#this is something i spoke about in therapy the other day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

violentdelightsandviolentends · 6 months

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Five.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.7k

Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.

Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.

A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.

It's been three months since you left home.

It's been three months since you saw Bucky.

He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.

He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.

You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.

The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.

Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.

And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.

On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.

You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"This is ridiculous."

Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.

"Good ridiculous?"

She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.

"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."

Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.

"I need these on the menu."

"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."

"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."

"Okay. Fine."

You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.

You know it's because of your Tethering.

Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.

And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.

Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.

It takes time to adjust.

No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.

For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.

For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.

Both are valid. Both are understandable.

You remind yourself of this every day.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."

The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.

"Who is it?"

"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."

Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?

You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.

You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.

He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.

"Hi."

"Hey. Are you the baker here?"

"I am."

He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.

"I'm Rafael."

You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.

"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."

You don't say anything, so he continues.

"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."

You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.

"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."

You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.

You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.

"You're really talented, you know."

"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."

His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.

"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."

"You'd do that for her?"

"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."

"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.

"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."

He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.

"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."

You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.

"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."

The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,

"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."

His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.

"You are?"

"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."

"You guys are married?"

"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."

"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"

You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.

"He's my Dad's best friend."

You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.

"Woah."

"Yeah."

"That... is complicated."

"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."

Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.

"How did your parents react?"

"They don't know yet."

His eyebrows raise almost comically high.

"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."

"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."

"Understatement of the century," he laughs.

You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.

"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."

"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."

He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.

"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."

"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"

"Sure does."

You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.

"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."

"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."

"Thanks, Rafael."

"Of course. Thank you."

"Of course."

That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."

"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."

"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"

"What kind of surprise?"

"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."

"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."

"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."

"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."

"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."

"I know," you smile. "I know."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.

You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.

You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.

You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.

You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.

You know who it is.

A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.

You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.

He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.

He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.

He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.

"You're here."

You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.

"I'm here."

Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.

"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."

He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.

"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.

"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."

"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."

"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."

"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"

He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.

"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."

You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.

"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.

"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."

"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."

"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."

"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.

"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."

"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.

He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.

"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."

"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."

"Miss you more."

He looks at you, smiling.

"Man, we're the worst."

"Truly."

He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.

It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.

There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.

"Surprise!"

You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.

"Oh my God! You guys!"

She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.

He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.

"I got you something. I hope you like it."

That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.

"Happy Birthday, Mama."

She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.

She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.

"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."

"Missed you. You look beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."

You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.

"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."

You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.

You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.

What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.

When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.

"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"

His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.

"I have to."

"Oh yeah?"

"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."

He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.

"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."

"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."

His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.

"One dance," you whisper.

He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.

I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.

Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"That was close!"

Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.

"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."

"Mama, are you sure?"

"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."

"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."

She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.

"Love you both."

"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"

"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"

You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.

"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."

You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.

"It's not the same here without you."

You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.

You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.

"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"

He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.

"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."

"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."

"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."

"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."

He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.

"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."

He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.

"Okay. I promise."

You whip your head around to look at him.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."

"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"

"I know. I feel it."

You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.

"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.

"I have. What for?"

"The couch."

You process for a moment before it clicks.

"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."

"No?"

"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."

He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."

You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.

"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."

Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.

"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."

You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.

Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.

"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"

You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.

"Please, Buck. Anything."

"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."

He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.

"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Yeah?"

"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."

Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.

"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.

You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.

Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.

You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.

He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.

"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."

You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.

He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.

"You good?"

"So good," you grin. "Never better."

"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.

"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."

"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."

You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.

Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.

You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.

"Buck, I-"

"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."

"Need you to move, baby."

He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.

"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."

Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.

He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.

"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."

The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.

Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.

He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.

"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.

"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.

Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.

"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."

You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.

"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.

The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.

Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.

Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.

"I don't want you to go."

The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.

"I don't think I want to go."

He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.

"You have to, baby. It's your dream."

Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.

"You're my dream."

Bucky sniffles, and you continue.

"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."

You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.

"We'll be okay, my honey girl."

You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.

"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.

You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

1K notes · View notes

phntmeii · 6 months

Note

Hil

Im not sure if your taking requests for writing, but if you are I was wondering if you could do a slashers × S/O who is very strong but doesn't look it?

If that makes sense...

Like the S/O is very sweet, short and small, like she looks petite and fragile but it turns out she can easily lift extremely heavy things, or can punch really hard.

Like even harder or stronger than the slasher.

If you could specifically add Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, (NBC) Hannibal and Will, and maybe Thomas Hetwit?

Sorry I don't know if that's too much to ask for, I just love your writing so much!

Being Stronger than Slashers .

[ SFW + Fem Terms]

Pairings: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Thomas Hewitt x petite!strong!Reader General Warnings: Descriptions of Gore/Blood, Violence, Slightly OOC, Descriptions of panic attack/episode, Manipulative behavior mention

A/N: ty anon for request <33 Back to slashers :) Sad I haven’t posted more of them literally in Halloween month but I’m working on it (last second lol) </33

Bo Sinclair

Absolutely turned on to the fucking max when he sees your strength.

Small, sweet partners was always his type. He just loves fulfilling the typical male stereotype of being a protector over his partner.

When he turned the corner, looking to finish off the last victim of the lot within his abandoned town, only to see something better.

He watched as you effortlessly were carrying the body of the victim over your shoulder like it was nothing. Head completely caved in, more of a mass of flesh and blood than an identifiable person. Your other hand held a bloodied hammer.

Bo was completely still, but not of fear. He was standing there like a man who had completely re-fallen in love again.

His eyes were shining as his grin grew wide. Approaching, he was nothing but prideful.

His voice was light with a chuckle, thumb brushing away the blood on your cheek. “Shit, sweetheart… Never knew a pretty girl like you was so… strong. I love it.”

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent was overprotective a lot of the time. He was insistent you were never near his work nor would you be involved when victims were in town.

He loved you too much to have you a part of him and his brothers’ work.

Vincent was slightly startled, hearing the door of his studio open. He knew both his brothers were out.

Seeing it was you, he approached, silently looking down at you. You could tell there was an air of disappointment at you being in his studio when he didn’t want you to be.

A ragged, strained voice spoke from behind his mask, “Why?”

With a shrug of your shoulders and a smile, you walked past him, further into the studio. “Bo said he needed a box in here.”

Watching you walk past, his eyes were hidden but widened as he watched you easily lift up a heavy table to look under it, scrolling past the items underneath it.

He approached confused but didn’t stop you. “Oh! Here it is!” Your arms held up a filled box of tools and parts.

Vincent followed you around curiously for the rest of the day like a shadow. He was completely fascinated by your strength, wanting to see it again.

Once you returned from helping Bo, Vincent couldn't let go of you. He kept his arms around you, head on your shoulder. His quiet, strained voice simply said, "Show me again... Please?"

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal always held an air of curiosity about you. Your sweet nature was like an untainted part of his life. A woman so far from himself.

Hannibal’s curiosity was never-ending. He took advantage of his intelligence to learn as much as he could. Stalking, Manipulative behaviors in “therapy”, etc.

You were almost always at his place. He liked it better that way although it provided some maintenance when it came to his extracurricular activities.

Hannibal had been making another of his fancy dinners for the two of you. The presentation had to be precise and perfect. Presentation was half the work for him.

He absentmindedly spoke while you were cutting vegetables beside him, “I have not set the chairs. I will do so in a moment, my love.”

Immediately, you wanted to assist. You always liked helping out. “I’ve got it!”

Watching you walk away, he expected to finish his current task before going off to assist you. Instead, he looked up to the doorway to see you easily walking past with a heavy wooden chair in each hand, easily carrying the two like they were just a stack of papers.

A small smirk curled at his lips as his hands slowed in their work. He whispered to himself, knowing his eager curiosity was not wasted, “You are… a delight, my love. You will make for something truly wonderful.”

Will Graham

Will was someone who was vigilant and aware. His mind always raced a million miles an hour with tiny observations and connections.

There was something about you but he just couldn’t place it.

But, what was there to prove? You were sweet and kind, seeming so far from what he knew. That was part of why he held love for you—You weren’t him.

Will was in his head again, silently panicked by his own mind. It was torturous to live in a prison of his own violent thoughts.

You were someone who always noticed. Always could pick up when these episodes started.

Holding his hands and speaking sweetly to him to draw him back to reality, unfortunately, wasn’t working this time.

His eyes kept darting back and forth while his breath quickened. With him standing still, quivering, you had to make the choice.

With simple ease, you picked Will up bridal style, walking away with him.

It took him a moment to realize what happened, breaking out of being inside his head. His eyes just stared at you when he was placed onto his bed, sweat drenching his forehead.

He broke out into a small smile, absentmindedly licking his lips, as was his habit. "I... didn't know you could do that."

"Is it a bad thing?"

"No. It's... really attractive, actually."

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy was always a protector. Toward his family, it was evident. A given. Toward you, it was an inherent need.

The last thing he'd ever want is for you to be hurt, especially when victims come around.

He would lead you and Luda Mae into a room, having you two barricade it while him and Hoyt took care of the unfortunate victims who made their way to the wrong home.

You waited, albeit anxiously. And it only grew once you heard a loud thud followed by Hoyt's yelling.

"Goddammit, Tommy! The fuck are you doin'?"

Immediately you knew something went wrong. Despite Luda Mae trying to keep you in the room, you ripped away the makeshift barricade on the door and rushed out.

Tommy was on all fours, holding the side of his head. A man, you assumed one of the few victims, held a hammer in his hand. He quivered holding it, as if horrified by his own self-defense.

Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest chair, pulling back and cracking it hard against the man. Aimed for his head, he dropped to the floor unconscious by the impact.

You rushed over to Tommy's side, panicked. "Tommy! Tommy! God- Are you okay?"

His arm just instinctively shot out and held you to his body, protecting you in his mind. He opened his eyes and looked past you to see the victim with broken wooden pieces of the chair on top of him.

With his mask on, his expression was hidden. But inside, his heart warmed at how you were strong enough to protect him too. His own protector.

#slasher fucker #slashers x reader #slasher headcanons #slasher x reader #slashers #slashers headcanons #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt headcanons #thomas hewitt x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #vincent sinclair headcanons #vincent sinclair x reader

1K notes · View notes

rootbeerworshiper · 2 months

Text

Thrift Store

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: cute asf LMAO

had an anon talk about this and omg it’s so adorable i’m 🤭🤭

love, sienna <3

“Matt cmon please one more store” Chris begs his older brother.

the three have been out shopping the entire day at different vintage stores and flea markets in LA and to say Matt was tired would be an understatement. his social battery never lasted long in public and today was no different.

as always, Matt had already found a bunch of things, but his brothers weren’t as lucky and both of them wanted to go to just one more store.

this would be fine if they could drive, but Matt’s the designated driver because he’s the only one who got his license which now means wherever they go, he goes. “you better be fast” he gives in, driving to the last store with heavy eyelids and zero motivation for shopping.

_______________________________________________

you on the other hand are more energetic than normal, you had just gotten coffee with a friend and impulsively decided to stop at a store before you went home.

fashion had always been something that spoke to you, not only did you love imaging different outfits and putting pieces together, but you also consider good fashion to be attractive—like a love language in a weird way.

thrifting was always like therapy, you’d put one airpod in and play a mix of songs ranging from Mac Miller to Frank Ocean, your felt at ease sifting through the racks.

the bell at the top of the door rings but you don’t think anything of it, still mindlessly sorting through an abundance of tops while ‘Ivy’ plays softly in your airpod.

_______________________________________________

the moment Matt steps foot into the store he freezes, literally causing Chris to bump into him in the entrance area. “bro what the fuck move”

he shakes his head, what is he thinking? “sorry” he continues walking but ultimately keeps his general focus on you, a girl thrifting by herself, he wasn’t sure why, but he was infatuated with you from the moment he saw you.

Nick looks to him as if he knows what’s happening, his brother flustered at the sight of a girl. “let’s keep moving kid there’s more important things to be looking at”

after mumbling out a quick “yeah whatever” he obliges, heading to the men’s sweater section of the store while his brothers go elsewhere.

his eyes flicker between you and the clothes, and it doesn’t take long for you to eventually pick up on the boy who’s gaze is directed towards you from across the room.

_______________________________________________

another thing you love thrifting is books. most of the time there’s not many options, but you love looking at the abundance of old books on the shelves with a hope that you’ll find something worth reading.

you couldn’t help but avert your gaze to a brunette boy in a green sweater with baggy jeans and his keys hanging on by a clip—he was hot.

and the two of you have made eye contact about twenty times since he entered the store, not that you’re complaining.

you shake your head, focusing back on the book shelf in front of you as you begin to sift through the numerous texts. soon you see the name of a familiar author and open up the book, looking for a description as to what it’s about, fully invested in the book and not your surroundings.

_______________________________________________

“i can’t just go up to her!” Matt whisper yells to Chris as they reside at the opposite side of the store as you.

the long haired boy lets out a frustrated sigh. “that’s exactly what you do! how do you think people meet each other?”

“not by hiding in the back of the store” Nick chimes in as he walks towards the jewelry section.

“i feel like it’s random, what do i even say? hey i’ve been staring at you since i walked in! no.” Matt is definitely one to overthink, today is no different.

although he had more relationship experience than his brother, Chris, that didn’t mean he alluded the same confidence.

“i don’t know Matt compliment her or something, you are literally hopeless” Chris runs his hands through his hair. “just be confident, even if you have to fake it” he pats his brother on the shoulder before waking off to join Nick elsewhere.

be confident

so he does what his brother told him, walking towards the book area with doubting thoughts coursing through his mind.

_______________________________________________

you look away from your book for one second, and the boy from earlier is directly next to you. “oh hi” you smile. you weren’t one to be introverted in settings like this, you enjoy making new friends and he was no exception.

him on the other hand, it was clear he was nervous, which only increased your own confidence.

“hey” he scratches the back of his neck, head louring low as he smiles. “do you thrift a lot? it just seems like you have good style so”

the compliment brings a heat to your cheeks. “i do thrift a lot, i love fashion a little too much” you stop yourself from rambling, if given the opportunity you could talk for hours on end. “i like your sweater, it’s cute”

“thanks” he says simply, some people are not great at receiving compliments and it’s clear he’s one them.

“what are you up to today?” you ask, looking back down at the book in your hands before adding it to the basket you’ve started.

“just shopping with my brothers all day, i’m exhausted but they can’t drive so i have to take them everywhere” he replies, earning a small laugh from you. “what about you?”

“just went out for coffee with a friend actually. i wasn’t planning on shopping but the bus wasn’t coming for another twenty minutes so i had time to kill”

“so you can’t drive either i take it” he teases, running his hand through his wavy hair.

you put your hands up as if your being arrested. “in my defence i have my learners, just need to learn how to actually move a vehicle now”

he chuckles at this. “that’s the hardest part. i could help you if you want, you know teach you how to drive”

“i’d like that, but i don’t even know your name so we’re technically still strangers unfortunately” you joke. “i’m y/n” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“i’m Matt” he replies awkwardly, it’s cute though, how easily flustered he is.

“well Matt as much as i’ve enjoyed talking to you i do have a bus to catch” you gather your things. “i’ll take you up on your driving lessons but i guess you need my number for that”

“i guess i do” he says, pulling out his phone and handing it to you.

you roll your eyes, smiling as you type your number into the phone. “i’ll see you later Matt”

“i’ll see you later y/n”

and with that you walk towards the checkout, a smile still plastered on your face, and if you were to look back you’d see that Matt has the same.

_______________________________________________

when Nick and Chris finally finish shopping, the three make their way to the car after an extremely tiring day. Matt smiles as he sits in the drivers seat, his brothers joining him once they finish placing their bags in the car. “i got her number”

“you what?” Chris asks as his phone connects to bluetooth.

“i got her number and she said my sweater is cute” Matt buckles his seatbelt, doing his best to avoid smiling like an idiot.

“atta boy Matt” Chris daps up Matt as he pulls out of street parking.

the driver looks down at his sweater, he was definitely going to be wearing more stuff like this.

a/n: short and sweet but flustered!Matt x confident! reader is my fav tbh

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut ily <3

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo

437 notes · View notes

muneca-lemon-steppa · 6 months

Text

All Kinds of Trouble

Alfie Solomons x Reader, Fluff, 1.2k words

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Hi guys!! Ok so maybe hiatus is over? I'm trying to be gentle with myself and not hold myself to high standards in posting schedules. Again, therapy and Bar prep are a lot to handle rn, but I was able to do this little piece! This is based of a request sent in by my sweet friend @jassiefayee !!!! I hope you enjoy this angel!! Anyway, love you all so much! Have an amazing day!

Alfie didn’t find peace in many things. The business and all. Made him toss and turn at night, and in the daylight caused him to explode from the pure idiocy of people around him.

But walks in the park with Cyril? Now that gave him peace. With Cyril by his side, anyone who may have wanted to cause trouble stayed far away. Cyril’s imposing stature and mean looking face kept many men looking to scrap at bay, but little did they know that Cyril was by far the sweetest dog in Camden. And the fresh air did Alfie good. Being out in the park, feeling the breeze, hearing children and birds milling about created a sort of temple for him. A quiet place for him to let his mind rest, talk to himself (or God if he had a particular question), or just hum to the beat of Cyril's paws on the ground. This was his rest. This was his peace.

Now it should be noted, that one of the reasons that Alfie loved this particular park was that it was free of distractions for both him and Cyril. While Cyril was a very sweet and good natured dog who hardly ever caused an unnecessary ruckus, he was still a dog. And dogs have this strange habit, if not fantastic ability, to completely change the course of their owner's life.

So it was during a brisk walk on a fine November day where Alfie was suddenly pulled with all the force of heaven’s angels by Cyril’s lead through the park. And just as quick as he was yanked he was halted, nearly tripping over his boots and coat, and falling into Cyril and what might possibly be one of those treacherous angels.

It had become a relatively new habit for you to take a few moments of your day to sit in the park. Whether strolling, reading, or simply listening to the music of the city, you found the meditative state you entered in the park particularly divine. Spending all day cooped up in the house was not doing anyone any favors, and your mother insisted that you look at the sky, breathe in fresh air, or do something to get your energy out. And you enjoyed the respite from your family’s eyes and ears, and the view you caught of other people’s comings and goings. Often making up stories for the familiar faces that passed your eyes.

You had seen Mr. Solomons and his a dog before. It was hard to miss them. Both imposing. Even if Mr. Solomons wasn’t physically too tall, the air in which he carried himself made him seem absolutely monstrous. And the dog he walked along with came with a silent stature to match. When you mentioned to your mother that Mr. Solomons frequented your park, she all but forbid you to go to the park again. He was dangerous. A brute. Nothing good was associated with him. He was an animal. Damned.

Everyone in Camden had a story about Mr. Solomons. Even if they personally had never met him, they knew someone who knew someone who had crossed his path and suffered greatly. Fewer than those who crossed his path, were the women who had the pleasure of spending an evening with him. Demanding. Particular. Incredibly cross with hardly a smile crossing his firm mouth and creased brow. You had heard them all, many a time. And each time you heard the stories more fantastical and gory and outrageous they became. From the way the neighbors spoke of him, he might has well been an ogre who ate good men for supper. A confidant of the devil himself.

Yet those stories never deterred you from letting your eyes wander over to him when he made his way to the park. Surely observing doesn’t damn one’s soul right? And wondering if stories are true surely cannot condemn. Besides, he was never close enough to truly make a difference. A glance and gaze and thought were all that you experienced with the fearsome King of Camden. Until this afternoon, when that monstrous dog came charging at you with a gleeful and slobbery smile. And for whatever reason you never moved from your seat. You stayed planted on your spot on the bench, waiting for whatever was to come. And your supposed attack was merely a disgusting kiss to the neck and chin from the dog, and happy pants from it as well. It’s master, cursing and bellowing at hundred pound puppy who was uninterested in the threats of its flustered master.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the reddened face of Mr. Solomons, clearly out of breathe from the exertion of the sudden chase. “Mr. Solomons are you quite alright? Do you need to sit?”

“Hmm? No, no don’t worry about me angel, m’fine. This damn dog knows better than to run full force in a park. You alright love? Hope Cyril didn’t scare ya.”

You smiled warmly at him, and he was convinced he must have died in the chase and gone to Heaven. Your sweet eyes and tempting lips all too pretty to be here in Camden. You scratched Cyril’s ears before answering, "Oh no Mr. Solomons, I'm fine. Cyril here is very very sweet."

"Now treacle, I think I'm at a disadvantage. Don't like that at all me. Now how is it yeah, that you know my name and now my dog's name... but I don't get to know your name sweetness?"

With a quirked brow you answer, "Oh Mr. Solomons, everyone knows your name. The ferocious King of Camden, and his demon dog. Lots of tales about you Mr. Solomons.”

Alfie allowed himself a smile at your cheek, “Lots of stories eh? Which one is your favorite?”

“The one where you bested the devil himself in a game of chess and won the keys to hell.”

Alfie made himself comfortable next to you on the bench, making sure that his thigh touched yours, “Is that so? Your mum tell you that little one?”

You shook your head, “No sir. She told me I wasn’t to go near you.”

“And yet here you are, talking to bad men. Tsk tsk tsk. Naughty ain’t you?”

“It’s fun to be naughty sometimes. Don’t you agree Mr. Solomons?”

Alfie couldn’t help but bring his shiny rings to your cheek, taking stock of your face. You never flinched away, keeping fiery eyes locked on his. He hummed a tune you didn’t know, and stated, “There’s an opera tonight at 8. You’ll come with me. Wear something nice.”

“I don’t go to operas with strange men.”

“I don’t go to operas with strange women. Yet here we are sweet. I thought you liked being naughty.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his brazenness. In truth, you couldn’t believe you allowed yourself to get this far. But it was too delicious to let go now. “You’ll pick me up on the corner of 10th and Victoria? At 6pm.”

“Now what will I do with you for two hours before the play treacle?”

You shrugged, “Show me how the King of Camden has a good night.”

Alfie laughed heartily, “Fuck me you really are a bad little thing aren’t you. Alright sweetness, I’ll pick you up there at 6. And let’s see what we can get up to.”

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic

418 notes · View notes

s-4pphics · 1 year

Text

scent of the pine. 1 (e.w.)

omg i finally wrote something who woulda thought gosh golly damn hey yall whos gay around here

wc;cw: 9.6k mmmm, sistersbestfriend!ellie, guitarist/producer!ellie, violinist!oc, so many time skips and theyre not even done yet omg, queer duh, all ocs r black coded<3, mentions of underage smoking/drinking(nics n weed obv), partying, making out, blood(it’s fake but still), all tlou kids appear including *gasp* cat, lots of ocs theyre gonna thrive in later chaps, depression, anxiety, disassociation, crack(it’s not all bad yall laugh a little!!), mentions of therapy, uh yeah just alot of sad and drama, smut in later chaps🤭🤭

You have always been surrounded by music.

When you were born, your mother quieted your screams with song, holding you close to her chest and gently whispering words of affection and love into your ears while your three-year-old sister jumped in celebration for new life.

When you were two, your mother gave you your first ever violin toy. Your sister had taken a large interest in the flute at age four, saying that the whistling noises sounded like birdies! and she wanted to give you the same exposure. It could have been sheer luck or her maternal instincts, but you quickly became attached to it. It was small and inexpensive and hardly sounded like a violin, but its bright lights and animated face near the scratched, poorly painted F-holes entranced you like no other. You couldn’t stop fiddling with the red, blue, and green buttons across the body, and every time it played the same robotic instrumental, you waved your arms around with the biggest smile on your face, like you could fly away from elation. Your sister would sometimes jump in and blow into her months old pink recorder while the instrumental played from your toy, imagining you were a part of a world-renowned orchestra: the musical harmony between the two of you brought your mother joy.

When you turned three, your mom and sister invited over some of her friends to help make cupcakes topped with musical notes for your special day. You sat on the couch with your favorite toy in hand as the instrumental played, jumping up and down on the cushion from pure excitement. Your sister’s friends kept you entertained while your mother prepared dinner, banging together pots and pans with wooden spoons and dancing, imagining them as drums. All four of them made you laugh with jokes, sang to you—one of them even played a song on one of her miniature, bright green guitars— and allowed you to experience some of the joys of life through symphonic expression.

When you were four, your mother noticed differences in your behavior. She noted that you and your sister were polar opposites: she was outspoken, unapologetic, and animated, while you were shy, polite, and timid. You hardly ever spoke unless spoken to, and though no one around you judged you for it, your mother often wondered what went on in your head. Despite your lack of communication, she never doubted the fire inside you: she saw it in your eyes whenever you watched footage of some of the most famous names in the classical world play their hearts out. When you were five, she signed you up for violin lessons.

When your big sister turned eight, she and her friends' released screams of excitement when she revealed her very first flute. She jumped in excitement, —mostly out of relief that she wouldn't have to berate you and your mom with the shrilling bleats of her old, pink recorder— shrieking about how she and her friends should start a band as soon as possible.“How the hell would a trumpet player fit in a rock band, you idiot?” You remembered your sister's best friend, Ellie, saying quietly so your mother wouldn’t hear from the kitchen, earning a playful shove from Jesse, your next-door neighbor. The dark-haired girl, Dina—who lived two houses down and had a large obsession with slapping her mother’s keyboard in the middle of the night—bursted into a fit of giggles while pointing at the young boy, making him blush.

You were always very observant of your sister's friends. You didn’t have many opportunities to make some of your own due to your incessant need to isolate, so you managed with what you had. They intrigued you: they were loud, lively, and exuberant. They never shied away from demonstrating their talents to you or your mom, especially the green-eyed, auburn-haired girl that almost always had her father’s black acoustic guitar strapped around her small frame on the three-block walk to your house. You remembered when she brought the guitar to school to play for the other students during lunch time, which landed her in after-school detention after she scolded one of her teachers for confiscating it, claiming that they were “limiting creative expression” and telling them to “screw themselves”.

When Ellie’s father, Joel, came to pick up your sister's friends from her party, Ellie jokingly pinched your side and threw you a quick see ya, squirt! while her and her two friends laughed and waved their way out of your front door. Your face ran hot as you watched them—her—leave. You didn’t get to reply before they ran down your porch in a heap of giggles. Watch the road, nuggets! I don’t have life insurance! You remembered Joel calling out to them as they sprinted across the street.

When you turned eight years old, your mother gave you your very first authentic violin and bow, the black case wrapped in glittery, floral paper. As usual, your sister and her friends grabbed and shook your shoulders out of excitement and anticipation of seeing you play since they never have, which you politely declined. You have always shied away from revealing your natural talent due to your scalding fear of embarrassment, resulting in only your mother and violin teacher knowing your abilities. You blushed as your sister, Jesse, and Dina pressed on, pleading that you play at least a couple of chords for them, causing Ellie to playfully come to your defense with a high-spirited squeal of she’s shy, you heathens! leave her be before I kick all your asses!

From that moment on, you always looked up to Ellie and her comfortability with herself. You never thought that you would meet someone more confident than your sister, but Ellie had her beat for miles. Regardless of where she was or what she did, she moved with a confidence that you only dreamt of having at that age. You wanted so desperately to mimic her, but that annoying voice of doubt never failed to remind you of your place. You made sure your light was dimmed, always.

When your sister was twelve, she began to take music very seriously. She went from two flute sessions a week to five, only to return home and play some more. She’d even performed in some of her school's recitals (she vomited across the stage during her first performance, but a victory is a victory). You watched your mother scold her about not completing her homework as she stood practicing in the living room while you silently ate your dinner, which led to her half-heartedly completing her assignments with a frown on her face. Over the next year and a half, your sister's scolding started to get more intense as her grades dropped. She was never much of a scholar, but she never let her grades slip under as much as they had then. Although her music teacher was sending her home with nothing but praises after every lesson, your mom often received letters in the mail from your sister's school saying that her performance was concerning. You’d heard your mother reprimand her countless times, saying you’re not going to survive high school like this! look at what you’re doing! while your sister claimed I know exactly what I’m doing, I want to be better! I’m following my dreams! why aren’t you proud of me? They had exchanged more harsh words until you heard your sister's door slam shut and your mothers silently resigned to her room in defeat.

You heard your sister’s cries through your shared wall for a while, until a gentle voice—Ellie’s, you recognized—consoled her and told her to calm down until her whimpers silenced. You knew she had a habit of secretly climbing up into your sister's window to hang out when your mom didn’t allow company over, but you didn’t know that she also always showed up when your sister needed another source of comfort. You slowly got up and left your room, silently walking down the hall until you reached your sister's door. You wanted to knock and see if she was okay, but before you could do so, the door opened and out walked Ellie, clad in her usual dark jeans and T-shirt, bracelets covering her wrists in mass, and dirty, scuffed chucks and socks in hand. She jumped slightly when she witnessed someone waiting behind the door, but instantly relaxed when she realized it was you.

“Hey, squirt. Why are you creepin’ behind the door like that?” She whispered with a small chuckle, gently shutting your sister’s door.

“Sorry.” You whispered back. “I heard her crying and I wanted to check on her. How is she?”

“She’ll be fine. She got a headache and fell asleep. I was just tucking her in, don’t worry.” She gently said, looking down at you. “I was just about to head out. Mind lockin’ the front door for me?”

“Why don’t you just leave out the window again?”

She snorted before she asked, “Dude, do you know how hard it is to climb down that rickety ass ladder you guys have outside? I almost broke my neck climbing down that thing in that storm last month.”

You quietly laughed alongside her while she bent down to put her socks back on. “What are you doing up anyway? It’s late and you have class tomorrow.”

“So do you.” You said, raising an accusatory brow at her. “Plus, I'm not tired, I’m bored.”

“I’m not tired”, she said mockingly. “What do you wanna do right now?”

“Don’t you have to be home soon?”

She waited a second before a mischievous smirk creeped on her face, “Yeah, but who cares. C’mon.”

She grabbed your wrist before quickly pulling you back into your room and gently shutting the door behind you. She took note of your room: pink and purple everything. Your walls were drenched in white and pink stripes with giant, iridescent, butterfly stickers, your bedspread had small specks of glitter sprinkled across it, which shimmered from your pink and green fairy lamp. You had a small tv propped up on your dresser, which was covered in fairy and Disney princess stickers, at the front of your room. She couldn’t help but snicker at the mountain of plushies that crowded your bed and nightstand. However, she halted when she noticed a small glass case that held two violins with their bows. She recognized the first one: a gift from your mother on your eighth birthday that had lost some shine, and another, much glossier and more tuned than the latter. It looked barely used. A small burst of joy exploded in her chest at the thought of you playing even though she had never seen it. She was happy to know that your love for music still lived.

“Your room’s cute, dude, it’s making my skin crawl like crazy, holy fuck,” she said with a soft laugh, leaning back against your door.

“Don’t make fun of me, you freakin' metalhead! It’s pretty in here and I like it,” you said begrudgingly, “Your room's scary!”

She let out a loud laugh before she acknowledged your glass-guarded instruments, “You still play?”

She nodded towards your protected instruments. You nodded from your bed and excitedly said, “Yeah, come sit! I never had a slumber party before!”

You spent the night quietly watching Peter Pan, gossiping about how in love you were with him and how you wished you could fly. Ellie silently watched you talk with curious, wide eyes as you went on tangent after tangent. You talked about movies you loved and boys you liked (which she playfully gagged at), and music you liked to listen to when you were sad, and she internalized all of it. She had never seen this side of you before, but she was so intrigued that she didn’t notice her own intensity in her own eyes. You just kept going and going before you abruptly stopped, the brightness in your eyes dimming slightly as you looked at her.

“Sorry for talking a lot,” you said, embarrassed. “Am I annoying?”

“‘Course not, squirt,” she said confused, but immediately. “Why the hell would you think that?”

You didn’t say anything, but her affirmation reignited the fire in your eyes as your rambles started up again. She let you talk until you sloppily fell asleep across your pillows and plushies, tv still quietly playing in the background. She gently got up from her position, careful not to wake you, pulled your blankets over your frame, and stealthily left through your sister’s window. She made her way back home, envisioning you playing your violin for her one day.

Ellie became the person that you turned to whenever you needed reassurance. She’d never failed at making you feel acknowledged and seen and heard.

Age thirteen was the first time you anticipated the summer. Middle school had been a very disconnected period for you, and though many of your peers had experienced a sense of helplessness through these trine times of adolescence, yours was slowly overtaking your ability to feel excitement for anything. You had become so detached to the world around you and that annoying, discouraging voice had only spurred on your distance. This dark state that you entered caused you to separate from everyone, including your own family. Your last day of eighth grade was the giddiest you had felt in a long time, and you couldn’t wait to get back to your place of solitude—home.

Your sister entered her element in high school. Much to your mother’s delight, she was able to find a balance between fulfilling her dreams as a musical prodigy while staying afloat academically.

You had been attending your violin lessons for eight years, and though you were blessed with your musical perception, —according to your teacher—you never played in front of an audience. Though your teacher was eager to put you in the children’s orchestra that he trained, your mother did not want to push you into something you weren’t ready for, so she'd always decline politely.

In July, Dina invited you and your sister over to a pool party. Her parents were going to be out for the weekend, and she thought that it’d be the perfect time to be reckless. When you and your sister walked in with your towels and snacks in hand, she greeted you both with an excited squeal, beckoning you both to the backyard. Ellie, Dina’s older sister, Talia, and a few older girls that you didn’t recognize, were already in the water, splashing and laughing.

“Look who just arrived, cunts! My babies, my angels, the lights of my life— “

“Ay, shut the fuck up!” the blonde-haired girl yelled with a grin, causing Dina to flip her off and the others to laugh.

You modestly held your folded towel in your hand, smiling at their interaction. Your sister had already discarded her towel, shorts, and flip flops on a random beach chair before she cannonballed into the pool, causing everyone to swear and splash her. Dina then jumped in right behind her with a shout. They all blended so well, and you curled into yourself. Maybe you should go—

“Get over here, squirt! It’s hot as fuck out here,” Ellie shouted out with a smile, before a girl in a black bikini playfully jumped on her back, planting a light kiss on her shoulder. Something unfamiliar panged in your chest, but you nodded and slipped off your flip flops before making your way over to the pool stairs, slowly submerging yourself into the water.

“You’re still calling her squirt like she’s four, cut it out already,” Dina called out with a snort before she addressed you.

“I’m not sure if your sister ever mentioned anything about these losers but they’re some friends from school, that’s Cat, Abby, and Riley,” she said and pointed them out, “and they’re really fucking annoying—

“Shut the hell up before I drown you,” said Abby with a straight face.

“Yeah, keep talking to me like that— “

“ANYWAYS,” Ellie interrupted, “We missed you kid, where ya been?”

“Just at home, nothing crazy. I’m glad to finally be out, though.” I think I’m depressed, please don’t notice.

“She’s lying, I nearly had to drag her ass outta bed by her feet to detangle her hair this morning,” your sister corrected with an over dramatic eye roll.

“I’m just tired,” you said meekly. “School was hard these past two weeks.”

“I bet it was! Literally no one ever talks about how crazy middle school is! I damn near backflipped off the stage at our promotion,” Riley commented with a head shake, making Abby aggressively nod her head in agreement.

As the side conversations continued, your attention was overtaken by Ellie, who had moved to the opposite side of the pool to whisper something into the short-haired girl’s—Cat, who hasn’t acknowledged you yet—ear, which made her giggle and half-heartedly push Ellie away. The green-eyed girl didn’t budge, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist, pulling her closer and, much to your surprise, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Cat had a tight grip on Ellie’s olive-green rash guard as she held her and shared soft whispers that you wished you heard. Was that her girlfriend? you thought. You knew Ellie liked girls due to her almost two-year long crush on Riley, which she confided in you and your sister about when she was fourteen. She had wildly knocked on your sister’s window in the middle of the night with a tear-stained face, frantically pacing and claiming that something was wrong with her.

Why the fuck do I want to kiss her and hold her hand whenever I see her?

This is bad, this is really really bad, guys, something’s wrong!

What do I do, how do I stop this!

You had never seen her so defeated, and her wet cheeks and scared eyes made your chest hurt with a sharp stab. Your sister had pulled her into a tight hug and quietly hummed a tune in her ear to soothe her sobs, while you gently rubbed her back and told her that she was going to be okay. She ended up staying the night, dozing off while holding one of your sister’s stuffed animals close to her chest while the two of you held her from both sides. You and your sister hadn’t slept in the same bed since she was six.

As the party slowly died down and Talia, who snuck away to her room much earlier, beckoned everyone inside with a get outta the pool you freaks! you’re gonna prune! from the back door, you all resigned inside to rinse off and change clothes before heading to the living room to watch a scary movie. You silently smacked on your sour gummy worms on the lone lounge chair as you watched Abby, Riley, and your sister cower behind pillows to block the screen while Dina snored loudly, while Cat and Ellie snuggled on a lounge chair. She had her chin propped up on the dark-haired girl’s head to see the screen while she rubbed her back.

As the film progressed, you saw the couple making small movements out of the corner of your eye. Cat began to subtly plant soft kisses on her cheek, neck, and shoulder, causing the auburn-haired girl to smirk, moving her head to the side to give her more access. You saw Ellie pull her girlfriend’s shirt up slightly, rubbing the exposed skin on her hip. You seemed to be the only one who noticed as the girls on the other couch squealed at another jump scare. Ellie and her girlfriend shared a more intense kiss, and you saw a glistening tongue poke out. That made you avert your gaze and you blushed, embarrassed that you were catching such an intimate moment. You quickly got up with a quick excuse of I gotta pee, making your way to the bathroom down the hall. Your face was boiling, and your heart pounded in your chest as you soaked your hands with icy water before wiping them down your face, that voice in the back of your head asking what the fuck your problem was.

You slowly looked up at your reflection in the mirror to center yourself, but your vision started to blur, and hands began to shake. You tried to take deep breaths; you tried you tried you tried but the air left your lungs as quickly as it entered.

Breathe, breathe breathebreathebreathe—

You jumped at the soft knock on the bathroom door, and you ripped it open without hesitation, revealing a concerned Ellie, Dina, and sibling, reaching out and asking if you were okay. How long were you there? You couldn’t speak or breathe or see so you swiftly shook your head no nonono—

Ellie and your sister guided you back to the living room and onto the couch. Ellie squatted down to your eye level, grabbing your face in her warm hands while your sister rubbed your back and Dina held your hand. The other girls’ expressions had been pulled down in concern as they watched your smaller frame tremble.

“Hey squirt, can you do me a favor? Can you breathe with me?”

“Cmon, deep breath in and hold it with me, follow me okay?” Ellie instructed. Your mimicked breaths were choked and broken, but she nodded her head at you in encouragement anyway, gently whispering a that’s it every time you shakily exhaled.

All the girls remained silent but attentive, allowing Ellie to control the situation. Riley had even gone to the kitchen to snag you a glass of water that she set on the coffee table. You tried to match Ellie’s breaths with yours, holding, in and out, holding, in and out, and you eventually calmed down. There was silence for a few minutes before Dina spoke.

“How do you feel, hun? You okay to talk now?” she asked softly while gently caressing your hand. You didn’t know how to answer, so you meekly nodded your head yes.

“Tell us what’s been going on with you. You’ve been so… MIA lately,” your friend noted, cringing slightly at her choice of words.

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong, I don’t know what… what’s happening to me—

“Shh, it’s alright, we’re gonna handle it, just try to relax for now. We’re leaving in a little, anyway,” your sister comforted. You felt Ellie’s calloused fingers gently rub your knee soothingly. You just wanted to lay down.

After some more hugs and forehead smooches from Dina, you and your sister packed up your things and headed home. You weren’t aware, but Ellie met your sister’s eyes with an intense gaze, quietly instructing her before you both left, (“You need to watch her tonight, do you understand? You watch her until tomorrow and you tell your mom what happened the second you get a chance”) which she immediately agreed to.

Your sister had held your hand tightly as you both made your way to your front porch. Your sister pulled out her semiquaver keychain, unlocking the door and quietly trudged inside. Your home was dark, meaning that your mother had already been in bed. Your sister hadn’t released the tight grip of your hand the entire trek upstairs. She opened her bedroom door, silently pulling you inside and made her way over to her dresser. She gave you a giant T-shirt to change into as she put her bonnet on. You both brushed your teeth and washed your face before heading over to her bed. You laid down facing each other, tucked under the blankets. You both looked at each other in silence, but she broke it.

“I want you to tell me why that happened, no bullshit.”

You didn’t reply. You were tired.

“Please tell me what’s wrong.” She pressed on. You noted the desperation in her eyes. Your heart was hurting.

Silence.

Her eyes shut in defeat before she turned her back to you. Your eyes burned into the worn shirt she wore. Just say it, the voice in your head screamed at you, tell her how worthless you are!

Silence.

And then an exhale.

“I think I need to talk to someone.”

You did not expect the rest of your summer to be filled with therapy sessions and journal entries. When your sister told your mother about the events of that night, much to your dismay, she immediately made some phone calls and scheduled sessions twice a week. You had to pause your violin sessions for a few weeks, and you missed it, but you knew this was more important. Your mother expressed her remorse for not paying closer attention to your behavior. Your distance, your lack of energy, your reluctance to speak, your silence—God, your silence. You were screaming without a word. She felt that she’d failed you, and she wanted to do as much as she could to reignite that light in your eyes.

You hadn’t looked forward to these meetings in the beginning, but you soon grew to like your therapist. Even though your feelings were confusing and unfamiliar to you, she was in no rush to get answers out of you. She allowed you to speak at your own pace and listened to every minor detail. She concluded that your self-doubt has bubbled over into anxiety: she recommended you journaling. She wanted you to document one thing that you loved about yourself everyday (“It can be anything: appearance, personality, talents. Whatever you wish. Just make sure you mean it”).

And so, you did.

The next month flew by, the last bits of summer slowly easing into fall, and you were going to start your first year of high school. Your mother and sister had noticed a slight change in your behavior during your break: you started eating dinner with them instead of in your room, asked how their day went, what their week looked like. Your sister would ramble about how stressed she was for her last year but also how excited she was to perform with the school’s orchestra at the December recital and, for the first time in what felt like forever, you rambled back. Your mother had listened from the kitchen as you two gossiped, argued, and even planned to play music together in the future. Her heart swelled. You also started hanging out with Dina, Ellie, Jesse, and your sister a lot more: one night, you followed them back to Joel and Ellie’s garage to watch them freestyle on some of his used instruments. Jesse, who babbled to you about his new love for drumming, demonstrated some techniques he had adapted from Joel on his old drum set while your sister nodded her head along to the beats he made. Dina was already improvising on their brand new sixty-one key keyboard, headphones on to tune out the noise the four of you were making. Ellie, who had stepped away to answer her girlfriend’s call, had her father’s bright green, electric bullet mustang strapped around her chest. She noticed you staring and sent you a thumbs up, you giving one back. She sent you a wink and a smile before turning away to continue her conversation. Your heartbeat increased.

Ellie had become much more attentive after that night at the party. She had always been protective of you, but her desire to talk to you increased tenfold. She would text you fried memes in the middle of the night or leave voice memos about how her dad was helping her customize his old electric guitar. She chattered about wanting to record the entire process for all of you to see.

i feel like if i help my dad with anything he’ll wring my neck :| he’s so particular abt instruments it’s annoying

that sucks :( but at least he cares!! he’s just passionate and wants u to play the best.

he gave it to ME tho. the guitar is mine now!! i should have some input on how it looks be on my side!!! >:/

i am!! just be patient with him. ur gonna be shredding w it soon enough :D

And she also never failed to check in on you for more serious matters, either. She never pressed for information, not wanting to overstep, but she always ensured that you had a safe space to discuss anything you wanted with her. After some of your meetings, you would already have a text from her asking how your session went and what you learned. You would send her voice memos about some of your therapist’s pointers about communication and how you were trying to improve that skill for your family, especially your mom. She also provided some advice about what helped her regain her footing in conversation, joking that no one could ever get me to shut the hell up at the end of the day! that’s for damn sure.

Ellie wasn’t aware, but you started writing about her in your journal, as well. Small, little excerpts of what you liked about her and how she made you feel. How caring she was. How she made your heart beat fast whenever she was around. How strong she felt when she pulled you in for a tight hug while whispering about how she missed you—

Oh.

You were helpless… and gay.

It was late into November. You were fourteen and elated.

Not only had you slowly eased back into music, but you had friends. That you made on your own. You knew that your sister and her friends didn’t want to drag you along everywhere they went, both on and off campus, so you began to explore other paths by yourself. Swiftly after the school year started, you joined the campus orchestra, and while you were terrified, you were excited. Impassioned. Hopeful.

There were all types of groups that passed through the practice room. Students of all grades hung out, ate, and studied there: you were shocked at the number of students that lounged in the designated nerd hotspot during their free time. This is nothing like the movies, you had thought. You noted that the room was not as busy on Thursdays during lunch, and you thought it would be a good time to tune out the outside world and throw yourself into music again. One Thursday, you walked in on a group of juniors whispering and giggling about something you couldn’t hear. You looked around and noticed one of the girls from your biology class—Arya, you remembered—pushed off into a corner by herself, on her knees and hurriedly shoving her things into her backpack. She looked upset.

She looked sad.

The juniors had been talking about her.

You had your violin case and lunch in hand as you slowly made your way past the juniors and in front of her. You noticed her tear-stained cheeks shining under the white light of the room as you got closer. You softly greeted her, making her jump and eyes harden.

“Hey, Arya, you alright?” You whispered, squatting down to her level.

“What do you think,” She whispered back harshly, continuing to shove her books into her pack. “Does it look like I’m alright? If you’re here to laugh you can honestly fuck off.”

You’d flinched at her tone but pressed on. “I didn’t walk all the way here to laugh at you. Let's go somewhere else, we can eat together, if you want!”

You could tell she had questioned your enthusiasm. She looked at you skeptically before looking behind you, at the juniors, and then back at you. You didn’t budge. She slowly rose to her feet, swung her backpack over her shoulder, grabbed her instrument case from the floor—hm, clarinet— and softly nodded. You both leaving caused the juniors to laugh harder.

You didn’t care.

You and Arya have done everything together since that day. She was eager to introduce you to her two friends, Starr and Kris, who you clicked with immediately. The second they sat you down, they raged about how much they hated the writers of Vampire Diaries due to how they treated Kat Graham, how they joked about hating talented people like you and Arya, what they wanted their future weddings to look like (Kris and her Pinterest boards), and you laughed.

You were calm.

You were happy.

Your first year of high school flew by.

Your sister earned her flute solo at the December recital, earning a standing ovation from the audience of students and parents. You and your mother screamed the loudest for her.

At Dina’s eighteenth birthday party, you, Ellie, and your sister walked in on her and Jesse tonguing each other down in the kitchen. Ellie let out a hardy laugh of are you fuckers serious! right in front of my salad? while your sister fell to the floor in hysterics. You had shielded your eyes.

April came around and so did prom season. Your sister said that she had been anticipating the event since seventh grade and you, your mom, and Dina were dragged along to her fitting. She had texted Ellie to come, but she swiftly declined, claiming that she couldn’t hide my fat dick in a dress! love you tho! buy me an elf bar? :3

You missed her so much.

On the evening of prom, your sister, Dina, Jesse, and Ellie all pitched in to rent a limo. Your sister, gorgeous as always, was draped in a strapless, floral gown that cinched her waist and bloomed at her hips and her twists were pinned up to show her neckline and back. Dina wore a flowy, black dress with a leg slit. Ellie and Jesse were dressed to a T in classic black suits, him in loafers and her in beat up Vans with her usual messy, low bun.

Your parents had all met at Joel’s house for pictures and semi-alcoholic drinks. You were touching up your sister’s makeup at Ellie’s desk in her room when you felt too familiar hands pinch your sides with a soft, hey squirt. You jumped, almost mussing up your sister’s liner, causing her to kick the hell out of Ellie’s calf. She feigned an ache before hitting her mint elf bar, blowing it away from both of your faces.

“Don’t fucking play with me right now bitch, I mean it, this is serious business,” your sister had said to her.

“Oh shut the hell up, it’s three hours of musty people dancing, it’s not that serious,” Ellie said before turning to you, “Check your sister, dude.”

“El, please shut up,” you said to her. “Just hold still, I'm almost done, god you’re both annoying!”

You worked as quickly as you could, slightly smudging the liner on her waterline until you were satisfied, “…aaaand done. Tell me how it looks right quick.”

She inspected her appearance, pressing on her baby hairs before turning and giving you a fat smooch, “Thank you baby! It’s perfect, now move, I gotta piss before we go.”

Your sister jumped up from Ellie’s chair, holding her dress up while flipping her off and lightly sprinting down the hall to the bathroom, which left you both giggling.

A bored Ellie had made her way over to her bed while you worked, laid out across it, silently puffing on her nic before saying, “I don’t know how you deal with her sometimes.”

“Me neither, honestly,” you replied, smiling. “Where’s Cat?”

“Somewhere being annoying. We had an argument last night.”

“Yikes, sorry I asked.”

She sat up before shrugging, beckoning you to sit next to her in the bed, “You’re good. She felt a way about my promposal. She went off about me not putting that much effort into the sign I made and waiting until the last minute to ask. It was petty.”

You snorted with a head shake as you watched her breathe menthol out her nose.

“Don’t laugh at my shortcomings! Wait ‘til you get a boyfriend, he’s gonna forget about prom too! It’s dumb.”

You froze. Boyfriend. Boyfriend? You laughed sheepishly with another shake of your head. She noticed your reaction before you could even reply. She smirked in acknowledgement.

“… or partner. Your partner might forget.” She quietly corrected with a sly grin.

“If you say anything I’ll strangle you and burn your corpse.”

“Oh my fucking god, did you forget that I lived in the closet for almost five years straight?! You’re fine.”

She took another puff before asking, “Anybody steal your heart yet?”

“Please be serious, I haven’t even had my first kiss yet. How do you even talk to girls without dying?” You said with a pout.

She almost fell over as she giggled. “You talk to girls like you talk to everyone else, you’re gonna charm them regardless. Trust me.”

You felt your face heat up at the subtle compliment, but you gave her an eye roll and light shove before your sister came trucking down the hallway with her heels in hand. She shrieked out a limo’s here! before flying down the stairs. Ellie took one more long puff of her pale green vape before tucking it into her jacket pocket, wrapping her arms around your smaller frame as she guided you downstairs.

She smelled like mint menthol and pine trees. You loved how she smelled.

Summer came, and you’d fully accepted your big, fat crush on Ellie.

Your journal had been riddled with doodles of her name surrounded by hearts and sparkles, written words of affection through poetry, more hearts and sparkles. You couldn’t stop thinking about her: everything that she said, everything she did, did something to you. But you didn’t know that the fluttering in your chest whenever she was around would be short lived.

Your sister had spent her eighteenth birthday at Cat’s family lake house. As much as you wanted to be a fly on the wall and watch your sister go crazy, you had to settle with viewing her private story from your warm bed on Friday night. It was a mess: she had posted multiple snaps of Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and herself taking shot after shot, chug after chug, until she posted a photo of Jesse’s head hanging out of a second story window with Dina’s hand on his back and Ellie cheesing wide with her two thumbs up, nic in hand. Her next snap, however, made your smile drop from your face.

The footage was a close—too close—up shot of Ellie and Cat making out against the wall. Ellie had her girlfriend trapped between her and the wood, both hands cradling her face as she dominated the kiss. She was grinding her hips up to meet the dark-haired girl’s, pressing her body further into the wall. Ellie then dropped her hands to her girlfriend’s hips, grabbing her short dress in her larger hands to pull her even closer. You barely noticed due to the shakiness of the camera, but you saw the pink glisten of your good friend's tongue swiping up into her girl's mouth before the snap ended.

You'd nearly dropped your phone on your face.

The clip had been hilarious out of context: the loud booming of clap clap clap that ass bitch, shake that cameltoe, lemme see them pussy lips! with your sister screaming and shaking like crazy in the background, Jesse behind the couple hurling his guts out of a window, and his concerned girlfriend pouting with a turquoise bong and lighter in her hand. Anyone would’ve found it comedic gold, but you?

Your stomach had twisted uncomfortably, not only from jealousy, but from a burning, swirling heat.

You dropped your phone on your bed and sat up as angry tears blurred your vision. You knew her and her girlfriend had been on and off for a while now, so why did it affect you so deeply to see them together? How stupid could you be? you thought she wanted you after all this time? a voice that you hadn’t heard in a while said to you. You’d recognized that tremor in your hands and pick-up of your heart, and you knew that you couldn’t be alone tonight. You sent a quick SOS text to your friends in the group chat, desperately seeking comfort. Arya, ever the angel, was the first to respond with a quick and simple omw rn, stealing her brother’s car keys to pick up Kris and Starr and flew straight to your house.

The girls held you while you sobbed, gently shushing you and encouraging you to take deep breaths.

Breathe with me, squirt, there ya go.

You wished that voice didn’t sound so much like hers.

Your sister and her friends had returned home Sunday night, hungover and exhausted like hell. You hadn’t moved from your bed all weekend, and you hadn’t wanted to get up to help her drag her bags in. You immediately recognized the laughter that came from downstairs, and your heart shook painfully in your chest. Their voices were muffled due to your door being shut, but you heard a cheerful I’ll go get her leave your sister’s mouth before the sound of her rushed footsteps flooded the quiet hallway.

You quickly flipped over so your back faced the door, your blanket thrown over your body as you pretended to sleep.

You heard your door open, some shuffling, before it was gently shut again. You listened to your sister shuffle back downstairs and you heard a faint she’s slumped…. tomorrow or something…

Their chatter and laughter continued into the night while you moped in your room. Your phone had pinged around eleven, a pop-up of sleep well, squirt:3 on your home screen.

You turned your phone off and threw it on your nightstand, shutting your eyes, praying for sleep to come.

You dreamt of green and pine trees.

You had begun your sophomore year, and your friends had been a good distraction from the inner turmoil of your heart. During the last bits of your vacation, Ellie had been texting you non-stop, eager to play you the completed version of a song she’d been working on for the past five months. She’d even finished customizing her father’s passed down electric guitar: you only knew because you frequently checked her Instagram, despite the ache you felt in your chest when you saw the posts of her and her girlfriend doing cute couple shit. Her guitar had been airbrushed raven black with silver strings, and a detailed white and green skull that she painted on the body. She’d sent you and your sister the entire video of her creation as promised, but you'd only replied with a dry thumbs up emoji. Her suspicions were correct: something serious was going on with you.

After your sister’s birthday weekend in July, Ellie texted you multiple times to come help her and Dina mix a song and watch movies, but you politely declined saying that you were busy and maybe another time :)! It technically wasn’t a lie: your sister came to your defense when she asked where you were, saying that your trigonometry grade had dropped significantly after your first test, and you were desperate to get it up before your mother noticed. She had accepted that excuse for the first two weeks, but after your sixth reply of busy :( rain check? she got agitated.

She started pressing your sister about your attitude after the first month without your knowledge, but she swiftly got brushed off with a dude, she's studying at her friend's house, can you relax and pack this bowl for me please?

Ellie laid in her bed after her hotbox with her friends, confused as to why you were acting so stiff with her so suddenly. Whenever she came over to your house, you locked yourself in your room and didn’t come out to greet her for whatever reason. She had been this close to marching to your house and kicking your bedroom door down herself before she received a notification that you had updated your private story. She clicked it, and played a video of one of your friends with a flyswatter in hand yelling about how she was a world-renowned mosquito killer until the bug started flying around the unfamiliar room. Multiple shrieks, including yours, were heard before the video abruptly ended.

Ellie swiped up on your story with a quick LOOOOOOL, but she wasn’t laughing. I guess she really was busy doing something, she thought. She felt bad for assuming that you had been purposefully avoiding her, but she was not used to you being unavailable. She was a clingy high, sue her.

She clicked her phone off and hoped she would see you soon.

Ellie’s eighteenth birthday had been two weeks away.

Her birthday never felt like her own; Her dad had always made a big deal about the celebration. He spent hours blowing up balloons for her eleventh, baking cupcakes(even though he nearly burned their entire house down) for her fourteenth, and bragged to the cashier at the vinyl shop about how much of an old soul his baby girl was(“Oh this isn’t for me, my daughter is obsessed with the oldies, I really rubbed off on her, she’s turning sixteen tomorrow and I wanna surprise her!”). She’d never complained, though. She’d never say, but she loved seeing him happy more than anything in the world.

However, her attitude towards her eighteenth birthday had been different. She was eager to celebrate her transition into adulthood with the people she loved the most. She knew that she wanted a slasher themed party with blood and gore everywhere. Her inner horror movie fan had been gasping for water for years, and she was finally going to quench her thirst.

Call her Jason.

You and your sister were arguing about who would dress up as Scream.

Ellie had given your sister an invitation to her big eighteenth, and although you were reluctant about going, your guilt had slowly been gnawing at you. The last message that Ellie sent you was almost three weeks ago: a simple miss u, which you left unread. You thought it was strange how no one acknowledged the tension between the two of you, but you hardly understood it yourself, and you began to feel remorseful.

You owed her an apology, and you planned to do it tonight.

“You’re not dressing up as Scream, bitch, I’m sorry! I got you this Jack the Ripper cape, try it on.” she said as she threw the cape and top hat on your bed.

“Jack the Ripper was racist, fact— “

“Most serial killers are! It’s for aesthetic purposes only! There’s no such thing as a moral compass on Halloween.”

You stared at her with a blank expression, before she resigned, retrieving the fit, “Ugh, fine, go as one of the most iconic slashers in film history, see if I give a damn.”

“Waaaaaa, you mad.” You said with a laugh.

She yelled back a DUH! as she marched down the hall and into the bathroom to change. Your mom wasn’t supportive of the slasher costume party, but she stood no chance against your sister’s persuasive pout and googly eyes.

An hour later, you both were dressed with your gifts in hand as your mother locked the door behind you. You couldn’t begin to imagine the reaction of your neighbors if they peeped out of their windows since Halloween wasn’t for another two weeks. They better not call the fucking cops, that's all I know! your sister shouted out into the quiet neighborhood before you shushed her.

Despite the anxiety in the pit of your stomach, you were eager to see Ellie. You and your sister had pitched in to get custom-made, embroidered guitar pics as her gift: you were hoping that she liked them.

It wasn’t long before you made it onto the Miller residence. Your sister scaled the stairs of their front porch like it was a mountain before banging on the door. It shot open seconds later and revealed Dina, dressed as Freddy Krueger, and Jesse as… Saw.

That mask always made an uncomfortable shiver go down your spine.

They both pulled you and your sister into tight hugs before pulling you further inside to shut the door. The entire downstairs area was lit with red LED lights with faux cobwebs spread across the kitchen and living room walls. You and your sister almost slipped on the fake blood that was splattered all over the wooden floor. There was a giant bowl of tooth-rotting chocolate and a bag of sour gummies on the counter, right next to the multitude of Jason figurines. There was also eerie music playing from Ellie’s speaker near the TV.

You couldn’t believe you had a crush on this loser.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD IM SO FUCKING EXCITED THIS IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN HOLY SHIT— “

Your sister, then Dina, had already been trucking back up the stairs, as they released excited squeals, which only ignited more excited squeals from other voices you barely recognized.

Jesse threw his arms around you as he pulled you inside.

“Bro, where the fuck have you been, I haven’t seen you in ages!” He said, voice muffled under his mask and over the bass from the speakers.

“I know, I’m sorry, school is crazy right now, but I’m here now,” you said with a smile and just as muffled, walking over to the counter to rip open the sour gummy bag. “Are we supposed to be upstairs or something?”

“Nah, Cat and Riley, you remember Riley, are finishing up their costumes. They really went all out with the decor though, I was impressed.”

Your smile fell at the mention of her girlfriend, and you immediately knew that you weren’t going to have fun. You lifted your mask up to shove candied worms into your mouth in attempts to center yourself.

After ten minutes of ravishing the tart candies on the kitchen barstool, you heard quick, heavy footsteps descend the stairs.

You turned to see Ellie, Abby, Dina, Riley, Cat, and your sister descend the stairs, jumping excitedly at your get-up, laughing at your mask. You barely had the chance to stand from your seat and greet everyone before Ellie pushed past them to pull you into a rib-cracking hug. You could hardly move to return the gesture.

“I missed you so much, squirt, holy shit,” she whispered into your ear. You would’ve dropped to your knees if it wasn’t for her grip. “Where have you been, are you doing okay?”

She pulled back slightly to look at your face while both your masks were atop your heads, and you got a good look at her freckled appearance. Her hair was styled in a half bun with multicolored bobby pins holding her bangs back. She was wearing light makeup: her nose and cheeks were gently highlighted, her under eyes had a dark red tinted liner that was smudged with purpose, and she shaved a slit into her eyebrow. She had on a black T-shirt that had been cut and ripped in some parts, black, ripped jeans, and an oversized, dark olive-green flannel. The sleeves were rolled up and you damn near fainted at the subtle lines of an unfinished tattoo peeking out. She also had a plastic version of Jason’s large, bloody machete secured through the belt loop of her jeans.

Holy shit.

Your face was burning hot from how close her face was to yours. “Hi El, I’m fine, happy birthday,” you said quietly, half chewing the worms in your mouth.

You turned to grab her small, wrapped gift box off the counter, softly shoving it into her chest in attempts to distract her from pressing about your whereabouts, and though you noticed her eyebrows pull down in concern, she grabbed the box from your hands before replying a gentle thank you.

Your sister slapped Ellie on the back, breaking up the moment, begging to change the music genre before dragging her to the living room to unlock her phone.

I can’t shake ass to this shit, bitch! Change it now!

I NEED A ONE DANCE, GOT A HENNESSY IN MY HAND—

It was almost eleven. Everyone had migrated to the living room after Ellie finally turned off her summoning demons :0 playlist and allowed your sister to shuffle Spotify’s Top 40 from 2016. After Riley skipped every non-Rihanna song for the first thirty minutes, Abby snatched the phone from her hands and put Drake on. They both were on top of the couch, screaming into wooden spoons like they were microphones while Jesse, Dina, and your sister jokingly popped their backs.

You had fallen back onto a lounge chair to catch your breath from the rigorous jumping you were doing, watching them all sing their lungs out.

You had the opportunity to briefly speak to Abby, who dressed up as a bloody Esther, during Riley’s incessant song-skipping since you never had the chance to genuinely talk to her. She excitedly told you about how she and Riley had been best friends since fifth grade and they both met Ellie in middle school. She cringed when she reminisced on the memory of Ellie giving Riley a glitter-riddled macaroni card for Valentine’s Day in seventh grade. Abby and Riley both graduated a year before your sister and friends did and were sophomores at Boston University, her pursuing her hockey career and Riley studying neuroscience.

The shrilling screams of Dina, Abby, and your sister when Single Ladies blasted through the speakers made you jump in your seat before you got up and made your way into the kitchen for water (and more gummies). Babe you’re not single! you heard Jesse yell to Dina.

You stood at the counter chomping on the sweets, contemplating when would be the best time to speak to Ellie one-on-one. You'd seen her escape onto the back patio, probably to smoke, you thought. You had never been confrontational, and you didn’t want to say something you regretted like hi ellie i’ve been in love with you for years i’m so sorry for ignoring you and iloveyouiloveyou—

Yeah, you’d probably leave with a black eye from her girlfriend if you did that. Just say you're sorry, don’t be selfish, don’t ruin her birthday, don’t ruin her relationship, you thought. now or never.

After your mental pep talk, you took a sip from your glass and shoved a handful of the candies in your mouth as a center. You made your way to the back door and onto the patio. Hot ass mask, you thought before ripping it off your head and tossing it onto the glass patio table.

What you weren’t expecting to see was Cat and Ellie already outside having a conversation, and from where you were standing, it looked intense.

“Why the fuck are you mad about me hugging her when I haven’t seen her in ages?”

And you froze.

“Ellie, if you can’t see that she has the biggest crush on you then you're actually delusional,” Cat spat back at her. “And that wasn’t just a regular hug either! You should’ve seen her face when you grabbed her, it looked like she was about to drop to her knees and propose!”

They couldn’t see you from where you stood and it would’ve been in your best interest to flee before you passed out from embarrassment and loathing, but your feet had been glued to the ground and you were forced to listen to their harsh exchange.

“First off, watch your mouth, I’m not fucking delusional,” the birthday girl heatedly said back. “And no she didn’t! And even if she did it doesn’t fucking matter. She's a fucking kid!”

And you’d felt your heart plummet to your feet.

The remainder of the candies in your mouth felt like sandpaper and you couldn’t swallow. You felt the all too familiar tremors of your hands start to pick up.

“Listen,” you heard her tone soften. “I’m in love with you, okay? I love you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else. I don’t think about being with anyone else.”

The sharp gasp you sucked in made both heads turn towards you in shock, and your teary eyes locked with wide, green ones.

You wanted to fall through the floor and die.

Cat scoffed and shook her head as if to say see what I mean before she puffed on her—Ellie’s—vape.

Ellie’s call of your name snapped you out of your stupor, your feet moving before your brain could tell them to, clumsily shuffling your way back into your heartbreaker’s home, sliding the door shut with a loud slam.

Everyone who’d been dancing jumped at the sound, turning to take in your ruffled state as their energetic smiles slowly dropped in concern.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Dina said gently over the still loud music.

Your sister called your name out with worry in her voice. You looked into her eyes with a head shake before you choked out a reply.

“Can we… I wanna leave, please, now.”

a/n: heyyyy lol so yeah thats that ig. if anyone even reads or sees this fic plss be nice to me ive never written anything like this b4. idk how long this will be but its def gonna be long,,, lots of ground 2 cover w this universe this game is everything 2 me and so is ellie so ye bye lolz

read pt 2 here :D

934 notes · View notes

lovecrime2 · 5 months

Text

Hannibal Lecter x Reader

summary: you begin therapy with Dr. Lecter, a man who you quickly learn much from. from his intellectuality, to the darkness hidden in the furthest parts of his mind, you become enraptured with him. will he feel the same about you? therapy sessions turn into exchanging books with notes, cooking together, and seeing more of each other in ways you both never thought possible. a love story.

authors note: hello!! this fic will have multiple chapters and i’m so excited to start this! it’s also on a03. and im creating a playlist for this!!

Chapter I: Prima

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـ

“Dr. Lecter is ready to see you now, miss.” the polite receptionist says, with a smile sent your way. It’s no more than a flash of positivity before she turns back to her paper work, reflected by her thin framed glasses. As her eyes scanned over the work, turning back to frantically look over her desk, presumably searching for something, she gave off an obvious air of worry. Perhaps she was new.

You were too.

Your first day of therapy. Well, your first day of therapy with this new psychiatrist. It wasn’t something you were exactly frantically nervous about- as the poor polite receptionist was. You’d been to therapy before. You were accustomed to the shallow invasion and prodding of the mind. This time, your hope was that this new Dr. Lecter would be unique. Different.

You’d heard many good things about him. Ranging from his written work and studies, to his success with patients. And after the worsening state of your mind and the life you had built around you, you decided that it was time to try again. So far, you weren’t disappointed. The office was classy. Nice chairs were set in the waiting room, where you had sat for some time. There was tasteful art, quiet classical music in the background. Bach, you had guessed. Other than the receptionist, it had emitted an air of class and calmness.

You flashed a smile back at the receptionist, returning the politeness.

“Thank you very much,” you replied.

You weren’t sure if she heard given how diligently she was scanning her desk currently. But it was of no matter, you had been polite, it was the most you could do. You stepped up to a wooden door, unsure if you’d have to knock. Before you could, the door was opened, and Dr. Lecter was revealed to you.

He was handsome. You weren’t one to judge or weigh value off of looks, but you would give him that simple statement. Looks were not the most important thing to you, and you certainly were not meaning it in a romantic way. But he was handsome. The eyes that quickly met yours were brown, maybe with a hint of hazel. His hair was brown as well, it shone in the light from his office. He wore a navy blue plaid suit, giving him an obvious air of seriousness, of class and respect. His lips curled into a smile, and yours followed suit.

“Miss L/N, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” he spoke, his voice was rich and soothing.

“Dr. Lecter, I’ve heard many wonderful things about you and your work. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well.” you replied calmly, mirroring his niceties and charm. He had a quiet suave demeanor. As if on instinct, you both reached your hands out for a handshake. More niceties. This doctor was very formal. You appreciated that. As your hands touched you felt his eyes scan you quickly. Almost like an eagle searching a field for prey. Though, there wasn’t malice behind this look.

“Please, do come in.” he said, leading you into his large room. And what a large room it was.

It had a mostly grey color palette, with the exception of the one wall which was a dark red. To your right was a large wall, with two large red and white striped curtains. To your left, a desk, obviously a professional one. Lamps and books and art decorated the top. Further back to your left was another desk and a chair, but nothing was on this one. Behind that, a fireplace. The room was lined with cabinets and bookshelves, and art (specifically paintings) were anything but scarce. Right in front of you however, were two chairs facing each other. And there was a ladder, on the wall behind them, leading up to another level of the room. This one was lined with books of all shapes and sizes and colors. You took note of the other items in the room. Your eyes scanned from the couch against the back wall, to the couch in front of the windows. The room seemed lightly dull at first, but the more you gazed, the more points of color stood out to you.

After having visually scoured the room, you summarized that the collection of books, European furniture, and art was not simply the doing of the building’s hypothetical interior designer. By his outfit and the look of the room, Dr. Lecter was a man of intellectuality, power, curiosity, and ambition. He was impressive.

“Have a seat, Miss L/N.” he said, gesturing to the two seats in the middle of the room- each sat directly across from the other. Each had small tables next to them, but one had a book (presumably for taking notes on patients) and a box of tissues. You assumed the seat that the book and tissue box adorned table belonged to: was his. So you took the other seat, smoothing the bottom half of your clothing as you sat down. He took a seat across from you, crossing his legs and folding his hands neatly in his lap.

“I have no doubt you know why you’re here.” he said politely. He was direct, eyes still piercing into you. You were afraid to look away. You wanted to maintain the eye contact but at the same time, the socially nervous part of you longed to break it, longed to gaze around the sophisticated room instead of facing his perceptive gaze.

“Yes, Doctor.” you replied, finally working up the courage to break the mural stare and look down as you smiled at him. He returned a brief smile, and nodded once.

“So then, I hope you won’t mind if I list off the reasons you put for requesting my psychiatric assistance which led to us meeting today?” he inquired, taking his notebook from the small table next to him.

“Not at all, go ahead.” you gave him an encouraging nod and he opened his book. As he looked over a page, a realization came to you. You realized how intimate the placing of his chairs was. You mirrored him and put one leg over the other. You wondered if this was a tactic of his to create a sense of connection, equality. Interesting.

“You have emotional regulation issues, accompanied by social anxiety. Past traumas, which I’m sure are accompanied by self-image problems, am I correct?” he asked at the end of his statement.

“Yes,” you said, pausing a moment. There was some more, but this was only the first session. You hated the way it sounded so labeled when it was later out like that, so shallow. Realizing your answer might’ve seemed curt, you rushed to say more. “Yes, that’s all correct.”

He set his book down on the side table and looked at you for a moment. The thought crossed your mind that he might be waiting for you to speak, you were about to say something when he spoke at last.

“How do you feel right now, at this very particular moment, Miss L/N?” he asked you, eyes endlessly boring into you.

“I feel,” you hesitated, trying to come up with the right words. “Comfortable and welcomed. Yet nervous.”

“I’m glad you feel comfortable and welcomed, I try to provide sufficient hospitality for those in my care. Though, tell me, why do you feel nervous?” he asked.

“I’ve just met someone new. Someone who will be peering into my mind, learning the most personal parts of me. It’s an odd thought that a man I met a few minutes ago will come to know my mind so deeply.” you replied, watching Hannibal process your answer. He had a good poker face.

“Are you afraid of what I might uncover in the depths of your mind?” he asked.

“I think everyone’s a little afraid of what can be perceived in the most personal parts of their mentality. We all have only so much we express. To the eye it may seem to show enough, but there’s so much hidden where we store our deepest thoughts.” you replied. You liked the knowledgeable banter.

“Knowing those parts of you is a fundamental aspect to your treatment, as it is to any patient. I am not here to judge, or to exploit. I am here to come to know your being and attempt to help it in a way that is beneficial to your mental well-being.” he replied.

“You make a good point, Doctor.” you replied, flashing him a smile. He returned it, and opened his book.

“Well then, shall we begin?” he asked, his eyes still focused on yours.

“Of course.” you replied.

And so began your session with Hannibal Lecter, your new psychiatrist.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

#hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader #nbc hannibal x reader #dr hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader imagine #hannibal fic #hannibal nbc fic #hanniblogging #hannibal the cannibal #hannibal the series #hannibal smut #hannibal lecter smut

379 notes · View notes

diejager · 2 months

Note

This gon be real dark but hear me out

So during hanky panky, dbf!Horangi finds there are like… cuts on reader’s wrists? Like s/h? And then he goes to tell stepdad!König. What would happen? Will they comfort or belittle them?

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, self-harm, âge difference/gap, suicidal thoughts, tell me if I missed any.

It was an accident, a complete accident that he stumbled into the bathroom as you were cutting yourself, crimson ichor or rolling down your forearm. The small blade you used gleamed under the yellow light, the sharp edge stained in a familiar red that he knew from the many times he bit you. His body moved without much thought, ripping the thin blade from your hands and gripping your cut arm in the softest hold he’s every used on you. He fussed about your self-inflicted wound, tender words spilling from his tongue to smooth your pained moans when he cleaned and wiped your cuts —new and old.

How had he not seen them? They stood out on your skin, red and inflamed, a throbbing wound that pained him to look at. There weren’t any similar cuts, each scabs aged differently, a shade too light or too dark from each other. None were made on the same day, and it hurt him to see so many lines of scabs and dried blood. He knew he was demanding, unfair and a possessive and bad man, but he ached whenever he was too far from you, when he lacked or hungered for your presence. He gave a part of himself to you and took your whole being. Perhaps that drove you to harm yourself, to feel something other than… loneliness, was it? Was that what he and König caused?

He knew the feeling well enough to call it an old friend, no one in the army was a stranger to cutting themselves, he used to do it before he was forced into therapy, they called it. It was to help his mind and body. It hadn’t worked on him, he was too stubborn to give up an ounce of his past to a person who wouldn’t understand him, but it had worked for others, he simply found something else to put his mind to it.

“Come,” he spoke slowly, guiding you out of the bathroom when you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, finding the carpeted ground so interested, “We need to talk.”

He sat you on the kitchen table, bursting into König’s office while he worked, singing off papers and typing away at something on his laptop, and asked him for König’s medkit. Blue eyes rove over his body, confused but still handing him the kit he kept in his drawer, König inquired about his use of it since he wasn’t wounded, no scrape or redness on the skin König could see.

“Who is it for?”

Horangi grunted out your name and that was all König needed to leave his office, strutting to the kitchen with long legs and even longer steps. He too, fussed about your arms, harsh hisses and worried frowns as he moved around to patch you up with the bandage Horangi pulled out, fixing you up as gently as he could with his giant fingers. You wouldn’t look at any of them, staring intently at your lap, your fingers sinking into the meaty fat of your thigh.

“We need to talk, Schatzi,” König grumbled, blinking away the worry and meeting Horangi’s eyes, sharing a single thought when they watched you shake you head, adamantly staying silent with your troubles.

“And someone else? We know someone,” Horangi tried, closing in on you with a warm palm over your waist, “A therapist, someone who knows what they’re doing, hmm?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @223princess @maylovesyousomuch @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

142 notes · View notes

redxwater · 2 months

Text

Waiting Room (Chapter 1)

Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

(Warnings chapter 1 : depression, anxiety, harsh language.)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,

° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - °

“Yeah, no i’ll be fine Claire. Call you later” a young blonde boy spoke through the phone. Call connected to Washington D.C from NYC. On the other line in the capital was a younger woman. “Okay, text me if there’s anything!” The brunette girl smiled before hanging up. Claire was Leon’s best friend, but she isn’t always capable of helping him. She tries her best though.

Leon didn’t want a foster family, even if it was for the better. He lived with Claire’s family for a few months before getting a scholarship in a music major. He tells himself he’s lucky, in a way… Claire has known him for 4 years, since they were freshmen. Her family loved Leon, sometimes they hoped they would end up together, but they never did.

With a deep sigh, he rolled out of bed and put on the jeans that were on the floor, and a sweater. He threw on his old white sneakers and put some deodorant on. He grabbed his phone and headphones and was out the door.

He didn’t brush his hair, he hadn’t for 3 days. He stuffed some gum in his mouth and spat it out 5 minutes later, before heading into english class. He had been at college for a month, it wasn’t that bad, but he thinks it is. Everything sucks. Literally everything. Depression was something he struggled with even before he lost his parents. He tried therapy for a long while but didn’t feel like it worked.

Leon is a quiet observer, he knows most people in his classes. Well their names at least, today was no different. Despite his depression his grades are peaked, he has the same routine everyday and that includes school work. “Leon Kennedy?” the professor went through the absence list. He sticks his hand in the air and puts it down again. The man in front of the class nods and goes on until it’s done.

English was boring, Leon always has been a very smart kid. But maybe that was a good thing right now too. He didn’t have too put too much effort into everything.

The blonde boy hadn’t shared a dorm for a few weeks, he didn’t expect anyone to move in by now but when he opens his door at the end of the day, he’s surprised by boxes everywhere. He just tries to ignore it and grabs a glass of water.

Leon dials Claires number and waits for her to pick up “Hey what’s up?” The other line speaks. “I think i got a roommate, there’s boxes everywhere” he says while sitting on the small kitchen counter. “Oh cool! Are they nice?” She asks with enthusiasm, hoping Leon could make some friends, maybe. “Dunno, maybe. Haven’t met them yet. But it’s a mess here and i don’t like it” he mumbles a bit while inspecting the boxes in the room.

Leon has always been quite neat if it comes to anything but his bedroom. His bedroom is a mess, not disgusting but just a mess. “Can’t you put it all in their room?” She asks sounding a bit crisp through he phone. “Why would i? It’s not my shit. I’m just gonna be in my room.” He says and abruptly hangs up. He’s not annoyed about sharing a dorm. He doesn’t care. As long as they acknowledge each other’s presence and keep things to as much as a “hi” there should be no problem.

Leon settles behind his desk in his room and does some homework before playing a few games. Around 7 he goes out the door, there’s still boxes. Where could that roommate be?

“Oh shit i’m sorry!” A girl bumps into Leon in front of the dorm room he came out of. “Oh you’re my roommate!” You exclaim. “Right.” Leon dryly replies. You tell him your name and stick out your hand for the blonde guy shake. “Leon.” He shakes your hand. “Can you sort those boxes out?” He asks with an annoyed tone “Oh yeah totally” you smile and go into the dorm. “See you later, Leon” you close the door and Leon walks away.

You spend all evening unpacking and put stuff everywhere around the dorm. You accidentally open the door to Leons room, thinking it was the bathroom. The room is dark, it smells fine. Mostly like men’s deodorant. Even in the dark you see clothes everywhere on the floor. You shrug your shoulders, you’re not the neatest either.

After 2 hours Leon returns and looks slightly surprised for a second to see you. He’s not used to living with someone in his dorm. He doesn’t say anything and just walks by to his room. Before he can enter you speak “where did you go?” You ask trying to get to know him a bit. “Doesn’t matter” he cuts off and closes his door. Weird guy, you think. But there’s something about him, you just know.

Thanks for the votes on my poll pookies!! Hope u like it

#leon #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #re4 #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you

139 notes · View notes

mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 month

Text

Closed Position: Week 1 (Introductions)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 7.1K

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Week 1 Quote: "Fuck. I might be in trouble."

Dieter’s POV

“Lenny, have you seen this fucking schedule? It’s seven days a week for twelve weeks. When do I get a break?”

Lenny, my agent, sighed through the speaker phone, “D, I told you this was going to be a lot of work before you agreed to do it. You shouldn’t be surprised…and besides, that’s only if you make it to the finals.”

I scoffed, “Thanks for the vote of confidence…asshole.” Lenny chuckled on the other end of the line. We both went quiet for a moment as I continued to flip through the packet of paper that Lenny had sent over for review, “I don’t even get to have any say on the wardrobe or music. Such bullshit…sucking all the fun out of it. Did you at least drop a bug in their ear about who I’ll be partnered with? If I get stuck with someone I don’t want, I’m gonna be fucking miserable.”

“I did, but the producers said they always do the partner matching themselves. They have a formula…or something. Maybe bring it up again at this morning's meeting and explain why. They may listen to you on it.”

I huffed as my eyes continued skimming over the weekly schedule, “I have to get a fucking spray tan every week? You have GOT to be kidding me…Lenny, you know I don’t like using carcinogenic chemicals on my body.”

“Uhhh, no comment on that…Look, I’ll put in a call and see if they can use something natural for that.”

I relaxed some, “I would appreciate that. Thank you. Tell them I have an allergy or something…just make it happen.”

I tossed the packet onto the table and picked up my phone, taking it off speaker and putting it to my ear - now pacing as I spoke, “Well, it looks like I’m gonna be pretty busy for a bit. That’ll be a nice distraction. It beats being locked inside the house at least.”

Lenny hesitated, but still asked, “How are you doing with everything? Still managing ok?”

I sighed, “Yeah, I mean I’m going to therapy and all the meetings still. I’ve been doing ok…just trying to keep the stress levels down. That’s what gets to me the most.”

“How long has it been?”

I looked at the date on my watch, “Eight months today…actually. It’s the longest I’ve ever been clean, and I plan to stick to it this time. I’m feeling good and I want to keep it that way.”

“Everyone is really proud of you, D. You know that, right? Keep at it and we'll have you back on top in no time.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, knowing that it was an uphill battle, “I appreciate that, but good luck getting people to change their opinion of me. I’m not sure if my reputation is salvageable at this point. Everyone seems to think my sobriety is some sort of joke. No one is taking it seriously.”

I could hear Lenny inhale deeply on the other end of the phone, “It’s just going to take time, D. Don’t give up yet.”

I pursed my lips in thought, “Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I need to get ready for this meeting. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

“Yeah, definitely let me know how it goes.”

Once I hung up the phone with Lenny, I took a quick shower, then spent longer than I should have staring at the clothes hanging in my closet - trying to pick something that says I have my shit together. My therapist kept reminding me that if I dressed like a slob, people were going to treat me like one. So, I was putting more effort into making myself presentable before I left the house these days. Since it was a work meeting, I went for a business casual look, figuring I couldn’t go wrong with that. After styling my hair and getting dressed, I grabbed my keys, phone, wallet, and sunglasses and headed out the front door.

As I approached my car, which was parked in the driveway, I noticed there was a dead bird on the hood. The fluffy gray, brown, and white stray cat that had been hanging around my house was sitting next to it, looking rather proud of himself. I sighed, “Come on dude, really?” And this is why I need to get the garage cleaned out. I hit the clicker to open the garage door so I could get a broom to knock the bird off the hood. As I waded through the mountain of empty boxes from my move six months ago, I cursed myself for taking my sweet time getting that stuff out of the house. Finally finding the broom, I quickly moved to get the dead bird off of the car and shooed the cat away. He didn’t look happy about it as he moved to sit on the pathway in front of the house, watching me until I was finally on my way to Television City Studios to meet with the producers of Dancing with the Stars.

When I arrived at the studio, I was met by the two executive producers, Stacia and Joe and led into a conference room. I let them do their spiel about what’s expected and the schedule. Nodding along in all the right places, being as polite as possible even though I hated how little say I had over anything. Once they moved on to the topic of how they choose partners, I spoke up for the first time, “I would really like to have input on my partner.” They both moved to speak before I held up my hand to signal that I wasn’t finished talking.

“Look, I know you all have your formula or whatever, but I have a legitimate reason for asking. As I’m sure you’re aware, I’ve been trying to clean up my image. I’ve been sober for eight months and I would really like to be placed with someone that doesn’t have a reputation for partying…someone who isn’t gonna be a negative influence on me. It’s actually really important to me because I’m actively avoiding being around anyone who is into that kind of lifestyle.” Which is why I spend most of my time alone.

Stacia and Joe looked at each other, obviously surprised at my reasoning for the request. They were actually stunned into silence. Since neither of them said anything, I continued, “I had my team check into the dancers, and based on their recommendation…I’m requesting that Katarina Stamos be my partner. She has a good reputation and I’m also told she’s very professional and isn’t judgmental…because that’s been an issue here lately that I’d really like to not have to deal with.”

Stacia’s brow furrowed, “Are you looking to actually win? Because Kat hasn’t won a single season that she’s been with us.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. What an asshole thing to say about someone. “Well, maybe that’s because you keep giving her shitty partners.”

I gave Stacia a sarcastic smile. She had the audacity to look offended by that statement. I had watched the show and seen the people Katarina was partnered with. It was always the older guys that could hardly move. Stacia’s attitude made me more determined to have Katarina as a partner just to prove a fucking point on her behalf.

Joe interrupted the silent standoff that Stacia and I now seemed to be having, “Alright, let’s think about this…” He turned to Stacia, “Physically, they work together. Their height and proportions are a good match…and Kat is very patient. She would work well with him. Also, if he wishes to be with someone who isn’t into partying, Anika is not the person he needs to be with.”

Stacia looked frustrated and unwilling to give in as she glared at her counterpart. Joe smirked, “If you're worried about the change in narrative, it’s possible there may be other options we haven’t considered.”

What the fuck does that mean? I leaned forward on my elbows, “What narrative?”

They both turned to look at me, Stacia now had a sly smile on her face. It was Joe who answered, “We always consider the possible narratives that could come up between partners. How they’ll interact and get along personality wise. It’s an important factor for the show.”

I felt a crease form between my brows, “So basically, you try to manufacture drama for TV.”

Joe shook his head, “Not exactly, I mean ultimately, yes. We just take personalities and such into account when we pair the dancers with their celebrities. I mean, we do want everyone to get along with their partner, obviously.”

So, you’re fucking meddlers. Got it. I arched my brows, giving them a tight smile as I nodded, going along with what they were telling me. I now realized I would have to keep an eye on these two. I didn’t feel like they had my best interest in mind. Especially if they were initially planning to put me with the known party girl.

I cleared my throat before speaking again, “So what does that mean…do I get to work with Katarina or not?”

Stacia looked at me, now smiling, “I think that may actually be a good match now that I think about it. So yeah, we’ll let you work with Kat. Hopefully you’ll both make it through to finals.”

What is this woman’s deal? Geez Louise. I eyed them both suspiciously for a moment, “Ok, good. Now I’m finally a little excited about this.”

They went over a few more details about the schedule before taking me out to meet with a production assistant, who was tasked with giving me a tour of the building and showing me where my dressing room would be. This part of my day couldn’t end soon enough…

Katarina’s POV

As I was pulling into the Television City Studios parking lot for the first day of my last season on Dancing with the Stars, my phone pinged with a text from Alec, my fiancée.

Alec: I finished up my meeting with production. Are you here? Have you had yours yet?

I leaned my head back against the seat. What the hell has he been doing? I know his meeting was over an hour ago.

Me: Just parked, I have mine in 10 minutes. I’m on my way in…Meet you in the lobby.

A few minutes later, I found Alec in the lobby. He seemed more excited than he normally was on the first day as he greeted me with a quick kiss on the cheek.

I leaned away from him, “What’s got you so smiley this morning?” I could tell he was trying to temper it down and have a more neutral expression on his face as he shrugged, “I didn’t realize I was. Guess I’m just excited to see you.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. What are you hiding now you asshole. He didn’t know how well I could read him at this point.

I arched a brow instead of returning his smile, “So, I assume you found out who your partner is gonna be?”

He continued his attempts at a neutral expression, “Yeah, Lana Thompson…she’s an actress, I think. There was apparently a last minute change to the lineup this morning. You know her?”

I gave him a tight smile, “Yeah…I know her. She has a bit of a reputation…”

He feigned ignorance, “Oh? I don’t know anything about her. I’m sure she’ll turn out to be one of those stuck up, bitchy types like the rest of ‘em. Ya know, you’re lucky it’s your last season so you don’t have to deal with these people anymore.”

And there it is. He doth protest too much. He was excited to be paired with her, I could tell. He saw it as an opportunity. As far as I knew, he hadn’t strayed to another woman in some time, but that didn’t mean he had changed. He still hadn’t earned my trust back and his current excitement only made me more suspicious of his commitment.

Alec could sense the tension taking hold of my body as he rubbed at my lower back, “Everything ok, baby?”

I gave him a half-hearted smile, “Yeah, just peachy. I’ve gotta go or I’m gonna be late. I’ll catch up with you after.”

As I was walking down the hallway toward the conference room, I saw Lana Thompson exiting the bathroom. I suspected Alec had already met his partner and liked her more than he let on. Which probably explains why it took him as long as it did to text me.

When I entered the conference room, Stacia and Joe sat huddled together. They seemed to be engrossed in whatever they were whispering about, but abruptly stopped talking once they realized I was lingering in the entryway. They both smiled, almost over enthusiastically as they welcomed me and motioned for me to have a seat. They studied me for a moment before Stacia finally spoke, “How are things going with you?”

That’s an odd question and an odd tone. I wasn’t sure what kind of answer she was looking for, “It’s going good, why?”

She gave me a small smile, “I know it’s your last season because you have things going on…but do you think you’re feeling up to the possibility of making it to finals?”

I gave her a confused look, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Joe leaned forward, “What Stacia is trying to say is…the person we have you partnered with this time is going to be a little more physically able than your usual partners. So, you may be in it for the full twelve weeks…if you can pull it off. Are you physically able to handle it?”

Should I be offended by that? It’s not like I can’t function. It was just painful some days, especially when there were a lot of rehearsals. My joints couldn’t handle the Latin dances like they used to - the jerky movements exacerbating the inflammation and discomfort. That didn’t mean they had to treat me like a fragile porcelain doll though.

I narrowed my eyes at them, “Of course I can handle it. I could handle it this entire time…which is why I’ve been asking for more capable partners.”

Joe smiled, “Well, good. Maybe you can go out with a bang this season.”

What the fuck was this about? I dug my teeth into my bottom lip as I tried to figure out their angle. There was always an angle with them, “Why do I feel like you’re trying to sell this to me?”

Joe grimaced slightly. “We’re not trying to sell it, but we do worry you won’t be happy about it.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back into the seat, “Who is it?”

Stacia smirked, “It’s Dieter Bravo.”

I looked between the two of them, “You’re joking?”

They shook their heads in unison. This didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t he be better suited with one of the girls that enjoyed a lifestyle similar to his?

“What makes you think he and I will work well together? I know I have a lot of patience, but it does have its limits.”

Joe chuckled, “His people requested you specifically. He’s actually eight months sober and they want him with someone who isn’t going to get him into trouble. He’s trying to clean up his image.”

I scoffed, “I thought you didn’t let the celebrities have any say in who they’re partnered with?”

Joe leaned forward onto the table, “We don’t normally, but given his request and the reasons for it, we felt we should make an exception. We were thinking of putting him with you anyway.”

I shook my head, “You are aware of his reputation, right? Alec is gonna lose his shit over this.”

Stacia smiled, “It’s not your or Alec’s choice. We run the show.”

It dawned on me then. Alec had said there was a last minute lineup change this morning and that’s why he was put with Lana. I had somehow managed to fly under the radar when it came to the producers' manufactured bullshit, but now I was right in the middle of it. They were making moves to create an underlying narrative for the show.

“Who was he partnered with originally? I know it wasn’t me.”

Stacia looked surprised by my question, “He was never partnered with anyone else before you.”

Stacia was lying. She couldn’t look at me directly when she answered my question - it was her tell. I knew how their minds worked. Dieter Bravo had a reputation for causing trouble and they were looking to exploit it. I’m sure his request caused a hiccup in their plans, so now they were making adjustments to cause drama surrounding him any way they could.

My eyes shifted between the two of them, “I don’t know what your endgame is here, but I have no intention of playing, just so you know.”

Stacia and Joe sat expressionless, not giving anything away. I assumed they expected this sort of response from me. My tendency to push back at their plans was one of the reasons I wasn’t a favorite of theirs and most likely part of the reason they always worked to get me off the show as soon as possible, every season. Which sucked for my bank account. To add to their reasoning, I wasn’t interesting enough since I never had issues with my partners or whirlwind romances that made for good TV. However, this season they were taking a chance, throwing two bombs in the form of Lana and Dieter into my already tumultuous relationship with Alec. Hoping for an exciting outcome that would play out behind the scenes to stir up tabloid fodder and result in free promotion for the show.

Joe sighed, finally speaking to break the tension in the room, “For what it’s worth, we met with Dieter earlier this morning…he was actually very pleasant and agreeable. I don’t think he’ll be an issue for you, so long as he continues to stay sober.”

My brows furrowed, “It sounds like you have a lot of faith in him. Good to know.” I moved to stand, “Well, if there isn’t anything else you need from me…”

Joe smiled weakly in my direction, “No, I think that’s it for now…just make sure you review the schedule and let us know if you have questions.”

I gave them a sarcastic smile before moving to leave the conference room. As I rounded the corner in the hallway, looking down at the floor lost in my thoughts and frustration, I ran into someone. I started mumbling my apologies as I looked up at the stranger. I was met with a mess of curls, piercing dark eyes, and a dimpled lop-sided grin. It was Dieter fucking Bravo looking like he just stepped out of a GQ magazine.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said through a chuckle with his hands on my shoulders to catch me from running head first into him. We stared at each other in silence for a moment. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, he can’t call me that.

He had a slight smirk on his face now, “Katarina, right? Looks like we’re gonna be dance partners.”

I shook my head, my lips set in a tight line, “Don’t call me that.”

His brow furrowed, “What? Katarina?”

I scoffed, “No, sweetheart. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. It’s inappropriate. You can call me Kat like everyone else.”

He was obviously taken off guard by my cold demeanor as he gave me a confused look, “I didn’t…mean anything by it, I-I call everyone sweetheart.”

I nodded, “Well, you're not gonna call me that.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a beat, “I guess I’ve earned that. Sorry, I won’t do it again.”

I inhaled deeply, biting my bottom lip as I did so. It didn’t go unnoticed that his eyes shifted down to my mouth. “Look, this is my last season and I just wanna get through it without any drama, ok?”

A crease formed between his brows as his jaw ticked to the side, “What makes you think I’m gonna cause drama?”

I shook my head, now realizing how big of a jerk I was being, “Umm…I…”

He continued to stare at me with a burning intensity, “Just so you know, I’m sober…have been for eight months. Drama is not my thing these days…”

I gave him a tight smile, “Good…hopefully you can stick to it.” Fuck. That did not come out how I meant for it to.

I could see his jaw muscles flex before he let out a small laugh. His eyes finally shifted downward. He almost looked hurt by that comment.

I sighed, “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

His brows arched as he peered at me through his lashes, “You know, I requested to be partnered with you because I was told that you're professional and wouldn’t be judgmental about my past…I guess I heard wrong. I suppose I should just expect it at this point, right? Maybe I shouldn’t have such high expectations of others.”

My mouth fell open as I shook my head. I’m such a fucking asshole. He didn’t give me a chance to say anything before he spoke again, “I guess I’ll see you at rehearsals tomorrow. Have a good afternoon.” He gave me a sad smile as he brushed past me. I stood there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot watching him as he walked toward the exit. That was a great first impression. Good job, Kat.

“Who was that?” Alec asked from behind me.

I turned, running my fingers through the top of my hair out of frustration, “That was my new dance partner.”

Alec squinted toward the figure standing near the exit, now stopping to look at his phone, “Is that Dieter Bravo?”

I could feel my jaw tighten as I took in Alec’s expression, “Yes, it is.” Alec’s head snapped toward me, “I don’t want you working with him.”

I smiled sarcastically, “Really? And you think I have a choice in that? They made it clear, there is no other option. I asked.”

Alec shook his head, “You could just not do this season. You're quitting anyway. Why not go ahead and drop out?”

My eyes widened at his suggestion, “Because I need the fucking money, you know that.”

He chuckled, “Right, for the dance studio.”

I scoffed, “Yeah, for the dance studio. I don’t understand why you can’t support me on that.”

Alec didn’t acknowledge my question, “This guy is a known womanizer. I’m not comfortable with this.”

My head tilted to the side, “So you don’t trust me. That’s rich coming from you. You know…I’m not excited about your partner either, but I didn’t tell you to drop out. If anyone has a right to be concerned, it’s me.”

Alec moved in closer, causing me to back up against the wall as he got in my face. His eyes were blazing with anger, “You’re never gonna let that shit go, are you? That was ten months ago, and I have been loyal to you ever since. Yet here you are…still throwing it in my fucking face.”

I had a sudden defiant streak hit me, “You’re the one who brought it up by insinuating that you couldn’t trust me. I’m just reminding you who the problem is in this relationship.”

Alec moved to put his hand on the wall next to my head as he leaned in further - his nose nearly touching mine as I turned my stoney face away from him, “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again,” he spat out.

I could feel his eyes drift over my face for a moment before he pulled away and walked off.

I huffed out a quiet “Fuck” as I exhaled a shaky breath and watched him walk toward the dressing rooms. When I glanced back toward the exit, Dieter was still standing there, frozen in place with his phone halfway to his ear. Once he realized I was looking his way, his head dropped downward, and he slowly turned to exit the building.

Dieter’s POV

As I walked out into the scorching afternoon sun, I ended the call to check my voicemail, deciding I wasn’t in the mood to hear it. I was frustrated by my first interaction with Katarina. It didn’t go how I expected, and honestly, she had hurt my feelings. Based on everything I had heard about her, I didn’t think she would throw my past up in my face like that. At least not immediately, if at all. She did seem a little flustered, maybe she was just having a bad day?

What followed after our exchange was even more bizarre. It looked like she was having a tense conversation with the man that I assumed was the one she was dating. Lenny had mentioned she was engaged to one of the other dancers. When the man first leaned in, I initially thought they were just having a private moment, but then I noticed the look on Kat’s face as she turned away from him. Something about it was unsettling and for a brief moment, I considered interrupting them. Luckily, I didn’t have to. However, I was left feeling that I had witnessed something I wasn’t supposed to.

Even though our conversation didn’t go as well as I hoped, I was still struck with how beautiful Katarina was in person. Pictures and TV didn’t do her justice. It was probably a good thing she was seeing someone, otherwise I would be in danger of making a fool of myself. Then again, I probably would anyway. My sober self didn’t seem to know how to act around a pretty lady. My confidence and self-assurance definitely weren’t on the same level these days.

When I got home, I spent more time than I would like to admit staring at my reflection in the mirror - trying to remind myself that I was no longer the piece of shit that everyone still saw me as. It was still hard for me to accept that the old me and the new me were two very different people. Some days it really did seem like it was easier being the old Dieter Bravo, because he didn’t care about how he was perceived by others. I often longed for him to come back, just to quiet the thoughts of self-hate and inadequacy. Those thoughts really could be suffocating and hard to overcome. It was near impossible living with myself on those days.

The anticipation of how our first rehearsal would go was starting to get to me. So, I decided to spend the rest of the evening trying to relax and take my mind off things. With classical music blaring from the sound system, I moved through the house to check in on my plants - watering, misting leaves, and pruning. It was a new hobby I had picked up since rehab. It started with one succulent plant that had seen better days. My neighbor had left it sitting next to the trash bin on garbage collection day. For some reason, I had an urge to attempt to save the shriveled mass. After a few weeks, it was showing new life as the deep purple hues started to form on the leaves. My plant obsession bloomed from there. Now I wasn’t even sure how many I had. I was fairly certain my housekeeper was going to quit if I brought any more home.

After I was finished with the plants, I spent some time painting until I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer. It was nearing midnight by the time I had showered and crawled into bed. Even though I was completely exhausted, I couldn’t shut my mind off. The anxiety was now building to problematic levels. It was always at this point that I thought about using the most. By now, the old Dieter would be a couple lines in and a few drinks deep to block out the thoughts. The new Dieter suffers through it as he lay in bed alone, staring into the darkness. I drug both hands down my face and huffed loudly before moving to switch on the lamp beside the bed. I reached for my latest self-help book and began reading.

I was startled awake by my 7 AM alarm. I groaned as I felt around next to me on the bed for the shrilling phone to shut it off. I sat up, still half out of it, causing the book that had been lying on my chest to fall to the floor with a loud thump. I got up from bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes as I walked toward the bathroom to splash some water on my face. I stood staring at my reflection again, “You look like shit, Bravo.” It was clear I hadn’t gotten much sleep from my dark circles and puffy eyelids. I threw a warm rag over my eyes for a few minutes in hopes that would help.

Standing in my closet staring at the pile of gym clothes my stylist had picked up, I selected a random pair of shorts and a t-shirt, then pulled the tags off. We weren’t allowed to wear anything with brands or logos on filming days, so I had to break down and buy more clothes. It was probably for the best, my old gym clothes were looking a little ratty anyway.

Once I was dressed, I grabbed my backpack that had a few essentials in it and headed toward the front door. As I stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind me, I was greeted by my furry squatter who had left another gift near the steps - a dead mouse. I sighed, “Well, at least it’s not on top of the car this time…” The fluffy menace meowed at me as he rubbed against my legs, as if to say, “Look what I did!”

I was determined to not give in to the furry intruder, so I disregarded his attempts for pets. “Don’t you have a family somewhere to annoy?” I muttered to him as I continued toward the car. He followed me halfway down the pathway before sitting down and flicking his tail around as he watched me get into the driver's side and shut the door. He didn’t look happy about being ignored.

I gave myself a quick glance in the rearview mirror, reaching to comb down my hair with my fingers. I hadn’t bothered to fix it, knowing it was going to turn into a mess no matter what I did to it. Then, I started the car and drove in silence to the dance studio, not even really sure how I got there as I pulled into the parking lot. I found myself wondering if I had run any redlights as I walked through the main entrance. I felt like I was in a haze as the camera team talked to me in the lobby to fill me in on the plans for filming.

They wanted to do a brief interview with me before I went into the studio with Katarina. They wanted me to give the whole spiel about how excited I was to be here and working with my dance partner. Truth is, I wasn’t excited. I was nervous as hell, and I was supposed to act like this was the first time I was meeting her. I was unsure of how to act toward her, so when the time came for me to walk through the door to greet her and act excited, I turned on the Dieter Bravo charm the best I could and pretended like yesterday’s conversation never happened.

I was surprised to find how well Katarina did the same thing as she came over to greet me with a smile and a hug and gushed about how excited she was to work with me. However, we were both avoiding looking at the other directly. Clearly there was still some lingering awkwardness between us. After they filmed the introduction, they wanted to get some quick shots of us rehearsing.

These first few days of rehearsal were meant for learning the basics. We were not actually getting into the first routine yet. We started with some simple stretches and moved into learning the proper frame, the different types of positions, and spacing for the different types of dances. It was all very high level and fast, but Katarina had promised that we would go over it in more detail once the film crew left for the day. The quick pace was mostly for the benefit of the film crew so they could get what they needed and move on to the next couple.

Once filming was done for the day, we took a seat on the floor for a water break as the crew gathered up all of their gear to leave. We mostly sat in awkward silence until we were finally alone. I could feel Katarina’s eyes on me as I stared at the water bottle in my hand. She spoke first.

“I feel like I should apologize about yesterday…I was having a shit day and kind of took it out on you. I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean what I said.”

I pursed my lips and shrugged, “It’s fine. I’m used to it at this point.”

She reached out and grasped my wrist with her left hand, the heat of her touch raced through me as I looked at the glittering ring on that finger for a moment before meeting her eyes, “It doesn’t mean that it should keep happening though. It’s not right and it’s not fair to you. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

I huffed out a small laugh, “Yeah, except I’m on like my tenth chance. I understand why no one takes me seriously. Really, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Her face softened as she stared at me for a beat, like she was trying to decide what she wanted to say next. Then she shifted her body to face me as she crossed her legs, “It is a big deal. It’s a big deal to me because I know better. You know…”

She paused, appearing to gather her thoughts. I moved to lean back on my hand and face her more fully with my legs stretched out to the side. My teeth bit into my bottom lip as I watched her face shift to a somewhat pained expression. It was brief, but I still caught it before she gained her composure.

“My uhh…my dad was sober for about 14 years before he passed. I know how hard it was for him in the beginning…with everyone doubting him and not giving him a chance. It’s one of the reasons he relapsed the first few times. It can be hard when you don’t have any support from the people around you. I know that…and I don’t wanna be one of those people. You haven’t given me any reason to doubt you, so I wanna make sure I’m giving you a fair shot and support you as long as you’re actively trying to better yourself. I know first-hand that people do change.”

Is she fucking serious? I couldn’t move or speak. She had stunned me again for the second day in a row. I never would have guessed she would share something so personal, especially on our first day together. She seemed sincere in her apology.

I finally managed a curt nod before I reached to rub at the crease between my brows, “Thanks…I uhh…I appreciate that.” I let out a small laugh, “I appreciate it more than you probably realize, actually.”

She gave me a tentative smile, “Does that mean I’m forgiven for being an asshole then?”

I chuckled, “Of course…and I didn’t think you were an asshole. Not really. I had a feeling you were having a bad day.”

“Whew…ok. Good. I was worried I had already fucked this whole thing up before it started.”

Ok, it’s kind of hot when she says fuck. I smirked, “Does this mean I get to call you sweetheart now?”

She narrowed her eyes on me and shook her head, “No. No sweetheart.” She laughed quietly, “But, I might consider a different nickname if you come up with a good one.”

My lips spread into a cheeky smile, “I think I can come up with something.” She laughed into the top of her water bottle as she took a sip with a slight flush creeping up her neck. Am I flirting right now? I don’t even know what I’m doing. Geez. I looked away in an attempt to reign myself in. I can’t be doing that.

We were soon back at it, now with a more relaxed atmosphere. We again started with getting my frame right. I stood in place as she moved my arms to the proper position, pushing in between my shoulder blades to straighten my posture. After several minutes in the position, I couldn’t help the groan that slipped out, “This is gonna do a number on my back muscles, isn’t it?”

She snickered, “You will definitely have better posture by the time I’m done with you. Now, elbows up, you should have a horizontal line from elbow to elbow…and hold it there.”

She then stood in front of me, taking in my form for a moment before manipulating my hands into the proper position.

Smiling, she nodded in satisfaction as she stepped closer, “Ok, now let’s go over the hold. The hold is important because it’s how we connect…how our bodies communicate movement to lead and follow.”

As she spoke, she moved closer, placing her arm along the top of my right one and clasping my left hand in hers. She was very matter of fact with her words as her eyes bore into mine. It was almost distracting.

“I need you to make sure there’s no space between our arms…here, so keep your elbow flush against mine.” She bounced her arm against the top of my right one to emphasize what she meant. “This is an important connection point because I can feel the pressure from your arm, which will tell me how to follow. As for your left hand, keep it at my eye level. We apply pressure here as well for another connection point.”

All I could do was nod along with her words, completely mesmerized by her intensity. Once she felt we had the hold down, she began to explain the differences in spacing for standard ballroom versus Latin dances.

“So…in Latin style dances, we’ll have more space between us…like we are now. It gives us more room to move. We’re gonna be slightly offset from each other while maintaining this closed position. Got it?”

I nodded again as I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I wanted to look at her directly, but I couldn’t. Between her eyes burning into me and the tingling from her touch, I felt like my skin was on fire. I didn’t know what to make of it and it was sort of fucking with my head.

Then she stepped even closer, the front of our bodies nearly flush as she slightly adjusted the position of our arms. I swallowed hard over her proximity and the tangy citrus scent that was now invading my senses. Fuck. I might be in trouble.

“For standard dances, like the Waltz and Foxtrot, we’re gonna be closer…like this. Our frame will be a little wider and our arms will be positioned slightly lower. We’ll both be looking off to our left instead of directly at each other.”

I cleared my throat, stepping back slightly, “Sooo…umm…do we look off to the left for Latin dances?”

Her brows arched as her eyes widened, “Good question. I should have mentioned that. There’s typically more direct eye contact in the Latin dances. It’s actually another form of connection…another way for us to communicate without words.”

She moved back into the Latin dance hold, now making direct eye contact with me. I couldn’t help how my eyes roamed over her face, taking in the minor changes in her expression as she spoke. I wasn’t sure if the close proximity of the standard hold or direct eye contact with the Latin hold was worse. They were both a little overwhelming.

“Alright, let’s try some steps. We can start with the Rumba.”

She broke away for a moment to show me the foot movement, then had me give it a try. After a successful attempt, she positioned us back into the Latin hold and we began moving together. Once it seemed we had the footwork down, she backed away with a smirk on her face.

“You’re actually really good at this, you know. We do need to work on eye contact though.”

I smiled nervously as I looked down at my feet and rubbed the back of my neck, “I’m sorry…I know. Direct eye contact is a little weird for me.” I glanced up at her through my lashes, slightly embarrassed by the admission.

She smiled and arched a brow in my direction, “Really? I never would have guessed that based on your love scenes.”

My eyes widened. I do not need to think about her watching me dick someone down on screen. Focus, Bravo. I chuckled nervously, “Yeah, I’m not usually looking directly into their eyes during those. I tend to stare between their eyebrows.”

She gave me a sly smile now, snickering, “Oh, is that why you usually look cross eyed then?”

My brow furrowed as I gave her a mock look of offense, “I don’t look cross eyed. That’s rude.”

She cackled over my response, “I’m joking. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen one of your love scenes to know how your face looks.”

I scrunched up my nose, “Ouch, ok…so you don’t watch my movies. Got it.”

Her laugh had simmered to a quiet chuckle now as she lightly smacked my shoulder, “I’ve seen some…just not any with a love scene. So don’t be so offended. I’ve seen those TikTok videos though…they gave me a good idea of what I’m working with.”

I rolled my eyes, “Ugh…those fucking TikTok videos. They’re so bad.”

I had to admit, it was nice to be joking around with her after all the tension that had built up from yesterday. I took it as a good sign that this might actually go ok. What I didn’t expect was the attraction that I was starting to feel as our day went on. However, the obnoxiously sized engagement ring she wore on her finger helped keep that in check every time I saw it sparkling in the light when she moved. As long as that shiny reminder was there, I would be ok...

Right?

Next: Week 2

✨FUN FACTS: All cast members on Dancing with the Stars are in fact required to get a weekly spray tan. They also do not get to choose their partners, costumes, music, or themes. They can make recommendations obviously, but the producers do not have to honor the requests. When it comes to pairing partners, the producers do have a "formula".

A/N: I wanted to take a quick minute to welcome all of my new and old readers! So happy to have you all with me for my next adventure with Dieter Bravo. For the new folks, I'm a sucker for predictions and theories. If you have them, drop them in the comments so we can discuss. Now on to my normal nonsense...how are you guys feeling about the first chapter? How do you feel about Dieter and Kat's first couple of interactions? What about all the characters that were introduced? I'm curious to know who you want to throat punch more, Alec or Stacia? I'm already in love with these two and I can't wait to share more of them. This Dieter is...something else. I love sharing things from his point of view. He is going to be a good time, as expected. Kat is...kind of a mess, but also not? It's been interesting being in her head. How do you see things progressing with these two? Lastly, a quick thank you to @maggiemayhemnj for giving this first chapter a quick read through to make sure all these plot points were introduced in a way that made sense...because seriously, there is a lot going on here. She also found the perfect disco ball looking dividers for this...and I fucking love them. 😘 👉 I did a fun post about Dieter's plant hobby and his furry visitor. Check it out HERE. 👉 In case you missed it, I also did a character introduction post, which you can find HERE. Until next time, 💜 Mysty

Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @linzels-blog @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @pedrostories

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.

Credits: Support/MDNI Dividers: @cafekitsune Disco Divider: @deadbranch

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #closed position series

136 notes · View notes

humanitys-strongest-bamf · 4 months

Text

lmao idk if this is even any good but all i want is levi ackerman taking care of me during the times that my brain's being mean to me :(

Who You Are | Levi Ackerman Hurt/Comfort Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ 1.7k ✧ notes ➼ hurt/comfort, negative self-talk, levi being comforting in his levi way, explicit descriptions of depression (specifically the catatonia)

You could tell it was another one of those days.

You weren't surprised, but you sure were disappointed. You had gone to bed telling yourself that today would be better, that this recent episode had finally passed.

Your body felt heavy, like you could barely move. Even adjusting the blanket when you got too warm, and peeling your eyes open to check to time felt as effortful as dragging an oversized briefcase up the flight of stairs to your apartment when the elevator was down.

Now that you thought about it, you noted that the briefcase might actually be easier than this.

Not only did you feel heavy, but you also felt numb. You were barely present and you felt like the world was passing by around you, as if you were an outsider simply watching. You could likely receive devastating news and not feel a single thing.

You couldn't get yourself to cry. Oh how you wished that you could finally cry.

Getting up was impossible. You felt like your bladder was going to explode. The bathroom was only a few steps away—but you couldn't get yourself to move.

You were miserable. Getting up was miserable. Lying in bed was miserable. Falling asleep was miserable. Everything was just miserable.

Things had been getting better for a while. You would convince yourself that it was over, that you had finally 'beaten' your depression, that you were on the right meds, doing the right things, taking care of yourself, and practicing all of your therapy skills.

Then out of nowhere, it'd hit like a truck. The monster known as depression would engulf you in the blink of an eye, and you'd find yourself suddenly confined to the four walls of your bedroom, wrapped inside your blanket as if you were in a cocoon, begging to yourself and counting down the seconds until the depressive episode passed.

Sometimes it did. Other times it didn't.

You peaked one eye out of the blanket as you heard the door to the bedroom open, watching as your boyfriend sat down next to you.

"Rough day?" Levi's voice was gentle and quiet. He had seen you like this for the past few days, so he wasn't all that surprised when he came home and noticed that you were still in bed.

You buried your face into the blanket, ashamed to tell him that you've yet to actually get up even though it was late into the afternoon.

Levi's eyes scanned your body, noticing that your hair was still messy, and that you were still wearing the clothes that you had gone to sleep in the previous night. His gaze wandered towards your nightstand, seeing that the water he had left out for you that morning was untouched, which likely meant that you couldn't get yourself to take your meds for the day.

His eyes furrowed together with concern. Although he wanted to, he knew that asking you about if you had taken your meds or grabbed a bite to eat was just going to make you feel worse.

"Wanna go on a drive with me?" he finally spoke up, gently lowering the blanket away from your face so he could see you better. "Gotta pick something up from the office."

You remained silent as he cupped your cheek with his hand, gently running his thumb across your cheek.

You did usually enjoy your drives with him, even if it didn't feel like it right now.

"You don't even have to change. Take the blanket with you if you wanna keep being a burrito."

You saw the edge of his lips slightly tug up as he playfully commented on your cocoon. If you were feeling better, you'd chuckle with him, but you instead just stuck your bottom lip out in a small pout.

Still, a pouty look in your eyes was better than an empty one. That counted as progress.

"...it'll get dirty," you finally spoke up, your voice hoarse from the fact that you hadn't had a drink of water since the night before.

"We have other blankets," Levi reasoned. "Take the fucking blanket."

~~~~~

You compromised and brought the throwover blanket from the couch with you instead. You were surprised that you had the energy to make the swap instead of just dragging yourself out with the duvet that had been providing you shelter for a few days straight.

Levi had said he needed something from his office, but you knew he was lying. It was likely that whatever he needed to grab wasn't actually that important and could've waited until after the weekend. You knew he was already busy enough as is, which only resulted in you feeling terrible about the fact that he was putting in extra time and effort to attempt to help you feel better.

You sat in comfortable silence as he drove, with you snuggled up in the blanket on the passenger's seat. Your chair was reclined enough so that you were leaning backwards, but were still sitting. The gentle hum of the car helped provide some comfort, although it was barely noticeable.

You eventually looked over at him as he pulled to a stop. You were now at the drive-thru at the local cafe. You listened passively as Levi ordered himself a fresh cup of Earl Grey, shaking your head when he glanced over at you to see if you wanted something.

Levi placed his tea in his cupholder and then placed a small cup of yogurt in yours, indicating that it was there for you if you could get yourself to eat without making you feel too pressured if you couldn't.

When the car came to a stop again, you sighed. He had driven the two of you to the park where you first met and a slight hint of light appeared in your eyes as you were able to pull up the happy memory despite the depressive funk you currently found yourself in.

The back windows of the car were cracked open to let in some fresh air. While you had a brief moment of respite upon seeing that you were at the park, the thoughts of inadequacy quickly returned, swirling in your head like a storm that refused to let up.

Levi looked over at you, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion once he heard you mumble an apology.

"For what?"

Your voice was barely audible and you weren't even looking at him as you spoke. He vaguely heard you say something about being useless.

Noticing that he wasn't responding, you looked up at him, seeing a look in his eyes that resembled one of exasperation, but not quite so. The expression communicated that while he wasn't expecting the comment at this moment, he wasn't surprised by it either.

"Is that you," he began, poking at your forehead, "or that little voice in your head talking?"

Your lips downturned into a pout, both at his question and the way that he was reacting. You knew that he was being gentler since he knew that you weren't in the headspace for his usual commentary. While Levi Ackerman was not one to sugarcoat and say things for the sake of appearing affectionate alone, he also wasn't a dick. He wasn't going to put more distress on you when you already felt like you were drowning.

"You're not useless," he eventually said with a sigh. "I know that feels like a wild concept right now, so you don't have to believe it—but you're here."

He gestured towards your body, including the blanket that was wrapped around you.

"You dragged your ass out of bed and into this car despite feeling like shit," he continued, "and don't start with saying that I forced you because I didn't. You did that on your own."

The little things counted, even if it really was just moving from laying down in bed to sitting in the passenger seat of Levi's car.

"...'m sorry for being a burden," you whispered.

"You're not," Levi interjected, barely allowing you to finish your sentence. "Even if you were, I love you for who you are, not just what you can do or accomplish."

He leaned forward once he noticed that you weren't responding and grabbed onto your hand, gently shaking you to get your attention.

"Hey, look at me," he commanded, his tone of voice a bit more firm.

He gestured towards the blanket and the fact that you were wrapped up in it.

"This does not define who you are. It's a part of you, and we've accepted that," he said before poking at your forehead again, "but it doesn't change who you are."

You felt your eyes begin to heat up as he spoke the words that you needed to hear—that you were more than just your depression, and that no matter how much your depression was weighing you down right now, that he still, and always will, see you as the same person that he fell in love with all those years ago.

The tears threatening to gather in your eyes was a sign of progress. At least you were feeling something now.

Noticing that his words had struck a chord within you, he pulled you into him, placing his hand on the back of your head as you buried your face into the nape of his neck, giving you the space to simply exist and process those emotions you were finally able to get yourself to feel again.

Depression was a bitch to live with. The moment you were told that this could be something you'd always have to deal with from time to time, and that it's hard to say if it'll ever truly go away—you were mortified. The idea of having to do this randomly, with there being nothing you could do to stop it made you want to cry and give up—but Levi was always there to pick you back up.

Although you were still the one that had to drag yourself up, Levi kept you from falling further into the trenches. Unlike everyone else that either looked at you with pity or continued to mutter empty phrases like "it'll pass" or "you'll get better", Levi just accepted you for who you were—because as he said, whether you lived with depression or not, he would always love you for who you were.

#: @chaotic-on-main @romantichomicide95 @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @grav3bab3 @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @lovedbylevi @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @deepzombieyouth @evas-leslas join my taglist!

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi fluff #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

187 notes · View notes

champi8n · 1 year

Text

die for you | ethan landry

ethan landry x fem reader

warnings: slightly suggestive

sypnosis: ethan isn’t sure wether his feelings for you are unrequited until he finally opens his eyes

ethan had been watching you for a while and he believes developing feelings for you has been one of the worst things to ever happen to him

you and ethan met at a frat party through chad, he thought it would be a good idea to introduce you two to each other since according to chad you both fit perfectly in his definition of “geeks”

geeks are often associated to be losers like him but ethan knew from the moment he laid his eyes on you that you were no geek, he knew from the way you spoke to him so confidently and how you’re body language radiated control

he knew from how he had seen you dancing earlier and from how he wasn’t able to take his eyes off you, well it wasn’t just him but what in his eyes is everybody

you were charming and you had him wrapped around your finger from that first conversation, ethan remembers the sound of your laughter as he told you a dumb star wars joke and how your eyes seemed to sparkle from the low lights in the room

you stayed with him in a corner of the party all night and ethan is sure you only did that because you felt bad as you realised he was left alone, yet he wasn’t complaining because from that day on you guys became good friends

you and ethan had a free period at the same time so when you saw him waiting by a cafe near campus you approached him straight away without a single drop of shyness

was he shocked? yes, he wasn’t used to being approached in such a warm manner by people he’s only talked to once, he was more used to people pretending he doesn’t exist after they’ve had conversations with him yet he wasn’t complaining about that change in his routine

you guys talked about anything and soon you became someone very special in his heart, he knew he felt attraction towards you from when he first met you but he didn’t expect attraction to turn into real feelings

“what if you just tell her you have a friend that looks just likes you that thinks she’s fine?” chad spoke

ethan had been laying on the floor of their room staring at the roof for around an hour while having a small therapy session with chad

he wasn’t really sure how chad could help him get over his feelings for you but he definitely knew more than himself, he was inexperienced, clumsy, and he’s gotten rejected by all of his crushes with them saying “ew” at him

“she’s obviously gonna know i’m talking about myself, chad” ethan sighed, turning his head to the left to make eye contact with chad “you know she once told me about how she hates being hit on, what if she starts hating me?”

“that’s not gonna happen because she obviously has the feels for you” ethan frowned, almost sure that chad was probably delusional

“i don’t know what world you’re living in, but i’m quite sure she will never look at me that way, it’s like she doesn’t take me seriously”

“are you kidding? ethan i’ve seen the way y/n looks at you and believe me i’ve heard her talk about you too” as soon as those words came out of chad’s mouth, ethan immediately sat up intrigued

“what has she said?” chad notices the light in ethan’s eyes and proceeds to let out a chuckle at seeing how childishly in love he looks

“well whenever she sees me she asks about you, or when we are talking she brings you up at random moments” a tiny smile begins to form in ethan’s face, he’s using all of his force to try and block that smile away but the joy of knowing you talk about him too is overwhelming for him “oh wait, i just remembered something... we once played smash or pass and she said she would smash you�� chad said "she didn't even hesitate, I remember"

ethan’s jaw dropped a little bit at the unexpected comment causing chad to burst out laughing even more

“shut up, it’s not funny!” ethan threw a pillow at him, flustered and embarrassed at how chad seemed entertained with his excitement

“god you’re such a virgin” chad said between chuckles, causing ethan to stand up ready to defend himself

but as he was walking towards chad, the two of them heard something. three knocks at the door left him and chad frozen while they both stared at the source of the noise

it was midnight and he wasn’t used to the door being knocked at such late hours, specially on a tuesday

him and chad share a confused look and as ethan is slowly walking towards the door to peek through the peep hole, two more knocks were heard but this time accompanied with a voice

“ethan? it’s me”

he heard you whisper and as soon as you did he felt panic run through his body as he realised he was only wearing a black tank top paired with R2 D2 pijama trousers

he was going to try and change his outfit quick but his fear came true as soon as chad opened the door, revealing you with a zip up sweater and low waisted jeans

“hey y/n, what’s up?” chad smiled at you, gesture which you did back “i was just going out to buy some … crack” chad said, leaving you a little bit confused but you weren’t gonna question it

“okay, have fun…i guess?” you watched as chad walked off, mumbling a yep, making you lay your eyes back on ethan

you had never seen ethan wearing anything like what he was wearing and you were completely not expecting it

you let your eyes wander for a minute, looking at him shamelessly, you could feel your heart racing as you realise how muscly he actually was and how strong he seems, yet it was all contrasted with his pijama bottoms and you couldn’t help but think he’s adorable

ethan did not let that go pass him, he saw the way you had checked him out and a light pink covered his cheeks, embarrassed and at the same time curious on wether you liked what you see

“are you okay, shouldn’t you be finishing your log?” ethan asked, you had mentioned earlier this week you had a final piece of coursework for your major

you were a fashion major so your work for school was almost always practical

“i know but i just…” you paused, mouth dry at the sight of him and fingers fidgeting because of your nerves “i needed to see you”

ethan raises his eyebrows, surprised at the remark and honestly speechless

“move, let me come in” you pushed past him, making yourself comfortable in his bed trying to leave what you said behind, ethan followed you with his eyes, closing the door behind him and sitting backwards on chad’s chair

“I need you to be my model for my piece and I must take your measurements” you dropped one of the reasons for your visit, ready to hear ethan's complaining

“no!" he said, not even thinking it through "there is no way in hell I'm modeling"

“why not? you're perfect model material" you sat up in his bed, looking at him with pleading eyes

"are you crazy? chad is more model material than me, models are meant to be pretty-"

"and you're pretty, you're a pretty boy!" you cut him off, not even thinking twice before letting your thoughts out

ethan raised his eyebrows at your comment, letting his mouth fall open but he couldn't seem to form anything coherent to say

noticing how you left him speechless you decide to keep talking "please just be my model, i really want to make you something"

the boy sighed, he felt powerless under your gaze and at the same time at complete peace

"fine" he rolled his eyes and you immediately jumped out of his bed to give him a warm hug that was well received by ethan since you could feel him caressing your back

"thank you, thank you, thank you! i promise you won't regret it, it's going to be so much fun" you pulled back, smiling at him and pulling from your back pocket a roll of measuring tape

"wow you knew I wasn't going to say no, didn't you?” ethan asked seeing how moved to chad's desk, grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil and putting them on the floor next to him

"okay, here's what i need you to do, you're gonna stand still and look pretty, okay" you grabbed his shoulders as you spoke and then proceeded to kneel down in front of him

you caught him off guard a hundred percent, i mean, you were on your knees in front of him and his brain forgot what you actually intended to do until he saw your hand reach for the measuring tape

he gulped as he looked down on you and he tried to focus on literally anything else that would push his dirty thoughts away yet his attempts were useless as he felt your hands around his waist raising his tank top up a little and wrapping the tape around his skin

you moved to his side and then wrote down on the piece of paper a number he couldn't really see from where he was

after that you measured his leg length and then stood up to do his shoulders and torso, you seemed so concentrated he couldn't help but admire the way you bit your lip and the way your eyes mildly squinted to read the numbers in the tape

there was silence but it wasn't awkward, it was comfortable and he swore he could stay like this forever, watching you do your work and appreciating every small detail about you

"one sec" you said, interrupting his thoughts, you took off your zip up sweater leaving it in the hanger the boys had in their room, revealing the white tube top you had hidden underneath, leaving ethan stunned

you weren't naive and you noticed how ethan's adam's apple bounced as his eyes looked away from you, happy on the inside that you seemed to have an effect on him

"you seem nervous" you walked towards him, a small smile painted in your face from how he couldn't look you in the eye "you're going to be amazing as my model, you shouldn't be" he looked at you, giving you a tense smile

ethan felt a little relieved since he thought you had caught on to him yet his eyes followed your movements as you put your arms on his shoulders, massaging them slowly and ready to make your move

"you’re acting as if you have a little crush…" you teased him, seeing how his eyes widened “on me”

“what?!” he screamed followed by incoherent words and stuttering “I don't know what you're talking about, I don't... like you” he stated, hoping he sounded believable

disappointment ran through your body, feeling how your chest started to feel heavy as embarrassment got a hold of you

he noticed how your expression changed and how you almost seemed sad, yet he couldn't understand why

until it hit him, what if he was wrong all along? what if chad was right and you actually felt the same as him? what if he just ruined his chances with you and he just hurt your feelings on accident?

he stood there frozen in his place as you put strands of your hair behind your ear, quickly moving to pick up the measuring tape from the floor and the piece of paper, folding it as fast as you can and putting it in your back pocket

you were confident and strong but if you were being honest it was mostly a big facade and deep inside you can't help but be extremely sensitive, no matter how much you try to hide it

you felt like an idiot as you quickly rolled the measuring tape, thinking about how stupid of you it was to have such the audacity to be as delusional to listen to your friends and believe ethan could actually feel something for you too

you were dying of nerves as you walked to his dorm that evening yet as you stood outside you were built with courage to try and make a real move on ethan today, not just telling him his hair looked nice or that you liked his shirt like you always did

now you were just filled with regret as you couldn't even look him in the eyes “i'm going to go now, I'll text you if um, when the piece is done”

you quickly walked towards his door, wanting to escape the silence that was slowly becoming unbearable for you as fast as you could, not even bothering to get your zip up

as you opened the door ready to walk away you heard him move behind you and soon you felt a hand wrap around your arm, pulling you back harshly

“don’t please” he said before quickly engulfing you in a soft kiss

your hands found their place in his hair as his went to your waist, you caressed his hair as you felt him feel your back

the kiss was soft and gentle, yet the innocence of the kiss quickly escalated into a hungry kiss, he bit softly at your lip to your surprise but you were not going to complain

it was almost desperate but at the same time deeply sentimental almost as if he was transmitting all of his feelings and desires to you, he had longed for you for a while now and he needed you to know

soon you were pressed against his wall as you wished for the moment to never end but of course, all that's good has to end

as you both were running out of breath he pulled away from you in a delicate manner, leaving you feeling as if you were going to melt away from how overwhelmed you felt by your own feelings

he chuckled lightly, resting his forehead on your shoulder and you did the same, laughing in disbelief at what just happened

“are you sure you're a virgin?” you asked, making him laugh even more, you could see his chest going up and down from him trying to catch his breath again

he looked up at you again, big wide smile on his face, his cheeks had a red flush and his eyes glittered, making you have a funny feeling in your stomach at how perfect he looked

“just in case you didn't catch the hint... i like you a lot” he said, making you smile in relief

“no way, really?” you said jokingly, making him roll his eyes “if you really do then I think you should go on a date with me tomorrow” his eyebrows raised in surprise, did you just ask him out on a date?

“you're going to kill me someday” he said, walking backwards and brushing a hand through his hair, you bite your lip, nervous but trying to not let the nerves get the best of you

“is that a yes?” you ask and you look as he laughs

“of course it's a yes dumbass, can you not see how flustered you've made me?” you chuckle, looking at him with glowy eyes, completely immersed in the boy in front of you “why are you looking at me like that?”he asked

“like what?”you replied, completely oblivious to what he meant, making him sigh

“with those eyes, you’re making me nervous!” he replied making you laugh

“well then i’m gonna leave now so you can relax” you said as you walked over to the hanger, getting your zip up to then head towards the already open door

ethan rested his arm on the door frame, leaning towards it as you stood outside “will you call?” he asked, making you want to kiss him again

“no, i’ll send a bird to your window holding a message, it’s more romantic” you leaned in to kiss him cheek and with that you start walking away

“text me when you get to your room” he screamed down the hallway, watching you as you turned back while you walked

“i will!” you reply with a smile, swinging your hips as you walked away overwhelmed with happiness

ethan closed his door and went straight fall on his bed, he couldn’t get that dumb smile off his face and he laughed at himself because of how wrong he was, he doesn’t know what you saw in him but who’s he to complain? he finally has the girl of his dreams smiling because of him

he’s grateful to whatever it was because now that he has you, he doesnt plan on letting you go

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ghostface #ghostface x you #scream 6 #scream #fluff

832 notes · View notes

makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Text

Half Eaten Bagels // J. Todd x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: this has heavy discussion of emotional abuse by parents (I literally used a memory of my own home life, thank u therapy), emotional/panic attacks, discussion of food/food waste, disparaging comments made by parents that have been internalized

Summary: Jason had a shit patrol and you try to fix things only for familiar thought processes return from your past.

He didn’t mean to be angry.

You understood that, you really did. Jason wasn’t usually the kind of guy who slammed doors and let his frustration boil over and spill onto you, but today wasn’t a normal day. A drug bust yesterday had gone wrong and people were injured. Civilians and batlings. Jason hated being injured, but not more than he hated others getting hurt for what he deemed to be his failure.

So when you woke up to the sound of the front door slamming that morning, an unsettling emotion sank into the pit of your stomach.

“Jay?” you called softly as you climbed out of bed. You tugged the hem of his sweatshirt down until it hung to your thigh. A pair of soft sleep shorts were hidden underneath, but you didn’t care about propriety. You cared about the safety this single piece of fabric provided.

Quietly, you made your way out of the bedroom and found Jason at the fridge. His shoulders were tight and tense and you could see the edges of bandages peeking out from under his collar.

“Here, let me cook breakfast,” you exclaimed. Jason turned, not surprised by your presence but certainly surprised by your offer. He usually was the one to cook breakfast because it gave him a chance to do something for you before he sent you off to work and then took a nap. You rarely cooked breakfast since your culinary expertise focused more on dinner.

Jason decided not to argue and instead stepped away from the fridge. “I bought more eggs at the bodega and some milk.”

“Okay.” You spoke softly, ensuring that your voice wouldn’t raise at all so he wouldn’t view it as a challenge. That’s how your parents always viewed it. Surviving was simple. Don’t talk back, don’t raise your voice, and just accept whatever they say.

“Here, why don’t you go sit down and watch TV or something?” You pushed him towards the couch, ignoring the confused look he shot your way. Luckily you didn’t work today so you weren’t in a rush, but you also didn’t want to mistime your cooking and give Jason cold food. As you began to fry the eggs, you glanced nervously back at where he was seated.

Yeah, bad move.

The oil popped and caught you on the cheek. You let out a sharp hiss of pain and pressed your finger against the spot in an attempt to soothe the sharp, stinging spot on your skin. Jason was halfway up off the couch when you waved him off.

“Don’t worry. Just me being stupid.”

He sat back down, but kept his gaze on you. Being under his stare was making your stomach roil. Was he waiting for you to fuck up again? No, Jason wasn’t like that. You were being unreasonable. Irrational.

But that’s the thing about anxiety. It’s irrational.

“Damnit.” This time, the bacon grease had caught your wrist and you shook it out quickly before grabbing your spatula again. You also needed to get the coffee machine started because Jason always had the french roast with a shot of creamer and a spoonful of sugar. The bread needed to be in the toaster in the next minute. Was there jelly in the fridge? He liked strawberry jelly on his toast. Did you forget to buy more when you got groceries? Shit.

“What can I help with?” Jason asked.

“Nothing, Jay. I’ve got it.”

His large hand enclosed around your wrist as you went to flip the eggs and you immediately wrenched away from his grasp.

“I said I’ve got it!” Jason stood in stunned silence at your outburst and you immediately dropped the spatula on the ground and sank to your knees. Your arms came up to cover your head as a bone-wracking sob tore through your body.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. Wh-what can I do to fix it?” You didn’t want to look at him and see his frustrated face. You didn’t want to know how badly you fucked up.

You waited.

Nothing.

You hesitantly peeked up from the protective cradle your arms had created. The stove and oven had been turned off and Jason sat in front of you on the kitchen floor. His knees were drawn up to his chest but they were spread apart instead of guarding himself like you were. Instead of anger on his handsome face, there was only worry.

“What’s going on?” he finally asked. The words weren’t accusative, but rather a gentle exploration. You shut your eyes and looked away form him, the words to explain getting lost in your frustration. Jason sighed and scooted closer. You didn’t flinch back, but you did keep turned away from him.

“I was late for the bus once,” you said. “And food wasn’t allowed on so I ate half of my bagel and tossed the other half into the trash. I was eleven, y’know? I didn’t think about wrapping it up or saving it or anything but I’m getting off track. I didn’t think about it anymore, right? But then my mom called when she was leaving work to tell me to do the dishes and I could tell she was angry. She and dad had been fighting the night before and I guess work hadn’t made it any easier.

I figured I would be a good kid and do more than do the dishes. I was eleven and I swept and mopped the kitchen floor, I prepared the ingredients for dinner and had it laid out on the counter for her when she came home, and I cleaned off the dining room table. And when she walked in the door, I was doing homework at the table. The perfect kid. Quiet, hardworking, doing more chores than asked.”

Jason was silent as he listened to you. He could sense that there was something heavy hanging around your neck, but you had never elected to share. You always felt as though he suffered enough.

“But that damn bagel…” You took a deep breath in to steady yourself and finally turned your head to look him in the eye, a bitter smile playing on your lips. “She saw it on the top of the trash and lost her shit. Screamed about how fucking useless I was and wasteful. Said I was a waste of space and time. Said she regretted having me. Because of a bagel. I went to bed hungry that night because if I stayed in her eyesight, she would just find new things to be mad at. The utensils weren’t in the right drawers, I got the wrong kind of cheese out, I don’t know.

I learned to manage. I learned to keep her and my dad happy to survive. Being useful meant that I wasn’t worthless or a waste of space. It made me feel like they wouldn’t be able to get rid of me.”

A sob boiled up in your lungs, through your throat, until you were choking on the depths of your childish grief and Jason was at your side in an instant. One of his hands cradled your head to his chest as the other stroked up and down your spine.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you chanted.

“No. No, stop apologizing. Nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry I came in so angry.” He pressed kisses to your temple, forehead, hair as he whispered quiet apologies and faint praises.

“This is your home,” you whimpered. “You have a right to be whatever the fuck you want. You shouldn’t repress your anger because of me.”

He sighed and rested his chin on the top of your head. “You’re right. I just…I can’t see you like this again, sweetheart. You were freaking me the fuck out. And don’t you fuckin’ apologize.”

You hummed, your ear nestling against the fabric of his shirt and right over where his heart rested in his chest. The steady beat lulled you, regulating your breathing and heart rate with his. In and out. In and out. Your hips nestled between his legs, his strong hands holding you up…you had never felt more safe.

“How about this?” His breath washed over your cheek and you tilted your head up to take in the sight of his furrowed brow and sharp, calculating eyes. “You know how we have a safeword for scenes?”

You nodded, curious as to where he was going with this. Jason licked his dry lips and then grimaced before continuing. “What if we make a safe word for this? Anytime I think you’re in a bad headspace or you find yourself falling back into old patterns, we call the word and time out. Sit down, talk it out, get out of the house, do something that isn’t some sort of task you think you need to do to appease me.”

“Yeah, that could work.”

“Alright.” HIs cool lips pressed against your temple once again. “How does Pluto sound?”

You giggled. “Like the planet?”

“Good, you still acknowledge its rightful designation. Does that work?”

“Yeah.”

Jason squeezed your hip and then made you sit up and face him. He wiped away the sticky tears that were quickly drying on your skin and then grasped your hands. He rose them to his face and pressed a delicate kiss to each palm.

“What word do we use for the bedroom?” he asked.

“Giraffe.”

Jason kissed your inner wrist. “Good. And for outside of the bedroom?”

“Pluto.”

He kissed the other wrist and then pulled you into his chest once more. “Good. That’s good.”

“I’m sorry the food’s cold,” you whispered against his cheek.

“Don’t you worry about that right now. I gotcha.”

Tag List: @khaetiin @mcrmarvelloki @gone-batty-fics @someoneimsure @perpetual-fangirl900 @visagebrise @cursedandromedablack @alexxavicry @the-wayward-daughter @raging-trash-of-mind @kat-nee @khaylin27

#red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood fluff #jason todd drabble #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction

994 notes · View notes

malfoyswand · 1 year

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

summary: draco malfoy comforts you about your biggest insecurity.

word count: 1.5k

genre: fluff

warnings: bullying, insecurities, one instance of swearing, a little bit of nudity (but nothing sexual)

author's note: honestly writing this was like free therapy to me. i plan to write and post a part two to this (featuring smut, everybody cheer) in a couple of days too!

➪ masterlist | requests

You couldn't help but let a sigh escape from your lips as you heard the sound of knocking on your door. Truthfully, if you could have it your way, you would be content with not seeing another human being for the rest of the day.

"Can you come back later? I'm trying to sleep." You called out from your bed, pulling your blankets over your head to block out the knocking. Sleep was far from your mind, you only wished to be alone with your sorrow.

The knocking ceased. Just as you thought whoever it was had walked away, you heard the door creak open anyway. It was probably one of your roommates, you hoped they would leave soon enough.

You felt someone lift up the blankets slightly and lay down next to you in the bed. Turning your head slightly, you saw it was Draco Malfoy. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, but the pain in his eyes saddened you further.

"We both know you're not going to sleep yet, (Y/N)." Draco spoke softly, one of his arms wrapping itself around your shoulders. "Now, please tell me what happened out there."

The last thing you wanted to do was talk about that, but you knew your boyfriend deserved some sort of explanation for your sudden behavior.

The last Saturday of May was always spent with Draco and his group of friends. It was tradition at this point to spend the whole day at the Black Lake, swimming and getting into all sorts of mischief. However, this year was slightly different. Draco Malfoy had finally asked you to be his girlfriend a few months prior.

While it seemed as if everyone else in the group was ecstatic, Pansy Parkinson was not. You had known for a long time that she had developed a crush on Draco, and wasn't too pleased when Draco had turned her down. Ever since, the tension between the girl who used to be your best friend and yourself has been difficult for you to manage.

Pansy had finally snapped at the Black Lake and told you how she had felt. While you were watching the Slytherin boys play some sort of game near the water, Pansy sat next to you. The conversation started off pleasant, but it quickly turned brutal.

It started off with Pansy complimenting your navy blue bikini, but in the same breath, she mentioned that "it's brave of you to wear something that revealing, considering your marks and all." Her hands touched the stretch marks on your stomach and thighs, giving them a pinch. You felt your breath become trapped in your throat, she knew they were your biggest insecurity.

Before you could even think, you found yourself running away from the lake, not even noticing Draco was following your footsteps.

As you told this story to him, you could see him clench his jaw in anger. "That bitch. Does she not realize what she did was cruel? I'm going to have a talk with her tomorrow, and if she continues, let me know. I will fix this, she can’t talk to you like this and get away with it."

"Draco, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to run off like that. Just give me a minute, I'll come back-" Before you could finish the offer, you felt his lips press softly against yours. He pulled away all too soon, resting his forehead on yours.

"Oh hush, darling. They'll be alright without us, we're staying right here." To further his point, he pulled you into his arms. There was no other place you would rather be trapped. Only then did you realize he was still in his swim trunks, with no shirt. "I need to make sure that you know you are beautiful."

"I-I'm not." It came out as a quiet, defeated whisper as you felt the sobs begin again. Your insecurities were something you never shared with your boyfriend before, you didn't want to burden him any further.

"Oh.." Draco slightly panicked, not sure exactly what to do. He had never seen you cry before. "No, no. Please don't say that. Pansy couldn't have been more wrong, you look like an angel. Why would you think any different?"

It was hard to speak, between your cries and your voice being muffled from Draco pulling you closer to him. He wiped away each tear that fell, listening intently as you spoke.

"Because of what she said. I mean, she was right. I have stretch marks all over me, and the bikini only just shows them even more. I don't know what I was thinking! They make me so ugly and it's embarrassing, when no other girl there had them."

One of his hands moved your chin upwards, forcing your eyes to meet his gray ones. "Stop it right there, (Y/N). You are not ugly, and who cares about some marks? You are absolutely perfect in my eyes."

He must have been able to tell that a part of you didn't believe him. You knew he loved you and would never lie to you, he truly did think you were beautiful. But you couldn't bring yourself to think of yourself in that way.

You felt him shift next to you as he sat up, moving the blankets away so he could see you fully. You were still in that cursed bikini, biting your lip as you realized he could now see you in broad daylight. "Draco, what are you doing?"

"Well if you won't believe my words, maybe you'll believe my actions." A small smile spread on his face as his hands gently found themselves roaming down your body, his eyes soaking in every piece of exposed skin he could. You were about to protest to explain that you weren't in the mood for anything his mind might come up with.

"Before you ask, no, I'm not trying to initiate anything else. Would it be okay if I touched your stomach?" It was as if he could read your mind. You were terrified that if Draco touched your stomach and felt the marks that had invaded your skin, he would become disgusted. But at the same time, his touch was comforting. It was something you knew could calm you down.

With a nod, he grinned and lowered himself down until his eyes were level with your stomach. His fingertips gently caressed down until they reached your lower abdomen. "Merlin, you're beautiful. You belong in a museum of art, my love."

His words made you blush bright red, as your hands covered your face to hide this fact. "Hardly." That was all you could manage to choke out between your embarrassment and the sobs that still begged to break free from your chest.

"Please, look at me." You obeyed, placing your hands at your side once more and looking down to look at Draco. "I'm not kidding around, you are stunning. If anything, these marks make you even more so."

You felt his fingertips gently graze upon each stretch mark, your breath hitching as he did so. His lips replaced them in an instant, as he kissed each mark he could find. Eventually, the path of marks led him to pulling down your bikini bottom very slightly to only kiss the ones on your hips.

You knew he could feel every slight bump on his lips, the thought of it filled you with shame. His kisses were feather-like, it was as if he was afraid that if he kissed your skin too hard, you would break underneath him. But as you looked at him, he didn't seem to mind.

If anything, Draco Malfoy seemed to adore it. He kept his eyes mostly on yours, but occasionally, he would look down at the stretch marks before him. His kisses were slow, as if he was trying to take his time in memorizing every curve of each mark. His hands gently rubbed the curves of your waist, smiling to himself as he felt your body relax at his touch.

Once he was finally done kissing each mark he could find, you couldn't help but smile at the look of achievement on his face. His eyes seemed to have a glimmer to them, as if he had just won a prize.

"Actually, I take back my statement from before. You're not just something to be put in a museum for people to look at, until they get bored and move along. You deserve something much more permanent, like a sculpture to last the ages."

"What?" A look of confusion spread across your face. What was Malfoy going on about, comparing you to pieces that belonged in some sort of art collection?

"What I mean is," a soft laugh came from Draco's lips as he laid down next to you again, his fingers caressing your jawline this time around. "You should be worshiped, darling. Please never repeat the words you said earlier. Those marks are breathtaking, I could spend eternity kissing them.”

You could feel the tears form in the corner of your eyes, but from joy instead of sorrow. Draco was puzzled, worried that his words may have hurt you unintentionally. You learned your head into the crook of his neck, feeling his hands caress your back.

“I thought you would hate them, you know?” You managed to whisper into his shirt. He responded by shushing you, his fingertips finding their way through your hair.

“I could never, (Y/N). I’ve never seen anything, or anyone, more beautiful.”

#draco #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco fanfic #draco malfoy fic #draco fic #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #draco lucius malfoy #draco fluff #draco malfoy fluff

1K notes · View notes

circe69 · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌.

simon "ghost" riley x reader

repost from a few days ago, i fixed it up a lil' and am putting it back out there again. "you look slutty as ever, y/n."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Previously this morning, you had a very important mission that required your services as being the bait, essentially making yourself as desirable as possible to obtain whatever information your boss needed, even if it was the smallest of knowledge. Your tight, velvety, black dress and strapped heels weren't your usual attire, of course, but the rest of the task force knew the reason you had been hired, so it wouldn't strike them as strange when you greeted them.

You walked into the dining area to find your whole troop congregating around the round tables placed randomly along small room. Some were talking to each other, laughing, making jokes they were too old to make, others were eating, keeping to themselves. Your eyes scanned the entire room before taking a seat yourself, the metal screeching on the tile as you scooted in.

"Look who it 's," a voice came from across the room, bouncing off those stupid ugly walls. The unnaturally low voice came from none other than Ghost himself, perhaps the most annoying man you'd ever had the pleasure of engaging with. He sauntered over to you, splitting the waters of men paying close attention to where he walked, watching one muddy boot stomp in front of the other.

You stayed silent. Even as he neared you, you refused to look up. You glanced over to the granite counters, finding the dozens of hot coffees you had bought for the whole team. Sure, most of them were unbearable, but you were feeling nice this morning. There was something so refreshing about doing something for someone else with a genuine purpose. It was exhausting, throwing yourself at old, creepy men and pretending to be in love for even a sliver of understanding about your enemies, when you were quite the opposite.

You felt Ghost's eyes on you, never lingering in one place but instead traveling the entirety of your body. His eyes being like lasers, you felt the sting of every exposed inch being singed. "You look slutty as ever, Y/N." His body bended down to your level, his head slightly cocking to the side as he spoke. You stayed quiet still, even though your head was reeling with heavy-toned remarks and insults that would make the man before you grovel in embarrassment. You took a sip of your latte, and carefully set the cup back down on the table before making direct eye contact with him.

You hadn't ever truly enjoyed Ghost's company; you weren't sure if anyone did. There had been rumors of him having a terrible past, terrible childhood, and maybe if he had been nicer, more charming, you would've had sympathy.

Your eyes burned into his, it was the only place they could burn into. Everything else was covered, and you liked to imagine his mask of more of a security blanket than anything. Ghost, the all-knowing and powerful, deadly monster needed a mask on at all times to appear mysterious and aloof. Maybe he really did just like the masks, maybe he liked the attention, maybe you needed therapy for always imagining the worst of everyone.

You opened your mouth, "Yeah, well this slut just bought you coffee."

The chair screeches and gasps from your teammates harmonized as you stood abruptly, forcing Ghost to blink at your sudden movement.

"I've had it with your inappropriate, unoriginal remarks. It's highly unprofessional for a man of your talent and reputation to go around calling your fellow soldier something of that manner."

He smiled that deathly smile, you swear you saw the fabric glide across his face, and you hated how much you liked it. "Rather predictable of me, right? Isn't that what you said to Price a few weeks ago when you were spilling your secrets to him?"

Your knuckles were white, out of embarrassment or rage you weren't sure. All you knew was that getting under people's skin was Ghost's specialty, and you were no exception.

"Quite the opposite, sir."

His hand slammed on the table, making your drink spill onto the floor. Your body reacted in a way that was somewhat embarrassing, you knew just how much flinching out of fear encouraged him to just scare you more.

"Don't talk to your Lieutenant like that." His eyes grew dark, and as uninviting as they were, you didn't dare to break from them to watch the troop leave quietly.

You took a step closer to him, your black, blood-stained stiletto hitting the marble floor inches away from his feet. You leaned up to whisper in his ear, "I won't waste one minute to reciprocate how you talk to me. I'll do it well," you paused to stomp on his toes with your heel, forcing a pained groan out of his mouth, "and I'll enjoy it too."

You crossed your arms as you watched his seemingly indestructible body writhe. He sat down in a chair and whispered curses under his uneven breath.

He slowly looked up at you and didn't fail to notice your magnificent posture, your heavenly glow beaming from your face only got brighter when you inflicted pain on someone who needed to be taught a lesson. Ghost calmly stood and as his height grew, your eyes stayed glued onto his. You always hated how much taller he was than you; his ego was tall enough. All the sudden, Price walked into the room, followed by a few of his new trainees.

Ghost took a step forward and slid a hand up your thigh, only to rest it on your hip and leaned down to whisper in your ear,

"Meet me in my room."

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #modern warfare #simon riley x you #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #ghost imagine #simon riley headcanons #circe69scribbles

909 notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

For the requests: traumatized steve & eddie going to a wolf sanctuary and eddie watching steve basically live with the wolves in their area. And the one wolf,the one that hated everyone, the one who meaner and didn't get along with anyone to its cruel abusive situation (perhaps it was raised from puppyhood and onwards by people who used it in dogfighting, before it was rescued, that wolf, goes right up to Steve and sits by him. Giving him comfort. When Steve has bad nightmares he goes to that wolf's pen and they sleep cuddled together bc that wolf also has nightmares. (It can also be a wolfdog)

AS ALWAYS YOU COME THROUGH WITH SOMETHING FUN AND CREATIVE AND AS ALWAYS I MAKE IT EMOTIONAL AS SHIT!!! I was feelin' some type of way yesterday and started on this at peak emotional upheaval, which is really something I don't recommend. As many things tend to do, this got away from me and I think I could've still let it keep going, but I had to cut it off. Hope you love it!!! - Mickala ❤️

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

It was Robin’s idea.

She knew therapy wasn’t working. She knew firsthand that the nightmares, especially Steve’s, were impossible to handle some nights.

She stayed with him enough after the Russians to know he was averaging four hours of restless sleep on a good night.

And now that he’d seen the horrors of the Upside Down, and Eddie almost dying, and Max almost dying, and the guilt of just existing, they were worse.

Eddie had them, but he was usually able to calm down relatively quickly, usually even fall back into a dreamless sleep after.

His problem was just seeing the bats everywhere, even when he was awake. A large bird would fly by and he was ducking for cover like a bomb would be dropped on him. He’d hear screeching, sometimes even just kids yelling at the park, and he’d have a panic attack.

Drastically different problems, but Robin said this could help with both of them.

So Steve and Eddie stood outside the wolf sanctuary, staring at the front office entrance where they were told to check in.

They glanced at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

It’s not that they were scared. They’d been told about the process on the phone in great detail, the sanctuary director answering all of their questions in a friendly tone.

She’d said that the wolf sanctuary had been used as a form of therapy for people for years now, though many psychiatrists didn’t consider it an appropriate treatment.

Considering Steve and Eddie had been seeing a professional psychiatrist for months now with no progress and serious weight loss and migraines from their prescriptions, they were willing to give this a fair shot.

But their fear that it wouldn’t work kept circling through their minds.

If this didn’t work, they weren’t sure what else they could possibly try.

That was terrifying.

They were supposed to stay for a month, with the option of extending the stay if they felt they needed it.

It was expensive.

But this was on the US government, and Eddie was always quick to spend their money for his benefit.

Steve was just along for the ride.

They walked in together, both nervously looking around at the chairs and desks, bookshelves, pictures of wolves and mountains on the walls, and one small, gray-haired woman at the front desk.

“Oh, aren’t you two precious! Which one’s Steve and which one’s Eddie?”

“I’m Steve,” Eddie smirked as he held out his hand.

Steve smacked his arm.

“He’s Eddie, and he’s probably gonna be this way the whole time. Sorry in advance,” Steve told the woman.

“This is wonderful! You’ll be fun to have around. I’m Fran, I run the front office. I spoke to you the other day on the phone a bit about the check in. Are you boys ready?”

They both nodded.

She clapped her hands together in excitement.

Steve could tell Eddie loved her. She was full of theatrics like he was, every word punctuated by an exaggerated movement.

“First, the boring part. We did some of the first part over the phone, but these packets need to be filled out completely and given back to me. You can have a seat anywhere to do those. When that’s done, I’ll show you where to bring your bags so you can unpack and get comfortable. We can do a tour before dinner.”

She placed the packets on the desk in front of her, then took two pens out of a mug and placed them down too.

“If you have any questions, let me know. You two are just the cutest!”

She walked through a small doorway a few feet behind her desk and they grabbed the packets to start filling them out.

The first page was basic personal information, which had been filled out already. The second page was emergency contact information and how they were referred. But the third page is where it got difficult.

It has questions like “What is your worst memory?” and “Who is the person you would most expect to protect you in a life or death situation? Why?”

And while Eddie and Steve could probably answer those easily from terrible experiences, there was a lot they weren’t allowed to say.

So they just stuck with the official government stories for any and all Upside Down related parts, which was most of them.

Fran bustled back in, two steaming mugs in her hands. She set them on her desk carefully and then walked over to where Eddie was sitting.

“How’s it going?”

“Good. Almost done,” he smiled up at her.

“And you, dear?” She asked Steve.

“Good. I’m sorry I write kind of slow.”

Steve’s face was red, like he was embarrassed. Eddie watched as he focused on the paper in front of him, his hand moving slowly across the paper.

Steve’s concussions had a lot of lasting effects; migraines and one ear that was barely working, the occasional speech delay, and an inconvenient struggle with writing, especially if it was answering questions about himself like this.

Eddie distracted Fran as he wrote his last answer, talking to her about her favorite part of the sanctuary and how long she’s been working here.

He handed the packet to her when he was done, glancing over at Steve to see he was just starting on the last page.

“Hey, Fran, would it be okay if you helped me get our bags from the car while Steve finishes up?”

Steve sent him a grateful smile as he continued answering the questions on the paper.

As he walked with Fran to the car, she touched his arm.

“He’s got a lot going on, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. He’s been dealing with this a lot longer than I have,” Eddie smiled sadly at her, touching her hand to accept the comfort she was giving and give some in return. “I hope this works for both of us, but I’d be happy as long as it works for him.”

“You care a lot about him.”

It wasn’t a question, and her tone wasn’t judging, but Eddie could just tell. He should panic, he should tell her it wasn’t like that. And it wasn’t for Steve.

But he’d been hiding it for so long, and somehow successfully, he couldn’t lie to her.

“I love him. He doesn’t know how much. I did this for him, mostly. I mean I want it to help me too, but I know he wouldn’t have tried this if I didn’t come and he,” Eddie sighed. “He needs this. He can’t keep going like he has been.”

Fran pulled him into a hug and he did all he could not to start crying.

“He’s lucky to have you on his side no matter what, darling. And I’d bet anything he thinks the same of you,” she said softly.

“I don’t think it’s quite the same. He loves me like a friend, but he’s not…not like me.”

Gay. He wasn’t gay. Or even a little into men. Eddie was sure of that.

Fran pulled away and just smiled at him.

“Okay, then. Let’s get these bags inside.”

They managed to bring everything in in one trip, and by the time they made it back inside, Steve was done with his packet.

“Alright!” Fran clapped her hands together in excitement. “To your room!”

Eddie’s eyes widened.

“Room? Like, just one?”

“Yep! The other room we have for long-term residents is already taken for the next few weeks. Will that be okay?”

She was smiling innocently at Eddie, who knew she knew why he was suddenly panicking.

“That’s fine. We end up sharing a room all the time, right, Eds?” Steve asked as he grabbed his own bags from the floor.

“Uh. Yep. Totally fine.”

“Great!”

She led them out the back of the front office, down the sidewalk that led to a row of small buildings.

“This first building is storage. The next one is the short-term stays, usually people who donate frequently to keep us running, staying for a night or two to see where their money goes. This next building is for long-term stays. That’s you two. It’s split into a duplex, so you’ll have basically a studio apartment in there. Kitchen, bathroom, living area with a sectioned off area as the bedroom. You each will have a key, but keep in mind that the director also has a key for emergencies. The janitorial staff only goes if requested, so let me know if you feel it needs a sprucing up or you need new sheets or anything. Fridge is stocked and gets restocked every two weeks.” She paused as they made it to the steps to the building. “Oh! We don’t technically have a curfew for the guests. You’re adults and we trust you on your journey here. But we do ask that you try to be back no later than 11, as we often shut off many of the trail lights by midnight to ensure the animals have the closest replica of the wild as possible.”

Steve and Eddie nodded, eyes wide at all the information being thrown at them so quickly.

“Your room has a phone of course. You’re free to use as often as you’d like. Pressing 1 gets you in touch with the front office, 2 is for security, 3 is for the director’s office. I recommend calling the front office unless it’s an emergency so we can get in touch with the right people for you. After your tour, you’ll have free reign over the entire sanctuary except for anywhere marked employees and volunteers only. That’s for your safety, of course. We encourage you to be a part of some of the educational tours and seminars that we offer to the general public as well as enjoy time on your own with the wolves. Volunteers are here every day from 9 to 5, and the employees who help care for the wolves stay until 11. We have security here 24/7, but the director usually has a couple people on staff remain after regular hours in case of an animal emergency.”

This felt a little overwhelming, but he could already tell Steve was more relaxed here than he’d been anywhere else since he met him.

“I work when they need me, but my home number is by the phone in there for you just in case you need a chat. I retired a couple years ago so I spend a lot of my time at home with my dog. You’re never a bother, okay?”

They both nodded.

She hugged them both, handed them their keys, and started to walk away.

“Your tour will be in about an hour. James is running it today. You’ll love him!”

She was gone before they could even respond, so they looked back to each other and shrugged before heading inside.

The main door was unlocked, but the door inside marked with a “2” was locked. Steve unlocked it and pushed the door open.

The apartment was nice, but small, smaller than either of them had expected.

“Guess we’ll be getting pretty close for the next month, huh?” Steve joked.

Eddie’s heart was in his throat.

He could see the “bedroom” from where he stood. It was one queen sized bed. One.

“Um. Yep. Guess so. I can take the couch,” Eddie rushed out.

Steve clearly hadn’t seen the sleeping arrangement yet or he would have probably offered. He’s a self-sacrificing idiot, so Eddie had to rush to offer before he could.

“What? Why?”

Eddie gestured towards the bed.

“There’s plenty of room for both of us, dude. A month on the couch isn’t exactly gonna help with the nightmares.”

“It looks pretty cozy.”

Steve just stared at him, brows raised like Eddie was an idiot.

He was an idiot, but he didn’t need Steve thinking it.

“Eddie. Seriously. We can share a bed.”

Steve wouldn’t let him win, it’s just not who Steve was.

“Okay, okay! Let’s just unpack so we can go see some wolves or whatever.”

They unpacked in silence, Steve taking the spot closest to the door without Eddie having a choice.

Self-sacrificing idiot.

—--------------

James knocked on their door at exactly 4:00, like he’d been standing there waiting for the clock to change over from 3:59.

“Hello! I’m James. You’re Steve and Eddie?”

They all shook hands and James started explaining things quickly.

James was only a bit older than them, wearing a volunteer shirt that had seen better days, and had the energy of Dustin.

“So! I’m gonna show you the lay of the land, you can ask me questions, I can try to answer them, and then I can drop you off back here so you can eat. The first night can be a bit of an adjustment, so feel free to give me a call if you have trouble. My number is under Fran’s,” James spoke rapid-fire, but not so fast they couldn’t keep up. They were used to that, anyway.

“So to start, everything you guys really need is along this main trail.” He pointed the way they came earlier and then the other direction. “That way leads to our nutrition area for the wolves, which you are welcome to visit anytime during the day to help or feed some of the rehabilitated wolves in the building nextdoor which is the hospital. The hospital is only open to the guests staying here and employees from 12-5, just because much of the mornings are spent performing surgeries or checkups. You’re encouraged to spend time with any of the wolves there in recovery as it helps their spirits much like a person. But if you take the left at the fork in this trail, you’ll be led to other trails. The first one is the wolf enclosures, which I’m taking you to now.” He kept walking as he spoke, moving his hands constantly, big smile keeping Eddie and Steve enthralled.

“We have one specifically for the ones we’ve rescued who are still healing from injuries, and that one is off limits to everyone between dusk and dawn. Many of these wolves are relearning how to be wild and part of that is using the night to hunt. Being in their cage during those times could be dangerous. They wouldn’t necessarily eat you,” he paused to laugh. “But they may take a bite. Now! The second enclosure is where we keep Herald. You can laugh at his name.” Eddie let out a small laugh.

“Herald had a rough upbringing. He was rescued about six months ago from a traveling circus that had abused him for at least a few years. We think he’s about 5 years old, but can’t be 100% certain. He’s hesitant around all people, even the director. He can be very unpredictable, so only the director, vet, and head nutritionist are allowed in there. You’re welcome to visit from the outside anytime you’d like though! He’s shy, but it can’t hurt having people talk to him.”

James was walking pretty quickly, and if Steve wasn’t so in shape, he’d be struggling. He looked over at Eddie. Eddie was struggling a little, but didn’t want to stop or slow down.

“And the last enclosure is for the rest of the wolves. These are ones that may be reintroduced to the wild soon or who may have been rescued without injuries, but just aren’t ready to go yet. This enclosure has a few areas for public access. The first being the feeding area, the second being the petting area. The petting area is only able to be accessed when employees or volunteers are present. The third area is only for guests staying long term such as yourselves.”

James walked them through a gate off to the side of the enclosure.

“This area is my favorite in the whole sanctuary. It’s their den area. It’s not recommended to come alone, and you should always go to the petting area to meet them first, but this area is nice for anyone who wants to feel like a part of the pack.”

“We can go in there?”

“Again, it’s definitely recommended to meet the wolves in the petting area first, maybe feed them a few times to show them you’re a friend, but yes.”

“Huh.”

Eddie watched Steve’s reaction.

This was much more involved than they expected to be.

“So that’s the enclosures! The next part of this trail leads to a walking and biking trail that is a great way to see some nature without having to leave the area. It’s snake season, though, so make sure you know your snake safety beforehand and bring the provided whistle with you in case of an emergency. Volunteers and employees are always within hearing distance during normal hours and can usually respond within 3-4 minutes.”

“Could we go back to Herald?”

Eddie’s head snapped to Steve, who was looking at James with a kind smile.

“Oh. Well, sure. The only other thing I needed to show you was the trail leading to the lake, but we can go back after.”

So James backtracked, Steve and Eddie close on his heels.

They got to the enclosure with Herald, but didn’t see him.

“He likes to hide. Especially if it isn’t close to meal time, he doesn’t usually come close to the fence. His den is hidden away.”

Steve kept walking up to the fence as James spoke, Eddie watching and trying to figure out what was going on.

“Herald? You there?” Steve called gently into the fence. Wolves had excellent hearing, and he’d probably already heard them approach. “You can come say hi if you want to.”

Eddie stood next to Steve, looking out at the area in the enclosure. There was a good mix of forest and empty area, with plenty of things that were probably used as toys scattered around. He watched for any sign of movement, listened for any trotting over.

Nothing.

Steve looked incredibly disappointed, but James walked closer and gave them both a smile.

“Like I said, Herald isn’t very social and it’s nothing personal. He doesn’t even seem to like the director and all the wolves love her.”

But Eddie knew Steve. He knew that he wasn’t gonna let that shit go.

“Alright! Shall we head to the trail by the lake?”

Eddie watched as Steve sighed, but nodded.

—--------------

Steve cooked them dinner that evening, said it helped him relax and that he would feel more at home if he got into a routine.

Eddie wouldn’t complain; He loved Steve’s cooking.

He made a basic spaghetti dish, even toasted some bread and sprinkled some garlic powder on it to make garlic bread.

They sat at the small table by the front door and ate in silence.

“It’s really quiet here.”

Eddie looked up to see Steve staring down at his plate, biting his lip nervously.

“It’s kind of nice though. Peaceful.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie knew what he was worried about.

He was worried the silence would make him have more nightmares instead of less, that he’d be left with nothing to help him if this failed.

“Hey,” Eddie reached over and patted Steve’s hand that rested on the table. “I’m here, alright? You won’t be alone.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, only slightly relaxing back into his seat.

—--------------

The next day was relaxed.

They walked along the main trail after breakfast, happy to see Fran again and meet some new people.

They stopped at Herald’s enclosure, but still didn’t see or hear him.

Steve was disappointed, but it was hidden away when they were able to feed and pet some of the other wolves before lunch.

The wolves were all beautiful, clearly well taken care of, and even the ones still in recovery were cleaned, well-fed, and cared for by the team.

Eddie quickly had a favorite: Mabel. She was an “old woman” as the employee at the feeding area said. She was 12 years old, had been brought in from the side of the road after being hit. She had had a broken leg and many broken ribs, along with cuts that needed stitches. Not the worst they’d seen, but due to her being nearly 11 at the time, they didn’t expect her to pull through. She did though, and had quickly become known as the leader of the group. All the wolves respected her, it was clear even to Eddie and Steve. She was the first to the feeding area, the first to the petting area, and would often stand guard over the others as they went into the shared spaces.

She was light brown with gray speckled throughout, her scars visible, but mostly covered with hair.

Steve loved Mabel, too, but he still had his heart set on Herald.

Eddie wasn’t stupid. He knew why Steve was so fixated on him.

Someone who was abused and hidden away and expected to perform every day for crowds of people? Yeah, Steve and Herald had quite a bit in common.

He just didn’t want him to get his hopes up for nothing.

After lunch, they decided to walk over to the nutrition center, maybe learn something new.

It was educational, and fun, and Eddie said multiple times how much he wished actual school had been like this.

The nutritionists let them help set up all the wolves’ dinners, showing them portion sizes for each of the wolves, telling them what the wolves’ favorites were. How they celebrated birthdays for them.

It was fun. Steve even cracked some smiles throughout.

—--------------

That night was rough.

Steve had fallen asleep quickly, much to Eddie’s delight, but it didn’t last long.

Eddie was woken up not long after he fell asleep by whimpering. He glanced at the alarm clock by the bed. 10:38. Barely an hour.

He knew from experience that waking Steve up would just make things worse for him, so he gently set his hand on Steve’s side, the best support he could give right now.

It physically pained Eddie to watch Steve’s face tighten in fear and sadness, whatever his nightmare was this time painting a horrifying picture he couldn’t escape.

Steve had mentioned once that his worst nightmares weren’t even about reliving anything that happened. They weren’t anyone dying, though he had those too. They weren’t even him dying.

They were everyone turning on him, finally seeing he wasn’t worth their time or effort, leaving him alone in that big empty house just like his parents did. He said the worst part was when Robin and Eddie left in the nightmare. When they looked at him with disgust and said he wasn’t good enough for the kids, and he damn sure wasn’t good enough for them.

No matter how many times they told him that would never be true, he still had them.

Ten minutes went by, agonizingly slowly, tears falling down Steve’s face. Eddie was whispering words of comfort, hoping that somehow Steve could hear him, but knowing he probably couldn’t.

But finally, Steve’s eyes opened, the whimpering stopped, and he was no longer hearing and seeing what hurt him the most.

He sat up and wiped his eyes, but the tears kept coming and his breathing was still labored.

Eddie sat up with him, hand on his arm, thumb rubbing back and forth to keep him present.

“I think I need to walk it off,” Steve said, voice wet with tears still to come.

“Okay. Do you want me to come with you?”

Steve shook his head.

“No, go back to sleep. I’ll only be out for a few minutes.”

And as much as Eddie knew that was a lie, and knew he should probably go with Steve, he had to trust him.

He’d be safe. He had to be.

—--------------

Steve walked aimlessly up and down the main trail for 10 minutes, trying to breathe in the fresh air, focus on his surroundings.

It wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped, but it was better than staying in bed and letting Eddie see him like this.

Eddie was too kind, always. He was bright, like the sun and the stars and the moon on a clear night. He was everything. And if Steve let himself be too vulnerable, too much, Eddie would take that light.

He lost track of where he was going, his breaths coming in sharper pants now as he let more tears fall.

A noise made him freeze.

Leaves rustling.

He looked up to see Herald’s enclosure in front of him. And…

Herald.

Herald was huge, much bigger than any of the other wolves they’d seen so far. He was beautiful. Scars along his legs showing that he had been abused awfully before coming here, but the rest of him glowed with health. He was standing about eight feet from the fence, trying to hide some of his body still behind the bushes along the forest line.

Steve slowly made his way to the fence, his hands up to show he wasn’t going to cause any harm.

Herald didn’t come closer, but he didn’t back or run away either.

Steve counted that as a win.

He instantly slumped to the ground at the fence, his hands and head resting against the chain links like they were the only thing keeping him upright. Maybe they were.

Steve closed his eyes.

He was so focused on staying calm, he couldn’t hear Herald approach. But he suddenly felt a cold, wet nose against his head.

He didn’t panic, he didn’t want to scare Herald, but he realized suddenly that his fingers were very much easily accessed by sharp teeth.

He let Herald sniff him, then slowly looked up.

Herald was tilting his head at him, almost as if he was asking if he was okay.

That made Steve sob.

Herald jumped slightly, but then moved so he was completely against the fence, laying down so his warm body could be against Steve’s.

Steve slowly let his hands fall, reaching through the fence slowly to let them rest in Herald’s fur.

He felt the wolf sigh, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I get it. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone care, huh? You’re so soft,” Steve whispered, knowing Herald was still not completely relaxed around him.

“You tired?”

Steve felt a little silly for asking a wolf a question, but he felt even sillier when he realized Herald had just moved his head up and down. It was probably a coincidence, but the timing was crazy.

“Me too. We should get some sleep.”

Herald huffed and rolled his head back against the fence.

“Want me to stay?”

Herald huffed again.

“Okay.”

So Steve stayed.

He sat down on the ground, back against the fence, and listened to the crickets and the steady breaths of Herald.

He was woken up by Eddie shaking him and a growl coming from behind him.

“Steve! Jesus, I thought you’d got lost or died or something.”

“How long have I been out here?”

“It’s nearly two in the morning!”

Herald was growling behind him, protectively pacing behind Steve like he would find a way to get through the fence if Eddie tried to hurt him.

“Hey, Herald, it’s okay. This is Eddie. He’s here with me. He’s my friend,” Steve said calmly, holding his hand through the fence so Herald could sniff him and see he was okay.

“Steve! Get your hand out of there. He isn’t friendly, remember?”

“Oh, please. He just slept by me for hours and let me hold his fur like he was a stuffed animal. He’s plenty friendly.”

Eddie just stared, jaw slack, as he realized Steve was right.

Herald was licking Steve’s hand, leaving his scent on him like he was trying to provide as much protection as possible.

“You made friends with the only wolf here who hates people. Unbelievable.”

“Hey, be nice. He just needs some love is all.”

Eddie nodded. Yeah, him and another person with a name that started with S and rhymed with sleeve.

Eddie’s heart had been racing for the last 15 minutes since he woke up and realized Steve wasn’t in bed next to him or anywhere in the apartment.

He finally took a deep breath, balling his shaking hands into fists and stuffing them into the pocket of his hoodie.

“We should head back inside, Stevie.”

Steve seemed to notice Eddie wasn’t doing so great.

“I’m alright, Eds. Hey, look at me.” Eddie looked at Steve’s face, the way he seemed more relaxed than when he first left after his nightmare. “I’m okay. I must have fallen asleep.”

Eddie took a deep breath, resting his head against Steve’s shoulder as he let it out.

“I thought you were gone.”

“Nah, you can’t get rid of me now.”

“No?”

“Nope. Herald and I are just good friends, but you’re still-” Steve cut himself off, but Eddie wasn’t going to let that pass.

“What?”

“Nothing. Not important.”

“Yeah it is. Tell me.”

Steve seemed nervous, and Herald must have sensed it because he let out a low growl.

“It’s just that you mean a lot to me. Kind of everything, actually.”

Eddie couldn’t breathe.

What did that even mean?

Steve’s hand was suddenly in his hair, playing with the ends the way Eddie did when he was nervous.

“You’re just. I mean, how could you not mean the world to me? You dropped everything to come here with me because you knew I wouldn’t do it alone, Eds. You bring me candy at work even though I literally have access to all the candy I want at the counter. You let me find reasons not to watch the scary movies on movie nights when Dustin picks because you know I can’t handle them. You swim in the pool with me alone so no one knows how much I still hate it. I…you’re just…”

Eddie didn’t let him stutter any more, knowing what he was saying without actually saying it.

He knew what Steve was afraid of, and he wasn’t going to let him be scared anymore.

“Steve. I love you. That’s why I do all that. I love you. I’m in love with you. You deserve more than what I can give, but I can keep giving you all of the love I have, and hopefully that will be enough.”

Steve’s lips were on his before he finished speaking, teeth clacking together at the force of it.

Herald huffed, but they didn’t stop. Eddie didn’t know how he was supposed to now that he had Steve’s lips on his.

He never wanted them gone.

His hands reached up to Steve’s neck, cradling his jaw between them as if he was holding something precious. He was.

“I love you so much,” Steve said against his lips, melting against Eddie.

“I love you, Stevie,” Eddie said back. He planted another soft kiss to his lips before resting their foreheads together. “Let’s go back to bed, okay? We can come see Herald after breakfast.”

Steve nodded and turned to Herald.

“I’ll be back. Don’t hide from me, okay?”

He reached in to give Herald’s head a scratch, and Eddie shook his head in disbelief.

It took less than 48 hours for Steve to have the one wolf in this sanctuary who didn’t like people completely wrapped around his finger.

But Eddie could relate.

Steve’s charm was damn near impossible to resist and now he didn’t have to try.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #requests #ficlet #but more like a whole one shot #this is over 5000 words oops #and could have been more but i had to tie that shit up with a bow #hurt/comfort

488 notes · View notes