Steve grabs the bag before Eddie can. “No, I’ve got it.”
Eddie glances at the transparency of the plastic bag: the outline of his battle vest pokes through it, neatly folded.
He sidesteps the rest of the group as they troop out of the RV. Steve’s still standing his ground by the driver’s seat.
“Uh, Steve, I can see what’s in there. That’s mine.”
“Yeah, but—” Steve huffs, still holding the bag tightly, and he almost seems… embarrassed. “Like, just. Don’t look at it right now, I’ve got it. I’m gonna dry clean it. Later, I mean.”
Eddie laughs. But Steve remains deadly serious.
“Uh, that’s nice and all, but I don’t think dry cleaning gets out… um, blood and…” Eddie pokes his head out the RV door, to where the kids are hauling weapons and tanks of lighter fluid with Robin and Nancy—a sight he steadfastly tries to ignore before he panics ad nauseam—and asks, “What’s your word for, uh, Upside Down related, uh, you know—”
“Slime?” Lucas offers.
“Sludge,” Erica corrects.
“Goop,” Max says decisively.
“Shit,” Dustin says.
Eddie nods. “Helpful, thanks.”
He turns back. He’d intended for all that to get Steve to crack a smile at least, but if anything, he looks worse; the expression on his face has shifted into evident guilt.
“Steve,” Eddie says, caught between being amused and… honestly, touched. “Relax. It’s fine, man.”
Steve keeps frowning. “But it was—”
“—not important.”
Steve huffs again, like he’s saying don’t lie.
Eddie changes tack. He hasn’t missed the fact that Steve’s change of clothes from The War Zone means that, sure, less skin’s on show, which is probably better for Eddie’s heart but, more importantly, his bandages are ‘conveniently’ concealed—which is decidedly less good for Eddie’s heart, so maybe they both cancel each other out.
If ever there was the time for sincerity…
“Maybe I care less about the damn vest, and more about the person wearing it.”
The pinch in Steve’s brow lessens. “Oh,” he says, soft, and then a little of his usual bravado comes back when he asks, “you sure?”
Eddie waggles a hand back and forth. “Kinda. It’s borderline.”
Steve chuckles. He puts the bag down on his seat, very carefully, as if it’s breakable, and Eddie’s heart does a little skip.
“Well. I still feel bad,” Steve insists. His tone’s light, but he fixes Eddie with a pointed look, don’t test me on this, Munson, ‘cause my stubbornness will win.
“Okay,” Eddie concedes, hands up in surrender. “Tell you what, Steve. What if I wore something of yours, to make it even?”
Steve wrinkles his nose, but he’s smiling. “What, and deliberately mess it up?”
Eddie nods gravely. “Like, it’s not quite Upside Down conditions, but whenever I cook, it gets pretty close.”
Steve’s smile grows. He makes a show of turning around in search of something.
“Huh, I must’ve forgot to pack my wardrobe.”
Eddie clicks his tongue in theatrical disapproval. “Yeah, that’s a pretty big oversight, dude, should’ve thought it through.”
“Guess it’ll have to wait for next time.”
And yeah, they’re joking, but still. Eddie doesn’t want to tempt fate.
“Next time? Nah, I’m praying all this shit is a one time thing.”
“No, I meant—” Steve hesitates, like he’s inadvertently stepped out of the joke, and he doesn’t know where to go from here. “Like. Whenever you come round.”
“Is that an invitation?” Eddie says; he hopes the quip is enough to cover his surprise, the long-buried thought—ridiculously high school, but true in spite of it: no-one’s ever invited me to…
Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Oh, sorry, did you want it hand-written? The red carpet treatment?”
“Well, if you’re offering…”
“I’ll go get my quill,” Steve deadpans.
Eddie laughs. Says, only partly kidding, “It’s just, I’ll need some time to think it over.”
“The… invitation?”
“What item of clothing I’m taking, duh.”
“Right, yeah,” Steve scoffs, “major decision.”
“It is! You have whole ensembles, man.”
“Ensembles,” Steve echoes, but it’s got more of a French accent to it; Eddie suspects it’s a by-product of Steve helping Robin study, ‘cause she seems to be the only one who’s a polyglot in their contingent. “Get out of town, Munson.”
“Oh, like you don’t know. I swear, in winter, there’d be actual bets placed on what sweater you were gonna wear each day.”
“Uh-huh.”
Eddie hams it up, “Didn’t you wonder why so many girls were waiting to see you drive into school?”
“You’re an idiot,” Steve says, and he waves Eddie aside, about to jump out of the RV. “Lemme know when you’ve made your selection.”
Eddie knows he should leave it there. They’ve had their laughs, and it’s made to be forgotten about in the face of much more important things.
But that’s always been his problem, really. He can’t bite his tongue in time. He can’t help—
“The red one?”
Steve turns around, one foot off the step. “What?”
“The, uh…” Eddie clears his throat. It’s either say nothing or go all in. Fuck it, the shire’s burning. “I’ve decided what to—um. The red sweater?” Steve just keeps looking at him, so he adds, tentatively, “The one you’d wear near winter break?”
Steve raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know the one you mean.” He falters on the verge of speech, his lips twitching into a surprised little smile. He drawls, “You sure you weren’t placing those bets yourself, Munson?”, but it doesn’t sound mean, and his ears suddenly look a little pink, and maybe, maybe—
“No comment,” Eddie says, aiming for comically flat, but Steve’s smile is contagious.
“Okay, it’s a deal.” Steve steps outside—throws over his shoulder, “It’s yours,” oddly sincere; and Eddie wonders if they’ve really been talking about clothes at all.
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What would bnd be like as fwb?? 🤔
oh my fucking god you are CRAZY but i think about fwb bnd EVERY SINGLE DAY, at least once, at least one member but EVERYDAY. so watch me rant about it below 😭
pairing: bnd legal line x reader.
warnings: +18, smut.
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sungho; i don't see him being the typical fwb tbh, idek how you got him like that but if he is, i see him being this type of loner that no one would ever think is being someone's fwb, he's the type to give married vibes so it's not something usual to see him being a fwb. he would be loyal asf, you guys are just fucking but he ain't even looking to anyone else cause he's just that respectful. he would be the type to say a simple "hi" to you when you meet in public with a soft smile, you automatically receiving a text after he went out fo your sight saying "you look so beautiful today, as always". but he wouldn't be confusing tho, you guys would have things clear which is good to avoid any hard feelings.
riwoo; everyone, and i mean EVERYONE, will know you guys have something going on, the only reason they wouldn't specifically go for fwb is because they think sanghyeok has never seen a pussy before. he looks like a lost puppy behind you all the time so they know that he either likes you or you are leading him on. funny how he fucks the shit out of you while he lets out little whines "you feel so good, so warm" he would have a thing for fucking from behind, your ass pressing against his pelvis and you just know he's gonna loose it when his hands hold your boobs and his lips just keep kissing your ear and softly moaning.
jaehyun; contrary to sanghyeok, no one knows y'all have a thing, not because he's good at hiding it but because he's just always joking around and flirting with everyone and everything. i see you getting into an argument with him because of this too, it gets to a point where you don't feel comfortable knowing he's fucking and kissing others as well, he would just excuse himself by saying you guys are not dating so there's no exclusivity involved. was he a bitch? yes, were you going to leave him because of that? no. you loved every moment you spent together and he was so loving when he wanted to that even if it crossed your mind leaving a thousand times, a thousand and one times you'll stay.
taesan; dongmin is not a very clingy person, not even during an stablished relationship, let alone when he's just fucking you sometimes. the lack of response, of affection, of sympathy would be driving you nuts, but when you finally meet in person he's such a sweetheart that you just forget you were mad at him and let him do whatever he wants to do with you. he is VERY misleading, he would say a few lies to keep you close, making promises he doesn't keep but he still has you wrapped around his finger. he would be a little bit rough during sex but even if he's a bitch, he would make you feel good and take care of you afterwards. one of the main reasons of your confusion was that he acted like your boyfriend in private, being jealous over stuff and telling you you're his, only to ignore you in person and don't even read your messages.
leehan; the most misleading one by far. he would act like your boyfriend fr, say cute things to you, wink at you if he ever sees you in public, takes pictures with you, asks you out for dinner at his place without actually fucking you afterwards. all this for him to break your heart when you see him flirting with another girl at the library, getting close to him to ask what's going on and only earning a bad look before he held the other girl's hand and got away from there. he would drop by your place that night and tell you how much he cares about you and how sorry he is, kissing your tears away and making love to you in such a sweet way that you forgot everything he did before. he would stay with you overnight and you would wake up in his arms, only to see him back to normal, barely looking at you before he picked up his things and left you alone. at least he doesn't run away in your sleep and kisses you goodnight.
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Pls could you write daryl dixon x fem!reader at the kingdom? carol and ezekiel took in a worn out and struggling woman and have been helping her get back on her feet. daryl comes along and teaches her to hunt and maybe r lost some memory but got a bit back when she shot her first animal w daryl maybe she’s actually a vvv good hunter
crack shot — daryl dixon 🩰
in which you find the kingdom, and an archer who's willing to train you.
note: love this, going to make a lil drabble of this.
You'd been alone for a long time. You'd survived with your stealth and trusty knives, but it was getting harder. Your backpack of supplies were low, you hadn't found a proper place to settle down, and you'd recently injured yourself trying to hide from a horde of walkers.
Until you'd been found passed out from blood loss sat on a branch in a tree.
A man, who spoke as if he'd been pulled from a fantasy book, and a woman, who seemed the exact opposite of him. And yet they worked together well enough to get you back to wherever it is they call home.
The Kingdom.
That was almost a month ago. You'd spent a long while recovering, getting to know the Kingdom and it's people, and helping out with your very minimal mobility. Turns out your injury had been worse than you or anyone had thought.
When Carol, the woman who found you, had sat at your bedside to question you, you appeared to have lost any knowledge of what's happened. Memories muddle into one, not being clear enough to decipher.
You'd forgotten a lot of your life before this, but you assumed that was because the world had changed so drastically. You remembered some long-term things, like family members you had, what was happening in the world at this point in time, and where you were born, but everything else had fallen short.
It was time to start building you back up.
Carol would visit you a lot, bringing you things to eat, taking you around on walks to show you how things are going, and today she had other ideas in mind.
"So," Carol sighed, sitting next to your bed once again, "I think you've recovered enough to start doing something. I've asked a friend to train you in dealing with walkers. Just to make sure you can defend yourself still."
You nodded, finishing lacing up your boots and getting out of bed. "Who? Jerry? Because I love Jerry."
Carol laughed. "No, an old friend of mine offered to help actually. He's waiting outside."
Carol had taken you outside, and stood in front of the both of you, was God himself. Everything you'd liked in a man, he was here. But you pushed those thoughts to the back of your brain, focusing on learning.
"This is Daryl," Carol introduced him, and he held the strap of his crossbow on his shoulder, giving you a quick look up and down, and a nod. "He's going to take you hunting today."
The two of you had left the Kingdom, quietly walking towards the woods.
"Carol said you forgot everythin'," he mumbled, his voice gruff but it pushed a few buttons for you, "that sucks."
"Yeah. It's a strange feeling. I don't really remember much except the family I had, and how the world turned out like this." You explained. "So you're a hunter?"
He nodded. "I'm good at it. Been doin' it all my life."
"Well I hope I catch a good deer or something for Carol and Ezekiel."
It had been a long, slow day.
You'd spent a long time just walking through the woods silently, trying not to scare any wildlife away. With the occasional "come 'ere" from Daryl.
But you'd finally found a deer; stood gracefully between two trees, sniffing at the ground. Daryl raised his crossbow, explaining how to use it.
"Wait," you exclaimed in a whisper, "can I do it?"
Daryl handed you his crossbow, and before he'd opened his mouth about how to hold it, you'd fired the arrow and it landed perfectly into the deer, killing it in the most humane way.
He was in shock, analyzing your features for any signs of shock.
"You done this before?" He asked, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder again before following you towards the deer.
"Maybe? I don't know. It just felt natural to me." You answered, and he was still reeling from how impressed he was.
"Have to take you huntin' with me all the time now, crack shot."
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I wasn't expecting you 5/5
Chapter Summary - Belonging
The first date…
Notes
Here we go, the last chapter.
Last chapter, but not the end of the story. I still have a few sweet oneshots in for our two lovebirds. After all, they're only at the beginning of their story.
On Ao3
Rating G - 1978 words
Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5
Crowley left the building where his apartment was and prepared to cross the street to Aziraphale's.
"So? Got a date?"
Crowley turned to Rosie, who had just stopped beside him, and replied in a challenging tone, "What if I do?"
She chuckled and replied, "There's no what if, the whole street knows."
"Then why are you asking?"
"Nervous?"
If there was one thing Crowley had realized quickly, it was that Rosie was one of the sharpest people on the street, and she had figured him out, which was why he didn't try to deny it.
Because he really was nervous.
Taking his silence as an acknowledgement, Rosie said gently, "There's nothing wrong with being nervous, it means you're aware that what's coming up is important. But don't let nervousness keep you from enjoying your date. And I'm going to give you some advice you didn't ask for. Just be yourself."
"What if he doesn't like who I am?"
Rosie shook her head and replied, "He wouldn't have invited you if he didn't. Aziraphale isn't someone who has struck me for his spontaneity when it comes to relationships, so I don't think you have anything to worry about. Come on, don't keep him waiting."
She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him toward the bookshop. Crowley couldn't help but laugh and walked on as she gave him a final "Good luck!" before walking off on her own.
But despite his new friend's pep talk, it didn't stop Crowley's heart from racing as he reached the door of the bookshop.
He ran a hand through his hair, brushed some invisible dust from the lapel of his jacket, and, after taking a deep breath, decided to knock lightly on the door.
He had only a few seconds to wait before he saw Aziraphale's silhouette through the glass door, which opened shortly thereafter.
He found himself standing in front of a bookseller with even more gloriously disheveled hair than the last time he'd seen him, and an even brighter smile on his face as he said softly, "Good evening, Crowley."
The barista's gaze was caught by the movement of Aziraphale's Adam's apple as he appeared to swallow several times. It made Crowley realize that he wasn't the only one who was nervous, which reassured him and helped him relax a bit.
He returned the other man's smile and greeted him softly, "Good evening, Aziraphale," before handing him a bottle of wine and adding, "Not knowing what we were going to eat, I brought a wine to go with it, and I hear your wine cellar is remarkably well-stocked, so I hope you won't be disappointed."
Aziraphale took the bottle, thinking that in his current state of mind, the wine could have been cheap and he wouldn't have noticed.
However, he looked at the label and replied, "A very good wine, a very good vintage, and I don't happen to have any in my reserve. Thank you."
He set the bottle down long enough to take the other man's jacket and hang it on the coat rack, then motioned for Crowley to follow him to the back of the shop where the kitchen was.
Crowley looked around discreetly, intrigued by the fact that Aziraphale's "apartment" was in the shop itself. He couldn't help his curiosity and inquired, "So this is where you live?"
Aziraphale turned to him before replying, "Sort of, downstairs is the kitchen and this sort of dining room," then pointing to the narrow staircase that wound up, he added, "And upstairs is the bedroom and bathroom, as well as another storage room."
As he followed Aziraphale into the kitchen, Crowley noticed the beautifully set table, lit by a candle, and this further reinforced his belief that Aziraphale saw their date tonight in the same light as he did.
Then, suddenly, he forgot everything as an absolutely delicious smell reached his nostrils.
"Holy moly, Aziraphale, that smells amazing!"
Aziraphale chuckled softly and replied with a half-smile on his lips, "Well, let's hope the taste is as good as the smell. A glass of wine while we wait for it to finish cooking?"
Crowley nodded as he leaned against the kitchen counter to watch Aziraphale open the bottle. He was fascinated by the bookseller's movements and the elegance with which he performed such a trivial task.
Then he broke the silence and replied, "Well, if the gossip on the street is true, I don't seem to have anything to worry about. I hear you cook even better than the chef at Justine's restaurant. Her words."
Aziraphale, cheeks slightly flushed at the compliment, poured the wine into two stemmed glasses and handed one to Crowley, saying, "In this case, I'm interested in your opinion, not the street - well, you know what I mean."
Crowley nodded and stepped closer, placing a hand on the bookseller's arm before saying, "I know, and you don't have to impress me. As one of the gossip voices on Whickber Street advised me, just be yourself. That's enough to impress me."
Aziraphale replied sheepishly, "Sorry, I'm a little rusty when it comes to relationships and dating and all that, I have no idea about...uh...standards or codes or anything..."
Crowley replied with a half-smile on his lips, "That makes two of us. As far as I'm concerned, there's no need for codes or rules other than the ones we set for ourselves. For me, the only rule is that we talk."
He realized he was entering uncharted territory, but he continued: "I don't want to guess what you're thinking or talk off the top of my head. I want us to be honest and sincere in this... relationship."
After a few moments of thought, Aziraphale replied quietly, "I quite agree. I've already told you that my family, if you can call it that, was nothing like a family. The stories from the past you told me, what you shared with your parents, I didn't know any of that before I came here to live with my grandfather. I want us to be open with each other."
Then he suddenly stopped and gasped as if he had just realized something and said in one breath, "Did you just say relationship?"
Crowley chuckled softly, "You noticed? Do you have an objection? "
Aziraphale shook his head so vigorously that Crowley continued to laugh, then became serious again as Aziraphale asked, "Don't you think this is going too fast?"
Crowley took a moment to think and replied gently, "We're moving fast, no doubt, but too fast? I don't know, it feels like it's going at our pace. In a natural way."
Aziraphale nodded, "I agree," then raised his glass in Crowley's direction and said softly, a joyous sparkle in his eyes, "To us and this new... relationship. "
Crowley looked at him intensely and clinked his glass against Aziraphale's as he said in a low voice, "To us."
Then, no longer able to resist, he leaned forward and planted a light kiss on Aziraphale's lips before placing his hands on his shoulders and turning the bookseller around, pushing him toward the baking trays, "Mr. Bookseller, you promised me dinner, so don't make me languish, because this smell is an absolute torture."
Aziraphale chuckled slightly, glad Crowley didn't see him blush slightly.
The bookseller inwardly admonished himself for acting like a teenager on a first date, but at the same time he couldn't help but revel in the sensations he hadn't felt in so long that he'd forgotten.
"The gossips didn't lie, it was absolutely delicious, Aziraphale".
The little chat before dinner had cleared the air between them and the meal had flown by easily, the conversation had been very natural, and now they were sharing a cup of coffee on the bookshop sofa in the little nook next to Aziraphale's desk.
Although the sofa was quite wide, they sat quite close together, so close that Aziraphale could feel the warmth radiating from Crowley's body.
Although pleased by Crowley's compliment, Aziraphale found it hard to concentrate on the conversation, so strong was the urge to hold Crowley's hand, which was only inches from his own, to close the distance between them, to touch him, even just a little.
But at the same time he had a kind of restraint, not daring to try anything for fear of breaking the charm and ease with which the evening had unfolded since Crowley's arrival.
He looked down at his cup on the coffee table when suddenly Crowley's hand covering his made him jump slightly and turn his head toward him.
Crowley gave a crooked little smile and said quietly, "I hope I'm not presuming?"
Aziraphale shook his head.
"Not at all. Quite the contrary."
"Why don't you tell me what's on your mind, Aziraphale, I'm no fortune teller, but I can see that something is troubling you."
Aziraphale twisted his hand under Crowley's and their fingers intertwined as he took the time to get his thoughts in order before answering.
A few seconds later, he said softly, "I told you, I haven't done this in a long time. I'm sorry to be like this, and you may find it ridiculously straightforward, but... but I can't do this..."
Aziraphale paused, sweeping the air between them with his free hand, back and forth, then continued, "I can't do this if it's casual."
Fighting the urge to close his eyes, he forced himself to look into Crowley's.
An incredibly gentle expression had appeared on the other man's face as he replied softly, "It's also because I can't stand casual anymore that I wanted to settle down. And I don't know about you, but even more so after tonight, I feel that this... relationship has great potential. I don't want to spoil it."
Aziraphale stifled a small sigh of relief and nodded slowly as Crowley added, "And there's nothing ridiculous about being direct, as we said at the beginning of the evening, we just have to be honest with each other."
Aziraphale immediately replied gently, "I... I want to take my time. I don't want to waste this potential either."
"The important thing is that we agree on what we want or don't want. We have time, I'm not going anywhere and neither are you, as far as I know."
Then Crowley raised his hand and placed it on Aziraphale's cheek, bringing his face close to his and saying softly, "You can say stop whenever you want."
Aziraphale laughed lightly against his lips and replied, a mischievous gleam in his eye, "I don't intend to stop you, but if you don't kiss me right now, I will."
No sooner had he finished his sentence than Crowley closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to his.
At first it was a gentle touch. Just lips and breath meeting. A gentle kiss that lasted a few seconds until Crowley pulled away, but Aziraphale wouldn't let him, and taking the other man's face between his hands, it was he who pressed his lips against Crowley's.
The kiss had the same sweetness and went on and on, the two men only pulling away to catch their breath until one pulled the other to continue.
Both gently exploring this new bond at their own pace.
Later, when they parted for a longer time, they looked at each other in silence, without embarrassment, until Crowley's arms were around Aziraphale's waist, the bookseller's head resting on the barista's shoulder.
Crowley immediately closed his arms around the his lover, then, resting his chin on his hair, exhaled a contented sigh.
As he felt Aziraphale's breathing steady against his chest, his arms tightening around his waist, the warmth of his body against his own, the softness of his hair under his chin, Crowley felt, for the first time since he'd lost his parents, that he belonged.
_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here
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