Tumgik
#live chat operator jobs
six-of-cringe · 2 years
Text
my friends slowly becoming disinterested in me the longer we've been out of school is gonna be my joker origin pretty soon here
7 notes · View notes
live-chat-job · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
0 notes
livechatjobs788 · 4 months
Text
Live Chat Jobs - You have to try this one!
Looking for a flexible and rewarding work-from-home opportunity? Look no further than Live Chat Jobs! "Live Chat Jobs - You have to try this one!" isn't just a catchy phrase; it's a genuine recommendation.
Live Chat Jobs offer a dynamic work environment where you connect with customers in real-time, using your communication skills to answer questions and provide support. The best part? You can often set your own hours and work from the comfort of your home!
Intrigued? Live Chat Jobs might be the perfect fit for you. Keep reading to explore the exciting world of live chat customer service!
1 note · View note
hancoxinc · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
Job Offer: Live Chat Assistant
Are you looking for a job that you can do online, from home? Do you have a laptop, tablet, or phone with a reliable internet connection? If so, this live chat assistant job could be for you. We are hiring people from all countries right now for these positions. Full training is provided and we are looking for people who can start work right away. Read here to complete your application if you are interested.
Click Here To Learn More!
1 note · View note
thecastleatnight · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
0 notes
txttletale · 3 months
Note
Saw a tweet that said something around:
"cannot emphasize enough how horrid chatgpt is, y'all. it's depleting our global power & water supply, stopping us from thinking or writing critically, plagiarizing human artists. today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools. this isn't a world we deserve"
I've seen some of your AI posts and they seem nuanced, but how would you respond do this? Cause it seems fairly-on point and like the crux of most worries. Sorry if this is a troublesome ask, just trying to learn so any input would be appreciated.
i would simply respond that almost none of that is true.
'depleting the global power and water supply'
something i've seen making the roudns on tumblr is that chatgpt queries use 3 watt-hours per query. wow, that sounds like a lot, especially with all the articles emphasizing that this is ten times as much as google search. let's check some other very common power uses:
running a microwave for ten minutes is 133 watt-hours
gaming on your ps5 for an hour is 200 watt-hours
watching an hour of netflix is 800 watt-hours
and those are just domestic consumer electricty uses!
a single streetlight's typical operation 1.2 kilowatt-hours a day (or 1200 watt-hours)
a digital billboard being on for an hour is 4.7 kilowatt-hours (or 4700 watt-hours)
i think i've proved my point, so let's move on to the bigger picture: there are estimates that AI is going to cause datacenters to double or even triple in power consumption in the next year or two! damn that sounds scary. hey, how significant as a percentage of global power consumption are datecenters?
1-1.5%.
ah. well. nevertheless!
what about that water? yeah, datacenters use a lot of water for cooling. 1.7 billion gallons (microsoft's usage figure for 2021) is a lot of water! of course, when you look at those huge and scary numbers, there's some important context missing. it's not like that water is shipped to venus: some of it is evaporated and the rest is generally recycled in cooling towers. also, not all of the water used is potable--some datacenters cool themselves with filtered wastewater.
most importantly, this number is for all data centers. there's no good way to separate the 'AI' out for that, except to make educated guesses based on power consumption and percentage changes. that water figure isn't all attributable to AI, plenty of it is necessary to simply run regular web servers.
but sure, just taking that number in isolation, i think we can all broadly agree that it's bad that, for example, people are being asked to reduce their household water usage while google waltzes in and takes billions of gallons from those same public reservoirs.
but again, let's put this in perspective: in 2017, coca cola used 289 billion liters of water--that's 7 billion gallons! bayer (formerly monsanto) in 2018 used 124 million cubic meters--that's 32 billion gallons!
so, like. yeah, AI uses electricity, and water, to do a bunch of stuff that is basically silly and frivolous, and that is broadly speaking, as someone who likes living on a planet that is less than 30% on fire, bad. but if you look at the overall numbers involved it is a miniscule drop in the ocean! it is a functional irrelevance! it is not in any way 'depleting' anything!
'stopping us from thinking or writing critically'
this is the same old reactionary canard we hear over and over again in different forms. when was this mythic golden age when everyone was thinking and writing critically? surely we have all heard these same complaints about tiktok, about phones, about the internet itself? if we had been around a few hundred years earlier, we could have heard that "The free access which many young people have to romances, novels, and plays has poisoned the mind and corrupted the morals of many a promising youth."
it is a reactionary narrative of societal degeneration with no basis in anything. yes, it is very funny that laywers have lost the bar for trusting chatgpt to cite cases for them. but if you think that chatgpt somehow prevented them from thinking critically about its output, you're accusing the tail of wagging the dog.
nobody who says shit like "oh wow chatgpt can write every novel and movie now. yiou can just ask chatgpt to give you opinions and ideas and then use them its so great" was, like, sitting in the symposium debating the nature of the sublime before chatgpt released. there is no 'decay', there is no 'decline'. you should be suspicious of those narratives wherever you see them, especially if you are inclined to agree!
plagiarizing human artists
nah. i've been over this ad infinitum--nothing 'AI art' does could be considered plagiarism without a definition so preposterously expansive that it would curtail huge swathes of human creative expression.
AI art models do not contain or reproduce any images. the result of them being trained on images is a very very complex statistical model that contains a lot of large-scale statistical data about all those images put together (and no data about any of those individual images).
to draw a very tortured comparison, imagine you had a great idea for how to make the next Great American Painting. you loaded up a big file of every norman rockwell painting, and you made a gigantic excel spreadsheet. in this spreadsheet you noticed how regularly elements recurred: in each cell you would have something like "naturalistic lighting" or "sexually unawakened farmers" and the % of times it appears in his paintings. from this, you then drew links between these cells--what % of paintings containing sexually unawakened farmers also contained naturalistic lighting? what % also contained a white guy?
then, if you told someone else with moderately competent skill at painting to use your excel spreadsheet to generate a Great American Painting, you would likely end up with something that is recognizably similar to a Norman Rockwell painting: but any charge of 'plagiarism' would be absolutely fucking absurd!
this is a gross oversimplification, of course, but it is much closer to how AI art works than the 'collage machine' description most people who are all het up about plagiarism talk about--and if it were a collage machine, it would still not be plagiarising because collages aren't plagiarism.
(for a better and smarter explanation of the process from soneone who actually understands it check out this great twitter thread by @reachartwork)
today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools
i mean, this is true! AI tools are definitely going to destroy livelihoods. they will increase productivty for skilled writers and artists who learn to use them, which will immiserate those jobs--they will outright replace a lot of artists and writers for whom quality is not actually important to the work they do (this has already essentially happened to the SEO slop website industry and is in the process of happening to stock images).
jobs in, for example, product support are being cut for chatgpt. and that sucks for everyone involved. but this isn't some unique evil of chatgpt or machine learning, this is just the effect that technological innovation has on industries under capitalism!
there are plenty of innovations that wiped out other job sectors overnight. the camera was disastrous for portrait artists. the spinning jenny was famously disastrous for the hand-textile workers from which the luddites drew their ranks. retail work was hit hard by self-checkout machines. this is the shape of every single innovation that can increase productivity, as marx explains in wage labour and capital:
“The greater division of labour enables one labourer to accomplish the work of five, 10, or 20 labourers; it therefore increases competition among the labourers fivefold, tenfold, or twentyfold. The labourers compete not only by selling themselves one cheaper than the other, but also by one doing the work of five, 10, or 20; and they are forced to compete in this manner by the division of labour, which is introduced and steadily improved by capital. Furthermore, to the same degree in which the division of labour increases, is the labour simplified. The special skill of the labourer becomes worthless. He becomes transformed into a simple monotonous force of production, with neither physical nor mental elasticity. His work becomes accessible to all; therefore competitors press upon him from all sides. Moreover, it must be remembered that the more simple, the more easily learned the work is, so much the less is its cost to production, the expense of its acquisition, and so much the lower must the wages sink – for, like the price of any other commodity, they are determined by the cost of production. Therefore, in the same manner in which labour becomes more unsatisfactory, more repulsive, do competition increase and wages decrease”
this is the process by which every technological advancement is used to increase the domination of the owning class over the working class. not due to some inherent flaw or malice of the technology itself, but due to the material realtions of production.
so again the overarching point is that none of this is uniquely symptomatic of AI art or whatever ever most recent technological innovation. it is symptomatic of capitalism. we remember the luddites primarily for failing and not accomplishing anything of meaning.
if you think it's bad that this new technology is being used with no consideration for the planet, for social good, for the flourishing of human beings, then i agree with you! but then your problem shouldn't be with the technology--it should be with the economic system under which its use is controlled and dictated by the bourgeoisie.
3K notes · View notes
smartvirtuals · 1 year
Text
Are you looking for a job that you can do online, from home? Do you have a laptop, tablet, or phone with a reliable internet connection? If so, this live chat assistant job could be for you. We are hiring people from all countries right now for these positions. Full training is provided and we are looking for people who can start work right away. Read here to complete your application if you are interested https://bit.ly/3JKkjOF.
0 notes
giancarlo-antona · 1 year
Video
undefined
tumblr
Do you want to take your online job from virtual to reality? Now is your chance if you are looking for a fun and rewarding way to make money from home. Live chat assistants are in huge demand worldwide right now.
These are no ordinary jobs as they involve answering customer questions, providing sales links, and offering discounts, which means a lot of opportunities for growth in this field. The hours will vary each week, so there are always times when it would fit your schedule, even if you already have another job!
We don't require any qualifications other than a device that can access business chat functions such as social media and website chat functions like phones, tablets, or laptops. As long as you can follow instructions and work independently, have a reliable internet connection, and work from your country, this could be the perfect opportunity for you.
Complete your application here.
0 notes
Job Offer: Live Chat Assistant
Are you looking for a job that you can do online, from home? Do you have a laptop, tablet, or phone with a reliable internet connection? If so, this live chat assistant job could be for you. We are hiring people from all countries right now for these positions. Full training is provided and we are looking for people who can start work right away. Read here to complete your application if you are interested.
APPLY NOW 
Tumblr media
0 notes
Text
Live Chat Assistants - Hiring right now
We are currently hiring new live chat assistants. You will work for businesses answering live chat messages on their website or social media accounts. These are remote positions, meaning that you can do the work online from anywhere in the world.
Click here to complete your application if you are interested.  
What you will be doing: As a live chat assistant you will be paid to reply to live chat messages on a businesses website or social media accounts. This includes answering customer questions, providing sales links and offering discounts.
Contract length: No fixed term
Rate: $25 - $35 per hour
Skills/background needed: Must have a device able to access social media and website chat functions (Phone/Tablet/Laptop). Be able to work independently. Ability to closely follow provided steps and instructions. Have 5+ hours availability per week. Reliable internet connection.
Hours per week: 5 - 40 hours a week
Location: Remote work online English-speaking preferred.
Live Chat Assistants are in huge demand worldwide right now.
Click here to complete your application now.
Looking out for you,
0 notes
espinosaurusrexex · 6 months
Text
Remember Me
WinterSoldier!BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader
summary: After a fight against the most notorious Hydra agent of all, Steve and you discover that your assumed diseased friend Bucky is still alive. Old wounds resurface as you are confronted with the grappling reality that you have lived vastly different lives for the past 70 years. Will he remember your shared history? And most importantly: does he still feel the same?
word count: 3.1k
a/n: Just a short piece that I managed to finish. I know it's not a lot, but I hope you enjoy anyway 💕
warnings: a bunch of fluff and angst, mentions of war, mentions of sexism, swearing, Bucky is really broken in this one, happy ending (:
・゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚
Tumblr media
“Proceed with caution, unidentified shooter on bridge. I repeat: unidentified shooter. It is not clear what the motive is. Take cover and shoot on sight.”
“Dispatch, this is Captain America - we’ll take it from here.”
“With all due respect, Cap, I will keep my men on site to keep your cover.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Least I can do for you, sir.”
“Stop chatting it up with the police and do your job, Rogers.”
“Alright, alright.”
You chuckled and turned to Tony. “How long are we out?”
“Three minutes, 46 seconds.” 
“You gonna survive that long, Stevie?”
“That guy’s got a good aim on him, gotta give him that.”
Muffled noises pushed through your earpiece before you stepped into the back of the Quinjet to gear up. 
“Can’t let him do anything. It’s one guy they’re fighting... one.”
“Yeah, one Hydra-trained assassin who’s apparently immortal and got more deaths on his record than Romanoff.”
You huffed as the meeting recollected in your mind. The Winter Soldier had been the newest pain in the Avenger’s asses ever since you discovered that Hydra was still operating in the shadows of S.H.I.E.L.D. 
“They’re just making a show out of everything, huh?” 
You strapped your gloves over your wrists and watched as Tony chuckled in the pilot seat. You and him had become good friends over the past few years. Ever since you and Steve had been discovered in the frozen airship of what you had thought to be your last mission about 70 years ago, you and Captain America had woken up in a vastly different world. One through which Howard’s son, Tony, gladly guided you. 
Both you and Steve were overwhelmed by the amount of changes the world had endured while you had soundly served your time as human popsicles, though Captain America seemed to struggle a little more with 21st-century technology and norms. 
It was fine, Steve had always been a little old-fashioned, even back in the day. You for one were delighted to learn about all the opportunities the world had to offer for women and other people who couldn’t have dreamed of any in the 40s. Because while Steve was celebrated for being the face of hope for the American people, you were still dodging snide comments doubting your place in the Army. And while you tried not to let anyone see the toll it took on you, it was the reason for enough nights you spent with Peggy sharing stories over a bottle of wine. 
You both decided the important men in your life should never find out. Though, of course, your not-so-secret didn’t stay hidden from Bucky for long. Which was one of the reasons you had jumped on that plane with Steve. Even when Bucky was already dead. Even when Steve was still oblivious. You constantly needed to prove yourself. But this one time, it had actually changed something – well, time had. 
You shook your head free of that thought and walked towards the cargo hatch. Tony had landed the Quinjet – it was go time. 
“Ready?”
“That guy won’t know what happened to him when we’re done with him.”
“Let’s rock his world, then,” Tony winked before his helmet closed and he flew out of the jet. You were close behind him, running the short distance from the ramp to the bridge from which you swung yourself off with a grappling hook. 
“What’s the status?”
“I’ve been shot.”
“I’ve got it, Bearcat check on Steve. He looks ridiculously helpless.”
“Roger that,” you sprinted towards the two fighting men on the street, as the Winter soldier threw Steve to the ground, his shield nowhere to be seen. 
“Okay, my turn.” You stepped in front of him, analyzing his movements, and dodging punches, trying to get some in yourself. 
“Oh come on, that’s not fair.” You huffed when he took a knife out of your leg holster and almost acrobatically threw it over your head just to graze your cheek with the blade. 
He had knocked off your guns at this point, leaving you with choking wire and some smaller daggers in your jacket. When he turned the right angle, you jumped his shoulders and locked your thighs around his neck, kicking the knife out of his hand and watching as he ripped your choking wire in half. Damn.
“Now, that’s not nice.” You threw the torn metal to the side as The winter soldier struggled to get you off him. A look to Steve told you he had a new plan, and with a short nod, you signaled your understanding to him. 
“But if you wanna be like that...” Steve threw you his shield and in a swift motion you managed to drag it over the soldier's head. He pushed his metal arm forward just in time, though your hit had already knocked the mask off his face. 
When the shield came down, you heard Steve’s footsteps halt next to you, the world going quiet. 
Your stomach churned when you watched blue eyes twitch between the dark smudges. Familiar and oh-so strange at the same time. 
“Bucky?” Steve stammered, and at the sound of his name, goosebumps rippled over your skin. 
The Winter Soldier’s look darkened before he reached for a gun. “Who the hell is Bucky?”
From then on, the day seemed like a blur. You remembered Sam knocking Bucky down and the lot of you flying back to the compound on standby. Steve was functioning a lot better than you were, considering the man you thought to be dead for over 70 years was currently handcuffed to a handrail on your jet. 
James “Bucky” fucking Barnes. Captain America’s best friend, founding member of the howling commandos, infamous war hero apparently turned assassin, and the man who stole your heart somewhere along the way. 
You dared a glance at the chained-up, unconscious brunette in the corner as Steve sat down next to you, a calming hand squeezing your shoulder. 
“Can I get you anything?”
You ignored him. “How are you not freaking out?” You whispered through glassy eyes instead. 
Steve’s expression softened when he pulled you into his chest, his other hand pressing your head further into him. His heart was hammering beneath his ribcage, his fingers cold to the touch. 
“I am. Just trying to be a captain.” His voice was strained when he mumbled into your hair. 
You just nodded in understanding, finding comfort in the fact you weren’t the only one feeling this way. 
❁ ❁ ❁
You watched him through the glass of the interrogation room with your arms crossed before your chest. Buck was sitting at the table, his head hung low, his dark hair falling in wet stands into his face. He didn’t move a muscle. For half an eternity, he stared at the table his wrists were chained to, almost statue-like. But when he finally looked up, you could see the confusion and nervousness in his ocean-blue eyes. 
They had given him time to recover, to shower, and feel like a human again. They forced him into normal clothes and offered him a bed to sleep. But it wasn’t enough. The man you were looking at was terrified and lost - exhausted and overwhelmed. 
Bucky visibly tensed when the door opened and Steve stepped into his sight. They spent the next hour reconstructing his past. Steve told him how he had ended up in the 21st century and by the end of their conversations, the tension was a lot less static.
“She’s alive,” Bucky stated and tore his eyes away from Steve to look at the one-way glass.
“She’s a tough one. Survived the crash without super soldier serum and came out of the ice just as unharmed as I did.” 
“What are the odds?” Bucky chuckled bitterly. “What are the fucking odds we all end up together again?” 
Steve only gifted his friend a sympathetic smile along with a squeeze to his shoulder. “Take it as a chance.”
“Feels like a punishment.” 
They were locking eyes and even though you were watching the interaction from the outside, you could feel the atmosphere turn somber. The men were staring at each other in silence for a while, though you knew there was an entire discussion happening in their eyes.
“Does she... does she want to see me?” Bucky’s voice was hesitant and broken. And you couldn’t help but somehow imagine a different question nestled in his words. 
You almost had to stop yourself from touching the glass with your hands, wanting to tell him that you were already seeing him - really seeing him. 
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Steve stood and with a last smile to Bucky, he exited the room. 
This was it. The door was open. The love of your life sitting only a few feet from it. Though it seemed like he was trapped inside another’s body. 
“I’ll give you some privacy,” Steve murmured as he stood in the doorway looking at you by the window. And you just nodded, trying to suppress your pulse rushing in your ears. 
“Thanks.” It was only a whisper. You weren’t used to your voice being this small. And Steve didn’t seem so either. He was looking at you with sad eyes, fists clenched by his sides. There was nothing he could do to make you feel better. Not this time. And he seemed to know so. With one last tight smile, he sent a short nod your way and then left. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky didn’t look at you when you finally built up the courage to step inside his room. He was much bigger than you remembered. Thick muscles adorned his arms and shoulders. Shaggy, longer hair fell from his head and over his scrunched brows. His left arm was entirely of metal, a red star reminding him who had taken claim to him several decades ago. 
If you hadn’t known, the man before you had almost no resemblance to the soldier you loved in 1941. He had been lean and full of life. He was broken now. And you were terrified someone had taken the very thing from him that would keep him from becoming himself again. 
Without a word you approached Bucky, cupped his hands with yours, and undid the restraints that tied him to the table. And this was the first time he looked at you. Really looked at you. Bucky’s piercing blue stare was full of awe and sorrow, a deep pain etched beneath the grey flecks within the vibrant color. 
You sat down beside him. 
“Hey.” Your voice was shaky, dragging a long silence in its wake that only made your heart beat faster. 
“Hello,” Bucky finally whispered, breaking the spell. His voice was a raw timbre, like a long-forgotten melody. And so much more tangible now that you weren’t listening to it through a speaker. 
But that was it. Neither of you spoke afterward. 
There was so much that could have been said, so much that could have been exchanged, known, explored about the other. And yet it didn’t feel like any of the words known to you were enough to break the static tension in the room. You were just looking at Bucky, scanning every part of his body like it was a flash card for the most important test of your life. 
So, here you were: With the opportunity of a lifetime right at your fingertips and the confidence of a kicked puppy settled deep in your wounded soul. The person you had known for the longest looked so timid as if he were looking at a stranger. Not that he had ever been shy about strangers back in the day. But this was different. This was strange and beautiful, and scary, and exciting. No book in the world held the answers as to what to do in this situation. 
And the solution was so easy: you just had to say something. So why didn’t your damn mouth open?
The speaker above your heads crackled and then Tony’s voice rang through the room. And for the first time in what felt like hours, a tiny bit of the weight on your shoulders lifted with it. “Bearcat, If you don’t open your mouth and put the guy out of his misery in 5 seconds, I’ll personally mediate this incredibly static confrontation.”
You rolled your eyes and then glared at the mirror, knowing full well Tony was watching you despite your asking him to leave. You mouthed a ‘shut it’ towards the glass and then turned in shock when a familiar voice rose from the silence.”
“Bearcat?”
You stared at Bucky with soft eyes. There was an innocence in the way he slowly guided this conversation - almost like he’d always had. It was an easy question, a nice entry to the heavier stuff that was bound to be discussed. 
And just as you began to explain, it dawned on you how much you had missed about each other. How differently your life could have been if it weren’t for the cruel turn of fate.
“When Steve and I were discovered, S.H.I.E.L.D. was our home for a long time. They tried to put us in apartments, even set us up with chaperones to guide us through the new century.” Bucky looked intrigued, even leaning forth as he listened intently. You wondered if he ever realized how much time had passed when he was the winter soldier... if anyone ever cared to tell him. “But it wasn’t until I met Natasha that I felt like I had arrived. She showed me so many things and trained with me until I became an agent here. Howard’s son came up with the nickname. He reminds me of him.” You smiled and shook your head “He’s a pain in my ass but a genius that can be genuinely helpful even though I don’t want to admit it at times. I haven’t grasped the explanation fully, but apparently, my fast learning and efficiency when it came to fighting reminded him of one of those small powerful fighter jets that were finished just after the war.” You chuckled at the memory before your eyes found Becky’s again only to see pain all over his face. 
A silent tear rolled down his cheek and hit the floor before you could see it stain his skin. “I'm so sorry.” His voice was shaking, his body trying to make itself smaller but failing miserably with all the muscle surrounding it. He took up the room and your heart right along with it.
“Hey you have nothing to apologize for, you hear me.” You cradled his face and his hands instantly covered yours, only for his metal one to retract just as fast again. He was sorrowful and it made your heart ache. 
“You’ve been navigating through so much alone and this is yet another thing you had to do without me.” He confessed through his tears and squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t changed within - always caring for everyone around him and never putting himself first.
“I’m fine. Was then and am now.” You ensured him. “If you want to worry about someone, take Steve. He’s a lot more overwhelmed than I am.” Bucky chuckled through his tears, a deep seriousness settling in his eyes. “If anything, I’m sorry we didn’t save you sooner.”
He shook his head. “You couldn’t have known.” And there it was: a glimpse of the loving, caring, charming man you’d known so many years ago. A small smile snuck onto your face at the revelation and a spark of hope shot through your body. 
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” you confessed, "We never had the time to actually be just us. To live all the dreams we shared back then.” 
Bucky's eyes were full of sorrow before he closed them and pressed his forehead to yours. “I wish I could say I missed you,” he whispered and slung his arm around you, “But I didn’t remember.”
“And that’s not your fault, you hear me.” Your hand stroked over his damp hair, pulling it back and making Bucky look at you again. “None of this is your fault. Don’t you ever doubt yourself. What happened to you is horrible. And I vow to kill every single person responsible for keeping us apart for this long. But not once will anyone ever consider this your fault.”
Bucky averted his eyes and turned his head but you were quick to catch his face with your hand. “Promise me you won’t beat yourself up. Please. That’s all I ask of you. Let Steve and me handle the rest and focus on becoming comfortable in your skin again. I can’t wait to meet the man you can become.”
“You don’t want to know me, doll. Not anymore. Even if it wasn’t my fault, it changed me. I’m not the man you-“ he stopped talking as you watched regret flash over his features. “I don’t think I can give you what you deserve.”
“I don’t care what I deserve, Bucky. I want you. I always have and that won’t change because some bullies tried to brainwash you. The very fact that we are here talking like this shows how much stronger you are than them. How the good in you never wavered.”
“But I can’t even trust myself. How can I expect you to do so of me?”
You cradled his head harsher as you felt your own tears roll down your cheek. “All I need is for you to try and trust me. We’ll figure this out... like we always do.”
Bucky’s flesh hand had fallen to your thigh, a soft thumb stroking over your leg and he watched the movement in awe. You didn’t know how long it had been since he had last felt comfort but you were determined to make up for all the lost time. With the wild beating of your heart, you took his metal hand and laved your fingers with his, watching as Bucky’s eyes glued to your smaller hand in his. There was no fear of what could happen, no aversion towards the alien element attached to his body. And then, finally, he encased your hand with his silver fingers. 
Your other hand still stroked his cheek and you waited until he caught your gaze again. And once he did, you did not hesitate to slowly push your lips to his. 
Just a short, sweet kiss. One that held more words than you could ever say. And then you waited. What for? Maybe a rejection, the shake of his head, or the sheer confidence with which he used to kiss you decades back. 
Bucky’s breaths were shaky, his hands still touching you and sending softly timid comfort through your body. He held your gaze for a second... and then, he finally kissed you back. 
please consider showing this post some love if you liked it 💛
Tumblr media
Wanna be added to the taglist?
@circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie @adoreyouusugar @km-ffluv @mcu21lover19 @pigeonmama @wilsons-striped-ties @almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @wintermischief @supersecretblogformytreasures @broadwaybabe18 @fridayiaminlove @buckybarnessimpp @goodkittyspost @justafangirl @simpxinnie @bisexual-buckyfan @blackhawkfanatic @augustbucky @kandis-mom @harleycao @ashhsage @hhiggs @scott-loki-barnes @gabshouse @i-spy-1812 @barnes1031 @am-3-thyst @awkotaco24 @star-buck-barnes @armystay89 @missaprilt23 @rexit-mo
589 notes · View notes
yaut-jaknowit · 7 months
Note
Trio of bad bloods obsessed with their human mechanic. So much so that said human has no choice but to live on their ship because they'd be dammed if someone else touched you! (Not that the human is complaining, lol) The human is smitten :3 perhaps said human teases them to break the sexual tension?
Scared to come off anon still, but I adore your works! ♡
Not A Bad Sight
Pairings: Mai'tuiudh (Male), A'jiadh (Male), Zaikeh (Female) x Mechanic!Reader
Word Count: 2179
Summary: The same trio always shows up every month, sometimes even shorter. You've come to learn more about them both in contact and in passing. You work on their ship. They do ask for you by name. You get their craft operating every time. The longer this goes on, the less the trio wants to let you go.
Author Note: This is a fantastic idea! I loved writing this so much. Also, this gave me an idea for anons. For those who are using Anon, could you use an emoji or even a nickname to distinguish everyone. Another thing, I promise I don't bite! If you want to jump into my Dms and rant about Yautjas, I'll be right there with you
Masterlist
Ao3
Sweat dribbled down your forehead. The heat of the place nearly overwhelming if you hadn’t grown use to it day in, day out. A small electrical fan spun on the highest setting and blew slightly cooler air at you. Not too much of a difference. Someone would have to pry the thing out of your melted, sweat hands before you would give it up though.
With your forearm, you swiped away the offending salty drip of water and continued to tighten a bolt. This was such an easy fix, one any of those hunks of meat could easily do themselves. They are known to get their hands dirty.
Those large muscles you knew had to take years to perfect aren’t a sight you would turn away from. Said muscles could easily unlogde this moderate size space rock, pull the damage panelling up, then replace it.
Not even the hardware underneath the panel was damaged. But nope, the trio came sauntering and always asked you by name. Your boss could care less. It earned her money. Money in both of your pockets was a job well done. Though, you came by honesty with them and let them know this was more trouble for their pockets then it was worth to have you fix. All of them insisted you fixed it, trusting their ship in your hands.
For whatever reason, they always wanted you to make all the repairs on their vessel.
Said vessel was sleek, clean, a speed class with just a hair of defense to take a hit or two. The speed came with its downfall when it came to space junk or debris. That’s why it’s here right now.
A grunt surpassed your lips once the last bolt was secured. You proudly smirked down at the completed work then hoped off the wing.
This ship was a beauty to work on. Yautjas rarely let anyone work on their ships. So, to have an opportunity like this fall into your hands. It would be stupid to pass it on to someone else. Especially seeing all three of them walk out of the shop to pass the time. You hated to see them go but the sight was beautiful.
Like the countless times before, you send a ping to Mai’tuiudh. He’s the leader of the bunch. Well… ‘leader’. He takes charge during the transactions but it’s A’jiadh who chats you up. Then, there’s Zaikeh. The lumber giant even to the other two. A female from the pieces of information you’ve been able to pull about Yautjas and their societies.
Due to the day winding down, you stayed up at the front desk and waited for your familiar customers to walk through. A tablet in hand to keep yourself busy until then.
It’s a rarity to see a female, that you know of from personal experience and the universe wide web. The reason is unknown to you but maybe you could pull the information from one of them one day.
Of course, who knows if the Yautjas are purposefully removing knowledge of their inner workings. They don’t actively seek out other species and stick to their own. A forward going species with a serious attitude that hung to the very depths of their DNA.
A soft ding pulled you from your device and glancing at the only door in and out of this place. In walked the trio you’ve grown to know. You stood up and dipped your head in greeting. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite customers,” you greeted with a knowing smirk, your eyes finding Mai in the front.
Said male strolled into the front area and stopped at the counter dividing the four of you. His partners in crime followed in after him and paused at his sides. A’jiadh leans onto the stone tabletop and pushed closer to your personal space. There was a glint in his eyes you’ve grown to learn. He’s a cheeky little fucker and loves to see you act in any submissive way. You didn’t know if this was him personally or a trait among the Yautjas being such a dominant race.
The others showed the same trait but less of an amount. Just in causal passing, you guessed.
Before Mai could have the chance to speak, A’jiadh beat him to the punch. “So, dollface, everything fixed up for us or were you wanting to see us again for encouragement? Because I can give you all encouragement you could ever ask for,” he teased and leaned even closer to you.
Countless times around the forward Yautja, you’ve learned to just stay where you at. You huffed and rolled your eyes. “You know you could’ve fixed this yourself. You have all the right tools. Nothing was damaged,” you voiced the situations details again with a helpful tone.
Despite not falling into his tricks, A’jiadh wasn’t discouraged at all. No matter how many times you ignored the flirty comments he would throw at you.
Mai shoulder checked the mottled olive green Yautja to the side and fully stepped up to the plate. “How much?” His voice was gravelly and sent a shiver down your spine every time.
You grabbed the tablet off of the counter and scrolled through the list of customers until landing on them. The price was something you would never be willing to pay for something so simple that a child could do… if they had the strength to get the bolts off. But these are Yautjas. Probably the strongest known species that traveled the universe.
Labor and materials do cost a pretty credit around here though. You’re the best known in the system.
A heft sigh pushed the air out of your lungs. You set the tablet on the tall counter in front of him. “Well, it’s gonna be a pretty five-hundred and six credit repair,” you said and pointed towards the bottom of the page where it was typed out.
A’jiadh ‘oo’ed then lifted one of his upper mandibles, resembling a human-like smirk. “Pretty like you.” You raised a single brow at the Yautja before you put your hands on your hips, jutting one out.
“Love, you couldn’t handle me,” you said and shook your head to feign discouragement to the Yautja. It’s not like you wanted them to give up. No, instead, you wanted them to chase. Predator vs prey.
Fire blazed to life in his teal blue eyes. You weren’t oblivious to their intentions. Far from it. You knew their game as the hunters their species is known for. A game you were more than happy to play along with. But it’ll be a hard game. No easy mode.
“Is that so?” he purred out, muscles tensing as if he was readying himself for a hunt.
Before the game could continue between the two of you, Mai handed back the device. “All paid,” he interrupted and rested an elbow on the high counter afterwards. Your gaze jumped over to him. You took the tablet back and set it off to the side.
“Well, come on folks, your chariot awaits.” They’ve been back here so many times that you didn’t necessarily needed to lead them but decided to anyhow. Again, you would love to be on the other side of them. All of them walking away.
The door opened to reveal the massive hanger with many other vessels in here for repairs. Always busy, always working here. A shop that does good work always has an influx of customers. That’s this shop.
Closer to the front of the line up, sat their beautifully crafted ship. You loved to work on it every time they brough it in. Stunning in style and sleekness. You could never get enough of it. A smile worked its way onto your face before you stopped and about faced. “Here’s your beauty. Everything checked out. I got bored and ran a check on all the systems to ensure they were working properly. No issues. I’m happy to say she has a clean bill of health.”
Zaikeh stopped at your side, facing the ship. She looked down at you. Like usual, the black scaled Yautja stayed quiet and observed you within the silence. It freaked you at first but you have come to learn that’s just how she is.
“Got any questions for me?” you asked the trio before fully releasing the ship back into their care.
A’jaidh chirped and crowded into your space. You didn’t back down and enjoyed his heat brushing against your skin. A better feel than the sweltering heat the hanger gets on average. “What would it take for you to come with us?” he questioned.
Out of all the times you’ve interacted with them, these words surprised you. Your brows shot up to your hair line. Your mouth sputtered for a moment to find the right words. “W-what do you me-an?” Come with them? In what way? You don’t travel very often. The shop keeps you busy and happily wealthy to live in a comfortable apartment by yourself in a safe area on the planet.
He moved closer, your chest to his midriff. You didn’t see it happen before you felt another source of heat trap you to A’jaidh. “I think you know what he means, little one.” The smooth voice of Zaikeh met your ears. You could melt into a puddle from the heat inside of you, boiling your blood to steam.
“Like go with you guys?” you needed clarification before agreeing to anything. All this talk, this game you’ve played was in its last quarter, you had to make the last goal to win.
“Be our mechanic. Only ours. We’ll keep you safe, fed, and pampered,” Mai whispered into your ear, surprising you from his sudden appearance. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to escape. They caught their prey.
You.
“All you have to do is stay with us,” Mai muttered softly in your other ear, somehow moving around quickly. He was showing off his prowess and abilities as a hunter. “Be our mechanic. We’ll take care of you, little ooman.”
Your heart stuttered in its bony cage. You swallowed down the lump in your throat and gave the idea a thought. The ability to reach for the stars, go anywhere with them. Yeah, the shop was fun, the money was good. But this here, was an opportunity you would die for. Kill for even. Three Yautjas wanted you. You wanted the three Yautjas.
All the plays you endured while playing this game with them is paying off. You swallowed your nerves and straightened your spine before looking to the side at Mai. He was the leader after all. “I’ll go with you,” you accepted, couldn’t deny the way your body vibrated with anticipation and anxiety.
A Cheshire-like grin spread across his alien face. “Good, because it wasn’t a choice. You’re ours. No one is allowed to touch you or even look in your general vicinity,” Mai growled and brushed his knuckled against your cheek.
“Yeah, we aren’t below kidnapping you. But, we’re glad you’ve decided to come willingly,” A’jaidh joined the conversation.
Kidnapping?! “You were going to kidnap me? That doesn’t seem very honorable. Wouldn’t that break your honor code?” you questioned and tilted your head.
The hand that brushed against your cheek snatched your chin to lift up your head. Mai’tuiudh stood up tall before your form. “Honor? Oh sweet thing, we don’t care about honor. We are Bad Bloods after all,” he admitted. Your eyes widened at the realization that these Yautjas aren’t part of the majority of their species society. Instead, they’re the rouges who’ve broke their promise and honor. There was nothing holding them back from killing you.
And you loved it.
The two Yautjas pinning you between them finally backed off and allowed you to have some breathing room. Mai kept his hold on your chin and dragged you closer to him. “You’re ours now, ooman.” Then Mai let go and motioned towards the ship. Without complaint you happily skipped towards the belly of the ship.
Just like them, you knew the ship like the back of your hand. You tapped in the code to lower the ramp and waited for it go fully down. A glance behind you showed they were following you into their ship. Nothing could wipe off the smile on your face. A new, exciting chapter in your life.
693 notes · View notes
jojissalsa · 10 months
Text
Dangerous Game (part one)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
you get a new job as a federal agent for the F.O.S, and now you're stuck dealing with the reckless D.S.O agent, Leon Kennedy.
Warnings: dom/older!Leon, sub!reader, slight age gap (reader is in late 20s, up to y'all), dirty thoughts, masturbation (f and m). this one is fairly tame. kinda.
WC: 2.8k
an: hey y'all!! i'm hoping to make this into a 3 parter, felt like my idea is a lil too big for just one fic, that's why this one is probably a tad more tame compared my previous stuff. as per usual, critique, reposts and requests are welcome! enjoy <3 (minors do not interact, go touch grass.)
Tumblr media
Working for the Field Operations Support is fairly easy, you got a nice seat at the front desk as the receptionist, you’ve worked there for a good couple of years. Nothing crazy ever happened, and everyone respected you pretty well. Especially Hunnigan. Well, Ingrid to you, Hunnigan to your coworkers. You always respected her the most, always envious of her job. You initially applied for her job, but you could take being a receptionist. You could live vicariously through her, since she seemed to like you the most in and outside of work. Hunnigan was always so sweet, giving you a pleasant smile and a morning chat whenever she’d come in for work, bringing you lunch as you two got closer. That also opened the door to lots of girl talk, mainly about how stressful the job was sometimes. Hunnigan loved her job, truly, but it came with heavy challenges. A very heavy one would be Leon Kennedy, a D.S.O agent she’s worked with for a majority of her career.
You’ve heard some of the horror stories from her about the bioweapons, insidious cults and rich white guys that try to carry on Umbrella’s work but fail miserably every time. This time seemed a bit different though, more final for her. “Honestly, the guy is an idiot sometimes. Likable, but an idiot.” You snicker at how nice she’s being for how pissed she looks, angrily sipping her coffee from the breakroom. “I think you mean he’s a lovable dumbass, but I guess that works too.” You chuckle softly, stirring sugar into your own fresh cup of coffee. “Hey, I’m serious this time. I mean, come on, I’m getting older.” Hunnigan watches as you sit down across from her, a worried expression starting to take over your features. “You really think it’s time to call it quits?” “Maybe not quitting just yet, just maybe looking over a different agent. Spots are starting to open up y’know.” Your eyebrows shoot up at that, trying to hide your excitement as you look down to sip your coffee. “Well, maybe I can take your spot? I’m pretty confident, and I’ve done all the training.” She shares your new found excitement, reaching out to put her hand over yours. “I’ll pull some strings, okay? I think we both need a change of scenery.” Her sweet smile never fails to spread to you, you can trust her. She’s been your best friend, if you’re being honest, and you’re sure she shares the same sentiment.
It didn’t take long for those strings to be pulled, and soon you were standing in front of the President and a few other important men in nice suits, watching as you shake hands and smile awkwardly. Finally, you get a briefing on the infamous federal agent you would be helping. Leon Scott Kennedy. He’s got a good reputation with everyone in the room, saying that while he may have an “eccentric” personality, he’s a hard working man, compliments all coming from the President. You heard about it from Hunnigan and a few other agents that he saved his daughter from a deathly cult, and brought it all down in the same day. You could tell from his file that he clearly worked a lot, even if he didn’t get this job on his own violation. Sucks that he was forced into his life, but it’s good that he’s making it work. Seems like a good looking guy too, at least from the small picture of him clipped to the folder.
And now you’re waiting for that good looking guy to walk into your new office, setting down a few knick-knacks you had on your previous desk. You turn your head to the sound of someone walking in, your eyes widening as they set on the man who seemed to be searching for someone. Good looking was an understatement of the century. The way his blazer fits just right on his biceps, his light brown hair and piercing gaze that just speaks "brooding loner", if you weren't at work you'd have fallen to your knees the second he made eye contact with you. You try to reel in your awe as he walks up to you, dusting off your clothes to make you look put together. "So you're my new babysitter? Y/n, right? I'm Leon Kennedy." Just the sound of his voice is enough to give you goosebumps, but your name from his lips is like a drug that gets you hooked instantly. And just like that, something flips in your brain, you are so not gonna be professional, how can you? How can anyone handle themselves around this man? You shake his hand as he extends it for you, and the feel of his rough hand from hard work sends so many dirty thoughts through your mind, like how good it would feel with his fingers on your neck, or his palm pressed against your tit, or how thick his fingers would feel inside you- chill out, play it cool.
"It's great to finally meet you, Mr. Kennedy, everyone has told me a lot about you.." You make sure to say it in a sultry tone to make it obvious how much you think he's attractive, and he sure as hell catches it. "Good things, I hope." He chuckles, giving you a sly smirk. Oh he knows. Fuck. "Oh don't worry, it's been all good things, promise. Though, I have heard that you made Hunnigan’s job a lot harder." You tease, looking him up and down and matching his sly smirk. Two can play that game. "Sure, but I get the job done, no?" The way he says it is so damn sexy you're sure he's doing what you're doing. "I'm sure you get a lot of things done with that attitude, Mr. Kennedy." You act like you're being sarcastic as you cross your arms under your chest, but you know how he could make you cum with the brush of his arm. "Only one way to find out, right?" That one makes your eyebrows raise, your smile widening as you blush slightly. "Is that an invitation?" You drop your voice slightly, leaning against the wall. The curve of your body sends a shockwave of arousal through him, and his eyes narrow on your figure. "If that's what you think I meant then by all means." He's so damn smug and it just makes you wanna sit on his face to shut him up.
"Is there anything you wanna ask me? About myself, the job?" You try to sound professional and not desperate, but you feel like it's helpless when you're looking up at him and he's so obviously checking you out, his eyes taking note of every curve on your body. Like he’s studying it for later. "I think I have a pretty good idea from Hunnigan and the President, is there anything you wanna ask me?" His question makes your eyes light up, but you don't wanna immediately ask him on a date. Classy, that's who you are to your core. "I can ask you anything I want?" "Anything." You smile smugly, lowering your hand to take his, clearly inspecting his ring finger as you bring it closer to you. "Do you have a girl? I don't see a ring on your finger." You say it in an innocent yet flirty tone that he so obviously gets turned on from, considering how he chuckles lightly as he shakes his head before taking his hand away. "So observant. I guess that comes with the job, huh? No, I'm single." Always such a tease, I guess neither of you can help that though. "Really? I have a hard time believing that." You have a faux surprised look on your face, all in the name of trying to get him to blush. You're getting close, you can feel it. "Is it? I'm an old man, what can I say." That one gets you shifting your thighs, biting your lip as you think of just how much older. What kind of experience comes with that age? "Old man, hmm? You ever thought of being with someone younger?" You step a little closer, just barely invading his personal space. "Haven't met anybody that can keep up." He says it so nonchalant, but fuck if it doesn't light a fire that spreads throughout your body. God, it's so hard not to say you could totally keep up, doesn't matter how long he'd want it. "Keep up, hmm? What, does this job give you a lot of stamina or something?" Your question makes him smile at you confidently, and it gets you oh so excited. "Well, I meant that most women don't like that I'm constantly busy, but if you wanna be dirty minded about it, be my guest." He totally stumps you, and it just makes you giggle and rest your hand on his arm, letting out a lil “my bad” before letting it slip away. You're slick, cause you honestly just touched his arm to feel how firm it was, and oh my god. Like diamonds, kind of hard. You can't imagine how fucking good it’d feel wrapped around your neck- there you go again. Snap out of it.
“You're pretty funny, you know that? I’m gonna have fun talking to you. For work, of course.” He let out a soft laugh at your flattery, loving how you tried to soften the thirstiness of your words with a joke. It's cute, you're really trying to say he's not hot. “Trust me, Hunnigan got very tired of my jokes.” You scoff, cause honestly, who could get tired of this guy? “Sorry, but she doesn't know what she's talking about, clearly you're an A class comedian.” You make it sound a little sarcastic, but he doesn't seem offended in the slightest. He loves a challenge. “Yeah? Aren't you a sweetheart? You love to flatter.” Your eyes widen a bit, resisting the urge to squeal and fan your hot face like a rabid fangirl, simply looking away to try and take a moment away from his hungry gaze. “I mean, it's hard not to, Mr. Kennedy..” You sheepishly give him that win, you’ll take it since he called you sweetheart, and in that teasing, cocky fucking tone of all things. If Cupid was real, you’d probably have a million arrows in your back right now. He parts his lips to reply, but gets cut off by his phone ringing, taking it out of his pocket to see the President calling. “Shit, I gotta take this.” He sighs, clearly wanting to keep talking to you instead. “It’s just Leon by the way, no need for formalities.” You get a smug smile again before he starts to walk back to the door of your office, walking with him to let him leave so you could wave him goodbye. “I’ll see you around, okay?” You nod, your smirk not leaving as he waits for you to say goodbye. “I’ll see you around, Mr. Kennedy~” You and your teasing, it's gonna throw him into cardiac arrest. He shares your smugness before begrudgingly answering his phone, looking back to see you waving bye at him with your dainty little hand. Like you knew he didn't wanna end the conversation.
He couldn't stop thinking about you all damn day after your little exchange, could barely focus on his briefing or look anyone in the eye. Even when he got home, knowing he had to wake up supremely early for work, he couldn't get you off his mind. You weren’t like every corporate drone the D.S.O hires, nothing like Hunnigan either. Bless the woman, but he would finally have someone to laugh at his shitty dad jokes. No wonder you got the job. You were drop dead gorgeous to him, not daring to come close to any Victoria Secret model. The way you giggle when you're nervous, how you sneak touches or how forward you are. God, it took every fiber in his body to not grab you and fuck you in a storage closet. Or against the wall? He just towers over you, he could fold you like a lawn chair and you’d take every inch. Fuck, how did his cock get in his hand? Who cares, honestly. He’s too busy spitting in his hand, too worked up to get anything better to help him jerk off. He groans, thinking of how good your soft, delicate fingers you used to wave at him would feel wrapped around his dick, whispering in his ear in that sexy voice you have. He feels chills down his spine when he remembers the way you teased him, how you didn't even say his name. Cause you didn't wanna give it to him yet, that satisfaction. Jesus, you're gonna kill him before any bioweapon does if you keep that shit up. His hand gets faster as his thoughts keep speeding forward, thinking about how good you’d sound saying his name. Not Mr. Kennedy, Leon. He has to hear it, has to hear you scream it when you cum on his cock. He needs to know how pretty you’d look when you cum, clinging to his arms, maybe even digging your nails into his back as your legs lock around his waist. So fucking hot as you beg to have him fill you up. He cums in his hand, spilling out of his palm and down his happy trail. He lets out a heavy sigh, catching his breath as he comes down from his high. He's not even close to feeling satisfied, even as he gets up to go shower again. He needs you, and he knows you feel the same. Hard part is gonna be getting you, without all the stress of what your coworkers would say.
You honestly don't stray too far from how he felt that night either. The second you closed the door to your office, you sat down and processed everything. It was a lot, seeing a man that fucking fine and not being able to drop to your knees and take his cock in your mouth. You were close to sprinting to a bathroom and taking care of the issue, maybe even slipping a hand between your legs and just testing the waters. Literally. He made you so wet, and you could feel it your entire shift, even as you walked to your car. You could only imagine how wet you’d get if he actually did anything. If he talked dirty? Him telling you to cum would make you do it on the spot, no question. Fuck, if he touched you? You’d be screaming like a damn pornstar, waking up the whole building when he slides his cock inside you. It's all you can think about when you get home, not caring to take a shower when you do. You just plop down on your bed and practically tear your clothes off, desperate for relief. Maybe that’ll save your career, fucking yourself thinking about him. So you do, pulling your nightstand drawer open the second you’re naked, taking out ol’ reliable. You can't count on your hands how many times this vibrator was there for you, it was way more reliable than your parents or therapist. Or you could be addicted to cumming, that too. But who wouldn't be? It's not your concern, especially if it's because of Leon. You wanna hear him say the most degrading, defiling, depraved shit in the world but still praise you for it, praise you for putting out so easily cause you're such a good girl. If fucking him with no hesitation makes you a slut, then you wear that badge proudly. That title feels even better when you start moaning his name, your toy hitting that sweet spot which makes you move your hand faster, needing to cum so damn bad. It feels so dirty in the best way possible, thinking of how firm his thighs would feel under your hands as you grip them tighter every time he shoves his cock further down your throat. You can’t imagine how fucking hot it’d be to hear him order you to grind your wet cunt on his boot, holding your hair so hard that you can’t help but push your nose against his pelvis, making your clit nudge against his boot again. Hearing that cocky son of a bitch tell you to cum would be like the devil coaxing you to join him down in hell, too sinful to imagine without having the real thing. It doesn't stop you from cumming on your toy, whining as your legs shake, turning it off as you heave out breaths. You’re fine if you think about him every night, it's good material for your shower thoughts. You’re more excited for his upcoming mission, making you all giddy as you get ready for bed. You're gonna be insufferable. Lucky Leon~
400 notes · View notes
jo-harrington · 7 months
Text
Longevity (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)
Tumblr media
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: Longevity (noun) - continuance; durability; permanence
Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.06
Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. (For now.) Fluff, a little angst, discussions of the future, vignettes/time jumps, smut, HEA.
Note: Alright here it is, and it is a HONKING CHAPTER. But how could I break it up into pieces when it's The End? I'm tucking my little babies into the dollhouse and closing it up so they can live on the rest of their lives. To Eddie and Store Manager, I love you both dearly and you were the thing that brought me back to writing and into a wonderful community of writers and readers. To everyone reading, thank you so much for your endless support. You will never know how much it's appreciated.
You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing. Seriously, go read it.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
April 1986
"Ope, if it isn't the man of the hour, Mr. Edward G. Robinson himself. We were just talking about you."
That was the greeting that found Eddie as he walked into Claire's after school on a lovely Thursday afternoon, ready to share some good news before his closing shift.
Great news, actually, if he was being honest. Life-changing news that he was sure would earn him a ton of kisses that he'd been craving after a long week of assignments and standardized tests.
Imagine his surprise then, that instead of finding you and Mindy behind the counter, chatting after a supposed "big visit" you'd told him that you had today, you still had company.
He skidded to a halt at the sight. Your guest smiled up at him with her hands on her hips.
Short in stature, blonde hair in pristine victory rolls, bold makeup that consisted of layers of glittery eyeshadow, and wrists adorned with stacks of multicolored scrunchies.
"It's nice to see you again Jen," he greeted your old Store Manager.
He'd only met her in person once, but had heard countless fond and semi-unbelievable stories about her from you--and apparently she'd heard the same about him, having greeted him with a bone-crushing hug the first time they met—so there was a familiarity and fondness there that they both indulged.
"What are you doing here?" he asked casually and crossed the distance to throw an arm over your shoulder and press a kiss to your temple. "I thought you said that you wouldn't be caught dead in Indiana."
You, Mindy, and Jen all broke out in a fit of giggles and Eddie felt a sudden sense of instinctual dread.
"Well then get ready to start planning my funeral kid," Jen announced. "Because you're about to start seeing a lot more of me."
"Jen just got promoted," you interjected finally.
"Oh yeah?"
"To District Manager. So she's gonna be my boss. Again."
"Oh, shi--shoot," Eddie felt like he'd been doused with cold water at the revelation. He peeled his arm from around your shoulder and took a wide step to put distance between the two of you. "That's...wow. Congratulations."
He'd been through a handful of DM visits at TapeWorld, never on his own, always under Kyle's cool guidance; however, he'd come to realize that the stiff authority figure of his District Manager Jeff was something to be feared.
So even though he was excited for Jen--your friend--on her promotion, the sudden realization that Jen--your boss--was standing here watching him make an idiot out of himself and possibly put your job at risk...
"Oh my god," Jen broke down in a fit of laughter. "Look at him, he's about to shit himself. Take a chill pill Ed, Jesus. I’m not gonna be a hardass until next week. If that.”
Once everyone had their fill of laughter, and Jen promised that she wasn't going to hold your relationship over your head--
"So long as you're not in here interfering with the business or making out on the sales floor or something."
--Eddie pulled you to the side and finally revealed his big news.
"So," he began excitedly. "It, uh, looks like I'm on the road to graduation. Like really graduating. Not just 'if I don't fuck it up in the home stretch' this time. I'm actually gonna graduate."
"Oh my god," you grabbed him by his jacket and shook him as joy bubbled in his chest from your reaction. "Eddie that's amazing!"
You asked him a few questions and your eyes sparkled proudly as he recounted his talk with his guidance counselor, and he couldn't help the smile that stayed on his face the entire time. Especially when you let out a shriek of joy and jumped around.
"We need to go and celebrate!" you insisted.
"I mean," he suddenly got bashful. "I haven't graduated yet."
"Still, it's big. You worked so hard." You looked back over at Jen and Mindy who were talking at the cash wrap. "I know you're closing tonight but I'm taking Jen out for drinks a little later. When you get out of work, meet us at the Hideaway. I'll get you the Wayne and a beer. And then afterwards, uh...if you wanna come back to my place? Like...actually celebrate?”
He grinned and nodded eagerly; you'd taken the words right out of his mouth.
---
His shift had gone by quickly and he’d joined you and Jen at the Hideaway with Kyle in tow. Kyle who was not only proud of Eddie and wanted to treat him to a beer for his efforts, but also intrigued at the possibility of schmoozing a pretty new face in town.
“Sometimes,” he announced with a flourish when he returned to StarCourt right before store close, dressed in the nicest clothes Eddie had ever seen him wear. “You need to take a chance. How many times did I tell you that kid? You miss all the chances you don’t take. That’s why it took you so long to get a girlfriend.”
Jen, unfortunately, laughed right in Kyle’s face when he kissed her hand upon introduction.
“I’m engaged, Romeo,” she informed him. “Sorry.”
“I don’t see a ring. You can let me down Jenny. Tell me the truth, I won’t be hurt.”
“You’re sweet. But it’s the truth. I just don’t wear the ring to work.”
“Alright, alright,” He sighed, then got a sly look. “Any chance you have a sister? Or a brother? I’m an equal opportunity man looking for true love.”
The night was filled with hearty food, rounds of beer, fantastical stories of retail hell and 4th Quarters past, and accomplishments on everyone’s part.
Kyle bragged about a new car he had just put a down payment on.
Your store had hit some Diamond Earring milestone that only you and Jen seemed to understand but the excitement was contagious.
Eddie got a round of applause from the table when you urged him to announce his big news to everyone.
Honestly he couldn’t care about Kyle or Jen’s reaction, it was seeing you look at him with all the pride and affection in the world that he basked in. He couldn’t wait for the actual graduation ceremony, for you to be front and center with Wayne and Rick and all of his friends. There to witness his hard work come to fruition…and for him to flip Principal Higgins off.
And then Jen stood up and announced her own accomplishment right before last call.
“So,” she cleared her throat and held up her glass and pulled something out of her coat. “I know I already celebrated back home and I don’t really know either of you, Kyle and Ed, but I know my little protégée here would be happy for me.
”Alongside my wonderful and well-earned promotion to DM, I also received my Longevity pin.”
She opened a little velvet jewelry box and showed off a tiny glittering purple pin with a tiny little diamond chip in place of the dot of the “I” in Claire’s.
“Ten long years,” Jen announced after a swig of her beer, “with the Purple Glitter Factory. And all I have to show for it is a pin, a little more money, and a lot more responsibility. God. Growing up sucks. But I’m very proud. And you’re next kid.”
She laid a hand on your head and you waved her off with visible embarrassment then disappeared to go and close out your tabs.
Later that night as you and Eddie settled into bed to sleep after some celebratory activities, Eddie laid awake and stared at the ceiling. Thinking.
“What are your plans for the future?” He asked after a beat.
“Uh,” you shifted your head on his shoulder so you could look at him. “Is this because of all of Jen’s talk of careers and stuff?”
“Yeah. And graduation. And all of that stuff. So? What do you wanna do…where do you wanna be…when you’re older?”
“God, I dunno. I got my associates in business because I was hoping it would help me get my own store. And I did. It also was so boring, I don’t want to go back to school. I guess the next thing is…actually take a vacation day now that I’m earning them. What about you?”
“Music legend,” he answered immediately.
“Uh huh.”
“Guess that’s gonna take some work though, huh?”
“No shit.” You rolled your eyes and then sighed as you settled against him once again. “There’s a reason you asked, Ed. What’s going on in that big head of yours?”
He ran his tongue along the seam of his lips repeatedly as he considered…everything that was laid out in front of him.
Corroded Coffin.
Tape World.
What about Hellfire? Damn, he knew Dustin and Will were the future of the club but…a few years down the line. What about next year? He was gonna have to pass the torch to Gare or Dave after he left. They weren’t ready yet.
And what was he gonna do after school was over? Could he see himself taking a class at TCCC? Maybe. Jeff had been showing him the Catalog at lunch the other day. There was a Creative Writing course that looked cool.
10 years.
That was half his life away. Impossible to imagine. Would there be flying cars by then? Space travel? He could enlist in Starfleet, meet Captain Kirk. Ok maybe that last one was stupid.
"10 years,” Eddie whispered into the top of your head as he rid himself of the fantastical thoughts. “That’s an awful long time.”
“Well it’s a good thing we have all that time to figure it out.”
We…
“Yeah. Yeah we do.”
He could only hope you’d still be there with him. One way or another.
---
July 1987
The spot lights were blinding and the air thick with humidity; his throat was dry and his fingers ached from how hard he was on the fretboard.
But the crowd was cheering and that’s all that mattered right?
No, what really mattered was the music.
And the band.
That's why he was up here with his friends, demolishing the bridge of The Sentinel, laughing and jumping and barely giving a shit when he missed a note or Jeff’s fingers fumbled or Gareth lost the beat for a second. He didn't even mind that the County Clerk had them censor out the "cuss words" of the songs they'd chosen.
It was exhilarating just to be able to play on an actual stage.
It had taken 2 years but they were finally playing at the Roane County 4th of July Festival. An actual gig. And not the first one they'd played, but certainly the biggest so far. Big enough and successful enough that Eddie expected it to be a standing gig for the foreseeable future.
The Polka Band from Kenosha hadn't gotten nearly half as many people and they were, by far, the most successful act of the night before Corroded Coffin.
There was a sea of friends, neighbors, families, and out-of-towners just below the stage, snacks and drinks in-hand, as they danced and jumped and headbanged to song after song. Rick and Wayne were out at Benny's getting all set up for the next stop on Corroded Coffin's "Independence Day Tour" but you were out there in the crowd with Mindy and her family, singing along and cheering louder than everyone whenever a song ended.
Which was why Eddie didn't hesitate to dedicate the final song of the set to you.
"This next one isn't our usual sound," he spoke into the microphone, words a little muffled as his lips brushed against it. "It's a little slow. Something you can dance to, so gentlemen please grab your ladies, tell them how much you love them. But before we begin...did you all know...it's almost Back to School time."
There was a series of boo's from the crowd.
"Now now, maybe yet not for you all, but definitely for a special someone out there," he shushed them and traded Sweetheart for his mom's old acoustic guitar. He plucked a few notes and then continued. "A special someone...who leaves me all alone every once in a while. Late nights. Lonely nights while I wait by the phone, as she and her team make magic happen and she forgets all about me. See I'm saying all of this because she's about to leave me high and dry this coming Sunday night, so I have to guilt her a little otherwise she won't let me surprise her with hash browns and coffee when she gets out of work.
"Queen of Glitter Kingdom," Eddie squinted and looked around the crowd until he found you standing there holding your hand over Mindy's mouth as she looked like she was about to cry. He pointed right at you. "My life, my world, my cheeseburger. This one's for you."
He and Jeff then began to harmonize their guitars for the opening of Beth.
---
"You're a shithead, you know that."
"Mmm...but I'm your shithead, sweetheart."
It was late. Wayne, Rick, and the guys had all left. You and Eddie were sitting across from each other in a booth at Benny's, as the last few fair-goers trickled in for a late night snack. Your own dinner sat half-eaten on the table between you--patty melts and an apple pie shake to share--as you talked and laughed and played footsie.
He and the boys needed to rush across town after their set was over so they made it in time for Ben's advertised happy hour, so he hadn't gotten the chance to get an earful or a kiss from you after his little spectacle.
Fortunately, you were giving him hell for it now, and although he was wiped, he gladly accepted your teasing wrath.
"Is Wayne still around?" You turned in your seat and looked at the sparse group of customers. "I'd like to make a return."
"Mmm...well I moved out in January so I think it's after the 90-day return policy," he said matter-of-factly.
"God damn it," you laughed and snapped your fingers. "And I think I lost the receipt too."
"Stuck with me forever," he teased in a sing-song. There was a beat and he straightened up in his seat and drummed a rhythm on the table with his knuckles. "So...I think it went well."
"I think so too," you agreed brightly.
"You know, Jeff found some...Septemberfest thing out in Jasper..."
Your eyes sparkled at Eddie's words, and he felt the flutter of butterflies deep inside of him that always kicked up when you gave him your excitement and encouragement.
“It’s not a competition or anything but there’s a prize for most popular act of the weekend. Audience ballot and everything. I think it would be cool.”
"That's great!" you grinned. "You should go for it."
"But it's Labor Day weekend."
"So?"
"Paulie's going for a promotion," he shrugged. "Kyle's gonna want us all there in case Jeff comes for a visit."
"And? I didn't know Paulie was planning on opening for Corroded Coffin. What's he playing? The kazoo?" you joked.
"Well no," Eddie shook his head. "But if he leaves...I mean, I'm the best bet for FTASM. I don't want to lose out on that for the future. That'd be...the money would be nice. Can do some repairs on the van. Maybe I'd get my own store someday too."
Your face crumpled--brows furrowed and lips pursed--and you didn't hesitate to shuffle out from your side of the booth and kneel beside him on his. You placed a hand on his forehead for a moment and then tilted his head back and forth.
"Uh, sweetheart," he placed a hand on your waist to steady you as you shuffled closer to pull the back the neck of his t-shirt to look for something. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to see if my Rockstar Eddie Munson action figure is broken," you explained.
"Uhhh."
"Or at least if I accidentally left him at the fair and picked up a Corporate Shill Eddie action figure instead?"
"What?" he laughed.
"How about Suburban Dad Eddie?" you asked. You straightened your posture, pulled on non-existent suspenders, and lowered your voice comedically. "Gotta prepare for tax season. Cut the grass. Do some repairs on the van."
"Stop," he pulled you down to sit beside him in the booth. "I just...don't wanna take the chance on that when I know the full time position is a sure thing."
"Ed," you shook your head at him. "I know you like Tape World but...promotions always come around, music is your dream."
"I know."
"Why did you tell me about this Septemberfest thing if you were not gonna go through with it anyway?"
"I dunno," he turned away from you and went to grab the shake. "I guess I just wanted to pick the thing...that you'd be most proud of."
"Listen here mister," you grabbed him by the chin and made him look at you, Apple Pie Shake be damned. "I'm always gonna be proud of you and support you in whatever path you want."
He nodded for a second and then stole a kiss from you with a soft "I know, thank you." You let yourself get lost in the feeling for a second, but Eddie knew that you weren't gonna let him distract you from the discussion at hand.
You put a hand on his chest and pushed him away, then stared him directly in the eye.
"So?" you asked. "What kind of future do you want?"
His eyes darted between yours--your gaze hard and challenging but nonetheless filled with hope and affection--and he had his answer.
---
May 1989
You could feel Eddie fidget in the seat beside you.
"Calm down," you muttered to him.
"Can't help it," he whispered back; you could tell he straightened out his posture, but his knee still bounced. "Too excited."
A name was called over the loudspeaker, then another, then another.
"Eddie seriously," Gareth was the one to give it a shot this time, leaning across you to put a hand on Eddie's knee and get him to stop fidgeting. "You're gonna shit yourself if you don't stop."
"Shit, sorry, this is only like..." he shook his head. "The most important thing I've ever done in my life."
You, Gareth, Jeff, and Dave all shot him skeptical and unamused looks.
"I don't have time to argue right now," he scoffed at the rest of you. "Shut up, here it comes."
"Peter Halliwell...Dustin Henderson..."
All five of you jumped to your feet and cheered and clapped, along with another group a few rows up that consisted of Dustin's mom, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and their respective partners.
It was a repeat occurrence several times over that afternoon, as you witnessed the Hawkins High Class of '89 cross the stage and receive their diplomas.
"That's my kid," Eddie wiped a fake tear as each of his former Freshman Sheepies were called on stage, but he was especially emotional with Dustin. And when the newest DM of Hellfire flipped Higgins off before running off stage? Eddie stood on his chair and whooped and whistled. “That’s my boy!”
“Sit down Munson,” Higgins spoke into the microphone, over an audience that had become uproarious with laughter.
“It’s tradition now, Higgy,” Eddie shouted, words amplified by the hands he’d cupped around his mouth; still, he jumped down and took his seat so the rest of the ceremony could continue.
“You’re unbelievable,” you giggled at his antics. “You do know that right?”
“I’m unbelievably loveable,” he replied, quickly accompanied by the scoffs and mocking fart noises of his friends. He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “Unbelievably in love with you.”
“Uh huh.” His tongue snaked out and he licked into your ear obnoxiously. “Fuck off!” You pushed him away from you with a shrieking laugh.
It wasn’t long before that the real reason you were in attendance at the graduation walked across the stage. Because yes, the kids were your friends but you wouldn’t miss this for the world.
“Jane Hopper,” came the announcement and you, once again, got to your feet with a cheer, along with her family and friends in the next aisle of seats. Chief Hopper had his camcorder out and his shoulders visibly shook as he sobbed for his daughter, and you couldn’t help but feel your heartstrings pull.
If Dustin and the boys were Eddie’s little sheepies, you supposed Janey was one of yours. From a shy girl whose ears you’d pierced for the first time in your early days at StarCourt, to one of your die hard regulars who looked up to you over the years trying to emulate your style, to one of your associates when she came in for her first summer job at 16; you’d watched Jane grow and gain confidence and really come into her own.
That was the high point of your career as a Store Manager, and something you happily shared with Eddie: seeing the kids you took under your wing flourish.
“All the birds have flown the coop Mom,” Eddie teased as you sat down and actually wiped a tear from your cheek.
“I think you guys can cut the Mom and Dad bit now,” Jeff said matter-of-factly. “Until you guys have your own kids someday.”
That was something you and Eddie happily shared too.
The two of you looked at each other for a moment…before making the most exaggerated vomiting and gagging noises, unfortunately getting looks from the people around you.
“Pass,” you and Eddie announced in tandem.
---
After the ceremony was over, Chief Hopper invited everyone to the shared Hopper-Byers abode for a barbecue. And by everyone, it seemed like he literally invited the entire town to the lakeside cabin the family called home.
All of the kids and their friends and families, Benny was somehow there—had he closed the diner for the day? Good, he deserved a day off—a handful of Hop’s coworkers and friends, including Wayne and Rick.
There were hamburgers and beers, conversation and music overlapping one another.
Eddie was in his element though, and it warmed your heart to see him talk and spiel and be accepted by such a big group when, not so long ago, it seemed like he’d been shunned by them. Even now, you could see some hesitation as he stiffly talked with douchebag Callahan and Mike’s asshole dad, but he wasn’t sweating bullets or falling back on the pricklier parts of his personality. He even cracked a smile once or twice.
What would his life had been like if he’d had this all along?
It was silly to think about after you’d been dating for years but…would he have asked you out sooner? Would you even still be together now? You thought about the ways that the kids had grown into their own…but it wasn’t hard to also appreciate how much the two of you had grown side by side as well.
Especially when you considered the next step you were about to embark on together...
“You’re thinking too loud,” Eddie startled you as he snuck up behind you and dangled a fresh beer in your face. You shot him a scathing look but he easily recovered, back into your good graces, as he swooped an arm around your shoulder and pecked a kiss to your temple. “What’s got you all sour?”
“Not sour,” you shrugged and picked at the label on the beer bottle. “Just…I don’t know. Thinking."
"Always a bad idea."
"Reflecting.”
“Well you look like you’re about to tell someone to get fucked so…”
"Maybe I am," you grinned at him cheekily.
"As long as it isn't me." He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "But you know it gets me going either way."
You slapped the back of your hand against his chest just as a gaggle of voices called your names.
Jane was the first one to run your way from across the yard, with Dustin and Lucas hot on her heels. They were all talking over one another, and Jane especially looked like she was about to burst into tears.
Eddie was the one to try to make sense of them, and he yelled a bellowing "shut up" that got them to stop their barrage.
"You're leaving?" Jane asked, looking directly at you. "Leaving Hawkins?"
"Uh," you paused and looked at Eddie, who held his hands up innocently.
"Gareth's got a big mouth," he reasoned.
"Of course he does," you rolled your eyes and then turned back to the kids. "Uh...yeah we are. At the end of the summer. I’m opening a new store. Again."
"What about you?" Dustin demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at Eddie.
"Where my lady goes, I must follow," he stood tall and held a hand over his heart for a second, chivalrous as ever, before he took a sip of his beer and slumped back into his usual posture. "Besides, Corroded Coffin has a better chance in a bigger city. We're big fish in a small tank in Hawkins. Gonna pack up the van; give Chicago a chance to chew us up and spit us out."
Eddie and the boys bickered back and forth--gathering a small crowd of onlookers the longer it went--about the trip and the plans about where you'd all live and work while you stood there with Jane.
"How could you just leave?" she asked.
"Oh, honey, that's just...how it is," you reassured her. "I get a new assignment, Mindy takes over. And I'll be back to visit. Maybe you and Max will take a drive up for a weekend in the city."
"That'd be fun."
"It isn't goodbye."
"I know," she nodded somberly.
"Besides, you're going off to school in the fall," you reminded her. "You weren't meant to stay at StarCourt Mall forever, and I wouldn't want you too. You have a bright future ahead of you. I know it's scary, but it's all gonna work out. One way or another."
They were the same words that Jen had said to you before you embarked on your big adventure to Hawkins, and you were happy to pass the sentiment along to Jane.
"What about you?" she asked after a minute. "Your future? Are you afraid?"
That was the question, wasn't it? A new adventure, maybe in a more familiar setting but...a new challenge nonetheless. But you looked over at Eddie, who had both Dustin and Gareth in headlocks; his head was thrown back in obnoxious laughter and he gave you a shrug that said "how could I help myself" when he noticed you looking at him.
He was an idiot. But he was your idiot. And he'd be by your side for this next adventure, just like he promised he would be.
"No," you told her honestly. "I'm not afraid at all."
---
September 1990
"Alright, here's a question?"
"Shoot."
"When…is our anniversary?"
"Uhh...Ed..." You let the question hang awkwardly in the air, unasked, but Eddie could read your mind.
The two of you were symbiotic at this point; still, he was happy that you had no idea what he had in mind for the day.
"No hear me out," he took a few steps ahead and turned to walk backwards so he could look at you. "Because I really put some thought into it. If we're going by first dates, it's in January—”
“Like it has been for the past 4 years.”
“—but, if we're going by first kiss..."
"If we're going by first kiss, that was last week," you laughed and rolled your eyes. "So you’re late."
“Yeah,” he agreed wickedly wistfully. “I guess I am.”
Of course you remembered.
The two of you were walking. Exploring, actually, around the cemetery where your Papa enjoyed his eternal rest.
5 years and it was a lot easier now.
You still cried sometimes but the initial guilt was gone and you found enjoyment in spending the day traversing about the sprawling cemetery grounds, visiting this great uncle and that distant cousin, just like you did with Papa when he was still alive.
“Did he make sure he bought flowers for everyone he ever met?” Eddie had asked as you piled bunches and bunches of flowers into his arms at the florist that first visit after Papa passed, when you told Eddie of the tradition. “Aren’t they just gonna die?”
“This is why I don’t like flowers,” you explained. “They die. At least when they die here, the dead can still enjoy them.”
“Well shit, that’s a pretty metal thought baby,” he cooed softly and shuffled the bunches to hold them with some more care. “Can I put that in a song? I’ll dedicate it to you.”
He had and you’d cried when he first sang you the haunting ballad in the privacy of your living room.
Today, though…well you’d already made the rounds today. Only one stop left; the most important stop. Eddie had suggested taking the long way through the mausoleum—down hallways lined with plush red carpet and dated sofas and marble walls filled with the dead—partially for his own curiosity, and partially so he could build up the courage.
You were doing quite a good job distracting him from his nerves as you conversed easily—whatever thoughts popped up in either of your heads—and explained the differences between this Saint and that one as you passed their statues and depictions in stained glass. They all looked at him with serene eyes and he thought that meant this journey would be a successful one.
There would be no crying, if he could help it.
Maybe tears of joy? He could settle for that.
“So what has you thinking of anniversaries?” you finally asked as you sat on the tufted velvet ottoman in front of your grandparents' epitaph.
Eddie shrugged and looked around, absorbing the names and dates inscribed on the marble walls that surrounded him.
“Been a lot of milestones lately. It’s been a couple years since graduation, 5 years since your grandpa passed…” He trailed off for a moment. “Been a year since we moved…since we’ve both been at new stores.”
You gasped and he felt his heart stop in his chest.
“Is…are you thinking of quitting?” You asked with big eyes.
“What?”
“That new Hot Topical store they’re opening? Or whatever it's called? I saw you chatting with that District Manager in the food court the other day. Are you leaving TapeWorld? Eddie, that’s so exciting. You should…”
“No I’m not quitting,” he announced with finality, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“…nevermind then. Then what’s going on? You thinking of breaking up with me or something?”
“No.”
“Well I know you’re not proposing; you literally just wrote a song called Marriage is a Death Sentence.”
Your laughter echoed through the mausoleum but you stopped abruptly when Eddie didn’t join you.
He watched your expression change as you processed the thought. And when you looked back at him again he smiled nervously.
“Eddie…” you said hoarsely and then cleared your throat. “Eddie, you just wrote a song called Marriage is a Death Sentence.”
“About my parents,” he explained. “And how they did everything wrong.”
“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “A lot of people get it wrong. Marriage is a Death Sentence. Those are literally the lyrics. You’ve been singing it when you wash the dishes.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s catchy.”
“It is, isn’t it? But...while I was working on it...it got me thinking that…I mean…just because they got it wrong, and a lot of other people do, doesn’t mean we will.”
You said his name almost desperately now.
"A-and," he continued. "W-we don't have to get married but...I don't know. Spending the rest of my life with you sounds pretty great."
He pulled one hand out of his pocket casually and with it came a small ring box. He shook it a few times and held it out to you.
There were a bevy of emotions cycling your face, all of them undecipherable, until you settled on shock.
Good shock...hopefully.
“You’re supposed to get down on one knee I think,” you whispered again.
Yeah...good shock.
He let out a sigh of relief.
“Yeah but what if it isn’t a ring? What if this is all just a red herring? What if I had to get one of my teeth pulled and it's in here?”
You let out a shocked laugh and your brows hitched together in question.
"Did you put a tooth in there?"
"I don't know...seems as likely as any other potential surprise."
“Is it another cootie catcher?” you guessed.
“Only one way to find out.”
He shook the box again.
You slowly took it from him, fingers deliberately brushing against his which caused his heart to race.
He felt lightheaded when you opened the lid.
You smiled so brightly, he swore you rivaled the sun.
“Oh…Eddie…”
---
December 1992
"So what'd you do?"
"What makes you think I did something?"
"I love you son," Wayne sighed and leant against the counter. "But you always do something."
It was Christmas. The worst time of year for both you and Eddie. Long shifts, angry customers, restless coworkers...but a standing promise to make it back to Hawkins for the holiday had been the light at the end of the tunnel. Especially since Wayne and Rick had come out to see you for the past few years.
It was tough but you and Eddie made it work; hit the road right after your Christmas Eve shifts had ended, fallen into bed as soon as you'd arrived at Rick's close to midnight.
And you didn't need to be back to work until the 27th.
It was a perfect little getaway.
Except it hadn't been perfect.
Because you hadn't been talking to each other past the standard "good mornings" and "see you tonights" all week. The drive had been made in silence. And you chose to sit as far as you could from him during Christmas dinner, opting to sit beside Wayne and chat all night, instead of right next to him like you always did.
And unfortunately, yeah...it'd been Eddie's fault.
Eddie knew that, and usually he could admit it easily. Fights between the two of you were few and far between, and you had a good track record for recovering from them. For some reason though, this time was different, and it was hard for him to admit how badly he'd fucked up.
Wayne could see right through the two of you, though. Especially through his nephew. No matter how good you thought you were at hiding it.
"There was this...big opportunity we could have had," Eddie began his explanation calmly. "But it wasn't a sure thing."
"Oh yeah?" Wayne hummed. "How big?"
"Big. Like...a once-in-a-lifetime thing. An underground show a buddy of mine heard about it through the grapevine. Said they were looking for an opening act. Wanted to throw me a bone." He hit the counter with his fist gently. "But...he got his wires crossed. Told me it was tonight. So it meant we'd need to miss Christmas. But it's really next week."
"Hmmm..." Wayne nodded sagely and kept listening.
Eddie suddenly felt uncomfortable at the tone though, and became desperate for his uncle to understand.
Understand that he hadn't meant to hurt you.
"Work's been hard this season Wayne," Eddie continued with an edge to his voice. "Made me realize that I don't wanna do this forever. I wanna make music. You know that. It's been my dream forever."
"I know it has."
"Me and the guys. Our dream."
"What'd you say to her?" Wayne asked suddenly, as he lifted the mug of eggnog to his lips.
His knowing gaze made Eddie fidget and harsh words echo through his memory.
"Why can't you understand? This is huge for us. How can we say no?"
"I didn't say you had to pass it up, I just said it was a shame that we'll miss Christmas."
"You don't have to miss Christmas, you can just go to your aunt's if you don't want to go to the show."
"You know what I mean. You know Wayne and Rick look forward to seeing--"
"Wayne and Rick would understand how big this is. Why can't you? Why the fuck do you care anyways? It's not like they're your family!"
Wayne swallowed a mouthful of eggnog and then his lips pressed together tightly with a long exhale. Eddie turned to watch you and Rick chatter while you organized the gifts into neat little piles; even though you were avoiding each other, seeing your smile made him feel a lot better than his uncle's intense stare.
"I fucked up," he croaked. "I know."
"How're you gonna fix it?" Wayne asked.
"That I don't know."
Wayne sighed and clapped a hand on Eddie's shoulder.
"I would suggest," he leant in close and his voice rumbled, the same way it always did when Eddie would get in trouble growing up. The few times Wayne needed to intervene at all. "I would suggest you start with I'm sorry."
---
Eddie stared up at the glow in the dark stars that were stuck to the ceiling of the old guest bedroom that used to be his designated room at Rick's once upon a time.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
He couldn't sleep.
He might have spent most of his life in Hawkins but a few years in and around Chicago and he'd gotten used to the sounds of traffic and trains and people walking around late at night.
And it might've been easier if you were closer to him than you were, if the sounds of your sleep-deepened breathing and the soft snores you always denied were in his ear. Instead you were lying on your side at the edge of the full bed, as far from him as you could get, equally as awake as he was if your near-silent breaths were any indicator.
He turned his head and watched you for a moment before he took a breath of courage.
"Sweetheart," he whispered. When there was no response, he said your name, a little louder this time. "You awake?"
There was silence...heavy silence...and then you responded.
"Mmmhmm." You shifted to look halfway over your shoulder at him. "It's too quiet."
"I was just thinking that."
"Hmmm."
"I've got...a lot on my mind too."
"Yeah?" you turned fully now, lying on your back just like him; your shoulders touched but you refused to look at him. "What about?"
"I was thinking..."
What was he thinking? A lot of things. How to start an apology, how to fix this. How to make tomorrow better so your Christmas wasn't ruined.
"...that at least when we fight fight, we still talk to each other afterwards."
You scoffed and he closed his eyes, cursing himself and his big mouth.
"That...wasn't the right thing to say."
"No it wasn't," you sassed him immediately.
"It wasn't what I wanted to say either," he quickly added. "I wanted to say...that I'm sorry."
"I know."
"You do?"
"Aside from the fact that I know you too well," you began. "Rick was trying to get me to forgive you all night."
"Why did he think I did something?" Eddie asked incredulously.
"Because you always do something."
"God damn it, did Rick say that? Wayne said the same thing."
The two of you laughed together for the first time in days, and as you settled down, Eddie reached over and took your hand in his. He threaded your fingers together and rubbed his thumb back and forth to soothe you.
"I'm sorry that I...that I was a thick-headed, stubborn, big-mouthed idiot who hurt your feelings," he apologized. "I know that we've both been under pressure but there's no excuse. I could've been more level-headed, but I wasn't and I hurt you."
"Yeah well," you squeezed his hand tightly as you responded, "I guess I'm not innocent here either. I could have...been more excited for you, supportive. Instead of trying to make it about Christmas. I was thinking about how desperate I was to get away from work, excited to be back here. And it's no excuse. I'm sorry too."
"Yeah but I told you Wayne and Rick weren't your family."
"Well I told you--"
"Are we gonna fight again?" Eddie stopped you before you could get ahead of yourself. You huffed a soft "no" and melted into the bed, all tension in your body gone. "Did you like your Christmas gift?"
"Jesus." He could hear you rolling your eyes.
"Well did you?"
"Duh," you deadpanned. "Did you like yours?"
"Uh, duh," he parroted, a little more exaggeratedly. "You didn't give me a kiss though."
"Well you didn't give me a kiss either," you retorted, but you were already rolling over so you could close the distance and seal your lips against his.
The two of you showered one another with more whispered apologies and words of devotion before you got ahead of yourselves.
Clothes were shed, soft caresses shared, and lips lavished over the most sensitive parts of you.
You still liked it when you dragged your teeth along the shaft of his cock a little and got him to beg, and then Eddie returned the favor when he sucked a bruising hickey to your nipple that made you squeal and call him a god.
The two of you had lived on your own for so long that it was good fun trying to keep your voices down, or make sure the bed didn't slide across the hardwood floors with your passionate fucking.
And all slights were soothed when you reached the height of pleasure together, and whispered sweet words of affection and forgiveness as you descended back to earth.
Come morning, Wayne obnoxiously asked when the two of you were planning to hit the road back to Chicago.
"It's been a good while since I lost sleep thanks to your spirited activities," he noted, embarrassing the two of you in front of Rick. "No more fighting when you come back to visit in the future alright? I miss you dearly, but I can't say I miss that at all.”
---
April 1993
"It took you guys long enough," Dustin announced as he threw open the door.
“You know what, you try sitting in a rusty old shitbox with a bunch of musicians that still act like they're teenagers for 10 hours," you deadpanned and then pushed past the guys as they protested to pull Dustin into a hug. "Happy housewarming, congratulations."
It was Spring Break.
Well for the kids it was--although, they weren't really kids anymore were they--but for you and the guys, it was more like a long weekend. You'd scheduled yourself off for a few days, Eddie'd requested the whole week off, Jeff and Dave had traded shifts with coworkers, and Gareth simply quit his job.
"I'll find a new one," he reassured everyone, including his girlfriend, on St. Patrick's Day when he announced his departure before he and the guys had gotten on stage to play for a crowded pub in the suburbs.
It had been a headache and a half to get everything in order and everyone in the right place at the right time, but you were all here for one thing and one thing only.
Dustin's first apartment.
A Hellfire Club Reunion.
And a special one-shot that Dustin and Eddie had spent hours on the phone planning for the past few months.
Months.
You didn't think you'd been invited at first, but when Dustin told Eddie the full guest list, Eddie volunteered your attendance immediately.
Your forays into Dungeons and Dragons were few and far between; never a big campaign, only the one-shots that Eddie had put together here and there for the guys or a few coworkers who were interested. And this would be the first time that you played with such a big group. Or such an experienced group.
You were nervous.
"You'll do great," Eddie reassured you as he plucked snack cakes and sodas off the gas station shelves for snacks on the road. "I know the roleplaying is not your strongest suit, but it's just Henderson and the gang."
Now you were here and your nerves melted as you slipped further into mother hen mode the longer you looked around at what was obviously the apartment of college students. It was a familiar sight; you, Eddie, and the guys had all crammed into a duplex when you'd moved to Chicago and you'd had your fair share of pizza boxes stacked in the corners before garbage day and underwear of questionable origin and cleanliness tucked into the cracks of the sofa.
But that was a time long since passed and seeing it now made your fingers itch.
And your ears ring.
"...be here soon and I figured that you'd be here first to help me set u--Mom you ok?" Dustin stopped his chattering when he noticed you were frozen in the door of the living room. He glanced around the space that would soon host all of his friends. "Oh...yeah I should probably clean up a little more. To be fair, most of this isn't my mess."
You felt your eye twitch at his dismissive laugh.
"Jesus Henderson, didn't you just move in January?" Jeff asked when he saw the sorry state.
The boys all started giving Dustin shit, and Eddie had the foresight to put a hand on your shoulder and steer you back towards the door.
"We're gonna go take a quick smoke break; why don't you four nerds try to get this place looking a little more Hellfire appropriate in the mean time, m'kay?" he ordered them with faux sincerity. "We brought those props you asked for Dustin."
You heard the faint, sorry Mom, come from the boys as Eddie got you outside.
---
Eddie was extremely attentive and was quick to take charge of the ragtag group, running back and forth between the little stoop where you'd essentially set up camp right outside of the building, and back up to Dustin's apartment to make sure the cleaning and setup were underway.
"Hey listen, you boss enough people around at work," he reassured you when you insisted that you'd be alright to go back in. "You don't need to do it on your day off too."
You proved to be useful enough as the other started to arrive, little by little.
Max and Lucas had flown in from California and arrived via cab.
"It kind of sucks when the place you live is the place everyone else goes on vacation," Lucas laughed good-naturedly.
His younger sister Erica, who you remember from her days of buying scrunchies and glitter makeup, was now grown up and toted an entire kit filled with binders and notebooks and dice.
"It's my first ever Spring Break," she sniffed. "I could have been in Miami with my friends. But...I wouldn't miss this for the world, so it better be worth it."
Mike and Will drove up in the Wheeler's old station wagon, their siblings in tow in the backseat; Nancy and Jonathan had apparently been broken up for some time now.
It apparently had been an awkward drive for all of them.
Jane unexpectedly arrived with a new love interest friend and was beyond ecstatic to see you, barely letting you get a question in as she told you about everything she'd been up to.
Robin was unfortunately absent, but sent her regards along with the last person to arrive. Someone who you honestly didn't expect to see at all, but who had pulled up in a shiny new car, sporting a wedding band and a mustache: Steve Harrington.
"Look what the cat dragged in," you greeted with a smile. You pointed at the wedding band. "Seems like you don't need my relationship advice anymore."
"Same relationship," he chuckled and shrugged, suddenly bashful.
"No shit," you laughed. "Congratulations."
"Congrats to you too," he pointed to the ring on your own finger but you waved him off dismissively.
"Marriage is a Death Sentence. This is just...symbolic more than anything. We both know we're not going anywhere."
"Get more of a deduction on your tax return if you guys do tie the knot."
"Alright Ned Flanders," you rolled your eyes. "Taxes are a death sentence too. I'll ask Ed to write that song and dedicate it to you."
"By all means, I'm actually an accountant now. Maybe it'll get me some more clients."
You cackled.
You and Steve made some casual chit chat as you walked up to join the others now that everyone had arrived.
The apartment looked worlds different, especially with the abundance of candles that surrounded the table you all crowded around.
Dustin was taking the lead with this one, his DM screens in ominous abundance as he sat at the head of the table and filed through stacks of papers.
You looked around at all of your friends...really all of Eddie's friends who had become your friends, your family. It was nice to see them all in one place again.
Then you looked at Eddie himself, who looked right at home surrounded by them all. Laughing and spieling and picking on them with bright, glowing fondness that radiated off of him. You didn't think you could feel any more love for him, but suddenly in that moment, your cup overflowed.
He deserved this; deserved all of this...all of the love you all had to give and share with him because he loved you all so hard in return.
You took your seat beside him and grinned and patted your knee encouragingly.
"Perfect timing, sweetheart," he announced. "Hope you're ready to get absolutely obliterated."
Dustin hit a button on the stereo he'd set up beside him and everyone started to cheer as music and sounds created the ambiance of the adventure you were about to embark on.
"Welcome friends as we revisit a grand adventure of old tonight," Dustin began. "As we venture deep into Greyhawk and come face to face a great evil once defeated. Timelines have shifted, and what you might remember from the past is no longer what it seems; it will take great courage and strength to overcome challenges that you'd previously faced with ease. Are you up for the challenge?"
Everyone cheered again."
"Good," he said with a guttural groan, eyes rolling back in his head dramatically. "Then let us begin on our quest to face...The Cult of Vecna."
---
May 1995
It was like deja vu.
Maybe because he'd done this a thousand times, just not recently. It'd been years since he'd worked at the Mall, after all, and the muscle memory might have been a little out of practice, but it was still there.
He ran up the stalled escalator, long legs skipping every other step, until he reached the top, out of breath.
"Fuck," he bent over with his hands on his knees, panting. "Fuck. This is why I gotta quit smoking."
He'd taken the day off to surprise you; he and the guys were supposed to be recording today--their first album; it'd taken long enough--but this was bigger and he wanted to be there for you.
Needed to be there.
It wasn't every day that his best friend and beloved--the love of his life--his dear Store Manager...wasn't going to be a Store Manager anymore.
You'd both broken the news to each other on the same day. For weeks you'd only mentioned small developments in passing, never letting your hopes get too high just in case of a let down.
"We're getting signed," he announced as you'd collided into one another outside of your apartment building. "It's happening we're getting signed and we're gonna make a whole fucking album sweetheart!"
"Oh my god!" you shrieked. "Holy shit Ed!"
"No more weird touring schedules for fests, no more begging to get a song on the radio during the 3am broadcast, it's happening!" He cupped your cheeks and peppered kisses around your face.
"It's happening for me too," you laughed and tried to shake him away. "I got the job."
"What?!" he squished your cheeks harder until you jabbed him lightly in the stomach to get him to let you go.
"I got the job," you laughed, head tilted back as you announced it to the world. "Eddie, baby...you're looking at the new associate manager of Visual Development."
You'd spent the night indulging on a deep dish pizza, fucking making love, and talking about the future.
Maybe you could buy a house...maybe you could get a puppy...take an actual vacation someplace and not just a weekend trip to the Dells or wherever Corroded could find a gig...the possibilities were endless...
But from that moment on, it was a whirlwind.
The band had gotten started right away, signing contracts and working with the small label that had seen their potential and believed in them.
And now, a few weeks later, it was here. Your big day. Your last day as a Store Manager at Claire's, before you went off to their home offices to tell people what color scrunchie was gonna be big for the season.
There were a bunch of purple and pink balloons tied to the sandwich board outside of your store, and as Eddie got closer, he could hear snippets of conversation as your associates asked you about your new position.
"Have you seen your office yet?"
"Yeah, I have," you laughed.
"Is the desk pink?"
"No but the walls are."
"Do you get your own cell phone?"
"Probably not. I'm not the CEO guys. I'm just a manager."
"Are you gonna have to wear business suits?"
"No," Eddie answered for you as he quickly snuck up behind you. You jumped as his arms wrapped around your waist, but you quickly melted into the embrace. "But she's not gonna have to wear clothes from Seventeen Magazine anymore either."
"Yeah," you sighed. "It really sucks to wear clothes from the juniors department once you're past 30. They're just not made the same way."
"Gotta take your word for it sweetheart, I'm not 30 for another few months," he blew a raspberry against the side of your neck and squeezed you tightly in his embrace.
Your associates all sighed dreamily at the sight of the two of you canoodling—power couple who?—and Eddie was thankful for this once-in-a-lifetime chance that you wouldn't just swat him away for PDA while you were on the salesfloor.
"I'm sorry this is coming from the man who still dresses the same as he did when he was 17," you laughed and reached back to pluck at his battle vest that had only accumulated more pins and patches over the years.
"I'm very sorry that I'm not trendy, sweetheart." He kissed your cheek. "But I'm what you would call timeless."
"I'd like a divorce." You pulled his left hand away from your torso so you could attempt to pull the band off his ring finger. "Effective immediately."
"We're not married," he murmured teasingly in your ear. "Or did you forget?"
"You finally gonna seal the deal Munson?" you whispered back. "It's only been 10 years."
"Just so you can file for divorce? I don't think so."
"What if I trade you my longevity pin? I think it would look nice on your vest."
"How about...I take you to lunch first?" he asked, voice back to its normal volume. "And we negotiate the terms and conditions? She's got her big corporate lady pants on, trying to get me to sign a contract."
"I guess I could pencil you in," you feigned annoyance and then looked to your assistant manager. "Let me ask my secretary."
Both you and Eddie stared at them expectantly.
"Get out of here," they laughed at your antics. "Before I kick you out; so sweet, you guys make me gag sometimes."
---
The rest of your final shift was eventful, and Eddie sat in the chair of the Ear Piercing station while you chatted with your regular customers and received one visitor after another.
Old employees and coworkers, your mom who made you take a picture with the whole team, and then a very cheesy one with Eddie who dipped you for a kiss at the very last second.
Jen had come around close to 5 to bring even more balloons and a cake, and had made jokes that she was gonna have to haunt the corporate offices even more now.
"So we can talk shit, obviously," she joked.
Eddie had called Kyle up, who was now managing a store in Milwaukee, to tell him both bits of good news and Kyle had made the drive down to bring a sentimental gift to both of you on your last day.
A picture frame with a collage of polaroids from your years at StarCourt. There was a filmstrip from one of the photo-booths that depicted a younger you and Eddie, making funny faces and staring longingly at one another.
"You left this in the stock room once upon a time," he told Eddie as he pointed it out specifically. "That was before you were dating too. I squirreled it away and forgot about it but was gonna keep it in case you never got the courage to ask her out. And look at the two of you now."
"Yeah, Eddie watched you as you caressed the glass. "Look at us now."
"I still think I should have won the bet," Kyle sniffed bitterly.
You had scheduled yourself to close, and you were expertly restocking the scrunchie wall as the last few customers shopped.
Eddie kept snaking his arms around you and switching this scrunchie here for that one there, and you'd whine and complain about him messing up the color flow. Still, you never made any effort to stop him, and each time you stomped your foot petulantly, he would drop a smooch right on your cheek to "earn" your forgiveness.
"You know, this is what I was doing when we first met," you recalled after a few kisses. "Officially met."
"What?" Eddie asked.
"Restocking scrunchies."
"You sure?" he frowned and tried to think back. He vaguely recalled...bracelets of some sort...or had he just been looking at the jewelry. He'd been so nervous to ask you out back then...it was all a blur.
And he hadn't really even asked you out at that time either. Jesus Christ, what a loser he'd been.
Where would the two of you be now if only he hadn't fumbled on that first not-date? Right where you were now? Maybe broken up? A lot of the growing the two of you had done had been done with the soft buffer of friendship first...it almost caused his heart to ache to think that they might have caused an end to a relationship if things had been different.
Because now he couldn't imagine what his life would be like without you.
"You still haven't let me pierce your ears," you leaned in close to him, nose brushing against his, and teased him.
Eddie froze and then backed away.
"Well," he licked over his bottom lip pensively. "It is your last day...the last hour of your shift too...I think I could be persuaded."
You squealed and ran to get the forms ready. You didn't even let him fill them out, you just pushed him back into the seat he'd been occupying all day as you got it all ready.
"No more being afraid of needles babe," you cackled, the kind of cackle he'd only ever heard when you were being especially devious or evil.
"I have tattoos," he argued, trying to stand from the chair in protest, but you pressed your hand to his chest to get him to sit back down. "I have a ton of tattoos; if I was afraid of needles I wouldn't. Your logic is flawed."
"Yeah ok Spock," you dismissed his reasoning. "This one takes a chunk out of you though, so it's different."
"What argument are you trying to win here baby? Are you trying to get me to get my ears pierced or are you trying to get me to admit I'm afraid."
"Dealers Choice."
"You're lucky I love you," he grumbled.
You were silent for a while as you marked his ears, as you snapped on your gloves, and readied the piercing gun.
Was he afraid? No. He trusted you. But damn if the anticipation wasn't making him sweat a little.
Eddie closed his eyes as he prepared himself for the next step, but you paused and made one quick run across the store before returning.
"Alright I have one last important question to ask you," you began, and he peeped an eye open to see you standing there with your hands behind your back. "It's the age old question and I don't think we ever got a solid answer."
You revealed your plunder and then stared at him expectantly.
"Take your pick: broken hearts or gummy bears."
Eddie went soft as he stared at the two sets of studs backed by purple carding: little black broken hearts and the neon green gummy bears.
It was the age old question wasn't it? The first question he asked you before he even asked you out.
"See, if it was still 1985," he tilted his head back and forth, "I think this would be a hard one to figure out."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. But uh," he reached out and pointed to his choice. "Now it's a no brainer."
"Seriously?" you laughed.
"Seriously."
"And why are you, Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, the most metal band on Earth, picking the Gummy Bears?"
"Sweetheart," he singsonged, pausing for dramatic effect. "I think you know."
"I don't think I do," you parroted.
"Ugh," he scoffed and turned his head. "I guess I am the more romantic of the two of us."
"Answer the question, Cassanova."
"Sweetheart," he turned back to you, hand over his heart. "It has to be the gummy bears."
"Has to be?"
"Must be."
"Because..."
"Because I can confidently say that my heart is never gonna be broken if I have you around."
Your challenging gaze softened and Eddie swore that he saw tears at the corners of your eyes. For a moment he didn't know if you were gonna kiss him or start crying.
"Shut the fuck up," your associate shouted from across the store, ruining the sweet moment. "That was so adorable. Oh my god."
"Language Chels!" you scolded her good-naturedly.
And then, in those last few minutes of your career as a store manager, you kissed Eddie softly on his forehead...on his lips...and then punched holes right through both of his earlobes in rapid succession.
"Fuck!" He screamed. "Fuck!"
"I love you," you chuckled at him.
"Yeah. Love you too..." he grimaced. "Fuck! I love you."
---
Thank you for reading The Store Manager Verse.
222 notes · View notes
hancoxinc · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
Customer Support Chat Job: $25/hr
This is a job application, open for applicants from all countries, for online customer support workers doing live chat support. This means you will be handling the live chat messages for a business on their website and social media accounts. Full training is provided and we have jobs available to start work on right away. You are able to set your own hours as long as you work a minimum of 10 hours a week. Read more details here…
Click Here To Learn More!
1 note · View note
inky-duchess · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Asks for a Royal WIP or a Royal AU.
What rank is your OC?
How are they addressed?
Do they always expect to be addressed formally at all times? Are they comfortable with it?
Where do they stand in the succession? How do they feel about this?
What sort of succession system is it? Agnatic? Primogeniture? Gender-biased?
What sort of monarchy does your OC belong to? Do they like this style?
What's your OC's opinion on Monarchy? Do they believe in it? Are they for or against? Reasons why?
How did the dynasty come to be?
What is the dynasty known for? Are they bloody like the Tudors? Are they fabulously wealthy like the Romanovs? Are they... A loving family like the Hapsburgs? *opening twangs of Sweet Home Alabama*
Is the dynasty old? Or new? How does this effect how they operate?
Are they traditionalists or modernise?
What do the people think of the royal family? Are they headed toward Monseiur Guillotine? Or treasured?
Is there a famous ancestor they look up to? One they would rather not speak about?
Are there any pretenders to the Crown? If so, who are they and why do they believe they have a right to the throne?
What are some monuments built by the dynasty?
What are some duties your OC is expected to perform? Military service? The bestowing of honours? Attending the monarch at large events?
Does your OC dislike living in the public eye? Or do they believe it's part of the job?
Where does your OC live?
How many palaces, castles and homes does your OC call home?
Has your OC ever been on a tour of their country? What's their favourite region?
How does your OC view politics? Are they a reformer or do they prefer to hide from change?
Your OC has a day engagement. What do they wear?
Your OC has a state occasion. What do they wear?
Does your OC enjoy ceremonial ornaments such as orders, tiaras, uniforms and crowns? If not, why? If so, why?
Do they enjoy large public occasions? Do they enjoy the pomp and ceremony?
Somebody has neglected to bow/curtsy in an effort to insult. What does your OC do in response?
They encounter somebody who doesn't recognise them but they are friendly. Does your OC a) immediately inform them b) leave them off and just have a nice chat c) other option.
Are they known for their fashion taste?
Does your OC do any charity work? What are some charities they support?
How does the press characterize your OC? Are they a darling or a devil?
Your OC has been the target of some bad press. What to they do to straighten out the story?
Has your OC ever escaped the palace for an adventure?
What are some famous pieces of jewellery owned by the royal family?
How does jewellery work in the family? Who can wear what pieces? Who decides this?
Do they have servants? Is your OC liked by the servants? If not, why?
Are they close to anybody who isn't royal? A servant? A companion?
Does your OC ever hate being born royal?
Are there any restrictions on them because they are royal? Can they marry as they like? Live how they want? Is there anything they are utterly barred from doing?
What are some expectations your OC must live up to? Can they fulfil them? If not, why not?
What are some ridiculous rules they must follow?
How rigid is royal life?
What privileges are they entitled to?
How does being royal effect how they act? Are they predisposed to snobbery? Or do they believe themselves above others?
Have they ever had a scandal? If so, details.
What is your OC known for? Their hardwork? Their duty? Their wild social life?
If your OC ever had to choose between what's best for the Crown or themselves, what would they choose?
If they are ever offered the chance of power, would they oust the monarch?
If the monarch was in danger of running the country into the ground, would your OC rebel against them?
There's a revolution and everyone wants the royals dead. What does your OC do? A) Join the Revolution B) RUN C) Stay and keeping living the high life (god that mob is getting close) D) Betray their family and give them to the mob to save themselves.
Your OC has been invited to a large party on the eve of a very bad disaster which has killed and wounded many. Do they attend the party? Or head to the site to help or at very least show they care?
I will accept asks for Misha, Olezka, Katya, Sergei.
357 notes · View notes