#Medicine Packaging Boxes

[yakamozarda]

One thing that fucking pisses me off about people going against gender affirming surgeries is that. Not even every trans person wants them or can get them in the first place but not passing can cause a lot of problems with your daily life and paper work. Like if you really wanted less people to get surgeries etc you could just. Make it easier to trans people to exist without passing???? Ofc if someone wants the surgery it is their fucking choice but if these people who oppose the surgery really cared about people they would go another route

[egberts]

companies are delusional if they think consumers don't notice shrinkflation. less food in the package, less medicine in the jar, less whatever in the wherever, it doesn't matter where and it's almost always noticeable. like i just finished one box of medicine and we opened another allegedly identical one that we just bought and lo and behold, the four middle medicine segments were gone from the package. they took out four pills from the same sized box and sold it at the same price without any indication on the box other than the small number in the corner. ridiculous

[expandbuzz]

Gift box packaging design enhances presentation and anticipation, reflecting the giver's personality and the occasion's significance. It incorporates elements like vibrant colors, luxurious materials, and structural features to create a memorable and delightful experience for both giver and recipient.

[tonixe]

I dare you to do the darkest, dirtiest, most disturbing shit with Coriolanus peacekeeper

⤑ GRIM REAPER

A/N: I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE! UGHH, I love possessive coriolanus, he is so sexy when he has authority, man I love him.

WARNING: p in the v, non to dub-con, love bombing, gaslighting, fear, hitting, kidnapping, coercion, hair pulling, bondage, forced mudpie, oral sex (male receiving), jealousy, cum eating. *** coriolanus being possessive and obsessive.

PAIRING: Peacekeeper!coriolanus x district!reader

WORD COUNTER: 2.5k

Born into the district—born into a life of hardships and pain...you were luckily born to two parents, and though you weren't financially stable you managed to enjoy a happy with your family. You had 3 siblings you had to look after, and whenever your parents went off to work, life was stressful but every time you got to see their faces smiling you were also satisfied.

When you got older you got a part-time job, at the vendor selling food, it was owned by an old couple who graciously gave you the job, though it wasn't a lot of money you took to support your parents. They asked to take a shift that was deeper into the night, so you accepted the offer, needing the money. Holding yourself up at the cart, waiting as you called out for customers, feeling yourself getting tired as the second. Stretching your arms out, as you looked further into the night. The night there were more Peacekeepers out, inspecting the district, it slightly made you feel apprehensive at the armed men walking through the area.

Your eyes hesitantly look and watch their movements, brushing the dust off your aprons, fixing your hair as your hair stuck to your neck from the humid air. Hearing footsteps inching near you, as you looked up...you felt your heart dropping in automatic dread, at the blonde Peacekeeper in front of you. You cleared your throat before speaking up to him, "Could I interest you, Sir?" you asked, your voice quivering as you spoke just to keep a positive tone. You felt his eyes raking you. He nodded, "I'll have that" He pointed, as you nodded. His eyes looked at you as you wrapped it up, "Have I seen you before?" He questioned, you looked up at him, "I don't think so..." You smiled at him, as you quickly boxed it up. "Enjoy, Sir" You put your hand out gesturing for him to take the box, "Thank you," He said, taking the box from your hand, and you felt his rough hands against yours.

You watched as he took his leave...you finally got to breathe, releasing the pending oxygen in your lungs and exhaling through your nose.

From the simple exchange, Coriolanus found himself visiting you at your vendor stall. Though, your introverted nature, you reluctantly started talking to him. You told him little things about your life, but he was smart enough to connect the puzzle pieces that you told him and connect it back to your life. He found your coquettish antics cute...and after your shifts you found yourself spending time with him, and often the districts were hot and humid, spending time by the lakes.

His sky-blue eyes took the appearance of your disheveled form, but he found you still captivating—from your dress strap falling to your shoulder and your light dress sticking against your wet skin. He wanted to take a picture of you to save the memory...but Time after time, he found himself getting slowly addicted to you...his visits got frequent, and he would deliver little gifts or care packages to you such as medicine, food, or water. You were grateful for him doing this, but you didn't want to feel like a burden to him, at first you were hesitant to take the gifts but he would ensure that it was a gift for you.

You didn't think about the kind gestures he would do for you, but you would always thank him for what he did. Soon, his obsession with you was like a disease, it kept on spreading and spreading over time, every time he closed his eyes, it would be just you, even when he worked on his daily tasks, his mind would be infected with pictures of you. He would always prefer to be stationed somewhere near you, he would be observing you as you worked, he hated when you talked to other men that weren't him, and his obsession with you was unhealthy, It felt like he couldn't last a day without or seeing you, sometime he would show up unannounced with a bouquet of roses in his hands surprising you.

The first time it was a nice gesture, and you loved it but it started again and again, his presence was almost suffocating to you, and when he asked you the question, you felt fear of saying no to him. But you knew if you were to say 'yes' it would get worse, so you told him to give you some time to think about it, he nodded but you knew he was displeased.

You had a plan to just run away, but you knew sooner or later he would catch you, you shivered at the thought. Knowing that your family would be harmed in the invasion, your ear perked at the sound of the door, you dragged your feet to the door, opening it up. It was him, a bouquet of roses in his hands, his Arctic blue eyes staring at you. It was haunting, he cleared his throat before talking, "So..have you made your decision?" every word he said made your heart pump faster, your flight response ringing alarms through your body to run.

"Coriolanus..um" you stopped mid-way, looking at him in his eyes, "I do thank you for what you do for me, but—I barely know you, and I don't think we would..be good together" you finished your sentence, feeling an eerily feeling in your gut, "Why" that all he said, you looked again at him. It looked like a shadow was cast, his bright sky blue eyes that he looked at you with, were darkening as he spoke.

"For all I do for you, you choose to deny me" The volume of his voice increases, and you force yourself to look at him as he yells at you, he laughs for a short while, before grabbing your jaw, "I protected you, I have done everything for you" you eyes watered from his grip, "I think you should leave, Corio" you whispered, it felt like whip when you used his nickname in that sentence, he released your jaw. His hand was in your hair down, pulling you down, as you felt tears threatening to be produced, his rough hands pulling on your hair, making your scalp hurt, "Corio..please!" You exclaimed, he started to say something else, every word uttering from his word was like venom to an open wound. He threw down the bouquet of roses onto the floor

Your knee felt weak as you fell down onto the floor, hearing his footsteps receding, and the sound door being slammed closed. Tears dripping down from your cheek, the bouquet of roses on the floor, as the petals were scattered on the floor, it was some sick remember of Coriolanus. Days passed, and you saw roses on your doormat, every day it would happen, and you felt fear looming over you.

Every time the color would change from pink to a deep red, they varied every day.

But you went back to your job, selling at the stand to the deep of night, noticing the tie, you quickly packed the cart up for tomorrow and rolled it back to where the old couple resided. You sang to yourself as the wheels of the cart rolled against the broken concrete before you knew it, you felt a hand wrapping your torso, and something else like cloth suffocating you, you tried to scream, but it went deaf in your throat, succumbing to the cloth as you closed your eyes, fainting into the strangers hands.

Your eyes fluttered open, as your eyes wandered around your surroundings. You felt your legs numb, as you tried to stand up, but couldn't, looking down at yourself, rope wrapped around your body. You tried not to move from the friction of the rope hurting you.

Your ears perked at the sound of footsteps,. "Your finally awake, my dove" He walked towards you, taking a knee when he got a good look at you. His fingers caressed your cheek, "We were meant for each other, Y/N" He whispered, you started shaking when his hands lowered, and you turned yourself away from him before he withdrew from him. Before he grabbed you by your jaw, forcing you to look at him, "Do I scare you, am I that ugly that you don't want to love me, Y/N" You shook your head immediately, "Then why.." He growled, and you felt tears on your cheeks, "Don't try to use your crocodile tears on me, Y/N" He glared at you.

You looked away from him, as you sniffled, "Fuck, you don't know what you do to me.." he traveled his finger over your lip, parting it, as you stared at him. Before he kissed you, his tongue forcing itself into your mouth, you felt yourself crying more, as you bit down on his tongue. He withdrew from you, the trail of blood on his lips. His haunting chuckle echo in your ear, "You fucking bitch" He held his jaw. He stood up from the floor, looking away from him.

You heard the sound of belt jingling, your eyes widening at the sight, of his cock in his hand, "Corio, no..please' you begged, your felt yourself crying more, his footsteps inching near you, he slapped his cock on your cheek, it was degrading. "Open," He said, and you felt your lips trembling at the size, "N-no" you whispered, and he repeated himself again, you turned away before he pried your lips open and forced himself into your mouth, making you gag. His hands were in your hair, as he dragged you against his cock, fucking into your mouth. Salvia dripping down from your chin, his groans ringing out in your ears.

"Fuck, you're doing so good, sweetheart" He looked down at you, as your tears filled your vision, he smirked looking at your vulnerable form, before he thrust himself into you. You felt his hot load going down your throat, "Swallow" He said, and you obeyed, The bitter taste coating your mouth, his hands caressing your cheek, "Good girl" he smiled at you. Before he released your jaw, your eyes looked down at the floor, before you heard him tucking himself into his pants.

Days passed,

He treated you with kindness, gifting you a rose, and caressing your back as you lay on his lap, but you managed to convince him to remove the rope around your body. He would braid your hair, comb it, and treat you like a doll. It kept on happening, you started worrying about your family if they were currently looking for you. "Coriolanus, can I visit my family, please" He stopped combing your hair, and he down at you, "Do you deserve it?" He asked, "Please" you begged, sitting up as you looked at him. He breathed out, looking away from you.

"I deserve it, you kidnapped me against my own will!" You stood and yelled, he just glared at you, as he stood up. His height towering over you, "You don't need them at all, I..can give you what you need. you don't need them" He yelled at you, grabbing your shoulder as he forced you to look up at him. "No, I never asked for you to do anything, you came up to me. You did this just to do it, Coriolanus" You yelled at him, finally using his full name instead of the nickname you gave me, you felt your cheek throbbing, his hand harshly hitting you, before he grabbed you by your shirt, "I will fucking kill you and your family if you leave me, Y/N..do you hear me" He lowered his voice, you were shaking. His eyes softened at you crying, before he held you not a hug and you held him, his hands rubbing your back, soothing you.

"Just not now, Y/N.." He whispered and kissed your forehead, you felt sick to your stomach. The next day, he apologized to you, and you were forced to accept, he covered you with kisses and love, and gifted roses.

A month passed still being caged by Coriolanus, but you got some freedom from him, but you weren't allowed to leave a tall. he had surveillance on you. He always reminds you that he loved you, did kind things with you, and surprised you with flowers like he always did. Red roses everywhere,

You stared at the window, it was fairly getting dark, and no signs of Coriolanus coming back. You wanted to escape but knowing the consequence would be horrible if you committed the act, before you heard stomping from the door, your eyes looking at the furious Coriolanus in front of you. "How many men, have you slept with Y/N" You got up from your feet, looking at him incredulously, "What are you talking about?" before you felt a sting on your cheek, "Don't play dumb with me" He yelled at you, "How many" He repeated himself, "I —none, I didn't do anything, Coriolanus" you sniffled, before he took a fist of your hair, pulling you towards him, "Don't fucking lie to me, Y/N" He growled, "I'm not lying, please" He hit you a second time, this time it was worse, feeling your nose bleeding from the impact. He started dragging you to the bedroom, where he forced you to sleep, throwing you onto the mattress of the bed, you heard him taking off his belt, forcefully tying up your hands above you.

"Coriolanus, please' you screamed, kicking your legs everywhere, "Please-please, stop" you cried as he got on top of you, taking off your pants and panties in the same quick motion. Aligning himself against, before you felt himself inside of you, it was painful, horrible. He moaned against you, as he forced himself into you and out, thrusting his hips against yours, you screamed at him, hitting him on his biceps to stop.

Your screams were deaf to his ears, as he fucked himself into you, his cock tearing everything inside of you, "Please" you heaved, hitting him, his sky-blue eyes staring at you. Time passed slowly, purposely you felt, before he cummed inside of you, you screamed for him to stop and pull out but he didn't. You lay there motionless, dried tears on your cheeks and naked in front of him, "Don't touch me" you cried, flipping to the side away from him. He called your name again, but you ignored him, holding yourself, you rolled yourself into a ball and cried to yourself until you fell asleep.

When you woke up,, you didn't see Coriolanus, you looked at yourself, your bottom still exposed, a reminder of at the ordeal that happened yesterday. You stood up, putting back your underwear and your pants, before walking out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes still tired. There was something on the table, as you walked, it was a bouquet of fresh roses and a note attached to it with his handwriting.

You covered your mouth, and you fell to your knee and cried to yourself, knowing that he wouldn't let you go...the roses he gifted you are just a reminder of his torment.

[mrsarnold]

can u pretty pls write smt about paige being sick (maybe a lil delirious bcs of a fever/meds) and reader make paige a care package.

alsoo i absolutely love your layout 🤭

— sick day ✩ paige b.

syn : paige is sick delirious

pair : sick!paige bueckers x gf!reader

warn : fluff, paige being dramatic as shit, reader is in the medical school

note : glad you like my layout :)))

early tag : @kamii-2 @hrtslaces

"BABYYYY i think im dying come hereee", You heard Paige whine for the fifth time in 10 minutes. Paige got sick from going to a concert you told her not to go to but she didn't listen. You practically ran to here annoyed, "what now??" She looked up at you sniffing. Her eyes were red from crying, her nose was stuffy and red.

"You should know!! your the one in medical school", she said throwing a empty tissue box. You hated when Paige was dramatic like this, you just rolled your eyes. you grabbed a medicine cup and poured cherry medicine in it.

once paige figured out what flavor she pushed the cup away, "ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?? cherry is nasty and yk i hate it." you rolled your eyes, you decided to make a plan on making her take the medicine.

when she wasnt looking you grabbed her some juice, before pouring it you put the medicine in the cup. you poured her orange juice and brought the cup to her. "Did you poison this too?", she asked checking the cup out.

you rolled your eyes in annoyance. "No baby your delirious just drink it", you said a smirk creeping on your face. She drunk it, her face grimacing. she pouted realizing what you did.

"YOU DID POISON IT", she said pouting on the couch. you giggled at her expression making her turn on her side on the couch. "it was the only way for you to drink it silly", you said inbetween giggles.

"your not funny leave me alone", she said pouting on the couch. you shrugged taking this as a break so you walked away to yall room. before you could even step into the room you heard the most irritating yell.

"BABYYY COME BACK MY HEAD HURTSSSS", she yelled making you groan in annoyance.

[ NEXT DAY ]

"fuck you, you got me sick", you cursed at paige making her laugh. "Now i can play doctor!!"

taglist :

@3xoticyanna @hrtsfromjules @chelisbae @aaliyg @star-girl69 @patscorner @cosmopretty @wbbgetsmewetter

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Prompts 8 and 14 with Poly lost boys? (If not Poly, I’ll be good with any of them-)

8. Quiet, she has just fallen asleep!

14. Are you alright?

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you like this!💜

------------------------------------

The house was quiet. Maria had gone off to work at the videostore, and Shelly had gone out to meet with her boyfriend Greg. Normally, I would have put some music on, doing some chores or making some art now that they were gone. But not today. I woke up feeling off. I had hoped that after some breakfast and some coffee, it would be over, but alas, it only got worse. So that's why I found myself lying on the couch, with the remote control of the telly in my hand. I still hadn't put it on, knowing that the sound - no matter how soft it could be - would only worsen the headache I had.

I closed my eyes as I felt another pang of pain flashing through my head. The headache had been there all day, but now it was slowly but surely turning into a splitting headache. I knew I couldn't ignore it any longer and made my way to the kitchen. Somewhere, in one of the cabinets, I was certain I'd have a package with aspirin. I sighed as I entered the kitchen, seeing the dirty dishes piling out of the sink. The remains of our lunch were lying on the kitchen island. It was a mess. Normally, I wouldn't mind cleaning it up, but now, the thought alone made me want to cry. God, I felt sick.

I opened the cupboard, realising that the package I had had been used up by my housemates. The only thing left of it was the empty box. I sighed as I threw it in the bin, deciding that I'd have to go to the drugstore. I got dressed in some comfortable yet more appropriate clothing - I didn't want to go outside in my pyjamas - and put my shoes on. After locating my keys on the dining room table, I headed outside - only to return to put a jacket on. It was surprisingly cold outside.

As I walked down the street, I was a little relieved to realise that the sun was setting already. It meant that my boyfriends would be going to the boardwalk soon. As much as the idea of being in a brightly lit, loud space didn't appeal to me, the idea of being with them and near them did.

The door to the drugstore opened with a soft tinkle as I pushed it open, the bell above the door signalling my presence. It was quiet inside, the only other customer an old lady. I greeted her quietly before searching the aisles for what I needed. I didn't pay attention when I heard the bell ring, nor did I pay attention to the space around me. So, when I found the brand I needed, and made a move to grab it, I bumped into someone.

"Oh my god, I'm so-"

"Shit, you look like shit babe!" I looked up and saw that I had bumped into Marko. I gave him a watery smile.

"I kind of feel like it, I think it hay-fever or something."

Marko nodded, his hand resting on my forehead to check my temperature. "I think it's a bit more than that."

"Fever?"

"Yeah, a bit. Come on," he took the medicine I wanted and walked towards the checkout. "You're staying with us tonight."

"Weren't you going to the boardwalk?"

"You're more important. Santa Carla won't forget who owns the place if we don't show up one night."

I nodded, taking a deep breath. It was suddenly really warm inside. "What were you doing here?"

"Paul's been complaining about a lack of liquorice in the cave."

"He really likes that stuff?"

"Apparently. We can't all be perfect," he paid for the liquorice and the aspirin, also asking for a bottle of water. He grabbed our stuff, opening the door for me. Once we were outside, I stopped walking for a moment, taking some deep breaths.

"Are you alright?"

I shook my head slightly. " 'm feeling a little faint."

"Go and sit down, alright?" He handed me the bottle of water and the aspirin. "Have you eaten today?"

I shrugged as I took a sip. "Wasn't hungry."

"You actually got the liquorice!" I looked up as I saw Paul appearing out of thin air in front of me. "And you got our gir- Jesus, you look like shit."

I nodded, feeling a little less faint than before. I heard the loud rumble of motorcycles, and I knew that Dwayne and David were also here now. I looked up, smiling tiredly as David walked towards me.

"Hey."

"Hey darlin'," he helped me stand up, looking me over as I did. I felt myself tremble a little. Maybe Marko was right, and this was more than allergies. "Let's get you home. Do you think you can hold on?"

I nodded, climbing on the back of his bike, and holding on to him tightly.

"We need some food, see if there's a store open so you can get her some fruit and bread and such."

"Sure thing. Is there anything you'd like?" Paul looked at me, and I shook my head. He nodded, kissing me softly on my forehead before driving off. Marko handed Dwayne the stuff we'd just bought, saying he'd be home shortly. He had to feed. Dwayne drove next to us, both David and him driving slower than usual. I was glad they did, mainly because their usual driving style was close to nauseating. Besides, with them driving slower, the chances of me gliding off were slimmer. I closed my eyes for a bit, a sudden tiredness overwhelming me.

"Don't fall asleep, love."

" 'm not." I mumbled, holding on a little tighter.

"We're almost home, then you can sleep all you want."

Dwayne was true to his word. Less than five minutes later, we stopped at the edge of the cliff leading towards the cave. Without a word, Dwayne lifted me up, carrying me in his arms down the stairs and into the lobby of the sunken hotel.

"Couch or bed?"

"Couch," I said softly, trying to stiffle a yawn, "Don't want to be alone."

"Alright, love."

He carefully laid me down on the couch, taking some pillows from Star's bed to make sure I was comfortable. David brought me the blanket I normally used while staying here, a thick and soft fabric covering the whole thing. I mumbled a soft thank you.

"How long have you been feeling sick?" David asked, crouching down next to me, brushing some hair out of my face.

"Since this morning."

"It's probably just a cold or a flu. Is the aspirin helping?"

"A little, I guess?"

He gave me a soft smile, getting up. I closed my eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness before sleep finally came.

I don't know how much time passed before I woke up, but when I did, I could hear an annoyed Dwayne hiss something at Paul and Marko.

"Quiet, she has just fallen asleep!"

"Ah shit, sorry, babe!" Paul whisper yelled at me, causing me to sleepily open my eyes.

" 's okay," I nodded, looking at them.

"I know you said you didn't want anything from the store, but I also brought you some cookies and chocolate."

I smiled tiredly, wincing as I felt my headache return. "Thank you, hon."

"If you're not feeling better tomorrow, we could give you some blood to speed up the healing process?" Marko offered. I bit my lip, not knowing whether I'd like that or not. I did feel sick, but to drink blood? "Just think about it, alright?"

"Yeah."

He smiled before looking outside. The sky was turning a bright red. He went to the back of the cave, climbing through the liftshaft. Dwayne and Paul followed. I pulled my blanket closer against me, curling up, when I felt a pair of arms lifting me up.

"Hm?"

"We're staying with you today, sweetheart."

" 's nice," I mumbled sleepily, already dosing off as he brought me to the bedroom. I was asleep before I even hit the pillow, my boys surrounding me, making sure I'd be okay.

[wroteclassicaly]

Warnings: Language, menstrual cycle, mentions anxiety, emotions, blood, cramps, hurt/comfort, Nancy makes an adorable appearance, and lots of fluff!

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

He isn’t sure how much time has passed, because everything seems so chaotically still. But your trembling, sobbing presence declares otherwise. It started earlier, with a clasped hand to your stomach, pushing your favorite pizza away in disgust. That space between your eyebrows screwed up in pain, and you’d left the table without another word. You should’ve planned on bringing things with you, I mean, hell, you always write your cycles down on Eddie’s Bible quote calendar anyways.

Neither of you were prepared for it to happen today, during the late evening hours, despite its looming date getting closer on Eddie’s wall display. You beelined it for your pad stash that the Munson’s so graciously permitted you your own drawer for in their small bathroom, only to find you had one singular sanitary pad, and a whole lotta mess on your hands. It was unexpectedly heavy, and it really fucking hurt, which didn’t usually occur until the next day. You called for your boyfriend and he immediately found you, head in your hands, on his toilet, thighs streaked in bright crimson, switching from holding your temples to angrily scrubbing at your eyes. Things with your cycle were never awkward with Eddie, not after getting used to it.

He simply knelt down, chain slapping against his pants, house slippers on his feet, taking your hands in his as he asked one question. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

~*~

Eddie rocks you back and forth, rubbing down your spine as you cry. As dusk turned into nightfall, summer storms beginning, battering the trailer with their high winds, your pain increased to the point where he’d considered calling for help. Midol worked for one hour and barely took the edge off, his hand couldn’t do the trick, you felt too bad to attempt an orgasm, and you are shaking with pleading sobs. He does all that he knows to calm you down, a slow ticking beneath his vocal cords, his throat warming as he begins to softly sing to you, cross-legged, you in his lap, arms tucked beneath his pits and draped around his lower back, his own continuously stroking you, not ceasing his back and forth movements. He ignores the tears in his own eyes as you cry out and squirm.

And that’s what you do. You cry yourself into a numbing sleep. That’s when Eddie lays you down and immediately dials up Wheeler, having to answer questions about what milligrams your pain meds are and if you are out of pads and tampons. Despite the rain, she is there with several bags not even twenty minutes later. She puts the chocolate and various salty snacks away with his assistance, hands him a new bottle of Midol, also laying out a new box of tampons and a smaller package of sanitary pads, before she is explaining how your medicine has a higher dosage, and ultimately helps him figure out the hot water bottle.

How Eddie Munson, of all people (she knows better after all these years than to judge a book by its cover) takes care of her best-friend, it makes her giddy, relieved.

“Each girl varies, but this stuff should help. I know her periods get a little rough sometimes. If she needs anything, have her call me or you can call me back, okay?”

“I definitely owe you one, Nance.” As he switches off from the usage of Wheeler, she’s folding the paper sack, grinning widely.

Definitely a teddy bear.

Once she’s safely in her station wagon and leaving his drive, Eddie automatically prepares your hot water bottle, grabs fresh ice water, your new pills bottle, and a few snacks, tucking the bottle beneath his armpit. He settles everything in a neat place on his nightstand, thankful you’re still asleep, but seeing your face still scrunched in agony. He gently lays the bottle beneath your navel, pulling his blanket over your form, leaving you only to wet a washcloth and wipe away the sweat that’s built on your forehead. He does that for a little while, changes your bottle in and out, right up until he sees that frown vanish and you curl into his side. He’s working a poem he plans on turning into lyrics when you stir.

It’s still raining steadily, scattering a beat that he can sample upon the tin roof. You stretch out like a cat, yawning, eyes blinking slowly as you take the room and your boyfriend into focus. You mumble about the time, grasping at the bottle on your belly. When Eddie comes into full view, he’s got one leg propped, the other flat, his notebook balanced on his raised knee, his shirt off, rings gone, with just his pick and boxers remaining. He looks relieved at your lazy grin.

Still, though, he has to check in. “Do I need to go reheat it, baby? I’ve been doing it off and on since Nance dropped it off.”

Nancy was here? He called her Nance? And your cramps are gone. There’s so much to smile about that you become overwhelmed, especially with your ability to focus again beyond mind numbing anxiety, and anguish. Your sclera is flooded with tears and Eddie instinctively freaks out, sliding from the bed. “I’ve got new Midol here, there’s pads and tampons, some snacks, still leftover pizza, and I can fix you right up, sweet—“

You’re kissing the remaining letters of the nickname right off of his mouth. Your hands press into his curls, dragging them through your fingers, enjoying how their soft-silky texture tickles your knuckles. He wraps his arms around your back, letting a palm dig into your tailbone. You mewl appreciatively. Eddie uses a calloused thumb to swipe away your tears on the wet break away, on the verge of losing it at the relief of your relaxed state - himself.

And you, you’re looking at him as if he’s hung the moon for you. No one has to say anything, you both already know.

However, Mother Nature captivates your tongue and takes a hold of your desires. You let one hand drift and gently play with his chain, and he’s unable to deny how he’s practically purring in your grasp. “Eddie?”

“Yeah….?” He’s dazed and grinning like a goofy idiot.

“I’m hungry. Oh, and I love you!”

[chosos-mascara]

a piece of advice

𝙮𝙪𝙪𝙩𝙖 𝙤𝙠𝙠𝙤𝙩𝙨𝙪 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - after you offer condom advice to yuta, you put forward a second suggestion.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - condom + lube use, fem reader, soft sex, yuta has a big p

2.6k words

Yuuta wasn't a virgin. In the midst of his twenties, he'd had enough encounters and experiences, times in which protection had been of course used, though provided for him. There was one thing on his list of sexual endeavors that he hadn't done, and that had been purchasing his own condoms. 

With that in mind, he'd been standing with basket in hand, pacing the medicine isle within his local supermarket - an embarrassing buy he'd felt inclined to make. Toge had been encouraging him into the dating scene after strings of one night stands and situation-ships, a promise of setting the raven haired male up with his cute friend. There was only one hurdle until his scheduled date, and that had been within one of many boxes before him. He needed to prepare. 

One step over the other, an antsy stumble as an uncomfortable sheen of sweat coated his body. Yuuta sighed when looking up to the shelves, eyeing options and colourful packages decorated in awkward phrases; for her, ribbed for pleasure... the list continues. Each helpless reach toward a decision had been disrupted almost as soon as his clammy hand would lift, a person edging too close to the isle he'd been panicking within A swift withdraw and turn to opposing direction would be the result of his anxiety, and Yuuta would be left back at square one. 

Through this routine, Yuuta's stresses focused elsewhere, he hadn't noticed a recurring face passing every few minutes, the same pair of eyes watching as his brow furrowed over, as his fingers grazed shiny cardboard and gaze locked onto one package. 

At first, you'd watched the stranger through morbid curiosity; an attractive guy around your age looking at condoms? It had been that of human nature that had driven you to watch him make a decision, to fantasise over his fingers as he'd roll it over himself, positioning his ache to soothe yours. 

Would he buy ribbed, or focus on her pleasure? Or, with his anxious nature, you'd guess there'd be a chance he'd go for extra safe. When watching him finally reach out, you'd clenched your thighs in anticipation, a giddiness within you to witness his choice first hand, anticipation pooling with arousal within the pit of your stomach as his fingers had almost wrapped around a box - though he'd ripped them away much faster when another stranger had turned the corner. His black head of hair had blurred as he span into the other direction, raised arm flying to the back of his neck as his fingers scratched at the skin nervously. 

It had been the fourth failure that had finally driven you to take a step forward - to put him out of his misery and allow the situation to rest. At first, he'd watched your movements from the corner of his eye, though as you'd grown closer to his personal space than previous strangers had, he'd cautiously met your eye. The nervous look painted on his face had accompanied a thick swallow and sheepish smile as he stepped backward, hoping you'd simply pass by. 

"Are they for your girlfriend?" The question had been spoken with confidence as you'd turned to him, an arm crossing the other as he tensed up, forced smile dropping to a frown.  "W-what?" He'd stuttered in shock as he followed your raised finger with hesitancy. You had in fact pointing toward the rows of condom boxes shelved before him. "Well, there's a lot of choices, aren't there?" You'd spoken with ease, a light hearted tone to soothe his worries. "Have you used one before?"  The male's face relaxed with your friendly demeanour, though it had felt as if the ground was swallowing him whole. 

"Uh," He cleared his throat, hand returning to the back of his neck once again, meeting the spot you'd watched him rub raw over the course of his endeavour. "I've used them before - just never bought them." The statement had ended in a raise of your brow, and a churn in the pit of his stomach.  "Hm, can I offer advice?" You gestured toward the more elaborate forms of protection; ribbed, thin, dotted and heated. "You don't need things like this. If you care about her pleasure, just learn where the clitoris is." Your finger moved, pointing at flavoured condoms with a frown. "Personally, I don't get the appeal, unless you're planning on only having oral." 

Yuuta swallowed back a thick lump within his throat at that statement. 

Finally, you placed a palm over box, fingers wrapping around edges and lifting package out, facing it toward the attractive stranger. His dark blue eyes drifted over the writing, body slouched.  "These are fine for your first buy. They're standard, lubricated, and safe." You pushed the pack toward him, and finally, he held it between his fingers. He glossed over the back before clearing his throat and glancing back to the array of condoms before him, stray orbs finally slowing over bigger sizes, pointing toward a black box with gold writing, large written clearly on the front. 

"I think these might be better - they're normal too, right?" A pink tint had tickled his skin as he spoke, the smile over your face causing his breathing to pick up a pace, heart racing. You hadn't meant to let the giggle pass your lips, but it had, and Yuuta had appeared all the more uncomfortable.  "Size doesn't matter, you know? The normal ones will do fine." You'd tried to reassure him, though he'd opened his mouth, a quiet stuttering before he'd fought back.  "I don't think they'll fit." 

"Uh," Now, it had been your turn to shift uncomfortably, fingers finding the hem of jumper before contemplating your next question, and the appropriateness of asking a complete stranger for their dick size in the middle of your local supermarket. You'd wondered how to approach the inquiry, instead opting to take the box back from his grasp, fingers ghosting his. "It says on the back that they're 7 inches long. You should be okay."

Yuuta stirred, a dry cough pushed through throat as heat rose his body. What had already been an extremely embarrassing interaction had somehow grown worse as his brain had buffered, lips unmoving. When he'd watched the pretty girl pass his isle, he'd felt slightly uneasy; but when she had in fact stopped to approach him with advice he'd felt a thousand times more humiliated. And now, having you insist on a condomsize he'd known wouldn't fit both girth and size he'd endowed had left him with two options: the first had been to blindly accept the recommendation and buy the incorrect size, or the second; to tell you he'd been above average. 

For whatever reason, he'd decided on the second. 

"Well-" He'd stammered, before specifying. "I'm eight and a half." Yuuta hadn't been aware that his protest had caused your thighs to clench, tight muscles causing friction as a startled hum left your lips. You hadn't been entirely sure if the outward sound had been that of pleasure or surprise. 

"Oh." A short response to voice your surprise and detract from the small sound you'd made a few seconds before had been the only thing you could muster, mostly relishing in awkwardness.  

In reality, the honesty he'd spoken had only led you to feel more attracted to him. His relaxed outfit and pretty hair had been the first thing to catch your eye, and then a cute face - but now, you'd felt your little crush morph into desire, a need to have him between your legs to help fill an ache he hadn't known existed.

The black box had been dropped into his basket, a readjustment of the other items to retain some modesty as he'd finished his shopping. You'd smiled as he thanked you for the help, and watched him walk to the other end of the store while you'd taken your, in comparison, sparse basket to the tills, paying up and leaving.

When outside, bag over arm, you'd contemplated two options. You had felt desperation to speak with him once more and to get his number in your phone, or maybe it had been to have his face between your thighs. In thought, you slumped back to the store's outer wall, a sigh leaving chest. Were you really going to embarrass yourself like this? To ask a man you were almost sure had been in some sort of relationship considering his purchase history - would you milk the slim chance of him being single?

Minutes had passed, and with time, rational thought had taken hold of you, gripping each shoulder to scream into your face. What were you doing out here? 

Pushing from the brick, shaking head, you took a step forward to make your way back home - most likely involving an evening of yourself and vibrator. Only, two steps forward with your head down had you close to lunging into another person - him. 

"Are you following me?" He had asked with small smile, another scratch to the back of his neck. Your expression of shock had seemingly concerned the raven haired male, his forced laughter dying out as he placed his hands into his pockets, a white plastic bag hanging from wrist. 

"Do you have a girlfriend?" The contents of his bag had been all you'd needed to spark the question, and he'd been goggling awkwardly once more.  "No - why?" The awkward laughter had returned at the end of his sentence, eyes trailing from yours to instead ghost over the pavement at your feet. 

"I-" You cleared your throat. "You were buying condoms, so I thought..." Trailing off, you'd mentally cursed yourself for the situation at hand.  "A friend of mine wanted to set me up with someone he knew." The stranger's explanation had been realistically unneeded, though you'd appreciated his specification - enough to prompt further questioning.  "So - do you have anyone to use those condoms with?" 

His gaze left the pavement and met yours before he'd replied.  "No." 

"Want me to help you with that?"

Yuuta followed you into your bedroom, white shopping bag still over hand as you turned to face him. The accessory was cute, but had served as a reminder of both his awkwardness and the fact you'd let a stranger into your home with only the promise of sex. 

You'd stepped forward, closing the gap between each of you with your palms first, laying them flat over his cheeks. In this light, you could see the true grey of his eyes, soft and harsh tones making up his vision. He looked at you through both nervousness and curiosity before your slow movement forward had connected your lips in his, a drawn out kiss to test the waters. 

His hands had immediately came to press over the small of your back, bringing you closer while displaying the largeness of his palms. His grasp had taken more space than than other men's had, while somehow much gentler, calmer. He'd been a good kisser too, locking of lips molding perfectly to your own, and when introducing a swipe of tongue, he'd responded with a slide over yours. He felt good, a divine play between each of you as he moved with you, a gentle push toward the bed before you'd laid on your back, his grasp over your hips and the bag landing beside. 

Yuuta pulled back first, hands sliding upward to lift your shirt and graze smooth skin beneath, scaling the length of stomach before pulling cotton over your head. You giggled, a warmth on your face as he dug through the bag beside you, retrieving the box needed before tossing the white plastic to one side. The oversized hoodie he'd been dressed within had soon been thrown to the floor beside your garment, and through languid movements and kisses, the remainder of garments had been discarded. 

"Do you have lube?" Yuuta's voice was low, mouth against neck as he'd asked. At first, your response had simply been a hum in appreciation to the vibrations against your skin, teeth over lip to suppress a louder sound, though when he'd drawn back entirely you'd been left to process the question. A quick glance toward your bedside table had been enough, Yuuta's vascular forearm reaching over to pull the top drawer, a small bottle with a pump pulled from the mess. 

The black box had been opened, a condom retrieved by long fingers, the foil resting between teeth as he tore it open. You'd giggled and he'd looked toward you in sheepishness, the small smile you'd seen throughout your limited time with him returning.  "Do you do that for all the girls?" Your question had caused his eyes to roll, his smile and laughter answer enough before an apology. But, you'd reassured him.  "Don't apologize, it was hot."

He pulled rubber downward, shaft covered in the thin layer before he'd pumped a few globs of the thick substance over two fingers, a draw over slit to make your back arch. Yuuta watched your expression soften when he'd inserted them, slow pumps and heavy breaths. When he'd added a third, you'd shifted and he'd paused, but your hand moving to envelop his wrist and pull it toward you had caused him to continue, the care in his actions making for an easier experience. 

When he'd finally pushed the head of himself inside your walls, he'd groaned, a relief to ache he'd felt within himself when using only his fingers. He pushed in further, your tightness hugging him while you'd moaned beneath, arms lowering to allow himself closer to you, chest to chest.  "This okay?" He'd whispered gently and you'd nodded, eyes half lidded watching as he moved again, hips plush to your spread thighs before he'd draw himself back. Lips agape, moans passed through involuntarily, the stretch of his cock buried deep within you and his skin brushing yours to share warmth intoxicating. Your legs had moved from the loose spread position to instead wrap themselves around his torso. 

Yuuta groaned softly, finally pressing his mouth to yours after watching your expression contort beneath him with each thrust. A whimper against his skin, he'd rocked himself closer to release, your walls fluttering over the length he'd endowed to milk his length into the latex cover. Part of you had wished you'd taken him bare, envisioning his release as you'd taken his load, though instead he'd groaned and stuttered to climax within bounds of protection. 

Yuta's forehead had pressed against your own, fingers clutching the pillow behind your head in one hand and your thigh in another, squeezing over both cotton cover and the thick of skin as he allowed himself to experience his euphoria. He'd pushed himself furthest into you while coming undone, your walls squeezing him as he fizzled back into the bedroom around him. 

When he'd finished, the latex taken to the small trash can within your bathroom. When you'd returned from a quick shower he'd been propped against the headboard of your bed, clothed and phone in hand. 

"You're still here?" You laughed, damp towel hung over the white bedroom door as you'd made your way back into your room. His sight had lifted from his phone as he'd stood, smile over face.  "I was thinking we could go and get dinner?" The request had caught you off guard, heart skipping a beat when your eyes had scanned his. He'd have to let Toge know he wouldn't be meeting his friend, after-all. 

[lycheedr3ams]

Uhm.

(I feel like an addict crawling to you to get her fix)

I was just wondering 👉👈 if you could, uh, sometime when you want, IF you want, tell us how would emotionally unavailable König react to our poor sniper babe asking if they could do it without a condom? Or if she asks if they could kiss...? (I'm melting)

Perhaps she's at a breaking point or something, just wants to feel him even if just this once? What would happen...?

I love those drabbles you did so, so much. They have a special place in my heart and I cherish them so, whoo I can't even explain. Much love to you 🩷🩷🩷 and please feel free to just ignore this ask if it's not your cup of tea!

i love this ask! it challenges me and i love it. i also love this plotline i've made and i want to expand on it

this is going to be a mini-series, so i'm gonna make a proper title and masterlist soon

TW: NSFW, smut, mentions of self-hate, just sad overall, angst, maybe some comfort at the end?

part 3 of Relapse

you'd lost count of how many times you and könig gave yourselves to each other. it didn't matter that he always guarded the sweetest parts of himself from you, hiding his lips behind that hood and his cock within the condom. he gave you as much of himself as he was able, and you thought you'd never find the courage to ask for more. how could you ask more from the man who already gave you so much?

despite könig's best attempts at a detached façade when everything he was laid bare before you, you knew that he willingly gave you the parts of himself that he had never given to anyone else before, parts of himself that he didn't know he even had. he was a balm that protected you from yourself. but just like every topical substance, it wore away. and könig's balm was exactly that: topical. it never reached very deep - it wasn't in its nature to. and neither was its nature to last very long, or ever be enough. it was meant to heal only a little at a time, sadistically leaving some wounds unhealed so that you had no choice but to need more.

you tried your best to not look disappointed every time könig clumsily opened the shiny condom wrapper and slid it down his aching length. but you never missed the way his large, calloused fingers shook each time he tore the package open, or the way he'd fling the wrapper somewhere in the room with a frustrated grunt. you were grateful for könig and what he gave you, but the plastic shape of his cock was not enough: you needed more, and you hated yourself for it. you wanted what könig already gave you to be enough.

some nights, on the nights when you just needed his comfort more than anything, you couldn't help the quiet sigh that escaped your lungs as you watched him reach for the condom box. you'd watch könig slide the thin plastic down his smooth cock with contempt masked as sadness, not able to look him in the eye as he created a barrier between you and the part of himself that you needed the most. but still, you welcomed him into you each and every time. how could you ever refuse him, anyway? how could you refuse the only man who looked at you as more than a pretty face, a man who saw more of you than you had ever showed to anyone, even yourself?

there were some nights when könig almost seemed... reluctant to put on the condom. some nights when he just stared at the crinkling wrapper under his fingers, listening to the sound of it without actually tearing it. you always watched in wonder as he listened to the sound of the barrier that separated you two, but you could never tell if he was just lost in his own thoughts for a moment or contemplating not using the thing at all. you didn't think it could be the latter, since he always wore the damn condom every time.

but one night happened when you just couldn't take it anymore; you were just too needy to feel guilty about it. you were tired of the surface-level balm he gave to you abundantly. you wanted the medicine that would penetrate your skin and seep into your bloodstream, the medicine that would reach deeply and be felt within every nerve of your body. as he reached over your head for the box like he always did, you somehow managed to get the words out.

"please. no condom. not tonight." you wished your words had come out more eloquently, more convincingly, but your tongue felt dry in your throat and your voice like it had been sealed away. könig's arm froze in midair above you as you spoke, until he lowered it by his side and stared at you for much longer than you were comfortable with. you were already naked with your legs spread, and his gaze was intense enough as it was. you looked away shamefully as he seemed to dissociate, your skin tingling everywhere his eyes wandered. but his eyes weren't wandering with a purpose; he seemed to be searching your body, trying to find something. but his head stayed still, and you wondered if he could even see you at all. perhaps he was searching instead within himself. maybe könig didn't have the medicine you needed after all.

"just this once," he finally muttered. your eyes opened wide and your lips parted. had you heard him right?

"did...did i just hear you right?" you asked softly. konig then wordlessly slid the underside of his cock on your soaked entrance, coating himself with you. your face burned hot when you finally, finally felt the skin of his manhood against you. you were already shaking and panting, and he wasn't even inside of you yet. he watched you with wonder and lust as he felt the sensation of your wet, slick folds. then, without any warning, könig eased himself into you in one easy, gentle thrust.

every time könig entered you for the first time each night you had sex, it always felt like heaven had been brought down just for you. but this time, when there was no plastic barrier between the most intimate parts of yourselves, it was so much deeper than unbridled ecstasy; it felt like coming back home after being away for so long that you forgot what it felt like to feel safe. you and könig each had your eyes screwed shut and were trembling, your arms and legs wrapped around him tightly. you finally felt his warmth, his smooth hard skin, the ghost of a pulse that fluttered against your walls. and könig finally allowed himself to indulge in the wet, protective warmth of your womb. was it some Freudian concept that made him feel so welcome within your womanhood, his unconscious mind being reminded of where he had come from? or was it that you were just so warm and wet and perfectly wrapped around his cock like you were made for him?

könig shuddered and finally opened his eyes to look down at you. you were panting with your brows furrowed and eyes shut. suddenly, könig set a pace, but it wasn't punishing and animalistic like it usually was. tonight, he slowly - almost too slowly - dragged each and every inch of his cock through your walls, watching as they dragged along his cock as he pulled out and constricted once he went in. you moaned deeply, as if you were breathing for the first time. you had never been so wet for him before, you were literally dripping down his balls and onto the sheets. he gently applied pressure to your lower stomach as he leaned back and watched as he fluidly rolled his hips and sunk his cock in and out, in and out of your heat. his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and you were now silent (except for the occasional gasp) as you traveled somewhere far away that only könig could take you.

könig's pace eventually increased, wanting to near his own end, but he lasted longer than he ever had before. sometimes, he nearly completely stopped and just watched, transfixed, as you begged for him to move. he seemed to be curious about the way you begged, almost like the way an astronomer looks wistfully up at the night sky to understand the stars. but his gaze wasn't cold and analytical like he was collecting data, it was more the gaze of one who sought to completely and wholly understand something far beyond their grasp, far beyond the reaches of their mind and body.

as könig slowly worked up the pace, his large thumb rubbed circles onto your swollen clit painfully slowly. but he was only working you up, edging you until you were both ready to come at the same time. and when you both did, it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. lost in the heat of this mutual explosive orgasm, neither of you realized that könig had come inside you while he was fully sheathed.

you both panted and slowly came back to reality, and you looked at könig, a little confused, as he stared down at where you two were connected. you sat up on your elbows and saw a thin white ring around his cock, and your eyes widened. you couldn't find any words to say, and you looked up at him, a little panicked. you were fine with it, but you knew - at least, you thought you knew - that he wasn't. but könig didn't say a word as he pulled out of your wet heat with a hiss, and gently cleaned you up like he always did.

neither of you mentioned what happened as you both clumsily got dressed, and you pretended not to notice some of the semen he missed dripping down your leg that was absorbed by your pants. you almost wondered if that had even happened with the way that not a single word was said afterwards, but the white stain on your pants was proof that you weren't dreaming.

you smiled softly at könig like you always did after he gave himself to you, and quietly shut his door as you left, filled with his medicine that finally treated some of your wounds that he always left open.

[packagingmania]

Authentic Custom Medicine Boxes to protect your Product:

The primary function of Medicine boxes is to highlight items and brand image. Custom Medicine boxes allow firms to establish a strong market presence. Brands may print their logo and create these boxes in a unique way to help spread a favorable brand reputation. There are so many items in stores, and these products are displayed in display boxes, but by using Medicine boxes Wholesale, businesses may stand out high and distinctive.

[ramblingoak]

Care Package

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader ~ You take care of Copia after he gets sick at the end of the tour

Warnings: Copia being dramatic while sick, fluff, sfw, 1k words, not proofread forgive me

“I’m dying.”

Here we go.  It was a good thing your back was turned because Copia would pitch a fit if he saw you rolling your eyes.  You sighed and continued to pick up all of the used tissues that were littering the floor.  When he let out a pitiful sigh you groaned, turning your head to glare at him.

“Copia, you’re fine.”

“No, no this is it.  I can feel it.”  You bit your lip to stifle the laugh that wanted to bubble out.  Copia was endlessly dramatic whenever he was under the weather.  “It’s near.”

“What’s near?”

“Death.”

“Oh Lucifer, you’re not going to die from a cold.”  He started to respond but was immediately interrupted by a series of violent sneezes, the whole bed shaking from the force of them.  You turned back to the dirty tissues, shoving them into a trash bag while he recovered.  The sound of him blowing his nose filled the room and right when you were turning to check on him again a wet, balled up tissue hit you right in the face.  “Son of a fuck!  Copia!”

“Eh?”  His adorably confused look stopped you from leaping onto the bed and strangling him, but just barely.  The sight of his red, watery eyes made your irritation disappear.  His face was flushed from the fever and sweaty locks of hair had fallen across his forehead.  When Copia realized you were staring at him he groaned and threw his arm over his face.  “You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“Like what?”  You dropped the trash bag and grabbed another box of tissues, slowly walking around the bed to sit by his hip.  He whined when you tugged on his arm so you could see his face.  “Hey, like what?”

“Pathetic.”  You cooed at him, reaching out to brush his hair back.  He sighed when you placed your cool hand on his forehead.  “Weak and old.  Hideous.” 

“Well, this is all true bu–”

“Dolcezza!”  Copia’s voice broke while he whined and he was overcome with a fit of coughing.  You helped turn him so he was coughing away from you, rubbing his back as they came to an end.  “Ugh, why are you here?”

“Someone has to take care of you.”

“You’re going to get sick too.”  He rolled back over on his back with a groan.  “I don’t want you to catch this.”

“I’ll just have to risk it.”  You smoothed his hair out again, giving him a soft smile when he met your eyes.  “I want to take care of you, Copia.”

“Fine, fine.  Twist my arm.”  He managed a weak smile and you resisted the urge to lean down and kiss him.  “Thank you, amore.”

“You’re welcome, Papa.”  You reached towards his night stand and grabbed the damp cloth you had set there earlier.  Copia let out a relieved sigh when you wiped the sweat off his face.  “Now, I’m going to clean you up a bit and then you’ll need to eat something before you take any more medicine.”

“I couldn’t possib–”

“It's homemade chicken noodle soup.”

You laughed when he grabbed your hand, his eyes lighting up at your words.

“Did Secondo make it?”

“Yes, your brothers gave me a care package for you.”  Copia sniffled a bit and you let him pretend it was from his cold.  You got up to grab the laundry basket Terzo had given you and brought it over to the bed, setting it at Copia’s feet so you could show him everything inside.  “Your ghouls also added a few things.”

“Anything good?”

“Primo gave me a salve I’m supposed to rub on your chest.”  You shook her head at him when he waggled his eyebrows.  Even when feverish he couldn’t help himself.  “And Terzo added a book and these penis shaped hard candies for your throat.”

“Where does he find this stuff?”  Copia made grabby hands for the candies and you tossed them over.  He opened the bag quickly, popping one into his mouth and smiling around it.  “These aren’t bad though, what book is it?” 

“The Hobbit.”  His eyes immediately started watering and you frowned.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.  He used to read that to me when we were kids.”  Copia cleared his throat and smiled.  “What did the ghouls send?”

“Um, Phantom knit you a sweater but he ran out of yarn so it’s missing a sleeve.”  You held up the bright blue monstrosity that the quintessence ghoul had proudly shoved into your hands that morning.  “Other than that you got some eucalyptus candles and tea, a few crossword puzzle books and Aurora is letting you borrow her box set of all the Halloween movies.”

Copia’s face lit up at the last item, both he and the ghoulette had bonded over an intense love for slasher movies.  You laid the sweater over his chest and handed him the dvd’s then busied yourself putting the basket away and setting the candles around the room while you both pretended he wasn’t crying.  After he blew his nose a few times you wandered back over, the book from Terzo in your hands.  Copia yawned and settled back into his pillows while you fussed over him, helping him get comfortable.

“Will you read to me, amore?”  You wanted to get him to eat some soup first, but rest would be good for him as well.  As carefully as possible you got up on the bed and sat next to him, smiling when he scooted closer and rested his head against your thigh.  “Just until I fall asleep.”

“Whatever you need, Copia.  I’ll be right here.”  His breath was already evening out, his body going limp as you ran your fingers through his hair.  You quietly opened the book in your lap, taking a few seconds to watch him before you started to read.  “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit…” 

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you! Also if you'd prefer to only be tagged in my reader insert stuff that's ok! Feel free to let me know!

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

[clockwayswrites]

Danny/Jason, glitchy

@violet-catsarelife Inspired by that liminal gamestop post.

The door was silent as it swung open. The little bell at the top of it didn’t even ring. In fact, the whole corner store was oddly quiet. Quiet in a way that made Jason glad to have the reassuring weight of a gun at his side. He really hoped it was nothing. He had just gotten off a long patrol with Tim— the two of them working a case together— and he really just wanted to get some supplies, go back to his shitty safe house, and sleep for at least ten hours.

But it was too quiet.

Disguising it as if looking for the things he wanted to grab, Jason scanned the shop to try and get a feel for what was going on.

The black haired cashier, looking as tired as Jason was if the bags under their eyes was anything to go by, was tucked behind the counter and the flimsy excuse for a blast shield. They were scanning items from an obscenely large pile scattered across the counter. It seemed that the two teens, likely high off their asses, had just grabbed anything that looked interesting for their munchy state and tossed it on the counter.

The cashier grabbed and item, scanned it, dropped it in the bag. Grabbed an item, scanned it, dropped it in the bag. The one teen stood in front of the counter, watching this happen. The other paced back and forth behind them, eyes on the ground and sipping at a frozen slushy drink as they walked. Five steps to the left, pivot unsteadily on their heels, five steps to the right, pivot, and repeat. A little weird, but not concerning for 4 am at a convince store. But still something wasn’t right about it…

Jason tilted his head and tried to make his sluggish brain continue to work despite the bone weary fatigue he felt.

Noise.

It was too quiet.

There was no beep of the scanner. No crinkle of packaging. No rustle of plastic bags. It was like everything was silent.

Jason ran through a mental check list of his injuries, but there had been no concussive blasts or hits to the head that night. He was, in fact, relatively unharmed. He reached up to scratch at his stubble. It made a faint rasping sound.

The cashier kept silently scanning.

The pile didn’t seem to be getting any smaller.

The red neon lights of the open sign were eye searing.

The cashier kept scanning.

It was too quiet.

Jason glanced around the store. There were three other patrons. A tired mother holding a sleeping child that clung to her knit sweater with a chubby hand. She was in front of the small medicine area, box of children’s fever reducer in hand. She blinked listlessly at it.

The other one was over by the beer section, of course. The door to the cooler was open but the grizzled old man was just standing there.

It was cold in there, wasn’t it?

It was too quiet.

Jason’s skin started to crawl. He should leave. He should just turn around and leave.

The neon sign read open. It was so bright.

The store was so cold.

There was no noise.

The door opened.

The bell rang.

Whoever it was groaned loudly. “Goddamn it, not again. I can’t leave you alone for ten minutes, can I?”

It was like the whole room suddenly breathed at once and then let out the breath of air in a soft hiss of noise. The child fussed in their sleep and the mother shushed them. Beer bottles rattled. The teen sucked loudly at the slushy.

The cashier blinked up with bright aqua eyes as they reflectively scanned another item. The chips crinkled, the scanner beeped, the bag rustled. “Sorry dude, just, big tests this week and I’m so tired.”

“Yeah, but can you like, not dude, seriously? It’s still fucking freaky.”

They just shrugged and their rolled their eyes and got back to scanning the shrinking pile of goods.

Jason forced himself to suck in a breath of his own. Right, he needed some supplies. He was going to get some things and go to sleep. Sleep sounded really good right then, at least ten hours.

The bell above the door rang cheerfully as he left a few minuets later with bags in hand.

Been doing some little prompt fills. Feel free to continue this if you want!

[blog-name-idk]

The Package Thief (KNJ)

Beautiful banner by @btsstan12

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Fem Reader

Genre: Neighbors/Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Humor

Summary: You have a new neighbor who is incredibly attractive. Unfortunately, he seems to hate you for no discernable reason at all. Does he think that just because he's hot, he can get away with being an asshole?

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Fem Reader

Genre: Neighbors/Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Humor

Word Count: 3,473

Warnings: Language, dimples, Namtiddies

~~~~~

The first time you saw your tall, handsome, dimple-cheeked neighbor, you were thrilled to have some eye candy in your apartment building. You had just moved in, and when he smiled at you in the lobby, you could have sworn you heard birds chirp and angels sing.

When you spotted him again while gathering up the packages for your floor, you perked up, hoping it would be your chance to get his name.

"Oh hey! Could you hold that for me?" you called as he stepped past the sliding doors. You juggled the boxes awkwardly in your hand as you hurried forward with a smile, only for the handsome stranger to glare at you as if you were doing something wrong. He then pressed a button that was clearly not to keep the door open, because it slid shut in your face.

"What the fuck?" you asked the air, staring at the metal frame incredulously. Who the hell did something like that? Did this asshole think he was too good to share the elevator with you?

Ugh, it figured. Of course someone that hot would never have learned to be a good person.

With a sigh, you jammed the "up" button with your elbow to wait for the next one. Your ire cooled as you waited, and you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he just had to take a shit really badly or something, and what you thought was a glare was actually his constipated face. He would probably apologize the next time you ran into each other.

~~~~~

Your neighbor did not apologize the next time you ran into each other.

If anything, he seemed to glare harder. And then the prick closed the door in your face, again. Unbelievable.

You weren't going to take this abuse laying down, so whenever you were in the position to do so, you returned the favor. It felt good to see the same irritation on his face each time the metal door slid shut, and you relished in your petty victories. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. Did he really think that just because he was hot, he could get away with being a dick?

On this particular day, you had worked late to clean up after a coworker's mistakes, and you were exhausted. All you wanted to do was take off your shoes and bra and listen to some music while you fought off the urge to angry cry.

Of course, because the universe hated you, you got to the lobby to see the smug, obnoxious smirk on your neighbor's face as he jammed the door close button. You clenched your teeth, feeling heat and frustration build behind your eyes, and gave him your most venomous glare as you flipped him off. You were not going to give this horrible piece of shit the satisfaction of seeing you upset.

Once he was gone, you pressed the elevator button, only to notice the sign indicating the other was broken. So you had to wait for piece-of-shit to get to whatever the fuck floor he lived on before it came back. It was a small thing, but enough to break through the cracks of your composure, and you felt hot tears begin to leak down your face.

You wiped your eyes angrily and took several deep breaths while you pulled yourself back together. Well, if you were going to have to wait, you might as well bring the packages up to your floor again. No point in leaving them down here for anyone to take.

As you waited for the elevator, you wondered how in the world anyone could be such a raging asshole.

~~~~~

"God, someone stole a package again yesterday," groaned Namjoon over a glass of scotch. It was Friday, the first night he had free in weeks, and it felt good to unwind after being frustrated by his bitchy neighbor for so long. Seriously, what was up with her? Did she think that just because she was hot she could get away with stealing peoples' mail?

"Again?" Jimin said in surprise, taking a sip of his own drink. "What about building management?"

"What do you mean?" Namjoon asked with a baffled furrow of his brow. Jimin lived in the same building, but on a different floor. Now that Namjoon thought about it, he'd also never heard his friend complain about a single package stolen.

"Do they just not bring up your stuff soon enough?" Jimin questioned, cocking his head. "The girl who brings the packages for my floor even organizes them by unit order."

What the hell was Jimin on about? That wasn't a thing. Oblivious to his friend's confusion, Jimin rambled on, and Namjoon pondered on this new mystery. The only person he'd ever seen picking up several packages was –

"She's really cute too, and she's always smiling."

Okay nevermind, it wasn't her. He doubted he'd seen an expression on her face other than irritation and spite. She was definitely attractive, but hot bitch wasn't really the type that turned him on.

"Oh, there she is, actually!" Jimin chirped in excitement, eyes sparkling as he waved at someone over Namjoon's shoulder. "Hey, [y/n]!"

The mystery girl in question greeted his friend with a vaguely familiar voice, and when Namjoon turned to see who it was, he felt his stomach drop.

You stared back, clearly just as shocked, and Namjoon did his best not to ogle. You weren't wearing anything outrageous, just tight-fitting jeans, a slinky top that hugged your curves, and heels that highlighted how your ass filled out said tight-fitting jeans. Even without the clothes, the smile on your face was enough to make his stomach do something funny, though it quickly faded when you recognized him.

"This is my friend Namjoon!" Jimin continued cheerfully, oblivious to the tense atmosphere suddenly hanging over the table. "He lives in our building! Namjoon, this is [y/n], she's the building person that brings up our packages."

You gave a forced smile, and Namjoon felt the beginning prickles of nausea and anxiety as he realized he might have made a tiny misjudgment.

"I just do it for our floor because it's on the way," you explained quietly, avoiding his gaze. The edges of your smile grew warmer when you looked at Jimin, transforming your face from glacial beauty to soft sincerity.

"Then I definitely owe you a drink," Jimin responded with a laugh, motioning for Namjoon to scoot over to give you room to sit. He obeyed woodenly, mind racing as guilt weighed down his heart.

"Don't worry about it," you assured him with a chuckle that made something in Namjoon's chest ache. "I'm about to walk home, anyway."

"Alone?"

You looked at Namjoon in surprise, and he realized he spoke aloud. He cleared his throat, feeling like a stupid lump as he looked down at his drink with warm cheeks. Despite the relative proximity of the apartment, he didn't like the idea of you alone this late at night.

"Yeah? It's not that far," you said suspiciously, as if waiting for a snide comment. It made his chest sink, though it wasn't as if you didn't have a good reason for your misgivings. He spoke up again, hoping maybe he could talk to you and have the chance to explain his earlier behavior.

"Why don't you have a drink with us, and we can all walk back together?"

To his surprise, you stiffened and the corners of your mouth tightened into a thin line.

"Why? So you can make me take another elevator?" you asked angrily, making Namjoon flush and Jimin look between the two of you in confusion. "No thanks, my week has been exhausting enough already. I'll see you around, Jimin."

With that, you stomped away in unfortunately righteous indignation, and Namjoon barely had time to admire the sway of your hips before Jimin piped up.

"What was that all about?" his friend asked with a frown, his usually twinkling eyes now boring into Namjoon's. He felt heat creep up his face as he sighed and began to tell Jimin the entire saga, from how he had assumed you were stealing packages and proceeded to close the elevator door in your face, to the current state of antagonism. By the time he was finished, his friend's mouth was hanging open, and he felt more embarrassment at just how childishly he had acted.

"Joonie, I'm just really surprised," said Jimin wonderingly as he rubbed his forehead. "It's not like you to be like that."

Namjoon winced, knowing he was right. He liked to think that he was the more mature, level-headed one of their friend group, above silly squabbles and petty revenge. Obviously he had overestimated himself.

"I hope you haven't done anything recently, I think she's been having a hard time at work," Jimin mused, and Namjoon felt the lead weight of guilt in his stomach grow heavier. At this rate it was going to fall out of his butt. "She was crying in the lobby yesterday."

Well fuck. He really was an asshole.

~~~~~

You had just arrived home and flopped facedown on your couch when your recharging was rudely interrupted by a knock at the door. With a groan, you forced yourself up and peered through your peephole. What the fuck?

You made sure your chain lock was fastened before you unlocked the latch and cracked the door open, peering at your visitor dubiously.

"What do you want?" you asked, eyeing a beaming Namjoon in suspicion. You had never seen him look so cheerful, and you had to remind yourself he was not a golden retriever, no matter how cute he looked with flour dusting his nose or how deep his dimples were.

"I made cookies," he said happily, and you realized he was holding a paper plate covered in crumpled tin foil. "To apologize for the way I've been acting towards you."

You felt your brows raise at his statement, and you cast your eyes behind him in mistrust. Where had this one-eighty come from? Was it just because his friend lived on your floor?

Namjoon's shoulders drooped slightly at your lack of response, and he began to shift in place awkwardly.

"Um, I just – so I know I've been a dick to you," he began, chewing his lip and looking adorably embarrassed. "This is gonna sound stupid but I thought you were stealing packages when I saw you holding all of them."

For a moment, all you could do was stare.

"You thought that I would steal a bunch of packages, in the building I live in, while other residents were around?" you asked incredulously, making Namjoon turn bright red and clear his throat.

"Well, when you put it that way…" he mumbled awkwardly. "I just… I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I hope we can start over."

He peered at you with such hopeful eyes that you felt your resolve crumble, and when you unhooked the chain from your door you could have sworn you saw a tail wagging.

"Okay," you replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling at the way he had perked up. Those dimples were serious weapons against your ability to hold a grudge. You held out your hand. "I'm [y/n], and I do not steal packages."

Namjoon laughed, a low, rich sound that you felt vibrate in your stomach, and took your hand in a firm, warm grip.

"I'm Namjoon, and I'm an idiot who jumps to crazy conclusions," he said with a grin that deepened the stupidly cute divots in his cheeks. Then he had to let go to save the wobbling plate of cookies from an untimely demise before holding it toward you with a look of chagrin.

You accepted his offering with a laugh, feeling like a warm bubble was floating in your chest. Then you bade your hot, not-asshole neighbor goodbye and set the plate on your kitchen table. You peeked under the foil, and decided maybe one cookie before dinner was acceptable. Or maybe two, if –

You took a bite of the soft, delicious looking pastry and immediately spat it out in disgust. What the fuck.

~~~~~

Namjoon Hyung! It worked!

Jin Wait, you actually made the cookies?

Namjoon Yes! They came out perfectly No fires and only a few cracked eggs on my floor!

Jin I'm impressed How'd they taste?

Namjoon Oh fuck

~~~~~

For the second time tonight, your evening was interrupted by unwelcome pounding at your door. You didn't even bother to check who it was this time.

"What do you have this time?" you snarled through the door, wondering if it was worth it to open it so you could strangle Namjoon's handsome neck. "Oreos with toothpaste filling?"

The knocking ceased, and a small, timid voice spoke up on the other side of the wood.

"Oh… you had one…"

"Unfortunately," you said shortly, crossing your arms in an attempt to keep his woebegone tone from softening your ire.

"I was hoping you hadn't yet," he wheezed through the door. "I forgot to taste them before I gave them to you."

He sounded sincere, and suddenly you realized he was speaking through pants, as if he was out of breath.

"Did you run all the way up here to warn me?" you asked in surprise, mollified enough to unlock your door and open it to reveal a rumpled looking Namjoon, bent over with his hands on his knees.

"Yeah – I didn't want to wait for the elevator," he replied, red-cheeked from exertion. "I'm sorry, I'm actually a disaster cook but I really thought I did a good job this time."

You felt your lips twitch into a smile at the imagine of tall, handsome Namjoon tasting a cookie and then immediately bolting up however many flights of stairs to stop you from eating them. What a clumsy idiot. A clumsy, adorable idiot.

"Do you want some water?" you asked, stepping aside to invite him in.

"That would be amazing," he gasped, giving you a grateful look as he walked inside. As he passed you, you noticed a few beads of sweat rolling down his temple. He really was even more attractive up close.

You directed him to sit on your couch as you grabbed a glass of water, and he picked up the book you had left on your coffee table.

"Oh, you read Murakami?" he asked as he looked at the cover. "I haven't read this one yet, is it any good?"

"It's my first, actually," you replied as you set the glass in front of him, sitting on the couch a respectable distance away. "I think he presents ideas of loneliness and intimacy in interesting ways. Does he always write the women as accessories to the male protagonists, though?"

"Haha… unfortunately, yes," Namjoon agreed, his dangerous dimples making another appearance as he smiled apologetically at you. "Do you read a lot?"

"I try, but not as much as I used to," you said with a sigh, letting your head fall back to rest on the back of your couch. "After work sometimes I'm too mentally exhausted to do anything but exist."

"But you still bring your floor's packages up?" Namjoon said in surprise, turning his wide chest towards you and giving you his full attention. You tried not to stare at the way his pecs strained against his plain white shirt, but between his body and his face there was nowhere safe for your gaze to land.

"It's not like it's that much extra effort," you said with a shrug. "Why wouldn't I when it's easy?"

"It wouldn't even cross most peoples' minds to do it," Namjoon replied, eyes locked on yours and making your cheeks feel warm. "You're a nice person, [y/n]."

"I-it's really not a big deal," you said feebly, your chest fluttering at the sincerity in his voice. You cast about your mind for a change in subject, because the way he was smiling at you was dangerous for your heart. "How did you fuck up those cookies so spectacularly, anyway?"

Your question worked to take that piercing gaze off of you, and Namjoon turned a pretty shade of pink as he looked down at his knees.

"I uh – I'm really not sure," he muttered in embarrassment, making you want to coo at how cute he was.

"Did you… follow a recipe?" you asked in consternation, watching his cheeks grow even redder.

"I… yeah, but…" he mumbled, eyes glancing around before settling on the glass of water. He grabbed it and took a large swig, and you did your best to ignore the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed.

"But?" you urged, amusement lacing your voice as this once-asshole stammered and squirmed uncomfortably on your sofa.

"Why wouldn't more vanilla extract make it taste better?" Namjoon whined, making you put your hand over your mouth to hide a snort.

"Oh my god, you didn't," you giggled, his chagrined pout doing as much to endear him to you as the previous half our combined. "It also tasted like you switched salt for sugar."

"Dammit," he groaned, flopping backwards so he was oddly contorted on the couch, feet still on the ground but his hips twisted so his back was laying on your cushions. His knees knocked against yours and he shot back up with an apologetic look, but all you could do was laugh harder.

"My friend who gave me the recipe was just impressed I didn't burn anything down," he sighed, though he seemed relieved that you looked more amused than irritated.

"You… you really don't cook, do you?" you chortled, scooting a little closer so you could nudge his shoulder with yours.

"I'm your stereotypical bachelor," he replied with a sigh, draping an arm behind you, across the back of the couch. You felt your heart flutter again at the smooth combination of the physical action with the way he confirmed he was single.

"So no pretty ladies – or men – to teach you?" you teased, leaning further into his body. He met your eyes with his warm gaze, making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"Nope," he murmured, arm slipping off the sofa to rest lightly atop your shoulders, so precarious that it was clear he was half-expecting you to shrug him off.

"I guess that means I should invite you to stay for dinner," you said with a smile, enjoying the ego boost when his eyes brightened.

"No pretty men – or ladies – who would be upset by that?" he hedged, those dastardly dimples making their reappearance as he leaned closer, gaze flickering to your lips. His arm slipped lower to hug your waist, and you let him pull you closer.

"Only one who would be upset if you refused," you murmured with a smirk, tangling your fingers in his shirt as you tugged him toward you.

His lips were warm against yours, even softer than they looked, and you let out a pleased sigh as you melted into his firm chest. A low groan rumbled from his throat, sending warm tingles shooting from your chest through your limbs, and you sucked his plump lower lip between your teeth.

"I really just thought you were a hot asshole," you said with a laugh, pulling away despite the heat beginning to settle in your core.

"I mean, I was definitely an asshole," he mumbled, cheeks pink as his gaze stayed glued to your lips. Then his eyes widened. "Uh, h-hot?"

You snorted at his surprise, giving him a very obvious once over. Namjoon's face flamed even redder, which was absolutely adorable.

"Have you seen yourself?" you teased, letting your hands rest on his shoulders.

"Nah, too busy looking at you," he replied quietly, and it was your turn to be flustered. How had he turned the tables like that so quickly?

"Ha ha," you said awkwardly, cursing yourself for your inability to formulate a coherent response. He was supposed to be the idiot, not you. At your response, those dimples made their reappearance, and you stood up to prevent yourself from melting into a gooey puddle.

"Anyway, I'm gonna start dinner."

You said it in a rush, in the hopes that Namjoon didn't realize how giddy he was making you.

"Oh! Let me help!"

He began to get up from the couch, and you promptly shoved him back down.

"For the love of god, please don't," you teased with a laugh, pressing a kiss on his nose to ease the sting of your words. "Just sit there and look pretty. Moral support."

Namjoon smiled back at you, eyes warm and affectionate, and you wondered if you would even be able to focus properly while this mancake was lounging on your couch.

"As you wish."

~~~~~