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#look grandma I’ve finally made it!!!
psychoticwillgraham · 4 months
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tfw ur so good at drag that ur very presence shakes the head honcho of the scene to her very core bc my potential to be a real star terrifies her bc she’s not and bc im better than her. who also tries to sabotage my career opportunities and cut my career at the knees so I’ll never find success just bc she’s pissed that I’m extremely beloved here and she isn’t. imagine having THAT big of an inflated ego from years of being coddled and being around yes men who do her every bidding, that a simple, tiny dog hair covered king, strikes that much fear into her.
I’ll definitely say that my fans are PASSIONATE like seriously. like ppl came to the show JUST for me and agreed to all vote for me so that I could finally get my flowers. I rlly hope somebody got a video of when the audience vote for the win was, bc my ears were ringing after the applause.
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kirisclangen · 28 days
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Larchpaw
She/her, 8 moons, cis molly
#Larchpaw#beetleclan#apprentice#clangen#warrior cats oc#kiri’s clangen#warrior#kiri's clangen#Wow i wonder who this mini Berrymurk is. Surely it’s not his one and only daughter#surely him and his daughter don’t have nearly identical sprites save for Larch having a slightly yellower tint and an apprentice pose#But to be so forreal the name Larch is actually really fitting becuase of that becuase larch trees are a conifer that isn’t an evergreen.#their needles turn yellow and fall off in the fall which fits because she’s just a little more yellow than her dad#I also made the pointy parts of her fur point down instead of up like the rest of her family just to show she doesn’t look all that much-#-like her grandma Gravelshock#She’s technically half-clan and her other parent is unknown so I like to think her other parent had droopier fur (though I have no one in-#-particular planned)#Anyways she’s sort of friends/rivals with Swallowpaw (who I’m planning on having as the starting POV for beetleclan) so expect to see and-#-read a lot of her whenever I get to the actual story part#I actually love Larch a lot she’s very cute I’m tempted to do her POV at least sometimes#but Idk#Also I’M FUCKING BACK!!!#can’t say how regular posts will be considering the computer I use to add the border afterwords is Wigging The Fuck Out Constantly and I-#-can barely use it but I’ve got one more cat queued after this at least so there’s that!#I can’t wait to get to the actual story I’m gonna do it in fic form with some illustrations scattered throughout instead of a comic (unless#-I feel like a specific moons needs a comic)#and I think I’ll put in on my AO3 which’ll be fun so yeah. I’m excited to finally get through all these designs hopefully over this summer#and I’m done with hs now so I can continue working on it during this next year because I don’t plan on doing college immediately!! So yeah-#-I’ve got a lot of time on my hands now and I’m excited to get back to Projects!!#I’m thinking of doing commissions on my main too (including warriors/clangen designs) so look out for that if you’re interested
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itsmarsss · 6 months
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cool. [Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader] (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)
(from the vault)
You start working as a babysitter for the Heffleys, but a certain someone seems to be bugging his parents to go out more often. Why?
Words: 6,164
Warnings: like one slight sexual/porn innuendo
[. . .]
"What do you mean someone to watch me?” Greg yelled, exhasperated.
Rodrick laughed out loud at the whole situation. “Wait is little Greg here getting a babysitter?”
“Yes, and she starts tomorrow night," their mom replied, matter-of-factly.
“Mom, I’m in seventh grade! I don’t need a babysitter!”
“We’d believe it if the last time we left the two of you alone you hadn’t directly disobeyed the only thing we told you not to do and thrown a party while we were gone," their dad explained.
“Wait. Mom. So I don’t have to watch him? Like ever again?”
“No but you should be ashamed of the reason why-”
“Hell yeah!”
“Rodrick-” He was already up the stairs on the way to his room. She sighed. 
“Mom you can’t do this to me. Do you know how bad it'll be if the guys in my grade find out you got me a babysitter?”
“They’re not gonna find out, sweetie.” She patted his head.
“And it’s not negotiable.”
“What your dad said.”
"Dad!”
“I’m sorry, kid! But if it makes you feel better, since Rodrick will be here and we’re getting a babysitter because we can’t leave the two of you alone, she’s teeechnically his babysitter too, right?”
“It doesn’t make me feel better.”
“I tried," he shrugged.
“Where are you two even going tomorrow?”
“We’re having dinner! " Susan exclaimed, excited to talk about it. "Alone, finally, because-”
“Wait couldn't she technically be Manny’s babysitter then?”
“Thank you for caring so much about what I had to say, son.” She sighed once again. “She’s not Manny’s babysitter because Manny’s gonna stay with your grandma.”
Greg huffed and made a point to be extremely loud when stumping upstairs to his room, immediately getting cornered by Rodrick. 
“So… a babysitter, huh? And I thought your seventh grade couldn’t get any worse.”
“D´you think it’ll be that bad?”
“Dude they probably got you an old lady who smells like a museum whos gonna make you eat soup at like five PM and sleep at seven.”
Greg widened his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, worried at the thought of what his brother was making him imagine. “You think?”
“Yup. And I’m not even talking about the total humiliation it's gonna be if someone your age finds out.”
“Crap.”
“Good luck with that.” Rodrick was obviously enjoying the mere thought of the torture that was going to follow.
. . .
“A babysitter?” Rowley asked, rather loudly. Greg quickly put his hand over his best friend's mouth. 
“Dude! Can you be quiet?”
“Hmmph!” Rowley tried to protest.
Greg released his hand from over his mouth. “Sorry.”
“Why do I need to be quiet?”
“Because I don’t want anybody to know!”
“Why?”
“Because it’s embarrassing, Rowley!”
Rowley just shrugged. “I wouldn’t be embarrassed. A babysitter sounds fun! Maybe she’ll read you bedtime stories! And play board games with you!”
Greg just looked at him incredulously. “Just don’t say anything about this to anyone., okay?"
Rowley suddenly started to look really nervous. “You know I can’t lie…”
“It’s not lying! It’s just not mentioning it! No one’s gonna ask about it.”
“Okay. Fine.” He didn't seem that sure about it, but Greg knew he'd try his best.
. . .
You took in a sharp breath before knocking on the front door. It took no time for it to be sprung open, and you were greeted by a smiling Mrs. Heffley. You retributed the smile. 
“Hi Mrs. Heffley!”
“Hey, sweetie! How are you?” She asked as she ushered you into the house, startling you when she closed the door behind you as you walked in. 
“I’m alright! How about you guys? Your dress looks so pretty!”
“Oh my God, thank you! You know it’s been ages since I’ve worn a pretty dress to go out, you can’t trust three kids with a pretty dress, they're always gonna ruin it.”
“Oh God that must be hell,” you laughed along with her. “Where are you guys headed tonight?”
“Looking forward to having dinner in peace,” she laughed again. “Manny!” she yelled suddenly, startling you yet again.
A little boy walked in in his diapers, holding his pants up with both hands. 
“Manny can you just please put on your pants?” Mr. Heffley followed the kid around, frustratedly asking him for what you assumed must have been at leat a fourth time to put his pants on, judging by the tone in his voice and the sigh that accompanied it.
“No!”
“Manny!” Ms. Heffley yelled yet again. The kid did what he was supposed to.
“Um I didn’t- is Manny gonna be staying with me tonight?”
“No! No,” she laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re taking him to my mother’s house.”
“Oh, right. Okay.” You tried to let out how relieved you were. Little kids were a whole other level of difficult, specially at Manny's age.
“Darling are you ready?” Susan asked her husband.
“Yeah! Yeah.”
“Greg!” she yelled again.
“What?” The boy yelled back from his room upstairs. 
“Y/n’s here! Come say hi!”
“Who’s y/n?”
“Your babysitter!”
He came downstairs. Very slowly. “Mom I already-” He stopped.  “You’re not an old lady!"
“Gregory! We don't say that to people! What is that about?"
“I’m sorry! I meant- Rodrick told me my babysitter was gonna be an old lady who smelled like a museum."
"Of course he did," Mr. Heffley said, under his breath.
You pretended to smell yourself. “I think I might smell more like an art gallery maybe,” you joked.
“I’m so sorry about this."
“It’s fine, Mrs. Heffley! Don’t worry about it. Now you two go have some fun, alright? Come on."
“Yeah! Okay. Right. There’s money on the table, you can order whatever you want for dinner the kids will eat whatever. Just grab the money before Rodrick comes downstairs or he's gonna pocket it. If you need anything you can call, okay? Really, anything.”
“Don’t worry about it! I promise I’ll call if anything happens! But I think we’re just gonna stay and eat some food and watch some movies, right Greg?”
“Uh, yeah. I guess.”
“Please be nice, Greg. Oh and if Rodrick bothers you tell him I said he’ll be grounded if I hear he's not letting you work alright?"
“Sure thing! Thank you. Now go!” You joked, pretending to send them off.
. . .
You and Greg had both sat down on the couch in the living room.
“So. You’re not an old lady.”
“Nope.”
“Are you in high school?”
“Yes I am.”
“What grade are you in?"
“I’m a senior!”
“Oh. Rodrick’s a senior too.”
“Cool! I don’t think I’ve seen him around though.”
“Lucky.”
“Why’s that?”
“He makes my life hell!”
“Well don’t you make his life hell at least a tiny little bit?”
“Maybe a little bit.”
“That’s just your job.”
“Trust me no girls like him.”
“Whatever, Heffley. So what do you wanna do?”
“Can we play video games?”
“Depends on what you have.”
“Apocalypse of The Damned?”
“I have never heard of that in my entire life.”
“You’re gonna like it I swear!”
“Alright. But you have to bring me the money your mom left on the table, I’m gonna order us some pizza.”
“Deal!” He ran out to the kitchen, getting back with the money in no time.
. . .
“Hey I was thinking. Can my friend sleep over?” Greg asked, obviously having been preparing himself to do so for the past few minutes, while furiously hitting buttons on his controller as you scrolled through your phone, having gotten tired of playing at that point. 
“Um. Is your friend gonna give me any trouble?”
“No! You can- you can trust us.”
“Is he annoying?”
He seemed to take his time to think of an answer. “A little. But he’s pretty cool.”
“Fine, I’ll ask your mom.”
You clicked on Mrs. Heffley’s contact name. 
hi mrs heffley
how's the date going? im sorry to interrupt
You didn't even have the time to finish writing the next text before she was calling you. You picked it up.
“Is everything okay?” Susan asked, clearly worried.
“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, you don't have to worry! I’m so sorry to interrupt your date, Greg wanted a friend to stay over and I just wanted to see if that’s okay with you.”
“Is it Rowley?”
“Sorry?”
“The friend, is it Rowley?”
“Is it Rowley?” You asked Greg, leaning away from the phone, to which he just nodded his head yes. “Yeah, Rowley.”
“Okay, of course he can! And don’t worry, I’ll pay you extra for it.”
“Oh, that’s really nice, thank you. Now you should go back to your date, I'm so sorry to bother.”
“No worries! Are you sure everything’s fine?”
“Yes! We ordered pizza and we’re playing video games right now. Everything under control.”
“And Rodrick?”
“Uh, I haven’t really seen him honestly. He definitely hasn’t left his room though.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Bye!” You hung up.
“So?”
“Yeah, call your friend. Ask him if he has any board games we can play!”
Greg did as you said, and, in about half an hour, a little boy with a yellow shirt with a dog on it stood at the door.
“Are you Greg’s babysitter?’
“Uh yeah, I am.”
“Cool!" He looked at Greg behind you. "You told me she was old!”
“Rowley!”
“What? You did!”
You laughed at the interaction and let them do their thing, only asking them to stay by the living room so you could keep an eye on them. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone again as you knew the pizza should be about to get there.
The doorbell rang in no time. You stood up to pay for it, grabbing the large-size pizza and tipping the delivery guy, who didn’t look very friendly at all. You brought it in. “Hey Greg can you go call your brother?”
“Yeah!”
He ran up the stairs, and you set the box down on the dining table, Rowley sitting down. Greg came back.
“He told me to bring it to him.”
“Why?"
"He just doesn't wanna come downstairs."
"You don't have to do it.”
“What? He’s gonna beat me up for it!”
“Not with me here. I got you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Chill out.”
. . .
“Hey you little asshole? I told you to bring my pizza!” A voice exclaimed from the second floor, and Greg muffled a quiet ‘shit’.
“Hey don’t say that!” You scolded Greg for swearing as a reflex.
“Hey? Are you not listening?” Rodrick was clearly close to the kitchen now. He walked through the door. “I said get me so-” he stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you.
“Who’s this?” He asked the boys.
“That’s Y/N,” Rowley said, through gulps.
"And I'm right here you know? You could just ask me who I am."
“Well who are you? And what are you doing… here?” He leaned over the wall, in a poor attempt to look cool. You had to fight yourself tas not to laugh uncontrollably at the sight.
“Well I seem to be your babysitter for the night.”
“What?”
“Did you also expect an old lady? You know, that's a really common and really hurtful babysitter stereotype, you really should think about the things you say now.”
“Wha- huh- yeah- I’ll just-” He let out a weird laugh, and walked up to the table, grabbing himself a slice of pizza and stuffing it into his mouth, seemingly to shut himself up.
“Well we’re gonna watch a movie after we’re done eating. You wanna join?”
“Oh he’s not gonna-” Greg started talking, but Rodrick quickly interrupted him, almost choking on his food as he did so.
“Yeah! Yeah! What are we uh- what are we watching?”
“Zathura.”
“What the fuck is Zathura?”
“Don’t swear in front of them!”
“Sorry.”
Greg looked at Rowley like Rodrick had just gone insane. Did he just apologize?
You laughed. “I’m kidding. You guys don’t mind, do you?”
They both slowly nodded their head no. 
“Cool. As long as you don’t repeat it in front of your parents, alright? Don’t wanna get me in trouble.”
“We’re not five!"
“Well you do look like it,” Rodrick commented, and Greg stuck his tongue out at him.
. . .
“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Rodrick commented, pointing at the screen.
“It’s not supposed to! It’s a kids movie about a magical board game,” you pointed out.
“Let me guess, did Rowley pick this one?”
“For your information, I did. You got a problem?”
“No.”
Rowley had, in fact, picked this one.
Greg and Rowley shared a look again. This was getting bizzarre.
The movie was over in about half an hour, and it was time for you to put Greg to sleep.
“But it’s so early!” The boy complained, and you laughed.
“I know, but you don’t have to sleep now, you just gotta go to bed! I can’t, like, force you to sleep.”
He let out an annoyed groan before agreeing and pulling Rowley with him by the wrist. “Fine.”
“I’ll be upstairs in a few!” You yelled out, and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes from dinner. It wasn’t really something Mrs. Heffley had explicitly asked you to do, but you had those extra minutes and wanted to get on her good side. 
What you didn’t expect was to come in to find Rodrick still standing there, startling himself when you walked in.
“Uh hey!” His voice was high-pitched, clearly not expecting to see you there so soon.
“Hey.” You wordlessly walked to the sink, starting with the dishes. And then he offered to help you, which didn’t fit the image you had of him at all.
“What?”
“I said do you want some help? I can dry them.”
“Uh sure. Thanks.”
He just nodded, grabbing a cloth. “So did you put them to sleep yet?”
“Yeah they’re supposed to call me when they’re ready. Then I’m pretty much done.”
“Are you leaving like right after?” Was he… disappointed?
“Well not right after, your mom still has to pay me.”
“Right. She paying you extra for the dishes?”
“No,” you laughed, “just wanna score some points. This job’s good money, you know? But don’t tell her I said that.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
You nodded, a little awkwardly. “So what’s the deal with the van?”
“What?”
“The huge white van parked right outside? I assume it’s not your mom’s.”
“Yeah.”
“Couldn’t you have picked a better color?”
“What?”
“You know something other than the classic creepy white van?”
He actually laughed. “I don’t think a creep would have ‘löded diper’ written on the door.”
“Maybe you’re just trying not to look too suspicious.”
“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Was he… flirting? Well, that was… an attempt.
“What, are you inviting me? You know, I was taught not to get into creepy white vans with strangers.”
“We’re not strangers!” He held his hand up for you to shake, which you did. “I’m Rodrick.”
“Y/N.”
“So. Ho'wd you end up babysitting Greg out of all people?”
“I mean, your dad posted something about it in the newspaper and my mom told me about it. Some extra money, you know?”
“And you’re sure it’s worth it? I mean he’s a big pain in the ass.”
“Aren’t all brothers?”
“I’m not.”
“Right. You’re like a dictator to him!”
“No I’m not!”
“He was scared you were gonna beat him up if he didn’t bring you pizza.”
“He’s dumb. I wasn’t gonna beat him up that badly.”
You laughed. “Well, we’re done. Thank you for the help. You can go now if you wanna.”
“You sound like a mom.”
“Oh my god! Stop trying to make me sound old! I'm some granny cinderella who turns into an old lady who smells like a museum when midnight strikes," you teased him, and he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.
"Right. He told you about that.”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry. To be fair, I never had a babysitter, you know? I just thought they were all old and boring.”
“Do you think I’m old and boring?” You joked.
He snorted. “No, you’re pretty.” His eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said. Way to go. “Not in that- well not that you’re not pretty, you are, but you know what I mean. You’re uh- you’re pretty compared to what I- expected?"
It was stupid, but you could feel yourself blush a little. Why was it that you always fell for the most absolute idiots? “So I’m pretty… compared to an old woman.”
“I think you should let me start over.”
“But-”
“Y/N!” You heard Greg yell from upstairs, and you left the kitchen to go see him, going up the stairs and entering his room.
“Okay, we ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you brush your teeth?”
“Yes!”
“Both of you?”
“Yup.”
“Okay I’ll believe you. But your mom told me you’re on thin ice.”
Greg rolled his eyes and both boys got on the bed. 
“Okay, goodnight. If you don’t sleep right away don’t make too much noise.”
“Are you coming over tomorrow?”
“Why, did you actually like me?”
“Just a little.”
You smiled. “Well no. But I think I might next week.”
“Cool! ‘Night, Y/N!” 
“‘Night!”. You closed the door behind you, and walked downstairs to wait for Mrs. and Mr. Heffley to return so you could go home. 
You stopped on the hallway to send your mom a quick text saying you were fine and should be leaving in a few before making your way to the living room.
To your surprise, Rodrick hadn’t gotten back to his room. Instead, he was laying on the couch, his entire body draped over it as he scrolled through his phone. He sat right up when he saw you. “Hey Y/N.”
“Hey. You not have anything to do?”
“I’m offended. But no I don’t.”
You laugh, sitting down beside him. “Okay. Well your parents must be on their way, so. Don’t have much to do either.”
“You wanna watch something?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Well a real movie.”
“Zathura’s a real movie! I like it!”
“You actually do?”
“Yes!”
“Whatever. Well an adult movie I mean.”
“Uh, an adult movie?”
“No! Not that kind!” He was blushing furiously and you found it hilarious. 
“Yeah whatever. What do you have?”
You ended up settling on a Marvel movie, but you barely had the time to start it before the doorbell rang, and you had to go get the door.
“Hey Y/N! I’m sorry we took so long, we had to go get Manny.”
“That’s fine! Rodrick and I were just about to watch a movie!”
“Rodrick came downstairs?” Mr. Heffley sounded genuinely surprised.
“Well you can finish it if you want!”
“Oh, no, I really should get going. We can finish it another time.”
“Oh well. Okay.” She put Manny down and grabbed her wallet, handing you your money. “Here, with the extra from Rowley. Hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”
“Oh they were so cool! I was surprised.”
“Oh that’s great to hear! If they haven’t traumatized you too much we’d love to have you sit them again.”
“Oh definitely! Just give me a call.”
“Thank you, Y/N. Are you driving home?”
“Oh, no, I’m actually walking. I thought we’d be done a little earlier.”
“Oh that’s not good, we can take you-”
“I can take her!” Rodrick yelled, almost falling off of the couch in his eagerness. He stood up, walking toward you. His dad looked like he was short-circuiting.
“Are you sure?” His mom asked.
“Yeah! Come on, let’s go.” He walked quickly past the front door and into the white van.
“Sure. Bye Mrs. Heffley!”
“Bye sweetie! Tell me if he bothers you too much!”
You walked towards the van, getting in on the passenger’s seat. He turned the engine on in silence. There was an awkward atmosphere surrounding you, and you didn’t know why.
You cleared your throat. “So uh. Thanks for driving me.”
“Yeah it’s chill. Where do I turn?”
“Oh let me just- give me your phone.”
“What?”
“So I can put the address on the GPS?”
“Oh. Sure.” He handed it to you after unlocking it, and you did as you said. 
“Turn left in 200 feet,” the disembodied voice said, and he did.
“You don’t have to uh- do these things for me. You know, drive me home, help me with the dishes. It’s nice, but I’m not gonna tell on you if you don’t.”
“I know. I uh. I want to.”
“You wanna do the dishes?”
“I wanna help you.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Fine.”
You got home pretty quickly, as you didn’t live a long way from the Heffley residence, and got out of the car. 
“Thank you for driving me! Goodnight.”
“Yeah!” Rodrick yelled back, and waited for you to get in to drive off. There was a smile on your lips you couldn’t shake off, and you felt stupid for it. Was the weird wannabe rock band kid really having an effect on you?
. . .
On wednesday, you got a call from Ms. Heffley again. And then on friday, and saturday, and sunday. This could not be normal, right? But it was money, so you obviously wouldn’t refuse it. So you pulled up to the Heffley residence for the fifth time on sunday, knocking on the door as usual.
Greg opened it this time, greeting you with a confused expression. “You’re here again?”
“Miss me, kid?”
“Are they going out again?”
“Apparently.”
“Mom, Y/N’s here!”
“Oh hey sweetie! Thank you for coming!”
“No problem! Where are you off to today?”
“Well we’re going bowling. Rodrick found us these pamphlets at the mall and wouldn’t stop bugging us about trying it out, so we decided to give it a go.”
“Oh he did?” That was strange.
“And you seem to have things so under control! I can’t believe we’ve been going out so much!”
“Well I’m happy to hear it. When will you be back?”
“I’d say eleven if that’s not too late for you?”
“Oh definitely not! As long as Rodrick can drive me.”
“Oh that won’t be a problem. You ready, darling?” She asked her husband, who walked by holding Manny in one arm and a huge bag in the other. 
“Yeah.”
"Everything there?” Susan asked him, referring to the bag. She turned back to you. “Manny’s staying over at my mom’s for the first time today. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Yeah!" You exclaimed, not really getting all the excitement about it. You supposed you would if you were his mom. Right now you were just happy you didn’t have to watch over him too. Little kids were always more difficult. 
“Okay bye everyone!”
Greg and Rodrick were right behind you the moment you closed the door.
“Can we make pasta?’ Greg asked, and damn, the little dude must have had some sugar because he looked like he’d downed like three energy drinks at once.
“Well yeah. I make a killer pasta. Is Rowley coming today?”
“Yeah!”
“Cool.”
“Do you want help with the food?” Rodrick finally spoke up, and Greg looked at him like he was speaking Greek.
“Sure.”
“Are you okay?’ Greg couldn’t contain himself from asking him.
“What do you mean, assface?”
“Did you just offer to help with the food?”
“Yeah?”
“Who are you?”
“Oh shut it, dickhead.” You didn’t miss the nervous glance he gave you, clearly signaling something about you to Greg. And then Greg seemed to figure something out, his eyes going wide.
“Oh! Is that why you-” Rodrick looked alarmed, putting his hand against Greg’s mouth to keep him from talking, but he managed to get himself free. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get mom and dad to go out all week?”
“Hah. Don’t know what he’s talking about, pssht.” Rodrick laughed nervously.
“Uh sure. Well I’m already hungry so I’m thinking early dinner and then we can make dessert?”
“Yes!” Greg yelled.
“Okay but if we’re making the food you gotta set the table. Deal?” 
Greg groaned in annoyance, but agreed. “Fine.” He went on his way, and you and Rodrick made your own way to the kitchen.
“So,” you started, as you grabbed the pasta from the cabinet. “You’ve been trying to get your parents to go out all week.”
He looked everywhere but at you. “Uh, I don’t know what the kid’s on about.”
“Well, shame. Cause I was gonna thank you.”
“For what?”
“Well the more times a week I work the more money I get right?”
“Oh right. Right. So yeah you can thank me.”
“So you were setting them up to go out. Why?”
He shrugged, trying to seem cool. “Wanted to be alone.”
“You’re not alone now. You could be in your room. Or like out with your friends or whatever.”
“I didn’t anticipate that you’d actually be cool.”
“Oh you think I’m cool?”
“Yeah.” 
The water started to boil, and you threw the pasta in the pot, stirring it with a fork.
“Cool. You’re kinda cool too. You know when you’re not trying to be impressive.”
“I’m not trying to impress you!”
“I didn’t say you were trying to impress me .”
“Well I was.”
“You were.”
“Did it work?”
“Why’d you want to impress me?”
“Cause you’re cool. I wanted you to think I’m cool too.”
“Huh. Maybe I do.”
“Cool.”
“Y/N I’M DONE! I THINK ROWLEY’S HERE !” Greg’s voice came from the dining room.
“I didn’t hear the doorbell, are you sure?” You yelled back, walking past Rodrick to get the front door. Maybe you were too lost in the conversion to hear it, because the boy was standing right there when you opened it.
“Hey Y/N!” He said with a smile, greeting you with a hug, which was very on-brand for the kid. 
“Hey Rowley. You alright?”
“Yeah! I brought water balloons!”
“You did?”
“Well they’re not full of water yet so they’re just balloons but yeah.”
“Cool! You should tell Greg!”
“Will you play with us?”
“Oh I don’t know, I don’t have clothes I can get wet-”
“Well that’s not a problem!” Rodrick said, and you frowned in confusion. “You can borrow mine!”
“Oh I don-”
“C’mon, Y/N, you really gonna disappoint the boy?”
“Shut up. Fine, but you’re playing too.”
“Deal.”
“Yes!” Rowley exclaimed, before taking off, presumably to go find Greg.
“Well you wanna go up to my room?” Rodrick asked, apparently having otten some confidence from out of the blue, sporting a cocky smirk.
You laughed. “You wish. Just bring me a t-shirt.”
“Yeah. Someone’s gonna be looking like the number one Loded Diper fan out there.”
“If you bring me a white shirt I will beat you up!” You yelled, and he was already on his way upstairs. You took the past out of the pot, mixing it with the sauce you’d made, which was the easiest one you could find.
Rodrick was back as soon as you set the pot down on the table, handing you a gray shirt that , of course, had ‘loded diper’ written on it in terrible handwriting. 
“Thanks.” You draped the shirt over your shoulder and all of you ate in silence, apparently all stupidly hungry for some reason.
You were done pretty quickly, but made sure to get Greg and Rowley to promise to help with the dishes this time, since there were more.
“Okay! We’re gonna get changed!”
“Yeah me too!” You yelled back, making your way to the bathroom, changing into Rodrick’s gray shirt.
It didn’t hang as loose as you thought it would, and you laughed at the thought of Rodrick wearing a tight shirt for no reason. You supposed it was an old one he decided to turn into loded diper merch. Loded diper. What a stupid fucking name. You guessed it was fit. 
Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Rodrick. “You done? These kids are little demons, they talk so much!”
You laughed, unlocking the door and grabbing your own shirt before opening it. 
“Hello?” He looked wide-eyed, like his brain was malfunctioning, staring profusely at his shirt. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Fine. The shirt alright?”
“Yeah. A lot smaller than I expected. Does Rodrick Heffley wear crop tops?”
He shrugged, embarrassed. “Sometimes. That bad?”
“No.”
“Chicks dig the crop tops, you know.”
“Oh do they?”
“Don’t you?”
“I guess I’d have to see you in one to give an opinion.”
“Yeah that’s not happening any soon."
“Shame.”
“What?”
“I said let’s go.”
You barely had the time to walk into the front yard before Rodrick was hit on the face by a huge water balloon. You turned to see a terrified-looking Rowley at the other side. Rodrick gained his bearings again. 
“Oh you’re in, you little shit!” He seemed way too determined on winning this, but who were you to judge?
Him and Rowley occupied themselves with each other pretty much the whole time, as you did with Greg, until you got hit rather strongly in the back. You stopped what you were doing, which was aiming your next balloon at Greg, who was right in front of you, and turned around to see Rodrick laughing at you.
“Motherfucker-” you cursed yourself mentally for swearing in front of the kids, hoping they wouldn ‘t tell on you, and launched the balloon at him at full speed, it landing on his chest. 
“Hey!”
You played for about half an hour more until the sun set, and you decided it was best to get back inside. All three complained, and you laughed at the situation, because you supposed you did sort of sound like a mom when trying to convince them to get in, but they ended up listening.
“Okay what are we watching tonight?” You asked as you closed the front door behind you and dried your feet on the mat by the entrance.
“Oh can we watch a horror movie?” Greg asked.
“Nope, we know how that ends.”
“But we’ve changed!”
“It’s been less than a week!”
“People change!” Greg tried to plead, but you knew Mrs. Heffley wouldn’t like it if you caved in.
“No can do, Gregory. We can watch that Adam Sandler movie you wanted though.”
“With the little kid?”
“Yeah.”
“Fine.”
You were halfway through a second movie when the boys decided it was time for dessert, and you still had a little while before the Heffleys came back, so you decided you’d all bake cupcakes.
They didn’t turn out as great as you wished they would, but also weren’t half bad. They were a little flat and maybe a little toasted on the top, but were otherwise pretty edible. You covered them with some frosting and ate them as you finished the movie.
It turned out when you were done the Heffleys still hadn’t come back, so you decided to put the boys to sleep then. You came back to Ridrick looking at you at the other end of the hallway. 
“Hey,” you said, not expecting him to be there.
You stood there in silence for a few moments before he cleared his throat and started talking.
“Um do you wanna hang out? ‘Till they're back?” It was funny, with him. One moment he’d be full of confidence, flirting with you at the max, but, in a second, his entire demeanor would change and he’d look unsure, insecure to ask you anything.
You were starting to wonder if he wasn’t just being a stupid hormonal teenager and if he actually, maybe, had a little bit of a crush on you. But you wouldn’t entertain those thoughts, of course. First because you could be completely misinterpreting the situations, and second because you needed the job, and you hadn’t gotten enough of a read on his mom to know if she’d be cool with that.
Still, you did have nothing else to do but scroll through your phone as you waited. “Sure.”
“Oh! Cool. Uh, my room’s right there,” he pointed to a white door by his left, and you followed him in. It actually looked pretty cool. It was sort of exactly what you expected his room to look like, except maybe a little messier, if that was possible.
To each their own, I guess. It’s not like you were the cleanest person to ever walk the Earth. You sat down on his bed, and he opted to sit down on a beanbag just in front of you.
TIt's safe to say things were a little awkward. “Uh. So. Cool room.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
You studied the multiple posters he had glued to his walls. “Oh, The Cure. Cool.”
“Yeah. They’re not like super my style or anything. But they’re cool.”
“What would be your style?”
“I don’t know. Hard rock.”
“Huh. I don’t know. You just look like one of those guys who like rock but secretly listen to Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber or something when they’re alone.”
“What- what I would never- I don’t-” busted. 
You laughed at him as he tried to deny it. “I think it’s cool.”
He stopped. “You do?”
“Yeah. Taylor Swift’s cool.”
“Yeah uh. Girls dig that.”
“Do you really know what girls dig or do you just make random guesses?”
“I’m well-informed.”
“Oh are you? You have a girlfriend or something?” Subtle.
He scoffed. “Pfft. Yeah.”
“Uh- huh.”
He gave in. “No, I don’t.”
“Okay”
“You're a girl. What do you dig then?”
“What a romantic way to phrase that question. I guess I don’t know. Never stopped to think of it. What do you think we dig?”
“Uh. Bad boys?”
You let out a laugh. “Yeah I guess. But it depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether they’re nice to us.”
“So you want bad boys who are actually nice.”
“Yeah.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Uh. But I can be nice.”
“Who said you’re a bad boy to begin with?”
“Um rock band? Cool eyeliner?” He motioned to himself, mockingly.
“Well who do you wanna be nice for?”
“Uh. You? Obviously.”
Your smile faltered. There was the confidence making an appearance again.
“What?”
“Uh. You know. So I can uh- practice. For other... girls?”
“Right.”
“Or maybe not.”
“Okay I ‘m lost.”
“Do you wanna go out with me? ” He blurted out at rapid speed.
Okay, sudden much? “What?”
“Uh. We could… go to the movies or something? You seem to like movies.”
“Right. But as a… date?”
“Yeah.”
You thought about it. It was just a date, it’s not like his mom would get mad about a date, right?
“Sure.”
“What?”
“I said sure.”
His eyes widened, he didn’t seem to have been expecting a positive answer. “Oh! That’s cool! That's- cool.”
“Yeah. Cool.”
He began standing up. “Well, do you wanna-” In that very moment, before he could finish, the doorbell rang, and you made your way past him, running downstairs and getting the front door. 
“Y/N! How are we?”
You hoped the blush on your cheeks wasn’t as visible as it felt as you talked to her. “We’re great! Greg and Rowley are already in bed, Rodrick and I have been uh. Hanging out.”
“Oh that’s nice of him!” She turned to face her husband, who, in turn, grabbed your wrist. 
“What have you done to him? Are you some sort of witch?” He asked you.
You laughed awkwardly. “Oh it’s all him! He was showing me the posters in his room, we like the same bands!”
“Oh do you uh. Like rock too?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Well we’re taking too much of your time. Is Rodrick driving you home?”
Oh, right. Shit. He was.
“Yeah I uh, think so.”
With that, he walked into your view, holding up the van keys. He’d apparently put on shades, probably so his parents wouldn’t see he had eyeliner on.
“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Mr. Heffley asked him as he walked past them.
“It’s called fashion, dad!”
Mrs. Heffley handed you the money for the night, and you went on your way, getting into the van with Rodrick, who, by now, didn’t need the GPS to get to your place. Except he wasn’t driving to your place at all.
“What are you doing?”
“Wanted a slushie. That cool?”
“I guess.”
He stopped by a 7/11 and bought each of you a slushie and some chocolate bars, which you ate outside. The wind started to get harsher, and you crossed your arms around your chest for warmth. He caught on to that, taking his striped hoodie off and giving it to you. You looked up at him, confused.
“What?”
“You’re cold.”
“Yeah but you’ll be cold.”
“Rockstars don’t get cold.”
“You’re not a rockstar.”
“Not yet."
You raised an eyebrow at him, unamused.
"Just take it!” 
You did, and put it on. This one hung looser than the shirt you’d borrowed earlier. It did help. You tried your best to contain the smile that was insisting on forming on your lips. You knew it was dumb.
“Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, and you could see him smirk, proud of himself. “You’re so cheesy. Wouldn’t take you for it.” 
“I’m not cheesy. I’m just not an asshole.”
“You kinda are.”
“Shut up!”
You ate in silence for a bit before you decided to say what was on your mind. “Hey about that date?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t… I don’t know if we should do it.”
He tried to seem chill about it, but he looked a little hurt. “Why?”
“Well it’s not that I don’t want to! I do. For… some reason,” you added, trying to lighten up the mood. “But do you think your mom would be cool with it? I mean I don’t wanna lose this job and I don’t know if she’d really like us being alone if we’re dating.”
His face lit up. “So you’re thinking about dating me?”
Oh, you’d messed up big time now, he’d never let this go. “No! That’s not what I meant!”
“I think it is.”
“Fuck off!”
“Oh we’re using big boy words now?” He grinned.
“Shut up.”
“Well. Don’t think that should be a problem. They don’t have to know.”
“What do you mean?”
“What, do you tell your parents everything? They don’t have to know we’re dating.”
“Yeah but we’re not dating.”
“Not yet.”
“Shut up!”
“They don’t have to know we’re going on a date, then. Plus, the days you work can be like little dates.”
“Yeah except there will be two children up our asses.”
“You can manage.”
“Fine, Heffley. But if I lose my job you’ll be owing me. Like literal money.”
“Deal.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah. Cool.”
[. . .]
A/N: sometimes ur 20 pages into a diary of a wimpy kid rodrick heffley oneshot and you ask urself wtf am i doing with my life. this is the product of that. i wrote this THREE YEARS AGO WOW so i edited some of it to post it here but nothing major cause i didn't want it to lose its energy lol. btw i was in fact like. actually in high school at the time lmao. luv yall!
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virginsexgod69 · 3 months
Note
REQUEST ‼️‼️‼️
I’ve always wanted to read one where the reader is one of Hershel’s daughters (set in season 2). When Daryl and the group show up the reader won’t stop teasing Daryl and eventually he can’t take it anymore. Please make my dreams come true 😭😭🤘. (p.s virgin reader would be +50 points ;)
❝ V-Card ❞
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pairing (S2) Daryl Dixon x virgin!fem!Reader
cw loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, lowkey inexperienced daryl, but also not really?, teasing, some pining, daryl kinda being a boob man, reader being a little pervy at times
note i am so sorry i kept you waiting 32 days for this request @mygrandmaschinacabinet, i really hope you like this and thank you for your patience and kind comment on my other post!
p.s. just bc reader is hershel's daughter does not imply anything ab her appearence
~5.k words
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 Living on a farm that was fairly far from society, it was a given that you wouldn't see good looking guys too often. But being a good looking girl, the guys you didn't want were always the ones after you, and you'd always have to turn them down. When she gets older, she's gonna have to fight off boys with a stick, was something your grandma would often tease your father, Hershel, about. You laughed it off, not paying any mind to it, but boy did she end up being right. You spent a good portion of your high school years rejecting your suitors, none of which were good enough for you, and none of which you really wanted. But when you finally laid eyes on the most beautiful man you've ever seen, he happened to be one who seemed to pay you no attention. 
 Odd circumstances brought the beautiful man, whom you quickly learned was named Daryl Dixon, to your farm. Otis shot a kid, Hershel took him in to care for, and his dad's group eventually made a home on your father's land. You couldn’t help but ogle at him from your bedroom window whenever you got the chance. The way his biceps flexed whenever he worked with his arms had your virgin pussy aching to be filled by him. He was a man who you’d let do things to you that you’d let no other man before even think he had a chance of doing. 
“Not this again,” Maggie complained upon entering your room. You were perched at your window -like you have been since the group first arrived- watching Daryl skin some squirrels. No one could look as good as he did while doing such a grisly task. 
“Can you blame me? Jus’ look at him,” you replied dreamily. 
“No thanks.” 
“Whatever. You have your eye candy, I have mine.” 
“Eye candy? What’re you talkin’ about?” She asked defensively. 
“Glenn. I’ve seen the way you look at him, like he’s a piece of meat,” you teased. 
“Whatever! Do you need anythin’? I’m goin’ out on a run.” 
“With Glenn?” 
 She let out an annoyed huff and exited the room, not awaiting your response. But you didn’t need anything anyway. You went back to watching Daryl. The sweltering Georgia heat caused sweat to drench his sleeveless shirt and drip from his short, dark hair. He looked like he walked out of one of your many wet dreams. Just then, an idea popped into your head. You hurried down to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, cooling it with the scoops of ice you added. Surely this kind deed would put you on his radar. 
“Hey, Daryl,” you cheerily greeted as you approached the rugged man. He sat on a stump, now gutting the squirrels he already skinned. He grunted in response, not looking up from his work. Your smile dropped, not that it mattered, considering he wasn’t even looking at you. 
“Brought you some water. It’s pretty hot out here and I wouldn’t want ya gettin’ dehydrated,” you said as you held out the cold glass, now dripping with condensation. “Thanks.” He grabbed the glass, his fingers slightly brushing yours, sending a tingling through your spine. He threw his head back, downing the water. A small stream of water dripped down his chin, then his neck, sliding down his shirt no longer in your vision. You squeezed your thighs together. Every little thing he did drove you crazy. You felt like a victorian man who’d just seen a peek of a woman’s ankle whenever you were around Daryl. 
“You uh… Ya need somethin’?” He asked when he noticed you haven’t left yet. You froze. You didn’t need anything, but you didn’t want to leave either. 
“Jus’ came to check on ya, I guess,” you muttered. 
“ ‘M fine?” He tossed the squirrel’s guts into a bucket.��
“Well, alright. My work here is done!” You cringed as the words left your mouth. You grabbed the emptied glass and walked back into the house, chastising yourself the entire way. You wanted nothing more than to have him look at you the way other guys do, but he barely give you the time of day. 
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 The glimmer of sunbeams on your face woke you up the next morning. You glanced at the analog clock on your nightstand that read 11:36. You hopped out of bed and eagerly hurried to your window, hoping Daryl would be back from hunting or looking for that little girl or whatever else it was he did when he wasn’t in his usual spot. He was sat on that stump again, but this time he was cleaning his crossbow with that red rag he kept on him. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had  to do something. He couldn’t keep getting away with being so hot and so uninterested in you. 
 You readied yourself in the bathroom, making sure every hair was in place and every tooth was brushed. You debated putting on makeup. You had some leftover from before, but never had a reason to use it, not until now. You layered on some mascara until your lashes looked twice as long and twice as full and coated your lips with some tinted gloss. You stared into your closet debating on what you thought Daryl’d like better. Your tightest, shortest shorts and a nearly see-through tank top. 
“What’re doin’ all dolled up like that?” Your younger sister, Beth asked upon entering the kitchen. 
“Makin’ lunch for D-,” you stopped yourself, not wanting another sister catching onto your thing for Daryl, “for the group out there.” 
“Daddy doesn’t want us wastin’ all our stuff on them,” she protested. You rolled your eyes at her. She could be such a goody-two-shoes sometimes. “What he don’ know won’ hurt him.” You cut a piece of the sandwich you made and handed it to Beth. 
“Eat this and keep quiet.”  
You assembled the sandwich and a glass of lemonade on a tray and carried it over to his lone camp. He didn’t look at you until you were standing before him holding the tray of food. His eyes slowly made their way up to yours, lingering on your bare legs and exposed cleavage on their way up. You couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged the corners of your mouth at this small victory. He quickly averted his gaze and set his crossbow down. 
“Wha’s all this?” He asked, nodding his head toward the tray in your arms. 
“Made ya lunch. Figured you’d be hungry after all that huntin’ and searchin’ you been doin’,” you answered as you set down the tray. 
“Uh, thanks?” He seemed confused, but grateful nonetheless. “Of course,” you replied with a bright smile before sauntering off, swaying your hips more than usual. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you until the door closed behind you. 
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 In the days that passed, you upped the ante on your teasing. Daryl noticed. At noon almost everyday, you’d bring him lunch in risqué little outfits. Not quite skimpy, but just enough to tease him. And tease him they did. He already was too nervous to look at you, afraid he might scare you off with his gruff nature and lack of experience with women. He’d choose, instead, to catch glimpses of you when you weren’t watching. Like when you’d leave after bringing him something, or when you’d be around doing farm-work or interacting with the other members of his group. But when you started wearing those revealing outfits, it became harder for him to keep from looking at you. But when he made eye contact with you, he became so nervous and shy that he had to look away. You were the sun. He could feel your warmth, even when he couldn’t see you. You were so bright and beautiful that he felt pulled to look at you, but whenever he did, it couldn’t be for long because he’d forcibly look away, your bright smile burning his sensitive retinas. 
 Speaking of the sun, there you were. “Daryl!” You called as you ran to him. The actual sun glowed behind you, making you look even more like an angel. He was atop one of your horses ready to leave the farm to look for Sophia. He was shocked to see you since you usually weren’t up until noon. He’d know since that’s around the time he sees you watching him through your window. 
“Yeah?” He grunted. 
“Ya goin’ out to look for that little girl?” Once you were out of the sunlight, he could actually get a good look at you.  Something in him stirred when he saw you in the little dress you had on. It was a cream color with ruffles at the bottom and it gave him a good view of your breasts from his position on the horse. He quickly tore his eyes away and looked at the view ahead of him, which was nowhere near as beautiful as you. 
“I figure you’ll be gone for a bit, so I brought you a little bite to eat,” you said holding up a few muffins you made the other night wrapped in cheesecloth. 
“T-thanks,” he stuttered. Despite how frequent it was, he was always taken aback by the kindness you show him. He’s never been treated the way you treat him before and it caught him off guard. 
“Be back by dinner, okay?” It wasn’t a command, more of a hopeful question, but made his heart flutter. 
“I’ll try.” He didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep. You stood there fiddling with your dress about to say something but deciding against it each time. 
“Wha’ is it?” 
“B-be safe out there!” You blurted before scampering off. He found it odd how you could be so bold with your teasing, yet shy when it came to actually talking to him. 
  Your words echoed in his head as he searched for any sign of Carol’s lost daughter. Your request of be back by dinner, okay? motivated him to get back to the farm, despite his injuries from the horse tossing him down a cliff making it difficult for him to move. But what really stuck with him was your horrified scream when you saw Andrea shoot him. That scream haunted his dreams while he was unconscious. The terror of it being the last thing he’d hear from you was his real nightmare. So when he heard your soft “Hey,” he felt relief wash over him, despite the pain everywhere else. He blinked his dry eyes open only for the first thing for him to see being your tits. You had on a loose t-shirt with no bra underneath. He didn’t know if this was a part of your teasing or a pure mistake, but either way, his cock stirred at the sight. You leaned down further to look into his eyes. 
“How ya feelin’?” You ask, placing the back of your hand to his forehead. He tried to croak out a response, but his throat was too dry. You quickly grabbed the glass of water at his bedside and helped him drink it. 
“Better?” 
“ ‘M fine,” he said. You gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him, but were humoring him anyway. “You were injured pretty badly, Daryl,” you said as you gently stroked his hair. He caught himself before he could fully melt into your touch. In fact, he moved away from it. 
“I know, ‘m fine,” he snapped before trying to roll over, away from you. He didn’t like you seeing him like this. So weak and frail, having to depend on those around him. He didn’t see the hurt expression that took over your pretty face. But, to his luck, you didn’t let him push you away. Instead, you toed off your shoes and got into the bed beside him, facing him. He hoped to the high heavens that you couldn’t see the redness that blossomed on his face when you flashed your bright smile at him. 
“I’ll keep ya company,” you promised. 
“Don’ need no company, said ‘m fine.” He didn’t know why he was so adamant about pushing you away. The minute he realized you were in here, he brightened up. He didn’t want his sunshine to leave, but he couldn’t help the storm that was brewing inside him. 
“Well, if you really want me to leave, I’ll go.” You were almost out of the bed before his clammy hand grabbed your wrist. 
“Nah, you can stay,” he said, prompting the return of that bright smile. 
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 When you woke up, the sun was setting and Daryl’s arm was around your waist, holding you close. Your heart swelled, this was all you ever wanted, to be in Daryl’s arms. Okay, well you wanted more than just his arm around you, but small victories! You gently moved his arm off you so you could get up and get some dinner from him and yourself. 
“What were you doin’ in there?” Your father asked as soon as you stepped out of the room. He stood outside, about to come in, holding a tray of food for the bowman. 
“Nothin’, Daddy, I was jus’ checkin up on our patient!” It was the truth, but it felt like a lie. 
“Since earlier this afternoon?” He pressed. 
“Lost track of time,” you explained. 
“Now, honey, I know you’re just lookin’ out for him, but-“ 
“I know, I know, you don’t really trust them, but I’m just lovin’ thy neighbor, so to speak.” You bargained. 
That response seemed to satisfy him for now. He handed you the tray of food to give you Daryl. 
“Daryl, dinner,” you called softly upon reentering the room. He groaned, but woke up anyway. He tried to sit up, but winced in pain. You set the tray down and quickly ran to his side to help him out. You adjusted his pillows and helped him to a sitting position. 
“Wha’s fer dinner?” He asked, glancing at the bowl of soup on the tray beside him on the bed. You hummed in thought before dipping your finger into the bowl and sucking it clean, making sure your lips were pouty as you did so, hoping to tease Daryl. 
“Tomato.” He hummed noncommittally before reaching for the spoon. You swatted his hand away. “Nuh uh, you’re still healing, let me feed you.” 
“I can feed myself,” he protested. You furrowed your brows and pouted at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth slightly, waiting for a bite. You smiled, scooping up some soup and spooning it into his mouth, making sure to lean forward as to give him a front row seat to the view down your shirt. You saw him avoid looking the first few times, but soon he was unable to resist taking a peek, and soon his peeking became staring (however, he pretended not to be whenever you looked back up at him). 
“Enjoy the soup?” You asked once the bowl was mostly empty. 
“S’alright,” he said as he nibbled on a cracker. You grabbed the bowl and drank the rest of the soup directly from it. 
“Goddammit!” You cursed when a glob of soup fell onto your white t-shirt. But maybe it was a blessing in disguise, a chance to drive Daryl crazy. You grabbed a random t-shirt from one of the drawers and set it down before taking off the one you had, tossing it aside. You put the new one on as if you didn't just give him a strip show. His face was beet red and he hurried to adjust the blankets on his lap. 
"Daryl, you okay? You look a little hot?" 
"S'just w-warm in here." 
"Let me jus' check your temperature." Instead of pressing the back of your hand to his forehead like before, you placed a gentle kiss to it. 
"Feels a little warm." You stayed close to his face. If he moved, even a centimeter, his lips would touch yours, which is what you were hoping for. You glanced down at his lips, then up at his blue eyes, waiting for him to lean in. Despite all this teasing, you kinda wished he'd make a move, too. When he didn't, you pulled away, kissing him on the cheek instead. 
"Get well soon, okay?" you said before taking the tray and leaving. 
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Daryl had been mentally punching himself since that night. He was an idiot for not kissing you when he had the chance. You were right there and so obviously waiting for him to do something, anything. But he couldn't. It'd been so long since he'd done anything with a woman, and even then, he didn't think he was any good. He was almost embarrassed about how inexperienced he was at his age. And someone as beautiful as you obviously would have some experience, so why waste time on him. He didn't want to be the cloud that dulled your shine. 
 He was now well enough to be released from Hershel’s care, but not well enough to resume about his usual ways. He’d normally disobey orders to take it easy, but when you made him promise to rest, he couldn’t break it. Subconsciously, he glanced over to your window. It wasn’t something he did often, considering you were usually the one watching him, but you were weighing heavily on his mind. He saw you up in your room, assuming you’d just woken up since it was almost noon. You were at your window, rummaging through your dresser -he knew where it was when he caught a glimpse of your room when he was inside the house. You held up a few shirts, probably deciding on which to wear, before pulling your pajama shirt off over your head. This was now the second, no, third time he’s gotten a perfect view of your tits. God they would feel so good in his hands, better yet, they’d look so good  bouncing in unison with his thrusts as he fucked you into your mattress. Your teasing and mischievous ways only fueled his fantasies, causing his pants to tighten uncomfortably. The little wave you gave him from your window pulled him out of his own head. You, still topless, blew him a kiss before stepping out of frame. 
 His heart rate increased expeditiously as he nearly came in his pants. He couldn’t handle your teasing anymore, it was driving him crazy. He wanted you, not just the fantasies in his head and the company of his hand. He wanted to feel your walls squeeze his cock, hear your little moans as he pleasured you until your mind went numb, become one with you as you came in unison. He hurried into his tent and zipped it all the way up before collapsing onto his sleeping bag and hurrying to undo his pants. He liberated his aching cock from its confines and spat on his hand. He rubbed himself up and down, from base to tip, imagining it was your pretty mouth swallowing him whole. He ignored the sound of distant footsteps approaching his tent and instead chased his climax, which was coming embarrassingly fast. 
“Daryl?” Your distant voice called, but all he heard in his mind was you moaning his name as your nails scratched down his back. 
“You in here?” You asked. Daryl came in his hand, taking extra care to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from his mouth. Reality set in when he saw your shadow standing outside his tent. He quickly wiped his hand off on the closest piece of fabric and shoved himself back in his pants. 
“Need somethin’? He asked. He willed you not to notice his flushed, sweaty face. 
“Watcha doin’ in there?” You asked, trying to peek into his tent. He moved to block your vision. He didn’t need you finding any trace of his earlier activity. Although, the little dress you had on had him ready to continue said activities.
“Nothin’.” 
“Anyway, I came to check on you, make sure you’re takin’ it easy.” 
“I am, was jus’ takin’ a nap,” he lied. 
“Then why are you so red? And sweaty? Are you comin’ down with somethin’?!” You were starting to sound worried, making Daryl feel guilty. You reached up to feel his forehead and check for a fever, but he stepped back, avoiding your touch. If he felt your skin on his, in any capacity, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back anymore. 
“Daryl, don’t be so stubborn!” You stepped closer only for him to step back again. 
“Ain’ got no fever, girl! S’just hot out here!” He insisted. 
“Don’ know that for sure. If it is one, it could mean one of your wounds is infected.” 
“S’not a fever, ‘m sweaty from workin’ out.” You looked at him with an eyebrow skeptically raised and a hand on your hip. So much for takin’ a nap, you thought. Your eyes traveled down his body before meeting his again, this time with look more mischievous than usual in your eyes. 
“Your fly’s down.” He quickly zipped it up, cursing himself for the dumb mistake. 
“Anythin’ to do with your ‘work out’?” 
“Dunno what yer gettin’ at.” His heart was beating faster in his chest, this time because of anxiety. You were onto him and he was about to get caught, humiliated under your scrutinizing gaze.
“Flushed, sweaty face.” You took a step closer and he took one back. “Dilated pupils.” Another step forward and another one back. “Unzipped fly.” He stepped back, not looking where he was going and stumbled onto the grassy ground. You sat down next to him. “Took forever to open your tent.” Your face split into a grin like the Cheshire Cat.   “I’d say you were in there masturbatin’.” He stumbled over his words, looking for what to say in denial of your observation accusation. You pressed your pointer finger to his lips. 
“Shh, it’s okay.” You leaned over him and slid your hand down his chest. “I touch myself, too.” His sparkling blue eyes went wide. “Usually thinkin’ ‘bout you when I do it.” You could feel his breathing change as you slid your hand further down his toned stomach. “Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?” His face was beet read and breathing shallow. You had him and he was more than ready, willing, and able to give in. He nodded his head, confirming your suspicions. 
“Well, next time I’m on your mind,” you leaned down, lips ghosting his parted ones, “don’t just settle for your hand.” His lips finally met yours in a heated kiss. The built up tension from his days of pining and yours of teasing finally being released in that kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss, slipping your tongue inside and drinking in all his pleasured groans. 
“Wanna go back to my room?” You asked after pulling away. 
“Nah, too far. Let’s go inside my tent.” You happily agreed and hurried inside, zipping it up behind Daryl. His mouth was back on yours in an instant, passionately exploring it with his tongue. He kissed his way down to your neck, roughly sucking marks. 
“Oh, Daryl!” You shouted when he reached a certain spot on your neck, just beneath your ear. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Nervously, Daryl’s hand experimented with touching your body, his hands firmly gripping your hips. They were comfortable there and not daring enough to try anything else. He wanted to impress you, but at the same time he didn’t want you to notice that he had no clue what he was doing or what to do next, using the pirated porn and one night stands of his past as reference. Your hands grabbed his and placed them on your tits. 
“Touch me, Daryl!” You whined. His hands groped and kneaded at the soft mounds of flesh hidden behind the thin fabric of your dress. He pulled down the front of your dress, freeing your tits then recapturing one by putting it in his mouth. His large hand toyed with the right while his mouth suckled the other. Your little wanton whimpers egged him on, giving him the confidence to try more. Your squirmed beneath him, squeezing your thighs together. His cock was also painfully hard, once again, and yearning to feel your warm walls around him. He pulled away and undid his pants before pulling out his cock, stroking it a few times. He looked up at you, but you looked less excited. Your eyes wouldn’t meet his and your arms were crossed over your chest, hiding yourself from him. 
“Wha’s the matter, Sunshine?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue naturally. He was more than excited to sleep with you, but his worry regarding your sudden change outweighed that. 
“N-nothin’. Jus’ put it in,” you said hoarsely. 
“Nah, we ain’ doin’ nothin’ unless ya tell me wha’s wrong.” It sounded harsh, but it came from a place of genuine concern. 
You sat up, readjusting your dress as you did so. “I-it’s jus’,” you nervously fiddled with the hem of your dress, something Daryl noticed you did a lot around him. “C-can we go slow? I haven’t done any of this stuff before,” you admitted. 
“You a virgin?” He asked, astonished. You glumly nodded your head as if you were accepting defeat. In a twisted way, that relieved him a bit. Maybe since you’ve never had sex, you wouldn’t notice his own lack of experience.  He put himself in his boxers before patting the spot in front of him. You crawled over to him and sat between his legs, your back against his chest. His lips found that spot on your neck again and began sucking there as his hand slid underneath your panties. He rubbed your clit in tight circles, causing your thighs to clamp shut over his hand. 
“Jus’ relax,” he coaxed. You relaxed the best you could, but the pleasure kept you from staying still. 
“F-faster,” you whimpered. He obeyed your command, rubbing you at a quicker pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder and you moaned in his ear. His other hand slipped beneath your panties and gathered your arousal on his finger, before he slowly slid it inside you, giving you time to adjust. He pumped it in and out of you as he continued to rub your clit. Your back arched off him as you moaned his name. He easily slipped in a second finger with how wet you were. Your velvety walls were so soft around his thick digits. He couldn’t wait to feel them with his cock. He moved his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting you in a spot that had you babbling nonsense. You squeezed his fingers with your soaking cunt as your first orgasm overtook your body. 
“Daryl, I’m ready. Need ta feel ya inside me,” you slurred. He helped you lay down on your back and slid your panties off before pulling his painfully hard cock out again. Your legs rested over his thighs as he coated his member in your juices before lining it up with your entrance. He slid in as slowly as he could, making sure this would be as painless as it could be for you. You were so soft, slippery, and smooth around him, the best pussy he’s ever had. Once he was all the way in, he stopped to give you time to adjust. He leaned down and connected your lips in another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled held him close. 
“You can move now.” His hands gripped your hips as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you, not wanting to give you too much too soon. His pleasured grunts mingled with your moans as he slid in and out of you. 
“More, need more!” You whined. He adjusted your position, placing your legs over his broad shoulders. The new position allowed him to fill you even better. As he pounded in and out of you, the erotic sounds of damp skin slapping damp skin filled the tent, harmonizing with his and your sounds of pleasure. He lifted your dress over your head, getting rid of the barrier between you and him, and tossed it aside. His own fantasies came true as he watched your tits bounce in unison with his thrusts. He took them in his hands again, rolling your nipples between his finger and thumb, bringing you closer to your climax. 
“Daryl I think I’ma-” Your sentence trailed off into a moan as you came around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm as his own approached. He pulled out of you just as he was about to finish and came all over your tits and stomach, like a firehose. You let out a satisfied hum, barely able to keep your eyes open. He grabbed one of his discarded shirts and cleaned you off before laying beside you in the sleeping bag. You rolled over to face him and hugged him close in your arms. 
“You were the best first I coulda asked for,” you confessed. Your words soothed his worries that he didn’t perform well enough while also making his heart flutter.
“Guess all yer teasin’ paid off.” You giggled against his chest. 
 He pulled you closer to him and pulled you in for another kiss, a sweeter, gentler one this time. You dozed off in his comforting arms, wishing you’d never have to leave. 
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i proofread it, yaaay! anyway, thanks for reading! <3
i wrote this instead of doing my homework, mwahahahah >=]
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hedgehog-moss · 1 year
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Welcome everyone, please join us on Baby Poldine’s First Hike! This is going to be a long post because lots of nothings happened :)
Our short-term goal was making it all the way to the torrent without Poldine getting so stressed about being away from her family that we had to turn back.
Our long-term goal: finally having a picnic-carrying llama to accompany us on hikes, which isn’t something I’ve been able to achieve with Pampe because she’s Pampe, nor with Mama Pampy because she’s the matriarch and dislikes leaving her herd behind. (Is there a collective noun? a misdemeanour of llamas? or is it just herd?)
Emotional support cats were recruited to make things less stressful for Poldine. I had to interrupt their afternoon nap on the couch and carry them to the pasture one after the other, and they just lay there looking a bit bewildered, like can we resume our nap or...? But once they saw us dragging Poldine away into the woods they all got curious and followed.
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The llamas were a bit suspicious of these shenanigans and started retreating when I carried the second cat outside, so I sent my friend to the greenhouse to get some strawberries, which immediately brought the llamas back.
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Although Poldine took one bite of her strawberry and then refused to eat any more of it, because she’s still a baby who only likes familiar foods. (Her grandma volunteered to eat the rest of the half-bitten strawberry.)
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One thing we discovered about Pampoldine as we started the hike is that she gets very worried about being a lone llama when we stand still, but she looks reassured as soon as we resume walking. I think us walking decidedly while holding her rope makes her feel like she has a confident leader, while seeing us stop for any reason makes her panic like oh my god, you have no idea what you’re doing and which way to go, do you?
She occasionally tried to rebel and go back in the direction of her pasture, and in these moments all we had to do was grab the nearest cat and toss it in front of her. She would immediately pounce, enchanted, to try and kiss it; the cat would dart away like no thanks!! and Poldine would follow, and off we went again.
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Another thing we discovered about Poldine is that she is a compulsive cheek-kisser when stressed. As long as there is someone to nuzzle, the situation can’t be completely hopeless. So we had to accept a lot of kisses.
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As you can see, we made it to the torrent! It took a bit of patient coaxing to get her to go in the water (I think she was wary of stepping on the round slippery pebbles) but once she went in she looked intrigued and delighted. She was stomping her little feet to make splashes, and wading about, we actually had trouble convincing her to leave!
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For some reason she was more reluctant to follow us on the way back. Maybe once all the excitement of splashing in the stream died down, she suddenly remembered that she was alone far from her pasture and family and got stressed again. We once again tried the method that consists in throwing cats in front of us every now and then, like leaving a trail of bread crumbs behind you except the opposite and with cats. (Note that the cats had the option to flee from this disgraceful treatment any time.) Merricat and Mascarille were talented bait, often leading the way of their own initiative, but Morille complicated things by being a big baby who’d stop dead and start screaming whenever she came across any amount of water. Then we had to carry her across so she wouldn’t get her paws wet.
Pictured below: me, a llama, two cats, then a rivulet (where the mossy rocks are) and Morille lagging behind and screaming pitifully, waiting for a kind soul to carry her.
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We made it to the pine area of the woods and Poldine started walking a lot more cheerfully, and sniffing the air with an eager little nose, which was strange because we were still quite far from her pasture so it wasn’t home or other llamas she could smell. We wondered if perhaps she enjoyed the smell of pine resin (it does smell wonderful on warm days!), but then we left the pine woods and entered the hazel woods and she was looking even happier and walking even faster, and then we realised. We were being followed and had been for a while.
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Look at her smug little face. (It turns out she escaped because I forgot to tell my friend one of the pasture gates has a latch with an anti-Pampe dual safety system.) Ah, well, it wouldn’t be a proper llama post without Pampérigouste showing up somewhere she’s not supposed to be. She was being so discreet stalking us from afar behind a curtain of trees, we wondered if she’d been following us from the beginning. I hope not, because this small torrent ends up in the Atlantic Ocean and nothing good can come from Pampe discovering how to reach other continents.
Pampe stayed with Poldine long enough to make it look like she’d escaped out of concern for her daughter and not to find out where running water is so she can one day sail to freedom, then she left to have more adventures by herself, completely indifferent to Poldine’s little “mummy, stay :( ” baby goat cries.
Morille and Mascarille also deserted us (it looked like Pampe had promised them a more exciting hike) but thankfully we hadn’t run out of cats, and were able to go home at a decent pace thanks to Merricat, professional llama bait.
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All things considered it was a very successful hike! I’m glad Poldine enjoyed the water—now I want to take her to the spots that have a series of little waterfalls, see what she’d make of them :) Or even to the deeper pool you can swim in, who knows, maybe she’ll dive in! Throwing a cat in the water to encourage her would help a lot but I probably won’t do that. They’re very helpful cats who didn’t complain about being tossed ahead like petanque balls to show Poldine the way, but I don’t want to push my luck.
(I regrettably don’t have a picture of this but sometimes when I stopped walking, Poldine would rest her head on my shoulder like “...well? are we lost?” with her little bunny ears tapping the side of my head inquisitively and it was really cute.)
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munson-blurbs · 1 year
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
Summary: It's finally time for your coffee date with Eddie, leading the two of you to fall even harder for each other.
Warnings: brief mention of drug dealing, Reader's grandma has dementia, character death
WC: 6.5k
Chapter 9/20
Divider credit to @saradika
The lime green numbers of the microwave clock reads 11:57, which means that Eddie will be here any minute. You drag your palms on the thighs of your boot-cut jeans, triple-checking that your perspiration hasn’t left a visible stain on the light-wash fabric.
“Okay, her lunch is in the fridge. And the number of the coffee shop is on the counter,” you tell Jess, pointing to the scrap of notebook paper in front of her. “If you need something, just call, and I’ll come home.”
Jess waves away your concern with a kind smile. She’d been pleading with you to get out there and date for ages now, and she was just glad you’d finally taken her advice. Though, you note wryly, she would not be happy if she knew who that date was.
“We’ll be fine,” she reassures you, bracing a hand on your shoulder. “If anything, we’ll need to check on you. Who is this mystery date, anyway?” 
“Just a guy,” you say, trying to remain light and casual while simultaneously fighting down the barrage of nerves in your stomach.
Jess takes a step back, wrinkling her nose and crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, God, it’s not one of those creeps from a dating hotline, is it? Because I’ve never heard of one of those that didn’t end up on 48 Hours.”
“No, no, don’t worry,” you shake your head, spotting a piece of lint on your cable knit sweater and plucking it off carefully. You flick it off of your finger, silently berating yourself when you remember that you’ll have to vacuum it later. “It’s a guy from around here.”
Your friend wipes imaginary sweat from her brow as the buzzer rings. You race to the intercom to let him in before he can say anything, but your reflexes are too slow.
“Hey, it’s me.” The sound of his voice has your body pulsing, an eager grin tugging at your lips despite your intentions to keep calm. His slight rasp has you craving the sting of tobacco just to flatten your nerves.
You clear your throat before speaking. “Okay, I’ll be right down.” Grabbing your jacket from where you’ve haphazardly thrown it over the back of the couch, you’ve almost made it to the door, when—
“No. No.” You cringe at the way Jess’s words bite into your excitement. “Please tell me that your date is not Eddie Munson.” You can only offer her a sheepish grin, and she rolls her eyes. “Seriously?!”
You huff out a sigh, both impatient to go on the date and flustered at being caught. “Look, he’s changed. A lot.”
“Oh, you mean he stopped calling you a bitch and making shitty comments about your grandma?” Jess snorts. “How chivalrous.”
There’s no time to explain everything that’s happened, so you simply say, “I’ll be back in two hours,” before closing the door behind you, making sure that it latches before you start down the hallway. 
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Eddie is waiting in the tiny lobby. He’s leaned up against the double doors, tapping one Reebok-clad foot and examining his fingernails anxiously. A memory crashes over you; one where his nails are painted jet black, though there hasn’t been any polish on them in some time. 
He smiles as soon as he spots you, standing up straighter and walking to meet you before you can get to the door. “Hey,” he says softly, letting his hand brush yours as he kisses your cheek. 
“Hey, yourself.” You want to kiss him back, but not on his cheek. Your lips yearn to crash against his once more; this time, anchored in belonging rather than lust. Instead, you manage a compliment. “You clean up nice.”
It’s the truth. His gray jeans are free of any holes, sometimes intentional but often the result of overwearing. The sleeves of his red sweater are pushed up slightly, exposing the litany of tattoos on his arms, and it occurs to you that you want to know each of their origins. 
“Can’t lie, Harris helped pick out my clothes today,” he admits. “He caught me trying to figure out what to wear and we finally agreed on this.” He sweeps a hand down his side to emphasize his point. 
“Was the ponytail his idea, too?” His curls are pulled back and rest at the nape of his neck. 
Eddie shakes his head with a laugh as his cheeks tinge pink. “Nah, that was all me.” He pauses, gaze briefly landing on your mouth before his eyes are drawn back to yours. “You’re…you’re beautiful.”
You try to shrug off the compliment, still caught off-guard by his kindness. You wonder when—or if—that unease will dissipate. “I think you’re just used to seeing me with Play-Doh stuck to my shirt,” you tease, but he doesn’t break his trance. 
“You’re always beautiful.” The sincerity of his statement clings to a silence that should be awkward, but is somehow comforting. After a few seconds, he clears his throat, lifting the fog of budding romance that clouds the lobby. “Let’s go get some coffee, yeah?”
Eddie takes your hand in his when you nod, leading you to his car and opening the passenger door for you. He sweeps his hand in the direction of the seat, and you giggle.
“Such a gentleman.”
He doesn’t divulge that Wayne reminded him to open doors for you when he’d come over to the apartment for dinner last night, or that the older man had slipped him a crumpled ten dollar bill and whispered, “get her something to eat, too,” punctuating his statement with a wink.
His left leg bounces as he starts the engine and he grates his teeth over his lower lip. He doesn’t even realize that he’s doing either of these things until you timidly rest a hand on his right knee and ask, “You okay?”
“Mhm,” he mumbles, gliding the gear shift from ‘park’ to ‘reverse’ as he backs out of his spot. “Just, uh, been a long time since I’ve gone on a date.” And never with someone so goddamn perfect, he wants to add, but he’s stopped by the fear of coming on too strong.
You graze your thumb over the gray denim and smile at him. “Well, you’re doing great so far.”
“Yeah?” Eddie grins at your reassurance, the soft dimples at the corners of his mouth deepening. 
“Yeah.”
He turns on the radio with a slight snap of his wrist, shifting the skull ring that wraps around his middle finger. A metal song comes on that you don’t recognize, drumbeats thumping through the old speakers. Eddie winces, nudging the volume down so he can hear himself speak over the impending guitar solo. “You can change it to something you like better.”
“Nah, this is fine,” you shake your head. “Kinda warming up to heavier music since someone gave me a Guns ‘N Roses tape.”
Eddie’s eyebrows brush the edge of his tousled bangs in surprise. “You really listen to it?”
“All the time,” you confirm truthfully. It’s quickly become one of your favorites; each time you play it, you’re reminded of Harris dressed as a miniature Axl Rose, drawing a picture of you and Eddie holding hands. Not to mention the way that Eddie adoringly gazed at you while you calmed his son down, quickly throwing together an art project and saving the day.
“How’s Grandma?” he asks now, pressing on the brake as he approaches a stop sign.
“Same as always. Her aid had to take her to the hospital the other day because she fell, and she’s been losing more language.” You try to play it off like it doesn’t bother you, but your heart pangs as you speak. When she was initially diagnosed, you’d known that she’d forget who people were, but you hadn’t realized that she would eventually forget how to talk. “Good news is, she hasn’t lost her appetite for Oreos. I have to keep the package you brought over hidden away so she doesn’t eat them all.”
Eddie laughs at this. “Told you; there’s nothing Oreos can’t fix.” He pulls into the cafe parking lot and snags the first available spot he sees. “I really am sorry that you have to see that, though. It can’t be easy.”
You keep your eyes trained on the dashboard, knowing that you’ll tear up if you catch a glance of his sympathetic expression. “‘S just par for the course with dementia, I guess.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything else–he isn’t sure what to say–as he kills the engine. He clicks off his seatbelt to scramble to your door, but it gets snagged in the crook of his elbow, yanking him back.
“Jesus, shit,” he grumbles, untangling himself from the trap he’d inadvertently created. “Don’t move; I’m not done being a gentleman.”
You put your hands up in surrender, watching as he walks to your side and opens the door. “Wow, that was such a surprising gesture,” you mock him, letting out a breathless scoff when he flips you the bird. “Giving me the middle finger kinda negates the whole ‘gentleman’ thing, dontcha think?”
Eddie pretends to consider this, crossing his arms over his chest while shifting his weight to one leg, bringing his hand to his freshly-shaved chin. “Mm, nope.” He helps you out of the seat, still not letting go of your hand once you’re standing next to his car. He holds it tighter, so you can feel every etch of the lifelines across his palm.
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The mouth-watering scent of warm pastries and freshly brewed coffee swirls throughout the cafe, wafting to your nose as soon as you open the door. Or, more precisely, as soon as Eddie opens the door for you. You assume he’ll slip his fingers back through yours after you’re both inside, but he hesitates before letting his palm hover on the small of your back. You can barely feel the pads of his fingertips through your thick sweater, but as soon as you give him a smile, he allows himself to hold you a bit closer.
A chipper, twenty-something barista whose name tag reads Stephanie greets you as you approach the counter. “Hi! What can I get you folks?” 
Eddie nudges you to place your order, which you give with a polite smile. “Just a coffee with room for milk,” you tell her. 
You turn to Eddie so he can give his order, but he says softly, “Get something to eat, too.” He points to the display of baked goods before you, and you peer into the case. The prices are listed next to each item, and you furrow your brow at the $2 brownie. 
“Oh, s’okay,” you murmur, trying to play it off. The last thing you need is for Eddie to think you’re pitying him, which, okay, maybe you are. He just doesn’t have to know that. “You can get something, though.”
He shakes his head with a grin. “I’m not falling for that trick, Sweetheart.” It’s odd to hear the nickname without the prefix Ms. in front of it, or without a sneer in his voice. It’s kind, comforting, dare you even venture…a term of endearment? “You tell me you don’t want anything, and then you end up eating half of what I pick. Nope, you’re getting your own.”
“Fine, fine,” you roll your eyes playfully, eventually settling on a blueberry muffin. Eddie’s coffee order is the same as yours, but he gets a chocolate chunk cookie with his. He digs into his back pocket for his wallet, worn and frayed around the edges, and pulls out a ten-dollar bill, leaving a remaining dollar in the colorful jar marked ‘Tips’.
You grab the plated pastries and Eddie shuffles behind with the coffee mugs, gently placing them on the counter next to the silver thermoses and baskets of sugar packets. You pour a bit of milk into yours, watching in amusement as Eddie dumps some of the coffee into the trashcan, filling the mug with half & half and tearing open three Domino packets. 
“You want some coffee with that sugar bomb?” you gently tease, and he flicks your shoulder with a dramatic pout on his lips. 
“I’d rather this than whatever bitter concoction you’re drinking,” he retorts, taking an exaggerated sip from his mug and punctuating it with an aaaahhh. 
You roll your eyes. “You really should be grateful that I like bitter things. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t like you.” Your response earns you another flick to the shoulder before Eddie brings the drinks to a table tucked away in the corner. 
You set the cookie in front of him and the muffin at your spot across from him, pulling a crumb from the side and popping it in your mouth. The sweetness of the pastry with the slightly sour berry is heaven on your tongue. 
“‘S good?” Eddie asks, smiling brightly when you nod your head. “Wanna try a bite of mine?” He breaks off a piece, and a smattering of crumbs fall to the table. You expect him to place the piece in your hand; instead, he leans over and brings it to your lips. His fingertips brush against them, parting them ever-so-slightly. An electric buzz hums down your spine, and you wonder if he feels it, too. 
You’re careful not to let your tongue graze his fingers as you take the chocolate-flecked dessert into your mouth. Eddie, however, is in no rush. He lingers, slowly moving the rough pads of his fingers across your soft lips. In doing so, he wipes away rogue remnants of the cookie he just fed you, though you strongly doubt that that was his intention. 
“Here, try mine.” You pinch off a piece of the muffin, a bit bigger than the piece you took for yourself, and bring it to him. His lips close around the very tips of your thumb and forefinger where you’re holding the bite of muffin. You feel the brief flicker of his tongue, gone before you can even process it, taking the muffin piece with it. 
“Not bad,” Eddie says with a grin. “I don’t usually like fruit in my dessert, but I’d make an exception for that. Could definitely use some more chocolate, though.” As if to illustrate his sentiment, he takes a comically large bite of his cookie. 
“One of these days, I’ll get you to eat a vegetable.” You mean it as a joke, a ribbing towards his poor eating habits, but it implies that you’ll stick around. That you care about him. You’re unclear about how he interpreted your statement, so you quickly change the subject before he can think about it. “I do have a question for you. Completely unrelated to the lack of nutrients in your diet.”
Eddie ignores the teasing jab and takes another bite of cookie. “Shoot.”
“The, uh, lock-picking kit,” you start, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your nerves calm. “Do you just keep them laying around?” You hate the idea of him using it to commit break-ins. If that was the truth, would he even admit it to you?
But Eddie just laughs, sipping his barely-coffee with a knowing smirk. “When Harris was about two, Wayne was watching him. He left for a second to grab the mail and the little stinker locked him out.”
“Out of the trailer?!” you ask incredulously, jaw dropping in shock.
“Out of the trailer,” Eddie confirms, shaking his head as though he still can’t believe it himself. “So, yeah. Ever since that happened, I’ve kept a lock-picking kit in my car.” He takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a gaze that makes your heart skip a beat. He drums his fingertips on the table as he says, “Tell me about you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you,” Eddie accentuates his request with a quick poke of your hand before returning his grip to the mug handle. “Like, how did you end up being the one schlepping out to Hawkins to take care of Grandma?”
You shrug and bring the hot cup to your lips, letting the steam tickle your nose before you drink. “She and I were always really close, and teaching is a job that’s everywhere. It was just easier for me to pick up and move, I guess.”
Eddie pauses, nodding as he considers his next question. He rubs his palm back and forth on the side of his mug; there’s an air of nervousness around him. “Tell me about her. Grandma, I mean. Like, how she was before she got sick.”
“Where do I start?” It’s strange, you think, the way memories work. Sometimes it seems like the more Grandma forgets, the more you remember. You’ll just be lesson planning, or hurriedly making photocopies at work, or heating up leftovers in the microwave, and a memory will crash over you. Suddenly, you’re plucked from reality and transported to Benny’s Diner where you and she used to split a giant stack of pancakes. Or to the shoe store where she’d buy you a new pair of sneakers every August before the start of the new school year. “She just loved taking care of people. Cooking for them or cheering them up. She wasn’t the type of person to tell you to stop crying when you’d get upset, y’know? She’d sit there with you, rub your back, and let you get all the tears out.” You muster a wistful smile in a paltry attempt to hide the shame blooming in your chest. “It’s all so fucked, the way I talk about her like she’s gone when she’s still here.”
 “No.” Eddie’s voice is soft yet adamant. “I don’t think it’s fucked at all. Because, I dunno, it’s like she’s not here, in a way. Physically, yeah; but almost like…” He stops himself to avoid speaking out of turn and making a fool of himself.
“Like she’s a shell of who she used to be,” you finish for him, and relief floods his body when you understand the point he’s trying to make.
He nods. “Exactly.” He smooths his ponytail reflexively. “I think you’re a lot like her. How she was, anyway. The way you’re always looking out for people, like…let’s say…a bitter wannabe rockstar and his adorable yet mischievous son?”
“That’s the best compliment I’ve gotten in a long time.” It’s all you want, really–to spread joy and kindness to others, filling in gaps that have remained empty for so long that they seemingly go unnoticed. “Maybe ever, actually.”
Good, Eddie wants to say. He wants to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, each one kinder than the last, until you’re utterly flustered. Instead, he abruptly changes the subject and asks, “What made you wanna be a teacher?”
This is a much easier question for you to answer. “I just love seeing kids learn,” you beam. “Being able to do things they couldn’t do before; things they never thought they’d be able to do.”
He returns your smile easily; something about hearing you speak about your profession with such gratification has him buzzing.“Speaking of which,” he says, sneaking a mouthful of cookie between words, “I took Harris to the supermarket yesterday. And when we passed by the seafood section, he points to a sign, sounds out cuh-ahh-d, and goes, ��that says cod!’”
“That’s incredible! Look at our little reader go!” You could jump out of your seat with excitement, held back only by the desire to not go overboard in your display of enthusiasm.
Eddie nods in agreement. “I was so proud, I damn near bought all of the candy in the store.” He cocks his head, amusement tugging the corners of his lips upwards. “Any idea where he learned how to read like that?”
“Not a clue.” You try to force a deadpan expression to reinforce the sarcasm in your remark, but your happiness betrays you in the form of a giggle. You clap a hand over your mouth, but he reaches out to pull it down, keeping your fingers clasped with his.
He strokes his thumb over your knuckles, watching the digit sweep back and forth for a moment. “You really are pretty, y’know.” The admission feels like a weight has been both removed from and added to his shoulders. Now you know how he feels, but now you know how he feels.
You, meanwhile, are far less fixated on his vulnerability and focus instead on his phrasing. The opportunity has presented itself so perfectly, and you have to seize it.
“Like a princess?” Your eyes gleam with playfulness.
“Wha–oh, Christ.” Eddie’s features shift from confusion to embarrassment over the span of a second. “What did that kid tell you?”
“Not a lot,” you say nonchalantly, taking an innocent swig of coffee. It’s cooled down considerably, but you’ve never been one to let a drop of caffeine go to waste. “Just that you think I’m ‘pretty like a princess.’”
Eddie uses his free hand to rub his eyes, swiping his thumb and forefinger across the lids. “What a little snitch.”
“It’s true, then?” You perch your chin in your hand, batting your eyelashes and reveling in his awkwardness. His cheeks flush red and a nervous chuckle splices the silence between you.
“To be fair,” he finally counters, trying to gather his thoughts before they scatter again, “I was asked if I thought you were pretty like a princess. I didn’t, like, come up with that on my own.”
You purse your lips into a pout, feigning disappointment. “So you don’t think I’m pretty like a princess?”
“N-No, you are!” He takes a deep breath and composes himself as he notices you trying to hold in your laughter. “All right, which would you prefer? We talking trading your fins for legs or losing your glass slipper at a ball?”
“Neither,” you chide, scratching at the base of your neck absentmindedly. “More like…bookworm who rescues people in need no matter what the personal cost and captures the heart of the town outcast.” You hope that he doesn’t take offense to that last part, as true as it might be.
“So…Belle?” Eddie chuckles when you raise your eyebrows at him. “What? I have a little ankle biter, I know Disney movies.”
“Harris would never bite your ankles,” you scoff, grinning at the mere thought of the littlest Munson gnawing at the bottom of his dad’s legs mid-tantrum. “He’d just lock you out of the house until he gets what he wants.”
Eddie lifts his half-drank cup of coffee. “I’ll drink to that,” he agrees, and you gently knock your mug into his. The porcelain rims make a slight clink as they touch, echoes muffled by the chipped edges.
“So,” you start, allowing yourself to swim in his deep brown eyes for a beautiful moment before you pivot the conversation. “Why did you move to Chicago? Why not, like, LA or New York?”
He shrugs, wiping the residue of a coffee mustache from his upper lip. “Guess I wanted to stay kinda close to home. In case something happened to Wayne, or the music thing didn’t work out, or,” he smiles wryly, “if I knocked up a groupie and needed help raising a newborn.” 
You press your lips together to stifle a giggle of your own, careful not to smudge whatever’s left of the lipstick you meticulously applied earlier. “So you moved back after Harris was born?”
“Yeah, when he was about…” Eddie silently does the math in his head, “a month old? Six weeks, maybe? When I realized that the whole ‘parenting’ thing is a hell of a lot harder than I thought. Especially doing it alone.” He drops his voice to a whisper as though he’s about to divulge a great secret. “Did you know that babies wake up, like, every half hour?”
“You don’t say?” Sarcasm is thickly woven into your tone. “Tell me more, Dr. Spock.”
Eddie snatches the muffin from your plate and takes an unprompted bite in retaliation. He chews like a cow on cud, slow and deliberate, relishing in his baked good thievery. You watch, unblinking, as a smirk crosses his face. “All right, smartass,” he snorts once he finally swallows, “not all of us specialize in taking care of kids.” He breaks off a hunk of his cookie and leaves it on your plate, a delicious peace offering that you gladly accept. “Anyway, Wayne let us stay with him until I found a place. Took a while to build up some funds, but I finally managed.”
“Where were you working?”
His face blanches at your question, and he finds himself inclined to bunch the paper napkin into a ball and shove it in his mouth to avoid answering. “Wh-What?”
“You said you had to build up some funds,” you explain, as though it were a convoluted construct. “Were you at the music store back then?”
“Oh, um. No.” Quicksand. Volcano eruption. A piano falling from the sky like in a classic Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote showdown. Eddie would’ve taken any of these options over giving you an answer. “I went back to my old high school gig of, uh, dealing.” His cheeks are beet red, the heat radiating from them is the only distraction from the shame curdling in his lungs. 
He keeps his eyes on the floor; to his surprise, your feet remain planted on the ground. You’re not leaving. “Oh.” Your voice draws him back to reality. “But you don’t…”
“Nope.” Eddie shakes his head. “I’m totally done with that scene. It’s just minimum wage, on-the-books bullshit for me now. I even pay taxes.” He laughs when you roll your eyes. “Although…the manager is transferring to another store soon.”
You slam your hands on the table in excitement, eyes alight with joy at this new opportunity for him. “Eddie, you have to apply!” Your eagerness fades when you notice the frown on his face. Shit, did he think you were telling him what to do? “I’m sorry if–”
“Nah, you’re good.” He bites his thumbnail without thinking, withdrawing it from between his front teeth when he sees you watching him. “‘S not like I haven’t considered it. Just feels like…if I do that, I’m officially giving up on the whole rockstar dream. Like I’m closing that chapter of my life.”
This time, you’re the one who holds onto him. His palm is pressed flat on the Formica table, and you bring your fingers underneath it to scoop his hand into yours. You give it a quick squeeze, watching a delicate smile develop across his lips. “Is that necessarily a bad thing, though? You’re not giving up on anything; you’re just shifting your priorities to make sure that Harris is always number one.” He nods halfheartedly, but you continue. “And you can always get back into music, find another band, or…maybe even make up with the Corroded Coffin guys?”
Eddie sighs, taking a strand of hair that’s fallen from its rubber band enclosure and tucking it behind his right ear. “Yeah. Maybe.” He doesn’t quite believe it; not after the terrible things he said to Jeff. Not after Gareth said he doesn’t look up to him anymore. A Corroded Coffin reunion seems about as likely as Wayne becoming a Radio City Rockette. He clears his throat and shifts his gaze back to you. “This is, uh, not first date conversation.”
You laugh at this, nodding in agreement. “No, it most certainly isn’t.” You use your free hand to take a final swig of coffee, now on the cooler side of lukewarm. “But I don’t think you and I have done anything conventionally, so it seems to be par for the course.”
Eddie shifts in his seat to lean in closer. He’s heard your response, but he’s not accepting it. Just because things began backwards didn’t mean they had to continue that way. “Tell me about you,” he says. “What do you like to do for fun? Like, hobbies and stuff.”
Your mind goes blank, as though you’ve never enjoyed any activity in your life. “Hmm,” you ponder, trying to remember a moment that wasn’t spent lesson planning or breaking up big arguments between small humans or taking care of an elderly woman who couldn’t stand you half the time. “I really love to cook,” you finally manage, thinking of the hours when you and Grandma stood in her kitchen, preparing meals or snacks or baked goods to munch on.
“No shit!” Eddie blurts out, eyes widening. “I really love to eat.”
“I’ll have to cook for you sometime,” you tell him. Surprisingly, you’re not shy when you say it. The image of you standing before the stove, stirring a pot on a burner or taking a tray of roasted vegetables from the oven while Eddie and Harris set the kitchen table, warms you from the inside out. You express your love by making meals for others, just like Grandma does. Did. “Your favorite food is olives, right?”
Eddie rolls his eyes playfully, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back in his seat. He opens his legs slightly as he bites the inside of his lower lip to hide his smile. “I hate you sometimes, y’know that?”
“Yeah, I hate you, too.”
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As soon as you and Eddie step out of the little cafe hand in hand, the bitter slap of winter is all-consuming. Snow flurries flutter to the ground, melting as soon as they touch the faded green grass. The coldness of the flakes stings the tip of your nose, and you wiggle it to try to ward off the impending numbness.
Eddie breaks the connection to dig out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from one pocket and his lighter from the other. He flicks the switch a few times before it finally catches as he shields the flame from the harsh winds. As soon as it does, he tucks the lighter away and immediately re-laces his left fingers with your right, taking a long drag and offering it out to you with a grin.
“Since you’re just a social smoker and don’t keep any on you,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes. You wonder how he could possibly know this until memories of that fateful night at the Hideout come roaring back to you. You and Eddie standing outside, making painfully awkward small talk while you figured out how to initiate a sexual encounter.
You inhale, letting the tobacco mingle with the taste of coffee and muffin already saturating your tongue, and pass the cigarette back to him. It’s a slow walk to his car; the two of you take your time as you breathe in smoke and each other’s closeness. Eddie lets you kill out the cigarette, eyes never leaving your body as you stub it into a nearby ashtray.
“I have a little confession to make,” he begins, quickly amending his statement when he catches the horrified expression on your face. “No, nothing bad; I swear!” He laughs lightly when you exhale, pressing your hand to your heart in relief. “Okay, the reason I took you out for coffee is because, well, I figured if things went well, I’d know your coffee order and could bring it to you at work or something? Like when I drop Harris off in the morning.”
The early December chill dissipates at his offer. Just the thought of Eddie memorizing your coffee order, handing you the styrofoam cup with a chaste kiss to your cheek so that none of your students or co-workers can catch you, fills you with a buzzing warmth. “I’d really like that.”
“Good,” Eddie nods, stopping at his parked car. You spot Harris’s carseat in the back, reminding you of the night Eddie drove you to his place after his show. The way he tried to hide the existence of his son from you, as though it would deter you from pursuing anything further. You can’t help but wonder how many women had turned him down after learning that he’s a dad. It has to be a decent amount, a pattern that developed, for him to become so jaded and guarded over it.
His calloused thumb ghosts over your cheek, though you can hardly feel it after being exposed to the stinging air. His gaze meets yours and he holds it, chocolate orbs fueling the fire within you.
“Feels weird asking to kiss you after we’ve already…” he trails off with a chuckle, tone laced with ambivalence. The last time he’d pressed his lips to yours, he didn’t want to stop, which scared the living shit out of him. And that was under the pretense of casual sex, not intended to go any farther than a one-night stand. But now? Now he was about to kiss you after a date, after telling you that you look pretty, after admitting that planned to get you coffee in the mornings.
If he kisses you now, there’s no going back.He’s sealing the deal, opening himself up to heartbreak, the potential to be crushed when the relationship comes to a screeching halt.
But, he reminds himself silently, it also means someone to watch movies with. Someone to buy flowers–or coffee–for. Someone to hold, to touch. Someone to share stories with, from the mundane tasks of the day to big, exciting news. Someone who I could love, who could love me and my boy.
“Eddie?” Your voice breaks into his mind, overrun with racing thoughts about the good, the bad, and the ugly of falling in–
You bring your lips to his, effectively silencing his inner monologue. His right hand stays on your face as his left grips your waist to return the kiss, deepening it with a gentle prod of his tongue. It’s wanting, but not hungry, like he’s savoring every last bite of a long-time craving. He wants this, he wants you, forever. He swears he’d never let you go if he didn’t have an oversugared, overtired four-year-old to attend to.
“You are…” he murmurs, nudging his nose with yours, but he has no idea how to end the sentence. Perfect? Mine? The one for me? “...the best.” It feels like a cop-out, but he doesn’t want to come on too strong. The irony is not lost on him that he had no problem spewing insults at you, but hesitates when it comes to affection.
“The best coffee date?” you tease, resting your hands on his chest. The sweater’s scratchy wool itches your palms, and you can’t imagine he’ll make it ten steps through the door before changing into one of his signature band tees.
“Yes. No. Yes.” He kisses your nose, an electric spark flying between you. “But also just…the best.” His fingers clasp around the door handle as he begrudgingly opens your door, not wanting the date to end. “Shall I take you home?”
No, you think, biting back your protest. No, take me to your place. Kiss me more, kiss me deeper, kiss me where the curve of my hips meets the plush of my thighs. Let me help you with your sweater; you’ll be so much more comfortable without it, Eddie.
“Okay,” you manage, sliding into your seat. He closes the door once you’re inside, jogging around to his side with a breathy chuckle.
“Gotta keep warm,” he says, turning the key in the ignition. The car rumbles to life, and as soon as he’s out of his parking spot, he takes your hand once again. Your intertwined fingers rest atop the gearshift for the entire drive to your building.
He turns off the car and faces you. “Let me walk you in.” Five simple words that ordinarily would preface sex; Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever uttered them in that order without at least the anticipation of getting laid. But there’s none of that now. He just wants to spend as much time with you as he can, before the spell is broken and he turns back into a pumpkin. Could the prince turn back into the Beast? he wonders wryly.
You cock your brow. “You sure about that? What if Grandma’s gotten herself into more trouble?”
“I’m willing to take that risk.” And he is. He’d risk everything, and for the first time in a long while, he’s not running from that feeling.
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Luckily, there’s no crisis when you and Eddie arrive on your doorstep. You trade a few more giggle-laced kisses before you finally part.
The stars align on Monday morning, with Harris actually cooperating and getting ready with enough time for Eddie to stop off at the cafe to get your coffee. Okay, letting him have a Pop-Tart for breakfast instead of cereal definitely helped the situation, but it was a special occasion! And it’s not like he could tell Harris that he needed to pick up coffee for Ms. Sweetheart; the kid would be hiring caterers for a wedding if he knew. 
Eddie had wanted to call you on Sunday, maybe see if you wanted to go to the playground with him and Harris and get some ice cream afterwards, but he’d ultimately decided against it. Give it some time; don’t be too eager. 
It occurs to him that bringing you coffee is something that a boyfriend would do, and he hasn’t actually asked you to be his girlfriend yet. Do adults do that? Or is it just kinda implied? Shit, maybe I can take her out again this weekend and ask, just to be sure.
He gives Harris a hug and a kiss goodbye, careful not to spill any of the hot beverage as he crouches down to his height. Jitters course through his veins as he approaches your classroom, but he knows that the joy on your face–either from his kind gesture or the prospect of caffeine–will make it all worth it.
When he gets there, he only sees Will. He can’t stick around long; he doubts his boss will accept trying to impress my maybe-girlfriend as a valid excuse for tardiness.
“Hey, Byers,” Eddie calls out with a wave, pointing to the cup. “I’m just gonna leave this on her desk, if that’s cool.” He spots a black Sharpie and is about to use it to write Date night on Friday? when he catches Will’s expression. It’s a combination of confusion and sadness, with his brows pinching together as he walks over to Eddie. 
Will shoves his hands in his pants pockets. “Um, she’s not coming in today. Probably not for the rest of the week.”
“Is she okay?” Worry mars Eddie’s confidence, and the sense of dread only worsens when Will quietly ushers him to the corner of the room away from the kids. “Is she sick or something?” he adds once the students are out of earshot. Will looks up at Eddie, though the height gap has decreased considerably since he was a freshman and Eddie was working through his third senior year. His eyes are shiny with tears, and he blinks them back and clears his throat. “Eddie…” he says softly, “her grandma died last night.”
--
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Text
long time no sex - jj maybank
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summary - yn goes on vacation for two weeks, leaving jj horny as ever. when she gets back, she makes a decision with john b to try to go as long as possible without doing anything with jj, which she quickly fails.
warnings - full on smut, pet names (baby, babe, darlin’, sweetheart), words such as cock, pussy, shaft and hole are used, jj with a breeding kink?, oral (f given), hand jobs (m given), unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), lil bit of fluff.
a/n - this took me like two days cause i’ve never written full on smut before and i was struggling sm, please lmk what y’all think 🙏
word count - 2,198
post number - 8
reader - she/her, fem.
after a long vacation, yn couldn’t wait to see her boyfriend. the closer john b drove her to the chateau, the more excited she got to see jj.
she’d been gone for two weeks and now she got to see him again.
“yn?” john b broke the silence.
she looked at him, “yeah?”
“please don’t fuck in my house.”
yn made the most shocked face she possibly could, “what- why would we hav- what?!”
“i know you two; you can’t keep your hands off each other for two seconds, and jj has been dying without you here.”
“in what means?”
“he got a hard on from an eighty year old woman picking up her bag that she dropped.” he beat around the bush.
yn snickered, “oh my god! should i make him wait as long as possible just to tease him?”
“yes, definitely. i’ve been meaning to get him back for his pranks recently.”
“you? you’re gonna do the prank?”
john b chuckled, “no but if i agree to it then technically i’m in on it. right?”
“suppose so.”
“i don’t think you’ll be able to go five minutes - either one of you.”
“shut up, jb.”
after another few minutes, they’d finally arrived at the small home, where jj was already waiting on the porch steps. when he saw the van pull up, he immediately jogged over to the passengers side of the van, opening the door to pull his girlfriend out.
he pulled yn towards him as soon as her seatbelt was removed. he pulled her into a hug, as she wrapped her legs around his body.
“hi, baby.” she mumbled into his neck.
jj inhaled yn’s scent, “oh, i’ve missed you so much.”
“i’ve heard.” she looked at him, smirking.
his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “what?”
“oh, nothing, jb just told me a little something on the ride over.”
he thought for a second, then immediately knew what she meant. he dropped his girlfriend to the floor, only after making sure her feet were on the ground, before turning to john b.
“bro. seriously?”
“it was funny.”
“no, it wasn’t.” jj defended.
“it really was.”
jj turned away, “fuck you, then.”
“aw, poor little baby, jj.” yn teased, “did you get a hard on from someone’s grandma? poor you.”
“i hate you.”
“can we go in now?” john b whined.
and so, the three of them went inside.
for a few hours, yn and jj laid in bed, relaxing, with netflix playing in the background while they conversed. everything was going smoothly until yn made another joke about grandmas.
“fuck you!” jj shouted, pinning his girlfriend down to the bed. yn squealed, trying to wiggle free as the blonde boy held her down by the wrists.
“you wanna carry on?” jj raised his eyebrows.
yn held back her laughter, “no.”
“are you gonna stop now?”
the girl thought for a moment, “no.”
jj got up in yn’s face, “what’s that darling?”
“no.” she got shy, lowering her voice.
“gonna have to do something about that.” their faces were practically touching at this point; they could feel each other’s breath against their skin.
before yn could even reply, jj pressed his lips against his girlfriends, their lips melted together as if it were in their body’s nature to do so.
their lips moved together quickly, but not too quickly. jj’s left hand crept from around yn’s wrist to around her neck, while his other hand slipped down to her thigh.
he gently pressed his hand against her neck - in response, her mouth slightly opened, and a soft whimper came out.
“do that again.” jj whispered into her ear.
“i can’t just make it happen, jj.”
jj moved his lips down from her lips to her neck, nipping at her skin, softly. he knew the response he would get this time - soft, quiet little moans fell from his girlfriends mouth.
his smirk pressed against her collarbone as he left small red marks on her skin. his hands moved to the hem of yn’s shirt.
“can i take this off?” he asked.
“yeah.” she whispered.
without wasting a moment, jj had already taken the girls shirt off and it was now laying on his bedroom floor.
yn’s hand quickly got tangled in jj’s locks as his lips pressed against her breasts.
“jj” she softly bit her lip, holding back a moan.
“good girl.” he praised, “i love your little moans, darlin’, but jb probably wants you to keep quiet. can you do that for me?”
she nodded, getting a soft peck on the lips in return.
jj took his own shirt off, then his shorts, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. by now, jj’s cock pressed against yn’s core, causing a lot of friction. jj removed his lips from around yn’s nipples, going up to her ear.
he nibbled her ear gently, “fuck, you feel what you’re doing to me, sweetheart?”
“fuck me, jj. i can’t wait any longer. it’s been two weeks.”
“tell me about it.” he responded, pulling down his girlfriends jeans, before going to pull off her panties, “this okay?”
“yeah.”
jj quickly discarded of his girlfriends final item of clothing, throwing it onto the floor.
his fingers made their way into his girlfriends pussy, not moving until after he’d spit to make sure it wasn’t going to be uncomfortable, even though she was already wet.
he started with two fingers, slowly pumping them in and out, getting yn’s pussy used to the feeling again. the moans that were now falling from yn’s ears sounded like music to jj’s ears.
jj nipped at yn’s thigh for a moment, leaving another mark, before his tongue made its way to her clit. as his fingers sped up, his tongue was soft, moving up her clit, qs if he was stroking it. as her breathing got heavier, jj sped up his fingers and tensed his tongue slightly, earning godly praise falling from yn’s lips.
“fuck- jj! that feels so good!” one of her hands was tangled in jj’s hair still, while the other was gripping on the bedsheets for dear life.
jj felt yn’s body start to twitch and shake beneath him, hinting that she was close.
waiting for a whimper, which usually let him know she was going to reach her high, he asked, “you close, baby?”
“mhm-“ she whimpered, biting her lip, begging her mouth to stay quiet.
gripping the bedsheets were no longer enough, and yn gripped jj’s hair with her other hand, basically yanking at it now.
jj slipped another finger into his girlfriend’s hole, and his tongue became more passionate as he licked her clit.
“jj! fuck, i’m gonna cum.” she moaned.
“cum for me, darlin’.”
jj’s fingers sped up, going as deep as he could get them, curling them slightly, in order to hit that spot that got yn to climax.
his fingers were now covered in a sticky, cloudy substance, “fuck, baby. you okay?”
“yeah.” she breathed, “that was so good.”
jj reached for a wipe, as he wasn’t one that was much for licking his fingers clean, wiping the cum from his fingers.
“you ready for my cock now, darl?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
she nodded, not giving him the consent he was after.
“verbal.” he spoke, in a low tone.
“yes. please, jj.” yn was practically begging.
finally getting the consent he needed, he discarded of his boxers, also tossing them to the ground.
yn got up to kneel, and wrapped her hand around jj’s shaft. she leant over to spit, making her movements smoother and less uncomfortable for jj.
they were both aware that she wasn’t giving him a full on handjob, just getting him completely hard, but she wanted to tease him a bit. her spare hand crept underneath to jj’s balls, giving them the slightest squeeze possible; jj’s head fell straight into yn’s neck as she stroked his cock, letting out a groan into her skin.
“fuck, baby.” he groaned, “don’t play with me like this.”
she chuckled, “just getting you warmed up, jay.”
while yn stroked jj’s hard on, he went back to pecking at her neck, occasionally nibbling and sucking at her skin.
“oh my god-“ jj held back laughter.
“what?”
“i just gave you a huge hickey, babe.”
yn’s irises widened, “what?!”
she picked up the closest phone to her, which happened to be jj’s and checked in the camera.
“jj!” she scolded, “my brothers are gonna kill me, you dick!”
“i can make it up to you?”
she smirked, as jj tilted in response, almost as if he were asking an actual question. almost as if they were in sync, jj practically dove at yn as she pressed her lips to jj’s.
jj lifted his girlfriend’s leg up and pulled her closer, pressing his cock against her core.
“you ready?” he asked.
“fuck, yeah.”
jj pulled out a tube of lube from his bedside table before smearing a small amount over his cock, then tossed it onto the pillow next to them.
“condom?” he asked, checking what yn wanted.
“nah. i’ve got plan b in your drawer.”
he nodded, then he rubbed his dick up and down her folds, teasing her by rubbing it occasionally on her clit, causing her lower body to slightly twitch.
when yn gave him the okay, he slowly pressed is dick into yn’s hole, trying not to cause her too much discomfort, as it had been a while.
“you hurtin’?” jj asked, genuinely concerned.
“no, just feels a bit strange.”
“am i okay to move then?”
she nodded, “mhm.” giving him the verbal consent she knew jj was after.
jj slowly moved back and forth, pushing in and out of yn’s pussy. he leant into his girlfriend, placing one hand on her hip, and the other on her jaw, before passionately kissing her.
their lips moved as if they were molded together, when jj knew that yn was okay, from the small moan that fell against his own lips, his pace sped up.
“baby-“ yn grabbed jj’s shoulder, “fuck- go faster, jj.”
jj’s hips thrusted in and out faster than before, hitting yn’s cervix, repeatedly.
yn could no longer kiss jj; her nails were currently digging into his back, as her teeth were softly pressing into jj’s neck, “fuck me, jj.”
“i am, darlin’.” he breathed.
by now they were both a complete mess, hickeys all over the both of them, teeth marks in jj’s neck, nail marks on yn’s hip and scratches across jj’s back.
jj threw his head back, flicking his now sweaty hair out of his face, in order to see his beautiful girlfriend again.
“fuck- you’re so beautiful.” he moaned, admiring yn’s body.
she pulled jj closer to her, as his cock twitched inside her and her vision was partially covered by white spots. she kissed jj, as they both couldn’t hold back anymore - their breaths became one, as they moaned and groaned in between kisses onto each other lips.
“i’m gonna cum, sweetheart.” jj informed yn, pressing his head into the inside of her neck.
“me.. too-“ she struggled to breath out.
as they were getting closer and closer to reaching their highs, jj’s hips slapped against yn’s skin faster and harder than before, he almost couldn’t control it anymore.
“can i cum inside you?” he asked.
“yes, fuck- please cum inside me, jj” she moaned, consenting once again.
with the consent he was given, he thrusted into his girlfriend a few more times, before the both of them had their orgasms.
jj pressed his forehead against yn’s, slowly thrusting, as yn held his head.
“i love you so much.” yn whispered.
“i love you too, baby.” jj responded, pressing a kiss to her lips, before flopping down onto the pillow next to him, “ow, forgot i put that there.”
jj passed the lube to yn, who then placed it into the drawer next to her.
both their chests were quickly moving up and down as they caught their breaths.
“can i clean you up, sweetheart?”
“yeah, jay.”
jj reached to grab a tissue from the bedside table next to him, and gently wiped around yn’s now sensitive areas, wiping the substances off her, then grabbing a wipe to properly clean her. he then threw them both into the bin before laying back down, only for yn to do the same cleaning process to jj.
“i don’t understand why you never clean yourself off after me.”
“guess i just prioritise you.”
“how cute.” yn joked.
jj chuckled, “shut up. wanna stay here for a bit or do you wanna get some food and a drink?”
“i’m kinda hungry.”
“let’s get changed then and we can go grab some food.” jj responded, getting up, before pulling his girlfriend up with him, making sure she stabilised herself before he let go of her.
they both got changed before they left jj’s room and headed into the kitchen area of the chateau.
while jj made food, yn went over to john b, and whispered, “i failed.”
“i know. my poor ears had to hear it all.”
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azzibuckets · 2 months
Text
Paper Rings [Part 6/10 | Paige Bueckers]
paige bueckers x fem!reader
summary: the road to recovery
word count: 1.4k
masterlist w/ all parts
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PRESENT DAY
You wrung your hair out with a towel, trying to get the chlorine out. You played for the club water polo team at UConn since they didn’t have an official, NCAA-organized team. You knew this sport didn’t hold much weight when you told others you were a student athlete, but water polo was what you loved, and you threw yourself into it, always being the first in the pool and the last to get out, swimming the extra laps, and bringing the energy to every game.
Ella, one of your teammates, snuck up from behind you and wrapped you in a hug. “Good job today,” she giggled, water from her hair dripping onto your shoulder.
Today had been the last tournament game of the season, and your last ever game with the seniors. Ella was one of your closest friends on the team and unfortunately one of those seniors, and you knew that you were going to miss her bad.
“Please don’t graduate,” you groaned, returning her hug. “Don’t leave me here.”
“As much as I’ve loved playing with you, I’m ready to leave college,” Ella admitted. “Once my finals are done, I’m out.”
Soon her family joined you two, congratulating you two on our big win. They adorned Ella with candy leis and stuffed bouquets of flowers in her arms, then squished the two of you in for a picture.
“So cute!” Ella’s grandma, Lily, gushed. She came over to squeeze your cheeks. “You’re such a darling. Where’s your family?”
You blushed at the attention. Lily was one of the sweetest women you’d ever met. “I’m not a senior, so I told them not to worry about coming out,” you explained.
“Oh?” Lily quirked her eyebrow. “That’s too bad! It’s still the last game of the season, which is pretty important. Good thing your friend came to cheer you on!”
You tilted your head quizzically. “What do you mean? My friends couldn’t make it.”
Lily looked taken aback. “Oh, I must’ve gotten things mixed up. She didn’t say she was your friend, but she’s been to several of your games, and she knows so much about you, I just assumed!”
“She?” you furrowed your eyebrows, not really understanding what Lily was saying.
The older lady nodded enthusiastically, wrapping her hands around yours. “I always forget her name, honey, but she’s a very nice girl, very tall with blonde hair. I recall her saying once that she plays basketball here!”
At that, Ella nudged you, a confused look in her eyes. “No way. Is she talking about Paige?” You blinked in disbelief before you swiveled back to her grandma.
“Wait, I’m sorry. You said she’s been to multiple of my games?”
“Well, she always comes a little late and leaves a little early, but she’s been to at least five games,” Lily responded. “I didnt talk to her until the third or fourth game, until I overheard her explaining to someone else about how the game worked. She talked about you, said you were amazing and worked so hard. She always knows how many goals you scored too!”
You froze, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts. You and Paige had talked last week for the first time in a year, but from what Lily was saying, she must’ve been at your games spanning across your season from the last few months. You weren’t sure what to do with this piece of information. Paige had been so dismissive of you that night you’d gotten into an argument, made it seem like she wanted nothing to do with you. And now she’s been attending your games? She obviously hadn’t wanted you to find out, which she had done a pretty good job of. You’d told her before that you don’t ever look at the audience in the stands during games; the people there made you nervous, and it was hard to see in the water anyways. So she’d taken advantage of that, coming in late and leaving early. So if she didn’t want you to know, why come?
As these thoughts plagued your mind, Ella gently laid a hand on your elbow. “I gotta go with my family now, but call me later, alright?” she said gently.
You nodded distractedly, rushing to gather my things and go home so you could process in peace.
—————————
“Where were you?” KK questioned as soon as Paige walked into the lounge. The shorter girl was sprawled out on the couch, a pillow supporting her chin as she scrolled through her Tiktoks.
“Are you ever not on Tiktok?” Paige teased, slapping her on the head before plopping down next to her.
KK guffawed. “I know you’re not talking. I might have to block you with all the thirst traps you’re posting. The edits are getting less and less cordial.”
Paige rolled her eyes, grabbing KK’s phone before throwing it to the end of the coach. KK shot her a menacing glare before crawling to retrieve her phone. “You didn’t answer my question, P Boogers.”
“I was just walking around campus,” Paige replied. It technically wasn’t a lie, because she had walked from the pool deck to Werth.
“Lies.” KK regarded her with a confident smirk as she wagged her phone. “I checked your location.”
Paige didn’t like where this was going.
“I checked your location,” KK repeated, “and you were at the pool!” She smiled triumphantly at that, as if she had just caught Paige red handed.
The blonde rolled her eyes. “Okay, so what? I was walking by and I saw a game going on, so I decided to watch. I watch basically every women’s sport on campus.” When KK continued to look at her with that infuriating smirk on her face, Paige started rambling. “I mean, it would be discrimination by not going to the game. You know I’m the biggest supporter of women in sports. Water polo is so underrated and-,”
“Okay, chill out,” KK interrupted, holding her hands up in surrender. “But you seem to be at the pool deck a lot. Like it’s getting borderline creepy.”
The taller girl shrugged. “It’s not like Y/N knows I go.“ She perked up, as if she just remembered something. “She played so good today, KK. She scored three goals, and one was from half, and it was a buzzer beater lob.”
KK shook her head. “Damn, P. This girl’s got you wrapped around her pinky, and you guys don’t even talk any more. Which kinda sucks.” KK flopped backwards, staring up at the ceiling. “We were just getting close when you guys broke up. She was really cool.”
Paige bit her bottom lip. She hated herself every day for how your friendship had ended, and she didn’t need her friends on her ass about it too. “We didn’t break up,” she corrected. “We never dated. And yeah, I know it sucks bro. I miss her too.”
“Why don’t you guys just talk it out? Like, you guys were best friends. I’m sure she misses you too,” KK advised, a hopeful look in her eyes. Paige felt a wave of guilt crash over her. She always thought about how the end of your friendship affected her, but she always forgot about how it impacted her teammates too. They had absolutely loved you, the way you showed up to all their games to support them and brought them freshly baked cookies to practice during hell week. You were funny and quick witted, and they truly saw you as one of them. And all of that Paige had ruined.
“I’m sorry, KK,” Paige apologized. “It’s just really fucking hard.”
KK nodded slowly. “Okay, good thing she’s coming to senior night then! You can talk to her then.”
“She’s what?” Paige lurched up, rigid.
“Nika said she wanted to go to senior night but tickets were all sold out, so she had to ask Nika if any of us had leftover family tickets. And I do,” KK gleefully informed Paige, pleased at her shocked reaction.
“You guys are actually gonna drive me insane,” Paige breathed out, slumping back in her seat. She could feel a migraine coming on.
“You better make a move or something at the game, Paige. I’m serious. We’re tired of you pining over her like this,” KK said.
Paige slowly exhaled. The thought of seeing you again filled her with a sort of nervous excitement, like a school girl counting down the minutes to see her hallway crush. But anxiety pooled in the pit of her stomach. You hated her, Paige was sure. She wasn’t used to rejection, and you gave it to her so easily last week. But Paige knew she’d have to suck it up if she’d want you back. And God, she wanted you.
——————-
1 WEEK LATER: SENIOR NIGHT
Paige dribbled the ball between her legs. She closed her eyes, trying to relish the feeling of being here in Gampel on her senior night. She wasn’t too worried about the actual game; they were only playing Georgetown. But today she would be announcing her plans on returning next year. And today, there’d also be you.
As much as she wanted to see you, Paige hoped that the family ticket that KK gave you weren’t court side. She would have a difficult time focusing on the game if you were right there, studying her every move.
After the senior night ceremony wrapped up and the game began, Paige forced herself to block out all the noise in her mind. This was basketball, and she just needed to come out and do what she normally did. She remained focused while playing, and she only saw you towards the end of the third quarter when she got subbed out for a break. She almost lost her breath when she saw you, casually sitting court-side (damn you KK). You weren’t looking at her, but were focused on the game. You stood up and cheered in excitement when Aaliyah scored a layup, and Paige admired how naturally gorgeous you were, with your eyes sparkling and mouth turned up into a bright smile. Her fingers itched with the urge to touch you, to hold your cheek in her hand and dig her nose into your hair to smell your sweet vanilla conditioner and nip the sensitive skin right under your ear. She wanted to kiss away the smile on your lips, kiss you til neither of you could breathe. But she couldn’t.
Soon the game ended, but Paige didn’t head back to the locker room with the rest of the girls. Mustering up her courage, she tried to walk as confidently as she could to where you were packing up your things from your seat.
“Hey.”
You froze at her voice. Pursing your lips, you looked up.
Paige stayed silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. After you raised an eyebrow expectantly, she rushed to say, “You like the game?”
You smiled genuinely then. “Course I did. The team played great, as always. Aaliyah was killing it out there.”
Paige had always loved how you loved her teammates, but now she felt nothing but jealousy, that the only reason she could get you to smile was by talking about the team. Paige bit the inside of her cheek. “Thank you for coming.”
Irritation flooded your face. “I didn’t come for you.” That was a definite lie. You had wanted to come watch Paige on senior night. You knew how important this was to her, how much she loved playing for UConn. You wouldn’t have missed it for the world (and definitely not because you realized Paige had been silently supporting you at your games this entire time) which is why you had to awkwardly reach out to Nika to beg for tickets like a dog with scraps.
“No yeah, of course,” Paige stumbled over her words. “I was just saying, you know, thanks, in a broad sense from the entire team?”
You almost giggled as you observed Paige’s nervous behavior. But you didn’t want to give her any false hopes that you guys were okay, so you bit your lip to stop your laugh.
“Listen, I know we’re not…” Paige vaguely gestured between the two of them. “But the team’s really missed you, and I know they really want you to come to Nika’s tonight to celebrate. The coaches will be there, so there’s not gonna be any drinks or funny business.”
“Yeah, I know. Nika texted me,” you sighed, fiddling with the ends of your hair. “But it’s been a really long night.”
“You don’t have to stay for long,” Paige said. “And I’ll like, stay away on the complete opposite side of the room, if you want me to. But come for KK and Nika and the rest of the girls. Please.”
You melted under Paige’s hopeful look, and ducking your head, you said shyly, “Okay, yeah. I’ll be there.”
Out of reflex, Paige reached up to touch your elbow in gratitude, but you quickly dodged, lamely covering it up by swiftly gathering your hair and putting it in a ponytail. The light in Paige’s eyes dimmed, and she crossed her arms awkwardly. You cursed at yourself for making things so tense.
“Well, I gotta do some press then change. I’ll see you later maybe?” You only nodded in response, and Paige gave you a weak, half hearted smile before jogging off.
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Text
Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 9
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I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
All OC Characters belong to me
All Falls Down (Prequel)
Series Masterlist
Special shoutout to @paigereeder without her this chapter would not have gotten done! 🫶🏽
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Kiyana stared off in the direction that Elijah had walked off in, rubbing her arm in the spot that he had grabbed. “Oh naw, he ain’t getting away with this shit.” She muttered as she stormed towards Alexis’ room. She knew how it felt to have a cheated husband and she would never want another woman to feel the way she had. 
“Oh, Kiyana! Bae this is the girl I was telling you about.” Alexis smiled at Kiyana as she walked into the room. “Thank you for paging him. I don’t know what he has a phone for, he never answers it.” Alexis teased her husband, staring up at him with adoration and love in her eyes and Kiyana felt like she was gonna throw up right then and there. It made her sick to know that Elijah was nothing more than a cheating sociopath, just like Josh. 
“Well, I'm happy to help.” Kiyanna finally responded, having to tear her eyes away from the couple in front of her. Her eyes kept wandering down to his wedding ring and all she could think was ‘how could I be so stupid.’  This man was married with THREE kids that he failed to mention. How sick can one person actually be? 
Kiyana checked on Alexis and the baby, not looking in Eli’s direction, even though she felt his eyes on her. His cheating, deceiving eyes.  “Everything looks good right now. If you need anything, just hit that red button right there and someone will come to help.” Kiyana recited the lines from the employee handbook perfectly before turning and walking out of the room before Elijah or Alexis could say anything. 
She closed her eyes and leaned against the closed door, letting out a breath before walking over to the nurses station. “Girl, you still taking care of her?” When Kiyana nodded, Debra shook her head. “You better than me.”  
“I wanted to tell her so bad how much of a scumbag her husband is” Kiyana spat out. Eyes narrowing on the door to room 302. “But something in me just couldn’t. Maybe cause I’ve been in her position before.” Kiyana shrugs, looking down at her bare left hand and frowning. 
Your ex-husband cheated on you?” Debra asked, giving Kiyana a look of pity, which Kiyana ignored. 
“Yup, he um- he cheated on me while I was pregnant with our youngest.. With some chick he worked with.. Same exact situation, different roles.” Kiyana said as she made eye contact with Elijah who had just walked out of the hospital room. He walked past the nurses station, head held high as he ignored the glare Debra was sending his way. 
“If you wanna go home. It’s okay. I’ll cover for you.” Kiyana shook her head. 
“Nope. I am sick and tired of letting men ruin my day.” 
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“Daddy can we go see mommy at work?” Josh stopped searching his mother’s refrigerator for something for his boys to eat and checked his watch. 11:54 am.  it was almost time for Kiyana to go to lunch anyway. 
“Yeah, we can do that. Go tell grandma we leaving.” He said sending Kaiden to do his dirty work. Talisua was beyond pissed at him, ever since he told her he crashed Kiyana’a date a couple of days ago. She had called him selfish and insensitive. He agreed with the selfish part, because he was, he wholeheartedly agreed with that. He wanted Kiyana to himself and he was going to do everything in his power to get his wife… ex-wife back. 
“You couldn’t come tell me you were leaving on your own?” Talisua asked as she walked into the kitchen holding Kairo and Josh sighed. 
“Ma’, I don’t wanna fight with you.” 
“I don’t wanna fight with you neither son. I just want you to understand how unfair you are being to Kiyana.” Josh sighed again and resisted the urge to roll his eyes, not waiting to get smacked upside his head. “She deserves to move on.” 
“And I deserve a chance to fix my mess. To make everything right again.” Josh stressed, staring his mom down, he was tired of hearing that Kiyana needs to move on, because no the hell she doesn’t. “Pops cheated on you and had Melvania and you still stayed with him and had four kids. He deserved a second chance, so why don’t I?” For the first time in 38 years, Josh had stumped his mom. He knew bringing up his father’s cheating ways was mean and unnecessary, but he needed to get his point across. 
“Me and your father were not married though Joshua! He didn’t break a vow to me like how you did to Kiyana.” 
“That’s not fair ma’” Josh shot back. “Pops wanted to make things right and you let him, why are you giving me a hard time when I’m trying to do the same?” Talisua’s features softened as she walked closer to her son and grabbed his hand. 
“Son, it’s not the same. I know you wanna fix things with Kiyana. I would love it if y’all were back on the same page, but you hurt her. You hurt her during one of the toughest moments of her life because of your selfishness. Yes, your father has made mistakes but he allowed me to work through my pain on my own, he gave me space and that’s what you’re not giving Kiyana.” 
“Space? She already went on a damn date mom!” Josh responded, raising his voice. "I know I messed up, I admit that. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to fix things. Kiyana means everything to me."
“Joshua,” Talisua said softly, squeezing his hand gently, “I know how much she means to you but, She needs space okay? Just let her come back to you.” Josh shook head head 
“Nah, I can’t just sit back and watch while she dates other men. I can’t do that.” 
“Then, I can’t help you Josh. You’re own your own.” Talisua handed Kairo over before walking out of the kitchen. 
“We don’t need her,” Josh muttered to a smiling Kairo. “You’ll help me get mommy back right?”  Josh let out a sigh before calling out to Kaiden, “Kai, come on. Let’s go see mommy!”  
As Josh and his two boys were heading towards his truck, he let out a groan as he saw Joe leaning against it. 
“Uncle Joe!” Kaiden called out, letting go of his fathers hand and running towards Joe, who swooped down and picked him up.
“Man whatcho’ big ass  doin’ here?”  Josh asked, unlocking his car door and placing Kairo in his carseat. 
“I ain't come to argue with you.” Joe said softly. “Jon said you might be here and I just wanted to talk,”  Josh sucked his teeth and moved to the driver's side, starting the car and rolling the windows down. “Josh, I told you the other day I was sorry about how all that shit went down with Kiyana.” 
“Aye Uce,” Josh chuckled bitterly,  “You fucked my wife. Then called me so I could hear it!” Josh seethed, damn-near snatching Kaiden out of Joe’s arms. “You lucky you not six feet underground.”
Joe and Josh stood there staring at each other. Josh’s eyes were filled with hate and anger while Joes’ was filled with regret and sadness about how this whole situation went. He still believed in his heart that Kiyana deserves someone better than Josh, but he also knew that the love that they had for each other was genuine and real. Joe would be a hypocrite if he held Josh accountable for his cheated, it’s not like Joe hasn’t cheated on his girlfriends in the past. 
“Look I’m sorry alright? I don’t wanna fight with you no more Josh. I miss my favorite cousin.” Josh’s eyes softened at Joe’s confession. 
“Daddy, I thought we were going to see mommy?” Kaiden interrupted the two of them and Joe looked at Josh with hopeful eyes. 
“Y’all going to see Key? Can I come? I was going to see her before I left for Miami.” Josh started shaking his head, he opened his mouth to tell him no but Kaiden spoke again. 
“Hurry! Or we’re gonna miss mommy!” Kaiden yelled out growing inpatient. 
“Fine, Get in the damn car Uce.” Josh grunted out, lip curling in disgust as Joe opened his passenger side door and slid his big ass in. 
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12:00 pm. 
Kiyana leaped from her chair and grabbed her bag immediately heading for the elevator. “Take as long as you want!" Debra called out and Kiyana gave a thumbs up in return just as the elevator doors closed. Since there was a ban on cell phones during work hours, she had to wait to tell Samara all about Elijah and his lying, cheating ass
She let out a curse as she looked down at her arm where Elijah had grabbed, a nasty bruise had formed. Just looking at the bruise had her blood boiling. ‘I should go back up there and tell his wife everything.’ She thought as the elevator doors opened up on the ground floor. 
Kiyana had pulled up Samara’s contact and was about to press call when a loud “MOMMY!”  echoed around the surprisingly quiet main entrance. An immediate smile was on Kiyana’s face as she recognized her son’s voice. 
“Kai!” Kiyana called out, kneeling down and capturing him in a tight hug that she needed at that moment.  
“Hi mommy, I miss you.” Kaiden muttered into the shirt of her scrubs and it took everything in Kiyana not to burst into tears right there as she placed a kiss to the top of his head. 
“I miss you too Kai.” 
“Damn, I be gone weeks at a time and he’s never ran to me like that” Kiyana rolled her eyes with a chuckle before turning towards Josh and… Joe? Who was pushing Kairo in his stroller. Her eyes widened as she took in the two Samoans. 
“What the fuck?” She whispered. She tried to asked him what he was doing there, but all she could muster was another , “What the fuck?” 
As Kiyana stood to her full height, the bruise on her arm caught Josh's attention. ���What’s that?” He asked, drawing Joe’s attention to the bruise as well.
“Oh, it’s nothing, I bumped into something earlier.” She muttered, looking anywhere but at Josh and that's when he knew she was lying. 
“Kiyana.” He narrowed his eyes on her. “That shit wasn’t there this morning.” 
“Josh, please.” She pleaded. “Y’all came here to eat, so let's go do that.” She said grabbing Kaiden’s hand and walking towards the cafeteria but Josh grabbed her other hand, stopping her. “Josh, stop” She whispered and he shook his head. 
“It was that nut ass dude you went out with wasn’t it?” 
“Aye, he put his hands on you KiKi?” Joe chimed in and Kiyana’s bottom lip quivered and that’s when Josh lost it. 
Josh's jaw was clenched tight as he asked her, “Where he at Kiyana? He thinks he can put his hands on you and get away with it?” 
Kiyana shook her head,  "Josh, please," she pleaded again, placing her hand on his chest, trying her hardest to calm him down, but he was pissed and past the point of calming down. “We got the kids here.” 
“And they need to see what happens when someone puts their hands on their mama. I don’t play that shit Key, divorced or not.” The elevator doors opened and Kiyana cursed as Josh’s eyes zeroed in on Elijah. “You put your fucking hands on my wife?” Josh called out and before Elijah could even comprehend what was going on, Josh walked up and threw a mean right hook, knocking Elijah down to the ground. 
The security guard, who had overhead what Elijah did, took his time getting up from his seat. He stretched and yawned before slowly making his way over to them. Kiyana took the stroller from Joe and pushed him in Josh’s direction, “Please do something!” She called out, covering Kaiden’s eyes so he wouldn’t see what his dad was doing. 
“Josh.. Josh come on man, you got him.” Joe said as he pulled Josh off of Elijah but not without getting his own kicks in. 
“Alright, that's enough” The security guard called out as he finally made his way over to them. 
“This shit ain’t over!” Josh called out to Elijah who was holding his jaw, glaring at him. “Imma catch ya’ bum ass again!” Josh pushed the guard away from him and grabbed Kiyana's hand, leading her out of the hospital. 
“And don’t put your hands on my mommy again!” 
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Welp... Honestly.... i can't write a fight scene to save my life but imma work on it and trust, this aint the last time Josh gon get his hands on Elijah!
If then ending seems rushed, I apologize it is 3:35 am and I wanted to get this out b/c I won't have any time later on in the day to publish 🙃.
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sycamorelibrary754 · 1 month
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The Doting Tree
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Summary: During your visit to your grandmother at her assisted living community, you learn that Bucky has been regularly volunteering there as a part of his therapy sessions with Dr. Raynor.
Pairings: Bucky x Platonic reader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: None
A/N: Who doesn't want to see Bucky healing?
"Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Stark requests your presence in his lab," Friday announced, pulling you out of your intense focus.
"Can it wait, FRIDAY? I'm swamped with overdue mission reports here," you replied, shuffling through the stack of papers on your desk.
“Mr. Stark says you have a phone call,” FRIDAY responded.
“A phone call?” you asked, puzzled, picking up your phone. “No, I don't.”
“In his lab, Ms. Y/L/N,” FRIDAY said.
"Okay,” you said as you rubbed your tired eyes. “Tell him I'm on my way.”
Walking into Tony's lab, you found the genius hunched over his desk, tinkering with one of his holographic interfaces. His phone was propped between his ear and shoulder.
“Really? I had no idea,” Tony said with a surprised look. “Y/N is so at ease on the motorcycle you would never know she didn't learn to ride a two-wheeler until she was nine.”
Your eyes widened. "Oh my God. Who are you talking to?" 
"One moment, ma'am," Tony said before placing the phone against his chest.
"It’s your grandmother," Tony said. "She called the front desk trying to reach you, and they patched her through to me." 
"What? Why didn't they call me?" you said, reaching for the phone as Tony pulled it away. 
"Because this is way more fun," Tony smirked. 
"Gimme the phone!" You snapped.
Tony placed a hand on your forehead to hold you at arm's length like an annoying older brother while putting the phone back to his ear.
"Y/G/N, your granddaughter just walked in. So, I’m going to pass you over to her," Tony said. "No, don't be silly. It's no problem. I enjoyed talking with you, too. Feel free to call back anytime. My pleasure, ma'am. Bye-bye."
You sighed as the billionaire finally handed over his phone, walking back toward the pane-glass windows for some privacy.
"Hi, Grandma," you chirped.
"Hello, dear, so good to hear your voice," your grandmother said.
"How did you end up on the phone with Mr. Stark?" you asked.
"I accidentally deleted your cell phone number, but your mom has your workplace down on this list she made, so I called information and then was connected to your lovely boss," your grandma explained.
"Ah, I see. Well, he’s not technically my boss, more like an annoying man-child who pays for everything," Smirking back at Tony and sticking your tongue out.
Your grandma asked, 'What is this I hear about you riding a motorcycle?”
"Oh, no need to worry. I’m a professional, and it's part of my job," you reassured her.
"Still," your grandma began. "I hope you're wearing a helmet."
"Always, Grandma, don't worry,” you fibbed. “So, how are you?” Do your best to shift the conversation away from your dangerous life as an Avenger.
"I’m good, sweetheart. I'm just wondering when you're going to visit me. It's been a while since I’ve seen you,” your grandma asked. 
Your heart broke at her words. Your grandma lives in an assisted living community near the compound called The Doting Tree. You did your best to see her often, but the unpredictable nature of your work made regular visits difficult.
“I know; I’m sorry. Things have been hectic lately, and I just got home from a work trip a few days ago. How about I stop by tomorrow around noon?" you asked.
“That would be great," she exclaimed. "See you then!"
"Okay, bye," you said, hanging up Tony’s phone.
You gave Tony his phone back, and he handed you a hundred-dollar bill in exchange.
“What's this for?” you asked.
“I may be an annoying man-child, but even I know you treat Grandma like a queen,” Tony quipped with a wink.
*^~^*
The following day, you joined the rest of the team for breakfast. Wanda had made her special chocolate chip pancakes and fresh orange juice for everyone. You sat beside Bucky and began squeezing Maple syrup over your pancakes. 
Pepper set a plate in front of Morgan and sat beside Tony. "So, what's everyone got lined up for today?"
"Nat and I are getting the recruits up to speed," Steve replied, digging into his pancakes.
“That sounds interesting,” Pepper said.
"It would be interesting if they paid attention this time," Nat remarked, downing the last of her orange juice.
"I always paid attention," you declared confidently.
"Sure, Y/N, you ran those extra laps after training at Nat’s request just for fun," Maria teased.
"Yelena and I are off to an advanced obedience class with Lucky and Fanny," Kate said. "This week, it's all about the army crawling!"
"By the end of the training, they'll be more mission-ready than your little recruits, Natasha," Yelena teased as she cut into her pancakes.
Nat leaned over and flicked her sister's arm.
"Ow, son of a—"
"Language!" Steve interjected.
Yelena was about to retort, but then she caught Morgan's smile and shut her mouth.
"I’m supposed to meet with Secretary Ross, but I'd much rather catch the new Godzilla vs. Kong movie. Anyone up for it?" Rhodes suggested.
"I'm in!" Sam exclaimed. "How about you, Buck?"
"Can't make it; I'm tied up," Bucky replied, sipping his orange juice.
“Come on, man, how often do we blend in with the crowd?" Sam quipped.
"I can't, Sam," Bucky replied with a shrug.
"Your loss," Sam retorted. "What about you, Y/N?"
"I'd love to, but I promised my grandma a visit," you replied.
"That's thoughtful of you, Y/N," Wanda chimed in.
"Oh, that reminds me, guess who didn't learn to ride a bike until they were nine?" Tony butted in enthusiastically.
You rolled your eyes. “And that's my cue to leave," you said, getting up. "Catch you all later.”
*^~^*
You made great use of Tony's money by treating your grandma to a lovely bouquet of roses and a box of her favorite chocolates. When you arrived at The Doting Tree, the scent of Fabuloso greeted you, mixing with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee from the communal area. Passing through the lobby, you exchanged a warm smile and a wave with Joan, the friendly receptionist stationed behind the oak desk.
You knocked eagerly on the door of room 508, and the sound of your grandmother's footsteps grew louder before she swung open the door.
"Y/N!" she exclaimed.
"Hey, grandma," you greeted her with a smile. "These are for you," you said, handing her the roses and chocolates.
"Oh, you didn't have to, sweetheart," she replied, taking her gifts.
You hugged her and were instantly transported back to his childhood. Her warm embrace was a comfort you didn't know you were missing.
"Please, come on in, Y/N," she said as she broke the hug.
As your grandma whipped up a delightful batch of creamy, rich hot chocolate, the cozy aroma filled the room, enveloping you in warmth and comfort. You lost track of time, immersed in lively conversations and shared memories as you leisurely walked down memory lane. She asked about your work, and you carefully selected the most positive stories to share: the most recent Stark Gala and the Avengers community outreach efforts. You wouldn't dream of telling her about the near miss on your last mission when Nat's impressive scissor-leg neck grab saved you from a potentially fatal situation.
I can't believe how quickly time has flown by," your grandma exclaimed, glancing at the clock. "Movie night starts downstairs in fifteen minutes."
"Oh, in that case, I'll leave you to get ready," you replied, getting up.
"Nonsense," she insisted. "I'd love for you to join me. Tonight is Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, a classic from the Golden Age of Hollywood."
You quickly checked your phone and were relieved to see no missed calls or texts from Fury, Maria, or Steve.
"Great, I've never seen it, and I’m free for the rest of the day," you said.
"Wonderful, let’s go," your grandma replied.
*^~^*
When you and your grandmother arrived in the small community theater, the Doting Tree staff handed out popcorn and queued up the movie. You followed your grandma to two empty seats near the end of the row. 
Hi, Y/G/N, I was hoping to see you here tonight," the brunette woman with half glasses beside her confessed.
"I wouldn't have missed this for anything. You know Jimmy Stewart is my favorite!" your grandma proclaimed. "Oh, Betty, this is my granddaughter Y/N, she's one of those Avengers!" she proudly introduced.
You felt slightly embarrassed by the attention but extended your hand to Betty. "Hi, Betty. It's great to meet you."
"It's lovely to meet you, dear. Y/G/N has told me so much about you!" Betty said.
"All good, I hope?" you joked.
"Of course. I don't know how you all do it, but thank you for everything you've done."
"It's my honor, ma'am,” you said.
"Excuse me?" a man in a sweater vest behind you said, catching your attention. "I couldn't help but overhear. You mentioned you're one of the Avengers?" 
"That's right," you replied.
"Do you happen to know James? He's one of our volunteers. My buddy Walter swears he's an Avenger."
"James?" you asked, puzzled. "We don't have anyone named—"
"Alright, folks," a familiar voice interrupted.
"Bucky," you whispered to yourself in surprise.
Your friend stood at the front of the room, looking effortlessly stylish in a casual navy crew neck shirt, perfectly fitted jeans, and trendy sneakers. His beaming smile transformed his entire appearance, making him almost unrecognizable.
"Tonight's movie is one of my favorites, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington," Bucky announced, clapping his hands together. "Jimmy Stewart was one of my favorite actors when I was a kid."
"Not to mention Jean Arthur!" someone shouted from the back row, and the room erupted in laughter.
“Alright, Stacy, can you turn off the lights, please?” Bucky asked one of the staff members.
As the idealistic young Jefferson Smith was appointed to the United States Senate, your attention continually drifted to Bucky. You observed as he quietly passed a box of Nestle crunch bites down the row to one of the residents and whispered something to the woman beside him, who laughed in response.
*^~^*
When the credits rolled, and the lights came on in the theater, you lingered at the back of the room while your grandmother caught up with her friends. Perhaps it was the spy-like instincts that Natasha had instilled in you, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You were captivated by the transformation in his demeanor. The man who once seemed only to wear a scowl now appeared happier than you had ever seen him.
You walked over slowly as he was engrossed in conversation with a man you recognized as Richard Swanson. According to Joan, he was one of The Doting Tree’s oldest residents in time and age. Tall and slender, with a confident posture that hinted at a lifetime of discipline and care, he still boasted a thick mane of hair that belied his age. The strands, once a rich chestnut, now shimmered with a distinguished silver hue, the only overt sign of the passing years.
"What unit were you in, Barnes?" Mr. Swanson asked.
"107th Infantry Regiment, sir," Bucky replied.
"No kidding?” said Mr. Swanson. “I was in the 103rd."
"I remember that regiment," Bucky said, snapping his fingers. "You were guarding the Trisssana Bridge, right?"
"That's right," Mr. Swanson replied. “My cousin was in the 107th Regiment. Maybe you knew him? Tim Dugan.”
"Wow," Bucky sighed, his voice trailing off as he paused to reflect. "Tim Dugan. I haven't heard that name in almost 80 years," Bucky said, his eyes distant with memories. "I did know him. He was a good man," Bucky reminisced, a hint of wistfulness in his voice.
He was indeed," Mr. Swanson sighed, his tired eyes reflecting the long day he had endured. The elderly gentleman checked his antique pocket watch. "I've got to get going. It's almost past my bedtime," he chuckled softly as he patted Bucky on the shoulder with a sense of fondness. "See you next time, Barnes."
"See you, Mr. Swanson," Buck called out, his voice carrying a tinge of warmth and respect.
"Bucky?" you said softly, careful not to startle him as you approached.
He turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes meeting yours with surprise. "Y/N? What are you doing here? I thought you were visiting your grandmother today?"
"I am; she lives here," you explained, a gentle smile gracing your lips.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.
Bucky took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, the weight of his thoughts evident in the furrow of his brow. "Alright, look,” running his hand through his hair nervously. “Dr. Raynor thought it would be good for me to volunteer here. Spend some time with people from my generation," he said. "I resisted at first, but now..." he paused, looking around at the bustling activity of the assisted living community. "It's nice.”
"That's awesome, Buck. It's clear that the residents appreciate having you around, but why didn't you mention it to us?" You inquired.
"I just didn't want to deal with the inevitable jokes and questions from everyone," he explained.
"Oh, come on, Bucky. It wouldn't have been that bad. They would have been supportive," you reassured.
"After you left, Tony told the bike story and bought you a kid’s bicycle as a joke," Bucky deadpanned.
"Jackass," you remarked dryly.
"See," Bucky declared.
"But a supportive jackass, Buck. We all give each other shit, but at the end of the day, we're a family," you insisted. "Everyone would get it."
"Maybe," he mused. "When I'm here, I'm not an Avenger, The Winter Soldier, The White Wolf. Hell, I’m not even Bucky."
"I've noticed that, James," you said with a smirk.
Before he could respond, your grandma and her friend Betty strolled over to where you were standing.
“James, I just had to tell you how much I enjoyed tonight's movie. You have impeccable taste,” Betty said, touching his metal arm.
“Thanks a lot,” Bucky replied.
“Will you join us for our knitting class next week?” she asked eagerly.
“Work can be unpredictable, but I'm planning on it,” he responded.
“Wonderful!” Betty exclaimed. “I've been knitting a scarf for you, honey.”
Bucky blushed. “Oh, thank you. I can't wait to see it.”
"I see you’ve met James, Y/N,” your grandma said. “We’ve so enjoyed having him here the last few months.”
“Oh,” you said, looking between Bucky and your grandmother. “Yeah, I just had to come up and tell him how much I loved the movie, too.”
“Right,” Bucky said. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Well, I’m feeling a bit tuckered out, Y/N,” your grandmother said. I think I'll call it a night.”
“Okay,” you said. “I'll walk you back to your room.”
“Okay, goodnight, James,” your grandmother said.
“Goodnight, Y/G/N,” Bucky replied.
You turned back toward him before following your grandma out of the room and whispered, “Don’t leave. I'll be down in a few minutes.”
Bucky nodded in agreement.
*^~^*
As you stepped off the elevator and entered the lobby, the warm glow of the chandeliers illuminated the spacious communal room. Your eyes scanned the area, searching for Bucky. After a moment, you spotted him sitting on the plush sofa, engrossed in a copy of Lord of the Rings, which he had plucked from the nearby shelf.
Sitting beside him, you couldn't help but ask, "So, what do people think James does for a living?"
With a half-smile, he replied, "Well, those who don't know who I am think I’m a mechanic at that garage on Wilshire."
The image of Bucky as a mechanic made you chuckle, and you leaned in to hear more.
"The ones who do, like Mr. Swanson, don't give a damn about who I am or who I‘ve been," he continued, returning the book to the shelf. "All they care about is living each day to the fullest."
As you silently nodded, you reflected on his words, feeling the weight of the conversation settle in. "I understand, Buck," you said, patting his thigh. "I'm glad you're finding fulfillment here, and you can trust me to keep this between us."
"Thank you," he sighed, a sense of relief in his voice.
"Let’s go home," Bucky said, a hint of determination in his tone.
As you both said goodbye to Joan in the lobby, you stepped out into the refreshing early evening breeze.
"Alright, see you at home," you said, heading towards the bus stop.
"You took the bus here?" Bucky inquired.
"Yeah, just didn't feel like driving today," you replied.
“Want a ride? I've got Nat's motorcycle," he offered, nodding towards the bike.
You arched an eyebrow, "Does she know you have it?" You knew Natasha didn't just lend her bike to anyone. You had learned that the hard way during one of your early missions together.
"Yep, she allows me to borrow the motorcycle in exchange for helping with recruit training," Bucky explained as he slipped on his leather jacket.
"Alright, I'll take your word for it," you agreed.
As you were getting ready to hop on the back of the motorcycle, you spotted the extra helmet hanging on the back. 
“Really?” Bucky quipped. “You never wear a helmet out in the field.”
“I know,” glancing back at The Doting Tree, “I just want to keep a promise to my grandmother,” you said with a smirk.
“Good call,” he replied with a grin.
You fastened the helmet and hopped on the back of the bike, wrapping your arms around Bucky’s waist. With a twist of the throttle, the bike roared to life as Bucky revved up the engine. Together, you both zoomed out of the parking lot, heading back toward the compound with a newfound sense of camaraderie and understanding.
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miguel-ohara-lover · 9 months
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Kinktober day 9 - Dad’s best friend
Prompt list
CW: nsfw, fem!reader, unprotected, implied breeding kink, very little plot
Note: So sorry this is out late I’ve been with my grandma all day so it’s been heard to write. And as always, feel free to ask to be on a tag list
Your dad was having one of his usual summer barbecues with his friends in the backyard. You outgrew that fun years ago, and only visited for old times sake. And perhaps to see a familiar face…
The time of the barbecue you spent mostly in your room after greeting everyone and grabbing the food you wanted. You watched a nice tv show, eating whatever you had grabbed in your rush to leave. When a knock came at your door you groaned, silently wishing it wasn’t your dad and you could be left to your peace.
“What?” You groaned once more. The door swung open and your dad’s best friend, Miguel O’hara, was standing there. A blush immediately spread across your cheeks. You had known Miguel almost your entire life and damn he only got hotter with age.
“I just wanted to see you. It’s been awhile, since you moved away.” Miguel leaned against the door frame. “May I come in?” You nodded and he entered, shutting the door behind him. He noticed your blush quickly, and his lips formed a gentle smirk.
He made his way over and sat in the edge of the bed, asking you to tell him about yourself since it had been so long. You stuttered at first, then as you grew more comfortable the words just flowed. He listened intently, it felt great to just talk and catch up.
As you two talked, Miguel looked into your eyes with such interest, as if he were staring into your soul. Your pussy was soaking wet just sitting near him. Part of you felt Miguel knew that, and it excited you.
He reached out and rubbed your arm gently. “You’re so beautiful.” He spoke up, making you blush even more. “You’ve grown so much since last I saw you, and you’ve grown into quite the gorgeous young lady.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” You smile and leaned closer to him. He chuckled and followed your movement, leaning toward you as well. Silence filled the room once again, you two admiring each other’s faces. Miguel leaned in closer, until your lips met in a soft gentle kiss.
He placed a hand on the back of your head as you two make out. He somehow ended up on top of you, his strong arms on either side of your head. Your hips lifted up a little, pressing against the quite obvious bulge in his pants.
You reached down and tugged at his pants. This shouldn’t be a surprise, you two had shared glances and flirty looks since you turned 19, you were just waiting for this moment. Miguel helped you shove his pants down, and you finally got a look at what you desired most.
His cock was stiff and leaking already, he was so aroused by just the sight of you. He moved his hands down and reached them up your skirt, pulling the soft frantic of your panties. His fingers rubbed between your pussy lips before slipping inside you, drawing a gasp from your beautiful lips.
Miguel stretched you slowly, edging you right until the point of climax, teasing your clit recently. Then he pulled away, making you whine and try to pull him back. He just chuckled and spread your slick on his cock. He then lined up, pressing the tip to your hole.
You but your lip nervously, moaning as he pushed in, stretching you far more than his fingers did. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he moved slowly, letting you adjust. You both knew you needed to pick up the pace, someone would surely notice him missing. He was as gentle as he could be while thrusting inside your virgin cunt, covering your mouth with his big hand to quiet you.
His free hand moved down and spanked your ass gently, making you let out a tel that turned into another moan. “Try to be quiet, dear.” He whispered as his pace quickened. You moaned against his hand, trying so hard to stay silent but it’s so hard with how often he’s hitting that special spot. His hand moved from your ass to your pussy, rubbing your clit as he thrusted faster.
You cried out as he tortured your pussy so much, you had never felt so much stimulation before. He loved your noises and wished he could make you scream with pleasure, but he knew the consequences. His hips stuttered a bit as he felt his release grow closer, wish each thrust he was pulled towards the edge just a little more.
It wasn’t long before you came, pussy clenching around his cock as you let out a louder cry of a moan. He captured your lips in a kiss to silence you as he spilled inside your cunt, filling you up with his seed. It felt heavenly, and fuck you wanted to feel that all the time now. You knew instantly that would become a problem, constantly craving his dick. You’ll deal with it later, for now your thoughts were brought back to the present.
He continued to thrust as you both rode out your orgasms, and you whined feeling overstimulated as his thrusted never stopped. He did after just a bit more, really driving that cum deep into you, perhaps he wanted to breed you, who knows. You panted slightly as he pulled out, his cock shiny covered in your slick.
You grabbed some napkins you had brought in with your food and cleaned the two of you up half assed, feeling very lazy and tired now. He just chuckled and tried to help you. Once done he laid down next to you.
“Don’t you have to go back to the barbecue?” You looked at him, his face an inch from yours.
“Eh. They won’t miss me.” He smiled and leaned in for a kiss.
———
@6thhokageswife @zaunsin @famouscattale @m4dyy @thedevax @migueloharastruelove @queerponcho @lynnxnnyl
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onlyfezco · 5 months
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Obvious - Fezco
Summary: You insist on meeting your cousin Rue's drug dealer and an interesting friendship develops in the process.
Fezco x Reader
Word Count: 4,840
Author's Note: Started this in March of 2022 and it's finally getting posted lol. This is my first Fezco fic since Angus' passing which is so hard to type I'm crying at that. I still miss him. A lot. Dividers from @firefly-graphics
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Rue was your closest cousin. Not that you had many, and the few you did have lived somewhere outside of East Highland, but that was beside the point. She was a year younger than you, so the two of you spent most of your childhood glued to one another. When her dad died, you saw the toll it took on her. You realized then that she started using but she played it off like she had it all under control. That’s what an addict does. Eventually you did confront her about it. She said it was mostly weed, so you let it slide. One day she had you drive her to restock her supply. That’s when you met Fezco for the first time.
“So you’re the guy selling my baby cousin drugs,” you blurted out after Rue did a quick introduction then started making her way to Ashtray behind the refrigerated drinks.
“Y/N, what the fuck,” Rue shouted at you annoyed. “You’re only a year older than me.”
“A year and three months,” you corrected. You only got specific with the three months to annoy Rue. You crossed your arms over your chest as you eyed the ginger sitting on the counter in front of you. “And how old are you?”
Fez observed you carefully. It’s not everyday some random person immediately brings up him selling drugs directly to his face. Especially a cute random person. “You always talk to new people like this?”
“Only when my cousin’s health is at stake.” You sighed and shook your head. “Look, I don’t have beef with you. I realized a while ago that Rue’s gonna do what she wants. I just want to make sure she’s being safe about it... well, as safe as you can get with drugs.”
Fez nodded along as you spoke understanding your concern for your cousin. He knew Rue wasn’t going around promoting that she was doing drugs or that he sold. You were just looking out for her. “I get it.”
“I’ve heard too many stories about people overdosing on Fentanyl or something they didn’t know was laced with Fentanyl. I don’t want to find out that happened to my cousin.”
“You don’t have to worry, ma. I don’t mess with that shit. All my stuff is good.”
You squinted at him taking in his words. “Better be. Otherwise I’m gonna kick your ass.”
Fez chuckled. He didn’t doubt for a second you wouldn’t fight behind Rue. “Understood.”
“You go to school with Rue? I ain’t never seen you ‘round before.” Fez went to most of the East Highland High School parties to deal. Since he’s never seen you there, either you didn’t go to that school, or you didn’t go to parties. Either way, he was missing out on you. 
“Oh God, no,” you said. “I go to Centenary.”
“Oh, so you smart smart.” You smiled and rolled your eyes at Fezco’s statement, and he decided right then and there that was something he wanted to see more of.
“Something like that,” you replied giggling.
“You ready to go, Y/N,” Rue popped up practically out of no where and asked. Damn, why did Rue have to be so quick.
“Uhh, yeah,” you said to your cousin. Rue shoved her hands into her dad’s old maroon jacket and started to walk out the store. You turned to Fezco and said, “I’m gonna be watching you, sir.”
Fez smiled at the thought. “I look forward to it, ma.”
After that, you made a few impromptu trips to Fez’s store without Rue. You told him your grandma lived in the neighborhood, which she did, so it wasn’t a lie. But Fez did point out that before Rue, you had never came to the store before. 
“I mean I could always go somewhere else for my carbonated beverages if you want,” you said as you turned on your heel to leave the store without making your usual purchase.
“Nah,” Fez replied grabbing your wrist stopping you, “I ain’t say all that.”
When your mom told you that Rue overdosed, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Maybe if you had told your Aunt Leslie what Rue was doing, she could have got some help. But you knew Rue. Ever since her dad’s death she had been struggling. She would have to finally deal with that grief if she was going to stop, and you knew that was the last thing she wanted to do.
A few days after Rue’s overdose, you went to visit Fezco. You weren’t sure if he knew or not. Even though he was her dealer, he was close to Rue, so you thought he should know. And it would be better coming from you than to hear it on the street.
“Well if it isn’t Y/N Y/L/N,” Fezco greeted you with a smile on his face. 
You tried to smile at the red head, but it was weak. “Hey Fezco.”
“What’s wrong,” Fez asked, immediately knowing something was up.
You walked to him fiddling with your fingers nervous to tell him about your cousin. “Uh... it’s Rue,” you said looking up at him with somber eyes. “She overdosed.”
Fez’s face became tense. He didn’t question it. He wasn’t shocked, just sad.
You couldn’t take looking into his piercing blue eyes any longer and set your eyes on the candy on the counter. “She’s still at the hospital going through withdrawals. Aunt Leslie’s going to put her in rehab when she gets out.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Fez said as he placed his hand on your arm to comfort you. Your eyes met his again and you could tell he genuinely felt bad.
“Its..,” you paused and laughed. “I was going to say it’s okay, but its not. She didn’t die, so that’s great but... I didn’t know it was this bad with her.”
Fez dropped his hand and leaned against the counter behind him. “Why’d you come here, ma?”
You looked at him confused. “What are you talking about? Rue’s your friend, I thought you should know.”
“She is but... you ain’t come here to blame me?”
You were taken aback. “No, Fez. It’s not your fault. Rue made a choice. And if she didn’t get her drugs from you, it would be someone else.”
Fez was quiet as he took in what you said. You wanted to, no, needed him to understand this wasn’t his fault. 
“Listen to me Fezco. Rue’s got a lot of problems that she has to deal with. She was using drugs to cope with her grief. I know you wouldn’t want her to OD. I’d rather know she was going to you for her fix, than some random guy who didn’t give two shits about whether or not she lived or died. So I don’t want you putting any of this on yourself, okay?”
Fez gave a small nod to let you knew he understood. You don’t know if he actually believed what you said, but you were glad it was out there. 
Over the summer, you visited the store more frequently. You did see him outside the store once at a pool party. Of course you pointed out that you’d never seen him at a party before. Your crowd was a little different than the East Highland High School bunch. Fez played it off though, but you knew he was only there for you. 
An unexpected hangout occurred one evening when you stopped by the store on a cloudy day. The flow of customers was already crazy slow, then it started raining and store had been empty besides you, Fez, and Ash for the last hour.  
“Aye, bro, can we go home? I’m bored as shit,” Ash said coming from behind the refrigerators. 
Fez looked to you sitting on top of the freezer that held the popsicles and ice-cream before he spoke. “Uh, yeah. Go head and pack up.”
You hopped off your self designated spot in store. “Welp, I guess that’s my queue to head home.” 
“Nah,” Fez said and stopped you in your tracks. “You ain’t gotta go home.”
“But I gotta get outta here,” you interrupted giggling. 
“Nah, ma. I was finna say you could come to my place and hang... if you want.”
Your eyebrows shot up. Fez’s and your relationship mostly consisted of you just hanging out at his store while he worked. The two of you texted every now and then, but that was about it. 
“Oh... Uh, sure,” you managed to stammer out. Then you realized that didn’t sound very enthusiastic so you added, “Yeah, I’d love to come over.”
You followed Fez and Ashtray home in your car since you drove yourself to the store. You were anxious the whole way there and the rain definitely wasn’t helping. 
Fez’s place looked homey. The living room felt familiar; the couches reminding you of your grandma’s house. 
“You want anythin’ to drank,” Fez asked making his way to the kitchen.
“Uh, no, I’m good. Thanks though,” you replied slowly making your way to where he went. It was always awkward the first time you went over to a friend’s house. 
Fez reappeared from the kitchen with a beer in his hand. He eyed you for a second before speaking. “You want to watch a movie or somethin’?”
The rest of the evening was spent on Fez’s couch, watching old 90′s movies. Even Ashtray joined you for one. It was nice. It felt normal, not like you somehow became friends with you cousin’s drug dealer.
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“Oh my God, Fezzy,” you shouted excitedly. “You won’t believe- Rue,” you paused when you saw your cousin coming from the back door that led to Ashtray. You glanced at Fez, then back to Rue. “What are you doing here?”
“Just popped in for a visit,” Rue answered. Her hands fidgeted in her pockets of her dad’s jacket. 
“Unhuh...,” you hummed knowing she didn’t just stop by to see the boys.
“What are you doing here,” Rue asked curious.
“I came by to see Fez,” you stated quickly. “You just got out of rehab, Rue.”
Rue rolled her eyes at you. “Yeah, and I had no plans on staying clean. I learned my lesson cuz. I know my limits now.”
You shook your head in disbelief. “You only know your limits cause you overdosed Rue! You almost died!”
“Key word being almost.”
“Oh my God,” you shook your head again turning away from the conversation. “I’ll talk to you later, Fez,” you said then turned to walk out of the store.
“Hey, Y/N,” Rue said and you stopped in your tracks. “You’re not gonna tell my mom are you?”
You huffed exhausted by your cousin. You telling her mom should be the least of her concerns. You still faced the door but turned your head to look at Rue. Your eyes glossed over with frustrated tears. “I wish you cared about yourself like the rest of us do.” 
Two weeks went by before you saw Fez again. The ginger was starting to think you blamed him for Rue’s relapse. Even though you had told him Rue made a choice to do drugs so it wasn’t his fault, your silence made him think you thought otherwise now. 
It was Sunday afternoon when Fez heard someone at his door. He looked through the peephole and saw you, then quickly opened the door.
“What’s up, ma?”
“Hey... I went by the store first but you weren’t there. I know I should have called or something, but I just wanted to see you.”
“Nah, you good. I’m just surprised is all.”
“Is this a bad time?”
“Nah, come in,” Fez said then stepped to the side to let you in. 
“Thanks,” you replied as you walked past him. You had only been in Fez’s place once, but it felt familiar. You just stood in the entry way while Fez closed the door. “Um, can we talk?”
“Yeah, come on,” Fez said nodding towards the living room. 
Fez took his usual place on the couch and you followed suit sitting beside him.
“I’m sorry about ghosting you these last two weeks,” you said, not being able to make eye contact with him. You felt guilty for ignoring him even though your issues were with Rue. Fez just sat there quiet. He wasn’t a man of many words, but you needed him to say something. “Not to sound cliché, but it was me not you.”
“It sure felt like it was because of me,” Fez said.
You turned on the couch to face him more. “It wasn’t, Fez. I promise. I’m mad at Rue, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”
“Yeah, but she got her drugs from me and Ash. I could have told her no.”
“And then she would have thrown a fit and went somewhere else. Probably somewhere dangerous.” 
“Why you keep makin’ excuses for me? You shouldn’t be anywhere near me.”
“What,” you asked, your eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “Fez, no, I don’t want to be anywhere else but near you.” You spoke before you could realize what you were saying but it was true. Fez finally looked towards you and you averted his eyes. The silence was too loud. You were careful with your next words. “If I have to tell you every day, then I will,” you said slowly then looked back up at him. “Rue’s choice to do drugs, and keep doing them after her OD, is hers and hers alone. It’s not your fault.” 
Fez took in what you said and how it made him feel then began to shake his head. “Nah, y/n. You tryin’ to justify it still don’t make it right.”
“Fine,” you said exhausted, throwing your hands up in the air. “It’s not right! Rue coping with drugs. You selling her drugs. None of it is right, okay! But Rue is family and you’re my friend. So I’m not going anywhere,” you shouted then just fell back into the couch crossing your arms over your chest. 
Fez just watched you from his place on the couch. Anger and annoyance evident on your face. The situation sucked, but Fez didn’t want to lose you. He was worried if Rue overdosed again, not only would he lose a sister, but you would never forgive him. Regardless of how much you told him it wasn’t his fault she was on drugs, he was the supplier. But, if you wanted to keep being friends with him, who was he to tell you no. 
“Aight, ma,” Fez drawled out in his usual tone. 
“Aight what,” you asked for clarification. 
“You’re right... and stubborn,” Fez said, trying to stifle a laugh. 
You eyed him cautiously. “Elaborate.” 
Fez stayed sitting forward, but turned his head turned towards you and let it fall back on the couch. “Rue’s gonna find a way to do drugs whether or not I give them to her. She was on them before she met me.”
You uncrossed your arms resting them in your lap as you sighed feeling sorry about your cousin. You hated the mess she got in and wished for nothing more than her sobriety. While you were thinking about Rue, Fez’s hand grabbed your forearm then slid down to your hand, pulling it so it was on the empty cushion space between you two, so he could hold it.
“And you’re right about us being friends,” Fez continued. You bit your lip trying to stop your grin from getting too big, and Fez returned a small smile. 
After that day, you had seen less of Fez than you usually had in the summer. It was your senior year, so you were busy trying to keep your grades up while staying active in your clubs. You explained your schedule to Fez so he didn’t trip at the fact that he was seeing less of you. 
Things between you and Rue were strained. After you talked to Fez, you talked to your cousin and told her if she kept doing drugs you weren’t going to stick around and watch her kill herself. You were no longer holding any sympathy for what she was going through. Your Aunt Leslie and Gia managed to keep living without having their grief hold them back, why couldn’t Rue at least try? But Rue became spiteful, not caring that you were cutting yourself off from her. 
You missed how things were in the summer. No stress. Rue was in rehab so you knew she was safe. Spending afternoons at Fez’s store. Missing Fez was how you found yourself at an East Highland party. One of your friends brought it up and you were quick to agree to the outing. You knew he would be dealing at the party, and that was more than enough of a reason to go.
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“Hey,” Rue said plopping down on the couch by Fez.
“What’s up, kid?”
“What’s going on with you and my cousin,” Rue asked, cutting straight to the chase. She was never one to beat around the bush.
“Whatchu mean,” Fez asked.
“Y/N doesn’t do parties. Especially not East Highland parties. And I know she’s not here for me.”
“Shit, she might be here for you,” Fez replied nonchalantly but he was hoping you were here for him. He missed seeing you on a regular basis. 
“Nah, she’s not even talking to me right now. Cut me off cause I won’t stop using. Trying to teach me a lesson or some shit,” Rue said while she rolled her eyes. “So much for family.”
“Don’t say that shit, Rue.” Fez was getting agitated, because he knew how much you cared for her. “That girl loves you. She just wants you to do better.”
“If she loved me, she wouldn’t leave,” Rue argued, her shoulders tensing up. 
“Nah, kid. That’s not how love works. She just doesn’t want to sit around and watch you kill yo’self.”
Rue sat there stunned, your words replaying in her head. “That’s exactly what Y/N told me... how much have you two been hanging out?”
Fez just shook his head as he took his blunt from behind his ear and lit it. “She misses you. Talk to her, Rue.”
You had been at the party for about an hour now. Attempting to play it cool as if Fez wasn’t the sole reason for you being there, you were trying to wait before you went and actually spoke to him. You noticed him a few minutes after you arrived. The two of you made eye contact and waved, but that was it.
Finally managing to leave your friends, you were making your way to Fezco when Rue stepped in front of you.
“Oh sor- hey Rue.”
“Hey, cuz,” Rue said. She looked... nervous. She was fidgeting with her jacket’s hood strings. Her eyes looking practically everywhere else but at you. “Um, can we talk for a sec?”
You looked past her to see Fez still sitting on the couch. Some guy coming up to him to make a deal. “Uh, yeah. Of course. Let’s step outside.”
Rue nodded, then you both made your way to the front door. There was too much going on in the backyard to have a private conversation there. You opened the door and let Rue step out into the cool night air first. 
You leaned against one of the front porch beams while Rue just stood there awkwardly and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. 
The silence between you two was awkward which was a first. You tried to wait for Rue to speak, but she struggled to find the words.
“What’s up, Rue?”
“Umm, I just- I,” Rue stammered out while she fidgeted in her spot. “Shit, I’m sorry, Y/N. We’ve never not talked to each other like this and I hate it. I miss you.”
You sighed, sorrow filling your eyes. “I miss you, too, cousin.”
Rue’s eyes glossed over as she started to smile. “Uh, I haven’t been using as much anymore.”
You reached out and placed your hand on her wrist for a moment. “That’s great.”
Rue nodded, her eyes dogging around. “Yeah... I met someone.”
“Oh,” you replied, your eyebrows rising up in surprise. You were thrilled Rue was using less, but you knew if her sobriety was because of a person, it wouldn’t last long. “Do I know them?”
“No, she’s new. Her name is Jules.”
“Jules,” you repeated, making sure you pronounced it right.
Rue nodded, her smile growing bigger. “Yeah, she’s here tonight. Pretty blonde in the bright pink mini skirt.”
“You look happy.”
She ran her fingers through her curls, pushing her hair back. “I’m working on it.”
It was quiet for a moment as you looked down at your cousin. “Hey, Rue.”
“Yeah?”
“I know we haven’t been talking, but... you know I’m here if you need me.” You placed your hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
“I know,” Rue said nodding. Then you placed your other hand on her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. Since you were on the step above her, you towered over her in the hug so you sat your chin on her head.
“Okay... you can let go now, Y/N,” Rue said after you were holding onto her a little too long.
“No, gotta make up for lost time,” you said, hugging her tighter.
“It wasn’t that much time.”
“It felt like forever,” you said dragging out the r then placing a bunch of kisses on Rue’s head.
“Ew, okay okay, I get it,” Rue said squirming in your arms. “Why don’t you go and kiss Fez?”
You stopped abruptly, pulling back slightly to look down at Rue. “Why would you say that? Did he... did he say something to you?”
Rue gently pushed herself out of your arms. “No, but it’s obvious something is happening between you two.”
“What,” you asked shaking your head, nervously running your hand over your hair. “Nothing’s happening. We’re just friends.”
“Yeah, friends who wanna fuck,” Rue replied. She was always the blunt one in the family. 
“Rue!”
“Am I wrong,” she asked, her eyes on you.
“Uhh-I mean...”
“Un huh. Just tell him how you feel,” Rue said as she started to make her way back into the party.
“You say that like it’s so easy.”
Rue turned around so she was walking backwards now. “It is when the other person likes you back.” Then she turned back around and you lost sight of her in the sea of people.
“But...,” you shouted then began to whisper since you no longer saw her, “how do you know he likes me?”
Now you were nervous. You weren’t really one to flirt, at least not on purpose anyway. It was one thing to act normal around Fez and pretend you didn’t have a huge crush on him, it was another for someone to tell you he liked you and pretend to be normal. What if Rue was wrong? What if whatever sign she was getting from Fezco, was just him being a good friend, and not him being interested in you?
You made your way back into the party, but completely passed by the living room and went straight for the bathroom. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a line so you went right in. You locked the door then went to the mirror to look at yourself. Everything was still in place. Your lipstick was perfect. Your hair styled the way you liked it. Now, if only you could get that look of fear off your face. 
“Breath, Y/N,” you said to yourself. You took a long exhale then inhaled. “Rue wouldn’t lie to you... well, maybe about drugs but not about this. And it’s Fez. Just put out some feelers to see where his head is at.” You nodded at yourself then turned the faucet on to splash a little water on yourself. Then your eyes grew wide as you thought, looking at yourself in the mirror again. “But what if he’s just being nice? IT’S FEZ! He’d never intentionally be mean to me. So how will I know if he’s only being polite and not actually flirting with me. Ughh!”
You dried your hand on a nearby towel then turned away from the mirror. You took some deep breaths to try and shake off the nervous feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. “Okay. It’s fine. You’re fine.” You thought about every time you hung out with Fez over the summer. Going to his house for the first time. Him giving you candy for free at the store. Him holding your hand on his couch. Fez was a good friend and you didn’t want to lose that, but you couldn’t keep holding your feelings for the ginger in. 
“Hey Y/N,” Fezco said once you stopped in front of him. A small smile growing on his lips. Somehow his eyes managed to shimmer in the crappy living room lighting. 
“Uh can you give me a ride home? I don’t feel so hot and I can’t find my friends.”
Technically it wasn’t a lie. You didn’t feel great. Your anxiety about asking Fez how he felt about you made you sick to your stomach.
“Sure thing, ma,” Fez replied, getting up from the couch without a second thought. Add that to the list of reasons you liked Fez. He would drop everything for you. The party wasn’t done so there was still money to be made, yet here he was, walking you out the party to his car.
The ride was quiet and awkward which was unusual. You only felt awkward around Fez when you had to bring up Rue’s drug addiction. Glancing over at Fez, he was oblivious to the worry that was going on in your head. His eyes focused on the dark road ahead as he nodded along to the music. The streetlights highlighting his freckles as you drove through the neighborhood. 
“Do you like me,” you asked, interrupting Fez.
Fez’s eyes left the road for a moment confused at your sudden change in the conversation. He readjusted himself in his spot before he spoke. “Yeah, course I like you. Wouldn’t be giving you a ride home if I didn’t.”
You shook your head annoyed. “No, Fez. I mean do you like like me? Like if we were in middle school and you found a note in your locker that said ‘do you like me? Yes or no.’ Which one would you circle?”
“Oh.”
Oh. OH! What did he mean by oh. Your brain was running a mile a minute now. Fez better say something else and quick. 
After what felt like forever, but was only about 5 seconds. “Yeah... thought it was obvious I was feelin’ you.” 
You let out a breathy laugh in disbelief. “Obvious?”
“Yeah, I mean I thought you was real cute that first day you came in the store grillin’ me about what I was sellin’ Rue.” Fez chuckled to himself remembering that day.
“You thought I was cute,” you asked baffled. This was all so confusing for you. 
Fez shook his head, eyes still focused on the road. “You gonna just keep repeating everything I’m sayin?”
“Uhh, yeah,” you replied, your eyes wide trying to prosses what he was saying to you. “It doesn’t make sense and you’re being so nonchalant about this.”
“How am I supposed to be?”
“I don’t know,” you answered, your hands flailing around. “Not like this! Just a minute ago I was freaking out wondering if I would ruin our friendship, or if there was even the slightest chance you liked me back... and you do. My brain can’t comprehend.” 
Fezco put his car in park and you realized you were in front of you house. “Well, comprehend, ma.”
You slouched back in your seat staring out at the road ahead of you taking it all in. Rue was right. “What do we do now?”
Fez reached over the center console and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. “Well, we could start with a date?”
You turned at looked at Fez, biting your lip to stop your smile from getting too big. “I’d like that,” you said, nodding your head.
“Cool,” Fez said smiling. 
“Cool,” you repeated grinning right back. 
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, just staring at one another. 
“You know what. I’m feeling way better now.”
“Really?”
“Yeah... don’t think I’m quite ready to go inside yet.”
“You got something in mind?”
“Not really,” you said, pausing to think for a second. “Just not ready to leave you yet,” you replied, squeezing his hand a little while rubbing your thumb back and forth on the back of his hand.
Fezco’s checks got incredibly hotter as he looked away from you avoiding your eyes. He let go of your hand and put his car back in drive beginning to drive off then said, "I think I know a place."
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unclewaynemunson · 1 year
Text
A soft knock on the door and a half-whispered "hey there" wake Eddie up from an uneasy sleep. A strip of light shines through the gap of the door, illuminating the figure of Steve standing in the doorway.
"I got some soup for you. Are you feeling any better?"
Eddie shuffles into an upright sitting position while Steve comes into the room and hands him a warm bowl filled with what's unmistakably his aunt's homemade creamed potato soup. Even with his blocked nose, Eddie can still tell that it smells exactly how he remembered it.
Before he knows it, tears start blurring his vision. It's the fucking soup that does it. The smell that brings back memories he tried so hard to leave behind when he suddenly had to leave what he once called his home more than ten years ago.
“Oh, honey,” says Steve in a voice that is so soft and caring that it makes Eddie want to cry even more. He sits down on the bed, right next to Eddie, and wraps both his arms around him, careful not to spill any of the soup. “This fucking sucks, right?”
“It does,” Eddie says quietly, and that's really all he needs to say. Steve will understand. Steve knows exactly how much Eddie was looking forward to this week, how excited he was to return to the mountains and to be reunited with his family and to show Steve all the places that hold so much meaning to him. 
For ten years he hadn't been able to visit. He had missed the mountain air like a chopped-off limb and seen his cousins grow up only through grainy polaroid pictures. And now that he's finally here, his body decided to betray him and keep him chained to his bed with the worst fucking cold he’s ever had.
It's been so long since he has been home that it almost doesn't really feel like home anymore. He never wanted to leave in the first place, but the circumstances gave him no choice. When his dad got locked up Eddie had nowhere else to go but to his Uncle Wayne, who lived states away and who he had only met twice before in his life. He had to leave everyone he cared about behind: his grandma, who would've taken him in within a heartbeat if she hadn't been too old to take care of a ten-year-old kid; his mother, who had already slipped away too deep into her addictions to keep Eddie around in good conscience; his aunt and uncle, who had too many mouths to feed with too little money and couldn't afford the additional burden of another rapidly growing teenager; and his many cousins, of course, who grew up side-by-side with him and made the move feel like he was leaving an unmissable part of his soul behind.
Granted, moving in with Wayne soon turned out to be not by far as dramatic as Eddie had prepared himself for. It turned out that Wayne was actually a better parent to Eddie than his dad ever was. But no matter how much love and care Wayne gave him over the years, it could not be enough to replace home. Nothing was.
Ten years had passed since Eddie left. Most of the cousins moved out, either to find a better life for themselves or to follow the path that Eddie's father had taken. Some of them had kept in touch with Eddie, some of them hadn't. Some of them had gained a family of their own, with spouses and nephews and nieces who Eddie never got to meet.
And now he's back, and everything keeps going differently than how he envisioned it.
He blinks away his tears and tries to eat as much as he can stomach of his aunt's soup.
“Your cousin Jay called,” Steve tells him. “He insisted on visiting tomorrow, whether you're feeling better or not. He said he can’t wait to see you.”
“That's nice,” Eddie answers flatly. “D'you know he hasn't reached out to me in years?” He sighs. “It's so weird to be back here. I thought it would be different.”
“Different how?”
“More like coming home, I guess. But all the places have changed. I barely know some of those people anymore.”
He places the unfinished bowl of soup aside. Steve pulls him closer in his arms and presses a gentle kiss on his curls.
“I've felt so angry about Hawkins for so long,” Eddie admits to him, “but now it's like I don't belong here anymore either.”
“You do belong in Hawkins, you know,” Steve tells him.
Eddie huffs.
“No, I'm serious,” Steve insists. “Has Wayne ever told you that he thinks you coming to live with him was the best thing that ever happened to him?” He doesn't wait for an answer as he continues: “And your bandmates, the Hellfire Club, all those lost sheepies you've been looking out for over the years... Maybe Hawkins didn't exactly welcome you with open arms when you just came there, but you made a home there. You did that.”
“And where are you on that list, Stevie?” Eddie asks, a teasing edge returning to his voice despite how awful he’s still feeling.
It takes Steve a few seconds to answer, but when he does, he sounds surprisingly soft and genuine, almost shy.
“Wherever you want me to be.”
“Don't worry big boy,” Eddie tells him softly, nuzzling his face into Steve's chest, where it's warm and where the sound of Steve's heartbeat forms a comforting presence. “You're the most important part of what home means. Top of the list, whether we're in Hawkins or here in the south or on the other side of the world.”
Steve hums and kisses Eddie's temple.
“I do wish this week would've been more like how you wanted it to be,” he says. “But for what it's worth, it sounded like Jay was really excited about reconnecting with you. Let's see if you can sleep off this cold, and tomorrow will be a new day, alright?”
Steve starts to pull away to leave Eddie alone in the bed again, but Eddie clenches his fists around the fabric of his polo.
“Stay with me?”
Steve chuckles softly. “Of course.”
He sits back down on the bed with his back against the wall and gently manhandles Eddie until he's lying with his head in Steve's lap. And with Steve's fingers softly stroking through his hair, Eddie quickly drifts back to sleep again.
Tomorrow will be a new day. And even if being back is bittersweet, at least Steve is with him - and the sound of Steve's heartbeat will always be home.
This one's for my dear friend dae @strawberryspence because sometimes life sucks and while nothing can actually solve it, some warm soup and a loving hug can at least make things a little bit more bearable <3
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gigicreates562 · 11 months
Text
The Bet- Fred Weasley x Reader
Y/n bets Fred that she can get him to admit his jealousy before the end of the week. It does not go how either of them planned. 
TW: none
Word Count: 2,900
--------------------
“You’re an idiot” George stated plainly.
“Hang on- what have I done already? It’s only 9 in the morning” Fred retorted.
“The bet”
“Godric, she works quickly. How does everyone know already?”
“Because you’ve gone absolutely mental thinking you can win!” Lee piped in as he sat down at the table, “Everyone’s talking about how badly you’re going to lose”
Fred’s mind drifted back to last night.
“What did he kill your grandma or something? Why are you looking at him like that?” Y/n teased.
“Like what?” Fred replied, with his eyes still locked on Draco.
“Hang on are you jealous?”
“No,” He argued, still eyeing the Slytherin boy, “How did he get ahold of your gloves in the first place?”
“I left them there after our one-night stand last week.”
“What?” Fred’s focus whipped to her.
“You are jealous!”
“I’m not! Just …concerned for your well-being. Did you actually?”
“Of course not you twat. I left them at quidditch practice and he picked them up for me,” She answered, watching as Fred went back to eyeing Draco, “Why won’t you admit you’re jealous?”
“Because I’m not”
“Right… Interesting”
“What is?” Fred finally relaxed as Draco went out of the room.
“That you are jealous, but you just won’t admit it,” Y/N replied as she shoved his shoulder playfully.
“I won't admit it because I’m not jealous,” Fred said pushing her shoulder right back, “Why do you care? I think you want me to be jealous,”
“Wanna bet?”
“On what?”
Fred was slightly anxious. Deep down he knew he was a little jealous. Protective even. But he knew if he admitted it, it would mean admitting his feelings for her, which he was NOT ready to do just yet.
“I bet that I can make you admit you’re jealous by the end of this week,” Y/n challenged.
“You’re on.”
“Good,” Y/n stuck out her hand for him to shake.
“Hang on,” Fred took a confident step closer, instantly making y/n hyper-aware of their proximity, “What do I get if I win?” Fred brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, clearly testing her.
“If you win,” Y/n whispered while taking another step impossibly closer, “I’ll do your potions homework for a week.”
She could feel his chest against hers now but she was not backing down now.
“But if I win,” she continued, “You have to ask me to the Yule Ball- In front of everyone.”
“Deal,” Fred scoffed and shook her hand.
“Drag it out as long as you can mate, I’ve started a betting pool” George held up a pouch full of sickles, ever so annoyingly.
“WHY is everyone so convinced I’ll lose?” Fred hissed.
“Because you’re head over heels for her! And because of that,” Lee pointed behind him. All the boys directed their attention to the front of the Great Hall.
“Bloody Hell” George laughed out.
There she was. Standing at the front of the great hall in all her glory was y/n. But instead of her usual sweater and jeans, she sported a tight black turtle neck with a leather skirt resting just below her mid-thigh cleverly directing everyone’s eyes down her toned legs covered by sheer black pantyhose wrapped up neatly by a pair of stunning black heels. She looked absolutely drop-dead gorgeous and much to Fred’s dismay everyone recognized it.
She was currently surrounded by a gaggle of third years, shamelessly trying to catch the older girl’s attention. But there was one specific person who made Fred’s blood boil. To Y/n’s right- stood Cormac, ever the overconfident flirt, making Y/n laugh. Fred couldn’t believe it. He almost, almost, stood up, but at the last second Y/N caught his eyes, so Fred sat back down and directed his attention back to his food.
“Oi! Fred!” Dean Thomas called, approaching Fred, “Are you and Y/N still seeing each other?”
“We were never seeing each other Dean,” Fred hissed through clenched teeth.
“Oh. So you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out?” Lee asked bluntly. George had the nerve to laugh at the 4th year’s audacity, earning a glare from his twin across the table.
“Go right ahead,” Fred approved.
“Wicked.” Dean hurried away towards y/n fixing his robes as he went.
“Have I mentioned you’re entirely, utterly, and completely stupid?” George reminded once more.
“Shut up.”
That afternoon Fred sat at the desk in y/n’s room patiently awaiting her arrival. She was supposed to meet him 10 minutes ago, but still no sign of her.
Five more minutes passed and Y/N finally rolled in. Amongst her hair sat a small red flower tucked behind her ear delicately.
“What is that?” Fred pointed to the improvised hairpiece.
“A flower. Dean gave it to me. Red for love or Gryffindor or some rubbish. I don’t know.”
“So now you’re flirting with Dean Thomas? He’s two years below us!”
“Not flirting Fred, simply accepting a gift. Why? Are you jealous?” She challenged crossing to lean on the desk near him.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Right,” She relented rolling her eyes, “Well then, ready to study?”
“If we must”
Some days came and went and pretty soon it was Wednesday.
How on Earth is it only Wednesday? Fred thought. He was miserable.
For the past three days, he watched boys trip over themselves just to get near Y/N. He didn’t think she’d carried her own books to class the entire week, not to mention the sweets on her desk had now grown to be a small mountain. It seemed everyone in Hogwarts was determined to make him forfeit. But Fred, just as stubborn as y/n, would not give in that easily.
Today was the Slytherin vs Hufflepuff game. Fred and George routinely made their way up to the stands to support their best friend and third favorite beater: Y/n.
“Bloody hell I’ve never seen the Slytherin stand so packed,” Fred commented as he pushed through the crowd.
“Not to put salt on your wound mate, but I think you know why they’re here” George replied making his own way to the front.
“Unfortunately I’m painfully aware.”
“You have to admit. She does look pretty bloody hot when she’s playing” George poked,
Receiving a sharp smack on his chest from his twin.
“Hey hey! I am not the enemy… Simply pointing out the obvious,” He added.
Smack
“Alright!!”
~~~
“That was mad!” Lee exclaimed.
“I’ve never seen Hufflepuff eat shit that badly” George added.
“Come on. Let’s go find her” Fred said. He may have been in a bad mood, but even he couldn’t deny that it was an amazing game for Slytherin. The boys journeyed down the stairs to wait for the team outside the showers. As they got closer Fred rolled his eyes at the sight before him.
“Sorry gents!” Fred loudly announced to the small village waiting outside the showers for Y/n, “Y/N has already left! Snuck out through the back. Looks like you’ll have to obnoxiously fight for her affections some other time,” he ended, clapping a few of them on their backs.
Fred’s call seemed to clear out most of the crowd including a very disappointed Dean Thomas.
“Right then, that’s better,” Fred sighed.
“You’re encouragable” George muttered.
“Are those my favorite twins I hear?” Y/N exclaimed as she exited the locker room. Her hair was damp and beginning to curl up from the shower and lack of a proper comb.
“That was bloody brilliant,” George congratulated as he hugged her tightly.
“That was a pretty gruesome game,” Fred said, abandoning his usual cocky persona for a more timid one.
“And here I thought you wouldn’t come,” Y/N cood as she crossed over to Fred.
“I’m not jealous.”
“Didn’t say you were”
George cut in, “Right, as entertaining as you two are, I’ve got a date with my pillow. Great game Y/n.” George clapped her on the back and made a quick exit.
“He’s right you know” Fred turned toward the girl.
“About what?”
“You were pretty ‘bloody brilliant’,” he mocked his twin’s tone.
“Thanks, It helped to have my good luck charm in the stands as usual,” she beamed at him.
“Yeah… Well, I’m off then,” Fred said beginning to leave.
“Fred!” She halted the boy, “Um- Well I just… Thanks for coming.”
“Yeah of course.”
~~~
The party was a rager. Gryffindor had just won the Friday match and it seemed like all of Hogwarts was celebrating. The common room was packed with people from all different houses dancing, chatting, and of course drinking.
There was only one rule to get in: you’ve got to wear red and gold.
Fred, however, made sure to deliberately leave that detail a mystery to Y/N. As usual, he had a plan. He figured that this being the last night of their little bet, she would be plotting a scheme of her own, so he would have to beat her before she beat him. His plan was simple: she would show up at the door, not wearing the required colors, and he would graciously offer him his jersey. With no other option, she would be forced to wear a shirt with a big fat “WEASLEY” on the back, easily warding off potential suitors. Now all he had to do was wait for her to show up.
And show up she did. His plan was right on track. She approached the portrait hole confidently; strutting up in an emerald green Slytherin sweater. Perfect.
“Ope, sorry love, gonna have to stop you there.” Fred said blocking her path, “Red or gold required to get in.”
“What?”
“Yup. No entry for green. Sorry darling,” Fred smiled at her oh so sweetly. Y/N tried to ignore the little flutter of her heart when he used that pet name for her.
“But you are in luck!” He continued, “I just so happen to have this!” Fred proudly pulled out and presented his jersey to her, thinking he had won.
“Mhm. Let me get this straight,” Y/n exaggerated, “You ‘just so happen’ to have forgotten to tell me the dress code, and you ‘just so happen’ to have a shirt for me, but it ‘just so happens’ that it has the word ‘WEASLEY’ plastered all over the back?” She saw right through him.
“Yup,” Fred popped the p of the word as he held out the shirt to her.
But Fred had made one fatal mistake, he had forgotten the very reason he fancied this particular woman oh so much: her boldness.
“Right,” She began to speak loudly, as to attract the attention of everyone in the room, “SO I CAN'T COME IN WITH THIS SHIRT, BUT IF I CHANGE TO RED OR GOLD I CAN ENTER?”
“Yes?” Fred hesitated. What was she up to?
“WELL FINE!” She exclaimed, and Fred watched in shock and might he say admiration as the next few actions unfolded in front of him.
Y/n reached down and proudly pulled off her shirt over her head, revealing a bright red bra underneath.
Fred gaped at her. He definitely had not seen this coming, but by god was that attractive. He didn’t know if it was her confidence or just the proximity to her shirtless chest, but Fred Weasley was truly at a loss for words.
“Let the woman in!” Someone shouted from the crowd, and Fred stepped aside to watch as she walked past smirking. How did his plan manage to go that badly?
“It’s alright mate you made a valiant effort,” George appeared patting his shoulder, “But if you do lose I’ve got five galleons on it. I suppose I could share some of the profit.”
“I need a drink,” Fred uttered.
“That’s the spirit.”
~~~
The party raged on, and it was getting dangerously close to midnight. Y/n knew she had to finish this and fast. Luckily, she had the advantage. Fred had been hitting the fire whisky pretty hard, and best of all Cormac had entered the ring once more.
“Hey,” Y/n said approaching Cormac, “You played pretty well, I couldn’t help but watch.”
Actually, she could. She hadn’t even noticed him. In fact, she was pretty sure she was transfixed with a certain Gryffindor beater for most of the game, but she put that aside for now. She was winning this bet.
“Hello beautiful,” He smiled. She internally cringed at his words but persisted.
“Can I sit?”
“Of course” Cormac shoved over to make room for her. Y/n glanced at the clock, getting slightly nervous. 11:30. 30 more minutes- time to be bold. She stole a glance in Fred’s direction, who unfortunately seemed distracted talking to Lee, and with a deep inhalation, sat directly on Cormac’s lap.
“Well hello,” he praised as he placed a hand on her thigh. She fought the urge to move it away and pushed onward once more.
“Hello,” she flirted, glancing back at Fred again. Still not watching. Fuck. Why won’t he look at her? Why won’t Cormac STOP looking at her? Abruptly Y/n became startlingly aware of her shirtlessness.
“You look quite fit tonight. Really a killer outfit,” he joked.
She laughed, LOUDLY, Too loudly to seem natural but it seemed to have caught George’s eye. She hoped he would deliver the news to Fred. The clock was ticking.
Carefully, she placed a hand on Cormac’s chest.
“So do you, but maybe that’s just the fire whiskey talking,” Y/n flirted.
Now it was Cormac’s turn to laugh. Smoothly, he moved his hand from her thigh to her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her chest felt so exposed up against his Jersey, but she had to keep pressing forward. The conversation was going slow, too slow. 11:45. Where was Fred?
“Tell me Y/n- was this bra for me? Or was this just a happy accident,” her brain was screaming at her to bail. To call the whole thing off. But she was so close, Fred would be here soon. She was sure of it.
“Well I-“
“Y/n.” Fred FINALLY cut in. “Can I have a word?”
~~~
Fred ushered her quickly into his room. 11:50.
“The hell was that?” Fred was seething, “Cormac? I knew you were stubborn but I didn’t think you were that cruel.”
“Why? Jealous?” She teased, not quite grasping just how angry he was.
“Why is this a game to you? Why am I a game to you?” Fred sat down facing away from her, raking his fingers through his copper hair.
Y/n was dumbstruck. What just happened?
“What?” She was thoroughly confused.
Fred continued from his seat, “This whole thing. Do you think I wanted to be jealous? Do you think that I like how unreasonably irritated I get when someone else wants to carry your books? Why did you have to go and embarrass me for it? I’m sorry I ever even cared for you like that.”
“Fred- like what? What are you saying?”
“You know well what I mean. It’s already painful enough knowing I’m just a friend.”
“Fred, I guess I’m confused I-”
“I’m in love with you alright? I was perfectly fine loving you in secret! Why did you have to go and mess it all up?” He confessed, his temper getting the better of him. “Just forget it. Clearly, my feelings aren’t that important to you” He stood quickly and headed for the door.
“Fred wait!” He barreled out the door and down to the common room attempting to weave through all the people. Y/n was hot on his tail. “Fred- wait- please- just slow down a minute!”
He continued to push through and out of the portrait.
“Fred!” She followed just behind him, but he didn’t stop. Barreling all the way down through passageways and tunnels until finally reaching the boat house. He stopped on the edge of the dock, and she followed.
“You twat!” She accused.
“Oh, I’m the twat? You’re ridiculous,” He scoffed, turning to face her to argue further, but before he could she cried out.
“Oh for fucks sake!” Roughly, she grabbed the collar of his robes and yanked him closer to her, planting his lips directly on hers before removing them again.
He stared at her shocked, and for the second time tonight, Fred was at a loss for words.
“Did you seriously think I did all of this to embarrass you? Fred, I’m in love with you! I just was tired of dropping hints all the time, so I was hoping this might push you to admit your feelings. I had no idea it would go this far.”
“You- you love me too?”
“Of course I do! Fred, you and I both saw this week, that if I wanted to date someone else I could. But I don’t, okay? Can you get that through your thick skull?”
He stared at her. She stared at him. Gingerly, he approached her raising a hand up to hold her cheek in his palm.
“Y/n?” He whispered.
“Fred?”
The boy slowly moved his hand to grab her chin and pulled her lips closer, but just before they touched he stopped. Smirking he uttered, “It’s 12:05. You owe me some potions homework.”
“You’re insufferable,” she muttered as she finally closed the gap between them.
The kiss was slow and deliberate. The new couple was savoring their first real taste of each other. He tastes just like caramel she noted as he lightly nipped at her bottom lip. Y/n reached up to his neck to pull him closer, but Fred broke the kiss.
“Would you like to take this upstairs?” He asked, “Although the dress code for my room is no red so you’ll probably have to take that off.”
“Prick,” She said with a smile as she brought her lips back down to his. 
668 notes · View notes
hedgehog-moss · 1 year
Text
A day in the life of Pampérigouste & her long-suffering daughter
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I went on a llama safari today, following the girls around to see how they keep busy on winter afternoons, and what I’ve learnt is that Pampe is the only one of my animals who tries to find food when the weather is like this.
I know I’m biased when it comes to interpreting my delinquent llama’s behaviour, but it really looked like Pampe was playing at being a wild llama, eating twigs and bark and such, while the others faffed around because they know they are domesticated animals who are fed at regular intervals. Pirlouit wouldn’t even follow us around the pasture, he just waited by himself near the moose in case the hay fairy came in our absence; Pampelune stayed with her family but didn’t bother foraging, she was like “My ten years of experience have taught me that humans always give us lots of hay on snowy days. This is a waste of time.”
Baby Poldine was like “My ten months of experience have taught me that it’s better to listen to my grandma than to my mum, but she looks really happy to teach me this stuff”
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The Winter Survival lessons involved teaching Poldine how to eat the first hazel catkins—
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—and which trees have bark that comes off easily. Pampelune just stood behind watching them like “... you don’t have to eat tree bark.” Pandolf & I also declined to partake and although Poldine gamely tried to gnaw at some tree bark, she quickly became self-conscious.
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Pampérigouste then disappeared into a thicket (the same one where I once found secret elder trees!) and Pampelune was like “The good thing about my child being an adult is I no longer have to follow her” and waited outside like the dignified grandma she is, while Pampe dragged baby Poldine god knows where.
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When I managed to find them again in this snowy tangle of branches and brambles, Pampoldine was trying to eat a twig, looking unconvinced, and she got a nose kiss for the effort.
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We finally emerged from the thicket and Pampe stood pensively for a second, then went “Oh! idea” and bolted, to Pandolf’s immense delight. The rest of us followed more warily.
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... Pampe wanted to demonstrate that in places where the old fence still stands, you can reach for forbidden grass by shoving your face through the netting. (Yes there is Allowed Grass 20cm to the right; no Pampe will not dignify this remark with a response.)
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Poldine tried and immediately got her nose caught in the fence and started shaking her head & the fence desperately. She really wasn’t made for crime.
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The last survival lesson was about rummaging in the snow looking for grass. Pampelune does it too when it’s a thin coating of snow, but when it’s deeper she doesn’t bother.
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I hope you enjoyed this llama winter safari !
Conclusion:
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2K notes · View notes
callmelola111 · 1 year
Text
my summer of you ♡ part one
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✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2   - - - -   inspo track ⭑ till there was you
synopsis: being sent to your grandparents for the summer was supposed to be a punishment, but when you came face-to-face with your neighbor, you knew it’d be quite the opposite.
      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: loser!ellie williams x neighbor!reader. wc: 4k
      | ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, sexual themes but no smut (yet), mentions of religion, tense family relations, perv!ellie makes an appearance, mostly cute fluff moments with a tad bit of angst
a/n: i’ve literally wrote and rewrote so many different fic ideas, it actually was driving me insane. but finally here’s something i’m somewhat satisfied with. this will be a 2 part series so no crazy long wait, and ofc there will be smut. lollipop bit was definitely inspired by the movie hot summer nights except gay and no timothee chalamet jump scare. love you all dearly ♡~ lola
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Your 2 vintage suitcases, bursting at the seams, fell to the sidewalk with a thud as you stood in front of your new home for the summer. It was an older house with light blue paneling on the sides, an expansive green lawn, and a wrap-around porch, all surrounded by a classic white picket fence.
Bolting out the front door was the most eager old woman you’d ever seen. Your sweet, sweet grandma. She wrapped you in the biggest embrace and the smell of old Chanel perfume and Jergens lotion overwhelmed your senses. The old woman continued crying out your name pestering you with 1,000 kisses. You erupted in a giggle, expressing the same sentiments of love.
The reason for your stay was less heartwarming. After you had wrapped up your first year at university, your overbearing and uber religious parents caught wind of some of the stuff you were up to while there. In their words, you were “impulsive”, “wreckless”, and “just plain stupid”. But in all actuality, you had just smoked some weed, got wasted, and hooked up with some girls.
Nothing too crazy considering it was your first year of freedom, but of course they flipped and decided banishing you to your grandparents for the summer would be best. And although you were less than ecstatic about them being angry with you, the resulting consequence left you anticipating the perfect summer. I mean come on… a gorgeous old house, right by the beach, home cooked meals, and no one to bother you. How could you not get excited? 
✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  
Soon, you find yourself strolling along hot sidewalks of the small beach town, wandering into every little place that piques your interest. The first was an antique mall. You ventured through the heaps of knick knacks, furniture, and clothes, finally landing on the sweetest tea cup. It was delicate ivory with a thinly curved handle. Painted on the front; a pair of kittens adorned in pink ribbon. You then stumbled into a 50’s themed sweets shop where you purchased a single cherry flavored lollipop which landed in your mouth as soon as you walked out the door. And finally, you came across a quaint bookshop that was practically begging for you to come inside. 
Pushing the old wooden door open you entered, followed by a small melodic bell announcing the new presence. This caught a young individual's attention. Revealing her collection of freckles and short auburn hair, the girl looked up from behind the mahogany counter to greet you. The employee's smile was adorably toothy and the evening sun leaking through the windows made her practically glow. Your eyes remained locked on the girl's face for a little longer than you’d like but it was worth every second. 
Candy in hand, you toured the towering shelves of tattered books and baskets of old magazines, not really knowing what you were looking for. And still considerably distracted by the dreamy woman manning the front desk. That is until a loud creak of the floorboards stole you from your reverie and left you face to face with the culprit of these thoughts.
“Hi- uh, did you need help finding anything today?” she questioned, giving you a slow look up and down.
“Hmm I’m not sure yet,” you took a long pause to regain a little sense of decorum, “Got any recommendations for me Ellie?” Her eyes went wide in confusion before you gestured to the silver plate pinned to her shirt, pointing out the obvious. “Your nametag hun.”
“Oh, right” she looked down sheepishly at the pet name, “Ummm let me think…” Her voice trailed off again and you popped the sticky, red lollipop back in your mouth to fidget with as she took a beat to think. After compiling a few books in her mind Ellie opened her mouth to speak but god was it hard. Your intent sucking had her in a trance.
“I think you-you’d probably- like…” Ellie wanted to keep talking, she really did, but your plump lips engulfing the red little ball was extremely distracting. She watched as your spit pooled at the upturned corners of your mouth and coated the hard candy. Every thought she had left her except what her lips would look like wrapped around something else. You took note as her pupils slowly dilated at the simple action and decided to have some fun with the awkward girl who you’d obviously left in a trance.
“Did you want a taste?” Ellie took some hard blinks in disbelief and some reproach, not realizing how conspicuous her stares must have been.
“Uh- like of your…” She pointed and you hummed in confirmation, holding the thin white stick at its base, hovering the candy just inches from her mouth. 
“Come onnn, I don’t bite… not unless you want me to.” Ellie’s quick and hot breaths of anticipation tickled the little hairs on your knuckles and you knew exactly what you were doing to her. Eventually she dove into your sweet offer. First with a flat tongue, then her whole mouth closing in on it. The crimson disappeared into her cavity and you twisted at the stick connected, sending an odd sensation across Ellie’s tongue. You quickly snatched it back out and plumpted it back in between your own red stained lips, leaving the girl a flustered mess.
“So what about that book?” you inquired, voice laced with a preformative innocence. 
She shook her head to focus, “Uh- right, how about The Bell Jar? Sylvia Plath?”
“That’s actually perfect. It’s been on my list for months now. Which shelf?”
“If you want… I uh, actually have a copy that you can borrow for free.”
“Actually yeah, I’d love that. Thank you.” You gave Ellie a warm smile that sent millions of butterflies through the pits of her stomach, and honestly yours too. She then disappeared to the back with a flash of her green eyes before returning holding a small book bursting with colored tabs.
“Here- I like to annotate,” she chuckled bashfully, “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Even better.” Ellie blushed at every word you spoke, sending a nervous hand back to scratch at her neck. “Well, thank you for this. I do have to get home but um- I promise to return it as soon as I’m done.” You shook your clasped hands at her like a praise and departed leaving nothing but a trace of your luscious perfume.
Ellie remained awestruck, replaying that whole scenario back again and saving it for later. Selfishly she wished for you to finish the book in just one night. She couldn't help but miss your pretty face already. And after being the only thing on her mind for the rest of the night, she wasn’t sure how long she could wait to see you again. 
✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  
That evening after Ellie’s shift she retreated to her bedroom with plans to remove you from her thoughts. Controller in hand, she maneuvered through some first person shooter game but lost every round due to her lack of focus. This was frustrating and she went to light some incense hoping to clear her head with a different approach. The brown, bergamot scented stick caught fire before cherrying at the end leaving a trail of smoke behind. Ellie followed it with her eye’s, gaze passing by her window and quickly retreating back as she spotted something out of the ordinary.
The neighbor's familiar window positioned right across from her own was usually shrouded in curtains, hiding the empty bedroom. But today she could see right in, and even better, there was someone just behind the glass. She inched in closer to get a better look and watched as the girl lay on her bed, ass up, feet kicking in the air. Ellie assumed she was talking on the phone from observing her bouts of giggles, but it was hard to tell. Even harder to decipher was who this mystery woman was. Every little mannerism felt oddly familiar and it was driving Ellie crazy. Could you just get off the phone already and turn around?
Yes, you. Who eventually wrapped up the call with your best friend where you had spent 30 minutes gushing about the 5 minute interaction you had with Elllie. “I just have to have her!” you raved through the telephone line, “in fact, I neeeddd her!!” 
Night had completely fallen at this point and as so you rolled out of your lying position and peeled off your shirt to change into pjs. You did it right in front of the window too, unknowingly giving Ellie a show. 
Next door, the girl's jaw was slack and bottom lip red from her harsh bite. Ellie stared lustfully at your soft seeming skin and gorgeous curves. After getting a better glimpse of your face she knew exactly who you were. And once your top started coming off there was no chance she was looking away now. That is… until she got caught.
As soon as you saw a flash of freckles across the way you dashed to the window almost getting a rug burn from the maneuver. With tits out, (well in a sheer lace bra, so practically out) you slide open the white trimmed aperture and give Ellie the most eager wave, shouting her name along with it. The girl could barely pull herself together as she hesitantly opened up her own window. Was Ellie about to get exiled for being a perv or were you feeling forgiving tonight?
“Ellie?! What the fuck?? Didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon!!” You shouted with excitement like a child on Christmas.
“Hi-” she halted her greeting, “wait, I don’t even know your name.”
“Oh, it’s ____”
“S’pretty name… I’m glad to see you again.” 
“Oh I bet you are. Saw you watching me change Els.” Really you didn’t mind, but something about teasing her got you off.
“Fuck- no, no. I- I wasn’t trying to, just was getting a better look to see if it was actually you. Please don’t be mad, I really am sorry!” You had left her a stuttering mess.
“No need to say sorry,” with a bat of your eyelashes you eased her worries, “you liked what you saw… right?” 
The girl squirmed, “Uhh…”
“It’s okay, you can say yes Ellie.” And she quickly did, making the cockiest smirk grow on your face. But, you weren’t an easy girl and you planned to tantalize Ellie with subtle passes until the both of you could hardly resist. So you quickly retreated, wishing Ellie a good night before sealing the window and swiping the curtains shut. 
The girl was left a hot mess after it all but trust and believe she had a good night. One with her hands between her thighs and your newly learned name falling from her lips.
✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  
The next morning you catch the emerald-eyed girl outside mowing her lawn and take this as the perfect opportunity to play some more mind games.
Slipping into the skimpiest bikini you could find, you scampered into the front yard “to tan”. The green lawn tickled the bottoms of your bare feet before you laid out a red and white striped towel to lounge on. Stomach down, facing towards Ellie, the sun beamed on the expanse of your back. Heart shaped sunglasses hugged your face and shielded your eyes as you admired the pretty girl.
She was dressed in some long cut-off jorts and a black wifebeater tank. A newly lit cigarette hung from her mouth carelessly. You loved the way her pec would flex with each push and pull of the mower. Lines of sweat racing down her arms and neck, illuminating every small vein. And god, when she tilted her head up to exhale a puff of smoke, it drove you wild. 
Your presence had not gone unnoticed though and neither had your cherry printed swim bottoms that were riding up your cheeks. Ellie continued mowing the lawn but was essentially butchering it, too busy staring at you out of her peripherals. She continued passing over the same barren spots of grass over and over, trying to get a better look of the angel laying just on the other side of the fence.
She’d pause mid push every time you’d reposition yourself just so she could see the little recoil of fat that was your plush thighs and heart shaped ass. Her cigarette had yet to leave her mouth after the first few exhales and your prompt arrival. A long build up of ash was begging to slip off the end and at this point she was just mowing little nubs. The yard was a patchy mess and so was she. This mess escalated as soon as she saw you marching to the edge of the fence straight towards her.
Approaching Ellie you planted your elbows on two white posts that stopped at your torso. You shouted out to the sweaty girl, waving her in your direction and she immediately scurried over like an obedient puppy.
“Whatcha smoking?” you questioned, causing Ellie to remember the all-ash cigarette, now between her fingers, being rid of its debris.
“Shit, I’m sorry- do you not like the smoke? I can stop, seriously.” She put out the remaining butt frantically in attempts at atonement.
“Lighten up Els, I don’t care if you smoke. I was just gonna ask to bum one off of you, but I only smoke Marlboros. That menthol shit gives me a headache.” She softened in relief, already pulling out a fresh one just for you.
“That’s crazy, I’m the same exact way. Here, it’s all yours” Ellie attempts to put the cigarette in your hand but you part your lips instead, requesting a different placement. She happily fulfills your request and follows with a silver, square shaped lighter. The flame catches at the end as you take a big inhale, blowing it to the side.
“Thanks, you have no idea how much I needed that. I’ve been cold turkey over here at Grams. Couldn’t even sneak a smoke from her either, she swears by Newports. Truly disgusting if you ask me.” You rolled your eyes, rambling on about your stay and Ellie just listened. She tried piecing together your story from the little tidbits you mentioned but still struggled to understand how you ended up here.
“So you’re just staying with your grandparents for the summer?”
“Yeah pretty much.” you answered nonchalantly.
“How come though? I’ve never seen you here until now. Trust me, I would’ve noticed a pretty girl like you.” she blushed.
“Oh yeah? You think I’m pretty?” you taunted, completely ignoring the question at hand. You weren’t sure how ready you were to spill those beans yet. Ellie gave off such an awkward loser vibe that left you questioning how much of you the girl could really handle. I mean, it seemed like you were already too much for your own parents and beginning to piss off the elders too. And speak of the devil, they arrived home just in time to steal you from Ellie’s company. 
“Babygirl, what are you doing bothering the neighbors?” your grandma called out, making you turn all hot and embarrassed in front of Ellie. Up until now you had managed to keep up the perfect cool girl vibe. The thought that Ellie might not be enjoying this as much as you perceived had never even crossed your mind. But now that it had, your confidence was knocked down a notch. 
“Grams-” You turned to excuse her politely but were cut off before you even got the chance.
“Is that a cigarette young lady?” 
“Umm.. yes…” you hesitated before swiftly putting it out on one of the wooden posts.
“Now where did you get a thing like that?” she prodded, arms crossed. Your eyes glanced over to Ellie but you decided to lie, knowing how your grandparents would react. You’d rather get into trouble than risk losing access to your new favorite girl.
“I swear it was just rolling around in one of the dresser drawers upstairs. I shouldn’t have taken it, but I did and I’m really really sorry. Please can we not mention this?” 
The old woman took a beat to consider your request, “Fine. But hand it over, I need a smoke, the ladies over at bingo this morning were driving me absolutely crazy.” You passed over the cigarette and thanked her and the heavens for sparing you. If your parents found out about any more wrong doings, you knew you’d be done for good, and deep down you believed that Grams had recognized the same threat.
Just over the fence, Ellie had witnessed the whole thing and was left even more intrigued. All this over a cigarette? Mention what to who? But just as she was exiled out of the conversation, Ellie was quickly brought back in.
“So hun, you seem pretty handy if I’m not mistaken.”
“Uh, yes ma’am I guess I am.” Ellie fidgeted, not sure where this conversation was going. Hoping not to get scorned by the wrath you had brought on from the whole cigarette debacle. 
“Well, we’ve got a couple of loose fence posts around the perimeter. I’ve been pleading with my husband to get it done but the old fart can hardly handle walking the block, let alone hard manual labor. You think you could help us out? I’ll give ya 50 bucks for it.” Ellie looked at your grandma, then you, and back to Grams again. 
“Sure, but I don’t need your money. I’ll happily do it free of charge.”
“Well mighty me, thank you very much!” your grandma elated, nudging at you to give thanks as well. You smiled at the girl and then mouthed a little sorry, feeling bad for wrapping her up in all of this. She waved you off, not thinking twice about her choice to help out. Anything to get closer to you, right?
 ✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  
That evening you stood in the kitchen, occasionally grabbing out a bowl or passing over an ingredient as your grandma fixed dinner. You sipped from a tall, clear glass of lemonade and looked through the window hoping to catch a glimpse of Ellie in action. 
Noticing your staring, Grams spoke up, “Why don’t you go bring the girl some lemonade to cool off, yeah? In fact, go on ahead and invite her to dinner since she refuses to be paid. Got to say thank you somehow.” Your heart skipped a beat imagining the beautiful girl sat at the dining table.
It was almost scary, every interaction you’d had so far was just casual flirts in passing. This would be the real deal and on top of it, your grandparents would be right there with you. Very, very scary. But there was no arguing this one, so out you went with an endearing proposal and a freshly poured glass of lemonade, all for Ellie.
“Here, I got this for you. It’s homemade.” You ushered the cup forwards to sweaty Ellie and she gratefully accepted with a thank you. You then awkwardly popped the question.
“Sooo… my grandparents want me to invite you over for dinner. As a thank you.” Ellie looked up from her work again trying to read your tone.
“Do you want me over for dinner?”
“Yeah, yeah of course I do. It’s just, you know how it is with family.” You kicked at some dirt that was loosened by the yard work, voiding Ellie’s gaze. It’s not like you didn’t want to see her but how could you trust your grandparents to keep up the mystery. Flirting felt so easy when all the vulnerable parts of yourself had yet to surface.
“I don’t have to come if you don’t want me to. I’d hate to cause any problems.” You quickly backpedaled, afraid she might take your words the wrong way. 
“No, no, not at all. Please. Come. I want you there.”
“Okay, then I will be. Let me finish up out here, take a quick shower, and I’ll be over.” 
✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  
Ellie had taken 30 minutes to come back, making it just in time. 20 of those minutes were spent just rummaging through clothes and messing with her hair, too nervous to think about punctuality. She wanted to look good for you, and even more she wanted to impress your family. 
At Ellie’s arrival you opened the door dressed in the shortest little sundress. The pale yellow complimented your skin just perfectly and Ellie wanted to tell you so bad but nerves got the best of her. All she could do was smile and turn 5 different shades of red, matching the rust colored Dickie’s and loose button up shirt that adorned her figure.
“Well, well, well… don’t you clean up nice?” You poked at Ellie’s right arm and she humored you with a shy laugh before putting her head down to shield from embarrassment. Ellie had always been somewhat of a loser but never had she ever met a girl that could leave her this much of a mess with just a few words. 
You then led her into the dining room, both of you taking a seat across from Gram and Gramps at the other end of the table. 
“We’re so happy we could have you over for supper Ellie. I know we don’t mingle much but your father and you have always been such good neighbors.” Your grandpa gushed as Grams nodded along but there was a slight lull before Ellie actually responded. Maybe the mention of her dad? You weren’t sure.
“Well, thank you for having me. It’s always nice to have some company around here.” There was something regretful in her eyes as she said it but the conversation quickly progressed past the moment, leaving you curious for the rest of the night. 
“So how’s school been going for you?” the pair asked.
“It’s been really good. Going into my second year actually.” Ellie answered, putting it simply as she knew this was all formalities and small talk. Even you were beginning to get a little bored with the dry conversation. So you decided to spice things up for the both of you, sliding off your strappy sandals to see how far you could take a game of footsies. 
“Oh wow! ____ is too! What’s your major?” Gramps continued. Your bare foot slid over to Ellie’s beat up sneakers waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. 
“I’m an en-” Her voice cut out as you creeped up the edge of her pants, rubbing on her exposed ankle. She coughed trying to recover, “I’m an engineering major.” You had to bite the inside of your cheek to not let out an audible laugh.
“How wonderful!” Grams enthused, blissfully unaware. Having too much fun, you then slid your hand a chair over to drag down Ellie’s thigh and felt as she tensed up.
The conversation continued at a steady pace and you removed your hand, not wanting to take things too far. Unexpectedly Ellie grabbed it, moving your limb back to its place and keeping her own hand rested on top. A big move considering just minutes ago she couldn’t even muster up the courage to compliment your dress.
You took this as permission to proceed and a simple resting hand turned to a grabby one, gripping at her inner thigh. Teasing the girl to incomparable lengths. She eventually followed in suit, slipping a few fingers under the hem of your dress just slightly before shying away at the dinner's conclusion. And even with such little touch, you were still absolutely soaking.
If only your grandparents knew what was going on under the table.
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✄ - - - -   part 2   - - - -   masterlist   - - - -   ♡
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taglist...
@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy
(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)
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