#maybe that’s why he can survive drinking so much coffee

[adoptable-fanfic-prompts]

DC writing prompt

So the Drakes like collecting ancient artifacts, especially those they probably shouldn’t take. One such item is a space pod… that had a baby inside of it.

When they next returned to Gotham, they proclaimed that they gave birth abroad to little “Timothy Drake” (‘a cryptic pregnancy, if you can believe’ they explained). They initially stayed in Gotham with their latest ‘discovery’ and almost saw him as a son.

Unfortunately, the baby started showing abilities reminiscent to the superhero in Metropolis and they put two and two together that they must be the same alien species. They decide that before their ‘son’ can get any more abilities (including the indestructible skin the species was known for), that he needed an ‘appendectomy’ that gave them the perfect excuse to slip some kryptonite right by his spleen. He became a more sickly child after that but that wasn’t any concern of theirs. They started going on trips again but still made plenty of time to take care of Tim.

That stopped when they heard about how Lex Luther developed a rare form of cancer due to extensive exposure to kryptonite.

Since they couldn’t get rid of Tim (too many know of him at this point), they decided to spend most of their time abroad, only stopping at home to drop something off. And they couldn’t risk any one else developing cancer, especially one that was linked to kryptonite exposure, so Tim was left to his own devices (with the exclusion of Ms. Mac visiting once or twice a week).

Tim eventually became Robin. Rest of canon happens. Things change when he’s about to lose his spleen.

Ra’s has his men go in to extract the spleen when they find the kryptonite. Forming his own theory, he decides to have it removed and simply have Tim get sun exposure. It works and Tim doesn’t have to lose his spleen.

Takes a bit but Tim does start developing a few kryptonian abilities (but can’t develop all of them, due to the extensive damage done by the kryptonite. But he as a plus, he developed somewhat of an immunity to kryptonite so he doesn’t collapse when exposed to it, unlike other kryptonians).

Thoughts?

[joels-shitty-puns]

I'm gonna make a request again (sorry your last one was too good for me not to ask again) but this time for a jealous Joel! Maybe the reader and him have been friends for a while and she's oblivious to his flirting and she finally lands a date? How it goes from there can be up to you! I just love the jealous and possessive trope.

The Jealousy Bug

Pairing: Jealous!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Hi!! I'm so sorry this took me so long to write, but thank you for the request!! I hope you like it!! I got a lil carried away... hope its not too much smut.

~~~~~

(Reader and Joel live in Jackson, amid the apocalypse)

Word count: 6.8K (oof)

Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI!! Smut smut smut. P in V sex (likely unprotected but not specified. Its an apocalypse, yo.), masturbation (m and f), sort of dubcon? voyeurism?? sorta?, kissing, talk of genitals and arousal, horny behavior. Explicit language and mean names. Alcohol. Violence: infected, guns, punching, mention of a knife. Joel is kind of a jerk sometimes. Possessive. Mentions of loss and grief (all within S.1 of TLOU). I haven't played part II yet so we're just gonna ignore what we know happens there. Joel and Ellie are happy in Jackson. Joel and Reader are friends and sort of neighbors. Clueless idiots in love. A total asshole of a guy in the town. Lil bit of fluff/romance? Mention of bugs (pill bugs), but not in a gross way. If I missed anything, please let me know, and I apologize!

Other Stuff: Avoidance of reader descriptors, other than reader is AFAB. Mentions of having hair on the noggin. She/her pronouns. Reader is clueless and also clumsy as hell. Reader also drinks coffee and alcohol. Italics indicate thoughts.

__________

It was around 4PM when you filed into the community center for another mandatory patrol meeting. It may be an apocalypse, but even now, you wished this meeting could have been an email instead. Alas, that was a thing of the past, and you were unfortunately stuck listening to the usual spiel about necessary vs. unnecessary items to raid… The importance of remembering to ABC, “Always Be Cautious,” plants that can and can't be eaten, etc.

You sat in your usual spot, the back row next to Joel Miller. A year ago when you first moved to this town, first started patrol, you came into this very room not knowing anyone. Friend groups stuck together, each of the two front rows filled, yet a few empty spaces here and there. Instead, you walked towards the back of the room. A handsome man, who you soon learned was named Joel, sat by himself, three rows back, behind the last full aisle. He was alone. The whole aisle of chairs was empty. He sat with his arms crossed, and you could tell based on his posing that he was not the social type. 

You were feeling a bit nervous, having finally found a sort of civilization in this mess, and hoping the people of Jackson accept you and not just shoot you, like most camps do when they see unknown faces. Unsure where to sit, you continued to head towards the back, slightly drawn to the gorgeous gray-haired man in the last row. Not wanting to intrude, you sat at the far end from Joel. You could feel his eyes on you as you sat, but you didn't dare look over and make eye contact. Years of survival instincts have told you that, especially when someone doesn't want to be bothered.

_____

When you first walked into the room, Joel looked up. He sat in the back row, as usual, not wanting to get close to anyone. However, even if he did, nobody gave him the time of day. They have heard stories of what he’s done, they have seen him around town, often grumbling about something. They could tell he wanted to be left alone and they had no interest in testing how badly he wanted to be left alone.

Joel found it easier to not form connections. Tommy kept telling him to make friends, come around more, socialize in the town. But Joel had learned over the years why making connections never ends well. All he has is Tommy and Ellie, and neither of those were his initial decision, but Tommy is his only family, and somehow he let himself care for Ellie.

But when Joel saw you… there was a flash of longing. He saw you smile gently at Tommy with a small wave. He could see you shrink walking to your seat past the cliques. You were beautiful, and if it were pre-pandemic, you'd be the exact type he'd probably take interest to.

But those days are over.

Or… so he thought.

He set his eyes back down on his hands in his lap, avoiding eye contact with you when you sat down at the end of the row from him.

Why did she sit so far away? Am I that horrible to be around? His heart questioned.

You don't want to be near people anyway. Good she sat far away. Leave me alone. His brain tried to argue.

Tommy droned on and on, the meeting nearing an hour by now, and you could feel Joel’s eyes on the side of your face every few minutes. You don't know why he kept staring, but it made you feel nervous. Did you have something on your face or clothes? Did you smell bad?

Tommy knew his brother well, sometimes more than Joel likes to admit out loud, and as he talked, he took note of Joel’s staring. At first his expression looked confused, maybe irritated or disgusted. Then it looked slightly… disappointed. But he kept stealing glances your direction, and so with a smirk, Tommy assigned the two of you to be on patrol together. Joel questioned his reasoning afterward, but he knew there was no point arguing with his brother.

After that day, you patrolled together. You both went to the bar with the group after meetings. You sat closer and closer to Joel. You managed to get some words out of him, and he listened to you chatter on. But it was when you brought him a cup of coffee before patrol one morning that he finally let down his guard. His heart had betrayed his defenses.

“What's this?” He asked, gruffly.

“Coffee, Joel…” you replied with a joking eye roll. “It's black. I know you don't like anything in it.”

He took a sip, shocked to taste that you actually knew how he took his coffee. “How did you know that?”

“I notice things Joel.” You patted his shoulder, walking towards the group.

_____

Now, a year later, the two of you were very close friends. You still surprised him with things you remembered or noticed, but much to his chagrin, the one thing you didn't pick up on were his advances. He'd call you pet names, be sweet to you, treat you like a gentleman, flirt a little, and it was like talking to a robot. You were clueless.

Tonight's meeting finally ended, the large group heading outside to the chill fall air. “You wanna get drinks with the patrol squad?” you asked Joel. 

“Wouldn't miss it,” he winked at you, putting his leather jacket on his shoulders.

Although you went as a group, ultimately you and Joel spent most of the nights in your own little bubble, occasionally making space in your circle for Tommy, or Maria if she joined.

Tonight, the two of you sat at the bar, the patrol group spread throughout the room at different tables. Joel excused himself to use the restroom, and while he was gone, Jimmy, one of the other patrol members approached you. Hurrying before Joel returned, he flirted and asked you out on a date. You told him you'd think about it, that you weren't sure if you were ready for a relationship after years of caution.

Not technically a lie, you thought. Although you really just weren't ready for a relationship because your heart was already taken by your handsome best friend. 

Joel returned just in time to see Jimmy walking away. “What did he want?” Joel grumbled. “Ah nothin, just wanted to say hi while getting a drink,” you lied. Joel accepted this answer and the two of you drank into the night. At the end of the evening, you seemed pretty drunk. Jimmy offered to walk you home, but before you had a chance to reply, Joel replied for you.

“I'll take her home, thanks.” He bit, turning you away from Jimmy. “I don't like the idea of that boy walkin’ you home. Don't trust ‘im. ‘Specially not when you're in this condition,” he wrapped an arm around you, shuffling you toward the door.

“You don't think I can handle myself, Joel?” You asked him, pulling away, a little bit irritated at him treating you like a weakling. “I seem to do just fine on patrol,” you argued.

“I know that, sugar. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't trust that guy. Heard how he goes through women. Don't want him trying’ anything with you,” he brushed his hand over your hair, causing you to soften at his words and actions.

You gasped lightly. “Is THE Joel Miller… jealous?” You knew he wasn't, but why not test the waters?

“What? Jealous? Of what? No ‘m not.” he balked. “Just lookin’ out for you…”

“Mmhm… you just wanna be the only big strong man walking me home, huh?” You teased, tripping over your own feet. 

Joel caught you in his arms. “Big strong man, huh? ‘S that what you think of me?” 

Shit… did I say that? You panicked. Maybe I'm more drunk than I thought…

Deciding to tease it off, you replied, “well you do always seem to catch me when I fall…” with a wink.

Falling in more ways than one… you thought, frustrated.

He rubbed his neck with the hand not holding you upright. You could almost see a pink tinge to his cheeks.

No, that has to be the lights playing tricks on my eyes… you thought. No way Joel Miller was blushing at your words.

“I kinda have to, ya big klutz. Practically a liability. I oughta tell Tommy to add a safety section on patrolling with you,” he bantered.

“Ah, shut up” you laughed with a push, causing yourself to lose balance instead of Joel. He just gave a knowing look, causing you both to laugh as you continued walking, now side by side instead of him holding you up.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke up. “You know, I could've walked myself home, Joel,” you stumbled, giggling.  

“Whoa there, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around you again, propping you up. “Don't worry about it. Let's just get you home. You've had way too much to drink.”

“You're so sweet Joel,” you pouted at him, booping his nose. “Joelly Joel.” You giggled. “Jolly Joelly.” Another giggle. “I dunno why people think you're so grumpy. I think you're just a big teddy bear,” you closed your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder while he stumbled forward, trying to keep you upright.

“Who says I'm grumpy, darlin’?” He tilted his head towards you, smirking. “The whole town, silly. Silly Joelly. Joely-poly.” You gasped abruptly, causing Joel to jerk and turn to face you. “What? What is it?” His hand reached for his knife on his hip. Old habits die hard.

“Joely-poly!!” You squealed. “Awe! Roly-polies. Remember those!? I used to love them when I was little.” You pouted. “Before this whole world went to shit.”

Joel thought back to the little pill bugs, playing in the dirt with them when he was younger. Teaching his own daughter about them. His heart aches for what he lost, but he also thinks of Ellie. He bets she would love the little bugs too.

“That's a cute nickname for you,” you smiled. “They're so cute. Just,” you booped his nose. “Like.” Boop. “You,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Another gasp from your lips.

He flinched again. “Darlin’, if you don't quit that I swear-”

“Joeeeel!” You pouted. “Do you think the roly-polies all died off with the infection!?” Your eyes welled up.

“Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. There's probably still some out there. Bugs could get cordyceps long before the fungus attacked humans, and they were still alive back then.” You looked up into his deep brown eyes through your fluttering lashes. “You really think so?” You leaned in, placing both your hands on his cheeks. His breath caught in his chest. “Darlin’, you drank a lot tonight-” you cut off his sentence, running your hands down his neck, resting your palms on his chest. His heart was beating a mile a minute. If he didn't know better, he'd worry his heart would leap out and fly away. 

Your eyes lit up and you slid off his chest, lowering clumsily to the ground and gripping his sides for balance. You were now on your knees, eye level with his crotch, hands on his hips. His breath was ragged and his stomach full of twirling butterflies. “Wh-what do you think you're doin’?” He asked nervously. You looked up at him with big eyes, your hands slowly falling down from his hips to his thighs as you tried to balance yourself in your drunken state. He couldn't help but feel his pants begin to tent at the position you were in. He would never take advantage of you in your current state, but trying to ignore the desire brewing in his body after so many months of unrequited feelings was challenging. Did you finally see his advances for what they were? Feelings instead of friendliness?

You grinned up at him, finally regaining balance. “I'm gonna go look for ‘em!” you turned and waddled away on your knees, heading a couple feet away, towards a patch of flowers off the path.

She just needed to use me as a ladder, or what…? Joel thought to himself with a sigh and shaking his head in disappointment, his sexual frustration at its breaking point.

You crawled forward, falling onto your hands and knees in the soft dirt. Joel quickly stepped forward to try and grab you but realized, despite your lack of grace, you meant to do that. “Ugh… darlin', it's dark out here. It's cold. You're drunk. Let's get you home.”

“I'm looking for buggies, Joel!!” You leaned towards a leaf, arching downward so that your face was closer to the ground, ass up. 

“Oh, have mercy…” Joel groaned under his breath, his eyes drifting downward. Your ass was up in the air, facing him, the fabric of your dress having fallen forward towards your front. Your light pink panties were on full display for Joel, leaving little to his imagination in this position. Joel subtly adjusted his pants, looking up to the sky and shaking his head in a silent plea. 

You whined. “Joel, I don't see any.” You leaned farther forward, wiggling your butt somehow higher. Joel looked around, panicked at the thought that someone else might see you in this position. But luckily, you were close to your house and it was just the two of you out here. He turned back to you again. “I think it's time you get up and we go in-” you moved further forward, the streetlight shining above you and illuminating your ass. Joel tried to be a gentleman, but his eyes betrayed him. As he snuck another glance, he couldn't help but notice a little wet spot over the crotch of your panties. “In-inside…” he finished his sentence, words catching in his throat. He gulped, trying to divert his eyes. 

Taking a shaky breath and stepping forward, trying to ignore the throbbing need in his pants, he lightly grabbed your arm. “It's time to go sweetheart. The bugs are sleepin’ I think.” 

You looked at him and smiled mischievously. “I know, Joel,” you winked. Jumping up, you scampered towards your house, leaving Joel to wonder what the hell just happened.

“Woman's gonna be the death of me,” Joel muttered under his breath to himself. He caught up to you, just as you both approached your house. “Joel, I don't wanna go home. Can't I stay with you? And Ellie?” you batted your eyelashes at him. He rubbed his neck. “Ellie's with a friend tonight. But, you do have a point. You probably shouldn't be left by yourself in this state. Don't want you gettin’ hurt, or sick, and bein’ all alone.”

“Such a gentleman, Joel.” You touched his bicep, the two of you walking towards Joel's house across the street.

Hardly, he thought, grimacing at the reason he was aching in his trousers, feeling like an old creep, and a terrible excuse for a friend.

Once inside Joel's house, he gave you a baggy sleep shirt and a glass of water with some crackers to help with the alcohol. You changed, brushed your teeth with a spare toothbrush, and used the restroom. He let you have his bed, while he took the couch down the hall, scrunching his legs up to barely fit.

_____

Joel tried his hardest to ignore what he saw earlier and just go to bed, but the aching only continued, making it impossible to sleep. Sure that you must have fallen asleep by now, tucked away in his bed down the hall, he quietly reached into his pajama bottoms and boxers, pulling out his rock-hard penis. Even the mere touch of removing himself from his pants caused him to hiss, so worked up he could have cum just watching you bent over earlier.

He was a gentleman, but he was still a man, and one that hadn't been with a woman in a very long time. With as many people as he'd lost by one means or another, he'd told himself he wouldn't get close to anyone else. Sarah's mom. Sarah. Tess. Bill and Frank. Sam and Henry. He almost thought he had lost Tommy before Jackson, too. It was against his wishes that Ellie crawled her way into his heart, and then he almost lost her as well. He was beginning to think maybe it was him. He was cursed, doomed to have anyone he loved ripped away from him.

Which is why when you came to Jackson, he tried his best to ignore you. But you always greeted him, cheerful and sweet, like a little ball of sunshine that was somehow untarnished by the storm clouds of an apocalypse.

He was irritated to realize that he had made room in his heart for you. You caused an ache in his heart that yearned to be filled. A missing piece in his soul. A place for him to someday fit, tangled between sheets and loving words. It had been about a year since you moved to Jackson, and he still feared getting too close to you, yet he would try his hardest to woo you the way a gentleman should. Sweet nicknames, flirting, gentle touches. You never picked up on it. Whether or not you felt the same, he stupidly fell in love. Unsure if it was mutual, yet pretty sure it wasn't after all this time, he tried to ignore the dirty thoughts revolving around you when the late-night urges would hit him. Somehow it felt wrong.

But tonight, it was hard to avoid. Having you touch him. His face, his neck, his chest, his hips, his thighs. Kneeling eye level with his crotch. Slinking away, sticking your barely covered ass in the air, letting your wet panties be shown to him and only him. He couldn't get you out of his head as he stroked himself. First slowly, but then harder and faster, trying to reach his climax with the thought of him burying himself in that sweet spot underneath your wet underwear. How he longed to see you with his own eyes, begging for him.

He tried to be quiet, to keep himself hidden from you down the hall, but the noise of skin on skin grew slightly louder with each of his quiet moans and panting breaths that managed to slip from his lips. Imagining himself buried deep inside you, taking you from behind in the same position he saw you in earlier, imagining the tight grip around him and the slick noises he could only fantasize about. He could practically hear you moaning and sighing, the sound seeping from his subconscious to the living room. He pumped harder, swirling his thumb around the head, drooling with precum, as his climax grew closer. He could feel his strokes becoming less controlled and his balls pulling upward as he began to shoot load after load of white hot release up under his shirt onto his stomach. Stroking himself through it, he milked his last few ropes of cum out before laying back to catch his breath, slowly tucking himself back away in his pants.

Coming back to his senses, he realized the sounds of your moans and whimpers that he was imagining were still happening. Taken out of his fantasies when he finished, there was no reason for the sounds to still be in his head. Needing to grab a cloth from the linen closet down the hall anyway, he walked, nearing his bedroom door, and heard the unmistakable sound of you pleasuring yourself. Quietly, he padded down the hallway, closer to the door. He could tell you were trying to be quiet, but could still hear you, soft whimpers and pants, surrounded by wet schlick noises.

Fuck, he thought. He could feel himself already getting excited again, despite having just released a few minutes ago. He desperately wanted to join you in his bed, or at the least, stand by the door and listen to your sounds while pleasuring himself, but he wasn't going to be a creep, nor scare you to death. You were still his friend. Even if he did want to move the couch across the living room to hear you better.

_____

Meanwhile in Joel's room, you had tried to sleep. You really had. But tossing and turning, each roll causing your nose to be surrounded with his scent, you were thrown into a frenzy, like an animal in heat. Each smell of his cologne, shaving cream, deodorant, and natural body scent that you picked up from his bed sent a wave of arousal directly to your core. You wondered how many times he'd pleasured himself in this bed and how frequently. You wondered if he ever thought of you while doing it, imagining himself buried deep to the hilt inside of you, each drag of his cock more perfect than the last, much like you were imagining now.

You would be lying if you didn't say there were a lot of handsome men in Jackson. Granted, you had been without romance for a very long time, but still. Many of them were single, and some of them were very sweet and friendly. Yet for some strange reason, your heart had been drawn to Joel. The first moment you saw him, with his silvery curls and his grumpy face, his shining brown eyes and his patched beard, you were smitten. You were a bit disappointed that he seemed to be a massive grump, but despite what everyone said, he was always nice to you. Granted, you were always nice to him, so why should he be anything less, right?

He was always a total gentleman, calling you names like darlin’ and sweetheart, his southern drawl pulling you in like a lasso. His care for his unofficially-adopted daughter warmed your heart, and you could see he was a real family man from both their relationship, and the one he shared with his brother. It warmed your heart, especially when you befriended Tommy and Ellie, getting to hear them talk about Joel. Seeing the love they feel, even if they give him a hard time sometimes. You didn't see how people felt Joel was cruel or heartless, even with the stories you heard. Times were rough, and people did what they had to for survival. 

You were always too chicken to make a move, and you figured he wouldn't be interested anyway. Surely him calling you those names and being sweet with you was just his Southern gentlemanly nature, right? You were nice to him, he was nice to you. 

So tonight, when Jimmy, the local heartthrob in town, asked you on a date, you told him you'd think about it and let him know. Yeah, you claimed you weren't sure how you felt about relationships after all the world had become. Truth was, you wanted a last chance with Joel before throwing in the towel and settling for Jimmy.

Sure, Jimmy was handsome. Blonde hair, blue eyes, rugged, yet boyish. Several of the women in town had crushes on him, and he had had several of the women in town. You weren't clueless to the rumors about his playboy behavior. But it had been a while and well, you weren't getting any younger. It might be nice to have a partner, even if he did only want a short little fling. 

So throwing back a few drinks, you decided you needed the liquid courage to finally make a move at Joel. One last effort to get his attention. You still didn't want to say anything to him, lest it ruin your current friendship that had grown so strong, but you could certainly use your body to entice a little. Drinking just enough to be brave, yet not so drunk that you were completely out of it, you gave an impression you were much drunker than you were, and needed Joel to help you out. Jimmy had almost been the one to walk you home, to your disappointment, before Joel stepped in, seeming slightly irritated about Jimmy's offer.

Yet after practically waving your ass in his face, showing him your panties (which you were sure looked wet), being inches from his crotch at knee height, and hanging on him all the way home, to now sleeping in his house and his bed, you were quite sure he didn't feel the same. Obviously his gestures were pure gentlemanly charm if he didn't bite after tonight's show.

So you tried to sleep, still a little drunk, but getting drunker off his scent. You tried to ignore the ache between your legs but the thought of him in this bed, groaning as his hand pumped his member to completion, made you throb. Soaked and antsy, you finally gave in and stuck your hand under the waistband of your panties. You let your imagination run wild, picturing him taking you in this bed, bringing you to bliss more than once. You could practically hear him groaning and panting, the sound seeping from your subconscious to the bedroom.

Tomorrow you would likely tell Jimmy yes. But tonight, you would try your best to get Joel out of your system, one stroke of your fingers at a time. But as you finished, coming with a whisper of Joel's name under your breath, you could still hear the groans and pants from Joel. Climbing out of bed, you moved to the door, pressing your ear against it. You could just barely hear the sounds of him panting and groaning, intermittent with the fapping of skin on skin. Delightedly surprised, you listened harder, feeling your pussy drool at the thought. How desperately you wanted to go out into the living room and climb on top of him. But he might not want that… he probably just couldn't sleep. Probably nothing to do with the scene you put on earlier. So instead, you slinked back to his bed, opting for round two.

At some point, the two of you fell asleep, panting and writhing with the self-induced pleasure, and the sound of each other through the door.

_____

The next morning, you awoke, walking down the hall to see Joel in his pajama bottoms and no shirt, making coffee. Your eyes scanned his broad shoulders and back, naked and tan. Bringing you back to last night's events, you felt your breath catching in your chest. 

“M-morning” you stuttered out, nervously.

Joel jumped, having not heard you. He turned, greeting you with a good morning. A faint blush crept across his cheeks and he quickly turned his head to pour a cup of coffee, offering you some as well. Thanking him, the two of you sipped in silence, both stealing glances at the other and thinking of the night before. Both of you felt like you had a dirty little secret the other didn't know. 

“Thanks again for taking care of me last night,” you added. In more ways than one, you thought.

“Of course, darlin’. Couldn't have you walkin’ home all alone or getting sick in the middle of the night. You're always welcome here,” he smiled.

“Well, I guess I better head to my house now,” you sighed. “See you later at patrol?”

“Course. Take care, sugar.” He brushed his hand over your arm. That's new… you thought. But still, probably friendly, unfortunately.

____

Hours later, you show up to patrol, noticing Joel hasn't arrived yet. Still a few minutes early, you look at the map, thinking over the route. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and turned around to see Jimmy. 

“Hey, Jimmy,” you greeted, feeling slightly awkward. You assumed he probably wanted (and deserved) an answer. You rubbed your arm nervously, staring at the ground, wondering what to tell him. He was handsome, you thought, and you weren't getting anywhere with Joel. 

“Did you, uh” Jimmy scratched behind his ear, “give any more thought to that date?”

Geesh. Not a lot of thinking time here…

“I did,” you replied. “I think… My answer is yes. I'll go out with you.” You felt a pang of regret in your stomach, but you wanted a connection, and you just weren't getting that from Joel, despite what you wanted to think from last night.

Jimmy grinned. “Really?” He picked up your hand, holding it in his. “That's great. I know you have patrol today, but maybe Friday? I'll meet you at your house at 6?” 

“Sure,” you gave a small fake smile. “Sounds great.” He still held your hand, warm and soft and nothing like the rugged, large, callused hands of hard-working Joel. Although Joel has never held your hand, the times he's touched your arms, or held you up on your walk from the bar, he left a trail of goosebumps and butterflies in his wake, despite being warm to the touch.

Jimmy went to kiss your hand, just as Joel walked up. “What’s goin’ on here, huh?” He asked, seeming almost… angry, looking from Jimmy, to your connected hands, over to your face. “Joel,” Jimmy dropped your hand, giving Joel a curt nod.

“Jimmy..” Joel replied, teeth clenched. 

“I'll see you Friday,” Jimmy smiled at you, touching your shoulder before walking away.

“What did that little asshole want?” Joel growled.

“Geez Joel, chill out. What's your problem? I'm not allowed to talk to people?” You crossed your arms.

“I toldja last night. I don't trust that kid. Too busy sleepin’ around with the whole town. What's he talkin’ to you for?” Joel furrowed his brow, looking over at Jimmy across the room, now talking to some of the other patrolmen.

“Gosh Joel.. seriously what is wrong with you? First of all, he's hardly a kid. He's at least in his thirties. Second of all, everyone he's been with, I'm sure has been consensual, otherwise Tommy would have kicked him out of the town. And lastly, but probably more important. What do you mean “what is he talking to you for?” You mocked in a deep voice. “Like I'm the only option he has left? Like I'm not deserving of a man talking to me? Not that it’s any of your business, friend, but for your information, Jimmy is taking me on a date on Friday. So fuck off, Joel.” You started to stomp away angrily, grabbing your pack off the desk.

“The fuck he is,” Joel muttered under his breath, so quiet you didn't hear and grabbing his pack as well.

_____

Five hours. Five hours of riding in complete silence, checking out abandoned buildings in complete silence, and taking breaks in complete silence. Even your first patrol wasn't this quiet, and you couldn't help but feel like he was somehow angry at you.

As irritated as you were with him, not talking to him somehow felt worse. This wasn't like him. Is this the grumpy side everyone talks about? Is this Joel, the asshole you have yet to meet?

Feeling confused, your eyes started to cloud, slightly teary with anger and sadness, yet also a bit of dread at going out with Jimmy. You blinked your eyes, sorting through the abandoned drug store you and Joel were in.

Finding some condoms on a shelf, you threw them in your pack. “What're you doin’?” Joel asked. “Those can't be sold, didn't you pay attention to Tommy? They're rarely effective this old.”

“Yes I paid attention, Joel. I know they can't be sold. They're for me. I figured it's better than nothing,” you replied bitterly. “I have a date in a couple days, I want to be prepared,” you scowled. Joel’s jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything, instead turning to look the other direction of the aisle.

Crouched down to search the bottom shelf for other items, Joel was still turned away from you, keeping lookout on the other end of the aisle. 

You didn't even hear the stalker leap around the corner from the shadows and pounce on you. It opened its mouth, fungal strands spreading from its mouth towards your face. Pure fear pulsed through your veins.

“Joel!!!!!” You cried out, using all your strength to try and push the infected off of your body, but it was too strong. 

You screamed and kicked, struggling to break free, when Joel fired his shotgun, shooting the enemy in the head and immediately running over to you. Throwing the infected off of your body as if it was weightless, Joel scooped you into his arms. His lips moved but you heard nothing. Your ears rang, high pitched squeals from adrenaline, fear, shock, and the bang of the shotgun.

Joel pawed over your body, roughly inspecting you for bites and wounds in a frenzy. When he didn't find any, he held you in his arms again. “It's okay baby, it's okay. You're alright sweetheart. Come back to me, it's okay. You're okay.” Your hearing must have returned. He rocked you, tears welling from your eyes and his. “You're okay. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.” He kissed your ear and the side of your head, still rocking you in a hug, sitting on the floor, inches from the now-dead infected. The two of you needed to get out of here, but neither of you could move yet.

Finally you spoke. “Why are you sorry Joel?” You asked with a sniffle. You wrapped your arm around his back, the other hand finding the back of his head, gripping his curls gently.

“I'm sorry for how I've been actin’ all day. I'm sorry I didn't see that stalker before he attacked. I'm sorry for being so possessive earlier. I'm sorry,” he held you tighter.

You pulled back to look into his eyes. “Joel, you couldn't have heard or seen that stalker. That's what they do best. You saved me and that's all that matters. As for earlier, you were being an asshole, and it did really hurt my feelings. All this time people have said you're such a jerk, and I didn't see it,” you pulled away from his grip, “but today I did.” You looked at your lap. “Don't I deserve to go on a date? Don't I deserve to have someone love me?” You picked at the hem of your pants, avoiding his eye contact.

“Oh, darlin', I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to feel that way. I just - you deserve something real, not a hookup like that guy wants. I know his type. He'll sleep with you and toss you aside. You deserve to be treated like a lady.”

You snorted. “Yeah, Joel. That's how things are nowadays, too. Gentleman just waiting to sweep me off my feet. Shit, you literally just saved me from near-death, something that happens all the time today, and yet you're saying I deserve love? To find romance? Yeah, right.”

Joel didn't say anything. He just looked into your eyes, lips pursed and moving to the side in thought. His eyes drifted to your lips and back up to your sight.

You continued. “I don't even like Jimmy,” you said quietly. “I like someone else, but I just got tired of waiting and wanted some kind of connection. Even if it's just a night in bed.” At the last part of your sentence, Joel grimaced, almost in pain. And then he thought.

“Wait,” he sat back a little, scanning your face. “Who do you like?” 

You gulped. Why not a little more adrenaline? “Well, it was you, until you started acting like an asshole. But I realized you probably didn't feel the same way a while ago. Especially after I practically threw myself at you last night.”

“Threw yourself at me last night? What are you talkin’ about? You were drunk,” Joel answered.

“I wasn't that drunk, Joel. My movements were pretty planned. The placement of my touches on your body. My ass angled up in your direction. I wanted you,” you added, pointedly.

Joel looked like he was solving a complicated math problem. “So you… last night when you… I heard you, in bed, pleasurin’ yourself. Were you… thinking about me?”

You looked up at him in shock and panic. “You heard me?” You asked in a frantic whisper.

“Yeah, I uh… I did. I got up to get a towel and heard your uh… sounds” he cleared his throat.

“I guess I should tell you then that I heard you too,” you said with a smirk.

Joel swallowed, hard. “Y-ya heard me?”

“Yep” you replied, popping your lips on the p sound.

Joel had nothing to lose at this point. “I was thinking about you,” he proclaimed. “Thinkin’ bout that wet spot on your panties when you flashed your ass in the air. Wishin’ I was buried inside you.” He ran his hand across your thigh.

Your breathing picked up. “I was thinking about you too. Wishing you'd bust through that door and take me in your bed, running my nails down your back as we came together…” you mimicked the motion with your fingers down his jacket-clad back.

“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes closing. You glanced down at the noticeable bulge in his jeans. “I like you too, I just never thought you felt the same. Y’never seemed to pick up on any of my sweet talkin’ or my names for ya.”

“I just figured you were being nice,” you replied, glancing back into his eyes.

“You should know by now, I'm only nice to you,” he growled. “I'm sorry I ruined that today,” he glanced at your mouth, licking his lips. “Was just jealous. Want you all for myself,” he stroked your thigh again.

You sighed at the feeling, pulling him by his collar to kiss him deeply. The kiss was frantic and rough, both of you trying to get as much of each other as possible, a year of build-up boiling at the surface. Teeth clashed and tongues danced and you pulled each other closer, grasping at clothes and skin. 

The two of you broke the kiss, needing a gasp of air. You started to take off your shirt when Joel stopped you. “Whoa, darlin'. I want you just as bad, but not here,” he gestured to the old building. “It's dangerous, not to mention gross in here. I wasn't kidding when I said you deserve romance,” he stood, pulling you to your feet. “We're about a 20 minute ride from base, let's head home. Make your fantasy of fuckin’ in my bed come true,” he winked, giving a smack to your ass. 

_____

The 20 minute ride felt never-ending as you both stole glances at each other, your panties still wet with arousal, and him still sporting the tent in his pants, which was hard to miss. 

Finally making it back to the stables, you both quickly undressed the horses and put gear away, about to head out of the barn when Jimmy and his partner rode up. “Hey, babe,” he called to you. It sounded wrong from his mouth. Joel tensed at your side.

Dismounting his horse, Jimmy strolled over to you. “Hey Jimmy, I was thinking. I don't think I want to go on that date after all. I'm sorry, I just don't feel the same way.”

“What?” Jimmy asked in disbelief.

“I know, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I- I like someone else. I just didn't think they felt the same way,” you replied sheepishly.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“What?” You were in disbelief.

“Fuck you, bitch. One of the few women in this town who won't fuckin’ put out. I was even gonna take you on some shitty date before I got you into bed, and now you make a fool of me? Nah, I don't think so,” he stalked towards you angrily. 

You stepped back, worried what he might do, but Joel stepped in first, nailing a punch at Jimmy's nose. “Don't you dare talk to her like that,” Joel yelled.

Tommy came running in, hearing the commotion. After hearing what happened, it was decided that Jimmy wouldn't be welcome in this town any longer.

Satisfied, you grabbed Joel's hand. “Why don't I show you who I really belong to?” You looked up at him, biting your lip.

“Lead the way, baby.” He pushed you forward, smacking your ass.

The two of you stumbled into his house, kissing with little regard for objects. Luckily, Ellie was still at a friend's house. The door slammed closed and you kissed furiously, undressing as you walked. Finally you reached his bedroom and fell onto the bed, where he made all your fantasies of the night prior come true. The two of you enjoyed the taste of each other's mouths, kissing and licking, while he pounded into you, leaving you breathless and screaming his name as you both came.

“That was even better than I imagined,” you sighed, rolling over onto his chest.

“That's my girl,” he cooed, kissing your head and rubbing your back.

“Mine,” he whispered.

[softgreengrass]

The Gold

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: angst, au where clint dies on vormir instead of natasha, set a few months after endgame, relationship troubles😬

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: survivor’s guilt, breakup

Author’s Note: based on “the gold” by manchester orchestra and phoebe bridgers

You wake to birds chirping. Natasha has opened the window. She’s nowhere to be seen, probably in the kitchen or out for a run. All at once, a crushing melancholy falls onto your chest, the one that’s been appearing with increasing frequency ever since she returned.

She hadn’t wanted to come back; anyone could see that. She wished she was dead instead of Clint, instead of Tony. And she meant it. She wanted to be dead.

Because of that, it had never felt like a victory to you. You knew the others agreed —Wanda, Peter, Bucky— but that didn’t make it much easier.

Even the things Thanos hadn’t taken, he had changed.

You get up slowly, all too aware of the lump in your throat and the fragility of your heart. If Natasha so much as looks at you wrong this morning, you’ll lose it. Again.

You know she’s tired of it, of your mood swings and sensitivity, but it all stems from her and she knows that too. Those first few weeks after her return had set a certain tone.

Natasha is standing at the kitchen counter, staring at the coffee pot. You know why instantly. You always do.

“I forgot how he used to drink straight from this,” she murmurs.

“I know.”

You’ve grown used to Natasha’s blank stare: it doesn’t twist your heart the way it used to. Some days you think she found your biggest store of sympathy and dried it all up. You shuffle past her, open the freezer, and pull out hash browns.

“I was going to visit Laura today,” she says numbly.

“You visited her yesterday, baby,” you say, glancing up at her as you dump the hash browns onto a pan. “I think she’s okay for today.”

Natasha swallows. You can see the pain in her eyes, the sinkhole of regret. “I don’t have any other plans.”

“You could stay home with me.”

Your tone is neutral, but you know she picks up on the hope in it. And you can feel the distance that grows between you the longer she takes to answer.

“Come on, Nat,” you smile, like your eyes aren’t already stinging with tears.

“I want to be useful,” she pleads. “I… you’re too good to me here. I can’t be useful.”

It takes you a second to process what on earth she could possibly mean. Natasha stands quietly.

In another life, you could’ve said the words on your tongue. Could’ve told her that you need her like water, that the most useful thing she could possibly do is just be with you. But you know you can survive without her. At this point she must know that too.

And yet, there’s something yearning in her eyes, like she has faith in you.

The hash browns crackle and give you an excuse to look at them instead of her.

Somewhere deep inside of you, you know Natasha has always been fine without you. She doesn’t love you in the way you love her, in the way that would summon sympathy and energy out of thin air. She used to, maybe. It’s all bitter on your tongue.

She clears her throat. “I got an email. Apparently they want to give us medals.“

“You brought back half the universe. The least you deserve is a medal.”

You know what she wants to say to that. The silence is frustrated and thick, the lump in your throat quickly returning. You hate that nothing is easy anymore.

“I’m going to Laura’s,” she says eventually.

You can’t find it in you to respond; you can barely make yourself nod. The oil on the pan bubbles and spatters violently, and you realize that’s how your blood feels, singing your arteries and your veins and your heart.

When the door closes behind her, you close your eyes.

Your dad’s face comes to mind. “Don’t open your eyes for a while,” he used to say, his voice gravelly but gentle. “Just breathe that moment down.”

It had helped, especially in your teenage years when you were quick to anger and quicker to hurt. Regret used to swallow you whole. You had told Natasha that once, years ago, when you visited his grave together for the first time. She had been polite.

You don’t want to resent her. God, how you don’t. But the past couple of months have worn you down to the bone, and it would be one thing if she was fighting too, but she gave up on that cliff. You don’t know how much longer you can do all the caring for.

And it’s not like your relationship was perfect before, either. You had met her at a high point. It had always been a steady decline.

A hard wave of guilt nearly knocks the breath out of you, and you have to grip the counter to keep your balance. You love her. You’ll fight for as long as you can.

You eat the burnt hash browns right out of the pan, even though you don’t feel hungry.

By ten, Natasha still hasn’t come home, and you’re back in bed, blinking back more tears, since that feels like all you do nowadays. Now accompanying the gloom and guilt in your ribcage is an unrelenting discomfort. It’s that same old helpless feeling, the one that knows things are going to change and there’s nothing you can do about it.

The vertigo of it all rocks you to sleep.

You make it another week before one of Natasha’s nightmares wakes you up and you’re so full of discontent you can’t breathe. Still, you swallow it down and find her hand in the dark.

“Nat, you’re right here,” you whisper.

A squeeze of her hand and she opens her eyes, frantically looking around.

“It was just a dream.”

Wild eyes find your own; a sheen of sweat coats her face. Her breath heaves. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” The words burn in your throat. How many times will you have to tell her that?

Her head falls back against the pillow with a sigh.

Your eyes ache for sleep, but then there it is again, that realization that soon you might never be in bed with her again. You’re not sure how to appreciate it fully.

“Are you hungry?” she asks coarsely, staring up at the ceiling.

You’re not. “I could eat.”

She smears peanut butter onto toast into the kitchen, gives the first one to you. It must be the millionth time the two of you have been in the kitchen together, dark circles under your eyes and hair frizzy.

“You know I wish none of that ever happened,” Natasha says softly.

“Of course,” you furrow your brow. “I wish it didn’t either.”

“No, I mean,” she huffs. “I wish we didn’t change. I wish I didn’t change.”

It’s like something has pierced your heart. You can’t find anything to say to comfort her, because you wish that just as much as she does.

“I don’t want you to go,” she admits, her bottom lip quivering. “But I don’t want to hold you back just because I’m stuck.”

“Nat…”

She swallows thickly. “It’s your choice.”

You hate that you already know your answer, that you’ve known it for so long. You hate it.

Your arms wrap around her tightly as you take in her softness and her scent again. Her cheek is damp against your shoulder, your own eyes welling with relentless tears.

It feels like stiff fingers prodding at your throat and your chest: it makes you want to curl into a ball. You’re horrified at the idea of a life without her, especially one where you know she’s still walking around. But it’s either drown or freefall, and you need to give yourself a chance.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you mutter into her neck.

“It’s okay,” she whispers. “I’m sorry too.”

She holds you as wave after wave of bittersweet relief and regret crash over you, and you fall asleep in each other’s arms once more. The next morning she helps you gather your things.

[agroupiewhore]

Some random headcanons about what it would be like to date Enzo and a little imagine with him. I haven't wrote anything in ages so apologies if this is shite. Please no hate but let me know if you like this etc. I am always welcome to feedback/ thoughts/ comments/ concerns. Sorry in advance for grammar and spelling and punctuation

🐟🐳🐙🔵🪱

(THIS MANS JAWLINE IS MORE STRUCTURED THAN MY LIFE)

*Disclaimer: This is my own work and my own self-indulgent ideas, none of this is based in reality. And warnings for making out etc, nothing too explicit (PG-13)

✨️ There is no way you ever have to carry your own bag. This man is rushing in to help you. Whether that's your handbag on date night or all of the shopping bags after your weekly grocery shop run. And yes, he refuses to make 2 trips to the car.

✨️ Speaking of weekly shops runs, Enzo is that boyfriend who always pushes the trolley/ cart.

✨️ Matching Adidas trackies. Never quite knowing whose joggers/ t shirts/ jackets that belonged to.

✨️ Wearing his boxers after sex to go down and make a fresh batch of coffee.

✨️ Is always entertaining you with unusual facts and information about Uruguay and is keen for you to learn and embrace his culture and he is keen to learn more about yours.

✨️ Matching your nail varnish to his bow tie/ tie/ shirt colour etc.

✨️ Midnight beach walks where you tell eachother all your hopes and dreams and desires, all the 'deep stuff' you feel you can't tell eachother when it's daylight as it seems to real.

✨️ This man can dance. He has so much natural rhythm and is such a natural. He'll always be the first one up on the dance floor at parties and cast parties and would much rather spend the time on the dance floor with you rather than talking. Also at home will put on whatever dance music he wants and will just start dancing with you.

✨️ Dressing up as Kylo Ren and Rey for Halloween. "Well I mean... I think we should go as them, it would look good" "Fine"

A Perfect Day

You went to open the fridge to find the pouring cream for your iced coffees but were distracted by the note attached to the front, wrote in Enzo's beautiful cursive handwriting. You smiled to yourself as you read it. He always left the most beautiful love notes and this one was no exception. It simply read "You're my happy place". You took the note off the fridge and folded it neatly and placed it in your dressing gown pocket. You were saving them all, for what you weren't sure, but you pictured a future for you and enzo, maybe one day sticking all the notes down into a scrap book and passing it onto your daughter. To show her how much she should be loved by another. You smiled at the thought and opened the fridge, finally, to find the pouring cream. After Enzo had finished filming, touring and surving the awards season the two of you finally had some time and moved in together. The first thing he had done was gone out and found the most fanciest coffee machine. You guys hadn't even bought a bed yet at that point. You finished making your drinks and went back upstairs. Enzo was sat up in bed, shirtless.

"Well damn, it's hot this morning." You laughed as you sat back in bed next to him, being careful not to spill anything. "Here my angel." You passed him the iced coffee. He carefully took it from you and took that first heavenly sip.

"Hmm, perfecto." He said closing his eyes with a satisfied smile on his face. "I do not know how I survived without having you around, only you can make my coffee right."

"I'm sure there is someone else who could, I could always teach them, it's not too hard. There aren't any crazy secret ingredients." You replied "I just make it with love, I think that's why it's so good." Enzo leaned over and kissed you. "I love you so much, mi amor." He said as he took your hand. "What would you like to do today?"

"We need to go shopping to get a couple things and I was thinking maybe we could have a go at making our own pizzas for dinner?" You suggested, admiring him.

"You always have the best ideas, I have a couple more things to add to the list so please don't let me forget my love." Enzo said as he got out of bed. It would never get old seeing how beautiful he was. It was like he had been sculpted by the world's most incredible artist whose attention to detail no one was able to match. You felt so lucky to not only be with one so handsome but to also have discovered someone with a soul that was equally as beautiful. Enzo gave all of his love and time to you. He was always there, his strength and resilience gave you strength. He was so honoured and humbled to have been given such an important role in the film and the sincerity in which he handled his part was inspiring to you. He never got angry when you would call him in the middle of the night due to the time differences or when he had come home to see that you had used his entire bottle of his most expensive cologne. You had missed him a lot while he was away filming so decided one night to spray a little of it on to the pillow next to you, then a little onto your wrist; just to make it seem like he was there with you, however next thing you knew you'd unintentionally sprayed the entire bottle around the house and it was now empty. Enzo found it to be a most romantic gesture and when he left again to complete filming took a pot of your lip balm to apply each night so it could feel like you'd just kissed him. You heard the shower turn on and got up from the bed again to decide what to wear for today. It was a simple errand day so you grabbed a pair of Adidas joggers and a black long sleeved top.

"Wow, you look so beautiful." He said staring at you.

"What? These?" You laughed. "It's a step up from pajamas."

"You look perfect, I love it so much I will also wear mine." He said as he began looking in the wardrobe.

"Maybe one day you could surprise everyone and wear Nike." You laughed. You admired him once again as he got dressed and then you both finished your coffees. Ofcourse Enzo insisted on driving and you sat in the passenger seat and played DJ. Enzo was a cautious driver, especially whilst you were in the car. He could never understand men who drove dangerously to try and impress their partners. How could he risk your life? He couldn't live with himself if anything happened to you, especially if he was the cause of it. You thought is was sweet how he was always so gentle and careful with you. He parked up outside the supermarket.

"I can get my door." You said quickly, opening it as soon as he turned off the ignition. A few times Enzo had managed to run around to open your car door whilst you rummaged around for your handbag or wallet. He was always the gentleman.

"You know I love opening it for you." He said sweetly as he linked his hand with yours. "I'll push the cart."

"I wasn't even going to try." You laughed. Enzo had to push the trolley. He just had to, it wasn't an option for you ever. It made him feel helpful and supportive. You took the list out of your pocket as you walked in with him and began looking down the aisles.

"We have to get these crisps, you'll love them." You said, standing on your tip toes.

"I got it baby." Enzo said, barely having to extend his arm to grab the pack. There were times when his height came in handy and this was certainly one of them. One time the two of you had a fight that had started off as a result of something so small and petty and then seemingly didn't stop and just kept getting worse and worse. It was the first night the two of you went to bed without apologies or saying how much you loved one another. The next day you didn't say a word to him, you'd returned from work and Enzo had moved all of your favourite snacks and drinks to the top shelves so you had no choice but to talk to him.

"And can you get those ones as well, my love. That flavour looks good too." You said pointing to the packet next to it.

"Anything for you." He said, grabbing everything you asked for. You carried on walking through the supermarket getting everything you needed to make pizza later.

"I'll get this." You said, putting your card on the card reader first.

"No, no!" Enzo insisted. "Baby, we talked about this".

"I'll pay." You said "It's fine honey". Enzo muttered in Spanish about how he should be the one paying. The two of you walked back to the car and together loaded the shopping into the back of the car and drove back.

"Are you going to let me carry any of the shopping?" You asked.

"Not a chance." Enzo laughed and leaned over to kiss you. You kissed him back and gently tugged on the back of his hair to be able to kiss down his beautifully structured jawline.

"I love you so much." You said, between kisses.

"I love you so much more." He said. He kissed the tip of your nose and rested his forehead against yours. His soft eyelashes gently brushing your skin. "I got the shopping, don't worry." You got out of the car and opened the door for him. Enzo grabbed all the bags and followed you in.

"Baby, one day all the bags are going to break and I don't know what you will do." You said as you began putting everything away. "Leave the pizza ingredients out, my love."

"Anything for you, I will cut mine in to a heart shape." He said, doing as you asked him. You smiled at him.

"I might try and do a star or something, I don't know." You said. "Maybe the shape of a coffee bean."

"You know me so well." He said smiling as the last of the shopping was put away. The sun was beginning to set and the sky was turning a beautiful pink colour. You went out onto the balcony and looked out. The view was beautiful, just like your life now. You heard the doors slide open and Enzo stepped outside. You continued to look out as you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer. He kissed your neck gingerly taking in the smell of your perfume and moisturiser. The two of you fitting together perfectly, the final missing piece of the jigsaw to your life.

[meet-the-coffee]

Tf2 McDonalds Headcanons: Coffee edition...

So, somebody posted a template thingy and I replied to that post. Here's my full thing with my own template made lmao,,

Link to inspiriational and original post here

So, my headcanons are like this:

Heavy:

I view Heavy as a pretty serious guy so I think he can go a little further up with Medic, yet not all the way still. He can once in a while "oke oke. Heavy could go for burger. Let's eat burger." And then chuckle. But he's very much born and raised with responsibility with his mom and sisters. He's responsible and nurturing. That is his nature behind that solid mountain of a man. (Read: official comics) This man starts ordering and he doesn't stop ordering /hj,, no but fr I think like, he, alone, orders for 3 people to eat for himself. The rest stares in horror and/or awe.

Medic:

Medic is peak "ve havf food at home. Quiet down nowv, QUIEEET."

Engie:

Engie should be middle between "we have food at home" and the chanting. I think he's the mom of the group a lot of the times (cooks and bakes for the team in my hc) but I think he would very much also like to bring the "kids" to mcdonalds sometimes because why not!! So mid right it is. Probably orders some burger and a coffee. Sometimes a water or sooometimes some soda.

Demoman:

Demoman is a drunk. Drunks love fat food. Him and Soldier are dumbasses and I view them as being quite child-like like this. Demo and Soldier are absolutely chanting for burgers. But also, I think Demo is just a sliiight bit more responsible (he's mama's boy!!) Demo orders a wholeass meal ok. Something with lots of meat and bacon and cheese. Drink? Bro drinks beer. He tries to order a beer. He does not get a beer. He shrugs and chugs the beer in his hand.

Soldier:

On that note, I see Soldier as a sliiight bit more possible to go HELL YEA BURGERS, drive the fking bus in via drive-through and go "FIVE CHEESEBURGERS AND A COKE. A REEAAL AMERICAN COKE... YEAHAH." And then eat all of the burgers for himself. He's not rude he's just oblivious lmao,, not many braincells scrambling around in there.

Pyro:

Scout and Pyro are absolutely screaming for mcDonk. Pyro wants happy meal. He fucking loves the toys. He collects them, even. Keeps him occupied in the car lmao... he always orders a milkshake. Maybe strawberry flavour.

Scout:

Scout orders a 20-box of chicken nuggets (like me!!) Or the big McShare-box with different stuff like chili cheese tops, nuggets and chicken clubs, (also like me. We both audhd as hell ok) and always a coke and/or a milkshake. (Sometimes he wants both!!)

Spy:

Spy doesn't give a fuck, he gets a coffee. He just needs a coffee to be able to withstand the drive home with the bunch of toddlers in the backseat. Only chance they get to order something is if Scout bounces in (after experience from first or second time) to go "AAAND AY UHHHHHH--". Spy scoffs in annoyance and tells him to sit down and shut up. Scout does neither. He wants chicken nuggets. But first few times, Spy really just sighs at the chanting, throws his finished cig out of the crack in the window, and exits the highway for mcdonalds. And then he just goes "one black coffee please." And they go "anything else?" And he just goes "Mercí, that'll be all." And start driving for the next window before they even tell him to (more to do so before anyone interrupts and protests).

Sniper:

Sniper is below middle on the left line - between . On occasion he's like "fk sake." And goes for a coffee and probably elbows Scout in his possessions before he can do what he does to Spy. And then after paying and driving off with his coffee, he just coldly goes "Like I said. We have food at home." Like Spy, he just needs a coffee to survive the drive home. And not get an impulse to drive straight off the road into the cliffside.

[Bows bows]

Thankuthanku, that'll be all !!

[haikyu-mp4]

Nervous laughter

word count; 1190 – gn!reader, meet cute

You’re generally considered very attractive, and some would even say the cafe you work in has gained more popularity since you started working there. Your smile lights up the room, you have fun quips with the customers and you make some decent coffee. However, if you ask one of your friends why you are still single, they might say it’s because you can be a bit clumsy. Scratch that, very clumsy. And you also have this fun quirk when you get nervous. You laugh! So much! It’s an unfortunate combination, really, but you’ve survived so far.

It’s not a very busy time, but enough people were coming in and out that you’re going on auto mode. You were making drinks, serving them, greeting customers and clearing tables all at a slightly faster pace. As you pass by one of the other baristas, you throw them a high five before picking up the next coffee, walking right out past the bar when your whole routine is disturbed. If only you had been more cautious, which you tell yourself every time. Someone stepped in your path and now you’ve spilled coffee on their crisp white shirt and the cup you were supposed to give to a customer was shattered on the ground.

Kuroo had a bad day. It wasn’t the worst one he’s ever had, but nothing seemed to be going quite right. He loves his job, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like some days were tougher to get through and on those days, he couldn’t wait to get home. A forgotten meeting, a stubbed toe and a rejected opportunity are only a few of the things he dealt with already. However, he still had to meet Bokuto later so he decided his only bet was a good cup of coffee. His hair looked a little more dishevelled than usual as he stepped inside the little cafe he found, moving towards the back of the room so he could go to the toilet and maybe try to fix his hair before taking a break with his coffee. Unfortunately, he didn’t get that far.

Now he’s staring down at his ruined shirt, then looking up at you in disbelief, already prepared to somehow convince you that it’s okay even though it’s not.

But you’re full-on laughing. Leaned over, hands on your thighs, and laughing!

This is simply outrageous. He huffs but blinks in surprise when he realises he’s actually smiling. Your laugh sounds so nice, it’s like a superpower that distracted him from anything else that wasn’t as nice.

“I am SO sorry!” you gasp out through your laughter, finally squatting down to pick up some pieces of the cup before standing up to look at him with light tears in your eyes.

“You sure don’t sound very sorry!” he answered, raising an eyebrow at you as your laughter finally started to die down. He looked around, making people whip their gazes back to what they were doing before so he wouldn’t see how everyone was staring at the possible meet cute.

“Please, can I replace your shirt or something? Or wash it for you?” you suggest, cheeks heated up from embarrassment, attention and laughter.

He huffs. “Can’t really wash it unless you want me to take my shirt off right here,” he said, growing more confident when he realised you were actually nervous.

“Are you offering?” you asked without thinking, making the two of you stare at each other before you burst out laughing again, waving your hand in front of your face to cool it down. “Forget I said that, I need to clean this up but please stick around for a moment, if you can?”

He looked at his wristwatch for effect, thought about it for a moment and then agreed. “Fine, but you better get me a fancy coffee while I wait.”

“Of course, it’s on me.”

So he sat there for a while, sipping on the coffee you brought him. It was something he hadn’t tried before, and it seemed to loosen his headache in the weirdest way. Coffee isn’t supposed to do that. Maybe it had something to do with the way you smiled and pursed your lips when you handed it to him, seeming like you had to keep yourself from laughing nervously again. It made him scoff in disbelief, but it wasn’t in a malicious manner at all. Perhaps rather affectionately.

Kuroo looks up from his phone when you finally come to sit down, then back at his phone to tell Bokuto he would be a little late before pocketing the phone altogether. “This coffee is really good,” he commented. “What is it?”

“I have no idea, I begged my coworker to make something that said ‘sorry for ruining your shirt’ to a handsome guy,” you said, sheepishly rubbing your neck. Kuroo smiled in disbelief, somehow finding you even more interesting every minute he spent with you.

“Don’t worry about it, I have more shirts,” he said, shrugging it off. “But maybe you’d let me take you out this weekend?”

“I know I ruined your shirt, but at least tell me your name first.”

A little over 1 year later.

Kuroo brought you along to a friend’s party, if you even called it that at your age when friends got together to catch up and brought their partners or complained about their lack thereof.

He used to be one of the latter. Some even witnessed him make puke-like sounds when someone kissed, usually earning him a punch in the arm. But now he’s watching you with heart eyes as you look around for him after exiting the kitchen. Your face lights up as your eyes find him, lifting your hand to give him a wave before making your way over, but you don’t get that far. Akaashi was exiting the kitchen with a plate of fruit and your hand knocked into it. Thankfully, he managed to hold onto the plate, but half the fruits he had arranged so nicely slid right off to the floor.

Kuroo was clutching his stomach for dear life as he laughed like a hyena, and it clashed so badly with your nervous laughter that kept bubbling from your throat as you leaned your hands on your thighs and tried picking up grapes at the same time.

Everyone else were just watching you, shaking their heads in amusement as Kuroo finally walked over to kiss your cheek and calm you down. You’ve been together for about a year at this point and all his friends – who are now your friends too – know this scene by now. As you catch your breath, you apologise to Akaashi who just waves it off with a smile and goes back in the kitchen to get more. Your boyfriend helps you throw away the fruit that couldn't be eaten anymore before leading you out on the balcony for some air.

Kuroo never really believed in destiny, but he’s sure you were made to be with him. After all, he just left Bokuto’s side right after asking if 1 year is too early to propose.

masterlist

[ashdreams2023]

Hi love can i request a “too clingy” cliche with Loki or five??

Only you

Five hargreeves x reader

"Hi!" You chimed warping your arms around five’s shoulders from behind "how are we feeling today"

Five sighed, taking a sip of coffee from his fifth cup that morning "tolerable" he mumbled.

Diego then came in the kitchen just as you gave five a fast squeeze before sitting down next to him, now holding onto his free arm.

"You two are brighter than ever" said Diego.

Five continued to ignore his brother, not being in the mood to speak at all that specific day.

"Has anybody see my…oh-" klaus paused when he saw five drinking his coffee and a suspiciously familiar box of coffee beans open.

"Five…is that your first cup?" Five raised a brow at his brother then looked down at his cup, the coffee looked normal and tasted just fine but since klaus is making faces something is definitely wrong with it.

"Let me see" you reached your hand to take a look too but he snatched the coffee too fast resulting in it spilling on your hand "ow!"

Five slammed his cup on the table and dragged you to the sink, he turned the cold water on and placed your hand there.

"Five you’re a little rough don’t you think?" You said without thinking, and apparently that was his last straw.

"If you knew what personal space is maybe this wouldn’t have happened and I wouldn’t have to deal with your childish behavior!"

You froze, staring dumbly at him before snatching your hand away and storming out of the kitchen with both his two brothers watching uncomfortably.

Five’s short temper never bothered you that much, he went through shit and his family wasn’t exactly the best at handling themselves alone without him throwing himself in straight up danger in order for everyone to survive.

But for some reason this time it hurt, probably because he never mentioned it before and hearing it in that tone made it seem like he couldn’t breath with you around.

You asked grace for some burns cream to cool down your hand and spent the rest of the day in Alison’s room since allowed you to take it as a personal safe space away from family drama.

It was around eight at night when he appeared in the room, you didn’t want to look at him and pretended to be interested in the old vogue magazine on Alison’s desk.

"Hey, listen…I didn’t mean what I said you know that"

Still ignoring him.

Five sighed before going in to grab your hand but you moved away, that made him cringe and turn his hands into fists.

"Why are you being difficult!?"

You turned to face him with hurt and anger both mixing on your face "You can’t breath with me around so why should I get near you!? I’m giving you your damn fucking space ok!"

Five curses himself then stood in front of the door stopping you from going anywhere "you shouldn’t take anything I say seriously when I snap…" his voice was now calmer "please…I’m sorry, I wasn’t in a good mood"

"You’re never in a good one, and you…" you felt choked, frustrated and embarrassed.

"I’m an idiot for screaming at you like that, that’s what I am…I don’t find you suffocating or any ridiculous conclusions you had got in your head, you’re the only person that I don’t mind touching me and being this close with, you’re the only one I want near me." He breathed, he looked tired.

"Do you really mean it?" You said.

"Of course, I would strangle Luther if he tried to remotely give me a side hug let alone hold my hand or any of the stuff you do…plus your touch is softer" you felt your cheeks flush at that. Five took your hand onto his and brought you close.

"Only you can be this close, understood?" He said.

"If you say so…but if you yell at me again like that I’m beating you up" you pouted but he only chuckled.

"Fair enough."

[bringthekaos]

Jayce accidentally taking Viktor's pain meds and 47 minutes later he is zoned out to the next plane of existence like ( °__°)

I can definitely see this happening, in the early days before they’ve really cemented each other’s routines and patterns. Jayce keeps some mild painkillers in the lab for his headaches (you know, the ones he gets because he stays up until 3am and drinks exclusively coffee). They’ve got a big deadline coming up, so they’ve been going going going, pretty much nonstop for several days—switching off dozing on the cot in the corner for an hour or two here and there, and then getting right back to work.

Jayce gets one of his headaches late one afternoon, and in his sleep-deprived delirium, he just blindly reaches for the bottle on the desk and pops one dry. If he were more alert, he might have noticed the unfamiliar shape, the texture which is much grainier than it should be. But as it is, he just gets back to work…

For about half an hour, when the words on the chalkboard start to double up, and his hand is so tingly he keeps dropping the chalk. He takes a step back, thinking maybe it’s just the sleep deprivation finally catching up to him, but this feels… different. He feels drunk and disoriented, and he’s definitely not going to get any work done like this. So he slurs a quick “m’gunna take a break,” and slinks over to his chair, plopping down in it with not an ounce of grace.

And within ten minutes, he’s in the fucking stratosphere.

Viktor doesn’t immediately notice, as he just kept working when Jayce said he was taking a break. But when he posits a question and receives a suspiciously cat-like sound in return, he spins around and finds Jayce poured over his chair like a being of far fewer bones.

And it hits him—his eyes dart to Jayce’s desk, where Viktor realizes he accidentally set down his bottle of painkillers when last he took them.

First he lets loose the equivalent of George Carlin’s seven dirty words you can’t say on television in his native tongue, then he gets to work—he fetches Jayce a glass of water and forces him to sit up and drink at least half of it. He wets a washrag and runs it over Jayce’s forehead and the back of his neck. And after an astronomical amount of struggle, he gets Jayce onto his feet and guides him, uncoordinated and stumbling over to the cot, apologizing profusely the whole way, even though he knows Jayce is tripping balls and likely won’t remember a thing Viktor is saying. But he still apologizes, because he feels awful—this is his fault, he set his bottle down on the wrong desk in his exhaustion.

Viktor ends up having to finish a majority of the presentation on his own, while Jayce recovers. He sleeps a little of it off, but he also spends a decent amount of time talking absolute gibberish and writing several pages of nonsense in his journal. But eventually it starts to wear off, and Jayce slowly gets back to work.

They both learn a lot from the experience—namely to be more vigilant with where they set things, and what they’re picking up. But Jayce also learns a lot about his partner—he now understands why Viktor has to take a small break about an hour after he takes his medication, why he gets sluggish and lethargic. He also realizes why Viktor typically gets a little quiet and unresponsive in that time—his brain is fighting the fog, but it can only fight one battle at a time.

So he vows to make a routine of it—taking breaks when Viktor does, giving him some peace and quiet for a few minutes as he levels out. And eventually, it’s a story they can laugh at—reminiscing on those early days when that practiced waltz around each other in the lab was more like a toddler dancing on their father’s feet. It’s also when Viktor starts teasing him about being a lightweight, and that’s a joke that survives well into their divorce era.

[weziu]

When Neil looked up he saw his reflection, and instinctively recoiled. It was almost comical, the way he moved in that moment, and he wondered for a second after if a bystander noticed him and laughed. His arms tensed up, his eyes widened, and his entire body flew backwards like someone pushed him hard enough to fall. He was lucky that he didn't spill the coffee, lucky especially because it was too expensive for its worth, but Andrew liked this cafe more than he'd like to admit.

Neil tested himself, sometimes. He straightened again in his seat and stared straight ahead. if he let his eyes rest, his vision blur, he could see past the glass, could see the bystanders that walked by in a hurry, or the dogs that stopped to bark at each other, or the way that the leaves hanging from the trees swayed in the wind. But this was one of those times. Neil let his vision focus on his target, let his picture gain shape, slowly, on the surface.

It came together, broken.

Neil Josten can not exist without his past. Despite that, he sometimes wishes that he could forget it. Was there any reason, really, for the scars that litter his face? What is he when you peel this all off, let the rawness of his heart speak instead? The lines on his face felt like broken puzzle pieces. His blue eyes, a monster, a certain death. Maybe these reasons are why his reflection scared him - he could not see his face without seeing what once was, what once happened, what he ran away from for so long, and when he tested himself, he wanted to see how much of that will to run away he still has left. How much of the deep learnt instinct still flowed in his veins.

Andrew's coffee burnt his tongue when he took a sip. From his left, a bell rang. Footsteps that he'd recognize everywhere got closer, but he still looked towards the noise, just to look. Andrew's hazel eyes glowed under the yellow, warm lightning of the small place. He glanced at the table, and frowned.

"How long have you been here?"

"Hmmmm." Neil answered.

"Is my coffee cold?"

Andrew sat down. Neil pushed the cup towards him. Andrew touched it and nodded in something like satisfaction. Neil looked at every line that made Andrew's face, and wondered if Andrew sometimes tests himself, too. How often.

"It's cold outside," Neil looked away, overwhelmed. "I didn't bring my coat."

"Of course you didn't." The weight of Andrew's gaze almost made Neil give in to his bottomless feelings. "I told you to check the weather."

The window stared back at him. The world outside seemed miles away from his reflection. From his world. Two dimensions, unfamiliar. They don't touch. Not often.

Andrew took a sip from his too-sweet coffee. Neil's tongue burnt, but Andrew gulped the drink down with ease and closed his eyes in appreciation, or maybe for a moment of disconnect. Neil put his hand on the table. Andrew reached out to meet him halfway. Their hands didn't touch, not really. It was a simple poke of fingers against each other, an awkward thing they studied how to do. Few fingers overlapped each other. The world, again, seemed far away, but in a comfortable way, now. Neil's body relaxed for the first time since he sat down here. Tension left his body, slowly. It was warm, he realized. Warmth surrounded him.

He thought of people, and wind, and dogs. Of his dad and his knives, and almost laughed with the shock of it all. Dimensions, parallel, but they meet somewhere, even if he can't experience it fully. Andrew. His friends. The cigarette packs he hid from Kevin, the sun, sometimes, or the way it lands on Andrew. There was still a barrier between what he knew and what the rest of the world did, but right here, in this cafe, sitting with Andrew in silence and watching him sip his coffee, pushing back the less pleasent memories, leaving the cold for later, he thought that maybe his dimension isn't so bad. He survived so far.

ao3 link

[morningberriesao3]

MWMD - Hold Me Close

Steve Harrington X Virgin!Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve can't keep living on Wayne’s couch. So Eddie makes him an offer.

Word Count: 4K

Chapter: 3 of 6 CHAPTER LIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Content Warnings: Explicit m/m sexual content including… Virgin Eddie Munson, Dry Humping, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Minor Crossdressing (ahem, EDDIE WEARS A G-STRING), Oh no they’re both tops?! what will they do!!?!, Top Steve Harrington, Power Bottom Eddie Munson, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Nipple Clamps, Under-Negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex, Creampie. Underage Drinking and Recreational Drug Use.

Tags: Eddie Munson lives, 5 + 1 Things, slow burn, POV Eddie Munson, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Slow Burn, Sexual Tension, Caretaking, Massages, Sharing a Bed, House Party, Play Flighting, Bros Being Bros (JK it’s very homoerotic), Halloween, Boys in Makeup, Independence Day, New Years Eve, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending

Many Ways, Many Days, to Say ‘I Love You’

MAY 18th, 1986

Steve continues to walk around the trailer with a pained look on his face, stretching and popping his back, kneading at it with his fingers, swallowing Tylenol with his morning coffee. And he continues to refuse to go back home to his own bed.

“Seriously, Munson. Not another peep from you.”

Eddie has been trying for the last half hour to convince Steve that he’ll survive overnight on his own. He’s rarely in pain anymore and he has some pretty good drugs from the doctor that he can pop if it becomes too much (although he’s been frugal, storing most of them in his little metal drug box because prescription pain meds can go for like, five bucks a pill).

“Your back has been fucked up for days, man.” Eddie puts his hands on his hips and briefly thinks about how he’s been spending so much time with Steve that he’s now adopting his mannerisms. He switches to crossing his arms over his chest instead. “You’re literally in worse shape than me now. Go home.”

Steve sighs, shrugging his vest for Family Video on overtop of a pink polo. He kind of looks like a lollipop that Eddie wants to lick. “Can I level with you, dude?”

Eddie isn’t expecting the look he receives from Steve. Up through his lashes, soft, maybe a bit embarrassed. Definitely a little timid. Eddie nods.

“I don’t really want to go home.” Steve watches as Eddie takes in the information. He furrows his brows a bit, because who wouldn’t want to go back to a four-bedroom, two-level, mini-mansion with a swimming pool, to slum it on the ancient couch inside of a cramped trailer? “I know it’s like, a lot to ask. If I can stay here. I just – this feels like home. More than my place ever did.”

Eddie gapes at him.

“But I can leave if you want me to. I know this was supposed to be – um – temporary.”

“No,” he says slowly, squinting his eyes at Harrington like he has fine print written on his face that might give Eddie more insight. “You’re telling me you want to be here, and not at your place? Not just to like, take care of me?”

Steve nods, chewing on his lip on one side.

“Why?”

Steve raises his shoulders and lets them drop back down. “I don’t get along with my parents.”

“Shit, really?”

Eddie knows all about that. He left the home he used to live in with his folks to move in with uncle Wayne. Of course, it was because they had figured out that Eddie was gay when they saw him kiss another boy on the cheek on Valentines Day. God forbid. Eddie didn’t know it was wrong at the time, but he sure figured it out pretty quickly when his parents shamed him about it everyday for the next year. He was sure Steve would never have to deal with that, but yeah, he knows what it’s like to have shitty parents.

Steve just kind of shrugs it off, like he’s marinated with the idea for long enough that it no longer phases him. “Yeah. But, like I said, I don’t want to be a nuisance or anything.”

“You’re not a nuisance.” Eddie feels kind of bad, if he made Steve feel unwelcome by trying to get him to go home. He just assumed that he’d want to leave and was taking pity on Eddie by staying. But who was he to say no if Steve liked it better in the trailer? “You can stay as long as you want, man. Wayne likes you here. This place has never been in better shape.”

It’s true. Steve has made it a bit of a routine – cleaning and patching holes and painting on his days off. Things that neither Eddie nor Wayne cared about or were capable of fixing. It was another thing that Eddie just assumed was pity, but he’s starting to learn that maybe it’s coming from a different place entirely.

Steve perks up, a bashful smile playing on his beautifully full lips.

Shit, not that Eddie is like, staring at them or anything.

“Yeah?” he asks, nudging Eddie a little too hard in the arm with his fist. Ex jock. Underestimates his own strength. “Like roommates for real?”

Eddie subtly rubs his upper arm. “Like roommates for real. On one condition.”

The excited expression wipes away from Steve’s face and is replaced by one of skepticism. “And what is that condition?”

“You take the bed.”

“No,” says Steve simply, quickly, shaking his head and grabbing his keys from the counter where he leaves them. “Nope. Nadda. Not a chance in Hell.”

“Harrington!” The trailer door swings open and slams shut behind Steve’s ridiculous (perfect) mousy brown hair before Eddie can even get a word in. He runs to unlatch the door, fumbling down the steps and onto the sharp gravel where he dances around on bare feet. “If you say no you have to go home!”

It’s an empty threat. Eddie would never kick Steve out – make him go back to his parents that he obviously doesn’t like – even if he wanted to couch-surf for the rest of his life. But Steve doesn’t need to know that.

“Well, that’s not happening,” Steve says, rounding the curve of the driveway to his shiny BMW, which sticks out like a sore thumb next to Eddie’s rust bucket that he calls a van. “I’m still a guest and I refuse to kick you out of your own goddamn bed. So I guess I’m going home.”

Eddie bristles. “For fuck’s sake, dude. What’s it gonna take?”

“You could offer me all the money in the world –” which Eddie finds hilarious because Steve already has it, “– and I still wouldn’t kick you out of your bed, Munson.” Steve folds himself into the driver’s seat of his car, turning the ignition and cranking the window down to smile up at Eddie. “Should I move out tonight, or do I have a grace period?”

Eddie knows that Steve is playing along. They are both stubborn in their own way, so arguing will probably be counterproductive. Perhaps a compromise is better.

“What if we share?”

The offer slips past his lips before he realises that – fuck – that’s really weird. He only has a double bed, which means there’s not much room. And even if there was – even if he had one of those California Kings that he’s only seen in magazines – guys don’t just share beds platonically.

He opens his mouth to retract his offer, or maybe, somehow, turn it into a joke.

But Steve always has a way of surprising Eddie. Of making him nervous beyond compare. Of making him regret the things he says, and in this case, offers.

“Yeah, okay,” he says easily like it’s the most normal suggestion he’s ever heard. It makes Eddie’s eyes bug out from his face. “I want the side closest to the door.”

Steve’s window is rolled up and his car is backing from the driveway before Eddie’s coherent enough to form a response. Mostly because he never in a million years imagined himself sharing a bed with Steve Harrington (well, he imagined it, but he never thought it would come to fruition). Partly because, perfect, he likes the side closest to the window anyway.

It’s almost alarming how quickly Steve accepted the offer. No rebuttal. No counteroffers. Just a simple yes.

It’s enough to cloud Eddie’s mind with questions like ‘what does that mean?’ and ‘what did I just do?’ as he frantically strips his bed and washes the sheets and the blankets. He even puts the fluffiest pillow on Steve’s side (oh God, Steve has a side), because he’s nice like that. Also because the flatter pillow is about a decade old and Eddie doesn’t want Steve’s face pressed into the place he’s been drooling his whole life while he’s trying to sleep.

Well, fuck, maybe he does?

Steve only has a five-hour shift, and Eddie spends the entire time cleaning his mess nervously, like Steve hadn’t been in his room that very morning, wading through the piles of both dirty and clean laundry on the floor. He clears out the top shelf of his dresser because Steve has been living out of a suitcase and it was about time that ended.

It all feels very domestic. And a little embarrassing, because he didn’t think the first time he moved into a single bedroom with someone he’d still be under the same roof as uncle Wayne.

None of that really matters though, because Steve and Eddie will only be sharing a bed in the most innocent sense of the phrase. There will be no canoodling. It’s kind of sad, but it’s the only fact that keeps Eddie from having an actual panic attack.

Two bros, sharing a bed. As they do.

Maybe it would be easier if Steve had never seen Eddie naked. If his fingers had never grazed Eddie’s junk. Maybe it would be easier if Eddie hadn’t been squeezing the shit out of the soft flesh that covers Steve’s hips just a few days ago. If he didn’t explicitly remember exactly what that felt like. Maybe it would be easier if he hasn’t gotten into the habit of panting Steve’s name right before he comes, in the very bed they’ll now be sharing.

For actual, literal, Christ’s sake.

He just hopes that he doesn’t do something stupid in his sleep, like try to make out with him or something. If that’s even something people accidently do in their sleep.

Every thought Eddie has ever had leaves his head when he hears the slam of Steve’s car door outside of the trailer. It’s impossible that it’s been five hours, but when he looks at his alarm clock, he’s proven wrong.

He can’t help but wonder if maybe it’s all too much – that it’s weird he cleared out part of his dresser and made up the bed as nice as he could manage. But there was no going back now.

“Hey, man,” Steve says as he swings open the trailer door like he really does consider it home. “What’s that smell?”

Oh, another thing. Eddie sprayed his room down with lavender fabric refresher. It’s supposed to help you sleep, and Eddie feels like he might need all the help he can get in that department. Maybe then he won’t stay up to stare at Steve all curled up next to him.

“Nothing. Uh, just laundry detergent.” It’s kind of the truth, so it works. “How was work?”

“You know, stressful as always. Rewinding people’s returns is really taxing stuff.”

“So I hear. I don’t know how you manage, day in and day out and day in…” Eddie drones on dramatically. “That’s why I’m – what do they call it? – an entrepreneur. Totally self employed, baby. Short hours, all profit –”

Steve snorts as he unpeels his banana. “Yeah. You’re rolling in the dough.”

“I do well for myself!” Eddie snaps, mocking offense. “Plus, I don’t have to pay taxes on my income.”

“And that’s not even the most illegal part about it.” Steve cocks an eyebrow.

“C’mon, Harrington, live on the edge a little bit. I’m sure Mr. Reagan will live without my yearly input of fifty dollars and ninety-two cents.”

“Stick it to the man!” Steve shouts, jabbing his banana in the air and twisting it like a knife. It’s actually kind of hot. “Right?”

“You’re learning,” Eddie says, trying to hide the fact that he’s flustered over fruit weapons. Steve could wield anything and it would be attractive. Like a frying pan, or a brass candelabra. But using his bare hands (and teeth) in the Upside Down was arguably the hottest thing Eddie had ever seen. It was that moment that really sealed the deal for him. When his crush from junior year turned into something a bit more… real.

“So, I was thinking,” Steve starts, rustling through a bag that Eddie hadn’t even noticed he’d carried in. He pulls out a VHS tape – “Critters. It looks dumb but I think you’d like it.”

He inspects the front cover, littered with little monsters with sharp teeth and bold, red lettering for the title. “That’s kind of insulting.”

“You like dumb movies.” Steve shrugs. “Like Labyrinth, and Rocky Horror –”

“Do not slander Tim Curry!” This time, Eddie’s offense is a little bit more genuine. “He’s sacred and I will not stand for it in this house.”

“Whatever.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Anyway. I thought we could watch this really amazing looking movie, and order in Chinese or pizza or something?”

Eddie pretends to think about it for a minute. “Did you bring snacks?”

The bag rustles again as Steve does more digging. He holds out a couple packages of candy. “Twizzlers and M&Ms.”

“Popcorn?”

“There’s already some in the cupboard.”

“Hmm.” Eddie scratches his chin. Steve rolls his eyes, waiting patiently for Eddie’s obvious answer. “You got yourself a deal.”

“Cool,” Steve says, heading to Eddie’s (their?) bedroom. “Wow, dude. You can see your floor.”

Eddie blushes and shrugs it off as coolly as he can manage.  

Steve turns to him, pointing to the badly made bed. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

It’s not shocking to Eddie how obvious it was that he dejunked because of their earlier conversation. He kind of wishes there was a little bit more mystery in it, but he probably hasn’t tidied since 1984, so why else would he have done it today? “It needed to be cleaned anyway.”

‘Cleaned’ is a very loose term for what Eddie did, but at least it’s leaps and bounds better than it was when he woke up.

“It looks good.” Steve throws himself onto the bed that he’ll be sleeping on tonight (with Eddie, oh my God). He kind of rolls to the centre of it where it’s sunken. It’s an old mattress. “Smells good, too. Lavender?”

“Yeah.” Eddie chews on his lip, staring at how big Steve looks on the double mattress. All sprawled and consuming. He wonders how they’ll both fit on there, and it dawns on him just how close they’ll have to be.

Not that he minds, like, at all.

“That’s why,” Steve says in a way that makes it seem like he’s answering a question he’s asked in his head a million times. Internal and without explanation. It makes Eddie a bit nervous, like maybe he should be embarrassed about something if Steve’s been thinking about it.

“That’s why, what?”

“Why you always smell like lavender,” he explains, tucking his arms behind his head. “I always thought it was an oil or something, but I never saw one in the bathroom. But it’s just your bed.”

“I smell like lavender?”

“Yeah. When you don’t reek of pot and menthols.”

And the warm feeling that Eddie was experiencing is gone.

“Shut up,” he says, kicking at Steve’s foot that’s hanging from the end of the bed. “Are we watching the movie or not?”

That’s exactly what they do, popping popcorn and tossing it in a ridiculous amount of melted butter and salt. Eddie holds the bowl in his lap and each time Steve reaches over for a handful he can’t help but let his mind wander a little bit. Not that he’s a pervert or anything. It’s just been a really long time since another guy has been reaching into his lap for any reason. A really long time, as in a couple of years, and even then it was just the once.

They pause the movie halfway through when the food is delivered, which is fine because the movie is shit. But Steve’s right, it’s shit in the way that Eddie loves. The way where he’s laughing instead of jumping at the scenes that are meant to be scary.

Either way, he’s smiling by the time the credits roll and so is Steve.

“It was like Gremlins, but less scary.”

“Less scary?” Eddie asks. “You find Gremlins scary?”

“They’re pretty scary, dude.” Steve gets up from the couch and stretches, exposing a strip of skin that Eddie definitely doesn’t stare at. “Why do you think I call the kids gremlins? Terrifying.”

Eddie snorts at that, pointedly making eye contact instead of letting them drop lower (again). “Those brats are worse than any horror movie.”

“You’re telling me,” says Steve, picking up the empty dishes from the coffee table and carrying them the short distance to the sink. He washes them quickly, then dries them, and places them back into the cupboard where they belong. If it had been Eddie, they would have been left in the sink until the morning, or maybe until the next afternoon. If Steve stays much longer, Wayne is going to expect Eddie to start upping his game. “Bedtime?”

Eddie checks his watch and it’s only just past 9pm. But Steve looks at him so expectantly that he finds himself nodding. And truthfully, there are way worse things that laying next to Steve in his bed before he falls asleep.

They do their normal routine, brushing their teeth and their hair. Steve uses a fancy cleanser on his skin that he forced Eddie to never tell anyone about (“I have skin problems if I don’t use it, okay?”), and Eddie just uses a bar of glycerine soap. The cheapest kind from the general store. Maybe that’s why Eddie still gets pimples on his chin at the ripe age of twenty.

When they get to Eddie’s room, he can’t help but stand awkwardly and wonder what the hell he’s supposed to wear to bed. He’s usually a boxers only type of guy, but Steve has always worn sweats and a t-shirt when he’s sleeping on the couch. Eddie doesn’t even own sweatpants, but he might have a pair of PJ pants that he got from Uncle Wayne one Christmas shoved to the back of one of his drawers. They have a pattern of little frogs playing guitars and that’s just fucking embarrassing to wear in front of a guy like Steve Harrington.

He doesn’t have to wonder for long, because Steve starts stripping himself down to a single layer. Eddie averts his eyes as heat radiates into his chest and cheeks. Maybe now it would be extra weird if he just wore his boxers to bed. Since, like, Steve was already doing it.

“It’s nice to finally ditch those sweatpants,” Steve says, kicking his jeans ungracefully from one of his feet. “It gets unbearably hot at night.”

“Yeah. I mean, you could have – you didn’t have to –” Eddie struggles to find the right words. “No one would have blamed you for ditching them, man.”

“I know. It would just be a little awkward to have my junk almost out in front of your uncle.” Steve points to his crotch as if Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And when he does, Eddie’s eyes flick downwards.

Who can blame him? Steve just drew attention to it.

And yeah, his dick is clothed, but he’s only wearing these tiny tighty-whities that really leave, like, zero up to the imagination. Eddie can see the angle that Steve’s dick is resting at in his briefs. And he can tell that he’s – well – he’s circumcised. And even though Steve’s dick is soft, it’s um. Ample. Thick. And – and…

Jesus Christ.

Steve crawls into Eddie’s bed – the side closest to the door, with the fluffy pillow. “You good?”

Eddie’s brain is moving about as fast as a sloth in sand – meaning not very fast at all. So he says, “Act cool,” aloud, because that’s what he’s thinking. And then he smacks his palm to his forehead and says, “I mean, I’m cool. I’m all good,” like that might fix his blunder, even though it very much does not.

“Well, cool.” Steve says, smiling. “Are you gonna stand there all night, or are you coming to bed?” He pats the comforter next to him.

Eddie squeaks a noise that really doesn’t sound like him at all. He resents his vocal chords for betraying him at a time like this. He strips down to his boxers and is really thankful that they’re a lot looser than Steve’s briefs. Because he’s slightly chubbed, and Steve had seen his dick enough times that he’d know.

He crawls into the sheets, trying to keep a healthy distance between him and Steve. But Steve is fucking manspreading onto Eddie’s half of the mattress, so his thigh and shoulder ends up pressed against Steve’s skin anyway.

It’s not helping his little situation. His dick kicks up disobediently. Thank fuck Eddie is under the cover of a blanket.

“Geez, man. Move over,” he says, not because he doesn’t like it, but because he likes it a little too much.

“I can’t help it!” Steve wiggles a couple of inches away, but not enough to stop himself from touching Eddie. “Your bed is small, Munson.”

“Would you prefer a king-sized mattress for the king himself? I’m sorry you must reduce yourself to a double, my liege. How will you survive?”

“Shut up, man.” Steve smacks Eddie. Eddie smacks Steve right back, a little harder. “Ouch! It doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t control where I end up once I’m sleeping.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m a cuddler.”

“You’re telling me that now?” Eddie pretends to be horrified, even though the thought of being cuddled up next to Steve is admittedly wonderful. “That’s it. I’m retracting your invitation.”

“Too late. Are you big spoon or little spoon?” Steve asks, but before Eddie has the chance to respond (which would have been a load of bullshit, because how is he supposed to know when he’s never been cuddled?), he says, “Doesn’t matter. I’m always big spoon.”

“Does that mean I’m gonna wake up to you plastered on my back?”

Steve shrugs, making the sheets under Eddie’s ear crinkle. “Better get used to the idea now.”

They banter back and forth like that for about an hour before Steve’s eyes get heavy and he finally gets consumed by sleep. Eddie stays awake for another couple after that, reading a few chapters from Return of the King (for the nineteenth time).

He only wakes up once that night, and lo and behold, Steve is wrapped around him like a koala bear. Only Eddie isn’t facing away from him – they are chest to chest. Nose to nose. More importantly, they are dick to dick. One of Steve’s legs is hiked up on top of Eddie’s, which is lodged between Steve’s thighs. Steve is pinning him down with an arm securely circled around Eddie’s shoulders. Their goddamn noses are touching. Steve is breathing into Eddie’s mouth, and it takes everything inside Eddie to refrain from sticking his tongue out to taste Steve’s lips.

But Eddie would like to reiterate that he is not a pervert.

Instead, he readjusts the best that he can (because he definitely has a boner that is definitely pressed up underneath Steve’s cock). It doesn’t help much, so he tries his hardest to keep still. Because each brush of Steve against his dick, however light, sends a thrill into his core that makes him impossibly harder than he was a minute ago. And if Steve wakes up, if Steve feels Eddie pressed into him, nearly nestled between his glorious thighs…

So Eddie practices mindful breathing. He lets himself fall back asleep after twenty excruciating minutes, still with an erection that he can’t force away. Because really, it would be rude to move out of Steve’s grasp and wake him up from such a peaceful looking slumber.

And if waking up like that becomes another strange habit over the following days – weeks – Eddie isn’t going to mention it. Of course he’s not.

Because neither is Steve.

NEXT CHAPTER

MASTERLIST

SOCIALS

[parkersbliss]

3:1 Ratio | S. Strange

pairing: dr. strange x female reader

wc; 3K

warnings; sexual innuendo, maybe swearing? fast paced and stephen being cocky

synopsis; the three times dr strange saved you and the one time you saved him

a/n: had too much fun writing this lmao

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt list

—

— ONE

It was a well-known fact that New York was a hot spot for superheroes and supervillains. In fact, it was a common occurrence to wake up to your car smashed to pieces and explain to insurance, “No, this isn’t my fault! It was the purple alien dude.”

Honestly, some people moved to New York just because they liked the thrill of almost dying — or the chance to hook up with one of the heroes.

You didn’t care for either. Rather, you liked the aesthetic of budding coffee shops, high fashion, and maybe the occasional hero.

Now, that certainly didn’t prompt this.

When you ordered your coffee this morning, you had intended on drinking it. The world, it seemed, had other plans. Mere seconds after you were handed your drink, someone came flying through the glass, and your drink was not spared. Whoever it was managed to crash right into you, but with a quick flick of their hand, keeping you both upright. That is after the coffee spilled.

“I’m so sorry about that miss,” He apologized, and you just shake your head.

“It’s fine,” You assure, finally looking up. To your surprise, you find that Dr. Strange is a rather good-looking man. In fact, you never noticed his striking blue eyes or the curve of his nose. And now that you realize you notice these things, maybe you’re standing a little too close together.

The sorcerer claps his hands, and the coffee disappears from both of your clothes. He opens his mouth to say something more when whatever is chasing him starts shooting. He immediately grabs you and hides you behind him, using the cape as a shield.

You watch in slow motion as Dr. Strange spreads his hands and orange sparks fly from between them.

“Like what you see?” He asked.

You’re quick to quip back. “Liked you better when there wasn’t a space alien shooting at us.”

“Once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

“Yeah, I wonder why.”

Dr. Strange chuckles before lassoing the alien in a few quick motions and stepping away from you. He opens a portal, pushing the creature through before flying away to take care of the rest. Now, maybe you imagined it, but you could’ve sworn he looked back at you for a second. Not that it mattered, he was probably just surveying the scene of the coffee shop.

Your favorite coffee shop which was now going to be closed for quite a while, given the damage. You huff, so much for superheroes.

— TWO

“Come on!” You shouted to no one in particular. You pressed on your horn again, trying to see around the car in front of you. There seemed to be no end to the traffic. You couldn’t think of a reason for traffic at this time either. It was way past rush hour and a Tuesday night. Where could all these people be going?

You frown, about to get out of your car, when something slams into you from behind. You jolt forward, feeling your head smack against the steering wheel.

You groan, holding it in your hands, about to turn around and confront the reckless driver when you see it.

An octopus crossed with an eyeball, grabbing people's cars and throwing them off the bridge. You panic, grabbing the handle of the door and pushing hard. Fortunately, it gives way, and you get out and run. Of course, you’re not the only one with this idea, and you quickly run into the problem of many car doors opening and many people moving. You can hear the thing getting closer, and you’re pretty sure the car next to you is next. Your heart slams into your chest as you spin around, looking for an escape. Option one was you could jump off the bridge, and while that would warrant an escape, it would not ensure your survival and that was kind of the goal. Option two was to run back where you came from and hope you don’t look too much like octopus food today. You don’t have time to make that decision though.

In an instant, one of its tentacles comes sweeping across your feet, and you scream, running back towards your car. It seems you peaked the creature's interest though, as it grabs you by your leg and lifts you into the air.

You scream and thrash in its grip, hitting its slimy arms and trying not to gag at the giant eye.

“Please,” You whimper as it pulls you closer.

Death by giant eyeball was not your plan.

You screw your eyes shut when its blinking eye is right in front of your face. Almost like it’s sizing you up for dinner.

Then, there’s the sickening sound of something being cut, and you’re free-falling back down towards the bridge. Almost as fast, something grabs you and lurches you back into the air.

You’re suspended above the bridge, a red cape wrapped around your shoulders and slowly lowering you towards the ground.

“Oh my god,” You gasp when your feet touch the ground.

And then you’re doubled over, emptying your stomach, when a hand grabs your hair to hold it back.

“Is it a mere coincidence that I’m saving your ass again?” A cocky voice asks.

Once you finish puking, you turn to face the sorcerer, frowning. “I just puked my guts out, and that’s what you open with?”

Honestly, you weren’t that annoyed, in fact, maybe your heart was racing for a different reason. There was no doubt you now find Dr. Strange to be a little bit more attractive than you remembered, but pile on that he remembers you from the coffee shop?

Oh yeah, the bar is low.

“Did you want me to comment on the color of your stomach contents?”

You sigh. “No.”

“Maybe a thank you is better,” He suggested with a grin.

You cross your arms over your chest defensively. “You are one cocky son of a bitch.”

Strange makes an “o” shape with his mouth, stepping back. “Got it. Next time I’ll let you get eaten by Mr. eyeball.”

“Don’t even think about it!” You shout as he goes to finish what he probably started.

“We’ve barely met, sweetheart,” He replies with a wink. “You’re acting like we’re best friends, and it’s my job to save you.”

You can’t admit the little ache you felt with that sentence, but you bounce back just as fast. “Oh, I didn’t know you thought so highly of me.”

Strange clicks his tongue; “If I have to save your cute little ass again, I’m supergluing you to my chair.”

“Did you just call my ass cute?” You shout, not offended in the slightest.

“You’re distracting me. Bye!” He calls out, and then he’s gone.

You laugh to yourself, still standing on the bridge. “I do have a cute ass.”

— THREE

You hadn’t seen Dr. Strange since. Not that it bothered you or anything. He was a superhero, and you were merely… you.

But maybe every now and then, you imagined him rescuing you again and asking for your name since you knew his. That was a foolish thought, though. It wasn’t like you had a silly little crush on the sorcerer. Besides, even if you did, Strange was out saving millions of people every day. You doubted he’d even remember you now. You doubted you were on his mind as much as he was yours. The first time he recalled you was probably just luck. And it had been weeks since, so he’s seen plenty of other people and probably cuter asses.

You let out a sigh, digging through your bag and grabbing the key to your apartment. You knew better than to expect anything from the hero. You’d heard enough from Christine about him before. He was arrogant, as much as surgeons were. Yet, somehow, she still spoke of him fondly. She held nothing against him and said, “I hope he’s happy.”

You admired her for that, even after the harsh words he said to her after the accident. You weren’t around then yet, having moved to New York after the blip.

You open the glass door to your apartment complex’s lobby, absentmindedly looking around. The door shuts behind you with a soft click, and you continue towards the elevators. Your finger hovers over the button before the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You whip your head toward the glass doors and watch as some creature thing falls from the sky and lands right in front of the complex.

Almost immediately, the screaming starts, and you frantically start jamming the elevator button, just in case that thing wakes up.

It, of course, does and begins screeching. As soon as it does, ropes of orange shoot out and grab its arms. The creature cries out, its gangly limbs flying around, and within seconds, an individual with a red cape is at your feet.

You scream, jumping back and almost tripping over your own feet. Strange stands up, brushing off his coat, and with a tilt of his head, sends two spells the creature's way. Its tentacles fly out, and you gasp when the spell cuts right through them. Squelching sounds fill the room as they land on the tile floor, still withering. Now, you’d seen a lot of gross things in your life (thanks to your job), but this still somehow ranked in the top ten. The creature screams out, and Strange rolls his eyes as more tentacles start flying towards you.

You duck out of instinct, only to find that Strange had cut that arm off too.

He merely scoffs, sparring one look at you. “Oh, come on now, you couldn’t possibly think I was gonna let this thing take you out, did you?”

“Like you said it’s not like I’m your best friend or anything.”

Strange shrugs. “And yet, I’m on this streak of saving your ass. Wouldn’t wanna ruin what I’m best at.”

You open your mouth to give your own witty reply when the creature surges forward. “Strange, look out!”

You’re a second too late, and the arms grab him and discard him like a child would a toy once bored. Strange’s body collides with yours, and you both go rolling across the white tile, the cape trying to cushion your fall. Strange lands on top of you with a huff, and you just stare back, wide-eyed in disbelief.

“You know, there’s typically an exchange of formalities before this point, but I don’t mind,” He winks.

“You can’t be serious,” You reply, trying to roll out from under him.

“But I am. Listen, if you’re gonna be under me, you might as well tell me your name, so I know what to—,”

“(Y/N),” You cut him off, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “It’s (Y/N) (L/N).”

You blink, and Strange lifts off of you with a smirk and offers his hand. “(Y/N), how lovely to meet you.”

You step back as soon as another tentacle comes flying between the two of you.

“If you’re done trying to get into my pants, you could kill this thing!” You shout, jumping back again.

Strange frowns. “And here I was thinking the fun was just beginning.”

You don’t have a reply because Strange has the creature in a hold, and suddenly it vanishes into nothing. Well, if nothing was a pile of black steaming goo.

“You couldn’t have done that sooner?”

The sorcerer shrugs. “I wouldn’t have gotten your name if I had.”

“You did all this for my name?” You asked in disbelief.

You don’t get the courtesy of an answer as Strange walks through one of his portals with a shit-eating grin. “See you around, (Y/N).”

“Stephen—!” You scream, met with sparks and a very damaged front lobby.

You stomp your foot on the ground out of frustration. First the coffee shop and now your home? You just hope next isn’t your heart.

Although, you’re not sure if you’d be mad if that was the case…

— ONE

“Oh, it’s bad,” Christine said with a giggle.

You swatted her away with a frown. “It’s so not!”

“It so is,” She replied. “You have a crush on my ex, Dr. Strange!” She howls with laughter, and you’re thankful she’s not mad yet, not amused with the teasing.

“Tell the whole hospital, would you?” You whisper shout, glancing around to see if anyone heard.

“And he’s soooooo into you,” Christine said, nudging your shoulder.

You feel your face heat up. “You think so?”

“(Y/N), I dated that man. I know.”

“And it’s not weird?”

She shakes her head with a smile, flashing you with her ring. “Not a problem at all. Two hotheads, perfect for each other. Should I also add arrogant surgeons to the list?"

You roll your eyes at her. “I’m not arrogant—”

“Just confident,” Christine finished for you. “I know. Probably why he likes you so much.”

“Really?”

“I mean that or he wants a piece of that hot, sexy body or that cute little—”

“Okay,” You said with a clap. “I’ll see you on break.”

“If you’re not screwing him in a supply closet, that is!” Christine calls out, disappearing down the hall.

“Christine!”

You could hear her laugh as she rounded the corner. You shake your head, not denying that wouldn’t be the worst scenario. You return to your post in the ER, consulting all the patients. Everything appeared to be under control, no need for emergency surgery. You smile at the charge nurse, double-checking that she doesn’t have anything incoming before saying you’re gonna see if they need help in general. She nods, promising to page you if someone comes in. You’re just about to leave, hand on the door, when there’s a crash and people start shouting.

“Dr. (L/N)!”

You rush over, dropping to your knees next to the patient. Madi, the charge nurse, begins shouting orders demanding a stretcher from Dr. Belfar and any other free people.

You place two fingers on the patient's pulse point, before shouting, “Code blue! I need a code team, now!”

The patient had landed on their back, and you flip them over to begin CPR when a gasp leaves your lips. It was Strange.

“Dr. (L/N)?” Dr. Belfar asked.

You shake your head. “Nothing. Just not every day you see a hero in the ER.”

With one hand laced over the other, you straighten your arms and start CPR. You try not to panic, recalling that Strange was a sorcerer and there was no possible way he was going to die. You get to thirty right as the code team arrives, letting them take over.

“External bleeding, possible fibula fracture. We need an ultrasound to check for internal bleeding in the abdomen and an x-ray. Does anyone know what happened?”

Belfar shakes his head. “No, he just walked in and collapsed.”

“Clear!” One of the members of the code team shouts. You watch, in anticipation, as they deliver the shock and wait a few seconds.

There’s a beep, and you exhale in relief. “Sinus rhythm returned. I want those tests now!”

You help get Strange on a stretcher and wheel him into one of the trauma bays as a nurse grabs the ultrasound and another goes to get the emergency x-ray equipment. The nurse cuts through Strange’s clothes, squirting gel on his abdomen before handing you the ultrasound. His stomach is rock hard, and you can see the blood pooling in on the screen. Meanwhile, the nurse got an x-ray of his leg, confirming the fracture. “He has a perforated bowel! Move him up to surgery now and call ortho for his leg. They’ll have to wait.”

The nurse nods, punching a number into the phone to get you an OR.

“Belfar, with me! Let’s move.”

The next few minutes blur together as you rush upstairs and grab your surgical team before tagging in and getting ready. Strange lays on the table. His face is cut off, so you can only see what needs to be operated on. You nod to your team, taking your place next to the table.

“Scalpel,” You said, feeling the cool metal in your gloved hand. You take a deep breath to remind yourself this was like any other case you’d seen in the past. Never mind that this was Dr. Strange, protector of Earth’s reality. And never mind the fact that you had a huge crush on him. What mattered now was pulling him through this surgery.

You, of course, have performed this one many times in New York, so you were confident in your abilities for Strange to make a full recovery, but things could always go wrong, and that fact seemed to bug you much more now.

“I must say I wouldn’t have thought it would turn out this way,” a voice said. You scream, backing away only to find you didn’t move. But that wasn’t the weird part. No, the weird part was that you could see yourself.

You could see the thin line of blood that escaped as you cut into Strange’s abdomen and the steady movement of your hands.

“What the hell is this?” You whisper, turning to face the ghostly-looking Dr. Strange in the corner.

“Astral projections,” He said simply. “I figured it was best to not scare you while you save my life.”

“It was about time I repay you the favor.”

“Indeed, Dr. (L/N),” He smirks at you, flying forward. “So since we have some time to kill, I was wondering what else do I not know about you?”

You hum. “Well, you know where I live, my name, my job. What do you want to know?”

“The chances of me taking you on a date when I wake up.”

There’s a part of you that wants to say zero percent, just for the fun of it, but you don’t. There’s only one answer you can think of as you eye the sorcerer. “One hundred percent.”

Stephen raises his brows. “Did I make that lasting of an impression on the lady?”

You snort. “Oh, please. I just want your constant protection 24/7.”

“Ah,” Stephen tuts. “Good thing I’m a packaged deal.”

“Do the magic powers come with it?”

Stephen chuckles, “No, but you do get one free kiss coupon when I wake up. Consider it my thank you for saving my life.”

You smile, “Deal.”

— THE END —

🏷 dr strange taglist: @thelaststraw3

[henrioo]

Do you write for Rosinante and male reader? If so can you write about Rosinante finding out he likes men because of reader? If you don't you can just make it about your fav! or you can also make it gender neutral :)

✦ ── I'm not in love!: Donquixote Rosinante

Relationships: Rosi x Gn! Reader, Child! Law x Platonic! Rosi/Reader

Synopsis: It's clear that Rosi cares about you, after all you are friends! Just friends, right?

Warnings: None, just fights between Law and Cora and Cora jealous

Word Count: 2,2k

Notes: I made it gender neutral because I only write for them, I hope you don't mind, sorry for the delay! English is not my first language so please forgive any mistakes. If you can evaluate this style of design I'd appreciate it, I'm doing some tests :)

Revision: @waitingmydemons

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •

Rosi liked the cloudy, frosty mornings which were rare in Dressrosa, usually the tropical weather was warm enough to make you sweat even before sunrise. So having a change of weather after the rainy season was somewhat comforting, the place didn't exactly turn gray or dreary, it just got a little cooler and quieter. It seemed that the heat took with it the excitement of the island's civilians.

The point is, the man didn't exactly have a low immunity or anything like that, he dressed well and not even a drastic change could make him get the flu. Maybe it was the years of Marine training or the resistance created by the instinct to survive, it didn't really matter, the point was that he wouldn't get the flu. Why does it matter? See well...

Rosi was at that moment, it being too early for any of the children to be awake, carrying a dark brown fuzzy coat through the halls that he had bought in a store a few days ago when he realized that the weather was going to change. Next to that was a steaming mug of coffee, he walked calmly and silently through the palace corridors. If man didn't get sick, then who would these essential items be for in a change of climate? Oh yes... The answer can only be one: you.

You weren't fragile, far from it, but you weren't good with drastic weather changes. So when the blond man woke up and saw that the weather had changed he immediately thought of you, it wouldn't be a bad idea to grab a coat and a hot drink just to ensure your health, would it? He sighed as he looked out a window, his head light as countless thoughts raced through it. He hadn't even realized that he had stopped in front of your castle room, should he knock? Turn around and pretend nothing happened?

"You're doing it again" a small sleepy and all too familiar voice snapped him out of his cloud of thought. It was none other than little Law.

Cora looked confused at the boy without understanding what he was suggesting, the boy just sighed and shook his head in denial.

"You're taking too much care of (y / n)-san" he said with a certain harshness, in another situation Cora would joke that the boy was jealous, but at that moment he just wanted to understand what Law was assuming. "You still don't understand? You're too stupid" the boy said and crossed his arms.

If they were alone Cora could pretend to be hurt, but he couldn't risk that in the castle, so he just punched the boy in the head, as a light punishment.

"Ouch!" He caressed the bruised spot "You don't understand and I get it… Idiot" he whispered the last part "You really didn't notice?" Now Law seemed to be more willing to explain his thesis.

With Rosi's denial, the boy sighed again and then began to speak "Didn't you realize that your first thought of the day was to take care of them? You even bought this coat just for them! The first thing you did when you woke up was come here to deliver that!" He said louder with some anger.

Cora just shrugged, what was the problem with that? You were crewmates and lifemates, he should care about you, shouldn't he? Law seemed to get even more frustrated with the adult's cluelessness, so he snorted and spoke again.

"Didn't you realize you don't care that much about anyone else?" Now Rosi seemed to finally understand what he was implying, his cheeks flushed slightly "Seriously, everyone has already realized that you're in love with them… Well, everyone but you" he said with an evil smile.

Cora's eyes widened at the accusation, he wasn't in love with you! He just cared a lot, after all you lived together, it was the least he could do to have a good relationship with you! Not that he didn't find you very attractive and definitely a perfect match for a relationship, but that didn't mean anything! You were just friends!

"You're kind of pathetic…" Law sighed "At least do something about it, watching you walk after them like a stray puppy is depressing…" the boy said, yawned and then left for the corridors leaving the adult alone in his thoughts .

You were just friends, weren't you? Thoughts seemed confused and distorted… It wasn't like you acted any differently, of course, you usually spent hours talking, went on missions together, took care of the kids, sat next to each other at meals, you used to bandage Rosi, you were always exchanging gifts… But all friends did that, didn't they?

"Cora?" The adult jumped up and almost dropped his coffee mug on the floor when he heard your voice, then he turned around in a start and found you standing in the doorway of your room.

He tried to smile awkwardly, which elicited a low chuckle from you. But soon the smile disappeared from his face when he saw how you were dressed. You wore a long-sleeved shirt and not You were stiff and fuzzy pants, your hair was messy, and you had a sleepy smile and tired eyes. Your cheeks were a little red next to your nose, which confirmed Rosi's theory that you suffered from climate change.

The issue wasn't exactly how you looked, as to the man you would look beautiful even covered in blood, but what your looks were doing to him. His heart started to beat faster, he felt a heat rising in his stomach and his stomach lurched all over. You were so beautiful, so natural and so… he didn't even know what adjectives to use, homemade? Casual? Comfortable? Would you look so attractive next to him when the two of you wake up together on a cold morning? No! What kind of thoughts were those!?

"All good?" You asked upon seeing the man change, he then snapped out of his thoughts again and turned his attention to you.

He quickly agreed and then handed things over to you with some haste. You stared at the coat and coffee mug with some confusion.

"For me?" You had a shy smile. Cora nodded and saw you looking at the outfit with so much… love? His heart missed a beat, why did you look at that as if it were the most important thing in your life? "Thanks Cora… You always know what I need" you smiled at him and he swore he could be dead after all he was already seeing the sky "I promise I'll use it… And thanks for the coffee" with a low chuckle you closed the door and walked back to hide in the walls of your room.

The man took a deep breath when he realized he hadn't done that for so long, so he left the front of your room as quickly as possible. What was it? Why did he feel so confused and so sensitive around you? This... These feelings... Friends shouldn't feel this way, should they?

Breakfast was as lavish as ever, after all they were serving the king himself and his family, it made sense that the staff would want to go the extra mile. Rosi wasn't the type to eat a lot in the morning, he usually just drank his tea or coffee and waited until lunch to really have a decent meal. So he usually spent his time watching the children play with their food, listening to his brother's conversations with the other elders, and that was it. Usually he was good at maintaining the facade he'd built for years, the unbreakable, unshakable wall he liked to be known as.

But everything he had meticulously planned and created went down the drain when you walked into the dining hall. You wore the coat he had given you earlier and you were definitely looking perfect, you wore a cap that contrasted well with your hair color. You had red cheeks and your nose twitched slightly, you smiled and then greeted everyone. If he had to say something he would probably stutter and get lost, but the only action he could take was to spit out all the coffee when he was punched in the stomach by Law.

Everyone started laughing as he glared at the boy with a death glare, he also glared at him and then leaned closer to whisper.

"At least take it discreetly, idiot"

He bit his tongue at the thought that he might be acting suspiciously, wondering if anyone else had noticed that… You sat down next to Baby 5 and were playing with the little girl as you started to drink your own coffee. Cora decided that if he wanted to keep it natural he couldn't pay any more attention to you, so for the rest of the coffee he looked away and pretended he didn't even notice you at the table.

"Honestly, just ask them on a date" was the last thing Law said when everyone broke up at the end of breakfast.

A date? Like couples? But you weren't a couple… the thoughts hammered in his mind, he liked you a lot, but did he like you too much? With an expression of confusion he decided to go after you to find out if you had noticed anything different in your relationship. After all, you were extremely intelligent, maybe you understood the adult better than he did.

"Hm…thanks" He heard your nervous laugh and looked for you a little faster.

That's when he saw you and Trebol talking, his face was nervous and probably disgusted. The man was throwing himself at you and seemed to have a flirtatious tone. Cora's stomach lurched and he felt fire coursing through his veins, he didn't need to hear another word to act.

Quickly he grabbed your arm, you screamed in fright and stared at him confused. That's when he finally realized what he was doing, what right did he have to do this?

"Is everything okay cora?" You asked him with some trepidation.

Well, he had come this far, hadn't he? So taking his last dose of courage he simply grabbed you by the waist, threw it over his shoulder and ran. Trebol screamed in confusion demanding an answer and you screamed in fright as you clung to the man to keep from falling. Rosi's face burned with embarrassment and he just thought that you would never forgive him for acting like that.

When you were far away, in a hidden part of the castle's gardens, he finally put you down. Your hair was messed up and your cap had fallen out of the way, you were out of breath and you were staring at him with a mixture of anger, confusion and…gratitude?

"Cora! What the hell?!" You screamed and gave him a light slap on the chest, after which he started to take a deep breath trying to calm down.

Cora fidgeted with his hands nervously, how could he explain that whole situation? He didn't even know what was going on!

"Hey! Tell me!" You pressed him against the wall, he looked around nervously not wanting to explain "Come on, we're alone and you can talk now"

Sometimes he forgot that you knew about that detail. On a mission you decided to go with Cora and Law, in your case you wanted to do service to Doflamingo because you were part of his crew. Cora was already using the mission as an excuse to look for hospitals for Law, in the end you two ended up getting into a big mess that led Rosi to reveal that he could talk.

You even tried to find out why he hides it, he said he just got too nervous around other people. He wasn't an idiot either, you were loyal to Doflamingo for saving you and Rosi really didn't want to risk the bond you created by talking about his plan to take down his brother. So he just pretended he was too shy to speak in public.

"I… I didn't want to" he said nervously, he couldn't meet her eyes.

"Didn't want to do what? Kidnap me in the middle of a conversation?" You always teased him and now it just made him sink into a ball.

"Sorry," he muttered guiltily.

"Not really, Trebol is a pain in the ass" you laughed, you weren't mad at Cora, just confused "But that was… different I guess" you mused.

"Different?" he asked, confused.

"Yes, you've been different today, the way you look at me… If I didn't know better, I'd say you had a jealous fit with Trebol" you said smiling slyly at him, what you didn't expect was to see him cringing in embarrassment "Wait, I was kidding, are you jealous?"

"I… I don't like you talking to him" that wasn't a lie at all.

"Oh" you seemed to finally understand everything and smiled trying to reassure him "So I guess Law was right, you really are in love with me…"

"Yes, he probably is… What?!" He screamed in shock, had Law said that?

"Haha ha!" You burst out laughing "you should have seen your face… you are so cute" you admitted with red cheeks.

"(Y/n)..." He called you and you looked at him shyly.

"Yes?"

"Go out on a date with me, I like you" he finally managed to verbalize everything he felt.

"Took you long enough" you smiled at him.

[scullysexual]

You're Never Just Anything To Me (3)

@today-in-fic | ao3 | Prev. Chapter.

A look into Mulder and Scully's relationship starting from Millennium going all the way up to Requiem.

III. The Goldberg Variation.

The hot water cascades down her body from the shower. A relief from the bitter cold that awaits every other room. The space heater is waiting for her but she was starting to get tired dragging that thing from room to room. It’s fine, though, it’s just three more days. Three more days and then her heating will be fixed. Space heaters, hot drinks, electric blankets, and a shower will help her survive for three more days.

That is until the shower’s water runs cold. She’s partway through, hair soaked. She puts her hand in the water and it’s still cold. She turns the shower off, waits 30 seconds and turns it back on again. She waits for it to reheat itself. It stays cold.

Scully is shivering now, the cold biting at her exposed skin. Her shower ruined, she gives up and climbs out, wrapping the towel around her and camping as close to the space heater as possible.

…

There’s a call at 10:37pm. Mulder mutes the TV and looks at the time. It couldn’t be Scully, it was a Tuesday and she was very strict with her bedtime.

“Mulder,” he answer the phone.

“Hi.” It is Scully and Mulder sits up immediately, concern running through his body.

“Hi…Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She sounds different, there’s a stutter to her voice. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine…She wasn’t fine.

“Scully, what’s going on?”

“My heating is out and so’s my hot water. I just wanted a shower to warm up. I’m cold, Mulder. Really, really cold. Freezing.”

She wasn’t in danger. He sits back, relaxing. But she was cold.

“Can I come over?” she asks quietly. “I know it’s a Tuesday, I know I said it wasn’t allowed but…I don’t think I can stay here.”

“Of course, Scully.” Why did she even feel like she needed to ask. “Bring some things, and some shower things, you can shower here.”

“Thank you.”

She’s at his front door 30 minutes later, a bag in her hand, her hair damp and curly. She looks exhausted.

“Oh Scully…” Mulder says. He reaches for her, bringing her towards him into his embrace. “How long has your heating been out?”

“Two days. I had three more days to go.”

He scoffs, shaking his head gently. “You should’ve told me. You’re staying here until it’s fixed, okay. No arguments.”

She nods against his chest.

…

The shower is amazing and the warmth afterwards is even better. She emerges from his bathroom to find him sat on the couch, the TV on low, a beer in his hand. And one presumably waiting for her on the coffee table.

“On a school night, Mulder?” she announces herself.

He turns and smiles. “Just one.” And he looks at her like she is the best thing in the world.

She loves him. So much.

“Um…thank you. For letting me stay.”

He rolls his eyes with affection. “I wasn’t gonna let you freeze to death, Scully.”

Scully scoffs, walking towards him. “Like I was going to freeze to death.” Though she doesn’t admit that’s what it felt like before she gained the courage to call him.

She sits down and Mulder opens his arms. She eyes him warily, a quick, “It’s still a work night, Mulder. The rules.”

“I remember your rules, Scully.”

Confident he wasn’t going to try anything, she picks her beer up from the coffee table and leans against his chest looking at the TV.

“What are you watching?”

“Nothing important,” he says. “What’s your thoughts on going to Chicago.”

Scully frowns. “For work or for…fun?”

He grins. “For work, unfortunately. Though, if you’re ever inclined…A man fell from a 29 story building. He survived.”

She sits up, looking at him with confusion.

“And you think that’s an X-File?” she asks.

Mulder just shrugs.

“Maybe. I think it’s worth going.”

They grow silent for a moment before Scully speaks again.

“Going somewhere for…fun,” she breaches slowly, avoiding looking at him. “Where did you have in mind?”

“Anywhere you’d like, Scully. Anywhere.”

Scully thinks wondering just where she would like to go.

“Does it have to be in America?”

“Nope.”

She smiles to herself, different locations flicking through her brain like TV channels. A whole country where nobody knows them. They don’t need to hide in apartments. They could go outside, touch each other, openly be in love.

“I’ll think about it, Mulder.”

“Just get back to me.”

…

The weekend arrives and their week of celibacy is over. Scully’s heating and hot water is fixed. Mulder’s kind of saddened by that, he liked having her in his apartment. He liked her coming home with him. They fell into a routine, one he could see them keeping if they do eventually move in together.

He stops himself for a moment. Moving in? That was the next step, wasn’t it? His chest tingles at the thought.

“Are you still joining me?”

Mulder grins, turning away from the mirror and pulling off the last of his clothes. He joins Scully in the shower. They behave themselves. They help each other wash and when the last bit of soap is rinsed from their bodies, Mulder takes her against the shower wall, the hot water spraying against his back, Scully’s lavender body soap assaulting his nostrils in all the best ways. He loves this little honeymoon period where each weekend he gets excited to see her, as if he hasn’t had the pleasure of her company all week. He tells himself he hasn’t seen her. He’s seen Agent Scully but on the weekend, he gets Dana.

They lay in her bed afterwards. Happy, warm, but a question is on his mind.

“What happens when we’re on assignment, Scully?”

“What do you mean?” she asks sleepily, rolling over so she can face him.

“At the motels and stuff. Over the weekend. Can we do this or is that Work Stuff?”

He watches her think it over, desperately wanting to say that it’s Us Stuff.

“I think…that’d be classed as Work Stuff, Mulder.”

“Oh…” So he would have to skip a weekend then. “So we can only do Us Stuff when we’re home?”

She nods. “It’s safer that way.” She kisses him gently. When she tries to pull away he chases her. In that case, he was going to make these weekend lasts forever.

[the-dawn-star]

Place to Stay part 23 Klaus M. x GIlbert!reader x Elijah M.

A/N: Hello and happy holidays! I'm sorry for the wait but here it is now.

-S

+ 2300ish words, proof read by Ana_Mia_Lisa on ao3. extra plus: comments, reblogs are high appreciated.

For a moment my heart stopped beating, ceasing its respective function entirely. My hands clenched into tight fists.

The inevitable confrontation. It had come sooner than I expected it to.

My sister, accompanied by the spawns of satan walked through the front door. 

They would certainly not let her walk into danger alone! My brain commented sarcastically. 

Some, –mostly the elderly or mothers that had marriageable sons– would say that my sister looked like an angel sent by the Gods. This chapter of our lives had completely reassessed that statement. Elena was no angel if she walked right besides him. 

Why was she here? To exact revenge? Make a statement? Tell me to pack my things and leave? Lecture me on how I should pick my friends? Those were the only options. Because, what was there left to say besides that? 

My sister, who I loved so much, the only biological family I had left, the only person who had seen me grow up and become who I am today. For better and for worse. Wasn’t on my side anymore. 

What was left of our family was a mess. 

I took a sharp breath. Enough was enough. I would not let her or the vampire she pretended not to love shove me around anymore. 

My throat closed up, and I glanced  at the wine bottle, left on the coffee table. I drank from the bottle itself without a second thought. 

Why should I care about how I look in my own home? 

I remember the nights when Elena went  to parties while I stayed at home. And the moments when she came home drunk and barely able to stand straight. She’d only gotten a slap to the wrist before mom told her to get to bed and sleep the alcohol away. 

When did I become the one to day drink alone? 

My mother had always called me the more empathetic of the two of us, and maybe I would have shown some semblance of empathy towards my sister, if she had the guts to confront me on her own. 

She did not. 

Damon freaking Salvatore with his icy blue eyes and a creepy behavior towards minors, stood there with his signature mock expression. 

How could she bring him here, to our home? After all that he had done to me? To her? To Caroline?To Bonnie? Had she really thought that this would be the smoothest way to approach me? With this particular vampire on her heels?!

Not a chance.

Elena opened her mouth to say something, her hands locked in front of her chest. Was my sister nervous? I didn't know and I certainly didn't care enough to know. At that moment I couldn’t feel much of anything towards my sister. 

“Hello lovely sister! How has your day been?” I did not stand there, turning on my heels, I walked towards the kitchen. “Please, let yourself in. Although I would prefer that you'd leave the dog outside. I've just cleaned up, you see.” 

I knew that the sarcasm couldn’t bring anything good, but holy god it felt good to show my distaste for once.  

I disposed of the half empty bottle into the trash can. 

“Well, well. The kitten has claws.” 

Damon's comment was ignored. By me and my sister it seemed. 

“I know that you are angry, and I’m really sorry how all this turned out–”  

“So tell me Elena,” my tone dripped with sarcasm, “how exactly did you hope it would have gone? I’m genuinely interested.”  

But I didn’t get a response from her, because like I expected she didn’t have one, at least one that didn’t have the possibility of me dying in the hands of the Original family. Because there wasn’t such a possibility that I had gotten the daggers and survived.  

“You hooking up with Klaus, until you have wrapped him around your finger that he has no choice than to save you, that was the first draft of the plan. But you fucking Elijah too was just a nice addition, so good work with that,” Damon spoke way too calmly and somehow dared to give me a thumbs up.  

People often talked about seeing red, and in all honesty, I never knew what it really meant. But if it was real and not something that the poets and writers made up…, this must have been what it felt like. An anger unlike anything that I had felt ever before. Was this the feeling that people felt right before killing someone, because at that moment I really wanted to kill Damon Salvatore in our living room.  

“I’ve always wanted you to be safe Y/N, you know that.”

My breathing was shaky, too much for my liking. Maybe that was the reason why I felt like I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t look at them, I couldn’t look at the man that I wanted to murder so badly, and my sister...oh my dear sister, who would rather side with him than me. Her family.

I stood up slowly, making sure that I wouldn’t trip, I walked to the kitchen and finally turned my back to them. I lowered my eyes to the counter and took a deep breath.  

But I could feel Damon’s stupid smirk and my sister finally looking at me.  

Okay Y/N, you can do this... 

5 things that you can see... 

One my hand, two my shirt, three the counter top, four the oven next to me, five the knife block. 

Knife block...  

God, I want to hurt him, but I would never be fast enough to get close to him, I wouldn’t get a scratch to his skin.  

“Damon! Don't be an ass!” Elena whisper yelled to the vampire.  

“Yeah, Damon don’t be an ass...,” I repeated and slowly turned around to see the couple standing in the living room too close to each other for my taste. I leaned on the counter and finally in a long time I looked Damon in  the eyes.  

“Don’t abuse your brother, or Caroline, or Elena. Don’t compel people to be in a relationship that they do not want to be in. Don’t kill your family members. Don’t kill innocent people just because you are sad. Don’t compel me to fuck people that I do not want to fuck...,”  

I pulled away from Damon’s icy eyes and turned to look at my sister who looked to be in shock from my words. I could see tears forming in her eyes but the empathy hadn’t sunk in yet. 

“But don’t be an ass, works too...,” I shrugged. 

I hadn’t known Damon as long as Elena had, but one thing that I had picked up on, was that Damon had to say the last word...always.  

“Oh, come on, we all know that you had a thing for them long before this thing, so don’t blame me for your inability to understand how relationships work.”  

My hold on the counter tightened and the need to throw anything towards Damon got stronger. Maybe my death would be worth it if I got to stab Damon Salvatore first.  

“Did you say that to Caroline too?” I asked, biting the inside of my lip until I tasted blood in my mouth.  

And somehow, Damon fucking Salvatore had the fucking nerves to roll his eyes!  

Deep breaths. 

I took a step to the side and silently pulled a knife out of the knife block and hid it behind my back.

“Hey, why don’t we all just calm down?” Whispered my sister, clearly wanting to break the tension in the room. Her hand slithered against Damon’s arm and I wanted to throw up. I held the air in my lungs, letting the burn take over my body. 

I took a few steps closer to them, closer to Damon than Elena and I let myself breathe the precious air again.  

If I was going to die today, with  the hands of Damon Salvatore, at least I could try to break the rose-colored glasses on my sister’s head. 

But I couldn’t look at her watery eyes. They reminded me of the time she had fallen and gotten a bruise on her knee. And I held her while she cried until dad came with a band-aid.  

“Did you want me to die?” I asked as softly as my rage could contain. 

Damon didn’t say a word but gently shook his arm out of my sister’s hold. He was a lot taller than me, but it didn't even bother me.  

“Did.you.want.me.to.die?” I asked again, this time voice louder and my tone clipped. 

“Or do you not want to tell the truth because Elena? Do you think she would forgive you after admitting that you wanted me to die?” 

That was the button... 

With a human speed his arm reached for my throat but somehow, I was quicker than him.  

The blade sank through his stomach and his hand stopped mid movement.  

I heard Elena gasping and Damon grunting while bending in pain.  

This wasn’t enough...  

I twisted the knife inside Damon feeling the blood trickling down my hand and dropping to the wooden floor. Mom had always talked about how important it was to keep hardwood floors clean.  

I heard my own name slipping between Elena’s lips but I didn’t turn to look at her. I don’t think I could ever look at her...  

Damon let out a painful sounding moan and I twisted the blade again.  

Slowly, painfully slowly for even my own taste I pulled the knife out of the vampire, letting it fall past my fingers and hitting the floor.  

I heard my name again but I paid no mind to it. Watching the blood on my hand was hypnotizing...  

Had Klaus felt like this when he hurt Damon last night? Had he felt this euphoric last night? 

“You little shit...” Damon mumbled while Elena tried to cover the bloody wound with her hands. I took a step away from the vampire and the doppelgänger and to my delight they allowed it.  

And slowly with steps quickening with every second I walked out of the front door slamming it and ending Elena’s yells. The sunny and warm sky was the most comforting thing in a long time. The warmth that I hadn’t felt even in my own bed with a teary face.  

I let the sun wash over my skin for a second before taking a quick look back to the house. And then down to my feet, which were only covered by socks...  

I couldn’t think... I couldn’t think of what I had just done. 

My legs were shaking due to the adrenaline taking over my body. I shoved my bloody hand to my pocket, just in case someone saw me. And I didn’t want to see the blood of Damon covering my hand and trickling to the asphalt. I’m not sure if I can ever watch my hand without the feeling of warm blood covering it.  

My head was banging in pain. Was it for the scene that I had just witnessed?  

I knew that he would be fine. Most likely he was healed before I took a step outside. But still, I had done it. What was I worth if I acted just like the people who I criticize? Sure, I wasn’t a murderer but that is not a very high standard to be reached.

The road was empty and I could feel the cold ground under me. Last night the ground had frozen, but I hadn’t paid attention to the fact that I had more important things to look after.   

This is better, not thinking about it. I need a distraction, I need one right now. 

Right fucking now... 

Maybe this was a good moment to look for those five things.  

I looked around the now darkening sky. The trees that were losing their leaves so fast.  

One the orange and red shade leaves.  

Two my feet are only covered in a pair of socks.

Three the blood on my sleeve.  

The blood, the fucking blood on my shirt. The blood covered arm that was shoved in my pocket. How have the people in this town killed so many people and seemed to have no remorse for it.  

--- 

I’m not sure when I decided my direction but it happened mostly without a conscious choice. But I knew I couldn’t go home not now. And Caroline and Bonnie would most likely judge me more than I could handle right now. How could I ever look at them after all this.  

And how would I even survive with the wrath that Damon could show me. He had killed people from a lot less than stabbing him.  

--- 

The house was the most comforting sight in a long time. I walked up the few stairs, legs shaking dangerously for my balance. I tucked my bloodied hand from my pocket. I took one deep breath before knocking on the door.  

My hand fell against my side, fuck I was tired. For a moment everything was silent, and for that small moment I forgot the blood and the sight of Damon’s face looking at me ready for a murder. And I could almost feel a smile pulling on the corner of my mouth.  

Klaus looked as amazing as always and I couldn’t stop the smile from blooming on my cheeks. 

The hybrid shared a smile with me before taking a good look at my form.  

My form without shoes and jacket, and my hand being covered with a layer of blood.  

I heard my name but I couldn’t find anything to say.  

“What happened, love?”  

My smile fell and I took a step closer to him.  

“Whose blood is that?” There was a weird panic in his voice but it made my heart only beat faster with something I could not name. I took one more step closer until we were chest to chest. I needed to be closer to him. I needed him, like a human needs air. Like a vampire needs blood.  

“I stabbed Damon Salvatore...” 

---

( @dark-night-sky-99 @venomsvll @teenwolfbitches28  @haloangel391  @queenthorin1 @ollieandbonnie @hcqwxrtss123 @redwolfs-things @theweirdoleigh @mostly-meg @fandom-princess-forevermore @musically-ambiguous @isawritesstories @felinegrate @i-like-horror-andshitt @original-siphon @meyocoko @eddiebea @multistanhell @haroldpotterson @anastacia1705 @fictional-characters-i-love-them @beingsthings @kiaraandrea @hazgold @hallecarey1 @ethereal-imagies @pinknerpersona @ lil-writer-523 @malfoylaufeysonweasleybarnes) @queen-of-arda bellamy1998 )

[little-svt]

FEMME-READER | FLUFF | Size regression

Wc: 2.2k+

Taglist: @pastel-princess-please @kiki-woo @fishsquishh

Run to You

By no means was Jeonghan out of shape or weak. He was known to be able to pull great athletic feats and have seemingly endless energy out of nowhere when the time arose. But most times, his stamina was short and he’d more than often rather be asleep, surviving on too much caffeine from a stream of never ending iced americano and his responsibility to you; his hyper little angel. And, God, did you like to keep him on his toes.

Thankfully, he wasn’t completely alone in looking after you, making sure you got out all your zoomies before bedtime. Every so often, he’d call up his dongsaengs and set up a playdate with a little who was sure to tire you out.

“Thanks, Jihoon-ah. Really… I love my little gremlin but I don't know how you handle yours.”, Jeonghan chuckled into his cell, pulling his lip between his teeth as he leaned back to peek around the corner, making sure you were still where he left you. The only time you seemed to sit still was when you were sitting in front of the television with your favorite snack.

Ending the call with a small smile, he finished getting his bag together, making sure his baby would have anything you could possibly need and some you didn’t for your afternoon at the park. When you were finished eating, he began the long process of chasing you around, yelling after your giggles that were surely insanity, and making sure you were ready in your play clothes. And he still had to figure out how to get ready himself. All the while, running in circles, he reminded himself that the pay off would be well worth it.

“Okay, angel. Up.”, Jeonghan shook his hair out of his eyes, tossing his bag over his shoulder with a huff and held his arms out. He enjoyed this part, trying not to grin at the way your face always lit up.

“Uppies!!”, you giggled, running toward his arms so he could lift you and prop you on his hip with a drawn-out groan as he straightened his back. Thank god it was only you around, he’d have to admit he was getting old.

“We are gonna go get Appa a coffee before we stop at the park. Think you can manage?”, he chuckled, carrying you out the door.

“Uh-huh! Can I hab a strawberry milk again?”, you asked, twirling and curling his soft, black hair around your fingers as he walked you down the hall.

None of his friends could ever understand why Jeonghan constantly ignored their advice. Especially when he so frequently, and annoyingly, one might add, complained about being tired and having a broken back. You were perfectly capable of feeding yourself, walking on your own, drinking from a cup, yet still, Jeonghan wouldn't hear of letting you do a single thing on your own. Sometimes he wondered if he needed you more than you needed him. Couldn’t he just find that in taking care of any of his dongsaengs? No. In fact, he’d rather die. (A joke of course). It was just you. The bond he had with you, the desire to be needed by you, to care for you, couldn’t be replicated in any way. He enjoyed helping you escape, wholeheartedly. You so greatly deserved it.

“You want more sugar? Didn’t Appa let you have cereal for breakfast because you didn’t want eggs?”, he asked, though there was no way he’d say ‘no’ to you. Not in the end anyways.

“I want cereal because Uncle Shuji says Appa cooking is stinky!!” You corrected him quite blatantly with a giggle. Cooking was not one of his many talents, he had to accept that. Still hurt, though.

Sighing with a shake of his head, he put you down in the elevator. After pressing the button for the ground floor, he made sure his wallet was in his pocket, you only wanted to lose that once and Mingyu had lost his enough times for all thirteen of them. Then Jeonghan held his arms out for you again once the elevator door dinged and opened. Not a single smile nor pout for him? So much for ‘your face always lit up’ when he called for you. Maybe he really did need you more than you needed him.

“Can we run to the shop, Appa?”, you asked innocently. Ah, there it was. Your head was always more in space than he could ever imagine it to be. Malicious was not a word in your vocabulary, even when it came to criticisms on his cooking. Your intentions were simple and pure.

Still, frowning at your rejection, Jeonghan looked out the elevator doors, trying to imagine the path to the shop. It was only a couple minutes down the road but he’d likely be chasing after you most of the day anyways.

“How about you save all your energy for Soonyoung-ah, yeah? You little boogers can run your hearts out when we get to the park.”, He prayed for mercy and thankfully, you complied.

With their busy schedules you only got to meet with Soonyoung, sometimes Mingyu, maybe once or twice a month at most. And exactly as he hoped, each time you’d fall asleep not long after he picked you up to carry you home for the evening. You’d be much more docile and cuddly the next couple of days once you’d tired yourself out. The little demon they called Hoshi always managed to be the best outlet for letting out all of your energy.

Jeonghan watched and chatted with you fondly as you pointed out little things during your walk to the park, picking up a rock you deemed was special or spotting a puppy on the streets around you. After stopping for a coffee and that strawberry milk, the two of you made it to your destination fairly quickly. Thankfully, Jihoon always agreed to meet closer to home so Jeonghan wouldn’t have to worry about traveling with you. Though maybe not so lucky for him when dealing with Hoshi.

“Appa~” you complained, sitting on the park bench hand-in-hand in front of the playground “when will Hoonie Soonie get heree??”

“‘Hoonie Soonie’, huh?” Jeonghan logged that one with a snicker before squinting at a Jihoon shaped man in baggy clothes, not that he was dressed much differently, “Oh, there-“

“HORANGHAEEE!!” You squealed, your hand tearing from Jeonghan’s as you ran excitedly across the playground to crash into Hoshi who bounced around with you, more than happy to match, even double your energy. Jeonghan was surprised he was able to dress the kid in two separate articles of clothing. Though it was just a T-shirt and overalls, most of the time it was a battle to get him out of his tiger onesie at all.

The two of you immediately took off in a game of tag while Jihoon found his spot next to Jeonghan, sighing as he leaned back as they watched their little ones, finally able to relax a little now that his little tiger was occupied. But maybe he jinxed himself. An hour full of giggles and squeals later, both you and Hoshi ran up to the bench giggling and covering your mouths.

“Appa…look what I found!” you moved your little hand from behind your back, opening your fist to show a particularly interesting shaped woodchip. After staring at it for a moment, not quite sure how he was meant to react, glancing at Jihoon who had no answer for him, he had no choice but to wing it.

“Wah… can Appa take a closer look? Where’d you find this, Angel? While you were playing by the slide?” Jeonghan smiled a bit too wide, convincing you that you were laying him right into the palm of your hand.

“We found it and this boy tried to-” Hoshi’s mouth was quickly covered by your free hand. Nothing suspicious at all. Jeonghan cracked a genuine smile, his little miss bossy pants.

“Isn’t it cool?? You can have it if you and Hoonie come play with us! But you have to chase us and then we get to chase you!!” You revealed your grand plan. Now how could they say no.

Victoriously, you pulled and tugged on Jeonghan’s sleeve, giggling as you urged him to get up quickly. Hoshi already had Jihoon up who was bickering and cursing under his breath, as expected. The only thing that finally freed them from endlessly circling the playground that seemed a bit too small for two grown men was Jihoon’s suggestion to get food. He knew his little rascal would be hungry sooner or later.

“I want bread! Bread! Bread!” Hoshi chanted, bouncing along as the four of you walked back to the bench to fetch your bags.

“What did we talk about? Real food. You can't just eat bread.” Jihoon threw his bag over his shoulder and held out his hand for the pouting tiger.

“Appa, I want bread too.” you whispered into his ear once Jeonghan picked you up and propped you on his hip again.

“Bread it is!” Jeonghan sometimes gave in a little too easily, but once you had your mind set, it was the path of least resistance. Of course insisting you ate something more nutritious before you could have your bread wasn’t totally giving in.

After dining in at a small restaurant nearby and making sure their two little ones had full tummies, Jeonghan and Jihoon were dragged back to the playground where they’d take part in all of your silly games. This time you and Hoshi were wild animals, a tiger and a bunny, the explorers had to catch in order to stop the end of the world. ‘How or why was the world ending’, you ask? They had no idea.

“That one looks like a fishy!” you pointed at the clouds passing overhead as you lay in Jeonghan’s lap.

The four of you had finally taken a rest on the green, more shaded area outside the playground after Jeonghan almost got on his knees to beg you. Cloud watching could be a pretty fun activity too. Especially on a random afternoon with your Appa and a full tummy at the park.

“That one looks like a tiger!!” Hoshi called out once he finished rolling across the grass back to your little group after attempting to do somersaults a safe distance from Jihoon’s head..

“Yah.. you can't call every cloud you see a tiger.” Jihoon lifted his head from the ground to see the cutest little hamster-like pout.

“Can too.” Hoshi grumbled, flopping on top of his Appa with a thud that had both you and Jeonghan cringing as Jihoon groaned.

“Yea that's enough. You obviously have more energy. I'm gonna go chase him around a bit more before it gets late. Comin’?” Jihoon asked Jeonghan while he sat Hoshi up and straightened out his clothes.

“I think we’re still cloud watching, aren't we Angel?” he smiled, brushing your hair out of your face as if he wasn’t begging for mercy telepathically and hoping you could hear him.

“Still watchin’! That one looks like Uncle Cheolie!!” you giggled.

Following your finger Jeonghan laughed to himself when he spotted the oddly shaped cloud, not quite sure how you’d come to that conclusion. Snapping a picture, he’d be sure to tease him about it later.

The breeze was hitting just right, a gentle wind sweeping through his hair as he watched you watching the sky, Hoshi’s laughter and Jihoon’s squabbling, even the hustle and bustle of the city outside was distant and somehow pleasant. The sun slowly began to lower in the sky, orange pinks, blues, purple and orange blooming through the fluffs of clouds above. Jeonghan’s eyes closed as he took a long, deep breath, opening them again before he dozed off. Much like the sweet, sleepy thing resting now in his lap.

“Asleep already?” Jihoon laughed, picking up his bag from the ground and adjusting Hoshi who he had on his back.

“Too tired to walk?”

“You’re right. But it works every time.” they grinned.

“Same time next week?” Jeonghan pulled you into his arms and stood up with his things, your head finding its home on his shoulder.

A hopeful sentiment really. It was more likely they wouldn't have another playdate for weeks to come. But they’d enjoy the payoff of this one while they had the chance. Jeonghan, tired and achy limbs and all, would still take the long way home as the light left the sky so he could hold his hyper little angel, asleep in his arms, just a little longer.

🧸Endnote: HAPPY HANNIE DAY!! And happy late bday to me! [1001] Three-year-old size regression validation written for those littles who have deep childhood trauma and need help getting back safely. Also bc if Jeonghan actually tried to pick me up his twig paper mache bones would literally… 😭 wah anyways. I know i'll be very busy for the month of ocotober, i would like to be able to work on and post maybe a short halloween headcanon or drabble with Admin II so keep your eye out for that <3 ~ 🐶🐰🍓

🧸Masterlist🧸

[rowanaelinn]

Illicit Affairs - Chapter Fourty-Nine

A/N: Thank you everyone for your patience :) Sorry for the delay, I've spent the last few days obsessing over daisybilly

Warnings: some angst | Word Count: 4,300

Aelin was going crazy. 

She couldn’t stand anymore the relentless beeping noises in the room. Each time a machine made a sound, it sent her more over the edge. She had barely slept two hours before she woke up, and that had been hours ago. Her hands were slightly shaking, something she had noticed only when she was handed a cup of coffee and she’d nearly spilled the drink on her lap. 

It wasn’t like her dress would be a great loss. She liked it, really, but after spending more than twenty-four hours inside of it… Aelin wanted to burn that thing, and she was aware of how dramatic it sounded. She couldn’t find it in herself to care. 

Rowan wasn’t looking much better. She’d seen him doze off for maybe a few minutes before waking with a sharp intake of breath, and then a guilty look appearing on his features. She was sure those micro-naps didn’t help him rest. She wondered what he was thinking about, how he was feeling. She knew it couldn’t be good, of course, and yet… She didn’t ask. It wasn’t her business, they were just… coparents, now. What they were to each other in the past didn’t matter anymore. 

He had moved on, and wasn’t she trying to do so as well? Even if her attempts thus far hadn’t been prestigious, and all because of her. Sam was a great guy. Maybe two years ago, after Chaol, she could have settled for someone like Sam. It would have been restful. Nothing of the passionate, illicit affair she’d had with the man sitting in front of her. 

Maybe she could have settled for something of the sort before, but she couldn’t. Not anymore. 

But how can she be with someone and not burn for them? And not feel as if she could survive in a world without feeling as if she was breathing for two? It was unhealthy, she knew that, and yet she was growing to rather… not dislike that about herself. Her devotion to people. 

If she could just control it, never let her love for others fade her love for herself… Life would be easier. But she supposed that noticing it was already a good point. 

She promised herself that if Helia woke up, she’d work on that. 

The door of the bedroom opened, starling Aelin. She realized she was almost falling asleep again. Fuck, she needed more coffee. Her father came in, followed by Lorcan. She sighed, leaning back into her chair. “You’re like a blessing now, dad. May I get another cup of coffee, please?” 

He looked at her feet, at the eleven empty cups of coffee she’d drank thus far. He gave her a tight smile, “I think if you drink more, you’ll overdose.” 

She shrugged, “I’m a tough girl, dad. I can handle it.” 

He walked to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure of this, princess. But I think it’s time for both of you to go home.” 

“No,” Rowan protested.

Aelin agreed. “She’s still asleep. We are not leaving.” 

Lorcan took a step in the room. “It’s why we are here. Let us take over for a while.” 

Aelin was shaking her head, ready to protest, to affirm that they wouldn’t leave Helia’s side. Then, her father said, “You’ve been here for more than two days, Aelin.” 

She threw a look at Rowan, whose face reflecting her confusion. “No, I’ve just arrived last—”

“No, Aelin. He’s saying the truth,” Lorcan confirmed. “You both need a night of sleep, to eat something real and change clothes.” 

She shook her head. “I’m not going to Varese, it’s too far. I wouldn’t be there if—”

“You don’t need to,” her father said. “Aedion brought your dog, she’s at Fenrys’ apartment, and Sam went all the way back to get you clothes. He’s just came back.” 

Why must he be so difficult to reject? So sweet? She smiled and nodded. That was a nice thing to do, really. 

She didn’t miss the fact that Aedion had driven Fleetfoot to Fenrys. Was there where he was staying? 

“Come on man,” Lorcan urged Rowan, and she realized they might have been talking at the same time as her and her father. “Look at Aelin, she’s on the verge of passing out.” She wanted to deny it, but somehow she didn’t find the strength to do so. Maybe it was why she didn’t argue so much with her father when he came in, because even if it went against her instincts to stay with Helia, she knew he was right. “If she wakes up now, you’re no use to your daughter. You need to rest, then you can help. We’ll stay right there; we won’t move an inch.”

Rowan looked at his daughter for a second, squeezing her hand. “You promise?” He asked his best friend, as if he needed the reassurance. She looked at her own father then, a question in her eyes. He nodded, yes, he’d stay here in her stead.

“I promise on my own child, Rowan,” Lorcan said with a serious voice. “Trust me.” 

Her heart missed a beat, and she was glad to be seated. “On your what?” She struggled to say. 

Lorcan’s eyes closed shut, and he swore. “Elide’s going to kill me. She wanted to tell you in person, had planned to visit this weekend, but then…” Then, Helia had her accident. 

“She’s pregnant?” She breathed. 

Then something happened on Lorcan’s face. She was accustomed to see him closed, and sometimes neutral when Elide was around. But now he looked… He looked happy. His hard features turned soft. He nodded, a small smile on his lips. “We found out a week ago.” 

She smiled then. She was happy for her friends, for her family. She was happy that everyone else’s lives seemed to go just fine, that they were happy. She stood, daring to quickly wrap her arms around Lorcan before pulling back as quickly. He was still Lorcan, she wouldn’t be caught in his arms for fear of her reputation. “Congratulation.” 

He smiled at her, leaving a hand on her shoulder and squeezing before letting go. “Thank you, Aelin.” 

“I didn’t even know it was in your plans,” she said. “Elide never told me about trying for a child.” 

He shrugged, “We didn’t. That was the best kind of luck.” 

She felt her smile flatter at his words, but even as they echoed in her, even as they weakened her knees, Aelin forced her smile to stay bright. All eyes were on her, waiting for something she knew was already rising in her. She slid her hands around her waist, wishing that goddamn dress of hers had pockets. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” she said, keeping her voice even as she left the room without a look behind. 

She knew she passed her friends outside of the room, if only because she heard her name being called, but she was too deep in her feelings to even see them. The only things she heard were her heartbeat and the heels of her shoes clicking on the floor. 

The moment she entered that room and closed the door behind her, Aelin heaved for air. She needed to breathe, to calm her mind. 

She gasped, jumping of fear as she felt a warm thumb on her cheek, wiping away something. Tears. Someone was wiping away her tears. With quivering lips, she looked up. 

Rowan was standing in front of her, in an on-call room. The on-call room. Rowan didn’t say anything. He lowered his uninjured hand, making eye contact. She shook her head, “I don’t want to make this about me.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m very happy for them.” 

“I know,” he answered again. 

“They deserve all the happiness in the world,” she said, as if she was trying to convince herself. 

“They do.” 

It was as if she got stabbed as she finally got the words out, the ones that hurt. “Then why am I so fucking jealous? Why do I want to—” she took a deep breath. “My friend is pregnant, the one who supported me even when I pushed her away. I should be preparing the baby shower, Godsdamn it, not… I shouldn’t wish to be her.” 

“Aelin,” he said, not leaving a moment of quiet. “Give yourself credit. You are not your thoughts, and you have many of those. One bad one doesn’t define you. We’re waiting for Helia to wake up, sleep deprived. If I hadn’t known… I could have had the same thoughts, and that’s without counting your…” 

“Infertility?” She suggested. If he used any other words, an euphemism for it… she wouldn’t be able to stand it.

“Yes,” he breathed. “You have the right to have bad thoughts.” 

She huffed a laugh. Anyone else would have judged her, and yet this man… This man rocked her world, as always. It was a dangerous game to stay here with him, because she knew with each second that passed, it would be harder to leave. And yet she made no moves to leave. 

“You don’t have to go back to Varese,” he said quietly. “Come back with me.” She shook her head, but before she could say anything, he spoke again. “Helia lives there, you lived there for a while. I’m not inviting you to some place you don’t know. Plus… If we get a call, it’s easier if we are at the same place.” 

“Less time wasted,” she murmured, and he nodded. And as she replicated the movement, accepting his offer, she knew that she wasn’t doing so for the practicality of it all. She wanted to be near his comfort. 

---

As she drove Lorcan’s car, the road back to his place seemed so familiar. She drove slower than she was used to, knowing how tired she was. Rowan couldn’t drive because of his injured arm, and she didn’t wish to put him in danger. Her car was… Well, she didn’t know. Hadn’t thought to ask. Rowan’s was apparently wrecked, which didn’t surprise her considering the damages done to both Helia and him. Lorcan had given Rowan his keys, no questions asked. 

He was tense beside her, which only made her slow more. Her heart melted in pain at the fear in his eyes, at how hard he was gripping the door handle as if he was ready to jump out of the vehicle. 

First his parents, then Lyria, and now… Well, he didn’t have a good track record with car crashes. She admired his strength, climbing into a car so soon after. It’d taken her years before she could even take a bath, and she hadn’t been the one to have an accident in the water. And yet Rowan, he faced that… she wouldn’t say easily, but she envied him as much as she didn’t. 

She knew he wanted to break, just that he… couldn’t. She enjoyed her freedom to break, to show weakness. She just wished she was enough for him to rely on her, even if it wasn’t truly her place anymore. 

She parked in front of the familiar house, the place that had felt like home. She’d missed it very much, if she allowed herself to be honest. “Do you need help getting out of the car?” She asked, her voice slightly quivering. It must be because of the fatigue. 

He simply shook his head, stepping out of the car and she followed in silence, the bag of clothes her father gave her on her shoulder. She was glad she hadn’t seen Sam when she went back to the room, or that she hadn’t seen Elide, as horrible as it sounded. She didn’t want to close herself up per see, she did appreciate their support. She just really didn’t wish for the hard complications to take place anytime soon. 

Nothing had changed since the last time she’d been there, all the furniture were still at the same place. The only thing that had changed were the toys scattered all around the room. She smiled at the sight, her girl had grown up, and this was the proof of it. Why must time pass so quickly? Why had she been away for so long, missing these parts of her life? 

“Can I make some coffee?” she asked as she took off her shoes, sighing in relief. 

He was standing in the middle of his living room, eyes rived on his daughter’s toys. 

“Don’t need to ask,” he said, voice flat at barely louder than a whisper. 

“Rowan,” she breathed, walking to his side. He didn’t seem to have heard her, to even notice her until she laid a hand on his shoulder, which surprised him enough to have him turn his head toward her. “Are you alright?” 

He didn’t answer for a second, then another, and another. He shook his head, as if he was trying to regain his sense. “Of course, I’m doing great.” 

She hated the sound of these words on his tongue, hated the untruthfulness. “We don’t lie to each other, Rowan,” she whispered. “Don’t do that.” 

There was a flash of something in his eyes, and then it was gone before she could ask about it. He shook his head, “Nevermind, Aelin. I’m feeling as good as you are.” 

She snorted at that. “Then good luck.” 

His eyebrows furrowed a little more, but before he could ask, she turned around and made her way into the familiar kitchen. Rowan followed suit, and instead of going for the coffee machine like she did, he opened the refrigerator. He took out cheese and butter, and then closed the fridge’s door, and took out bread and two knives. 

She finished pouring her cup of coffee and asked him if he wanted one, he shook his head. “Come eat.”

“I’m not—” he gave her a look that pinned her in place, and she nodded, knowing he wouldn’t accept her refusal. She swallowed and went to stand across from him, spreading butter and cheese on a spice of bread. It wasn’t the best of meals, but it would do. They ate in silence, and the weight of food in her stomach made her feel sick. Or perhaps it was all the coffee, the thought was enough for her to push away her cup. She wouldn’t make herself sick, she’d lived through enough these past few days, she wouldn’t humiliate herself now. 

“Last thing I told her was that she was insufferable,” Rowan said, voice almost quiet. 

“Rowan,” she breathed, her heart breaking. 

“She rambled all day about going to that goddamn theme park with you this weekend, literally all day,” he said, closing his eyes. “And then she threw a tantrum, saying that I didn’t love her because I didn’t want to take her to another theme park the week after. I told her I had to work, and then she said I loved my job more than her, where the fuck did she hear that? She threw mean words at me, and she fucking reminded me of myself, I told her she was…” he lost a ragged breath, and her heart squeezed in her chest. “Then, the car hit us.”

“She knows that you love her,” Aelin said, convinced. “She won’t remember it, and even if she does, you’ll tell her how much you love her when she wakes up.”

“She never thought that I didn’t love her before,” he hissed, but she knew it wasn’t out of anger at her. More at the situation, at life. 

“You’re human, Rowan, it’s okay to break sometimes. And… she’s changed, this past year,” she whispered. Aelin had noticed. The girl was more irritable, more sensible. She always needed reassurance, which Aelin provided a lot of. But still, she noticed that the number of tantrums she threw was just growing.

Rowan nodded, and there wasn’t much else she could say. Whatever she could come up with, whatever reasonable arguments she could give him, he won’t believe it until he gets the chance to fix things.

She looked around, and she was surprised at the rush of sadness that hit her. This was the place where she used to eat breakfast every morning, the place where she’d laugh and cry her hardest. The place where she was part of a family. Where Helia was now growing up, so, so far away from her. Where Helia was clearly struggling, and Aelin couldn’t offer her more than a weekend occasionally. 

Aelin could even believe she was responsible for that shift in the girl’s demeanor. She was the one that left, and yes, she had known it had affected her at some degree but… Was she hurt so much that she was now snapping at her father? Doubting his love? 

Wasn’t the doubt of a parent’s love that had led Aelin down that destructive path she had so eagerly followed?

She would never allow her daughter to do the same. 

Never.

“I think I will stay,” she told Rowan, and her voice didn’t tremble as she thought it would. 

He nodded, “I told you that you could, Aelin. Take my bedroom, I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I-I meant in Doranelle.” He looked up then, his eyes slightly widened. She went on, feeling the need, the urge, to explain her plans. “I’ll stay with my dad for a while, and then I’ll rent an apartment downtown. It’ll be easier to see Helia, it could be good for her. I could help you, too, when you’re working and need someone to take care of her.” 

He was so, so still. “What about your mental health?” 

She swallowed, “I’m doing better, and she makes me happy. I’m learning how to compartmentalize.” 

“You have this new school,” he said, voice flat as a rush of warm hit her skin. 

“They have a campus in Doranelle, I could apply there.” 

She had his entire focus on her, and she felt pinned under his gaze. She couldn’t read him, had they spent that long apart? 

And then, he laughed. 

He laughed, passing a hand over his head. “I-I’m sorry,” he said between laughs, looking back at her, sending him into another fit of laughter as she stood, entirely confused. Had he lost his goddamn mind? 

He leaned into the counter, his elbows resting there, and his face hidden in his hands. But then, the sound of laughter changed. 

His chest was shaking for another reason, one that had her even more petrified than his strange laughter.

Rowan Whitethorn was crying. 

Aelin rushed to his side, but the moment she laid a hand on his shoulder, he jumped away from her touch. She was under shock and surprise as she looked up at him, and the pain on his face was enough to have her own eyes burn. “Please, don’t touch me.” 

She nodded, “Alright, I’m sorry.” 

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in. “Go to sleep, Aelin.” 

She squared her shoulders, “Don’t order me around, I want to help you, Rowan, you won’t push me away.”

His voice broke, and so did his soul, as he said: “You’re the one who pushed me away.” She recoiled at the words, her bottom lip wobbling. But he kept going, even with the tears staining his beautiful brown skin. “You left, I tried everything I could, but you left. And I begged you, I begged you to come back to me, to come back to us, you said you couldn’t. Because this place wasn’t good for you, because of your school. But what you meant all along was that you wouldn’t come back for me.” 

“That’s not wh—”

“Aelin, please,” he begged her. “Right now, when I look at you, all I see is the reminder that I’m. Not. Enough. And I don’t know how long I can still live like this, Aelin, and watching you now… It’s too fucking painful.” 

“You think looking at you isn’t painful too? That it’s not killing me?” She breathed. “My whole life, I have been replaceable, all the time. I have wanted to come back, at least since my birthday, and I was so close to coming back home, just to hear from our daughter that you’ve moved on. That you replaced me, just the way my parents did my whole life.” She was breathless, and his eyes were wide open, his mouth parted. “So, it hurts? Deal with it, because being around you kills me.”

There were a few seconds of silence, when only their heavy breathing. Then, “I replaced you? Are you joking, you’re the one who came here with your little boyfriend, you’re still wearing his jacket.” 

“What?” She asked, shocked. “Sam isn’t my—He’s just—Why should I even explain myself for a kiss? You have sleepovers. And by the way, your daughter isn’t a fan of your little girlfriend.” 

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said, so matter-of-factly that she nearly believed him. 

“Helia said you did, Fenrys did, all of your friends know, and we both know that you aren’t good at hiding relationships. I cut,” she said, voice breaking on the word, “contact with Fenrys because he didn’t tell me about you and Remelle, I lost my friend, so don’t lie to me. Please,” she begged, “At least have the respect to not lie to my face.” 

“Remelle?” He frowned, taking a step in her direction. “No, no. It wasn’t like that Aelin.” 

“Have you slept with her?” Aelin asked, already knowing the answer. She knew she had no right resenting him for seeing other women, they weren’t an item anymore… and yet, it would still make her sick. 

“She kissed me, once,” he admitted. “Nothing else.” 

She nodded, a knot in her throat. “Did you like it?” 

“Did you like kissing Sam?” 

She shook her head, “No. I didn’t.” 

“Me neither,” he admitted, and she desperately wished to believe him. 

And she realized that she could. That he’d never lied to her for anything other than her protection, and that he wouldn’t… “Why, then? Why did Helia tell me she was over at your house all the time?” 

He looked away for a second and then looked back at her. “She is divorcing her husband, and… I don’t know, I wanted to show her that the world could be a happy place. That one bad relationship didn’t mean the end of the world, that she could make friends. Then, she came over more and more, because she felt alone. Until one day she kissed me, and she hasn’t been in this house ever since.” 

“Oh,” she breathed, feeling lighter. He nodded, and she passed a hand through her knotted hair. “I wanted to call you, on my birthday.” 

He took a step in her direction, and she didn’t take a step back. She stayed right where she was. Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was her mind finally deciding to stop fighting. “What would you have said?” He took another step in her direction, closing up the gap between them. 

She looked up, her entire body feeling as if she would collapse. “That I had a talk with my father. That I knew you fought for me, that you were ready to fight the hospital for me. That I knew you had no other choice.”

One more step, and she could feel his warmth spreading through her. One more step and he would be flushed to her body. Somehow, she still didn’t pull away. 

Not anymore. 

“Is that it?” He asked. 

She shook her head. “I would have told you… I miss you. You’re enough, you’ve always been to me, and that I want you. That I have never felt as whole as I am with you, and that I don’t think I can be really happy so far from you. I tell you, now, that I want to kiss every single one of your scars, and forget about what has been done to us in the past. Because this could be… This could be the start of our new life, no more secrets, no more fears, we just heal, grow and love.” 

He didn’t move, but she did. She took that last step, and then there was just Rowan. Her Rowan. 

New tears escaped his eyes, but they weren’t the same as before. They were… good ones. They couldn’t truly be happy right now, not with Helia still asleep, but… They were as close as they could be. 

“You’re not going back to Varese,” he said. 

She shook her head. “I’m not.”

“You’re staying here, not with your father.”

She cocked her head to the side, “What if it’s too fast?” 

He mirrored her gesture, “Since when do we care about the rules?” 

And that pulled a grin out of her. He was right. They’d lost enough time already. 

“Can I hug you?” He asked. 

“Not kiss me?” 

He shook his head. “No, I’ll do that when we wake up tomorrow, and when I’m sure this is what you want.” 

She could tell him that she was sure, that she couldn’t get more real and raw than she was now, but she knew what he meant. They were never stickers for the rules, but he wanted to make things right this time. So, Aelin rose on her tiptoes and she wrapped her arms around Rowan, careful at not putting pressure on his bad arm. 

He pressed her to her, and it was as if she was breathing for the first time in month. His smell was intoxicating, the feeling of his skin and his hair… She loved it, loved him. 

She felt at peace as she fell asleep with his hand in hers, as if nothing could ever happen to her anymore. As if being with Rowan had just fixed almost everything wrong in the universe. It was truly them now, and the thought was as scary as it was exciting. 

The thing was, Aelin didn’t listen to her fears. Only to her heart. 

••••••

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @elentiyawhitethorn // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @danibutterr // @endlessdaydream // @thegreyj // @gracie-rosee // @acreativelydifferentlove // @cretaceous-therapod // @louphantomdragon // @mis-lil-red // @backtobl4ck // @whoever-you-choose-to-love // @lemonade-coolattas // @mad-madeline-ace // @the-introverted-bibliophile // @leiawritesstories // @emilyoftheshadows // @anniesbookshelf // @rainbowcheetah512 // @astra-ad-mare // @story-scribbler // @superspiritfestival // @wordsafterhours // @rowaelinrambling // @black-daisy-water // @fireheart-violet // @livsdriverslicense // @charlizeed // @ladykreads // @mariamuses // @autumnbabylon // @justreadertings // @highqueenofelfhame // @earthtolinds // @bowdawn // @psychopath-at-heart // @ginnyweasley06 // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks