to make a joke to Steve, to laugh at Robin, but the sight of him had your words dying in your throat.

"Ready?" he asked, twirling his keys on his ring finger, looking the most relaxed he’d been all night and your heart leapt, hammering against your ribcage. Deep green henley snug across his chest. Dark wash Levi’s hugging all the right places. Hair still messy in his eyes. Those eyes. One hand jammed in his pocket and dirty blue Adidas shifting on the terf, ready to get outta there. Ready to get a drink with you and dammit, Nancy was right.

He was a good kisser.

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