#Feed Additives Demand
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omshinde5145 · 2 months ago
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Feed Additives Market Development and Future Demand Analysis Report 2030
The Global Feed Additives Market is undergoing a significant transformation, propelled by the growing demand for animal protein, increased awareness regarding livestock health, and the surge in consumer preferences for sustainable agricultural practices. As we delve deeper into this evolving landscape, it's evident that feed additives are not just supplementary elements in animal diets but pivotal components that enhance feed quality, ensure animal health, and improve the sustainability of livestock production systems.
Understanding Feed Additives
Feed additives are substances used in animal nutrition to achieve specific dietary purposes. They can enhance the flavor, consistency, and nutritional value of animal feed. More importantly, they play a crucial role in improving animal health by preventing diseases, promoting growth, and increasing feed efficiency. Types of feed additives include vitamins, amino acids, enzymes, antioxidants, acidifiers, probiotics, and minerals.
Market Drivers
Rising Demand for Animal Protein:
The global increase in meat consumption is a primary driver of the feed additives market. As populations grow and incomes rise, particularly in developing countries, so does the consumption of poultry, pork, and beef. This demand pushes farmers to seek enhanced feed solutions that can help increase livestock productivity and meat quality.
Get a Sample Report: https://bit.ly/44tOEKF
Health and Wellness Concerns:
Animal health is paramount, not only for the welfare of the animals but also to ensure the safety of the food supply chain. Feed additives are essential in preventing diseases and promoting the overall health of livestock, directly impacting food quality and safety standards.
Environmental Sustainability:
The livestock sector is under increasing pressure to reduce its environmental footprint. Feed additives can lead to more efficient feed utilization, thus reducing waste and emissions associated with livestock farming. Moreover, additives like phytase help in decreasing phosphorus excretion, which is beneficial for the environment.
Regulatory Frameworks:
Governments worldwide are tightening regulations on animal feed quality and safety, compelling feed manufacturers to adopt high-quality standards and transparent operations. These regulations are driving the adoption of certified feed additives.
Market Trends
1. Innovations in Feed Additives:
Technological advancements are paving the way for innovative products in the feed additives market. For instance, the use of enzymes as feed additives has revolutionized feed digestibility and nutrient absorption. Similarly, advancements in microbiology have boosted the use of probiotics in feeds, which enhance gut health and immunity in livestock.
2. Customized and Functional Additives:
There is a growing trend towards the customization of feed additives to cater to specific dietary needs of different livestock species. Additionally, the development of functional additives, which play a role in enhancing animal performance and health beyond basic nutrition, is gaining traction.
3. Increased Use of Organic and Natural Additives:
With the rise in organic farming and consumer demand for organic products, there is an increasing preference for natural and non-GMO feed additives. This trend is likely to continue as consumers become more conscious of product labels and the ingredients used in animal feed.
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Market Challenges
Despite the positive outlook, the feed additives market faces challenges such as high costs of development and stringent regulatory approvals which can hinder market growth. Moreover, the variability in raw material prices can affect the stability and profitability of feed additive manufacturers.
Conclusion
The feed additives market is at a pivotal juncture, with opportunities driven by technological innovations, regulatory changes, and shifting consumer preferences towards sustainable agriculture. For stakeholders in the livestock and feed production industries, staying informed and adaptable to these trends is crucial for capitalizing on the market's potential.
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dlxxv-vetted-donations · 18 days ago
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Urgent: @fahedshehab-new
Vetted, vetted, ButterflyEffect Project #764 | Paypal (proof of legitimacy here)
Old gfm campaign closed (more details here and under the cut), new gfm going through issues (DON'T DONATE HERE RIGHT NOW, I'll keep you updated). Do NOT ask for a refund yet, they're still trying to get the funds out!
Fahed endangered himself to get to a place with a good enough internet connection to send this video of his children to me so I can share it with everyone. Please watch it.
He needs CAD $5,055 in his campaign (includes additional fees) to rent a safe shelter to protect his children from the winter cold. This value may be subject to change. Roughly $1,000 - $2,000 in donations will be spent on living necessities such as food.
Slightly more details and updates:
Nov 16: There are some problems with the new campaign. Fahed and the campaign manager are currently trying to resolve it, so don't donate but also don't request a refund yet. They're currently taking donations in this Paypal (proof of legitimacy here).
Nov 10: Don't request a refund from the old campaign yet, the campaign manager is appealing the bank to lift the ban and get the funds out!
[ID in alt text]
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Nov 9:
The old campaign was closed and its description links to the new one here. Read more about it here. At the time of closing, the campaign only needed €3,338 to reach its short-term goal. This is CAD $4,968, which is a goal of $87 + $4,968 = $5,055 in the new campaign.
Nov 5:
The children catch colds living in tents, which are difficult to treat. My note: Medications are expensive, in demand, and difficult to find at times.
Priority: Fahed wants to rent an apartment to protect his family for ~€1,700 a month for at least 3 months. This would cost ~€5,000.
Food prices have spiked and even flour for making bread is not available. Milk for baby Yahya is expensive and difficult to find. The children are suffering from malnutrition.
Fahed has set a goal of €82,000 in his campaign to pay rent and feed his children. This amount accounts for extra fees.
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ramkumarss · 1 year ago
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Feed Additives Market Size, Growth Drivers | Forecast 2029
According to Precision Business Insights, the Feed Additives Market to grow at a CAGR of 5.7% by forecast 2029. It is segmented by Type, livestock, Form & Source
The global feed additives market size was valued at USD 40.3 billion in 2022 and is poised to grow at a significant CAGR of 5.7% during the forecast period 2023-29. It also includes market size and projection estimations for each of the five major regions from 2023 to 2029. The research report includes historical data, trending features, and market growth estimates for the future. Furthermore, the study includes a global and regional estimation and further split by nations and categories within each region. The research also includes factors and barriers to the feed additives market growth, as well as their impact on the market's future growth. The report gives a comprehensive overview of both primary and secondary data.  
View the detailed report description here - https://www.precisionbusinessinsights.com/market-reports/feed-additives-market                    
The global feed additives market segmentation: 1) By Source : Synthetic and Natural
2) By Additive Type : Amino acids, Phosphates, Vitamins, Acidifiers, Carotenoids, Enzymes,     Mycotoxin Detoxifiers, Flavors & Sweeteners, Antibiotics, Minerals, Antioxidants, Non-protein Nitrogen, Phytogenics, Preservatives, and Probiotics
3) By Animal Type : Poultry, Ruminants, Swine, Aquatic animals, and Other Livestock
4) By Form : Dry and Liquid
The primary factors of the feed additives market drivers are the Increase in meat production and consumption. The feed additives market report helps to provide the best results for business enhancement and business growth. It further helps to obtain the reactions of consumers to a novel product or service. It becomes possible for business players to take action for changing perceptions. It uncovers and identifies potential issues of the customers. It becomes easy to obtain the reactions of the customers to a novel product or service. It also enlightens further advancement, so it suits its intended market.
The feed additives market researchreport gives a comprehensive outlook across the region with special emphasis on key regions such as North America, Europe, Asia Pacific, Latin America, and the Middle East and Africa. North America was the largest region in the feed additives market report, accounting for the highest share in 2022. It was followed by Asia Pacific, and then the other regions. Request sample report at - https://www.precisionbusinessinsights.com/request-sample/?product_id=56607                      The important profiles and strategies adopted by feed additives market key players AFB International Alltech Kemin Industries, Inc. Vitablend Asia Pacific Pte. Ltd. Kalsec, Inc. DSM Ameri-Pac, Inc. BASF SE Evonik Industries AG FoodSafe Technologies Lallemand, Inc. DuPont, covered here to help them in strengthening their place in the market.
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shirecorn · 1 year ago
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Changelings! Six legged insectoid beasts grown to the size of ponies, their target mimic species. Rather than evolving perfect physical mimicry, changeling imitation is a two-pronged process. In addition to a color-shifting carapace, magic distorts and twists the silhouette to match the mimicked subject. The spell is weaved with a rapid beating of the the wings, which creates a delicate network of invisible magic threads that tie the changeling's physical form to the projected mirage to make it move. After casting the spell, the changeling needs to recast it periodically, so if you doubt your friend's identity, listen for the buzzing of wings.
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It takes a lot of concentration to keep the illusion in place, and changelings are naturally much taller than ponies when standing at their full height. Inexperienced or agitated changelings may forget to crouch, which breaks the illusion in a terrifying way. Because the features of the mirage are bound to the underlying insect body, moving wrong will distort the perceived form before it reveals what lies beneath.
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The reason changeling bodies are so much longer than their target species is to allow a changeling to mimic creatures many times their size, provided they have the wingspan to reach the entire length of the target individual. A full wingspan is the sign of a healthy changeling, one that has enough magic to cast their illusions without much effort. Without sufficient magic, a changeling must constantly refresh their spell, and the ceaseless beating tears their delicate wings to shreds.
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There is one changeling with enough magic to spare: The Queen. Drones store magic in their tails and bring it back to feed her. The queen of years past has been bleeding them dry and soaking up all their magic, leaving what should be a healthy reservoir in their tails as a withered pocket. This new style of ruling could possibly have started as a response to the ascension of the Goddess of Love, and the resulting magicification of feelings of romantic and platonic love.
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For millennia, changelings evolved to feed on emotions directed at them (or rather the being they mimic) and convert it into magic. Positive emotions were the most stable, but any emotion worked. But when Love started to feel an entire meal, and gave the drones strength to subsist on their own, their queen demanded every drop of intoxicating love for herself, leaving them in a constant state of starvation and desperation.
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Just a little love can go a long way. Changelings are forbidden from changing their colors or illusions to express themselves, as they must be seen as "mindless drones" and part of a single hive mind, despite their potential for individuality. Instead, they remain black unless imitating a pony or other creature. Each section of a changeling's carapace has a clear top layer with liquid suspended above the actual armor layer beneath. Microscopic grooves display different colors and shades based on how much of the liquid fills them, and how much pressure it's under. With the base colors set, wings spin the illusion of form to completely disguise the changeling beneath.
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But what if they didn't have to save all their energy for disguises? What if there was enough love to go around?
The Changeling Revolution is an ongoing battle, but it has a hopeful, vibrant spark. Led by a mild-mannered former "drone," a growing faction are discovering peace, safety, and individuality by feeding off love directed not at illusions they cast, but to the people they truly are. It's a scary, vulnerable first step to allow others to see your true nature, but the rewards of loving and being loved are worth it.
Revolutionaries are not "reformed" so much as healed by embracing individual love. It turns out when each changeling allows themself to have their own color, preferences, and name, then the love felt from one changeling to another can be converted into magic, and a hive can become a thriving ecosystem within itself.
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Nymphs, once destined for a viscous cycle of deception and starvation, are now able to bask in love given to them by hivemates, and they grow up stronger and kinder than any generation before. Though they can only shift into pastel colors until their carapace fully hardens and darkens, they still express by choosing their own look, name, and destiny.
The healing of the changeling population is as varied as their prismatic colors, and as beautiful as their glittering wings.
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ineffectualdemon · 3 months ago
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(AO3 link)
Shang Qinghua arrived back to Cang Qiong and headed to report to the Sect Leader only to find himself pulled into an impromptu meeting with his fellow Peak Lords.
With a noticeable absence and more notably addition. 
"Zhangmen-shixiong, may this one inquire as to what is happening?" He asked nervously as he the yelling from his fellow peak lords explained nothing and Luo Binghe stood still with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched tight, but silent.
"Lord Luo seems to think we have hidden Shen-shixiong away," Yue Qingyuan replied with confusion clouding his eyes.
"Which is nonsense! Qingqiu is sitting in the next room plain as day!" Liu Qingge shouted, one hand on the hilt of his sword the other pointing to a side room.
"And as this Lord has explained that thing is not Shizun." Luo Binghe replied with the slow carefulness that precedes great violence.
"We all here have seen and spoken to Shen-shixiong daily while Lord Luo was dealing with demon matters this past week. We have seen nothing amiss. Maybe he just tires of your company." Qi Qingqi really liked digging the knife in which was a huge mistake.
Shang Qinghua watched Luo Binghe's hand clench his fist tighter as his demon mark grew in brilliance.
"Alright thats enough! I can confidently prove whether or not Shen Qingqiu has been replaced!" He said loudly, his casual tone cutting through the noise and tension better then the volume.
Before he could think better of it Shang Qinghua walked briskly over to the side room and walked inside, shutting the door behind him.
Hardly any time at all passed before he was back in the room, the door closed firmly shut behind him and sealing and silencing talismans stuck to the outside.
"Shen Qingqiu has been replaced." He stated firmly. The room went eerily quiet and Luo Binghe, thought not smiling, relaxed as his posture took on an amused lilt.
"How can Shang-Shixiong be so sure?" Someone spluttered.
"He said I was his closest friend." Shang Qinghua said grimly.
"...but you are?" Liu Qingge said, his eyebrows tight as if he was puzzling over paperwork.
And he was right. Everyone knew Shang Qinghua was Shen Qingqiu's closest friend and confidant. Something that pissed off and confused everyone close to Shen Qingqiu to some degree. 
Shang Qinghua huffed.
"Of course I am! I know that! You know that! Everyone knows that! Even Shen Qingqiu knows that! But would he ever say it?"
That got everyone to pause.
No.
No he wouldn't.
Potentially not even on pain of death.
"Then what is it and where is Shizun?" Luo Binghe demanded, pushing past Liu Qingge who just mad a disgruntled sound.
"This one's guess? It's a Cuckoo Spirit. They're a type of dream demon. They hunt by reading the inner thoughts of their victim and replicating their mannerisms and behaviours as closely as they can based on dreams and so on. They then keep their victim asleep and assume their life. Feeding off both them and the people around them. This one guesses Qian Cao has had a lot of people on Qing Jing come down with fevers or are strangely lethargic recently." Shang Qinghua turned his attention away from Luo Binghe at this last and directed it as Mu Qingfang who looked troubled. 
"For the last three days. And four days ago Shen-shixiong complained of feeling tired when we had tea, but his meridians seemed clear. The imposter also stood up to scrutiny when this one examined him." Mu Qingfang explained.
Shang Qinghua nodded.
"Did Mu-shidi feel ill after the exam at all?" Shang Qinghua asked, even as he pushed past the sect leader and the demon emperor to pull out paper and ink and start scribbling quickly. 
"...yes actually, a headache." Mu Qingfang quickly crossed to join Shang Qinghu, tension tight in his frame.
"It used it's abilities to change your memory and perception." Shang Qinghua looked to his upset Shidi and gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. 
"Don't be too upset with yourself Shidi! They are very dangerous creatures and extremely rare. The most important thing is Shen-shixiong is still alive. They can only maintain form if they still have a living connection." Shang Qinghua turned to look at Luo Binghe who had joined him on his other side.
"Meng Mo agrees and is impressed with your knowledge, he wouldn't have guessed or caught a Cuckoo. He thought his clan had wiped them out. He actually seemed afraid of them." Luo Binghe was still tense but knowing his Shizun was still alive was keeping him together. But it wasn't a surprised that the dream demon feared the creature. They had a terrifying ability, to make dream illusions work in the waking world. 
Their original feeding grounds were the dream demon clans, because who was easier to fool then those who were always half in a dream? 
In PIDW he had meant their inclusion to be a real horror movie moment but also a chance for character growth as Luo Binghe was forced to contend with something that shattered his confidence in his dream magic and made him face reality. 
In practice it was used to make a recent wife who was married "for political reasons" admit she actually did love her husband and wanted his pillar. 
Maybe Bingmei didn't need to know that. 
"If it hadn't flubbed so bad I wouldn't have caught it." Shang Qinghua admitted to distract himself before picking up his papers and turning around.
"Right. First off we must find Shen Qingqiu. Junshang? You search for disturbances in the dream realm. Something that feels off. But do not attempt to interact with it yet! Just use that to help us locate Shen Qingqiu. Liu Qingge? Mu-shidi? I need you to get these ingredients and turn it into an incense. Everyone else search every cave and grotto and outbuilding on this mountain to find Shen Qingqiu. If you find him do not touch him! We must break the bond first and we have to do that quickly before it realises we know. Right now this one has told it that Luo Binghe is unstable and we need to confine "Shen Qingqiu" for his own protection. It objected like Shen-shixiong would but not strong enough." Shang Qinghua was a little surprised they just let him take charge like that but Yue Qingyuan nodded.
"That Shang-shidi left the room on his own two feet after suggesting such a thing and Shen-shidi didn't break down the door and take Lord Luo and leave is even more proof than it calling Shang Qinghua its closest friend." Yue Qingyuan kindly pointed out for Luo Binghe's benefit, who was looking a little murderous. 
After that things moved swiftly. Shen Qingqiu was found in an old storage room on Qing Jing with help from Luo Binghe. One plastered with talismans to block the Emperor from tracking his blood.
Once the sleeping Shen Qingqiu breathed in enough of the cure to break the demon's hold dispatched the thing quickly, while the smoke from the same incense kept it from using its normal tricks to escape.
Shen Qingqiu once awake and finally devoid of a crying Demon Lord, due to said Demon Lord baking something, asked to speak to Shang Qinghua.
"Binghe said you convinced everyone but didn't say how." Shen Qingqiu, looking pale but mostly alright, asked.
"I walked in and asked if it knew who I was and 'you' rolled your eyes and said: 'um my best friend? Who else would you be you dumb hack author!' and I immediately knew because you'd never admit that." 
Somehow Shen Qingqiu looked more ill that before Shang Qinghua explained.
"Ew? Why would it so that? Bro no offense but I would rather kick in you in a well of dead fish then say we're friends." 
A different man would be offended but Shang Qinghua just chuckled. That's his tsundere Cucumber Bro! 
"I know bro "
Shen Qingqiu shifted in his seat at that, like what he said left a sour taste in his mouth and sand in his shorts.
"You're not..." Shen Qingqiu started before hiding behind his fan, "You're not not my best friend though." 
Shang Qinghua blinked at him before tearing up.
"Bro!'
"NOPE! I NEVER SAID ANYTHING!"
"You love bro!"
"I HATE YOU!" 
Shang Qinghua smiled as Shen Qingqiu loudly protested their friendship while also nudging his favourite treats towards him.
Ah, friendship was sweet when it was with your number one anti fan! 
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 10 months ago
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Taking care of his girls (part 1)
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)
Warnings: none
a/n: another girl dad Carlos because I just can't get enough
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Y/N's pov
The newborn stage is extremely challenging. Sleep deprivation caused by countless sleepless nights, lack of energy, baby crying even though she ate half an hour ago, trying to figure out the cause of her crying, colic, baby not latching, painful feedings or lack of milk production - all that and much more comes when you step into motherhood. Trust me, it is exhausting both physically and mentally and anyone who says otherwise is lying!
However, not much is talked about how demanding and tiring and difficult it is when you are burning with a fever and can barely stand on your feet, and you have a two-year-old daughter who also has a flu and who, in addition to all of that, is a very stubborn daddy's little girl and doesn't really like to listen to anyone except her dad. That two-year-old is our little girl Bea. Bea is a very stubborn and smart girl who is very attached to her dad and loves spending time with him. She is completely enchanted by him and whenever Carlos returns home from the race, she does not separate from him.
We've only recently started taking her to the races, but since she tends to run around the paddock and starts screaming when it's time for Carlos to get in the car, we've decided that we won't be able to follow Carlos everywhere he goes.
This time we could not attend the Grand Prix in Italy for another reason, and that reason was because I caught a flu, which almost knocked me off my feet, and two days later Bea was burning with a fever as well.
Being alone with her while I was sick, doing all the housework, cooking and taking care of her was very difficult and exhausting. I was very worried about her because she had a high temperature, she was very weak, she didn't want to eat much, she was crying all the time and she just wanted me to hold her in my arms and cuddle her.
Carlos returned from Italy to our home in Madrid yesterday and we both couldn't wait to see him. When he came back I could finally breathe a little, sit down and rest because he decided to take care of both of us.
It was the same today, even though I felt a little better, Bea was still coughing a lot and her nose was blocked, so I decided to go to the pharmacy to get a children's inhaler. Carlos decided to stay with her and fulfill all her wishes, and today the wish was cuddling and watching cartoons in the living room.
It took me quite a long time to get to the pharmacy, make the purchase and get back home, so I only returned after 45 minutes. The sight that greeted me when I entered the living room brought tears to my eyes, but happy tears full of gratitude.
Bea was lying curled up on Carlos' chest, his arms wrapped around her as his head fell back against the back of the couch his lips slightly parted as both of them were fast asleep while Dora the explorer begged for help in the background. Carlos tied her hair into a small ponytail on top of her head while her baby hairs were messily sticking out. For a moment I just stood next to the couch and watched them smiling and thinking how did I get so lucky?
"Babe" I approach Carlos from the back of the couch and whisper into his ear. "Babe, wake up." It took him a minute to realize they had fallen asleep and to wake up.
"Ay dios mĂ­o.." You could also hear the tiredness in his voice because he didn't sleep at all last night. He demanded that I rest and that he would look after Bea overnight.
"Let's take her to bed okay?" I say quietly trying not to wake her up.
"What time is it?" He asks.
"It's only 7 p.m. I'll take care of her tonight, you get some sleep okay?" I say caressing his cheek.
"No, no I'll do it You still haven't fully recovered amor and I want you to." He says leaving a kiss on my thumb. Just as Carlos slowly straightened up from a semi-lying position on the couch, Bea startled and started crying.
"Shh cariño, no llores." (shh darling don't cry) Carlos immediately began gently shushing her and rubbing her back as I sat next to them.
"Do you want to go sleep in mommy and daddy's bed baby?" I asked her placing a kiss on her hand. She doesn't usually sleep with us, but when she is sick we always let her.
"No" She rubbed her eyes nervously, still crying and burrying her head into the crook of Carlos neck. "Papa, mama" She whined extending her little hand towards me, but not wanting to leave Carlos' embrace.
"EstĂĄ bien mi amor, mamĂĄ y papĂĄ estĂĄn aquĂ­, no te preocupes." Carlos said tightening his grip around her with one arm and with the other pulling me closer to them.
We quickly gave up on trying to talk her into going to bed because we realized it would only upset her even more so we both decided to curl up to Carlos.
"Mis princesas." I leaned my head against his shoulder wrapping my arm around our little bean as Carlos kissed both of our foreheads.
Part 2 here
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pomefioredove · 7 months ago
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Hi !! I love your writing! I think you've nailed the twst characters personalities really nicely <33
So if possible, I'd like to have some hcs Sebek, Ruggie, Jack, Jamil and Deuce would realize that they have a crush on the reader (in which the reader is basically their closest friend atp) and how'd they'd react to it. Would they be the type to shove it back down or get it over with? Something else entirely, maybe??
Hope this isn't too much. Thank you in advance! Take all the time you need!
hii first off thank you so much!! <3 and ofc ofc I LOVE pining (and friends to lovers?!)
pomefiore part
summary: how they would have a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: deuce, jack, ruggie, jamil, sebek additional info: romantic, reader isn't specified to be yuu except in sebek's part because I found it funny, reader is gender neutral, deuce is a cutie patootie
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𝐃𝐞𝐼𝐜𝐞 đ’đ©đšđđž
oh, he is in utter turmoil about this
on one hand: he really, really likes you
you're such a wonderful person
the kind of partner he'd be proud to introduce to his mom
on the other hand...
he really, really doesn't want to mess this up
you already have such a great thing going on as friends!
if he ruined that, he would literally never forgive himself
and Ace would make fun of him for it until the very end of time itself
so, of course he just sits on these feelings. maybe if he focuses on something else, they'll go away?
spoiler alert: they do not
they definitely do not
if anything, trying to ignore them just makes it worse for him; suddenly he's becoming an entirely different person around you
it's like a switch is flipped the second you're in the room
he becomes clumsy, easily flustered, can barely string a sentence together
Ace gives him hell about it, of course
and when there's no hope of hiding it any longer, he just confesses
(not that it wasn't obvious already... but for his sake, you'll have to pretend like it's shocking news)
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đ‰đšđœđ€ đ‡đšđ°đ„
he's actually... pretty upfront about it?
once he's got his feelings on the matter sorted, anyway
...which takes him a few weeks
when he first recognizes his crush on you, he pours himself into his training
not as a distraction, really; he just finds it easier to think when he's working out
he really does want to think this one through
much like Deuce, Jack understands that he'd put the friendship at risk if he were to confess
unlike Deuce, however, he's somewhat aware that ignoring and hiding is a coward's way out, and will only push you away
so, once he's very sure about his feelings, he confesses
it's not exactly like a confession, though
more of a... lecture?
just informs you that he's developed feelings, doesn't want them to affect the friendship, and leaves the decision up to you
won't freak if you don't reciprocate, but... he might be a little bummed out
okay... more than a little
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𝐑𝐼𝐠𝐠𝐱𝐞 𝐁𝐼𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐱
first thought: he doesn't have time for this
Ruggie has a job, school, and a whole neighborhood to feed back home
now a partner? no, that's completely out of the question
besides, it's not like you'd ever reciprocate. who'd wanna spend every date eating dandelion salad?
no one, that's who
of course he doesn't bother asking, but he assumes that goes without saying
but he's busy enough to put those feelings on the back burner and deal with them some other day
...if only he wasn't so distracted by thoughts of you, that plan might have worked!
by his third slip-up, Leona's had enough and demands he's gotta sort out whatever's bothering him if he ever wants to show his face there again
(he might've been in a bad mood)
but, unfortunately, Ruggie knows he's right
it's better to be rejected now than to spend the rest of his school days mulling over it
so, he just spills the beans, as plain and simple as possible
tries to walk away as soon as he's done so he doesn't have to see the look on your face
you can imagine his surprise when you pull him back
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đ‰đšđŠđąđ„ đ•đąđ©đžđ«
actually has a pretty similar reaction to Ruggie
Jamil can't possibly fathom having a partner in a world where he doesn't even have his own freedom
in a sense, he just doesn't want to drag you into his life
in another, more important sense, he would be devastated if you rejected him
so he just... ignores it
of course, Jamil knows that pretending the feelings aren't there won't do much, but he doesn't really have a lot of options
he's not one to talk through his feelings, after all
not that anyone asks...
and his ability to interact with you as if nothing is different is astonishing
even if it feels like he's melting inside
though, you may catch him smiling more at you these days
he just can't help himself
when he's got his other stuff sorted, you'll be next on the agenda
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đ’đžđ›đžđ€ đ™đąđ đŻđšđ„đ­
you claim to have no magic, and yet you bewitch him into caring about you just as much as his liege?!
well... maybe not as much...
but close! very close!
even admitting that to himself feels like high treason
nonetheless, you have to be something very special to distract him from what he calls his "true purpose in life"
he sees you and feels... ill?
he's light-headed, he's dizzy, his stomach feels funny...
and he's been thinking about you more so than usual
yes, you're friends... he'll even admit he's grown quite fond of you in comparison to the other people you call "friends"
but this is... unusual
surely, you've placed some kind of curse on him!
Silver is the first to hear about it
poor boy is too tired to deal, and so he passes on the problem to Lilia
who just chuckles and makes a lot of odd references and metaphors that no one of this century would understand
no, Sebek has to come to the conclusion that he likes you all on his own
(like-likes you)
and after some pestering from Lilia, he admits that perhaps you and he could protect Malleus... together!
(he's going to have to work on the wording of that confession)
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theoncomingchaos · 5 days ago
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Easy steps that could have improved the Lucanis Romance
Pacing:
Make the cake scene the first romance scene. He cooks little treats for everyone anyway. It would be a good friendly scene that gives a chance to build the relationship. We could see that Lucanis cares and is paying attention to what Rook likes, give Rook another chance to flirt, and let us see that small uncertain smile to make it clear Lucanis is interested but hesitant. Maybe a companion makes a comment about how much more effort he put into Rook's dessert than theirs. Lucanis quickly escapes the room with Spite telling him to turn around and offer to hand feed Rook. Spite is a menace.
Make the wall scene the commitment scene, but don't break Lucanis's character. He isn't good at romance, he has no experience with it, he wants it so badly and has read romance novels, but he shouldn't be confident and suave about seduction. Not after what happened with Viago. Instead, have a talk about why Lucanis has been distant and hesitant, allow Rook to reassure him, then let Lucanis so, so happily give in.
In the cafe scene, let us really talk about Spite's place in the relationship and learn more about how they are actually doing. Particularly, how they affect one another.
Let us kiss and chat to our L1 whenever we are at the lighthouse. Let us ask about their lives, factions, etc. Maybe Lucanis can invite us to the book club!
Additional Scenes I wanted:
Romantic gondola scene! After we escape the Crow party let us have a moonlit gondola scene!
Cooking together for the team. Flirty flour fight included. If Rook ends up on the counter all the better.
Varric warning us to be careful with him and comparing him to Anders. Yes, I know the truth, yes I am in denial. Real or not I want it. Continue the tradition!
More of Viago's reaction about a Rook de Riva and Lucanis being a thing. We could see him find out about it and then maybe in a banter Lucanis could mention having been threatened. Maybe Lucanis could even talk about the irony of the fact that his first crush was a de Riva and now his first love is a different de Riva. Rook actually chimes in: "I would have appreciated the dagger." "I'll get you an even better one next time we are in Treviso."
Caterina finding out- especially for a de Riva Rook. Caterina demanding they have dinner together.
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lev1hei1chou · 7 months ago
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A New Addition
Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo and your child return from a walk with a puppy Masterlist
The sun casted a warm glow over the bustling streets of Tokyo as Gojo and his child ambled along, hand in hand. It was a perfect day for a walk, and the duo seemed to be enjoying every moment of it. Meanwhile, you sat at home, wondering where they had disappeared to. It had been quite some time, and your curiosity was piqued.
Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. Where could they possibly be? Your mind concocted all sorts of scenarios, from them getting lost in a nearby park to stumbling upon a hidden portal to another dimension. Okay, maybe the latter was a bit far-fetched, but hey, with Gojo involved, you never knew.
Just as you were about to dial Gojo's number and demand an explanation for their prolonged absence, the front door creaked open. You whipped around, expecting to see the mischievous duo sauntering in with grins plastered on their faces. However, what you were met with instead was silence. Suspicious silence.
"Darling?" you called out, furrowing your brows in confusion.
No response.
Your heart began to race as you imagined all sorts of disastrous scenarios. Had they been kidnapped by curses? Had Gojo accidentally transported them to some far-off land? Taking a deep breath, you pushed aside your frantic thoughts and stepped into the hallway.
"Satoru, this isn't funny!" you exclaimed, the worry evident in your voice.
Suddenly, you heard a faint sound, almost like... a woof?
Your eyes widened in disbelief as Gojo and your child rounded the corner, their faces adorned with sheepish grins. But what caught your attention the most was the small, wriggling bundle nestled in your child's arms—a fluffy, adorable puppy.
"What is this?" you asked, torn between amusement and exasperation.
Your husband scratched the back of his head, a guilty expression crossing his features. "Surprise?"
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Baby, you can't just bring home a puppy without consulting me first!"
"But look at its little face!" your child pleaded, holding the puppy up for emphasis.
You couldn't deny that the puppy was indeed adorable, with its big, soulful eyes and wagging tail. However, you were well aware of the responsibility that came with owning a pet, and you weren't sure if you were ready to take that plunge just yet.
"Please, Mommy," your child said, giving you the best puppy-dog eyes they could muster.
You felt your resolve waver as you gazed into those pleading eyes, but you knew you had to stand your ground. "I don't know, sweetie. Taking care of a puppy is a big responsibility."
"We promise we'll take care of it!" Gojo chimed in, his own puppy-dog eyes in full effect.
You rolled your eyes, knowing full well that Gojo's definition of "taking care" of something usually involved minimal effort on his part. But despite your reservations, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought of denying your child—and Satoru—a furry companion.
With a defeated sigh, you relented. "Fine. But you two are responsible for feeding it, walking it, and cleaning up after it. Understand?"
The room erupted into cheers as Gojo and your child exchanged triumphant glances. The puppy, sensing the excitement, let out an enthusiastic bark, its tail wagging furiously.
You couldn't help but smile at the scene unfolding before you. Maybe adding a new member to the family wouldn't be so bad after all.
As the days passed, you found yourself growing increasingly fond of the newest addition to your family. The puppy, named Mochi by your child, brought a sense of joy and excitement into your home. From playful romps in the backyard to cozy cuddles on the couch, Mochi quickly wormed his way into your heart.
And as for Gojo and your child? Well, they proved to be surprisingly adept at caring for their furry friend. Sure, there were the occasional mishaps—like the time Mochi managed to chew through an entire roll of toilet paper—but overall, they took their responsibilities seriously.
Watching the three of them together, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected surprise that had brought so much happiness into your life. Who knew that a simple walk around the block could lead to such a delightful addition to your family?
As Mochi curled up at your feet, content and sleepy after a long day of play, you couldn't imagine your life without him. And as you glanced over at Gojo and your child, who were currently engaged in a spirited game of fetch, you knew that this impromptu decision had been the best one yet.
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evansbuck-ley · 23 days ago
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tonights addition to my boy dads bucktommy rambles - let’s talk grandpa bobby
bobby retires around the same time that buck and tommy adopt henry, so when it’s time for them to both go back to work bobby is more than happy to take care of him.
athena comes home one day after work to the sight of bobby in their kitchen with henry strapped to his chest and he is humming softly as he sleeps. honey you realise he’s not your baby, right? yes he is athena.
buck calls him one night at 2am when henry is about eight months old bc something is wrong bobby. tommy is in the middle of a 24 hour shift and buck is terrified. bobby races over there and walks in to the sound of both henry and buck crying. buck looks dead on his feet and henry’s face is bright red from all the crying. bobby takes the baby from buck and demands that he goes lay down because buck being emotional is not helping. an hour later both buck and henry are sleeping and bobby takes up camp on the couch just in case they still need him.
henry of course has his own bedroom at bobby and athena’s which over the years becomes filled with so many toys and books bc every time bobby leaves the house he has to buy henry something.
when henry is four and in preschool, every wednesday bobby will pick him up early and take him to the local park to feed the ducks. he packs them both lunch and they will sit there for hours while henry tells bobby everything that comes to his mind.
henry is about two years old when he first calls bobby “grampy bobby”. the 118 fam were all at buck and tommys house having a late summer bbq. it was late in the evening and henry was getting sleepy. he goes over to where athena, bobby, hen and karen were sat and talking. he climbs up into bobby’s lap and settles himself against his chest. he whispers i love you grampy bobby before he falls asleep and bobby swears he felt his heart grow 10 times larger.
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velvetures · 1 year ago
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Simon is def the type of boyfriend/ husband to adopt a big dog for your anniversary present (even though it's so self serving, he just wants you to have extra protection). He even puts a little bow on the pups collar when he's presenting you with the new edition to the family. (I can see him with a Belgian/ German shepherd, doberman or even a pit mix breed)
Good Boy
Oh my god, there is no way Simon isn't insisting his S/O doesn't have a dog once you've become an established couple.
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I think the only difference I have from your HC is that he'd already have the pup trained and nearly at full size when he brings it home for the first time.
Naturally, he's got plenty of experience after having Riley for years. And spent a lot of time sneaking some of your dirty clothes out of the house to put in the dog's kennel while it's being trained. Accustomating it with your scent and connecting your smell with something that isn't used in training unless it's a drill relating your scent to an object needing protection.
Simon isn't particularly attached to the dog emotionally in the way you're going to be. But he's adamant that other than himself, you're the only other person who will know how to command the dog. It's a safety measure that you're going to be a little resistant to at first, but once he explains that it's so you're always safe -even when he's away- you understand that it's for the best. Simon wants a loyal protector for you, and he's not risking you for anything.
In addition to that, Simon really understands and employs "scary dog privilege" tactics often. Even using himself as the warden who follows you around in public and keeps too many eyes from lingering. The dog he brings home is most certainly intimidating, yet impossibly patient and gentle with you. It's designed that way though. Simon trained the pup to think of you as mom essentially, and his only role is to always protect mom.
When he brought your cane corso home, Simon had nothing but pride for the stoic and well-trained guard dog.
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The only problem with this is, you're too damn loving for your own good.
Where Simon won't let the dog on the couch, you put your foot down and demand it gets to sleep at the foot of the bed where you can tuck your feet under it to keep warm. He refuses to feed it anything other than its regimental diet, where you love making lick-mats and trialing a bunch of different dog-safe foods almost like your own little cooking show. Simon refuses to pet the dog all the time, but it's almost given he's going to come home and find you curled up with the massive beast on the couch. You -dead asleep- and the guard dog looming over your curled-up form and giving a low, malicious, growl.
Until it realizes Daddy has come home.
Then the big bastard won't leave Simon alone long enough to take his boots off without getting covered in drool and enough hair to make a fur coat.
These are the kinds of pictures you send Simon, utterly destroying his own mental image of the terrifying dog charged with keeping you safe. You're quite amused when he demands you stop making the dog look so pathetic.
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ramkumarss · 1 year ago
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ellieslittlewh0re · 1 year ago
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𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 đ„đąđ đĄđ­ 𝐱𝐧 (đ©đšđ«đ­ 𝟏)
* àłƒâ€âž· part 2 - part 3
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pairings - farmers daughter! reader x farmhand! ellie
summary - your dad hires a stranger to help out around the farm
additional tags - inexperienced but flirty reader, shy/loser ellie, cowboy boot wearing ellie, mutual pinning, slight masturbation mention (e!), e! w/ a southern accent??, eventual smut, (nothing too crazy happens in this part it’s mostly just setting vibes lol)
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Beads of sweat collected on the bridge of your nose, and your thighs stuck together as you sat on the porch swing, just lazily swinging back and forth, using your tippy toes to keep the momentum going.
You look out over the vast pasture- green as far as the eye can see, with nothing to distract from the country landscape except for some power lines out in the distance.
Even with the sun starting to set- it was still unbelievably hot.
"Keep goin' like that and you're gonna die of a heat stroke."
You yell to your father who was working under the hood of his rusty truck. Usually, he pays no mind to your nagging, but this time it seemed to work- or perhaps he was just finished for the night.
He shuts the hood, slamming it with a metallic thud before wiping his hands on a greasy rag.
His boots rang loudly against the hallow wooden stairs of the porch, looking down at you through bushy eyebrows.
"I don't need your sass, kid."
You roll your eyes at his comment. He's always been stubborn and tough, but in his old age, you can't help but worry. His cheeks have hallowed over the years, sun spots forming from the countless hours working on the farm, and his movements became slowed from the hard work catching up to him.
"I wouldn't sass if you'd just listen. Seriously, it's okay to hire someone to help. no one is gonna shame you for that." You pester affectionately, standing from the swing to open the screen door and enter the house with him following behind.
You follow him to the kitchen, listing all the reasons why he should have help.
One: he's getting old.
Two: his knee has never been the same since he had that operation done 4 years ago.
Three: the farm is too big and demanding to tend to alone.
"Okay- enough.. you sound just like your mother sometimes I swear." He hold a hand up, pausing you mid-ramble, and takes a sip from the glass he filled from the tap.
You pouted, and once again, your suggestions felt shot down.
He finishes the water, wiping his beard with the back of his hand.
"I actually have someone comin' by tomorrow. They were recommended t' me by Phillip at the feed store."
Your eyes lighten up, a smile grows on your face, and you finally feel like you can breathe, knowing that the hardships wouldn't be your dads alone anymore.
You rush around the kitchen island, placing a kiss to your dads cheek and squeezed him tight.
"Thank you! I can't wait- I'll have to bake em' something sweet tonight."
"Alright- settle down-" he pushes you away slightly with a smile on his weathered face. Truly an adoring annoyance that only a parent could love.
Your old man calls it a night, showering and off to bed he went, but you? Oh- you were busy. You tried your hardest to keep the sound down to a minimum, bowls, and kitchen utensils splayed on the counters.
A small apron draped around your waist, flour smudged on your cheekbone as you pulled the blueberry scones out of the oven. A satisfied smile grows on your face as you observe your work and finishing of the pastries with a dusting of powdered sugar.
Maybe, you were going a tad bit overboard, but the truth is, you were painfully lonely. The only time you had any visitors on the farm was when you held pumpkin patches in the fall, but even then, it was always young families that didn't bother to stay around for too long.
You go upstairs, a slight pep in your step as you did so. You showered and put in your favorite pajamas- a short, soft floral patterned dress with bows that secured the straps.
You tossed in bed, sleep not being in favor since your mind was still wide awake. You try to picture what they would look like- what they sounded like.
Was he tall? Around your age, or is he just another old man like your father? Maybe they're not a man at all.
It's best not to get ahead of yourself; whoever this person is, they are coming to work for your dad and not to become your friend.
-
You slept lightly, and your senses became more aware as a muted thud rang outside your second-story bedroom window. You open your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleepy confusion as dust particles dance in the sunbeams of your room.
It took you a few seconds to realize why today was so important, but once you remembered- it had you scattering out of bed to your window, pulling back the sheer laced curtains, and taking a peak outside.
There was a truck you didn't recognize parked in the driveway. It was slightly newer than your dad's, but that's not saying much; a simple 2-door with an extended bed, slightly lifted with sturdy-looking tires.
A slim figure stood next to the driver's side door, hands on their hips as they looked up at the house. To your surprise, it wasn't a man at all.
You squint, trying to get a better look at her without realizing how big of a creep you are being.
Her hair shined a brilliant shade of auburn in the morning light, a brown button up shirt with the sleep rolled up to her elbows, slightly flared and worn denim jeans hugged her hips with brown cowboy boots that seemed to match the leather of her belt.
You caught a glimpse of something on her arm, dark lines that disrupted her pale skin. It was a tattoo, although you could make out the details of the design.
She looked the part of someone who knows how to run a farm, but something about her seemed so out of place- almost like she was too pretty for such a dirty job.
While you were too busy eyeing her up and down, you didn't realize she had caught you. She put her hand up, holding it there for a second before bringing it back down to her side. You wave back, a slight wiggle of you fingertips which made her smile.
You watch her walk out of the frame of your window before sitting on the edge of your bed- your fingers grasping at the embroidered comforter. You had this weird feeling in your tummy; it was something you couldn't explain, almost like nausea but also like when you go on a big rollercoaster.
You felt nervous but excited all at the same time. You figured it was because she was around your age, maybe slightly older- shrugging it off as you got up and got ready for the day.
You brush your hair before tying it into two loose braids, finishing it with light pink ribbons at the ends. You wanted to put a little more effort into your appearance today since you're meeting someone new, and as daddy always said, "First impressions are the most important."
You take a deep breath in the last most of solitude of your room before making your way down the stairs, the conversation between the stranger and your father growing louder and louder from the kitchen as you inched closer.
"There she is-" your dad motions an arm in your direction, the stranger immediacy turning to meet your face.
"Ellie, this is my daughter, y/n, and y/n, this is Ellie."
"It's nice t' meet you, Ellie." You said in your sweetest voice you could muster as you walk towards her, holding a hand out.
"Likewise." She smiles, taking your hand in hers and shakes it firmly. She seemed respectful, maybe even a little flustered- seeing that her cheeks started to turn a deep shade of pink.
Upon seeing her closer, it didn't help settle your nerves. She was gorgeous; freckles adorned her alabaster skin, a scar that ran through her eyebrow and upper lip, and her eyes a mossy shade of green with dark, long lashes framing the shape.
She was honestly the prettiest girl you've ever seen but not in the same way you were often described. There was a boyish charm to her that you had never seen before.
"Well- best we get to it then." Your dad chimes in, causing you to let go of the calloused hand that you hadn't realized you were still holding onto.
"I'll see you around Ellie." You just barely make audible to her, bitting down on your bottom lip before turning on your heel and leaving them to do their jobs.
Ellie was almost speechless upon meeting you. Never in a million years did she ever think a girl like you could live in this small country town, but fuck, leave it to her luck- you were the boss's daughter, which means you were off limits.
You didn't make it easy on her either, prancing around in your little summer dress that flowed with your movements, rising dangerously high when you would turn around, almost giving her a peek of your ass.
Ellie swallowed hard each time, the saliva filling her mouth with all the dirty thoughts she had- which mostly consisted of you underneath her, completely naked and trembling after she forced a 4th orgasm out of you.
-
The sun was starting to set, blanketing the canvas in shades of orange and pink, and to your disappointment- Ellie would be leaving soon.
She was walking towards her truck, slightly dragging her feet from exhaustion, and you're happy she did so. It gave you enough time to run out of the house barefoot, container filled with the homemade goods in your hands.
"Ellie!-" you called out to her which made her turn around, her hand opening the driver side door.
You nearly bump into her, slightly out of breath as you held up the tupperware with both of your hands.
"Sorry- I made them last night, must've forgotten in to give 'em' to you earlier." Again, your voice is so sweet and innocent- like honey coated candies on her tongue.
A smirk grows on her face, taking the gift from you to inspect them.
"That's mighty kind of you.. oh no, are these blueberries?"
Your face contorts to concern, and Ellie can't help but think how fucking cute you look all worried like that.
"Yeah, why? Do you not like 'em?" You pout, almost like you're on the verge of tears
A low chuckle reverberates in her throat, "I'm just messing with you, doll. They look delicious."
"Meanie."
A few seconds of silence go by, and Ellie looks everywhere except your face, and I mean everywhere- including the plushness of your breast that spilled over the top of your dress - she couldn't have you knowing how red her cheeks are right now.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" She said it almost like a question- as if you'd miss out on such an opportunity.
"See you tomorrow, Ellie. Goodnight." You stand on your tippy toes, planting a quick kiss on the rounds of her cheeks, and run back inside, leaving Ellie in full panic mode.
She gets into her truck, taking a moment to herself before turning over the engine. Her fingers tighten around the steering wheel as she replays it in her head. She felt like she could combust, literally and figuratively- her head came down to rest on the wheel, and her cheeks ached from the smile that wouldn't seem to leave her lips.
In fact- she thought about it all night long. When she showered, when she laid in bed trying to sleep, she was tingling, an ache growing inside the depths of her stomach.
I mean, could you blame her? You didn't try to hide how hard you stared or how flirtatious you were towards her.
Maybe you were just like that with everyone.
Still- it didn't stop her. And It didn't stop her hand from slipping into the waistband of her checkered pajama pants, and it definitely didn't stop her from fingering herself to thoughts of you.
She came hard that night, harder than she had before, and she can't help but wonder- if simply her imagines of you felt this good, how would fucking you for real feel?
❄ taglist - @machetegirl109
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formosusiniquis · 5 months ago
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Robin's Guide to the Care and Feeding of Your Newly Adopted Former Mean Girl
Happy @stevieweek everybody! This is Day One: Stobin with none of the bonus prompts, but keep an eye out cause i've got a few more incoming this week.
Robin Buckley & Stevie Harrington; Pre-Stevie Harrington/Eddie Munson WC: 9483 | T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tags/Themes: transfem!Steve Harrington; Platonic Soulmates Steve & Robin; Robin Buckley is the Stevie Harrington Defense Squad
AO3
On July 4th, 1985, Steven Joseph Harrington died in the Starcourt Mall Fire. 
The story Robin Marie Buckley tells, after two weeks of hospitalization and an additional month in Indianapolis for “personal reasons,” when she returns to her senior year at Hawkins High a full week after the first day of school is one of abject heroism on the part of Steve.
It’s true, even if it isn’t the whole story. Just like it isn’t hard for her to play morose and avoidant, because that’s how she feels. She might know Dustin, but it’s too hard to spend much time with him and she doesn’t want to be the weird friendless senior who only talks to freshmen. She’ll leave that to Eddie Munson, who snatched Steve’s weird little child friends up only a few weeks into the first semester. 
Nancy and Jonathan avoid her as much as she does them, she doesn’t think they know what to do with the new girl in the know. It paints a picture, well she realizes later that it paints a picture, but she doesn’t want to sit at a table and eat her peanut butter and jelly sandwich while Nancy Wheeler’s big beautiful eyes are staring at her like she’s an article that’s half an inch too long and needs to be dissected while Jonathan Byers is also there.
So she drifts through the halls of Hawkins High like a ghost, she’s Cathy on the moors. Avoiding anyone who might try to ask her too many questions about the final days of Steve Harrington and Starcourt Mall.
Until the day she spots a baby blue jeep pulled into the Henderson’s driveway, a tall brunette unloading a single suitcase from the back. She’s got her bike across the road before she can even think of a game plan. A noise that’s almost like a scream erupting from her mouth the entire time she coasts over.
“You’re here, you’re here, you’re here!” It’s an uncharacteristic bit of grace, that lets her drop her bike to the ground and use its momentum to catapult herself into the other girl’s arms. Too excited for a second to remember that she’s in a place where small town gossip exists, and a new neighbor can fuel the mill for days.
But she enjoys her hug for a second before settling into a more appropriate character. She extends a hand, ignoring the laugh it gets her, “Welcome to Hawkins, I’m Robin, occasional Dustin babysitter.”
The girl’s smile pulls lopsided at her mouth, kissed with a bit of irony and undeniably charmed. “It’s nice to meet you Robin,” her voice is soft, and a little unsure. Wavering like Becky Simpson’s tone deaf oboe playing, unsure of what pitch and timbre to land on. “I’m Stephanie Henderson, Dustin’s cousin.”
The bit crumbles immediately between Robin’s fingers.
“Stephanie? You went with Stephanie? Are you kidding? We workshopped so many names!”
“I liked my name! But it’s weird apparently to be a girl named Steve.” She distributes finger quotes randomly throughout the sentence like Robin hadn’t been the one to say she didn’t know any girls named Steve. “Stephanie is pretty!”
Robin looks her best friend dead in the eye, unsurprised that there’s not a hint of humor even underneath the drama. “Never mind that it sure would be strange for Steve Harrington to die just for girl Steve who looks like she could be his cousin to move to town.”
“Affair baby,” Stephanie presents the solution with a flick of her hand. Robin notices that her nails are still chewed short, more noticeable  after they talked about what it would be like for her to grow them out and manicure them.
“Give me the whole name right now,” Robin demands, “I wanna hear how it sounds.”
Steph, cause they’re going to have to figure out nicknames immediately they just aren’t the kind of friends that can go around being Robin and Stephanie, kicks the curb with her scuffed up Nike. Her arms crossed across her middle accentuates the way her body has already started changing, Robin feels like a creep for a second for noticing her friend’s boobs before deciding that they weren’t the kind of friends with those kinds of boundaries.
“Stephanie Marie Henderson.”
“Oh my god!”
“Shut up, don’t even.”
“Oh. My. God.”
“You’re already making a big deal out of it, which it’s not.” Stevie insists.
“You stole my middle name, you’re so obsessed with me.” It’s the best thing she’s ever heard actually, that Stevie might be as into this friendship as she is. She’s always the friend that’s too much.
Stevie’s smile is small, shier than she’s used to seeing it. “Yeah well whatever Stephanie Robin sounds like a straight to VHS Winnie the Pooh movie character or some shit.”
Dustin comes scrambling out of the house before Robin can make another joke. “You were supposed to call before you left! Ma isn’t finished setting up your room, and Tews is stuck under your bed.”
They share a look, and Robin thrills a little that she has a friend that she can share looks with. “Henderson,” Stevie shouts, sounding a little more like she did this summer. “Are you really going to make me carry my own bags in? I'm a fucking lady, dickhead.”
“Sure don't fucking talk like one,” Dustin hollers back from the door, already trudging out of the house.
“Gonna have to work on your feminism,” Robin says. wondering what kind of weird shit a person would have to sort through when they realized they were transsexual. “Just because you're on estrogen doesn't mean your arms are atrophied.”
The butter-wouldn't-melt smile is still the same, even though her face looks softer. She hands off her suitcase, patting Dustin on the head as he visibly stumbles under the weight. “Don't drag it on the sidewalk, it's new,” she directs. 
He can't flip them off when it takes both hands to lift the luggage in his hand, “How are you more of an asshole, oh my god.”
“Is that anyway to talk to your cousin, Dustbunny?”
Dustin doesn't answer directly, but he's muttering under his breath the whole way to the house. 
“My ribs still hurt some when I'm doing heavy lifting,” Stevie says when he's out of earshot. “Better to be a high maintenance girl all of a sudden than someone he doesn't think he can count on.”
“Don't love the way you used girl in that sentence, Dingus.” Robin shoves at her shoulder, “Let's go look at your room, we can plan how you want to decorate.”
“I'm not saying I'm upset we got the job, Rob, just that it's weird the way Keith was acting. He always hated me, you know that. Before all this,” she gestures down her striped top, well Robin supposes she’s actually gesturing down at the way it hugs her figure, “he hated me. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t spit on me if I was on fire.”
“That seems a little dramatic, but welcome to your first workplace sexism.” Robin gives Stevie a comforting pat. Hopeful that it communicates a ‘welcome to the bad parts of everyone knowing you're a girl’ and not how she’d been prepared to work some of that sexism to their advantage. But apparently Keith was charmed by Stevie’s list of favorite films, he’d even laughed when she said her favorite Star Wars movie was the one with the teddy bears. When they’d gone to pick out movies last week she’d heard him lecture a guy for five minutes on how it was Episode VI not ‘the third one.’
Stevie flips her hair, sending Robin a playful glare, “I’ve experienced sexism, thank you, have you already forgotten what I used to look like.”
“I’m sure he’ll go back to hating you once he realizes you working here is going to mean this is one more place that Henderson and the brats are always hanging around.” She went with Stevie to the arcade once and she almost understood why Keith always hid in the back when they walked in. 
“Probably, but at least then I can stop being nice to him. He’s such a-” Robin can hear the way Stevie swallows the rest of the sentence. A frustrated, red blush flooding her cheeks as she bites down on her bottom lip. It’s confusing, the small shake of her head and how upset she suddenly seems to be with herself. “Sorry, sorry, never mind.”
Maybe it’s stupid, but for some reason that’s when Robin realizes that Stevie was about to say something mean. That Stevie stopped herself but she is, Robin supposes, frustrated that the instinct is still there. And it’s not like Robin doesn’t remember that they’ve talked about this before. Stevie with that eyepatch on from where they reattached her retina and Robin laying in the hospital bed next to her still under doctor’s supervision. Neither one of them were high anymore, it had been almost sixteen hours since Everything, they were only in the hospital at all because Robin’s mom had found them both passed out in her bed and panicked. When Mrs. Henderson had seen them both in Hawkins General and did what Stevie said was panicking and had them shipped to the city, her car speeding closely behind.
The only thing they could possibly be high on was the sudden crushing awareness of their own mortality, when Stevie’s one good eye locked with hers and she said, “I don’t want the first thing people think of when they remember me to be how I was a douche or an asshole. Or a bitch, I guess, if they actually let me change like they said they would.
“All the girls I know,” she paused and seemed to consider that, “all the girls that I still like, are good and kind and badass.”
“Including me?” Robin had teased, but she had remembered the way she had given Stevie such a hard time from the second they started working together until the moment they as the ‘adults’ realized they were going to have to protect Dustin and Erica from something that might kill them all.
“Especially you.”
So yeah, of course, when she catches herself about to verbally eviscerate Keith behind his back two weeks after being back in town she shuts down. But Robin isn’t about to let that happen. Stevie is good and kind and definitely a badass, if Keith were in trouble she would absolutely risk her life to save him -- as long as saving him didn’t keep her from saving one of the kids. 
Stevie was a good person who had some mean girl tendencies, Robin wasn’t going to make her feel bad about that. As long as she was using her powers for good, or like Claire in the Breakfast Club she was kind of Mean Girl lite.
“He’s kind of a slimy creep,” Robin admits. The kind of comment she thinks, but couldn’t ever really say with her last group of friends. It would break the loser code.
Stevie’s shoulders drop from around her ears. She’s still idly picking at the nail polish they just painted on her thumb, but she smiles over at Robin. A little sly, a little catty. “He touched my shoulder while we were leaving and I swear to god he left orange cheese puff residue behind.”
“Maybe half of your new clothes shouldn’t be dry clean only.”
“ Maybe he should help cover my dry cleaning bill if he’s going to put his hands on me in the workplace. I could call Family Video HR, probably. You know his dad owns like half of this strip mall, and people gave me shit about having money, I’m pretty sure they own the dry cleaning place too.”
“So why do these polyester nightmares smell like the BO of employees past?”
“That’s what I’m saying!”
With the job and Stevie back, Robin almost forgets that she spent the first three weeks of school sad and miserable. She’s maybe even a little distracted that they have plans tonight, and forgets that there are reasons other than the threat of bacterial infection to avoid the girl’s room in the language hallway. And more than any of that, it’s really hard to think about any of that when she can feel her bladder starting to pickle her brain.
The door to the bathroom swings open before she can exit the stall. Voices she recognizes as Patty Taylor and Molly Smith already mid-conversation filter in. “I mean she’s pretty, like really pretty, but I mean why would you even move to Hawkins.”
It’s definitely too late to leave.
“Carol said that she heard from Heather that she moved in with her aunt, she was from the city or something.”
The squelching sound of a lipgloss wand leaving the tube is punctuated by a bitchy hum, “Well, you know who spent all that time in the city this summer.”
“I mean yeah, but how would they have even met? I’ve heard like six different stories about why she was there.”
Patty’s voice echoes, through the crack in the stall door Robin can see her lean over top of the sink putting her face even closer to the water spotted mirror above it. “Well she was in that mall fire, but I heard she had to stay so long after initial treatment because she
”
There must be some facial expression she’s missing, Patty trails off like she’s dropped some grand secret. Robin isn’t a total loser, she hears gossip. She knows that Mrs. Click is going through a bitter divorce from her husband because he had that affair with the gas station attendant from the Chevron by the highway. She knows that Tim Morris got sent to military school after he put a cherry bomb in Mrs. O’Leary’s mailbox. She knows that Vickie is definitely a shoo-in for clarinet first chair even though Michael Lewis had it last year and he’s a senior this year.
And yeah okay two of those she had heard from Stevie.
But she thinks she should have had some clue that there was some kind of rumor going around about her. Molly wrinkles her forehead, maybe she isn’t the only one who has no clue about this rumor. “Because she what?”
“Because she lost the baby and they put her in the psych ward,” Patty says loud enough that it bounces off the tile walls of the bathroom. A hand covers her mouth and they both look around like they’ve just remembered that they’re in public. Robin pulls her feet up on the toilet seat with her.
“What baby?” Molly asks in a whisper that seems even louder with the way she forces it out.
“Come on, everyone knows the reason she was so upset that Steve died. He knocked her up while they were working together and with the stress she lost the baby. She was such a freak already, the new girl and her must have been in the same padded cell in the loony bin.”
“Really? I mean with Steve Harrington? ”
“I mean Carol said it so I’m pretty sure it has to be true, you know how close she used to be with Steve.” 
The bell rings, sending them both fleeing from the bathroom with muttered curses. Robin stays in the stall too stunned by what she’s heard to move. Stunned and filled with the thought that all she wants right now is to see Stevie.
She bumps into Eddie Munson on the way to the payphone. He gives her an unreadable look, mostly eyebrows that she can’t see beneath his bangs anyway, so she isn’t sure why he even bothers. Is he wondering why she’s skipping class? Or did he see her running from the bathroom and now he’s wondering if maybe the rumors were only partially true, that she’s still pregnant and she hadn’t lost the baby like apparently half the school thinks.
If a wet rat like Munson knows more about her status in the school than she does she really might have to go back and hurl.
She puts in her change and dials the increasingly familiar number for the Henderson place.
“Hen-”
“I need you to come pick me up, now.”
It isn’t hard to convince the school nurse, who’s more worried about when she can slip away to sneak her next cigarette than she is about doing any nursing, that she’s too sick to stay. So she’s waiting out front when Stevie’s new Jeep rockets into the parking lot, the woman of the hour flinging herself out of it before it’s fully in park. 
“What happened? What’s wrong? The kids are fine right?” She’s pressing the back of her hand to Robin’s forehead, the other at her side clenching into fists as she looks over Robin’s head for any creature or person that might need to be put down.
“Everything’s fine,” she lies, “I needed to see you.”
A single eyebrow raises, Robin helped her pluck that eyebrow into that arch and now it’s being used in disbelief at her own blatant lie. “Fine,” she relents, “I’ll tell you when we aren’t standing in the middle of the parking lot, okay?”
The radio is off but so are the doors, so even as Robin refuses to talk the sound of the wind rushing past them fills the silence of the car. With no destination in mind, Stevie seems to be driving a slow meandering circuit of Hawkins.
“I overheard Patty and Molly talking about us in the bathroom today.” She says only after they’ve passed Melvalds twice with no sign of parking.
“They were talking in the bathroom about us or they were talking about us in the bathroom.”
“That’s the same sentence twice.”
“No it’s not. In the bathroom or in the bathroom.” The emphasis is nonsensical, but after a second it clicks.
“They were in the bathroom. I guess I was also in the bathroom but it was definitely not about our bathroom conversation.”
“What were they saying?” Stevie noses out gossip like a search dog noses out missing kids.
Robin sticks her hand out the side of the car, dancing it up and down in the wind like a wave. Letting the force of it glide up and over her like she wishes she could just get over whatever it is that has her so upset. Gossip and rumor that she knows isn’t true.
“Technically you got to be two characters. They think we know each other from the psych ward because boy you got me pregnant and when you died I lost the baby and went crazy.”
Her seatbelt catches her hard against the chest, forcing the air out of her lungs. Stevie’s hit the brakes so hard that the smell of rubber is in the air, uncaring that they’re in the middle of a main road. She’s just looking at Robin with something, disbelief or outrage, maybe a little bit of that rage she gets when her people have been hurt.
“Patty said that? Patty Taylor? Patty with the retainer breath whose lipgloss makes it look like she’s always drooling on herself, Patty?”
A nod is enough answer for Stevie to let out a little humph, setting her eyes back to the road and easing them into drive like they’d just been caught by a stray redlight.
“What?” 
She shakes her head, gazing around the upcoming turn like they don’t both know it’ll be the rundown place that used to be Benny’s. It’s going to be something mean, something she’s worried will make her sound too much like the person she used to be.
As far as Robin is concerned whatever it is won’t be any different than when she swung that phone at that Russian guard. Or crashed that car into Billy’s. It’s all just different ways of helping to protect the people she loves that aren’t as good at protecting themselves.
“Tell me,” she insists, wheedles even. “Whatever it is I won’t tell anyone else. It’s time honored girl code you have to tell me.”
“Girl code?”
“I’ll mimeo you a copy of the handbook, tell me. It’ll make me feel better.”
Stevie’s sigh is audible over the wind rushing past them, her side eye not bad enough that Robin is at all worried about it. “I just think it’s funny that she’s passing judgment on you and your possible pregnancy when everyone knows she’s banned from the U of I campus because she went streaking to impress a guy that wasn’t even interested in her. The only reason she doesn’t have an arrest record for it is because her dad is a former professor or donor or something and threatened funding if the Dean pressed charges.”
“Oh my god, really?”
“Totally, the guy was on the basketball team. He came back and told everyone when he came home for the pre-season kegger.”
She grabs Stevie’s hand off the gearshift, holds it just because she can. Relishes in the closeness the two of them can have now that she’s back and everything is better again. “You are the strongest woman I know, all this knowledge and you just keep it to yourself all the time.”
She snorts, squeezing Robin’s hand, “I literally don’t, I just told you something. Pretty sure that’s like if I had the nuclear launch codes or something and I gave them out to just one person because they’re having a really bad day.”
“Oh! Do you remember doing those stupid duck and cover drills in elementary school?”
“Oh that's really nice of you, Mrs. Buckley, but Aunt Claudia is expecting me home for dinner.” Stevie's voice calls from outside the door, only a surprise because they didn't have plans to hang out today.
She scrambles from her bed, the wire on her headphones tangling around her neck until the weight of her walkman drags them off her. Flinging the door open she's just in time to save her best friend. “Thanks for bringing her up, Mom, we’re just gonna hang out in my room til Steph has to leave, okay?”
Shoving Stevie toward the bed before her Mom has a chance to say anything else, Robin at least smiles before she shuts the door in her mother’s face.
“What happened?”
Stevie is digging through her jewelry box, has a ring Robin picked up at a garage sale because it looked cool and didn’t think about trying on, and doesn’t bother looking ashamed at being caught snooping. “Why does something have to be wrong?”
She slips the ring on her finger, the gold band and mossy green stone looks better on her than it would have Robin. “You can keep it if you admit something happened.” Stevie starts to raise an eyebrow, but it halts half way up her forehead when Robin gives the Family Video vest she’s still wearing a tug.
Her smile goes lopsided, tilts too high on one side before she wanders over to flop down on the bed. “I, maybe, did something stupid.”
Flopping down beside her, Robin swears when she lands on her walkman first. “Stupid like when you put Re-Animator in the romance section or stupid like when you tripped into the Back to the Future cutout and apologized cause you weren't wearing your glasses.”
“Stupid like I don't know, Rob, you know how at first I was pretending that I didn't know anyone when they came in right, cause I'm supposed to be new in town.”
“Like bad witness protection because they put you right back where you left.”
“Right, well I kinda forgot to do that this morning when I was working by myself?”
Looking now she can tell this is something that has had Stevie really worked up. The strands of hair at the front of her face have lost some of their beachy wave from where she's been fussing with it, pushing it back, tugging at it. Waiting for when she saw Robin again.
Sitting up from the bed, she grabs Stevie's hand in a too tight grip. “What happened? You're okay right? They didn't recognize you and do anything shitty, right?”
“Well that's the thing,” she somehow looks even more distressed, it gives Robin another clue. Stevie is afraid she's broken some unspoken rule of girlhood by doing whatever it is she's done. Which means the story will be interesting.
“So Roger came in, you know Roger right? Second stringer on the basketball team, his footwork was too slow to ever actually be any good on the court but he had an amazing three pointer as long as no one was ever anywhere near him. So he'd make a great professional HORSE player but not really going anywhere with the actual game. He came in with his girlfriend-”
“Mindy Peterson.”
“Right, and when did they even get together?” She shakes her head. “Not the point, I was flipping through the Tiger Beat that Cindy left in the drawer after her shift, cause this months Car and Driver was a total waste of money. And he wanders up, surprising me cause the bell over the door still doesn't work and I thought I was alone in there. He starts talking to me like he already knows me.”
“He was flirting with you in front of his girlfriend!”
“That wasn't flirting, he was just being friendly; and I didn't know Mindy was there, she was back in the romance section picking something out.”
“So he's flirting with you while his girlfriend is picking out something for date night.”
Stevie rolls her eyes, shoving not so gently at Robin's shoulder. “He was talking to me like he already knew me, and I do know him so I did the same. I mentioned the last game he played in, well we played in. And then he starts looking at me and I realized what I look like.”
She gestures down at herself, and Robin isn't sure if this is a compliment time or a diffuse the situation time. Stevie really doesn't look that much like she used to. Her face has softened, her hair is longer, and she's leaned into the blonde highlights that she had in the summer.
“He's all ‘Do I know you?’” She continues, and Robin laughs, it's crazy how deep she can still get her voice and even though Roger does not have anything approaching the bass that Stevie has given him. It makes the situation feel even more bizarre. “it's not like I can say, ‘What you don't recognize me from all the times I gave you advice on how to keep yourself open on offense so you could actually get a hand on the ball?’”
Robin reaches for the nail polish on her bedside table, the robin's egg blue Stevie has taken to and the taupe brown that she likes but doesn't clash with Stevie's. They both pick at their nails when they get nervous, and Stevie has definitely been nervous.
“You could have said that,” she says just to be contrary, Stevie hand held in hers it means Robin avoids the smack that would have come.
She puts blue on every finger but one, letting Stevie think as she caps the polish and grabs the taupe to finish the hand. “Hi remember me, I faked my death so I could get boobies without getting murdered in the pumpkin patch I already avoided almost dying in once. Did you know they give you a new social security number for that?”
“So what did you actually do?”
“I lied, obviously.” She blinks twice, opens her eyes wider so she looks doe-eyed and vacant. “Oh gosh, well I guess you wouldn’t remember me. I used to only come to Hawkins during the holidays to babysit my little cousin, and I always try to catch a basketball game when I’m in town. Sometimes I’d sneak out and go to the parties, but I’m shy so...”
“Oh my god, like you’ve ever been shy in your life.”
“I’m going to have to be now!” She throws her hands up, fingers spread wide to avoid accidentally smudging her fresh nails. “It’s not like I can lie my way out of admitting to sharing homeroom with someone next. I’m just lucky Roger’s never took his eyes off the bottom button of my blouse.”
“Do you remember that movie I made you watch a couple months ago, the black and white one?”
“Oh yeah, that really narrows it down.”
“Gaslight, the one with the opera singer’s niece and her new husband tries to make her think she’s crazy. We just lie until everyone is convinced that it’s the truth.”
“The truth being that Stephanie Henderson always existed?”
Eye contact isn’t easy, unless it’s Stevie. They hold each other’s gaze as the excitement bubbles between them. “Exactly,” Robin says, “and that if they think anything else, they’re crazy.”
“You’re ridiculous.” She says, but it sounds like ‘you’re on.’
“Can I be a bitch for a second?” Stevie asks. She doesn’t look up from whatever magazine she was already flipping through when Robin walked through the door. It’s too casual, too calculated.
Progress has been slow but she’s slowly getting Stevie to the point where she doesn’t feel like she has to be nice all the time just because she’s a girl. Where she still acts like the bitchy dingus she'd been before, just a happier version.  
“Obviously, just let me clock in.”
When she gets back Stevie has a stack of returns that she’s working on rewinding. One thumb in her mouth as she chews at the cuticle. “So what’s-?
“If I hear one more word about Eddie the Freak, I’m going to lose it, Rob. I mean what’s he got that’s so great? I could have taken us to the All State Championships if I hadn’t gotten that last concussion saving the twerps. I’ve saved all those twerps’ lives at least two times! I was cool. I am cool! But all I get to hear these days is ‘Oh, Stevie, Eddie just did the coolest thing in the campaign today.’ ‘Thanks for the advice, Stevie, but I’m going to go with what Eddie said instead.’ ‘I know it’s your only day off, Stevie, but could you pick us up late after school? There's Hellfire today.’ ‘Stevie, since Keith actually likes you could you hold Ladyhawke for us. Oh, no we’re going to do a movie night with Eddie.’”
She’s panting slightly when she’s finished, like she’s been holding this in for weeks. With all the quotes she’s racked up she probably has been.
“You know he kicked my tray off the lunch table last week,” she encourages. She snags a box of Sour Patch Kids from the candy counter. Popping one in her mouth before waving the bag under Stevie’s frowning face. She doesn’t even have a movie turned on. Well she does, but it looks like it was one of the weekend returns Stevie wasn’t going to put on Watership Down.
“Well he’s inconsiderate,” Stevie says, digging around in the box until she finds a red one and popping it into her mouth. “Everything is all fuck the man until he’s the man in question and then he’s the only one anyone should listen to about anything. Lucas is going to make the basketball team, he’s been working really hard on it with Jay and some of the other guys on the team.”
She’s basically taken the whole box of candy at this point. Robin doesn’t even care, just watches as Stevie picks out her favorite colors and lines them up on her magazine on the counter like a sweet and sour army. Completely oblivious to the quiet devastation that’s playing out on her face. Her brow furrowed and tight when she talks about Lucas, basketball another thing Robin wonders if she’s being unintentionally left out of.
“I just know Munson’s going to turn it into some us or them thing, like it isn’t possible to like more than one thing.”
“Maybe you-”
“And maybe that’s why they’ve been so cool with all of this,” she shrugs her shoulder in place of gesturing down at herself, too busy tearing apart a lone sourpatch general, “like it was a send off before they moved on to an actual guy who can actually do something for them. That’s probably a better send off than I deserve even right, like I mean, the kind of person I used to be. Maybe I don’t get more than one happy thing.”
Robin flattens the little red and green army underneath the flat of her hand, “Absolutely not. You are not going to let a
 a
 a dumpster raccoon with Mrs. Goble’s mystery meat on the bottom of his stupid shoes make you think that you don’t deserve the entire world.”
“But-” Stevie tears at the cardboard of the box between her fingers, leaving little pieces of it on the floor between her feet.
“But nothing, your little shithead kids might have latched onto the first giant nerd that looked at them when they crossed through the doors of the high school like freshly hatched ducklings but you’re the coolest person they’ve ever had the chance to meet and it’s their loss if they don’t notice.”
“I mean they’re in high school so-”
“So they’ve decided to get all the stupid decisions out at the start. It’s a bold decision but maybe that will keep them from-”
“From crashing their dad’s truck into half the cars at prom?”
“I wish one of them had been yours,” she steals the last red Sour Patch from between Stevie’s fingers, popping it into her mouth before her best friend can do anything about it.
“You’re never going to pass your driver’s test, I hope you like the bus.”
“You’re going to drive me to work forever because you love me,” she drags love out as she dances away from Stevie’s slapping hands, snagging a stack of tapes to return to the shelves as she goes.
There’s no way Stevie isn’t rolling her eyes, but Robin also knows that she’ll look all soft and pleased. Knows because a yellow candy smacks hard against the copy of The Breakfast Club that’s right beside her head.
“What the hell is going on with that rabbit?”
“Pretty sure it’s proof that you should never be trusted to pick the shift movie.”
“Stevie’s being a total headcase this week, will you tell her to chill out,” Henderson delivers what Robin is going to generously call a request after cornering her between fourth and fifth periods. Cause if it isn’t a request then it’s an order or a demand, and her small friend is not going to be happy with what she has to say in that case.
“Well that depends, Dusty, why are you calling my best friend a headcase?”
He rolls his eyes at her, a trait that Stevie might put up with but Robin is not about to. “Because she’s being one, every time I try to talk to her it’s like
” he trails off. That’s probably for the best.
“It’s like all you can talk about is your new best friend Eddie? It’s like you aren’t interested in her now that you’ve got some new brother that you can hang out with instead? It’s like all she’s good for is a ride to see the boys? It’s like you can’t ask her how to talk to girls anymore or how you should do your hair because she’s not the same anymore.”
“I didn’t say that,” he shrieks, hands waving between them like he can swipe away the thousand bees that are her accusations. She feels stinging mad actually now that she’s started putting words out there for the things that she’s feeling.
“You don’t have to say it, it’s what you’ve been doing.”
“Did she say that?” Robin gently swings her locker door just shy of closed. Dustin looks younger than she thinks she’s seen him since the first time they met. Looks smaller than she’s seen him in her life. Looking up at her with big watery eyes, waiting for her to make it okay.
Stevie’s gonna be pissed if she doesn’t at least try to make it okay.
She picks each word carefully, not wanting him to feel completely off the hook, “She didn’t say it exactly like that.”
Dustin looks at the floor, his hat obscuring his face enough that she can’t tell if he’s followed through on the watery eyes to full crying. The ambiguity makes him easier to talk to for a second, now that she doesn’t have to worry about watching what his expression is doing.
“She’s still the same person who walked down the train tracks with a kid she barely knew looking for his runaway science experiment. She’s still the person who did your hair for the snowball. She’s the person who went hunting for Russian spies with you. She’s the person that would like to keep giving you terrible advice on how to date.”
His next breath is phlegmy and ragged. “It wasn’t terrible advice.”
“Right, right, your Moonchild Empress or whatever.”
Dustin hasn’t been quiet once in the entire time that she’s known him so Robin assumes the quiet means he’s done talking. Swinging her locker back open she goes back to what she was doing before he interrupted, which had, coincidentally been Stevie related. Deciding whether or not she was going to bring her copy Watership Down to work with her so Stevie could see what was up with the rabbits.
“They should meet.”
Robin had also been leaning toward introducing her to Fiver and Hazel, but she doesn't think that’s what Dustin means.
“Who should-”
“Stevie and Eddie,” he looks at her with a wide grin. An expression she recognizes from shortly before she found herself in an elevator to hell. Dustin thinks he's just had a good idea. “Stevie can see that Eddie's super cool, Eddie will stop- And once they know each other we can hang out all the time, why didn't I think of this before!”
It does occur to her that she could remind Dustin that Stevie existed before July of 1985. That she went to school here and definitely already knows Eddie, that's where half the problem comes from even. But then she thinks of how much fun their next sleepover will be, when Stevie has brand new things to hate and make fun of.
“Maybe you're right Dustin, maybe that is the problem.”
He pumps his fist in time with the warning bell. “This is going to be great, I can't believe I didn't already think of this.”
He's still talking to himself as he starts to scamper off to a class he's going to be late to. But she isn’t about to let him leave without making sure he took away the real lesson he was supposed to. “And pass along to your little friends that her new meds didn't lobotomize her brain or amputate her legs. She can still tell you how to talk to girls, she can still shoot a free throw, she can still show you how to change a tire after it's blown out on the interstate.”
Dustin's staying with the Wheelers, Claudia has the night shift which means she and Stevie have the whole house to themselves.
Robin is making herself at home in Stevie's room, moving extra quilts and pillows from the linen closet into a fort she's making on the floor. Because today is going to be the best bitch day in the world, once Stevie makes it home from playing chauffeur. Because today Stevie gave in and went to lunch and a movie with Dustin and his new best friend Eddie.
She keeps trying to imagine what Stevie will say. Maybe Munson dips his fries in syrup or something disgusting. Maybe he showed up to the movie in his nerd brigade shirt. Maybe he showed up thirty minutes late! And the Stevie in her head has devastating things to say about all of those things, but she knows none of them are right. She just can't manage the right amount of even toned bitchery that Stevie can, the clever double entendre that makes the person she's insulting look all the dumber for getting upset at the blatant quips.
“Did you really bike here, you weirdo? You know I would have picked you up.” Stevie's voice carries down the hallway, accented by the sound of her keys hitting the bowl by the door and her shoes getting picked up from the floor and set down in the shoe tree.
“You got that bike rack for the Jeep. I wanted to make sure it actually got some use.”
The answering laugh is the one Robin possessively thinks of as hers, a little ugly, high pitched and snorting. It makes it to the bedroom just a second before Stevies face. A face that's wearing the lipgloss with the glitter in it, the one she saves for when she's trying to impress someone or make them look at her mouth.
“You look nice?”
“Such a charmer, Rob, no wonder you've got so many girls banging down your door.” She eases herself down onto the floor beside Robin, smoothing out a buttery yellow skirt that has to be new. She knows every single item in Stevie's closet, except this skirt.
She isn't going to think about how Stevie went out shopping without her though. She'd rather focus her attention somewhere more entertaining. “How was lunch?”
Stevie fusses with the edge of her skirt, rolling the hem of it between two fingers. Her face pinking though under that she's smiling. “Ugh you wouldn't even believe Henderson was a twerp, as usual. Insisted that he had to have one side of the table to himself, ordered two milkshake flavors so he could mix them together, and of course I'm paying for the whole thing.”
“Dustin being a dweeb is old news, what else happened at lunch.”
“I mean,” she trails off, making a face Robin has never seen before. Which shouldn't be possible, she thinks she is supposed to have seen all of Stevie's faces.  “Munson was a total freak, obviously. Kept calling me ‘My Lady’ and all that nerd shit. You’d think I came in with a cast with the way he opened every door and kept pulling out my chair.” 
It all sounds decidedly unfreakish to Robin, in fact it sounds like Stevie finds the guy charming. She realizes with something close to horror that she does actually recognize the expression on Stevie’s face. Just not on her best friend. It’s the bashful, twitterpated expression of a girl at a sleepover trying not to admit she has a crush. An expression that might as well be a death knell, cause the only time she’s ever seen it is right before date night started beating girl’s night.
“Not that it matters, the guy doesn’t know how to take a joke,” Stevie goes on, her smile still too shy to fully bloom but no less in place. Even as she pretends that whatever this is is supposed to be some dealbreaker. “I asked him what he gets out of playing Halflings and Half-wits with the dweeb squad and I thought he was going to climb on the table right there. Ed-weird went on for like five minutes on how the gremlins are some of the best players he’s ever played with, and they're an endless fount of creativity that keeps him perpetually on his toes.”
Stevie never actually stood a chance. And if Robin had been paying attention she would have realized that. 
There wasn’t anyone who loved passionate, nerdy people as much as Stevie.
Eddie Munson wore his king of the loud mouthed nerds crown with pride. And he was as obsessed with the gremlins as Stevie was 
“Why are we talking about him?” She flops over until her head is in Robin’s lap, flopping one arm outside of the pillow fortress to reach under the bed. She crows, victorious, holding a jar that's pond scum brown like it’s treasure. “Had to hide this after Dust put it in his hair. Put this goop on your face and tell me about what Vickie said in band yesterday again. Cause I'm pretty sure she was dating Dan Summers last year, and he didn't really seem like the type of guy to stay with his high school girlfriend.”
It's coincidence, pure and simple, that puts her right outside O'Donnell's fourth period class. Thompson's study hall, her own fourth period, was technically across the building but everyone knew Mr. Thompson came to work on Mondays too hungover to care about attendance.
And study hall didn't have a certain wannabe friend-dater standing outside it, debating whether or not he was going to go inside.
She is still figuring out her angle of attack when it looks like he's decided he is actually going to class. Considering O’Donnell is the type to write office referral slips to kids who aren’t meant to be in her room for ‘being a distraction’ there isn’t really any time for subtlety. Still, she’s surprised by the tone of her own voice when she shouts, “Munson!”
Heads turn in the hallway, of course they do. Faces she only knows by virtue of twelve years of school watching on with a lust for future violence she recognizes from that concrete bunker. But if Munson is concerned that a girl he's never spoken to is yelling at him, he doesn't look it as he turns on both heels to face her.
He smiles first, benignly pleasant. But Stevie taught her that trick, smiling to diffuse anger or hide how she has no idea how the person talking to her actually knows her. Munson is doing both, they had two classes together last semester and she was in the orchestra for the last school musical.
The blankness eventually clears from his eyes, “Bye Bye Buckley!”
Not about to be distracted by the dumbest reference she's ever heard, and with the eyes of at least two people she can see on her, she drags Munson away from class. It's bound to be all around the school by the dismissal bell, but rumor is less important than the mission.
The girls room by the library is always abandoned. The mirrors are dingy or cracked and it always smells like cat piss for no discernable reason. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” He looks around the bathroom with an inquisitive eye like the grimy bluish tile is somehow more interesting than her. “I'm not actually carrying if you were-”
He doesn't have the decency to stumble when she shoves at his chest, trying to push him back into the stall doors.
“What are your intentions with Stevie?”
“Ah yes, the mysterious cousin Henderson. Who says I have intentions?” His only saving grace is that it takes her too long to get her thoughts in order. A miasma of rants at the tip of her tongue about Stevie and how she was too good for him and any thoughts he might be having about her. 
But in the time it takes to see through her friend based rage, she’s able to watch a transformation take place on Eddie’s face. The smug aloofness that had taken over his face from the moment she cornered him in the hallway washes away. Leaving behind something giddy and young, bright eyes and a flushed face. “Unless she was asking about me. You two are bosom friends, are you not Diana? That would make me Gilbert Blythe, hell of a role.”
“I’m sure there are plenty of people who wish they could break a slate over your head.”
“You’re probably right, doesn’t answer my question though. Was your dear Anne Shirley talking about me?” He scuffs a boot against the floor. Doing an impressive impression of a bashful school boy while standing in front of her in his ratted out, heavy metal glory. There are at least four chains that she can spot on his outfit right now but his face would be just as at home on Opie Taylor.
But she isn’t going to get fooled by some routine. She has something to say and she’s going to make sure she says it.
“She’s really special, Munson. She’s not some cheerleader you fuck in the woods because she wants to get back at her parents that are divorcing and you’re the scariest thing available that isn’t actually dangerous.”
“Tell me how you really feel, Buckley.” The retort seems to drag itself from his mouth on instinct. Cause the aw shucks routine he’d been giving is lying broken on the floor replaced by open mouthed shock.
“I am.” The bell rings, marking them both officially late for class. She glares him down, waiting to see if he’ll leave, effectively flinching first. He glares back. “She’s an athlete, likes sports.”
Maybe it’s wrong to list the things about Stevie that she knows Munson won’t like. But she also isn’t about to let her best friend water herself down for some stupid boy.
“Wayne will be thrilled to have someone who understands what he’s talking about. Go team.”
“She hates fantasy. Dustin loaned her his copy of Fellowship of the Ring and she gave it back when they kept singing.”
“I’m sure she’d like it if I sang them for her.”
“She isn’t going to become some demure, church mouse just because you’re around. She’s snarky and confident and, and
”
He sets a hand on her shoulder in a way that is so patronizing she wishes she were as good at being a bitch as Stevie was. But she suppresses her first instinct to bite him if only because she’s working at keeping up her record of 4578 days without biting a classmate.
“I don’t know what any of that means,” he says, “but it sounds like you and your hot best friend have been talking about me. So thanks for that intel, Bucks.”
People wearing leather and motorcycle boots shouldn’t be able to skip. The stupid hanky in his stupid pocket flaps behind him like a wagging tail as Munson leaves her in the girls room with the smell of ammonia.
Stevie has Breakfast at Tiffany’s playing on the TV when Robin makes it to work. Keith let them have most of their shifts together but drew the line at letting Stevie shut the store down to come pick her up after school. So on days where Stevie works a double, she’s stuck arriving to work sweaty and guessing at whatever movie will have ended up on the big TV.
And today she gets to catch Stevie standing in the middle of the floor, a stack of tapes in her arms, while she watches the party happening in Holly Golightly’s apartment. Audrey Hepburn swaying with her guest in the middle of the floor.
“Someone’s in a mood.” 
From over her shoulder, Stevie sends Robin a look. Something loaded with dry humor and a smugness that usually means something juicy happened in the time before Robin got there.
Usually.
There’s something about the look today that feels personally directed at her.
“Well it was this or Some Like it Hot, and the stay at home moms are weird about black and white movies that aren’t the first few minutes of Wizard of Oz.”
“That’s sepia.”
“Bless you.”
Making sure Stevie can see her rolling her eyes, she heads to the back to clock in. By the time she makes it back, Stevie has the volume turned down on Holly Golightly’s romantic disasters. She’s back behind the counter, head pillowed in her hands and Robin remembers why people used to be a little scared of her popular kid cabaret. Walking up the center aisle, she feels like she’s headed straight toward a tiger with its mouth open and she’s about to put her head in there. 
“So you’ll never believe what happened earlier,” Stevie taps her nail against her cheek.
“Paul Collins came in with his mistress to look at porn again?”
Humming, Stevie doesn’t say anything as Robin comes behind the counter with her. There’s a stack of tapes that need to be rewound and a roll of Be Kind Rewind stickers that need to be stuck to cases.
“Still time for that,” she says right as Robin started to think they were going to drop it. “Sally Tyler called from the payphone.”
“Sally from the basketball team?”
“Yeah,” that smile is even wider. This is almost certainly payback for the You Suck board. “I’m thinking about joining her rec team but we’ve played one-on-one in the park once or twice.”
“And she had a Family Video emergency that only you could solve?”
“Sorta. She was just really concerned, she’d heard a rumor that my best friend was dragging the guy she saw me having lunch with this weekend into the girls room.”
This is definitely payback for the You Suck board. Stevie’s looking a little too pleased with herself as she smiles at what can only be Robin’s slack jawed surprise.
“I get if you're mad,” she says and that’s all she can assume is happening, she isn’t sure how else to read what’s happening on Stevie’s face. “But-”
“Thank you.”
“I was just trying to- What?”
“Come on,” she rolls her eyes, swipes a half hearted smack to Robin’s shoulder. “I’ve been on the other side of that, you know. Well meaning friends pulling me aside to ask what my intentions are.”
“Oh my god, did she follow us in there?”
Delight makes Stevie’s eyes sparkle, “Did you actually? I love you. Did you give him hell?”
“I think he got the upperhand.”
“I think it’s all the playing pretend. The shitheads will run circles around the unprepared too.”
It seems a little too good to be true. “You really aren’t mad?”
Someone abandoned The Breakfast Club at the scene where Ally Sheedy gets the makeover. It had seemed like a stupid scene when she’d seen it in theaters, now it makes something weird pit in the bottom of her stomach. She doesn’t get the chance to hit rewind, to send Allison back in time so she can be strange and herself again, because Stevie is flipping her around and pulling her into a bone crushing hug.
“First of all,” she says into the side of Robin’s hair, “the only thing I’m even a little miffed about is you thinking I couldn’t kick Munson’s ass myself. But no one’s ever done anything like that for me before so I’m cool with letting it slide.”
“But we are acknowledging that you definitely have a thing for the guy with the rattiest hair in the school. Probably even Roane county.” Robin says, face pressed into the meat of Stevie’s shoulder.
Stevie shoves her away with a groan that Robin’s laughter is already drowning out. “Yeah, alright. He’s kind of okay I guess.”
“Such sweet words for the father of your brood.”
“He’s not the father of my anything,” she flips her hair over one shoulder, “anyway I think he gets off on it so I’m gonna keep being mean to him.”
“That was more than I wanted to know about either of you.”
“No it wasn’t, you like that I’m mean too. You get all sad faced when you think I’m trying to bury my impulses.”
For the second time today Robin is left too surprised to say anything. She’s left gaping, not that Stevie is looking at her now; too busy picking at the nail polish left on her pinky. 
“I like it,” she says quietly after a moment. Robin has shut her mouth by the time Stevie looks up at her again, something soft but serious on her face. She reaches across the counter to grab Robin by the hand, melding what’s left of their coordinating manicures by linking their fingers. “You’re my number one. Even if Eddie does anything about anything, he’s going to have to compete with you.”
Neither of them move as the weight of the moment surrounds them like one of Mrs. Henderson’s quilts. Heavy and homey and right. But they are still at work and as the bell beside the door dings, and they break their silence to greet their new customer in tandem, they shrug off the heavy sincerity for something more functional. Stevie’s smile turns sly, and she tugs Robin closer while keeping an eye on the man now browsing the comedies. “You’ll never guess who came in earlier to ask if we had Nine and a Half Weeks yet.”
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the-fiction-witch · 6 months ago
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A Star P2
Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Sweet Word Count - 748
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As the night deepened, Aegon kept a watchful eye over Orion any time he so much as wiggled Aegon was there looming over the crib. Although his own eyes were tired and heavy, he diligently remained by the baby's side. When it reached the hour of the wolf, Aegon gently picked up Orion and carried him into the bedroom and gently began to awake Y/n, just as promised. He knew she must be feeling exhausted and did feel bad for waking her but he didn’t want to call the milk maid in to feed baby Orion without at least asking Y/n how she felt about it given Orion had only been at Y/n’s breast since birth. "Y/n, it's time... Orion is hungry," he said gently, his voice soft but determined.
She yawned and sat up in bed a little she rubbed her eyes and opened her arms for the baby almost as instinct,
Aegon nodded and carefully placed Orion in her arms. The baby let out soft mewling noises, clearly hungry. As she took Orion into her embrace, Aegon positioned a pillow behind her back to provide some additional support. He knew that feeding time could be physically demanding, especially after giving birth and he sat himself down on the bed ready to help out any more if needed,
she sighed and pulled down her dress, it took a good few attempts to get Orion to latch to her breast but finally the baby began to drink and she sat trying to relax but her eyes squeezed tight from the pain
Aegon watched as she struggled to nurse Orion. He could see the pain etched on her face as the baby latched on. It was evident that the process was not easy, and he felt a pang of guilt for not being able to fully understand the pain she was going through. He gently rubs her back and trying to provide some comfort. "Is there anything I can do to help, or anything you need?" He asked softly, genuinely,
"you could grow breasts that would help," she joked in her tried state,
Aegon chuckled softly, "Ah, I'm afraid that's not in my power. If I could grow breasts and feed our son, I would do so in a heartbeat." He continued to gently rub her back, offering what little solace he could provide during this moment. "I wish I could take some of this pain away from you."
"It's alright it shall only get easier," she said, "Could you fetch me a drink I should really drink when he feeds so it has time before the next feeding I don't want little boy to find the teats are tapped out,"
Aegon chuckled lightly at the request, nodding in agreement. "Of course, I'll fetch you a drink. Do you have any preferences or should I just bring you something sweet and warm?" He carefully rose from his seat, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder before making his way out of the room to fetch you the desired beverage.
"Whatever you have
 but wine would be nice. Strong wine"
Aegon smiled at her request for strong wine, appreciating the straightforwardness. He quickly made his way to the nearby table and made a goblet up of strong wine. As he walked back to the room, he couldn't help but chuckle a little at the sight. His wife sitting there nursing a small infant, so he hands the goblet over, "There you go... strong and intoxicating just as you wanted."
“Thank you, Your Grace,” She nodded immediately drinking about half of the goblet,
“You don’t have to call me that, you’re my wife, mother of our child,” He told her,
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, just Aegon,”
“Yes, you- Aegon.” She nodded, “Ohh all done, he wasn’t as hungry as he thought he was,” she said taking Orion away,
“I’ll take him,” he smiled happily taking little Orion again and wiping the milk from his mouth, “oh look at you, milk all down yourself,” He chuckled, “he really is like a little drunk,”
“Umm he’ll be milk drunk now, needs burping and a nap,”
“Alright, I’ll burp him and put him down. You get some more rest,”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure, you rest I’ll handle him.” he smiled kissing her cheek before he puts Orion on his shoulder and behind to burp the baby on his way back to the main part of their chamber,
“Aegon?”
“Yeah?” He turned,
“Be gentle,”
“I will I promise,”
“And
 thank you,”
“You’re very welcome Y/n,” He blew her a kiss before closing the bedroom door,
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redvexillum · 4 months ago
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A/N: This is supposed to be a one shot, this is supposed to be a one shot, this is supposed to be a one shot...
SUMMARY: Your boss, Vox, is a class-A hole, and you had envisioned tormenting him for all the overtime he was forcing you to work. Truly, he was ensuring that your time in Hell was...Hell. Perhaps it was you burning out, but you had a very vivid, steamy dream of your boss.
...At least, you were pretty sure it was a dream.
TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, assistant!reader, dom!reader, sub!Vox, dual POV, hating your boss to confused h*rny, reader is extremely sleep deprived and is so done with Vox's shenanigans, mutual attraction, pining, self-pleasure (Vox), light bondage
<- PREV
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To Vox, every single one of his employees was replaceable, save for one. When she first signed the contract to work for him, he had zero expectations. She was just another warm body to fill in until he found a more competent personal assistant (his last one had died during the extermination – such a shame). 
Her tasks were mundane: fetching coffee, picking up dry cleaning, scheduling appointments. Essentially, she acted as his personal maid. She was the quiet type and listened to his orders unquestionably, or so he initially thought.  
Three months into her employment and everything changed. She had the audacity to barge into his office without knocking. Before he could reprimand her for her blatant disrespect, she cut him off with her demands. She wanted more responsibilities, claiming she was far more capable than just picking up his dry cleaning.  
Initially, Vox was furious. Who was she to make demands? But he saw an opportunity to put her in place, to humiliate her. He piled on the tasks of his deceased assistant, in addition to her current responsibilities, thinking she would crumble under the pressure.  
Instead, he watched as a determined fire blazed in her eyes. She tackled the workload with relentless tenacity, pulling overtime while the rest of his employees bolted out the door at 5:00 p.m. sharp. Day after day, night after night, she worked tirelessly, her dedication unwavering.  
At the end of her first year working at VoxTek, she once again barged into his office, this time holding the company’s Q4 earnings report. A bright smile lit up her face as she dropped the document on his lap. Vox scanned the report, his eyes, and his smile widening in disbelief. The company had earned 60% more compared to the previous year – an unprecedented achievement.  
“Good job,” he muttered, trying to mask his surprise. But he couldn’t ignore the unexpected sensation that followed. His heart skipped a beat as he watched her face beaming with pride and joy.  
A quiet groan from one of his monitors interrupted his trip down memory lane. His eyes flicked to the screen displaying a live feed from the security camera trained on her. Her contract bound her to VoxTek, to him, for ten years, and already she was reaching the end of their agreed upon contract.  
He drummed his claws against the table, his gaze fixed on her. She rubbed her eyes while stifling a yawn in her other hand. He wanted her. He wanted her to work for him for more than ten years.  
Vox wanted her to work for him, to be with her, forever.  
It was rare to find a competent employee like her, and even rarer to find someone who could match his passion for the company’s success. As he continued to watch her, he felt a thick lump forming in his throat. She stretched her back, jutting her chest forward, and sighed pleasantly as she rolled her shoulders back. She then dropped her head to review the documents, with her brows knitted together and her gaze sharp with concentration. 
The past couple of years had been rough on them. She seemed increasingly eager to leave work on time, and he had caught her talking to someone on the phone in a sweet, gentle voice – a tone he missed hearing from her. The ends of his lips were weighed down by
 
Vox wasn’t sure what he was feeling. This murky, heavy feeling that seemed to cling to his heart and slowly smother the breaths out of his lungs.  
Recently, every time he saw her, this feeling gnawed at him, growing stronger with each passing day. It worsened as he noticed she was no longer happy working for him — hell — even seeing him seemed to ruin her mood for the worse. A spark of electricity flickered from his head, turbulent emotions swirling within him as he recalled last week’s incident.  
As usual, she had barged into his office once again, and her timing couldn’t have been worse. Vox had just finished arguing with Val and was sporting a nasty crack that splintered across his face. He remembered feeling appalled, almost embarrassed, at the thought of her seeing him like this. He wanted to be nothing but perfect and powerful in front of her.  
For the first time in the near decade she had worked under him, Vox lost all his composure and screamed at her to get the fuck out of his office. He had his back to her and couldn’t see her face. He didn’t need to. He could imagine exactly what expression contorted her pretty features.  
She quietly whispered, “Yes, sir,” her voice sounded vulnerable and weak. It was from that moment that she stopped calling him Vox altogether.  
The memory of that moment haunted him. He had never intended to
hurt her. Seeing her when he was in that state, hearing the fragility in her voice, had stirred something deep within him. This something constantly weighed heavily on his shoulders.  
Vox watched her now, as she diligently worked through the pile of documents, the usual fire in her eyes dimmed. Seeing her like this was
it was
 
It was suffocating.  
His usual banter with her had turned more hostile as she no longer played along. Instead, she wore that fake-ass smile and adopted a facade of quiet servitude.  
He hated it.  
He missed her rebellious attitude, the way she’d throw it back in his face with a fire that matched his own. He missed the pride that would light up her eyes every time she dropped a report on his lap, waiting for his compliment.  
He even missed her barging into his office, unannounced and unafraid. 
Vox was at a loss. He didn’t know how to fix whatever had gone wrong between them. He longed for the days when they worked late into the night together, sometimes spending hours talking about the mundane details of their lives. 
In a misguided attempt to recapture that spark, he had enforced mandatory overtime on her, hoping it would bring back the connection he missed.  
Instead, it seemed to be backfiring spectacularly.  
A thud from his monitor drew his attention. She had dropped her forehead against her desk, looking utterly miserable. Should he go visit her? Offer some form of comfort, or perhaps discuss last week’s incident?  
No. That would be preposterous.  
She was only an employee – his personal assistant. Just an assistant with a contract expiring at the end of the year. A dime a dozen. Replaceable.  
Vox repeated these thoughts like a mantra, trying to convince himself. He had no more reason to visit her tonight, and it was clear she no longer desired his presence. Besides, he had given her the task of finishing the report on their new project. With one last look at her through the monitor that was a second too long, he decided to turn his attention to his task for tonight.  
He and his systems were due for an upgrade that would take up the rest of the evening. It was a convenient distraction from his mounting frustration, both with Val’s fifth temper tantrum earlier this afternoon and the odd tension between him and his assistant. 
Grabbing the wires, Vox began plugging in the corresponding cords. But he always forgot one thing: his TV-shaped head made it awkward to squeeze between tight spaces without turning it sideways. One thing led to another as he fought the tangled mess of wires that had somehow wound up around him.  
“Ah, fucking shit,” Vox muttered, carefully trying to untangle himself. He could brute-force his way out, but that would mean ripping apart the cords. These cords were custom ordered by his assistant to fit his needs. Destroying them felt almost wrong.  
With the grace of a fat cat tangled in yarn, he twisted his body, awkwardly pulling different parts of the wires off. But the more he struggled, the more the cords seemed to twist and wrap around him.  
“God-shit-fucking-dammit!” Vox cursed out loud as he continued to pull on the cords that seemed to constrict his body tighter. In a fit of rage, he pulled a particular part of the cord hard, and –  
Oh.  
He pulled the same wire again, and a small moan ripped away from his throat. The cord was wrapped around his hips, with a singular line pressed right between his balls and his cock.  
The unexpected sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through him, catching him off guard. His breath hitched, and he felt a mix of frustration and arousal. He pulled the wire again with purpose, feeling the pressure increasing in just the right spot.  
“Fuuuck,” he huffed as a shiver ran down his spine and another low moan escaped him. The thin line between his balls and cock tightened, the friction heightening his arousal. His claws gripped the wires, not to untangle them but to adjust them, seeking more of the unexpected pleasure.  
The cords pressed against his most sensitive areas, wrapping around him in an intimate embrace. He shifted his hips, the movement causing the wires to rub against him even more.  
It had been a while since he fucked Val, considering all the drama with his assistant and Val’s little whore situation killing Vox's libido. Panting, he pulled the wire taut, hissing as his balls stung from the sudden tension of being squeezed. Fuck, that fucking hurt, yet he wanted more. The pain intermingled with pleasure was a good distraction from the more complicated feelings that constantly buzzed inside his mind.  
He began to grind against the tangled cords, feeling his cock straining against his pants. The sweet sensation of pain and the heat that came from it was intoxicating. His breath echoed, bouncing off the wall of monitors watching him. His eyes drifted towards the monitor in the left corner, a small screen that was always trained on his assistant. He continued the repetitive motion of pleasuring himself.  
Fuck it.  
Considering all the bullshit he had had to deal with in the past few weeks, he deserved to get off on his terms. Vox let go of all his reservations and focused on just feeling good. His shirt had ridden up from the initial struggle with the tangled cords, and now the rough texture of the wire only served to increase his pleasure. The heat, the burn, the tightness around his balls – this was all he needed.  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered as he closed his eyes and increased the rhythm, grinding harder against the wires that encased his cock. His breaths turned into ragged moans. His mind emptied, except for the one person who took up more of his bandwidth than he would ever admit to. 
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You were prepared to rip out all your hair as you stared at the document, the words blurring into incomprehensible lines. You needed rest. This constant mandatory overtime bullshit was driving you up the wall. Sure, you had worked plenty of overtime in the past, but this time it was different.  
Back then, you knew your limits and toed around them. But right now, Vox had you pulling hours that were beyond ridiculous, and you weren’t sure if he was even aware that you were falling apart. 
You hated him. You hated your boss.  
Your feelings and the thoughts you constantly repeated in your mind clashed violently. He had been on edge lately, and him screaming at you to get out of his office last week was the final straw. For almost a decade, he had never complained about you entering his office unannounced, but now he did.  
You dropped your head against the desk with a quiet thud. You felt like a puppet, with Vox pulling the strings, and it was driving you to the brink of madness. This manacle, this Vwatch, weighed heavily on your wrist, a constant reminder of your contract.  
Why was he pushing you so hard? Why now? The questions swirled in your mind, adding to the frustration that quietly simmered beneath your chest. You needed answers, but more than that, you needed a break.  
You stared at the Vwatch, the small device that tethered your life to his. A bitter feeling rose from your gut, one that continued to fester despite your desperation to ignore it. Deep down, you had harboured a tiny, almost imperceptible crush on him. During those endless hours slaving away for VoxTek, you had entertained the thought of trying to
seduce him.  
The idea of being more than just boss and employee had danced through your mind enticingly. When Vox dropped the pretense of being the asshole boss, he was surprisingly sweet and funny. You stared at the edge of the desk, the same spot he would sometimes lean against when it was only the two of you after hours.  
He would casually discuss the latest stats of his company’s earnings before quickly moving on to the next subject of a more personal matter. He took interest in your life, your hobbies, and your plans for the weekend. In turn, you were invested in knowing more about him, too.  
Was it then that you started to like him more than a boss?  
But that fragile intrigue was swiftly crushed and ground beneath the heel of reality when you had caught Vox and his boyfriend, Valentino, locked in a heated embrace two years ago. The sight had stopped you cold, a sickening twist of jealousy and resignation coiling in your stomach. You had heard rumours that Vox was in a relationship with Valentino, but from the way Vox talked about his boyfriend, it seemed nothing more than a fleeting interest.  
But, seeing Vox, so often aloof and commanding, almost vulnerable in Valentino’s grasp woke you up from your delusions. This whole time, you thought Vox was interested in you. But you knew better now that you were replaceable, expendable, and were simply used for amusement to the cruel Overlord. 
All these late-night talks, the near kisses, the shy glances, they were all for his entertainment. After all, he was an Overlord of Hell. You shouldn’t expect him to have a shred of humanity, much less the capacity to love anyone more than himself.  
What was worse was that Vox’s boyfriend always threw a goddamn temper tantrum in the office. If you were unlucky enough to be in his path, he would shred you apart without a second thought.  
You had witnessed a horrific scene of one of your coworkers being shot in the face twenty times just for walking into Valentino’s path during one of his bitch fits. While Vox had never acted out in violence, at least not in front of you, he certainly could whine and complain as much as Valentino did. A forced smirk crept up your face.  
Honestly, those two were perfect for each other.  
Fatigue clawed at your muscles and numbed your mind, but you were able to acutely still feel the bitter sting of your unrequited feelings towards Vox. Standing up from your desk, you grabbed the report that had left you bewildered for the past hour.  
It was time to confront Vox – your boss, and demand clarity on this absurd “Angelic Security” project. The plan made no sense at all. It was as if the previous assistant had been on a drug-fuelled bender, scribbling a chaotic mess of numbers and letters with no rhyme or reason. Honestly, the document looked like a desperate attempt to pass off random gibberish as legitimate work.  
If your boss seriously expected you to transform this incoherent plan into something that actually made sense by tonight, he was in for a rude awakening. Your contract might have bound you to this job for a decade with the threat of losing your soul if you left early, but there was nothing in the clause about any repercussions if he were to dismiss you.  
The pay might be decent, but the torment of enduring these ungodly hours of mandatory overtime, coupled with the relentless ache of your unrequited feelings for Vox that waxed and waned for several years, was quickly overshadowing any benefit.  
Resolve thrumming hotly in your veins, though you knew this determination would likely dissipate with a good night’s rest, you marched toward his office – the very office you had been avoiding like the plague for the past week.  
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💠 MASTERLIST 💠 © Fanart of Vox by@glitterypeachy
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