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swaqcenix · 1 year

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༻One Last Kiss | N. Romanoff༺

Natasha Romanoff x reader

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Warnings: Literally none at all! Just fluff and cuteness all around in this one.

Summary: With Natasha going away on a mission for a few days, you both felt the pain of distance. The longing touches and drifting moments. A night of facetime leads to "nothing" meaning everything even with the begging of kisses.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x agent!reader

Word count: 3.8K

AN: Fun fact, I was never planning this, this is bits of a re-enact of mine and my girlfriend's facetime last night with adjustments so this is pretty much based on true events! :)

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"Promise me you'll be safe?" Your voice was muffled and restrained in her shoulder.

It always was when she had to go away on missions for longer periods of time. In all honesty, you feared even when you were going with her. It was in your nature especially now you got something you never thought you'd get.

Ever since Natasha Romanoff entered your life, your doubts, scars and fears were being healed. You were certain she was your last ever at anything. Maybe she wasn't your first, but she promised to be your last as you hers.

She pulled away, eyes connecting with your own and the smell of pinewood and lavender filled your nose and senses drifting over to you and god. You could get lost in that smell, you would get lost in it all day everyday.

Natasha lifted her left hand up as it came to stroke along your cheek in a silent whisper. You could get lost in her emerald eyes as she could with your own. She smirked at you when you'd been staring too long and nether of you knew how to deal with emotions verbally yet.

"What?" She asked her lips tilted upwards into a soft grin only meant for your eyes.

"Nothing," you whispered back in a soft joke that now lingered between you.

Nothing but everything. That was what you saw and she saw in you. People saw nothing but what they wanted to see. Yet, you both saw everything.

She laughed shaking her head and placed a soft kiss gently on your forehead before resting hers against your own in a intimate and emotional manner. You two often lived in your own world when possible. With you being an agent and herself being an avenger, soft moments like this were rare to come by. Therefore when you did in fact get them, you made the most of what you could.

"Come on Romanoff you and your love bird can see each other when you get back," Tony stark bit at the pair of you like a scolding father.

You pulled apart fast, nether being too content on showing affection in public. It was hard enough to slowly build on it in private, the lost desperation of touches and the growing used to feeling the other's presence. It was a work in progress but you had so much time even if it was precious.

You snorted when you watched the older woman stick her fingers up at Stark causing Steve to stroll past you both mumbling something about language. God damn that old man and his incessant pestering about not swearing. Still it made it funny to mock and tease him whenever you got the chance.

"You too Agent Y/L/N," Fury's voice caused you to tense up slightly still not used to the sternness of his voice.

Natasha took a step back but not before you caught her own eyes and she smiled at you softly. A look crossed over her, one you couldn't place but looked like adoration and admiration.

Her hand clasped in yours in an unspoken gesture, one that didn't need verbalising. She was your hand to hold when the cold wind whips about causing your skin to prickle and chill stinging your core. Yet when her hand lay calmly in your own, when it clasped in yours it didn't sting so much. Her past hurt less and your mind rested more.

"What?" Your said in barely a whisper noticing a look on her face but not wanting to destroy the moment.

She went to say something, but her lips clasped together and she pursued them. Her thoughts danced around her mind as Natasha felt the question pull on her heartstrings. Not yet, she knew not yet.

"Nothing," she half-laughed and her laugh was like a song. Her laughter was the soundtrack of your own soul and makes you dance and drift within.

You had a love hate relationship with that word, despite you being the one to essentially start it. Whenever one of you stared too long, blushed or got flustered, the word what would be asked. Followed by the comical word of 'nothing,' but in reality the word nothing was everything of a something.

With one last squeeze of your hand, Nat backed away smiling at you warmly before turning on her heels and walking at a brisk pace towards the quinjet. You only let out a snort when you saw her slap Stark on the back of the head as you guessed he made yet another joke about the two 'love birds.'

You felt a sense of longing and sadness overcome you as you watched the jet fly away. You almost scoffed at yourself to know what Natasha's presence had simply done to you. Just a few mere moments around the woman would bring you to your knees. Shaking your head at yourself, you found yourself pondering over thoughts and getting lost inside your mind.

A hand resting on your shoulder caused you to jump and your mind came back to reality instantly. Tilting your head to the side you noticed Maria and Fury stood next to you staring up at the same quinjet as it disappeared from view.

You watched them apprehensively as their gazes drifted towards you and you felt your hands clam up and sweat with fear and pain. You expected to be scrutinised or judged significantly for being emotional over someone who scarcely showed emotion around others, but instead Fury cracked what you believed to be a smile.

"She knew what she'd found when she found you. Agent Romanoff did good and I have no doubt you'll do good by her just as she will for you," he stated his voice strong and the hint of authority left slightly.

With that, he turned around heading towards the building that was now scurrying around with other agents. You stood in confusion and a little warmth spread through your body at the thought of him approving.

"Wow, that was something," Hill stated next to you causing you to roll your eyes.

Her relationship with you was always friendly banter, something Nick had come to often have a disdain towards, even though the pair of you knew he was secretly pleased with it.

"What do you mean Hill," you clipped back smirking at her.

"You're practically putty in Romanoff's hands. Besides Nick's approval huh? Now you've really made it," she joked but there was a sense of pride in her voice that made you smile even more.

"Was that his honest attempt at a smile," you laughed and the look on Maria's face said it all.

"Well.."

The pair of you stared at each other for a mere few moments, before doubling over into laughter. Your stomach hurt at the laughter spilling from your mouth and Maria clearly was the same. The tears leaking from her eyes from doubling over so much only spurred you further.

The stern cough coming from behind the both of you caused your laughter to die down. You looked at each other trying to bite back smirks as you turned to face an unimpressed looking Fury stood before you.

"When you two have finished acting like children on a playground, we do have things to do Agents," he gritted out and a laugh escaped your lips causing you to clasp a hand over your mouth.

The pointed look he gave you, spoke a thousand words and you knew you needed to pull yourself together if you wanted to keep your job. Maria gave you a quick glance as you headed into the building whispering towards you.

"Yeah, that's the best you're going to get," causing you to bite back a snort.

It might be a long few days without your lover besides you, but you still had a few reasons to keep your day joyful.

— That same night —

Shutting the door slowly, you slumped against it, your shoulders hunched over in exhaustion. Your body felt weak and tired and the cold air of your apartment hit you in the face.

You wanted to work yourself harder today, perhaps in distraction of Natasha being away for a while, or perhaps simply to challenge yourself. Ether or, you definitely regretted it.

Maria and Fury tried to get you to relax a little but you being you with your stubborn ass refused and just powered through. As you slipped your shoes off, you winced as your feet finally touched the cold wooden floor relaxing for what felt like the first time in days.

You could imagine Natasha's disapproving look glaring you down, being annoyed that you overworked yourself. In your defence it wasn't like she didn't do the same thing. You padded across the room, placing your bags down before removing the gun strapped to your waist and placing it on the kitchen counter.

Your mind often flittered over to your girlfriend, whether she was staying safe. Or at least in her word's trying to do so. You yawned flexing your fingers on the counter before pouring yourself a cup of chamomile tea. It was what Natasha made you to calm your nerves and with her being away on a mission you felt the need to feel closer to her in any way imaginable.

The wave of sadness hit you once more and you scoffed at yourself and who you'd become. You were supposed to be a SHIELD Agent, a good one at that. While you might have the energy of a golden retriever, you were still hardcore on the outside just as Natasha was. It appeared you'd both melted away the exterior's until there was no amor and no mask. Just you both and you both alone.

Grabbing your steaming mug of tea, you headed towards the couch clumsy and all but delicately flopping down on it, turning on a film. Your eyes glanced at the screen as you flicked through netflix smirking when you saw Moonraker. It was one of her favourite films to the extent she knew every single god damn line.

You flicked it on and cringed inwardly. The older woman had played it so many times when you were with her, you'd almost grown sick of it. Yet you were sat on the couch right now in what was your shared apartment, that felt rather lonely right now. You settled down watching the scene where Hugo Drax and Bond were discussing the infamous crush, but all you could think of was Natasha repeating the lines next to you.

You tilted your head to the left noticing her hoodie folded up neatly on the arm of the couch causing your face to scrunch in surprise. You didn't remember placing that there?

Shuffling further across and placing your knees underneath you unfolded it to see a cutely written note there, your heart melting at the sight. You unwrapped it and read it trying not to blush, despite being alone.

Dear Y/N,

I know you'll be worrying and stressing. Just know on the quinjet when I get interrogated about you, wondering what draws me to you.

I'd say I like your eyes, lips, the furrow of your brow when you concentrate just to finish with just about every part of you. They'll smile as I do when I think of you and see you.

I'll be home soon Malyshka. I assure you, but for now take my hoodie as a part of me. I can't share all my past and secrets at once. But I can share myself.

Stay warm detka. As warm as you keep me.

-Natasha

You hadn't realised your throat had restricted with emotions and your eyes had gotten glassy until you'd gotten to the last line. 'As warm as you keep me.' She always knew just what to say.

As you popped the note the coffee table, you slipped the hoodie on smiling as you were hit with her scent. Natasha clearly knew how to comfort you even without her being there for you directly.

Your eye's focused back on the screen but you couldn't focus on the film anymore. The scent of your girlfriend was lulling you into a peaceful slumber a distant but warming hug around you felt so comforting.

— Later on into the night —

A noise echoing through the room disrupted your sleep, causing you to stir slowly. At first you thought you had dreamt it, but the noise continued even as you woke.

Groaning at whoever had interrupted your nap, you snatched your phone off the table ready to snap at whoever interrupted your lovely dream and evening. That was until your eyes widened in surprise as you saw Natasha's name come on your phone face-timing you.

Natasha never faced timed you unless it was a deadly emergency or a pre planned call. You felt a wave of anxiety rise in your system as your mind began spiralling and overthinking instantly. What if she got injured? What if...

Deciding to push away the intrusive and dramatic thoughts to the side, your hand pressed the accept button, as you propped yourself up more to awaken further.

Natasha's face popped on the screen and relief flooded your system instantly. She was sat up in bed, of what you assumed to a hotel her currently dyed blonde hair tucked behind her ears. Her reading glasses that only you knew of were perched on her face and she looked utterly.. mesmerising.

"Natasha?! Are you okay, are you injured?!" You began to babble on still an inkling of worry running through your veins.

However, the older woman only softly broke into a smile as she listened to ramble on. She let out a small laugh, cutting you off before you began to panic further.

"Y/N/N, I promise I'm okay in one piece. I just wanted to hear you, that's all," she stated nibbling on her bottom lip in what you could only put down as a nervous state.

"Oh thank god, I got your note by the way," you face flushed as her own mouth curved into a shit eating grin.

"So I can see, missed me that much you couldn't wait to get the hoodie on huh, detka?"

She teased you relentlessly, even when on a face-time call and sometimes you wanted to just kiss that grin right off her smug face. Still, you adored that part of her. You wish you could verbalise that you loved or adored her, you just. didn't know how..

"So, Steve got really annoyed at Tony when he decided to enter a whole ass competition with the guy we were supposed to be getting intel from," she continued on with her story as you just listened intently.

You hummed for her to continue just getting lost in the way her cheeks flushed at the thought of memories and how her eyes narrowed when she spoke and got lost in her own mind.

"I'm always picking up after them as you know so I had to handle them I did get.. slightly bruised but, I'm okay," she quickly rushed as you sat up further at hearing her of her bruise.

"Natalia," you whined.

It was a name you only called her when a serious moment arose, whether you were having a serious conversation and needed her to understand you, or when she didn't see herself the way you did. You used it once by accident after she told you of it and the look on her face.. She cried and you worried you'd crossed the line.

In reality it had been so long since she'd heard that name, she begged you to repeat it over and over again. So you did. You repeated the name Natalia as you kissed every inch of her until you fell asleep as one.

"I assure you babe, I'm not hurt. It just you know.."

"Hurts like a bitch," you finished for her causing you both to giggle in spurts of laughter.

As she continued her story you half-zoned out too busy focusing on the details of her face. Her eyes were the hue of the spring growth, of the dancing fields of grass, bright and soft all at once. There were flecks of strength and pain that lingered but whenever she looked at you, the pain and anguish dissipated into adoration and hope.

Her hands danced around the air that the atoms parted for her, as she focused and relaxed herself entirely while talking to you. The freckles on her face dotted around her, allowing you to tilt you head in complete mesmerisation as you saw her entirely.

"What?" She whispered and you flushed realising you'd been caught.

You bit your lip, wondering if you could ever say how you saw her. You didn't see what she saw. A girl without hope and without light. You saw a strong, admirable woman who carried the weight of the world and still looked and always would look utterly flawless.

"Nothing," you whispered back.

She let out a heavy sigh, nonverbally scolding you for not saying. Nothing meant everything between the two of you, while you may dance and dodge around the word, you both knew what it meant deep down.

"Very well, how about some Karaoke?"

The two of you spent the remaining hour giggling well into the night like two high school girls in love, but too stupid and scared to verbalise it aloud. As you sang along to a spanish song, that then switched into a Welsh song you'd learnt as a kid you danced around the room.

She sat and watched only smiling wide and her eyes glowed even in the darkest of rooms. They glowed for you as that nothing bloomed into something.

"I want to kiss you," she randomly blurted out causing you to almost give yourself whiplash at the comment.

"What?" You said taken aback by surprise at how she randomly said it.

However, she buried her face in her hands mumbling an apology. You smirked at how she got just as flustered as you, the big bad Natasha Romanoff a flustering and blushing mess.

"You can if you want, but I don't know how to do that through a call," you looked at the screen watching her peak her eyes through her hands.

"Blow me a kiss," she mumbled under her breath too quietly for you to catch.

"I didn't catch that Nat?"

"Blow me a kiss then," she repeated the confidence running back through her veins.

It was now your turn to be a flustered mess as you stared up at the ceiling. Your face turned a beetroot red as you avoided eye contact with the screen even as Natasha continued to plead.

It was only cracking on eye open, you tilted your head towards the camera of your phone and you scrunched your nose in confusion. Natasha was staring at you in awe, if that could be even the way to describe it. Her lips were turned up in a genuine and gentle smile as she watched you in a soft caring manner.

"What?" You asked voice laced with curiosity.

Her soft smile faltered for a second, before being replaced by a shit eating grin. She perched herself further forward before responding back causing you to scoff at the irony.

"Nothing," she replied back.

You simply rolled your eyes and you drifted back into a soft conversation as you asked her to read to you. She was hesitant at first, not too sure why you'd want her to read to you at all.

"Your voice," you stated as though it was purely obvious.

"My voice?" She questioned confused.

"It soothes me sweetheart," the nickname slipped from your lips. If she caught it though she didn't let it known.

She settled on reading Little women and you admired her once more even as the minutes passed you by. Your hearts were too ruthless to break, especially hers. Her heart was gold, even if Natasha didn't know it.

You didn't care if the world disapproved, if the world frowned upon you falling for a "deadly" Assassin, as your world was only her. If you were frowned upon and deemed wrong it felt like heaven with her, it was in fact heaven.

"What?" She said with more determination this time, as she shut the book catching you staring shamelessly once more.

You contemplated on saying nothing once more. Nothing meant everything and something all at once. So many truths hidden behind them. She was your moonlight as you her sunlight. Her light in the dark, her poet to a solider.

"You're beautiful," you whispered half a truth. She wasn't just beautiful. She was a goddess.

She flushed heavily though all the same and as the night drew to a close and tiredness succumb to you both, she glanced at you with her own unspoken nothing as everything.

"What Natalia," you rubbed your eyes in a sleepy manner.

"I adore you Y/N," she said with confidence and clarity.

If the world could stop once and once alone, it had done just that. The nothing's and the somethings had became everything's and understanding's. The unspoken became spoken and the lie's became truth's. She became yours even more that night as you became even more hers.

"I adore you too Natasha Romanoff," you said with just as much honesty.

"Goodnight Detka," she yawned and you chose the final seconds of a call to do it.

As the call came to the end your hand touched your lips as you blew a kiss to your own drift of wind, to your own russian spy. To your own protector of a widow. Your own Natalia, your moonlight.

As your eyes closed softly your phone pinged one more time as you glanced a soft grin appeared on your face.

My Widow

'I got my kiss! 😘'

Sometimes the nothings meant everything, just as your last kiss of the night meant anything but just a last kiss. It was the start of the everything. The start of the lasts with your widow.

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#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #marvel fic #natasha fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #natasha romanoff fluff #scarlett johansson

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glorified-red · 1 year

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Locks & Cake Pops (Damian Wayne x Reader x Jon Kent)

summary: Gotham was a scary place when the sun went down. One terrifying encounter with a stranger left you completely worn thin. Thankfully, your boys were more than prepared to come find you.

word count: 4,800~

warnings: panic attack, paranoia, vague & very short description of encountering a scary stranger (none explicit to what happened, by whom, or by any gender. Only specification is that it's a conversation and Reader is hesitant around touch), paranoia to violence or potential violence, constant paranoia of not being safe

Y'all called me a main character and I think the people writing my story took that as a CHALLENGE. The amount of plot I went through today??? I swear, fics really do write themselves, huh?

Shout out to @quillsareswords for planting the Poly Fic seed in my head with her fics until I couldn't NOT write one. And shout out to @unmotivatedwrit3r for being my Jon today and @uni-magi-nation for being my Damian because guess what lads, this fic is based on a true story!! As are most of my fics anyway, so please, enjoy the events that happened less than 12 hours ago ;P

You could pinpoint the exact moment your day had derailed.

It wasn’t until the sun had just barely started to slip beneath the horizon. Nearly ten hours of joy all crashed in one single moment. It was one decision. A single foot placement was the difference between coming home safe and the disaster that befell you currently.

One foot placement was all it took and your entire world crumbled from above you.

You almost wondered if your foot pivoted slightly to the east, if you took the path to your right instead of your left, would you still be in this position? Would you be here, clinging to your next breath as if it was your last?

But alas, you traveled west to your car. The path you took was slightly dimmer than the other in the middle of dusk. Less people, less crowds . . . less witnesses.

That one decision landed you in an inescapable exchange of words. Whether you made it home was a decision you no longer had control of, it was now placed in the hands of a stranger—a person who thrived on the rush of feeling a life beat in the palm of their hands.

Your feet were placed on a track alongside them, desperately trying to find a way out. But each pivot was either too late or too suspicious, all you could do was play along like some kind of puppet. Eventually the rush simmered and the paths diverged, they split off into two distinct directions, and you were free.

You didn’t bother to care when your feet pounded against the ground one after another. They did their job, they took you to where your brain had decided you needed to go despite you not truly being a part of that conversation. You let your instincts take over, the adrenaline high of blazing through empty sidewalks and burning passed streetlamps flickering on for the first time that night.

Your breath faded into the air with each step, a resounding huff of forced exhales as your legs ached from the pace. Before you knew it, your world tilted on its axis as your brain and body fully disconnected. Tunnel vision took over your view, the only thing in sight was the faraway gleam of steel and vinyl.

You slammed the car door behind you, fully encasing you in a carbon cage. It felt like a cage in all senses of the word. You were suffocated inside the doors of your own safety, hating how your only semblance of security was in a man-made product that could fail within a moment—that could be broken into with just the thought of doing so.

You heard the satisfying click of the doors locking, never realizing your fingers jumped to the button the second they could. That sound meant safety, that sound meant you would be okay.

Electrons slipped past connections and you couldn't properly process anything aside from the steering wheel in front of you and the sharp polyester strap cutting across your chest. Your next exhale was steady and long, a pitiful attempt at self-soothing. Even with the length of the breath, the shakiness behind it was so easy to hear in the silence of the cage.

You gripped the steering wheel with both hands, twisting your grip along the rim until you could feel the bite in your palms. You brought yourself back one cell at a time. It started with the pads of your fingers tapping against the polyurethane, then your palms rubbing against the grooves and curves of the wheel, then your hands were gripping at your arms until feeling returned to them slowly. You thawed out your own body seconds at a time.

You breathed again.

Then the car had started and you drove away.

You could remember the exact moment you realized this was much deeper than mere disassociation. Your eyes were filled with red lights and your ears buzzed with the sound of passing cars. It started in your chest, a small hum of warning deep in the confines of your ribcage.

The death rattle had started inside you and only got louder the longer your hands stayed connected to the prison bars. The hum turned into a storm of pyrocumulonimbus as your foot pressed into the gas, each breath of oxygen only fueled the fire burning at the edges of your lungs.

You fought so hard against the impending doom of it all. You just wanted to go home. You wanted to come home and beeline straight for—not safety—comfort; you wanted to remind yourself that touch wasn’t something to be scared of; you wanted to remind yourself that you were safe—that everything was going to be okay.

But instead your breath quickened into a terrifying speed and you had no choice but to pull over into the nearest complex with well-lit parking spaces and bustling activity at its front doors. Your car clicked off and your fingers immediately reached for the lock icon at your side.

You pressed it once to hear the simultaneous click of four doors locking in tandem.

Leaning against the plush seat, you tried to breathe properly. Your hands gripped at the seatbelt across your chest, both hating and adoring the pressure it forced against your body.

You pressed it twice to remind yourself the doors were locked.

Gripping the strap, you didn’t mind the way the edges dug into your palms as you bent it in on itself. It was tight against you, just enough to keep you present. The hands of sharply woven polyester forced you to stay conscious in reality, they didn’t dare let you slip between the cracks and fall into dissociation.

You pressed it a third time, the same click resounding in your ears.

Suddenly you felt too suffocated. You could feel the bottom of the wheel on your knees and the lanyard of your keys against your thigh.

The clicks reversed as you tumbled out of the car.

Fresh air hit your entire body and the fire raging in your chest worsened tenfold. You were exposed—you were vulnerable. You slammed yourself back into the car. A blink and you were in the backseat this time.

The carved metal of a key dug into your fingers while you clutched it like a lifeline. Your hand reached for your phone before you could process anything else. Your other clicked the lock icon once more and the entire car fell into darkness.

⋘⋙

Damian didn’t remember falling asleep but when a human sized heater was laying across his chest, it never took long for his exhaustion to get tired of being ignored.

He was slightly annoyed, arguably moreso, when the heater in question jerked upright. Damian’s eyes snapped open. “Watch it,” he groaned, sleep still affecting the timbre in his voice. Hands dug uncomfortably into his stomach and he pushed them away.

“Sorry, sorry,” the kryptonian apologized from above him. “I just . . .” he trailed off.

That got his attention.

His eyes focused on the alert expression on his lover’s face. Jon shifted upright completely, still straddling Damian’s thighs. His eyes were distant, looking off into the window at the other side of the room.

“What’s wrong?” Damian asked, finding himself slightly propped up onto his elbows.

“Y/n,” Jon replied, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. The way he said your voice was just as distant as his gaze, almost like his voice was nothing but an exhale. He blinked, looking down and glaring so hard at Damian’s upper body that Damian almost took offense.

“Their heartbeat,” he said, confusion lacing his voice as he tried to focus on the thum of your beat, “it’s . . . different.”

“Different,” Damian echoed. He would’ve been annoyed at the vague answer if he wasn’t aware both him and Jon were currently barely awake and therefore, barely functioning (Damian more so than Jon, of course). “What do you mean different?”

Kryptonian powers were always so finicky. He always thought so, but meeting Jon? This man was evidence in itself that powers were annoying at best. Damian watched as Jon developed each new power slowly at the most inconvenient times, mind you. And now, years after being the Man Of Steel, Jon’s powers still went berserk.

Damian couldn’t even count on his fingers how many sensory overloads he’s guided Jon through—and he’d do it all over again if he had to.

Jon shook his head. “It’s just different.” He shrugged.

“You woke me up because it’s just different?” Damian deadpanned.

Jon glared down at him. “This isn’t exactly an exact science, you know.”

Damian sighed and slid back down until his upper back hit the mattress once more. “Is it going faster? Skipping a beat?” he prompted, trying his best to shake the grogginess from his body without letting paranoia fester in its place.

Heartbeats always worried Damian. He ended up assuming the worst. But with a Kryptonian tracing them so often, he realized that different didn’t necessarily mean bad. You could have raised your hand in class, forgot your keys, or missed a step down the stairs and your heart lurched. That was enough to perk Jon’s ears. You could have been stressed so your heart rate was elevated. Maybe even tired which made it drag.

Despite his own fears, Damian kept reminding himself that there's more of a chance that you were fine than not, especially when he was currently talking to a sleep deprived kryptonian who announced heartbeat changes all the time. The idea of getting away with any kind of anxiety while around that golden retriever was stupid and incredibly naive—Damian gave up after a year of Jon’s super-hearing kicking in.

“You’re anxious.”

“Shut up.”

“You should probably—”

“I said shut up.”

Jon spoke up: “It definitely jumped and it’s been slightly faster than normal ever since.” His head tilted slightly to the side to listen better—Damian couldn't help but picture a tiny puppy doing the same and its ear flopping over. “It’s getting steadily faster. I think . . . I think they’re driving?”

Damian’s eyes furrowed. He reached for his phone as Jon continued. “Definitely driving,” he settled on. “I can hear their car.”

“Maybe they almost got into an accident,” Damian mumbled in thought, setting a personal reminder in his brain to berate you for speeding later. His phone clicked on and his eyes saw his blurry home screen. He blinked the image into focus. When his eyes could properly trace over the smiles on you and Jon’s faces, he looked at the time.

It was earlier than he thought.

Jon’s hands fiddled with the hem of Damian’s sleep shirt, the compression material stretching slightly to accommodate the movement. “Maybe,” Jon gnawed at his bottom lip. “I didn’t hear anything like that though, just normal traffic.”

Damian hummed. “They were at the library today. I didn’t expect them to head home so soon.” His fingers opened your contact. “Did they text you that they were heading home?”

Jon leaned across the bed to reach for his phone on the nightstand. Damian resisted a snark at how uncomfortable the shift was with the unnecessary knee to the side.

Jon fiddled with his phone for a moment. “Nope, nothing.”

Damian opened his mouth to supply another sentence of rationale when two things happened simultaneously: In an instant, Jon’s phone slipped from his hands and ricocheted right off of his stomach. (“Ow!”) Then Damian’s ringtone sounded throughout the entire bedroom, bouncing off the walls and reverberating into their tired brains.

The fear written on Jon’s face was enough for Damian to pick up on the first ring.

“Y/n?” he asked. Jon’s fingers clutched at his shirt.

“Hey,” you responded. There was a crackle over the line but Damian couldn’t tell if it was your voice or the shitty internet.

“Are you okay?” Damian was blunt, cutting straight through any attempt at small talk. How could he not when Jon was currently mouthing “panic attack” at him and poking his ribcage.

You hesitated enough for Damian to shoo Jon off of him. Both boys tumbled out of the massive bed in varying degrees of grace.

“What are you doing right now?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re dodging the question,” Damian slid on a pair of pants and made his way down the stairs. “What’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing because I have a human sized Holter monitor that would beg to disagree.”

Jon tumbled behind, no doubt using some kind of kryptonian flare to gather all the necessary items to drive to you.

“Can you both meet me here, I—” you cut off, if Damian strained, he could hear your rampant breathing. “I need you.” You choked, “No—No capes.”

Damian breathed in slowly and exhaled through his mouth. The keys and wallets were already floating into his pockets as he opened the front door.

No capes.

It was a valid request. It was a request both Jon and Damian had come to appreciate overtime. No need for heroics, no need for perfection, no need for theatrics—you just needed your partners, as they were.

That was a level of normalcy that was so rare in this lifestyle. As much as it would be miles quicker with Jon’s flight or even his grapple gun, he respected the thought process behind the decision. You just wanted your boys, that was all.

Car doors slammed shut and Damian was already behind the wheel making his way to you. “We’re on our way.” He felt a poke to his bicep. Jon motioned towards the phone, opening and closing his hand in request. “I’m going to pass the phone to Jon. He’s going to stay on the line until we reach you, okay?”

Damian barely waited for your small “ok” before handing the phone off. He didn’t bother to fill Jon in on the conversation, it was obvious he was already listening intently.

“Hey, sunshine.” Jon pointed directions out and Damian followed. No need for maps when you have a super-hearing alien who knows exactly where you are just by the sounds of traffic and the volume of your heartbeat. “We’re coming as fast as we can. Just give us ten minutes and we’ll be there with you.”

Damian focused on driving, the one thing he could do at this moment. He was tactical, he was useful. Jon was the comforting one; Jon was the one who could navigate emotionally tense situations with ease. So he gripped the steering wheel tighter and made sure he got to you safely.

Strengths. All three of you had them just as you all had weaknesses. But the beauty of your triad came from how perfectly your strengths filled each others’ weaknesses. You lifted each other up, and when you couldn’t, it was easy to lean on one another.

So Jon handled the comfort, Damian handled the logistics.

Words of affirmations flew out of Jon’s mouth in a way that Damian used to envy. Now, he found it endearing. He has his own strengths and that’s okay.

“Just ten minutes, baby. Ten minutes and everything will be okay, I promise.”

Red lights glared down at Damian.

“Breath with me. In and out, just like that. Keep doing that.”

Stop signs seemed taller than usual, more demeaning.

“You’re gonna be alright. I know it doesn’t feel that way right now but you’ll be okay soon, you just gotta hang in there for us.”

Brakes screeched against the pavement.

“I'm so proud of you, you’re so brave right now. No, don’t be like that. You’re so strong, you’ll get through this, I swear.”

His fingers tapped against the gear shift impatiently.

“Are the doors locked? Yea? That’s good. You did good—so good.”

He heard you sob into the receiver and his heart twisted painfully.

“You’re safe. No one can get to you right now without your consent. Just keep telling yourself that: no one can get in, no one can reach you, you’re safe.”

His foot finally hit the gas.

“You’re alright, sweetheart. You're okay. You did everything right—yes you did. Yes, Y/n. You got to safety, you pulled over, you locked the doors, and you called us. You did everything right.”

He made a right and then a left.

“Five more minutes, bub. Just five more minutes. Keep breathing. Just a few more minutes and we’ll be right there with you.”

He was trapped behind a slow Jeep—he switched lanes.

“Yea? Grab the jacket and hold it tight. I’d rather you hold that. Just a few more minutes and that jacket will be replaced with us, alright?”

Yellow lights always annoyed him the most.

“We’re coming, I promise. We’re coming.”

He swerved into the complex, not caring if he cut someone off in the process.

“We’re pulling in right beside you. That car is us so don’t be scared. It’s just us, baby.”

Damian clicked off the car and tumbled out with Jon quick to follow suit. He always forgot how much Jon used pet names as he rambled through words of reassurance. He was sure it was some kind of nervous tick Jon had, a way for him to soothe both himself and the other person. It could also just be a habit of his mouth speaking far faster than his brain, but the nicknames flowed out of him so fast either way.

“You gotta let us in, love. We can’t help from out here.” Jon’s hand gently rested on the glass window to the backseat. Damian motioned towards the building in front of the car, Jon nodded in response, already knowing his thought process far before Damian’s feet started moving backwards.

Focus on his strengths. Focus on what he can do. Focus on that.

The car doors unlocked and the boys split up.

⋘⋙

You were huddled in the backseat for what felt like hours and milliseconds all at once. Every time your breaths evened, your brain fizzled out with it until you couldn’t feel anything aside from the car key scraping against your palm and the plastic door digging into your spine.

Legs pulled into your chest, phone to your ear, and arms wrapped around a hoodie long since stolen for your backseat, you waited. You tried to bury your nose in the scent of pine and peppermint, a tanglement of your home—your boys—but it never fully sunk into your comprehension.

Your empty hand grasped at the plush cotton in a sour attempt at bringing yourself back up. Unfortunately, the second you were brought back to awareness, your breathing spiked. Every distant voice, every shifting shadow, even the cars passing by in the nearby road—it all screamed danger into your head until you struggled to breathe.

Even in this locked prison, you still felt too exposed. You were miles from home and miles from safety, how could you not?

The doors are locked.

You’re safe.

No one can come in without your permission.

They’re coming.

When a car pulled beside yours, a familiar tint of windows and gleam of dark steel, you fought all of your instincts to run, to hide, to scream.

The doors are locked.

You’re safe.

No one can come in without your permission.

They’re here.

It took every ounce of your willpower to allow your finger to press the open lock icon after pressing the locked one over and over again for what felt like an eternity.

“Y/n,” Jon sighed out in relief. The call ended and what once was a distant voice was now a full fledged being.

“Please close the door,” you sobbed out, feeling nothing but claws of terror scratch up your chest the longer the door stayed open. Jon instantly complied, shutting the door as gently as he could without slamming it.

The doors instantly locked again.

“Can I touch you?” he started with. He didn’t bother asking if you were okay or asking what you needed, it would be pointless. You weren’t okay and asking what you needed when you were so clearly in peril would just put unnecessary weight onto your shoulders when he should be taking it off.

Your hands fisted into the fabric, fingers swimming amongst the mountain of cotton. “I-I,” you choked on an inhale, “I don’t know.”

And how could you? Sometimes touch was a blessing, a craving nothing else could satiate. Sometimes touch was the only way to bring you back all the way: it was grounded as was it weighted, it was nice.

But sometimes touch was terrifying, a pressure of what if tangled in previous experiences. Sometimes touch was the only thing that terrified you the most: after such a night, how could you possibly feel safe with an ounce of contact?

“Okay,” Jon said quickly, not wanting to make you feel worse about your own indecision. “What if we try? I’ll pull away the second you tell me to, pinky swear.”

He even raised his pinky to solidify the statement. If you weren’t miles deep into a panic attack and hundreds of tears worn, you probably would have laughed. Instead, you nodded, a jerky movement that shifted the fabric around your face.

“I’m gonna place my hand on top of your knee, real slow. You tell me if you don’t want it there anymore.” He looked into your eyes with his vibrant blue bells. His face was so sure, so confident, but the edges of his face were hardened with worry. He really couldn’t hide his emotions around you.

You nodded once more. You saw your own quickened breaths more than you felt them, the shadows off to your right reflecting the rise and fall of your chest.

Jon’s hand was raised slightly above your knee and he hesitated just enough for you to track his movements. Then it was nothing but a light touch of fingertips, then fingers, then a palm, and then an entire hand.

Despite his slow, deliberate movements, you still flinched. It was a whole-body jerk that started with pulling your legs closer to you and ended with your shoulders hitching upwards. Jon bit the inside of his cheek at the reaction, ignoring the way it dug into his heart a little too deep for his own sanity.

He kept his hand there even when your body’s instinctual reaction screamed for him to pull back. Jon waited for your words, but more importantly, he waited for you to settle into the touch or comprehend that you didn’t want it anymore—whichever ended up happening.

Luckily, it was the former. Your shoulders pressed back into the door behind you and your head leaned against the car seat. Your feet unhooked at the ankles and relaxed.

“Do you want more touch or is this enough for now?”

You felt the heat radiate from his palm, it fought against the storm of fire boiling in every fiber of your being. It also fought against the sheet of ice that threatened to separate you from the rest of the world. It was enough.

“ ‘s good for now,” you breathed in shakily. Trying to match the rise and fall of the chest in front of you.

Jon looked off to the side and squinted into the darkness. “Damian’s on his way back.” His thumb absent-mindedly rubbed against your knee slowly and in a small movement. It was so small you barely would’ve realized it if your knee wasn’t at eye level. “You’ll have to let him in soon.”

Your eyes flickered over to just beyond your car and into the entrance to the building—the cafe—where Damian had started walking out of. You had a moment or two to emotionally prepare yourself to unlock those doors.

You struggled on your next breath and Jon heard it. He returned his gaze to you. “Breathe, baby. It’s just Dami. You can lock the doors immediately afterwards.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, hating the way your breathing sped up slightly as you clicked the open lock. Gears shifted and the reversal of the click was impossibly loud against your muddled brain.

The door in front of you swung open and Jon pulled Damian inside before closing the door as soon as possible. You found your thumb pressing the lock button the second you heard the car door close. You never once felt the hand on your knee leave and you silently thanked Jon’s perceptiveness.

Opening your eyes, you were met with Damian’s emerald eyes looking at you with as much concern as those eyes could ever truly show. Jon had somehow found his way squished in between the seats and middle console, half debating if he should just sit on the floor or on the console. Damian sat across from you with his hands full of drinks and food.

He offered you the blend of sugar and ice to which you took without much hesitation. Your head was pounding. You could hear your heartbeat in your ear and you could feel it in your temples. It was unbearably hot with pain.

“I got your usual,” Damian said, “just the way you like it.”

You sniffled, already feeling the fire inside swirl into dissipation. “No inclusions?” you asked in a small voice.

“No inclusions,” he reassured you.

“The base?”

“Lemonade, not water.”

You opened your mouth to ask another question but Damian was quick to read your mind. He lifted up a straw still wrapped in its plastic casing. “Yes, I got you a straw.”

For the first time that night, you smiled. It was small, twitchy, and faded just as quick as it came, but it was still better than the choked off sobs from earlier over the phone.

Damian opened the top of the straw for you and you held out your drink for him to place it inside. Your hands were so shaky it was difficult to even hold the large drink (because of course he got you the biggest size), let alone have enough dexterity to open a straw.

“I also bought cake pops,” he lifted up the three brown bags of parchment that held your sugary treat. He knew you so well you swore he was a mind reader. Your hands were shaking from panic but also from how low your energy levels were from using every ounce of it to breathe.

Damian lifted the first bag after peering inside. “Birthday cake.”

You snatched the bag.

“Chocolate.”

Jon did the same for his.

“And mine.” Damian set his bag in his lap and handed Jon his drink full of sugar.

Jon propped open the cup holders attached to the center console and set his drink inside, Damian was quick to set his water beside it.

You clutched your drink with both hands, enjoying the feeling of the cold condensation against your aching fingers. “Thank you.”

Damian hummed in response. It didn’t take long for his hand to find its way onto your other knee and this time, you didn’t end up flinching. You swore the presence of your two lovers was more than enough to calm any attack that found its way up to you. Tonight was proof of that.

“Your breathing is still too fast for my liking,” Damian spoke up. “Do you want to go through some breathing exercises?”

Both of the boys looked at you expectantly. You shrunk back slightly at the pressure before you shook your head. “Can . . .” you breathed in to reassure yourself—your request was okay, you’re voicing your needs, you’re valid—“Can you guys just distract me?”

They shared a look between each other and Jon ended up speaking up first: “Go ahead, Dami. Distract them.”

“Why do I have to?” Damian demanded, “You’re obviously better at running your mouth than I am.”

“Because I said so?”

“Because you said so,” Damian mocked, “Really? Do you honestly believe that holds any true merit in this household?”

Jon scoffed. “It does when you say it so why doesn’t it when I say it?”

“Because I’m better than you, obviously.”

“Am not.”

“Am too.”

“Boys,” you giggled through the word. Your grip on your drink was loose and your legs uncurled slowly until they pressed into Damian’s shin. “While this is adorable, I just want to listen to you two talk, not bicker.”

One of them huffed from their nose and you genuinely couldn’t tell who—you’re half convinced they both did.

“Fine.” Damian’s free hand fell around the top of your shoe, his pinky brushing against your ankle. “Go ahead, genius. Tell our beloved what you did to the kitchen while making dinner tonight.”

Jon’s eyes widened slowly. “We agreed not to tell them,” he whisper-shouted.

Damian shrugged.

You turned to Jon with a fire behind your eyes.

“What did you do to my freshly cleaned kitchen?”

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@cherry-dropp

@missredrobin

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faghubby · 1 month

Text

My married lover

(this is based on a true relationship but a collection of encounters over several years)

Dan was married and considered himself a straight man. But the first time I met him we where in a bar that catered to the alphabet. He approached me straight away. He bought me a drink.

"I like to take you down the street to the motel and have my way with you" he said boldly. I was memorized by his bold and honest demeanor. His hand grabbed my crotch under the table.

"You are a little sissy bitch aren't you?" He asked. I just blushed. I was dressed from work. How would he know? My dirty jeans and work boots. I didn't look like a sissy. But he was right. I just nodded. He stood paid the bill and led me by the hand out of the bar. He opened his car door for me. My truck was right there I thought but didn't say a word just went with him. He checked into the motel and led me again by the hand like a child to the room.

"Strip" he commanded. Shaking I did as he said. He had me leave my satin panties with little roses all over them. My dick straining to break out of them. I dropped and unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. It was so big I thought. Later finding out it was 9 inches of amazing thick cock. I sucked his cock. Licking his cock and balls I needed his cock. My jaw hurt by the time he came all over my face. As I cleaned my face he started to explain what he wanted.

"My wife let's me have these little games, to satisfy my little cravings for what she considers beneath her. I need to someone submit, to make them submit." He explained.

"You need to submit don't you?" He smiled his hand grabbed my ass. I just nodded.

"Do you know about chastity?" He asked.

"Yes" I said my voice trembling.

"It is required" Dan explained. "I will want you to submit to alot more" his hand reached into my panties his fingers rubbed my asshole.

"I understand" I told him.

"I may spank you" Dan warned me.

"I understand" I said

"I am going to fuck you now" Dan told me. I didn't resist just turned and bent over the bed. He had lube and lubed my ass as he tore my panties from my body. He was not gentile or slow. He forced his monster cock into my hole. I cried but stiffled my scream. As he raped my ass. No other way to describe it. He smacked me as he pounded away on my ass. I don't know how long he fucked me for but it was the longest event of my life. He finally filled my ass with his seed. When finished he held me. My head rested against his chest. As Dan asked me about my life, and experiences. He was gentle and caring at this point. After about an hour and a long talk he drove me back to my truck.

The very next day I started getting presents delivered to my house. First flowers thanking me for a lovely evening. A few days later I recieved a chastity cage. It was quite small. Various lingerie, even a dress after that. Everything fit perfectly I had no idea how he knew. When I got a message to meet him at the motel again. I went in the new lingerie but wore my boy clothes not willing to go out in a dress. I managed to fit into the tight cage after several attempts.

Dan looked disappointed that I had not worn the dress but he immediately put his own lock on my cage. He then tied my hands before he fucked me again hard and fast stokes. He pulled my hair and I called out. He stopped suddenly and shoved a gag into my mouth. Then started his assault on my ass again. After he finished he pulled me to him.

"Next time you don't wear what I tell you I swear you will take my whole fucking fist up that pussy of yours" he hissed in my ear. He then pulled me across his lap. Pinning me he smacked my ass.

"Keri left a mess in her car" he told me. Then another blow. "Keri vulgar little mouth swears but won't suck cock" he told me then another blow. I was being punished for what I figured was his wife had done. He continued listing a rash of small things but obviously they bothered him. When he was done, he untied me. And removed the gag. I cuddled up to him begging forgiveness for Keri's wrongdoings. I reached down and stroked his cock. As I did. As he grew hard I opened my mouth and sucked his cock. He seemed to really enjoy it being completely relaxed. I slid down and licked his asshole.

"OH you little slut, trying to make me a faggot. You will have to stay locked up till next time for that" he told me. I didn't care I licked his ass again. Teasing him until he exploded in my mouth.

Dan was true to his word leaving me locked in chastity for 10 days till we met up again. I changed into the dress in truck then ran to the motel room door. He did unlock me and let me masterbate in the bathroom out of his view before he locked me back up. He added toys, and sometimes didn't have sex at all. The first time he took a paddle to my ass I thought I would die. He told me how I was preserving his marriage all his frustration and unsatisfied sexual energy went to me. Allowing him to have a very happy marriage.

As time went by I even got presents from his wife. He liked me locked. But if he wasn't going to see me far a while he did unlock me. Having me put it on a few days before we where to meet. He also understood that I could see other people. But would be upset if I was unable to meet him. And I would pay for it when we did.

He never did fist me, but some of the toys he has used came close.

God I hope he calls again soon!

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

The Chain

Pairing: rockstar!joel x actress!reader

Author’s note: I swear on my life they will get a happy ending eventually

Summary: “I hope you get everything you’ve ever wanted and I hope I never hear a thing about it.” - Audrey Emmett [2.6k]

Warnings: brief mentions of poor mental health, vague allusions to substance abuse issues, nostalgia, we’re burning bridges and working through the stages of grief

"No Joel tonight?" Alexa asks as she swipes blush across your cheeks. You freeze and pick at your cuticles as you think.

The premiere for Red Dirt Girl is finally here, and people will be able to see everything you did and judge it. It's terrifying, exciting, and uncertain, and it turns out that adding a breakup to that mix is not good for your mental health. Getting ready to film for Beginning of the End and leaving for Ireland has been a great distraction as you organize your life into neat little boxes that travel easily. You've poured yourself over the script, looking into dramaturgy and creating a movie Bible to access during shooting. It's not unlike anything you've done for any other project, but this one feels especially important. You've ignored Joel's texts and calls the past week except to tell him to leave you alone, which he did.

"No, he's gonna meet me there," you tell Alexa with a soft practiced smile, and she nods. "What time is it?"

"Six forty-five," Jenna answers from behind you, and you take a deep breath. "You nervous?"

"Yeah, but it's all good. I'm excited for people to see the movie."

"I've been hearing really good things from reviewers."

"Really?" You ask, and they both nod.

"Heard it was one of your most powerful performances to date," Alexa says as she hands you a brilliant red lipstick, and you anxiously turn the tube over in your hands. It's silent as you slide the color over your lips, power, and confidence taking over as you take in the full look for the first time. True to the name of the movie, you and your castmates decided to wear red. When you told this to your stylist, she was thrilled and said she knew exactly what she wanted to put you in— an off-the-shoulder red dress with a lower neckline (á la Pretty Woman) with a slit in the long skirt. It's pretty simple, but when you added the jewelry, hair, makeup, and shoes, it became a beautiful mix of elegant and sexy. "Joel is gonna freak the fuck out when he sees you."

You know she's trying to hype you up and get you excited for the premiere. You know she's trying to be nice, but the idea of seeing him makes your stomach churn. You nod and pocket the tube of lipstick before standing. You thank them both for helping you get ready but don't say much else as you get escorted out of the hotel room and down to the car waiting for you. Based on the number of people outside the red carpet, half of LA seems to either be getting to the premiere or already at the event. It's insane to see that many people there for something you helped make.

Cameras flash the second you step out of the car, and people scream your name. Fans are lined up on either side of the first stretch of carpet when you get to the theatre. You smile and take the time to greet, take pictures, and sign autographs for different people waiting on each side. It's always fun to hear what fans say to you when they get the chance, and every once in a while, you'll have an experience that just truly shocks you. As you take a picture with a twenty-something girl, she rolls up her sleeve and shows you a beautiful tattoo. At first, you're too absorbed in the linework on the flowers, but once you look closer, you see that the flowers surround a line from one of your first major projects, "On Purpose."

You cup your hand over your mouth as you look closer at the ink forever etched into her skin. It was such a quick line. You weren't even sure if it would stick with people like it stuck with you. Your character, Margot, said it when she explained why she loved her husband when he was depressed and feeling like a shitty person. "I love you on purpose," she said. You have to swallow around the lump in your throat to keep yourself from crying as you hug the young woman tightly. Quietly, she tells you what it means to her and why that movie stuck with her so much, and you rub her back as she cries. Despite the cameras flashing and the hundreds of people vying for your attention, you can only focus on her and this interaction. This is why I do what I do, you think.

Once you find the strength to walk away and go to the actual carpet, you ask one of the interns to give two tickets for the premiere to that girl and her friend and smile from afar as you watch them get the news. You blow them a kiss and wave one last time before being shuffled away by one of the bodyguards. When you get to wherever you're supposed to be, you see Joel waiting for you. He's wearing a nicely tailored suit with red flowers embroidered over his chest and shoulders with black shoes. He smiles, and you let him kiss you on the cheek to keep up with appearances, suddenly hyper-aware of the five million cameras pointed in your direction.

"You look beautiful." He says.

"Thanks." You mumble. It's the most you've spoken since you had that massive argument at his house. He wants to say more. You can tell he does. You can hear the fucking gears turning in his head he's thinking so loud. But you don't want to listen to any of it. You're here because you legally have to, and you're not going to miss your own movie premiere. He says your name at the same time someone with an earpiece comes up to tell you it's your turn to walk the carpet. You don't even look at him before walking out to the wolves, him trailing closely behind you.

You take a lot of solo shots, feeling in your moment as you spin and show off the look. However, the second your castmates spot you on the carpet, they rush over to kiss your cheeks, hug you, and take so many stupid photos. Some with Lilly and you back to back like Charlie's Angels, or some with Peter bowing down to you. At one point, Max, the guy who plays your dad, picked you up and spun you around like a baby. Once everyone has gotten through their unhinged behavior, you manage to take some nice full-cast pictures with Lilly right next to you and her hand in yours. It's all fun and lovely until you have to take pictures with Joel. Of course, everyone wants pictures of you being completely in love— kisses on the cheek, forehead, lips. Hold her hand, Joel! No, not like that! Look at him like you love him! Aw! It's exhausting.

When you get toward the end of the carpet, you do interviews with different reporters and answer questions about what you hope people take away from the movie, your favorite memories from set, and more. One reporter gestures to Joel behind you and smiles as she asks, "It must be really nice to have someone like Joel to support you through all this craziness. How have things been with you two? You seem to be everyone's favorite couple right now." You laugh and look back at Joel, who raises his eyebrows at you. You hold your hand out, and he takes it as he joins your interview, much to the reporter's excitement.

"He's pretty great. I mean, look at his matching flowers. Are we kidding?" You gush as you point at the delicate embroidery on his suit, resting your hand on his chest.

"They are pretty amazing! Everyone was talking about you guys coordinating. I think someone even called you a power couple."

"Well, I don't know about that, but we're definitely very happy. I think he's navigating the actress thing pretty well." You say, and he laughs. The interviewer thanks you both and sends you on your way. The second you two enter the theatre, Joel grabs your arm and pulls you to the side where you're out of earshot of other people.

"Can we talk?" He asks as you rip your arm away from him.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Then, can I talk, and you listen?" He asks. You roll your eyes and shake your head. You should say no. You should push past him and go to sit down without saying another word, but for some stupid reason, you stay quiet. He takes a deep breath and grinds his teeth nervously. "I'm sorry. I should've told you Sarah was in contact with Angela. I was scared you would get freaked out or think I didn't wanna be with you because I did. I still do. But, I swear, I didn't know she was gonna be there that night. Sarah invited her without tellin' me, and I..." he sighs. "I thought she was dead. She'd been sick for so long, and I hadn't heard anythin' for years. So, when I saw her... I don't know. It fucked with my head, and that's not an excuse."

"No, it's not," you say. "I want Sarah to have everything she's ever wanted, and if that includes a relationship with her mom, then I have no problem with that. What I have a problem with is you lying to me or arguing with me about work when I've never once made a big deal about your job."

"You're right, and I'm so sorry."

"I trusted you, Joel. More than I've ever trusted a partner, and you broke that."

"I know," he says simply. "I can't change what happened, but I wanna try to earn your trust again."

"I don't have time to start over."

"We can find time."

"When? You'll release your album and go on tour, and I'll go back to work. Plus, you've gotta figure out this whole co-parenting situation now." You say, and he nods.

"We'll figure it out. We found time before, right? You came to the studio, and I went to set. We can do that again."

"We had time because my schedule for the past few months has literally been created around yours."

"Then, I’ll create my schedule around yours. I'll plan dates and trips. We can fix this. Just-"

"Pike offered me a role. A big one, and I took it. I'm shooting in Ireland for at least six months in three weeks." You cut him off, the words spilling out of you.

"What?" He asks, and you shrug.

"This could be huge for me. I read the script. It's amazing. It's the best script I've read in a long time, and he's not directing. I don't even think he'll be on set a majority of the time but-"

"Do you even hear yourself? When he pulled that shit a couple months ago, you were scared out of your fucking mind!" He raises his voice, and you grab him and press the two of you further into the corner you're hidden in.

"I had it handled." You mutter, and he scoffs.

"That's what you call handling it?"

"Yes. Not everyone can go around punching photographers and yelling at their managers when something goes wrong!" You snap.

"Really?" He asks, visibly shrinking as he takes in what you just said. You smooth your hands down your dress and glance around to see if anybody heard you. You bite the inside of your cheek and look at him, but he's looking at his feet.

"This is the chance I've been working my whole fucking life for, and I'm not going to let it pass me by because of one shitty guy. I want to make beautiful art and bring this character to life. I want to do the work. I want a fucking legacy," you say. He refuses to look at you, and you let out a sharp exhale. "I want to be great or nothing, and I'm sorry if you can't handle that."

For one long, painful minute, neither of you says anything. You stand there, shifting your weight anxiously while waiting for him to say something. There's nothing he can say that would make you change your mind. You decided that way before tonight, but this, the silence, hurts more than you thought. How was there once a time when you two talked so much that you fell asleep on the phone? Those people seem so far away, so stupid, compared to the people you are now.

"I guess you were right. I guess there's nowhere for us to go after this."

"No, there's not," you say. "I'm sorry." He nods and doesn't say anything as he steps closer. You get a whiff of his cologne when he leans down to kiss your cheek, lingering for a second before pulling away.

"D'you want me to stay?" He asks, and both its meanings slap you in the face. He asked you the same thing the first time he laid next to you after the car accident, more than ready to give up his bed to you. You looked at him through the darkness and nodded before letting him hold you until you fell asleep. He asked you the same thing when you were doing dishes while on FaceTime with him. You looked at him through the hundreds of miles separating you and nodded as you scrubbed a plate clean. But this time is different. This time you take a shaky breath and push his hair out of his eyes so you can see through the curls.

"No." You say. He doesn't fight you. He just takes a step back and looks over your dress like it's the first time he's seeing you. His brown eyes move over you, making you suddenly self-conscious, but you straighten your posture and square your shoulders to hide it. He smiles half-heartedly, and you know he knows why you did that.

"Have a good night, pretty girl." He says before turning away from you and walking toward the back doors of the theatre to leave without the press seeing him. You watch him disappear. If this were a movie, you would cry or chase after him. Run through an airport to catch him before he gets on his flight. If this were a movie, you'd tell him you love him. He'd say it back, and you'd kiss like all the problems that led to the third-act breakup are suddenly solved. If this were a movie, you'd quit your job to move in with him and paint baby nurseries and spend the rest of your life bending around his.

Fuck that.

"Hey, the movie's about to start," Lilly gets your attention, and you look at her. She smiles and holds her hand out to you. "Sit with me?" She asks, and you smile back. You walk over and slide your arm around her shoulders to pull her close and kiss her temple.

"Of course." You say. Then, without much fuss, she interlocks your fingers, and you two walk into the dim theatre, knowing you've earned your seats and then some.

#one for the money two for the show #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #the last of us au #tlou au #pedro pascal #rockstar!joel miller

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onceuponastory · 1 year

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a true hero - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: When Princess Y/N is taken by a dragon, Bucky Barnes, her best friend and a humble blacksmith, joins the royal guard in their quest to help rescue her. Pairing: Blacksmith!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader Warnings: People and horses being killed by a dragon, ableism towards Bucky and his metal arm, injuries (nothing too graphic), classism, John Walker being an asshole, and Bucky doubting himself because of it. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: This is another piece for @buckybarnesevents Alternate June-iverse Connect Four event! I combined the two squares Mythology and Royalty. This could also fit the Fairytale square, but I have a separate idea planned for that, (wink wink). This is based on a Scottish myth/legend. I just reworked it a little for this fic and gave it a slightly happier ending.

Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

One spring morning, Bucky Barnes is hard at work. Sweat drips from his forehead, both due to the fire and his fast work. His work as the kingdom’s blacksmith keeps him busy, whether it’s making horseshoes for the local farmers, or new swords for the royal guard. He inherited the shop from his father a decade ago, and has since transformed it into a successful business.

“Hello Bucky.” A familiar, soft voice speaks. Bucky gasps, quickly wiping the sweat from his brow and hoping he doesn’t have any dirt on his face. Not that Princess Y/N would care, though. She’s always been so kind to him, despite the difference in their upbringings and social classes. She’ll make a great Queen someday.

“Your highness.” Bucky murmurs, dropping into a bow. Y/N chuckles.

“Please, Bucky. I’ve told you plenty of times that you don’t need to call me that. After all, you’ve known me for long enough. Y/N is fine.” She’s right. The pair are the same age, and have known each other for most of their lives. Ever since a young Y/N visited Bucky’s father’s workshop with her father, and made a point of introducing herself to him. Since that day, Y/N always visits him whenever she can, either at his workshop or when he delivers weapons to the royal guards. Bucky knows that most people in the kingdom are wondering what a Princess would have in common with a blacksmith… and honestly, sometimes he wonders that too. Surely a well travelled, fancy Lord or Prince is more interesting than spending time with him. But Y/N never seems to have thought that, or judged him for what he does. In fact, he swears he could tell her the entire process of making a sword, and she’d still hang onto his every word.

“W-What are you doing here?” He chuckles, hating how tongue tied he suddenly is.

“Well, I’m visiting the local library, and I had to come see you, of course. I do enjoy our visits.” She smiles. Bucky enjoys them, too. Although, that may be obvious considering the lovesick grin he has whenever she visits him. He’s been in love with Y/N for as long as he can remember. She’s the first thing he thinks of whenever he wakes up, and the last thing he thinks of when he goes to sleep. He’s never told her, though. Of course not. How could a humble blacksmith like him win a Princess' heart?

Y/N may treat him with kindness despite their different lives, but few others would. And besides, one of those fancy Lords or Princes could give her so much more than he ever could. Y/N deserves a happy life, with everything she could ever need. And Bucky just can’t provide that. But, If being Y/N’s friend is all he’s destined to be, then that’s alright with him. Yet, he just can’t ignore how much his heart sinks when he thinks those words. “So, what have you been working on?” She asks. And then her eyes widen. “Oh, my goodness! Your arm!”

Bucky chuckles. “I finished working on the new version a few days ago.” He smiles proudly, turning his body to let Y/N see it. A few years ago, Bucky was involved in a carriage accident, and in the ensuing carnage, his left arm became trapped in the wreckage. Once he was free, the wound became infected. As soon as she found out, Y/N sent for the palace doctor, the best in the kingdom, to treat him. He advised that the arm should be removed as soon as possible, and it was. Since then, Bucky has been working on a metal prosthetic for it. His new version is still in the early stages, but he’s managed to get it moving, and it’s helping him a lot with his work.

“It’s beautiful.” She smiles. “You’ve done a wonderful job.” As Y/N gazes at his arm, her mouth dropped open with curiosity, Bucky smiles. And that same feeling he gets deep in his gut whenever he thinks about or sees Y/N returns. She saved his life that day. How could he ever repay that?

“Y/N, I-”

“Princess! Where are you?” A booming voice sounds, and Y/N’s face falls. Yet before either can say anything more, Sir John Walker storms into the workshop. Immediately, the atmosphere shifts. Sir John is one of the royal knights, sworn to protect Y/N at all costs. Although, considering how cruel and snobby he is to people who dare to even look in Y/N’s direction, both Y/N and Bucky think he may have let the role go to his head slightly. “Princess.” He sighs. “It’s not safe to wander around so freely, especially with this monster on the loose.” Sir John warns. And for once, Bucky agrees with him. For months, young women in the kingdom have been vanishing without a trace. Nobody knows who or what is responsible, whether man or beast, and the royal guard has had little to no luck finding it. Because of the threat, young women in the kingdom won't go out on their own, especially not at night. And despite how much he adores her company, Bucky doesn’t want Y/N to be the next victim.

Although, if he could… Bucky would move heaven and earth, and stay by her side to make sure she’s protected.

“I assure you, Sir John, I am quite safe.” She insists, brushing off his concerns with a wave of her hand.

“You are out here, alone-“

“Bucky is here.” She snaps, her soft voice suddenly laced with anger. Even Bucky is surprised to hear it. “And I trust him.” Her words cause heat to settle on Bucky’s cheeks. Heat not caused by the fire this time.

“Well Princess, I’d still insist that you don’t wander off from your guards again.” John huffs. And then, his disapproving gaze fixes on Bucky, and his eyes narrow. “After all…who knows what trouble you could encounter?” Bucky’s stomach drops, and he tries to ignore John’s words. Yet, it’s difficult. When he said most people in the kingdom must wonder what he and Y/N could have in common… John is absolutely that sort of person. “Now, come on. Your father requests your presence at the library.”

“Sorry.” Y/N whispers, bidding Bucky goodbye with a small wave of her hand. Bucky nods, returning the wave. Yet, after Y/N leaves, John stays for a moment, continuing to walk around Bucky’s workshop in silence.

“Is there an issue, Sir John?” Bucky asks, both to break the awkward silence, and in the hopes it pushes him to leave. Scoffing, John steps closer. As his body turns, he almost flexes the royal crest on his shoulder, reminding Bucky of the power imbalance between them.

“Princess Y/N may be too kind to say it, but I am not. If I were you…I’d take some time to remember my place.” He whispers, spitting out the last word like it’s venom.

“I’ve known her since we were young, John. If she wants to see me, she has every right to.” Bucky replies, clenching his jaw. He stands tall and defensive, to show John he doesn’t care about his words. But all he’s doing is reinforcing the same things Bucky tells himself all the time.

He doesn’t fit in.

Y/N’s only being kind, and doesn’t really care about him.

The second she finds someone new, someone worthy of her status, she’ll forget about him.

“Don’t let him get to you.” He thinks. “He’s just a horrible person. Y/N cares about you, you know she does. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re just a lowly blacksmith. You don’t fit into this world.” John hisses. “The sooner you learn that, and stay away from her, the better.” And with that, he stalks out of the workshop, back to Y/N. As soon as he’s gone, Bucky sighs, his rigid, defensive posture collapsing. He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“Dammit.” He hisses, leaning against the wall as he feels tears springing to his eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few weeks later, Bucky lays asleep. The early morning sun streams in, lightly warming his face as his chest slowly rises and falls, and as he hangs on to his dream world for a little while longer. For a while, everything is quiet and at peace. Until a loud shout cuts through the morning, accompanied by the sound of hooves.

“Citizens! We have an urgent message from your King. Please come to the main square as soon as possible!” The noise immediately awakens Bucky. Moaning softly to himself, he clambers out of bed and pulls on some clothes. Still half asleep, he makes his way outside and joins the crowd of people gathering in the square. Whispers fill the air about what this emergency declaration could be, whether it’s new taxes or a war with some neighbouring kingdom.

A member of the royal guard steps forward. Bucky recognises him. His name is Steve Rogers, and he’s a lot kinder to him than John ever was. Most notably, he treats him with respect, and like a human being, rather than looking at him like he’s muck on the bottom of his boot. As Steve approaches the crowd, the whispers about what this could be intensify. But in all honesty, Bucky doesn’t care. He just wants to go back to bed as soon as possible.

That is, however, until he hears the announcement.

“Last night, the beast struck again. Someone spotted it, meaning we finally have visual confirmation of what it is. It’s a dragon.” Immediately, the whispers turn into a furore. Bucky raises a brow. He had heard stories of dragons as a child, but thought they were just a myth. A cautionary tale told to remind him to behave, lest he be left outside for the dragon to find him. But Steve has more to say. “And….” He takes a breath. “It’s taken Princess Y/N.” Bucky’s heart almost stops, and his mouth drops open. For a moment, he swears he could collapse from the shock. Please, god, let this be a horrible nightmare. Please let him wake up. Why didn’t he try harder, tell her to be safer, or promise to come find him if she needed help? His chest tightens, and he gasps, trying to breathe but feeling his chest constricting. All he ever wanted to do is protect her, and he failed. “We have lived in fear for long enough. We believe we know where its cave could be, and we are sending out an army to track it down. Our mission is to rescue as many people as possible. Including the Princess.” Steve explains. “But we need more support. Are there any volunteers?”

Without another thought, Bucky steps forward. “I would like to help.” Steve smiles.

“Excellent, Mister Barnes.” And then, an all too familiar voice sounds.

“And please, tell me how you, a lowly blacksmith, intend to help the royal guard?” Sir John sneers, laughing. “Do you even have any experience with swordsmanship?” Instantly, Bucky is transported back to his workshop the last time John was there, and the embarrassment he felt at how John looked at and spoke to him creeps in once more. Now, though, it’s tenfold. Of course, Bucky isn’t stupid. He knows how this must look. He’s not a knight, much less one whose sole purpose is to keep Y/N safe. And John’s right, he’s got hardly any experience in using weapons, let alone using them to kill a giant beast like a dragon. He’s just someone who loves Y/N… and isn’t that enough?

“I want to help. I can make weapons. And I spend enough time around swords, so surely I’ll pick up sword fighting easily enough.” He explains, acutely aware of how the entire crowd is staring at him.

John glances down at Bucky’s metal arm, and scoffs. “For this mission, we require our recruits to be… fully operational, able to do whatever we need, whenever we need. I’m not sure if you’d be a suitable choice.” Right away, Bucky knows what he means, and he understands why, aside from his upbringing, John is so dead set on treating him so horribly. His arm. As if having a prosthetic makes someone any less of a hero, or prevents them from doing the right thing. Bucky’s cheeks burn with a mixture of embarrassment and anger, and tears sting at his eyes once more. How dare he? He tried so hard, all this time, to not let John’s words affect him. But now he knows that he’s judging him and viewing him as lesser because of his disability, something he cannot control… hurts him deeply. All he wants is to save Princess Y/N. Is that so wrong?

“It’s beautiful.” Her words replay in his mind, as does the look of pride and wonder she had as she looked at it. That memory makes Bucky feel even worse. The one person who stood up for him and appreciated him has been taken, and there’s no way of knowing if she’s even still alive. And they won’t even let him help rescue her.

“Sir John. Please don’t be so rude.” Sir Steve hisses. “He obviously cares for the Princess a great deal, and I do not see why his arm makes him a lesser candidate.” Bucky breathes a small sigh of relief. At least he has Sir Steve in his corner. Sir Steve turns back to Bucky, smiling. “Thank you for volunteering, Mister Barnes. You will be a fine addition to the army.” He insists, giving John a look as if to warn him not to protest further. Yet, the look John gives Bucky strikes fear into him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few days later, the group sets off, ready to rescue the Princess and the others. Bucky glances down at the horse they gave him to ride. He’s not used to horse riding, or any part of this life. He still feels completely out of his depth. Suddenly, a memory enters his mind.

“I thought I’d find you here.” Y/N giggles, stopping in front of him. “I was out on a ride, and thought I’d come see my favourite person.” Bucky’s heart almost goes into overdrive, and his cheeks burn. “This is Chestnut.” The horse steps closer to Bucky, nuzzling into his hand slightly.

“He’s beautiful.” Bucky smiles. “I’ve never been horse riding before. Honestly, it kinda scares me a little.” He admits, but Y/N chuckles. Not mocking him, though. She never could.

“You don’t have to be afraid. It’s really quite simple when you get used to it.” Y/N laughs, letting him pet Chestnut. “I love it. But they have trained me to do this my whole life.” Bucky would love that. But to be honest, he’d love spending time with her, doing anything and everything possible. As their hands brush his coat, accidentally, their hands touch, and it sends a shockwave throughout Bucky’s entire body. So strong, so passionate that for a moment, it leaves him speechless. He registers something flickering in Y/N’s expression, and he wonders if Y/N feels the same about him. And yet, he can’t find the words to ask her, or tell her the truth.

Bucky wishes he’d asked her now, or at least admitted his feelings. Maybe he could’ve prevented this, or at least found some way to protect her. The pit of guilt and fear continues to build deep in his gut. Y/N could be anywhere, even dying, and he does not know where.

“Maybe one day I’ll teach you how to ride.” Her last words to him that day echo in his mind.

Little did either of them know, though, where they’d be now, with Bucky riding a horse to slay a dragon and save her life. Or partnering up with Sir John Walker, of all people. Thankfully for Bucky, Sir John stays up ahead, as far away from him as possible. For now, anyway. Sir Steve’s horse soon falls into place beside Bucky’s, and Bucky finally takes a moment to relax.

“Thank you Sir.” Bucky says. “For standing up for me back there.” Sir Steve chuckles.

“Not at all. And please, call me Steve.” His face falls, his lips pressed tightly together. “I apologise for Sir John’s comments. He’s….”

“A smug asshole?” Bucky finishes, and Steve laughs.

“Yes, very true.” He nods. “I know I can’t offer much solace, but you’re not the only person he dislikes and treats so cruelly. He doesn’t seem to like anyone aside from the Princess and her parents… although he usually sucks up to them.” He sighs. That doesn’t surprise Bucky in the slightest. After all, John strikes him as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to step on anyone to get what he wants, especially a position as the head of the Royal Guard. “Honestly, I relish the times when I get to put him in his place. Unfortunately, though, I can’t do much to get him removed. I know it cannot ease the way you feel, but I am glad you’re on this mission with us.”

“I want to do whatever I can to help.” Steve chuckles, and Bucky raises a brow.

“Bucky, you don’t have to pretend. I’ve seen the way you look at the Princess, and how deeply you care for her.” Bucky’s cheeks turn scarlet, and his eyes widen.

“I was-” Bucky stammers, expecting to be told off for flirting above his station. But instead, Steve smiles.

“Don’t worry. She speaks about you a lot, actually. And she cares deeply for you, too. Very deeply.” He winks, almost as if there’s something there. Something that Bucky has hoped and prayed was true for so long is true. His heart pounds, his mouth and eyes go even wider, and he blinks in surprise as he tries to think up a way to respond.

As the embarrassment and shock spreads throughout his body, another, warmer feeling grows too.

Hope.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After making camp for the night, the group set off again early the next morning. The atmosphere is more serious, as everyone knows how close they are to reaching the dragon’s cave, yet are unaware of what horror faces them there. Bucky is silent, his stomach churning with anxiety. He barely slept last night, sick with fear about Y/N and if she’s alright. When he did manage to fall asleep, he was awoken by a nightmare. Y/N was alone, screaming and crying out for him, but he couldn’t get to her in time. He knows this is just his mind and his anxieties about Y/N, but he still hopes to whatever higher power there is that this wasn’t a prophetic dream, and that Y/N is okay.

The closer they get to the cave, the trees darken with soot, their branches scorched by fire. Bucky registers the hair on the back of his neck standing up. This has somehow suddenly become more real, the fact they’re dealing with a fire blowing dragon, not just a mere mortal. Suddenly, he feels far more out of his depth. Yet, he keeps going, ready to save Princess Y/N. Unfortunately, the closer they get to the cave, the more insufferable John becomes.

“When we arrive, I’ll take charge with a group of soldiers and attack this monster head on.” He insists. “And then, I’ll bring back its head, and Princess Y/N will be in my arms.” As he and his friends whisper and laugh amongst themselves, Bucky hears the words “Surely there’ll be a royal wedding soon”, and all the things John’s sure Y/N will do to thank him for saving her life. Once more, Bucky’s stomach begins to churn. This time, though, it’s for something completely different. The way John speaks about Y/N, like she’s an object just for him to possess, makes him feel sick. Like someone as loving as her would ever want to marry someone like him.

“That plan will not work.” The words leave Bucky’s mouth before he can even stop them, and John stops, turning to face him, a brow angrily raised.

“Excuse me?” Bucky’s blood chills, but he still keeps going.

“I think it would be better if we went slower and surprised the dragon. Or at least, planned an attack first. If we all charge in on our horses, it’s going to hear us coming and attack us all before we can get too close.” John scoffs.

“Do you truly believe a blacksmith knows more than-”

“John, please.” Steve hisses, coming to Bucky’s defence once again, much to Bucky’s relief. “Let him speak.”

“Very well.” John sneers. Yet, Steve’s defence gives Bucky more confidence, and he continues.

“Like I said, if we go in too fast and loud, it’ll notice us from miles away and be ready to kill us all before we can even strike.” He explains. “I propose we wait a while until it falls asleep. That way, we can sneak up and wound it before it has the chance to fight back.” As Bucky talks through his idea, John continues to scoff and roll his eyes, muttering things under his breath. Bucky knows he probably does sound crazy to some people, not least because John’s right, he’s not a royal guard. And deep down, he doesn’t even know if this plan will work better than John’s, or at all. But that doesn’t mean he can’t point out the flaws in John’s idea. And after so long being treated like a second-class citizen by him, Bucky’s ready to take full pleasure in doing so.

“Very well. Who believes in this plan?” John asks, and some hands in the group rise, including Steve’s. “Well. You can all sit around like sitting ducks whilst we rescue the Princess and kill the beast.” He shrugs.

As they advance on the cave, Bucky begins to wonder if John may be right about this after all, if his idea is complete nonsense. But then, Y/N’s smile fills his mind once more. She always believed in him, even when nobody else would. And really, her support is all that matters to him.

Soon, they reach a clearing, the dragons’ cave a few metres ahead, and the group takes shelter to prepare themselves. Most stay back with Bucky, following his advice and getting ready to plan their attack. Meanwhile, John and his followers get ready to charge. “See you at the wedding.” John whispers to Bucky, smirking down at him from his horse. Bucky refrains from punching him in the face.

As John’s group charges in, Bucky and the others wait for any noise or movement. Within seconds, a roar fills the air… as does the sound of screaming. Horrible, anguished screams that chill Bucky’s entire body, the likes of which Bucky has never heard before. He also registers the sound of horse hooves, of people desperately trying to get away… but another roar sounds, and they soon stop.

“God….” Steve gasps as the agonising screams continue. Bucky tries to cover his ears, wanting the noises to stop, but they keep going. It’s suddenly very obvious what’s happened to John and the others. And what could happen to Bucky and the others if they don’t time their attack exactly right.

He looks around the group, each of the men staring back at him, their bodies shaking and mouths wide open with fear. Even Steve looks horrified, his face pale and panicked. They look at him, seeking reassurance that this won't happen to them. And Bucky doesn’t even know what he can say.

Soon, the screaming stops. And once more, the clearing is silent.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nightfall comes quicker than Bucky would’ve liked, but he also uses the time to refine his plan. Despite the fear still coursing through his veins, he’s determined to kill this beast and save Y/N, whatever the cost. Including the loss of his life.

“So. What shall we do?” Steve asks.

“I’m going in there.” He tells the others. “Myself.” The others protest, but Bucky shakes his head. “No. I don’t want people to get hurt, like last time. You go rescue the others. This is my plan, and I should be the one to go into danger.”

“But you can’t go alone-”

“Yes, I am. Trust me, please.” Bucky hisses. Sighing and clenching his jaw, Steve nods.

“Okay. But if you need any support, we’re helping, alright?”

When Bucky enters the cave, he’s suddenly aware of how much colder it is. He steps closer inside, trying to calm his nerves. He notices a small orange glow down the tunnel, and he follows it, knowing it’ll either lead him to the dragon, or to Y/N. With each step, his heart pounds faster and faster, and he braces himself for whatever he’s about to see. When he rounds the corner, he sees the dragon, curled up and asleep by the fire. As he stares at the beast, one much larger than he expected, he remembers all the stories he was told growing up. Of the brave knights and princes who saved the princesses from the vicious beast. He used to imagine himself like that, as a hero.

Now that he’s here, staring down the dragon all alone… it’s different. And he doesn’t feel much like a hero at all. In fact, he’s terrified.

But Bucky knows what he has to do. He grabs his sword and stabs the dragon in its side. Immediately, it awakens, roaring in pain. As it clambers up, its tail swinging wildly, Bucky ducks underneath it, striking the dragon a few more times as he does so. The dragon readies its tail once more, and Bucky jumps up, clambering onto its body. It jolts, trying to throw him off, but he keeps a grasp on its wing, holding on for dear life. The dragon runs out of the cave, trying to escape him or at least find somewhere to fight. Bucky braces himself… and strikes the beast once more, this time deep in the chest.

With one final, earth shattering screech, the dragon’s body jolts, throwing Bucky clear. He lands hard, hitting his head against the ground, which dazes him for a few seconds. Despite the pain, the last of Bucky’s adrenaline continues to flow through his veins, and he gets back up again… albeit a little more unsteady on his feet. The dragon’s tail clips him a few times, but Bucky still moves forward, raising his sword and striking the dragon a few more times. His hits do not go as deep as his previous ones, yet the beast still roars out in pain. As it staggers away, Bucky tries to follow behind, but by now, the adrenaline is starting to wane, and his head is beginning to hurt.

Yet, as Bucky falls to his knees, about to pass out, he persists. By now, he’s too weak to stand, and instead tries to crawl after the dragon. But he’s too unsteady, and collapses in a heap a few times. Each time, he gets back up, ready to keep going. Until he’s too weak to even stand.

“Bucky…” Y/N’s soft whisper enters his mind. “You have to get up. You have to help me.”

“Y/N…” He murmurs. Even though he knows this is just a hallucination, one caused by his injuries, he can still feel her whisper against his skin, and her hand cupping his cheek.

“Help me. Please.” With one last push, Bucky pulls himself up. But he’s still too weak, and he collapses to his knees once more. And this time, he just wants to go to sleep.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He sighs as the world starts to fade away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Some time later, Bucky comes to. He registers soft blankets and pillows surrounding him, and for a moment he wonders if he’s back home, his moment of heroism little more than a dream. Yet when he opens his eyes, wincing a little at the sudden bright lights, Steve is staring back at him.

“Good afternoon.” He chuckles. “Don’t sit up too quickly. The palace doctor said you’re still pretty concussed, so you’re on bedrest for a while.” Slowly, everything sinks in. Palace doctor. Steve. It’s real. He really fought a dragon. But that means….

“Y/N.” Bucky gasps. Despite Steve’s instruction, he tries to get out of bed. “Where’s Y/N?”

“Princess Y/N is fine.” Steve reassures him. “She had a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing too serious. She’s resumed her royal duties.” Bucky lets out a breath, an immense relief finally off his shoulders.

“Thank the gods.” He smiles.

“And,” Steve continues. “You killed the dragon and saved everyone still trapped in the cave.”

“I…I did?” Bucky gasps, still in disbelief. Still wondering if this is a dream. Steve chuckles, and nods.

“You’re a hero, Bucky.” Before Bucky can say anything more, hurried footsteps echo down the hallway. The door bursts open, and Princess Y/N rushes in.

“Bucky!” she gasps, almost launching herself onto his bed.

“Princess, wait! You’re both still injured-” But Y/N doesn’t even listen to Steve’s words. She wraps her arms around Bucky, pulling him close to her. Despite the pain, Bucky has never been so happy to see her, or to be holding her again. She begins crying, and her body shakes.

“You saved me….” She sniffles. “I thought I’d never see you again, or make it out alive. You saved me.” As she cries, Bucky continues to hold her, stroking her back to comfort her.

“I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“Because of you, Bucky.” She sniffles. “Because of you.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As soon as Bucky is out of the palace infirmary, Y/N’s parents hold a ceremony to thank him for saving the others, including their daughter, and for killing the dragon. Bucky stands beside Steve, dressed in the royal guard’s uniform. Since his rescue mission, Y/N has personally asked that he be appointed as her personal bodyguard, something Bucky is honoured to do.

“This thing is kind of uncomfortable.” Bucky murmurs, adjusting the neckline.

“Thankfully, we don’t have to wear it all the time, but you get used to it.” Steve laughs. “It looks good on you, though. Congratulations, Buck.” Bucky grins, standing up taller as pride fills his body. Although a part of him is still convinced that this is a dream, and that he’ll wake up alone again.

And then, Y/N enters the room, walking down the aisle towards them both. She’s dressed immaculately in her full royal attire, crown perched upon her head. She looks gorgeous, like an angel. As she approaches Bucky, her face beaming, he blushes. Bucky bows, and Y/N lifts her sword, resting it on each shoulder.

“I dub thee Sir Bucky Barnes. The new knight of the realm, and my honoured protector.” She calls, and the crowd applauds.

Later, after the ceremony, Bucky finds Y/N standing on the balcony outside her room. “Shouldn’t you be inside enjoying your party?” She asks, chuckling.

“I wanted to check up on you. We’ve both been through a lot in the past couple of days, to say the least.” Y/N nods. Although she hasn’t spoken too much about what she went through, Bucky knows it can’t have been good. But he wants her to know that he’ll make sure that she’ll never be afraid or alone ever again.

“Thank you for saving my life, Bucky. I could tell you that every day for the rest of my life and it would still never be enough.” Bucky shrugs.

“You saved my life too, Y/N. All those years ago, when you got the palace doctor to see me.” Y/N nods, chuckling.

“I guess we saved each other, then.” As the pair laugh together, Y/N steps closer. “Bucky?” She whispers. Before he can even reply, she reaches up, cupping his face in her hands. In an instant, Bucky knows exactly what she means. “I love you. I have for the longest time.” She gasps. Quickly, she pulls him closer, placing her lips on his in a soft, yet passionate, kiss. Bucky places his hands on her waist, deepening the kiss. The kiss is somehow even better than he imagined it. When they pull apart from each other, Y/N is beaming once more. “Wow…that was incredible.” She gasps.

“I love you too.” Bucky admits. “I was just too scared to tell you the truth because I was afraid, and I thought I didn’t fit into your world because you’re… you’re you, and I was just a blacksmith and-”

“Bucky.” Y/N chuckles, stopping his rambling. “I never cared about our different classes. To me, you’re just Bucky. You’re the most caring person I know, and you make me smile, even on my worst days. And of course, you saved my life. I love you.” She repeats, pecking his lips again, and Bucky smiles.

“I love hearing you say that.”

“Well, I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of my life.” She grins.

“Are there any rules about a Princess dating her bodyguard?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She giggles. “And besides, even if there were… I think I’d be able to change them.” Grinning, Bucky pulls her in for another kiss.

THE END.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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#Connect4AU #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fanfiction #marvel oneshot #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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coltrainbat · 1 year

Note

Chris x reader being really tight friends.

Like they hold hands, hug, forehead/cheek kisses.

They go to an award show, reader is friendly flirting with a Co star of Chris.

He sees it while giving an interview.

When he finishes he comes up from behind, hugs reader close to him and kisses readers cheek. He's slightly jealous...

Media goes wild...

Both phones blow up. Speculations about secret relationship...

Something like that. Thanks 😘

Because I Want You

WARNINGS: Swearing, big mad Chrissy, little angst, jealous Chris

DISCLAIMER: All characters and events written, even those based on real people are entirely fictional and are no representation or comment of said characters in real life.

“How you feeling?” Chris placed his hand on your knee in the limo, rubbing small circles with his thumb over the expensive fabric, desperate to feel your skin.

“I might die from excitement! Did I say thank you? because this is a dream come true.”

“You’ve only said thank you 500 times… but once again you’re welcome and for the final time I wanted you to come because there was no way I was doing this alone.”

“I know I’m just super excited to rub shoulders with celebrities.” You bit your lip, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You know I’m considered a celebrity, right?”

“Yeah, but a REAL celebrity not my guy best friend who despite being a movie star is still in my mind the 12-year-old boy who pinned my down and threatened to lick me unless I gave him the last cookie.”

“Classic move. Worked every single time.” Chris sat smugly.

“You’re disgusting” you glared at him.

“Yet you love me.” He moved a hair out of your face and kissed you on the cheek.

“Do I look good?” You gestured at your dress,

“For the 20th time you look fucking amazing” Chris’s eyes scanned your body like he had done many times this evening, but this time felt like he could openly admire how you looked in the dress. Your boobs and curves filled it out in a way not many women could master, you looked sexy and classy.

“Ok good I just wanted to hear you say it again, also because Henry Cavill is going to be there and omg that man is just… swoon” You smiled, jokingly fanned your face.

Chris’s hand gripped your knee a little tighter. “Yeah. he will be…” His voice got a little quieter as he looked out of the window, slightly taken aback by the comment about his co-star.

Noticing the car coming to a stop, he prepared himself to step out.

“It’s showtime baby, now remember I’ll be right next to you the whole time but when I have to do an interview go stand near my assistant, so I know where you are, ok?”

“Yeah, yeah I get it come on!” You pushed him out of the car, his eyes rolling at your eagerness as he moved around to your door and opened it up for you.

Holding out his hand to help you out of your seat. You were immediately met to the sounds of screams and flashing lights.

Your hand still firmly on Chris’s as he eased you towards the carpet, he dropped it monetarily to wrap it around your waist, putting you in a secure position close to him.

You posed in front of the sea of photographers, increasingly more aware that you’re getting 1000 photos taken of you at once, you go tight in Chris’s grip.

Noticing the instant tension of your body at the scene in front of you, he moved his mouth down, kissing your temple “relax, they’ll love you.” He whispered against your head.

You gave him a small smile moving towards his ear “I’m shitting myself.” You whispered in his ear, his head immediately fell back in a roar of laughter “don’t worry me too babe” he said, smirking at you.

“Chris, we need you for an interview can you come over here please.”

“I’ll be 5 minutes.” He squeezed your waist in reassurance, kissing your cheek quickly as he moved to the handheld mic, and you sulked to the side-lines.

Taking the moment to catch your breath and take in the scene of chaos around you, a hand pressed gently on your shoulder blade.

“Apologies, I just had to talk to the rumoured woman of the hour.” A suave British accent startled you out of your haze.

Your eyes widened at the gorgeous man who had appeared behind you, his tall, muscular figure, looking down on you was contrasted by his soft eyes and charming smile.

“Don’t apologise… woman of the hour?”

“Seems everyone’s talking about that dress…” He gestured to your navy-blue number.

“Well, I was worried about whether it would be ok for this kind of thing, I’m not really used to it.”

“I think it’s more than ok; I’d say it’s brilliant, especially on you.” His piercing gaze never left yours as his tongue peaked out to wet his lower lip, admiring the sight of you.

Your eyes were firmly fixed on Henry’s, lost in the intense eye contact so you didn’t notice the fidgety Chris, stuttering to answer questions as he neck stretched out, trying to reach your eyes. His jaw tightened at the sight of you and Henry, jealously burned in his stomach as he watched his co-star undress you with his eyes.

Trying not to show his annoyance but it was clear his mind was half in the interview, giving vague answers of “oh yeah” “it’s great, it’s brilliant, ya know…” eyes skating towards you constantly as he shoved his fidgeting hands in his pockets, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet.

“Where are my manners, I’m Henry.” He held out a hand, you placed yours in his, where the size difference between the two become obvious. He sandwiched your hand softly between both of his, shaking slightly but never letting go.

“Oh, I know. Y/N, I’m a friend of Chris’s.”

“Friend, you say? Oh well that’s good news, I thought maybe you two were...”

“Chris and me? Oh no we are just-“ you were interrupted as strong hands wrapped around your waist pulling you towards his chest, hoping you’d ease into his grip. His mouth going to the skin between your jaw and your shoulder, placing a soft, wet kiss.

“Hey baby, I see you’ve met Henry.”

“Ahh Chris, hi! Yeah, she’s great we were just talking about you.” Henry got visibly nervous and confused seeing the sudden affection between the two of you.

Blush rose to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Oh really! Awesome well seems Y/N here forgot about this thing we have to go do…”

“I… what…” you looked back at Chris, confusion all over your face.

“Yeah, the thing inside, come on. But hey! we’ll see you after, man. Alright?” Chris was smiling and charismatic but the look in his eyes was a clear, stern stare of “she’s mine, back off.”

The men shared a silent conversation with their eyes, marking a clear understanding that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Yeah, of course, lovely to meet you again, Y/N hope you enjoy the night.” His hand rubbed the back of neck, unsure of whether he should kiss you goodbye but not wanting to further anger the territorial bear that was Chris right now.

Chris pulled you by your arm inside and towards a secluded hallway away from wandering eyes and all the noise.

“What the fuck was that about? Chris you just ruined my chances with Henry Cavill!”

“Good! What the fuck was that? I’m giving an interview and can’t give you attention for 5 minutes, so you go off and find someone else? Sorry I didn’t know Henry fucking Cavill was your best friend for 25 years and that he took you to a major award show as his date!”

“We were talking Chris! It’s not like I was playing tonsil tennis on the carpet - what has gotten into you? You don’t own me! I can flirt with whoever I want! Why do you always have to ruin every chance I get with a guy because you’re so miserable being single you can’t stand to see someone else happy!”

“Because I want to be with you!”

You paused in shock at his sudden confession.

“I’ve been in love with you since middle school for fucksakes and you never noticed. I saw you and Henry and fuck it yeah, I got jealous, I couldn’t stand. I’m sorry I ruined it for you, I just-“

You cut him off by planting a strong kiss on his lips. He instantly relaxed, hands falling to your waist as you ran your hands through his hair, deepening the kiss.

You pulled out looking up at him “I don’t want Henry Cavill.”

“You were trying to make me jealous?” He looked at you quizzically.

You nodded slowly. “It worked though, didn’t it?”

He shook his head and tutted “You are something else you know that?” Before grabbing your face and planting another kiss on you.

What you thought was a private intimate moment turned out to be filmed by some intern peaking around the corner. Turns out you too loud mouths weren’t as quiet when you were fighting as you thought.

Chris Evans and Y/N… FINALLY confirmed

Best Friends to Lovers Trope but in Real Life Hollywood: Chris Evans & Y/N L/N

Chris Evans professes love in viral video!

24 Photos of Chris Evans & Y/N L/N that told us they were never just “best friends”

25 Tweets that perfectly described how we felt about the Chris Evans & Y/N L/N “Nicholas Sparks” Moment

“Because I want to be with you!” Chris Evans pours his heart out to long time best friend

Chris Evans & Y/N L/N confirm relationship through Reps

“I’m glad they got that moment on camera; we’ll show it at the wedding.” Chris Evans shows no angst towards secret filmer of intimate moment between him and Y/N L/N.

Most Wanted Woman in Hollywood: 10 facts about the woman who had Henry Cavill and Chris Evans fighting over her!

#chris evans fic #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x plus size reader #christopher robert evans #chris evans x y/n #chris evans angst #chris evans x you #chris evans one shot #chris evans imagine #chris evans imagines #chris evans x reader angst #chris evans x curvy!reader #chris evans x curvy reader #henry cavill #cevansedit

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moonshine-82 · 8 months

Text

Max Verstappen x Female driver reader

Warnings - angst, j*s verstappen (ewww i know but he’s too good for angst), swearing, also my first ever fic so woo.

Info - ~ writing ~ means flash back. Also sort of based on lyrics from Taylor swifts out of the woods

Summary - you and max have always raced against each other, but now you are both teammates together at red bull. Untold feelings remain however will they be exposed before the pressure get too much

As you trudge away from the wreckage and through the gravel, you can’t help be look back.

~ Max Verstappen was the one name you would always be able to pick out from childhood. As a girl in karting you faced a lot of obstacles; mostly boys and their fathers telling you you weren’t good enough. Max wasn’t one of them. Surprisingly his father wasn’t either, well not outwardly at least. No the year older Dutch boy always treated you the same as everyone else. It did mean he acted like a spoiled little brat who wouldn’t take anything less than a win but that was what everybody got.

This lack of sexism continued as you progressed through the ranks together. As such a friendship began to bloom. Both of you had your difficulties and critics, one the patriarchy and the other their own father, which helped a bond form. You would regularly be seen talking shop before the race and guiding each other through the emotions after. It was a rare occasion that your pair were spotted apart. In that time, Max learnt just how harsh the world was to a girl in motorsport, that no amount of victories will be enough. You learnt that Verstappen’s sore loser nature came from his father, more specifically the way he treated him.

As you grew up together the connection only got stronger, heading up to the higher levels didn’t change that…~

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINK”

A now painfully familiar voice snapped you out of your day dreaming. Looking up, the only thing in view was the furious stature of your teammate marching towards you. Not the crash of the two highly expensive red bull cars. Not the marshals trying to get you over the barrier. Not even the stand of fans all rendered silent by the events. No, all that you eyes were willing to see was your childhood best friend and love of your life (though you had never expressed that) on a murder path.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING, WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING”

Your comment only seemed to make Max even angrier. The second it happened you knew the crash was your fault, but you couldn’t just let him shout at you at by way. As he stalked closer and closer, your original strength vanished. So much so your heart began yo face. You knew Max was capable of a destructive rampage. It was something that you had to witness numerous times. The only difference is that you were never the destination before. Not to say he was never annoyed by you, and especially with the rising tension this season, but never like this. It forced the little girl deep inside of you to be reminded of someone else. A memory that you wished to forget came flooding in.

~ You were staying at Max’s house for what you didn’t know would be the last time. As the two of you sat in his room talking of your latest double podium, a shatter of glass was heard. The second it did you saw the young boys face fall. It wasn’t until the screams were heard you understood why.

The overbearing words of an enraged man echoed though the house. As you looked over at Max, it only confirmed what you suspected. Even at such a much younger age you knew his father wasn’t the nicest man, however this was the first time you saw his true side. As the curiosity got the better of you, you opened Max’s door to go look at the damage. Any attempt he made to stop you were useless as you sat on the stairs staring into the kitchen.

The look on Jos Verstappen’s face was one that you would never forget. It was the look of a crazed, mad man who was willing to kill the next person that dared to even breath next to him.

As you turned to Max, he was meet with your face in tears. The sight hurt more than any words or actions Jos could ever use. He comforted you, took you back to his room and listened as you shook in fear of his father. In that moment Max held your face, looked you dead in the eyes and promised to you and himself that he would never become the monster that scares the girl he cared for the most. ~

As Max finally towered in front of you, he was shook at what he found. Up until now, you would always stand you ground in an argument. Not even recently when it had began to apply pressure to your friendship had you backed down. However he didn’t see the strong women he had grown to love, but instead a weaker shadow of you in tears. To add to the pitiful scene you stood with your arms up in a form of protection.

Max’s original anger at the race ending collision was all but there. His championship dominating attitude faded and all that was left was regret. It didn’t take long for him to put two and two together, and figure out that you state was due to his behaviour. The only time he had seen you like that before was your last ever sleepover. He also couldn’t ignore how much you had brought up the comparison between the father and son in arguments lately. This all however, was long enough for you to turn and run over to the marshals.

Red bulls number one driver was left by what maybe the resting place of his one true friendship. The very scene that you had just escaped. It had all gotten too much. This was the final straw. Much as Spain was labelled the death of Hamilton and Rosberg’s seemingly ever lasting connection, this would be yours and Max’s. Formula 1 had told the world that no compassion survives between rival teammates before, and it was trying to remind it once again.

The walk to the garage was the longest of your carrier. It wasn’t just because of the looming wrath of Christian Horner but overwhelming more due to that which loomed behind you. Max’s constant presence only made the whole situation worse. He was the years of memories that were still trying to cling on desperately. The dread that it had all gotten too much, and things between the two bulls would never be the same. The crushing wait of a heart beginning to crack at what it had been waiting for for over a decade fading out of view.

Finally getting back to the garage, the next hours flashed by. Your mind was too stimulated with stress and anxiety to process any going on. The one thing that got through was the repeating phrase…

“This is it”

Every warning was right. There was no way that you could beat fate. In the history of the world, no friendship has survived the pressure of true competition. Why did you think you would defeat it? Looking back at the day you two agreed to be teammates, you realise just how naive you were. No not naive, you were foolish and arrogant and stupid. You thought you could win a game against destiny, and now you would face the consequences. It was all o…

“Hey, it’s me, can I come in?”

There it is once again that painfully familiar voice broke your train of thought.

“Yeah sure”

In all honestly you don’t know why you say yes, he is the last person you wish to see right now. The reaction must have been a force of habit. As Max enters the medically room, you are both hit with the true weight of it all. He looks down at your stomach, whose scars from the twenty stitches you had had years a ago were visible. They were from a fishing accident, on a fishing trip the two of you went on. Max’s eyes softened looking at them, the memory coming back like one in the million others in the last feed hours. As you both looked up it was obvious you had both been crying.

This shocked you entirely yet not at all. The world’s young champion Verstappen wasn’t one for crying, and he was the one that you had hit the breaks on too soon causing all this mess. However, you knew that your maxie was a big crier. He cares so much about so much, but has the idiotic tendency to bottle it all up till it got too much and explodes.

That’s exactly what the both of you had done and you both know it. Neither wants to admit that the stress of the rivalry was becoming too much however. Admitting would be admitting you were losing, and the one thing your friendship was built on was not being allowed to lose. The consequence of this silence was hostility. Both of you had become more argumentative. It started small, slowly growing to a seeming hatred that all boiled over in todays race. Now both of you are placed in the medical room, red eyes not wanting to say the first words.

The question of wether you would fight past this and back to the childhoods friends, possibly more or if it truly was the end. You’re hearts are simultaneously asking, are we out of the woods yet?

Woooooo, well that was painful. Sorry not sorry. If you have read this I would appreciate it greatly if you would like and please do comment with feed back. Especially if you would like a prequel or sequel to this. Once again this was my first ever fic so probably wasn’t fantastic but I definitely enjoyed it. Thanks for reading !!! Please don’t copy this, not even with credit. Also no translations. Do feel free to reblog.

#fanfic #max verstappen #f1 imagine #formula 1 #x reader #female reader #max verstappen x reader #angst #im hurtin #formula one #red bull formula 1 #red bull racing #team mates #teammates #fanfics #f1 drivers #out of the woods #taylor swift #lyrics

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phoenix-of-jade · 6 months

Note

In honor of SPOTIFY WRAPPED, send me a number 1-100 and I’ll write you a starter based on the song.

Song number 12: Love the way it hurts by Cloudy June

Oh, your demons match my ghosts

Twin spirits... That was the conclusion the raven haired had came to after listening to Minjun's story about his past and the unfortunate love story he'd gone through. It was interesting how two seemingly completely different people, with completely different backgrounds, could share soo much in common, from a complicated family background characterized by messy games of power and the iron fist of parental authority, to the tragedy of losing their first loves in an unfortunate turn of events that would make said people haunt them to this day (even if the circumstances were different for each one of them, as well as the nature of the "haunting").

I'm sad as fuck you know

When Minjun told him that he couldn't let go of Joowan because he was his very first ever love, the information kind of struck a sensitive chord buried deep within Xuan's heart and soul. He could relate in a way with the lawyer's pain and struggles with moving on, because he too was haunted by a similar ghost: while he didn't lie about Cheng being some sort of 'ex', the man wasn't Xuan's only friend he'd ever gotten involved with in a seemingly romantical way.

The two had another friend with whom they both were very close, a boy named Xia, and while Xuan didn't love Cheng in a romantic manner, he did bear this kind of feelings for this boy; feelings he was too young back then to be able to fully understand what they were or what they meant, but which made Xia be the closest thing to an actual crush Xuan had ever experienced. Unfortunately, Xuan lost Xia when they were still kids, the young man dying at the ripe age of 13 and leaving the at the time 12 year old Xuan with a grueling sense of survivor's guilt. And to this day, the green eyed man blamed himself for Xia's death even if it wasn't his direct doing, living under the impression that anyone he'd grow to love ever again would end up suffering a similar fate, which made Xuan swear that he'll never love again.

You can always make it worse

Yet, cut to the present, and the time spent in the company of this stunning and clever lawyer made Xuan feel a kind of tingle he hadn't felt in literal years, something he never thought would be possible ever again. That strong feeling of compassion and empathy he felt for Minjun, paired with his respect for this handsome man's strong will and determination, had made Xuan develop a keen liking for his new business associate. In other words, he was starting to develop a new crush. But was he ready to accept this kind of feelings in his life? Was Xuan ready to allow himself to love again and welcome this still unknown feeling to nestle into his stone cold heart?

Baby I need you I need your claws on my neck I need your bitter red wine lips and dirty regrets I need your hunger Feels like you're tying me up I'm begging you for your love Begging you for your love

Before he realized it, Xuan had already started to slowly fantasize about him and his lawyer, and that did not include the business framework in the slightest! He couldn't take his mind off of Minjun's charming smile, his charismatic voice and the way his pretty lips looked soo kissable! It was strange feeling like this for someone so suddenly after he hadn't ever caught any semblance of such cravings for anyone else in literal years, not even for Cheng, with whom he had an intimate relationship after all...

Maybe it was the fact that Minjun kind of reminded him of Xia, in a way? It was true, he had black hair and brown eyes like his long departed friend, but so did many other people he'd interacted with in the past and he hadn't developed any displays of lust like this for them. Or maybe it was Minjun's charisma and very kind and selfless nature that reminded him of the young man? Xuan didn't know, but it frustrated him nevertheless. He wanted something from Minjun, that he could tell, but what exactly that something was, heck if even he knew!

Interesting enough was that the lawyer seemed to be interested in him too, or that's what Xuan thought from watching him closely during their conversations. It was bad! This only served to fuel those weird feelings and desires he was having even further! Should he even try to initiate something...?

Xuan shook his head in frustration, sighing and leant back into the chair, staring at the ceiling. Was it even worth it? What if he tries to initiate something romantic with him and Minjun rejects him? Not only would he end up hurt (especially his pride and ego), but that would also risk ruining their business relationship as well...

The raven haired heaved a deep sigh, wondering why things had to be soo complicated? And even if let's say, Minjun were to actually return these feelings of attraction, there was still the issue of his stalker ex boyfriend... Xuan furrowed his eyebrows remembering about what Minjun had told him: Joowan was a murderer and if he'd deem Xuan as competition, he might attempt 'eliminating' him the best way murderers know...

But how can I make me not want you now? Can I make me not go to your house?

But when was he ever afraid of death to begin with? Xuan let out a self-ironic snort. The idea sounded soo stupid in comparison to his lifestyle: he was dealing with the threat of death on a daily, such was the life of a powerful mob leader such as himself. So what was one more assassination threat on top of the already long list looming over his head? Xuan wasn't a scarredy cat. He'd never fret in the face of danger and that wasn't something that would change now. If he wanted Minjun, he could've as well gone for it! Xuan wasn't going to let anyone get in his way and if worse came to worse, he was sure that at least he could rid the lawyer of this annoying pain in the ass.

Baby I crave you I crave your taste in the night (...) And it's rushing from my feet to the back of my head

That thought in mind, Xuan smirked to himself a sinister smile. Yeah, he wasn't going to back down and give up that easily! When he wanted something, he was the type of man that wouldn't refrain from doing almost anything to get that something and if that bastard was even going to think to stand between him and Minjun, Xuan was going to show Joowan what it meant challenging the Green Eyed Death himself.

So yeah, he was going to actually go to Minjun house tonight and finally do what he's been craving to do for quite a while now. Once that decision set, there wasn't turning Xuan back from it and he was going to make sure that nothing, and really nothing, would stand between him and his goal! Those were the very thoughts traversing Xuan's mind as he stared at the shiny revolver glistening in the dim light of the study, before placing it in its holster, concealed nicely underneath his shirt and pants at his back.

Oh, your demons match my ghosts I'm sad as fuck you know You can always make it worse But I love the way it Hurts and maybe that's my curse Come and drag me through the dirt You can always make it worse But I love the way it hurts It hurts It hurts But I love the way it hurts It hurts Oh it hurts

Indeed, they were twin spirits attracting one another and for that reason they should have been together... Xuan wan't one to give up without a fight and even if this would've ended up hurting him in any shape or form, he was more than willing to take that pain. After all, wasn't he the type who liked a little bit of pain anyways?

Cheeky grin played at the corners of his lips and his emerald eyes shined with the glow of a hungry predator ready to go after its pray, as the raven haired exited the office. Let the hunt of the night begin!

#xuan interactions #seoulxsinners #Xuan x Minjun #precious lawyer #v1: main

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wof-reworked · 5 months

Note

dragon religion is an idea i think that is rlly awesome. i hope tui goes over it in the guide, anyway. if u have any specific religion ideas / hcs for dragons.. would they have jobs ?? like dragon priests orrrr idk tbh. sorry if this question is annoying im obsessed w the idea of dragons having religion and religion-based jobs

Originally I had like. a whole "series" of like. ideas for each tribe's religion and mythology, but in the interest of actually replying I'll do like. quick bullet points here and I'll try to fill in more later on ^^;;.

I have like. a lot of abstract feelings n concepts because I've always found it interesting how,,, little religion there is in wof at all. There's barely even really "magic", with only really animuses. wof's characters are occasionally superstitious, but all their superstition is based in like- historical events, like Darkstalker or Queen Oasis's murder, and not like. magic. so I want to keep some of that true because I think it's really fitting for a setting of dragons (who have historically usually *been* the gods, rather than the worshippers !!!) and it's also a rare opportunity to like. get into society without religion (this is a hostile zone for the great ice dragon, I'm sorry I Do Not Care About You and your One Off Mention, God Bless)

ANYWAY. Posting this under the cut bc it's kind of massive, read at ur own risk lol (cw for talk of death/funeral rites but that's really it)

Skywings:

Skywings for me have always been the clearest as like. focusing on historic figures as "saints" (though ik that's a pretty christian concept and word, just hang in there I prommy it goes places)

Point being- I've written about it before here, but for Skywings, the sky is alive and holy in its own right. They view it as the foundation of life and believe themselves (and all dragons, though the other tribes abandoned their way of living) as children of it, originally like birds.

It has some slight. monarchist overtures to it with how the sky itself is like an omnipresent parent, and its moods and shifting currents can be seen as a reflection of Skywing culture. When the sky is angry and casting out its children, there is a lesson that needs to be learned, and it is the collective punishment of all Skywings until the problem is fixed.

But past that, Skywings who achieve remarkable things can be recognized as local guardians and figures of protection- when Skywings die, they return to the sky in the form of clouds. Some Skywings also believe birds to be reincarnated Skywings, especially the spirits of those who rebuke the sky and strike off on their own (which is not an inherently bad thing, but a symbol of independence in its most neutral)

Some Skywing patrons I was thinking of were: the patron of duty- the first Skywing soldier, the patron of children/joy- the first kitemaker, the patron of guardians/parents- the lamplighter, and the patron of Skywing excellence/patriotism- the stormchaser.

Miners who die in Skywing tunnels also achieve something akin to a martyr status- spirits of those who bravely sacrificed their time in the sky to keep the caverns safe and protect those who would follow them. Not one patron, but the collective protection of spirits trapped underneath the ground

Sandwings

Sandwings are similar, but different: where Skywings have patrons who have been given a certain holy power, Sandwings have two kinds of spirits: the family spirits and folk heroes

I swear to god I wrote a Sandwing headcanon post, but I genuinely can't find it at all I don't know where it went. FOUND IT WHILE LOOKING FOR MY ICEWINGS POSTS. READ IT HERE. anyway tho starting with house/family spirits: Sandwings tend towards multigenerational homes, moreso than many other tribes, and remembering your family becomes increasingly important when there's so many of you

Most Sandwing houses keep a small shrine or altar for their dead relatives and their family history- some households have patron animals or spirits that they invoke for a little extra boost of fortune but these aren't like family crests as much as your family's,,, collective mythos

The Sandwing creation myth involves the First Sandwing tricking each animal into giving them a piece of themselves- the stinger and venom from scorpions, the quickness and wit of jackals, the resilience and scales of the lizards, and finally just snatching the wings and size from dragonbite vipers who used to rule the desert, who were reduced to their small snake status and have hated every Sandwing since. So if you want to pay special homage to your family being intelligent, the jackal might be your patron

This creation myth varies WILDLY- it can include many different animals or different exact retellings on what the original Sandwing tricked the animals into giving them, so patrons can vary and can be very house-specific

(I have a little draft, somewhere, of Thorn teaching Qibli her family history post-adoption/rescue and it being one of the moments that Qibli really starts to view her as family and not just the next Cobra)

Sandwing folk heroes are also super varied- I subscribe to Sandwings having a heavy oral storytelling tradition and general,,, art culture, so I'm not gonna write every single possible story you could tell with Sandwing folk heroes, but most of them embody those original Sandwing virtues- resilience, intelligence, and quick adaptability to come out on top

Mudwings

Mudwings already have their own dedicated post !!! yippeeeeee !!!! you can read it right over here :>

Mudwings are also big big oral storytellers but unlike Sandwings the gods are a more active part of these stories and the focus is rarely on individual Mudwings as much as the dynamics of the gods' dynamic as a sibling troupe.

Rarely,,, "worshipped" in the way Skywings will venerate their patrons or Sandwings will maintain their shrines, but passively appealed to and celebrated as like. the broadest encapsulation of what it is to be a Mudwing- the way they're moved by the seasons and their families moreso than anything else

Icewings

I wrote more lists originally about Icewing superstitions, which are right here, and I stand by basically all of that. I don't really know how to incorporate gods into that but I think a lot of Icewing superstition is just. vague cultural paranoia about Things Out There

Icewings have the strongest death beliefs/rituals out of any of the tribes imo- Icewing bodies need to be properly buried or the souls don't get to return to the soil, and become stuck on the ice.

Icewing funerals depend on if you live inland or on the coast- burials at sea are common for Icewings on the coast to allow the body to be taken by the water and allowed to disperse that way (though only when the ice isn't frozen over, as otherwise it may become trapped), and Icewings inland prefer open-air/sky burials that allow the body to decompose in nature.

Winter deaths are seen as bad luck, and are given extra caution and work (which also ties into Winter's role as a black sheep in the family- it's a bit of a dark name to give your child, especially as the youngest/least wanted heir of the family)

Great Ice Dragon,,,, I have no ideas for, I imagine just the source of all Icewings and their father who ensures that, despite it all, they can survive.

Seawings

least religious lets goooooooo

Seawings are just. straight up vibing. They're the most down to earth about being alive in the sense they're just animals like everything else (though they still have their own mixed feelings about dolphins from canon)

Seawings do put a lot of stock into destiny and fate though- almost as much as Nightwings, and they have a healthy stargazing culture and track the changing of seasons and time through the stars more than anything else.

Some Seawings think of themselves as fallen stars- scales still glowing from their core of starlight. Seawings who die return to the sky and come back in the form of comets, it's especially good luck to be born under a meteor shower.

Another common superstition is a Seawing's personal star- this can be as serious as knowing exactly where it is in the sky, or as lax as pointing to one and declaring it yours. This is the star that determins your destiny and is your personal guardian, you can look to it for good luck (plus if you pick right it can be a neat way to teach your children how to navigate).

Seawings LOVE tall-tales though. Almost everyone has a story of the time they 10000% saw A Sea Monster or a dolphin spoke to them in riddles, etc etc. Half the words out of a Seawing sailor's mouth are lies, and the other half are exagerrated beyond all reason (except of course,,, for the ones that are true)

This drives other tribes insane btw, especially the more devout ones like Skywings and Icewings. How are you going to make that shit up every time pls be serious for one moment (never)

Nightwings

The other least religious, but this time for complicated cultural reasons of. well. volcano.

Nightwings love science until they don't, essentially. Everything has a reason except the things we don't understand which are mysteries from beyond the pale that we just have to hope will one day become clear.

TL;DR: SO MANY GHOSTS. EVERYTHING IS HAUNTED.

Nightwings are like the closest to a lot of real world agnosticism- it could be real, but we just don't know yet. Lots of ghost sightings though and subtle signals from the universe. It's a bit of a collective coping mechanism for the loss of their powers + the amount of dragons, like Fatespeaker, who were born under the full moons but without a clear sky and thus only left with confusing powers.

(slaps the side of the canon Nightwing art) These bad boys can fit so much victorian ghost fear in them <3

Mastermind has and 100% would again drink absinthe to perform a seance to Nightwing seers of the past, prove me wrong

I think in older Nightwing mythology, there would have been lots of smaller gods and domains- complicated webs of connected esoteric spirits who each vied for power over the material world through their domains and contact with dragons.

The heart of it all is the Moons though- the three sisters of chance/luck, destiny/death, and soul. Something akin to the three fates but each in collaboration with each other over life.

In ye really olden days, some sects thought these spirits worked through scavengers. These guys are pretty broadly considered a strange cult though, and the history is scant at best.

Clearsight and Darkstalker would've grown up aware of these gods but given special privilege due to their powers- mostly as people exempt from the gods due to their connection to the moons as something surpassing the petty whims of spirits. Priests and priestesses would be preferred as powerless, as a clear head is needed to communicate with the gods fully.

Rainwings

Souls !! lots of souls !! Rainwings believe everything has a beating pulse and could be slash is alive in their own unique way.

The Rainwing gods are serpents- wingless but capable of moving through the trees as though they were flying, their scales a constant mass of brilliant colors. Names and identities are a WIP for me, bear with me as I flesh out these guys ;U;

Rainwings are big storytellers as well, and tend to create their own ideas and religions, in a sense. Being a puppeteer and performer especially is the closest to being a priest that a Rainwing can get- by embodying other things you are essentially changing your soul to align with them

Rainwings also aren't. super religious as much as just committed each to their own truth over a collective myth or story. Each Rainwing builds their own unique sense of mythology from the rainforest.

No gods no masters only fruit >:3c

I have some wips for each of these, some of them fics, some of them elaborations and continued myths, but I hope y'all enjoy them !!! All feedback welcome, as always.

#wof reworked #wof headcanons #wings of fire #wof #sunny speaks #skywings wof #icewings wof #nightwings wof #mudwings wof #seawings wof #sandwings wof #rainwings wof

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eddievanhammettmunson · 1 year

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Eddie Valentine.

Eddie Munson x plus size female reader

Authors note- okay ghouls, goblins, and fellow gremlins this may be a very self indulgent fic of me working through my hatred for Valentine’s Day and it may or may not be somewhat based on true events on things that have happened in life so let’s just go with it <3

Warnings- mentions of bullying, swearing, fluff, smut. Oral f receiving. Protected p in v. Wrap it before you tap it ghouls

Summary- for Eddie’s first Valentine’s Day with his girlfriend he wants to make it as sappy romantic and special as possible. Until he finds out she hates Valentine’s Day. 4.8k words

February 14th. The day for couples to show their love for each other, the day Arizona was accepted as a state, and the day of the Saint Valentine’s Day massacre. Whoever you are wherever you are there’s something to do on this day.

Eddie Munson had the day marked on his calendar for weeks and he was all too excited for it. Valentine’s Day was tomorrow and he was determined to make it special. Being the freak of the town meant that Eddie had never truly celebrated Valentine’s Day with someone special before. Hell even in elementary school when kids would pass out candy and cards to the whole class, Eddie was always somehow left out or forgotten. That was until he met you.

You two had started going out within the last year and this is your first Valentine’s Day together. He was nervous to say the least but mostly just excited to have a day where he gets to show all his love for you.

Eddie sat at the head of the lunch table lost in thought daydreaming about his girlfriend and how special he wanted Valentine’s Day to be for her. Valentine’s Day was on a Tuesday this year which meant they’d both be spending the day at school but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to make it special. He sat there thinking about the gift he had gotten you and the candy he knew you’d love. In the morning he’d pick you up some of her favourite flowers.

He’d been so lost in thought that the rest of the hellfire table was now sitting around wondering why the dungeon master wasn’t being his usual self. He felt the eyes of the table on him and finally looked up to see their faces.

“What?”

“What do you mean “what” Eddie we’ve been here for like 5 minutes and you haven’t said a single word” Jeff said in a confused tone as he bit into his sandwich.

“Sorry, I was just thinking. Hey Jeff, where's y/n?”

“Last period she said she had to drop a book off at the library so she’d be late to lunch.”

“Well while I have you guys to myself for a second can I run a couple ideas for Valentine’s Day by you guys?”

“Seriously man, you're worried about Valentine’s Day? I thought you’d be more concerned with our next campaign?”

Eddie threw a pretzel at Gareth

“It’s our first Valentine’s Day together and I want to make it special.”

Dustin raised a hand to interject “Eddie we’re sure whatever you have planned she’s gonna love because she loves you and it’ll be special because it’s you two.”

Eddie opened his mouth to speak again but quickly closed it and snapped his head around to the other side of the table next to him where you had suddenly appeared and pulled the chair out to sit down.

“What’s gonna be special?” You asked as you made yourself comfortable.

Eddie didn’t say anything as you looked at him so you looked back to Dustin.

“Valentine’s Day of course!” Dustin said with a megawatt smile.

As soon as he said it your entire body tensed and you grew quiet. The smile slipping from your face.

Eddie however didn’t notice this as he threw a pretzel matched with a death glare at Dustin. Eddie began to speak quietly before looking at you.

“Yeah sweets since it’s our first Valentine’s Day together I was thinking I could pick you up for school and then immediately after we can go on a date”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked down at your hands in your lap instead of facing Eddie.

“I’m not coming to school tomorrow. Sorry Ed’s.”

You stood up fast from the table. “I think I left something in the library. I’ll see you guys later.”

You were gone from the cafeteria before Eddie could catch you but honestly he hadn’t even tried to.

He was too stunned. You’d never rejected him for a date without reason before and you’d especially never rushed out of a room like that before. What confused him even more is why you wouldn’t be at school on a Tuesday. You were a great student and he’s never seen you miss a day of school. But to reject him for Valentine’s Day plans? Had he done something wrong? Eddie's mind was racing a million miles a minute.

He stood from the hellfire table and made his way out of the cafeteria and to the library. Only when he got to the library you were nowhere to be found. He made his way out to the parking lot to see if you’d gone to get something from your car only to find your car missing entirely.

***

As you sat in your car on the way home you couldn’t help but feel guilty for what you’d done to Eddie. You knew he meant well but honestly since he hadn’t mentioned it at all recently you were hoping he’d forgotten about Valentine’s Day altogether or maybe didn’t want to celebrate it.

You knew you should have just told him the truth of why you didn’t like Valentine’s Day and why you wouldn’t go to school but deep down there was a part of you that thought he’d be angry with you for being upset over something so stupid that happened so long ago. Yet you continued driving home.

Once you got home you ran straight to your room and shut the door. Collapsing on the bed and running your hands over your face from exhaustion.

Later in the day you’d gotten multiple phone calls from who you were assuming was Eddie but you did nothing but lay in bed and watch the time pass. Hoping you would wake up and it would be Wednesday and everything could just go back to normal.

***

Back at Eddie’s trailer he was absolutely losing his mind wondering what on earth he could have done wrong to screw this up so badly. But he was determined he wasn’t going to let this day go to waste and he certainly wasn’t going to lose you on Valentine’s Day of all days.

The later it got the more defeated he felt when you didn’t answer any of his calls. He flopped down on the couch and threw his head back and groaned. He looked over at the clock that read 12:53 am and he decided fuck it.

He went to his room and grabbed his leather jacket and the gifts he’d gotten you for Valentine’s Day and then his keys and rushed out the door.

***

You were sound asleep in bed when a brutal tapping began to work its way into your dream, eventually waking you from that dream when you realised the tapping was real. You looked over at your clock that read 1:15 am and then you turned to find the source of the noise.

As you turn towards your window you can see Eddie standing outside as he knocks his rings against the glass. You sigh and stand up from your bed walking over to the window and sliding it open.

“Eddie, what are you doing here? It’s 1 in the morning!”

“Well when my girlfriend rejects me and runs off and stops answering my phone calls I get a little concerned sweetheart” he said with a sort of lopsided smile to where you could tell he’s a little hurt.

You move out of the way and he crawls into your room and you can’t help but notice the bag of items he has with him.

“Eddie please can we not do this? Everything will be back to normal on Wednesday I promise.”

Eddie dropped the bag of items gently on the floor of your room and stepped closer to you.

“Sweetheart what is going on? Please just talk to me. I want to spend Valentine’s Day with my girlfriend and I can’t help but feel like you don’t want that?”

You sighed and stepped away from him, walking back towards your bed and sitting on the edge of it. You pull your knees up to your chest and hug yourself.

“It has nothing to do with you Eddie I swear. I just hate Valentine’s Day is all.”

Eddie walked towards you at the edge of the bed and sat beside you.

“Why do you hate Valentine’s Day?”

Sighing you begin to fiddle with the end of the shirt you’re wearing as you begin to tell your tale.

“As a kid I got bullied a lot for being fat and nerdy Eddie. But when I got to middle school boys were ruthless. They’d pretend to ask me out and then laugh in my face and then run off to tell their friends and I’d sit there watching them all laugh at me. Then one year on Valentine’s Day my school did this event where you could buy time on the morning announcements to send a love note to somebody. Only the guy I liked at the time was very popular and apparently knew that I liked him. So he had bribed a few of his friends on the morning announcements to read a humiliating statement about me in front of the whole school and I got laughed at. Even by teachers. I tried not to let it get to me but then the next year for Valentine’s Day I got a candy gram which had a note of someone confessing that they liked me on it and as soon as I read it and smiled a group of boys laughed at me and told me it was fake. I couldn’t take being the butt of the joke every year on Valentine’s Day so I just stopped celebrating it and showing up for school on that day. The public humiliation just isn’t worth it.”

You didn’t look at Eddie but you could feel as he grabbed your hand and rubbed soothing circles on the back with his thumb. He used his other hand and brought it to your face as he gently guided you to look at him.

Once you finally forced your eyes to look at his you could see the tears brimming in his eyes. He brought you closer and laid the most gentle kiss possible on your forehead.

“Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. You didn’t deserve that. But I just want you to know you can talk to me about this. I’m the town freak, remember. Valentine’s Day has never been very great for me either. I’ll say it's not as bad as yours but still.”

You knew he was right. And you began to sniffle a little bit as you fought and lost to hold back your tears but Eddie’s fingers were there to wipe them away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner Eddie it’s just- well it’s just something I don’t like to talk about or think of often.”

“If it’s alright with you sweetheart I’d really like a chance to make Valentine’s Day special for you. If you’ll let me.”

You nodded your head yes and he gave you another kiss on the forehead.

“Okay sweetheart. How about we go to sleep and when we wake up we can spend the whole day together. We’ll both skip school and then we can do whatever you want.”

“That sounds really nice Eddie.”

The two of you got comfortable in bed and drifted off. Staying asleep well into the day.

When the two of you wake up the sun is streaming through your room and you can feel Eddie’s arms wrapped tightly around you holding you against him.

“Morning sweetheart” he whispers in a husky morning voice and you can’t help but feel slightly aroused upon hearing it.

“I’m pretty sure it’s past noon Ed’s” you say in a slight giggle as you pull yourself from his arms and swing your feet over the edge of the bed.

“So sweetheart what’s on the agenda for today?” Eddie asks as he rolls over in your bed.

“How about we spend the day here and make it special? I was thinking we could go downstairs and bake some cupcakes then we can watch a movie?”

He smiles over at you and gets out of bed.

“You had me at cupcakes babe.”

The two of you go downstairs into the kitchen and you pull out the ingredients to bake the cake and you begin.

Of course having to correct when Eddie gets eggshells in the batter and having to take the bowl away when he starts stirring too vigorously and gets batter everywhere but you can’t help but giggle. Eventually you get the cupcakes in the oven and they come out perfect.

As you’re icing the cupcakes together Eddie takes a dollop of frosting onto his finger and swipes it on your nose.

“Ah! Eddie What are you doing!”

You take some frosting on your fingers and smear it across his face and he pulls you into him laughing and kissing the frosting off of your nose before placing a kiss on your lips. You can taste the frosting as you kiss him and you wrap your arms around his neck as you two deepen the kiss.

Eddie leans down as he kisses you and lifts you up in one swift motion as you wrap your legs around his waist as the two of you continue to make out in your kitchen.

After a few minutes of making out you pull away and drop back down to the ground smiling like an idiot. The two of you turn your attention back to the cupcakes and finish icing them.

Once done you each lift up a cupcake but Eddie insists that you two feed each other. As Eddie feeds you your bite you give a nice gentle sigh. As you feed Eddie his he lets out a loud moan that sounds like he just came in his pants and it makes you laugh.

“Good?”

“They’re heaven baby. Heaven. You’re magic.”

“Hey, you helped. If anything were magic together.”

He pulls you into him and kisses you with a mouth full of cupcakes. “Oh we definitely make magic together baby.” He finishes the sentence with a wink.

You slap his arm lightly and begin to clean the kitchen from your cupcake adventure. Once the kitchen is clean you head to the bathroom real quick and tell Eddie to go to your room so the two of you can watch a movie.

Once you walk In the room you see Eddie sat up against the headboard of your bed with a movie already in the VCR on pause. You see the case for the movie sitting on your side table and immediately recognize it as your favourite movie and your heart swells a little bit at just how well he knows you.

You jump into bed next to him and curl into his side as you enjoy the movie. Laughing together and enjoying each others presence. As the movie plays Eddie’s hands rub up and down your spine and every once in awhile he runs his hands gently through your hair and cradles your head. It’s almost like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it but the small touches make you feel so loved. So you hug yourself closer to him.

You guys stay like that for most of the afternoon, just watching movies and cuddling together. Until Eddie declares its present time so he runs to your room where he left the bag of goodies and returns to the living room.

He sits next to you on the couch and watches as you open your gifts.

First is a large bag of your favourite type of candy. Then you open the bag with the main gift and find a little brown Teddy bear with curly fur that’s wearing a little guitar pick necklace. You grab the card that sits beneath the bear and you begin to read it.

“Teddy from your Eddie I love you so much baby. Spending this life with you is all I could ask for and I hope we have many more valentines days together- love your teddy Eddie.”

Eddie begins to worry as he watches your face contort and then he sees the tear running down your face.

“Oh baby what’s wrong? Do you not like it?”

You sniffle again and wipe your nose.

“No! No! Eddie I love it. I love it so much. I just. Well. Nobody’s ever done something this sweet for me before.”

Eddie leans forward and captures you in a hug that you accept. Once the tears stopped falling and you stopped sniffling you pull away from the hug ever so slightly so that you can look at Eddie.

When you look at him and see those big brown eyes staring back at you so lovingly you just can’t hold back as you tackle him back onto the couch in a kiss.

Eddie makes a noise of surprise as he’s pushed back down on the couch and moves to where you two can comfortably make out. As you continue to make out your mind begins to drift onto an idea. A way to repay Eddie for making your day so special and something that would solidify today as a great day for the both of you. Eddie begins to realise you seem lost in thought so he pulls away from the kiss leaving your mouth feeling empty.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours sweets?”

You move to straddle him on the couch and you brush some hair out of his face.

“Well I was just thinkin. Maybe we could…well I wanted to….I was thinking we could maybe take things further today.”

Eddie's face wasn’t what you were expecting. You couldn’t quite read his reaction. He knew what you were asking and it’s not that he didn’t want to. He’s just surprised. You guys had done other stuff like giving each other head or handjobs but you guys had never done that.

Gradually a smile appears on Eddie’s face and your nerves begin to dissipate.

“Well sweetheart if that’s what you really want I think we can make that happen.”

He grabs your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours before he moves and stands from the couch with you. He guides you back to your room and closes the door.

Once he closes the door he turns to see you in the middle of the room undressing yourself and he just can’t have that.

“Nuh uh sweetheart hands up.”

“What?”

“Hands up sweetheart. That’s my job.”

You drop your hands to your sides. And wait as Eddie approaches you from across the room. When he gets to you he puts his hands on your waist and trails them down to the hem of your shirt before he ever so slowly lifts it up your body and fully removes the garment. Next he moves to your pants. He looks at you and raises a brow just to ask for confirmation. You give him a nod and he slides the pants down your legs. Getting close to the floor he lifts each leg in his hands and slips the pants fully off your body and discards them.

He returns to his full height towering above you as he slowly strips himself down to his boxers. Once you’re both standing there in nothing but your underwear he moves forward and kisses you as he guides you to the bed to lay down.

As you lay down on the bed you pull him to fall on top of you and he groans as you spread your legs for him to lay between and the two of you make out and begin to grind on each other.

Having so few layers between the two of you was making you even wetter. Feeling his growing erection rubbing between your folds was making you lose your mind as you two whine and moan into each other's mouths until Eddie begins to trail kisses down your neck to your torso. He gets to your bra and looks up at you for confirmation and when you nod he slips it off your body and throws it off the bed. Eddie then massages your left breast with his hands as he takes your right breast into his mouth causing a loud moan to slip past your lips. He then alternates between the two until your nipples are so hard they could cut glass.

Once he’s satisfied with his work on your breasts and can feel that you’ve soaked through your panties he travels lower and leaves kisses along your hips and stops at the waistband of your panties.

He looks up at your already fucked out expression. “Sweets look at me real quick”

You look down at him between your legs.

“I’m gonna eat you out to get you ready first okay baby. Give me an orgasm and I’ll give you what you want okay baby?”

You nod your head yes.

“Come on sweetheart I know you can give me words.”

“Yes Eddie.”

He grabs hold of your hips and takes your panties between his fingers and slides them down and off your legs. He then settles back on the bed and spreads your legs. Settling them over his shoulders. He makes himself comfortable (With ample room to grind into the mattress) and dives in.

He starts by wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently just to get you going before upping the pace. The more you moan the better he knows he is doing. He knows your body almost as well as you do at this point so he knows what you really want. He moves his fingers up and down your lips and parts them before dipping one finger in your entrance. But he knows it’s not enough for you. Yet he takes it slow and moves his lone finger in and out a few times listening to your little gasps before he pushes in that second finger. Two fingers is as much as you two have used together before. But Eddie knows he has to prepare you for what’s to come.

He lifts his head up for a moment. “Baby I’m gonna use another finger to get you ready for me okay. You want me to stop or if anything feels uncomfortable you tell me okay?”

“O-okay Eddie.”

He goes back to sucking your clit and moving his two fingers in and out until he feels that you’re ready for a third. When he adds the third finger he hears you wince a little and he slows down.

You feel his fingers deep within you pumping in and out. After the stretch of the third finger you’re hungering for more but you promised him and orgasm first so you know he wouldn’t agree to fucking you first. As you lay there and take everything he’s giving you, your body suddenly convulses. Eddie had curled his fingers and found just the right spot. You’re practically seeing stars Every Time he hits that spot.

Eddie meanwhile is in heaven. Grinding on the mattress trying to find some relief for his hard on but he doesn’t care when he can see the way your body is reacting above him. He knows you’re getting close and he wants to push you over the edge.

He uses his free hand to travel up your body and pinch one of your nipples between his fingers as he speeds up the pace of his fingers and his tongue swirling around your clit and your back arches off the bed and your thighs clamped around his head as you cum crying his name.

He works you through your high and then when your thighs release him he moves back up to your face where he places a gentle kiss upon his lips. You open your eyes and look up at him.

“Hi Ed’s.” You say with a dopey smile.

“Hey pretty girl” he says as he moves the hair from your face. He leans down and kisses you again but gasps when he feels your hand wrap around his still clothed cock.

He swallows and looks down at you. “Are you sure about this sweetheart?”

You squeeze him again and say yes. He moves back and slides his boxers off and tosses them off the bed. He then reaches over to your bedside table and grabs the box of condoms that you knew was there but you didn’t know he knew they were there.

You swat his arm. “Eddie!”

“What?” He says with a Cheshire grin.

“You’ve been snooping in my room!”

“I wouldn’t call it snooping sweetheart I was investigating.”

“Oh really? Investigating what? My panties?”

“Exactly.” He leans down and gives you a kiss.

He takes the wrapping off of the condom and slides it down onto his cock. Fisting himself a couple times before leaning back down and grinding against your wet form.

You spread your legs a little further and he settles between your legs. He rests both his arms next to your head bracing himself and looking into your eyes before he pushes just the mushroom tip into your entrance. You gasp and reach for him grabbing onto him for dear life the further he pushes in.

“Geez Ed’s shoulda used 4 fingers. Maybe 5 Jesus Christ.”

He laughs and kisses your forehead before bottoming out. Once he’s bottomed out he rests there and gives you a moment.m to adjust and gather yourself before you nod. He pulls out almost completely and pushes back in. The force of it makes you gasp like all the air has been knocked out of your lungs.

The pleasure of it is intense but you know it could be better.

“Harder Ed’s. Harder.”

He snaps his hips a bit rougher and changes the angle and he knows he’s found that spot again when you whine fairly loud and he feels you gush wetness around his cock. He keeps snapping his hips at that pace and he looks down at you to study your face and finds your eyes closed. Suddenly everything stops. You whine very loud and open your eyes to look up at him.

“Keep your eyes open for me sweetheart.”

He kisses your forehead again and starts up with his unrelenting pace. Your moans and whines are getting louder and louder.

You push on his ribs and flip the two of you over with him still inside you. This takes Eddie by surprise but he’s not complaining in the slightest. He watches you adjust yourself and find your pace as you begin bouncing on his cock.

As he watches your lovely tits bounce in his face and the way you squeeze around his cock so perfectly he knows he won’t last much longer but he wants you to come with him. He snakes a hand down between the two of you and finds your clit and begins to move in figures around your clit in the way he knows you’ll like. He begins fucking up into you so the even more ferver.

He moves his face to your breast where he begins sucking hickies onto your sensitive breasts. He takes your nipples into his mouth and massages your other breasts with his free hand.

Just like that you’re coming undone on top of him crying his name into his neck and hanging onto him for dear life. It doesn’t take long after that for Eddie to give a few final thrusts before he’s spilling himself into the condom and whining your name into your ears.

He lifts you off of him gently and places you onto the bed and gives you a kiss on the forehead. He then stands up and puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom and disposes of the condom before grabbing a towel and heading back to the bed where he wipes between your legs and then crawls back into bed next to you.

You’re looking up at him with the most lovestruck eyes you could possibly muster and Eddie feels like his heart is going to explode.

“Happy Valentine’s Day sweetheart.”

“Thank you Eddie. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

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footprintsinthesxnd · 7 months

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The Good Die Young

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of graphic themes, war, injury, weapons, sexual images, language, 18+, swearing, major character death. Pairings: Jake Seresin × f!reader. Disclaimer: This is a series reflecting on the true events of the US Marines in WW2. All of the characters are fictional and not based off are original characters (except for Jake Seresin) and they are not representations of the real, brave men who fought in WW2. I have tried to make all the events in this series as accurate as possible but please bear in mind this is fanfiction and i have added/ changed certain things to fit with this.

Massive thank you to everyone you followed this story for start to finish. It has been an honour and a privilege to write. Huge thank you to @desert-fern for listening to my endless rants about this series and I’m sorry for breaking your heart multiple times. I hope you can forgive me.

New Jersey July 1946

Y/n’s fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel of Frank’s car as she pulled into the cemetery car park. Frank and Fern had invited her to New Jersey to stay with them, while Y/n sorted out her new life in the States. She had moved with Fern shortly after the end of the war and while Fern already had a house with Frank, Y/n was still looking for somewhere permanent for her and her son Jacob to live.

The cemetery car park was empty, except for a few cars parked on the far side. Y/n couldn’t quite bring herself to get out of the car, her eyes traveling over the neatly placed rows of pale ivory crosses. They seemed to go on for miles, as far as the eye could see and seemed a stark contrast to the brightly coloured lives of the young men they represented.

Frank had arranged after the war for all of his friends' bodies to be repatriated back to the states and placed together in the same cemetery. ‘They deserve to stay together’ he had told Y//n when he’d first explained what he had arranged. Y/n liked the idea that Jake was alongside Edward and Johnny and that Frank didn’t live too far away. Y/n had been devastated to receive the news of Edward’s death so soon after Jake’s. It felt as though she hadn’t just lost Jake but she was gradually losing all of them. George and Edwards's hospital ship had been hit by Japanese pilots whilst being transported back to the mainland. George survived the disaster, unfortunately losing both his legs but Edward hadn’t stood a chance. The faces of the four young men filled Y/n's mind as she unstrapped Jacob’s car seat and lifted her two-year-old son into her arms.

Y/n’s heart felt heavy as she followed the white crossed rows, the names of each one etching her memory, their ages scrawled across her heart; 18 years, 21 years, 24 years… so many lives cut short. It was at the end of the row that she noticed some familiar names ‘Johnathan ‘Shorty’ Carter’, ‘Edward ‘Mary’ Hughes’, ‘Jacob ‘Cowboy’ Seresin’. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh that Frank had included all their nicknames. Each cross was beautifully clean, each one had fresh flowers placed at the base and a picture of the soldier smiling happily in their Marine dress blues. Y/n had never seen that photo of Jake before. She dug into her handbag and pulled out the drawing of Daphne that she had kept since Jake sent it to her. She placed it carefully in its frame in front of Johnny’s cross. “You’re right, Johnny. She really was a beauty.”

She smiled sadly as she unclasped the chain from her neck and hung it over Jake’s cross, her engagement ring hanging loosely down the ivory stone. Y/n sat down before his grave, her little boy in her lap, running her fingers over his headstone and something within her broke. She let out a silent sob, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably as tears began to flow freely. Jacob just sat quietly in his mother's lap, playing with a blade of grass he had picked, seemingly unaware of the devastation before him. Y/n was pleased really that he would never know the heartbreak the world had suffered over the last 6 years.

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” she cried. “I miss you so much.” She cried for what felt like hours, all the grief that she had bottled up for all those months ,while raising her son, finally escaped through the cracks of her broken heart.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind her caused Y/n to turn, rubbing her hands over her cheeks, no longer concerned whether her makeup was smudged.

“Excuse me, Miss, do you mind if I lay some flowers here?” The young man was standing on crutches, the lower half of his left leg was no longer there and in its place, he’d tied his trouser leg into a knot. He leaned forward as much as he could, gesturing towards Jake’s grave.

“Of course,” Y/n pulled herself to her feet, moving little Jacob to stand next to her. “Please.” She helped the young man move forward to lay his flowers beside her own before he stood back and saluted Jake’s grave.

“I’m sorry, I have to ask but did you know him well?” Y/n asked, hopeful that he may be able to shed some light on the situation.

“Not all that well. I was only with him for four months but he took me under his wing and he protected me. He was kind to me as a new marine, never once treating me any differently. He was like an older brother.” The young man looked down sadly, tears evident in his eyes. “My name is Daniel Chase.”

He reached out his hand, allowing Y/n to shake it. “I’m Y/n Y/l/n, Jake’s fiancé.”

“I know,” Daniel replied. “He spoke of you often and he showed me a picture of you once. He said it was the happiest day of his life when you had a picnic on the beach in Melbourne.”

Y/n felt tears pricking her eyes again as she listened to Daniel speak. “He was a good man Y/n, he really cared about his soldiers and his friends.”

Y/n nodded, she knew Jake cared for people but she never truly knew the impact he had on his fellow Marines.

Y/n reached out for Daniel’s hand again, “Thank you, Daniel. Thank you for sharing that with me. I sometimes feel that he’s gone forever but then I look at my little boy and I know I’ll always have a part of me with him.”

Daniel smiled back at her, “I understand. Sometimes I wonder why I made it back home and so many others didn’t.”

“I think it’s down to luck…” Y/n paused, “or whether you want to be stupidly brave.”

They both laughed recalling all the times Jake performed ridiculous tasks in the face of grave danger. And at least for now, he could rest in a quiet part of New Jersey knowing that his country was free from war and terror.

Jake Seresin was awarded the Medal of Honour for his bravery in the Pacific. His fiancée accepted the medal on his behalf.

George returned to Alabama and married his fiancée Florence. They have a quiet life in Mobile, Alabama with their two daughters and their dog. George became a construction contractor.

Frank married Fern and they have two sons. They have a nice life in New Jersey. Frank became a headteacher at the local high school.

Daniel returned to the States and after many months on crutches he was fitted with a prosthetic leg. He met his future wife ,Faye, who worked at the local school shortly after. They are married and have three children. Daniel went back to university and trained as a doctor. He became a leader surgeon in his field. His family split their time between the States and Europe.

Y/n never remarried. She became a writer for the Wall Street Journal and wrote a book about the life of the Marines in the Pacific with Frank’s help. She lives with her son, Jacob, in New York. Every year they hold a reunion in Jake, Johnny and Edward’s honour and visit the cemetery.

All who returned from the war were never the same men they were when they left, all bore scars from the conflict and each man had to carry on with life the best they could, never forgetting their fallen comrades who didn’t get to see the world in peace.

Taglist: @wkndwlff @a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all @imjess-themess @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @airedale17 @shadowolf993 @topguncultleader @callmemana @t-nd-rfoot @desert-fern @cherrycola27 @green-socks @jstarr86 @starkleila @alexxavicry @floralfloyd @soulmates8 @depressed-friend-blog @mamachasesmayhem @bcon24 @books-are-escapes @dakotakazansky @memeorydotcom

#the good die young #jake hangman seresin x reader #ww2 us marines #ww2 jake seresin #top gun maverick

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dunefandomhub · 1 month

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FIC REC FRIDAY! 2022 Mini Bang Edition!

Sorry for missing the fic rec list last week, life got in my way and I didn't have anything queued!

This week we are doing a special edition in honour of the 2024 Dune Mini Bang opening for sign ups!

Dune Mini Bang 2022 Collection

The Nazar in the Hamsa by @a-guide-to-imperial-planetology

Harah must help her sons to cope with the death of their father, Jamis. Stilgar must also grieve his friend Jamis, as well as the way of life in the sietch as he knows it. Could the two find respite in the only other member of the sietch who understands the confusing experience of Paul-Muad'Dib, called Usul? Rated T Harah/Stilgar

The Snake in the Sand by @magpiesmudpie

Princess Irulan is on the run. Taken in by Lady Jessica, she becomes a servant in Caladan Castle, where she has to hide her true identity from Paul. A 'Fix-It' which begins 6 months before the Atreides move to Arrakis, then follows events from the first book. Rated M Paul/Irulan

Tibiyya; or, the Apocalypse of Mustafa by Silverman

At the tail-end of Muad'Dib's Jihad, Mustafa Corrino lands on Tibiyya, a jungle planet discovered in the course of the war. She has come to enforce the faith. Rated M

"The Ceremony" by @curlyallie

On a day of celebration in Sietch Libr, emotions of joy were running high. But for Chani, the celebration stirred up equally powerful and increasingly disturbing emotions. She will have no choice but to confront them. And she may find herself experiencing them more deeply than she could have ever imagined. Rated E Multi

Our Future is my Past by @escharis

Time is a peculiar thing dependent on the perception of the individual. For some a lifetime passes in the dreams of a singular night. Paul wakes up, he is fifteen again and come morning his family will be going to Arrakis. Yet, Paul could swear he had been lost in the desert of that planet just yesterday…and what to make of the beyond his mind has touched upon? Rated T

Heaven Smiles Upon Him by @almostg

What if Duncan Idaho was the son of an important House and Paul Atreides was his swordmaster? The answer is: Duncan's world is turned upside down and Paul is irresistible! Rated E Paul/Duncan

Confessions of an Imperial Concubine by @imnotoverlyobsessive

When commoner Sera tries to assassinate the new emperor, she assumes she’ll be executed. The last thing she expects is to be made into a concubine for his harem. Little does she know she’s meant for so much more than that. Rated E Paul/F!OC

Freewomen of Arrakis by @primeideal

Chani learns what it means to be a Reverend Mother, and considers her relationship with Paul Muad'Dib. Not necessarily in that order. Rated T Paul/Chani

Our Roads Lead Into the Desert by @ava-anderson151

Who is Countess Thorvald? Where does Paul's struggle between love and power come from? How was Aoife's life before joining the House of Atreides? And what have we missed during the three year gap in the story? Rated M Paul/F!OC

Under His Spell by chocobun

Duncan finds himself drawn to a certain very unusual young man. However, honor and duty forbid him from acting on his feelings. When he leaves for a mission in the desert, he is made to confront some truths about Paul Atreides and the relationship the two of them have. Rated G Paul/Duncan

The Pourpre Conspiracy: A Dune Fan Story by @avripzhavar

The Pourpre Conspiracy it's an alternate universe of Dune based on events in the first book and the 2021 film, there are no spoilers for the other books. This story follows the adventures of an original character, in a fast-paced noir thriller with other secret ingredients… Rated M

that hugest whole creation may be less incalculable than a single kiss by disgracie

"Your one unbridled response," he'd called that chewing of the lip. 'It tells me that you're disturbed, and I must kiss those lips to still their fluttering." — Frank Herbert, Children of Dune or 5 times he does so (and 1 time he does not). Rated T Leto/Jessica

if you are interested in signing up for this years Mini Bang, links are found HERE

#Fic Rec Friday #Dune Mini Bang #dune #dune fanfics #dune fanfiction

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cc-for-cy · 8 months

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The Ricky Montgomery Legacy Challenge

Inspired by @dizzywhims' Sour Legacy, I decided I wanted to make a legacy based on my favorite album, Montgomery Ricky by Ricky Montgomery!

The rules on this challenge are pretty lax, as I built it more for myself, however, the more I sat on it the more I wanted to actually put it out for everyone! So, here's all the rules! Make sure to tag either @cc-for-cy or @heretoreadmyfics and use the tag #montgomeryrickylegacy if you do this challenge, I would love to see it!

Rules written out are under the cut and make sure to STREAM RICK (OUT NOW)

| 0 - Rules

This challenge is NOT base game friendly, and uses almost all the packs. Feel free to alter this challenge if you do not have a pack used.

Mods are encouraged! Try not to use many cheaty mods however. Basemental Mods is encouraged for two generations but you may not use them if you feel uncomfortable with it.

Unless specified, drama, how many kids you have, etc are totally up to you!

This challenge is very storyline based! Feel free to go insane with the storyline, and use my descriptions as a baseline. Requirements are, of course, required to happen. You may also edit or add challenge rules depending on how hard you want the challenge to be, as this challenge is written for beginner storytelling.

Heirs can be any gender, HOWEVER the challenge is written for a patriarchy, and patriarchy is preferred.

If you play this challenge, please tag me, @heretoreadmyfics or @cc-for-cy and tag it #montgomeryrickylegacy

---

| 1 - California

“I am just a boy, but with a little bit of a culture, I'll go far

I want the world to know that I'm not just a photograph!”

Having just moved back to Del Sol Valley, you’re ready to get started on your big break! You swear you’re not going to fall into the pitfalls of stardom, saying “I love all my fans” when you don’t, becoming someone you never saw yourself as, but… Will that sentiment ring true when you finally get all you want?

Aspiration: World Famous Celebrity

Traits: Self-Absorbed, Creative, Ambitious

Career: Actor or Entertainer (Musician Branch)

Requirements:

Max the Acting and/or an Instrument (guitar, piano, violin, etc) skill

Date a celebrity and have at least 1 child with them

Become a 5 Star celebrity

---

| 2 - Get Used To It

“You want a garden, but you got a balcony

And you’re always looking for some company”

Growing up being a top celebrities kid, your life was luxurious, filled with parties, and general monkeying around- even some trying to make it on your own, but it wasn’t that important to you… Until it was. You used to be crazy with creativity but now.. you don’t feel as important as you once did. And you’re gonna have to Get Used to It.

Aspiration: Live Fast (Teen), Party Animal

Traits: Non-Committal, High-Maintenance, Childish

Career: The OPPOSITE of whatever you majored in (EX. Drama Degree -> Go into Business)

Requirements:

Max out the Gardening skill

Go to University

Have an eventful teenage/YA life that settles down halfway through, to your dismay

Have at least 2 different partners before meeting the one you marry

DON’T complete your aspiration

---

| 3 - Cabo

“Ashes, ashes, dust to dust

I think I found a place for us”

Once your parents finally settle down, they never really let you have creativity. They never let you have anything, really, saying that the real world would end all your hopes and dreams, and for a while you believed that, until you met them and suddenly your life felt colorful and loved. But.. You had to keep it secret. Because your parents would just tear that down like all your other dreams.

Aspiration: Soulmate

Traits: Romantic, Gloomy, Clumsy

Career: Painter (Either branch)

Requirements:

Max the Painting skill

Take a vacation and meet your partner there.

Partner must have blonde/white hair.

Keep your relationship secret from your family your entire life

Eventually live in the place you met your partner in (if available)

---

| 4 - My Heart Is Buried In Venice

“My heart is buried in Venice

Waiting for someone to take it home”

After seeing what love your parents showed, you thought romance would be easy. You had no idea what they went through, and when you finally found a partner you knew you were going to be everything to them. But maybe the issues your family had plagued you, because suddenly you were worried that nobody would ever love you the way you did to others. And the life you had with your partner crumbled, and over a small argument, they left, seeing your flaws. And now you’re alone, waiting for someone to take your heart home.

Aspiration: Serial Romantic

Traits: Paranoid, Romantic, Overachiever

Career: Civil Planner (Either branch)

Requirements:

Max a vacation based skill (ex. skiing, snowboarding, rock climbing, selvadordian culture, herbalism, etc)

Have a relationship break off after an argument (can be autonomous or not)

Have at least 1 kid with the partner that breaks up with you, and that has child has to be heir (may have more afterwards)

---

| 5 - Dont Know How

“I wanna do it but I don’t know

I don’t know how”

Seeing your parents relationship crumble over something so small never really gave you the confidence to ever even approach someone- so for most of your life you were alone and unloved, and kinda a nerd.. Until you see her and goddammit she is so out of your league! But even looking at her makes your knees buckle and your heart beat so hard- so you’re gonna try dammit, for the first time ever, to win someone out of your league! But.. Do you know how?

Aspiration: Nerd Brain, Villainous Valentine

Traits: Socially-Awkward, Self-Assured, Nerd

Career: Scientist

Requirements:

Have the Nerd Brain aspiration, but change it after competing the first two parts, and switch to Villainous Valentine

Meet someone who changes your life by being really hot and proceed with a romantic endeavor that gets your confidence up! Then cheat on them.

Every woohoo has to be a try for baby. You’re confident like that.

Max out the rocket science and/or programming skill(s)

---

| 6 - Line Without A Hook

“She’s a, she’s a lady

and I am just a line without a–”

Insecure and bad. That’s what most of your relationships have felt like. It didn’t help that your parent had a sexual promiscuity problem, which probably didn’t really help your endeavors. But once you get someone, you are determined to never let them go- no matter what!… But. Your relationship becomes codependent. It becomes a problem- you can’t stop being around them. And your problems are cropping up again— so what do you do? You’re a line without a hook. You leave.

Aspiration: Angeling Ace

Traits: Erratic, Perfectionist, Jealous

Career: Conservationist

Requirements:

Be best friends with your spouse, but eventually leave and abandon your family

(abandoning family is considered the end of this generation)

Max out the fishing skill

Finish the frog collection

Never live alone

---

| 7 - Last Night

“Last night

I was fine!”

You weren’t super young when your parent abandoned you, but definitely old enough to destroy your teenage/YA life. It seemed like they always had something else better to do than love you, like for example loving your other parent way more. Were you really wanted? You spend your days forever at the bar, drinking and trying to forget. Eventually you’re dragged away, every time. By someone who allegedly loves you.

Aspiration: Master Mixologist

Traits: Loner, Snob, Dance Machine

Career: Culinary (Mixology Branch)

Requirements:

Go to nightclubs/bars at least once a week

Be close/best friends with the parent who didn’t leave you.

Have a partner, but cheat on them with a one night stand, that results in the heir.

Master the mixology skill

---

| 8 - Mr Loverman

“I’m Mr. Loverman,

and I miss my lover..”

Your life was always a little bit of a mess, but you keep going. Eventually you meet the love of your life, and you love and live with them as hard as you can. For so many years… But eventually… you lose them. And you mourn that love for the rest of your life, falling deep into problems that are generational.

Aspiration: Soulmate

Traits: Cheerful -> Gloomy, Music Lover, Slob

Career: Freelancer (Writing Branch)

Requirements:

Lose your spouse, never remarry

Have a nuclear family (at least 3 kids + a pet)

Fall into old habits, start sabotaging relationships + going to bars.

Max the Cross-Stitch skill

---

| 9 - Snow

“Bury me six feet in snow”

Once one of your parents dies, your other parent becomes very vindictive towards the rest of your family. You took the heat of it, and quickly your life fell apart. You get into a toxic relationship, and lose who you were slightly in the process. When everything seems calm, you jump ship. You aspire for your kid to have a better life, and bury your skeletons to make sure they will.

Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast and/or Super Parent

Traits: Adventurous, Self-Absorbed, Family-Oriented

Career: Law (Either Branch)

Requirements:

Have a toxic relationship with your partner, break it off when it starts to get better

Have one kid, and max out all their skills as a toddler/infant

Max the Archeology skill

---

| 10 - This December

“This December

I’ll remember”

Your parent always wanted better for you. But you can’t help but think about the generations before you, how all their problems ruined their life, and how it seemed like every generation passed it down to their children. But you decide no more, this isn’t going to happen to you. Instead of fall into the pitfalls of your parents, you break the generational trauma, and decide to live a life free of the problems you know your family has been through. Don’t forget to look back, and see how far you’ve come. This December, you’ll remember everything.

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Traits: Family-Oriented, Loyal, Insider

Career: Education (Either Branch)

Requirements:

Fall in love healthily, get married, and adopt.

Celebrate the winter holidays the hardest. Go all out!

Master the Wellness skill

Reminisce on family often.

#montgomeryrickylegacy #montgomery ricky #ts4 #s4 #ts4 legacy #s4 legacy #sims 4 challenges #s4 gameplay #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 gameplay #s4 challenge #ts4 challenge #sims 4 challenge #simblr #the sims 4 #sims 4 #challenges #ricky montgomery #rick the album

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tallulah477 · 8 months

Note

LOL ty! im glad you think i could write JFJFFNND but nah i use a lot of run on sentences lmfao but i also have too many ideas that are in my head or on my notes app

but honestly the avatar universe is just so good on its own like i think u can make 28747373 fics out of the canon story like and still make more yk but i do love thinking of neteyam and loak in different aus like the royalty one 🤭 soon to be king neteyam whose bethrothed to another but loves his maid he known since childhood and plans to run away with her to a small cottage with a garden to sustain themselves

and prince loak doesnt reallt care for neteyams future wife (only cares abt training and finds her bratty) but as time passes when she goes to visit them he falls for her and her bitchy attitude (i imagine their relationship is all bark no bite)

and OMLLL loak who goes to visit her families nation/kingdom and as he's getting a tour of the place he can hear rumours from the knights or princes at the event later that night that theyve had sex with her and she was crazy shit like that

and then the first time they have sex he finds out shes a virgin and he would be just so SOFT with her and when she wants to ride him he says she just doesn't have too but shes like No I will then cue her getting the wind knocked out of her as she slowly inches further down on him and then he just takes over and fucks her from that position - he pulls her down to where theyre chest to chest and hes trying really hard to not go so fast bc its her first time but hes going crazy he gotta grip the sheets and lots of praise from loak saying shes being such a good girl for him and calling her his princess

im realizing i made their dynamics so 180 from eachother LMDAOKFJFNF

also i think yk whose who sending the messages based on the typing style but ill just do that emoji anon thing NFND

— 🤍

I swear it's like you read my mind because I was just going to make a post today asking if you wanted to be my first emoji anon lmao

Welcome 🤍 Anon!!!

I completely agree that on its own the Avatar universe is so huge and one of the most ideal worlds to write in. It's so unique and real - like firmly settled in what it is and how thought out/meticulously it was crafted. But there's also so much room for fans to take bits of it and put their own spin on it while still staying true to the overall world as a whole. Like the queue play thing: we know how they work and what they do for the most part, but we're able to be like "hmmm, I think it would feel AMAZING if we put it here (wink, wink)" and play with it and attach it to body parts that James Cameron would probably be horrified if he knew what we were trying to do to the sacred alien appendage 😂

Catch up on the story:

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Extra: One | Two

CW:// None

I can just imagine Lo'ak's reaction after Neteyam and his girl run away together and Lo'ak becomes the future king-to-be. He'd be so upset because his whole life he's been compared to his older brother and always in his shadow and Neteyam always got everything, but at least Lo'ak got to focus on training and eventually he would be able to settle down with someone that he gets to choose. But noooo, Neteyam gets everything he wants, including the girl he wants, and just left Lo'ak there to take over every responsibility that he just up and dropped.

Now Lo'ak has to take be betrothed to the girl Neteyam was supposed to be with and she's got an attitude problem even more than before Neteyam left. But can you blame her? Poor girl grew up in a society where men ruled everything and woman were looked at as things to be used or bargaining pieces. She knows what's said about her - the rumors that other people make up about her to put her down. God forbid we ever have a strong, independent woman with any sense of self confidence. And she thought she was getting lucky with Neteyam, maybe she finally found someone who would respect her and treat her well. But he never gives her a chance, prefers the company of a maid, and then runs away with her.

Her confidence would be absolutely shattered after that and then here comes her replacement prince, the king of attitude himself, also scorned by his older brother's actions. They both have walls up, both have issues they have to deal with - but when those walls finally come down? Hoooo boy. Magic ✨

#talie talks ♡#🤍 anon #royalty au

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idyllicwillowtree · 1 year

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A Good Pair (of Skates)

Genre: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, afab!reader, rollerskater!reader, y/n

Summary: Steve’s in love with his childhood best friend and he does everything he can to keep his feelings a secret from you. A roller skating injury might change that.

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: swearing, friends to lovers, injury, broken bones, mutual pining, road rage, he want you to have his babies, hurt x comfort, use of y/n

Author’s note: My first fic! I broke both my arms while roller skating (but I was by myself) so this is loosely based on true events!

part 2 | main masterlist

Part 1:

“Hey! Settle it down, you’re gonna scare away all my customers,” Steve ordered in his signature “dad tone” as he whipped open the glass door at Family Video.

Mike and Will were seated at the dark green bench outside the store while Dustin was standing and waving his arms frantically. They were all arguing about different Dungeons and Dragons strategies, a game Steve will never understand. It’s not like he hasn’t tried playing before but he just couldn’t get into it, much to Dustin’s disappointment.

“I don’t think you want us to leave, Steve,” Will commented, sharing a knowing smile with Mike and Dustin.

“Oh yeah, Byers? And why not?” Robin said, popping out from behind Steve. The working duo didn’t really want them to leave, though. They were in desperate need of a distraction so they could survive the last hour of their shift.

Dustin raised a brow, “because our ride happens to be your favorite customer, Steve.”

Steve finally took the time to look up at the mostly vacant parking lot, surprisingly quiet on this nice summer evening. A beautiful golden color lit up the end of the day as the sun was getting ready to set. The sharp ka-thumps of a basketball caught his attention next. Lucas was patiently teaching El how to dribble and pass the ball a few yards away from them. She was taking it very seriously, eyebrows pinched in concentration as she listened to her friend.

“Yeah, well as much as I like those two, I don’t think-” Steve abruptly cut himself off, realizing they don’t have a car, they can’t even drive yet, duh. His eyes slowly widened as he heard his favorite sound in the world.

Your laughter filled the air as you zoomed past the group at an alarming speed, Max gliding quickly behind you.

“Hey! You’re cheating,” the redhead exclaimed with a laugh.

“There’s no rules in drag racing, Mayfield” you teased.

“There’s no rollerskating in drag racing either,” she quipped back.

Steve realized Max was on her skateboard and you were wearing your famous roller skates, the tan and worn out boots you’ve had ever since your feet stopped growing. He once offered to get you new ones for your birthday, fearing for the safety of your ankles, but you had declined. It’s not like you couldn’t afford new skates, he just thought you deserved something new and nice. But you liked what you were familiar with.

We’ve been together for so long! If I were to get new ones it would almost feel like cheating! You laughed, trying to be serious, but even you knew how silly that sounded.

Fine, just don’t come crawling to me when your ankles snap in half!

Okay fine, I guess I won't! You playfully shoved at his chest.

Wait, wait, you can come to me. I'll just have to give you a lot of shit for it though.

Deal.

Stubbornness was an ugly trait in most people but you managed to make it beautiful. You did that with the majority of the things in Steve’s life. No matter how horrible his day is, one look from you and all the ugliness of the world would simply melt away. Every look, every shoulder graze, every embrace, he’d treasure it. He treasured you.

Steve was brought back to reality by an uncomfortable intrusion in his ear.

“Damn it, Robin!” He swiped at the pencil she was trying to stick there, “I told you to quit doing that.”

“But you make it so easy,” she teased, basking in the validation of the other kids’ snickering.

Robin started messing with Steve when she realized he would fall into a bit of a trance when he was busy admiring you. Placing small pieces of trash in his hair, sticking candy up his nose, things like that. It made his blood boil, mostly because it was frustrating to be stuck in a hypnotic-state of love without actually being with the person he’s in love with, and all his friends were there to witness it. This was made worse by their incessant teasing. He hated himself for being so obvious, that meant it was only a matter of time before you figured it out and would hate him for it. Steve figured you’d want nothing to do with him if he tried to change the dynamic that you already had, but it was getting increasingly difficult to mask his affection for you.

“Hey guys,” you said breathlessly as you rolled over to the group. He did the quickest glance to your heaving chest, hoping his eyes were fast enough for no one to notice. “Hi, Steve,” she added, causing Steve to send you a dopey smile.

“Hey, Y/N, what are you guys up to today?” Steve said, trying his hardest to keep his voice steady and casual.

“Oh you know, just lugging the crew around,” you gestured towards your trusty yellow ‘67 Volkswagen Kleinbus. Giant enough to fit all your friends. How’d he manage to miss that? Every time he hears the gentle purr of your car’s motor he’d come running, but the walkman he was listening to earlier must’ve drowned it out. “Thought we’d pay you guys a visit and maybe pick up a movie.”

“That’s good ‘cause we’ve got plenty of those,” Steve awkwardly jokes. He missed the door frame as he moved to lean on it but he’s hoping he saved it well enough for you not to notice.

It took only a second before a loud laugh bubbled up from your throat, causing you to let out more of a snort than the dainty giggle you were going for. Everyone else stayed quiet, not appreciating the joke as much as you did. Mike looked downright disgusted by Steve’s attempt at humor, but that didn’t matter as long as he got a chance to hear you laugh.

“You guys should come over after work and watch with us,” you said excitedly. “My parents are gone for the weekend so we get the whole place to ourselves.”

“We would just LOVE that, wouldn’t we Steve?” Robin gripped his shoulder and shook it with more force than was necessary.

“Y-yeah that sounds like a great idea, we’re definitely in.”

“Great,” you beamed at him. You pulled out a couple of bucks out of your jean short pockets and handed them to Will, “Will makes the final call on the movie decision, no exceptions.” Dustin and Mike groaned in response. “Don’t give me that! Unless you two can finally agree on something then you can choose, but Will’s the only one who actually thinks about what the group would want. They don’t call him Will the Wise for nothing.” The boy’s ears and cheeks turned a bold shade of pink, embarrassed by the positive attention he was getting from someone he looked up to so much.

“Will calls himself that,” Dustin grumbled.

“No talking back Dustin,” Steve added cheekily.

You sent Steve a goofy smile as Dustin harrumphed in protest.

Max got impatient by the lack of attention you had on her. Instead of using her words she hooked her fingers into your back belt loop and started wheeling you away. “Make sure they stay in line, Harrington,” you said, ignoring the redhead as you continued being pulled backwards.

“I’m on it, Y/L/N,” he saluted. You giggled and turned around to playfully scold Max about her manners.

You and Steve had always had this good-natured mom and dad role in the group. The younger of the kids appropriately nicknamed your bus the “mom-mobile” as you’ve taken it upon yourself to carpool them around the entire town whenever they asked. When Steve had work, you were the driver but Steve made sure he was the one behind the wheel whenever he was around. It’s not like you were a bad driver, he just wanted you to relax and focus on picking the music.

He would imagine being an actual dad with you by his side whenever he was in the driver's seat. Steve couldn’t help but fantasize about how you’d be as a real mom. So supportive and sweet, but strict and protective when you needed to be. You took your role as group mom very seriously. Going as far as to remember and plan everyone’s birthdays, making sure everyone ate food and drank water, and you would even volunteer to make extravagant Halloween costumes for them. Steve would chastise you for spoiling them too much but you’d just shake your head at him and smile. It was just as nice for you to spread the love as it was to be on the receiving end of it.

You and Steve grew up near each other and have been friends since he saw you skating around in circles on his street. It was a warm spring day when he saw you out his window. You stumbled every so often but never managed to fully fall. His parents weren’t home and he decided to just start biking alongside you. When you spotted him you lit up and shyly asked him his name.

‘I’m Steve, do you want to be friends? I have a pool!’

Relationships were so much simpler back then.

Your parents, much like Steve’s, were never really around. You both bonded over your lack of parental supervision. Birthdays and holidays were always spent making sure the other one wasn’t alone. Even when Steve started to become more focused on popularity, he always made sure to find time to make you feel loved and special. Steve felt so lucky that they were both welcomed into their new group of friends together. This ‘found family’ would not be the same to him if you weren’t a part of it.

You were always one step ahead of Steve, anticipating everyone’s emotional needs before he could. He knew for certain that he wanted someone like you for his future children. Steve convinced himself that there had to be other women out there who were just as equally thoughtful and patient as you, but deep down he knew no one could compare. The longing he felt for you was resting heavily on his heart, but he had to resist so he didn’t ruin your friendship. It was 10 years in the making, all you had were each other. He couldn’t risk losing the one thing that anchored him just because he was having romantic feelings.

He stood there in the Family Video doorway for a few more minutes, watching as you gracefully circle Max, making it look like you were walking forward while actually moving backwards. He admired the way the golden sun spread across your body and the way it magically transforms your eyes into a whole different color.

Steve used to be nervous about your lack of safety gear when you would go out skating but once he saw you in action after you practiced more he loosened up a bit. The skates were like an extension of you, anyone who watched you would see that. Your passion shining through as you glided around the parking lot, occasionally flowing into a beautiful spin. Those were Steve’s favorites to watch, your hair would splay out with the movement, the colors of your outfit blending together, and your arms pumping you around and eventually being placed in a delicate pose as your momentum picked up.

You’d make it look so easy and smooth that even Steve believed he could emulate the grace you possessed on wheels. He has tried before, much to your delight, but it was definitely harder than it looked considering he ended up with two bloody elbows and a fat lip. At least you were there to patch him up afterwards. Hating the sting of the alcohol wipes but enjoying the excuse to be close to you and to have your delicate fingers on his skin.

Robin managed to get a Red Vine part way up his nose without him noticing before he dramatically smacked it away. He spun towards her ready to give her a piece of his mind when suddenly your terrified voice broke through the peaceful evening.

“MAX! LOOK OUT!”

Steve turned just in time to see you yank the young girl backwards by the back of her bright blue t-shirt. You successfully pulled her away from a pick up truck that was going way too fast in the parking lot. You weren’t able to save Max’s skateboard as the car drove right over it, splintering it to pieces. You both landed on your backs, Max not hitting the ground as hard as you did since you were still on wheels. The man driving continued on at the same speed and even had the audacity to stick his hand out the window to flip the girls off.

El’s instincts took over and she stopped the truck with her powers, causing steam to smoke through the front of the vehicle. The man stepped out in a rage.

“What the FUCK?!” he bellowed in anger, confused by the sudden damage to his precious car.

“Robin, call Hopper!” Steve called out before sprinting towards you two. He needed to make sure everyone was protected from this angry man so he could focus on making sure you and Max were okay, he could trust Hopper to do just that.

He ran as fast as he could, Lucas trailing closely behind him, basketball forgotten. Max sat up slowly and looked at you with worry in her eyes, you were still laying in the same spot on the ground, frozen.

“Shit! Are you guys okay?” Steve panted as he came to stop in front of you. Lucas was already helping the redhead up and gently brushing the dirt from her clothes. “Y/N?” Steve questioned gently. Your eyes were open, at least you were conscious. It looked like you were processing what had just happened, “Hey doll, are you hurt?”

The nickname made your eyes snap to his brown ones, with a shaky voice you said, “oh, uhh, hi Steve…I don’t think so…”

That wasn’t very convincing.

“I’m gonna sit you up now, okay?” Steve communicated clearly.

You nodded slowly at him, giving silent permission for him to help you. He reached behind your upper back and gripped your hand gently.

“Shit,” you hissed as he pulled you to sit.

“Shit - sorry - shit! What hurts, doll? I’m so sorry,” Steve said, chastising himself for not being more careful.

“It’s okay, Steve. I think I just landed on my arms wrong.”

His eyes scanned your arms, he stopped himself from touching you in case he caused you more pain. Your limbs were at their normal shapes, no bones sticking out at unnatural angles or anything obvious like that. But the way you sat there with your arms still, making sure you didn’t jostle yourself, indicated to Steve that you weren’t okay. He had participated in enough sports over the years to recognize the panicked look of someone who had just broken a bone. Steve’s big hands were hovering around your upper body, unsure of what to do. You missed the warmth they transferred to you when he helped you sit up.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Max told you quietly, kneeling down to your level.

You plastered a big smile to your face and in an overly patronizing tone you said, “oh little Miss Max, you’re so silly. Of course I had to.”

She rolls her eyes with a soft smile, appreciative of your selfless act but still nervous about your condition. You tried to reach out to her but your arms weren’t responding, this caused your smile to drop and Steve’s anxiety to spike.

Robin was dealing with the irresponsible driver after getting off the phone with Hopper, who was thankfully on his way. The man was convinced that you and Max had something to do with his car breaking down and was yelling at Robin about it. Mike and El stood behind her as back up in case she needed it before police could arrive.

“Shitshitshitshitshit...” The familiar sound of Dustin’s repetitive cursing became louder and louder as he got closer with Will by his side.

“Are you guys okay?” Will said, brows pinched in concern.

Max responded, “I’m fine, but Y/N isn’t.”

“SHIT,” screeched Dustin, causing Steve to flinch slightly. He swiped a hand over his face in frustration.

“I’m fine guys, seriously. I just…I just can’t really move my arms, no big deal,” you mumbled the last part, still trying to diffuse everyone’s worry.

“Alright that’s it, we're going to the hospital,” Steve said sternly, making the call to get you professional help. He began untying the frayed laces of your skates and sliding them off your feet. Will silently went to retrieve your Reebok sneakers that you had stashed in your Volkswagen.

“What?! No Steve, I don’t think that’s necessary.” Steve was already lifting you to a standing position by your hips, not wasting any more time. “You’re hurt and we have to get you help.”

“I’m fine, Steve, I just need to sleep it off and I’ll be good as n-new,” you said as you tried your hardest to straighten your right elbow, your left wrist not doing any better. There was blood and dirt into your palms, evidence of where you landed. As a skater you know that you’re not supposed to stick your arms out when you fall but your instinct to protect Max took over.

You were actually convinced it wasn’t that big a deal. Adrenaline was still coursing through you so you weren’t able to fully feel how messed up your bones felt. You assumed it was at most just a sprain that you could easily nurse on your own at home. You barely ever get hurt, this is a whole new experience for you. Even when the group was out fighting monsters and Russians, you had managed to make it out mostly unscathed every single time, much to Steve’s relief.

Steve’s grip stayed planted on your hips. If anyone said anything he’d claim it was just to make sure you didn’t tip over, and that might be the case but in reality it was mostly to keep you close to him. “Sweetheart, your arms could be broken. We have to go,” he stated gently.

“I don’t-...broken?” You had a rebuttal already queued up in your mind before processing what Steve had said. Once he mentioned the “b-word” your nerves started seeping in to replace the adrenaline in your veins and it became more real. Will handed your shoes to Steve and he bent down to slip them on your feet, carefully making sure you didn’t fall in the process. You tried placing your left hand on his shoulder to steady yourself but instead you winced at the dull ache in your wrist.

Steve stood at his full height and was prepared to counter your arguments so he could get your stubborn self to the hospital, “we need-.”

“Okay,” you surrendered softly, glancing up at his eyes before looking down at your shoes. They were equally as worn out as your skates.

Steve allowed himself to be surprised for only a second before jumping into action. He plucked the “mom-mobile” keys out of your pocket by the colorful braided lanyard that was sticking out of your jeans and started escorting you towards his BMW, hands back on your waist.

“Give these to Robin, she’ll drive you guys home” he said tossing your keys to Lucas. That was the first time since you fell that he took his gaze off of you.

He wished he hadn’t.

Steve witnessed how upsetting this was for the group of young teens which made his heart hurt even more.

Dustin wore his heart out on his sleeve so he was openly letting the tears flow down his cheeks into his quivering chin, while Max was trying her hardest to keep the tears from escaping as she watched you carefully. Lucas looked at how gentle yet strong Steve was being towards you and tried to mirror that with Max. Poor Will looked like he was going to yak all over himself. Sure, they all have the shared trauma of fighting actual monsters, but this was so normal that it almost scared them more. Almost. Seeing a man who is just a man, not some sort of evil supernatural creature or mad scientist, do something so inhumane was very alarming.

Now wasn’t the time to comfort the young teens, as much as Steve might want to, but his focus had to be on you. He knew they could handle themselves, they’ve proven it time and time again.

Steve was leading you towards his BMW but unfortunately, you two had to walk past the man from the truck in order to get there. Luckily, Robin had been defending you and giving the driver a piece of her mind. Robin’s tactic was to just keep talking at the man, leaving him angry and confused, not able to get a word in. Steve trusted that Robin could handle it until Hopper arrived.

“Robin, you’re gonna have to close up. I’m taking Y/N to the hospital.”

El gasped but you sent her a reassuring smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes, but it was enough to let her know you’ll be fine.

Steve made eye-contact with the driver, sending him the most intimidating look he could muster. He couldn’t stop the rage from building inside his chest as he looked at the poor excuse for a man. He wore grimy overalls that strained against the pressure of his beer-belly. There was a sweat stained t-shirt underneath the denim that Steve assumed used to be white. His patchy beard, that was filled with crumbs, barely hid his excitement at seeing you hurt.

“That’s what happens when dumb broads like you mess with my truck,” he commented gravelly, still convinced that you and Max were at fault for breaking his clunky vehicle.

Steve felt you tense beside him and before Steve could launch himself at the man, he heard sirens in the distance and decided to let Hopper handle it. His focus needed to be on getting you medical help.

Steve continued with you towards his car and opened the passenger door, gently helping you settle in the familiar spot. The smell of leather and stale coffee would usually envelop you in comfort, sending you into a calm and relaxed state. Being in this spot meant you were with your best friend, but for now all you could focus on was the pain continuing to blossom throughout your arms

Before closing the door Steve knelt down on the ground next to you, trying to catch your eye. They were dancing across the dashboard, not really focusing on it. He could see all the bad thoughts swarming through your head by the look in your eyes alone.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t do that. Everything’s going to be okay, I’m right here.” Steve placed a warm hand on your knee and it grounded you immediately. Your wide eyes moved to look over at him. You sniffed before nodding, not trusting your voice at the moment.

Without thinking, Steve used his unoccupied hand to hold your cheek softly and planted a tender kiss on your forehead, hoping to scare away the demons swimming around in your mind.

His heart plummeted when he realized what he was doing. It might have been a little too intimate to just kiss you like that without even asking first and he was nervous that he broke some sort of boundary with you. Steve anticipated a headbutt for crossing that line as he slowly pulled away, he would’ve expected a slap if your arms had been working.

But what Steve did not expect was for you to let out the gentle breath you had been holding and for the tension in your shoulders to dissolve.He looked into your eyes and saw nothing but relief.

“Thanks, Stevie.” You smiled sweetly at him.

“No problem, sugar,” he breathed out, overwhelmed by the love blossoming in his chest. Steve couldn’t help but blush violently when you called him ‘Stevie’. He still had your cheek in his hand so he began to stroke it softly with his thumb. He didn’t miss the way your gaze stayed on him. He watched you back and noticed a new freckle on the bridge of your nose that caused the butterflies in his stomach to flap even more aggressively.

Suddenly, remembering the task at hand, he cleared his throat and helped you with your seatbelt. He closed the passenger door and ran around to the driver’s side. Wasting no time in pulling out of his parking spot and driving towards the town’s emergency room, carefully avoiding Hopper’s cop car on the way out.

part 2 | main masterlist

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