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killerpancakeburger · 3 months

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PULL ME CLOSER

SUMMARY: After a mission gone wrong, Soap narrowly cheats death. When visiting him in his hospital bed, overwhelming relief emboldens you, making you do something you regret. So you flee, resolved to avoid Sergeant MacTavish until the end of your days.

But Johnny is done letting you slip through his fingers.

Part 1. Part 2.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader (reader has boobs, that's it)

TAGS: A pinch of angst, then tooth rotting fluff, Civilian!Reader, Anxious!Reader, Depressed!Reader, inexperienced!Reader, Desperate!Soap, Soft!Soap, mutual pining, first kiss, confessions, dirty talk, making out. Bit of a chase, but it's fluffy. Protective!Ghost bordering on controlling but he works on it. Swears, blood mention, injuries, miilitary inaccuracies, suggestive content.

WORDS COUNT: 5.6k

A/N: aaaAAAH F I N A L L Y! ITS KISSING TIME BABEYYY 💋 For @glitterypirateduck COD Vacation Mode challenge, prompts 32 with Ghost and 58 with Soap.

"Hey author, this is Soap x Reader, why is Ghost there...?" Because he just! Won't! Leave! 🙃 *you can now picture me trying to push him out of the room with all my meager strength but he doesn't budge an inch*

As you pace around the office for the umpteenth time, you can tell from the glint in Ghost's eyes that he's seconds away from telling you to take a seat and stop writhing uselessly.

When did you become so accustomed to the taciturn Lieutenant's expressions - or more accurately, lack of -, that you could figure out what was going on behind the mask? You couldn’t remember.

He's been keeping his gaze on you since you've sat down after learning the harrowing news; or, more exactly, since he's sat down and you've been fidgeting relentlessly.

You're feeling like a shark - to stop moving won't kill you, but it will cause the whole world to come crashing down. It will allow reality to become clearer, sharper, inescapable.

The arrival of Price in the room captures his lieutenant's attention before he can scold you. Gaz follows close behind. He offers you a reassuring smile before his captain addresses you.

“He's going to make it.”

Relief overwhelms you with just those five words; a colossal wave close to sending you tumbling down. Ghost's mask fails to hide his own calming.

Price sets his hands on his hips. His voice is gruffed but composed.

“All he needs now is rest… and some blood.”

“I'll do it,” you blurt out resolutely, taking a step towards your boss.

“No,” snarls Ghost, tone adamant.

You snap around to stare at him in shock and disbelief. He never raised his voice at you before. And, most importantly, he never tried to dictate your behavior.

“Who do you think you are?! I'm not one of your fucking recruits-”

Price loudly coughs in his fist.

“Easy there.”

He raises both hands in appeasement. “We don’t even know if you're compatible.”

“I'm a universal donor,” you counter immediately, determination unaltered.

“Course ya are,” scoffs Ghost derisively.

You glare at him with open animosity. What the fuck is wrong with him!?

“What is that even supposed to mean!?”

You throw your arms up in irritation.

“Enough! Both of you.”

John's tone extinguishes your shout with redoubtable efficiency. He's already not someone you would dare cross on casual days, but hearing him raise his voice makes you sheepish.

Nonetheless, you turn towards him, outraged and betrayed. "Both"!? Why both!? I'm not the one being an asshole for no reason!

“You've done this before?” the captain asks, looking at you.

You nod vigorously.

He indicates the door with his chin.

“Fine, then. Go see the nurses to set you up.”

You bolt out of the room without further ado, determined to not let Ghost get another word in. But you can still hear one last sentence as you hasten.

“As for you, Simon…It is none of your business.”

Giving blood has never been a walk in the park. Every time, you have to actively handle your nerves; resort to trusty relaxation methods, such as focusing on your breathing, or counting the tiles on the ceiling.

The stab of the needle is unpleasant, to say the least, but the wait between the jab and the removal is almost as challenging.

Nonetheless, you've done this before, you succeeded, and for Johnny, you'd be willing to do it for hours.

Power of will doesn't compensate blood loss however, and when you get up from the bed, you feel dizzy, your bandaged arm sore and stiff. The idea of meeting with Soap shortly helps you power through, and soon enough you’re sitting at a table in the canteen, empty at this hour of the day, stuffing your face with whatever snacks and drinks have been put aside to aid your recovery.

With nothing but concern for Johnny busying your mind, you end up eavesdropping on a couple of nearby cafeteria employees.

“You think that's really him?”

“Ain't that many guys going around with a skull mask.”

“I heard he killed a man with only a pen…”

Your eyes widen at the mention of a mask, and you groan in annoyance before turning around to see where the staff is looking.

Near the entrance, casually leaning against the wall, arms crossed, Ghost is watching over you like an overzealous bodyguard. He finally swapped his mission outfit for his trademark black hoodie and grey sweatpants.

Exasperation flashes through you and you proceed to fling at him a cake wrapped in plastic. Your aim's never been anything to be proud of, but he's large enough that you manage to brush his shoulder.

“Get away from me, you creep!” you yell loud enough to be heard by him.

He gives you an inscrutable gaze before leaving the room, probably settling right on the other side of the door, not one to admit defeat so easily.

Minutes later, you leave the room to visit Soap, and observe with spiteful satisfaction that you were right - Ghost adopted the same position as before, against the corridor's wall. You glower at him as you pass by, and of course he remains unfazed.

You scoff with irritation before deciding to ignore him and focus on Johnny, accelerating the pace.

“Wait.”

You halt with a vexed sigh.

“If you intend to berate me again, I'm not gonna stand there and take it.”

“I know what you’re doing.”

You pivot to face him, exasperated by his sibylline remarks. He moved away from the wall and approached you while you had your back on him.

“Once again, what is that even supposed to mean?”

His cryptic attitude makes your blood boil with anger, one that could almost mask the feelings of hurt and betrayal he begets inside you. At some point, you've genuinely started to believe that you two became some kind of friends. Turns out that you've been naively imagining things this whole time.

“The whole self-sacrificing bullshit.”

You stare in incomprehension, searching his concealed features vainly for a clue, wishing you could rip that stupid mask off his face.

“I'm not sacrificing myself. It's just a bit of blood.”

He crosses his arms.

“We have stocks for that. And it's not just that. When he got into trouble with Price for making you skip work, you tried to take all the blame.”

“He did it to cheer me up-”

He keeps talking like you didn’t intervene.

“And when he pummeled that officer, you pretended it was all your fault.”

“I-”

“Luckily for you, Price's no sucker.”

You wince with distress.

“I just wanted to help. I hate being… feeling useless.”

“That's my problem. I swear it feels like you’d slash your own wrists if you thought it would ‘help’.”

You grimace but do not contradict him. It's actually kind of scary how much he figured you out.

“Let him take responsibility for his actions. He may look impulsive most of the time, but he knows what he's doing.”

Arms folded, you gaze fixedly at the floor in silence, not knowing what to add.

“I’m sorry.”

He talked loud enough to be understood, but the content of his sentence makes you doubt what he said as much as if he whispered. You stare at him with wide eyes, speechless. It's not that you categorically believe Ghost incapable of self-reflection, but at the same time, he's always striked you more as the type to never admit any weakness - except maybe in front of a trusted superior and longtime friend like Price.

“Shouldn't have tried to boss you around. Only made things worse. What happened with Johnny… made me…”

He acts like articulating an apology out loud has on him the effect of enthusiastically biting into a lemon - an irresistible temptation to annoy him emerges inside you. No harm in a little well-deserved payback.

“On edge? Touchy? Cranky? Irrita-”

“That'll do. Go, now.”

You turn away with an amused smile on your lips.

Witnessing the wounded sergeant in a hospital's bed is like a punch to the stomach. Maybe an actual punch would be more merciful.

Inside you, gratitude for his miraculous survival battles against sorrow caused by his pitiful state. An impressive bandage is wrapped around his head, one arm secured in a cast, the other bearing a couple of compresses. His face is littered with scratches and contusions.

When he notices you, frozen on the threshold, he beams.

“How's my little firecracker doing?”

That nickname. That damn nickname. He started using it after he caught you red-handed giving the middle finger to a rude officer who was leaving your office just as Soap was entering it. You tolerated it until you realized it was a reference to his love of explosions and all things blow-able, which made you ridiculously pleased, yet self-conscious all at once.

Your legs were already unsteady, so the complimentary alias almost finished you off.

“That's my line, you Scottish bastard.” you retort, voice devoid of hostility despite the insult.

Closing the gap between you two with a few strides, you stop at what you consider a respectable distance.

“Why, I'm alive and kicking. No need fer ye to look so dejected.”

You scoff, both annoyed and moved by the attempt to console you. It's unbearable to see him so shattered and yet so upbeat, while you don't have a scratch but came so close to breaking down.

“I hate you,” you mumble.

“Ye love me.”

If you only knew… you wouldn’t dare to joke like that.

You smile ruefully, despite yourself.

“I'm serious. For a moment I…I really thought you… you weren't going to… shit.”

You furiously blink to get rid of the rising tears stinging your eyes, looking away shamefully.

“Hey, hey, hey, c'mere.”

He pats one side of the bed with his free hand invitingly. You obey, positioning yourself near the mattress close enough to touch. He grabs one of your hands and gently squeezes it.

“M sorry.”

His tone is gruff, maybe a bit abashed. A pang of culpability pierces your heart.

“What could you be sorry for? You were doing your job. I need to get over it.”

You’re not mine to lose.

“Fer makin’ ye cry. I hate it.”

Why does he have to be so kind?

You persist in trying to prove that you’re the one in the wrong here, not him.

“I shouldn't be crying. You’re the one who went through hell.”

He snorts.

“What's so funny?”

“Not funny, just… Ye didn’t even shed a tear when that bastard jumped ye the other day. Yet here ye are, crying over my sorry arse. Yer somethin’ else.”

The compliment takes you aback, and as his eyes sparkle with nothing but honesty, you fiddle with the bandage you received from the blood donation in a desperate effort to collect yourself.

“What’s that? Ye hurt?”

The concern in his voice warms your heart, even if it is unnecessary.

Soap rises from his pillow to some extent, pain obvious in his restricted movements. You react immediately, clicking your tongue in disapproval. Before you can think twice about it, you set your hand between his pecs and push him back, careful to not harm him, but firm.

“I didn't give you my blood just so you could spill it right away!”

He shouldn't be so easy to put back into his place, even with his wounds. Yet he goes down smoothly, docile under your imperious touch as if he was the unassuming civilian and you the imposing soldier.

His eyes linger on your hand before setting on you, the intensity and the heat of his gaze taking your breath away. His expression is one of surprise, but not of annoyance or revulsion, or at least that's what you hope from what you can read on his face.

Sinking into the lagoons of his eyes, you stare back in a daze. You can feel the rhythmic motions of his well-defined chest under your palm, rising and lowering as he breathes. Suddenly the contact becomes intolerable as your cheeks catch fire. You begin to withdraw but he grabs you just in time.

“Ye gave me yer blood?”

The urgency in his tone takes you by surprise, and so does his expression, one that's contemplating you like you've just announced that you've run in front of a truck for him.

“Price said you needed it-”

“Yer. Blood. We have a stock fer that!”

“I know, I just- I was there and I wanted to do something.”

“And they just let ye?”

“I asked real nicely.”

“Would have liked to see that.”

There's a challenging spark in his eye that you choose to ignore.

“It's just blood,” you mumble, shying away from his gaze, embarrassed by his reaction. You didn’t do this in the hopes that he would express eternal gratitude, nor that he'd be admiring of you.

“It will reconstitute on its own.”

He scoffs, unconvinced. Yet he doesn't sound too mad. There's a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and he's looking at you like you hung the moon.

“Let's talk less about me, and more about you, ok? How are you feeling?”

“Parched,” he retorts while reaching for the water bottle on the nearby tray table.

Of course he's not expanding further. Johnny's the kind to dramatically whine over a paper cut for fun but somehow when it comes to serious, life-threatening injuries, he becomes stoically reserved, almost stingy with words.

You almost throw yourself at the bottle when you notice the slight wince of pain in the line of his mouth - despite his efforts to conceal it - and hand it over to him.

“Just ask me if you need something.”

“Oh bonnie, ye dunnae know what yer getting yerself into with promises like that.”

You openly roll your eyes. If he can make that sort of comment, surely he's not in that much pain after all.

“Let me guess: you’re gonna ask me to kiss your boo boos better.”

You regret your jibe the second you finish talking. You were supposed to only think those words, not pronounce them. He's the gorgeous individual who can take the liberty of flirting with anyone, but you… you’re not.

His only reaction is a chuckle.

“Hmm, what if ah did? Ask fer a kiss?”

His tone is provocative, his pout sultry and his eyes pleading.

You stare at him in thoughtful silence, cogitating your answer.

He misinterprets your lack of response, and backpedals, stuttering while doing so. He starts to apologize, plainly, apparently convinced he went too far, ashamed by his own conduct.

You let him stew in his embarrassment a bit, not out of sadism but curiosity, rarely being granted the opportunity to see him so insecure.

This could be the chance to put an end to his flirting for good. The chance you've been waiting for. It's what you should do.

But there's a part of you that is fed up. Fed up of this pretty man and his pretty words, of this blue-eyed casanova that must see you as another conquest and nothing more. You’re sick of passively enduring his quips, his seduction, his winks, his smirks. So yes, you could ask him to stop.

Or you could give him a test of his own medicine.

Lifting his hand towards your face, you lock eyes with him to be certain he's watching, then tenderly press your lips to each of his scarred knuckles.

The ensuing quiet is deafening.

He half-opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. You never saw him so flustered. Is he… is he blushing?

Somehow, seeing his flush sets your own face on fire. The reality of what you’ve just done hits you like a freight train.

Panic surging inside you, you deal with the situation the way you know best when no other solution comes to mind - you flee. Pretending you don't hear Soap calling after you, you scramble out of the bedroom like the devil's on your heels. Ghost, settled on a chair in the hallway, throws you the closest thing he must have to a bewildered gaze in his repertoire as you storm off by him, gaze that you ignore vehemently.

The following weeks are spent visiting Soap only when he's asleep. Kyle is nice enough to let you know when that's the case. You can tell by the interrogative way he looks at you that a bunch of questions rush on the tip of his tongue: what happened, why are you not simply seeing his teammate when he's awake with the rest of them. But he's either kind or polite enough to not formulate his concerns out loud. Or maybe he thinks it's a private matter between the two of you.

Either way, you’re grateful, and you repay the favor any time you can, filling the break room with his favorite snacks, making him tea or ensuring his gear gets maintained first.

At some point Ghost half complains to you, half reprimands you - since Soap is one part of his current problem and you another.

“Fuckin’ hell, never been easy keepin’ Johnny in medical, but since ya visited him he's worse than ever. Care to explain?”

“I fucked up,” you confess, without adding anything else.

“Fucked up how?”

“I can’t tell you.”

He curses loudly, dragging a gloved hand over his face, appalled by your demeanor.

“Why the fuck not?”

“I'm taking my secret to the grave. All I can tell is that I made an absolute fool of myself, and therefore I can never appear in front of Johnny again.”

He half sighs, half groans, and rolls his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You dramatic little…”

Soap eventually gets released from medical.

You spend a couple of weeks avoiding him to the best of your abilities, even though you can tell that Ghost is frankly sick of your antics, Price is five minutes away from berating you, and even Gaz starts to look at you with something that resembles disappointment.

You actively despise yourself for ruining a perfectly good friendship. Especially because of a five seconds long action decided on a whim and carried out out of spite. You find yourself on the edge of tears a couple of times, yet unable to cry. Familiar rooms and corridors feel empty and awkwardly silent with his absence.

There are a bunch of close calls, and the base, or at least the part of it that you’re accustomed to, suddenly feels cramped.

But you hold on.

Until you don't.

You're caught completely unaware, entering the break room as usual to get some coffee.

Only to freeze on the doorstep. Johnny's right there. Barely two meters away. It's the first time you lay eyes on him in what feels like forever. You can’t help but drink in the view.

He's sitting at a table, elbow leaning on it, cheek resting on his closed fist. Your eyes linger over the blue cobalt shirt he's wearing, your favorite of his, and his black fingerless gloves, which you've always had a weakness for. The corner of his lips are down, his eyebrows lightly frowned. Staring into space, he seems sullen.

Your heart tightens at the sight.

However you barely get the opportunity to indulge into your guilt, because next thing you know, your gazes meet. He perks up, eyes widening in surprise. You tense like a deer in the headlights, holding your breath. Dread swells inside you. You’re no braver than last time.

You turn around and decamp.

It's fine, you can come back later. You just need to unearth a hiding spot for now. The object of your affliction - on top of your affection - will probably be vexed enough by your reaction that he won't seek to confront you.

Yes, everything is just fine, you assure yourself - for no more than a handful of seconds.

Without warning, brawny, familiar arms close around your shoulders from behind, pinning your back against a muscular torso.

“Gotcha.”

The word is barely above a whisper, more a growl than anything else, enunciated right into your ear, sending shivers all over your body. You don’t find anything to do but clutch with both hands one of the tanned forearms pressed beneath your collarbone.

Fighting him off doesn't even cross your mind. It's not that you think you'd fail - you trust him to let you go at the first stern summon. You just don't want to forgo his embrace. He hasn’t hugged you since that time you've been mugged and one moment was enough to make you realize how much you’ve missed it.

“Dunnae whether to be upset ye ran away again, or to find it cute that ye thought ye could actually outrun me.”

You gulp, heart pounding and cheeks heating up.

“Johnny…”

A host of pitiful excuses accumulates behind your lips, but somehow none manage to make its way out.

He briefly tightens his hold, but the gesture feels more like a hug than a restraint. Did he… did he just squish you? Like some kind of… cuddle toy?

“Got nothin’ to tell me?”

The question is a taunt as much as a hint at reconciliation.

You try to pace yourself, and think logically about this predicament of your own making. You need to devise a strategy to come out - more or less - unscathed of this.

Soap sounds more smug than mad, but still, passably angry. Maybe there's a way to fix this. Be friends again like nothing happened. Maybe he can forgive you.

First, do not worsen things.

Two, apologize. Properly.

Three, keep your fingers crossed …?

“I'm… sorry?”

He chuckles darkly.

“Gonnae take more than that.”

You try to resist the effects this sentence, his husky voice, his proximity, his laugh have on you, the way they make your stomach twist in apprehension and… indisputable arousal. Resist the temptation to close your eyes so you could focus on his voice alone, on the warm breath brushing your skin, on the lips so close to your ear; to let go in his arms, lean with your whole weight on his body.

Focus, damn it, you admonish and beg yourself all at once. On something else. Anything else.

You’re about to argue that he cannot possibly expect you to succeed in making amends when you’re in this compromising position, but you don't get the time.

Johnny hauls you away inside the nearest room. In a split second, he flicked the lightswitch on and nearly slammed the door behind you.

Cleaning products and exiguity surround you, illuminated by a cheap light bulb.

A closet, helpfully supplies your mind.

You barely have time to digest this information that Soap cages you against the wall, resting his forearms over your head. He contemplates you with a mix of melancholy and longing that renders your knees weak and sends a pang in your chest.

“Been going bloody mad with thoughts of ye.”

His voice is smooth like silk, tone sweet like honey, caressing your ears, warmth dripping inside your chest, making your head spin; or maybe it's a result of his closeness; or a consequence of his cerulean eyes boring into you.

“Ye got any idea how it felt to see ye leave without being able to do a bloody thing ‘bout it? Wanted nothing more than to rip off the tubes, get up, grab ye and lay back in bed with ye in my arms.”

He's intoxicating. He has to be, with how high, euphoric you're feeling, all your problems swept away, insignificant.

“Tell me to fuck off.”

You blink in incomprehension. Drunk on him, you may have lost track a little.

“I'll back off fer good.”

Bliss makes way to horror.

“Look me in the eye and tell me ye hate me. Tell me I disgust ye. Tell me ye wish ye never met m-”

“No!”

Your shout has the merit to make him stop, even if you didn’t mean to yell. Your scream disconcerts him for a second before an exultant grin stretches his lips. His smugness is back with a vengeance.

“So ye do like me.”

“How could I not,” you mutter, capitulating, but avoiding his gaze.

He refuses to let you, and cups one side of your face to make you look at him. As you meet his eyes again, his thumb tenderly strokes your cheekbone. You feel your insides melt at the gesture.

“I like ye. A lot.”

He licks his lips, as if to grant himself some time to mull over his next words, and you automatically follow the motion.

“And I want to kiss ye. A lot.”

His hand slides from your cheek to your chin, slightly tilting your head back.

“Can I?”

It takes a moment for you to regain your voice. When you woke up this morning, you most definitely didn’t expect to receive a confession from John Mactavish. Your brain goes into overdrive.

Is this real? Am I dreaming?

“Johnny, listen…”

The gaze he's aiming at you glows with hope.

“You don’t want to be with me. I'm…”

What? A shell of a human being? Broken?

“…a mess.”

Expectation is replaced by resolve in his turquoise pupils.

“I know exactly what I want. And it's ye. Wouldn't be here otherwise.”

His patience seems to unravel with each passing second, as he stares at you with something akin to desperation written on his face.

“Want me to beg? S’that it?”

“What? No-”

“Cause I can. Beg real pretty. Bet ye'd like that. Saw how ye looked at me the other day when I got on my knees for ye-”

He keeps babbling sweet and filthy nothings that set your face ablaze. He saw how you looked at him? Mortification briefly flares up inside you before you notice the amusement in the corner of his lips, the playful glimmer in his glance, tangled with the neediness - he's joking around. You adopt a stern expression to chasten him but quickly realize he's way too busy staring at your lips to get the message. So you grab both sides of his face to get his attention - two can play this game.

The sheepish, sad puppy face he gives you in return barely makes a notch in your firmness. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, right before diving into the unknown.

“Yes,” you profess - and before he can tease you for clarification - “You can kiss me.”

But as he leans forward to obey, an incriminating detail surfaces in your mind.

“Wait, wait…”

You cover his mouth with one hand. Then immediately regret it, with how his eyes devour you the way his mouth can’t, not helping your flustered state at all.

He gently grabs your wrist and removes your hand, before pressing a kiss into your palm, your wrist.

“Now, better say something, or I'm gonna kiss my way up.”

He hums pensively.

“Scratch that, I'm gonna kiss ye everywhere.”

Pleasant tingles travel your whole body at that. He looks up from your hand to stare at you, and there's a devious glint in his eyes that tells you he caught sight of it.

“I have never.. done this… before.”

This confession means a lot to you. It's a well-kept secret, as long as people don't already deduce it from your lack of social skills. You’d rather it stays this way, but you don't see how you can start a relationship while withholding this truth.

All you can hope now is that Soap will react in a manner you consider appropriate. If he judges you, if that fact makes you go down in his estimation, or if he starts seeing you as some sort of innocent, naive individual that he could get off on corrupting, you’re not sure you'll be able to recover from it.

All playfulness deserts his face. He observes you with a mix of solemnity and compassion.

“Oh, bonnie… I don't give a shite ‘bout that. We'll go as slow or as fast as ye want, aye?”

Stirred beyond words, you nod your assent.

Not wasting any more time, he presses his lips to yours. They're soft and warm. You expected a surge of unbridled desire, but he takes his sweet time with you, to become acquainted with your mouth.

It only lasts a moment though; as he seems to gain in confidence and deepens the kiss, his motions fill with fervor, turn frantic. Hunger rivals devotion.

They say the greatest pleasure possible a human being can experience isn’t, well, pleasure; it's the end of pain - and he's kissing you like he's been aching for it, for so long, and he's finally getting relief. He's clinging onto you like the separation of those past weeks put him in severe withdrawal.

You probably would have let him continue if you weren't compelled by the imperative need to breathe. You turn away, panting.

Not interrupted in the slightest, he simply latches onto your neck instead.

Floating in a daze, you absently close one hand on the back of his shirt, and fondle his mohawk with the other.

“Hold on to me.”

The instruction takes a ridiculously long time to reach you. Thankfully, Soap picks up on that and grasps your hands to place them on the back of his neck. You only understand his goal when his fingers slide behind your thighs and he lifts you up effortlessly, wedging you between the wall and himself.

Once he gets his fill of your throat, he sneaks one forearm under your rear and lets go of one of your thigh, somehow managing to keep you in the air one-armed, to tug at the opening of your top.

Seeing him struggle to open your blouse one-handed, you reach down to assist; but just as you do that, he grabs one side of the clothing between his teeth, and pulling the other with his free hand, he rips off the first three snap fasteners in one go. Your eyes go wide, your mind torn between finding the gesture arousing or risible.

You settle for a fond scoff.

“You animal.”

The name feels all the more appropriate because when he looks up at you, releasing the cloth, the hunger in his eyes is striking, and the wolfish grin he grants you is the one of a ravenous predator.

“You could have just asked-”

“S'faster,” he shrugs, at least as much as possible in his current position.

You barely notice the staple of your bra opening; he hauls you slightly higher, bringing your chest to mouth level, and dives between your breasts like a man starved. The contact makes you tilt your head back against the wall, sighing in pleasure. The sensation of his lips and tongue against your sensitive skin makes you coil: your fingers grasp the back of his shirt and his hair, pressing his head impossibly closer, your thighs clench around his torso, your toes curl.

“Fuck, Johnny.”

He moans your name in response, albeit a bit muffled. He sounds as afflicted as you are, if not more. The idea turns you on terribly.

You look down to see him, and the vision of his face feverishly pressed to your skin is almost unbearable.

Suddenly he recoils, eyes meeting yours, and opens his mouth to stick his tongue out, right in front of your nipple, holding still in silent question. Your crotch throbs with arousal and you bitterly regret your earlier assessment - this view is much harder to endure, by far. The deep, honest eagerness in his gaze, coupled with the absolute submission to your will he demonstrates…

That doesn't stop you from frenetically nodding your head in agreement. His lips close around your nipple and the flick of his tongue against it draws a whine out of you. His free hand softly squeeze your other breast.

If he wasn’t holding you, your legs probably would have given out.

A faraway ringtone painfully pierces through the torpor you’re deliciously lost in. Your ringtone.

Johnny swears under his breath and blindly gropes your ass to silence your phone lodged in your back pocket.

Your eyes snap open in horror as you abruptly emerge into reality.

“Shit, shit, SHIT! Put me down!”

You repeatly hit Soap's shoulders to get his attention and convey urgency, without putting real force behind it. He complies immediately.

Your soles barely reached the ground that you’re already whiping out the device from your pants. Your coworker's name is displayed on the screen. Turning your back on Johnny, you pick up the call in a panic.

“Hey… yes. Yes, I'll be there in a minute. …They're not here yet? Thank fuck.”

As you sheepishly reassure your colleague that you’ll be there soon for the meeting that should have already started, you feel fingers fiddling with your blouse. Your first instinct is to bat Johnny's hands away, before grasping that he's actually putting your snaps back in place.

“Hm? Oh no, nothing bad. … I, uh… I just got held back. Anyway, see you soon.”

You hang up with shaky hands and a weary but relieved sigh.

The Scotsman's arms wrap around your waist from behind and he lovingly nuzzles his face against yours. His stubble prickles your skin, but the gesture is too endearing for you to spurn him.

“No more running away, aye?”

He exudes peacefulness, every muscle in his body content and relaxed. Where did Ghost's vicious attack dog go and who's this teddy bear?

“No more running,” you acquiesce.

“Good lass,” he purrs.

Normally, you would have gotten back at him for that patronizing comment, but you still feel bad for the way you treated him, so you just grunt.

“We'll pick up where we left off, hmm?”

Your cheeks burn furiously as you realize what he's referring to - his kisses wandering lower, to fulfill the “everywhere” part of the pledge he made earlier.

What the hell did you get yourself into?

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homeofthelonelywriter · 3 months

Text

Your lips | Pt. 1

(A/N) I don't think this will be along series, but there will be at least on more part! Also, I'm no doctor, or nurse, that's why I mostly skipped over the exam part!

Pairing: Simon x fem!pregnant!Reader

Warning: mutual pining, medical stuff (nothing graphic), mention of scars, pregancy

Synopsis: Almost done with your day (and your pregnancy), you get a last minute patient. The usual stoic and guarded Ghost is immediately charmed by you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

“There is a lot I can spare you from Simon, but the medical checkups are mandatory. There is nothing I can do about that.”

Price had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyebrows were pulled together in a slight frown as he regarded his Lieutenant. Simon on the other hand just looked annoyed. There were many reasons as to why he joined the military, but being fussed over by grown people was not one of them. He opened his mouth to, surely, whip out a smart remark, but Price held up his hand before he had the chance.

“You have until tomorrow six p.m. to go to the clinic yourself, or I’ll drag you by your scruff, you hear me?”

With a defeated sigh, he nodded, before he left Price’s office. Might as well get it over with, right?

One look at your computer told you that it was almost time to go home. Your to-do list for the day was all ticked off and your list of patients had no name remaining. With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself out of your chair and onto your feet, your hand instinctively cradling your swollen belly. Your lips pulled into a smile as you felt a kick right against your hand.

With slow, even steps you made your way to the door of your office and leaned outside until you caught the secretary’s eyes. She smiled at you. But not a bright, sunny smile, no, it was a sad, apologetic smile. Your own smile faded, but you nodded before waddling back to your desk. By the time you sat down, a new patient file was displayed on your screen.

His entire name was redacted, only his callsign was displayed. Ghost. You quickly read through his file, noting that he obviously hated all medical personnel, since he barely showed his face here. By the time you were almost done, a sharp knock rang out from your door.

“Enter!”

From the heavy steps, you could discern that it was the soldier who had been added to your day last minute. Still, you kept your eyes on the screen, trying to get all the information into your head.

“Take off your shirt and sit down on the bed. I’ll be with you in a second.”

Your tone might have sounded harsh, but you quickly learned to use an authoritative tone with soldiers. Otherwise, they might not listen. Your eyes were still fixed on the screen as rustling sounded through the room, followed by the creak of the bed. Now that he was done, you slowly rose to your feet again and squeezed some sanitizer into your hand, grabbing your clipboard before waddling over to the man.

“Just a regular checkup, right?”

Your eyes finally landed on the man’s back when he grunted in response. And good lord, he had one hell of a back. Covered in scars and a few tattoos, his shoulders were broad and strong. You felt yourself blush as some not-so-innocent thoughts entered your mind and it took you a second to switch back to work mode and to stop admiring him. You dealt with soldiers all day, every day, and yet none have had that effect on you. Until now.

To distract yourself, you quickly started with the exam. Looking for any injuries, listening to his lungs and heart. Within a few minutes, you were done with his back and slowly moved to his front. You were ready to just continue the exam when your baby landed an especially firm kick against your womb. You came to a quick stop, placing your hand against the place the baby had kicked.

“Woah, you okay there, love?”

Ghost jumped to his feet, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, but you just waved him off, by now being used to it.

“I’m fine…just…pregnant with a very active baby.”

An amused huff left his lips before Ghost sat back down. And even though he looked the same as before, you noticed how his eyes were more focused now, looking for any sign of trouble. He almost seemed…protective.

After a few moments, you recovered and let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and Ghost. But you hesitated for a moment. How would you reach his chest? As if reading your thoughts, Simon spread his legs, allowing you to step between them and reach his chest. A smile tugged on your lips.

“Thanks.”

He nodded in response, keeping still while you continued your exam, only moving when you asked him to. You instinctively reached to your right, ready to take his blood pressure, but your hand came back empty, you had forgotten to bring it with you from the table. A tired sigh escaped your lips and you took a few steps in the direction of the table when Ghost placed a hand on your arm and stopped you.

“I’ll get it.”

Before you could answer, he was on his feet and already at the table, picking up the device. Something that always seemed so large in your hands was easily dwarfed in his and you couldn’t help but admire his hands. Hands which he used to kill people. Hands which surely could do unholy things to your body. Hands which…

Your thoughts were interrupted by the clearing of a throat and you finally noticed that you had been staring at his hands.

“Oh, uh, sorry.”

With flaming cheeks, you grabbed the device and swiftly pulled the sleeve up Ghost’s arm. Pressing two buttons, you watched as the sleeve slowly began to fill with air. This part was always kind of awkward since all you could do was wait. You expected it to be the same way with him, but instead, he suddenly spoke up.

“How far along are you?”

You looked up, surprise clear on your face.

“Uh, thirty-three weeks.”

A small smile pulled at your lips as you gazed at your belly, your hands softly gliding over it.

“Hm…husband must be excited.”

You chuckled dryly and shook your head as the device finally displayed the value you had been waiting for.

“No husband. No father at all, to be honest. Left as soon as he found out I was pregnant.”

If you weren’t so focused on filling out the form on your clipboard, you would have noticed Ghost’s entire body tensing up and his eyes darkening. His gaze swept over you, following your curves, as his mouth watered. How could someone abandon someone who looked this delicious?

But before his thoughts could continue, you looked up from your clipboard and smiled at him.

“All that’s left is drawing some blood. But since it’s already late, I assume you’re not sober, so could you come in tomorrow morning before breakfast? That way we can get the most accurate values.”

Ghost found himself nodding, a smile hidden behind his medical mask at the thought of seeing you again tomorrow.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You grinned before waddling back to your desk and sinking down on your chair. As soon as you were out of sight, Ghost quickly pulled his shirt on and got to his feet. He turned to look at you and for a split second, caught you staring before you quickly averted your eyes.

With a grin under his mask, he started to walk to the door, before he got an idea.

“Are you done for the day?”

You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with confusion.

“Yes, why?”

Ghost nodded and walked back into the office.

“I could accompany you to your car if you’d like. Carry your bag, you know.”

Your eyes widened, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I’d like that, but I took the bus to get here. I don’t exactly fit behind the steering wheel anymore.”

“Oh, in that case, let me drive you home. You shouldn’t be on your feet that much.”

You shook your head, about to protest, but Ghost insisted and finally, you accepted. He watched you finish up your paperwork and pack up before he grabbed your bag and offered you his arm to hold onto.

With slow steps, he led you through the clinic to the doors and towards one of the base cars. One that could be used by all soldiers. On the way you gave him your address, not noticing the smile once he noted that you lived on base yourself.

After he helped you get settled and made sure you were buckled in, he got in and started the car, carefully taking off in the direction of your house. The car ride was spent in comfortable silence, and with you almost falling asleep in the passenger seat. But all too soon, the car pulled up in front of the army-issued house and Ghost quickly rounded to your side to help you get out.

He insisted on helping you get inside, only being satisfied once you sat on your couch with a glass of cold water in front of you.

“Thank you, Ghost. I really appreciated you bringing me home.”

He nodded, his mask hiding a sheepish smile and red cheeks.

“When do you start tomorrow?”

With a slight frown, you told him that you usually started at seven a.m. and he nodded, before saying goodbye and walking towards the door. But at the last second, he stopped and turned to look at you again.

“It’s Simon…my name.”

A grin spread on your lips as you nodded and slowly repeated the name, almost to yourself. But Simon heard it and he couldn’t deny that he loved how his name sounded coming from your lips.

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Like what you're reading? Buy me a coffee!

#ghost #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost cod #cod #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #fanfiction

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pumpkinbxtch · 6 months

Text

— nosebleed ｡⁠:ﾟheadcanons

who is here: percy jackson, jason grace, frank zhang, leo valdez & apollo/lester

warnings: mentions of nosebleeds, swearing

a/n: It just occurred to me, I'm sorry, I just got a nosebleed and I'm my own muse.

Percy:

You are talking to your wonderful boyfriend about things about the sea and a drop of blood literally falls from your nose, Percy is literally asking if you are okay, if you want water.

Out of nerves, he starts to tell when his nose bled, and he almost exterminated to the world as if you had not been there.

“PERCY, I WAS THERE, FUCK PASS ME PAPER.” you scream, stopping drops of blood with your hands

And he runs to the bathroom for it.

Jason:

This man is very thoughtful, he is literally the first to realize that a drop of blood is about to come out of your nose.

“Honey” he calls you and the drop falls.

But he is a cautious man, and he takes paper out of his pocket. He cleans you and checks that you are okay.

“Do you feel bad?” he asks you for like the tenth time.

“Calm down, I'm fine,” you reply for the tenth time.

Still, Jason controls the air in your direction to cool you down.

and gives you kisses on your knuckles

Frank:

Frank doesn't let you react, he's already picked you up and is taking you to Apollo's cabin (if you're at camp)

or anywhere with doctors or nurses who can check you out.

He runs like his life depends on it (because for him, it does)

“frank, honey it's just a nosebleed”

“HEMORRHAGE” He screams like it's the end of the world and he ends up running even faster.

When they tell him you'll be fine, he continues checking on you for the rest of the afternoon.

Leo:

When you notice the blood touching your lip, you immediately stand up and make sure with your hand that it doesn't fall or dirty your clothes.

Leo looks at you and looks for a handkerchief, screaming and spinning around, then the idiot realizes that he literally has a magic belt and takes a handkerchief out of there.

When you are cleaning yourself, you feel wet tissues on your forehead and neck.

“It's because of the heat!” Leo says and as he gives you a nervous smile.

“I wish I could be Jack Frost right now” sure you smile at him, and he looks very confident, but he's really worried.

After a while, Leo's anxiety becomes even more apparent. “Are you stressed?”

“Leo, I'm fine” and he nods

but changes your tissues whenever they need more fresh water.

Apollo / Lester:

He is literally shouting and waving his hands.

then remember that he is the god of healing

He laughs lightly and does his magical things on you.

"You need a break" he says with a deep frown.

super god doctor mode activated

"yes yes" you say while he makes a tourniquet for your nose.

He taps you on the nose and kisses you on the cheek.

he knows that no one can take better care of you.

#leo valdez #leo valdez x you #heroes of olympus #leo valdez x reader #percy jackson #lester papadopoulos #percy jackson x reader #jason grace x you #frank zhang x reader #lester papadopoulos x you #apollo x y/n #trials of apollo #pjo hoo toa

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cutielando · 5 months

Note

Heyy, im not sure if you're doing requests or socmed au's,,But if you are... I was wondering if you could do a socmed au with max verstappen in which he's secretly dating a nurse or a med student; where he likes meets her on vacation in croatia where she's studying; she sings in a klapa (a traditional acapella group) and he ends up at one of her performances, and there is like media coverage on how he was seen with an unknown girl,,, they keep their relationship secret until some gossip site gets pics of them together infront of the hospital with her in uniform and they soft launch after that

i know this is like a bit detailed, but i CAN NOT write for the sake of all that is holy

Anyways... Absolutely LOVE your writing❤

loving a nurse | m.v.

my masterlist

Instagram

liked by yourbff, yourbrother and 391 others

yourusername a little time away from the hospital🦋

📍Split, Croatia

view all 16 comments

yourbff i forgot what time off felt like😩

yourusername you and me both😭

yourbrother what's with that swimsuit????😯

yourusername i don't know what you mean

yourbrother you make it so hard to be nice to you

yourusername i know, but you love me regardless

friend1 you look so good!!!❤️ hope you enjoy your vacation!!

yourusername thank you babe!!!❤️

friend2 how does it feel to finally breathe outside of the hospital 🥲🥲

yourusername i kinda miss it, to be honest 😂

yourbff don’t listen to her, she’s drowning in mimosas

yourusername don’t out me

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 483,175 others

maxverstappen1 summer break has never felt so good

📍Split, Croatia

view all 78,174 comments

landonorris i bet you're enjoying it more than we are ;)

maxverstappen1 shut your mouth

landonorris don't hate me for speaking the truth

maxverstappen1 shut up

alex_albon getting some extra sun in there, maxie boy

maxverstappen1 you're a menace💀

alex_albon i’m speaking the truth 👍🏻

redbullracing hope you have a wonderful break, champ!❤️ you deserve it!! liked by maxverstappen1

user1 he looks so good, Jesus😩😩

user2 why are lando and alex teasing him in the comments???😭

user3 they're probably just trying to embarrass him because he never posts topless pics or something lol

user2 or maybe he met someone while in Croatia??

user3 possible, yeah

georgerussell63 I see you've taken a page from my book on that first photo there ;)

maxverstappen1 i have to learn from the very best😂😂

georgerussell63 you’re doing good for your first time

charles_leclerc where did you disappear last night?

maxverstappen1 i didn’t?

charles_leclerc bro, nobody could find you for hours

landonorris he was up to no good, charlie :))

maxverstappen1 i’ll block you

user4 i wanna live his life so badly 😭😭

user5 same🥲imagine being him

user6 he’s glowing ever since he ended it with Kelly

user4 that bitch was milking the life out of him. he seems to be doing well now

liked by formula1wags, racingforever and 12,184 others

formula1gossip Max Verstappen was spotted at a klapa music night last night in Croatia where he's currently on vacation. Moreso, he was spotted having dinner with one of the members of the group. Is there something going on in the World Champion's love life, so far away from home?

view all 724 comments

user1 MAX???

user2 this is the most Max thing he could ever do

user3 kinda wish this was true, he needs someone after the whole Kelly drama

formula1wags detective mode activated

user4 doing God's work, thank you admin

charles_leclerc so that’s where he was

user5 hahahahaha CHARLES

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff and 415 others

yourusername back to work 🩺

view all 20 comments

maxverstappen1 nobody can pull off wearing scrubs like you do🫶🏻

yourusername staaaaawp

yourusername who gave you permission to be this sweet???😭

yourbff what about me?

maxverstappen1 i only have eyes for Y/N

yourusername atta boy 😊

yourbrother i don’t like all of this flirting in the comments 😒

yourusername okay

yourbrother did you hear what i said??

yourusername no, i read it

yourbrother stop being a smartass

yourusername never 😋😋

charles_leclerc glad to see the mystery girl has a name

maxverstappen1 stay away

charles_leclerc calm down

yourusername baby, be nice

charles_leclerc yes baby, be nice

liked by formula1wags, maxiesbaby and 11,482 others

formula1gossipp Is Max Verstappen off the market? The reigning F1 champion was seen outside the hospital getting cozy with a nurse. We can confirm Max was NOT a patient at the hospital, seemingly only spending a few minutes with her before he departed and she rushed back into the emergency room. Is our World Champion officially a taken man?

view all 572 comments

user1 no way he bagged a nurse😂

user2 even though this is an incredible invasion of his privacy, if this is true then i'm so happy for him🙏🏻

user3 i hope they're together, whoever she is☺️

user4 finally, we're free of kelly

user5 i honestly thought he wouldn’t get away from her 🥲🥲

iMessage

maxie💙

i'm sorry..

y/n🩷

?????

what happened?

maxie💙

there were some paparazzi at the hospital last night, they took some pictures of us and posted them online

they can't see your face

but they definitely know it was me

y/n🩷

babe

it's okay

it was bound to happen eventually

maxie💙

i don't want you to lose your privacy because of me

you need to focus on your studies

not deal with this

y/n🩷

babe

i knew what i was getting myself into when we started dating

i'm almost finished with my studies

nobody is distracting me from anything

don't worry, i'm good

maxie💙

so we can tell the world about us?

y/n🩷

if you want, then yes

maxie💙

i want everyone to know i have the hottest and smartest girl😮‍💨

y/n🩷

you’re making me blush

baby

i miss you so much

i can’t wait to join you 😭

maxie💙

not more than me

i’m counting down the days until i see you 💙

Instagram

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 2,194,573 others

maxverstappen1 yes, the rumors are true. i have a girlfriend, and she is indeed a nurse at the local hospital in Croatia. we decided to keep the relationship to ourselves because i didn't want her privacy taken away from her, or her focus shifted from her studies. i wish we could have had the opportunity of announcing this on our own terms, but the paparazzi got the best of us this time. i urge you all to be respectful towards her, any hate towards her will absolutely not be tolerated by me or anyone from my team. i hope you will come to love and respect her as much as i do

comments on this post have been disabled

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

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fumifooms · 8 months

Text

Quick Falin analysis. Congrats on her going along with her loved ones’ wishes becoming explicitly canon and not subtext btw!

Thinking of it, becoming a chimera and literally being puppeteered around by the will of the dungeon and its lord is such an… Explicit visualization of her demeanor in life of letting others’ wants and whims dictate what she does and where she goes. Shows the most extreme & worst version of it, of where that could lead her down the road. Dunmeshi loves often showing that with everyone, with the winged lion warping even the most selfless well-intentioned desire into something intense and destructive.

If Faligon is her retreating into that comfortable role of just on-pilot mode following what others want, that’d be an interesting angle too. Because we see like with the dragons fight at Thistle’s house that the monsters CAN act rebellious, meanwhile Falin was just so on board with the commands she got ever since she got transformed.

Chimera Falin doesn’t have a strong will? Oof

I do also think that Thistle is something that her nursing reflexes latch onto easily, when it comes to comforting and protecting others. It’s unsure how much of her is dormant as Faligon, or how being bound to the dungeon and the dungeon lord’s will affects her, but it’s undeniable that she acts with care when it comes to Thistle. On one hand, she fights ferociously for him, when protecting him or even just sent out to scout, but you can’t really say she’s being assertive either, not when she doesn’t complain or act when he eats all the berries and she’s hungry. She’s still that silent, sidelined guardian, only now very, very literal.

I never bought the angle that chimera Falin mostly represented her repressed anger at the world personally, like yes now she’s loud and big and imperfect, but again, socially she falls into the same pitfalls, it’s just that now she’s top dog, below just one person, and so she’s allowed to be aggressive with everyone else. If anything, it’s the dragon soul pushing her to want more, making her act out, giving her a taste of how it feels to be powerful, carefree and impossible to oversee, but it couldn’t be called catharsis I think. In general, she seems more passive with a "as long as I have what I love, everything else can go burn for all I care" mentality rather than actively(or repressedly) angry to me. Not that she couldn’t have complex feelings over being lonely and cast out either of course, but personally I never got the sense that she resents the world or society at large. I do feel like the dogs treating her like she was at the bottom of the hierarchy also shaped her a lot

Not only cast out by other kids and classmates, but also treated as someone that can be disrespected and roughened up by the dogs at home. She was really pushed into that go with the flow, make yourself scarce and quiet attitude. She’s never really been allowed to hope for better, or to have a dream of her own, her life path being decided for her by others. Besides with Laios, everything she learned everywhere in group dynamics was that she was at the bottom and should be content with whatever others gave her. Maybe that’s why she was so forgiving of her parents too, because at least, to some degree they did care and didn’t want to cut contact, and she takes what she can get.

Thank you @thatsmimi for the fantranslation of the new leaked content, the opening and ending pictures in this post. Their original post about it is here, and as mentioned it is not the official translation.

#She hesitates on hurting the kobold but not everyone else? Oof #And even with Laios as kids he enforced the hierarchy by wrestling and all tbh #I don’t expect kids to have a good and compassionate grasp on social dynamics but he wasn’t always the kindest #Not a defense of the parents btw. Wtf were they doing #Dungeon meshi #falin touden #analysis #character analysis #so interesting how Falin just doesn’t have presence #Dungeon meshi manga spoilers #spoilers #thistlin #the dragon soul is a positive influence on her <3

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sparklingcid3r · 20 days

Note

hey ive been seeing this hc on other blogs but what is ur hc on pony having to go to the doctor? like darry in waiting room with him, then pony forcing him to come into the exam room and silently looks to darry to answer every question the doctor asks of him. do you think darrel gets frusturated by pony or is he in full overprotective guardian mode of "he said his stomach hurts!" at the doctor.

I’ve seen a few of these too and I love what everyone’s come up with so I have no idea if I’m gonna be original but I wanna talk abt this soooo🫶

Pony HATES going to the doctor. That shit scares him so bad. His parents had to drag him kicking and screaming out the door and as a freshly turned 14 yr old, nothing’s changed. He still hates it. Sure, Darry’s not pulling his legs while Pony holds onto the door extreme, but he’s moping all the way over there.

Darry’s never wanted a frontal lobotomy more than during his first time taking Pony into the doctor’s office.

After he’s finished filling out the insurance part of the paperwork in the waiting room, he passes it off to Pony to answer the rest seeing as it’s his appointment. Pony ends up reading every question out to Darry like he’s supposed to answer it for him.

“It’s asking if I have any stomach pain.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Then write no.”

“Oh, okay.”

…

“It’s asking if I have any joint pain.”

Darry’s head is in his hands.

They finally get into the exam room and when the nurse tries to get him to follow her to measure his height, weight, blood pressure, vision, he just looks at Darry like he expects him to come with. Darry just gestures for him to go with the nurse like literally every other time he’s had to do this.

The nurse brings him back after an incredible series of “You want me to take my shoes off🤨” and “Am I supposed to get on that😐” (the scale). When she closes the door, Pony collapses back into the chair like he’s just been through an ordeal. He’s giving Darry the nastiest side eye and Darry’s just like “Do you really have to make this so complicated, all you have to do is sit there and let them look at you” but Pony hits him with the “You weren’t even there bro”

The doctor comes in and tries to make friendly small talk, just asking what grade he’s in and what kinds of school activities he does.

“So, what kind of physical activities do you partake in?”

Pony looks at Darry.

“He does track.”

“Alright, good. What would you say your diet is made up of, Ponyboy?”

Silence.

“He eats his vegetables. Lots of chocolate cake, though, nearly every day. I’m sure you want him to cut back on that.”

“Every day? Ha! Yes, I would advise that a young track star like you should limit your sugar intake.”

Darry has no intention of following through on that, but he’s satisfied with the heat Pony glares at him with. Darry is a shithead of an older brother when he’s taking Pony to the doctor. If Pony gives him the reigns he’s gonna fuck with him so hard. Like yeah he’s pretty sure it’ll help Pony to speak up for himself more, but Darry’s absolutely doing it more for his own entertainment.

And also they find out that Pony’s reflexes are garbage. The doctor gets his little hammer out and knocks on Pony’s knee. That shit doesn’t move until he’s about to move onto the other knee. Darry is in shock.

Overall a great day out for two-thirds of the Curtis brothers, 0/10 wouldn’t recommend

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders darry #darry curtis #the outsiders ponyboy #ponyboy curtis

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circeyoru · 7 months

Note

hello, damn I fell in love with your yandere Alastor, it's too much jdkdkfkkd it's so sweet it kills me, I wanted to ask you how Alastor would react and his darling gave him his soul. I told myself I was going to stop reading so many Alastor fanfics but I can't with yours, they are very addictive.

To those that have no idea what this is talking about, check out {Unwanted Soul}

Thank you for your read and interest!! (can't believe someone says my stories are addictive, feel like I committed a crime)

OKay, back to business. Interesting ask. We never explored Alastor's side of the soul ownership huh. (since it's different from canon)

Basically, what's Alastor's response and reaction to Reader breaking the contract and returning Alastor's soul to him to own.

Alastor would see this as you not wanting him around. Full stop. Whatever your reason and currently established relationship (like how close you two are). He'd have a full breakdown and his confidence all gone. He gave you everything and treated you like an entity beyond. What did he do wrong? Tell him and he'll fix it!

By now, like after part 3. You have already mutually returned his feelings, but just not as strong as Alastor's. At least you're more lenient and accepting of his love and affections to you. He doesn't understand that you want him to hold his soul again without abandoning him. He knows you fear his power and Overlord status that can bring you to ruin, so giving you his soul was a way to show you he didn't care about these things that anchored his pride when compared to being by your side. To him, you accepting his soul was the same as you letting him stay by your side and accepting his twisted love for you. If you give back his soul to him, you're saying you don't want him and his presence around you.

He's not stupid, while he builds your reliance on him, he knows you could just as easily remove him from your afterlife. As such as he hates to admit it, you didn't need him as much as he needed you. (now isn't that odd?)

That's his feelings, now for his reaction and response.

While he wouldn't harm you, he'll frighten you to use the ownership power over him. Showing you that if you set him free from your hold, he can and will wreak havoc. Aren't you regretting the very thought of suggesting that? It's laughable, you want to free him. He'll show you, even when his powers are limited, he causes destruction to demons around him, think about what would happen if he's at full power.

Both of you are aware of this manipulation and you knew Alastor was using it to his advantage. Odd that the one that owns his soul is so powerless against his words and persuasions.

Oh, those don't work? Well. That's too bad. The hard way it is.

Alastor will lock you up somewhere. Keep you away from any paper-related objects. You're powerful, but you can't compete with him in combat. "You're sloppy, darling." He'd laugh when you tried to immobilize him with your summoned angelic weapons. They're deadly, but nothing if they don't land on their target. He'll push you into a corner so that you have to defend yourself till the point of exhaustion (like that time with Adam). Then he'll catch your tired and defenceless self in his arms lovingly. Once you're in your slumber mode, you're all his.

Charlie and the others are trying to find you? Even Lucifer? Well, he has his shadows and he will hide you from them. He's stronger now, before he played nice because you were there, but you're out of commission at the moment so he can let loose a bit. He would have pointed the finger at Charlie or even Lucifer and the others for your silly actions, that is, if you weren't always in your room with your entertainment. It took him years to get close to you, how can they do the same in such little time and you weren't caring for them as you did him. Even during you activities with the group, you weren't as involved and chose to stick close to him.

He'll nurse you back to health, but not fully that you can run away, he'll keep you at that borderline between energetic and exhausted. He gives you the same life you've lived with him during those 7 years, eveything's the same. Like the world only has you two in it. Back to the good old days.

Just don't worry about the times he's gone. He needs to ward off some pests around you. You don't care for them, yes? Alastor knows and understands. He'll take care of it as usual. You can ignore it all with your anime and comics, or take a nice long sleep to pass the time.

You let Alastor go? He's not letting you. Not on his soul.

Note: Hope this answers your question. I actually thought you were asking what if Reader gives Alastor their soul. Idk how I got that

Welcome other asks about my stories too!

Other Works: MASTERLIST

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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ms-demeanor · 1 year

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i hate my doctor so much and my insurance company is doing this thing where they have nurses call and visit you as a preventative medicine deal to go over your medical history and see about getting you in touch with other providers because they would way rather pay for a pap smear than for treating cancer and it is SO GRATIFYING that I've told these nurses "oh yeah my doctor just gave me [high dose of a drug] and told me to take as needed" or "my doctor gave me 90 ritalin and told me to play with the dose until it felt right and if that didn't work to find a psychologist on my own" and have witnessed the nurses audibly Activate into "Someone Needs To Report This Man" mode.

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imasoftieforbarb · 11 months

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Ok here’s another but this one will be for JD!! :D

maybe a JD x GN s/o that is a country troll but like..RWALLY COUNTRY, like full blown accent, etc. ooo!! Maybe they own a farm or a ranch and they herd cattle and one day they get hurt or something (being kicked by cows/her animals isn’t fun I’ve heard!!) reactions or hcs maybe?? :)) <33

-nurse anon 🏩

(on one more and I’ll leave you alone for today I promise!!)

I loved writing this!

He definitely met you whilst he was out in Rhonda

Maybe he got lost and saw your farm?

Either way you met and he couldn’t stop thinking about you

He loves your country twang and the way you pronounce certain words

He tries to imitate you but just sounds like he’s having a stroke

He was just feeding Rhonda at your farm when he heard a big band and a small scream

But the thing about this scream was it was yours

So he immediately panics-starts to run towards the barn where he heard the thud

And runs straight into the door because it’s a pull not a push

After he figures that out he flings the door open and stops dead in his tracks

You are on the floor, bleeding from your head with an angry horse above you

Activate big bro mode

He is hauling ass with you in his arms towards Rhonda

He does not care that you say you’re fine

“No you are not fine you’re bleeding!”

He sets you on his bed before sprinting around the farm locking everything up for you and then driving to the closest doctor/hospital

Doesn’t let you fall asleep- he (correctly) guesses that you have a concussion because duh?? You were kicked by a horse!

Once you’re admitted he worries until he’s allowed into your room in the hospital

Then he relaxes a bit

You’re safe, you’re gonna be fine and he’s never letting you near horses on your own

He doesn’t care if you’re a farmer and it’s your job- it’s not happening

Holds your hand and sleeps in the chair next to your bed

Drives you home and pampers you for the next week until he can see the cut on your head has completely healed

Then he lets you do stuff by yourself-

But that horse has lost his trust- you’re not going anywhere near it without him

He does not care that it’s name is Sugarplum

Sugarplum has clearly got it out for you in his eyes

#brozone #trolls band together #brozone x reader #brozone john dory #brozone john dory x reader #trolls john dory #trolls John Dory x reader #trolls jd x reader

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dreamofbecoming · 1 year

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here we are at last! there have been a bunch of posts lately about how neither eddie nor robin have any gaydar to speak of, but steve canonically does, and also vickie definitely left fast times paused on purpose as a flag, and frankly all of you are just so objectively True and Correct that i had no choice but to write about it. parts 1 and 2 not strictly necessary for context but definitely set in the same universe

part 1 part 2 ao3

platonic stobin, rockie, steddie

rating: t

wc: 8.4k (holy fuck it got away from me)

---

Robbie isn't drunk yet, but she's getting there.

Honestly, Steve should probably slow her down, but what the hell. They're celebrating, after all. He'll cut her off in a bit, but she deserves to have some fun. They all do.

It's been three weeks since Eddie got out of the hospital, one since he was finally let off bedrest. Or, not exactly bedrest, but enough restrictions that he was basically confined to the trailer (brand new, courtesy of Owens and his goons), and from the way he complained the whole time you'd think they had him chained to the bedposts.

Hm. Maybe thinking of Eddie chained to bedposts isn't the best use of Steve's time. Not here, anyway. That's a Later activity.

It's the first house party any of them have been invited to since Spring Break, thrown by one of Robin's band friends. None of them planned on going, except that two days ago a frantic call came over the All Hands channel on the walkie that El had finally broken through, Max was awake, and the doctors thought her arms and legs would eventually, almost, make a full recovery, granted with lots of physical therapy.

Apparently the only useful thing Vecna ever did was break her bones at right angles so they could set them cleanly. Her vision will probably never fully return, but she's alive. She's alive, and she's awake, and she's apparently being a complete menace to the nurses, which is more comforting to Steve than any of the rest of it, so how could they ask for anything else?

Steve still feels like he's taking his first real breath after drowning every time he inhales. He's not sure he'll ever stop feeling this relief. It's so sharp it's almost painful.

So they're at this party, and they're celebrating. There's a real celebration planned, of course, with the whole Party and assorted extras, Murray (ugh) and Jonathan's California friend (who seems nice), Joyce and Hopper (and isn't that a trip) and Eddie and Wayne (Eddie read him in immediately, to no one's surprise) and everyone else. They've got plans to descend on Steve's house as soon as Max is allowed out of the hospital, where they'll presumably trash his mother's nice white carpets and eat through his snacks like locusts and enrage his neighbors with their shrieking in the pool. Hopper and Wayne will fight over who gets to work the grill until Joyce gets fed up and takes over and Eddie will commandeer the sound system and Robin will laugh at Steve for frantically switching between Host Mode and Lifeguard Mode until she finds someone big enough to sit on him and make him eat something. He can't wait.

But for now, they're at this party, and they're celebrating. With someone else's alcohol, which is a nice treat for Steve.

He's leaning against the wall by the kitchen doorway, sipping something Robin made him that tastes like paint thinner and looks like undiluted red food dye. He's surprised it hasn't eaten through the bottom of the cup like that green gunk from the elevator. He doesn't quite feel like joining the crush of people in the living room. He's felt a little off since Spring Break, a little lost inside his head. He knows Robin can tell, but she hasn't pushed him, other than dragging him here tonight. He's so grateful for her he thinks he could cry.

He doesn't, though, he just watches her from the kitchen doorway, squished on a couch between Vickie and who he thinks might be one of Eddie's bandmates. He recognizes him from those nights he would pick the kids up from Hellfire at the school, and also from Eddie's hospital room. He's got fluffy hair and a flannel shirt around his waist. Gary, maybe? Garth? Steve's not sure. He'd introduce himself and find out for sure, but apparently, carrying Eddie's bleeding not-quite-corpse on his back into the hospital and throwing around his father's name until someone agreed to treat him before collapsing in the lobby from his own injuries wasn't quite enough to erase the contempt for King Steve, so Steve's been mostly avoiding those guys. Eddie swears he's working on it. Steve...should maybe care more than it feels like he does. He thinks maybe a lot of things should feel more...more, than they do. But that's a problem for Later Steve. It's fine. He's fine. He's handling it.

He watches Robin, and she's laughing, and she's not quite drunk yet, and he's glad for her. This is what he wanted. This is what he wished for, on that flipped over bucket, in that field. That they'd all get through it. That they'd all get to keep smiling and doing stupid teenager shit. He maybe wishes he felt a little more like someone who wanted to do stupid teenager shit and a little less like someone watching his friends have fun from behind a plate-glass window, but he'll take it. Whatever he can get, he'll take it.

He looks back at Robin, and, huh. She's still laughing, but now she's between Eddie and Maybe-Gary-Maybe-Garth. He follows Robin's less-than-subtle (crimeny, this girl, he's gotta teach her a goddamn poker face) longing gaze and sees a flash of red heading for the back door.

This feels like a chance to do something useful. Robin will be ok, Eddie will keep an eye on her.

He follows Vickie out the back door. He finds her leaned against the back of the house, her eyes closed, her head tilted back. She's smiling. She really is pretty, Steve can see why Robin likes her. God, he hopes he's right about her. Either way, he's determined to find out. It's what Robin deserves.

"Hey, Vickie. Come out for some fresh air?"

Her smile gets bigger when she turns to him. He really hopes he's right about her, she's a fucking sweetheart. He hopes he isn't about to do something hugely stupid. Knowing him, he probably is, but also knowing him, he's gonna do it anyway.

"Hey Steve! Yeah, I was just getting a little warm in there. How about you? Smoke break?"

"Nah, I'm trying to quit. Robin hates them, she keeps stealing them out of my mouth, so it's somehow more expensive and I don't even get to smoke them. Easier to just stop. Which is probably her goal," he laughs.

"You and Robin are pretty close, huh?"

"Oh yeah, platonic soulmates. With a capital P!" He makes an incredibly dorky gesture with his hands, and has to stop himself from facepalming. Great going, dingus.

Still, Vickie's smile gets a little wider, which he thinks is probably a win.

"That's why I came out here, actually. I wanted a chance to talk to you." Her eyebrows go up. Always with the goddamn eyebrows around here. "Not, like, in a creepy way! Or, well, I guess that's what a creep would say, but I swear I'm not! I just meant, because Robin really likes you," shit, too much, "I mean, she likes hanging out with you, and she's my best friend and all, so I wanted to. Um. Get to know you better. You know. For Robin."

"...For Robin."

He groans. "I swear I didn't used to be like this. I used to be able to talk like a normal person. I didn't know that was a skill you could lose! I would have worked harder at it!" She's laughing at him now, but at least she's polite enough to hide her giggles behind her hand. That's something.

He sighs, and throws his head back to take a deep breath and try and come back to his body, like Robin showed him. Having therapist parents sounds like a nightmare to Steve, but it has its uses, he guesses.

He looks back at Vickie, who is watching him with what seems like more amusement than concern, so he's taking that as a win. If she's laughing, she's not running away. He sticks his hand out.

"Hi, I'm Steve. You're really important to the most important person in my life, so I'd really like to be your friend." He tries to give her his most winning smile, but honestly he's a little worried his teeth are still red from that godawful drink.

She grins at him, still definitely laughing at him a little but more genuine than before, and shakes his hand. "I'm Vickie, and you're really important to someone I hope will become really important to me, so I'd love to be your friend."

He doesn't breathe a sigh of relief, but it's a close thing. King Steve decided to stay in tonight, apparently, so he's on his own, and boy oh boy is he worse than he remembered.

"So, new friend, what do you want to get to know about me?"

Thank fuck Vickie's carrying so much of the weight here, honestly.

"We could, uh, talk about movies?" Jesus Christ, where did all the goddamn Harrington Charm go, anyway? Did Vecna eat it?!

There go the eyebrows again. He's cursed, he really is. "Movies?"

"Yeah, you know, I work at a movie store. Or I did, anyway. With Robbie. Pretty sure it went under in the quake though. That or Keith just fired us and didn't bother calling to let us know." He laughs awkwardly. He's doing fucking everything awkwardly, honestly. He hasn't even asked the question yet and he's already sweating bullets. No wonder Bobbie was so scared to confront this head-on. "Anyway, it can tell you a lot about a person, you know. Their favorite movie."

Come on, take the bait. Take it.

She nods seriously at him. "Oh I get that for sure, you can learn a lot about someone by their favorite book. I used to volunteer at the library and there was always gossip about who checked out what romance novel and whether that meant their marriage was on the rocks, you know?" She giggles, hiding behind her hand for a second. "I guess it was kind of mean, but we never said anything to anyone outside the library, and never to their face, you know? It was just something to keep us entertained on slow days."

Fantastic, he can work with this.

"Oh totally, I completely get it. Robs and I did the same thing at Family Video, making up stories about what we imagined people's lives were like that they were renting Casablanca and Gremlins on the same night, you know? Like, what does that evening look like? Which one do they watch first?"

She laughs. Perfect. She took the bait, now he's just gotta reel her in. Or something. He's never been fishing.

"You know, I usually rent my movies from Family Video. Did you guys ever look up my rental history?"

Aaaand, got her!

"You know, I think we did, actually, not that I'm helping the creep allegations," he winks at her. She slaps him on the shoulder. There we go, there's the Harrington Charm. Jesus fuck, where has it been all night? Sleeping?

Moment of truth, here we go.

"Fast Times At Ridgemont High, right?" He keeps his eyes on her face while he says it. He needs to see how she reacts.

She's been watching a raccoon rummaging through the neighbor's trash, but as soon as he mentions the movie, she whips her head around and looks at him sharply.

She studies his face intently in the glow from the floodlights above the garage. Whatever she finds, the fear in her eyes fades just slightly to caution. All good signs.

Fuck, this is harder than he remembers. Talking in code and reading all the subtle little shifts in body language involved in this conversation is stretching muscles in his brain he's forgotten he had. His friends these days all just sort of...say whatever they mean, straight out. He thought it was weird and off-putting at first, but now that he's doing this dance again, he's realizing he hasn't missed it.

The things he does for Robin, honestly.

He can see the moment she decides to trust him, even though she's still tense. She takes a deep breath, like she's gearing up for something. "That's a good one, for sure. You know, I think I maybe forgot to rewind it the last time I returned it? I paused it at my favorite part, but I think I got distracted and never finished it. I hope that doesn't cause too much trouble for you guys at your job. I'd hate to be one of those customers."

Jesus, this chick is brave. She's basically just coming right out and saying it! Holy shit, he's about to get Robbie a girlfriend! Ok, ok be cool. Bring it home, nice and easy.

"Nah, not a problem at all. Besides, I think I remember that tape, and we have the same favorite part, I think. All three of us." Fuck he hopes this isn't a mistake. If he just fucked up and outed Robin for no reason he'll- fuck, he doesn't know what he'll do. Ask El to open the gate back up so he can throw himself into it, probably.

Vickie's eyes go wide. "Robin too?" There's something like hope in her voice. He thinks. He hopes, anyway. Maybe he's just projecting, but he really thinks he's been right on the money from the start. He just needs to prove it to Rob and give them both a push.

"Yeah, Robin too. Now me, I like Fast Times a lot, but I also really like The Outsiders, you know?" A truth for a truth. Nothing is free, he remembers this dance. Trust is always earned.

He didn't realize her eyes could get any bigger, but somehow they do. Slowly, a grin spreads across her face. "Really? Uh, me too! Those are...both...really good movies, you know?"

"Totally!" He's grinning now too, he can't help it. He's so excited for Robbie he might explode. This is the most alive he's felt in weeks!

"Not Rob, though, she loves Fast Times, but not so much The Outsiders. She can be, uh. Pretty nervous, you know? To talk about her taste in movies. I think she might be worried you don't like Fast Times as much as she does, but I know she really wants to, uh, watch it with you. So you might have to be the one to, you know, tell her how much you like it, and maybe ask her to watch it together?"

He's getting lost in the metaphor here. That's clear enough, right? Robbie isn't going to believe him about Vickie liking boobies unless she walks up to her and tells her "I like women, go out with me," in very small words, so he really hopes he got the message across. He needs Vickie to take the wheel on this.

Luckily Vickie is nodding enthusiastically. "For sure! I can do that!" She's halfway back to the house, almost tripping over her feet, before she looks back at him sheepishly.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, that was so rude of me, I just got so excited and I wanted to-"

"Hey, no worries, that was the goal, right? This is what I was hoping for when I came out here to talk to you. She, uh..." He shouldn't. He should stick to the code, just in case, he should be careful, it's Robbie's life on the line here.

But it's also her happiness.

"She didn't believe me. About the Fast Times thing. And then we ran into you at The War Zone, and she was totally convinced I was wrong, but I knew I had to ask. Just in case. I just really want her to be happy, you know?" There. He hasn't actually said the words. If it goes sideways, they still have plausible deniability.

And then, well. There's always Plan B. He doesn't exactly want to burn Vickie's house down, but he will. For Robin, he'll do anything.

Vickie is smiling softly at him. She really is sweet, she and Bobbie are gonna be so cute together. He can't wait to tease them into oblivion.

"I'm glad she has a friend like you, Steve."

He scrubs a hand across the back of his neck, feeling weirdly self-conscious. "Yeah, well, you know. You've got a friend like me, now, too, right?"

There's that bright smile again. "Right!"

"Alright, go on. Go get your girl."

Good lord, redheads sure can blush, huh?

He waits a couple of minutes before heading back in himself, enjoying the night air. It's not quite the height of summer yet, so the evenings aren't as muggy as they'll be in a month or so. For the first time since he crawled out of that gate with Eddie lashed to his back with the remains of the rope ladder he cut to protect Dustin, he's feeling the breeze on his skin without feeling like he's wrapped in plastic, like there's a wall around him, keeping from being part of the world. He wants to savor it, in case it goes away again.

When he does make his way back in, he almost trips over Robin, who's grabbing what should probably be her last drink. At least it's just a beer this time, if it was more of that awful concoction from earlier he'd probably take it away from her, pouting be damned. They could have flambéed Vecna with that shit, nobody should be putting it in their bodies.

Her face lights up when she notices him, and she flings herself into his arms.

"Oof, shit, Buckley, doing ok there? You having fun?"

"Sooooo much fun, Stevie!" She nuzzles her face into the crook of his shoulder. Yeah, if she's this cuddly in public, this should definitely be her last drink, especially if Vickie wants to make any kind of move tonight. She's not usually this touchy outside of the really bad nightmare nights. "Missed you though. Where'd you go? My bubba disappeared."

"Aw, Bobs, I was just outside getting some air, I promise. I didn't go anywhere."

She shakes her head stubbornly, her nose dragging along his collarbone. "Noooo, you left. Not now, before. After. In the hospital. We all came back but you left. You went inside your big stupid fluffy head and you don't come out anymore. I miss you."

It's a good thing Robin's face is still hidden in his shoulder, because he can't quite keep his expression from crumpling. He hasn't meant to hurt her, he hasn't meant to hurt anyone, he swears. He's trying, he wants to come back, wants to be normal again, he just...he feels like part of him is still stuck at the bottom of Lover's Lake, watching everyone above him on the surface moving on and living life, but not able to reach them.

He holds her tighter to his chest, petting her hair. It's a mess, like when she first wakes up in the morning. Maybe she fell off the couch or something while he was outside.

"I'm sorry, Bobbin-bird. I didn't mean to go away. I'm working on it, ok? I promise," he murmurs reassurances into her hair, trying to erase the sadness he can hear in her slurred words. He's shit at talking about feelings, especially his own, but not with Robin. Never with Robin. Saying true things to Robin isn't any harder than thinking them to himself, and honestly that's basically the same thing. They pretty much only have the one brain between them.

She pulls back, studying his face closely with bleary eyes, squeezing his cheeks between her hands. "Promise?"

"I promise, Bobbie." He tries to project as much sincerity as he can muster. She's edging past tipsy, but not actually drunk yet, so she should remember this moment just fine tomorrow, and he won't have to do it again.

Who he is kidding? They're definitely having this conversation again tomorrow. Maybe he can distract her with teasing about Vickie. Where did she go, anyway?

Robin grins, apparently satisfied for now. "Good!" She smacks a kiss to his forehead and finally lets go of his face. Thank god. He loves her, more than anything in the world, but she's a goddamned sweaty drunk.

Before she can say anything else, a redheaded streak comes stumbling into the kitchen.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Vickie leans on the kitchen counter, trying to catch her breath.

Steve looks to Robin to see how she'll respond, and, oh. Well, shit. Robin is...frozen, apparently. She's very obviously focused on Vickie, which is good, because otherwise Steve would be having trouble with flashing back to Nancy's thousand-yard stare in the Upside Down, or the whites of Max's eyes, but the part of her brain that lets her, you know, say and do things, appears to have shut down.

Looks like it's Steve's turn with the communal brain, lucky him. Time to step in and save this, if he can.

"Vickie! Hi, you know, I was just wondering where you ran off to? I was about to tell Robin to track you down, to talk about that movie we talked about earlier, but it looks like you found us instead!" He jams an elbow into Robin's side as subtly as he can, but she still doesn't move.

Vickie is looking between them, still breathing a little heavy. "Yeah, I went looking for you as soon as I came back in, but Gareth said-" Gareth! That was it! "-you went to the bathroom, and did you know there are six bathrooms in this house? Who needs that many bathrooms? I think Angela only has one sibling, why would anyone need six bathrooms for four people? That's so crazy! Anyway, I'm glad I found you, Robin. I'm, uh, getting a little overwhelmed with all the people out here, so I was hoping you might want to find a room that's maybe a little quieter, so we can talk a bit? Just the two of us?" Damn, this girl's got guts. Steve likes her.

Robin continues to stand in front of the fridge like the world's prettiest scarecrow. Come on, babygirl, you can do this! He elbows her again.

"Vickie! Hi! Steve, Vickie's here! Hi!" Steve and Vickie both startle a little because, wow, ok, volume, Buckley, damn. Still. Progress.

"Sure is, babe. Tell you what, why don't I take this-" he plucks the unopened beer out of her slack hand, "-and you and Vickie can go sit down somewhere quiet and talk about movies, huh?"

Robin blinks at him owlishly. "Movies?"

He's about to make another veiled reference to the boobies conversation when Vickie blows all of her air out of her nose and stomps one foot like that one girl in the Chocolate Factory movie who reminds him of his cousin Shauna.

"I'm sorry, I can't take it! I just spent ten minutes outside talking to Steve in ridiculous codes and another ten minutes running up and down the stairs in this insane house and I'm exhausted. I can't take the metaphors anymore. Sorry, Steve, no offense."

"Hey, none taken. It's pretty exhausting, you're not wrong. I just had to be safe."

She shakes her head. "No, totally, I completely understand. I appreciate it. I'm just secret coded-out tonight, you know? Robin, do you want to go upstairs with me and talk? I have something to ask you and I'd really rather do it in private, I don't really want any of these people listening, you know?" She waves her hand at the open doorway to the living room, which is still packed with people.

Robbie's head has been bouncing back and forth between them like she's watching a tennis match, eyes wide.

"Huh? Me? What?"

Oh geez. She's shorting out.

"Bobbie, look at me." She meets his eye, and he can see the nerves threatening to overwhelm her. "Trust me?"

She nods. "Uh huh. 'Course, bubba."

Well that warms him right up, but it's not about him right now. "Good. Go with Vickie, babe. It'll be good, I promise." He hopes he can promise that, at least. He's pretty sure he can. And if it goes bad, they always have Plan B.

Vickie holds out a hand, and Robin stares at her like it might bite her, before taking it gingerly. Both girls immediately burst into bright red blushes, and under any other circumstance he would laugh at them, but this is a delicate moment. They need him to be cool. He can be cool. He can be so goddamn cool.

Vickie leads Robin out of the room and towards the stairs, both of them still blushing like crazy and refusing to meet each other's eyes, and Steve can finally let out the breath he's been holding in a whoosh and slump back against the counter. He snags a bottle opener off the fridge- neat, it's got a magnet on it!- and pops the top on the beer he stole off Robbie.

“Well I hate to break this to you, King Steve, but she’s definitely about to steal your girl.”

Steve freezes with the bottle at his lips.

He sets the beer down on the counter and very carefully turns around. Munson is alone, thank fuck. This is fixable. He can deal with a single person. If it had been a crowd, or fuck, god forbid, someone like Gareth, who hates him, and might try and use this? Hurt Robbie to hurt him? Well, he's got his nailbat in the trunk, and he isn't afraid to use it, but he doesn't think Hopper would be thrilled to have to bail him out of jail.

"Whatever you think you heard, Munson, if Robbie gets hurt, it won't matter that you're one of us now. I'll finish what those bats started. I won't be happy about it, because you're a pretty cool dude and I like hanging out with you, but I'll do it for her if you make me." He makes sure his voice is low and even, and he meets Eddie's eyes head on. He wants to be very clear, this is not a joke. He will defend her if he has to.

He doesn't think he'll have to, not from Munson, but he isn't 100% sure, and he's taken enough risks with Robbie's safety tonight. He doesn't trust his luck enough to count on it working out a second time in less than an hour.

Munson's eyes go wide with shock- he clearly wasn't expecting Steve to meet him with quite that much aggression. He puts his hands up in surrender and leans back away from Steve.

Steve fights not to be distracted by the way his torso curves, graceful in a way he has no right to be with his wounds still scabbing over. Not the moment, Steve. Get it together, for fuck's sake.

"Hey, whoa, easy big guy. We're cool, man. Stand down."

There's a tense moment where they just...stand there, sizing each other up, unsure where to go from here.

Eddie tugs a lock of hair in front of his face, nibbling on it nervously. It's cuter than it has any right to be, honestly.

"I didn't- uh. Fuck, man. Please tell me I didn't just tip you off to flirting you didn't notice. It would suck so, so bad if I exposed Birdie without her knowing."

Steve takes a moment to consider this, frankly absurd, situation. He holds up a finger for Eddie to wait a minute, and checks both ways down the hallway outside before closing the kitchen door and leaning back against it to keep it shut. At least now it'll definitely just be the two of them, which is one more than should be having this conversation, but he doesn't see a way out of it, so this will have to do.

When he turns back to Eddie, he looks even more nervous than before.

"I'm perfectly aware of the flirting, considering I'm the one who went out of my way to set them up tonight. You didn't out anyone, and I should have been the one to make sure the door was closed before I got them in a room together, so it's not your fault for finding out. You understand you can't say anything to anyone, ever, though, right?"

Because he's apparently doomed to be accosted with eyebrow raises from everyone around him anytime he says anything at all until he dies, Eddie's are lost somewhere under his bangs. He looks...impressed. Huh, that's kind of nice. Steve resists the urge to preen.

"'Course, man, I'm well-versed in the code of silence." Something in his face softens, and Steve can feel the sincerity in his next words. "Birdie's a friend, and Finnegan seems like a real sweetie, I wouldn't ever want to hurt them like that. Cross my heart." He does, in fact, draw a cross on his chest with one long, ringed finger. What a dork, holy shit. Steve wants to put that finger in his mouth.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect you to be so cool with something like that. In general, but also especially since you and Buckley are, y'know." He waves his hand expansively around his head, the kitchen lights glinting off his rings, and Steve has to fight the urge to bat at it like a cat with a laser pointer. Jesus Christ, Harrington, focus. The man just called you a homophobe, get your shit together.

He decides, very magnanimously, he thinks, to ignore the homophobe bit, honing in on the rest. "Me and her are...what, exactly?"

"I mean, aren't you guys like, a thing?" Oh Jesus fuck. Not again.

"Ugh, no, where the hell do people keep getting that? Robin and I are just friends, ok? Platonic soulmates. Capital P!" He throws his hands in the air in frustration.

"-capital P," Eddie choruses with him, "I know, I know, I just, shit, man, I dunno, I figured you were..."

"Were what?"

"...Lying? Shit, that sounds worse out loud, sorry! I just mean, because, you know, Henderson keeps saying-"

"Oh, well if Henderson says it, it must be true," Steve rolls his eyes.

"Well fuck me for trusting the kid who calls you his best friend, I guess!"

They glare at each other across the room for a minute, before the ridiculousness of this moment catches up to Steve and he drops his chin to his chest, huffing a laugh.

Eddie looks confused, and still nervous, and a little incredulous. Also a lot adorable, but that doesn't feel relevant. "Ok, I'm so lost, man. I just came in here for a beer, and this has been an emotional rollercoaster I was unprepared for."

Yeah, that about sums it up.

He hasn't spent much time with Eddie since he woke up, spending those weeks juggling babysitting duties and his own injuries and helping with the relief effort and sitting vigil at Max's side. He popped in on Eddie when he was in the building for Max, but the Munson room always had someone in it- Wayne, or Dustin, or Mike, or one of the Corroded Coffin guys- and Steve always felt a bit like an intruder. So he hasn't had a chance to feel out the suspicions he formed during that surreal week when everything was still in the process of exploding, and honestly he's been feeling a little too distant to work up the energy to bother. Robin's bugged him about it once or twice since March, but he shrugged her off each time and she hasn't brought it up in a while.

Ah, what the hell. It's already been such a weird night, and Steve is honestly feeling better than he has in weeks, and he wants to ride this high wherever it'll take him.

Emotional rollercoaster, huh? Well, Steve can make that worse.

At least Eddie hasn't seemed homophobic, kind of the opposite, actually. That's a good sign if Steve's ever seen one.

He pushes off the door, stalking toward Eddie with intent and digging deep inside himself for whatever remains of the person he used to be, who could drop panties with a single look. Eddie's eyes go very round, and he stumbles back a little into the counter.

"You know, Munson, I've had a question I've been meaning to ask you for a while now. Haven't found a good moment."

"Oh yeah?" Eddie's voice comes out in what can only be called a squeak, and Steve feels powerful. That rush of confidence he hasn't felt since BN (Before Nancy) fills his chest, and he can feel his grin turn sharp. "Ho- uh." Eddie clears his throat. "How long's a while?"

Steve purses his lips, relishing the way Eddie's eyes drop down like he can't help it and his cheeks flush, and pretends to consider the question. "Oh, since Skull Rock, probably."

"O-oh? That's. Um. That is a long time." He's still staring at Steve's lips. Good. "Well, shoot, Stevie-boy. Ask away."

Steve lets his smile spread across his face slowly, keeping Eddie's eyes where he wants them. Yeah, he's still got it. Like riding a bike.

"Do you wear this bandana on purpose, or is it just a fashion statement?"

Eddie's eyes snap up to meet his own, shocked.

"Wh-what? Bandana? I. Um. What?"

"Are you flagging, Eddie?" Steve doesn't back up, toe to toe with Eddie as he reaches out and tugs lightly on the hanky trailing out of his back pocket, as always.

He may not have had the energy to talk to Eddie about it yet, but his curiosity did get the better of him after the "earthquakes," and he did dig out that zine where he originally learned about the code. He knows what a black hanky in the back left pocket means now. It's...a little daunting, but not a turn-off. Not at all. Kind of the other thing.

God he hopes Eddie knows what it means.

Eddie seems floored by this line of questioning. He's bright red and sputtering, his mouth opening and closing without saying anything. Steve lets himself stare. This'll go however it goes, but he's not ashamed. He's no more embarrassed to want Eddie than he would be to want a girl, which is to say, not at all.

"I- you- what? What? You- you know what flagging is?" He hisses the end of the sentence in a harsh whisper, so much like Robin did when he first told her about his crush that he can't stop himself from giggling.

Wrong move, since Eddie clearly takes this personally, and his expression shutters closed. Whoops.

"Hey, hey, no no no, none of that, hey. I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you, I swear."

"Right, sure, I believe that, considering there's nothing goddamn else to laugh at in this kitchen, Harrington." Eddie is glaring at the floor, arms crossed defensively across his chest.

Alright, maybe he gets what Vickie was saying earlier. Fuck the codes, fuck the metaphors. He can take Eddie in a fight if he has to. He's a simple guy, ok? He just wants to use his goddamn words.

Robin would be so proud.

He goes slowly, telegraphing every move so Eddie can stop him if he wants. He reaches for his hands where they're tucked into his elbows, gently easing them out until they're clasped between them.

He takes the opportunity to finally feel those rings he's fantasized about, seeing if they're as cool as they look. They aren't, they're warm from Eddie's skin. He spins one of them around Eddie's finger with his thumb, transfixed.

Eddie still looks tense, but now instead of hurt and distrust on his face, he looks like Steve hit in him in the head with something heavy. His pretty eyes are so big, blown completely black as he stares at their joined hands.

"I'm sorry I laughed. I was remembering the first time I told Robin I had a crush on you," Eddie's head snaps up again, "and she sounded exactly like you did just now, with that angry whisper voice. It made me laugh, that you guys are so alike. It makes sense, I guess. She's my favorite person, so of course I'd like you, when you're like. Not the same, I guess, but kinda a similar flavor of weird. She says I have a thing for nerds, y'know?"

Eddie blinks at him for a minute, apparently speechless. Some nerves start to creep back in, since the brief miscommunication scare burned out most of that white hot King Steve confidence in his chest. They must show on his face, because Eddie visibly shakes himself and finally opens his mouth.

"You have a crush on me?"

"Yeah, man, since the Upside Down, pretty much. The first time."

"Don't call me man when you're telling me you have a crush on me!"

Steve has to laugh at the comically offended look on Eddie's face. "Sorry. Do you prefer Eds? Baby? Big Boy?"

Eddie is so red Steve is surprised his face isn't steaming. He yanks one hand out of Steve's grip to smack him in the chest. Steve laughs and lets him, dropping their still-joined hands down between them and tangling their fingers.

"You're a fucking dick, Stevie. Can't believe I like you."

Steve grins at him, big and hopeful. "Yeah? You like me, Munson?"

Eddie shoves at him with a groan, but doesn't let go of his hand. "Pretty sure everyone in this town likes you, King Steve. It's like a rite of passage, or something."

Steve feels like he could walk on air, he isn't even going to get fussy about the King Steve thing. They can talk about that later. Eddie likes him! Eddie has a crush on him! He could fight a demogorgon with his bare hands right now, that's how powerful he feels.

Eddie gets quiet after a second, tugging a curl in front of his mouth again. Seems like a nervous tick, maybe. Steve notes that for later. He may not be much of a reader, but he's going to learn to read Eddie Munson like a book if it's the last thing he does.

"I thought, um. I kinda...hn. Ugh."

"Gonna need more than that, baby, I'm not fluent in Munson yet." That glow in his chest picks up a little again at the way Eddie flushes so pink and pretty at the petname.

"I thought you were straight." It comes out all in a rush, the words mumbled and slurred together through his hair.

Finally, it's Steve's turn to raise an eyebrow. Take that, universe! "You meet a lot of straight guys who know what the Hanky Code is?"

Eddie shakes his head in wonderment. "Still can't believe The Steve Harrington knows what flagging is."

He's about to reply when the kitchen door flies open with a bang that sends the boys leaping backwards away from each other. Steve finds himself braced between Eddie and the door, brandishing the bottle opener from the fridge in front of him like a knife. He doesn't even remember grabbing it.

Robin is standing in the doorway, eyes wild and hair frizzing out around her head in a way she would despise if she was sober and not obviously preoccupied with something else.

"Jesus, Robs, you about gave me a heart attack, what the hell?"

"Sorry bubba, not important right now!"

He rolls his eyes. Of course not. Just his trauma that could have made him stab her if he hadn't caught himself, nothing major. This girl, he swears.

"Dingus! Focus!"

"Focus on what, Bobs?"

"She wants to kiss me, Steve!"

His eyes go wide. Thank fuck the door bounced off the wall and swung back shut behind her. That's not something to shout to a party full of gossipy strangers.

Still. This is a big moment! "Bobbie! What'd I tell you, huh?" He picks her up around the middle, swinging her around while she cackles wildly and bats at his shoulders.

"Put me down, you lunatic! Steven Elizabeth, you put me down right now, or I swear I'll never speak to you again!" She's laughing too hard for him to take her seriously, though.

He does take pity on her and set her back on her feet, stealing one more tight hug. He's so happy for her he could scream. This night has turned out better than he could have imagined.

"Tell me everything! What happened! What did she say? What did you say? How was the kiss?"

"Well we didn't actually kiss yet, exactly."

"Wait, then how do you know she wants to kiss you?"

"She told me! She said she thinks I'm really pretty and funny and smart and she's like you! She likes both, and she says her and Dan are done, like for real for real all the way done, and she held my hand, Steve! And she wants to go on a date! And she said she wanted to kiss me!"

"That's awesome! I'm so happy for you, Bobs. What did you say when she said she wanted to kiss you?"

"I came down to tell you about it, obviously."

Oh, Bobbie, what the fuck. "Robin James Buckley. Do not tell me that a pretty girl tried to kiss you and you ran away and left her upstairs!"

The situation finally seems to register, and Robbie's hands go flailing around her face the way they do when she's overwhelmed.

"Oh no! Steve! Oh no!"

"Go, you insane person! Go back upstairs right now and kiss her this minute! Go!"

He physically herds her to the door, at which point she finally notices Eddie, who has been standing in the corner where Steve shoved him behind him when the door crashed open, watching them like he's wishing he had popcorn.

Fuck. Steve was so excited for Robbie he totally forgot he was here.

Robin's body goes rigid and all the color drains out of her face all at once.

Steve grabs her by the shoulders. "Hey, Bobbin, eyes on me, ok? Eyes on me." She finally drags her eyes away from where she's been staring at Eddie in horror, and Steve's heart breaks at the fear on her face. "It's ok, Bobbie, I swear to god it's ok. I was right, alright? I was right about him, we were talking before you came in. He's safe, I swear. We're safe, Bobbie, I promise I'll keep you safe."

"I promise I won't say a word, Birdie. Friends of Dorothy gotta stick together, right?" Eddie pipes up from the corner, stepping forward slowly and carefully, hands out front like he's approaching a skittish animal.

"You're- you're like u- me?" Oh, he loves her so much. Still protecting him, just in case.

"It's ok Bobs, I told him about me. I was about to get a kiss of my own before you came in, I think, actually."

Eddie jumps on the opportunity to cut the tension, ever the showman. Steve likes him so goddamn much. He grins impishly at Steve, that wide pretty mouth stretching out until those dimples Steve can't wait to kiss appear on his cheeks.

"Oh, you were, were you? Pretty presumptuous, Stevie-boy. Who says I kiss on the first date? Maybe I'm not that kind of boy."

"Oh, wow, ok, this is gonna be a lot to deal with, huh? Alright, I'm glad I'm not getting hate-crimed, and I'm glad you're finally doing something about your big gay crush, Dingus, but if you'll excuse me, I have a girl to kiss, and also I want to be far away from," she waves a hand between them, "whatever this is. Good luck boys, don't kiss in unlocked rooms! Vickie says she can give me a ride home, so I'll call you in the morning, bubba. Love you bye!"

She's out of the room like a shot, hopefully back up to Vickie, who he hopes is prepared to get used to this kind of thing. There are so many things to love about Robin Buckley, and honestly, this is one of them, but he can see why she might be an acquired taste. He thinks anyone who doesn't acquire that taste is a moron and not worth knowing, but he can see how those people might exist.

"Love you too, Robs!" he calls down the hallway, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it. It's not a lock, but as long as he doesn't move, it'll do. And given that Eddie appears to have found his confidence and is leaning over him, bracing his arms on either side of Steve's head, he doesn't think he'll have to move any time soon.

Unless someone needs the kitchen, but they've been doing just fine so far, so they can burn that bridge when they come to it, or whatever people say.

He reaches down to toy with Eddie's belt loops, tugging him close and grinning up at him through his eyelashes, privately thrilled at the novelty of being shorter than his partner for once. Granted, he's slumped down the door a little, but still. It's nice. He can see why girls like it.

Eddie comes closer easily, resting their foreheads together. He reaches down to fiddle with a lock of Steve's hair and Steve feels like leaning into it like a cat getting its ears rubbed.

Lot of cat feelings tonight. He's not sure what to do with that.

"So.”

“So.”

“Steven Elizabeth, huh?"

Steve can't help but laugh, the tension broken once more. "Yeah, Rob's idea. We switched. Steven Elizabeth and Robin James. So we always have a piece of each other."

"Jesus H Christ, you guys are fucking adorable. This shit is why everyone thinks you're dating, though, you know that, right?"

"Ugh, yeah, I know. I don't actually mind, I mean, I should be so lucky, you know? And she's like. My person. My most important person. And we're probably gonna get married someday just so we can be each other's next of kin, and because it's not like she could marry whoever she ends up with anyway, or me if I end up with a guy, so it's like, why not, you know? I'd be building my life around her anyway, might as well make it legal.

"It's mostly just annoying when our friends don't believe us, because like, we're honest with you guys. Maybe not all of it, like Robbie isn't ready to be out and that's fine and she shouldn't have to be, but it kinda sucks that, like, Dustin thinks I would lie to him, you know? Because I wouldn't. Not about something real. Not when it matters. But he doesn't believe me, and that just. I dunno, man."

"It hurts."

"Yeah."

"I get that. You've been through a lot for these kids, you've put yourself on the line for them, you've given up a lot for them, and when they don't believe you about something like this, it feels like they're saying they don't trust you. Of course that hurts."

Steve swallows down the tears that want to fall. Now isn't the time for vulnerability like that, not in a stranger's crowded house. Still.

"How'd you do that?"

"Do what, sweetheart?" Oh, sweetheart does something to him. If this is how Eddie felt when he called him baby earlier, the blush makes more sense.

"Figure out exactly what I'm trying to say, and make it make sense. Usually only Robbie can do that."

"I dunno, maybe Birdie and me share a brain. Or maybe you and I just make sense to each other."

Steve flattens a palm against Eddie's chest, feeling the soothing thump beneath his hand. He did that. He put his hands on Eddie's chest and his mouth on Eddie's mouth and broke Eddie's ribs and didn't stop until that rhythm started up again. And now Eddie's here, and Eddie's heart is still beating, and Eddie hears him when he talks, and Eddie is looking at his lips again, and Steve suddenly can't go another second without kissing him.

He trails his hand up Eddie's chest, over his neck, savoring the way his breath hitches and the pulse under his palm speeds up. He keeps going, pushing his fingers into that thick riot of curls, already making mental notes of the products he's going to buy for Eddie because Jesus Christ, they're dry.

He tugs, and again, Eddie comes easy. It's not an earth-shattering kiss. There's no tongue, and their noses are a little smushed, and the angle is a little off, and he's kissed enough people that he can tell Eddie probably hasn't, but none of that matters.

He told Robin, back in that field, that he was holding off feelings he knew he would have for Eddie when all was said and done. He knows now he was right, and he's done holding them off. Has been done for a while, maybe.

He doesn't know where this is going, or what Eddie wants, or how they'll manage being two guys in a town like Hawkins, or what their friends will think. If they'll even tell their friends. What he does know is that he wants to find out the answers to all of those, and he wants to find them out with Eddie, and he wants to keep kissing Eddie, and also that he can't keep kissing Eddie here.

He pulls back, pecking that dimple finally, partly to reassure Eddie that he isn't running away and partly because he's wanted to for weeks, and pulls the kitchen door open, checking that the coast is clear before grabbing Eddie's hand and dragging him towards the front door.

"Where we going, Stevie?"

"You drove here, right?"

"Sure did. You want a ride somewhere? I thought you drove Birdie."

"I did, but you've got your van, don't you? Your van with doors that lock and a big open back seat?"

Eddie's eyes go wide, and he flails a little, just like Robin. It makes Steve smile.

"Yep! Yes, yeah, hell yeah, I do have my van, my van with those things, let's go! Chop chop, time's a-wasting! Your chariot awaits!" And he's off, doing that dorky little run for the driveway.

Steve grins, and puts his hands in his pockets, and follows his boy out into the night.

#stranger things #platonic stobin #steve harrington & robin buckley #rockie #rovickie #robin x vickie #robin buckley x vickie #idk what their ship tag is sorry lol #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #vickie stranger things #eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #(eddie is bi too fyi but it doesn’t come up)#my writing #i believe with all my heart that steve’s strategy for nicknaming robin is just a handful of b’s and whatever vowels he finds in his heart #gareth absolutely interrupts them in the van when he wants to go home #and he’s so goddamn annoyed that now he’s going to HAVE to learn to like king steve #because it was one thing when he saved eddie’s life and they were friends now #that could be a one off #but if he likes eddie enough to make out with him in the driveway of a crowded party #he’s in this for the long haul #and that means gareth has to get used to him and learn to get a long #godDAMMIT eddie!#did i make steve go through a depressive episode because i took a break between this part and the last one and lost his voice?#how dare you insinuate such a thing (yeah lol)

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rekino2114 · 5 months

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Mikan tsumiki patching up your wounds

A/n:yesterday, I fell and scraped my hands and knees pretty bad, but on the bright side I got this idea

Mikan was incredibly worried,you were supposed to pick her up for a date half an hour ago, but you still didn't show up, she tried calling and texting you but you just didn't answer.

Her worry subsided a little when she heard the doorbell ring but it came right back even stronger when she saw the state you were in.

You were covered In bruises, some of them were bleeding and you even had a black eye.

"M-my beloved what happened to you?"

"Some people were talking bad about you. I confronted them, but they didn't just use words"

"Why did you do that? Look at where that got you"

"I couldn't just let me talk about my girlfriend like that"

Mikan blushed slightly but shrugged it off and activated her nurse mode

"I'll get you to my bed i-i have a first aid kit"

With her help, you went to her room and laid down on her bed, she told you to stay there and went away for a while and came back with a first aid kit and an ice pack that she put on one of your bruises

"That should take care of the swelling,sorry if it's too cold, now let me clean your blood and patch you up"

As she started doing that you smiled at her

"Thanks mikan sorry if I'm making you work even more"

"I-I don't mind if it's you but please don't do that again, I was so worried"

"Like I told you before I can't just see people insult you and do nothing about it"

"B-but why did you do that? I-i'm not worth protecting like that"

You wanted to caress her cheek to comfort her,but it would have been incredibly painful so you just talked to her

"Don't ever say that again,you deserve all of the love I give you and way more I would get beat up another 100 times to protect you"

Mikan smiled slightly as she finished bandaging you

"T-thank you my beloved no one has ever said that to me I love you"

"I love you too mikan I'd hug you right now but I don't think that would be an easy task"

She giggled and moved to your side, she hugged you but made sure not to touch any of the spots that hurt you

"Tell me if I'm hurting you ok?"

"Yeah don't worry it's fine"

"Good"

She kissed your cheek and snuggled into your neck

"I love you so so much my beloved"

"I know and I love you a lot too"

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa 2 #x reader #mikan tsumiki x reader #danganronpa #mikan tsumiki #gn reader

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sonobeunitsarecool · 25 days

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Yuno's birthday timeline convo

Shidou: Thank you, for keeping Shiina-kun company and helping her during her treatment. It's thanks to your aid, Kashiki-kun, that I can help. Both her, and myself. Even if something were to happen to me, so long as Kashiki-kun is here then I can rest easy. Yuno: No way, I could never. I can't really do anything on my own. Helping Shidou-san is about all I can do. It's just a pretense of make-believe nursing. Shidou: No, Kashiki-kun has a real knack for this. You're perceptive, able to keep a cool head, and you have the guts for it. If you haven't yet decided on your prospects for after graduation, how about aiming for a career in healthcare? Yuno: Really? ...hahah, c'mon. I don't want to think about anything like the future. 'Sides, my current involvement in people's lives... I can't find that funny.

Oh? Yuno's being set up as a possible pillar for the others to lean on, particularly if something bad were to happen to Shidou. It's a part to play, and a heavy mantle. It seems to have many similarities with what is known about her story; it was something that is an "adult's task", and yet, she's performing more than admirably. I don't think she's quite sure why she's doing all this to help out the other prisoners, since she appears to have more of a knack for knowing the emotions behind other people's actions and words rather than her own. I may just be projecting, but it reminds me of alexithymia. Yuno seems to downplay her helpfulness and capabilities, dismissing the future as something dull and unsavoury to think of ("I think 40 years would be just right", much?). She has a lack of care for the future, a type of "who gives a damn" attitude, and a desire to fill that lacking "warmth" that appears to be akin to chronic depression. It's not an actively suicidal type, but more... if Yuno got executed in Milgram, I don't think she'd panic, and give a bitter, cutting remark to Es. It's also interesting how Shidou is also setting Yuno up as a makeshift nurse. He doesn't seem to treat her like a child, unlike those not too much younger than her, acknowledging that working in healthcare could be a field of study that she may have an inclination towards. I had thought that Shidou would more or less develop some kind of god complex in trial 3, based off of some of the lyrics in Triage. Here though, he's attributing much of Mahiru's recovery to Yuno, but still seems to set her at more of an arms' distance. Perhaps he's too deep in "doctor mode"?

#milgram #milgram timelines #yuno kashiki #kashiki yuno #shidou kirisaki #kirisaki shidou #milgram thoughts

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lunatic-pudge · 6 months

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Postal Dad Headcanons

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

(Requested by Gojifan1962)

HAPPY POSTAL 2 DAY!!!!! Can't believe Dude is finally old enough to drink. Homie is going places and I'm proud of him!

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-Aight, so I'm turning this request to a pregnancy/dad headcanons cause why not. Kill two birds with one stone and might as well start from the beginning, breaking the news that you're pregnant

-Now, Dude doesn't seem one to want kids. But since these are my headcanons, too bad. I'm sure he's thought about it before, but never really took time to truly consider it, especially with his deteriorating mental health and a marriage that has lost it's meaning long ago

-He's always had Champ to look at as his baby. His spoiled little baby at that. But now that he isn't with his ex-wife anymore, and is now in a happier relationship (with you, dear reader) having a kid or two might be something for him to start considering, might

-The pregnancy was definitely unplanned. A little "oops" if I may. It was nervewracking to tell him. How would he react? Does he even like kids? Could he handle being a dad?

-So, after some pep talk, you finally tell him. It doesn't register at first. KInda goes in one ear and out the other. It takes a few seconds of him blankly staring at you for him to finally understand what you said. And, surprisingly, he's ecstatic! Pick you up, swing you around, give you some smooches. Maybe some tears even shed

-But then the hard part starts, the big thing is that there's gonna have to be some changes (the crack addiction). After years of doing it, it's gonna be hell to quit. But if he kicks it now, it won't be a problem later when the baby is born. So be ready to have a cranky Dude around. You're both gonna be taking care of each other during this time. He's gonna need a lot of support during this

-Once the rough part of withdrawls is over, and he starts feeling better, he'll be already coming up with ideas for the baby's room. I'd like to think that his trailer has two rooms, one the guys you sleep in, the other is probably where he keeps his weapons. So he's gonna have to find a new place to put all his weapons cause we can't have the new baby trying to use the Napalm Launcher... yet

-At some point, he's gonna question if staying in Paradise would be the best choice. He doesn't want his kid to get hurt or deal with the consequences of being his kid, so you guys might pack the trailer up and start anew somewhere else, let's just hope the chaos doesn't follow

-As the months go on, Dude will start to get anxious. He worries that he won't be a good dad for the little one. He never had a good relationship with his Father's, one's dead and the other he basically has no contact with. He knows you'd make an amazing parent, no doubt about it. But he will need a lot of reassuring that he'll make a good dad. Plz help him

-He's ready to deal with anything and everything you throw at him. Morning sickness, cravings, he will go out at 3am to get you whatever you're craving if it means making you happy. He'll let you lay around and do nothing while he takes care of the place. Hell, even Champ will be loving on you as well. Staying by your side during the whole pregnancy (Dude gets a little jealous)

-When it's baby time, he's in full panic mode. Speeding to the hospital and refusing to leave your side. He'd be ready to fight the doctors and nurses if they don't listen to you or are even slightly rude. By the time the baby is born, he's gonna have a broken hand by how hard you were gripping it and he almost got kicked out of the hospital three times

-So now baby is born and Dude now has a new best friend. He just met his kid and he's already planning all the fun chaos the two will have. He's so excited to finally be able to hold his baby. He already knew he was gonna spoil the fuck out of them

-He's a lot more of an active dad than you'd think he'd be. He's rather a night owl so he doesn't mind being the one who's getting up to take care of the baby, he wants you to get your rest.

-Is the type to get the baby onesies that say things like, "I can't fucking read". He thinks it's hilarious. And if you don't stop him, he'll be trying to teach the kid how to swear and flip people off.

-The type of dad you'll catch sitting at the tiny kids table with your kid, wearing a tiara and getting his nails done by your kid. Yes, he will wear a dress if his kid asks. How is he supposed to say no to such an adorable face?

-He can't help but spoil them. Again, he struggles to say no to them. He would kill for his kid. He would steal toys for them as well. He will shank a bitch for an American Girl doll, he doesn't care. His child NEEDS this doll, and he will stop at nothing to get them what they want

-He will teach his kid how to defend themselves. He doesn't trust people and he wants to make sure his kid is safe. He'll be gifting his kid weapons once they turn 13. The kid will have an alarming knowledge about different types of weapons

-He doesn't want his kid seeing him killing people. He knows how traumatizing it can be to see such a thing. He'd feel so horrible if he was the cause of his kid's trauma. But he sees his kid kill someone, he's helping with hiding the body. If they're killing someone, then clearly that person was in the wrong cause his kid can do no wrong

-He really do be a dad that is chill and you can tell everything to. If his kid is in deep trouble, they know they can call their dad to help. Very rarely will Dude ever be mad at his kid. They have to do something really horrible for him to be upset with them. He's also the type of dad who wouldn't care if his kid smokes and/or drinks. He'd smoke with his kid if it didn't make his schizophrenia worse

-So to finally end this long post, Dude would be a good dad. He wouldn't be perfect, but he's trying. He would want the best for them. He does get overprotective of them as well. He'd be a content man in life with his family. Ain't nothing gonna ruin it <3

#postal #postal dude #postal dude x reader

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bitchiswild · 9 months

Text

Scooter Fate

Anh Yujin x F! Reader

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 1.8k

A/n: this is bullshit work 🤩🤚

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

As the sun began its lazy ascent over the suburban streets, you found yourself reluctantly maneuvering your child's micro-scooter, an embarrassing yet necessary mode of transport. It was drop-off time, the part of the day where single parenting duties converged into a chaotic ballet of managing school bags, lunches, and ensuring your little one made it into class on time.

“Making my way downtown walking fast, faces p-" I was abruptly cut off by an unexpected collision, and to my chagrin, it was none other than my PTA nemesis, Anh Yujin, steering her own micro-scooter. Both our micro-scooters clashed head-on, propelling both of us airborne, only to crash face-first into each other.

“Son of a Bit- Butternut squash,” I blurted out in a mixture of pain and awareness of the surrounding children.

“Shii-take Mushrooms,” Yujin groaned, mirroring my discomfort and also conscious of her surroundings.

“You need to watch where you are going!” our simultaneous accusations echoed, drawing the attention of other parents who swiftly called for an ambulance.

As we both lay there amidst the wreckage of our micro-scooters, wincing from the throbbing pain, mutual animosity stewed between us. Clutching our injured noses, we glared daggers at each other, locked in a momentary standoff. A teacher, sensing the tension, rushed out with tissues to help stem the bleeding, attempting to diffuse the escalating situation between two adults squabbling like children.

The wail of the ambulance pierced the air, marking the arrival of much-needed assistance. The EMTs hurried to assess our condition amidst the debris of shattered scooters.

“Looks like you both broke your noses. We should get you to the hospital for a proper check-up,” one of the EMTs stated matter-of-factly.

Yujin and I exchanged resigned sighs, the annoyance evident on our throbbing faces, but there was little choice but to comply.

"Either of you can sit on the bench with me or take the stretcher," the EMT offered, gesturing towards the seat and the stretcher.

"I call stretcher!" Yujin and I blurted simultaneously, shooting glares at each other. The momentary standoff ended with me being settled on the stretcher, while Yujin reluctantly took the bench beside the EMT. Our silent duel continued even in the confines of the ambulance, a battle of wills even in the choice of seating arrangements.

The bustling Emergency Room was a chorus of activity, a symphony of hurried footsteps and overlapping conversations. Yujin and I found ourselves side by side, occupying the same cramped space of the divided room separated by a thin, flimsy curtain. The discomfort was magnified by our proximity, and it didn't take long for the tension to resurface.

“This can’t be the only available room,” I muttered, my discomfort echoing Yujin’s unspoken sentiments.

A nurse passing by caught wind of our discontent. “I'm sorry, folks. It's a busy day, and this is the only space we have at the moment. We’re doing our best to accommodate everyone,” she explained, her tone apologetic yet final.

With a resigned sigh, we begrudgingly settled into our respective beds, separated only by a curtain that seemed to amplify the uncomfortable intimacy of our shared space.

“We should have separate rooms,” Yujin muttered under her breath, a sentiment I wholeheartedly echoed.

But amidst the sterile hospital smells and the distant hum of medical equipment, we were stranded together, two adversaries thrown into an unexpected proximity. The shared annoyance at the lack of privacy was a fragile common ground, a small bridge spanning the gap between our animosity. Yet, amidst the discomfort, an opportunity for understanding loomed in the air, waiting to be acknowledged or ignored.

The tense wait in the ER stretched on, time seemingly at a standstill. Yujin's exasperation broke the silence. "God, how long until the doctor shows up?"

"I know, right? I had a list of errands today," I sighed in agreement. Yujin turned toward me suddenly. "Remi is your daughter, right?" Her unexpected question caught me off guard.

"Yeah, why?" I replied, perplexed.

"Nothing much, just that Aria and her are friends," Yujin casually remarked, a nonchalant shrug following her words. She quickly averted her gaze.

Before I could probe further, the nurse interrupted, apologizing for the prolonged wait. Frustration crept in as I voiced my concern about picking up my daughter. "Is there any way we can speed this up a bit?" I inquired, feeling the weight of the impending responsibilities.

The nurse promised to do her best, darting out in search of a solution. Yujin’s curious question lingered in the air. "Can't your husband pick up your daughter?" she inquired, her brow raising.

"No, I'm a single mother," I replied matter-of-factly, surprised by the sudden personal turn in the conversation.

Yujin fell silent for a moment before revealing, "I'm in the same boat as you."

Confusion washed over me. "What?" I asked, thrown off guard.

"I'm a single mother too," she confessed, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

"But I've seen you wear a wedding ring at every PTA meeting," I pointed out, puzzled by the contradiction.

Yujin chuckled, a smirk gracing her lips. "I wear it to keep the ladies off of me," she joked, adding a playful wiggle of her eyebrows, a rare moment of levity in the midst of our strained circumstances.

The air between us seemed to shift, the revelation of our shared status as single parents casting a subtle change in the atmosphere. There was a newfound understanding, an unspoken empathy that lingered between Yujin and me.

Yujin's confession hung in the air, a vulnerable admission that cracked the wall of animosity that had long divided us. I glanced at her, sensing a different energy in the space we shared, an unexpected bond forming amidst the sterile hospital environment.

"I had no idea," I admitted quietly, the revelation softening my tone.

Yujin met my gaze, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. "It's not something I usually bring up," she confessed, a rare glimpse into a side of her I had never seen before.

The tension that had previously defined our interactions began to dissipate, replaced by a tentative understanding. We were two individuals navigating the challenges of single parenthood, both concealing our struggles behind the façade of everyday routines.

As the minutes ticked by, our conversation meandered away from the pain of our injuries. We found ourselves sharing snippets of our lives—stories of bedtime struggles, school projects, and the relentless juggle of work and parenting.

In that confined space of the Emergency Room, amidst the hum of medical equipment and distant conversations, a surprising connection blossomed. The shared experience of single parenthood bridged the gap, weaving a fragile thread of understanding between two individuals who had once been staunch adversaries. And in that moment, the possibility of a different kind of relationship, one built on mutual understanding, flickered to life.

The doctor's arrival was a much-awaited relief, ending the prolonged wait. He swiftly assessed our noses, popping them back into place with a discomforting but necessary procedure. With a couple of words of advice, a prescription for pain relief, and a promise of healing, we were finally given the green light to leave.

"About time," Yujin grumbled, clearly discontent with the wait. Her impatience was palpable as she prepared to depart.

"I couldn't agree more," I sighed, slightly frustrated by the delay but relieved that the ordeal was over.

As we readied ourselves to leave, a brief exchange ensued about ordering an Uber. "I'll order us an Uber," Yujin offered, already reaching for her phone.

"No, it's alright. I can handle it," I insisted, reaching for my own phone.

A mischievous glint sparked in Yujin's eyes as she teased, "How about I order the Uber, and you pay for our date?"

Her unexpected proposition caught me off guard. "Our date?" I echoed, taken aback by her suggestion. The air between us seemed to shift, the awkwardness of the moment lingering as I processed her words.

Yujin's playful grin softened into a genuine smile. "Yeah, why not? We could grab a coffee or something. You know, a gesture of truce after our eventful day."

Her offer held a sense of openness, an invitation to set aside our previous differences and perhaps explore the possibility of a new beginning. The prospect of an unexpected camaraderie, born from a day of mishaps and shared experiences, hung in the air, waiting for a response.

The agreement to grab coffee felt like an unspoken truce, a bridge connecting two previously distant shores. "You know what, I'd love to get coffee sometime," I replied, a genuine smile gracing my lips.

"Fantastic!" Yujin beamed, giving me a playful wink before swiftly ordering the Uber.

As the car navigated through the streets, we arrived at the school just in time. The atmosphere was alive with the chatter and laughter of children streaming out of the gates.

"Mommy!" Remi's excited voice rang out, her arms open wide as she dashed toward me.

"Mama!" Aria echoed, mirroring Remi's enthusiasm as she rushed towards Yujin.

Watching our daughters, identical in their joyous embrace, something shifted within me. The children, oblivious to the complexities of adult interactions, embodied a simple truth—they were friends, just as we had discovered.

I shared a glance with Yujin, our smiles mirroring each other's. There was a mutual understanding in that moment, a silent acknowledgment of the newfound connection between us. As our daughters embraced, it felt like a symbol of a beginning, a chance to build something new and unexpected from the remnants of a turbulent morning.

With a shared nod and a mutual understanding, we both stepped forward, ready to embrace not just our children but the prospect of a budding friendship—one that emerged from an unlikely collision of micro-scooters and broken noses.

“I’ll call you” As Yujin mouthed those words and winked, a rush of anticipation fluttered within me. Her playful gesture left me blushing, my mind swirling with the unexpected turn of events.

With a soft smile, I watched as Yujin led Aria away, the gesture hinting at a promise of future connection. Excitement tinged with curiosity welled up inside me, wondering what our newfound bond might unfold.

Turning my attention to Remi, I caressed her hair gently. "Let's head home, baby," I murmured, intertwining my fingers with hers as we strolled back, our steps lightened by the warmth of the shared embrace.

The day, which had started with a collision and broken noses, had surprisingly unfolded into a budding connection, leaving me curious and hopeful about the unforeseen journey that awaited—a journey that began with a chance encounter between micro-scooters and led to the possibility of an unexpected friendship.

“Mommy what happened to your nose?”

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

#bitchiswild #BIW.WRITES #anh yujin #yujin imagines #ahn yujin #ive yujin #ahn yujin x reader #yujin x reader #yujin ive #ive imagines #ive x reader #ive #an yujin

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