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sunflower-lilac42 · 3 months

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✧ 𝟔𝟎𝟑 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 || luke hughes ♔

summary: exam season is the worst season ever for y/n and the only person who can calm her down is 603 miles away from her

warnings: finals, essays, stress, crying, long-distance

publish date: 02/10/24

notes: i think i'm entering a new luke obsession phase because that's all i wanted to write yesterday and today. oh right! based off of this request -> idea! there is a point of me saying 603 miles a million times in this, (it's like four times) it's literally the name of the fic... so if you're annoyed then oh well, don't read it (apologies for mean emma today, i'm tired). add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!

nhl masterlist | main masterlist

She expected this to happen, the pounding in her head, the 20 tabs open on her computer, the dozens of resource articles and research strewn about in her room, the five packets of review guides sitting in a stack on her desk, the half drank cup of coffee, and the tears springing in her eyes. The white noise coming from her earbuds was starting to bother her causing her to rip them out of her ears and throw them somewhere where she probably wouldn’t be able to find them again.

She could hear voices in the living room, just outside her closed bedroom door. They were laughing about something, what it was she had no idea. Her three roommates all had presentations tomorrow and that was it, no more studying, no more writing, they were done. She, however, still had three papers to write and two exams to take. She had regretted her decision to take this many classes this semester but she was preparing herself for her future.

She had gone to stand up, feeling dizzy immediately as her feet planted flat on the floor. She held a hand to the wall, bracing herself from toppling over. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the blurry sight of tears, dehydration, and lack of nutrition. She knew people would be worried about her if they were to see her like this, her hair matted and pulled into a bun as best as she could, and mascara dried on her face that highlighted the dark circles and bags under her eyes. She was wearing Luke’s sweatshirt, the Devils logo plastered over it in the center, mocking her, reminding her that her boyfriend was 603 miles away from her.

At the thought, she allowed herself to tear up more, letting tear after tear fall. There wasn’t much she could do, he was in the middle of a game right now. When she realized he had a game, she turned it on and watched with a soft smile whenever he would show up on the TV. Despite knowing the fact that he would not answer his phone, she called him, hoping to just hear his voice through his voicemail.

When his voice reached her ears, she could feel some of the tension release from her body. However, the feeling was short-lived as the beep from the end of his voicemail was heard. She didn’t leave a message, she just hung up and watched the remainder of the second period. When the horn blarred in the arena and through the tv speakers, she shut off the screen and returned to work, making her head hurt more.

She didn’t notice the multiple attempts Luke had made to call her, her phone having died 20 minutes prior when she was writing her essay. Her headphones laid atop of her earbuds, trying to create a total noise blocker from her apartment’s noises. She had been ripping off post-it notes after post-it notes, scrambling to write down as many ideas as her brain could process.

Meanwhile, Luke had been minorly, no majorly, freaking out. She would never call him if he was at a game, not even if it was super important. He could feel himself start to sweat again as he rushed to put his suit jacket on, wiggling his feet into his shoes. He had gone home by himself, not feeling the need to celebrate when his girl could be suffocating 603 miles away from him.

Ever since they’ve known each other, Luke has known about y/n’s tendencies to throw herself into her school work. He remembers the first time he saw her during exam season. It was the end of their freshman fall term, they had been dating for four months at the time. They had just gotten back from their games in Ohio, he was exhausted from the trip and their 6-1 loss following their win the previous day. All he had wanted to do was go over to her dorm and lay in bed with her.

✧༺✎༻∞

He knocked on the door, waiting for an answer but nothing came. He felt saddened and knocked again. He received the same answer, none. He turned around and slid down the wood door, hitting the ground with a thud. He put his hands on his head as he waited, kicking his bag to the side. It was only then he heard the footsteps come rushing down the hallway and looked up to see her. She had her backpack that looked as if it weighed 10 pounds, she was clutching five books in her arms and a coffee cup rested on top of them. She had been mumbling when she noticed him and her eyes lit up, “Hi!”

“Hi pretty girl, whatcha doing?”

“Studying.”

He looked at the way her eyes were hidden by the circles underneath them and frowned. He reached out to grab the books from her grasp and she gratefully accepted the offer, going straight to dig the keys out of her bag, “How were the games? Did you guys win?”

He felt heartbroken and confused, she always watched his games when they went away. She would always be the one to point out his goal or an assist that he got, sometimes she even pointed out if Dylan, Mackie, Ethan, or even Owen got a goal. He watched as she pushed the door open, removing her hand from her side to run it through her hair, “You didn’t watch?”

She turned to him, dropping her bag on the ground and reaching out for her books, “No, I was studying. Sorry, Lu.”

Studying? At that time? He did nothing but let her take the books, watching as she started to clean up her dorm. It was only then that he had noticed the state her dorm was in. There were empty boxes scattering the floor, paper plates and bowls on any surface possible, and some of her clothes were mixed in with her roommate’s, it was a mess, to say the least. He made no effort to say anything about it, though.

She cleaned as much as she could in a matter of five minutes, looking at him with a small smile on her face, “I’m sorry I didn’t watch. I was going to watch the highlights when I got back tonight.”

“Back from?”

“Library. I think I’m starting to become a regular for everyone who works there.”

The thought of her being a regular was somewhat concerned, “How often have you been going?”

His voice was a mixture of stern and worried, his eyes somewhat squinted in a glare. She looked as if she had committed a crime at the tone of his voice, “Every day… from the time class was over until they closed.”

His eyes widened, “Jesus y/n.”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to study. I need to do well.”

“I understand that but you can’t work yourself to the brink of death.” He grabbed the coffee out of her hand and emptied it into the sink, getting rid of the cup afterward.

She whined at the motion, watching him in horror as if he just hit a bird with his car. He walked back over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, “Tomorrow you are not going to touch a single book, I won’t even let you touch your computer.”

“But-”

“Nuh-uh, nope. No computer, no books, no papers, no anything school-related. We are going to stay in your bed and watch movies all day and eat properly.”

“I eat properly!” She exclaimed in offense.

He gave her a look that said all the different, “Sure. Now I can only hope you still have some of my clothes here somewhere because I do not want to talk to my dorm right now.”

She pointed in embarrassment to one of her draws, “In there.”

He kissed her forehead and grabbed the clothes before heading for the bathroom, “I’ll be back and I better not see you do any work when I get back.”

She nodded but as soon as he left she ran to her backpack and grabbed her computer. She rushed to finish the last two paragraphs of her essay before he got back but luck was not on her side as she was halfway through her last paragraph and the doorknob turned. She had been so focused on writing that she didn’t care that he entered, “Just let me finish my last paragraph.”

He sighed, dropping his clothes into her laundry basket. He walked back to her bed and looked at her, “Last paragraph?”

“Mhm.” She nodded and scooted over so Luke could sit next to her, “Fine. I don’t want you to lose your train of thought.”

She beamed up at him and kissed his cheek before returning to her work.

✧༺✎༻∞

Ever since then, he had been careful with how much he left her alone in exam season. He always called on road trips, always went to the library with her to make sure she didn’t overwork herself, always made sure she was eating properly and always made sure that she was okay. But now being 603 miles it was hard to do that for her.

Luke was packing a bag as fast as he could, looking at his laptop for the earliest flight out of there which wasn’t until early the next morning, leaving at 7 and not arriving until 9. Then he would have to wait to get a car and do a 30-minute drive to Ann Arbor. He groaned at the time and went to throw something, at that point he could drive there and be there before getting a plane but he was in no state to drive.

He continued to try and call her for 30 minutes, on the brink of giving up at that point. Her phone was still dead and she had yet to realize it. She had music playing through her earbuds attached to her computer, typing about something that she considered stupid and unnecessary. She only took breaks to take a sip of coffee or to groan and throw her head back in exhaustion and frustration.

Luke threw his phone on the bed, running his hands down his face, falling asleep not even five minutes later. Y/n was the same way, she closed her laptop as she finished her last sentence, finally allowing herself to take a break. She got up to go make a burrito in the kitchen, waving to her friends who were also still awake at the time.

She went to turn her phone on and that was when she realized the lack of battery it had. She shrugged it off and put it down on her nightstand before walking back out to eat and finish watching the movie with her roommates.

✧༺✎༻∞

She didn’t go to bed until almost three in the morning despite finishing the movie four hours ago. Once they finished, she looked at the piles of paper and study guides she still had to do and sighed. Deciding that her first class wasn’t until noon, she could easily get done with one or two study guides or an essay in three.

She curled up on her bed when she was done and wrapped the blankets around her tightly. When she woke up and went to look at her phone and saw a tweet from Amanda from an hour ago, “Luke is not at morning practice due to personal reasons. Should expect him back for Saturday’s game in Columbus.”

She immediately woke up at the fact, looking back at her other notifications. There must’ve been at least a dozen missed calls from Luke and 15 text messages. She could only think about the worst, if he had gotten hurt but just didn’t want to tell someone, if he had been so drunk that he couldn’t think straight, if he had a panic attack last night. Her thoughts raced but halted when there was a knock on the door.

She went out to the living room, still clad in her sweats from the previous night. Her friends must’ve either already left or were still sleeping. She walked to the door, peeking through the peephole and gasping. She all but ripped the door open, “Lukey?”

He smiled when he saw her, immediately feeling better. Her eyes were still the same from the first time he had experienced her like this and he knew there would probably be a coffee pot brewing in the next few minutes, but he was here now and that was a wave of relief, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my calls and I know you were studying last night so you probably wouldn’t have answered them anyway. But when I saw you called during the game I got worried because you never call. And I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that you weren’t overworking yourself but i can tell that you are.”

She frowned at his words but also felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him flying out just because he wanted to ensure she was okay. She stepped aside to let him in and then led him to her bedroom. It was cleaner than what he had witnessed in the past years.

“You can’t just fly out every time you think I’m overworking myself, Luke.”

“I know but I wasn’t thinking. I was worried, really worried.” He held her hand, playing with her fingers as a form of comfort, “How long were you up to last night?”

She hesitated before responding, “3…”

He only sighed and tugged her closer to the bed so they could lay down, “Luke I have class in two hours.”

“I know but just for a little bit, and then I’ll take you to class.”

“You still know you’re way around campus?”

“Did I ever know my way around campus?”

She shook her head and laughed, “No.”

He smiled at her laugh, “You do realize I’m only going to be allowing you to rest while I’m here right?”

“But I have one more essay to finish.”

He glared at her, “Fine, but after that, you are going to be right here, in my arms, and not thinking about school at all.”

“Deal.”He kissed her before allowing her to get up and get ready for class. They both walked on campus to her class with the same thought, grateful that Luke had come to see her. Even with being 603 miles away from each other, they would do anything to be there for one another.

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

#sunny lune writes #hockey #nhl #luke hughes #lh43 #luke hughes x reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months

Note

headcanon- steve secretly being insanely good at something, maybe chess or something similarly associated with intelligence. when everyone finds out they are surprised and doubtful leading steve to have the realization "oh. you guys genuinely think I'm stupid."

Steve loved seeing how things worked, he had since he was too young to actually figure things out by himself.

He got caught pulling apart his dad’s office calculator when he was nine, insisted he could put it back together, and did.

It took him a week, but he did it.

Then it was the house phone.

Then his desk lamp.

The toaster.

He always got them back together and working, but his parents weren’t very pleased if they caught him in the process.

Still, he loved the feeling of understanding how certain wires connecting meant something would light up or how one color wire would make something produce a number and another would produce power.

He continued doing it with random objects for years.

The concussions made it harder, his vision going blurry if he focused a little too long on a small part of the technology, his frustration making it even worse.

When Eddie found out, he gave him an old amp that wasn’t working anymore, said it probably would never work again but he could take a look inside.

Steve got it working in two days.

Wayne gave him their VHS player when it stopped rewinding, didn’t want to have to buy a new one even if they did have the money for it now. He had it fixed in four hours.

The oven in the new Munson home randomly stopped working, so of course Steve was called.

He came during Hellfire, ignoring the strange looks as he waved and made his way straight to kitchen.

He got to work, humming to himself as he made sure electricity was cut off from it, that there was no gas hookup anywhere, and pulled it from the wall.

The wiring inside was relatively straightforward, and he saw the problem almost immediately.

A loose wire connecting from the heat source to the controls. Easy fusing. Done.

He tested to make sure it was fixed, and ten minutes later, he was calling Wayne at work on the house phone to let him know it was fixed.

When he turned around, Dustin and Lucas were standing in the doorway, mouths open.

“You’ll catch flies like that. You know Eddie leaves the windows open all the time.”

“You fixed the oven?”

“Uh. Yeah?”

“By yourself? Like the inside of it?”

“Yeah?”

“How? That’s so many wires and stuff.”

“It’s not that hard.”

“That’s like, electrical engineering shit.”

Steve realized what was happening just as everyone else walked into the kitchen.

“Oh. You guys don’t think I’m smart enough.”

He felt like he hit a brick wall.

“What’s going on?” Eddie came to stand next to Steve, arm wrapping around his waist.

“We didn’t know Steve was smart.”

The words were unintentionally harsh, but Steve and Eddie flinched anyway.

“Steve’s incredibly smart. He fixes all kinds of things.”

“Eds, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. They know better than to make assumptions about someone based on grades in school or how they understand certain things.”

Steve shrunk into Eddie’s side, doing his best to hide his face while he held back tears.

“You can all apologize or you can leave.”

There was silence for a moment and Steve was almost convinced that they’d all left.

He turned his head to see everyone staring at him.

“We’re sorry, Steve. Really. Eddie’s right. We shouldn’t have assumed you weren’t super smart just because you didn’t do well in school or don’t understand us when we ramble.”

Will was always a good kid, maybe his favorite at the moment.

“‘S okay guys.”

Eddie’s fingers tightened on his waist for a moment.

“So do you fix all kinds of stuff or just appliances?”

“I like to take stuff apart and put it back together. Sometimes I just end up fixing something along the way.”

“So you could look at my walkie?” Max piped up. “It keeps going to static in the middle of me talking.”

“Sure. Probably just a disconnected wire between the speaker and the button.”

Max beamed back at him, not just happy he would try to fix it, but proud.

Everyone started asking if he could fix things they had, surprised when he agreed to it all.

They filtered back out to the dining room area where they played, except for Dustin.

“What’s up?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that you’re stupid or anything. I know you’re not stupid. I was just surprised. I shouldn’t have been; you’re always finding the crossed wires with us and fixing those.”

Steve pulled him into a hug.

“People aren’t nearly as easy as electronics, dude.”

“Yeah, but you make it look that way.”

Steve quickly became the group’s engineer, always fixing what was broken, whether it was a flashlight or a bad day. He was pretty good at putting things and people back together.

#steve harrington #the party #steddie #eddie munson #headcanon

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goldsbitch · 4 months

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Right?

summary: Y/N is a photographer for McLaren F1 team. Hard working, goal oriented professional who would never put her career in jeopardy for some stupid crush, right?

That is until a photoshoot gets out of hand and there is no way to go but forward.

warning: swear words, male x female, angst

part 2

______________________________________________________________

You're a professional. Right? Always been, proud of your hard work and strong will. If you want something, you go and get it.

It's by no chance that you're standing exactly here - in the McLaren F1 paddock, in the middle of buzzing neatly organized and timed chaos prior to the start of the race. "Read the grid, feel the paddock" was a line burned to your memory by your first boss, now the Media head of Redbull. You've learned what each and every one of the people do, what their job entails, because one day, one day you want to be more than a photographer for the team's social media.

You're a professional. Had a dream and went for it, no matter the sacrifice or long hours. Always on the road, detached from your peers. Because your heart beats for this.

You'd never do anything to compromise your job. Right?

The hardest part to ignore is his scent. You can evert your eyes when he walks to the room like he owns it - and one would say he actually does, he is the team's no. 1 driver for god sake. His voice can almost be blocked out by focusing on a conversation with a different person or headphones if the situation allows. But his scent seems specifically tailored to messing with your ability to focus, so much sothat you've considered wearing a mask and pretending to be a super freak about germs.

Ironically, scents are hard to recall. And you would know, you've tried several times on lonely nights in hotel rooms, with the goal to make you finish just a little bit faster. A moment you'd really love to forget is standing in a perfume shop trying to figure out what is that magical formula. Because it can't be due to the fact that he is wearing it. Right?

However hard it is for you on the inside, one would never know of your tiny little crush from the outside. Always keeping it casual, with every photoshoot staying professional and holding it together.

It was Lando who had the idea to do more of an intimate (his words, not yours) photoshoot than usually, to spice up the feed, as he bluntly said during a casual PR catch up. This was the reason why you were standing here. In the middle of the forest, alone with a big camera and one light for the subject in question, your biggest crush in history. You were sure he was having a great time putting you outside your comfort zone, the cheeky fuck he was. But then again, he probably really did not give a shit.

"I can't focus if you'll keep looking at me like that," Lando stated like a spoiled child.

"Come again?" you asked, geniuenly confused.

He jumped around few times, as if he was about to run a marathon. "Show a little enthusiam, why so bleh today?"

"You're right, my mind went somewhere else."

"Oh, am I boring you? Well, that's bad. We should be promoting my merch here, but even the person paid to be here can't seem to be bothered!" His tone changed. He raised his eyebrows, challenging you to up your game.

You're a professional. No doubt about that.

Focus, get your head back. Your energy boosted up again, here we go! "Ok, Norris, back to work!" You're well aware that a great photo comes from the subjects ability to connect with the photographer. "You're right, this isn't working. Let's get into the car."

You both left the random wood spot and returned to his sports car that brought you here. "Sit on the driver's seat" you instructed.

"Oh, as if there is a different way this would go down."

"Come on, let's drive around. And be fast," not sure if you were incouraging him or yourself.

"Like the sound of that. Buckle up, otherwise you'll have blurry photos."

And with that he reversed back on the main road.

After about 15 minutes of driving back and forth with a casual drift on the turns, getting pictures of him driving in his new jacket and shades, the adrenaline levels were pretty up in both of you.

"Parked it up here" you instructed again, having him stop on a hill with a view on a city lights in the background. "These are amazing!" you said after a brief look on the photos.

Lando was curious as ever. "Show me!"

"No, you'll see them on the right time. Do you trust me?"

He licked his lips. "Surprise me?"

"Lean back."

You really got into the zone, already super excited for the pictures. They had everything, interesting lighting, composition and Lando was doing an exceptional job with his smiles. However, you knew it could give more.

"This is great Lando, truly great job! But let's do more and push it further, you ok?"

"Just tell me what to do." He looked like he was really enjoying the attention, but you tried to block any of these thoughts out.

"One thing photographers recommend is for the model to try and look into the lens as if you want to seduce it, capture those looking at the picture...It's for making models less focused on the camera and being more attractive..."

Lando pulled out his best smirk yet. "Oh, I'm not attractive enough to be your model now?"

"Come on. You know what I mean."

"Nah, I don't," he lied. "Elaborate, I'm just a simple driver."

Now you were getting annoyed. "Just imagine the lens is someone you want to, em, who you would like to"

"-Fuck?"

"Yes."

"As you wish." And as you asked he did.

He probably did it without much of a thought, but you were perfectly aware of how he fixed his posture, opened his lips a bit, moved his and got this look on as if he wanted to eat you - in the best way possible. This got you in the zone, striking one photo after another, moving your camera and getting closer to get the details, completely forgetting you were both there to shoot his new merch.

Battery low. You would have cursed yourself in that moment. Only you hardly had a second to think about this. When you put your camera down, you realized the nonexistent proximity between you and Lando. You were sitting above him on the back seat with him staring up to you.

You froze for a moment, knowing there is no battery left in the bag.

"Well that is us done for today," you focused on the camera. How on Earth can you be so stupid.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." You suddenly realized you were way, way to close to Lando. The damn scent, again.

"Damn, I like these kinds of photoshoots."

"Uhm, yeah." You did not want to move, but it was becoming socially unacceptable for you to be sitting on him for this long.

"Have you done this with Oscar?"

It's hard for you not to laugh at that thought. Every photoshoot with Oscar was a nightmare with the atmoshephere being so dry that everyone with an inch of taste had to tell from the photos immediately.

"Not yet," you said trying to preserve the facade. " But if these work out and the team likes them, we might recreate this with him?"

As if that was even remotely possible. You should move now. Why isn't he moving?

"Shame, thought it was our thing," his voice was becoming more raspy with every sentence.

And with that - you lost it.

"You still have the look." How is this sentence coming out of your mouth?

"What look?" he said, moving even closer to you.

"The models look."

"Remind me which one."

"The "Fuck Me Look"...But I'm not taking photos anymore."

"Interesting."

"Why?" You stopped breathing a while ago.

"Because I think you have it too."

part 2

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris angst #mclaren

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babybluebex · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | after an incident with your bully, eddie takes matters into his own hands to help you feel better. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | eddie munson (stranger things, 2022) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 | bullying, brief violence, mentions of blood, angst & fluff, everyone in this is 18+ and if you aren't, you shouldn't be reading it! 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞| this story means a lot to me, because i wrote it how i want and not thinking about what would work bets to get the most notes. i wrote this during my brief little hiatus and it means a super lot to me, so enjoy!

You slammed open the door to the trailer, your vision blurry with tears. You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t want to believe it. Your shirt felt sticky as it molded itself to your chest, and you sniffled, trying to keep quiet. Knowing Eddie, he was asleep, and you were thankful. Maybe you could get the stain out without questioning.

You weren’t nearly that lucky. As you stripped the soiled shirt over your head, you stepped into the kitchen, and you saw Eddie sitting at the small, rickety table. He seemed preoccupied with a Dungeons and Dragons book, his eyes skimming the page as he nursed a bottle of beer, but stopped reading the moment he heard your sniffles. “Hey,” he said urgently, setting his book down. “Are you crying? What’s wrong?”

You said nothing. How could you possibly explain to him what had happened? Of course, on the surface, it seemed easy to explain: Heather, your tormentor, had it out for you and had splashed a drink on you. Heather had been teasing you and bullying you ever since you first came to Hawkins in middle school and now, a few months shy of graduation, it seemed she was upping the ante. You knew exactly why she was too, and it was the exact reason why you couldn’t tell Eddie: it was him.

Ever since you started dating Eddie, Heather and her cronies had become uncontrollable. There had been countless incidents in the past and you hadn’t told Eddie about any of them. He himself was already treated poorly by your peers, and you didn’t want him to suffer because of you, so you kept it all to yourself. That was starting to bubble up and boil over, though, and your crying became harder.

“M’sorry,” you sniffled, scrubbing at the shirt underneath the kitchen faucet. It was Eddie’s shirt, his coveted Hellfire Club shirt, and you knew that was why Heather had targeted you in the first place at lunch that day. “Spilled a drink, I-I’m just clumsy. Go back to your book, don’t worry about it.”

Eddie stood by you, his brown eyes full of concern. “Well, I am gonna worry about it,” he told you. “You’re crying, something happened.”

“Nothing happened,” you insisted quickly. The suds in the sink were growing with the running water, and you quickly turned the handle and shut the tap off. “Please believe me.”

“I don’t,” Eddie told you, and he reached out for your hands. When you turned away from him, though, Eddie’s big eyes softened. “You’re crying way too hard for just spilling a drink. And it’s the middle of the day and you have that geometry test this afternoon. You wouldn’t skip that. Tell me what happened.”

“Eddie, God, listen to me!” you whined. “Nothing happened! I’m just upset because it’s your shirt, it’s gonna stain…”

“It’s just a shirt, baby,” Eddie chuckled lightly, like he didn’t really believe in his own laughter. “I can make another one, it’s no big deal.”

“It is to me,” you told him, and Eddie’s arms finally captured you around your waist, tugging you close into his warm body. The safety of his chest, his comforting smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne, the reassuring beat of his heart; it was all too much, and you turned and sobbed into his chest.

“Baby,” Eddie whispered, his hands smoothing down your back comfortingly. “Baby, baby, calm down. Look at me, tell me what happened.” His hands lifted up to your face and lightly touched your cheeks, and his thumb smoothed down your cheekbone. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, and Eddie placed a gentle kiss on your mouth. When he pulled away, his eyebrows were furrowed, his face a slate of seriousness. “I know you aren’t crying over staining my shirt. What happened? Who hurt you?”

You couldn’t bear it anymore, and you pressed your face forward, touching your forehead to his chest. “D-During lunch, Heather came a-and threw her drink on me. I-I—”

“Fuckin’ Heather again?” Eddie seethed, his teeth clenched. “I thought you said she backed off!”

“No,” you shook your head, sniffling. “I-I never said that, I-I just stopped telling you about it.”

You could tell that he was hurt by you keeping things from him. Eddie always wore his heart right on his sleeve, and the redness in his cheeks was clue enough for you to know that he was upset. “Well, what did she do?” Eddie asked.

“Does it matter?” you muttered, and Eddie’s big hands captured your cheeks again and forced your face up to look at him in the eye.

“Yes, it fucking matters!” Eddie exclaimed. “What did she do to you?”

“Sh-She…” you began. “She said… She came up to me, I-I was just walking to the table… I saw Dustin, he waved at me, a-and I… She didn’t even try to make it look like an accident, she just did it. Splashed it on me and laughed, a-and she said…” You trailed off, pausing to catch your breath, and Eddie’s grip faltered on your face for just a moment. “She said ‘say hi to your freak for me’ or something…”

“Jesus,” Eddie mumbled. “She only did it because I wasn’t there.”

“No, Eddie, no,” you sighed. “She would have done it anyway.”

“No, she wouldn’t have,” Eddie told you. “If it’s me she’s got the problem with, she can talk to me. Jesus Christ, baby, I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of my bullshit.”

“I’m used to it,” you sniffled, and your heart nearly stopped when you saw Eddie’s reaction, his eyes going big and his pink mouth opening in shock. “No! I-I mean, I’m used to Heather’s shit, n-not—”

“No, no, you’re absolutely right,” Eddie said, nodding. “I wrap you up in my shit time and time again, and now they’re targeting you. That’s not right, baby, I’m so sorry.” His arms went around you tightly, and he squeezed you close to him. “So, what happened after that? You just walked out?”

“Yeah,” you uttered. “I just couldn’t… Everyone was laughing at me.”

“No, they weren’t,” Eddie mumbled, trying to soothe you, but you sniffled and wrestled yourself out of his arms.

“Yes, they were!” you whimpered. “You weren’t there, you didn’t see it! They were all laughing! I-I just ran…” You turned back to the sink, to where Eddie’s shirt hung limply in the sudsy water, the brown soda stain still in the white fabric. “I always fucking run.”

“Come here,” Eddie whispered, and he pulled you back into his arms once more. His front molded against your back perfectly, like two puzzle pieces, and he placed a kiss to your shoulder, just next to the strap of your bra. “I’m sorry that happened, baby. I’m so fucking sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you fix this?”

You shook your head, your hands drifting to lay on top of his. Your head hurt from how hard you had been crying, and you sniffled and melted back into Eddie’s body, grabbing his hands tightly. “I love you,” you whispered. You didn’t know what else to say.

“I love you too,” Eddie whispered back, and he kissed the back of your head. “Go take a shower and lay down, baby, I can finish this. It’ll be fine, okay? Will the school call your parents? Are you gonna get in trouble?”

“Probably,” you sighed. “But I’m staying here for now. I don’t… I just need you.”

You did as Eddie asked of you, cleaning the sticky Tab off of your arms and chest in a hot shower, and you settled yourself in Eddie’s bed. His blankets smelled so strongly of him, of the smell of his body and hair, and you wriggled yourself into a warm nest as you heard Eddie in the kitchen. He was speaking to someone, likely Dustin on his little walkie talkie, based on certain words you caught: “Hellfire” and “Heather” and “Did she really…”.

Eventually, by the time sleepiness was making your eyelids sticky, Eddie slowly opened the bedroom door with a quick but quiet knock. “Hi, princess,” he said softly. “So, good news: I got the stain out. The Hellfire shirt lives to see another day.”

“That’s good,” you whispered, pulling the blankets up to your chin. Eddie slowly made his way to the bed and he carefully sat down, as if any quick movements would startle you too much. His hand lightly touched your cheek, tracing your cheekbone, and you reached out of the blanket and curled your fingers into his. “Who were you talking to?”

“Dustin and Mike,” Eddie said. “They were telling me everything that had happened. Baby, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You shrugged and sighed heavily. “I don’t know,” you said. “You have your own shit to deal with, I didn’t want you to worry about my shit too.”

“Baby,” Eddie said softly, and he brushed a lock of your hair out of your tired eyes. “They’re teasing you about me. It’s okay to tell me.”

“But…” you started. “I didn’t want you to feel bad about yourself.”

“Does it look like I do?” Eddie chuckled. “Listen, I’ll deal with this, I don’t want you worrying about it anymore.”

“How’re you gonna deal with it?” you asked, your heart suddenly racing. Eddie wasn’t violent, nor did he necessarily have the people skills required to talk it out, and you started to sit up and protest, “Eddie—”

Eddie shushed you gently, and he put his hand on your shoulder to push you back down to bed. “I told you, I’ll handle it,” he said. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, okay?”

As much as you wanted to protest, you couldn’t help but believe him. He would take care of his shit, and apparently yours too, as much as you hated for him to worry about you and your bullshit. You knew him, and you knew that he wouldn’t break his word to you.

“Are you going to talk to them now?” you asked, and Eddie nodded.

“Dustin told me that Lucas said they’re having a party tonight,” Eddie told you. “I’m gonna go and just talk to Heather, see what her fuckin’ problem is.”

“Okay,” you mumbled. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Babe,” Eddie chuckled, and he shrugged. “I’m me. When have I ever done anything stupid?” He paused for a second, just long enough for you to roll your eyes at him, and he added, “Actually, don’t answer that. How about you go ahead and take a nice nap, and I’ll be home by the time you wake up?”

Eddie left you with one last kiss on your lips, and he kept his word to you. You drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep, and you felt everything happening through a veil. You weren’t sure how long Eddie was gone, but you heard him come back into the trailer after the sun had stopped shining through the windows. He didn’t come into the bedroom for a long time, but, when he finally did, you sensed him sitting on the floor beside the bed as opposed to on it, right next to you. He watched you in your twilight sleep for a moment, and you finally opened your eyes to see him.

His eyes were big and wet as he watched you sleep, but you couldn’t even focus on his lovely eyes. His nose was stained red with blood, his upper lip bearing the same red stains, his bottom lip bruised and bloody as well. “Eddie,” you gasped, snapping awake and alert in a moment. “Jesus! What happened to you?”

“I tried to talk to Heather,” Eddie told you gently. He tenderly touched your chin, letting his thumb touch your bottom lip, and he said, “I showed up and everyone started acting all fucked up, like, I knew I wasn’t welcome, right? Anyway, I found her and was just trying to talk, but she kept raising her voice, y’know? Talking over me and shit. Her boyfriend eventually came and was making it worse, and he threw a punch at me.”

“Eddie,” you gasped and reached out for his face. It looked like his nose had been bleeding at one point and was stopped for now, red bloodstains on his shirt from the drip of it, and he winced every time he touched his lip. “Baby, what the fuck, are you okay?”

“I’ll be okay,” Eddie said. “He didn’t break my nose or anything, so it’ll be fine.”

You sighed heavily and rolled out of bed, and you yawned as you went into the bathroom in pursuit of anything that might help clean him up. You searched through the cabinet and under the sink, until you finally found a little bottle of hydrogen peroxide, almost completely empty. It was better than nothing, though, so you grabbed it, along with a towel that hung on the back of the bathroom door, and you came back to Eddie.

He was still sitting on the floor, and you made camp next to him before dotting some peroxide on the corner of the towel. “Let me see you,” you mumbled, gently turning Eddie’s face to look at you, and you tenderly began to clean up his lip. He winced and hissed at the sting of it against his wound, and it was your turn to gently shush him. “I know, baby,” you whispered.

Quickly, Eddie’s hand fell to your waist, and he tugged you into his lap. Your legs parted around his waist as you sat, and his arms were tight around your middle as he hugged you and settled his face in your chest. “Can we do that later?” he asked softly. “I just need you right now.”

“Baby, what happened to you?” you asked with a frown, and you set aside the towel and bottle to press Eddie’s head close to your heart. His hair was soft as you carded your fingers through it, and you gently kissed his head.

“He said somethin’ ‘bout you,” Eddie mumbled. “Something real nasty, called you… Whatever, doesn’t matter. But he had been hitting me and I just couldn’t take it anymore… I threw a punch back. I think I broke his nose.” He laughed a little, just a small huff out of his nose, but you knew that he was bothered by his actions. Eddie wasn’t mean or violent, like everyone in Hawkins thought he was, but now he had just gone and proved them right.

You held Eddie tight, smoothing down his hair and letting him hold you back just as tightly. He definitely needed that extra bit of loving, and you kissed his head gently. “I love you, Eddie,” you whispered, and he grabbed at your shirt, holding you right against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat on your stomach, his head situated right over your own heart, and he planted a kiss on your chest.

“Love you too, baby,” he mumbled.

You sighed and played with his hair a little more, and you whispered, “My mighty protector. Wait until Hellfire hears about this, you’re turning into your DnD character, baby.”

“Protecting princesses and shit,” Eddie chuckled, and you knew that your man was back. “All in a day’s work.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things fanfic #my writing

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goldribboncottage · 5 months

Text

Rock Her Shit | Hazel Callahan x Reader

Brain is rotting all I can think about is Hazel Hazel Hazel so I wrote this. Your crush Hazel punches you in the face and needs to do first aid. Locker room lesbian activities happen.

plus size/tall reader implied, she’s bigger than hazel is at least. i will probably make a part two because i fantasize about reader kicking PJ in the chest after saying mean things to Hazel

Your favorite thing about Hazel, besides her deep blue eyes, dimples, and adorably awkward personality, was her rings. All silver, probably curated from years of thrifting and estate sales. Your favorite was one she had favored on her right middle finger. It was some sort of bug. You were never able to get a close enough look at it. But it hurt like a bitch when it collided with your face.

Slamming down on the gym floor added to the pain. Hazel was a lot shorter than you, and probably half your weight. You had taken a liking to platform shoes lately - that only added to your size difference. But as little as she was. she was strong.

“Oh SHIT!” You heard one of the girls say. Your ears were ringing. A blurry Hazel is above you, hair falling wildly over her face. Your head falls to the side, searching for some comfort on the cold hardwood floor.

“Y/N? Y/N are you okay?” Hazel looked so concerned, pleading eyes and furrowed brows. She pouted and shook you to get a response. You could hear the other girls in the fight club chattering, wondering what to do. All you could think to do was laugh.

“What the fuck Callahan.” You turn towards her and smile, but see tears welling in her eyes “I thought we were becoming friends. Help me up.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to ohmygod you’re bleeding. SHE’S BLEEDING SOMEONE GET A TOWEL!” She grabs your arm places her hand under your head to help you sit up. You brought your hand up to your left cheek feeling warmth and see crimson as you lift it away. Huh. You were bleeding.

“Hazel, I’ll be fine. I’m super tough. One time in girl scouts I slept in a tent. For three nights!” you tried to ease the tension and sad look on her face. This made her smile a little bit, so you continued. You couldn’t stand her looking so remorseful. “And once, when I went to a movie, they were out of blue raspberry ICEEs. I was so brave about it. I only drank cherry that night. I can basically handle anything.”

You can see the tension in her melt away, and Sylvie hands her a towel. “This still looks pretty bad. Let’s go to the bathroom so I can clean you up. I think my ring cut you.” Hazel hands you the towel and shows you where to hold it.

Standing all the way up now, you make your way to the locker room with her.

You lean against the sink, looking at your bloody face in the mirror. Could be cool, you thought, a scar right on your cheek. Maybe it would make your eyes pop.

Hazel brings an old plastic chair for you to sit in. “My lady,” She gestures you to sit down. She also found a first aid kit in the coach’s office. She throws the bloody towel in the trash and begins to clean your wound. It stings, but you try not to show it. She leans over you as she helps you. Hazel is really gentle, taking her time to clean your cut.

“Does that feel better?”

You nodded but didn’t know what to say, so you just sat quietly, letting her do first aid on you and taking this opportunity to study her face. Her eyes seemed darker somehow. You knew they were blue, but the bad locker room lighting made them almost black. You noticed how sometimes a piece of hair would fall into her face and annoy her. You wanted to tuck it behind her ear for her. Pieces stuck out randomly, her hair looked so soft. She kept making eye contact with you and abruptly looking away.

You had never been this close to her before. You had admired her from afar when fight club started, reading her recap emails and giggling at the weird things she said. You had shared classes with her since freshman year but had never really /noticed/ her. Too caught up in your own world and studies. But she crashed into your life and demanded attention.

Your eyes, naturally, fell to her lips. They looked kind of chapped, and she had a small tear from a fight with PJ last week. They looked so soft. Pink. Kissable. Something overcame you then, and before you knew it your hand was on her face, fingers resting on her round cheeks, thumb brushing the injury on her bottom lip.

“Y/N?” Hazel locks eyes with you. Frozen. Unsure what to do. She just punched you in the face and cut your cheek with a dragonfly ring, now here you are staring up at her with glossy eyes and parted lips, your hand on her face.

“Yeah?” You bite your lip in response. No going back now. You tuck a piece of hair behind her face and she kneels down before you.

“Are you gonna kiss me?” Hazel inquires.

“Do you want me to?” You ask back.

“Yes please.”

Your lips meet, tasting like honey chapstick and Hazel. Your hand finds the back of her head and you deepen the kiss. Her lip splits open again and adds the taste of metallic blood to your kiss. You didn’t care. Something insatiable was unlocked in you, Hazel’s grip going to your hips that spilled over the small school issued chair.

She climbs up on to you, straddling you and gripping the back of your head. Your other hand goes to the curve of her lower back. All of the pain in your head is forgotten when she grips your waist and pulls you into her.

Open, wet kisses follow, moaning into each other, needing more more more. She grabs your face in her hands and moves you toward her. The pain of your cheek only intensifies the pleasure of Hazel’s lips on yours, tongues together.

Hands go wild on each other, hers lift the side of your shirt to grab your love handles, so aptly named. Your hands creep under the back of her oversized t shirt, when you hear the door to the locker room open. Thank god you’re out of sight.

“Hey Hazel how is Y/N doing? Do you guys need any help?”

Hazel’s eyes grow wide and her head whips towards Josie’s voice. Breathless, she replies “We’re good! Thanks! Just bandaging her up now! Be out soon.”

You look at each other again, and Hazel places soft, tender kisses to your lips and uncut cheek.

“What just happened?” She asks you, as if your guess is any better than hers.

“I don’t know, but I’d like if it happened again. And again, and again.” You smile and look up at the girl in your lap. Her bunny teeth and dimples show as she nods furiously.

“Let me actually clean you up now. Shit. There’s blood on my hand. Oh my god. I’m not a very good nurse. I told them we needed to bring in a first aid person! PJ never wants to listen to what I say.” As she lifts herself off you, you can’t help but miss the weight on your hips.

“Well I am very sorry for interrupting your healing nurse Hazel. If there’s any way I can make it up to you please let me know. I promise to be the perfect patient next time.” You make your way over to the sink and wash your wound once again. “It doesn’t look too bad, I think just a larger bandaid will be fine. I’ll take good care of it. No more hot girls grabbing my face.”

“Hot girls? What?” Hazel looks worried before you reassure her.

“I mean you. You are the hot girl.” You smile at each other.

“Oh. Okay” She sounds relieved. “Yeah just, let me grab a bandaid and we can go back out there and nothing happened here okay?” She turns away from you and opens the first aid kit, searching for something to protect your face.

“Hazel, I don’t want to forget this. I really like you. Like. Romantically as a human person. I know there’s obvious sexual compatibility but I would love to take you out on a date if you want?” You were incredibly nervous to ask her out, despite the fact that you had been dry humping less than a minute earlier.

She opens the bandaid and places it lovingly on your cheek, looking up at you before responding. “Yeah. Yes. I would really like that. My mom just bought me a car so I can take us anywhere you want to go. The planetarium is starting a new series next week. I like to go there. Or we can go on a picnic or see a movie or something. I like to go to the special screenings the theater has where the sound isn’t as loud. It’s on Saturday mornings and it’s mostly kids movies bu-“

You cut her off with a peck on the lips. “I’d be happy to do any and all of those things. But let’s get back out there, okay? I don’t want the girls to worry about me. I’ll call you when the club is over.”

“Yeah, okay! Yeah” She motions for you to lead the way out. Back into the gym of a dozen girls wondering why it took you so long to clean up, concerned for your well being.

#bottoms movie #hazel bottoms #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms hazel #hazel callahan imagine #bottoms movie 2023 #hazel callahan x you #lesbian #lesbin fanfiction #plus size reader

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chrliekclly · 22 days

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if you ever want to talk about your thoughts on joyce .. Peeks over the corner of your blog. i love talking and hearing ppls thoughts on joyce sooo much even if they're different from my own!! and your analysis and stuff is always so well thought out

i hope u dont mind if i answer this publicly to take advantage of th request nd get my ideas out ther (also tyvm im happy u like my insane takes on these idiots, iv ben thinking abt them for almost 10 years)

i said a lot here so gnna 'read more' it

iv ben building trans charlie n my head fr, like i said, nearly 10 years. i used to view him as cis bcuz i always try to take as much frm th source material as i can wen i craft my HCs nd i had v personal (stupid) hangups insofar as him explicitly referring to his junk multiple times nd bottom surgery simply not being on my radar as a naive littl trans idiot deep in th sauce tht transmen oftn fall into w phallo being viewed so so poorly

evn still i leaned towards transmasc charlie nd always lovd moments tht let me imagine, for a moment, it being true, like his discomfort w taking off his shirt [hundred dollar baby, charlie kelly: king of the rats, the gang exploits the mortgage crisis, young charlie and mac deleted scenes, etc etc etc], or bonnie yelling abt ppl stealing her "charlie-girl" [the waitress is getting married] which i lovd to see as her accidentally misgendering him while drunk off her ass.

having grown out of my phallo issues (nd if ur reading this and u still view phallo super poorly, please do some research and grow too), ive in recent years fully subscribed to transmasc/nb charlie, and view his timeline something like this:

baby -> elementary: charlie refers to himself as a boy, doesnt "come out," simply has no idea he's afab. bonnie lets him dress however he wants and refers to him as asked. when charlie gets confused about his genitals, bonnie says his dick will grow in later lol, makes charlie wear a dress in public restrooms and tells him its just a game

middle: puberty hits and charlie gets confused and scared. bonnie puts him on blockers w.o explaining them ("my mom used to vaccinate me like every month" [the gang gets quarantined]) charlie goes on content and oblivious. STP acquired because hes "a late bloomer" and his dicks still not growing in?? weird. confides this in mac once, but he doesn't understand.

high: charlie finally registers that he's trans after forgetting theres a health class 1 day and not being able to skip it. throws him for a loop a bit but he becomes actively invested in his goals. he gets to start T and wants to have surgeries. "what guy hasnt done some extensive research on his own genitalia?" [mac is a serial killer]

college (aged): able to surgically transition (ty medicare) and continues on with life as we kno him now

joyce, imo, fits neatly into these views.

as a transmasc nb who came out young nd prefers to be seen as just A Guy by strangers, i grew up v vehemently against anything girly that might get me misgendered, but th more i began to 'pass,' th more @ home n my body i felt, th more and more comfortable i am w femininity, th more i wdnt mind putting on a dress, as long as th general public wd see me as "a man in women's clothes." n my mind, i prescribe something not exactly th same but v similar to charlie.

i see charlie "i dont really identify" kelly as afab and nb. i see joyce as a "character" he originally created to distance himself from the dysphoria of putting on a dress as a young trans boy, but that became part of him as the hard lines he drew in the sand as a child became blurry with age and self acceptance. charlie's comfort with himself allows joyce to evolve into a more solid persona, one he enjoys embodying and allowing to become a permanent facet of who he is. he's ok with being referred to as either. they're both him.

so maybe joyce comes out a bit more outside of the bathroom now.

#ask #pariskim #charlie kelly #joyce kelly #ramblings #i hav lots of thoughts nd feelings nd smday ill draw out charlie's whole timeline th way iv ben meaning to #th same way charlie holds th gang togethr charlie holds my whole viewpoint of iasip togethr #i gave myself a headache writing this post i spent more time xplaining my years of tboy charlie thinking than joyce im sry lmao #but i do lov her

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seattlesellie · 1 year

Text

im having…. thoughts… about guitarist!ellie and lead singer!reader in a fleetwood mac type band.

so imagine you and ellie are fucking famous. like super fucking famous rockstars. she’s the rough, eclectic, groupie magnet guitarist, and you are the desirable, beautiful lead singer and lyricist of the band. the world is practically yours. touring all over, days filled with music, recording studios, top notch producers, assistants, all the clothes you could ever wish for. and the nights - always fucking blurry, chaotically beautiful messes. drugs youve never even heard of, alcohol, chasing the darkness and partying till you and the band are black out drunk in a fucking billionaires’s apartment in downtown nyc.

you have everything you want in the palms of your delicate, yet masterful hands. the thing is…

the fucking lead guitarist. shes a fucking menace. all you do is argue, throw shit at each other when she doesn’t understand what chord you wanted her to play, or when she thinks one of your new songs are stupid, “user your brain” she throws. it always gets heated when you two are around each other. its like when you two start arguing all the other band members completely shut off. they used to get involved, pin you back when you grabbed one of the drummer’s sticks ready to shove it inside of ellie’s eyeball, or when she got so pissed at you for telling her she “needs to practice one more time” she almost broke her guitar in half on your very own head. but now - they just leave the studio, or the apartment, or the middle of your giant loft, and let you two go at it, scream until your voice cracks, leaving you two red faced and panting until one of them decides to throw a bottle of whiskey directly into ellie’s hands so she could take a shot and chill the fuck out before she destroys everything near her.

you dont know what it is. you have no idea why you keep clashing with her like two fucking war enemies, two hungry lions in a cage.

but when you get on that stage - to everyone’s disbelief, thats where the magic happens. your chemistry is off the charts. the sound of your voice, the movement of your body in contrast to her rough stance and loud guitar create something that is so beautiful it almost hurts. chaos turns into an absolute electric masterpiece. when you’re standing there, almost going deaf over the screaming sounds of your adoring crowd, you and ellie collide. all the fights turn into harmony. a rough, harsh, rock&roll harmony. you two are mixed into one, leaving everybody yearning for more.

i keep imagining this scene where you two had a huge fight before a show. one that left you trembling and crying and seeking for help. ellie’s been bringing a new imbecile, empty eyed groupie to rehearsals every day. its like she does it on purpose. she takes ownership of your songs and dedicates them to those girls. “this ones for you, beautiful” she says in her husky voice, the one she uses with them, since it always fucking works, before glaring at you, knowing you were already twitching your hand, enraged.

you go up on stage after a screaming fest with ellie (dare i say your band is playing the chain by fleetwood mac… if u know u know) and you sing your fucking heart out, sweating, dancing around like no ones watching, bewitching the crowd. and then the sound of her guitar gets louder. its louder than your voice, making you sound like youre miles away. and youre on the stage ground - because you were giving the crowd what they were asking for. hair sticking to your forehead, throat burning like fire. and ellie comes over, walks toward you slowly, with a look on her face you could only describe as raging and… hungry. her hands playing the guitar so harshly you swear you can see small dots of blood forming on her calloused, guitarist fingertips. the sounds of the electric guitar are deafening but oh so beautiful, electric. youre on the ground, in your flowy white skirt, and as soon as almost you manage to get up, she steps on the fabric, and youre on your knees. you cant move, and her gaze is so sharp you think she see’s through you. the crowd is going fucking wild, screaming and begging for more - and you cant move.

i couldnt stop thinking about this omfg guys. i wanna do a full on fic.

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #the last of us #ellie williams smut #tlou #wlw #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #fanfiction #lesbian #wlw fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #Spotify

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aalyssah · 1 year

Text

Fun Night

Pairing: Solo Sikoa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Word Count: 1,258

A/N: This was requested by @xxdevillexx. I LOVE this idea so much! Also, I wanted to say, sorry that this isn't super fluffy and that it's long. Hope You Enjoy!

You just got the opportunity to be a number one contender for the women's title.

You walked backstage, instantly being met with praises from your fellow co workers. "Hey, we should all go out for drinks as a celebration!" You thought about it for a moment. "Y'know what? Sure!" The girls cheered and parted ways to get ready.

You went to the Bloodline's locker room to get your clothes. "Y/n, good job!" You smiled even more at the praises of your teammates. "I'm going to the bar with a few girls, does anyone want to come?"

Everyone politely declined. "Alright, I'll see y'all tomorrow." You grabbed a pair of clothes and walked out to the girls locker room.

You were walking to the parking lot, until someone stopped you. "Y/n." Solo's deep voice made you turn around. "Yeah, babe?" He looked at you up and down, admiring your outfit. "You gonna be okay tonight without anyone coming with you?"

You nodded your head, throwing him a smile. "Yeah, I'll be alright, why'd you ask?" He looked around, thinking for a second. "Because you don't usually go out to public places alone, so I wanted to make sure that you were comfortable."

You loved how much of a caring and concerned boyfriend he was over your safety. "I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow." You gave him a kiss on his cheek and got your car with a blush on your face.

You made it to the bar and everyone was already waiting for you. "Sorry guys, me and Solo were having a little talk." Becky looked at you, raising her eyebrows up and down. "You and Solo, talking?" You shook your head, taking a sip of a drink Charlotte got you.

"Not like that you weirdos! He just wanted to make sure I was gonna be okay." Beside you, Liv bumped shoulders sending a wink. You rolled your eyes at everyone's saying. "So what do you plan on doing after you win the title, Y/n?"

Bayley asked, smiling. "Well, IF I win it, I'll try to hold it as long as I can for the legacy of The Bloodline." There was a look of disapproval on Sonya's face. "Uh, not to ruin your moment, but don't you think you should break away from the team?"

All attention snapped on Sonya. "What do you mean?" Sonya shrugged her shoulders, playing with the straw in her drink. "I don't know, I just think you should go solo or with Sami.” Your brows scrunched down in slight anger. "Are you telling me to leave my group?"

Sonya's eyes grew wider at your tone. "N-no, I'm- y'know what, never mind let's enjoy our drinks." She let out an awkward laugh, downing her drink. "I need something stronger." You said, getting up and going to the bar. The girls stayed behind, letting you cool down for a second.

You ordered your drink and watched everyone having a good time. You should be the one, not sitting at the bar after a small argument. You thanked the bartender, taking a sip of your drink.

Just then, a waitress came up with plaster of drinks. "Someone call for a celebration?!" Everyone started cheering, taking drinks. The drinks were so good that you didn't know how many you were drinking.

The intro of your favorite song started playing and you looked at Liv. "Let's dance!" Liv dragged you to the dance floor, grinding and groping you. Somehow you were pulled into the middle, all eyes on you both. "Shots!" Some random lady called out, drinks being poured in cups.

You also did some karaoke. It might've been a little sloppy, but people still cheered you on. You were having the time of your life, but then your friends start leaving. "Liv, I think I'm gonna go!"

You yelled over the music. "Alright, babe. I'm gonna stay with Rhea. Enjoy your night!" She gave a small kiss to your cheek and out you went. Your vision was slightly blurry and you stumbled as you walked.

You might be tipsy or slightly drunk, but you know better than to drive, so you pulled your phone out and called Solo. All it took was 2 rings and he picked up. "Y/n? Are you okay?"

You giggled, hearing his worried voice. "Y-yeah, could you- you come pick me up?" Your random stuttering and the way you slurred your words made him already know what happened.

"Y/n, are you drunk?" You hummed for a second. "No! I mean, I don't think I am?" Solo was already out the hotel lobby, in his car. "Share me your address."

You let out a confused sound, not knowing what he was talking about. "I can do that? How?" Solo huffed, running through how to share your location and was there within 10 minutes.

"Oh god." He mumbled, seeing you rock back and forth while looking up in the sky. "Y/n!" You looked at Solo with a smile. "Come on, let's go home." He tried pulling you to his car, but you began fighting back.

"Hey! Stop it! Leave me alone or else I'll call my boyfriend!" Solo couldn't help, but chuckle at your words. "I'm sure he'll know." He successfully got you in the car. While driving you home, he answered weird questions that you had such as;

'Why are there bright dots in the sky?' And 'What if people could teleport?'

He carried you in the hotel lobby, elevator, and even to the room, without a single protest coming from you. He gently set you down to the couch and began removing your shoes. "No!" You kicked him away, earning a hiss from him.

"Do I have to tell my boyfriend that you tried kidnapping me, and that you're trying to undress me? I will NOT let that happen!" Solo laughed, putting his face in his hands. You ended up taking your shoes off.

He guided you to the bathroom and turned the water on. "Take the your clothes off and get in." He left out, getting a microwavable Mac & Cheese cup and some left over chicken ready for you to eat. Solo came back, sitting on the ground and put your favorite soap on the loofah.

He gently scrubbed your body, surprised that you sat still. Next squirted some shampoo in his hand and gave you a scalp massage. You sat back, finally feeling relaxed as his nails gently scratched at a particular part.

It was cut short when the water came back on, rinsing the shampoo out. He grabbed a towel, holding it out for you when you jumped in his arms. He dried you off and put you over his shoulder as he dropped you on the bed.

“Change and I'll get you some food." He went back to the kitchen, thinking you would grab some of your clothes, but of course when he saw you, you were wearing one of his shirts and a pair of panties.

He let you get situated on the bed before handing you the cup. "Eat at least 6 bites and then you can go to sleep." As soon as he said that, he took notice of how droopy your eyes looked.

He went to change into his own pajamas, but when he came back, you were already asleep. He took the cup and placed it on the nightstand before cuddling you to his chest.

He can’t wait to tell you all about the fun night you had.

#solo sikoa #solo sikoa fluff #solo sikoa imagine #solo sikoa smut #solo sikoa x reader #solo sikoa fic #wwe fluff #wrestling fluff #wwe smut

220 notes · View notes

xanderindisguis · 4 months

Note

just started animating after procrastinating starting it for years and im already going insane, any tips?

Four things I feel is important to note

Analyze other animations, note things you like and why, slow it down and take in the frames

Go easy on yourself, permit mistakes, make it messy, if there's something you could've done better that you realize after you made the animation then use that knowledge for the future

Take care of yourself!!! Eating, staying hydrated, getting good sleep, all that is super important outside of animating and super important when animating

And. PLAN your animations, each scenario you want, write down how you want the characters to move, I don't normally do this (DON'T FOLLOW MY EXAMPLE 🙏) but it's super helpful when I do

For the animating part itself, I'm not sure how to word it, things I found help me when animating is

- Lower FPS (I usually go with 9-11)

- Playing with duplicated frames, a common thing I do is duplicate frames to avoid redrawing them so much

- Not caring if the outline is blurry, distorted, or messy because I used the lasso tool to correct something. As long as it looks smooth, you know what you're looking at, and it gets the job done

- What I call "fade ins/outs". For example, you have two keyframes (move hand from A to B), you redraw the first one but slightly different (Hand moves like 2 pixels or smth), you redraw it again (hand moves 7 pixels), middle frame (between A and B), and do the exact same process but backwards

BUT a things I want people to know because I see it a lot and it makes me itch in a bad way

- When lip syncing, unless the anatomy of the character is different, or you have a style that fits it, THE JAW ALWAYS GOES DOWN. Your focus should be on opening it downwards

- CONSISTENCY, while your sketches may be lazy, please keep them consistent to the original frame. Don't stray TOO far from the keyframe, like something's too big, or the size keeps changing, or even in cases of lip syncing where the way it moves is different each time (Up down up down up down left up, yk??). THIS ONLY EVER WORKS if the situation calls for it!!!

((I've done tgis before witg lip syncing....))

- PLEASE. Note how to use smear frames. In small movements, it's not necessary, someone raising their arm doesn't need a giant smear to do. Use them when there's exaggerated, quick motions, and make sure there's still form to it so it's not just a blob

(Completely off topic, but there was a trend on tiktok with a filter where they'd make a hand shift into another thing like 🤚 to ✌️, and it bothered me so much because EVRRYYY time there was a smear frame BUT IT WASN'T NECESSARY and sometimes even ruined it)

- Don't be afraid to skip middle frames, like when someone's shaking an item in their hand, as long as the two keyframes are there and a few extra frames after the action, it should be alright, or when someone's laughing

I think that's about all I can say

62 notes · View notes

undead-supernova · 13 days

Text

This Love is a Shrouded Mystery

Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10

Masterlist

plot: welcome to your well-anticipated album release party! you couldn't be happier...right?

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: bro there's so much angst I'm sorry, mention of smoking & alcohol

easter egg count: 20

wc: 5k

note: I made the album cover/tracklist and wrote all of the lyrics mentioned in this chapter and I'm super proud of it! Thank you for reading my hard work hehhehehehee

ALSO DO NOT REPOST THESE LYRICS ANYWHERE ! Thank yew

He hated all the tiny things.

The way you crinkled your nose every time The Beatles came on. How you held your acoustic guitar like it was a delicate creature. The nights he would be up late practicing, only to find you passed out with your mouth slightly ajar and snoring. The mornings he spent listening to you making little sounds in your sleep, as if you were so close to saying something but didn’t know how. Your poetry and your music and your scent and your stupid smile you got whenever you looked at him and how grateful he’d been when he first noticed.

And he really didn’t hate it at all.

He just missed you.

It was fucking torture, being away from you. He sat up, night after night, wondering what you were doing. How you felt now. If you wanted him back. If he was better off without you. If you could ever speak cordially and what that would cost.

As if he truly cared about the answer or the consequences.

Eddie just missed you.

You stared at yourself in the floor-length mirror, looking over your outfit for tonight. Trying not to suck in your stomach, trying to let yourself be the person that you wanted to be.

A spaghetti-strapped crop top with Madonna-Whore Complex stitched in white across the breasts. Short shorts just to say Fuck You. Block-heeled boots laced up to your knees. All dolled up with a diamond necklace and thin rings. A velvet choker with a broken heart pendant in the middle.

There you were, a vision in pink.

There you were, a shell of the person you used to be.

Maybe it would be better to play a role tonight.

But nothing was able to halt the worry, halt the anxiety that coursed through your veins.

That last night, with your eyes glistening with grief, you’d told him you had to go into hiding. That you needed to get away from the public eye. That he couldn’t come with you. But he’d seen pictures of you since, albeit a bit blurry, running in and out of the recording studio in New York City.

There was an edge to your outfits now, with a touch more lipstick and heavier eye shadow. Changed your hair and painted your nails anything but your usual pink. Your face, the one that once held a permanent smile for the press, now hardened. Blank expressions. No smile, no feigned light in your eyes.

It was like you were wearing some kind of armor.

It was like watching someone trying to adapt to their surroundings.

Flailing, slipping.

Trying to prove to everyone else they can do it without thinking about the consequences of their actions.

Eddie could only hope you wouldn’t let yourself drown in the process.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said for the third time in the last ten minutes.

If anyone had a goddamn braincell, they could see that you weren’t good. But this had been the last few months for you. Doing whatever anyone asked. Staying busy. In and out of the studio so often that it became your second home. You honestly couldn’t count how many times you’d fallen asleep—you got more there than when you were home anyways.

How could you when the only thing you saw behind your eyes were crashing waves, the roar of the boat as it pulled you further and further away from the life you desperately wished you were still living? You wrote and wrote and wrote, trying to make sense of it all. Trying to figure out how to apologize. How to profess your love. How to feel any semblance of desire to say goodbye.

Your label had been shocked when you’d gotten the album done so quickly after months of producing nothing—especially calling around and getting Halsey, Lucy Dacus, and Janelle Monaé to feature. Not to mention Maisie Peters who’d actually reached out to you. It was a match made in heaven, an album stitched and woven together by the bitterest fate.

The label gladly rolled everything into production, insisting that you do as much promotion as you could. So, you were a little money machine, doing bland Instagram reels and Tiktoks, practicing your smile in between takes. You were fine to be a puppet. You’d done everything they wanted you to, right? What’s a little bit more?

What’s better than tightening the collar on your losing dog?

“Can you get that done for me, sweetie?”

“It would be so nice if you could just do this one thing.”

“You know, the fans would love it if…”

“We’d be grateful if you just…”

“You look tired.”

You turned to Este, noticing her raised eyebrow and crossed arms. The past few minutes had been spent zoning out, trying to keep yourself from thinking too hard. But it only made things worse because all you could do was remember why you were trying so hard not to think. Your friends knew better, but you hated admitting to it.

“Just trying to wake up the excitement,” you lied.

“For yourself or for the label?” Becky asked.

You glanced over at the door before back at her. “Yes.”

“You got this, okay?” Mary encouraged, rubbing your back. “You’ll feel better once you get there. You know you will.”

“Yeah, you’re right. At least you guys are here.”

“We’d never miss it.”

A pang of grief washed through you at the reminder of someone who would most definitely miss tonight.

Eddie knew what tonight was—and he could’ve sworn it was going to kill him. Nothing hurt him more than not celebrating your album release with you. He was planning to show up and support you the best he could. Show you off. Make sure you felt as celebrated as you could be because you were so amazing.

But here he was, back in Wayne’s house for the weekend. Laying low, talking to the walls as if Wayne could hear him. Screaming at the ceiling for someone to give him a reason to make sense as to why his wounds were still bleeding. Even after five months.

Bouncing his knees on the edge of the guest bed, growing more and more anxious as the night fell. Going in and out of the back porch, cigarette after cigarette. Hoping and praying that Wayne was a ghost and was able to talk to him through the windchimes hanging by the front door. Feeling sick when they hadn’t moved. Not even once.

Fuck, Eddie should be there with you. He should be by your side.

Instead, he was ashing another cigarette and reaching for the Garfield mug hanging on the wall. Poured the last few sips of Jack Daniels left on the kitchen counter. Trudged back into the guest room.

Tried not to cry.

You were trying not to cry.

The party was spectacular, with all your favorite foods laid out and cake and your favorite music and your friends and, and, and…

It was everything you could ask for from tonight, but nothing you’d actually asked for. Clara had been sneaky, making sure that you assumed the livestream started two hours before it actually did. Brought you to this fancy restaurant, all decked out in themed balloons and pictures of you. A Congratulations banner and a big bottle of champagne for you to pop.

And you were happy, you really were. But there was just something that overwhelmed you about it all, something weighing on you. Something eating at your stomach, making it nearly impossible to eat or even talk correctly.

Scott kept you grounded the most, always giving you a word or two of encouragement. For the last five months, he’d been cautious of you. You knew it even if he never said it. Him and his wife, Rebecca, made sure to offer you a place to stay when New York started to feel like a stranger. And hiding out in Tennessee was never a bad idea, ending up getting a third home near him, just outside of Nashville.

Tonight was no different. It was in the way he offered you food, asked if you needed some more water. If you looked even remotely uncomfortable, Scott was there to direct you somewhere else. Kept whispering that you were doing great. Kept reassuring you that your album was amazing. That you were amazing. That it was all going to be okay.

And it was a daydream, a surreal experience you were still getting used to after five years slowly rising into the public eye. Now here you were releasing your third album, knowing in your bones that this was your best work yet.

And everyone was being so nice.

And the party was beautiful.

And you looked beautiful.

And…

And Eddie wasn’t there.

He wasn’t anywhere these days, actually. It was like he had vanished entirely. There were no paparazzi pictures, no fan sightings. Even People Magazine had him on the front cover literally saying, “Bad Boy Eddie Munson Mysteriously Disappears from Public Eye.” You were uncertain if he’d ever be seen again. And you knew it was your fault. All of it was.

What felt the strangest was how the internet was still speculating whether or not you and Eddie broke up. It had been five months and you hadn’t told your publicist to confirm it. Didn’t even speak of it.

The most peculiar thing was…neither had Eddie. There was nothing for anyone to do but question why the two of you hadn’t been spotted in public together even once.

Maybe one day you’d feel strong enough to bury this relationship.

Today definitely wasn’t that day.

And tonight definitely wasn’t it either.

But your album was all was about Eddie.

Everyone would know it.

And you just had to hope that one person out there would listen to it for the music and not for your real-life experiences.

But you guessed that was just how things would have to be.

So, you put on a smile and told yourself to get over it.

Smile for the cameras.

Come up with every way to deflect.

Since you’d broken up, it seemed that your label had set up a livestream for the fans to listen to the album with you at the same time. Experience it together. Get to send in questions. Get to connect. Eddie thought that was sweet, knowing how much you enjoyed talking to your fans.

And he knew he shouldn’t, but he really considered hopping on.

Was it a little weird for him to tune into the listening party?

Maybe.

But he wanted to hear the album, wanted to hear the songs you’d barely shown him when you were together. You were always so shy with your music you wrote for him—which was fair. He did the same thing, keeping any and all projects about you a secret. Hell, the new record set to drop next month was done in the last five, his fingers unable to do anything other than race up and down the neck. Stuffing his pick between his lips as he wrote and wrote and wrote. Tried to write himself out of whatever this black hole was that was starting to swallow him.

And now here he was, ready to hear what you had to say.

Sighing, he grabbed his laptop.

But maybe you were better off without him.

Maybe this was all for a reason and everything just had to happen this way. It would be a nice thought, right? A nice explanation for the twisting of your gut as you set up for the livestream. Standing on a pink stage, practicing your smile one last time before the cameras got the shot juuust right. Took a step to the right to show off a poster with the album cover on it.

All you could think as they counted down from five was, I hope Eddie is watching.

When Eddie saw you, he knew he’d fucked up already.

You were radiant, always a vision in pink. Always a vision, period.

The album cover had the name “Madonna-Whore Complex” with a picture in the center of bunched up silk—pink, of course. The same color you were wearing. The same color Eddie had yearned to wrap in his arms and make breakfast for.

And when Eddie heard your voice, his stomach flipped.

“So,” you started. “Before we even get to the tracks, I wanted to kinda explain the album title. I know people got a little weird about it, which is fair.”

Eddie could tell that you absolutely did not find that fair.

“But I think that we live in a society that is so obsessed with a woman’s place. If she’s happy with herself and comfortable with her sexuality, she must be seen as a villain or a whore. There’s no room for her to be a good person or even able to truly be in love.”

Something tugged at Eddie’s chest at the sound of you mentioning being in love. If only you’d said that to him five months ago. If only those words had left your lips, he’d have gotten on his hands and knees to make you stay.

But you hadn’t.

“It seems that you cannot be one or the other. Either you’re this harlot who runs through people like it’s nothing or you must be this chaste woman who is only allowed to be idle in the corner. I think that I’ve always been put in this position, and, with the content of this album, I feel like I’m able to both be satirical about those accusations and show the vulnerability of, um.” He watched your eyes dart away nervously before coming back. “The vulnerability of how that has affected my personal life and my personal relationships.”

“Oh, and I really love the back cover,” you said with a wide grin, shifting the subject. “Especially the track list and the font and, oh my god, the people I collaborated with? Incredible artists, right? I just feel really excited for you guys to hear it in a few minutes.”

It was then that he remembered he hadn’t looked at the track list, too anxious at the thought of you referencing anything about him on there. But of course, you did. What else would this album be about? Some other guy? He knew better than to speculate anything like that.

His heart began to race as he found it all laid out for him already, his words being spat back out at him. Something True. Could You Say the Same? Acceptance Speech. Trade You for the World. Could’ve Fooled Me.

Eddie’s stomach twisted, queasy with the exact anxiety that he’d spent the last few months trying to prevent. But he couldn’t run away from this. He was already here, watching you nearly trip over your heels in real time. Reading the titles out, each one feeling like a prison cell built just for him.

Shakily, you stated, “Okay, everyone. Let’s start the album.”

Took a deep breath.

Closed your eyes.

Eddie took a deep breath.

Closed his eyes.

And listened.

“Okay, my pretty boy…now move!”

Eddie felt like he was losing his ability to breathe. Track after track, jumbled with lyrics all meant for him. All written for him. Words upon words of poetry that told him how much you missed him and how guilty you fucking felt and how you just went ahead and chose the world over him and, dear god, it was all too much for him.

Grief settled in his chest at every line that he called his favorite.

Okay, Now Stop!

“Okay, now stop!

We're dancing dirty to The Beatles and the Stones.

Okay, now stop!

You're dancing pretty asking me to lead you home."

The Bisexual Slut (featuring Halsey)

“This one boy whimpers on his knees

Twenty girls beg to finally taste me

If I’m so greedy, so damn needy

Then why does their love come so easy?”

My Body, Your Choice

“Should I base my worth off your fickle insecurities?

Take a scalpel to my skin to justify your animosity?

If I’d known my body was stained with impurity

I would’ve begged my mother to deliver me with modesty

But I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing

Fuck you, I’ll never change a thing.”

Something True

“Tell me a story, one where love always dies

Say it with finality in your glassy brown eyes

Thread the needle to weave through our fate

Knowing the outcome, you still beg me to stay.”

Madonna-Whore Complex

“My halo slipped, and my limbs are sore

But his head seems to stay in between my legs

I’m wrapped around his fingers as they choke my neck

I’m his sweetheart, his princess, his saccharine whore.”

The Mess (You Once Called Yours)

“And your fingerprints stain this house

Baby, I’m haunted by your phantom touch

Oh, now I’m screaming and pleading, growling and howling,

‘Please end this agony, my love, it’s all too much.’”

Your Residential Coward

“Guess she’ll never really let me live that down

Throwing daggers at my portrait now that I’m gone

And now that I finally see my tilted crown

It turns out I was the jester all along.”

Could You Say the Same?

“Simple questions come with simple answers

That’s why I sew my mouth shut

The moment I saw you, wild necromancer

Devotion gnawed at my gut.”

Synonymous (featuring Lucy Dacus)

“Sucking in my stomach in attempt to survive

It’s like I’m fifteen again

All crooked teeth, low self-esteem, and love-deprived

Only coping with a wilted pen.”

My Gentleman

“You’ll never let me look away, that is the cerulean dream

Could be your future wife if we let our consciousness stream

And I confess I don’t think that would be too much to hope for

So keep talking like that, let the wine pour, pour, pour.”

Acceptance Speech (featuring Janelle Monáe)

“In the modern age, a sacrifice is already made

The moment that you’ve made a choice

But, baby, the problem always chooses herself

And suddenly she has lost her voice.”

Trade You for the World

“I stood in sepia tones while you bled electric crimson

Built the motivation before I built the scene

Led the poets astray, bathed them in patient indecision

Now I sit in vignettes of truth, desire what was in between.”

Back to the Beginning

“City after city, glazed in momentary dignity,

I chased the prophecy of my becoming

And, dear god, if I could tuck my tail between my legs

I’d run us right back to the beginning.”

Could’ve Fooled Me (featuring Maisie Peters)

“And we’re dancing around each other tonight

Elevators built like confessionals

Desperate to blanket myself in transparency

I wanna say, ‘Pretty boy, you’re sensational.

We weren’t the only freaks anyhow

But how could anyone not love you then?

And how could they not love you now?’”

Eddie watched you dance and party. Vaguely answer the questions about what certain lyrics meant. Focused on the sound more than the overall meanings. Thanked everyone for giving you this celebration and how you were very grateful for this opportunity.

And, peculiarly, you were handed a new acoustic guitar, soft pink and sparkling. Your name written in calligraphy down the neck.

“Um, so since this is a special night,” you said while trying to move your white capo down to the third fret. “I wanted to play a special song that didn’t make the album. It just didn’t fit the rest of the album’s vibe, so I cut it.”

You laughed and Eddie knew he was the only one who could notice it was out of nerves. You tested the strings, making sure everything was in tune.

“But I wanted to play it for you guys if that’s okay?” Laughing again, you shook your head. “I hope everyone said yes, otherwise this would be so embarrassing.”

You leaned into the microphone, glancing up at the camera as if you were making direct eye contact with Eddie and Eddie alone.

“It’s called Questionnaire.”

The chords were simple.

C, Em, Am.

F, G, C.

It rang out soft, sweet. Albeit a bit sad.

He noticed the way you chewed on your lip before you started, finding your groove.

“Do you think about the way we live without sanctuary?

How the fates wrap their hands around our throats, cutting off our breath?

Do you think about the way we live without sanctuary?

How there’s no guarantee when it’s over there’ll be anything left?”

Eddie felt a sickness wash over him as he heard you sing directly to him. You were right. It was different from the rest of the album.

He tried to gauge how you were feeling, knowing damn well the only way he could was through the music itself. How the change in chords matched the change in your emotions.

G, Am, F.

“Oh, oh, oh.”

Am, G, F.

“Oh, oh, oh.”

The camera pulled in closer to your face, as if they knew that Eddie was watching. Waiting. Pathetically desperate to hear what you had to say to him.

“Do you wonder if there’s any chance that this was all just a dream?

But there’s no fucking way you can’t hear me calling your name.

Do you wonder if there’s any chance we could wipe ourselves clean?

But there’s no fucking way to explain the way I’ve been claimed.”

You repeated the Ohs, belting out the last set before you changed the sound completely.

New chord patterns. New set of emotions. Harsh strumming, the sound growing louder and louder as frustration filled your voice.

“Do you know the clouds darken whenever you’re away?

Convinced myself that my storm would worsen if I’d stayed.

God, I need you now to answer my revelation.

Is there any dignity in self-preservation?”

You repeated the line again, sounding angrier than before.

“Is there any dignity in self-preservation?”

The buildup faded away, the rough strumming turning light again as the chords of the verses returned. There was a small instrumental as the camera pulled out to show you on your pink throne, surrounded by the pink balloons and holographic streamers.

You were alone.

Eddie could just barely make out the tears trickling down your face as you began to strum each chord once.

“Do you think about the way we lived without sanctuary?

How we fought and you fought for me until I gave it all up?

I think about the way I live without your sanctuary.

How there’s no guarantee I’ll ever fall in love again.”

You sighed and sniffled softly before repeating it.

“How there’s no guarantee I’ll ever fall in love again.”

Despite no one being in the shot, he could hear applause coming from around the room. He could even hear Becky, Este, and Mary individually, all cheering you on.

He watched you stand, laughing off the emotions as you blotted the wetness around your eyes. “Okay, Now Stop!” started playing over the screen as people scrambled to disassemble the makeshift stage.

It occurred to Eddie then that there…had been no chorus. No hook. It was just a list of questions for him and statements for yourself. A bout of self-loathing and the guilt that he was only now starting to grasp.

And he realized that he too was crying, trying desperately to cease them with the back of his hand. And then his sleeve. And then the tissues he scrambled around the bedroom to find.

As soon as the livestream ended, Eddie pulled out his phone.

“You’re so brave for doing that,” Becky said, crushing you in a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

A broken smile met your lips. “God, everyone’s going to talk about it.”

“Let them,” Mary said with a scoff. “Who cares?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, knowing full well who you really wanted to talk about it. To hear it. To think about it.

Your phone began to vibrate in your pocket. As you pulled it out, something resembling belief in fate rushed through you.

Eddie.

You couldn’t suppress an audible gasp, taking a step back from the conversation.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” you mumbled before walking away quickly. Pressed that green button. Whispered, “Hello?”

“Oh, hey.”

His voice crawled over you in a rush of relief, an ease that had been missing for so fucking long. “Eddie, hey,” you said nervously, shocked by your own ability to say his name out loud.

“Hey, is this an okay time?”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re good. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he lied, fiddling with blanket. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the album. It’s really incredible. Your best work yet.”

“Oh, thank you, Eddie. Um, you think?”

“Hm?”

“That it’s my best work?”

“Of course it is,” he answered with a breathy chuckle. “Are you kidding me? You took your individual sound and expanded on it and made it into a high-quality concept album. And the lyrics are incredible. It’s beautiful.”

“That’s really kind of you to say. I’m really proud of it.”

“You should be.”

“Are you working on anything new?”

“Yeah, we’re actually finishing up the album now. Should be out next month if everything goes right.”

“I bet, um. I bet it’s incredible.”

Eddie’s chest tightened at your hesitation. “Each song transitions into one another. You’d think it was cool.”

“I’ll have to listen to it. If, um, if you think I should.”

Swallowing a sigh, Eddie closed his eyes and tried to focus on keeping his voice level. Keep from cracking. Keep from begging for you to come back.

“It’s only if you want to,” he replied, trying to stay neutral before moving on. “Are you doing okay? I know you get really anxious after being, like, out in the open for a while.”

“Yeah, sure I am.” He knew you were lying. “It’s just work.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay in case you weren’t,” he admitted.

“You know…” you trailed, pausing.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. “You didn’t have to call if you didn’t want to…”

“Ah, come on,” he said with a chuckle. “I wanted to call you, so I called. Promise.”

Anxiety began to wash over you as you bit the bullet.

“Is that everything you wanted to say?”

Why hasn’t your publicist confirmed the breakup?

Is this killing you like it’s killing me?

“Well, uh, I don’t know.”

Did you really mean what you said about never falling in love again?

Does that mean there’s a chance?

“What does that mean?” you asked. “I’m confused.”

Is this over?

Are we over?

“I think… I think that’s all I had to say.”

And there was the disappointment.

“Oh, okay.”

“Yeah, I hope you have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

“Oh, hey, one last thing.”

You couldn’t help that ugly surge of hope. “Yeah?”

“Remember to take care of yourself. You matter more than anyone else does.”

“Oh,” you responded, deflating. “Yeah, I’ll try, Eddie. Take care.”

“Bye.”

“Bye,” you whispered before ending the call.

There’s nothing to say once the phone call ends. No one mentioned the breakup. No one mentioned how the album he called incredible was about him. About the love. The crash and burn. How your love still glowed inside you, bright enough for him to touch if he’d just stretch his fingertips a little further.

And yet, neither of you said a thing.

And neither of you admitted to what you knew was coming in his own album.

You found yourself mute as you shuffled into the back of the black SUV and got out of the city. Left your buzzing phone next to you, knowing that Eddie wouldn’t call you again. Knowing that everything must be over now.

If this was closure, it sure didn’t feel like it.

When you walked into your house, still empty and swirling with dust, you let the grating silence whisk you towards the wine cabinet. Got yourself the shiniest glass you had, poured the cheapest bottle you found. Sat on the back porch and looked out at the moon.

If things were different, Eddie would be here right now instead of a voice in a fucking phone. His voice, a tiny shard of glass that was surely going to rip you open and never mend itself again.

He’d sit next to you with his own glass. Comment on how nice it was to just drink the cheap stuff. Roll you a celebratory joint with dried rose petals, the way you liked it. Ask if it was okay if you spent the night out here, just looking up at the moon together.

It’d been a full year since you’d met. Five months since you last spoke. And now you were starting to fold, starting to maneuver yourselves into strangers. Even if that was the last thing Eddie wanted. Even if the mere thought of never talking again made nausea pool in his stomach.

Eddie desperately wished you were looking at the moon together.

And maybe you would feel different than you did tonight. Maybe you would’ve had a perfect night with all your accomplishments and the perfect man beside you to experience it all with.

But he wasn’t there.

And you felt so alone.

So fucking alone.

Tears streamed down your face, a burning in your chest growing with each What If that you conjured.

You were not better off without him.

He knew it the moment you told him goodbye on the island. He knew it the moment he returned to California, shutting himself off from the world. He knew it the second he called you and the second he heard you say goodbye one last time.

Eddie was not better off without you.

once again thanks to the lovely @strangergraphics for making beautiful dividers for me. it is an honor!

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #Eddie Munson x female reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!Eddie x reader #rockstar!Eddie x you #modern!Eddie x you #boyfriend!Eddie x reader

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buckyarchives · 1 year

Text

Little Mermaid | Bucky Barnes

summary: a mission gone rogue, and bucky has to depend on you to save him, with the help of a few unlikely friends found in the middle of the atlanic.

8.5k words

warnings: none, bucky's self-loathing

a/n: avatar has taken over my life so now you guys get a deep sea bucky fic where he bonds with dolphins, yes. It's literally pure fluff, I'm sorry I'm weak. I AM TAKING REQUESTS BTW!!!

Read on AO3

“How long has she been in there?”

Bucky glanced down at his watch. “30 minutes, and 25 seconds.”

“You gonna get her out?” Sam scoffed, his voice echoing around the walls of the dome-like room. The water reflected on the two boys, decorating mostly bucky's faces with ripples of the water as the lights lit up the pool.

“Hmm.'' Bucky hummed. Craning his head to look down into the pool, where your blurry figure sat at the bottom. I the peaceful bliss you'd often escape to. “No, she’ll get mad.”

“We leave for the mission later, make sure to tell her to get ready once she gets out,” Sam said, bucky nodded. “She will get out soon, right?”

“Hope so."

Bucky didn't pay Sam even a glance. his eyes trained onto the waters and a slacked jaw. A sweet and blissful smile painted his face, and Sam noticed, smirking to himself.

Sam has known bucky longer, but you sure knew him better. Nonetheless, Sam knew of how impatient Bucky could be, he spent most of his days being a close-to intolerable grumpy asshole– but once it came to you. it was entirely different. Sam would catch bucky sometimes, like now, just sitting next to the pool for hours on end. just waiting like some lost puppy.

Waiting for you to come up from the water for the breath of air you so rarely needed. Only to spare Bucky a quick conversation or just a glance before diving back down. Bucky would make himself comfortable and rid of his shoes and roll up his pants to dip his feet in. but the majority of the time, he'd just watch and wait with the same love-sick smile on his face.

Yeah, love-sick. Everyone knew it, saw it, hell– felt it in the compound. The tension, the sweet glances from across the room, the way Bucky would find any excuse to follow you to bodies of water– despite his distaste for swimming or being wet. The obvious pining between the two of you, almost knew, everyone except for bucky and you. If that was even possible.

If on cue, right as Sam was about to leave. The loud swish and splash of water brought his gaze back to the pool, where you came up from under with your hair slick back and water droplets falling off your nose. Bucky's eyes didn't leave you once.

“Back to dry land, little mermaid?” Sam snarked, you laughed sweetly as you slowly swam towards the edge, right next to bucky. Bringing your arms to rest on the edge, puddles of water pool around your arms and slowly crept towards bucky. But, he didn't even think to scoot away from you.

“Very funny, bird man.” you replied back, turning your head towards bucky. “You still don't want to get in?”

Not missing a beat in the offer, after the first few weeks of noticing the super soldier hanging around the pool whilst you swam. Eventually, You'd started to offer every time he showed up, bucky always said no, but you'd never stopped asking. Apart from you maybe just wanted to share the one thing you cherished just as much as him.

But he always just sat at arm's length and watched you in your element. Bucky would never say it out loud– but it was one of his favorite things to do. Getting distracted in the ripples of the water, losing himself in the soft sound of you doing laps.

Bucky was quick to shake his head, his long brunette hair swayed with the motion. And almost innocent look on his face. “No, I'm okay. We have a mission, anyways.”

You frowned– but were not surprised, slowly pulling yourself out from the water. Dressed only in a dark blue body suit, water dripping rapidly from your limbs. “Really?”

“In 3 hours,” Bucky replied, and you audibly groaned. You wished for another hour of the stillness that lay at the bottom of the pool.

“What's the details?” you padded over to the table, grabbing a towel from the rack and drying yourself off.

Bucky watches intently, not in a creepy way. Adoration, and curiosity is how he liked to explain it. Your abilities and connection with h2o had always been a mystery to him, to everyone, except maybe director Fury. You could control water, that he knew. I mean, bucky was the one to find you washed up on some random Californian beach. Only to find out you had no memory of dry lands.

So, bucky always had half a thought to wonder why you dried yourself off with a towel, him being close to sure you could get it done with a flick of your wrist. shit, he saw you drain every last drop of it from a Hydra agent that had pissed you off.

“Me, you, Bucky, and Steve are going on a recon mission. There's an unidentified island somewhere in the Atlantic.” Sam started, “rumored to be a leftover Hydra base. You and Bucky are going in on the north end, Steve and I will be arriving on the south end.”

“Over waters?” you ask, a slight perk in your voice. Sam and Bucky nod, and you smiled. Even the closeness of your past home lit a fire inside you. Mumbling under your breath, “not so bad, I guess.”

“Yep, and we leave soon so both of you get ready.” Sam said again. Before turning around and leaving you and Bucky alone.

Wrapping the towel fully around your body, shivering from the sudden coolness of the air. Bucky awkwardly shifts on his feet, the slick floor beneath his leather boots squeaking as he attempts not to slip (because he did once and you've never let it go.)

“Don't slip.” you remind him as if you could read his mind. A smirk painted on your lips and bucky’s under his breath.

“If I do, you’re obliged to catch me.” bucky snarks back.

Your head perks up, “oh yeah? Says who?”

Bucky doesn't answer your question, and leaves the teased question unanswered just to annoy you.

“Whatever.” laughing, beaming up at bucky like he was the world. “See you in a few,” you say, walking past the semi-dazed man as bucky's eyes followed you out of the room, the loud door booms as it closes leaving him alone.

Exhaling a shaky breath, settling the fast-paced beat in his chest. His face feels warm despite the chillness of the pool room. Bucky needed to get a wrap of his emotions before this mission, the first one-on-one mission with you. Bucky likes to watch, and observe with a slight adoration in his eyes. Silence is a familiarity between you two. Bucky’s too used to stuttering around in his brain anytime he sees you, silence and short meaningless banter is better– easier.

Bucky trudged up to his room with the thought of you heavy in his head, along with the warmth you bring him.

*****

Steve and Sam had taken off approximately 40 minutes before you and bucky, you went back and forth in the hanger loading all the equipment needed. You soon realize this was the first duo mission with bucky alone, being alone with him wasn't a strange thing but, this was different.

“Take off in 10.” agents Hill reminds you, “this mission shouldn’t be long, we just need you two to check all security and activity on the north side and get out. No jumping to take any risks.'' Maria eyed Bucky, earning a grumble and eye roll at the obvious poke at his reckless behavior involving Hydra assignments. You can understand why.

Bucky headed up the hanger, you went to follow but just before you could, Maria grabbed onto your shoulder. “I’m serious, Y/N. keep him off the ledge, no fighting unless absolutely necessary.”

Nodding, and sending her a reassuring smile. “If he needs someone to keep him out of his head, why not send Steve?” you ask honestly, eyes glancing back towards bucky as he got the jet ready for take off.

“Believe it or not, I think bucky trusts your opinion more than Steve’s nowadays.'' Maria finished, walking off before you could question the meaning of what she said, exactly. Your eyebrows knotted, turning back to the man adjusting his seat at the nose of the jet.

Surely that couldn't be true? You and bucky were close friends, best friends even. But you've only known him for, what? Like seven, or eight months? Steve’s known him his entire life, grew up with him, and shared memories with bucky from before his life went to shit.

A part of you always thought Bucky only lingered around you because he was the one to find you, like it was an insensible responsibility he held above himself. Because he always held himself responsible for things out of his control, too hard on himself. And you were just there, you were the outsider just like him. You valued your friendship and respected him but you've always assumed part of it was just out of pity.

Heading up the hanger and letting it close behind you, the soft sound of the engines starting up as you strapped into the co-pilot's seat. Bucky was always much better at flying these than you. Your eyes glance over to him awkwardly a few times, settling into your seat as lift-off begins, bracing through the small turbulence before you were flying gently in the sky.

“ETA should be about 30 minutes.” bucky said, hands steady on the gears. You nodded in response.

“What do you think will be there?” you ask curiously, mostly to just fill the silence.

Bucky hummed, his icy blue eyes glancing at you. The ones that never fail to leave you breathless, even from the very beginning. “Zero ideas, I hope nothing.”

“Agreed.” you nodded. Bucky's eyes didn’t leave you, and you met him quickly.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words got lost on your tongue and you, as well, got lost in his gaze.

Seemingly, always having a habit of doing so, from the moment bucky found you on that beach, half alive. The first thing you saw as you opened your eyes was those deep blue eyes that reminded you too much of the only place you've known. From an instant finding comfort in bucky, in his Atlantic blue irises.

As bucky got distracted in your gaze, both of you did. Seconds or minutes could have passed, and the loud noise of fire coming towards you muffled out. That was until it hit you, literally, the loud boom and shake startling you and bringing you both back down to reality.

An instant panic sets in as bucky tried to get control over the jet, the engines are down, GPS is lost and you were declining rapidly. but the shots didn't stop and you were both helplessly freefalling inside the coup.

“Under the seat! The parachutes.” bucky shouted as he desperately tried at the gears. Quickly, turning around to look but it came up empty. You checked your surrounding in a frenzy, every place you think, unable to keep yourself steady as you began ascending towards the water.

You must have tripped as you went for a storage container in search of the parachutes because you fell into warm arms before you could hit your head. Looking towards Bucky as he held you, an obvious set of panicked eyes staring down at you.

“There's none.”

Bucky’s eyebrows knotted, settling you on your feet in front of him. Hands still settling onto your shoulder to keep you steady. “What? What do you mean there's none?”

“There are no parachutes, I checked everywhere,” you yelled over the loud sound of systems beeping as they failed, and your mind as it scattered for a plan B.

“What the fuck!” bucky yelled out of frustration.

Another boom and shake, and you were on the ground. Bucky followed with as he ducked, his arms still wrapped around you, even tighter now. Another shot was fired at you and it was clear whoever was behind the fire really wanted you out of the sky. As the shots hit the sides sliding doors. Bucky held onto you so as not to fall, but that gave you an even better idea.

“Do you trust me?” you shouted, eyes glancing towards the familiar comfort of waters.

“What?”

“Do you trust me?” you shout again, making sure to maintain eye contact as you spoke. Bucky let out a heavy exhale, nodding slowly. His brunette hair whipped around as the harsh winds took over.

“Is this going to be reckless?” bucky asked you, even though he was almost certain of your answer.

You didn’t respond, only grabbed harshly at bucky's hand and dragged him towards the edge. Visible fear showed on bucky’s face, reminding you of how he even got to where he was now.

Bucky wasn't going to lie and say being faced with falling dozens of feet, unsure of survival– didn’t scare the sit out of him. Trying to shake the flashes of the water turning into the snowing alps as he stared down, trying to settle his panic.

A warmth took over him suddenly, as you snuck your hand into his, hoping to comfort him. it did. “Hey, bucky. Just look at me, I promise we’ll be okay. Just trust me.”

Hesitantly, Bucky nodded and kept his eyes on you. Gulping down his nerves as you counted down in your head, cursing to yourself because you were supposed to keep him off the ledge, and here you were– ready to jump off it and dragging him down with you.

“Take a deep breath,” you shouted before harshly grabbing him and hurling both of you over and into a free fall into the water.

Bucky's grasp got tighter around you, and yours around him just before the harsh impact of the ocean submerged you both. The familiar feeling of it filling your lungs and surrounding your body, the dark blue depths– the bliss and peace of it all.

Glancing down at the man in your arms, realizing bucky had gone unconscious.

You really regret not teaching him how to swim like you now.

*****

The gentle whispers of waves filled bucky’s ears, his eyes slowly fluttering open as he took in the bright surroundings. A fresh, salty air filled his nose as he breathed– he could practically taste it on his tongue. bucky's head pounded and made him dizzy. The uncomfortable feeling of wet clothing sticking to his skin makes him cringe, slowly rising his head. Bucky noticed your familiar figure in his line of sight.

“What- what? Where are we?” his lungs and throat burned as he spoke, feeling raw as if he had spent the past hours yelling his lungs out. A feeling all too familiar. Slowly, coming to his senses and he noticed the pure amount of blue that filled his surroundings. “Are we–”

“We’re okay, don’t panic,” you reassured him, noticing your wet hair (as it usually is) and that you were stripped of your tactical suit and now only dressed in a full-body wet suit.

Bucky whipped around, feeling the hard surface under him– what looked like to be rocks? In the middle of the ocean? “Where are we?” looking up to only see water, for miles and miles. Seemingly no land in sight besides whatever he and you reside on now.

“We’re on charlie,” you explain simply, sitting across from him.

“What–” bucky’s words are interrupted by the sudden spray of water in front of his face, getting him all wet again. Shouting as he scrambles away from the blow hole, he screaked. “What the fuck!”

You laugh at bucky, with an aggressive confusion playing out on his face, eyes bulging from his head, as he suddenly realizes what he's on– who he's on. The faint sight of a fin the size of a truck waving through the waters. Bucky begins scattered around in a panic. You noticed, and an exaggerated sigh leaves your lips.

“This is Charlie, he's a blue whale,” you state like it makes any goddamn sense to bucky. “He's my friend.”

“And when were you going to tell me you were friends with a goddamn whale?” bucky asks, still taking in the scary yet– incredible, once-in-a-lifetime sight. Bucky can confidently say he's seen and experienced way too many ‘once in a lifetime’ things, but his history says none of them have been good, or at least resulted in good things. But this, he sat on top of a blue whale in the middle of god knows where sea. Bucky couldn’t comprehend it.

You shrug. “It never came up.”

Scoffing, “it never came up.” bucky mocks you, but with no ill intent. his eyes still darting around the whale's back that you both sat on. The water rose up and down, meeting his legs. Bucky's eyes meet yours again, in comparison to bucky you seemed the calmest person in the world. “Seriously, where are we?”

“Uh.” you inhale, looking around at the vast blue like you'd see any indication of where you were. “Definitely northern Atlantic since that's where we fell. I'd say a couple of miles east of the mid Atlantic ridge. I have backup coming soon to figure out.”

Bucky's head tilts. “You got comms out here?”

In the middle of the Atlantic, on a blue whale after you, both doze into the water. Your coms would have gotta damaged in the fall, and if they did still work– there's no way that wherever you two were it would reach anyone.

“Not that kind of backup”

“Please don't tell me you have an orca whale coming to pick us up.” bucky deadpans, what would be a joke but now he's unsure of everything you can do.

The whale below him lets water out of his blow whole again, almost sounding offended, if that's even possible

A mischievous grin grows slowly as you look at bucky, you mumble quietly “no, they're dolphins”

“Dolphins?”

“Hey!” you try to defend yourself, with bucky narrowing his eyes at you. Either disbelief or genuine shock on his face, maybe both, you couldn't tell. “They'll get us to land and then we can call for real backup and make sure Sam and Steve are okay.”

Bucky blinks once, twice, maybe a third time. Almost in a daze, because how the fuck does he end up in this situation unless he’s died and gone to some weird afterlife. Like his crush is going to make him ride dolphins into the afterlife, and if it wasn't for the uncomfortable feeling of his thick clothes and body armor weighing him down. Or the harsh sun beating down on his neck, he'd be convinced.

Under his breath, he mumbled just loud enough for you to hear. “Fucking little mermaid.”

You giggled at the comment. Sometimes Bucky wonders if you are a siren, because every noise you make sounds like music to his ears, slowly pulling him closer towards you. Bucky shifts uncomfortably as your eyes trail up his body, “are you wearing anything that has any grave importance to you?”

Bucky looks down at his attire, a soaked black leather jacket provided by shield. Kevlar, body armor, and cargo pants full of weapons. “Not really, why?”

“I'm sure it weighing you down.” you say, “I’d recommend taking it off, especially when the dolphins come.”

Buckys pretends that sentence doesn't sound absurd, and hesitantly agrees. Slowly beginning to remove his jacket and vest. “Where’d you get the wetsuit, anyways? Did a squid let you borrow his.” bucky jokes, and you smile fondly. Bucky always liked that he could make you smile and light up so easily. Pride never ceases to spread through his chest.

“I wore it under my uniform, just in case.” your fingers run over the dark blue fabric, “glad i did.”

“Wish you would have given me the memo.” Bucky comments, slowly peeling the fabric that stuck to his skin, and attempting to rip off the vest but he begins to physically struggle. Considering the weird position he's in; bucky's sure that Charlie the whale doesn't enjoy having a 6-foot-something super soldier standing up on his back. But Bucky always felt heavier and much more of a burden than he actually was.

You notice him struggling. “Buck, here, let me help.” you slowly scoot over towards bucky. Your surprisingly warm hand reaches his back to undo the zippers and velcro. A shiver goes down his back, hoping you don't notice the abrupt twitch of his neck when you touch him.

You were one of the few people that walk this earth that bucky would even think to let so close to him, your presence always felt familiar, comfortable to him. You being so close just felt natural. Yet, it didn't subdue the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach or the way heat would rise to his face and tint his ears pink.

“How long was I out?” Bucky asks.

“Around 5 hours.” bucky audibly winches at the answer, “I kept you above water before I found charlie. Couldn't have you drowning on me.”

“right.”

“Why do you always call me that by the way?” you ask innocently, you had finished taking off bucky's outer layer of clothing. Leaving him in just a sleeveless tank top, showing off his vibranium arm as the sun highlights it making it shimmer. But bucky doesn't turn around and your hands don’t leave his body.

No– your hands tangle in his hair as you pull back the wet strands that stuck to his forehead and neck. Beginning to pull his hair into a small bun, similar to the one he wore in Wakanda when it began to grow too long for bucky to handle.

“What do you mean?”

“You always call me little mermaid, Sam too,” you explain and bucky's lips quirk up slightly in amusement.

“You know, ariel? You've never seen that Disney movie about the mermaid who gives her voice for legs so she can live on land with prince eric?” bucky summarizes the classic Disney movie, kindly leaving out the fact that Sam made him sit down for 2 days straight to catch up on every Disney princess movie

“No, I have not. And I’m not a mermaid.” you wiggle your feet and knees to make a point, bucky eyes crinkled in adoration at your gesture. “See, I have legs.”

“I thought you were one when we first met, you know.” bucky says without a thought, a sudden calmness carries over his body as your hands are still playing with his hair, the soft sound of the ocean whispering. Everything around him seems so still, so quiet and peaceful.

“What?”

“When I saw you washed up on that beach,” bucky explain. “your hair was a wild mess and you had no clothes besides some seaweed wrapped around your body. Despite everything and the circumstance, I thought you looked so beautiful that you couldn't possibly be human. Sam had bets you were a siren”

Before bucky can even stop himself from rattling on, telling you his vulnerable and real thoughts of your first meeting. It's like his brain and mouth couldn't contain this confession, and when he tells you, your hands stop working at his hair and he picks up the slight hitch in your voice as you freeze. You go quiet and bucky suddenly realizes he might have fucked this all up, and the calmness of the ocean can’t stop the sudden anxiety that makes him shake.

Bucky’s scared to face you– can’t turn around, but he has to see your reaction. Just so he knows whether or not to expect you to leave him on the back of a whale in the middle of the Atlantic. Slowly, he does.

“You think I'm beautiful?” was the first thing that came out of your mouth when bucky sees you. Your voice is full of sincere curiosity and wide eyes. Your face feels warm.

Reluctantly, bucky nods. His mouth feels dry as he speaks. “Yeah.”

You smile, an ease spreads through bucky's body and the calm comes back to him.

“You don't look too bad yourself, sarge.” you say, a tease to your voice that makes bucky dizzy. Struggling to bite back the smile on his face.

Before either of you can speak another word, the high-pitched squeal of 3 dolphins jumping and swimming towards you. The water ripples around them, and what bucky can only describe as screaming in delight as they come to greet you.

Your hand dips down in the water with the most gentle and soft touch he's ever seen as you rub their heads. You listen and watch intently as they began to squeal, grunt, and creak. Bucky scoots closer to you and the dolphins as you begin to nod in a sense of understanding.

“They should get us to the shore of Portugal by 2 or 3 am, which is a long ride if you're okay with that.” you turn to bucky to tell him the plan.

“Not like we have a whole lot of options, doll.” bucky scoffs, looking around at his surroundings. “-Wait, can you understand them?”

“Yes,” you turn your attention back to the three dolphins fighting for your affection like little children, bucky finds it weirdly endearing. “Every animal in the ocean has their own unique language. I cannot mimic most of theirs, but you'd be surprised how many sea creatures understand English or other languages. They are a lot smarter than humans”

Bucky can only stare at you in udder astonishment. You– this gorgeous being you seem to be able to do it all, your kindness and caring as taken you a long way in life that bucky will never understand. And here you are before him, communicating with animals and treating them as if they're your family.

One of the dolphins leaves your attention and maneuvers its way toward Bucky, her head pops out of the water, and looks at him. You watch bucky intently as he hesitates to put his hand near her. Looking towards you for reassurance.

“Go on, she won't bite.” you encourage him. Bucky could never disobey you when you look at him like that. So earnest. So patient.

His hand grazes against her head softly, keeping his movement slow so as to not scare off the creature. Bucky’s so used to being feared and everyone flinching in his presence, it’s until the dolphin squeals in delight he realizes these animals don’t know him like the rest of the world. Only judging based on how they perceive him now, you've always said animals are the best judgment of people.

“She likes you,” you say simply. Bucky looks up towards you, in awe, to see your eyes already on him. Slowly, warmth grows to each of your faces as you shy away at the eye contact. “I'm assuming you don't know how to ride a dolphin, and I don't have time to teach you. So you'll ride with me.”

You begin to maneuver yourself into the water, practically diving in if Bucky could think straight at this moment. You disappear for a moment, which leaves Bucky feeling way too alone and vulnerable in the vast openness of the ocean. Knowing there were miles and miles under him of things he'd never seen before, possible threats, and obviously possible allies as he looks at the dolphins in front of him.

Makes Bucky realize how much safety and pure comfort he confides in you. That scares him more than anything, but also makes him feel lighter in the chest. Make his heart beat a little quicker.

Slowly, you arise from the water with your hair all wet again and slick back. You've now planted yourself onto one of the dolphin's backs, gesturing towards the small spot behind you. Assuming it was for him.

Bucky recoils slightly, not out of fear or disgust. He is just hesitant, everything is so crazy and new to him and he's still grasping the fact you have befriended a whale. So wrapped up in his own head he misses the way your face drops, looking down. Insecurity grew through your body.

“You think I'm crazy.” you ask, but it comes out more as a statement, and bucky's brain scrambles to correct you.

“What? No! No– never, I'd never think that of you. Never, y/n.” bucky rattles on, shaking his head. “This is just– so new and scary to me.”

You exhale, “sorry.” you force out a smile, and slide off the dolphin and swim towards him. beginning to walk through what bucky needs to do. “Just get in the water, it's okay– no harm. And she’ll go under you and just lift you, simple and easy. You can do it, promise.”

“Okay,” bucky breathes out shakily. Getting absolutely lost in your gentle encouragement from you, lighting a fire in bucky that makes him feel a little more sure of himself. Yet, still, Bucky hesitates as he slowly lowers himself off the whale and settles himself in the surprisingly warm water. Bucky looks up and sees that he needs to hurry as the sun starts to go down.

“Woah!” Bucky is taken aback when the animal maneuvers herself between bucky’s legs and lifts him up, almost losing his balance as he leans back. Quickly attempting to balance himself on her fin, your hand latches onto his thigh in some sort of assistance. It only makes bucky feel dizzier.

“Good job.” you beam up at him and, bucky warms at the praise, “scoot back a bit, please.”

Bucky obeys and you swiftly lift yourself and settle between his thighs. Bucky’s sure his face is beet red now, with you settling in between him and your back to his chest. His brain practically turns to mush as he has to bring himself back down to earth from the abrupt closeness.

“You sure she can handle both of our weights for that long.” bucky asks, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice.

“Don't like this?” you ask, a vague question, but bucky understands what you mean. “I can-”

“No! No, I'm okay!” no, he's definitely not.

You laugh lightheartedly and bucky swears he must be dead, he can't see your face but he can picture your bright smile and the way your eyes crinkle up at the sides. “Yes, you would be surprised by how strong they are for their size.”

Bucky hums in response, suddenly he's unsure of where to put his hands. Settling on resting them on his thighs, but he's gravely unbalanced like this– especially if he’ll be moving in the water.

“Uh.” your body tenses slightly, “you can– um, just put your arms around me, okay? we’ll be going quite fast and I really don't want to lose you, so get a good grip.”

Hesitantly, bucky wraps his arms securely around your waist. Tight. Your back pressed against his chest, even closer now.

“yeah, like that…” your voice is quiet now, sounding almost flustered.

Your face begins to grow hot, and the tips of your ears turn red. Adjusting yourself, trying not to squirm too much while you sat between bucky's legs. Your more than sure the dolphins can feel the weird sexual tension between the two of you, god– bucky can practically taste it by how strong it is in the air. “Hold on, tight though. I’m serious, if you fall it's your own fault.”

Bucky laughs at the snark in your voice, while knowing you are fully fucking serious. His grip tightens and you attempt to hide the hitch in your breath when he does.

The dolphin begins to swim, speeding away from the whale with her two buddies by her side. Bucky's head turns slightly to see the whale starting to lower itself back into the deep ocean. Utterly astonished by the sight, he must be in a dream.

“You okay?” you check up on bucky. the dolphins bob up and down in the water, conscious of the fact bucky was riding and could not, in fact, breathe under water like you. bucky watched in awe at the ripples of waves behind him. it's so rawly beautiful.

“Yeah, very okay.” bucky replies in an almost dazed sight. You grin in pride. “This is quite therapeutic, actually. Why haven't we done this before.”

The familiar sweet laughter fills bucky’s ears, “I don't know, I'll make time in my schedule to do this later with you.”

Later. With you.

Bucky beams at the statement, excited that there will be a later, and you with him. God– he could shout out in joy. And bucky begins to understand why you spend most of your time at the bottom of the compound pools, or excusing yourself on your free weekends to the coastlines. The pure calm and peace he feels in his body make him dizzy, and it's not all because of you. Bucky feels weightless and an ease he hasn't felt since his childhood. Out here his history is unknown and he is nothing except who he is now, which according to the dolphins. Is a good man.

Bucky feels like a good man for the first time in decades. Out here, just with you.

The slight breeze blows through his damp hair, the warmth radiates off your body. Bucky sees nothing but blue for miles and miles until it meets the horizon and he can still taste the saltiness in the air.

Bucky doesn't remember beginning to slack against your body, dropping his head on your shoulder. He doesn't remember the weight of his eyelids, just for them to eventually close and bucky sure doesn't remember falling asleep, pressed close to your body as he glides through the Atlantic.

But he awakes and the night sky had turned to dark, slowly fluttering his eyes up and rising his head away from the crook of your neck.

Bucky also realizes this is the most he's slept with no nightmares or memories of the soldier plaguing his mind, no– he woke up peacefully. No jolting awake with a dry throat from screaming and muttering Russian phrases under his breath. He wasn't coated with his own sweat from panicking, just the salt water.

He woke up with you in his arms.

“You awake, sleepyhead?” you say, and bucky begins to regain all his senses when he shakes the sleepiness from his body. His arms were still securely wrapped around your waist, and bucky would be dammed if he ever tried to let go.

“I didn't mean to fall asleep.” he says honestly, “sorry.”

“Don't apologize, you slept through most of the ride. We should be close enough to the shoreline soon.” you say, “though you missed some very confused crew ship members.”

“That going to be a problem?” bucky laughs to himself at the thought of a ship full of workers looking down to see a pack of dolphins, only to find two agents sailing across the Atlantic on their backs.

“No.” you laugh. “You snore in your sleep by the way.”

“Shit– I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize.“ you repeat again, “I'm just glad you're getting some good sleep, and your snores are kinda cute.”

“Shut up.” bucky replies, flustered. But secretly he was glad he’d slept peacefully, with you.

“Hey,” you quietly call to his attention, bucky’s head perks up and he hums in acknowledgment. “Look at the sky, the best view in the world.”

Bucky's head tilts up and his breath gets caught in his throat.

The sky was decorated with the brightest array of stars, shining down on them and lighting up the midnight sky. Bucky can notice a few of the constellations that painted the dark sky. It's one of the most beautiful sights he’s seen in his life and it leaves him breathless.

And then he looks back down at you and can't help be choke up a little.

“Thank you,” Bucky says like it's the easiest thing in the world.

Your eyebrows furrow, your hands still wrapped around the fin in front of you, leaning forward slightly. “Why are you thanking me?”

“I don’t know.” bucky replies honestly. Despite the circumstance, it's easy to ignore them because of the fact he's seen beautiful things today. Felt things he'd never even known of, and all because of you. “I just– I feel good, you make me feel good. You always have, but now, I've never felt like this before, so free and secure.”

Your place one hand on his, gently squeezing it. Bucky wishes he could see the giddy smile on your face as you grow flustered at his words. “I’m happy I make you feel like that, and you make me feel good too. Since the day I met you, I think I found a sense of unexplainable comfort in you.”

Neither you nor Bucky has ever felt this vulnerable with each other, but it's hard to feel any sense of burden out here. Hell– Bucky would learn to live out here and run (or swim, I guess) away with you forever if he could continue to feel like this for the rest of his life.

Bucky also realizes Ariel was a fool for giving that up for a silly prince.

“So, I have a question. Can I ask you a question?” bucky speaks.

“Shoot.”

“You've never been very clear on your, um, abilities.” he starts, “I always thought you could just manipulate water, but it seems to be much more now. So what is it?”

You hum, thinking to yourself. “I don't know, honestly. I can't remember anything except the sea. I know the water was there for me as it always has been, the way of the water is there for us before birth and long after death. It takes, and it gives whatever it wants. It's the most powerful thing on earth and it's all I've known. The ways took a liking to me, it claimed me and it's very protective. I can't control water per se, it just listens to me– obeys most of the time.”

“So you don't remember anything of your life before, did you even have one?” bucky asks sincerely. Genuinely astonished by the information he was receiving, realizing how powerful of a person you were.

Bucky can understand why the water chose you. Considering everything, you were the kindest, most sincere, and most caring person he's met. You have an effect on everyone you've interacted with, you're headstrong and slightly stubborn. But forgiving and understanding, something too forgiving in Bucky's opinion. Always there for him, from the very beginning and even after you began to learn of his past

“I don't think so, but I don't remember being fully conscious when I was in the water. Like a baby in a mother's stomach, and it's like I woke up when I washed up on that beach.”

“I'm sure it was scary,” bucky comments.

You laugh, “very. But you were there, and I always felt a weird pull toward you. Like I'd be safe with you.”

Bucky's breath hitched for the millionth time now, he's lost count. Something– a confession of sorts, a tell of his feelings are on the tip of his tongue. He opens his mouth to speak but it is quickly cut off by the shrill of the dolphins. He looks up and Bucky can barely tell in the dark, but the shores of Portugal stood in front of them. An open, empty beach.

“We’re gonna have to swim from here,” you say. the dolphins begin to slow and the water piles near his legs, rising up to Bucky's waist. “That okay?”

You earn a hum in response, and slowly the dolphin comes to a full stop and floats for a moment. You swiftly maneuver yourself out of bucky's grasp, out of between his thighs, and into the water. Bucky feels entirely too empty and cold, without you're heat and touch– bucky's body feels wrong.

“Come on.” you whisper, “follow me, okay?”

Nodding, Bucky manuvers off the dolphin and drops himself fully into the water. You begin the spew out a plethora of ‘thank yous’ and ‘see you soon’ to the now lone dolphin, she squeaks in joy when you rub her nose and head. Bucky can't help but watch, lovesickness dripping from his face. Before tailing it and leaving you and bucky alone in the water, his boots touch the sand beneath him, the water stopping at his shoulders.

Your hands grab at bucky’s, and suddenly the warmth spread through him again. He grins subconsciously and pulls himself closer to you as you both make your way toward the shore.

Bucky wished for anything more than the bliss calm of the ocean to be ripped from him, these quiet moments where it's just you and him. But he needs to call in, make sure Sam and Steve are okay, and let everyone know that you and he are, in fact, alive.

The feeling of stepping on dry sand comes, and water drips rapidly from both of you as you step out of the crashing waves. A few straggled seaweed dragged from both of your feet, looking like fish out of water. Bucky's partially thankful for the fact it's night and the seemingly touristy beaches are empty, he's unsure of how people would reach seeing you two arise from the water. He can imagine it would be pretty scary.

“There's a 24-hour convenience store down the road, we’ll call in from there,” you explain, bucky nods. He begins to feel the weight and burdens settle low in his stomach and high on his shoulders again. Unaware of the fact his hand was still tucked securely in yours, at least that gave him some sense of comfort as you practically dragged him towards the corner store.

“You think Sam and Steve are okay?” Bucky is afraid to ask, afraid that if he even speaks of their well-being out loud, his horrible suspicions would come true. They didn't have a girl that could beckon for whales and dolphins as bucky did.

You squeeze bucky's hand, bringing him back down from losing himself in his head of worries. “Yeah, Charlie asked the others in the area if there’d been any plane crashes beside us. None of them heard or saw anything, so that's a good sign.”

Bucky can't hold back the chuckle in his throat, you step falter to look up at him. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.'' Bucky shakes his head, full of adoration as he looks at you, but doesn't leave. “You're just– you're amazing.”

“I try.” you begin to step forward again but bucky tugs you back to your place, a surge of happiness and confidence rushing through his veins.

“No,” he states, and you stop in front of him. Your bodies and faces are incredibly close now. So close bucky can practically feel you're breath on his chin on this cool Portuguese night. “I mean it, you are amazing.”

Bucky states like it’s a fact– and to him, it is. He’s never been so sure of anything in his whole overextended, fucked up life.

You grow flustered at his reassurance, beaming at his validation. Bucky's hand burns in yours, a good burn. One you couldn't– wouldn’t pull away from if you had to. You're sure Bucky's super soldier hearing can pick up your heart racing as he brings his free hand to your face. Gently cradling your cheek in his palm, you lean into it.

“I'm not good with words, doll.” bucky breathes out, like a confession. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod almost instantly, “please,”

Bucky obeys, he was never able to say no to you anyways. Pulling you in so incredibly close and slanting his lips against yours. He can taste the salt on your lips, feeling the entire weight of the ocean in your touch. Bucky feels the calm and stillness of the water as he moves against you, your noses touching. Bucky feels breathless like he might drown. He begins to contemplate if you really are a siren.

Your lips are softer than bucky imagined, he wasn't going to lie to himself and say he's never thought about doing this. The amount of times proximity has been forced upon you two and bucky’s almost thrown out everything and just leaned into your touch. Bucky imagined you’d be a good kisser, but now it's real and it's happening.

The sweet kiss doesn't last too long, they are still two agents on a mission. Bucky pulls away at a painfully slow pace, leaving you to chase after his touch. You two stand breathless, damp, and a little sandy in the middle of a Portugal street. And you realize you wouldn't want it any other way.

Gulping down your nerves, and swiping your tongue across your lips. A nervous smile painted your face, “let's go, we should really call in.”

“Yeah.” bucky repeats, still in a half daze as you two continue towards the only lit store near.

Bells jingle above as bucky swings open the glass door, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights. Looking towards the counter as a sleepy man hunches over, reading the newspaper. His head perks up toward the two of you, looking at you two as if you grew a second head.

The man speaks up in Portuguese, something you don't understand, but bucky does. Hydra put as many languages in his head as they could, anything for a mission to go smoothly. Walking towards the counter with a squeak in his step as bucky began to ask for a phone.

Grumbling under his breath as the man waddles around in the back, pulling out a flip phone and handing it to bucky as he began to type in the digits. On the other line, “hello, this is Blanca bakery, how may we serve you?” a woman's voice speaks through.

“Baklava” bucky mutters the code word, as the line quiets and clicks to a new one. Tapping his foot impatiently as brown noise plays from the end before it goes silent again.

“Name.” an agent speaks plainly.

Bucky clears his throat, stiffening his back like he would when speaking to someone of authority. “Agent 39, agent 104. James Barnes and y/n”

The line quiets again, and soon a very angry and concerned Maria Hill enters the line. “James, what the hell happened? Are you two okay?”

“We’re alive, I don't have time to explain it over the phone.” bucky starts, glancing towards you as you shift in your spot. “Did Steve and Sam make it?”

“They're okay and back at the compound, I traced the phone, I’m not even going to ask how you got to Portugal.” Maria sighs, “the jets will be out to your location soon, ETA 40 minutes.”

Bucky replies quickly and the line falls silent again. Handing the phone back to the man, he grumbles something under his breath in Portuguese and bucky nods his head in thanks. Turning back to you, taking you hand in hand with no thought, bucky begins to drag you out of the store.

“40 minutes, the beach,” he says, vaguely, but you know what it means. Squeezing his hand gently as he leads you back down to the sand. Not missing the small grin on his face when you do so.

It doesn't take long for you to settle next to Bucky on some random washed-up log, your thighs lining against each other, warming each of you enough. Your head drops on bucky’s shoulder, he relaxes under your touch.

You hum as you grab at bucky's hand, uncurling his finger and setting something in his palm. Bucky looks down in confusion, “what?”

His eyes widen at the sight of the large, shiny pearl in his palm. The moonlight reflected off the milky color, making it shine slightly. It's from you– the ocean, it looks like it belongs in an expensive jewelry shop, a museum, anywhere but bucky’s hand. You smack your lips, “think of it as an offering.”

“Why?” Bucky rolls the pearl around his hand, staring in awe before turning to you.

Your finger nudges at the pearl, feeling it under your skin as you lean closer to bucky’s warmth. “Pearls represent everlasting love, before birth and after death. They represent that fact of the water. I think you deserve that.”

The soft breeze lifts bucky's hair, sending a chill down his spine. His mind sputters for a response as he looks at you, in a daze. Instead, he trades words for a small kiss at the crown of your head. You soak up his touch.

“Thank you.” bucky settles on, “you deserve that too, I hope I can give that to you.”

You beam up at him, before settling close against him again. Letting yourself begin to drift off into sleep on his shoulder with the heavy knowledge of bucky's confession in your head. You're smiling when you fall asleep.

Bucky breaths softly, the calm still present deep in him. Because somehow you've drowned bucky without him realizing it, and he's more than happy to sink deeper as long as he’s with you. You– his calm, his anchor, his pearl, his ocean, his everything. The one who saw him for nothing except the good man he's trying to desperately to be, for you. And the one who constantly proves it to him, showing he is capable of love and all things good. Capable of being himself and at ease, even if it only lies in the middle of the Atlantic on the back of a blue whale. As long as he had you, Bucky would feel that again, feel okay.

As he waited for the jet, he continued to roll the precious pearl around in his hand. Losing himself in the soft sounds of your breath mixed with the peaceful sound of waves crashing against the sand, the taste of your lips and the salty water linger in his mouth.

Bucky knows and understands, that for the first time in 70 years, he’ll be okay.

#bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan #seb stan

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honey-beann · 6 months

Text

I'd Burn Every Soul I Knew (If I Thought the Fire Was Warming You)

rk boys (Nines, Connor, Sixty) x Reader

Chapter "One" - In Medias Res

Word Count: 3,169

Welcome to the first part of my new series, the title of which is listed above (and is also a quote from an unreleased Hozier song lol).

This series will be all three rks x reader, except unlike a normal series, we'll be starting things off randomly from the middle! As the series goes on, we'll go both backward and forward in time to give exposition and make sure there's clarification in various parts! I'm super excited for this, since I've never done anything like it before, and I hope you all enjoy!

Note: For some initial context, know that the boys were never detective androids in this universe, but were rather created for another purpose entirely :)

"We shouldn't leave her alone right now, but she needs to get cleaned off and warmed up, so do you want to stay out here with her, or go draw a bath?"

You could hear Connor's voice distantly, as if he were underwater or several rooms away, and the thought made you scowl, the idea of being any closer to alone than you already were instantly causing your anxiety to spike.

Damn, you really had gotten too used to having them all around.

In front of you, you could scarcely see a thing despite your eyes being open, your vision unfocused and blurry as you tried not to look too closely at either of the men in front of you. You had no interest in taking note of just how blue their usually white shirts were the way you had on the car ride back to your apartment.

"A bath? Have you been paying any attention to her since we got back? She's half delirious, you're basically asking her to pass out and drown in there if she takes one now."

Sixty's voice sounded even further away than Connor's, and you buried your head in your hands at the sound, a persistent and gnawing reminder of the one voice you hadn't heard.

"She needs a bath, Sixty. Put her in a shower and she could end up falling over, which is a far more likely outcome with her in the state she is now."

You heard Sixty scoff in response before footsteps that you felt more than you heard faded away as he presumably made his way towards the bathroom.

Connor on the other hand, walked towards you so gently that you scarcely would have noticed him if it weren't for the way he said your name, quietly and with caution, as if afraid you would shatter at the sound.

You shook your head indignantly, not wanting to look up and see all of the blue blood that had gotten on him earlier, desperate to escape to a reality where none of this was happening.

Connor sighed, his hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder as he spoke,

"I changed already, you don't have to hide."

He murmured, his tone ever so slightly amused but mostly just cajoling as he tried to persuade you to see the truth of his words for yourself.

Slowly, as if the speed of your actions might change the outcome, you lowered your hands from your face, slowly allowing your eyes to glance over the room a few times before finally coming to rest on Connor, who was giving you what you imagined was supposed to be a supportive smile, that just so happened to look much more like concern.

You sighed shakily, murmuring a gentle thanks in response to his thoughtfulness regarding his bloodied clothes. You hadn't expected to be so upset by them, but then again, you'd never expected to see them at all, much less on your androids, and far less from them.

It was a staggering experience to see that they truly weren't invincible. You wished you'd never had to find out at all. At least not the hard way, not like this.

Connor hummed in response to your soft words, reaching down wordlessly to tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling the white button up out of your dress slacks with ease before he raised a questioning brow, asking without words if he could keep going.

You nodded.

It would be far from the first time Connor had seen you mostly or even entirely naked, in fact, they all had at this point, having taken care of you for so long.

You were better now, less weathered by pain and illness thanks to their lingering support, but you couldn't help but almost wish the suffering back to take away the dull ache of fear and uncertainty in your chest.

You had only just finished questioning whether or not the constant discomfort would truly have been worth it when you realized that Connor had removed all but your undergarments from you, folding your stained clothes over his forearm before he took a silent step towards the laundry room just down the hall.

"Don't."

You said, your voice quiet but stern, causing the android in question to halt all movement almost instantly. He turned to face you soon after, his head tilted slightly but his expression one of patience, as if he were willing to wait all day to find out what you were thinking.

You sighed shakily,

"I want you to burn them."

You said, watching as Connor's brow rose before he looked down to the clothing in his hand, clearly not understanding.

You elaborated.

"I don't want to see them again, I couldn't bear to be reminded of..."

You trailed off, but Connor took the opportunity to nod in understanding regardless, placing the clothes on a nearby breakfast bar stool before he approached once more.

"Okay, if that's what you want then I can do it while you're resting later in the evening."

He reasoned, not giving you any time to argue about details before he switched topics entirely.

"Sixty just notified me that your bath is ready. Is there anything you want to bring in with you?"

He asked gently, and you shook your head, far too eager to have the remnants of today washed from your body to care about your comfort.

When you entered the bathroom, Sixty was waiting for you, his hand skimming across the top of the water as he checked the temperature to make sure it was the way you liked it.

"It should be between 99 and 102."

Connor stated matter of factly, causing Sixty to hum dismissively in response.

"I know."

His gaze shifted up from the water's surface to where you were standing.

"Any better?"

He asked, his words brief but their meaning heavy, as per usual when it came to him.

You shook your head silently in response, reaching your hands backward to unclasp your bra as you did so.

Suddenly, without warning, Connor's LED lit up a bright yellow, and he straightened up a bit, brow raised, before making eye contact with Sixty, his tone calm despite how obviously little he enjoyed saying what he was about to say.

"They want someone to come down and answer some questions about Nines. Can you stay with her?"

Sixty seemed to falter for a moment, hand no longer skimming the top of the water as he contemplated the meaning behind what Connor was saying.

If he was considering leaving you here with him alone, than the situation was likely dire enough for it to be worth soothing their emotional human companion.

He nodded.

"Where else would I go?"

This reaction immediately caused Connor to shake his head in response.

"No, I don't just mean at the house, I mean here in the bathroom with her. She has some bruising on her ribs that I didn't notice earlier, so she shouldn't be left alone in the tub."

Sixty's gaze shot over to you, scanning your body for signs of injury until they landed on your left rib cage, where they lingered for quite a few moments before he finally nodded again.

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Just don't let Nines find out or he'll blow a fuse."

The joke was in poor taste, but Connor did little more than roll his eyes in response before his focused returned to you, his hand reaching over to unclasp your bra for you before you could find your way back to earth after hearing that Nines was bad enough for the medical staff to need some questions answered.

Still, out of little more than habit, you shrugged the garment off of your shoulders before shimmying out of your underwear, stepping over them afterward with a blank expression as you worked persistently to avoid seeing yourself in the mirror.

Connor noticed this, and shot a glance towards his successor before he nodded to the both of you in farewell.

"I'll be back soon. If you don't hear from me for a few hours, assume everything is alright. I will keep you updated on the important things."

He promised, reaching over to offer a hand for you to hold as you stepped into the tub before finally letting go a few moments after you were sat down, his eyes trained on yours as he did his best to convey that everything was going to be alright with his actions alone.

It did little to quell the growing anxiety in your heart, but you appreciated the effort nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Sixty reached forward to turn the water on once more, filling the tub further now that you were inside of it in order to ensure it was at the perfect temperature for you in the moment.

Connor and Nines rarely let you choose things like this, since the warmer the water the higher the chance of you feeling faint afterward, but Sixty was always far more concerned with your comfort the very second you were experiencing it than he was the future. From his perspective, he could fix whatever issues your body threw at you as long as you actually bothered to tell him what they were.

In fact, in his eyes, it would be worth it to rend his artificial skin from his artificial bone just to ease the unwavering pain in your eyes.

Just to make you smile.

Whether or not he really knew that he felt that way, was an entirely separate issue.

And the only one he was truly concerned with, was whether or not you did.

That, and the way your eyes stayed fixated on the now slightly blue tinted water that you had sunk your body into, afraid to look up and see your reflection staring back you, to see how the life giving vitality of another had changed it.

Sixty sighed at the sight of your obvious struggle, knowing all too well the feeling of being unable to look at oneself in the mirror.

Or, to see yourself so physically in another who was so clearly superior.

He got up without a word, and, making a show of it so you knew what was about to happen, flicked the light switch off.

With that persistent glow from overhead gone, the only thing illuminating the room was his LED, which made it nearly impossible for you to know whether the blue in the water was the light, or the blood of a loved one.

"Can you get in with me?"

You voice rang out so suddenly and with so little warning that Sixty paused as he stood near the closed doorway, his mind searching for an easy answer that would not come.

He was not usually the one you went to for comfort, Connor knew your heart best, Nines your mind, and that had left Sixty with your body, and he had learned to understand that with as little physical interaction as possible.

The sight of his hands resting upon your skin unsettled him, as did the way you trusted him so easily, as if you weren't so readily aware that he had been built for violence, brutality in the cases where it became necessary to protect you from some unknown evil that you had grown to fear but never to name.

It confused him, how comfortable you were with hands that had maimed and killed so many and gently touched so few.

Confused him, and left him wishing he were capable of holding you the way that the others were. So gentle, not for fear of harm but rather to convey a message of understanding, of comprehension far beyond what Sixty worried he could manage.

Built to look so similar, it was a shame to be so different.

He wordlessly got into the tub behind you, watching and undressing on approach as you scooted forward silently, the water sloshing around your fragile form as you made room for his threatening presence in that way no one else ever did, or he imaged ever would.

You knew his intentions regardless of his still mouth and tensed hands, always so good at seeing, so good at understanding.

Blessed be the hands you touched your monsters with, blessed be the eyes you saw them through.

If he could make them permanent fixtures on this earth he would, but instead he knows he'll simply have to shed his own consciousness the very moment you do the same.

Loyal brute, loyal fool, loyal follower, anything if he is yours.

Everything if he is yours.

He settled in behind you so easily that it almost felt like he belonged there, a thought so foreign that it did not even register until long afterward, while he was watching your hair dry by the smoldering flame of the tinder you had provided Connor with earlier.

The air had smelt of thirium when he realized it, burning gore and rose shampoo, which came from where you stood beside him.

He had thought of the petals of the flower as he stoked the flames rising off of your still burning shirt, thinking of the way that they all folded together so perfectly, so completely, that he could surely be nothing more than the thorn on your stem.

But then he had thought of the bath tub, and the way that your back had felt slotted against his chest as the warm water lapped at his synthetic skin, and how your hands had felt on his arms as you used them to keep yourself from slipping slightly on the slippery porcelain while the water settled.

Even as a well fitted thing, he had still caused a disturbance. When did he not?

But the future was still unknown for the moment, so he did not think about these things as he settled into the water behind you, instead choosing to ask if you were comfortable, only to be met with silence when you simply nodded, head tilted back in what the android took as a request, a gentle invitation, to make sure it was clean.

Sixty ran a few gentle fingers through your hair, doing his best to de-tangle what he could without hurting you before he began to cup water into his palms, using it to cleanse your locks of any dried thirium that had begun to grow thick and clotted there, so ironically similar to blood for all that it was not.

When he was done with that, he found the bottle of shampoo that he liked the scent of best beside the tub, and massaged it into your scalp, being careful not to pull.

He truly did know your body best of all, no matter how frightened of it he was.

You leaned into his touch slowly, as if hesitant to do so, and he said nothing about any of it, choosing instead to warn you to close your eyes as he used his hands to gather water once more, rinsing your hair of anything that had remained stuck on after it's de-tangling earlier on.

Your body came next, and you stood for that part, shivering in the cool air as it came in contact with your warm body, allowing him to not only feel your frailty, but also see it even clearer than he already had.

It was remarkable how much power something so fragile had.

Once you had been thoroughly cleansed of any traces of the day, Sixty was cautious in turning the light on again, eyes trained on your reaction thoughtfully all the way up until he had you wrapped in a towel and leaving the bathroom entirely, bound for your small room of soft robes and a plush mattress, one he had picked out (with the help of his "siblings" of course. Nothing ever got past them otherwise).

Sixty's thought regarding his counterparts had him faltering slightly as he guided you over to the edge of your bed to sit you down as he searched for clothing comfortable enough for you to sleep in later that evening.

He had seen the exhaustion in your eyes, and if Connor had been here, he would be insisting that Sixty was keeping you awake for all of the teary tired present in your gaze, but the younger android knew better. He knew you would fight it off until Nines either walked through the door himself, or was carried through in a bag of miscellaneous parts by his predecessor.

Not wishing to dwell on that thought, he soon settled on a large t shirt you had bought him at a concert a few years prior. He hadn't particularly enjoyed the music, didn't even really know how to back them, but you had seen him looking at it and bought it without a second thought.

So giving no matter how much was taken, he worried you might one day lose yourself to the pull of selflessness.

A selfish concern to be sure, how ironic.

Helping you get dressed with particular care being given to your bruised rib cage, Sixty was sure to scan your vitals multiple times throughout the process, always convincing himself that it was more for Connor, who could see the live data, than it was for him.

He was a liar, but he didn't need to admit that to himself, much less to the world.

Once you were finally comfortable and ready to relax for the evening, Sixty silently followed you out into the living area, setting you up with your favorite blanket on the couch (despite pretending to be surprised when you mentioned to him that it was your favorite when he laid it over top of your still vaguely shivering form) before he tried to think of something you could eat.

He had just come up with a few ideas to present to you when he noticed your shoulders shaking as your head rested heavily in your hands, and without a sound, he approached, sitting down beside you.

He let you cry for a little longer after that, so unused to comforting you in favor of his counterparts that he was rather unsure of what to say until finally, he simply said the only thing that came to mind.

"He's going to be okay. None of us are ever going to leave you, not as long as you need us."

His tone was firm and far less compassionate than the one Connor or even Nines may have used, but it must have done the trick, because you looked up at him weepily soon after, eyes wet and hands shaking as you took a deep and unsure breath.

"So you'll always be here?"

You all but wheezed, so desperate for comfort that the straining in your lungs was nothing if it meant receiving reassurance from someone.

Sixty responded without hesitance, his tone deadly serious as he spoke,

"We are yours. We won't leave unless you ask us to."

Connor called about Nines exactly 9.86 seconds later.

masterlist

AO3

#dbh x reader series #dbh connor x reader #dbh nines x reader #dbh sixty x reader #rk900 x reader #dbh x reader #s: I'd Burn Every Soul I Knew (If I Thought the Fire Was Warming You)#dbh series 0 cop edition

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 months

Text

Erudite

The ship fics are adorable, however I am also aro as heck and I have a proposition: Aromantic (possibly acespec, idrc whatever you wanna do there that's not the main focus) Logan being absolutely baffled because the other sides are flirting with each other and getting into relationships and flirting with him (not that he picks up on it) and he's just like. What. (long ask, so cut for brevity) - anon

Could you write a fic with aromantic or aro-spec Roman in it? – monkeythefander

*materializes into existence* Hi :D Mayhaps I request some Logince (Logan and Roman) hurt/comfort? Logan has a nightmare and Roman comforts the touch-starved Logan. Logan being a bit overwhelmed by all his emotions. Roman grounding him and giving him all the affection. Maybe some insecure Logan? Random Headcanon: Roman calls Logan "Erudite" as a comforting, loving nickname? Cause Lo is a lil nerd. Do what you will. Have fun :D – oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat

THOUGHT THOUGHT THOUGHT!! This has been on my mind for a while Names, as we have learned, are very important to the sides. (this ask is super long so not all of it is here) - anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: mild arophobia

Pairings: background virgil/patton/janus/remus

Word Count: 3123

Logan blinks awake with sweat soaking his sheets and an ache in his muscles. In the middle of the night, the only solace he can find is with someone who might understand.

Logan blinks awake with sweat soaking his sheets and an ache in his muscles.

"That's it, come on, now…"

There's a voice. Someone is speaking to him. Is it in his head? No, he would not have used such a phrase for himself at this moment.

"Stay with me, come on, I'm right here, wake up, L."

'L.' Ah. Virgil. Logan blinks again, stirring and wincing at the tug in his limbs as a blurry face swims into view. Virgil smiles at him—at least, he presumes he does, it is difficult to tell without his glasses—and ruffles his hair.

"Hey, there, buddy. You doing okay?"

"Virgil?" He swallows through his dry throat and tries again. "Virgil?"

"Yeah, buddy, it's me. You were having a nightmare, do you remember?"

His brow furrows as he tries to recall it. No images come to mind—though perhaps that is for the better—but the ache in his limbs coalesces into a strange and heavy soreness that isn't reminiscent of any sort of muscle pain. On instinct, his hand moves toward its center to try and figure out what's going on, but his fingers only scrabble uselessly against the soft fabric of his shirt.

"Hey, hey, uh-uh," Virgil interrupts, taking gentle hold of his wrist and pulling it away, "stay here. You with me?"

"I'm with you. I don't—I don't remember my nightmare, but my chest—my chest hurts."

"You think it's from hyperventilating?"

He shakes his head. "Not that kind of hurt."

Virgil nods, the mattress creaking slightly as he leans back to give Logan his space. "You wanna talk about it at all? You need to be grounded?"

"Can—?" His throat dries up again mid-question. "Can I have some water?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, I'll be right back."

The mattress squeaks again as Virgil's weight leaves it, the light to the bathroom and the sound of the sink following shortly. Logan drifts in the strange fuzzy half-dark of his room for several moments more before Virgil reappears with a glass of water. He sits up, carefully, and drinks about half of it.

"Thank you."

"Sure thing, bud. You need me to stay for a little longer?"

The soreness hasn't receded, but the prospect of letting Virgil stay makes it…worse. His fingers twist into the blankets. Virgil waits patiently until he sighs and his shoulders drop. "Can you see if Roman's awake, please?"

Surprise flickers across Virgil's expression, but he nods and stands. "If I can, I'll send him up. If not, do you want me to come back?"

"Just to say you couldn't find him, or he isn't awake. You don't have to stay."

"I don't mind," he says softly, but Logan shakes his head. "Okay. I'll see what I can do."

Virgil sinks out and Logan lets out a breath he hadn't been sure he was holding, putting the glass on his nightstand before his hands can shake too much to spill it. He rubs his chest. The soreness hasn't abated, but the lancing pain atop it has. Despite knowing how ill-advised it is, he finds himself once again trying to remember his nightmare. His fingers worry the creases in his shirt.

A knock on the door startles him out of his thoughts.

"Logan? It's Roman, Virgil said you were looking for me?"

"Come in."

Roman opens the door and glances around, spotting him in the bed and smiling. He looks…far too awake for the middle of the night, but at least he's dressed down in a T-shirt and sweatpants.

"Hi, Specs," he says quietly, shutting the door behind him, "what can I do for you?"

"I—"

Roman's brow furrows when he cuts himself off, taking a small step away from the door. "Can I come over?"

Logan nods and he comes to sit on the edge of the bed, still a respectful distance away, but close enough to lay a hand encouragingly on Logan's blanket-covered knee. Even through the fabric, the touch grows warm in a rush. Roman's hands are callused, he realizes, from years of swordfights and writing alike. His thumb makes little strokes back and forth, filling the room with the sound of fabric rustling.

"Logan?" Roman smiles when he looks up. "I think I lost you for a moment there."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, I'm pretty sure it's my fault." He indicates his hand. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Okay, then." He pats his knee. "Not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but I can't imagine midnight socializing works its way onto The Schedule, so—"

Logan snorts.

"—if you wouldn't mind telling me a little bit about what's going on in your head right now?"

"I had a nightmare."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Virgil was here, he…he woke me up. He got me water." Roman nods. "He…asked if I wanted to talk about it."

"And did you?" Roman prompts when he doesn't finish. "Is that when you asked him to get me?"

"Yes."

"Do you…want to talk about it with me?"

His mouth hardens into a thin little line.

"You don't have to," he continues, softer now, "I can just babble on and distract you until you get bored enough to fall back to sleep."

"That's not—" he touches his shirt again— "my chest hurts."

Roman blinks. "Okay. Um, do you want me to have a look at it?"

"…can you?"

"Of course, Specs, can I come a little closer?" Logan nods and Roman scoots up the bed. He briefly mourns the loss of the hand on his knee only for his breath to stutter when Roman's warm hand comes to rest gently on his chest. "Is this alright?"

He nods, not trusting his voice. Roman carefully rubs his hand back and forth, back and forth, in small circles, then bigger circles, then side to side, then down his sternum. A small furrow appears between his brows as he goes. When he's finished, he lays his hand right over Logan's heart and closes his eyes.

A few moments later, he opens them again.

"I can't feel anything wrong," he says, looking up at him, "but it does…I can feel something a little sore. Is that what it is?"

"Yes."

"Do you think it's just from the nightmare?"

"I don't even remember what the nightmare was."

"Okay, that's okay." His fingers tap lightly against his chest. "Is—can I keep asking questions?"

"Yes."

"Thank you. Does it have anything to do with why you sent Virgil to look for me?"

Logan's quiet for a moment. Roman waits patiently, his fingers still drumming lightly against his chest. "I…it didn't feel right."

"Right?"

"To ask Virgil."

"Why not?"

"He's…they're…"

Roman makes a soft oh sound and scoots the slightest bit closer. "Is it because the others are in a relationship now?"

It had been a long time coming, if the others were to be believed. Patton and Virgil and Janus and Remus—the four of them had recently started to explore the dynamics of a polyamorous romantic relationship and it had been going well. The four of them had been…happier than Logan could remember seeing them.

The thought of it is enough to twinge the ache.

"Hey," comes Roman's gentle voice, "stay here with me?"

"I'm here, I'm here."

Roman carefully pats his chest. "I'm guessing that was it?"

"…yes."

"Do you want to talk about that?"

Logan's mouth thins again. "It's stupid."

"If it's giving you nightmares, Specs, it's not stupid."

"It's not—" his head snaps up to look at Roman, who meets him with such soft and patient understanding that Logan's hand twitches toward his unconsciously— "do you…think that's what it was?"

"You woke up without being able to remember the nightmare except for this ache in your chest," he says, "you didn't feel comfortable letting Virgil comfort you, and you asked specifically for me."

Logan swallows. "Your logic is impeccable."

"Why, thank you."

"Still, it seems like an inappropriate thing to have a nightmare about." He shifts to ease a cramp in his leg. "The people that matter to me have gotten together and are happy about it. How is that supposed to give me a nightmare?"

Roman doesn't say anything, just looking at him expectantly. He sighs.

"I don't know, Roman."

"Do you want to try and figure it out, or do you want me to distract you from it until you can fall back asleep?"

"It'll frustrate me if I don't know why."

"Then let's figure it out."

"But that's hard," Logan mumbles, mostly under his breath. Roman chuckles and strokes his thumb across a wrinkle in his shirt.

"You like hard problems."

"Not when they keep me from sleeping."

"Come on, then, Braniac," Roman encourages, "let's get you thinking."

Logan sighs again, leaning back against the headboard. Roman goes to lift his hand from his chest but without thinking about it, he covers the hand, keeping it there. Roman makes a surprised noise.

"Sorry."

"No, no, it's alright." His hand shifts to get comfortable. "Can I ask why—would it be helpful if I asked you questions to help you think, or do you want to do it on your own?"

"You can ask."

"Thank you. Can I ask why you felt more comfortable asking for help from me than from Virgil?"

"We went over that."

"Say it again for those of us in class that aren't as clever as you."

Logan frowns slightly—Roman is clever. "Virgil has recently entered into a relationship."

"So?"

Logan turns to look at him. "What do you mean, 'so?'"

"What does that have to do with Virgil comforting you?"

"I'm not part of the relationship." Roman gestures for him to keep going. "That should—I'm not one of the people Virgil loves. Yes, yes, I know," he interrupts before Roman can say anything, "Virgil might love me, but he's not in love with me—he does not feel romantic love for me."

"I'm going to keep asking you why this matters, Logan."

"He's not—shouldn't he be doing that for his partners?" Irritation bleeds into his words. "Isn't that how that works?"

"How what works?"

"Romance," Logan spits, only belatedly realizing that Romance is Roman's thing, "as soon as you enter a romantic relationship with someone, they become your one and only priority, or whatever, they're who you're supposed to comfort, to seek comfort from, it doesn't matter what other relationships you might have, or might have worked on for years, as soon as someone gets the label of romantic partner, everything else might as well not exist."

Only after he's finished speaking and he sees Roman's expression does he realize what he's just said.

"…oh."

"You're worried the others won't think about you as much anymore," Roman summarizes with devastating softness, "and that they won't see their time with you or their relationship with you as important, is that right?"

Logan nods, shame bubbling into tears that Roman wipes away with a gentle noise.

"Does it scare you?" He nods again. "Oh, Logan…it's okay, can I hug you?"

Logan barely has time to nod again before Roman's sliding up and wrapping his arms around him and oh, Roman is big and soft and warm and his brain isn't coming up with good words anymore and he doesn't care because Roman's still hugging him and the ache in his chest is glowing and he's all warm and it almost burns and it—and—and—and—

"Shh, shh, Logan," he hears from a great distance, "it's okay. I'm right here, okay? I'm right here."

He decides he's not going to think about anything else. Nothing that isn't the fingers running lightly up and down his back. Nothing that isn't being rocked against a strong chest. Nothing that isn't the soothing murmur of words in his ear.

"I've got you, Logan. It's gonna be okay. I'm not going anywhere."

When he next surfaces out of swimming in the sensation of warm soft comfort Roman safe, he realizes Roman's moved them. He's leaning up against the headboard, Logan balanced halfway across his lap. He looks up from where his head is pillowed against Roman's shoulder. Roman smiles.

"Hey," he calls, running his fingers through his hair, "you feel any better."

"Mhm."

"That's good." He returns to scratching lightly between his shoulders. "If it's any consolation at all, I'm sure the others wouldn't be upset at getting able to comfort you at all. I think they'd miss it, actually, and start passive-aggressively fighting for the chance to do it again."

"That's kind of you."

"I'm serious! Mark my words, they'll be squabbling for the chance before you know it."

Despite himself, he laughs at the mental image of it. Roman's chest rumbles with a laugh of his own. "I don't think I would mind so much," he mumbles, tongue loosened by Roman's warmth, "if I didn't know it wasn't for me."

"If what wasn't for you?"

"That sort of thing." When Roman still looks confused, he sighs. "Romance…all of that. That sort of thing."

"What do you mean, romance isn't for you? Not that it's a problem," he says quickly, "that's your decision and you're welcome to make it, I'm just…curious."

"I'm aromantic."

"Oh. Me too."

"I just mean that—" he stops and looks up. "You're what?"

"I'm aro too, Logan," Roman says, smiling softly and running a finger down his cheek. "What's that look for?"

"You're—you—but you're Romance."

"And Janus is perfectly capable of honesty even though he's Deceit. Just because that's what I represent to Thomas doesn't mean I have to experience romantic attraction." Roman shrugs. "It's not like I'm against it, or for it, it's just…well, like you said. It's not for me."

"But—but—" Logan's still trying to make sense of this image— "but you flirt with the others all the time."

"It's fun."

"It's not fun, it's confusing. I get accused of flirting all the time and I don't even know what I'm doing that counts as flirting."

"Well, they're probably guessing that the way they flirt with you is how you'd flirt back at them."

"But that doesn't—"

He stops again. He furrows his brow. He bolts upright to stare hard at Roman.

"What do you mean, how they flirt with me? They don't flirt with me!"

"Yes, they do," Roman says patiently, "believe me, the only reason I know that is because I walk in on them scheming on how to flirt with you."

"They—you what?"

"Look, just because I'm Thomas's Romance doesn't mean I understand all of it myself."

"Why is this so complicated and confusing," he grumbles, letting Roman chuckle and coax him back into a hug, "why can't everyone just make sense?"

"I don't think they'd be themselves if they made sense 100% of the time."

Logan begrudgingly grumbles an acquiescence, but he doesn't have to like it. Judging by the way Roman laughs again and ruffles his hair, he won't hold it against him.

"You look better," he observes softly, smiling, "do you think you might be able to fall back asleep?"

He toys with the edge of Roman's shirt. Most of the ache is gone, but there's something still lingering that he can't quite figure out how to dissipate. "I don't—alright, this next part is going to sound stupid."

"Great. I love stupid-sounding things."

"They have…they're going to have secrets now. And I…I don't…" He sighs. "Do you remember when Patton told Thomas my name?"

Roman nods. Logan rubs the hem of his shirt between his fingers. After a moment, Roman hums. "They shared something private of yours, and now you don't know how to feel that they know everything about you and you won't be able to reciprocate?"

"When did you get so perceptive?"

Roman just chuckles. "I am sorry about the name thing, I don't—"

"It's fine. It was going to happen at some point."

"Still, Logan, you should've gotten to do that on your terms." Roman drums his fingers against the small of his back. "What if…what if we did it over?"

"Did what over?"

"What if you had a name—or something, that was just a private one? And then you could keep it, it could be your secret, and you could decide how you want to tell them about it, if you ever do?"

Heat begins to color his cheeks. "Like—like a pet name?"

Roman looks down. "If you wanted?"

"Okay."

"If you're not comfortable—"

"If it's you," Logan butts in, "only if it's you."

Roman pauses, looking at him, before a soft smile spreads across his face. "Okay. I'm okay with that. Do you have anything in mind?"

"You're Creativity," Logan mumbles, trying to hide his blush in Roman's stomach, "you think of one."

Roman tugs lightly on his hair in retribution but settles, humming as his fingers card along his scalp. Logan finds himself drifting off under the gentle touch, roused here and there by Roman trying out different names. Starlight is too close to his nickname for Virgil, all the generic ones are taken because the others might use them, anything to do with Logic is too impersonal…

"Erudite."

Logan stirs. He looks up. Roman cups his cheek and strokes his thumb across his cheekbone.

"Erudite," he says again, voice gentle and tender, "what about that?"

A lump appears in Logan's throat.

"Is that okay, Erudite?"

He sniffles.

"Oh, it's okay, Erudite, come here…you fall asleep for me now," Roman coos, cuddling a sleepy, weepy Logan to his chest, "shh, Erudite, it's okay…it's okay, let's try and sleep now…"

The ache in his chest fades away as he falls into a dreamless sleep.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #aromantic #aro #arospec

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elvenbeard · 4 months

Text

WIP Whenever

I was tagged by @chevvy-yates @katsigian @genocidalfetus @just-a-cybercroissant @therealnightcity @pinkyjulien and @ouroboros-hideout (by some of you forever ago, I'm just in the middle of catching up with all the recent tags a bit XD) And tagging you all right back and everyone else who's reading this right now >:3c

My biggest WIP at the moment is still apartment renovations! Fixing holes and painting walls, but there's now only one corner left, then I'm fucking done and it can't sublty stress me anymore xD

I am having a real good time with the whole process though like... I have no idea yet how long I'm gonna live here, but no matter if it's 3, 5, 10 years, I sure as hell want it to be a cool place for the time being.

My kitty-approved Neo-Kitsch inspired Bedroom wall xD only that one wall, but I love it xD

Writing-wise, I've started the next chapter of "Love is Stored in the Olive Jar". I don't have much to share yet, but here's the opening lines:

V awoke coughing and choking, sputtering a red cloud across his pillow. He quickly sat up, his throat tight and scratchy, mouth like copper. His vision was blurry, he thought from sleep still at first, but no. Through visual glitches and blinding pain he could only just make out the dark red stains dripping from his nose and mouth onto the bedsheet. He gasped for air still, his chest hurting as if he had been stabbed.

Fun times :D

Art-wise I have been working on a secret gift for the cp2077 new year's exchange that I finished the other day :3 And I have some wips of the bois (TM) but I can only share one on tumblr for reasons:

Very professional photo of my iPad screen XDD This is still rough and subject to change, but the idea was basically, V and Kerry, a bunch of years post-2077 (like... 5-10 or so), just very comfy and happy and healthy ;__;

VP-wise I still have a couple of pics on the backburner, some I still wanna edit, and maaan ;__; I also recently got to test some friends' mods that I'm super excited for and share the pics of!!! <3

Aaaand... that's it XD I hope in the new year I can dive back into modding, once the renovations are done, and also get started with more regular commissions and streaming again, cause I've been missing both but yeah... you see my list of projects above, there's only so much time in a day xD

Thank you all again for the tags <33

#wip wednesday #personal stuff #cyberpunk 2077 #kerry eurodyne x v #kerry eurodyne #work in progress #long post

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rebelliousstories · 1 year

Text

Of Pumpkins and Mayhem

Relationship: Corey Cunningham x Reader

Fandom: Halloween Ends

Request: Yes by @rebel-blue

Warnings: Fluff, Light Angst, Mentions of Death, Brief Strong Language

Word Count: 3,000

Masterlist: Here

Halloween Masterlist: Here

Summary: Halloween is upon Haddonfield. Thankfully, Corey’s girl knows exactly how to cheer him up.

October 31st, 2021

There was very little more that Corey Cunningham feared than just walking down the street. Haddonfield was such a small town, and everyone knew everyone. Which meant that he was forever labeled “psycho babysitter killer” by the locals. Most of them leave him be, and just shoot him dirty looks. He can tune those out. But when people decided that they had to make their voice heard? That he had more difficulty tuning out.

She was somewhere in the store with him, having disappeared when he turned back around from grabbing cereal. He went on a scavenger hunt for her and started to feel the anxiety creep in. He held his Lucky Charms in hand, but that hand was starting to sweat. Each corner he turned, he saw their faces. He saw the judgement, the disgust, the anger. Where was she? He didn’t care about the cereal anymore, he jus wanted to go home. Corey felt his breathing pick up.

“No, no, no! Please. Not a panic attack in the middle of the store.” He thought to himself. This was not the time nor the place. In the haze he had put himself in, Corey failed to notice the hand that was coming up to his shoulder. As soon as it made contact, he jumped back like someone shot him and tried to see who it was. His vision was still blurry, and the cereal was discarded on the floor.

“-orey? Corey? Baby, look at me.” A gentle voice called out from the fog. The hand that had just touched his shoulder was now on his cheek, but it was a lot softer and sweet. He blinked once, twice, three times. Slowly but surely, she came into view. His darling girl. Her face was scrunched up in concern and she continued to talk to him.

“Corey, baby. You okay? I’m here, baby. Is there anything you need? Breathe, breathe.” She guided him, like a ship lost at sea. Corey was quickly reminded of his breathing and followed her lead in trying to bring it back down. As his breathing leveled out, so did his vision. She became clearer, until she was fully back in view. Once she saw recognition, she smiled.

“There’s my handsome man. Now, are you okay?” They still stood in the middle of the supermarket, cart and cereal abandoned. But her hands on his face, brought him to another plane of existence. He nodded before wrapping himself around her. Her hands moved quickly to his hair as his played with her shirt.

“Couldn’t find you. Thought you left.” He mumbled into her neck. She let out a sigh at his words and continued to hold him.

“Baby, I’m not going to leave you. Certainly not in the middle of a super market. I just saw something and I took off. I should’ve told you that I was going. I’m sorry, honey.” Her words softly grazed his head. Corey took in a deep breath, and let it out in a full body sigh.

“It’s okay. I was just starting to think that you weren’t here. I’m sorry.” The words stickler her skin as he kept himself buried in her neck.

“No need for you to apologize, baby. Next time, I’ll communicate better. It’s all good.” She let him stay as long as he needed to in her arms. If there was one thing she learned from dating Corey all these years, it was that he needed genuine affection. Getting a hug from her was amazing; she didn’t expect anything in return. She listened to Corey and let him take affection when he needed to. It was a complete 180 to what he received at home. The young man stayed there for another minute or so before he pulled his head away, but was still in her arms. He looked down at his lovely girl and smiled. He couldn’t believe she was his. She leaned up and asked for a kiss, that Corey was glad to give her. Once they pulled away, Corey readjusted his glasses, and bent down to get the box of cereal that had fallen. She made her way back to their cart and that’s when Corey saw it.

“Um, sweetie. Why are there pumpkins in the cart?” He questioned, setting the box of sugary cereal down in front of them in the basket.

“Oh, I thought it might be a fun activity for us to do tonight. Something we can do in the house.” Corey looked a little worried. It had been two years since he celebrated Halloween in any fashion. He didn’t dress up, didn’t put out anything for trick-or-treater’s. He would occasionally watch a scary movie but he didn’t watch a whole lot. Mainly psychological thrillers in stead of anything with gore. He hadn’t carved a pumpkin in years, even before the accident.

“Oh. O-okay.” The man stuttered as they turned down another isle. She stopped the cart and turned to her lover.

“Core, we don’t have to if it’s going to bring up bad memories. I just thought it might be fun. But we can do our usual of watching cartoons and binge eating instead.” She had already started to pick up the decently sized pumpkins to put them back, but Corey’s hands shot out to stop her movements.

“No. It’s-it’s okay. I want to try it. I’ll make sure to tell you if I’m uncomfortable.” She smiled, and set the pumpkins down. Her hands cradled his face, and a soft kiss was placed on his nose.

“That’s all I could ask for, baby. Come on, let’s go home.” And go towards home they did. Thankfully, there weren’t a lot of people near the front, meaning the couple could make their getaway without having another episode. Corey placed all the groceries in the trunk while she put the cart away. They piled into the front, and drove off towards her apartment. His coveralls sat in the back seat, having come straight to the store from his work. She had the day off, and drove him to and from work so they could spend the evening together. Corey had already told his mother and step father that he wasn’t going to be home that night. His mother had a screaming fit that lasted all the way until he physically stepped foot outside the door. The look she shot his girlfriend was disgusting in his humble opinion. But she constantly told Corey,

“Come hell or high water, the only person who can tell you who to be with is you. She might be your mother, but she doesn’t own you.”

She always had the right words to say. Always knew how to calm him down and bring him back from the edge. The ride home was peaceful, falling leaves surrounded them. The colorful display fascinated Corey as he stared out the window. He reached over without looking to hold her hand, and she took it gladly. He saw kids already out trick-or-treating and smiled. The kind of innocence you can only have from being a kid. He wondered what Jeremy would have dressed up as this year. Maybe a ninja or a zombie. He loved scary things. Corey shook his head quickly, trying to keep himself present and not think about that too much.

“Core, we’re here baby.” They made it home. He nodded in acknowledgment, and got out to grab the bags and his clothes from the backseat. He took most of the groceries and one of the pumpkins, while she took the other one and got her keys ready. They made it up the flight of stairs to the second floor apartment and got inside quickly before the neighbors could see. As soon as he stepped inside, Corey smelled the fall candle she must have burned today before coming to pick him up.

The pumpkin and groceries made their home in her kitchen before he went to peck her on the cheek. Pumpkin spice, vanilla, and marshmallows flooded his nose. It smelt like a home. A place that he can come to at the end of a long day and relax and let go. Everything here felt so much more homey than his house, and he had her to thank for it. This place could only have a mattress and a dresser, but it would still be home as long as she was here.

“Do you mind if I shower real quick?” He asked, already moving towards the bathroom in her little apartment.

“Not at all baby. I got you some more body wash so it’s right next to your open bottle in the bathroom. Do you want pizza for dinner?” She asked, focused on her tasks of putting away the food.

“Sure. Just get the usual?” He said hopefully, as she turned to look at him with a certain look of of course.

“You got it handsome. Go shower, you stink. Love ya!” She called back and he stumbled into the bathroom. He felt the exhaustion creep into his muscles now that he could relax and his heart swelled in the small room. She was right; his new body wash was waiting next to his old one. He was over so much that he had his own second set of toiletries in her room, his own part of the dresser in her bedroom. Even his own half of the closet that he kept spare work clothes in, in case he needed to go to work after spending the night with her. The domestic nature of everything made his head spin. He loved it but at the same time, this was new and uncharted territory for him. One step at a time.

By the time he stepped out of the shower, she was just now closing the door with pizzas in hand. His damp hair hung low on his face, obscuring his vision a little bit. She set the pizzas down and turned back around the all the sudden see her boyfriend standing behind her.

“Mother Mary and Joseph! Oh, you scared me Core. Did you enjoy your shower?” She asked, as she recovered from her near heart attack. He chuckled sheepishly and came over to her. She grabbed the pumpkins in her arms, but he swooped in and took them from her.

“It was good, thank you. How long was I gone?” He was curious because she had already changed into comfy clothing, and gotten food. She made her way over to the coffee table and set down the craving kit she had gotten for both of them, as well as some tarp and other bits and bobs that they needed.

“About thirty minutes. But that’s okay. You clearly needed it if you took that long.” He let her take one of the pumpkins from him and place it on the covered table. Corey took his place on the couch, as she got up to grab their plates and pizza. Drinks and napkins took up one half of the table, while pumpkin stuff took the other half. Before she sat down again, she fired up her T.V. and started a movie. The original, black and white, 1931 Dracula movie started to play and Corey was happy. Happy that she treated him so well.

“Alright,” she said as she finally sat down, “what kind of face are you going to put on your pumpkin?” She took a bite of her pizza before she set it down, and began planning hers.

“I’m not sure. Maybe just the classic pumpkin face.” He grabbed his marker and began to draw. Corey tried to look at what his lover was planning but she kept it hidden from him. She set the pumpkin down, and picked up her knife to open it up. He went to do the same, but couldn’t. He tried to bring his hand up to grab the knife, but he just stared at it. Flashes came into vision from that night; him grabbing the knife, the knife still being in his hand as he came down the stairs, Jeremy lying there lifeless, his mother’s face screaming at him. A hand reached across and rested gently on top of his. He looked at his girlfriend, and she looked at him with all the patience in the world.

“It’s okay, Core. You know you don’t have to.” She said, ever so softly. Her body moved closer and discarded her own knife in favor of helping her lover. She enveloped his hand in her own, trying to hold as much of it as she could. With her had behind his, she slowly and carefully moved it closer to the small, plastic handled knife. He gingerly wrapped his hand around the orange handle, and let out a shaky breath. Her other hand ran up and down his arm soothingly as she whispered in his ear, trying to keep him from going into a full blown panic attack.

“It’s okay, Corey. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you. You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to okay? You’re okay. You’re safe, baby. Do you hear me? You’re safe. I wont let anything hurt you.” Corey tried to focus solely on her voice and felt himself relax into it. He waited for a few minutes before he moved again, keeping her hand placed on his. Slowly, he moved his hand closer to the pumpkin. She readjusted so she could be even closer to Corey. Said man was placing the knife against the top of the pumpkins, but hesitated to push it in.

“Baby, you don’t have to go any further okay? We can stop here. This is already such a big chunk of progress, honey. I’m proud of you.” Corey turned to his lover, and smile at her. His glasses were readjusted, and he closed his eyes. He felt his knife go in the pumpkin, and then opened his eyes again. He did it. The knife was in the pumpkin, and he didn’t have a panic attack about it. His girl pressed a darling kiss to his cheek.

“I’m proud of you baby. This is great progress. You’re doing so well. Do you want me to continue holding you, or do you wanna try it by yourself?” She asked softly and kindly. He turned back to face her again and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“I think I’m good. I’ll let you know if I have to stop. You go ahead and carve yours. Thank you for helping me.” She nodded at his words, and turned back to her own pumpkin. The sound of sawing filled the apartment and soon enough, the couple was pulling the tops off the gourds. She began to scoop out the guts when she felt something hit her in the head. She turned around to face the direction that it came from; pumpkin guts hit her in the head and it came from the boy next to her that was holding his hand out. When he noticed he had been caught, Corey started to laugh and his smiled widened.

“Oh you little shit!” And thus began an all out war. Corey and his girlfriend started scooping pumpkin guts out with their bare hands and chucking them at each other. Corey kept laughing which in turn made her laugh. His eyes lit up in a way that she hadn’t seen from him in a very long time. Corey looked and sounded genuinely happy. When there were no more guts left to throw, Corey grabbed some that had fallen onto the table and smushed them into his girlfriend’s face. He placed his body on top of hers on the couch and caged her in. The wild hair all chalked full of pumpkin pieces, the glasses askew that barely hid his joyful eyes, made her happy. This was the single moment that he was the happiest since the accident.

“Thank you for this, beautiful. I really needed this. I love you.“ before she could say it back, he was kissing her lips. He could vaguely taste the pizza she had and a hint of her coffee she loved so much. Trace amounts of pumpkin made their way into the taste that she had about her. But it didn’t matter to her one bit.

“I love you. You’re welcome Corey. Now, can we call a truce or do I need to whoop you again?” She joked, trying to get up. But Corey just grabbed some more pumpkin and smashed it in her hair. They spent the remaining evening laughing, joking, watching movies, and yes, finishing their pumpkins. Some how, no matter how much she picked pieces out, Corey always managed to get more pumpkin in his hair. Once they were finished, the couple put some LED candles in the gourds and set them on her balcony. His was a classic Jack-O-Lantern face, with the triangle eyes and teeth. And hers? The little kissing emoji so it looked like her pumpkin was kissing his pumpkin.

Corey helped clean all the pumpkin up from their little war. He found some in the carpet, table, couch, walls, and even the ceiling. But it didn’t matter how much of a mess they made. They had fun. His lady was finishing putting away the snacks and drinks before grabbing Corey’s hand and pulling him into the bedroom. They collapsed onto the bed, and Corey immediately took his place beneath the blankets, tangled together, and facing her.

“Thank you again. That was the most fun I’e had in… well I think this is the best Halloween I’ve ever had.” Corey admitted softly, his eyes drooping. Her hands tangled into his hair which helped lull him into sleep.

“I’m glad you enjoyed tonight. You made so much progress. I’m proud of you baby. Goodnight.” She didn’t hear a response for a moment or two. But then, his response was loud and clear.

Soft, comfortable snores entered the room.

Tags: @rebel-blue @ethanhoewke

#rebelliousstories #writing #corey cunningham x you #corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham #corey cunningham imagine #halloween imagine #halloween ends #halloween #horror #slasher x you #slasher x reader #slashers #slasher imagines

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