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caxde · 1 year

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dazed and confused | eddie munson x reader

summary you work on Hawkin's music shop, and Eddie is a regular costumer. Your friends (Steve and Robin mostly) help you to gain confidence and flirt with him.

word count: 8.1k (i think is the longest oneshot ive ever done, yikes)

warnings fem!reader (but i think i didn't use pronouns so u know ;) ), fluff, like lots of fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, use and metion of beer and cigarretes. english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!!

“You might actually have fun” He said for the millionth time, following you around as you restock the shelves.

“Oh, I dunno Harrignton.” You answer, glancing quickly at him. “Doubt I’ll do.” You remark, keeping track of what you needed to get from the back, you counted and scribbled down on your little notebook.

“C’mon, just a couple hours, if you’re not having fun I’ll drive you back home myself.” You were getting slightly annoyed at him now, he could have chosen any day to come and mess around at your job, but as it turned out, Saturday was your busiest day, and it was release week for a lot of musicians, December approaching as it were.

“Dude, seriously, you can come in here and annoy me, but please not today?” You begged as you walked behind the counter, leaving him waiting as you disappeared for a few seconds crouching down at the boxes and picking up a promotional poster that you begged your manager would let you keep.

“If I leave, will you agree to come?” You scoff away at his question and the only response you received was him messing his hair up.

“Why do you insist on me to come?” You demand, daggers shooting away at him. “Take Robin! Robin loves parties.” You say, truly meaning it, hoping he would listen to you.

“Robin finally has a date!” He announces as a proud father, and you almost drop all the vinyls you were holding.

“Shit! Really?” You ask with your face in complete glee, a smile growing in between your cheeks.

“Yeah! Vickie asked her after she dumped that blonde dude, so, I need a wing-woman!” He explains, almost screaming even if you can tell he was aiming for a whisper, he was so excited it got to the best of him.

“Why though?” You still didn’t understand why he wanted you there.

“Okay, jesus…” He finally admits, sounding defeated as he walks behind you, you needed to restock more vinyls in the rock and metal section. “Nance is gonna be there… And… You know…”

“Oh…” You said as you realized that he needed a little push to get the one that got away back. “Wait, didn’t Nancy dump you at a party?” You demand as you walk back to the section and start organizing the pressed music into different artists.

“Well yeah, thought it would be kinda nice to-'' He cuts himself off, shaking his head and locking eyes with you. “Please?”

“Jesus Christ….” At that moment he knew you had agreed, and his smile grew bigger. “Yeah, ‘kay, but you owe me, like… big time!” You shout at him, finger raised and everything, he smiled and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up a six-pack or whatever you wanna.” He says as he’s leaving.

“Or you could actually buy something for once!” You scream at him, too far away to actually hear anything you’re saying to him. “Asshole” You mutter under your breath.

Keeping your brain focused on the task at hand, you looked at the bands that you had in front of you, Deep Purple, Iron Maiden, Metallica and Led Zeppelin. Your finger tapped the last one’s cover, thinking if you needed to get more stocked. And how in love you were with the last album. You were gonna buy yourself a copy as soon as you could. So you took a little bit longer to actually put them together, making sure everything looked nice and was easy to find, as you spin rapidly to get back to the counter, your body slams into someone else’s.

“Shit, sorry!” You say as you look up at this boy’s face. You froze on the spot.

“S’okay, wasn’t looking.” He says, grabbing your arm, pushing you back , looking at you, making sure you are okay. His brown eyes looking directly at yours. Long curly hair framing them. “You okay?” He asks, inclining his head slightly to the right.

“Ah, yeah, yeah. Great. Um, if you need help with anything…” You stumble as you talk, you have only seen him from afar, never actually spoke to him, you didn’t even know his name. Only thing you knew was this, he came every Thursday and looked if you had anything new, so it was shocking to see him on a Saturday .

He didn’t talk much when he checked the things off, biting his lower lip, he would nod and search for the money you asked for.

“Actually, do you have the um… Perfect Strangers cassette? You know it’s-” You feel bad from cutting him up, but you get excited for a second.

“Deep Purple? Yeah!” You say, happy to help him, he smiles at you and you can’t help your face as you copy his expression. “Great album…” You whisper as you relook at the shelves.

“Yeah, I Know, I lent it to a friend, and I don’t think I'll ever get it back, so…” He explains, as he follows you, you chuckle at his explanation as you nod.

“Happened to me with Mötley Crue’s Too Fast For Love '' You say to him, at which you see him smile to himself. “Aha!” You let out as you see the little cassette, you point your feet to reach when you feel him behind you, arm higher than yours, chest closer than before, your cheeks growing red at an alarming rate as he grabs it before you, and you look up at his hand, three silver rings decorating his fingers.

“I got it” He says, once you turn to him. He smiles as he messes with his hair, and when he realizes that he’s a little too close to you for a stranger, takes an apologetic step back, and signals you to go first, bowing his head low. You whisper a thanks as you walk to the register.

“Do you… Um.. want anything else… uh..?” You ask, hopping he introduces himself, so you can stop referring to him in your head as hellfire boy

“Um, Eddie.” He says, you smile as you hear his name, he does the same as he looks at you.

“Do you need anything else, Eddie?” You ask, cheeks flushed pink and a smile on your face.

“No, no, that’ll be it.” He says, searching for his wallet in his back pocket. You nod, and as you grab a little bag for his cassette, you leave a Deep Purple patch in the bag, a little gift for him.

“Okay then, here you go.” He left a ten dollar bill and before you could give him the change he gestures a no with his head, smiling as he does so.

“Keep the change, and thank you.” He says grabbing the bag, giving you one last look.

“See you!” You say.

“Yeah, see you.” He says, as you watch him leave, biting your lower lip containing your excitement.

You were retouching your make-up in the passenger's seat, nervously fussing as you tried to apply mascara over the speed bumps.

“Jesus Harrigton! Don’t wanna poke my eye out.” You say to him, as he slows down for once.

“Sorry!” He says again. “Don’t know why you’re so nervous now…” He says under his breath, stopping at a red light, at which you take advantage of and draw in your waterline, black.

“S’nothing.” You mumble, evidently lying. You can feel his questioning stare and you chuckle. “What?”

“Someone’s happy…” He teases, as he leaves the red light you see him smiling at himself. “Oh… did he finally talk to you?” He says teasing you.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about…” You whisper, dismissing his tone and smudging your eyeliner a bit, playing with your hair next.

“Oh come on! I saw him in the shop eyeing you!” He says, you can’t help but smile.

“Damn it Steve!” You confess in between laughs. He parks his car as you continue. “He did… he’s nice..” You admit, playing with your ring nervously as you wait for him to stop the car.

“Did you… I dunno, introduce yourself? Ask for his number? Flirt a little?” he keeps teasing you as he leaves the car, six-pack on his left hand. You slam the door shut as you let out air.

“I panicked, only got his name…”

“God you’re bad at this.” He chuckles, as he gives you an opened beer bottle.

“Welp, you are supposed to teach me so…” You tease back, taking a quick sip.

“Fuck off…” He says, opening one for himself, walking up to the noisy house.

“I did give him a little gift, and he tipped, so maybe he’ll remember me next time…” You say looking at the floor, drinking a little bit more. Getting more nervous as you saw more and more people hanging about the place you were going.

“Sure he will, you’re unforgettable!” He says sarcastically. You show him your tongue in a teasing response.

It really wasn’t your scene, corny music, people making-out as soon as you opened the door could be seen, you really wished Robin was here, so you could speak to someone when Steve inevitably disappeared with somebody else. He walked to the kitchen and you followed him, you could see him searching for her, and you couldn’t resist but to tease him, whispering loverboy to his ear, he playfully punched you. But as soon as he saw her, he was left speechless.

“You really like her, huh?” you asked him, eyes in the opposite direction.

He nodded as he looked at you. You smiled, happy to keep watch in the kitchen.

“Go!” You said to him, he moved his head no and looked at the ground, playing nervously with his hair.

“No, no– I ah… Leave you alone?” he mumbled as he tried to keep his cool.

“It is okay Steve.” you reassured him. “You go talk to Nance, I’ll make sure the beer is drinkable.” You say to him ironically, he chuckled and muttered a thank you to you as he left.

You nodded at the two idiots.

You knew Nancy still liked him, so you enjoyed seeing the two idiots in love talking to each other, from afar. It was also fun to tease him back.

So you did as you promised, you stayed put with a drink in your hand, and when it finished, you refilled, holding onto hope that Steve won’t be long, and proven mistaken when twenty minutes pass. You grew bored of Bowie’s music, not that you didn’t like “The Rise and Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars” but you had been playing that for two weeks over at the shop, courtesy of his new movie he starred in, and you just needed a break. As you searched for a distraction, you saw an abandoned packet of Camel on the kitchen counter, jackpot.

You could smoke it right there, but some fresh air would keep you more refreshed and awake.

So you stumbled your way across, walking through the maze of drunken people, or couples grossly making-out. Hopefully, the back door was open and nobody was blocking it, so you could breath in the cold air, your beat up cropped Zeppelin shirt wasn't that much help against the cold, but you didn’t seem to mind, it actually felt kind of nice, to be able to feel the warmth the cigarette left in your fingers.

Red cup in one hand, cigarette in the other, you looked out at the yard, and almost dropped them both.

He was here. And he was looking curiously at you. He smiled as he waved to you, and you did the same, dragging the smoke out of your fingers, and as you see him approaching you can’t help but mutter shit to yourself.

“Hey” He says, lips parted from the cold, rosy cheeks for the same motive contrasting his pale skin.

“He-hey” You mutter, readjusting your voice, since it’s been a while since you spoke out loud.

“What are you doing here?” he says, hugging himself, leather sleeves poking out of his jean vest.

“I, um. A friend needed some luck…” You say vaguely, not believing that he was actually speaking to you, and not really caring why he actually was doing so.

“Oh, he around?” He said, looking behind you, moving his head around, your eyes fixated in his neck.

“Ah, no. He left with the girl a while ago. Hopefully he actually gets lucky this time…” You say more to yourself than to him, at which you catch him chuckle, and you smile in replay. And you can’t help but look at him again. You get lost in his chest, more importantly, in a newly stitched up patch, he notices you looking at it and smiles at you.

“Found it in a bag…” He says looking at you, grin in his face. “Thank you, for it.” He continued.

“Thought you might like it.” You admit, your cheeks were getting warmer, despite the cold that surrounded you.

“I do, thank you stranger.” He said, as he winked at you, you nodded, words failing you in that moment.

“You’re welcome.”

“What you drinking?” he asks, reaching for the cup, and you let him take a sip of it, sight locked in his lips. “Mmh, nice.” He says, getting closer to you, offering his arm. “Wanna get more?” he asks. At which, you take his arm and head inside, not really believing that it was really happening, or what was actually going on.

“Enough about my date! I wanna hear about yours!” Robin’s voice comes through the speaker of your telephone, you laugh in shock.

“What date?” You ask, and for whatever reason she laughs at the question.

“Oh come on” She says, ironically, you can tell she’s moving her head side to side. “Steve told me you weren’t alone when he came down” She whispers, and your hand reaches your eyes, shame in your heart.

“God dammit Robs… He’s so nice… And it wasn’t a date, ‘cus a date would mean that he asked me out, which he hasn’t, and honestly, I think he was just trying to be nice ‘cus stupid Steve left me alone with people I don’t really know.” She was laughing again, you were getting flustered at the memory of him.

“Or maybe, he wanted to get to know you, you know?”

“I dunno… Don’t wanna create expectations and then…”

“Yeah, yeah…” She finishes for you. “Well, tomorrows a Thursday, so maybe you’ll see him again?” She asks with teasing in her tone.

“Yeah, maybe.”

It had been months since you had such calmness in the store. So much so, you were the only one working today, could choose the background music, and since everything was clean, stocked and organized, you could just enjoy the moment.

Perfect stillness.

So you crouched down to the little crate that you hide behind the counter labeled workers shit. You roamed through it, hoping to find something that would catch your eye, passing from album to album, admiring every cover art, because you quite literally had nothing else to do. As you emerged back up, you had a dilemma in front of you, and you let your head rest in your hands as you looked down at both albums. Rumors by Fleetwood Mac was an exceptional album, you had no doubt about it, but… Led Zeppelin’s self titled one was eyeing you.

“Where to start, where to start…” You sang to yourself as you thought, completely lost in possibility.

So it really shouldn’t surprise anyone, that his voice surprised you enough to jump as he spoke, making you both laugh.

“No music?” He said before you jumped, and after a quick chuckle and apology he continued. “Sorry, I meant… You always have music playing.” he came back, and with him, your pink cheeks and nervousness.

“I.. Well yeah, but I usually just agree to whatever my colleague wants, and I almost never have the choice so now I don’t really know what to start with…” You explain to him, fast, almost rumbling as he smiles at you, big brown eyes looking tenderly as he does so.

His hands find their way over the counter, close enough to yours to make you unconsciously bite your lower lip, as your eyes follow them up. Hands, wrists, arms, shoulders, neck, long hair, eyes. His head looked down, as his fingers moved to grab the album on the left, focused as he read what they had inside, while the only thing you could actually focus on were the veins in his arms.

“Didn’t think you liked Fleetwood…” He mumbled, you leaned closer, without really thinking about what your body was doing.

“Well, Steveie’s voice… She truly is magic.” You whisper, more to you than to him. He lights up as his eyes meet yours, smiles in both your faces.

“Wouldn’t really know…” He confesses, pulling his body closer, forearms resting atop of the counter, whispering to you. “Haven’t really given them an opportunity…” He says, eyes travelling from your eyes, to your lips and neck. Even if you were nervous about having him that close, you were so happy to be able to talk to him about music! of all things… You were just really enjoying the moment.

“Well, you gotta.” You replay with a shy smile, your eyes completely lost in his. He nods as he taps the vinyl.

“You got ‘em in cassette?” He asks, and as you nod you pull back a bit, looking at your shelf. You had it saved in case someone called <<Lauren>> would pick it up, but it's been three months and she hadn’t, so you decide to rip the post-it off and throw it in the thrash. You feel his sight locked on your back, and that might be why you move slower, or why your waist turns more than it needs to.

“There you go.”

“Thanks.” He says, reaching for his wallet. You put your hand forward, signaling a no with your head as you smiled softly at him.

“On me.” You say, pushing the little plastic box to him. He smiles as he reaches for it, fingers touching yours, electricity between both of you.

“You don’t have to…” He says, still holding it, brushing your index finger, eyes still locked with yours.

“I want to.” You reassure him.

He nods, and mutters a thank you. You look at him as he starts to leave and you go back to the vinyl, taking it out of its envelope, when you hear his sneakers turning around.

“When do you get off?”

“8.30.” You replay, shocked at the question.

“You’ve got plans?”

“No”

“Wanna come to The Hideout?” He says, and you could swear he was the one getting flushed. “My uh… My band plays there at 9.30” He adds, your smile grows bigger. “We usually do it on Tuesdays and its a smaller crowd, but he got an offer to play today.” He says excitedly, rumbling like you do. “You can tell your friends” You can see him getting nervous, just like you did when he first approached you. “Or you know-”

You cut him off.

“I’ll be there.”

“So, it is a date?” Robin said once you arrived at the small bar.

“No, I mean I don’t think so…” You replay, your eyebrows furrowed, as you looked at her smiling, teasing face.

“But he did ask you?” She continues, with the same tone.

“Well, yeah, but… y’know, a date is like, only two people, and you talk to the other person, and get to know them, right?” You try to rationalize, as you ask for help by looking at her. “I mean, he probably was just being nice, or… or friendly? Like, y’know, I gave him a tape so he invited me and a friend to come around…so technically… not a date?” She didn’t give you an answer, she just shrugged her shoulders and laughed, heading to the entrance of said bar, you followed her, not any calmer, not one bit.

“Or he just wanted to show off, leave you impressed and then ask you out.” She says as you reach the actual bar, and as you push her shoulder in a friendly punch, she stumbles into a blonde girl you can’t really see, so you apologise, until you see Robin’s smile grow bigger in her face. “Well hello…” She muttered.

“Hey cutie.” Vickie. You smiled at the sight of them, pure adoration between their eyes. They took a bit of time to eye one another until they remembered you were there, and you couldn’t help but laugh at them.

“God, you two are cute…” You say, as they giggle back at you. “Do you idiots in love want anything?”

“Nah”

“We’re good, thank you!” Vickie says, finally looking at you, at which you nod.

You walked back to the bar, glancing at your friend, and a smile on your face. You were incredibly happy for her, she had been patient, and she deserved it more than anyone, and Vickie seemed so nice…

“Waddu want, sweetie?” The bartender's voice snaps you back into reality, and you quickly look at him.

“Ah, yeah, sorry.” He nods, and so do you. “Um, just a beer, please?” You say, maybe a bit too low you realize, but he seemed to understand you just fine. You reached into the inside of your jacket pocket, and once you had your wallet in your hand and looked at the man handing you the beer he shakes his head no.

“Already taken care of, sweetie.” He says, pointing at Eddie on the stage, waving hello at you. You blush a little bit as you salute him with the bottle, mouthing a small cheers to him, and he smiles back with a thumbs up.

“Thank you” You say to the bartender, and he nods in response. You walk back to your friends as you check the time on your wrist, it was about to start. “Hey, d’you wanna get closer?” They both nod, and you march on, and surprisingly, and even if the venue wasn’t that big, it was packed tonight, so you decided to stay in the third row, where you could be more comfortable, and still have room to dance.

“Oh shit, almost forgot.” Robin said, grabbing your elbow. “Steve gave me back your camera, says it should work now.” You smile as a thank you. The kids had begged you to trust them with this project, and hopefully they did a good job.

“Is it loaded?” You ask, eyeing Eddie in the shadows. Light still not on. Robin nodded in response and you got back to admiring him.

When the lights did finally light up, you were amazed. His arms were in full display, tattoos visible, and so were his veins, as he grabbed his guitar with force. The light bounced around his skin, making him look more defined than you had ever seen him. Just some hours ago you had seen him, but truly never like this. He ditched his usual Hellfire shirt, and wore a black button up, held together by the last button, so the red light that the stage had travelled down his chest, and what was worse, he was smiling. He was smiling directly at you.

So you spent the rest of the gig taking pictures of him, as he looked at you, and on occasions, Robin photographed you smiling at him.

“You really are their mom, huh?” You tease Steve as he hangs around the counter, waiting for the lunch club to actually pick what they want.

“Shuddup.” He says, slightly annoyed, a smile on his face as he looks back at them. “And I prefer being called a babysitter, thank you so much.” He answers, nodding his head, making his hair bop up and down.

“Okay… Babysitter Harrington…” He scoffs with a short laugh, as do you. You look down at the photos again, the kids developed them for you and you were in awe. And yeah, they had a million questions that you avoided.

“So…?”

“What?”

“Oh come on, you're smiling at them!” Steve points as he says so, grabbing one of the photos that shows a very happy you looking at him on the stage.

“It’s nothing” You mumble, trying to not give it any importance, covering them with a piece of paper.

“Oh, fuck off. You might be able to bullshit Henderson or Wheeler but not me.” He declares, looking at you. You could tell that he won’t stop annoying you until you open your mouth. “And besides, Robin told me some things. I mean she was more focused on the whole Vickie of it all, but y’know”

“Yeah, I know. They really look happy Steve…” He asks you to continue with a raised eyebrow. “I just don’t wanna make a fool out of myself. He was just being nice. Not a date. Just him inviting me to his little gig.” As you say that you can’t help but recall him, in the stage, absolutely adoring the applause and praise he got, and how he soaked the light red up, making him look angelic and demonic at the same time.

“Look, maybe he does want to ask you out, but he's too shy to do so?” He asks, looking at you, reassuring with a little tap on your shoulder. “Like you…”

He gets interrupted by a little curly haired kid wearing a snapback.

“You guys talking ‘bout Eddie?” Dustin asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Hello to you too kid.” You answer in return. “What is it gonna be Henderson?” You ask, in your customer service voice as he hands you over a little tape. “Huh, didn’t take you for an Iron Maiden fan Dustin.” You say as you scan it.

“Well…” He starts to explain as he reaches for his pocket. “It’s actually a present, y’know, an end of campaign gift for our DM.” He says excited, as he raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, nice.” You smile back at him. “Sure he’ll like it.” You reassure him, even if you didn’t understand a word that came out of his mouth.

“Yeah, Eddie said he loves this band!” Mike adds up, having found his way into the conversation, with another tape in his hand.

“Oh, Eddie the um…?” They all nod, knowing what you were going to ask. “He actually already has this one…” You say with an apologetic look in your face.

“Shit. You sure?” Dustin asks.

“Yeah, he ordered Somewhere In Time two weeks ago, and paid for it, he’ll probably come and collect it today or tomorrow.” You say as you turn the monitor to the kids, who stare with awe at the amount of data collected.

“You keep track of him?” Mike asks, accusing you of something.

“What? No.” You spit back at him. “I’m just good at my job.” You say as you stick your tongue out at him. “You could get him some uh… Black Sabbath, y’know?” You ask as the two little kids nod at you. You take a second to run to the back of the store and grab some of the ones that you still had to restock. “So one Seventh Star to go.” You say as you hand it to them, who look incredibly nervous now. “What? I can give you guys more options if your not-”

They cut you off as they snatch the tape out of your hands and throw the bill at you as they run out of the store.

“Who raised you?” You ask more to yourself than anyone else, as you're left there, in awe and shock, looking at Steve for some answers.

“Your boy just got in.” He says as he nods to him, who was heading to the hard-rock section. “See ya!” He says as he runs to reach the little kids.

You’re left alone and feeling completely speechless. Asking yourself a million questions about what has just really happened, but too focused on getting your job actually done, even if you were just distracted.

So you recovered the box in the back with everything that you had to restock, being interrupted by a soft smiling Eddie standing at the counter, tapping along at the song that’s playing in the background.

“Hey Eddie.” You salute him, shyly, leaving the box on the counter.

“Hey stranger.” He said back, a smile growing bigger.

“I’ve got your tape, hold on.” You say as you look for it on your shelf.

“No rush.” He says, locking his eyes in you, watching patiently as you head back, and he really was looking at every detail of you, from the way that you walk to the way that your hair moved as you did so. He was blushing now.

When you come back with it, you find him with the photo that Steve had in his hand, smiling as he looks at it, looking back at a very flustered you.

“Oh…” Is the only thing that you manage to say.

“You look good…” He mutters, with a whisper of a voice.

“I um… thanks!” You answer, not really sure what to do next. So you leave the tape down and uncover the rest of the photos. “I took some of you and… Robin, well, the tall girl that was with me also took some and uh well… Wasn’t gonna really show them to you ‘cause they're kinda bad but-” He cuts your rambling with a chuckle as he looks at all of them.

He’s smiling with his teeth, blushing and stroking them softly, his ring decorated fingers passing through them.

“They are good. You make me look amazing.” He praises you.

“Well, you are.” You say before realizing what you were actually saying.

Once you did, your face was warmer and for sure showing colors.

He smiles and you do the same, with a soft laugh as your eyes lock once again, his body resting completely on the counter now, dreamily looking at you, back and forth between your eyes and your lips.

“Thank you…” He says, grabbing the tape. A moment of silence, not awkward but comfortable, is shared between the two of you. “What is… what’s this song?” He asks, and you're left in shock.

“You gotta know T.Rex…” You say back to him, as you see how he shyly moves his head no, burying his face in his hands in shame. “Eddie!”

“I’m sorry! I don’t…” He says back at you, biting his lower lip.

“Oh come on… D’you know, Jeepster?” No he lets you know. “Okay, how about um…Sinister Purpose by Creedence Clearwater Revival?” No again. “Jesus… Led? You know Led Zeppelin?”

“Yeah, I know them.” You sigh in relief.

“Dazed and Confused?” You ask him, it being your favourite song.

“I kinda feel like that, yeah.” The palm of your hand reaches your face in frustration.

“It’s a song…” You whisper, as you chuckle and he laughs as he apologises. “My favourite actually.”

“Then I’m sure it’s a good one.”

“That’s not enough!” You let him know, flustered in all kinds of ways. “D’you know what, I’ll make you a tape, so you can actually know them, and maybe you’ll like them.” You say as you get lost in him for a second too long.

“Okay then, but, you’ll listen to it with me.”

“Okay, sure.”

“Grate, pick you up tomorrow when you close.” He says as he leaves with the new Iron Maiden tape under his hand.

And it suddenly dawns on you, that did sound like a date.

Finally, the last lady left the store.

And the usual relief that you were used to feel when closing time came around, became a weird excitement.

So, as a distraction or a routine, you did what you usually did once you were left to your own devices. Change the sign to closed, dial the volume up, and sing at the top of your lungs as you sweep the shop.

You would normally have to do inventory and whatnot, but your co-worker Carla had already, she even closed the register, begging you to let her go early because she had a hot date. Of course you said yes, not wanting to tell her that you might have one too.

Because, as usual, you were looking at Eddie’s proposition practically.

You had gifted him a Deep Purple Patch, so he was nice to you at the party.

You had given him a tape and he invited you to see him in The Hideout. (And bought you a beer)

You had offered to make him a tape with your favourite songs and he said he wanted you there when he heard them.

So technically, he was just being nice.

But then again, people that are just friends don’t really do things he did.

Steve and you were just friends, and he never drank from your cup. Eddie did.

Robin and you were just friends, and she had never blushed when you complimented her. Eddie did.

Steve and you were just friends, and he never made you blush so much your face became like a tomato. Eddie did.

You grew frustrated of making stupid lists in your head, so you really tried to focus on what you were actually doing, to little to no use.

So you focused on the lyrics, mumbling along them, screaming the occasional phrase that you enjoyed, dancing around and using the broom as if it were your personal microphone stand.

So when you heard a little laugh, you jumped, almost falling to the ground. Broom touching it.

Eddie had sneaked in, and had surely enjoyed the little show you had going on, dancing around not really caring, and he laid there, standing close to the entrance door smiling at you.

“Sorry!” He said, with an apologetic gesture. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright! I was just um…”

“Dancing” He finishes, resting his weight on a shelf, arms crossed in his chest, looking you up and down as you squad down to retrieve the fallen object. You nod with your cheeks pink, not really knowing what to say next, a comfortable silence, broken by his voice once again. “You need help?”

“Oh, um.. no don’t worry, it’s just this corner I’ve got left.” You say to him, really trying not to get distracted by the way his arms look, tensed up, with his veins showing as his sleeves got caught up in his upper forearms. “I do have to go backdoor and grab my coat but it’s a second.” You say, as you smile wilde at him. He nods as he starts walking to the counter.

“I got it.” He says. Before you can tell him not to bother, he’s already in the back rummaging through as you hear him humming to himself.

You try to finish your work before he gets out, and for whatever reason, maybe he’s distracted by the amount of unreleased material you guard, or maybe in a more mundane manner, he is just truly admiring your jacket, and picturing you wearing as he has seen multiple times from afar, he does just that, finding you in the back of the counter, turning the computer off and turning the stereo off, making sure you were missing nothing.

His hands travel to your waist, squeezing it softly, his cold hands in contact with your warm skin, you feel the tingle that the goosebumps leave your skin, electricity flying between both of you.

You turn around surprised, almost tripping over him in a flustered reaction, you let out a soft moan that escapes your soft lips. He smirks as he sees you, close to his body, and your chest agitated, in contrast to his calm demeanor.

“Your jacket” He whispers, lips to your ear as you turn to look at him, before you’re locking eyes to one another.

“Th-thanks.” You manage to say, not knowing how to ask, being this close to him.

If you were being honest, you had pictured his home a million times, each of it different to the last one, but you would have never guessed just how perfect it was for him.

A small trailer, fit with the strangest things that suited him.

A collection of mugs lives in the walls of the entrance, decorating the yellow walls, T.V turned off.

You were focused on the, each one different to the next, they didn’t seem to be in any particular order, but in an organized chaos that fitted him in an incredible manner.

“Those are Wayne’s mugs.” He says, as he watches you with a smirk in his face, as you admire them.

“They’re fun. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many mugs together.” He laughs as he looks at you once again, his sight lost in your figure and the way your body moves, standing finally in his living room.

You fidget with the tape as you look around, not sure where to sit or where to go, your body relaxes as you see him come closer to you, beer in hand offering it to you.

You nod as you take it, happy for the drink, excited for the company.

“If you wanna, I can bring the stereo here, I usually keep it in my room ‘cus Wayne finds it annoying but…” He shakes his head as he’s rumbling, eyes moving back, from the floor to you. “Whatever you find more comfortable I don’t wanna uh…” You smile back at him, relating to his rumbling.

You find that he’s not as intimidating as he shows to the world, you see his soft side, not really wanting to really push you into anything that would make you feel slightly uncomfortable or awkward or whatever that is the contrary of safe.

So you nod, as you lock eyes.

“I’m sure it's heavy, we can just go there, door open…” You say, letting him know your boundary for tonight.

He guides you to his room, an organized mess lies before you. A big hand-sprayed Corroded Coffin banner hanging from one wall, multiple posters, some you recognized from your own walls at work, some laid in your own room, a desk full of various things, from ashtrays (full and almost empty in rotation), to a mechanic’s manual lay around.

“Kinda messy, sorry…” He says, as he catches you looking around, amazed.

“No, actually… Kinda pictured you in a room like this.” You replay, playing with the tape in between your fingers, tapping it nervously.

Looking down at it, you realize you clearly had a favourite band. Side A being filled with different bands, while the whole of Side B is just filled exclusively with Led Zeppelin.

You're getting embarrassed that he might hate it.

“You okay?” He asks as he notices you, frozen in the spot, looking down at the mixtape.

“Uh, yeah… Sorry… Just realized this might be shit.” You say, apologetically, raising your shoulders up.

He moves his head no as he smiles at you, approaching as his teeth show, hair brushing his cheeks.

“You’re overthinking.” He says, touching your fingers as he grabs the tape, spending more time than he needed to in doing so, enjoying your touch and the warmth you leave in his skin.

The closeness doesn’t make you nervous, or produces butterflies, it actually calms you down. You feel as if he is a safe-space, not a reason for your anxiety to run through, and as you realize this, you can’t help your lips to widen your smile, eyes locked in his touch.

“Is this one of yours?” He asks as he flips the tape, the cover was one of the photos you took on his gig. Him. Standing in all his glory. Low cut black shirt framing his torso, tattoos poking out. His eyes looking directly at the camera, directly at you. As he smiles, guitar in his hand.

“Yeah, thought you might like it…” You see as he nods, a pink colour creeping in his cheeks.

“You really make me look like a Rockstar…” He whispers back, as he moves to the stereo, and you clock three various sized amps in his room, so you giggle a little at the sight of them, he turns to you, tape still in his hand. “What?” He asks with glee in his face.

“Am I gonna go deaf with…?” You ask as you point to them, he shakes his head no as he looks at them, chuckling as he does so.

“Ah, no… No. They’re ah, one’s for the gigs, the big one is. The middle one has something that’s broken inside but it makes this cool reverb effect so we sometimes use it when we’re messing around, y’know.” He begins to explain, excitedly as he points and walks over to each one of them, smiling brightly at you. “And this little boy is the one that I actually use for the stereo. I mean it's smaller but it sounds amazing…” He says as he slaps it with a familiarity of having done this a thousand times. Maybe when it doesn’t work that well you think.

So you nod, as you take a sip of the beer, sitting down in his bed, comfortable sheets to your touch.

Sinister Purpose filled the room.

The bass line that you adored made you move your head up and down at a very surprised yet attentive Eddie. You could see how his brain was centered in the lyrics as his hand tapped along his tight, mimicking what accords were being used.

And you did what you could never help yourself to stop. You whispered the words, coming in and out of song, enjoying it, maybe a little too much.

“Sinister Purpose…Knocking at your door… Come and take my hand…” You continued as it was finishing. Enjoying the final riff, relaxing into his bed, taking another sip. He walked right where you were. Sitting next to you, clinging the bottles before he sips his own.

“Not my usual, but it's a fun one.” He says, as you smile at him, nodding to his words.

“I know but shuush, T.Rex’s coming!” You say excitedly. Tapping your hands to the rhythm

Jeepster was now playing, and you used your beer bottle as if it were a mic, fooling around making him laugh, once he learned the chorus, he would match your words, messing around with you. Swinging both of your heads, laughter filling the room.

He didn’t know the first part of the verse, so he would shut up, looking, or in a better match of words, adoring you as you delight him.

“The wild winds blow… upon your frozen cheeks… The way you flip your hip… it always makes me weak!” You start, and you see him smiling, as he mumbles the next lyrics, not really following along with the rhythm, even if your ring is marking it against the glass bottle.

“‘Cos you’re my baby… ‘cos you’re my love… Oh girl I’m just a jeepster for your love.” Laughter and giggles coming from both of you, truly enjoying the moment, teasing one another, really meaning what you were singing even if the other was obvious to it.

As the song was drawing to a finish, he started to give you his review.

“It’s a really dovey-lovey song, isn’t it?” He said, with his eyebrows raised, locking his eyes on you, hand resting in your lap.

“Well, yeah. But it’s catchy. You were singing it!” You contradict his words by nudging him in his chest. As you do so you realize how truly close he is. His thigh was almost touching yours, yet his hand rested in it, electricity escaping from it. Your chests were in each others direction, eyes locked, undivided attention and, why not say it, adoration, clear for one another. “Besides, I am like that…”

Your eyes darting away from him, looking down at your beer. Nervousness of having him close, or maybe to open up, you decide to take another big mouthful of it.

“What do you mean-” You interrupt him.

“Oh, I think you’ll really like this one!” You say excited.

Children of the Revolution starts slowly.

And you see him tapping along on your thigh, as he's enamoured by the atmosphere that the bass and guitar create. His eyes locked on the amp.

“That…” He whispers as Marc Bolan’s voice fills the room. “Is awesome.” He finishes as he looks back at you.

“Yeah, kinda reminded me of you, y’know…” You whisper as you play with the paper tag of the bottle, sowly peeling it off. “They won’t fool you, children of the revolution…” you smile as you so slightly twist the lyrics to fit him, and he shyly smiles in return, his teeth showing. A soft giggle escaping his lips, his body relaxing more, touching yours now.

“You…” He doesn’t find the right words for everything he would like to say, so he resigns with letting his thumb stroke your thigh in a repetitive pattern.

It’s not only goosebumps, or warmth or electricity this time. But a sense that his hands belong in your body that fills you up.

No words needed, you are aware that you both feel the same way.

The Chain starts playing softly, and you see him smiling now.

“Well, that one reminds me of you…” He says, looking at your eyes, though his flicker to your lips for just a moment.

“They hated each other when they wrote it.” You replay, absentmindedly, whispering.

“Well, I could never hate you…” He whispers back. His hand stopping the repetitive stroking pattern, frozen in place, fear in his eyes that you could ever think that.

“Good…” You say, placing a lock of hair away from his face, touching it ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t-” He cuts you off.

“I know.” He finishes, as he guides your body to his chest. A warm embrace shared between the both of you, your heart beating louder and faster in anticipation to everything you wanna say and do to him, but you are trapped under his weight. Enjoying the way he holds you, just as nervous as you are, you feel he is. A private moment, an intimate one at that.

The tape clicks. Pulling you both away from the moment. Demanding a turn to its other side, so he breaks the hug, standing up as he readjusts his pants, your eyes following his hand and his movement. Staring at him, all of him.

Finally, your favorite song starts filling the room, and as Dazed And Confused starts, you see him smiling.

The suggestive bass line moves him to extend his hand to you, and you naturally accept it.

Robert Plant truly feels like he’s whispering in both of your ears, as you begin to slow dance.

“Dazed and confused for so long it's not true…Wanted a woman, never bargained for you”

You feel his hands traveling to your lower back, holding you closer than ever before, smiling as he does so. Yours lost in the back of his neck, playing with his curly wilde hair.

“Can I ask you something?” He whispers into your ear, his voice shaking as he does so.

“Yeah.”

“What do you do when you meet someone you like?”

“Tryin' to love you, baby, but you go on hurtin' so…Soul of a woman was created below”

“Well, I talk, and I drink, and I make them mixtapes and free music and hope they’ll eventually like me back…” You whisper to him, moving your head away from his chest so you can look at him in his eyes, a declaration. You bite your lower lip in nervousness. “What do you do?”

“I wanna love you baby, but you do me so bad…The worst little woman I once ever had, I've got to quit you baby”

“I uhm… I go to their workplace, hope they notice me, make them laugh and invite them to my gigs and…” He can’t bring himself to finish his words. He hadn’t been looking at your eyes, but was distracted, lost in your lips.

So when he dipped down to finally close the distance, you gladly let him, finally kissing him. Not in a rush or in desperation. But in total adoration and care.

Truly in love with one another.

You spent the rest of the tape kissing as you danced together, in no rush, both of you knowing this was just the beginning to a long story.

if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference

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basuralindo · 7 months

Note

Echo of the blog!!! kindly bestow onto us the knowledge of some of the best potato recipes you've got!!! seeing the potatoes in culinary crucible have ignited the cravings for all my favorite fried dishes!! :D

Hi!! (this in a weird brain day so sorry in advance if I sound as scattered as I feel awefjakg)

Welll I actually don't cook with potatoes much, so most of my recipes are pretty opportunistic, but I have a few!

So, I mostly prefer sweet potatoes (not yams. dunno shit about yams and I don't like them). I've always used ube or murasaki sweet potatoes back home, but recently discovered there's a white people equivalent that's way more accessible in the mainland. I don't know what they're called, but they're beige on the outside and yellow-white on the inside, and they're in the sweet potato and yam section. My other favorites are those smallish yellow potatoes which I also don't know the name of, but they're pretty distinctive. Anyway, most of the sweet potato recipes work well with normal potatoes too.

Easy potato: Both these actually taste great just microwaved (wrap it in a wet paper towel and rotate it every couple minutes, and it'll cook evenly without drying out -don't forget to stab it with a fork a few times first) with butter and spices. That's my executive disfunction go-to. (if you're using regular potatoes, then once they're fully cooked, cut them in half and add the butter spices and herbs, then put some cheese over it and put them back in the microwave for like 30 seconds)

Fried potato: If I'm gonna be cooking anything in a pan, I'll set some of the sauce and oil aside and cook the potatoes with. I start them off in the microwave again until they're pretty soft (doesn't matter if they're completely done, so long as it's at least most of the way there), then cut them in half lengthwise, either coat the exposed side in sauce or just put the sauce in the pan first, then just lay them on the pan exposed-side down and press them down with a spatula while they fry! It's good to flip them and fry the other side a bit too, but not necessary if you don't eat the skins. (this is best with sweet potato)

Potato pancakes: So, I don't have any particular recipe for mashed potatoes, but I know what to do with the leftovers! My mom used to just throw leftover mashed potatoes on the pan and call it good, but my old stepfamily made latkes, so I worked out a bastard combo: Get your leftover mashed potatoes, beat an egg or two depending on the amount, and mix them together with shredded/thinly sliced cheese and whatever herbs and spices you want (measure with your heart), then just plop some decently sized scoops onto a pan with oil/butter and fry till they're golden on the outside! These don't always hold together well, so careful when flipping them.

Homefries: This is an imitation of my dad's recipe from memory, I haven't made it in a few years cause it's kinda mid, but I digress. Anyway, for this you start off with diced potatoes and let them steam under a lid (or ceramic plate, whatever you got) on the pan on medium-low heat until they're kinda soft if you poke them all the way through with a fork. Once they're soft, add oil (I prefer olive for everything, but again, use whatever you got) and whatever seasoning you want, turn up the heat to medium/medium high, and fry till golden. (my dad's always were lightly charred at the edges, I thought it was intentional as a kid, but I think he just consistently burns food. go with whatever level of crisp you enjoy)

Aaaand that's all that comes to mind right now? I made an experimental rice dish for a plane trip where I was worried the rice would dry out over night, so I fried it up with some sweet potato and a lot of added water, which worked out perfect! Sweet potato soaks up and hangs onto a LOT of water and sauce, so if you simmer the combination with sauce/seasoning until it's somewhat firm, you get a really flavorful starch base to go with a travel meal that won't dry out on you!

Good luck with the cooking! Sorry I don't have more concrete recipes for you though

(also, sauces: never underestimate the power of soy sauce-honey-garlic-ginger combo. you can add rum and balsamic or malt vinegar too.)

#asks #for quartz #recipes #echo's bastard cookbook #trash talk

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pinyonrice · 2 years

Note

omfg that ask meme really taped brun's pic to the ceiling. ANYWAYS. #1 of course because now I want to see everyones baby pictures. #18 bring back the 00's. #19, #22, and #39 YEAH WOOO

Brun is the Bearer Of The OC Meme

1. Your first OC ever?

BUT GOTCHA GOTCHA. I mentioned before about my art purging habit, but coupled with my family moving like constantly and stuff inevitably getting lost along the way, I don't have a lot of traditional art I did as a kid! However I DO remember making stories about dogs and pokemon going on zany adventures together and dealing with the things that troubled me as a 6 year-old (mostly having to do with learning how to read). Here's some that have managed to stick out in my brain. Imagining 6 yo me losing my fucking marbles seeing these new renditions

18. Any OC crackships?

Oh fuck UMMM UMMY Elsbet and Zadri. Lesbians. I am as predictable as usual 😌 They're both married but I'm sure their wives would understand

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)

Oh this is a hard one!!! Maybe Hurricane since I've had her for so long? Sam because he was my introduction into a great community of artists and naturalists? Lupe because her story is about having her roots and her identity tied to a geographic area And I Think About It All The Time? I dunno, I feel like I'm not the most creative at making shit up, or at least just superficially, so I have to put a piece of Me into whatever I'm making to give it some semblance that it means something!

22. Is there any OC of yours people tend to mischaracterize? If yes, how?

Not that I can think of! Which is nice. I try to be pretty crystal-clear with who a character is (if I get to posting about them LMAO)

39. Introduce any character you want

sharkdog emailed to my sister in 2015 >:)

#WOO YEAH!! THANK YOU 1OOOORE #mailbox #1ore

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afriendlyblackhottie · 3 years

Text

Kin

Summary: Bucky’s been acting weird and you can’t help it when you expect the worst.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, swearing, breeding kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, degradation, GGFIL (you’ll see), arguing, cheating accusations

(A/N: this is different but I had fun writing it. And isn’t that what matters. Reblog follow like 💜✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @zaddychris @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @little-baby-vixen @mochamaniacbabe @brattycherubwrites @iam-laiya @whiskey-cokenfanfic @doloreshazes

——————————————————————————-

Bucky had never given you a reason to not trust him. He’d been nothing, but the perfect boyfriend now fiancé for the two years you’d been together. Sure it was a little difficult dating an Avenger mostly because you worried about him coming back to you, but still being with him was kind of perfect.

The first time you started to sort of question things was when a phone number fell out of his pocket while you were doing laundry. Some girls name written on a napkin. You didn’t want to jump to any conclusions especially since it’s not like he wasn’t meeting new people everyday because of work. Who knows it was probably nothing.

Then he came home all late that day smelling like vanilla. You know it was bad, but you tried to check his phone while he was sleeping. Not that it worked because your super assassin fiancé was a very light sleeper and woke up before you could even try.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked, in that sleepy voice.

“Oh it’s nothing,” you said, playing it off by stroking his hair. You know you should have said something, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

All he did was smile and kiss you before pulling you close. Like everything was fine. You know you should have asked him right then. The words had been on the tip of your tongue.

But you didn’t ask. Instead you let him roll on top of you before he started making out with you. Would a man that’s cheating be fucking your mouth with his tongue like that. Probably.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked with a sigh, putting his forehead to yours.

You shrugged, looking down at his mouth so you didn’t have to look him in the eye. “It’s nothing.” Then you out a fake smile on to really sell it.

“Come on,” he whispered. “You know I know you better than that. If somethings wrong you can tell me. Daddy’ll take care of you, Doll.”

You made the mistake of looking into his blue eye that seemed to be seeing into your soul. There was always this gentleness towards you. That he seemed to save for you especially.

“I’m fine,” you replied before rolling over on your side away from him. Bucky sighed again before wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Hey, so I’m busy tomorrow, but when I get home why don’t we do something?” He asked into your shoulder before pressing a kiss to it. “Just the two of us?”

You nodded, but didn’t reply out loud because if you did he’d hear that you were crying. You’d rather not deal with it.

So the next day you went to get some stuff done. Grocery shopping and shit. On the way home you passed by this coffee shop, recognizing his car as some girl got into the passanger seat.

Your stomach felt like it was doing fucking somersaults on the way home. You tried to keep yourself busy. Not wanting to think about Bucky or his lying cheating face.

When the door opened, you could hear him set his keys down on the table beside the door. You were making dinner because you were hungry. He could worry about himself.

“Fuck it smells good in here, Baby,” he said, coming to hug you from behind before kissing your cheek.

You didn’t say anything at first. Instead you continued to cook and even though he noticed how quiet you were, he didn’t let go of you.

“What? No hello?” He asked, kissing your neck.

You tried to shrug him off, but no you just had to be engaged to a super assassin who was strong as fuck.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You shook your head because you were pretty sure if you’d say anything you’d explode. Not that he wouldn’t deserve it. You were trying to keep an ounce of dignity instead of blowing up like your brain was telling you too. “Nothing.”

Bucky leaned up against the counter beside you, bringing your face up so he could look at you. “Baby, I know you better than that.” He tried to smile to get you to open up then it faltered when he saw that you were clearly not in the mood. “C’mon. Just tell me what’s up.”

“Nothing, James.” You turned off the stove because now you’d lost your appetite. As you tried to walk away he grabbed your hand.

At hearing his first name, he crinkled his nose. “Baby,” he whined all pouty, “please. I let it go last night, but you’ve never not talked to me. What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that we’re supposed to be getting married in two months and you’re cheating on me.”

Bucky looked so taken aback. His face getting all scrunched up. “What?”

“Oh so now you don’t know what I’m talking about?” You scoffed. “I saw you.”

“Saw me doing what?” He scoffed out a laugh. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Bullshit!” You yelled. “You’re lying to me!”

His jaw clenched as you raised your voice. “Watch your tone,” he commanded. “I didn’t cheat on you. I have no idea what you’re even talking about.”

“Really? Well then who the fuck is Becca?” You finally asked.

Bucky pulled away and you finally turned to face him. “How did you...” he trailed off.

“So, it’s true. You’re cheating on me?” You asked with a sniffle.

He shook his head. “No! Of course not, Baby,” he said.

“You’re lying! I saw you, James. I fucking saw you with her!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders. “Let’s just calm down so we can talk.”

“I don’t want to talk. I want you out.”

He shook his head. “No, Baby,” he said. “I know how this looks, but I promise it’s not like that. I’m not... I’m not cheating on you. I’d never.”

“Fine then explain.”

Bucky hesitated. Closing his eyes like he was trying to find the right words.

“If you don’t tell me then I want you out.”

It wasn’t like this was the first time you and Bucky had ever fought. This was just the first time you’d ever done this. Usually when he messed up, he’d buy you flowers or kiss you until you forgave him. This time you needed to let him know that none of that would work.

He scrunched up his face before finally looking at you. “Okay. Becca is...” he took a deep breath. “Becca’s my great granddaughter.”

You also finally understood what it meant for it to be so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Bucky’s eyes bore into yours as he gave his answer.

“Can we just sit and talk?” He asked.

You nodded and he turned off the stove so he could grab your hand to lead you over to the couch. He sat you down in his lap and you couldn’t help it as you started crying into his chest because you felt like the worlds biggest asshole.

“Hey, Baby, don’t cry,” he said. “Not like you could have known. Hell not like I knew until recently.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him with tears in your eyes. “We usually tell each other everything.”

“Because... I dunno I was waiting for the right time. It’s kind of hard to go to your fiancé and ‘go hey meet my great granddaughter, Baby.’” He chuckled before wiping your tears. “Or that I have a son and he’s seventy-six.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Seriously?”

Bucky nodded and laughed. “I know right. It’s...” he sighed, “it’s so weird, but I’ve been hanging out with them and its been kind of great actually. Having a family. Hate that I didn’t get to see him grow up.”

“God I’m... such a bitch.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You would have never guessed,” he replied, placing a kiss to the side of your head. “So, yeah. Becca is my great granddaughter. I was picking her up from work. She’s seventeen.” He looked down then at you again. “I just... I wanna be in their lives. Make up for lost time.”

You nodded. “I get that.”

“I should have told you. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want you to get freaked out.”

“Bucky, I’d never get freaked out over something like that,” you said. “Things are different for you and I wanna be as understanding as possible.”

He smiled. “I know, but doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I know.” You put your head into his neck. “God I’m such an asshole.”

“No you’re not. Any woman would have assumed the worst like you did. I didn’t give you any reason not to.”

Your lip trembled as tears fell from your eyes again. “I’m sorry, Bucky.”

“I know, Baby,” he whispered.

“So, how did you find out?” You asked.

“Becca came looking for me. Saw stuff about the Avengers and saw me. My son James, his mom told him all about me so...”

You smiled, but you were still all teary eyed from the way you’d talked to him just now. “I’m so happy for you, Baby.”

“Yeah, well, they’re your family now too. If you still wanna get married.”

“Of course I do! I was just... I was scared to lose you so I freaked out.”

Bucky kissed your cheek. “You’re never gonna lose me, Doll. Besides, if anything this all just made me wanna be with you more. All I can think about is making babies with you.”

You laughed. “You would.”

“It’s true. All this just made me realize how bad I wanna have a family with you. I just... I mean our wedding is two months away, would it be so bad if we started trying now?”

You shrugged and he smiled before leaning into kiss you.

“Tell me you don’t want me to put a baby in this pussy and I’ll back off until the wedding,” he whispered into your ear.

“Daddy, I...”

You could feel him growing harder against your ass as he started grinding you into him. Fuck he knew how to get you to that point. You hated how it took pretty much nothing for you to want him to fuck the shit out of you.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispered in your ear. “Tell me you wanna have my baby.”

You sighed so deeply because his breath against your year was making you feel fucking feral. “I want it.” It was like you couldn’t even stop yourself from saying it.

“What do you want. Tell Daddy what you want.”

You looked up at him with those big eyes. “I want you to put a baby in me.”

“Yeah? I wanna make you a mommy, Doll,” he said, before putting his metal hand around your neck as he leaned you into him. He helped you pull your legging down until you could kick them off. Then kissed your shoulder as he spread your legs. “You want Daddy to put a baby in this little pussy, Baby?” He asked now that he’d pushed your panties to the side so he could play with your clit.

“Daddy,” you whimpered, leaning back so you could connect your lips to his. He started doing that thing again where his tongue fucked your mouth.

All that plus with the way he was touching you was making you forget all about how embarrassed you felt for accusing him of such a terrible thing. You should know that your daddy would never hurt you like that.

“Gotta teach you a lesson now,” he said. “Don’t you ever accuse me of something like that again. I should fucking spank you.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, your pussy feeling all tingly from the way his fingers were rubbing you making you let out a moan. “Daddy!”

“That’s it, Slut. Don’t you ever threaten to take this pussy from me again. It’s mine.” He growled into your ear and it made your stomach tighten especially when he started nibbling on it.

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Good little slut,” he said. “You know better. This is mine.” Bucky’s fingers now dipped into your pussy making you let out a whine.

“Yes, Daddy!” You mewled as he stuffed your pussy with his thick fingers. Metal hand going from your neck to your tits.

“You’re lucky I can’t wait to fuck you or else I’d be punishing you, Doll,” he said as he groped you.

You leaned back so you could kiss him again. Reached between the two of you so you could take hold of his dick through his pants. Enjoying how hard he felt through the denim. “I know, Daddy.”

“You’re so lucky I wanna cum in this pussy instead.” Thats when he tore his hands out of you before forcing you to stand up. Bucky undid his pants, pushing them and his boxers off before pulling you back down.

He didn’t waste any time in sinking you down on his dick. Hands on your ass as he helped you move up and down. “Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours,” you whimpered. “All yours.”

Bucky grabbed the hem of your top so he could pull it over your head, watching as your tits bounced. “That’s right, Doll. Not gonna pull that shit again.”

You shook your head and then threw it back as you moaned. Bucky pushed you to the side against the couch before getting up so he could climb on top of you.

“Fucking love this juicy pussy,” he said. His metal arm coming to grab at your thigh as he bent your leg over his shoulder.

He thrusted in and out of you, shoving himself inside of you as his dick stretched you out. You tugged at his t-shirt that he hadn’t taken off. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Your head was bent back against the couch as you let out this low moan. “Fuck, Bucky!” Your eyes were watering as you started to feel your orgasm coming to you.

“That’s it, Baby, I know you want it. Want Daddy to cum in your pussy?”

You nodded as he got up so he could hold your throat again because he knew how much you loved it. “God, yes. I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” He groaned. “Gonna cum on Daddy’s dick?” He was all in your face.

You reached up so you could tug on his hair. “Yes! Fuck, please.”

“Good because I’m gonna cum in you. Daddy’s gonna gonna fill you up, Y/N.”

You cried out wrapping your legs around him as you came so hard. Maybe it was from all that bullshit and you almost ruining everything because fuck it felt so damn good. Especially with the way he was fucking you through it.

That was when he got closer to you. His balls slapping against your ass as he started getting really deep into you. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Daddy’s gonna cum in this pussy, Baby. I know that’s what you need, Baby. Need Daddy to keep you pregnant.”

“Uh huh,” you moaned.

“I’m gonna keep getting you pregnant for as long as you can. Make you have so many babies.”

You couldn’t help it as the noises you were making started getting louder. “Yes. Please.”

That’s when his hips stilled as he started to fill you. His seed flooding into your womb for the first time. He put his head into your neck once he started moving them again, trying to make sure he could give you ever last drop.

He laid there on top of you. Breathing all heavy before pressing kisses into your neck again. “Was that our first time without a condom?” He asked.

“Uh huh,” was all you could say. It was like you couldn’t move.

Bucky chuckled seeing you all frozen before yawning and getting off of you. He grabbed you so he could carry you to your room, cradling you in his arms. When he finally laid you down he pulled the comforter over your body, pretty much tucking you in.

He took his shirt off before getting in beside you, “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you replied your brain feeling like it couldn’t think.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. You just made my mind into goo,” you grumbled.

Bucky smiled before kissing your nose. “Good.” He held you around your waist. “So,” he breathed, “what do you think about meeting everyone.”

“How much is everyone?” You asked with a smile, turning to him.

“There’s James. And, he had a son also named James and then he had a son named Kyle. He’s twenty-two.” Bucky laughed.

Your jaw dropped. “Jesus.”

He was still laughing. “I know, right. And he looks just like me. It’s kinda scary.” But, there was this softness in his face. It was different than the one he gave you, but there was almost this pride you’d never seen him have before. “Then there’s Becca. She’s so much like me it’s terrifying. She even has a friend like Steve. It’s awful.”

This time you laughed with him. “Would it be bad if I met them?” You asked.

He shook his head. “No. I’ve been wanting you to, they’ve even been asking, but I just... I didn’t wanna freak you out about being a great grandma.”

You pouted, creasing your brow. “Baby, I know how strange your life is to say the least. I’ve kinda made peace with the idea that there’s going to be random shit popping up. Kinda what I signed up for when I agreed to marry an old man.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped, before he patted your butt. “You’re such a brat,” he said before kissing you. Then he pulled you away. “Wait I didn’t tell you about Noel and Kimmy.”

You laughed and then wrapped your arms around him as he told you about the two youngest kids. God you felt like such an asshole now. Maybe a blowjob later would make it up to him.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x black!reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian Stan x black!reader

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gallavictorious · 3 years

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I saw your tags and I think you might need to write that fic of Ian and Mickey recreating their first time when Ian gets a tire iron. 🧐☺️

Okay, so this took me a hot minute, and I did it as a kind of speedwrite so it's rather short and not exactly thought out. I also went off (my own) script a little bit and it got unexpectedly sappy there for a moment... But! Have 1,4k very silly words of Ian and Mickey roleplaying their first proper get together because Mickey gave Ian a tire iron. I hope you enjoy it, dear one – thank you so much for the prompt! I had unexpected fun with it. ❤️

(Oh, and tags in questions are the ones on this post, so all credit to @jenatte for providing the original inspiration.)’

ETA: It’s on AO3 now too.

---

Ow. The fuck?

Reluctantly, Mickey blinked awake. The bright light suggested it was already near noon, but that wasn't what had woken it, that wasn't–

It came again: a hard poke to his back. Not the good kind, either, of Ian pressing his hard-on against Mickey's rear while they were snuggled close, but something cold and sharp. Insistent.

”What the fuck?” Mickey groaned, rolling over on his side and peering up at–

–his husband standing over him with... a fucking tire iron in his hands? Not just any tire iron either, but the one Mickey had gotten him as a gift for their anniversary as a mix of a joke, sentimentality and practicality; it was how they started, sure, and meaningful for it, but also a damn good thing to have, no home was complete without it. He thought that maybe Ian had overlooked the practial aspects, though, in favour of going a little misty-eyed before he started dropping half-assed quips about hard lenghts and Mickey had to roll his eyes and punch his husband in the arm a little bit.

Now Mickey's brow furrowed further as he tried to make sense of the scene. For a brief, terrifying moment, apprehension siezed his gut: was Ian having a manic episode, seeing enemies where there was none? But no; though he feigned a fearsome scowl, there was that glitter in Ian's eyes and a small quirk to his lips that spoke little of mania and everything of being a fucking dork and a tease.

”Give me the gun, Mickey,” he intoned, and Mickey was about to ask again what the hell and what fucking gun and maybe are you feeling okay man because perhaps Mickey didn't have quite as good a read on his husband as he thought he had–

–and then he got it, memory reasserting itself, and he could feel the fucking grin growing on his face quite of its own accord. He'd have felt stupid for not immediately catching on, but give him a fucking break, he'd been sleeping two seconds ago and his days of waking up with a start and ready to fight were slowly and thankfully becoming a thing of the past.

Ian's faux frown broke, as he was unable to contain an answering smile. He seemed inordinately pleased with himself, and with Mickey for getting it. Mickey would tell him he was a fucking idiot, but Ian looked so expectant that Mickey decided to play along instead. No harm in a little weird roleplay to make his husband happy, right?

Besides, it wasn't like Ian standing over him and looking vaguely threatening and very hot didn't do it for Mickey on several levels.

”Okay, fine,” he said, climbing to his feet while doing his very best to appear drowsy and uninterested. It had been instinctive back then, the plan of lulling the irate kid into a false sense of security before pouncing on him and kicking his teeth in for having the fucking gall to march into Mickey's room and demand things.

Mickey made a show of slowly turning towards the nightstand, just as he had all those years ago. He could feel Ian's eyes track his every movement, ready to react to the sneak attack he knew was coming. There'd be no taking him by surprise this time.

His face turned away and unseen, Mickey smiled. Or would it?

He grabbed hold of the bottle of lube on the table and spun around to throw it at Ian's head, took a quick step up and to the side, and as Ian gave a short yelp and involuntary raised his hands to protect his face, Mickey rushed him from the side to push him down on the bed. Ian went with a thud and an oof and Mickey didn't hesitate; he was on his husband in a second, straddling his chest and wrestling the tire iron from him grip.

”What the hell, Mick?” Ian demanded, not bothering to struggle but glaring up at Mickey with wide reproachful eyes. ”This isn't how it went!”

Mickey grinned. ”How it went is I kicked your scrawny ass,” he said smugly. ”Now, how am I gonna do that if you know which way I'm gonna move?”

”I was going to let you win!” Ian protested.

Mickey's eyebrows rose. ”Oh, you were gonna let me, huh?”

”Yeah,” Ian said slowly, eyes narrowing, ”I was going to let you.” And with that he grabbed hold of Mickey's arms and pushed him to the side while using his greater body weight as leverage to flip them around.

”Fucker,” Mickey spat, kicking at Ian's shins. He dropped the tire iron – not like he was actually going to hit Ian with it – to have both his hands free for a renewed assault on his sneaky little shit of a husband, but Ian had already wrapped his his stupidly big hands around Mickey's wrists and was pushing him down into the mattress, grinning triumphantly while Mickey struggled and squirmed beneath him.

”Guess I had a change of heart,” Ian said.

Mickey stilled, biting at his bottom lip as he considered. He was pretty sure he could still take Ian if he really wanted to, mostly on account of him being a ruthless motherfucker with no interest whatsoever in fighting fair. However, that required a level of playing dirty and pulling nasty jabs that went far beyond what he felt comfortable doing to his husband these days.

”Uh-huh, and what's the plan now, genius?” he demanded, opting for snark instead of violence.

Ian didn't answer. The look in his eyes had shifted from triumphant to something thoughtful, and softer.

”Do you think it'd have gone the same way if it'd been me on top of you instead of the other way around back then?” he wondered aloud.

Mickey made a face. It fucking figured that his sap of a husband would turn a promising round of foreplay into a game of sentimental what-if.

”I dunno,” he said, wriggling his hips a little to remind Ian that there were otherstuff they could be doing right now, stuff way more exciting than having a goddamn conversation. ”Does it fucking matter? It didn'thappen like that, and it never would have happened like that either, 'cause back then I didn't give a shit about fucking you up too bad, so I'd bashed your fucking brains out before letting get on top of me.”

He wanted to bite his tongue as soon as he'd said it, but it was too late: Ian's eyes had lit up and his thoughtful look transformed into a smirk. ”Well, I mean,” he drawled, leaning down to put his mouth to Mickey's neck, just for a moment, just a little bit of teeth in the brief touch.

”Fuck off,” Mickey said, but he was laughing. Ian's weight pinning him down was as exciting as it was annoying, as it was grounding.

Ian just hummed. He'd straightened again and was gazing down on Mickey with a look that was so damned fond it made a small blush work its way up Mickey's neck.

”I think we'd have ended up here anyway,” Ian decided. ”Somehow.”

”Oh yeah?”

”Yeah.”

Soft smiles then, as something warm and happy bloomed in Mickey's chest. For a moment, they just looked at each other, eyes resting on the face each of them knew best, loved best.

Ian let go of Mickey's wrist to put his hand on the side of his head, fingers tangling in Mickey's hair as Ian ran a thumb over his husband's cheek. He bent down again, but this time to capture Mickey's lips in a long, lingering kiss.

”I think I was always going to have you,” Ian murmured as they broke apart, forehead pressed against forehead.

A second later he yelped in surprised outrage as Mickey took advantage of his lapse in vigilance to grab hold of his hair and yank his head sharply to the side while pushing up to get Ian off him and halfway down onto the floor. Mickey followed him with a snicker, and off they went again, tousling and laughing and absolutely heedless of any noise they might make.

#gallavich #ficlet #asks #my stuff

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disconnected-dragon · 2 years

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resident evil 😏

oh boy. I'm ready for this. alright let's see:

My blorbo: prob Lucas Baker? IDK why, but he's such a fun character and villain it's sooooo fun to imagine what he'd do/how other characters would interact with him/what he'd do with his weirdo Mold powers (probably just use it to grab shit/reach up for wiring and machinery but might try to punch a gator like his uncle Joe and get his shit kicked in) and how he'd react to being jailed by Blue Umbrella if that happens and God he's just the best worst guy, y'know? All the other RE villains are so put together and slick, and don't get me wrong, it's nice to see Wesker and his suit and Alexia in her evening gown. But sometimes villains should be unapologetic grease goblins and that's what Lucas is and I love him for that so much. He's rough and tumble and his traps are clever but held together via spit/prayers and he can think of the exact way to wire a tripmine but is too lazy to properly bolt speakers into the wall and probably thinks he can wrestle gators and Evie and Uncle Joe and that idiot twink across the bar NOT LIKE THAT WAY ZOE SHUT UP. He's rolling around in the trash and he loves it and I don't want him to change. He's a spiky blorbo but best blorbo.

Scrunkly: Ethan Winters. He's the father I wished I had and didn't know I needed until he stared God in the face and blew it up with his dying breath. Boy. Boy. Also he's strangely relatable? At least to me. I tend to shut off in stressful situations and either blank face my way through it or scream the entire time, with no in between. So everyone bashing on him for being milque toast in RE7, it didn't really make sense? Like c'mon, the guy's brain is probably still back at "I FOUND MIA!" he doesn't have time to deal with the fact that he's having a fucking chainsaw fight with a hillbilly! And also, why is everyone yelling at him for doing it too much, like his kid's life is on the line, wouldn't you be working yourself up? IDK, he's just nice and friend-shaped anyway. He's the kind of guy that you could talk to about life, and he'd just nod while Rose sleeps in the carseat beside him or something. Or just-- let Heisenburg/Lucas climb all over him like a jungle gym while he just-- stands there accepting that it's his life now. Absolutely friend shaped.

Scrimblo Blimbo: Steve Burnside. I know he's all like cLaiRe and soRrY and his voice actor sucks in the original CV and I KNOW HE'S ANNOYING but he's just so-- cute? Underrated? He turns into a lizard in the end and I like lizards so I'm biased? IDK, I just like the boy and I don't think he deserves all the hate he gets? Like, even the FaTheEr line, I find that really heartbreaking. That kid is being forced to kill his own father after not seeing him for-- weeks? Months? How long was he in that jail? Yeah, he's sort of cringy and hot/cold, and trying to impress Claire, but that's pretty much understandable. Claire's the only person he's seen in-- how long? Also, this might just be me, but I feel like he's sorrrrrt of trans? He gives me the vibe of a guy that just figured out he passes and so is flying high despite his horrible situation while desperately trying to impress this one cute person that finally recognizes him as a man and ends up doing some really cringe things in the process. And-- wow I don't find that relatable at all /s. I dunno, at least bring him back for the lizard form, that was cool.

Glup Shitto: James Marcus. Not the weird scientist guy, well also the weird scientist guy because he started the whole thing, but mostly the leech James Marcus. That is a whole ass giant leech shaped into the form of a person, believing they are that person and just fucking seeking revenge for its death. Capcom just fucking did that and expected us to-- accept it? Holy shit, mAN! Genius. Brilliant. Stunning. I love it so fucking much. I'm not joking. I love Leech James Marcus so much. It deserves so much more then like one note in Umbrella Chronicles (tho that was pretty metal). #BringbackJamesMarcustheLeech

Poor Little Meow Meow: Alfred Ashford. IT'S ALfrEd aSHfoRd and I KNOW he's problematic and aged poorly but c'mon! He's evil and British and basically a bond villain and so fun to look at in the game. And the whole reason he did that is because his father favorited his sister over him so he thought that latching onto her would earn him favor and then she just slowly became the only person he could depend on and vice versa for her but she destroyed herself with T-V and left him with nothing-- man I just wanted him to survive and go on a journey of self-discovery through the arctic wasteland, which is now packed full of T-V infected polar bear/bug monsters that hide in the snow to wage guerilla warfare, and come out with his dignity dashed to bits but with a healthier viewpoint on life and his sister's memories and work. Maybe it's the corny British accent but he's just a meow meow.

horse plinko: As you can probably tell, my horse plinko tends to be universal, but tbh William/Annette Birkin. Those in particular, not their daughter Sherry, she's been through enough. A role reversal where Annette gets shot up and injects herself with G and William is forced to take charge and protect his daughter while confronting the literal embodiment of his own mistakes would be-- mm prime trauma material. On the other hand, if Annette just-- fucking left the lab before locking it down and put some effort into protecting her kid, she could've bounced back and become a Good Guy again. IDK, maybe it won't do anything but I wanna see 'em bounce around and hit the ground.

Eeby Deeby: Albert Wesker. Nobody has that much of a furious rivalry with someone for THAT long and bend over backwards THAT much just to see them again and rub it in their face that you're all awesome now just for purely intellectual reasons. Nobody screams their rival's name That Way as they died for totally heterosexual reasons. If he's dead, he's crackling in supergayhell for gay eugenics crimes.

#resident evil #oh god do i have to tag the characters now?#lucas baker #ethan winters #james marcus #the queen leech #alfred ashford #william birkin #annette birkin #albert wesker #jesus um #man this actually was really fun to write?#I want to go write some re fic now lol #might remake my blog again idk #but seriously im not joking about james marcus #they hated to see a leechboss winning

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suite43 · 3 years

Text

this was a commissioned peice of writing for @princemai . If you're interested in a commission, dm me!

Adjusting to life after the war was never going to be easy. How do you coexist with the people who've been trying to kill you for millions of years? It didn't take a nihilist to think that the peace wouldn't last.

Bumblebee counted himself pleasantly surprised that, well, something seemed to last. Peace wasn't the right word, but at least it was less "endlessely killing each other" and more "the entire universe hates us and we can't really blame them". But for the most part, these days, things were peaceful.

That didn't mean it was easy.

You wouldn't call it easy to wake up next to the closest thing you'd ever had to an arch-nemisis wrapped around you. You wouldn't quite know what to do with the fact that as much as he hates to admit it, he's afraid of the dark. And you wouldn't blame yourself for waking up sometimes afraid that you'll find a knife at your throat.

It wasn't easy. But it was peaceful, more or less. Because when Starscream kissed him in that way he did almost every morning, gentle and still half-asleep, Bumblebee could nearly forget he'd ever thought of the mech next to him as dangerous, and a part of him would wonder why it hadn't always been like this.

But then they get up, and the day would go on, and even though there's peace now, there's a lot of history, and Bumblebee can't help but feel like they're both just waiting for everything to turn sideways.

Bumblebee wants to trust Starscream. And he does, on some level at least. Immensely so. Enough to have trusted him with the fate of the universe. But every argument, every time the banter hits just a little bit too close to home, every time Starscream slips back into a crueler, more violent version of himself, Bumblebee wonders to himself if maybe this is it. After all, it wasn't really that long ago that they were shooting at each other.

Starscream has the same thoughts. Obviously, he won't admit it, but it's easy enough to see through his acts once you know him well enough - When did Bumblebee start to know him well enough? How the hell did that happen? It all feels so fast - But sometimes when there's a certain tension in his wings and his fingers curl up ever so slightly and his eyes shoot around, planning his escape, Bumblebee knows that Starscream is just as scared as he is.

It's not always like that. There are moments when they're alone where it feels like none of that matters. They sit together on their couch and they're quiet as they both do their own thing, and Bumblebee shifts to lean against Starscream's shoulder and Starscream wraps one arm around him, his hand idly tracing small circles on Bumblebee's plating, and it just feels right. Bumblebee feels more safe there than anywhere in the universe, curled into the side of one of the most dangerous people in the universe. In a moment like that, he'd tear his spark out and put it in Starscream's hands if he asked him to.

But... It wasn't that long ago that he watched people he loved die at those hands. Those same strong, clever hands that slotted perfectly into his like they were built that way, like everything in their lives had led them to this specific touch. Bumblebee wasn't a big believer in destiny but sometimes everything would line up just so, and if he'd been slightly more of a romantic he'd've called them soulmates.

It was this confusing blend of love and hate, of forgiveness and grudge and grief and adoration that didn't make sense at all and yet when Starscream knows exactly what to order him when they go out it makes perfect sense. And, somehow, it works out.

They've never really talked about... well, whatever this is. It's clearly a relationship, at this point. It's hard to argue for 'just friends' after that many rounds of... well, you know what. It's equally as hard after catching each other after god-knows-how-many nightmares, after thousands of late-late-night conversations, after the way that making each other laugh became the easiest thing in the world, after the way that they would whisper sweet complements between each other like a secret because it was far too embarrasing to say loudly.

So yeah, it was a relationship. But "open, honest communication" was not exactly in Starscream's skillset, and, well, Bee wasn't really sure he wanted to talk about it either. Putting a name on it felt. Dangerous. Like it'd ruin it. There'd be too much pressure, too much commitment, too much... truth. It felt like confessing something that he wasn't ready for.

It was one thing to sleep with Starscream. It was another to, say, kiss Starscream. It was a third thing to literally sleep with Starscream, to trust the second-least-trustworthy person on Cybertron to be with him at his most vulnerable. But to be dating Starscream? To introduce Starscream as his partner? As his conjunx? That was a world of different things that Bumblebee was absolutely not prepared to handle.

What was he supposed to say? Oh, by the way, this is my conjunx. He's killed more people than my brain can even comprehend, but he also saved the universe that one time so it's totally cool now, don't worry!

But he loved him, and that was the problem. He loved Starscream so much, and he wanted everyone in the universe to know about the funny, thoughtful, brilliant person that he loved with all his heart.

And didn't it mean something that Bumblebee had seen Starscream at his absolute worst, and still decided that loving him was worthwhile? It wasn't like Bee was just flailing at the whims of his emotions, he chose to be here. Well, not the first time, that had just kind of happened. But after that, he'd chosen to stay, because loving him seemed worth the trouble of hating him, right? And Starscream was getting better, and that was a good thing.

And who was he worried about knowing? The handful of people Bumblebee would've bothered to tell if they did get married already knew the situation, and it wasn't exactly like either of them were really public figures anymore. The government job Windblade had gotten to keep Starscream busy was mostly just paperwork, and aside from the odd job here or there Bumblebee didn't do much. He'd basically retired. So they weren't going to be the talk of the town or anything. Besides, it's kind of old news, there'd been rumors of them doing something together pretty much since the second the war ended. It wasn't true then, but by now the scandal had kinda worn off and it was more of a "yeah, no shit" kind of gossip.

Still. A decade or so of closeness didn't really feel like long enough for a lifetime commitment, especially after what, four million years of hating each other beforehand?

But... Life is shorter than you expect it to be, right? They'd both died once over the course of this whatever-it-was. And the second time, they really had thought it'd stick, and Starscream sorta-haunting him from another dimension or whatever seemed like it was a permanent commitment, and that didn't scare Bumblebee at all. It sounded nice, not having to be alone again. This was like that, except he could be alone, sometimes, because neither of them could walk through walls or locked doors anymore so all he had to do for some privacy was tell Starscream to politely fuck off for a bit, which was a plus, right? Way more pracitcal.

"Can't we talk about this in the morning?" Starscream complained, eyes half shut, snapping Bumblebee out of his train of thought.

"What?" Bumblebee asked, confused.

"I don't want you to propose while we're drunk and you're rambling, idiot," Starscream was laying in Bee's lap, nuzzling his face into Bee's stomach plating. They were holding hands. When did that happen? "We can talk about it later."

Oh, shit.

"How much of that did I say out loud?"

"I dunno, you talk a lot. You're keeping me up."

"Shit. Sorry."

"S'okay. Your voice is nice."

"Oh." It was quiet for a minute.

"It's okay if you hate me. I get it," Starscream said.

"I don't hate you," Bee responded, blinking a few times, trying to shake off the feeling of spinning. "I like it when you're here."

"But you kind of have to hate somebody a little to love them, right?" Starscream shifted, staring up at the ceiling, head still resting on Bee's stomach. "I mean, it's hard to be with someone all the time. Especially when you're stubborn and stupid, and you do stupid obnoxious things and I hate it. But if you weren't those things I hate, you wouldn't entirely be you. And I don't just like parts of you, I like you, and I can hate things you do while still knowing that it's you, and I love who you are. Even when we piss each other off. It's still you. Right?"

"Do you think i'm stupid? I'm not stupid."

"You're missing the point."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Stop apologizing so much. I hate it when you apologize." Starscream's hand squeezed his a little tighter.

"Oh... uh. sorry."

"You make me feel... like..." Starscream just kind of trailed off.

"Yeah, I know. you too... uh. I mean. you make me. uh. you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"This is good, right?"

"Mmm, it's gonna feel shitty in the morning, but right now it's good."

"What about after tommorow?"

"I don't know. Ask me then."

"Hm."

"I don't have a plan, Bee. That's not normal for me. But I don't need you to tell me it's going to be like this forever, because it probably won't be. Things don't work out like that for us. But right now, for the first time in my entire life, I'm genuinely satisfied. Can we just enjoy that? I don't know how to be happy, Bee. I don't know how to handle it. But I'm trying to make this work. We can go back to shooting each other tommorow if that's easier for you, but right now, I'm happy."

"Yeah? Yeah. Me too. God, I'm happy," Bumblebee pulled their joined hands up, pressing a kiss to Starscream's knuckles where they intersected. "I'm happy that you're happy. I want you to be happy."

"I know," Starscream said. He muttered something else, but it was quiet and slurred and Bee couldn't quite make it out. In his head, Bee imagined it was something along the lines of I love you.

#the prompt was 'so why arent bee and starscream conjunxed' and i got to go from there #it was interesting! this is pretty stream of conciousness so i hope its interesting to yall as well!#red.doc #starbee #maccadams

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backtothefanfiction · 3 years

Text

WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW | Chapter 2

A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY

Summary: Santiago takes you home after Benny’s birthday drinks. Neither of you could have planned what happens next.

Warnings: Mature 18+ ONLY!! All aboard the smut train, next stop feels station. This chapter features strong language and scenes of a sexual nature, I’m talking watermelon sugar high (oral, female receiving), mentions of sex.

Word Count: 3950

A/N- Here’s chapter two featuring our boy Santiago Garcia. This is the event that kicks off this whole shit show. I had so much fun writing this and hope you enjoy reading it. As always, although I have read through this multiple times, I do a lot of my work in the early hours of the morning so some mistakes may have slipped through the cracks. Anyway... enjoy!

CHAPTER TWO | 3 YEARS AGO

“Ow Benny, you kicked me.” You shouted over the music of the bar that was blaring around you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Benny mumbled as he climbed back into the booth beside his brother, flinging his arm out to wrap around him, almost hitting him in the face. Everyone at the table watched as Will narrowly dodged his younger brothers fist. “Uhhgg this has been the best birthday ever.” Benny drunkenly shouted as he slumped against his brother's shoulder.

“I should probably get him home.” Will shouted over the music.

“Uhhh buzzkill.” Benny groaned, but he was beginning to lose consciousness and everybody laughed.

“Come on, I'll help you get him to the car.” Frankie said as he began to try and slide out of the booth. You felt the seat dip as he got up from where he'd been sat beside you. You slid into his spot allowing you and Santi, who had been squeezed up together with Fish on that side of the table, to spread out more. “Come on birthday boy.” Frankie said, reaching across the booth on the other side of the table to haul Benny up so Will could get out and they could all go.

You politely got up to give hugs and kisses on cheeks goodbye. Santiago slid across his seat so he could shake hands from a better position without actually having to get up. “You're such a lazy old man.” you teased him as he slid back into the booth allowing you to sit down again when your friends had gone.

“It's my knees.” He said in response. You also said his famous line at the same time, mimicking him and his usual answer you knew so well. “Seriously Querida?” he raised his eyebrows at you before giving you a playful jab in your side and making you giggle. You reached forward for your drink to take a sip of it through the straw, a playful look in your eyes.

Santi reached for his beer bottle he had been nursing most of the night in front of him. There was barely anything left. He knocked back the rest of it before slamming the empty bottle back onto the table. He watched you intently as you continued to sip on your drink, which was mostly just melted ice now. “You quite finished?” he asked you, his eyebrows motioning to the glass in your hand. “You want to get out of here?” you silently nodded your response and he grabbed your jacket from where it had been pushed up into the corner of the booth beside him. You took that as your queue to get up and he held out the jacket for you as he came to a stand, a small groan escaping from his lips as his knees finally stretched out after being sat for so long.

You turned your head back to him as you flicked your hair out, fixing the jacket collar with your fingers. You shot him a smile and he placed a protective hand at the small of your back as he lead you outside.

The air outside was crisp and made you giggly. “Come on giggles.” Santi said as you leant into him, his arm coming around you firmly, leading you towards his truck.

You kicked off your shoes, pulling your legs up onto the seat with you, getting comfy for the ride home. You watched Santiago walk around the front of the truck and climb into the drivers seat. “Really?” he questioned when he saw you.

“What? I took my shoes off.” he let out a low chuckle as he shook his head climbing into the truck.

As he pulled out of the parking lot he looked over to you. He could tell you were thinking about something but he wasn't sure what it was, he was about to ask you when you said, “Can we go back to yours? I'm not ready to go home yet.”

“Yeah, of course.” You were both silent again as you watched him take the next right towards his house instead of left towards your own.

------

The paving stones beneath your feet were cold as you climbed down from Santi's truck. You were feeling a little more sober now but you still couldn't muster up the energy to put your shoes on just to walk from the truck to his house. Santiago walked ahead of you up the path to open his front door. You slammed the passenger door shut and began making your way up the path. The trucks lights behind you flashed as Santiago hit the button on his keys to lock the doors and the truck made a small beep. You had been so distracted by your own thoughts, it made you jump, your shoes slipping out of your fingers, hitting the ground and a small yelp escaped your lips. Santiago turned to see your hand clutched over your chest and he chuckled. You picked up your shoes, throwing one at him. It missed, flying past his shoulder and in through the now open front door behind him.

“Don't laugh at me.” you whined sticking out your bottom lip as he let you pass him into the small house first.

“I'm sorry.” he said, his head tilting in mock sympathy, “I didn't realise that me locking my truck was so scary.”

“Uhhhhg noooo.” you whined as you made your way over to his sofa, falling back on it over the arm rest, your legs dangling over the side. You suddenly propped yourself up to look at him as he closed the front door. “Don't you dare tell the others.” your voice blurted out urgently in panic as he turned to face you.

“Sorry too late.” Santiago said reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“Santi NO!” you squealed, flying off the sofa, running to tackle the phone out of his hand. He mocked you by lifting it above his head so you couldn't reach it. You continued to laugh between fake noises of struggle as you played along. “Santi give me the phone.”

“Nope. Not happening.” he mocked, pushing your arms down with his free hand.

“Santi, give me the phone.”

“You want it, just take it.” he said, his hand never lowering. He laughed at you as you continued trying to stretch up for it. You even moved around to try and climb up his back to get it. He kept passing it between his hands away from your grasp.

You finally gave in with an exasperated grunt, stepping back, placing your arms across your chest. “Fine.”

“Fine?” he questioned, his eyebrows rising.

“Negotiation time.”

“Ahhh there it is.” he says going to take a seat on the arm rest of the sofa.

“What's it gonna take for you to not tell the boys.”

“Hmmmm....” he brought his hand up to his chin, playing along. You began to take a few steps towards him as he thought over his demands. “How about a kiss?” he said catching you off guard and making you stop in your tracks.

He watched as you thought it over. “Fine.” you quickly conceded and began to step forward to give him a quick peck.

“Uh, Uh, Uh.” he said holding a hand up in front of you to stop you. He could read you like a book. “A proper kiss. It has to last at least 7 seconds.”

“Why 7 seconds?”

“Dunno seems like a good enough time for a kiss to last. Any longer for a single kiss feels weird and any shorter, well that's just not a proper kiss.” You take a moment to think over his logic. You'd never kissed any of the guys before, not that you hadn't thought about it. I mean, they were gorgeous. You had just never considered any of them being interested in you back in that way. Then a thought came to you, 'was this Santi's way of making a move?' You shook the thought away, this was Santiago 'Pope' Garcia. This was just him being his usual charming self and doing whatever it took to get a rise out of you.

He raised his eyebrows as if to indicate he was waiting and you quickly checked yourself realising you were getting way too in your head about this. “Fine.” the word fell out of your mouth before you even realised what you had actually just agreed to. You took a final step forward closing the space between the two of you, your body reacting quickly, not giving you a chance to back out.

Your eyes followed him as he stood up, his hands finding a place on either side of your face. “Remember, 7 seconds querida, I'll be counting.” he raised his eyebrows at you. Your head gave a slight nod before he was guiding your lips towards his own. Your eyes closed instantly on contact and your body softened. His lips were soft, moulding against your own like little pillows. They were the perfect temperature, not too warm or too cold. You inhaled deeply through your nose wanting to take in his sent now he was so close and melt into it. You reached your hands up, letting them rest on his arm muscles for support.

Santiago felt you relax against his fingers, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a smile ever so slightly. His brain stopped keeping track after only 4 seconds. He moved his lips slightly, trying his luck, wanting to deepen the kiss. He inhaled through his nose triumphantly when your lips followed suit. His hands, either side of your face, became tenser as he pulled you even closer into the kiss, his lips and their movements becoming firmer. He almost lost it when a small gasp escaped your mouth.

He boldly took a step back, guiding you with his hands and lips as he pulled the two of you back towards the sofa. You both paused as the backs of his knees hit the couch cushion behind him. You broke the kiss, opening your eyes to look at him but didn't pull away. You bit your bottom lip slightly as you looked into his eyes, taking a moment. 7 seconds had clearly long passed, but the look in both your eyes was clear, neither of you wanted this to stop.

You boldly closed the distance between your lips again, the movement of your lips becoming more intentional as a slight tingle took over them. He let his knees give way and he pulled you on top of his lap onto the couch, your knees finding a place either side of his legs. You felt the tip of his tongue graze your bottom lip, asking for entry and the corners of your lips worked their way into a smile as you happily opened your lips wider, your own tongue coming out to meet his somewhere in the middle.

One of his hands came down to rest on your thigh, his fingertips grasping at the flesh at the edge of your skirt. A rush flowed through your body, ending with a flutter and warmth between your legs. Your body took over then as you slowly began to grind down onto him and his breathing hitched slightly in response. Your lips passionately fought one another for dominance as his hand worked its way up your thigh until it found a home on your ass, flicking the back of your skirt out over his knees. His grasp became firmer as he pulled you closer into him allowing you to feel his growing erection beneath you. You pulled your lips away to let out a gasp. Santi's lips never left your skin as he dragged them across your jaw before using his hand that was still placed at the side of your head, to tilt it back allowing him access to your neck as you breathed in quickly.

Your hands found a home around the back of his neck, your fingers carding through his hair. “Fuck querida.” he growled into your neck as you used your new hold to really grind down into him. You pulled back slightly and he looked up at you from your new position with hungry eyes. The hand he had still had at the side of your head, slid down your body to find a home on your other thigh, before it too worked its way up your leg and found a home on your other ass cheek. Your forehead rested against his as you both gazed into each others eyes, panting heavy, as he used his hands to continue to roll you against his erection.

Your breathing hitched and you let out a moan as the friction from his jeans rubbed against your clothed clit in just the right way. His lips latched back onto yours hungrily, stifling the noise. You could feel the heat between your legs rising, your vagina fluttering with stimulation. Santiago's fingers ghosted under the elastic of your underwear that covered your ass cheeks, pulling them apart, making you both aware of just how wet you'd become. Santi's lips pulled tight with a sneer, his hips rolling up to meet yours. “Fuck princessa, I want you so bad.” he snarled against your lips.

You're head rolled back in bliss as a response to his words and he began to attack your neck again, his teeth nibbling gently at the flesh before smoothing it over with his tongue and lips. You gasped. “You want it, just take it.” you repeated his own words from earlier back at him breathily.

“Fuck.” he exclaimed before reaching a hand to your face, forcing you to look at him. “You serious?” he asked questioningly. You sucked your lips into your mouth as you gave him a small nod, your eyes blown wide. “Fuck.” he mumbled again to himself before latching back onto your lips, the moment you had relaxed them again.

You felt the world suddenly shift as he lifted you up and flipped you around, sitting you on the couch. He removed his lips from your own, kissing down your jaw. Your head relaxed against the back of the sofa, your eyes closing in bliss, as he continued to move his lips down your neck. You felt him shift backwards as he knelt down on the floor in front of you, his hands finding a home on your hips as he buried his face into your chest. His teeth and lips nibbled and sucked at the flesh as his hands moved down from your hips, sliding down your thighs before moving up your skirt. He hooked his fingers around the waist band of your underwear and began pulling them down. He pulled his mouth away from your breasts. “I want to taste you querida.” he said as he removed your underwear from your legs.

You tilted your head down to watch him as he threw your underwear behind him, his now free hands moving back up your legs to lift up your dress. “Holy shit.” he said as he got a full look at your pussy already wet and ready for him. “Just when I didn't think you could get any more perfect.” he said leaning forward to nip at the inside of your thighs. He shifted his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the sofa, closer to his waiting mouth. His breath was warm against your lips and you squirmed slightly in anticipation. It wasn't much, but it was enough for Santiago's grip on your hips to become firmer, holding you in place.

“Oh fuck.” you cried out as his tongue suddenly caught you by surprise, licking a stripe upwards through your folds, the tip of it flicking against your clit before he sucked it inbetween his lips. Your response made him growl deep in his throat, the vibrations passing through his lips, buzzing against the sensitive bud. You rolled your head back again as you let out a moan.

Santiago pulled away slightly, adjusting himself, before reattaching his mouth to your pussy again. “Oh my god.” you moaned, one hand coming to rest on his head, your fingers lacing between the curls, as his tongue continued to explore you.

You stayed like that for a few long minutes, Santiago only using his tongue to ravish you. His pressure and technique constantly changed, working you up slowly making your breathing heavy. Every now and again he'd pay extra attention to your clit, flicking it quickly with the tip of his tongue before once again sucking it in between his lips, over stimulating you just enough to make you squirm but never long enough for you to find any actual release. The third time he did that you decided you'd had enough. As he released your clit from his lips with a small pop you grabbed his curls tightly forcing him to look up at you. “Stop teasing me.” your voice was commanding. A shit eating grin spread out across his face and he let out a small chuckle.

“As you wish.” he raised his eyebrows, teasing you once more. You were about to bite back with another comment when you felt two of his fingers thrust into your wet core.

“Fuck.” you squealed, more than satisfied with finally having something to actually fill the aching hole. Santi chuckled again before licking your clit back into his mouth once more.

His fingers began to move agonisingly slowly as he gently stretched you out, his mouth still preferring to do the bulk of the work as his tongue focused on your clit. As he curled his fingers against the inside walls of your dripping cunt, he could sense you growing restless. Your breathing was getting shallower and your moans becoming ever more insistent as you felt him drawing your orgasm from you slowly. Santiago could feel you beginning to clench around his fingers and he began to move them faster. He pulled his head back, replacing his tongue with his thumb, circling it around your clit. “Come on baby, I want to see you fucking cum for me.” he said as he sat himself up on his knees.

You latched your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. His fingers curled up into you even more as he adjusted their speed making you moan into his lips. You pulled your mouth away from his, pressing your forehead firmly against his own, panting furiously, your mouth hanging open, unable to form words. Your hips jerked and your pussy clamped around his fingers as your orgasm took over your entire body. “O-OH F-Fuck!” you stuttered out, finally finding your voice again and it made Santi grunt in satisfaction, a large smile breaking out over his face as he watched you come undone.

Santiago's fingers slowed slightly, helping you work through your release, his other hand pushing your hip further into the couch, holding you down, grounding you. Your lips found one another again as your heaving body attempted to relax once more. Santiago's fingers came to a stop completely, pulling out of you as he felt the final waves of your orgasm leave your body. “Fuck, that was so fucking beautiful.” he exhaled into your lips between kisses. “I have no idea what I did to deserve that, but I want to do it again.” he said his head slumping into your breasts and you giggled.

“I think that can be arranged.” you said playfully.

He lifted his head up to look at you again. “Right now?” he asked, tilting his head. A massive grin broke out over your face.

“Sure...” you started, “-but, not before I've taken care of you.” Santiago could have sworn he'd died and gone to heaven. He hung his head, grinning to himself as you climbed off the sofa and began making your way towards his bedroom. “Hey you coming or not?” you called back down the hall to him. God this was gonna be the best night of his life.

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

You had woken up in Santiago's house the following morning to find yourself in bed alone. You used the extra space to stretch out your muscles after a long night of bliss. You smiled to yourself, the memory of the five orgasms Santiago Garcia had pulled from your body, still fresh in your mind. It had been a passionate night full of full body massages and cuddles between fucking. Both of you wanting to make the most of this moment, neither of you sure when you'd get the opportunity again. You both knew you were leaving the country on separate missions in a matter of days.

“Santi?” you called out into the quiet house. There was no response. You furrowed your brow as you climbed from the bed to search for him.

You picked up the clothes you had been wearing the night before and put them on as you padded barefoot around his house. “Santi?” you called out again. He wasn't there. You grumbled to yourself. “Unfucking believable.” you said as you searched the living room for your underwear. “I can't believe he'd just fuck and dash and leave me alone in his own fucking home.”

You found your jacket, searching the pockets for your phone to see if he'd even left you a message. Nothing. You began constructing a strongly worded text message when the sound of the front door unlocking behind you, made you turn around.

Santiago froze in the doorway at the sight of you in his living room. “Oh you're up.” he said. “I didn't want to wake you.” In his hand was a small tray with two cups of coffee in it and clutched desperately in his fingers below it was a large paper bag. “I didn't have anything in, so I popped up the road to grab us something to eat.” he continued, pulling his keys out of the door before kicking it shut with his foot.

You quickly pressed the backspace button on your phone, suddenly feeling foolish for thinking Santiago would treat you the way you thought he had. “You okay?” he asked as he made his way over to a small dining table to place the coffees and bag down.

“Uh, yeah.” you said blinking away the startled expression on your face. He held out one of the coffee cups for you and you tentatively stepped across the room to take it from him. “I'm sorry.” you said shaking your head. “I thought you'd...” your voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“You know I'd never do that to you right?” he said, his eyebrows furrowed. “I mean even if last night hadn't been the best sex of my life.” he paused a moment as he searched your face. “You don't regret it do you?”

“No. No of course not.” you quickly said, feeling the need to defend yourself.

“Good.” he said, turning to reach into the paper bag. “You like croissants right?” he asked pulling one out and handing it to you.

“Yeah, I love croissants.” your voice was soft, a small smile breaking out on your face. You couldn't believe he remembered. “Uh hey Santi?”

“It's okay, I won't say anything to the boys about last night.”

“Thank you.”

Santiago had driven you home after breakfast. You laughed and joked the whole way home, never once talking out loud about the great night you had shared together, but you both kept it at the fore front of your minds, replaying it again and again.

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

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#triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #will miller #william ironhead miller #will miller x reader #benny miller #what benny doesn’t know

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odos-bucket · 3 years

Text

So I was reading @andillwriteyouatragedy‘s incredible Brand New Day where Bruce and Clark adopt a young Dick Grayson together, and was thinking about a sort of companion story where they take in Jason together too. Using that story as a rough reference, I’m gonna say they’ve been together for a decade or so here. Dick is somewhere in his late teens. I’m figuring Clark probably offers to tag along on Bruce’s annual trip to crime alley every year. Bruce always politely declines. It’s basically become a part of the day’s bleak tradition. Clark is surprised when for once his offer is accepted. Later on, if pressed, neither of them would be able to pinpoint what was different about that night that made Bruce decide that it might be okay to have some company for once. Clark probably feels weird about it at first. Even though he’d asked Bruce if he wanted company, and Bruce had said yes, which he never would have unless he’d absolutely meant it (and Clark knows that). It still feels a little like he’s intruding on something private, even sacred. Then of course they get there, and there’s nothing going on. Superman’s senses don’t pick up the slightest hint of disruption anywhere in the neighborhood. Maybe they start patrolling around it anyways, maybe they just wander for a couple of blocks. Sooner or later they overhear someone talking about how it’s this night every year that Batman comes calling. Local criminals have picked up on the fact that if they just keep their heads down for this one specific night they can pretty much avoid him. Bruce is all grumbly about it, and immediately goes into ~strategy mode~ like, “Okay, I’ll have to start coming here on different days, on an irregular schedule.” He immediately opens up a dozen different tabs in his brain with calendars, and crime statistics, and is thinking a mile a minute, because that’s what he does. He’s kind of agitated about needing to change something that’s been a ritual for so long (because Batman has OCD, fight me) and he’s annoyed at himself for being bothered by it. Absolutely none of this sudden inner turmoil is detectable in his expression or body language. But Clark knows Bruce, knows how he reacts to things, and that there’s no way he’s not annoyed right now. He says, “Sounds like tonight will be a bust if we stay here,” then when Bruce grunts in response, continues, “We could go back to the manor. Watch a movie.” Then after a pause. “Or we could patrol somewhere else.” A moment passes. When Bruce says, “Okay,” Clark isn’t sure which suggestion he’s agreeing to, but they start back towards the car. It’s not a long walk, but they aren’t moving particularly quickly. By the time they get back to the batmobile it only has one wheel.

Clark frowns as he walks closer, before being stopped in his tracks by a surprising sound. It’s a sound that he recognizes immediately, that he hears all too infrequently. Bruce is laughing. Clark’s mouth quirks into a half smile. He takes a few steps forward, thinking about just picking the whole thing up and flying it back home. Then from a few paces ahead he hears Bruce’s low, gravelly Batman voice say, “Hi there.” Once he’s tuned in to the idea of another presence nearby, it becomes obvious to his advanced senses that someone is lurking behind the car. “Shit,” a small voice says. Bruce takes a few steps closer. “Planning on finishing the job?” He gestures to their remaining wheel. Clark shifts until he can get the kid partially in his sight without the aid of x-ray vision. He’s small, and looks to be somewhere in his pre-teens. “I got no idea what you’re talking about,” he says quickly. “Oh really?” Bruce asks. The boy glares at him. “Nice tire iron,” Bruce continues. “Comes in handy.” “I bet it does.” No sooner than the words are out of Bruce’s mouth, the tool is colliding with his shin. The boy shoots out from behind the car, and down a nearby street. Clark starts toward Bruce, who quickly gestures for him to go after the kid instead. He catches up with him in less than a second. When his hand falls onto the kid’s shoulder he freezes, muscles tightening throughout his body, and heart rate speeding up rapidly. The fear response is so sudden and extreme that Clark finds himself pulling away as if he’s been burned. The anxiety around being feared is something he’s mostly left in his past, but there’s a deep rooted insecurity within him that it still prods at. The kid stumbles when he starts to run again, and by then Bruce has caught up. They hang back, but trail after the boy at a distance, until they reach a condemned building a few blocks away. “Should we go in?” Clark asks. “Probably where my tires are,” Bruce says, before climbing through an uncovered doorway. It isn’t hard to find him again. There aren’t too many heartbeats in the area to distinguish between. When Bruce opens the door to the dilapidated room, the boy’s pulse rate jumps through the roof. Nothing changes externally about him though, and Clark wonders whether or not Bruce can tell that he’s afraid of them. There’s the slightest vibration to his words when he speaks. “Okay, take your stupid tires already. I’m sorry, all right? Just leave me alone!” Bruce isn’t looking at his tires. He’s looking around the room, no doubt noticing the same things that Clark has, mold, water damage, a broken window. The place is freezing. Then in the corner there’s a cardboard box with some pasta and canned goods in it, a small stack of books, and a mattress on the floor. “Do you… live here?” Bruce asks. “Yeah. What of it?” Bruce takes a few more steps into the room. “Where are your parents, son?” Clark asks. “Mom’s dead. I dunno where Dad is; don’t really care, if I’m being honest. Now take your stuff and go already!” He’s holding the iron up again, wielding it in a manner that’s clearly meant to be threatening. Bruce plucks it out of his hands with relative ease, inspects it, then turns it around and hands it back. “Move your thumb up like this, and you’ll have a sturdier grip. And don’t stand with your legs so far apart, it’ll put you off balance.” He sighs. “What’s your name?” “… Jason.” He grabs the tire iron back, shuffling to adjust his grip and footing, keeping his stance defensive. Bruce looks around the place again. “You can’t stay here, Jason.” “Oh yeah? Says who? I can take care of myself! Been doing it for long enough.” Bruce glances up at Clark, who can see the wheels turning in his head, before looking back at Jason. “I’d really like the wheels of my car back,” he says carefully, then hurries to continue before Jason can interject. “Can I make you a deal? We’ll buy you dinner if you reattach the batmobile’s tires?”

There’s a fast food place a couple of blocks away that’s open 24 hours. Jason agrees to accompany them, but walks a few yards behind. The employees at the place aren’t at all phased by the appearance of the two vigilantes. Bruce inspects a suspicious stain on one of the walls, while Jason and Clark look at the menu posted above the counter. They order- Bruce gets two of what Jason asks for- then go outside to eat. Bruce is lost in thought as they exit the restaurant, wondering what it would take to bring free food trucks to the area. Jason’s halfway done with his meal by the time they sit down on the sidewalk. “Do you go to school around here?” Bruce asks, wanting to put together a fuller picture of the boy’s situation. Jason gets a distant look in his eyes in response to the question. He finishes chewing slowly, swallows, then shakes his head, clearing his throat before replying. “No. Not for a long time now.” He shrugs. “I got all I needed to out of it.” “You had some pretty advanced reading material back at your place for someone who didn’t finish middle school.” Bruce recalled seeing The Odyssey amongst his few possessions, as well as a couple of Shakespeare plays. Jason shrugs again. “Reading’s not that hard.” “Some people find it very difficult,” Clark says. “Some people are stupid.” Bruce cuts in before Clark can start on the gentle reprimand he can see him preparing. “Ever think that maybe you’re just smart?” Jason gives him a curious look, like that really wasn’t a possibility that he had considered before, then takes another bite, and stares off thoughtfully. “So, Homer,” Bruce prompts. Jason nods. “It’s a fun story. Odi-seuss is a dick though.” Bruce resists both the compulsion to correct his pronunciation of ‘Odysseus’, and Alfred’s voice in the back of his head urging him to tell the kid not to swear. “What makes you say that?” He asks instead. Jason looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Gee, I don’t know, maybe all the pillaging, and murdering he does throughout the entire book.” “Poem,” Bruce corrects. “What?” “The Odyssey is a poem.” “Wait, really?” Bruce hums an affirmative. “Huh… cool. But the point still stands.” “I’m inclined to agree with you. Have you ever read The Scarlet Pimpernel?” Jason shakes his head. “It’s been a personal favorite for a long time,” says Bruce. Clark shoots him an amused grin. “I’ll keep an eye out for anyone throwing out a copy,” Jason says. Bruce frowns. “You have a library around here.” The remark earns him an unamused snort. “It’s a Gotham library; people don’t go there to read books, they go there to buy, sell and/or ingest drugs, and they tend not to be too happy with anybody who’s lingering around while they’re doing it.” Bruce feels a pang, not for the first time that night. “Jason,” he starts, before realizing he isn’t sure what to say. Jason keeps angled to watch him expectantly as he rises to deposit his napkins and bag in a nearby trashcan. “We’d like to help you,” Clark says. “Yeah,” Jason scoffs. “Right. Just how do you plan on doing that? Because I’ve heard that before. I’ve done the whole foster care thing already, and I’m not about to go through it again.” “No,” Bruce is quick to agree. “But there are residential schools in the city. We could help you to get enrolled in one.” Jason seems taken aback by the offer. “…Why?” He asks slowly. “Well for one, because kids should be in school. You’d be provided with room and board for the duration of your time there, which would leave you with less to worry about.” He reaches out to pass Jason the second takeout bag. He’s still lingering at a distance from them. “At least think about it?” “No. I mean, like, why?” Bruce’s eyebrow raises, tugging at the material of his cowl. “What’s in this for you?” Jason continues. “Why do you even care?” “It’s our job,” Clark says. “You’re job is to beat up bad guys.” Clark smiles when Jason mimes punching someone, before saying, “Our job is to help people.” Jason purses his lips. “Don’t boarding schools cost money?” “Most of them offer scholarships,” Bruce says. “I have a few friends who are deans. I could make the necessary introductions to ensure you a place at one of their institutions.“ Jason’s arms are crossed high over his chest, and his expression is set like he’s deep in thought. “I don’t want to end up stuck somewhere where someone else is the boss of me.” “How about you at least come with us to check a couple of these places out,” Bruce suggests. “Just see how you feel about them. No commitment.” Jason’s nose scrunches up. “Where exactly are these places?” He asks. “It varies,” Bruce says. “All within the city.” They watch the boy chew on the inside of his lip for a moment. “Just to see,” he says eventually. Bruce nods. “I’m not getting into a car with you,” Jason adds. “We can take the bus,” Clark offers. Jason raises an eyebrow at that, and his mouth quirks almost into a smile. “Batman and Superman are gonna ride on Gotham’s shitty public transit?” “Why not?” Clark asks. “… Okay,” Jason says, still plainly unconvinced. “Let’s meet back here,” Bruce suggests. “Tomorrow?” Jason takes a minute, but eventually starts to nod. “Sure,” he says. “Why not.” They part ways after Clark disposes of his empty bag. The heroes return to their car.

While they’re driving back Clark says, “I know that look.” Bruce pauses to take stock of his own expression, and makes sure to neutralize anything on his face that might be out of the ordinary. Clark continues, unbothered by the lack of response. “It’s your ‘I’m already deeply emotionally invested in this kid’ look.” Bruce hums noncommittally. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight,” Clark adds. Bruce doesn’t either, but that’s par for the course at this point.

Part Two

#batman #superbat #superman #clark kent #bruce wayne #jason todd #dc comics #my writing #batfam #batfamily #dc #haven't shared any of my writing anywhere in a while but I'm desperately craving validation so here we are

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awhst-alt · 3 years

Text

I HAD THE BEST BYLER DREAM LAST NIGHT AND I REALLY WANNA SHARE IT WITH YOU ALL

it's so long (literally 2k words) so im gonna put it under the cut haha <3

so basically this would take place after mike and will start dating or something, idk exactly the time frame (i picture them being like 18 or something and this is the summer before college) and will goes to this summer arts program for like 2/3 months (i dunno how long american summer is but something like that) and its all the way far from home so there is dorms and stuff and he's "not in hawkins anymore" (no pun intended)

mike and will decide after will finishes his school they'd go to college together (cuz they're gonna be comic book artists together bc thats boyfriend shit) so throughout these months he's practically just waiting for will (<333333)

so one specific scene i remember from my dream involved will and mike getting off the bus to the school and then they hug and then mike grabs wills hand and brings him behind the bus and then he gives will a biggg kiss bc he won't be able to kiss him for 3 months. then they say they love each other and will gives him another quick kiss and is like "two kisses". they agree they'd call each other every day.

so will goes inside and mike goes back on the bus and goes home.

and basically the whole day is a whirl, until the end of it, in which mike is sitting in the kitchen near the phone waiting for like 3 hours for will to call, and will doesn't end up calling.

AND THEN IT GETS SPICYYYYY

so meanwhile at the arts program will asks like the front desk or something if he can call mike and they say phone is offlimits and they don't let him call mike

so then will goes to sleep and he's paranoid that he thinks mike is gonna hate him or something like that

mk than the next day in class there is this girl (they didn't reveal her name in the dream, ill call her stella) so stella is basically looking at will the entire class but will doesn't know it

so when they exit the class stella's like "hi" and will says "hi"

then stella says "i like your painting."

will is like rlly weirded out so he goes "thanks?"

"i um- hope this doesn't sound weird but i have no friends, do you want to be mine?"

"sure"

and then end of scene (this does not sound like a normal conversation but it's my dream so it doesn't have to make sense"

so BACK AT HAWKINS mike is still sleeping even tho it's like 3 pm because yk depressed boyfriend shit but then the PHONE RINGS and mike gets out of bed frantically and goes to the phone and he picks it up and is like "will?" and then it answers "it's el, idiot"

i feel like this is important for context but el speaks english very well now and hoppers back and she lives with hopper and not the byers anymore. ANYWAYS

el says "how's will?"

mike says "idk he didn't call"

"he didn't?"

"no, he didn't"

"okay. well maybe he will call later"

"yeah mb"

"wanna come over"

"ok"

so mike hangs up and gets changed and goes to el's house bc they r a couple o' besties and when he gets there it's like a therapy sessions bc mike usally talks to will every single day and he can't for like 3 months (unless will calls, but he's not going to) so he accepts he's gonna be depressed for 3 months and he's just talking to el about how he's gonna miss him so much and no be able to see his face and that shit

so el's like "well do u wanna do something to take ur mind off of him"

and mike's like "no im not gonna replace will" (I SCREAMED IN MY DREAM SRSLY)

but than el says "okay. guess im gonna go to the mall by myself" (ig starcourt is rebuilt by now)

and than mike bolts up and is like "fine"

"we can by something for will"

"okay yay"

so then they go to starcourt yasss!!

anyways back at the art school will is having lunch and stella is with he friends (even tho she said she doesn't have any friends) and one of her friends is like "omg did you see _____ he's so hot"

and another friend says "YESS! but ____ is cuter"

"what abt u stella? who do u have ur eyes on"

she says "byers" BUT NOOOOOOO WILL IS MIKES MAN

and they say "ew that kid who came back to life"

she says "yea. but he's cute, and shy, and once i wrap them around my finger i can get them to do anything"

so then she goes to sit down next to will at lunch

"hi will"

"hi"

"hru"

"im good"

"okay. good." and she gets upset because will goes ask how she is but she keeps her urging rage inside. and than they have this weird conversation and will is uncomfortable the whole time bc shes all like flirting with him and will is seeing someone obvi

but then she puts a hand on will's shoulder and he's shaking and then says something (idk what it is it wasn't explaining in my dream) then will stands up and runs to the bathroom. so he's just sitting in the stalls crying.

okay back at starcourt this part wasn't shown in my dream but im just gonna make up that mike and el go looking around starcourt for something for will (sort of like the mike/lucas/will montage where they were looking for stuff for el) and then i guess they find something for will and i don't have the slightest idea what they could have got for him BUT THEY GOT HIM SOMETHING GOOD

so mike's all happy but they'res still that depression inside of him lol

so fast forward a week, it really isn't explained but ill just make up that will still hasn't called mike, and he's super sad and all sleeping in but decides to look through his good ol binder full of will's drawings and in the arts school will and stella have a few more interactions im sure which are still very uncomfortable

okay so it's lunch again in the cafeteria and somehow will and stella are talking again but somehow it ends in stella kissing will and will like pulls away immediatley and is like "what is wrong with you!?"

and she says "what?"

"i'm seeing someone!"

"oh i uh- i didn't know."

the whole cafeteria is staring at them

so will's freaking out almost on the verge of a panic attack "idk what to do, he's gonna hate me and-"

"he?"

will has the look on his face like shit shit shit oh fuck no

"you're gay?"

"i-"

and will runs off once again. and everyone in the whole cafeteria knows that he's day and ofc with everybody being homophobic will knows it's not good at all bc everyone's gonna bully him

so then the next day he goes to class and the teacher is like "does anyone care to tell me where ___ is?" (it would be like a math question like 'where x is' but in art idkkk) and then the teacher calls on "will? can you tell me where ___ is?" and they'res a pause and then the teacher says "or perhaps you'd want to find your boyfriend instead?" (giving me anne with an e vibes prolly cuz i did a rewatch last weekend but i won't explain more in case some people haven't watched it but) anyways will stands up from his seat, everyone is looking at him, and he's shaking and so concerned but then he goes "fuck. you" badass will yeaaaa thats my boy

so then he runs out of the classroom and out of the school in a really cool montage way but then he realizes he's like 2 hours away from home but he runs and runs and he goes to a random bustop (it's not even garanteed if it takes him to hawkins but whatever) he gets on and tries to go back to hawkins.

and soon enough, he gets there, and immediatley goes to the wheelers because he needs to see mike and apologize for everything. so he's at the wheelers, and rings the doorbell, realizing he's still in his uniform lol but karen answers and mike is upstairs in his room sulking (i picture it would be 8 pm by now) so will asks for mike and karen calls mike. mike groans obviously because he doesn't know it's his boy, but he comes down, karen gets out of the way and as soon as he sees will they have a really big hug and it's super sweet and my heart UFHEIOSKA

mike says his usual "are you okay?" and mike is still confused as shit but will says "i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry" and mike says "you don't have to be sorry for anyrhing" but will says "ill explain"

so then they go to will's room, side-by-side on his bed and will starts explaining everything

(this is mostly improvised by me but it's still pretty similar to the dream)

"i hated it."

"the school?"

"yeah. there was no you, (mike blushes lmao), everything was terrible, i felt so lonely, they didn't let me call you-"

"what?"

"they said the phone was off limits. i wanted to talk to you so bad and i thought you'd hate me"

"i could never hate you, will, even if i tried." will smiles

"and then there was this girl, and she hit on me and i didn't know what to do bc i'd be the face of the school if i told her i was dating you and was gay and today she kissed me"

"WHAT"

"im sorry im sorry i didn't kiss back and i was so scared bc i never was in a relationship before and i was so scared it was considered cheating-"

and mike LAUGHSS

"what? mike? what's wrong?"

"if you don't do anything back, it's not considerd 'cheating'"

"oh. good. are you mad at me?"

"what? no! no never!" so mike opens his arms and says "come here" so will and mike hug or something like that and then mike says "do you need me to beat her up?"

and will says "you can't even beat eggs. besides, your noodle arms wouldn't be able to do harm to even a fly"

so mike laughs and says "i'm glad your home"

so will blurts "i cursed out a teacher"

"you? cursing?"

"yes."

"might have to start calling you a bad boy now"

will just smiles and says "i love you"

and mike says "i love you too"

AND THEN END AND IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF BC I LOVE THIS DREAM LIKE I CAN'T BELIEVE MY BRAIN THOUGHT OF THIS BUT IM OBSESSED

ALSO ONCE I FINISH WYBMFFAE ILL PROBABLY WRITE THIS INTO A FULL BLOWN FIC BUT AHIHFUSAH

edit: i have no idea what mike did with the present him and el bought for will but i guess they ended up giving it to him lol

#byler

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imaginesforthosewhoseekthem · 3 years

Text

Just a quick update

Probably should have put a trigger warning at the last post, but Mentions of pedophilia and r@pe. Reader digression is advised.

Thank you so much for everyone tho reblogged and liked the last post. I really don’t have time for the people being complete idiots when it comes to fandoms. I don’t generally let these kind of things bother me usually, but something about a character from a thing I really like being accused of a thing as serious as pedophilia, I just kinda snapped.

I’ve heard other things have been going on like people white-washing Mammon, Simeon and Diavolo. People sexualizing Luke...a LITERAL child. Calling Lucifer a rapist. Giving the voice actors shit for reasons I have no idea why. Shipping the brothers together which...look, I was expecting to happen eventually cus these kinda of people can't fuckin chill.

There is probably other stuff I’ve been missing. I didn't even hear that shit on here, by the way. I heard it on Tik Tok. Most of the things they’re doing are Just. Plain. Stupid. I feel like making posts on WHY what they’re doing is stupid and I feel like I shouldn't even have to explain. But you know, some people just don’t use or don't TRY to use their common sense that maybe...what they’re doing will cause them shit from other people. you posted shit, MOSTLY PROBLEMATIC SHIT, on the internet and are surprised to get hate for it...How...did you survive old enough to USE a computer with how stupid everything is. I dunno if I will make a post about why Lucifer is not a rapist, but it’s a pretty big phobia of mine, so it might take a bit to write. Also due to like 2 pieces of evidence as to why I could think people would say that about him, being the vampire event and the end of chapter 20 (If anyone else has reason to think that, do let me know. I’m only on lesson 26, but I will play through the game again and look at spoilers to get evidence. I don’t care about spoilers in this fandom.)

Fortunately, I believe the GOOD people of this fandom outweigh the dipshits. Because I don’t wanna make myself angry, I will make some bullet tips as to what we can do as a community and a fanbase to not let the toxicity spread.

If you are going to call a character a title THAT serious. USE. YOUR. BRAIN. There are fairly young people that play this game and they would never be allowed make a game like this if such titles were true. So maybe TRY to get some more information before you make accusations. If you’re not bothered, either face the music of looking stupid or say nothing. They’re FICTIONAL characters. Use that energy to get ACTUAL pedophiles and rapists arrested.

You can draw Luke as an adult FOR SPECULATION. That’s fine. If you;re just, in your own way, expression what Luke would look like at Simeon’s age, that’s fine. You just have an idea of what that would look like. But if you’re doing it to sexualize a minor...that is being WAY more pedo than anything people accused Levi of doing. Luke is canonically 10 in human years and is a canonical child among the other angels. I don’t care if he’s thousands of years older than the human. If the devs SAY he’s a child, regardless on if the years are different, then he’s a child and you treat him like a fucking child. If picturing sexual things about them is how you treat a child, that is pedophilia. You are disgusting and should be disgusted with yourself. I don’t care if he’s a fictional child, it’s still gross to do that to a child. I BET you there are people that call Levi a pedo and then sexualize Luke at a “Legal” age. Stupidity really just evolves, doesn’t it?

The case of shipping the brothers together...Look, maybe I’ll make a separate post on this too, but the explanation is SO. PAINFULLY, OBVIOUS. That I really don’t wanna waste my breathe on common sense. I know the brothers are not directly related by blood. Doesn’t matter. It can apply with adoptive or step sibling logic. If someone has grow up with you or spent their lives with you as a sibling figure in your life, shipping them in still incest. Family doesn’t end in blood.The brothers all still share one father. They are siblings. I know some of the cards MIGHT seem sexual or something...but that is what fan service is. I think people shipping the siblings. I think they’ve stopped making those types of cards a while ago for this reason...but yeah. No...You’d feel weird if someone shipped you and your sibling or a friend close enough to BE your sibling. So don’t do it here.

STOP. WHITE WASHING. CHARACTERS OF COLOR! You don’t white wash actual people of color so why do this at all? “I wanna see what he would look like as a different race!” WHY?! Why in the wing, fluttering fuck does race even matter?! Can’t you just enjoy how they already look and look past that? In my mind, only one race exists...the HUMAN race....I dunno how this holds up with a game about demons, but still. If you are so insistent on making characters of color a different race, all that means is that you’re being racist. If you insist you’re not, you will have no problem cutting out the white washing and accepting how they look already. BLACK LIVES STILL MATTER!

In the case of the voice actors. If you see people harassing the voice actors on any form of media, the simplest solution is to give the voice actors your love and appreciation and reporting them to the app to get their comment or account removed. Simple. It’s online safety 101. If you’re worried about them getting hate in their DM’s, there’s not much we can do about it. It’s private messaging between the commenter and the voice actor. The voice actors are grown men with common sense and they will appreciate your love and support because it means you’re trying to help them however you can. They can block those people themselves if they are DM’d. Don’t feel terrible that you can;t do more. You can only do so much and the VA’s appreciate your love and support for the game.

Finally...don’t spread hate. That’s what these kinds of people WANT you to do. Don’t get angry. Don’t start text wars. It will just make people think this fandom is more toxic than before. I know you’re just trying to set the record straight and you can do that in a more polite way, but don’t waste your breath on people if they don’t want to listen. You can tell them politely because they MIGHT just be people that are misinformed, but if they push the point forward without listening and they still won’t pay attention, their loss. you were trying to stop them looking like a jackass. They had their chance. If they’re causing further harm, just report them. It’s as simple as that. These kinds of people are not worth getting angry at. Don’t stress yourself out over people being stupid and try to enjoy the fandom in your own way, alright?

Sorry for two serious posts in a row. I’ve had complex feelings since my last post over my recent loss and ranting like this did help a lot. I’m also playing Mystic Messenger on Jumin’s Route and Day 11 will be tomorrow, so I should be getting to the asks soon enough. I know I say that all the time, but I actually wanna get back into writing because I’m super passionate about it. It just...sucks when being depressed makes it tiring to do the thing you love the most. Seeing everyone enjoy my writing really makes my day and I want to try motivate myself to not take as long in between. I’ve never let other people being weird or toxic destroy how I feel about the things I love because life is short and all that. THESE recent things I’ve heard about the Obey Me fandom don’t even get under my skin, but it’s a fandom I’m really passionate about and that the Tik Tok community want to get across to others. So, I contributed the only way I knew how.

Thank you for listening and have a good one ❤

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon

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winter-soldier-vibes · 4 years

Text

Never free of myself

Never free of my mind

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 3840

Warnings: self harm, depression

Summary: Reader struggles with self harm and one day while training with Bucky, she gets found out.

A/N: I know I’m writing slower lately, but I’ve been doing a lot of preparation for college.

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

“Just stop,” you mumbled to yourself.

You hated crying. You hated how weak it made you feel. You liked being in control, and you could control your emotions for the most part, but sometimes it would just be too much. And when that happened, you were always angry. Your parents always told you not to cry when you got down, and you quickly learned to hide the tears until you were out of sight.

You had been battling depression for a while now, and you had gotten no support from your family. They hadn’t been at all empathetic, just told you to get over it and appreciate the life you have. You never really had a reason to feel so low, so you couldn’t really argue with them. You just masked the shame and pain inside so nobody else could see.

Years later, and you had it down.

You worked and lived with the Avengers now. You had been recruited for your ability to become invisible. When you first discovered your power as a young teen, you were freaked out and it made you feel even more alone than you already did. Soon after you realized it was a great way to escape a situation or avoid people all together.

You trained with them, Steve and Bucky helping you learn to fight so you could join them on missions. You were an extremely shy person at first, using mostly facial expressions and body language to communicate. But after a few weeks you began to relax around everyone, being more yourself than you had felt in a really long time.

You bonded well with Bucky in particular. The two of you liked to keep to yourself and didn’t really want anyone too close. You were both used to being alone, and you loved that someone finally seemed to understand you. The two of you became really good friends, him trusting you to talk openly about his past while you listened. But you had never told him about yours. You didn’t trust anyone with that information.

You let nobody in on your secrets. You pushed them down for when you were alone in your room at night, where no one could see or hear you. Back in your teen years, you would resort to hurting yourself as a means of coping since no one would listen to you. You didn’t know how else to handle it. And no one noticed that either, so you didn’t think it was much of a problem. You felt like you deserved it, and it helped to numb the pain for when it became too much to control.

It helped you take back the reins on your own brain.

You were currently in your room, sitting on the floor against your bed. The sun was long gone and the streets were busy with lights, the only thing illuminating your room at the moment. Besides that it was dark, but you could see enough to be able to do what you were about to.

You had a blade that was given to you for self defense in your right hand, left arm extended in front of you. You had had enough of your tears and you just wanted them to stop before they got so out of control that someone heard you. You brought the blade to your upper arm and sliced, breathing in sharply at the sting that came when the air met the cut.

You felt a little relief, but it wasn’t enough quite yet to help you feel as calm as you needed to. Angry at yourself, you brought the knife back to your arm to make a new mark just below it.

“Stop.”

Slice

“Fucking.”

Slice.

“Crying.”

Slice.

You said this through gritted teeth, gripping the blade tighten and pressing a little harder each time. You kept repeating your motions until you entered a silent peace, tears giving way to feeling numb and you could breath easily. Sighing, you put the blade down and looked at your arm. There were plenty of scars covering your body from years of this kind of release, some deep and some thin, some healing and some just memories, and some purple and raised and others white and faded. Your newest cuts were bleeding steadily, dripping from your elbow to the floor, and there was blood on your shirt as well.

You leaned your head back against the mattress and closed your eyes. You didn’t feel the need to take care of your cuts, you usually just let them clot and clean the dried blood after. You didn’t think you deserved to take care of them. You didn’t really care if they got infected. Things always worked out in the end anyways. So you waited in the blissful silence, the only noise being your breathing and heart rate which was pounding still from earlier.

You don’t know how much time passed, but eventually you stood and made your way to the bathroom. You decided that a shower would be the best and quickest way to take care of the dried blood. You turned on the water and threw your clothes into a head on the floor. You’d deal with the blood stains later. You stepped in and winced as the water hit the fresh cuts, slightly enjoying the secondary pain you were receiving.

You took your time in the shower, enjoying the warm water as it was washing over your sore body. You didn’t know why you were sore really, it just felt like your body was constantly aching. Eventually you turned the water off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around yourself and stepping back into your room and walking to your dresser to find something light to wear to bed.

You always wore long sleeves and pants when you were anywhere other than your room. You didn’t have a choice in the matter; no one knew about your little secret and you had no intention of letting it out. They’d never understand, know the voices in your head pulling you to the darkness. But, in your room alone, you were fine in a tank top and shorts. No one to hide from, no reason to hide.

You pulled on your clothes and laid down on your bed, careful to not lay on your left side. You didn’t want to have to wash the sheets again like you had a few times before. You stared at the wall for a few minutes, still numb. Eventually you were able to drift off to sleep, despite the negative thoughts still plaguing your mind

No one saw or knew about what you were going through. You would always say that you were just fine even though you weren’t. You were secretly dying inside. And not one person had a clue. Well, almost no one.

Bucky had noticed a few things about you. You were naturally a reserved person, but you seemed to have built these walls up around you. He was only able to recognize it because he had done the same when he had joined the team, scared to hurt someone or be judged. He just wanted to lay low. You had always listened to him talking about his past and everything that he had gone through, yet you never did the same. But a few times it looked like you really wanted to say something, but your walls would go back up almost as if you had never let them down. He would notice how every now and then you would drop your smile, but once again it was back as if it was always there. It made him wonder, and he wanted to help but he didn’t know what to say.

You were so sick of holding everything down, pushing people away before they got too close. You didn’t want anyone to see what you saw. You were never free of yourself. Sometimes you did want to reach out, you did want help, but you weren’t sure what people would do if they knew the truth. And you weren’t ready to risk them running away from you. You were ashamed and afraid. But you sure as hell weren’t going to let anyone know that.

The morning came much too soon for your liking, and you groaned as you sat up. You knew that this was a morning you’d be training with Bucky, and you didn’t want him to come looking for you because you weren’t ready.

Reluctantly, you stood and put on a long sleeve athletic shirt and leggings and pulled your hair into a ponytail. Your arm was still sore, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. You made your way down to the gym in the tower to see Bucky standing, waiting for you. He smiled at you as a good morning and you walked over to him, doing a few warm ups before the two of you got started.

The two of you were sparing today, and the two of you were a sweating mess. You were taking a break, bringing a towel to your face and reaching for your water bottle. Bucky looked at you and asked you, “Why are you wearing long sleeves? You must be dying.”

You nearly choked on your water but played it off and shrugged your shoulders. “I dunno. Sometimes I run cold.”

He looked you up and down. He personally was overheating in his tank top and shorts, he couldn’t imagine how you were feeling right now. “Yeah, okay. Seriously, what’s up with it?”

You tried to look as innocent as you could and shrugged again. “Personal preference I guess.” He opened his mouth to ask another question, but before he could you stood and said “We should get back to it.”

After a moment he reluctantly said “Alright.” He was still unconvinced and curious. But he’d have to wait until later to learn more. The two of you moved back to the mat and began sparring again, him throwing most of the punches and you blocking. You were distracted though, and Bucky took advantage of that and grabbed your arm and turned around, flipping you over his shoulder.

You landed on your left side, crushing your arm in the process and couldn’t help the cry of pain that escaped your mouth. Immediately Bucky came over to you, and you grabbed your arm in pain as your cuts were reopened. Thank God your shirt was black and it wouldn’t show.

“Hey, what's wrong? Shit I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You tried to breathe through the pain and shook your head. “Not your fault. I just landed on my arm wrong, no big deal.”

Bucky bought it at first, but then he realized that you were rubbing your upper arm. If it had something to do with the fall it was much more likely to be your shoulder, elbow, or wrist. But you were rubbing your bicep.

Swallowing, he asked “Y/n what’s really wrong?”

You looked at him, panic growing inside you but you tried your best not to let it show. You let out a nervous laugh that you hoped he didn’t pick up on and asked “What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s going on with you? What happened to your arm?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know what you mean. I just landed on it wrong, it’s fine.”

“Y/n -”

“BUCK IT’S FINE.” you yelled, surprising both of you. You were never the type to get angry, and Bucky had never heard you so much as get frustrated before. You never allowed yourself to be around others. You began to panic more, and stood up, but what you didn’t realize was that blood had seeped through your shirt and onto your hand.

But Bucky did

His eyes widened and he stood up with you, grabbing your right wrist and inspecting your hand. Your eyes widened too and you tried to wrestle your hand from his grasp but it was no use. You wanted to make yourself invisible right now but that would do nothing about him having you in his grasp.

“Y/n, why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”

You sighed. “It’s nothing, really -”

“When did this even happen? You haven’t been on a mission in almost a week and you didn’t get injured. What happened?”

Tears were pricking your eyes and you said quietly, “Please just drop it.”

He shook his head and said “I can’t do that. Come on, let’s go down to medical.” He moved to walk towards the door but you stopped him yelling “NO. Please, no it’s fine I’m fine… It’s not a big deal Buck.”

Confused and concerned, he stepped closer to you and looked you in the eyes. You shifted nervously and looked away. “Y/n look at me.” When you met his gaze again he could see the tears building in your eyes. Slowly, he asked “What happened?”

You shook your head, feeling trapped. You didn’t want him to know, but you didn’t know what to say. “Buck, I… I can’t…” you said looking away again. Swallowing, Bucky said “Let’s go back to your room, where it’s more private.”

You, knowing it was worthless to protest, nodded your head and started walking to the door. He had finally let go of your hand and you crossed your arms, hiding your hands in case anyone else was around the compound.

You and Buck made it back to your room and Bucky closed the door behind him, leaning up against it. You sat on your bed, arms still crossed and eyes downcast, not wanting to look him in the eyes.

Gently, Bucky asked “Please tell me what’s going on y/n.”

You shook your head, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. It won’t make any sense.”

He crossed his arms and said “Try me.”

“Why do you even care? No one else does.”

A bit taken aback, Bucky furrowed his eyebrows together. “What do you mean no one cares? Everyone Here loves you and cares about you. And I’m your friend, y/n. You listen to me whenever I need someone, I just want to do the same for you.”

You covered your face with your hands, resting your elbows on your knees. Tears began trailing down your face. “I don’t even know where to start,” you blurted out. You didn’t want to hold it down anymore, and even if you did, you didn’t think Bucky was going to let you. Sitting back up, you clasped your hands together, staring at the wall. You shook your head. “I’m a fucking train wreck. Always have been. No one cared so I learned to hide it away, I didn’t tell anyone. Something bout attention.” you let out a bitter laugh. “I learned how to deal with it on my own so I never tried to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to bother you guys.”

Bucky remained silent, listening attentively. He was getting a horrible feeling in his stomach as he realized why you were bleeding. Clearing his throat, he hesitantly asked, “And how do you deal with it?”, knowing the answer already.

Taking a deep breath, you stood up. Bucky was confused as to what you were doing, but then you pulled your shirt over your head and dropped it on the ground. Bucky couldn’t help the widening of his eyes or the sharp intake of breath at what he saw. Your entire torso and both arms were almost completely covered with scars. Old and new, deep and shallow. But the ones that concerned him the most were the ones from last night.

They were deep, and probably needed stitches. But it was too late for that. He stepped closer to you, trying to get a closer look. He was speechless, and the color was draining from his face as he looked closer. “Y/n…”

“I’m sorry.” you choked out, sobs beginning to overtake your body. “Fuck…” you muttered, trying to turn away to hide. You suddenly felt like the room was much too small, and you did not want to appear weaker than you already did right now.

Bucky pulled you into him, despite your resistance. You tensed up and tried to push away, but Bucky kept a tight hold on you though, and eventually you gave in, melting into his hold and crying harder. It was no use trying to stop it. You were overwhelmed, you felt out of control, and you wanted nothing more than to run away and get some control back.

You kept sputtering apologies but Bucky kept shushing you, not having any of it. In his eyes you had nothing to be sorry for, he was worried, but he had no idea it would be this bad. He wanted to help you but he felt like he was in way over his head. All he knew was that right now you needed someone to lean on.

You were trying to get a handle on your emotions, but the more you tried it seemed to just get worse. Your breathing was getting shallower and your heart rate was getting faster. You felt trapped and you just wanted him to leave so you could take care of it.

Bucky had picked up on this and held you a little tighter, as tightly as he could without hurting you. “Breath doll. I got you, you’re safe.” He deepened his own breathing and rubbed your back, trying to get you to match his. “Bucky please, just...fuck I… I just need to…” you brought one of your hands to your sides, digging your nails into your skin trying to get some relief.

He hushed you again, pulling away your hand despite your whimpering. “I know you feel like you do, but you don’t need it. Let me help you y/n. Just try to breathe with me.”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling helpless in the situation. You needed to feel better but the only way you knew how was through hurting yourself. Which Bucky wasn’t making an option. You closed your eyes and balled your hands into fists against his chest, trying to focus on your inhaling and exhaling. You tried to slow it down, dragging out each breath like Bucky was. It took a long time, but eventually your panic fell and only your tears remained.

Now that you felt a little more in control, shame and embarrassment at what had just happened began to overtake you. How could you be so pathetic as to crack like this? You suddenly felt extremely exposed and vulnerable, and you wanted to hide away. Go back to the way it was. You tried to wrestle yourself out of his tight hold, but it was no use.

Bucky still held you tightly, afraid you would start again if he let go. “I’m sorry y/n. That I didn’t notice, tht I didn’t say anything when I did, and that no one else did. Those people in your past were wrong. You deserve so much more than this. You’re not a mistake y/n. I may not fully understand y/n, but I want to.”

You shook your head. “I shouldn’t have pulled you into this. You don’t deserve this on top of everything you went through. I - there’s no escaping this, and I’ve accepted that.” You looked back up to meet his eyes. “You don’t deserve to watch me unravel. Just… try to forget this.”

Bucky’s heart broke a little bit more for you. That you didn’t want help because you didn’t want to hurt anyone. That you truly believed that you were a burden. The hopelessness and the casualty of how you said that there was no escaping this...it scared him. Still, he tried not to show this and shook his head. Pulling You back into his arms.

“You know I can’t do that y/n, even if I wanted to. You don;t have to do this alone. You don’t have to hide from me, you can’t taint me. You are not and never could be a burden to me or anyone on this team. I know this helps and you feel like it’s the only thing that will, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” He felt tears pricking his eyes. “I can’t stand the idea of you hurting yourself. You’ve been hurting for long enough. Let me help you, please.”

You sighed, closing your eyes and shaking your head slightly. “I want to, I want to so bad,” you whispered. “How can you help me?”

Bucky tried to piece together a few ideas that would help you while not invading your privacy either. “Well, I’m always here to talk to. You know I’m up at all hours of the day y/n. I’m just a few doors down. I would like to take what you’re using but I understand if it’s too soon for that. Just please, tell me before you do this. And if you can’t, just...find me after.”

You pondered for a few moments before you asked, “Are you going to tell anyone?”

Bukcy sighed a little. “I won’t tell anyone you don’t want me to. But…” he started, speaking gently so as not to freak you out with his request, “I think we need to tell Bruce.”

You tensed and shook your head, and Bucky continued “Y/n some of these are really bad. You should have gotten stitches. They could get infected and make things a whole lot worse than they are now.” You had started crying again, knowing he was right but not wanting to admit it.

After a few moments of silence, Bucky asked “Do you trust me?”

You nodded your head slowly.

Bucky let out a small breath of relief. “Can I bring you down to medical?”

You weighed your options a little, coming to the conclusion that maybe this was best. “Will you stay with me?”

“Whatever you need y/n”

You took a moment before nodding again. Bucky smiled a little before saying “We all care about you y/n. Always will.”

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“Anytime,” he said, giving you a small squeeze before releasing his grip on you. You immediately grabbed your shirt and pulled it back on, crossing your arms over your chest as you met his gaze again. He gave you a soft smile which you returned shyly. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because I’m your friend. And you would do the same for me.” he replied.

You looked down and nodded a little. After a few moments Bucky asked “You ready to go?”

You bit your lip nervously. “Yeah. yeah I think so.”

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nautilusopus · 3 years

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tbh the 2001 version of ocean's eleven is better than the rat pack version (and ocean's 8 too from what i've heard don't @ me) but the dumb subplot with tess is easily the weakest part of it

they could've cut the tess thing and lost absolutely nothing and the movie would've functioned the same, except for maybe the metaphor about the lose half the money or try to keep all of it and lose all of it thing. which wasn't really a terribly strong or compelling theme anyway so

but like julia roberts is acting so goddamn hard and there's just nothing for her to actually do. like never mind the fact that danny's plan to win her back is fucking stupid because that is just not how people act??? like no one in their right mind is gonna go "oh well my current husband is a piece of shit so i guess i'll go back to my ex, who went out of my way to show me what a piece of shit he was while robbing him (which is the reason i broke up with him to begin with because it kind of ruined my life) because our relationship was just that loving prior to the being arrested thing and the movie keeps vaguely alluding to that, even though we never actually see that at any point at all."

like, even in a wish-fulfillment movie, the idea that she'd take him back because of all this stuff is batshit moon logic at best. except then she does. the problem is, a movie like ocean's eleven is already purely style over substance in the biggest way possible, and i mean this as a positive. it is extremely stylish and it is there to BE stylish. it has nothing deep to say to you, but it wasn't trying to do that anyway. it's a popcorn movie, and it is here to show you some people stealing things in a really fucking cool way. the director even outright admits this in an interview, claiming he set out to make "just a pure piece of entertainment" and i think he fucking nailed it, and i especially love shit that knows what it wants to do at the outset and then does it without fucking around and with a high degree of competence. this movie knew what it wanted to do and then set out to be the best version of itself it could possibly be and absolutely knocked all the goals it set out of the park

this is especially important given that it's still not a brainless movie despite being a turn-your-brain-off movie; it's a heist movie. there are a lot of moving parts, and that shit is very hard to do well without it feeling dumb and contrived (just look at ocean's 12). knowing how much to show the audience so they can follow what's going on/the reveal is hard! knowing what to hide so there can still be an air of uncertainty around the plan is hard! maintaining suspension of disbelief for a movie that specifically is calling attention to logical inconsistencies, meaning it has to keep its narrative even more tightly wound than normal, is hard! all these things are difficult, and ocean's eleven does all these things really, really goddamn well. it is genuinely a brilliant piece of filmmaking. (maybe i will get into how at a later date but for now i want to encourage you to watch it yourself by bitching about it shhhh don't question me. all i'll say is that brad pitt was actually fucking spot-on casting.)

tess is a fucking lamp, though, and her existence only serves to detract from the experience. i am only this mad about her because the rest of the movie is so good otherwise (hell, even her individual one-on-one scenes with danny, all fucking two of them, are well-acted and well-written), so it REALLY sticks out how awkward it is as a whole package.

and i know why they put the damn thing in, they needed an emotional core of some sort to the movie s it wasn't completely fucking shallow, because even in a popcorn flick there has to be something for the audience to care about. but like..................................... the heist crew is right there

like a huge chunk of the dialogue in ocean's eleven (mostly the banter, which is again one of the strongest parts of the movie) is ad-libbed. the cast all have excellent chemistry with one another and play off each other extremely naturally, and all the time in behind the scenes footage all anyone talks about is how genuinely well everyone got along, to the point where they'd just hang out on set with each other instead of going back to their trailers between shoots. and you're obviously invested in the heist, which in turn helps you get invested in the crew, and the actors work well together. and the sharp banter is the other reason besides the heist that you're watching the movie anyway and just

why not make THAT the emotional core of the movie why not build on that? it's right fucking there

why does nobody see these things

did they really think they needed a romance to sell this thing THAT BAD when the core cast already had such great chemistry. not to mention like a solid third of the movie is just danny and rusty exchanging Knowing Looks between one another and i absolutely buy them as friends that go way back a lot more easily than i buy danny and tess as a couple that were truly happy with each other a long time ago, in part due to them actually fucking getting screentime together. c'mon man

that isn't to say I think a Danny/Rusty romance subplot would improve the movie or is anything i particularly want to see, but the point is that the main cast already has a lot of chemistry together that is in turn written INTO the script already and they could've just worked with that lkdflhsdkslhhgssg.

or like, if you must have tess, maybe you could actually incorporate her into the heist properly beyond Existing as a weird mafia cuck subplot? this is actually something i think ocean's twelve did do right (just a shame about the heist in question but whatever, credit where it's due). as mentioned, roberts's perfornance isn't bad either and she also plays off clooney well in the brief fucking moments they're onscreen together.

i dunno. i feel like there were better options than what we did get. the tess subplot is a black spot on an otherwise really fucking good experience.

......................................................and YES OKAY FINE obviously i'm fucking biased for wanting more found family crime squad nonsense but that doesn't meant i'm wrong either.

#squid grumbles #ocean's eleven #also give yen more lines pls :c #GIVE ME MY CRIME WIFE

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platypanthewriter · 3 years

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Growth

Harringrove April prompt 27: Growth! Max really wants Steve to know Billy's changed. Steve has doubts...at first, until he and Billy get a chance to talk. Also, yay, touchstarved AU.

“Sooooo Billy’s been getting better, you say,” Dustin said loudly, as he climbed into the passenger seat, and Max climbed in behind Steve.

She groaned. “Yes!” she said, like Dustin was deaf, leaning around to yell in Steve’s ear. “He’s much better.”

“Why are you yelling,” Steve muttered, leaning to see through the back, so he could back out of the parking space.

“Since he saved El,” Dustin practically shouted at Steve, and he eased off the gas to stare over. “He saved her,” Dustin said again, like this was news. “Billy did,” he added, like Steve was maybe brain-damaged, or Max had forgotten about her brother landing in the hospital.

“I know,” Steve told him, raising his eyebrows. “I remember.”

“He saved El,” Max said, and Steve stared at her in the rearview mirror, until a thought occurred to him, and his eyes narrowed.

“...are you two high,” he asked, sniffing the air, and Max punched him in the shoulder.

“No!” she shouted, kicking his seat.

“Hrm,” he said, pulling out of the parking lot, but keeping a wary eye on both of them, and then...Steve started to put the clues together. “Holy shit, wait, are you from the future? Trying to figure out the, y’know, the timeline. Oh my god, can you go through time in the Upside-Down?!”

“Shut up, Steve,” Max sighed heavily, her face smushed into the back of his seat.

“I mean, it’d be worth a try,” Dustin said, brightening, and Steve sighed with Max, disappointed.

“We were talking about my brother,” she said, flatly, like Steve had tired her out.

“Why?!” Steve asked bluntly, turning on the road towards the Wheeler’s. “Because he hasn’t given anybody a concussion recently?”

“...three months since the last head injury incident,” Dustin whispered, snickering, and Max smacked his shoulder, growling like her brother.

“He’s better,” she hissed, thumping back against her seat, and crossing her arms.

“Uh, yeah, yeah he is,” Dustin said, grimacing, and Steve stared over at him, and into the rearview at Max, and came very close to running a red light.

“What is going on with you two,” he breathed, staring between them, and starting to wonder about weirder theories, like doppelgangers, or possession. “Shit, can the Mindflayer get two people now?”

“...I’m telling him it’s hopeless,” Max said, looking at Dustin, and he grimaced, and sighed.

Steve couldn’t stop wondering what the hell that was about, and the next time he had a few hours, he drove down to the pool, and watched Billy’s water aerobics class—which he knew he was in, because now that he thought about it, Max talked about Billy a lot. He did look better, Steve thought grudgingly, for a given of ‘last time I saw this person, he had a hole in him the size of a basketball hoop.’

It was hard to imagine him having changed enough to warrant Max’s unending praises, and Steve clenched his fists, remembering Billy’s fists hitting his face, and the way Max had flinched away from her brother’s hands.

He wandered back into the locker rooms, biting his lips.

Since the water aerobics class was mostly grandmas, Billy wandered back in alone, and shuffled into the shower to lean against the post in the center. His legs shook, a little, and Steve felt kinda shitty all of a sudden for just standing there watching. The bench was hard as hell anyway—and what was he even gonna say, he asked himself, groaning.

He stood up, brushing his pants off automatically, and then he heard Billy’s voice say “...Steve Harrington?”

“...no?” Steve tried, turning around with a grimace, and Billy snorted a laugh, shampooing his hair.

“The hell are you doing in here? Dressed?”

“Hrm,” said Steve, wondering about that himself. Billy did look so much better, Steve could see Max’s fascinated relief. He could stand and take a shower, the water running over his muscles, even if he needed to lean one hand on the showerhead post while he washed his hair. His scars were thick and ropey, but healed—and as Steve thought it, he realized Billy was working his jaw, a little, glancing at Steve’s face.

With a sinking feeling of guilt, Steve grimaced, trying to imagine how he’d feel if he made it through something like that, and then people stared at him in the shower.

“My scars gonna give you nightmares, Harrington?” Billy asked, laughing a little breathlessly, and gripping the showerhead post.

“What?! No!” Steve said, making a face, realizing that was worse, feeling his face heat at the teasing tone of Billy’s voice, and deciding on a distraction. He dropped his eyes about a foot and a half. “Just pitying you, man, I never noticed your tiny-ass dick before.” He grinned, proud of himself, as Billy stared over.

“What,” he said flatly.

"I guess you're a grower," Steve said, eyeing Billy's dick. "I guess? Or is it just that size? Too bad, man," he finished the killing blow, only to have Billy start laughing so hard he staggered, and Steve ran in to grab his arm, steadying him down to the ground.

“Oh my god,” he wheezed. “What the fuck, Harrington. Brutal.”

“Sorry,” Steve said, grimacing, and starting to snicker along. “Sorry, I just—I wasn’t thinking anything shitty about your scars, I just...figured that was better?”

“Is it, though?” Billy cackled, leaning on one arm and panting, his eyes shut tightly against his dripping shampoo. “Is it really?”

Steve laughed harder, grimacing again as he watched Billy try to stay upright, the arm he was leaning on shaking. “Scoot to your left,” he told him, “—get back in the shower spray, I’ll help you with your hair. I’ll be right back.”

“...how long am I supposed to wait,” Billy muttered, wincing as he tried to scoot himself along the sandpapery anti-slip floor.

“Just a sec,” Steve said, backing out of the showers, with an eye on Billy Hargrove, in case he drowned.

The floor at the pool was familiarly pebbled and rough as Steve pulled off his shoes and socks. He yanked his shirt off for good measure, tossing it on the bench, and then walked back in. “Okay, I’m gonna spray you in the face,” he said, and Billy sputtered a “What,” as Steve stuck his hand under the showerhead, and directed it onto Billy’s hairline, to rinse the shampoo off his face.

“...oh shit, thanks,” he muttered, scrubbing at his face, and Steve held the water there while he rinsed and wiped his eyes.

“You want me to help you get back under the shower?” Steve asked, once Billy’d blinked and squinted around a little, and Billy shot him a glare.

“I think you better,” he huffed. “Come in here and insult my dick. Makes us ev—” he winced, and stopped, sighing. “...sorry about all the shit I did last fall. Showing up at the Byers, and...everything. Max said you were okay,” he said slowly, glancing up. He looked tired.

“Oh,” said Steve, startled. “Uh. Sorry I insulted your dick.”

Billy snorted a laugh, shaking his head, and Steve turned the shower off, stepping in to yank Billy up and help him stagger back under where he could finish washing his hair. The shampoo was starting to drip into his face again, and Steve crouched to wipe it off with his thumbs, feeling Billy laugh against his hands. He was bracing himself with both arms, and Steve was feeling doubtful.

“You got this, man?”

“Just need to sit for a while,” Billy muttered. “...long night. You can go—”

“I’m not leaving you lying on the floor,” Steve told him, indignant. “Come on, man, I’ll wash your hair.”

“What,” Billy said, but Steve ignored him, turning the water back on, and squirting more shampoo into his hand, because he’d seen Billy only get half his head while Steve made him laugh so hard he sat down.

The shower soaked into his slacks, and he grimaced, but there were scars all up Billy’s hunched shoulders, too, and he was trembling with the effort of staying upright, so Steve tried to focus on working the suds through his hair. Billy’s curls clung to his fingers, and Billy flinched, sometimes, when Steve lifted a hand away to wash a new part of his head, so Steve started narrating. “Gonna rinse around your ear,” he said, and Billy tilted his head obediently, clenching his hands against the floor.

“That’s good. Now around your face,” Steve said, like he was helping with Holly Wheeler’s bath, but bathing a person of any size seemed about the same, really—Billy was heavier to help in, but at least Steve didn’t have to keep distracting him with squeaky hedgehog toys. He tipped Billy’s chin up, shielding his eyes, and Billy sighed, shivering, his head heavy in Steve’s hands.

“...you need conditioner?” Steve asked, frowning around, and Billy swallowed—unhelpfully—but then Steve found the bottle, rolled against the shower post, and began working it through the length of Billy’s curls. Billy’s hands twitched and shook, and Steve wondered how the hell he was getting home, even if Steve got him out of the shower and dressed.

His breathing was going weird, gaspy and uneven, and Steve started to worry he was hurting him, somehow. He slowed down, a little, gentling his touches, and Billy pulled his knees up, hugging them to his chest.

“Shit,” he mumbled, panting. His skin was red even for in the shower, and finally, Steve got it.

“...shit, dude, you been lonely, huh,” he said, laughing.

“Shut the fuck up,” Billy laughed, groaning into his knees.

“Shutting up, just keeping on with my sexy, sexy shampoo job,” Steve told him, letting his fingers linger as he cupped water up the back of Billy’s head to rinse the conditioner out, and Billy made a strangled noise into his hands.

“Fuck you,” he moaned. “Why are you even here,” and Steve laughed, putting his hand over Billy’s eyes to tip his face into the spray again.

“Max said you’d...changed, I dunno,” Steve told him, feeling the odd sensation of someone else’s stubble under his hands as he held Billy’s chin, rinsing the sides of his head. “She kept saying it like I was supposed to care, you know. Thought I’d see what was going on.”

“...and?” Billy asked, softly, as Steve splashed some water on his hunched-up collarbones, trying to rinse the conditioner all the way off.

“Shit, I dunno,” Steve told him, laughing. “Talked to you for like ten minutes, and I don’t think you, y’know, uh, I don’t think you grew exactly the way she meant.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Billy groaned into his hands, curling up tighter, and Steve snickered.

“Guess it’s a little...frustrating, recovery from something like that,” he whispered, and Billy elbowed him, laughing.

“Go to hell!”

“That’s the Billy Hargrove I remember,” Steve said, handing him the soap. “Here, finish up whatever, I’m gonna find your locker and get your clothes out. You need a ride?”

Billy stared at him, head cocked away from the water. “...that’s it?” he whispered.

“What?” Steve asked, feeling like he was being pretty nice, all things considered. “You want something else?”

“...no,” Billy said, looking down at the soap.

Steve wandered off, trying not to listen as Billy took care of his little problem. Not that little, he thought, remembering his assessment of Billy’s dick, and snickering guiltily as he opened lockers, trying to Sherlock Holmes it based on water trails, but the whole floor was wet, and he didn’t see any wet handprints glinting helpfully in the lights.

By the time he wandered back, Billy had his legs sprawled, his cock properly limp and unobtrusive between them, and Steve turned the shower off and half-carried him to a bench. He sat down while Billy dried his hair and toes and struggled with socks, and then couldn’t watch anymore. He crouched down and put Billy’s shoes on, tying them for him, and helped him with his shirt. Billy was swaying a little by that point, his eyes drifting shut, and Steve thought maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to encourage him to jack off in the shower, even if he’d probably sleep like a log.

“C’mere, Billy,” he said, scooping him up, and Billy sighed against his ear.

“...sorry,” he mumbled. “S’ry ‘bout my dick.”

“Your dick is your problem, buddy,” Steve told him, hefting him up again as he walked. “And whoever you’re dating, I guess.”

“...fuck you,” Billy whispered. “Fuck you, ‘s…’s’okay.”

“Yeah, it’s an okay dick,” Steve reassured him, unable to believe he was having this conversation. A woman stared at them as he tried to unlock his car, and he beamed back at her, half-tempted to do something outrageous, like start barking dick measurements, but she harrumphed and wandered off.

“Still got my mouth,” Billy mumbled sleepily, as Steve loaded him into the car. “An’ my asshole. ‘F’you don’t like my dick.”

“Your dick’s fine,” Steve told him, sliding the seatbelt around him, and starting to blush as hard as Billy’d been, because what the fuck.

“S’a grower,” Billy said.

“Yeah, yeah, you grow, I get it,” Steve agreed. “Super impressed, man.”

That seemed to wake Billy up again, a little, and he watched Steve get in the car. “...is that what Max said? That’s why you’re being so nice. No,” he laughed, grimacing. “Max said you’ve always been nice. Shit.”

“...I haven’t,” Steve said, starting up the car. “I mean, I had to grow up some. Too.”

Billy nodded, slowly, biting his lips together.

It wouldn’t be so bad, Steve thought, to swing by and see Billy again. Have another dude around who knew what Hawkins was like, and who seemed...kind of cool, now, now that he wasn’t being such a prick. “I’m glad you’re okay, man,” Steve told him, honestly, and Billy’s smile was quick and bright.

“Yeah, back at you,” he said, sighing.

He slept for the rest of the ride.

Here are my other Harringrove April prompts!

#Harringrove #harringrove april #Billy's grown #Steve's grown #Billy's dick is growing too #Lots of growth #XD #Hurt/comfort a bit #My bathing fixation

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