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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Text

Honey Girl.

Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

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

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x

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

Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine.

Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/

An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.

"Babe! Babe! Babe!"

"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"

You can guess. In fact, you already have.

Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.

You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.

You wish people would shut up about it.

The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.

You fall into the latter.

You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.

You're not sure you ever want it to happen.

The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment.

"Babe, you still there?"

Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"

You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.

"Sure. I'll see you in ten."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."

You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.

"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.

The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.

"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"

She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.

"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."

As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."

"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.

"Like fucking magic."

You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.

"Magic?" you prompt.

"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"

She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.

"So, what's his name? What's he like?"

"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"

"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.

"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."

You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.

"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"

"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."

You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.

"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"

"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."

Jackpot. She's read you like a book.

"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"

"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"

"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"

You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.

"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."

"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."

Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.

"Hi, Mama."

"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."

She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.

"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."

"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."

She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.

"You've poured four, Mama."

"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."

"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."

"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"

She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.

Your Dad's best friend.

They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.

He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.

Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.

She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.

It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.

A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.

Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.

Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.

Might as well make the most of the freedom.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.

"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.

"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.

"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.

"I brought your favourite, Lori."

"So did I," you echo, laughing.

"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"

"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."

"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.

The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.

"Lacie got Tethered."

"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.

"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.

"Tell me about it."

"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."

"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."

"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."

"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."

"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."

"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."

"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."

"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.

And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.

"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.

"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."

You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.

"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."

You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.

"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.

"You got big late night plans?" you tease.

"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."

Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.

"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"

"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."

"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.

You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.

"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.

"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"

They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.

"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.

"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.

"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.

"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.

"Maybe?" he smirks.

"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."

"Like hell you will," he grumbles.

You quirk a brow in confusion.

"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."

You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.

"Why don't we go somewhere?"

"Where?" you ask tentatively.

"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"

You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

"I fucking love the beach."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.

The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.

The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.

A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.

"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."

He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."

Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.

"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."

"And what is this?"

"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."

You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.

"Me too," he whispers.

You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.

"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."

You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.

"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"

He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.

"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."

"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.

"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.

You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.

"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."

You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.

"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"

"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."

He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.

"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.

"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."

"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."

You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.

"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."

"You're the best, sugar."

You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"

The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?

"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."

"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.

Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.

"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"

You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.

"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."

He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.

"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.

"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.

Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.

"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."

You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.

"Woah, easy. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.

He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.

And then, it happens.

Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.

Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.

Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.

After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.

You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.

He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.

You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.

He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.

"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.

A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.

"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."

Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.

You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.

You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.

Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.

You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.

A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.

"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."

"My soulmate," you whisper.

The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.

Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.

"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.

He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.

"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."

"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.

"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."

You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.

You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.

"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.

"My honey girl."

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lorarri · 2 months

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★ . . . 𝐈 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 , 𝐃𝐑𝟑

summary , taking the reason off has done daniel some good as he now shows it and his cowgirl girlfriend off at his home grand prix, and laughing at mclarens downfall

pairing , daniel ricciardo x fem! gf! texas cowgirl! reader

main masterlist | f1 masterlist | daniel ricciardo masterlist

yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1 danielricciardo 25,798,827 others

yourinstagram btw this is danny's hat

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danielricciardo dass my baby

danielricciardo never looked better ❤️ ⤷ user danny ric Y/N stan first f1 driver second ⤷ danielricciardo always

danielricciardo god you look so hot ⤷ maxverstappen1 mate you've hyped her up enough save some for the rest of us ⤷ yourinstagram shut up max go get kelly to complement you since you want praise so bad ⤷ user girlie went in 😭 ⤷ user nah that's a violation

danielricciardo look people my gf's wearing my hat 🤠 ⤷ user the people that get the joke rn: 💀 ⤷ user what's the joke? ⤷ user you don't want to know

user icon

user daniel won fr

landonorris can I wear danny ric's hat? ⤷ yourinstagram no. ⤷ user hahahhaha ⤷ user lando is such a drama starter ⤷ user he def knows the rule ⤷ user not lando and Y/N fighting for danny in the comments ⤷ user I mean I don't blame them tbh

user our favourite cowgirl

user how do you feel about mclarens downfall ⤷ yourinstagram they had it coming ⤷ yourinstagram still love Lando and Oscar though

user best wag tbh

user everyone’s serotonin levels after seeing this 📈

user omg the caption ⤷ user what's wrong with the caption? ⤷ user do yall know nothing about the cowboy hat rule

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danielricciardo . 15hr ago

seen by landonorris maxverstappen1 and 39,990,994 others

INTERVIEW CLIP :: "I'M A COWBOY NOW" THE LATE SHOW - DANIEL RICCARDO

danielricciardo

liked by yourinstagram brotherone and 67,783,782 others ➻ tagged yourinstagram

danielricciardo shoot your ex day dump before home gp next week

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yourinstagram I know this is meant to be on a Sunday but I'll make an exception for you

yourinstagram god you are so hot ⤷ brotherone shut up please we get it your man is hot ⤷ yourinstagram ain't my fault you 28 and single

yourinstagram are you taken?

yourinstagram god aussie and a cowboy god I lucked out

yourinstagram no one talk to me for the next 24 hours as I recover from danny riding a horse shirtless ⤷ user so real for this

yourinstagram when he looks good in your cowboy hats >>>

user Y/N being the ultimate simp for her man

user nahh danny and Y/N hyping each other up will never not be cute

user god when will it be me

user cowboy danny does things to me that should not be stated in the comments section ⤷ yourinstagram yeah [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] ⤷ user this is why I'm obsessed with you

user idk who I want more

landonorris I feel left out

landonorris I thought our friendship meant more to you danny ⤷ danielricciardo sorry mate mrs come first ⤷ landonorris I see... ⤷ user not lando being salty on the main 🤣

user plz one chance that is all I ask for

maxverstappen1 where was my invite? ⤷ schecoperez and mine ⤷ redbullracing and ours ⤷ yourinstagram how about this week? ⤷ redbullracing sounds good ⤷ landonorris wheres my invite? ⤷ yourinstagram not this time champ redbull fam only ⤷ christianhorner can I bring the kids they want to see the horses ⤷ yourinstagram ofc! bring my angel geri as well

user my parents 🥰

user okay we need to know was zak brown's face shot at for shoot you ex day? ⤷ yourinstagram yes ⤷ user your so real for this 😭 ⤷ user zak brown gonna have extra security after this ⤷ user does zak brown even count as an ex? ⤷ yourinstagram ex-boss so he's close enough

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yourinstagram

liked by danielricciardo christianhorner and 67,783,782 others ➻ tagged danielricciardo

yourinstagram always knew I would marry a cowboy

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danielricciardo

liked by yourinstagram maxverstappen1 and 67,783,782 others ➻ tagged yourinstagram

danielricciardo always knew I would marry a cowgirl

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snowsinterlude · 5 months

Text

❛pretty when you cry❜

(coriolanus snow x f. reader)

summary: such a pretty boy, such big eyes. how could he dare to make you feel excited only for the sight of his tears?

based on this ask

c.w: sub coriolanus x dom reader, dacryphilia, edging, masturbating (m. recieving), tear licking, explicit content, heavy and detailed smut, nsfw, humiliation, praising (m. recieving), oral recieving (f.), unproctected sex, creampie

holding onto your thighs, his hands grabbing them with a gentle strenght he used only with you, he cried as you stared down at him, as he pumped his dick on his hands imagining it was you, your eyes glued to how pretty he was when crying like a baby.

ah, he was so cute. you wanted to see him crying. you needed that sight into your life.

and what better way to do it than edging your pretty boy multiple times until he was a sweating, crying mess? well, if there was any way of doing it, you discarded the idea immediatly after seeing how hard he was after eating you out today.

he looked like a mess. hair on his forehead, lips wet and red from how much he kissed and sucked your pussy, sweaty and looking up at you with his big, dog eyes, in search for your approval.

only to be surprised with your sick desire to see him crying.

"babe," you begun, drinking into the sight of his body kneeling in front of you. "would you cry for me?"

"always." and so, keeping truth to his words, he was crying right now, begging you to let him into you, to let him release himself. "please, please- y/n, let me cum. please!" he begged.

"i don't want to, baby." you said, kissing his tears. you licked your lips, tasting the salty flavor of his tear and sweat mixed together.

"w...why not?" he asked, brows knitted together. god, he would be the death of you.

"because you look so pretty right now, baby. so sensitive for me. look at you," you pointed, but he never took his eyes out of you "you look like the prettiest mess i've ever seen."

"please, just this once." he sobbed, his dick twitching painfully just by the sight of your tongue licking his tears, only for you to make a 'pop' sound with your soft lips.

"okay, baby. just this once." you allowed him, spreading your legs to let him into you, and boy, you felt so good on his cock. he felt like in heaven, as if he was fucking something better than a pillow, better than the ted bear you gave him with your smell. "slow, coryo. don't make things end so fast." you said, your soft voice putting him into trance as he nodded obediently, thrusting slowly and steady into the roof of your pussy.

his moans were more noticeable than yours, and you loved that for you, your hands touched his face, making him look at your eyes as you bored your eyes into his, kissing his lips softly, "such a pretty boy, so good to me." you said, kissing his lips again. "you're so pretty when you cry, coryo." you said, making him sob a bit as your walls milked his cock, a usual sign that you'd let him cum, taking him over the edge.

he cried more as the sweet release you provided him hit his senses, letting him cry as he came inside your pussy and you came around his dick, holding into your moans only to hear his groans and soft, low moans. so cute.

"'m sorry, didn't mean t-to cum inside you-" he said, pulling his softening dick away as he looked at you desperately, you smiled at him, kissing him again.

"it's okay baby. i'm on the pill." you said, lips pecking on his. "keep crying like that to me and i'll let you cum inside me all you want." you said, hugging his tired body.

ah, he's such a baby. you loved babying him.

tagging: @tiaamberxx @darby-rowe

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #young president snow #tbosas smut #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #x reader #sub!character #sub coryo

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kenjakusbraincum · 6 months

Text

Walls

Sukuna x Reader

A small addition to Vows

Synopsis: Two scenes exploring the first times reader and Sukuna respectively break down in the face of reader's terminal illness. Tags/Warnings: sick!gn!reader, master/pet dynamics, angst, hurt/comfort. (Chronologically takes place after reader and Sukuna talk about him taking new pets in the original fic!) Word count: 1.2k Author's note: This is probably as vulnerable as I'll ever write Sukuna :3

You tried to be strong. So long, so hard you tried to be untouchable. You knew sukuna hates weaklings. But you're in so much pain. You can barely swallow anything properly with how sore your throat is from the coughing. It takes so much out of you, physically and mentally, to pretend that this harrowing illness is nothing, and that you're somehow okay with it and ready to die. You're not. You don't want to die. You don't want this life that you've built with Sukuna to end. At least not as abruptly as it seems it will happen. One day you just can't pretend anymore.

Sukuna always asks if you're doing okay. He hopes that one day he'll hear you say yes. But you don't. You mutter a quiet no, and hope the topic would quickly. Not quickly enough. Because you break down crying. It starts small, your usual, timid little crying, but as you talk through it, the weight of your illness presses down on you like a rock - and you break. Loud, helpless. Hysterical bawling, the crying that leaves you breathless, the crying that drains you of everything you have and more.

And Sukuna doesn't know what to do - usually telling you to stop would work, because you would obey his every word, no questions asked. But this is different, this isn't your usual crying about something small, something you aren't allowed to do or something mean Sukuna said. This is a honest, heart wrenching breakdown that has been impending for a while. And he can't tell you to stop - because you can't stop. All he can do is hold you tight, and remind you to breathe.

There's nothing he can do. Healing you is a double edged sword, that provides relief, but at the cost of crashing hopes when the symptoms return. They always return. How useless of him. He can't properly comfort you because he's so detached from human emotions and interactions, he can't save you from this hardship... And he can hardly make it any easier. All he can do is sit with his guilt, little weeping you curled up in his arms, and... that salty drop of liquid that just escaped from his eye to his lip. What was that? Is he?... No, it's impossible.

Of course, reader falls asleep quickly after this. Sukuna stands up to leave, but he finds himself unable to part his stare from the bloody napkins and abandoned crochet projects by your bed. Tea gone cold and plates still full of food and sweets that you didn't have the strength to consume. Clothes untouched, folded neatly in your closet - you don't change out of your sleepwear anymore. The doorknob to the terrace, the one that leads to the garden you love so much, gathering dust after days, weeks of being unopened. You used to go into the garden every day. Your descent is slow, like that of a flower, whose petals slowly dry and detach, until none are left. His favorite flower, the one he loved to admire every day, at every opportunity. The type of flower that grows, blooms once in a hundred years and more.

And Sukuna is a stone, was a stone, stoic and unshaken for the longest time. But he is not as he was before. Love spares no one. Love leaves no one unchanged. He breaks.

You're in his lap in the garden, during one of the last sunny days of autumn. He stares into the distance, lost in thought as he often is, but... his face looks different. Tense, with his brows furrowed and his lips tight. He looks worried, almost sad. You ask him what he's thinking about, and he hesitates. There's a lump in his throat, and you hear it in his voice when he finally speaks. Nothing. He should've said nothing. What a fool.

He tells you he struggles to imagine life without you. And then he looks at you, and you feel it so vividly. A punch to your gut, a knife to your heart. Oh. You know you're dying, but if you had even the slightest of doubts, it's gone now that Sukuna is opening up to you. Sukuna and vulnerability don't exactly go hand in hand.

You sit up and plant a kiss to his shoulder. You tell him what you believe to be true - that the pain is fleeting, and that one day he will be complete again, alone or with someone else in your place. He frowns at you, once more unwilling to accept that scenario. But you want that for him. You truly, wholy believe that he is worth your - and anyone else's love. That he's beautiful, he keeps you safe, provides for you, pleasures you, listens to you - what more can anyone ask for? There's a thousand humans who would die for a chance to be loved like that, who would be just as genuine and grateful as you - and he crumbles, telling you to just shut up! He turns his head in another direction, facing you with the veins popping in his neck. He should've known you would try to make it better. He should've known you wouldn't let him wallow in his misery.

You crawl closer, reaching your hand for his face and trying to pull it towards you, but he doesn't budge. He holds his breath. He really doesn't want you to see him like this. Weak, pathetic.

Sukuna. You call him by his name. So intimate, forbidden. So personal you don't think you've ever called him that outside his bed, and even then it was pried off your lips, pulled from the depths of your conscience, out of your control. Anyone else would've paid for the mistake of uttering his name with their lives. But it's nothing new that you have privileges others don't.

Sukuna. You wrap your arms around him and lean into a hug, and he accepts it, squeezing you so tight he almost leaves breathless. You kiss up his neck, his cheek - wet, and his lips, almost trembling as they touch yours. There's so much more you want to tell him - but he shushes you. Kisses you again, tells you to forget it, it will be fine. You're not sure if he's saying it to you or to himself.

You tell him you know, that's what you've been trying to say the whole time. Then you smile at him, that angelic smile of yours, and smooth your hands over his face, wiping the frown off of his face. What a magical little being you are, he thinks to himself as he savors your beauty. You always had the power to take his anger and turn it into love.

No, Sukuna doesn't think that he could ever scoop up another little human like you out of the crowd. For a moment he thinks maybe it's better that you die, simply because he fears how far he would keep falling for you if nothing stopped him. He thinks maybe he would've become a different man. A better man. But your fate is sealed, and with it, any and all hopes for a changed Sukuna. Soon you will breathe your last breath, and Sukuna will once again be a monster, unbound by anyone or anything. Free of the confines that you've passed upon him - the heaviness of a human conscience. Closer to the man he was before he met you. But never, ever the same again.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #sukuna angst #sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #this fic has authenticity points #bc it was written when i was sick with the same symptoms as original vows reader #so like if this actually sucks its bc i was genuinely sick #and if it doesnt thats bc i was in character lmaoooo #help..#vows

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scarletlizzard · 3 months

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Hooray for 500!! 🎉 You deserve that and more!

5 or 58 for either Nat or Wanda…dealer’s choice! Thank you!!🙏

5 & 58

104 Dialogue Prompts

Paring: natasha x reader (don't think I used pronouns)

Tags: mentions of violence/guns, blink and miss it angst, fluff

A/N: Thank you anon 🥳 You're the best, thanks for the request! I just did both and chose Nat ❤️

~~~~

Okay, so you fucked up. You definitely should've waited for backup.

Your feet stumble over each other on the broken road, gunfire from behind you willing you to move faster. Around you, a marketplace crowded with people, innocent people. In your hand, a powerful agent in a small vial, strong enough to wipe out the entire city.

"On your left," you finally hear on the comms. You let out a sigh of relief as you look back to see a truck coming through.

You see Natasha leaning out the window of the backseat passenger side, arms ready. "Y/N! Take my hand," she calls to you, the truck driving next to you as you run.

You reach out to her, making eye contact with the widow. Usually, you would see a look of annoyance, you were surprised to see her green eyes filled with worry. Brows pushed together as her face wavers with fear.

"Take my hand!" She calls again, and this time you jump up, letting her grab you. Natasha pulls you into the truck as Sam cheers from the drivers seat with a "Hell yeah!" While you sit in the backseat with Natasha, bullets littering the back of the truck.

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, laughing along with Sam in relief. Natasha only moves away from you, seemingly shaken up.

***

As the truck pulls up to the safe house, you hand the vial to Sam after the three of you get out. "I'll get this bad boy locked up," he nods and pats your shoulder to which you wince. Natasha frowns at you when he walks away.

"What the fuck was that?" She says, pushing you. Your back hits the door of the truck.

"Easy!" You wince again, groaning at the sharp pain from your shoulder blade.

"No, you could've died!" Natasha yells back in your face. "You could've died..." She says in a softer tone, tears welling in her eyes.

"Nat..." You mumble, reaching out to her. She slaps your hand away. Pushing you again. And again. She hits your chest, letting the tears fall down her cheeks.

"You don't get to just, make someone care about you, and then-then do stupid shit like that!" She cries, and you stand there shocked. You had never seen the widow this upset, let alone in an incident involving you.

"I didn't think you cared that much... you don't act like it," you say, reaching your hand across your body to hold your shoulder. Natasha sighs, looking to your face, studying your soft eyes and bruised cheek.

"Because of this exact reason. I try to stay away, and I try not to care. But you're so fucking..." She's at a loss for words, and instead of trying to find the right ones, she grabs your face in her hands and kisses you.

Her lips are soft and wet, salty from her tears. You wrap your arms around her middle and pull her closer, deepening the kiss. The kiss you had wanted since the first day you laid eyes on her. She pulls apart only a little, her forehead resting on yours as her lips hover over your lips.

"Don't do something so stupid again," Natasha sighs, and you nod in response. You press your lips to hers again, mumbling out an apology.

"You're in a lot of pain, aren't you?" She says.

"Yep," you groan and smile as she laughs and wipes her face. Her hand rests on your cheek for just a second longer before she takes your hand.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

"Wait, does this mean I can kiss you again or... was that like a one-time thing or..." You trail off, raising your eyebrow.

"You're insufferable... Yes, you can kiss me again," Natasha says in a serious tone, but the smile on lips tells you all you need to know.

#marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x gn!reader #short one shot #500 followers

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toji-girl · 2 months

Note

Happy Sat \o/ How do you think Toji and Shiu would react to someone hitting on their very pregnant s/o?

my polyship and reader being pregnant? sder oh, please I am so in love with both of them 😭😭 it's Sunday but I hope you had a wonderful Saturday!

tags: pregnant! fem reader + protective husbands! toji + shiu + polyship + suggestive at the end

Toji and Shiu were on you like bloodhounds as soon as you found out you were pregnant, and you thought before was bad but now they won't leave you alone for a moment in case you need them.

They took turns or shifts is what you'd call them when one was at work the other was with you, and on the rare day both men were home you took advantage of that and went out to town for the day.

"I think maybe we should bake a cake, mhm, a strawberry pound one with a sweet icing, oh that sounds so good." You moaned as the three of you strolled under the warm sun that bathed you in a golden glow.

Toji and Shiu shared a knowing look.

Your cravings shifted from salty to nothing but sweets and all you wanted was fresh fruit or some sort of dessert and if they were able to add them together then they knew you'd lavish them in kisses.

That's how you ended up in the store twenty minutes later standing in the aisle looking at the boxes of different cake flavors, your eyes scanned each one as you looked over at Shiu who stood next to you.

You scooted closer and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "I love you how you're so protective but you can go with Toji. I'll be okay." You told him as he glanced at you debating on it, he didn't feel comfortable with it.

But Toji was close by looking at cribs and other things for the nursery that needed a few more touches before it would be finished. "I don't know if that's a good idea, sweetheart," Shiu replied looking at you.

He couldn't help but return the kiss, however, this time it was on your lips. "You two are my shadows, it would be nice to have a moment alone. I can't even take a shower alone, which I don't mind because I have two sexy husbands washing me but please for now, leave."

Shiu opened his mouth ready to argue before kissing you again respecting your wishes and letting you pick out whatever you wanted for dessert while he made his way over to Toji who asked why he left.

Both men took their protectiveness over the top a little, especially Toji who had issues controlling his mouth or hands whenever he saw a man close to you. "I didn't know they sold sweet snacks like you."

You looked next to you to see a man standing there in a business suit, a box of cookie mix in his hands, his eyes shifted down to your swollen belly and ring but that didn't matter to him none.

The stranger took a step closer only to be stopped by Toji, who grabbed the back of his neck like a dog in trouble, causing Shiu to step forward and stop it before it got out of hand. "My wife isn't somethin' to be sold, so why don't you apologize to her?" Toji's voice was low as he let his fingers curl into the man's shirt turning him.

He looked at you with wide eyes full of fear and shock. The man knew he couldn't do anything but apologize and scurry off when Toji let go of him to step closer to you wrapping his arm around your waist.

You couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed at your husband's display but you also took pride in knowing he was your protector and wouldn't let anything bad happen but you also knew he needed to chill. "We're both going to get an ear full later," Shiu told you kissing your cheek when the three of you walked out to the car.

"Maybe a mouthful too." You teased and kissed both men with a giggle.

#💌incoming #tw: pregnancy #toji x reader #shiu x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #shiu kong x reader #jjk x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #kong shiu x reader #shiu jjk x reader #toji x you x shiu

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cosmicstarlatte · 9 months

Note

Havent made a request in a while so would it be fine if I requested:

MC punishing Belphie by giving oral to Beel infront of him?

-BelphiesMeanDom

Hi BelphiesMeanDom!! ^^ I hope you've been doing great!! ♡ I was so excited to do this one!!!!!!!!! 💕 tysm for the request! ♡

nsfw 18+ only mdni

Lessons // bj (face fuck), cum in mouth, cucking belphie lol, beel x gn reader

"This isn't fair! I'll be good! I'll do it next time!!!" Belphie whined, pact-commanded to sit still next to you & Beel on his bed. Belphie's throbbing cock stood tall & swollen, leaking pre-cum down his length while you continued to suck his twin brother off. You were nestled comfortably between Beel's legs, your knees cushioned by their rooms soft carpet.

You let go of Beel's cock with a small pop & glanced at Belphie, continuing to stroke his brothers fat cock, never losing rhythm. Beel whimpered quietly at the loss of your warm mouth.

"What's not fair is you making sweet Beel do my laundry when I asked you to do it. Seems like he deserves a reward." You returned your attention to Beel, running a slick tongue up & down his cock, eliciting a small groan from him. He instinctively pushed his hard large cock into your face wanting more.

"Beel what the fuck!" Belphie turned his attention to his brother, "You can't do this to me!" He spat shifting into his demon form, still unable to do anything as he sat frozen in place watching the lewd show in front of him.

Normally, Belphie didn't mind sharing you with his brother. Sometimes willingly choosing to just watch when he didn't fully feel up for tag teaming you. But this time was different; you paid him no mind whatsoever & he couldn't even touch himself. At least let him do that.

Beel hummed & spared a guilty glance at Belphie before your soft voice caught his attention once more.

"Beel, look at me. Not him." You batted your lashes up at him, fondling his balls with one hand, using the other to tightly grip & stroke his girthy cock. "You do want me to continue, don't you baby?"

He let out a content sigh as you ran your tongue along his slit, collecting the salty drops of precum that beaded at the top. Beel nodded as he gave in to you, grabbing his cock & gently smacked his fat pink tip against your swollen wet lips asking for more, "F-feels good...please."

"Hey, come on! " Belphie cried out.

"Ignore Belphie baby, you know he needs to learn his lesson," you cooed, massaging his thigh & pressing more kisses to his pretty pink tip, "just enjoy this okay?"

Beel moaned as you finally swallowed him whole again, warm wet tongue sliding against every vein, making his nerves jump with pleasure. He threw his head back & gripped the sheets as you bobbed your head up & down, cheeks hollowed taking his entire massive length. Your moans vibrated around him, making him feel dizzy from how good it felt.

"...So good...need more." He panted, placing a large hand behind the back of your head as he stood up from the bed, his cock slid further deep down your throat, making you gag & tears well up your eyes as your nose pressed against his pelvis.

"Mmffh—!?" your eyes widened in surprise & before you knew it he placed his other hand on your head & held you firmly in place. "S-sorry— can I — ?" He breathed out as he slid out your mouth before snapping his hips, pushing his cock back in & filling your throat.

"—haah!" Beel repeatedly bullied his cock into your mouth, grunting & losing himself at the sweet delicious warmth of your tight throat. You breathed hard through your nose as you looked up at him with hearts in your eyes, (pleasantly) being used aggressively by the normally sweet demon. The two of you completely ignored Belphie who continued to whine in the background, you both couldn't really be sure nor bothered with whatever he was saying.

"Ahh so close~ n-need to cum, please" his hips stuttered & your fingers dug into him, helping him push his entire length down your throat.

"F-fuck! I'm, I'm cumming!" He moaned & panted heavily as you felt his cock spurt warm ropes of cum down your throat. You eagerly kept bobbing your head up & down for more as he whimpered & continued bucking his hips into you.

"S-sensitive!! R-really good! Ah-! Cumming again!"

You felt Beel cum once more, emptying the rest of his balls. You gasped for air as he slid his softening cock out, watching as he groaned & shuddered falling back onto the bed. You licked your lips clean for any precious essence of his, just in case.

The two of you heard soft panting & glanced at a flush faced Belphie. His own milky release painting his stomach but his cock still furiously red with hints of purple, cock aching to be touched. You smirked, as he whimpered when you ran a finger along his swollen cock; coating both your finger & his tip with his precum before stopping.

"Next time, do as your told. C'mon Beel, lets get you something good to eat, I'm sure you're starving." You said as you fixed your hair.

Beel perked up at the mention of food & quickly buttoned his pants, fixing himself up. You latched onto his arm & started naming places to eat as the two of you headed out the room, but not before popping your head back in once again,

"You can move now Belphie."⬦

⬦You might also like: Choking Belphie︱Monster MC x Belphie︱Masterlist︱

#seriously i had so much fun w this one i got on this one so quick xD #obey me #obey me belphegor #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #obey me belphegor smut #obey me belphegor headcanons #obey me smut headcanons #obey belphegor x reader #obey me belphegor x you #obey me belphie #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹#✩ — the star: Belphie'sMeanDom!#obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x reader #obey me beel smut

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we-out-here-simping · 9 months

Text

Wasting Time.

(s.h. x gn!reader)

summary: given everything happening in Hawkins, Steve ends up pushing you away too far.

word count: 6k+

warnings/tags: no pronouns used (gender neutral reader); no y/n used; sad; i dont plan on writing a part two to this; s4 stuff; insecure reader; death; loss; injuries; mention of steve's parents; ollie is the real mvp in this tbh; unresolved? yay;

a/n: based off of Lizzy McAlpine’s song, “..what are we?” This was meant to be below 2k. I fought it to keep it below 2k. I lost, immensely and pathetically so. but that's okay.

as for my other stuff, I truly don't know when I'll post it. I've got pretty important things I have going on in life and i really need to do well in a life altering test next year so everything else is on the back burner rn. sorry to those who are really looking forward the next parts but don't u worry I will post them ;)

my masterlist

You shouldn't be at the store alone.

Considering the recent murders in Hawkins. You really, truly shouldn't be alone.

It isn't like you wanted to be. But the owner of the store you worked at did not necessarily give two shits about you. Refusing to pay you if you didn't show up for a few days. So, it isn't like you had much of a choice.

You sat on the rickety old swivel chair, that your asshole boss wouldn't change. The news was playing non-stop in the background– never in your entire life have you had the news channel on for so long.

The new chief of police was being interviewed by the reporters, telling the viewers to stay calm and assuring that they had it all under control. It didn't help to ease your mind.

You were not calm. Not one bit.

With each movement you made, the rusty metal of the chair groaned underneath you.

You were thinking of calling him again.

You rotated a little. The chair screeched again.

Why hadn't he even bothered to call you back yet?

Your leg bounced. The metal creaked.

Frustrated, you abandon the stupid chair with a pathetic scoff. Opting to just sit on the counter, facing away from the door. You gripped the edge of the surface, teeth gnawing at your lips as you looked at his jacket draped atop the chair you were occupying just seconds ago. His jacket.

What if he didn't want you to call him? Your grip tightened.

You haven't heard from your boyfriend since thursday.

You both had planned to go out on friday— the boy hadn't exactly told you where he had planned for you two to go. He had instead told you to, “Wear something cute like you always do. Bring Ollie with you if y’wanna and I'll pick you up from yours at 5?”

You had bought a new outfit, a couple weeks prior. you had put all your last month's salary into it. Your favourite colour.

You did your hair, a little bit of your face as well. Looking in the mirror, you had looked….. nice.

Something about that realisation had conjured up a lump in your throat. It was rare that you considered yourself good looking. Which is probably why you barely ever dressed up. But at that moment, as you looked in the mirror, a smile grew on your face, one that couldn't be contained.

You couldn't wait for Steve to see you.

You were ready before the clock even hit 4:35.

You waited. No sign of him.

When the clock hit 5:15, you went out onto your driveway, your dog, Ollie following behind you. You waited, pacing the concrete.

6:05, you were sitting on the stairs infront of the door, your dog's head on your lap. You waited.

6:45, your shoulders were slumped, your own head rested on your knees. Ollie napping beside you. You waited.

7:27, it was dark, Ollie whined to go back in. your eyes stung a little. But you scratched him behind his ears and decided to wait out just a little more.

When the clock hit 8:00, you finally got up, dusting the dirt and dust off your brand new clothes. Blinking back the salty tears, you quietly went back to your room after giving your dog his food and water. You changed into your ugly PJs, not bothering with anything else, as you buried yourself in your blankets.

Soon, you heard scratching on your bedroom door, your dog waiting to be let in.

You smiled with a sniffle, letting him jump onto the mattress with you despite your mom’s strict rule to not let the dog onto beds, sofas or carpets. the dog whined a little before laying next to you.

Ollie loved Steve. They had not exactly started on the right foot when Ollie almost bit the boy when you had tried sneaking him in one night. But after some time, they both warmed up to each other– to the point where it became common for Ollie to tag along with you and Steve on dates.

“I'm sorry bud”, you stroked the fur on his head, "i know how much you like hanging out with him." He whined again, warm tongue licking your fingers.

You knew he didn't really understand, a dog couldn't understand insecurities and the utter disdain of being stood up by someone you loved. Yet here he was, sharing your sorrows and wordlessly warming up your blues. Not there because he empathised with you or pitied you but there because he loved you.

The next morning when you woke up, you went immediately to your bathroom, to try and clean the mess that you hadn't the previous night.

Your eyes were red and puffy. You did look like someone who cried themself to sleep. You tried to scrub it all off, not even bothering with being gentle with your poor skin.

You didn't feel pretty when you looked in the mirror now. You felt pathetic.

“Honey!” your mom shouted from the kitchen, downstairs.

“Yeah, coming”, you shouted back as loudly as you could– which wasn't very loud at all.

As you climbed down, you were met with Ollie, tail wagging, nails clicking against the floor.

“Would just not take the breakfast from me”, your brother commented, handing you the dog bowl that was filled with Ollie’s food, “What a dramatic son of a bitch.... literally”

The dramatic son of a bitch in question, looked up at the two of you with big round eyes, tongue out, drool spilling out on the floor. You held up a finger, the dog immediately sat down– wagging tail sweeping the floor behind him. You finally put the bowl down and told the dog to dig in.

“Did you make him sleep in the bed again?” your mother spoke from behind her magazine.

“Why would I do that?” you lied as you refilled his water bowl.

“Because when I came to call you for dinner last night, he was sleeping on your bed, with you.”

“Oh”, a sheepish expression over your face, “I'll clean the bedsheets, okay?”

“and why did you skip dinner–”

Your mother thankfully got interrupted by the loud sound of the front door opening, followed by quick footsteps. “Did you check the news?”, your dad panted, he moved towards the tv in the living room, not bothering to take off his running shoes.

“No, dad. It's only you who is boring enough to watch the news”, your brother’s joke landed flat.

“What happened?”, your mother asked, brows furrowed.

“A Hawkins student was found dead.”

The bell above the door rang, you turned to look at the customer and you felt as if your heart had hit a rib.

There was Steve Harrington, bursting in through the doors, wearing clothes you'd never seen him in before.

He wasn't alone. The boy was accompanied by Dustin Henderson, Max Mayfield, Lucas and Erica Sinclair, Robin Buckley, and Nancy Wheeler. Most of them looked to be covered in dust, grime and worse.

They, without looking in your direction, broke into groups of two, one led by the older girls and the other by Steve, moving frantically through the aisles to get what they needed. It must have been an emergency. Considering all the recent happenings, it might be.

After a few minutes, the group led by Nancy and Robin stood infront of the counter and you started billing everything. A couple minutes later, the group led by Steve joined them as well. It is when they are pouring the stuff onto the counter when Steve finally notices that it's you.

His movements stuttered a little as if he'd just remembered that you worked here and he opened his mouth to say something but closed it before anything could come out.

The silence was awkward and deafening– the others definitely noticed. The only sound that came was the beeps of the scanner. You wondered if Steve had told them about the both of you.

When you moved to put everything in a bag, Steve stepped a little closer to help with putting all the stuff into the grocery bags, it is then that you noticed the boy's skin.

The skin which you knew to be soft to the touch was covered in dirt. Slashes and cuts wound around his neck, a piece of dirty cloth peeking from under the hem of his camo shirt. Blood.

You didn't realise you were frozen stuck until you heard him clearing his throat.

You realised that that the boy had already paid the total, the crumbled up cash placed on the counter. The rustling of the grocery bags alerted you that were moving to leave.

“S– Steve?” your voice came out an unsure whisper.

They all stopped. He looked over his shoulder, then back to his friends, “You guys go on”, he said to them, handing the two bags he was holding to Lucas and Dustin, “ I'll be out in a minute” They silently nodded before leaving to get into a van.

You spoke up when the bell above the door rang on the door closing, “Wh– what is happening?”

He stood across from you, on the other side of the counter, not making any efforts to come closer as he normally would– maybe hoping that you wouldn't see the wounds that you had already seen. “Nothing”, he cleared his hoarse throat, “I'm– I'm sorry for friday–”

Sorry? Is that all you get?

“You're covered in blood and dirt”, you pointed out.

“Trust me it just looks worse than it actually is”, he let out a dry chuckle.

“Whose van is that?” your vision flickered to the winnebago parked infront of the store.

“A friend’s.”

“Which one?”

“Munson.”

“Munson? Like Eddie munson? Have you heard the news?--”

“Yeah I have”, his words came out quick, “and it isn't him.”

“How are you so sure?” your eyebrows drew together.

“I just.. “, he paused, “I just am.”

“And how did you get those? '', you said, nodding to his wounded neck. You wanted to touch him, to hold him, but there was still a counter between the two of you, and closing that distance felt.. wrong like you weren't supposed to do it.

“I got in a fight.”

“With what, a barbed wire?” it came out snappier than you had intended. You really tried to not hold his face in your palm.

“No”, his tone grew more frustrated with every question you asked.

“Then who?”

“No, why do you–”

“Cuz I'm– I'm worried about you Steve.” you interrupted to continue your rambling, “You could get like– tetanus or shit–”

“Hey, hey”, for a second you thought he was going to hold your face like you wanted to do to him, instead he placed his palm on your shoulder, “I’m fine, okay? I don't want you to be worried about me.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” you whispered. “I just want you to tell me what's happening.” his hands fell back to his sides. “Just let me in”

“Nothings–”

“No! Something is happening”, you interjected, angry, worried, “Okay? I know. I know you don't always tell me everything. And that's fine, y'know– I thought you’d tell me when you felt like telling me but don't–” you take a quick breath, slowing down your quick words, “Don't– do you not trust me enough to tell me?”

“I do. But there isn't anything to tell you”, he tried his best to shrug while trying not to pull on the scabbing of his bloody torso– he held back a wince, “Nothings happening.”

There’s a beat.

You can tell he’s lying.

“Why didn't you show up on friday then?” you barely give him a couple seconds to answer before continuing, “God, when I heard someone had died that night, I– “ you stopped before he could hear the quiver of your voice, you gulped. “I called you fifteen times”

“I was at work”

“I went there the next morning to check– it was only Keith there. Told me you'd left already." He opened his mouth before closing it up again.

“Why are you lying to me?”

“And what is Nancy doing with you–” you hated that you were jealous, you never wanted to be that person. Hell, you and Nancy were almost friends in high school. But you couldn't lie and say that it didn't hurt to see them together right after he had bailed on you.

“Well if you noticed, it isn't just me and her, y’know. No need to be jealous–”

“Yeah, I will be jealous, okay? I will be jealous if you start hanging out with your ex and start ditching our dates–”

“I didn't ditch you–”

“I waited for three hours steve. You didn't even call me after or give me heads up. And you already know about everything that's happening in town, so I'm sorry I was worried shitless and you didn't even pick up my calls. And now you're with all these people– which is fine– they’re your friends but your ex is a part of these people. And you're bleeding and definitely wounded, and you won't tell me anything.”

“I will tell you okay, I just–”

“So, not now?”

“I'm running a little late–”

“To what?”

“I'll tell you later okay?”

“When?”

“Just later! Okay? I need to go and you're wasting my–”he stopped himself, seemingly having dug himself a hole. He quickly tried to correct himself, “I need to–”

Your heart had surely stopped, “What did you just say? I'm wasting your time?” tears pricked your eyes, “Is that what this is? A waste of time? Is that what the last eight months have been for you?”

“You know I didn't mean it like that”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I didn't– I ….”, he trailed off. The horn beeped and you heard a muffled shout for Steve's name in Dustin's voice.

You sniffled, “are you gonna get those taken care of at the hospital?” you referred to his wounds, your voice was suddenly so much quieter.

“....yeah”, he said after a moment– lying.

You nodded. “You still need to clean it up and”, you picked up rubbing alcohol, a painkiller bottle from the shelf behind you and some bandages, “bandage it.. ‘til you go to the hospital.” you tossed them over to him.

The horn of the winnebago blared. Steve looked back at the door, he reached for his wallet but you stopped him, “you don't need to. It's fine.” Steve heard you sniffle again.

“Baby–”

“For the record… it wasn't a waste of time for me", your voice cracked, “But I'm really sorry if I wasted your time.”

He stepped closer, shaking his head a little but you weren't looking up, eyes trained on the grain of the wooden counter, trying your darndest to not let the tears fall.

“You should go now.”

“honey–” the horn blared.

“Just go, Steve.”

You only dared to look up when you heard the bell above the door ring. Your vision was blurry as you watched the vehicle drive away.

Honestly, you get it. you understand.

You understand if the guy you loved wasn't willing to let you in. And despite how much it hurt, you couldn't keep him to yourself. You weren''t sure what this entire thing meant. Did you just indirectly say that it was over? Did you want it to be over? Were you willing to let it be over? To let him go?

“C’mon”, he stood at your door with expectant eyes.

You scoffed before looking back at the clock— your parents werent coming home until another half an hour, “alright fine”, you gave in.

After you put your shoes on, you reached for the door handle to shut the door behind you but there was Ollie standing right on the threshold, tail wagging. The dog gave a soft ruff, looking up at you with expectant eyes.

“Please don't bring him along too.”

You smirked, “Ollie you wanna come for a walk?”, the boy beside you groaned playfully.

The dog barked happily before spinning around in circles. His nails clicked against the floor as he sprinted to where his leash and jacket were kept. “Alright, bud”, you moved to put Ollie's jacket on him and hooked the leash onto his collar.

The dog walked infront of the two of you. The sun had set and the three of you were walking under the warm yellow pavement lit up by the streetlights. Ollie would stop every now and then to sniff at a bush, tree trunk or lamp post.

“When will he stop third wheeling us?” Steve finally spoke up beside you.

“Never.”

“This was supposed to be a romantic walk in the snow and now he’s pooping and pissing all over the winter wonderland– wont be a white christmas anymore”

“Oh, shut up. You love him, I know it”

“Yeah, whatever”, he shook his head with a smile.

“By the way, to what do I owe the pleasure of a romantic walk?”

“Wha– ? babe, You say as if I'm not romantic”

“No, you are. But I thought you were going to that christmas party with your parents.”

“Yeah that was until my dad started being an asshole after too much egg nog. So, I booked it”, he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry Steve”

“Eh, it's okay– Jesus Christ, Ollie, how much territory are you gonna mark, boy?’

“Steve..”, your fingers reached for his palm. You both stopped, he looked down at where your hands were intertwined before giving it a squeeze.

“I'm okay. Okay?”

You look at him for a bit. Despite wanting to, you dont push further. You squeezed his hand back, “okay.” his shoulders relaxed.

You started walking again, pulling yourself further into the boy's side, resting your cheek on his shoulder. It dawned on you then that you had forgotten to wear any jacket or sweater and now you were freezing.

“I’m cold”, you whined through your smushed cheek, the boy chuckled.

“Of course you are. You don't wear one, but make sure the dog’s wearing a jacket– great priorities babe”

“Well, I have you, don't I?” you said, giving him your biggest puppy eyes and the most over-exaggerated frown.

“Yeah, “ he sighs, handing you the leash he was holding, “you do.” He took off his jacket he was wearing over his his fuzzy sweater and helped you put it on. “Better?” he gestured towards the leash to take it back.

You returned it and nodded with a proud grin, “you've fallen under my trap”

“Yeah? what trap?” he muses while smoothing down the crinkles in his thick sweater.

“This…..”, you smirked, “is mine now”, you declared, pulling the material tighter around you.

“Oh, no! The jacket stealing trap! What will I ever do?” he brought his to both his cheeks, shaking his head in pretence worry. You laughed.

“Y’know…”, he started– the corners of his mouth curling up, “I would give you all my jackets if you…… Kiss me?”

“Oh, yeah? That depends…”, you crossed your arms, “How many jackets do you have?”

“Oh, so many– like a million” he shrugged. Both your steps slowed down to a halt. “Billions….. gazillions”

“Wow, babe, that's a lot of kisses”, you moved in a little closer to him.

The leash in Steve's hand tugs accompanied by Ollie whining, the dog came closer to the two of you who were leaning into each other. The dog started pulling on Steve's jeans.

“Hey! Dickhead, I'm having a moment here”

“Hey! don't call him a dickhead”, you admonished.

“Well, he’s acting like a dickhead.”

You glared at him.

“What? We were about to have a lovely romantic kiss before he so gracefully interrupted”

“Why do you have a rivalry with my dog?”

“He’s my arch nemesis”, he said with narrowed eyes directed towards the puppy.

You playfully rolled your eyes before taking the leash from Steve's hand and walking ahead. You laughed as you said, “Oh, please, you're just jealous because I love him more”

“I’m not jeal– what did you just say?”

“Wh– what?” you stopped in your track before turning around, brows furrowed.

“Oh, you just said something”

“What did I–”

“You said you love him more than you love me. That implies you love me.” he explained, walking closer to you. “You said you love me”, he stated with a shy smile as he stood directly infront of you.

“.. did I?” heat crept up your cheeks.

“Yeap, it was loud and clear. Even Ollie heard it. Right bud?” the dog barked in response as if actually had a clue of what was going on in the conversation.

“Oh, so now youre both working together? You know what? yeah, well, so what? I said it. I love you. You got a problem with that?”

“No… I'm pretty okay with it actually”

“Just okay?”

“More than okay. Perfect. Infact, I love you too.”

A shy smile grew on your features, same on his. The two of you leaned in but stopped mid-way when Ollie ruffed. You groaned, pulling away before saying with a stern voice, “Ollie, sit.”

“Little shit, only listens to you”, the boy infront of you mutters as the dog settled down and sat down. You glared at Steve. “Sorry”, he apologized, his head hanging low.

“Now, where were we?” you pull him in by grabbing a fistful of his fuzzy sweater, your lips slotting against one another. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other helped tilt your head. You too held his face back, the other hand snaking down to his waist where the fingers hooked through the belt loops.

You pulled away when his movements started to become a little faster and his hand started moving lower, “Okay, okay. I… its getting late– my parents are gonna be here soon”, you heaved.

“We were only getting to the good part” he whined through laboured breaths.

“Kissing me wasnt the good part?”

His eyes widened, “I– I mean”, he scoffed when he noticed the sly smirk on your face, “Stop messing with me.”

You tugged lightly on the leash to get Ollies attention who had started to dig a hole in the snow, “c'mon Ollie.” the dog’s tail wagged before he shook the snow off of him. The dog took the lead as the two of you ambled behind him.

Most of the walk back was holding hands silently, looking around at the christmas lights everyone in the neighbourhood had put up. When you were almost two houses away from yours, you spoke up, “you know. You could… stay the night?”

Steve looked at the pavement as the two of you walked, you looked at him with expectant eyes. He sighed before finally answering,“You know what? Sure.”

“But you would have to sneak out through the window later”

“Window? With these joints? I'm old.” he frowned.

“Oh, my poor, poor twenty year old boy”, you frowned back with a mock pitying look as you unlocked the main door and removed Ollie’s leash and jacket.

You and Steve wasted no time after that, running up the stairs to your room. As soon as the door was closed behind you, Steve was on you, plump and slightly cold lips moving fast against yours.

“Well, you're eager aren't you?”

“What? No…” he smiled against your skin, a giggle erupted from your throat as the sensation tickled you.

You were about to go back to attaching your lips to his when you heard a woof followed by the wood of the door scratching. The both of you sighed, foreheads touching.

“That little shit”, Steve huffed, “what an attention whore.”

You laughed through uneven breathing before moving off the door and then letting the dog in.

You heard the door downstairs opening and closing followed by your mother’s voice telling you she was home. You quickly went downstairs telling Steve and Ollie to stay quiet.

The boy took a seat at the edge of the mattress, the dog came to stand infront of him for a bit– tail wagging. The dog hopped on his back legs, front paws scratching at Steve's jeans. Steve reached down to scratch him behind the ears, “y’know Oliver. You're real cute and all. But you're one big cock block”

You really shouldn't have been alone.

It all happened so fast. One moment you were wallowing in your own self pity, the next moment, the lights were flickering and soon the ground started rumbling beneath you.

Now, as you were hiding underneath the counter of the store you worked at, the walls shook and ground rumbled. All you could think of was your family, dog and Steve Harrington.

Of course, the world decides to end today of all days.

There was so much smoke. All you could see was black, maybe your eyes were closed, maybe there was a blackout. But something was on fire– there was so much smoke. Your eyes were watering and your throat burned, coughs uncontrollably tearing from your throat. You felt light headed, soot stuck to your sweaty skin.

You really wanted to go home right about now.

Some rest sounded nice. Maybe some sleep.

You felt yourself succumbing to sleep, eyes drooping on their own accord. Breath slowing down. The corners of your vision went black.

It quieted down for a second. It wasn't too much for a second.

Sleep sounded like the perfect thing.

“Help!” a small terrified voice broke through the silence.

“Help!” it came again from somewhere outside the store. You somehow managed to will your muscles to move. You peeked from under the table and through your watery eyes you saw a boy who looked to be younger than you, flailing his arms in the air, limping.

Your body worked on its own accord. Muscles and bones working on autopilot. You crawled from under the counter, grabbed your water bottle and Steve's jacket. Your movements were jerky as you spilled the water onto the fabric, wetting it before putting it over your nose and mouth– a makeshift mask.

You ran. You left your safety bubble and ran. You ran despite the ash in your lungs, despite the shake of your fingers, lightheadedness, and the lactic acid settling in your tired muscles. In your disorientation and franticness, the stupid rusty chair hit your back, the heavy metal smacked hard against your skin but you still ran. You stumbled to open the door, shouted for him to run and pulled him in. You put your bootleg mask to the boy’s mouth.

The rumbling of the earth had quieted down a little; enough to allow you to help him walk over to the desk– your safe bubble.

You were just about to reach it when another wave hit, the ground shook and both of you lost your footing. The boy huddled to you, you moved to cover him to the best of your ability. The aisle next to you groaned and when you managed to look, it was swaying.

You tried to get away.

“Move!” you shouted, your voice barely audible over the rumble. The boy shook under you. In a last ditch effort, you pushed him away.

You tried to get away, trying to crawl away yourself, but the heavy metal shelves hit your spine. Your head smacked against the tiles.

You heard shouting, you weren't sure if it was the boy or you. Your ears were ringing. your limbs felt like jelly buried under the rubble. And you really didn't feel like you could get up. You couldn't really see anymore, the darkness from the corner of your vision had finally spread.

It hurt. It hurt so much that you weren't sure where it hurt or if it was still hurting. You tasted metal, felt a trickle run down the nape of your neck. You felt a little cold. The boys voice came in and out, none of the words truly registering in your brain.

God, you really missed your bed.

You missed ollie. You wished you could pet him again, give him his favourite treat, help him sneak into a bed again.

You missed your parents and your brother. What wouldn’t you do to have one more dinner together.

You missed steve. How you wished you could go back to that winter evening when you fell asleep in his warm arms. When you’d held his hand. You really wanted to hold his hand, hold him close, kiss him.

You felt fingers wrap around your wrist. “I'm gonna try to pull you out”, you barely heard the young boy say through a lumpy throat, you felt a tug on your arm. Pain shot through you. He pulled again, You didn't move. A scream of pain ripped from your chest.

“No!” you screamed, words coming out all slurred up. “No, stop! Just hide under the table and call the ambulance when it's over!” you still couldn't see.

“But–”

“It's okay! You’ll be okay, Ju-- just go!”

“I'm not– your– you're bleeding”, he gripped your shaking palm, “J– Just stay awake!”

“No, Go!” you tried your best to shout but it came out as only a whimper.

The warmth left your palm, you sighed in relief. You really didn't want a kid to see you dying.

A few seconds later, you felt a pressure on the side of your head, a hit of a familiar scent hit you– Steve's cologne. Steve?

“Steve..?”

The box in your hand was as heavy as lead as the lady led you through the Hawkins high gym which had now been turned into a makeshift infirmary for the people who had been affected by the earthquake.

You didn't remember much from the night of the earthquake, you remember falling and hitting your head, the pain and someone holding your hand. Your delirious brain in its haze had convinced you that it was Steve's warm hand. That he had come back and held you while the ground shook. The carbon monoxide poisoning had truly got to you.

Much to your delusional brain’s dismay, It was when you woke up a day later; your parents told you it had been infact a boy a few years younger than you. You later found out that the young boy– Andy, although overall fine, had broken his leg. He and his family packed everything up and moved out of town a week later.

Your muscles were still sore. The stitches and the bandaging over the big gash on your back was tight around your ribs. You had also acquired a wound on the side of your head and though you had bled, you were lucky enough to not bleed to your death or die of a haemorrhage. The paramedics had to shave off a part of the back of your hair to be able to apply the gauze properly. And you were a little embarrassed about it– you guessed you'd have to shave it all off now. You weren't sure how long you'd be willing to wear your brother old, musky baseball hat– you also weren't sure if it was a good idea to put that abomination anywhere near a wound.

"seems like you have clothes and blankets; that one", she pointed to a table with heaps of clothes piled on top of it. They looked to be freshly donated as they were in the middle of being neatly folded by--

"Steve, take these as well, will ya'?" the women beside you said.

He looked up, stilling for a second, “Hey.”

"oh, you seem to know each other. swell!" she clapped her palms before leaving the two of you alone.

“Hey… I uh– I came to donate these”, you put the cardboard box on the table infront of him, “Its uh– its mostly blankets”

“Oh, okay.”

“I– I have a couple more boxes in the car.”

“Okay.”

The walk to your car was a silent one, a little awkward. Surely, your last interaction playing in his head as well. As you weaved through the people, you noticed Dustin Henderson, limping as he gave water to some of the patients. And you had already noticed the scars on steves neck. You really wanted to ask what happened.

“Is everyone in your family okay?” he spoke up shyly, clearly trying to ease the tension even a bit.

“...yeah,”

My brother can't hear out of his left ear anymore.

“Yeah, everyone…”

My dog died.

“Everyones fine.”

“Are you fine?”

You nodded quickly.

You really didn't want to tell him about the giant bruise spread across your back and torso. You didn't want to tell him about the gash on your back or the bandages hiding under your baseball cap. You certainly did not want to tell him about how you were stuck in that rubble for hours with a kid holding your hand, while you had thought that it had been him in your half-conscious state.

“What about you?” you echoed, “Your– your neck?”

“Yeah, yeah– uh.. I’ll be fine.”

Your chest tightened, you swallowed. How did small talk become so hard?

The two of you approached your car, you popped open the trunk, and there were three more well-taped boxes waiting.

You picked one up. “Here, let me–” he picked up the other two. Both of your tried your best not to wince at the strain. “Wow this is a lot”, a half-minded comment as he slammed the trunk.

“Yeah, um– I mean, these people need it more. Plus, it would just be easier to give it away, anyway since we--”, you cut yourself off, trying to pretend you hadn't said anything.

“What?”

You look away silently, blinking, “um– how are you holding up?”

“Yeah, you have already asked me– I'm– I'm sorry… are you– what do you—” he stopped. You looked anywhere but him. It clicked.

“You…. you're… moving, aren't you?” he murmured slowly and as if saying it too loudly would make it real. You nodded.

“Why?”

“Why? Steve– look around. Everyone is moving. People are dying left and right. People going missing, never being found again?And now what, Murders?! My parents are convinced that it is the end of the world.”

“But it isn't– It was just an earthquake”

“An earthquake does not give you wounds around your neck Steve. Ever since the Byers kid disappeared, my dad has been planning to move… and then that night I– I almost ....”, you trailed off, not wanting to tell him more especially after you had just lied to him that you were fine. “I barely made it.”

“What?”

You took a shaky breath in, Steve's chest tightened. “I should–”

“When are you leaving?”

“.. today. Right now. This was the last thing I had to do.”

After that he quietly walked the rest of the way, helping you put the boxes where they needed to be put. As he did it all, his eyebrows were pulled together, the crease between them deep-- what was he thinking? you wondered.

Once everything was done, he finally spoke up, “Can I walk you back? To your car? For one last time, please?” the desperation in his tone was so clear and it made you want to cry.

You opened the door, Steve's jacket draped over the passenger seat. The piece of clothing that probably saved you. The thick material had stopped you from bleeding to your demise. You really had to thoroughly wash it to get rid of the stain. But you couldn't justify throwing it away.

It no longer had the bloody stain, or the smell of smoke in it. However it also didn't smell like Steve anymore.

“Here–”, you leaned into the car to pull it out, fighting back the tears and the waver in your voice, “your jacket… don't worry I cleaned it up”, you held it up between the two of you.

Steve, pushed the material back in your direction, “Keep it. It's yours, remember? It's yours.”

"Considering everything….” you gulped, “I hope I'm not asking for too much", you took a deep breath before finally whispering, "can I hug you… please?"

It was a tight one. It was a desperate one. You hated that you smelled like antibacterial ointment and sweat. You buried your face deeper into his shirt– he smelled like medical gauze, and medicinal cream accompanied with a faint yet familiar scent of his hair products, his cologne and that distinct scent of Steve.

You pulled away, words sticky in your throat, “Take care. Don't die. I'm…..”, you swallowed, “I'm gonna miss you."

You didn't wait for a response, you quickly sat in your car and drove away, not even stealing a look from the rear-view mirror. You only let the tears fall when you had turned the corner to your home.

It isn't like you had a choice of whether or not you were staying. But You hate that he didn't stop you. You hate that he didn’t call your name, to see your face one last time. You hate you still had his jacket in your hands, you hate how tightly you were gripping it.. You hate that there were tears in your eyes. You hate that there was a sob in your ribs. You hate that you said that you were going to miss him. You hate you imagined a life with him, holding hands on romantic walks.

You hate all that. But you don't hate him. God, it'd be so much easier if you hated him.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader angst #stranger things #steve harrington x reader fluff #stranger things 4 #steve harrington x gn!reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington angst

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copperbadge · 6 months

Text

[ID: A photograph of a corner of my living room; in front of a white screen, a fake Christmas tree is covered in ornaments. The tree itself is bare branches with small white bulbs on it, and lest you think this is rather sad looking, know that I love this tree because despite its creepiness and slight instability, it is the perfect way to show off my ornaments.]

The tree is trimmed! And with that, we bring National Clean Your Home Month to a close.

Dearborn was unimpressed by my tree-trimming and, after one of the ornaments suffered a tragedy, hid in the coats. She is our resident Grinch, but she's cute.

[ID: Two photos; left, my hand with palm open, holding a baroque crescent moon ornament. It is in several pieces after I dropped it on the ground, but I'm pretty sure I can fix it. Second image, my coat closet, with two large fabric bins on the floor; sitting on the top bin, mostly hidden by a number of jackets and hoodies, Dearborn the tortie peers up pensively at the camera.]

I didn't get everything done on my cleaning list, but that's okay; I did get a lot done, and I realized stuff like "clean the bathroom" needs to wait anyway, since the HVAC system is in the bathroom and I'll just have to clean after that gets replaced in any case. Meanwhile, I've decluttered, hung shelves, ridded myself of a bug infestation, organized the tupperware, cleaned out the closet, learned how to use a carpet shampooer, and more.

Thank you all for a) participating or b) tolerating my antics or at least c) quietly blacklisting the tag during NaClYoHo; this was the fifth year of the event, and we had definitely our largest turnout of participants yet. I hope you all feel great about the work you've put in and the accomplishments you made!

Remember: if you can't do a great thing, do a something.

Keep the Salty Pirate in your heart year round, and I'll see you next year for Salty Pirates 6: The Winter Scrubber.

#naclyoho #national clean your home month #christmas #dearborn and polk

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marvelsswansong · 2 years

Text

I could be your new spring

summary: you spend an entire year doting after Billy Hargrove, who toys with and eventually breaks your heart. You're sobbing by yourself on a cold spring day when someone coughs and awkwardly offers you his jean jacket - it's Eddie Munson, staring at you with such foreign yet genuine warmth.

"I wasted an entire year on him, Eddie. One whole year I'll never get back." "I could be your new spring, if you'd like."

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, toxic and complete asshole Billy x fem!reader, best friends Robin/Nancy/Steve, hurt to comfort, heavy angst, fluff towards the end, happy ending dw, oneshot

☆ word count: 5.3K+ (whew) ☆

-> a/n: read this as a submitted ask on another writer's account and I knew I had to write it! I hope you angels enjoy <;3 Reader's discretion is advised that Billy is really mean in this and treats reader very poorly.

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Spring in Hawkins was cold, but nothing was colder than Billy Hargrove.

He'd strolled into Hawkins High with his slicked back hair and ocean scented cologne on the first week of August, and the moment he'd picked up a book you'd dropped and winked at you - you were never the same again.

Steve didn't like him from the outset. Your best friend was quick to pull you backwards from Billy the moment the blonde boy winked at you, shooting you a worried glance and warning you that he didn't like "the look of the new guy." Nancy had muttered agreements behind him, and normally, you would've listened to your friends in a heartbeat.

But you were instantly entranced. Billy was awfully charming. Cocky, the type to know that he was handsome and to exploit it. He walked with a certain city swagger, one which only a surfer boy from California could carry, the musk of sandalwood and salty sea water emanating from his copious jackets. You were far too shy to speak to him properly - particularly when crowds of popular girls and boys followed his every move - so you got accustomed to admiring his features from afar.

Steve pretended to hurl a few weeks later into the first semester when you'd confessed on a late night drive that the new kid from California had caught your eye. Your best friend's eyes widened in shock, irises burning with disgust as he looked over from the steering wheel.

"You know as your best friend I support all your decisions but Hargrove?" he spat out, his face scrunched up. "That asshole has two brain cells, max."

You rolled your eyes playfully, kicking your legs up on the dashboard.

"Of course you wouldn't like him, Steve. People are saying he might be coming for your 'crown' as the King of Hawkins High." you teased, poking him in the shoulder. That made his lips twist into a scowl, though his sour expression quickly melted into a soft grin when looking back over at you.

"Well, whatever the case, he's bad news. Just stay away, okay?"

He muttered it so tenderly as he pulled over in front of your house, speaking to you the same way he spoke to the kids when trying to protect them. Smiling, you waved his concerns off, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

"Relax, Steve, it's just a puppy crush. I'll be fine."

And it probably would've been, had the seating chart for your biology class not been shifted the Monday after. On top of that, a new group assignment was on the agenda. You were jittery with pure anxiety when you'd walked into the classroom that day to see Billy sitting next to the spot you usually sat, his name written in cursive next to yours on the blackboard.

"Joanne, right?" he'd asked you, casting you the briefest glance out of the corner of his eyes.

"No, uh... my name's (Y/n)." you'd meekly corrected, bag slowly dropping to the floor as you refused to even match his gaze.

Billy paused then, eyes shifting to look you up and down before a smirk slowly appeared on his face.

You didn't know it at the time, but he'd been subtledly watching you. Sure, he'd already slept with a good amount of girls - girls more popular than you, girls who were outgoing and loud... Cheerleaders, class presidents, varsity athletes of the sort. It was good for status and for one night stands, but they reminded him too much of the girls in California.

A bit ditzy. Vapid. Superficial. Annoying as soon as the sex was over and the type to want him to 'hang' around afterwards and be domestic. It disgusted him - Billy Hargrove did not do domestic.

But you...

At first, he'd written you off as Steve's little friend. The quiet loser who was gifted the seat at the popular table because you and Steve had grown up with houses right next to each other's. He couldn't lie, a part of your appeal was how much Steve kept you close, eager to keep you away from Billy's reach.

But a bigger part of your appeal, Billy thought, was how different you were from the other girls who fawned over him. Whilst they would dress up and scream loudly for his attention during basketball games, you'd sit by yourself to the side with another girl - Billy believed her name was Robin - with a book and a shy smile on your face.

And whilst other girls tried to seduce and sweet talk him at every party, you stood by your friends, conservatively taking sips from your red solo cup and avoiding Billy like the plague.

You didn't seek attention. You were a good girl, Billy noticed, the type that his father would scream at for him to find: quiet, dutiful, submissive. Gets all the homework done on time, volunteers at an animal shelter every weekend, plays the 'sober driver' for your friends on most night outs.

You're different, and to Billy, it feels like a challenge. A conquest to be won. Getting to piss off 'the hair' is just the cherry on top.

"...Is everything alright?" you meekly asked, noticing that he was just staring at you absentmindedly, not uttering a single word. Billy shook his thoughts away, a devious idea popping into his mind. He was going to toy with you - his little lamb - and you would be none the wiser.

"Everything's perfect. Just peachy, doll."

Becoming Billy's biology partner meant seeing him every two days. He reeled you in slowly during those boring lectures. He'd ask you nonsensical questions, just to get you talking and to have you move closer towards him when he'd complain not being able to read your notes. He'd purposefully mess up the experiments so you two would have to stay after class, your hands shaking as they guided his towards the correct vial.

The regular classes also gave him an excuse to pry into your life. Your hobbies, your friends, your likes and dislikes... The faux interest and 'small talk' stage of love, laid out one by one. He was toying with you and you were oblivious to it all, following dutifully behind him like a puppy.

"You're so different from most other girls here." Billy once said, running a hand through his hair. "You're so... Hawkins-esque."

Your pen paused mid-scrawl, eyes hesitantly peering up at the blonde boy with trepidation.

"Is that a... good thing? Or not?"

You were staring at him with so much hope, doe eyes overwhelming with unadulterated innocence that it made his gut churn with nausea.

"It's a good thing." he'd responded. And the moment you flashed him a brilliant smile in response, giggling softly under your breath, he knew you were hooked.

Hook, slink, reel.

-----------------------------------------

The end of summer came soon enough, also marking the end of the biology project. And as soon as the project was turned in, Billy went back to ignoring you. He dodged your friendly waves and greetings in the hallways, made it a point to sit as far away from you in class. You didn't think too much of it, wholly convinced that he was just busy preparing for the upcoming basketball championships.

Your friends weren't as convinced, with Nancy tapping your shoulder impatiently as you moped around your locker one chilly autumn day whilst hoping to catch a glimpse of Billy before third period.

"I don't think you should be hanging around Billy so much." she'd gently pleaded, lightly pulling at your lower arm.

"Hm?" you weren't really paying attention to her, head far too preoccupied with thoughts of Billy and his gorgeous head of curls.

"Billy Hargrove. He's an awful person, he's been taking advantage of you." she muttered quietly, gently smoothing over your hair.

Suppressing a sigh, you closed your locker shut and forced on a smile.

"I get why you and Steve think that Billy's an awful person but he's different around me, okay? Like when we're together, he's actually kind of nice to me." you breathed out, unsure if you were trying to convince your friend or yourself. "And yeah, maybe we're not talking all the time anymore, but... sometimes people are busy, okay, Nance?"

A look of pity spread across her face and you could feel the impending speech rolling in, making you throw your hands up to stop her.

"It's fine, okay? Just drop it."

She opened her mouth to argue but you were already walking away from her, heels frantically clicking against the floor.

And just as you were giving up hope, you were leaning against your car - red orange leaves scattered across the driveway, the smell of rain soaked grass tinting the autumn air - and Billy was back to winking at you in the hallways and asking you to tutor him after school.

He always arrived late and sometimes never even showed up (giving you vague apologies the next session), but you never minded. Especially not when he'd slouch in his seat, roll up the cuffs of his sleeves to expose his biceps and shoot you that charismatic wink.

"You're real smart, you know that? I could never get my fucking head around math." he'd once said, speaking up to the ceiling. Heat crept onto your cheeks at his compliment, butterflies fluttering in your abdomen.

"Thanks, Billy. I don't know, it's just... I work hard, I think that's it."

He hummed quietly, left hand reaching into his back pocket for a cigarette and a lighter, the sight of which immediately made you tense.

"Uh, I don't think we're allowed to smoke in here-"

Holding up his pointer finger to shush you, he lit the cigarette quickly before inhaling deeply, a slow exhale of toxic smoke being released from his wet lips.

"Relax, babygirl. We won't get caught."

All arguments died in your mouth when the word 'babygirl' reached your ears, a fuzzy haze settling over your confused mind. Billy noticed with an internal smirk that the nickname clearly got you flustered as you quickly uncrossed your legs under your skirt and began to stutter awkwardly, attempting to get back to the lesson at hand.

You were just too easy to control, he thought. Shy, goody two shoes, innocent disposition - on top of fierce loyalty that meant you'd never question him.

The perfect toy.

-----------------------------------------

By the time winter had begun to descend onto the town - blankets of white snow covering the grey pavement and barren trees lining the roads - it was undeniable. You were utterly, totally infatuated with Billy Hargrove.

It was the week before winter break when you were flicking snowflakes off from your jacket, shuddering in the cold before a familiar car rolled to a stop before you. It was Billy, lowering his window and asking you if you wanted a ride back home.

"I'm on my way to the mall, so as long as your house is that way-"

"Oh actually it isn't-"

"Great, then you can just walk from the mall. Now get in."

You shrugged, figuring that it would beat walking the extra fifteen minutes on foot in this freezing cold. Strapping yourself into the front seat, there was an awkward silence that hung in the air before you worked up the nerves to ask him the question that'd been plaguging your mind.

"Are you staying in Hawkins for the winter break?"

The truth was that the thought of not being able to see him for weeks on end over the winter break made your stomach twist with discomfort and sadness, even if the company Billy currently gave you was questionable. Weeks alternated between him doting over you, following you around and calling you sweet names, and then weeks of him ignoring or slyly insulting you in front of his friends.

It was incredibly confusing and frustrating. But there had to be something behind it all, you reasoned. Why you were the only girl that Billy kept around for the entirety of the school year.

At your sudden question, Billy pulled over his car, an unreadable expression on his face as he gave you an unceremonious shrug.

"Not sure. Why'd you ask?"

The seatbelt around your body suddenly felt too tight, the winter coldness seeping in through the heat being blasted in the car.

"I was just wondering if... you know, you're going to be around here in town we can like... hang out? I'll be working part-time at a cafe but other than that I'm quite fr-"

"Yeah, yeah, sounds great, babe." he dismissed you with a quick wave, but you were content so long as he called you babe.

His heart twisted with erotic satisfaction with the way you flashed him that hopeful smile, so kind and trusting, before you kissed his cheek and hopped out of the car.

You ended only seeing him once during the break: it was a complete accident too, not that you noticed. Him and his friends just happened to stroll into the cafe you worked at and you perked up immediately, all gloomy thoughts being washed away in an instant. He'd flashed you that charming smile, apologized for not calling - "things are crazy busy back home, you know?" - and you accepted it.

"Anyways, can I get these for free?" he'd asked, holding up a few bags of pastries up in the air.

"Sure."

Robin had watched the entire interaction play out from the back of the store and was quick to approach you as soon as they left.

"What did that asshole want?" she growled, side eyeing the direction where Billy had just left. You frowned at that as you re-adjusted your apron.

"You really have to stop calling him that, Robin."

"Why? He's the biggest asshole this town's ever fucking seen. (Y/n), he's been doing nothing but toying with you - treating you hot and cold, all over the place." she pleaded, following you around the store as you attempted to dodge the conversation. Noticing your silence and stern straightforward gaze, she sighed, cutting your footsteps off by standing in front of you. "I'm - Nancy and Steve too - worried about you. Billy's been nothing but horrible to you for almost two semesters straight and you still haven't cut him off-"

Robin jumped at the sudden loud sound you made when you slammed your serving tray down onto a nearby table, a shaky breath leaving your lips before you slowly re-composed yourself. You didn't even bother to look up at your best friend as you gathered up the stack of dirty plates.

"None of you have any idea what's actually going on. I get that you all worry, and I'm grateful that you all care, but this is between me and Billy, okay? There are just some things you three can't understand because you're just looking in from the outside." you hurriedly explained, anger bubbling to the top. "I just, I need-"

An uneasy sigh escaped your lips.

"I need you all to support me instead of fighting me all the time on things like this. Please."

Robin looked like she wanted to say more, hands clenched by her sides. But one hopeless look from you and she caved, shutting her mouth.

"Alright, fine. Just... be careful, okay?"

-----------------------------------------

It takes until spring time for you to finally see the truth.

All the memories of your friends warning you about Billy throughout the year now play like a broken record in your head. You're leaning against the chipped wooden wall of a huge surburban house, your frantic breaths coming out in white whisps of air.

It was a house party. You'd come along at the request of Steve and Robin but quickly lost sight of them when you saw Billy smoking with a few of his basketball friends by the balcony. All thoughts of having a great night by your best friends dissipated at the glorious sight of him sitting there, legs spread, his lips toying with the lit cigarette.

"I'll catch you guys around, okay?" you'd yelled over the music, pushing through the crowd before either of them could protest. Wiping your palms on your jeans, you carefully trodded towards the group of boys, feeling Billy's friends all turn their judgmental gazes at you.

"Hi Billy." you managed to whisper. He shot you half a glance, an amused smirk on his face which you mistook for genuine interest.

"Hey."

He turned around to continue his conversation with his friends, making your shoulders deflate in disappointment. You'd been after him for almost a year now and he couldn't even spare you more than one word? Suddenly feeling brave, you tapped on his shoulder again, to which he audibly groaned.

"Why the fuck are you still bothering me?" he spat out, eyes blazing with anger. It hit you then all at once, how you were never anything but gentle and kind with him, but he was at times so... unnecessarily cruel and mean.

"Why... why are you being so mean to me?"

The question slipped out of your mouth instinctively, unconsciously. The loud chatter amongst the basketball players stopped and Billy's posture shifted, his expression morphing from one of boredom and annoyance to... pure evil. He let out a long chuckle, blonde trussels of hair covering his eyes as his head shook with laughter.

"God, are you that fucking dense?" he growled, stubbing his lit cigarette against an ashtray.

He sounded angry. No, furious. His entire body was tense and your first instinct was to comfort him, one hand reaching out to him. But he was quick to grab you by the forearm and back you up against the wall, the loud house music now muted in your ears.

"You still don't get it, do you? What, I call you 'babygirl' and 'babe' a few times and hang out with you after school and you think I'm gonna get on one knee and propose? Huh? Think I’d go home with you to meet mommy and daddy?"

His friends bursted out into a chorus of obnoxious laughter at that comment, Billy's ego on fire as he leaned in even closer. At this proximity, you could count the freckles dotting his cheeks and smell the stench of cigarattes on his lips.

"Listen. You’re just a brainless slut who needs to learn her place. Maybe when you learn to shut up-" he growled, pausing ever so slightly to look down at your top. "Then I’ll fuck you, like the charity case you are."

He shoved off of you after that, hands already turning to his back pocket to light another cigarette.

"Now piss off."

And here you are now.

You don't really know how you managed to get out of that room - feet stumbling, chest heavy, heart crumbling in between pained gasps. What you do know is that the freezing winds clawing at your exposed skin feel like nothing compared to the crushing weight you feel on your chest.

Your legs practically give out from pure exhaustion and you fall down onto the front steps of the porch, head immediately falling to your knees.

You feel pathetic. You feel embarrassed. You feel angry.

And yet, above all, you feel heartbroken.

You can practically hear your best friends' responses in the back of your mind - "see, we told you!""you should've listened to us!". They're right, of course. They were right all along.

But the last thing you want right now is a lecture.

So even if walking back inside and finding Robin and Steve is the smart thing to do, you decide against it, gritting your teeth. It's freezing out here, sure, but you much prefer it to the sweltering, body to body heat of the house party raging inside.

You're not even sure how much time passes before you feel someone else's presence behind you. Your head is still in your lap, tears falling faster than rain, shaky hands grasping and ungrasping your knees in discomfort.

The figure awkwardly clears their throat, making you flinch and pick your head up. Your first immediate thought is that it's Billy, coming to take a victory lap and make you feel worse.

But it's not.

It's Eddie Munson. Infamous repeat senior and D&D enthusiast. You've shared, at most, two classes with him: but you always sat in the front and he always sat in the back, loitering and doodling into his notebooks. You know of him, but you've never really spoken to him.

Nonetheless, right now, he's standing in front of you, holding his hands up in a mock surrender.

"Relax, it's just me." He then lowers his hands ever so slightly, before moving to take off his jacket. "It's super cold out here, could I, uh-"

He gestures with his hands, indicating that he wants to know if it's okay to drape the fabric over your exposed shoulders. You nod slowly, the warmth in his eyes too fierce to decline. It feels foreign, you think, having someone look at you like that when Billy's never looked at you with any warmth.

Eddie grins at your response, moving to sit down next to you on the steps before carefully wrapping the jacket over your figure.

Warmth floods your body - much needed warmth - and you subconsciously find yourself burrowing further into the fabric. It carries a comforting, earthy smell: a mix of rain soaked dirt, fresh wood and a bit of weed. The weight's also nice against your shoulders, grounding you back towards reality.

"Thank you." you quietly mutter, cautiously peering up at his face. You don't really know what he's feeling - is it pity? Is it another prank? Is he out here to smoke and you just happened to be in the way? But he simply leans back, ring clad hands waving away your concerns.

"Nah, it's nothing. Least I can do, when this shithole town plunges into fucking Siberian winter every spring."

His joke makes you laugh a bit, tension loosening from your chest. He's practically a stranger to you but there's an inviting aura around him, a calm energy bubbling under the surface that makes you lower all your inhibitions.

It also helps, you suppose, that he's actually really attractive. Up close, you can survey his features much better under the dim house light hanging above. His well sculpted jawline, doe brown eyes, his slender fingers clanking with metal accessories as he runs a hand through his curly dark hair.

"So, uh... I know this is a dumb question but are you okay? I mean, relatively." he lamely adds, wincing at how he ends his question. Your eyes widen in alarm.

"D-did you see-"

"Billy fucking Hargrove being his usual douchebag self? Yeah." he counters, venom dripping from his voice. You bite your tongue, anxious at the prospect of having so many people witnessed that humiliating scene, which the metalhead seems to pick up on immediately. "But don't worry, not many people were looking. I just happened to be passing by. Promise."

He holds out a pinkie finger towards you, a boyish smile on his face. The gesture is kind of silly and immature, but his childlike joy is so contagious that you can't fault him for it, carefully wrapping your finger around his.

"I just... god, I feeling really fucking stupid right now." you confess, groaning into your hands. He clicks his tongue at that, raising his eyebrows.

"Miss straight A's, stupid? I hardly think so."

Lifting your head from your palms, you pause. Maybe it's the way he's handling you tonight - fragile, delicate, wrapping you in his jacket as if you're the most precious antique at a museum. Or maybe it's the way he looks at you so intently as you speak: nodding along to every word, smiling in between breaths, brushing his knees closer to you with every sentence exchanged.

But you feel safe. And as if you can tell him anything.

"If I tell you something, can you promise it stays between us?" you shakily ask, this time offering your pinkie finger towards him. His eyes switch between staring at your finger and your face, before he nods enthusiastically and wraps his finger around yours.

"Absolutely. I love secrets." he teases, making you roll your eyes.

"Okay, well... I know it's dumb but I... I really thought Billy liked me. I thought it all meant something, you know? All the time we spent together. Him calling me all those pet names. Him driving me back home that one time and promising to hang out with me over winter break..." you swallow nervously, toying with the zipper of Eddie's jacket. "The worst part is I really liked him. Even when he showed up late. Even when he ignored me."

You let out a shaky breath, sucking in cold air.

"And even right now, I can't find it in myself to totally hate him. I know that's pathetic." you curse, wiping away a stray tear angrily. Eddie shifts closer towards you at that.

"Hey, no, it's not pathetic at all. Stop being so mean to yourself. The only person at fault is Billy." he reassures you, his knees now brushing directly up against yours. His presence is quiet but comforting, a steady hand placed alongside your shaky ones.

"I wasted an entire year on him, Eddie. One whole year I'll never get back."

The statement hangs heavy in the air, your voice filled with pure grief and rage. You don't even realize you're crying again until his cool fingers brush against your cheeks, wiping away your tears tenderly as his eyes survey your face - hazel orbs burning with care and compassion.

"So fuck him. You start this year brand new, that's the whole point of spring, right? Cut Billy out completely and focus on spending time with people who love and care about you, people who actually know you. Whether that's King Harrington or Wheeler or a repeat senior/devil-worshipper with a jean jacket."

A giggle escapes your lips at his joke.

"And what could you possibly know about me, Eddie Munson?" you tease, sniffling. Eddie looks offended, placing a hand on his hcest.

"Hey, we might not have ever officially talked, but I'm more perceptive than I look!" he argues. "For example, I know that you like sunflowers and dogs. I know that you volunteer at an animal shelter every weekend and you prefer rainy days over sunny days. I also know that you're really sweet, smart and hardworking. But above all... I know that you're an incredible, super beautiful, once-in-a-lifetime girl who doesn't deserve to be wasting tears on a dickhead like Hargrove."

You blink slowly at the metalhead, not having expected such a heartfelt and detailed response. His final sentence lingers in the air as Eddie then awkwardly laughs, scratching his neck. He's staring at you, trying to gauge your reaction, internally panicking that he's just crossed the line.

"That's... the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." is all you can manage to say. Eddie blushes lightly at that, shooting you a small wink.

"Well, you deserve it."

Wiping at your wet eyes, you chuckle, hands gripping the wooden beams on the side as you shakily stand up.

"You wanna go back inside?" Eddie questions instantly, straightening up in a protective stance.

"Not really, to be honest. I'd rather be anywhere but the party right now." you confess, licking your lips to wet them. Eddie's eyes lights up at that, a mischevious smirk spreading on his lips.

"Then come with me. I drove here in my van, so I can drive you to your place. Or, even better, but only if you want, I can drive you to my hideout spot."

He's wiggling his eyebrows and teasing you, enticing you to join him in ditching this party. He extends one of his hands, waiting for you to take it, and you do instantly.

"That sounds great, Eddie."

The two of you shove through the crowds of drunk people relatively easily, the loud house music combined with your carefree laughter a heavenly sound to Eddie's ears. He can't believe you've just said yes, he can't believe the girl he's been silently crushing on for the past year has just agreed to sit in his van and go to his hideout spot with him-

Spotting Billy by the keg stand, a murderous rage fills Eddie's veins before he stops.

"What is it?" you question, confused. Eddie lets go of your hand, but not before giving your hand a comforting squeeze.

"Wait here for me for a bit, will you?"

Before you can even question what Eddie's going to do, he's walking away from you and making a bee-line towards Billy and his friends. You can't even make out what Eddie's saying over the music - all you see is Eddie saying something, Billy rolling his eyes and retorting something with an obnoxious smirk, before Eddie chuckles and throws a hard right punch at Billy's face.

The crowd around the two disperse, a chorus of "ooh" and "holy shit" erupting as Billy tumbles to the floor with a nasty thud. Eddie doesn't even look phased, a satisfied smile on his face as he turns around and walks up to you once more.

"Ready?" he asks you, holding your left hand again. You look back and see that Billy's been knocked out cold - which was surely going to bruise his ego for weeks to come. Shocked, you're speechless as you nod, not uttering a single word until Eddie's van door shuts behind you and the car pulls into the road.

"I'm sorry." Eddie then blurts out mid-drive. "If you're mad about me punching Billy, I totally understand, but I-I just had to do it, he hurt you and-"

You place a gentle hand on his leg, stopping him mid-rant.

"Eddie. I'm not mad at all. I was just silent because I was shocked that you'd punch THE Billy Hargrove for me."

Eddie chuckles at that, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, yeah. To be honest, I don't think there's much I wouldn't do for you, pretty girl."

Pretty girl.

You like that, you realize. It's wholly different from Billy's infamous 'babygirl'. Even better, it's genuine and believable coming from Eddie.

When the van eventually lulls to a stop, you stop him from getting out, hands desperately flying on top of his on the steering wheel. He glances at you, confused, before you swallow nervously.

"Did you, uh... mean what you said back there? About me being able to start over this year? A new spring and everything, without Billy?"

You're so close to him that you can individually count the droplets of water adorning his hairline from the spring rain, his lips suddenly mere inches from yours. Your eyes subconsciously flicker down to stare at his lips before quickly snapping back up to look into his eyes, a movement which doesn't go unnoticed by Eddie. He hides the revelation with a slow smile.

"I meant it wholeheartedly. You deserve a life without Billy. New year, new spring."

Eddie then slowly leans in, giving you ample time to back out. But your lashes flutter shut and he takes it as the sign to close the gap completely. His lips are slightly bitter and cold against yours, one of his hands flying up to cup your cheeks as you lean in even closer. He tastes like a mix of lukewarm beer and your peach chapstick, a tangy sweetness lingering in your mouth once you pull away.

"I could be your new spring, if you'd like." he teases lowly, brushing away strands of hair from your eyes. The affectionate gesture sends a chill down your spine, head fuzzy with adoration.

"I'd like that."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #billy hargrover oneshot #billy hargrove imagine #1k #2k

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 11 months

Text

[19:17]

Tags: Jeon Wonwoo x Fem! Reader, Reader wears glasses, glasses kink (???? Both Reader and Wonwoo are really into the other wearing glasses), voice kink, oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected piv sex, heavy praise (f. receiving), petnames and creampie.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

A throaty whimper is swallowed by Wonwoo's mouth as his hands drag along your sides. Making themselves at home on your thighs, his long fingers digging into your skin as your hips jolt up into him in search of any of friction. His erection dragging along your slick folds through his boxers.

You whine out when he pulls away from you. "Patience, baby," he laughs, the scratchiness in his voice prompting your walls to clamp down achingly around nothing. He reaches up to remove his glasses, but one of your hands shoots up to stop him, "Wait."

"Hm?" He looks down at you, waiting for an answer. God, his eyes look so pretty behind his black frames.

"Can you- can you keep them on?" You whisper.

The way he blinks at you is so cute, and you want nothing more than to slot your mouth over his again, but you resist. "You want me to keep my glasses on? Why?"

"They look- you look so good when you where them. You look so hot," you breathe in explanation. You watch your words wash over him and he contemplates them for a few long moments.

"You don't have to if-"

"Will you keep yours on too?" He asks, the further drop in his voice and the molten look in his eyes catching you off guard this time around.

"You want me to what?" Your brains supplies intelligently.

"Keep yours on too. You look so beautiful with them," he responds, nuzzling your neck and peppering it with kisses that send electricity down your spine to pool between your thighs, "So fucking hot."

"Okay," you whine readily, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and tugging him closer to you. He doesn't keep you waiting for long. Kissing his way back to your awaiting lips. Moaning into each other as his tongue snakes its way into your mouth.

"You don't have to-" his words are cut off with a choked groan when you tighten your grip on his flushed cock. Scorching and heaving in your hand. "Hush. You know I want to," you tease, looking up at him through your lashes, "Besides, it's your birthday." That's all the heads up Wonwoo receives before you take his glistening tip into your mouth.

His abdomen shudders under your other hand. Years of hard-earned muscle jumping under your touch as you sink down gradually on him. He's a little salty and so familiar on your tongue. Wonwoo looks otherworldly like this. Inky locks sticking to his sweaty forehead and his eyes barely open behind his lenses. His bruised lips parting to let out guttural groans as his fingers fist your hair. The tip of him brushes the back of your throat and the gravelly 'fuck' that hits your ears goes straight to your clit.

His hips shallowly fuck your mouth. The sounds of you gagging on his cock echoing throughout your bedroom along with his quiet sounds of pleasure. A few stray tears roll down your flushed face, and your spit and his pre-cum dribble down your chin. It's filthy. It's so intoxicating watching him lose himself while he uses your mouth. You can't help but, hurriedly shove your hand that's not wrapped around his cock between your thighs. Rubbing jerky circles on your clit and moaning around him.

"Fuck. Fuck, fu-fuck wait. I'll-I'm going to cum," he heaves out, stilling your movements with his hands. Gently easing you off of his wet, red, throbbing cock.

It takes everything in him not to cum on your pretty face when you pout up at him, your hand still between your plush thighs, "Why'd you stop? I wanted you to cum in my mouth."

His cock jumps a mere few centimetres away from your face.

"Don't say that," he grits out, his eyes shutting briefly behind his frames. "I'd rather cum inside of you," he says, the intent in his eyes causing the butterflies in your stomach to rage, "It's my birthday, isn't it? I thought I got to choose today."

He says that like he doesn't do that every day. Like you don't let him do as he pleases with you whenever he wants.

"Fine," you comply with the pout more for dramatics than anything else, "How would you like me, birthday boy?"

Your insides squirm when one of his large hands wraps around his length. Saliva pooling in your mouth yet again and more of your wetness dribbling onto your thighs,

"Come sit on it."

The command in his voice and how lowly he says it has you scrambling to your knees at breakneck speed. You choose to ignore his chuckle at your eagerness. Steading your hold on one of broad shoulders, your other hand wraps around him, nudging his fat tip along your entrance. His hands grip your hips harshly as you slowly ease onto him. The drag of his cock along your slick walls is toecurling. Your nails biting into his skin while he splits you open.

"Always so wet and tight for me," he mutters into your ear. The depth of his voice prompting your walls to clench around him and whimper in his strong hold. "Won-Wonwoo," you whine out when his tip kisses your cervix, "So deep."

"Fuck," he groans, pampering your throat with kisses when you start to move. Your thighs shake violently with every nudge of his cock along your sensitive walls but, you persist. His warm, massive hands cupping your ass. Grabbing as much of you as he can while his mouth lavishes your breasts with kisses and nips.

"My pretty girl with such pretty tits," he grits into your skin, drinking in the way they jiggle in time with your bounces on him. Your plump lips parted and your eyes screwed shut behind your foggy lenses.

You've never looked hotter than in this moment.

All your hazy mind can come up with is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. Your orgasm draws nearer but, you can already feel the burn stinging your thighs. You whine out in frustration, clutching at him even tighter as your walls spasm around him. Wetness leaking down his cock onto his heavy balls.

"Need help?" He pants, looking up at you with such genuine concern and unyielding patience that you think you might just fall in love with him all over again right now. You nod pathetically, "'M sorry. I know it's your birthday-"

"Shh, none of that," he interrupts, pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheek, "You've made today more than special. Thank you."

Before you can blink, you find yourself rolled onto your back with your devilishly handsome boyfriend hovering over you. He somehow looks even more attractive from this angle. His sweaty bangs hang in the space between you as he smiles down at you, "I can't think of a better way to celebrate my birthday than taking care of my favourite girl."

Your heart hammers in your chest and you soften at his words. "Won-" it's your turn for your words to be swallowed by a strangled moan when he drags himself out of you until his tip is the only part of his cock still inside of you before snapping his hips into you.

"My pretty baby," moans into your ear, his hands burning into your skin where they press your thighs into your chest, "looking so beautiful being fucked on my cock." All you can do is claw at his muscular back as he fucks you dumb on his length, "you'll take it all like a good girl, yeah?" He pants against your skin.

"Wonwoo," you cry out when one of his hands slots itself between your overheated bodies, rubbing fast circles into your swollen clit.

"Yes, plea-please. I'll take it all, please. I'm your good g-girl," you hiccup when he angles one of your legs higher to somehow sink deeper into you while he draws watery sounds of pleasure from you with his fingers.

"Then be good and cum for me. Want to watch you cum on my dick. Want to feel it," he slurs into your ear. His voice and words and fingers and cock and just everything that is him shoving you over the edge.

"Wonwoo," you whimper out, arching into him and keeping him as close to you as humanly possible. Your ankles locking behind his back and your fingernails raking his skin. Eager walls milking him while he fucks you through your orgasm.

"Shit," he gasps, his pace faltering, "Fuck. Fuck you feel amazing, baby. Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

"Please. I want it, please please please."

His hips are flush against you when his release rolls over him. He slams his lips against yours, moaning into you while his hips jerk into you. His cock pulsing inside of you and his warm cum painting your walls. You can't help the way your pussy grips him tighter, he's always just so gorgeous when he allows himself to lose his composure.

"Thank you," he says sleepily, toying with your hair and nuzzling into you.

"What're you thanking me for?"

"A pretty great birthday gift."

A laugh bubbles out of you, "We have sex all of the time, Wonwoo."

"True but, you haven't let me fuck you while you wear your glasses. 'Is was really fucking hot. We should do this more often," he says, smiling into your shoulder.

"The fogginess is a little annoying but, sure," you muse, tracing patterns on his back, "you look really hot too for the record."

AN: Happy Wonwoo Day!!! I don't know if I'll make it a habit to post on everyone I write for's birthday, but this was already pretty high up there in my drafts, so I thought why not.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

#jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut

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constant-and-immovable · 2 months

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Please tell me your serious thoughts on the Peter Pan crocodile!!

OH BOY. Alright. Okay. Hmmm

So there's a whole lot that I really can't disclose onto what I'm doing with it in The Novel because it plays a significant role in the prequel or sequel I'll tell my publisher I'm willing to write when they inevitably demand another installment, HOWEVER for the function of it as it exists within the story itself....

if I was directing a film or movie of it, I would want to keep it within semi-plausible parameters, but not make it a prehistoric croc.

It's a solid choice! To go with a living fossil like Sarcosuchus or Deinosuchus, because it's "real," but honestly...it's somehow less plausible than one that has simply managed to get to a fuck-off-big size.

Because yeah! I wouldn't want to be ANYWHERE near this thing!!! But I also don't think a kid chucking a hand in the water is going to be enough to bait one this size unless there's already blood/gore/bodies in the water that he's snapping at. True, this is not a story where logic prevails (hi, the acids in the guts of even a modern croc tend to destroy metals: jewelry, pieces of traps, animal tags, etc have all been found in them but VERY damaged/worn down. A clock is nothing, forget how you would hear it tick, it's just. anyway), however I'm not personally a fan of the "Somehow This Dinosaur Survived" genre of beasties, not when there are more things in heaven and in the earth.

SO.

Beyond the clock and the size, there is ...really nothing abnormal about it. The crocodile exhibits pretty standard behavior for a saltwater crocodile, the largest modern species (12-16ft is most common but some absolute monsters have measured in at nearly 20ft, and stories are everywhere about a mythic 25 ft)

If you grew up in the 1990s, you probably remember this guy wrangling them for tracking purposes. You can also see here what I was saying earlier: yes, they have an INSANE bite force, but their jaws aren't that tough otherwise--some rope, even around a big guy, is plenty to make the teeth less a concern. Then you just have to worry about their tails: solid muscle, which can propel them out of water like so:

Maybe he would have some more sympathy for the captain, given that he's also missing his right arm. If you've ever seen pictures of salties before, you've probably seen this one, or other pictures of him. This here is Brutus. He was, as of this image, estimated to be over 60 years old (!!!) and one of the largest living wild crocs. He's thought to have lost his arm to a bull shark when he was younger.

Bull sharks and salties do semi-frequently prey on each other: they both cross territories, though the sharks are primarily oceanic, and satlies (despite their names) are more common in rivers and brackish water. The reason they're called salties is that unlike most crocs, they CAN survive in saltwater. Again, we have a check in the box for old Tick-Tock, given that it seems to go inland on the island with some frequency.

If you've never seen a croc come out of the water before, it's Unnerving as hell. Watch any doc on the Nile, and you've seen a Nile croc (we'll get back to these) seemingly come out of nowhere and chomp onto a gazelle, but with salties it's somehow worse. The water just goes...still when they're gone. Like they were never there to start with.

Going off the book/play, a saltwater crocodile seems to be the most obvious, but again, we're running into size limitations. Reptiles never stop growing, and they certainly don't age the same way a mammal would, but they still do seem to have a lifespan under 100, and rarely break that 20ft limitation (with males typically getting larger than females of similar ages). It wouldn't be genetic impossibility to have one that had something going on in its DNA that made it BIG, at least not as unlikely as seeing a survivor from millions of years ago.

Plus, I do not care for the fact that the croc in the 2023 version seemed to eat anything that moved. It kind of defeats the purpose that this thing is after Hook specifically. And guess what? That's not impossible.

My only thing is...salties are my favorite, they're not related to dinosaurs but you look at this thing and the awe...

Look at him. He's a fucking dinosaur. The croc in the play/book/a film adaptation should, much like the ship, make you immediatley go "CROCODILE!" ...sleek, dangerous, fast, green, with fang like teeth. My brain always makes a crocodile green, and they're really not. None of them are. American alligators, the ones most prevalent in zoos when I was growing up in the US, are more often dark grey or even black looking in the water.

So that brings me back to this guy:

(that's a fish in its mouth, this individual is of a sane size)

The Nile crocodile. Confirmed man-eaters as well (I don't think I mentioned that, but salties are known man-eaters, there are some gnarly, tragic stories out there to complete with the grosses of shark attacks. Do not recommend research in this area), they're more known for this than their salty cousins. How much more well known?

Well. This guy is the responsible for more human deaths than we can even keep track of due to the remote locales they live. While I hate the idea of any wild animal being held up as villain, it's bonkers to me that we fear sharks as society rather than crocs since...Niles alone take down hundreds of people per year, instead of the 5-25 by all shark species combined.

True, they're freshwater beasties, but they can live in MILDLY brackish water. Its not something an animal can readily adapt to within its own life, but give a few generations to the ones that are currently invasive in Florida may eventually be able to cross to the Caribbean Islands.

They also have, and you can kind of see this in the skull structure, even weaker muscles for opening the jaws than salties.

You can put your hands around this thing's jaws (DO NOT. RECOMMEND.) and hold them shut.

More points in his box: Nile crocs had a uniquely nasty reputation in England following the Battle of the Nile in 1798, where crocs came rushing towards the violence and were picking off drowning and injured soldiers and eating bodies as they hit the water.

It was such a horrific sight that Nelson was presented with a gift sword that had one of the coolest design I've ever seen, though wildly impractical:

fabulous. look at that smile.

Anyway, the Nile Crocodile was the 'Jaws' of the mental menagerie of the Victorians. Barrie would have, when picturing a crocodile, very likely have been imagining one of these simply from how they became the stand-in for crocodilia in public consciousness.

Now it does lose some points not just for the saltwater issues, but because they only hit get around 15 ft, and Barrie's monster was big enough to eat a man whole even with some difficulty. In his notes for a silent film, he intended this be be shown on camera and it was frankly more traumatic than the 2003 film ending, of a mere snap of the jaws.

Side note: the 2003 crocodile is still under 30 ft, as is the 1953 one, it's just the skull/mouth proportions that make them seem MUCH bigger. Just like with sharks, the jaws of even a 20ft individual are going to be a LOT smaller than most people imagine.

The 2003 one works well enough, despite not seeing it very much (I have a WHOLE other essay on that--most of the set/props of the film we only get in small glimpses, giving it a dream/memory like quality where you fill in the blanks of a lot of what you think you're seeing. the croc included) but I kind of hate it's cartoony face:

Genuinely, what the fuck is this thing even supposed to be. I appreciate that it looks almost demonic, an exaggeration of a crocodile--just as the ship was an exaggeration of a pirate ship, everything on the 2003 Neverland was taken to story-book extremes, making it seem all the more like a dream/tied to the imaginations of the kids.

MEANWHILE...Their concept art was better; this thing at least looks more like a croc than...whatever that thing was.

And of course the 1953 one is goofy, the entire movie was...well. Cartoony. The SyFy crocodiles fail to really drive home the scariest part of them, that they're intelligent enough to stalk an individual to the death, same as the 2023 one did: despite the whole "no one is safe from this thing" element that should raise the stakes, its just...not the same. [Though I HAVE seen an adaptation where the crocodile was after everyone but Peter and his friends, since it was HIS PET...the whole adaptation kept trying to keep the show from being too scary but ended up being one of the most disturbing Peters I'd ever seen].

All in all, despite the fact that I firmly believe a monster-sized Nile was the original vision, I'd be going with a salty, but the first time we see it, it would be covered in a slick of algae or weeds, giving it the green look everyone always pictures/draws/designs:

this isn't Brutus, but the guy on the left has a damaged right paw too--it's actually a fairly common sight on larger crocs, to see missing paws/damaged limbs from their various encounters with other predators, trespassing crocs, or boats/traps.

I had also put some thought into the possibility of a Cuban crocodile, American crocodile, and the Orinoco crocodile--the last of which may have once had expanded territory into the Caribbean, and historically had sailors claiming to see 20ft ones, although they typically measure smaller (and lighter) than salties today, under 15 ft.

Still, all this is irrelevant because peak character design for Tick Tock has already been reached:

I still haven't seen the movie, and I don't give a damn that this stupid thing was designed to sell toys, I have one that lives on my work desk and my evidence for why he's the superior Tick Tock is simply that he is the Bestest Boy.

(concept art by Sona Sargsyan, I didn't see a credit anywhere for the concept art/promo image of the 2003 one)

Look at him. If this thing gave me those eyes and asked for a snack I'd start cutting off pieces of the captain myself. I mean not really, that's a bit bloody but you get the idea.

#peter pan #annie writes things #long post

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