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atlasofthestaars · 6 months

Text

heart to heart

summary:

“The touching of foreheads—this is an ancient greeting. that honors the heart and soul of another human.”

you and your lover have a tender moment.

includes: Liu Kang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Reptile, Scorpion (Kuai Liang), Sub Zero (Bi-Han), Smoke, Shang Tsung, Mileena, Kitana, Ashrah, Havik, and Cassie Cage

note: something different ig?? just wanted to do something indulgent and wanted to dabble in drabbles. (these ended up being longer bc. pressure.) I also wanted to take this time to practice writing some sweeter stuff for the love interests of New Era + Cassie bc my friend likes her. idk if people want more I can probs do other charas too.

LIU KANG

A content sigh left your lips as you pressed your forehead forward to meet Liu Kang’s. Your eyes fluttered closed. His hands, which now no longer had their wraps, gently cupped your cheeks. His hands were always warm, and they helped keep away the chill of the night. A thumb gently rubbed small circles, a habit of his that you always found oh so endearing. You couldn’t help but to melt into his hands.

This was perfect. There was nothing more you could long for in this world. Though, you knew if you wanted anything Liu Kang would be there to fulfill your wishes. Anything was worth the smile on your face.

In the day, Liu Kang was often busy with his duties. Being the protector of Earthrealm came with many responsibilities, and the both of you knew that. Oftentimes, you would go long stretches within the day without seeing a hint of your lover. It was simply something you had to accept being Liu Kang’s lover. However, that did not mean he neglected you. Not at all.

At the end of the day, when the sun gave way to the moon and let it shine upon the world, Liu Kang returned. Night time was always the time he set aside for just the both of you. It soon became your favorite time of day just because it meant he would be there, right at your side.

“You look so perfect.” Liu Kang whispered. His voice carried reverence within it, as if you were the god who had crafted the universe with utmost care and love. You opened your eyes, and for a moment, you were left breathless. No matter how much time passed, he always looked at you as if you were the pinnacle of perfection.

Any sort of response you had was stuck in your throat. You could never tire of staring into Liu Kang’s eyes. You often asked if he had given himself the ability to hypnotize others with his gaze. He told you every time that no, he did not. But if he didn’t, why were you so entranced by them every single time you dared to look at them?

You wished you could put into words how much you loved this man. From the way he looked with his silky long hair that you loved to play and run your hands through, to the way he was so kind and loving. You often wondered and asked how you were lucky to be the partner of such a god, to which he always told you that he was the lucky one.

“I am thankful you wait for me every night.” The god murmured, his voice so full of love and genuine thankfulness. He removed his forehead, and you mourned the loss of contact before he pressed a featherlight kiss to yours. Then, he returned his forehead back to yours, and everything was as it should be. “I wish I could spend every minute by your side, my love.”

You wished so too, but every night was just enough for you.

KUNG LAO

Your forehead bumped into Kung Lao’s a bit clumsily. There was far too much energy and excitement buzzing in both of your veins to prevent that little stumble. It didn’t matter either way to you, you were just happy to be in his arms. He was equally happy to hold you, and you could tell by the way his arms squeezed around you.

You always felt happiest in his arms, honestly. There was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be than right here.

“Did you see that!?” Kung Lao asked, his eyes wide as they searched your face. While Kung Lao always sought out approval and compliments, there was nothing better than the ones he received from you. It just made him feel like he was on top of the world. To his delight, he saw the way you nodded accompanied with a wide happy grin on your face. The grins he got from you were perhaps the best type of approval he could ever get from you.

A laugh left your lips as he squeezed his arms tighter around you in delight. Every embrace from him felt like it was full of the love he felt for you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. His nose nuzzled against yours, and more laughter spilt from your lips. You couldn’t help it, he knew just how to make you happy. Your face heat up from how nearly overwhelmed you were from his affection, the love nearly overflowing from your heart.

“You’re always so cute when you blush.” Kung Lao teased, a hand rising up to pinch at your cheek affectionately. His eyes glinted with mischief and glee, but most of all, love. He adored the way he could make you blush and how your heart would race. It meant that you felt exactly the same way whenever he would just look at you sometimes.

You leaned back, a wide grin on your face as you swatted away his hand in a playful manner. Rolling his eyes, he instead cupped your cheek. Before you could protest in any sort of way about his earlier comment, you were attacked with a flurry of kisses all over your face.

“Sorry, you’re too adorable. I couldn’t resist.” Kung Lao apologized, but you both knew he would pepper your face with his kisses again and again the next chance he got. His grin was the perfect mixture of smug and gleeful. And his dimples were the perfect icing on the cake. You raised a hand up to cup his cheek and traced his dimples with his thumb.

“A fan?” Kung Lao inquired, eyebrows raising up in a teasing manner. His ego seemed to only get bigger and bigger with every adoring look you gave him, but you didn’t care. A laugh left his lips again as he pressed his forehead back to yours. It was a little too much force again, but the both of you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were together and basking in each other’s mutual affection.

You wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the world.

RAIDEN

Your forehead pressed against Raiden’s gently as the two of you lay underneath a sea of stars. You two had decided to stargaze since it was such a pretty sight outside. The sky was clear and the moon was full, and yet there was nothing you wanted to look more at than the man beside you. How could you not?

Your eyes searched your lover’s face, admiring how the moonlight fell just perfectly on his face. How could a man look so amazing as the one in front of you? Perhaps you’d have to thank Liu Kang sometime for blessing you with the image of perfection. While being so in awe of the champion’s beauty, you nearly missed the comment he made.

“You look amazing.” He spoke, his voice filled with so much affection for you. He always wore his heart on his sleeve. It was a trait you adored so much, even if was sometimes a flaw of his. A soft smile appeared on his face, the very same one that made you fall a bit more in love with him every single time. You couldn’t help but grin just a bit wider at the sight.

You should be the one telling him that, in all honesty. The proper words to express your love for him were lost though. How could someone express such adoration and love? You thought there weren’t nearly enough words in all of the realms to tell him how much you truly admired him.

His hand moved carefully towards your face, as if moving too fast would break the peaceful atmosphere. He was always so thoughtful about such things, especially so when it had to do with you. Then finally, after far too long, it settled on your cheek where it should be.

His thumb moved slowly across your face before it landed on your lips. It rubbed across your bottom lip leisurely. His gaze drifted away from your lips as he returned his thumb to rest on your cheek once more. Now they settled on looking into yours, and you wondered to yourself just how lucky you were to have such a man by your side.

“You are more lovely of a sight than all of the stars combined.” Raiden said, his voice filled with such sincerity it made your heart skip a beat. Then again, he was sincere in all things he said. It didn’t make you swoon over him any less. “I’m so lucky.” He confessed, humble as ever. You sighed at his little comment, withdrawing from his forehead to press a soft kiss on the tip of his nose for a moment.

You watched with silent admiration as color rose to his cheeks, blossoming in a soft reddish pink. Then, it spread across his face like a watercolor painting. If only you could save this view forever. You grinned at the sight, your heart swelling with joy. You couldn’t help but kiss him again, overwhelmed by the love you felt for the man in front of you.

What a sight.

JOHNNY CAGE

Your forehead pressed against Johnny Cage’s, and it felt like you were in a movie. Maybe you’ve been watching too many of his movies lately, but you couldn’t help it. You loved supporting him and his passions. The pride he had on being on screen was nearly palpable every time you watched one of his films.

The feeling of being in a movie wasn’t helped with the way your lover was acting.

I mean…the way he was looking at you was pretty much the perfect shot for a movie. Your cheeks warmed up, and you were certain Johnny was bound to notice. Even if he wasn’t looking at your cheeks, his hands were sure to feel how the skin beneath them heated up. Your eyebrows rose up, looking at him a bit confused.

“What? Can’t I look at you?” Johnny inquired, sending you a smile. It wasn’t quite the practiced, perfect smile he sent his fans. No, it was the smile he always sent you. It was a little less perfect, but it was a little more real…a bit more genuine. Best of all, it was just for you. Your heart couldn’t help but flutter a little at the sight.

By the gods your lover was so pretty. And he sure knew it, but how could you blame him? Looks like that were meant to be shown off. Even still, you were thankful for the small private moments like these were you were allowed to see the parts of him no one else could. It just reminded you of how fortunate you were to be with this man.

Little did you know how much he adored you right back.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, but in a light, playful manner. No, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t look at you. It just…mystified you why he looked at you like that. Like you were the most valuable thing he had. It felt almost impossible, after he once owned Sento, which he always went on and on about how he spent three million dollars on that. And that wasn’t counting the other countless possessions he had when he was at the peak of his richness.

And yet, despite your reservations on how much you deserved to be looked at like that, the admiration in his eyes made you reconsider. Johnny was always good at convincing you, he just had a way with words. Or sometimes his charisma was enough, much like in this case. His thumb brushed your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks for being my number one fan.” He murmured, pulling back to press a soft kiss onto your forehead. He let out a small laugh, the one that made you feel like you were on top of the world. “I hope you know I’m also your number one fan too.” The actor reminded you, his eyebrows raising to punctuate his point.

You knew that you both were each other’s biggest supporters, and that type of loyalty was priceless.

KENSHI TAKAHASHI

You made sure to place your forehead against Kenshi’s softly, trying to be gentle. You smiled at him, even though he could not see it. This was one of the rare few times Kenshi did not have Sento around, letting himself be the most vulnerable. And those times were always with you. He trusted you with his life, so this step wasn’t too farfetched.

“I wish I could see you.” Kenshi murmured his voice mournful. His hands reached up to cup your face. He knew he could always see you with Sento. But he didn’t want that. He wanted to see you with his own eyes. The swordsman wanted to see you, and your radiant smile in full color. He was grateful for what he gained after his loss, but sometimes he longed for sight just for you.

He supposed he would have to make do with what he could do instead.

Guiding his hands, you settled them on your face and closed your eyes. It was in these rare few moments that you two had a tradition. You were used to this and almost anticipated this every time he set Sento aside and sat down with you alone. His thumbs slowly rubbed your cheeks, as if marking out his starting place. Then, he finally began to move his hands. It was slow and deliberate, taking time to memorize every detail of your skin. Every winkle, bump, and mark, he wanted to remember it all.

First his hands moved slightly up. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your ears, refreshing his memory of how they looked by touch alone. Then, it moved higher, noting your hairline with his thumbs. His fingers brushed across your forehead, his thumbs tracing around where your foreheads connected together.

As his fingers reached your closed eyes, they lingered there. No envy coursed through Kenshi’s veins. Instead, only gratefulness swelled throughout the swordsman. He was thankful that you did not also go through the pain of losing your eyes in such a painful way. Leaning forward, he kissed your eyelids with utmost care.

“I want to protect you.” Kenshi whispered, pulling back to reconnect your foreheads. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, knowing that he meant it from the bottom of his heart. His fingers continued to make their way down, tracing your nose before they stopped once again at your lips.

His fingers mapped out the curve of your lips, especially noting the way they curled up to form your fantastic smile. He took a deep breath in, admiring just how soft your lips were underneath his fingertips. By the gods, he could never get over how nice your lips feel. A smile appeared on his own lips as he felt your smile grow.

He always loved your smile. Whether it be seen through Sento or felt through his own hands it warmed his heart. He would do anything to keep it, and you, safe.

And he knew, having you there in his hands as he pressed a gentle kiss to your smile, you would do the same for him.

SYZOTH

Sleepily, you pressed your forehead against Syzoth’s own forehead. Blearily, you opened your eyes to look at the man who slept beside you. He still looked half asleep as well. You looked him over, admiring the sight of the sleepy Zatteran. It was a sight that only you had the privilege to see. A smile appeared on your face as you raised a hand up to cup his cheek, your thumb rubbed circles to slowly coax him awake.

Looking over the shoulder of your lover, you noted the sunlight streaming in from behind the parted curtains. It hit Syzoth just perfectly, making him look like he was glowing. For a moment, you wondered if your lover was an angel instead of a Zatteran. You certainly felt blessed enough to have him to believe it. Then, you heard the familiar reptilian grumbles emanate from his chest as his forehead rubbed gently against yours, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

Maybe he was both, you thought.

“Let’s just lie here for a bit more.” Syzoth mumbled, his voice laden with sleep. The arms around your waist were squeezing you tightly now, preventing any hope of climbing out of bed to start your day. It was as if you were a stuffed animal for him. You let out a small drowsy laugh, your fingers now pinching his cheek. As much as you adored sleepy mornings with your Zatteran lover, you knew that he had a very important job as the Empress’ emissary. Both of you had responsibilities to get to.

Syzoth simply huffed in response, not even responding with words to your attempt to wake him up. His hand reached up to grab yours. He pulled your hand off of his cheek and instead intertwined it with yours. The simple gesture made your heart melt. You could practically feel him basking in the warmth that you naturally radiated. You sighed as you opened your eyes a bit more, squeezing his hand in an attempt to pull him from dreamland.

“I promise I will get up soon.” Syzoth told you, his eyes now more open. It was almost as if he were awake the entire time, but he just was seeking an excuse to spend more time with you. Or maybe, that’s exactly what it was. You had a small idea of what the truth actually was.

You stared up into his stunning green eyes, the sight of them alone almost took your breath away. Combined with the gentle way he spoke, along with the way he looked at you, you easily believed him. Then again, you supposed you would believe anything he told you as long as he looked at you that way.

He could tell you that the sun was gone when it was high into the sky, or that the world was going to end within days and you’d believe him. How could you not when he looked at you that way? You sighed with fake reluctance as you relaxed in his embrace.

Okay, maybe you can sleep in a little longer.

KUAI LIANG

Your forehead settled against Kuai Liang and you enjoyed the warmth you felt from the contact. A smile rose to your lips. How lucky you were to be with a man who knew how to control fire. Equally warm hands reached up to cup your face in a gentle, affectionate way. A bit selfishly, you inched closer to him, seeking out his warmth. Your arms wrapped around him, trying your best to pull him as close as you could towards you. He seemed to notice, his hands pulling you just a tiny bit closer towards him as well.

Your heart fluttered at the gesture. Your lover always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even if you said nothing.

It was a cold, cold night. The chill of the night crept into your bones, and only the warmth of your lover seemed to abate it. You relaxed and closed your eyes, basking in the way he was naturally warm. It was always a comforting warmth, never the stifling kind that made you fidget. You always swore that you could fall asleep comfortably as long as Kuai Liang was there to warm you to lull you to bed.

Sleeping was something the both of you should be doing, and yet you were instead. You were basking in the comfort of being in each other’s arms.

With the mastery of a man who has been training in discipline all of his life, he heated up his hands carefully. It was almost symbolic. The way he held you so carefully was almost like he was cradling a small flame. Kuai Liang made sure to make it hot enough that you would no longer feel the chill of the night air, but not hot enough to make you uncomfortable, not to even mention hurt you.

The last thing he would want to do is hurt you. You were his everything.

His eyes, those dark brown eyes you loved to look so deeply at, stared at your face. While he normally loved to watch you, after all you were his favorite thing to look at, he now watched you carefully to gauge your reaction. He sought out to see any signs of discomfort or pain. He had to make sure you were feeling as comfortable as possible. After all, you deserve nothing less than the best.

“Is this better, love?” Kuai Liang asked, his voice quiet amidst the silence. There were not many things the man craved. It was a thing he prided himself on, how he was considerably humble, but he couldn’t deny how he longed for your approval. Even in the small things. A breath of relief was released from his chest as he watched you slowly nod yes. “Good.”

It was only then that Kuai Liang allowed a rare smile to appear on his lips. Your eyes fluttered open, and you couldn’t help but to internally swoon over the sight. How could you not? It was so precious and rare. You stared at his smile, trying to sear the image into your mind permanently.

Maybe instead of using his powers he should have just smiled instead. It made you feel warm enough.

BI-HAN

You pressed your forehead against Bi-Han’s, his hands drawing you closer to him. It was quiet in his room, even the quiet breaths between you two seemed almost too loud for the peace. And yet you did not complain. How could you? You were having a private moment with the man everyone swore was made of ice.

“Stay with me.” The man murmurs, his voice breaking the silence. You smiled at his demand, although it was more appropriate to call it a plea. You nodded, not wanting to break the moment of vulnerability you were bestowed. Your hands reached up to cup his face, matching the way he was holding you. He took a deep breath in, as if the next word was a heavy burden. “Please.”

His hands held you in such a specific way. It was careful and loving, but it was in such a way that felt like he was hiding you away from the world. It was not in the way that appeared that he was ashamed, not at all. If anything, Bi-Han was proud to be yours. No, the way he held you was so…private.

It was as if he were shielding the two of you from nonexistent prying eyes. This was a moment to be shared between the two of you, not anyone else. Not even the world itself was allowed to intrude in such a special and sacred moment. Now that was the way Bi-Han held you.

He held you like a treasure he wanted to keep all to himself.

Gone from his face was the usual stern look he wore. Instead it was replaced with a slightly vulnerable softer look. His eyebrows were not furrowed, instead lifted slightly. His eyes felt warm and full of silent admiration for no one else but you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt all too lucky to be blessed with such a sight.

His hands, which were normally frosted over, were merely cool to the touch. It wasn’t uncomfortable, instead the gentle touch with the coolness made your heart flutter. His thumbs traced patterns on your cheeks, as if creating his own little snowflakes on your skin. The normally cold grandmaster’s drop from the eyes he seemed to get lost in a little too often towards your soft and pretty lips.

With a sharp inhale, he lifted his forehead away from yours for a moment. Unable to resist, the cyromancer placed a gentle kiss against your lips. His breath when he pulled away was cool against your lips.

In this moment of vulnerability, he allowed a small, rare smile to grace his lips.

You swallowed, your eyes zeroing right onto the smile. How rare it was, how precious. How could you not help but gawk and admire? Despite your lover being a man who wielded ice, you found yourself melting all too easily into his gentle touches.

“Thank you for being here.” He murmured again, allowing himself to bare yet another part of his soul to you. Your thumbs traced his cheekbones and he knew the motion was answer enough. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax into your touch.

This was truly a moment that only you two were allowed to witness.

TOMAS VRBADA

As your forehead connected with Tomas’, you heard a sigh of exhaustion leave his lips. His arms draped around you lazily, almost having not enough energy to keep them around you. You let his weight lean onto you, almost letting the man nearly collapse on top of you. Another sigh left his lips as your hands kept his face close. It was almost as if you were keeping him up with your hands alone, at this point.

His eyes were shut, and you could see the hints of exhaustion begin to peek through his perfect face. As much as you knew he loved his new duties for the clan, you also knew he was beginning to hit his limits. Your thumb ran carefully across his face, almost like a little massage. The smallest of smiles appeared on his face at the little gesture.

“Training initiates are hard.” Tomas mumbled, and your heart nearly broke at how utterly tired he sounded. Even despite his exhaustion, you could tell the passion he had for his responsibilities. Still, it worries you no less. You hummed, an acknowledgement of his tiredness. You felt him lean a little more into your touch, allowing himself to indulge within the small moment you were sharing with him.

His arms moved around you a little less languidly, as if he found a second wind within your presence. And it was true, just being around you was enough to give him the strength to do more than he thought he could. Oftentimes when he felt like collapsing he thought of you waiting for him, and it gave him just enough energy to make it back into your arms every single day.

With another sigh he pulled you closer, a sense of greediness in his actions. You let him, indulging him. His smile grew a bit as he nuzzled your nose against yours slowly. A laugh left your lips at the action, and Toma’s heart couldn’t help but leap at the sound. Just your laugh was enough to re-energize him. Did you know how much you meant to him?

“Thank you for waiting for me.” Tomas said, his voice dripping with all the love he held for you. He knew that sometimes you would wait long stretches of time for him to return after every day ever since he was entrusted with more responsibilities. You never complained, never whined, you just welcomed him back every day with open arms.

He could ask for nothing more.

With a little chuckle, he squeezed you tightly. It was as if he was trying to show you how much he adored you, just how grateful he was with one giant hug. For that, you rewarded him with a small kiss, featherlight, right above his left eyebrow on his scar. It was a gesture Tomas swooned over. Even if you could not remove the scar itself, you could at least imbue better memories associated with it.

Even if he was given the weight of the world to balance on his shoulders, he would not complain as long as he had you to return to every night.

SHANG TSUNG

Your forehead pressed against Shang Tsung’s and suddenly it felt like the world didn’t matter. Your eyes closed, a sign of trust that Shang Tsung truly didn’t deserve. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, allowing you to pull yourself close to the sorcerer. His arms, meanwhile, draped in a most elegant manner around you.

In these small moments where you closed your eyes, Shang Tsung truly let himself indulge in the beauty that was you. His eyes scanned your face, noting all the features that truly made you one of a kind. All the little things that you perceived as quirks and imperfections seemed only to create a masterpiece for him. For a man who has been condemned to a life of misery by the universe, he was fortunate that it was kind enough to let him meet you.

As your eyes fluttered open, the man had to reel himself back in. His gaze, though still soft, became just the tiniest bit more guarded. His smile which had been so genuine became just a little more precise and practiced. It wasn’t as if he didn’t show any love, far from it. But he had to remember that with the ambitions and plans he held, he had to just be a little more protective of himself. It’d be simply foolish to show just how much he adored you.

Everyday with you, however, the cracks were getting harder and harder to conceal.

“You look simply amazing my dear.” Shang Tsung complimented, raising a careful hand to stroke your cheek. Despite his compliment, that was not how he felt. He felt more for you, and you had no idea. You were stunning, gorgeous, divine, so much more than just amazing. But even all the words he could think of to describe you was not sufficient enough. For now, just amazing would do.

Your smile, which you blessed him with, had his heart aflutter. Before meeting you, Shang Tsung had little reservations about using others for his own gain. Others were simply an end to a means for him. And yet, with you, the idea of lumping you with the others he was quite ready to dispose of made him feel uneasy.

You were much more than just another stepping stone. Oh, but if the world were to know about his weakness for you, the universe would cast their cruel eyes upon you next. Selfish as the sorcerer was in keeping the truth of how deep his feelings were for you, he also saw it as a blessing. As long as the universe did not scorn you the way it did him, it was enough for now.

Letting the mask facade of how he felt slip just a touch, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. With pride and satisfaction he felt your cheeks heat up just for him. Sometimes it comforted him to know that you felt perhaps a fraction of the love he truly held for you.

Maybe one day, just maybe, he’d finally let you know just how much power you had over him and his heart.

MILEENA

Your forehead pressed against Mileena’s, and you wished it was enough to drive the whispers away. In the privacy of your shared chambers, it was quiet. It was a nice reprieve from the stress of the throne and the doubters of your lover that you so loathed. Your hands reached up to cup her pretty face that you adored, looking into her eyes.

A smile was on her face. It was a weary one. You knew while Mileena strove to be the best Empress she could be, and took great pride in it, she often was tired by the end of the day because of it. Even if it was not physically, the mental toll of being on top of such a throne was tough work. You did not envy the burden she shouldered, but there were times you wished you could share the burden of it just so she can rest a little bit better.

You knew you could not, so you did whatever else you could instead.

You moved your forehead away to press a few kisses to her forehead, wishing so desperately that it would abate the worries of doubt that were planted in her head. If not that, you hoped that your kisses at least passed along some of your own energy so she could power through. You wondered, for a moment, if it was possible to do that. Your thumbs traced her cheekbones, and you wondered silently to yourself how you were so lucky to become her lover. You nearly missed the adoring gleam in her eyes, and it was a look that made your breath catch.

“I’ll prove those doubters wrong, don’t worry.” Your empress promised, her voice fueled with the determination of a woman who has been scorned. You smiled, knowing she had been able to read you and your thoughts like a book. To be so in sync with your lover was a blessing you were ever thankful for. As an acknowledgement of her words, you gave her another kiss, this time pressing it upon the scar that went through her eyebrow.

You never doubted Mileena’s prowess. She had so much drive, how could you not? And yet, if you could, you would do anything to silence the doubters. How dare they question her rule, how could they not see the wonderful woman who was born to rule? You often told yourself, to calm yourself down, that they were merely jealous of your lover.

“There is nothing more I need than you to be by my side, dearest.” Mileena told you, her fingers tracing your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat, and you knew in that moment that if you could, you would stay by her side to always cheer her on. She didn’t even need to ask you.

You grabbed her hands, intertwining them with yours. You squeezed them tightly, trying to pour all the encouragement that you could not find enough words for in that one action. She returned the squeeze, a content sigh leaving her lips as her smile grew.

Maybe you couldn’t help with every trouble she had, but you could at least make her smile…and maybe that was just enough.

KITANA

You pressed your forehead against Kitana’s brow, and finally you felt your worries dissipate. It was hard to be the lover of a Supreme Commander. Every day you feared for your lover’s life. It was not as if you doubted her prowess on the battlefield. It was far from that, you thought she was the best fit for Supreme Commander after all. Even if she was the best fit, you sometimes selfishly wished that someone else would take her place so she could stay safe.

You have never confessed this selfish little secret to her.

It was just that…war was cruel. You’ve heard and known the horrors of war and how death doesn’t discriminate. Sometimes accidents happen, or a death can come out of nowhere. You feared that one day it might take the best thing you have in your life.

But now you didn’t need to worry, because now she was back and in your arms. You let out a sigh as you pressed your forehead a little more towards her. Meanwhile, your fingers traced the injuries she had suffered from the skirmishes she had gone through. You noted how the bandages from the medics were fresh. Your heart squeezed at the sight of them. If only civil war was not looming over Outworld, then she would not have to sacrifice herself out there on the battlefield.

“It’s okay, I’m safe.” Kitana whispered, dragging you out of your worrying mind. Her fingers traced your cheek, and she looked at you with a gentle gaze. You marveled at her ability to whisk away your worries. Looking into her eyes alone calmed you down and made you feel like everything was alright. You wished you could do the same for her. Her other hand intertwined with yours, squeezing it gently. You noted how her hands were still remarkably soft for a woman who goes to war. A soft smile appeared on her face, and you could not help the way that your heart raced.

Words caught in your throat, and you found yourself unable to express the utter amount of love you felt for the princess. How could you express these overwhelming feelings that threatened to consume you? You figured it was impossible to ever express just how much she meant to you with words alone. Instead, you moved to press a few kisses on her injuries. If only you had the ability to heal her wounds just like that. Did she know you would do that for her? A light laugh left Kitana’s lips at your actions, and you swooned over the sound.

“I appreciate you.” She said, her voice light with the remnants of the laughter she had blessed upon you. Her hand squeezed yours again to punctuate her point. You smiled at her, wanting to ingrain the sight of her being happy and by your side forever into your mind. Your thumb rubbed small circles on her hand.

Maybe she had to go to war, it was a harsh reality you’ve accepted, but as long as she returned to be in your arms…that would be enough.

ASHRAH

Your forehead pressed against Ashrah’s, and the music in the background made the moment feel just perfect. A wide smile appeared on your face as you guided your lover through a slow dance. You watched with joy as your lover’s eyes were wide with admiration as you led her through the dance. You wondered for a moment if she knew how much you adored her in return. Surely she didn’t, how could she? The both of you swayed back and forth, enjoying the intimate moment.

“There was nothing like this back in the Netherrealm.” Ashrah marveled, a smile that made your heart melt on her lips. It was the very same smile she would give you every time you showed her the joys of Earthrealm. You could never tire of the sight, and you knew you’d do anything to see it over and over again.

That was exactly why you introduced her to the idea of slow dancing. You knew she would have probably never experienced anything like this. And you were right. You were honored to be her first ever dance partner. The twinkle in her eye showed that she was just as happy to have you guiding her through this dance.

Together with the memories you formed together, you knew she was creating more and more of a home within this realm. You hoped that you were included in her idea of home.

A laugh left your lips as you pulled her close, craving more contact. Despite her dexterity in combat, she was not used to dancing. Chuckles left the both of you as you stumbled a bit, tripping over each other’s feet. Luckily, she did not fall. Instead, you held her tightly. You gripped her hip tightly, making sure she was steady.

“Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting that.” Ashrah apologized after her laughter died down. You found you could only grin and shake your head at her apology. You two were out here to create memories and have fun, not to dance perfectly for anyone else. She could step on your toes every few seconds and you could care less. Her laughter alone made up for any mistakes she made. “Thank you for showing me these Earthrealm customs.”

Anytime, you thought. Honestly, you would do anything for her. It was hard to believe she was a demon with a heart as pure as her’s. You didn’t care though. Her past as a demon was often a source of confusion and concern for others, but never for you. All that mattered was who she was now, and she was simply fantastic.

“I think I quite like dancing.” Ashrah commented, pressing a light kiss upon your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at her with eyes full of adoration. How could you not swoon over her? You returned the favor, pressing a few light kisses all over her face. You couldn’t help it. Another melodic laugh left her lips.

Yeah, you think you like dancing too.

HAVIK

Your forehead bumped against Havik’s and you enjoyed the moment of serenity that was brought with it. You watched as your lover’s eyes closed, a rare moment in which he allowed himself to relax. You couldn’t help but to feel honored by the small gesture. He was always fighting, striving to fight for what his ideals were, but around you the man felt no need.

You eyed his scars, the ones he had gotten as a slave. Carefully, you reached out to brush your fingers against his scars. The care you put into the touch was not necessary, you knew Havik was strong and a simple brush against them would not break the man. Yet it felt it was necessary, These were reminders of his harsh past, a memory of why he was out there, fighting.

Honestly, all of him was a canvas. You knew very well that your lover was capable of healing his wounds ever since he met Quan Chi. Had he wanted, you knew he could repair the wounds he had gained through all of his life. But he didn’t. His body was his story. Every bump, bruise, cut that left a mark became like a stroke of paint. You couldn’t help but adore how he kept his imperfections. Not many would.

“Most don’t realize why I keep those around.” Havik grunted. There was a sense of frustration in his tone, no one else but you understood the vision he saw for the future, let alone understood the way he thought. You knew though. Even if he were to forget everything about you, he knew he would recognize your understanding from the reverence you carried when you traced the past injuries he wore like a badge. Only others who understood his ideals for the future would do the same.

You also knew that he thought it looked more fearsome. A burnt and scarred man was much more striking than a normal man. Your fingers trailed up his body, mapping out the locations of his injuries with your touch. Then, you let your fingers rest on his jawline right below where his flesh turned into exposed gums and teeth.

“You understand me.” Your lover said, his voice filled with the same amount of admiration for you as it did when he spoke of his vision for Seidou. You couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat as you realized that fact. You bumped your forehead gently against his again. Seeing as he had no lips to kiss, the two of you had settled on forehead bumping instead.

You felt Havik raise a hand, his touch gentle as it gripped your chin. He wasn’t known for gentle touches or gestures, but you were the exception. Softly, he bumped his forehead against yours again. Then, he rubbed it back and forth affectionately. You were, perhaps, the only person in the world he would allow himself to be this quaint with.

It was all for you, the one who he considered to be a true partner.

CASSIE CAGE

Your forehead settled against Cassie’s, and suddenly you were disinterested in the movie in the background. Instead, you were far too preoccupied with the sight of your lover and how radiant she looked with the colors of the television shining against her skin. How was it that every type of color seemed to compliment her perfectly?

“I thought we were supposed to be watching a movie.” Cassie teased, her eyebrows raising as she sent you a playful grin. She was a hypocrite though, as her attention was more on you rather than the movie she had picked out. Her arm was slung around your shoulders and you were cuddled close together on the couch.

Today was one of her rare days off. Ever since she got promoted, she’s been busier than ever. And yet, there were moments you two managed to find and relax together. Tonight was supposed to be movie night, you let her pick anything she wanted…as long as it wasn’t one of her dad’s films. She rolled her eyes at your little stipulation, but agreed. Your lover saw enough of her dad at work.

Even with your little agreement, you found yourself entranced with Cassie more. I mean, how could you not be? Her smile just seemed to be more eye-catching than anything Hollywood could produce. You were so entranced by her, in fact, that you didn’t notice the hand that snuck up to pinch your cheek. You jolted in surprise, letting out a small laugh.

“Thought I lost you there!” Your lover giggled, her hand now cupping your cheek instead. Her thumb gently rubbed over the part she had pinched, as if to soothe it. She let out a small sigh as she moved to nuzzle your cheek before giving it an affectionate smooch. “You know, Grandma Carlton has been dying to meet you.” She confessed, her voice going a touch sentimental.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt excitement course through your veins. Has Cassie been telling good things about you to her grandmother? Upon seeing your giddy expression, she squeezed your shoulder with the hand that laid upon it.

“Hey, have I ever told you how much I adore you?” Cassie asked, and you felt like you were falling all over again. Cassie must have taken acting lessons at one point, because she knew exactly how to make you swoon as if she were the lead in a movie. Her eyes glimmered with affection as she pressed another kiss to your cheek.

A laugh that revitalized your soul came from your lover as you returned the favor and gave her a soft kiss back. In the midst of her laughter, you vaguely heard her mention how you were both definitely missing out on the plot. You didn’t care though, you were too busy admiring the real beauty in front of you.

Who needed movies? All you needed was Cassie, and you had a feeling she didn’t mind missing out too just for you.

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slaybestieslay946 · 2 months

Note

HIIIII OMG IM THE ONE WHO REQUESTED THE READER JOINS LUKE AND I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT WAS SO GOOD I LOVE IT SOSO MUCH THANK YOUUU

if it's not much can i request something else? like a 5+1 thing where it's like 5 times luke and reader didn't realize they were acting like a couple, and one time reaized it and made it official!

THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQ SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG IVE BEEN SOOO BUSY AND I RLLY WANTED TO GET THIS ONE PERFECT.

I sorta changed it a bit so Luke is down bad and reader is the one who doesn't realise they were acting like a couple.

You Didn't Realise?!

MASTERLIST

summary: 5 ways Luke acts like your boyfriend, and the one reason you realised and made it official

word count: 2800

pairing: luke castellan x apollo!reader

warnings: minor swearing

I : He always looks for you first

When Luke returned from his quest, bloodied and battered, stumbling down half blood hill with a scar down his face, you were the first one he looked for.

He quickly spotted you, your hair shining in the sun. The sun always found you, like a magnetic tether, a trait inherited from your father.

In some ways, Luke could relate. He too also felt constantly drawn to you, and as soon as he caught sight of your face, all the humiliation from failing his quest melted away.

You were laughing with one of your half-siblings, playfully joking like you always did. And then your sibling nudged you, pointing up at Luke, and the smile dropped. Even in his dazed state, he noticed the way your face contorted in worry as you began to sprint up the hill towards him.

He wanted to wipe the sad expression away and replace it with the bright smile you usually sported.

You continued towards him, only slowing from your sprint when you were just metres away, coming to a stop directly in front of him.

Immediately, you took his face in your hands, inspecting the slight cuts and bruises that covered it.

“Not even gonna say hello?” He panted, suddenly out of breath, partly from his general exhaustion, and partly from the way you were holding his face.

“Hello Luke. Now tell me where it hurts.” You asked, moving your hands away from his face and running them down his sides, carefully watching his reaction to the pressure.

“Nothing hurts. I’m all good, Doc.” He chuckled to mask his wince as you skimmed over the patchwork of bruises.

“Like hell you are. We’re getting you to the infirmary. Where are Beckendorf and Rodriguez?” You asked, wrapping a hand around his shoulder to help him down the hill.

“Just comin’.” Luke said, jerking his head back in the direction he had just come from, and when you looked back for yourself, you could see the other two boys at the top of the hill, looking in significantly better shape than he did.

“Alright. C’mon then, we gotta get you patched up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He answered, the same dazed smile

“You’ll be the death of me one day, y’know that?”

“Mhm.”

And as the rest of the camp looked on at the pair of you, they couldn’t help but wonder, when would you finally get together?

II : He always saves you dessert

Luke watched as you walked into the dining pavilion late, and as usual there was a patched up camper trailing behind you.

You turned to give the boy a stern talking to, more than likely chastising him for being injured in the first place, before striding up to collect your food.

Of course, when you turned up 20 minutes late to dinner, the dessert options became severely limited, and by the time you arrived there was no cake left, only a few pots of yoghurt made from the strawberries in the field.

Luke watched as you screwed your nose up in disgust. You hated yoghurt, he knew that (obviously).

You sighed, cutting your losses and retreating to the apollo table, a few end slices of bread and salad items being the only things on your plate.

“Hey man, how’d you get an extra portion?” Chris asked from beside Luke, and he snapped his gaze away from you and back to his brother.

“Oh, yeah, it’s for Y/N.”

Chris rolled his eyes, “Of course it is. You gonna give it to her, or are you just gonna sit here staring?”

“Shut up.”

“Y’know I’m right.”

“You’ll be right when you admit you love staring at Clarisse in capture the flag.” Luke replied quickly, standing up to walk over to you.

Chris mumbled something slightly incoherent, but Luke didn’t pay him any mind as he strode towards the Apollo table, plate in hand.

“Hey. Long day?” He asked, smirking at you while holding the plate behind his back so you couldn’t see it.

“Ugh, you have no idea Castellan. And I missed dessert again! Can you believe that?” You complained loudly, waving your crust of bread around like you were conducting an orchestra.

“Hmm, sounds rough. Lucky for you, someone saved you an extra portion.” He dramatically produced the plate from behind his back, revealing the extra large slice of cake he’d stolen from one of the nymphs.

You gasped in delight as he placed it before you, “Thank you!”

Luke couldn’t help but grin as well as you tore into it with glee, “Well, I know vanilla's your favourite, couldn’t have you missing out, could we?”

You sighed, “You’re the best.”

“I know,” He preened before softening his voice slightly, “Just don’t overwork yourself, ‘kay?”

“Alright. That goes for you too, hero.” You bargained, gazing at him intensely.

“Whatever you say, Doc.” He smirked, before turning around and leaving you to it.

You continued eating your slice of cake, unable to fight away the bright grin that invaded your face.

“You two are disgusting.” Will Solace remarked, the similar smile on his face not matching the tone of his words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You- He- Ugh! You’re so hopeless!”

III : He always calls you up for demonstrations

“Hmm, I need someone to demonstrate…” He pondered out loud, surveying the archery range for someone suitable. And, as usual, Luke’s eyes were magnetically drawn to you as you walked past his group of students.

“And who better than my favourite daughter of Apollo! Hey, Y/N, c'mere a sec!”

You spun around to work out who was calling you over, rolling your eyes fondly as you realised it was the son of Hermes, as usual.

“What do you need now, Castellan?” You asked, striding over to the group.

“Just a quick demonstration from the best archer in camp.”

You sighed yet again, but gave in, just like you always did when he was involved.

“Fine.”

“Great! Now, kids, let's see how a professional does it.”

Luke then led the group around so they were parallel to you, and they could inspect your form as you fired.

You held up your bow, removing an arrow from the quiver slung around your shoulder and notching it into position all in one fluid movement.

“See, look how good her form is. Perfect posture. One foot forward, torso turned to the side,” Luke whispered, as if narrating a nature documentary for national geographic, “She pulls the string back to her cheek, breathes in, and releases!” He cried, and you did just that, sending the arrow flying into the centre of the target.

“A perfect shot.” Luke declared, smiling at you in pride.

You shrugged, “I never miss.”

“Alright kids, have a go yourselves, see if you can replicate Y/N’s form!” He said, sending them all rushing forwards to collect bows and have a go for themselves on the archery range.

“You need any more help? Or am I free to go?” You asked teasingly, placing the bow and quiver back in the right spot.

“Hm, I suppose you're done. Although, your posture could use a little work.”

“Oh, I thought it was perfect?”

“Did I say that?” He mused, although he was unable to hide the amusement in his eyes.

“Bye Castellan.” You sang, flicking his shoulder as you walked past him.

He turned around to watch you walk away, a tinge of blush coating his cheeks.

“Is she your girlfriend?” A small voice piped up from beside him, and he turned to see that one of the kids he was teaching hadn’t yet begun archery.

“No!” He said, all too quickly, before ushering the girl towards the bows.

VI : He’s always watching you work

“Ok, so, you’re going to need to keep an eye on that cut alright? And try not to get any mud in it this time, we don’t want it getting infected again, do we?”

The kid you were currently treating nodded vigorously, probably thinking that the more engaged he seemed the faster he would escape the infirmary.

“Alright, you can go back to training now.” You sighed, silently praying that the young Ares boy would at least try and be gentle on the lines of stitching in his arm, although you didn’t have much hope.

He thanked you quickly, before running off out of the room, grabbing his sword and nearly slashing through a bright-eyed Luke Castellan on his way.

“Oh, god. What have you done now?” You asked, hands on your hips.

He held his hands up in surrender, “Nothing, nothing. I’m all good. Just had some free time and thought I’d come see my favourite Apollo kid.”

“You know you’re allowed in here unless you're injured or visiting someone, right?” You reminded gently, hiding your bright smile behind an exasperated expression.

“Actually, I’m both of those things.”

“Really?”

“Yep. I’m visiting you, and my heart is awfully wounded by how cruelly you treat me.” He smirked, and you rolled your eyes, walking back to the drawer you had been organising before the arrival of your most boisterous patient.

“Does that mean I can stay?” He asked, following you with swift strides.

“I can’t exactly stop you, can I?”

He chuckled quietly, giving you shoulder a quick squeeze before looking down at the drawer full of bandages you were sorting through.

“D’you want some help?”

You shrugged noncommittally and he immediately knelt down beside you and began rolling several bandages up and sorting them into their proper sections, humming happily under his breath the whole time.

And that’s how the pair of you continued for the rest of the afternoon. If you needed something of a high shelf, Luke was reaching up to grab it for you. If you wanted a specific item or tool, he was already beside you, holding it out as if he had read your mind.

And the only reward he wanted for his hard work was to see your face melt into a smile when the pair of you locked eyes. And of course the lollipop you offered him at the end of the day for being so helpful.

V: He always saves you a seat a campfire

Luke was well aware that, as an Apollo kid, you loved the campfire. Despite the fact that you weren’t as musically talented as your siblings, it always brought a smile to your face to see them perform. He loved watching as you clapped along in earnest, cheering loudly when the song finished and loudly demanding another.

So, he always saved you a seat (right beside him, of course).

But, on this particular night, he’d caught wind of the fact some Demeter boy had been sniffing around, saying that he was going to ask you to sit next to him, instead of Luke.

“Aw, is Lukey boy getting jealous?” Chris jeered, following Luke’s gaze as it landed on you, conversing with the boy from Demeter.

“No. Not like she’ll sit with him anyway.” He proclaimed, his voice filled with a certainty he did not feel.

“You sure?” Chris asked, watching as you laughed brightly at whatever joke the boy was making.

“Oh, I’m so sure. Certain, even. So certain.” Luke said, drumming his fingers on the wood of the table, while trying to reassure himself.

This evening, you got to the campfire before him, and as he began to walk towards where you were sitting, he caught a glimpse of that boy making a beeline to you from the other direction.

He quickened his pace, only slowing slightly to revel in the way your face broke into sunshine when you caught sight of him.

Unfortunately, that momentary lapse in concentration was nearly his undoing, as only mere moments later, your attention was arrested by the boy from Demeter who appeared to have magically materialised right in front of you.

He sped up until it felt like he was running, sliding into the seat next to you right as the Demeter boy made his move.

“...do you mind if I sit-”

“Sorry man. Seat’s taken.” Luke smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Oh, uh, sorry. Didn’t realise it was like that.” The boy looked between the two of you, the expression on his face torn between bitter and disappointed. He then made a quick exit, leaving you to try and digest the situation.

“Sorry I’m late.” He smiled, not moving the hand from where it sat on your upper arm.

“No problem,” You said, a look of bemusement on your face, “Gonna tell me what that was all about?”

“Um-”

“And why are you so out of breath? And-”

He was saved from further questioning by your siblings starting the first song of the night.

I: He always worried about you

“How much longer are we gonna have to walk?” Luke whined, although it was pretty obvious he wasn’t really annoyed by the bright smile on his face.

“Not that much farther!” You called back, practically skipping ahead as you neared the edge of the strawberry fields.

“Good. I feel like my feet are gonna fall off. Y’know how to fix fallen-off-feet, Doc?”

“Are you doubting my skills, Castellan?” You gasped, spinning around to face him, your hands planted firmly on your hips.

“Hmm, maybe?” He mused, smiling wider as you skipped back to him.

“Well, don’t. Or I’ll hit you over the head with the picnic basket.” You responded, before linking your arm with his, and leading him to a small spot that was free of the strawberry plants.

“Happy now?”

He sighed, placing the basket down gently before slumping to the floor, “Overjoyed.”

He stayed like that for a minute, watching out of the corner of his eye as you spread the blanket across the dirt floor, smoothing it down gently and unpacking the various food items you had prepared.

Luke cracked a small grin as he watched, marvelling in the way you glowed in the sun. Everyday he thought you couldn't get more beautiful, and everyday he was proven wrong.

He sat up to tuck in to the picnic, admiring the way you rolled your eyes at him with fondness as you also moved to sit down.

“Finally decided to- OW!” You exclaimed, cutting off your own statement as you cried out in pain.

Luke was immediately by your side, asking what was wrong as you tentatively picked your hand up off the floor, shaking it side to side.

“Holy shit that hurts.” You murmured, looking down at the thorn that had lodged itself into your hand.

“You're gonna be ok, don’t worry, I’ll get it out for you.” He reassured, although he seemed much more worried than you.

“Luke,” You laughed, “I’m all good. Camp’s best doctor, remember?” You reminded, before reaching into your palm and pulling the thorn out in one fell swoop.

As soon as it was out, he was grabbing your palm, cradling it in his hand and inspecting the tiny wound carefully.

“You're sure you’re ok? We can-”

“I’m perfectly fine. Why are you so stressed about this?” You asked, confused. He had always been protective, but not usually to such an extreme.

“Oh, uh, I dunno, just don’t want you to get hurt.” He muttered, still running his fingers along the palm of your hand.

“So I can’t have a thorn in my hand, but you're allowed to wander into the infirmary with massive gashes up your side?”

He chuckled, his voice low, “Yeah. I guess that’s right.”

“You’re impossible, Castellan.” You whispered, and when your eyes met once again, you felt a shift in the air.

Suddenly all the events throughout your friendship made perfect sense, and it was like you had finally found the missing piece to a seemingly impossible puzzle.

Luke had clearly seen the realisation in your eyes, as he raised his free hand to cup your cheek, your face warming slightly under his touch.

"Please tell me I'm not reading too much into all of this." You sighed.

"You're not. I don't know how you didn't realise." Luke chuckled, "May I?" He asked, and you nodded, both of you moving forward to meet the other’s lips.

And you couldn’t help but wonder, how you hadn’t realised sooner.

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan #x reader #fluff #ask #writing #fanfic #5+1 things #5 + 1 fic #cuteeee

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trashmouth-richie · 2 months

Text

the raven told me of you

eddie x female reader

crafted from this prompt list by: @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing @allthingsjoeq

summary: eddie is released after six months of being behind bars with a false identity, he was never lonely because you were there with him, until you weren’t. now, coming home to a new life with his old name granted back to him. he navigates flashbacks, and trying to settle back in with wayne in private protective seclusion, alone— or is he?

8.1k

tw: 18+ angst. fluff of a new relationship, light smut— s1, s4 canon events with reader inserted into the timeline, mentions of insanity, death, witness protection, government cover-ups etc. this could be a continuation or stand alone fic of your touch but is not necessary to read.

releasing: thursday 3/7

Owens’ worked his charms. The government covered up the mass hysteria and pinned the murders of Chrissy, Patrick and Fred on an accidental chemical reaction from arsenic, radiation and terpenoids. The results left their bones liquified from the toxic lick of acid and torqued before solidifying once again.

The Hawkin’s Post called it ‘a combination of sickly tainted water from the school cafeteria.’

Parents were urged to have their children tested at the local clinic for extra precautions, and thankfully no one else had been affected.

On Thursday the Eighteenth of September, at approximately 1300 hours… an hour into quiet personal time, Mr. Edward Munson, was once again, a free man.

At first he thought it was possibly a mistake, a horrifying joke fed by his many delusions. But when they called him into the warden’s office, he sat across an oak desk from a tall man with a skin bald head, shining like a lightbulb.

He used Eddie’s full name—not the persona he was given— and gave him ten minutes to collect his belongings. It was then he came to realize that maybe he wasn’t crazy after all.

Six long months in the clink with his brain spinning hallucinations beyond his control he wasn’t sure if he’d come out of it without a government issued lobotomy— and in the blink of an eye, it came to an abrupt end.

Prison was cold, unwelcoming in shades of gray coating the ceilings, walls, floors, any service imaginable. As if there was one color sanctioned to the American Prison system and gray was the less costly option.

Concrete was probably more pliable than his bed was. The food was impeccable— if you were a raven on a mealworm diet. It was just shy of hell, and it made the inhabitants calloused to a helping hand or squirreling away from making friends.

Seven months prior, Eddie was in his prime. For the first time in his life he was happy with where he was at, school was almost over and he had a true chance of walking the stage of graduation.

And you, he had you.

Beautiful, charismatic, sweet you.

It was almost like he conjured you up himself with a hard roll against a plyboard table of a twenty sided dice. Mesmerizing eyes that seemed to shimmer in any light, a smile that could soften Medusa’s rocky stare. You were perfect.

The first time his eyes laid on you was across the cafeteria. Everyone moved with the mundane routine, but you were shining like a spotlight had been placed on you overhead.

Your soft skin beckoned him like a moth to a flame. Smooth as silk, and he started to wonder what would your flesh feel like in his hands…would you cower away from their roughness?

His mind raced, and his heart pumped firmly whenever you walked past him, you smelled like ripe fruit, warming by the sun, and Eddie began to understand why Eve was tempted so easily.

And so began the daily task of seeking you out. He was able to spot you like Waldo amongst the boring gray faces of every other girl.

You shone like a gem, a sapphire filled with the darkest of depths, and like an enthusiast to your craft, he wanted to know the breadth of your soul.

His gem.

It was by total chance that he stumbled upon you after months of stray glances. He was walking backwards, yelling to Gareth about being on time for Hellfire that night, when he bumped into something that yelped in surprise.

It was you.

Sprawled and landing hard on your butt. Papers scattered from the collision of your face mashing into a denim patchwork vest.

He stumbled over your feet, falling beside you in a mess of curls and cigarettes, the one between his lips still intact. Your eyes met his for the first time, and that’s all it took for him to fall head over feet, in this case Reeboks, Eddie was a goner.

Your smile spread a warmth in his chest that he had never felt before. And your laugh? Made his knees physically weak.

He still didn’t know how he managed to swing it, but he charmed you into agreeing to a ride home. Conversation came easy with you. You were sweet yet comical, a bit of a smart ass. He was grinning like an idiot.

Chatting about books, then music, he bantered back and forth, teasing on your choice of horror, astounded in your tastes— but nevermore, he was enthused, enamored.

Witty and shit giving, you had him wrapped around your finger before the van pulled in front of your place. A permanent dimple pecked into his cheek that wouldn’t subside no matter how hard he tried.

A ten digit number exchanged on lined paper was the start of the end. A corny fist pump and a pep talk on his jaunt back to the trailer park.

Eddie was living on cloud nine.

He called you that night, foregoing any dumb advice he had seen in movies or heard at school at waiting a certain amount of days or hours, he went on pure instinct alone, and almost threw up all over himself after punching the last number.

You answered with your name after saying a proper greeting and he stumbled over his own tongue before choking out that it was him.

“Sorry who?” you had teased, Eddie’s heart fell into his stomach with relief when you giggled on the other end, “are you calling to sell me some boy scout popcorn, because cheddar is my favorite… but for you I might just buy a tin of caramel.”

A heart laugh erupted from his trailer, loud and barking. “Boy Scouts weren’t really my thing, princess.”

“Ah,” you reasoned, “knots too hard?”

He laughed again, that damn dimple achingly prominent as he smiled through the receiver, and you swore you could hear his cheeks squeak, “something like that.”

An hour had passed and Eddie found himself in the snares of coiled phone cords as he wore a pattern from his bedroom to the kitchen, fiddling with things left on the counter. Even going so far as to start a load of laundry and empty the sink.

You too were in the trenches, living solely on the scraps of information of Eddie’s life that he tossed to you like a pigeon in a park.

He was smart, filled with colossal amounts of knowledge on anything from cars, to reading sheet music. He had an ear for rhythm, cocky enough to have you hum a tune so he could pick up on it, and add to it. Eddie was a closeted genius under the untamed curls.

“Shit— I’m talking too much, huh? " he asked after a long winded speech about a campaign he was planning for the freshman in Hellfire. “I get carried away sometimes,” he admitted with a chuckle, a ripple of embarrassment heating over his body in a wave.

“Not at all,” you eagerly replied, “tell me more about Kas!”

“Well princess, I could show you, if you wanted?” He prayed you’d say yes, to whom or what he was praying to— hewasn’t sure, just crossed fingers and pinched his eyes shut in hopes that you wouldn’t think he was some loser yanking his dick to figurines and elf lore.

But you didn’t, you had said yes faster than he finished asking. And from there— it was history.

He went to bed with a spinning head and a heart wrapped in lace, sugar coated with your sweet voice in his ear, the same lopsided grin he had worn since tripping over you at school.

—

Stepping out into the first breath of freedom, the sun felt heavy on his skin. It itched his arm hairs, the heat touching his neck for the first time in years since he grew out his hair. The brightness stung his eyes.

He had become accustomed to the hollowing sag of fluorescent lights paling his skin to almost translucency, a true dracula in the pits of a four walled hell.

A croaked caw is loud overhead, singular— followed by a fluttering of wings, and the bend of a tree limb.

The clothes he wore didn’t feel like him, the ripped cotton Hellfire shirt wasn’t clean coming in and wasn’t clean coming out, Shredded where the demobats feasted on him like a hotdog at a ball field.

His jeans stunk of decay and murky water from the gate. Caked with mud, dried several times in the days of being on the run, the jeans chafed his skin raw, gnawing on his leg hairs until they popped free, giving up the fight.

A manila envelope held his rings, clashing together in a melodic tone. He slotted them one by one on the correct fingers, yet they felt loose, heavy and familiar all at once.

He was ready to pitch the envelope into a trash bin when he felt something else in the bottom, having to rip it apart to get to whatever was inside. When the ground was littered next to his waterlogged Reeboks, and his palm held the small silver item, his eyes brimmed with tears.

—3

The nightly phone calls soon turned to walks around the trailer park, Eddie listening intently as you strolled around the driveway, kicking up little clouds of dirt or catching the occasional rock with the toe of your sneaker.

He matched your steps, learning about your passions after graduation, how you favored sweets over salty treats, and the embarrassing truth of how after your friend Barb went missing, you didn’t have any friends at school.

“Well, now you have me,” he chirped earnestly, dark eyes squinting in the setting sun as he knocked his elbow with yours, a smirk on his lips, “I’ll take care of ya.”

It was as simple as that, and the easiness of it made your nose tingle with a burn as you fought back tears at his kindness.

Weeks of walking with you after school round and round Forest Hills— the scenery started to change.

The emerald grass faded into sharp tawny weeds. Foliage turned the color of autumn and the air began to crisp and chill.

It was then, on a windy Tuesday afternoon, that Eddie invited you into his home, he made sure to kick dirty laundry under his bed, hide the Playboys in the closet behind an old pair of shoes and empty the heaping ashtrays the night beforehand.

A jewel in a shit shack— you equally looked out of place and fit in with the cluttered belongings of his uncles at the same time.

“My castle.” he announced, bending low and holding the door open like a gentleman.

He showed you around the small square footage, taking less than fifteen seconds to point everything out.

“And that?”

“That’s.. my room.”

It was silly then, how nervous he was to let you into his space, even though during your walks you acquired everything there was to know about him.

—

Snow was on the ground when your after school routine of going to Eddie’s was as second nature to you as breathing.

You were sitting on his unmade bed atop the rumpled comforter and soft sheets, socked toes dangling from the side of the mattress. A textbook balanced in your lap, pencil between your teeth. Your eyebrows pinched in a studied strain as you tried to solve a calculus formula.

His voice had startled you, not sure when he had gotten up or how long he was standing at his desk, looking almost sick.

“Got something.. for you.. something dumb that I saw.”

He tried his damndest to be cavalier. But Eddie was everything but.

Ten dollars in quarters, more hours than he had spent in a pizza joint ever, and a hoard of tiny plastic containers from a machine holding costume jewelry, he had finally gotten what caught his eye.

A silver ring adorning a bat with an indigo colored stone in the center. It didn’t come close to the actual beauty you possessed but the blue stone reminded him of the way you moved through the crowd that day, like a rare gem.

Tired eyes focused on him, a nervous little twitch in his body didn’t go unnoticed as he fumbled with something behind his back, a wanton smile smirked on his lips.

You smile, adjusting the book from your lap and rubbing the pressure from your eyes, “a gift? Ed, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Didn’t have too,” he charmed, moving closer into your space, his jeans tickling the tips of your toes, “but… I wanted to.”

“Should I close my eyes?”

He chuckled, “sure sweetheart, hold out your hand,”

Your eyes shut tight, eyelashes squishing against your cheeks as you giggled, “why am I nervous?”

He stared at the rubber eraser shavings that clung to your bottom lip. The graphite on your fingers, a small hole in your jeans atop your knee, showing a smooth expanse of skin that he itched to touch. You had captivated him since the day you crossed his lazy stare in the lunchroom, and he thought of very little else.

He could still hear your squeals when you opened your eyes and saw the delicate ring in your palm. Still feel the way his heart raced when you jumped up and hugged his middle, squeezing him tight against you, the smell of your hair filling his nose with notes of strawberry, or was it peach?

He didn't realize he had the ring fisted in a vice grip until he felt blood in his palm, salty tears collecting in the thickness of his mustache, his lip quivering.

They’re wiped away in haste at the sound of a police cruiser. The familiar scent of thick gasoline exhaust and a camel cigarette follow with the squeak of his driver's door and release of weight on the suspension.

A towering frame crowds the sun from Eddie’s brow. A thick mustache sits square on an egg shaped skull, sunken cheeks replace a once plump face. But the drawl and cigarette smoke are welcoming just the same.

“Hey kid.”

—

Eddie was nervous.

The time you two had been spending together was making him feel giddy. You hadn’t kissed or so much as held hands yet but the air between you both had become filled with dense clouds of lust induced tension— it was hard for him to see straight.

He didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you only saw him as a friend, but tonight was the night the boundaries would cross, and he stood armed like a Paladin, ready to conquer his toughest quest yet, you.

Ice had built up on the broken concrete steps to Eddie’s trailer and your slick bottomed converse hit the glassy surface just right for you to slip backwards, falling into strong leather coated arms.

“We gotta stop falling into each other princess,” he chuckled, holding you tight with hands wrapped around your waist, “gettin’ too old for this nonsense.”

His scent invades you, encompassing you with hints of camels, a stick of big red gum, and starch powdered deodorant.

Your laugh bubbles out of your throat like a giggly champagne, “damn, you got me, totally do this on purpose, insurance claims. All the rage nowadays.”

He buffers for a bit as you tip forward on your feet and spin to face him, one step higher than he stands. “Only kidding,” you tease, grabbing his chin with icy fingers.

His doe eyes stare into yours, lost in the way you made his heart skip and his bones feel like jello, blood ablaze. He’s searching, searching your face for a giveaway— a sign.

And it happens like clockwork.

Your hands rest on either of his cheeks, thumb sweeping softly over the creamy silk of his skin, an audible sigh slides from his throat, followed by a giggle slipping from yours before your voice narrows to a whisper, “lighten up Munson.”

The salmon tone of his lips have gone more cherry colored in the cold, a little chapped from the frigid temps. Not the usually pinkish orangey hue they drew in warm light when he flustered over History notes and Chemistry study cards.

The apples of his cheeks were rosy like a cherub on a Valentine’s Day card, glittered with fancy text swirling of “Be Mine?”

Coal eyes shone with the bright overhead light from the trailer park. A deer caught in headlights.

Eddie was handsome in a way nobody in Hawkins was. A mane of curled brown locks, eyes to match. He was affectionate, easygoing, and you loved him the minute he crashed into you a few months ago.

Hands still on your waist he pulled you towards him, “Can’t,” he breathes, almost silently, a huff of air between you now, “not when I’m around you, never around you.”

Your fingers tangle together around his shoulders, braided in the hair at the nape of his neck, he shudders at the temperature change on his skin.

A quirk in your brow you tilt your head and wet your lips, “why’s that?”

He joins you on the crowded step, taller than you, peering into your face, heavy hands still on the waist, “for months, haven’t been able to think straight when you’re here,” his hands rub on your lower back making lazy circles under your coat with his blunt nails.

“Hmm..” you tease, twirling a curled lock of of the hair framing his face between your fingers, sultry eyes looking up at him in thick eyelashed innocence, “wonder why that is?”

The opening he was looking for, boundary lines down in overgrown grass as if he rolled a crit hit to whatever creature stood in his path was laid out for him.

His forehead comes to rest on yours, surprisingly warm in the cold, his nose like frost as it slid beside your own, bumping and sharing one breath.

“ ‘cause I’m crazy ‘bout you,” he finally admits, heart loosening, unrestricting, “and I can’t stop thinking what your lips would feel like with mine.”

He feels your smile on his mouth, the bated breath you’re holding teasing his tongue, “find out,” is all you can get mutter before his lips press gently to yours.

—

Hawkins was a few hours drive, longer yet after stopping at the nearest diner for a burger and fries. After staring at a menu for more than Hopper’s liking he ordered for himself and Eddie.

The coffee came in white ceramic mugs, the waitress setting them down in the designated spots that were already stained with rings of taupe, years of wear.

“Wayne’s all set up in a new trailer, living high off the hog or whatever he said during our weekly check-ins.”

Eddie ate in silence, chewing slowly, eating but not really tasting. What was freedom if you weren’t a part of it?

He’d be the first to admit that he talked to you when he was stressed. When he thought he couldn’t shut his eyes without seeing the horrific beings that crawled upside down from our world, he turned to your voice, feeling you wrap around him gave him a sense of hope.

“It’s not in Forest Hills, somewhere a little more private, government owned land.”

Eddie sipped at the bitter coffee, taking the burn in a big swig, letting it hurt. Nodding along as he watched his reflection in the dark cup.

—

Kissing you was like being able to breathe underwater, like the 1986 New Year’s fireworks over Lover’s Lake.

He kissed you at your door before school when he showed up every morning to drive you. He stole more kisses in his van, cursing the 8:15 bell, his hands on your waist pulling you further into him.

Standing by your locker, he kissed your cheeks as you dug for textbooks. He pressed his lips to your ear in the lunch line, making you squirm.

He kissed your shoulder when he sat behind you teaching you to play his guitar. Pressing the delicate pads of your fingers into the strings to play each chord with ease.

He’d groan into your neck, while pressing you into the couch, nipping your skin until his lips were raw.

“Where have you been my whole life?”

Your fingers are entwined in his hair, pulling his weight further into you, your legs wrap around his waist, “led astray, lost, so lost.”

He leans up, dark curtains of hair dangling into your face from your position on the saggy couch in the Munson living room.

He smiles a toothy grin, dimples breaching, “good thing I found you then, baby,” he sweeps a rogue eyelash from your cheek, “can’t escape me now.”

“wouldn’t want to even if I were dead.”

—

“Nope, hasn’t said a word, how do you know he can even talk?”

Owen’s sighs on the other end of the receiver, “he’s tough, but he’s been through a lot, needs time to recover, find out who he is again.”

Hopper takes a long drag of a cigarette, “yeah, don’t know about that one doc, he’s mute.”

Short trimmed nails scratch at a tuft of curly white hair, stationed somewhere in Nevada, “Alright, just get him home, I’ll call the uncle and let him know.”

—

Hugs lingered. Kisses deepened. Bodies pressed to one another in a staticky velcro of magnets, unable to peel apart.

Things were hot and heavy between you and Eddie. Smoky, tingly, a fog that had your blood pulsing places you didn’t know was even possible. You didn’t want to be apart, aching to explore every inch of him.

And he felt the same.

Together you set the plans into place.

He purchased the condoms, made sure his favorite mix of the slowest metal music he could find was ready to go. He washed his bed sheets and lit a dust covered candle.

You had done your own routine, showering and thoroughly scrubbing every surface of your skin, lathering a thick lotion on your body, and planting perfume in the direct places Cosmo described as, ‘irresistible’.

It wasn’t his first time. But it was yours.

Running his fingers through his bangs once more he took a last meticulous look around his room, crossing the trailer to answer the front door, where you had knocked quietly.

You were gorgeous, standing in a pair of light wash jeans and a buttoned red sherpa coat. A bag over your shoulder.

“There’s my girl,” he cooed, holding his arms wide and embracing you in his signature bone crushing hug. His lips found yours in a fevered second and he walked you backwards inside, flipping the deadbolt as he kicked the door behind him.

The duffle bag travels from your shoulder to his arm and he breaks away from your tempting lips. Holding your shoulder he pulls you into him, looking at you as he leads you to his room.

“Got everything you need? Toothbrush?”

You smile a little nervously, “check.”

“Okay, pajamas?” he inquires, “could wear mine if you wanted, you’d look pretty damn cute in my Garfield pants.”

“Packed and folded last night,” you say, tickling

his sides, “you were on the phone with me when I did it.”

He stops before crossing the threshold to his room, hands gently pressed to your cheeks, looking into your eyes in a serious manner.

“Are you sure? Like really sure?” his brows knit into concern, “I want you to be comfortable with this.. with me.”

You tug his shirt with a pinched grip, at his waist, staring back into his eyes, the truth on your tongue.

“I want you.”

—

Gravel spits up from the rubber tires as Hopper’s cruiser pulls off onto the secluded road. Eddie’s head hits the window hard with a thud, waking him from a dream.

“Home sweet home, kid.” Hop grunts, cranking the vehicle to a stop after traveling down a long twisting driveway thick with bordering trees and miles of woods on either side. A safe haven for a man deemed dead.

He could make out the taillights of his van, nestled in the tall grass beneath a willow tree, obscured from view. Wayne’s trusty Ford under the carport.

The overcast sky splayed a gray color against the new Munson home, and sitting on steps that weren’t broken, was Wayne.

The passenger door releases with a groan, and he inhales the fresh scent of dirt and summer grass. Finally, he feels like he can breathe.

Wayne’s familiar thin lipped grin is spread wide on his face, smoke lingering from a cigarette in an ashtray. His wet eyes gleam at the boy he once thought was dead, as he stands to greet his nephew.

“Hardly recognized ya with that short hair, Ed, and that beard?” he says rubbing a weathered hand through his own scruff, “givin’ me a run for my money son.”

He hadn’t seen his uncle since that friday morning in March. Unbeknownst to them both, in 15 short hours a cheerleader would die gruesomely in their living room, sprouting a world of chaos and demons, destruction, uncertainty and more carnage.

Hop had explained to Eddie that Wayne was compensated generously for his grief by the United States Government. He was told the ins and outs of what had happened and where Eddie was, and perched on land in a new house, he was told to wait.

—

Spring had sprung, the hard winter that seemed like it would never end was finally seeing its demise. March brought promises of new growth in the soil, and warmer days ahead.

It was a typical Friday, besides a morning pep rally for the laundry basket team after winning an important game the night before.

A pep rally you never attended.

Your back was pressed against the bathroom stall, skirt rucked up with the help of Eddie’s hand.

“We’re… gonna… get caught.” You rasped out between kisses.

His other hand was interlaced with yours high above your head, “probably,” he teased, tongue licking into your mouth, “it’s worth it though? Yeah?”

His hand travels further to the cotton waist of your panties, dragging them further and further down your thigh, his lips assaulting your neck, vibrating with your delicate moans.

“For you?” you question, hooking an arm around his shoulder, as your panties hit the ground, “always.”

He smiles into your lips as he pushes into your warm center, taking the breath from your lungs as you adjust to him, ass cheeks cold on the metal siding of the stall.

Your legs are wrapped into the crease where his elbow meets, his cock dragging in and out languidly, mouths hung open and tasting each other's ecstasy as your eyes drink one another up.

“Swear I’ve never, ever had someone like you, baby,” he gasped, bangs frizzing from being wet from a morning shower then covered in sweat.

Hips pistoning into you, he can feel your walls clench and tighten, your breath choked before you release, saying his name as if it’s the only word you can make out.

He cums hard. biting his lip and burying his face into your neck, “I love you, fuck I love you.”

It was the first time he had said it. He had known it for months, but today in the girls bathroom skipping a pep rally he could give a shit about, he figured it was the perfect place to say how he felt.

He’s still inside you when you say it back, spend leaking from you and onto the tiled floor. Your own eyes wet with the happiest of tears because no one has ever said that to you, not like this.

But this gorgeous man, in all his reputational flaws that didn’t mean shit, loved you. And you had never felt more emotion flooding through you all at once.

“I love you too, Eddie.”

—

Hopper didn’t stay for supper, patting his barely there belly and saying the missus was expecting him home tonight. He tipped a felt hat goodbye to Wayne and to Eddie, telling them to call if they needed anything.

He still hadn’t spoken, only nodded and waved curtly as the red tail lights danced down the tangled web of a driveway.

“Gonna make pork chops if you’re interested,” Wayne chirped, holding the door open for him as they climbed the same number of steps, “learned how to cook, can y’ believe that?”

He smiled softly, carrying his envelope of release papers and setting them on the table.

Everything from the old trailer was ruined. His guitar, all the band equipment he had stored in his room, the mattress that held more memories with you in them that he’d never get back— all gone, burned to a rancid fiery crisp when the fourth chime rang and Hawkins spread open like a festering wound.

The only thing he had of yours was the small bat ring with a sapphire stone.

Ten dollars in quarters at a shitty pizza place. He should have given you something real.

—

“.. yeah yeah and I was full of shit then,” Eddie grinned as Jeff and Gareth teased him about his graduation timeline. “This is my year, I can feel it.. ‘86 baby!”

He was always a flare for dramatics, dungeon master or not he amped it up for the freshman, acting like DnD was life or death, as if the cult of Vecna couldn’t be missed.

To be fair, he spent months on this campaign, late nights plotting and scrawling into a binder as you sat behind him, playing with his hair.

French braids then pippy styled pigtails, a cute bun on the top of his head with little hairs sweeping against his forehead and at the nape of his neck, perfect curls.

“Ten bucks says Wheeler cries when Vecna makes his return.”

“You think?”

“Definitely.”

Shoving Dustin and Mike with specific instructions to find a replacement player for Lucas, he sits down to his measly little lunch, leaning over to your space and whispering so only you can hear.

“After Hellfire tonight you wanna come over? Wayne bought a frozen pizza and I heard that Family Video finally got some good horror flicks in.”

Stealing a pretzel from his fingers you nod your head yes, “ I’ll get the movie, meet you at the trailer?”

The rest of the day dragged on. One boring class after another, students excited for the upcoming game, teachers unable to keep the roar of amped up Jocks under control, but alas the last bell finally rang. Releasing Hawkins High for Spring Break of ‘86.

Some kids went on vacation, others hunkered down with their friends. And some never made it back to school when classes resumed.

Walking down to his designated selling spot at the forgotten picnic table in the woods, he could have never imagined the trouble he’d be in just seven hours later.

—

Pork Chops seared in a pan with some butter and a chopped onion, Wayne had the news playing on the small tv in the kitchen, listening for the weather report.

The trailer was identical to the one lost to the rotting flesh of the Upside Down. Newer, and a damn sight cleaner, but the layout was exactly the same, except for an added bedroom with an attached bath on the opposite wall of the living room.

The filthy hat collection was replaced by odd cowboy decor and small wolf figurines. Eddie paced around the living room, touching the knick knacks that someone else had picked out not even questioning whether or not Wayne enjoyed this kind of stuff.

He had shown Eddie to his room, a navy blue carpet stretched across the floor, a queen sized bed against the back wall. New new new. Everything was foreign to him.

He would miss the heavy creak of a dresser drawer that didn’t shut properly, his closet door that fell off its track years before. Hell, he’d even miss the itch of the green wool blanket he kept on his bed in the winter months.

“Got your own bathroom too,” Wayne said cheerfully hovering in the doorway, hand rubbing the knob as he stared at the floor, “figured you’d wanna shower ‘fore supper, so I laid a towel out.”

Eddie turned his head nodding while he poked at the too soft blanket folded on his bed.

“It’s good to have you home, Eddie.” Wayne said, finally looking into his nephew’s eyes, “didn’t feel the same without you.”

Wayne wasn’t a coddler, he didn’t want Eddie to feel like he couldn’t be trusted, so he turned to leave, “shower’s got real good water pressure.” He takes a glance back at Eddie, and looks around the room before pulling the door shut behind him.

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, turning away at the last second, avoiding the piercing color of Wayne’s eyes before they could break him down.

—

Ten o’ clock on the dot your car crunched onto the dusty driveway of Forest Hills. Eddie’s van wasn’t parked out front yet, but thankfully the Munson trailer was never kept locked.

The trailer smelled of old smoke and musk from two hard working men. Even if the laundry was never caught up, and greasy wrappers from a quick bite of a burger littered the counter— Eddie’s home was comforting to you.

You didn’t have to fumble around for the light switches anymore, walking in the dark you knew where the table could connect with your hip if you weren’t careful.

Ten steps from the kitchen, down the hall was his bedroom door, five steps back led to the bathroom. He had cleared a drawer for you to keep your clothes in, socks, extra pajamas, some of his favorite pairs of your underwear lived in the top drawer on the right.

The mirror on his dresser held a collection of pictures of the two of you from the photo booth at Starcourt Mall, movie ticket stubs, and the mint condition guitar he kept sacred.

A yawn escapes your tired mouth the warmth of a shower calls to you.

Grabbing a towel from the cabinet, the water sputters under the shower head as it always did, and familiar music floods your ears from the thin walls outside.

—

His reflection is gaunt, different than the last time he looked at himself, the night he struck the mirror in disgust.

He’s too happy to rid himself of the swamp smelling clothes that itched and scraped his skin. The lick of a flame would do them justice, good riddance to the worst time of his life.

The shower is bigger, the head double the size of the one he grew used to. The spray of scalding water hits his head like magma. Burning his flesh, washing away months of isolation, stale air, and stiff clothing.

The water released muscles in his back that had grown crimped from the thin cot he curled himself on. His fingers ran through the shorter length of hair on his head, just above his eyebrows realizing it now was long enough to drip water into his eyes.

He didn’t check the labels before rubbing whatever soap or shampoo it was into his skin, but the slide of it onto his pale and gummy mauled scars felt like butter on toast.

Registering the faint scent of a stixky sweet fruit he couldn’t determine if it was strawberry or peach, but the concoction had him clutching his chest, unable to breathe.

It smelled like you.

You. His best friend.

You. His first girlfriend.

You. The only person he has ever loved— so intensely, it killed him.

You you you.

His gem. All sapphire blues with depths beyond comparison to anyone else who simply peaked on the surface.

Gone.

“Ready whenever you are!” Wayne knocked on the door, “pork chop ain’t no good cold.”

He wipes the tears from his eyes. Regulates his breathing with labored intakes. And finally admits the thing he couldn’t for the past six months.

“She’s gone.”

—

“Sorry for the mess, maid took the week off.”

“You live here alone?”

Murmured voices are muffled under the rush of water from the shower, “Eddie?..that you?”

Shuffled steps get closer and the bathroom door swings open, Eddie’s eyes are wide, wild with excitement as they roam over your form.

He licks his lips, stalking towards you in a lazy manner with dark hooded eyes, “prettiest girl in the whole world in my bathroom?” His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him, a breathtaking move leaving you giggly as his hand caresses your cheek, “hope you’re naked under these clothes.”

He presses his lips to yours in a chaste kiss, dipping you low and swinging you back up, he tastes like Mountain Dew and lingering hints of nicotine, spread with a wicked grin.

“I missed you, handsome,” you say, pressing your lips to his again, “so how was it? Did Mike cry when Vecna came back?”

Eddie barks out a laugh, rubbing his hands together, “think I might’ve seen a single tear fall, but they defeated him— crit hit by Sinclair’s sister.”

“Really? That’s.. impressive!”

“It was… shit, I’ve never been more proud of those little assholes.” His smile fades and you know he’ll miss being DM for them next year.

“Eddie?” A small voice asks from the living room.

Your brow quirks in question and he looks at you voice whispering low, “Chrissy Cunningham wants to buy ketamine.”

“What?!” you whisper back face struck in shock, “seriously?!”

Eddie nods, eyes wide in almost disbelief himself, “wanted a half ounce at first, but then said she needed something stronger.”

Your face pulls concern, honestly astonished that someone who seemed so prim and proper would want something like that. Eddie didn’t sell k normally you’ve been with him on multiple occasions and the only thing that was consistent with your peers of Hawkins High was weed.

“Do you even have it?”

“Dunno” he shrugs, lips in a frown, “told her I did because it’s an easy thirty bucks, but I could just crush up some tic-tacs… she wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Eddie? Did you find it?” Chrissy calls out in a nervous pitch.

“I can talk to her while you find something?”

“That’d be great,” he kissed you once more, lips buzzing, “two minutes!” He practically skips to his bedroom and shoots you a wink. Leaving you in a flight of butterflies lining your stomach. Helplessly in love.

—

Inhaling the hot cooked meal that didn’t taste like warmed up roadkill, Eddie sat in silence in a clean pair of clothes that weren’t his, listening to Wayne talk about what he’d been up to since they had last seen each other.

He burned with questions, needing, wanting, aching to know but the only thing he could blurt out came choked and almost suffocating on the use of his vocal cords.

“I need to see her.”

Wayne simply slurped his iced tea, setting the glass down heavy on the oak table, ice shifting. “Figured you would… want me to drive ya?”

Eddie swallows hard and shakes his head, “I need to go alone.”

With instructions from Wayne on the less traveled roads back to town, Eddie’s van sputtered to life in a cloud of backfiring smoke. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the passenger seat, he knew what would be there, and what wouldn’t.

Nothing was the same. Not anymore.

—

The boat floor was cramped, quite literally packed like sardines in a can, you were somehow lulled to sleep by the sway of Lover’s Lake waters and the even breathing of Eddie’s chest.

Your head tucked beneath his chin, he wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could without crushing your bones.

Rick’s offered little comfort for an empty stomach outside of a moldy fruit bowl, an expired beer and a singular can of spaghetti o’s. But you were both safe for now. And that’s what mattered.

The kids, Steve Harrington— of all people— and Robin promised food and any information they could find without seeming suspicious. He was gracious for their companionship, needing something to keep him busy while trying to hide his own slip to insanity from you.

Your tears were endless, soft and steady one minute and the next you were wrecked, in a choked fit clinging to him for dear life.

Eddie’s mind played on replay of your trembling screams when Chrissy’s bones snapped like twigs and her eyes vacuumed out of her skull. Vecna, a made up character that he had been obsessing over for the past couple months for DnD was real.

Killing teenagers for what? World domination? Eddie and yourself were the ones on the run, knowing all too well how a dead cheerleader in his trailer would look to any cop with half a brain.

He’d run forever if it meant not losing you and killing Vecna for good. Everything he had ever known, books of fantasy and creatures that he drew for campaigns, it was all real, and these kids have been fighting it for years now.

The sound of tires crunching on the driveway had his ears perked like a guard dog, followed by three slamming doors. Instructions were given, and he could only imagine that whoever it was was in Rick’s house and it was only a matter of time before they noticed the boat house just like Mayfield had.

The walkie talkie Dustin left was clutched in his hand, you were both fucked, and needed help— now.

—

The Roane Hill Cemetery was eerily foggy, dew coated the hot blades of grass from the sweltered heat. Wayne drew a map on what section you were in. Apparently the number of people lost in the “earthquake” were in the upper digits now, and they were running out of land to bury the deceased.

Those not recovered were given markers slotted into the ground with accompanied by silk ribbons to symbolize hope. They were nestled up under a thick tree line, complete with a wrought iron fence.

He bubbled out a laugh when he crossed by his own empty grave. The headstone was covered in graffiti of wishes to burn in hell. Typical. His death date marked as ‘March 27 1986’. But that wasn’t true.

Lots of people passed that day when hell itself opened a crimson quaking flood. but not him. Although he wished he had.

Pushing forward, he knew had to be close now. The air was thick in the foggy whiteness— blinding him. A high pitched croak screeched from the sky, and he stumbled backward, landing on his ass with a wet thud, a spattering of grass grown wild in tender dirt.

His chest cavity sunk in, gasping for breath but coming up empty. Each threatened choke chipped away at him as his fists tore at the soft ground.

His girl. His gem. Laid to rest.

—

The Winnebago rocked on uneven suspension as Steve winded down the Indiana highway back to Hawkins. It was eerily quiet. Even Robin was silent, planning her mission in her head? You couldn’t be sure.

Tightening the bandana around Eddie’s curls you ask him if it feels okay.

“Yeah, course.”

Days of running. Hours of growling stomachs, unable to keep down food— you prayed this plan of Nancy’s would work, that Max would be able to lure Vecna with her vulnerable mind, that Eddie could distract the bats long enough to have the others attack his paralysis ridden body—it had to work— right?

Eddie sits and pulls you onto his lap, adjusting the spear made by the same eleven year old girl who defeated his campaign a few nights before. Erica, you learned, was a warrior.

“Nervous?” you asked throwing an arm around his neck and whispering into his ear.

He shrugged nonchalantly, “little worried.”

You believed in the plan, in the younger kids, in Steve Nancy and Robin who had been fighting stuff like this from a different dimension for years. They were trustworthy and intelligent.

“It’s gonna work babe,” you encouraged, stroking his cheek, “we’ll clear your name, graduate, and then leave this hell hole, together.”

He looks at you with strained eyes, wetter than usual, “you and me?”

Staring back at him you press your lips to his in a gentle kiss, “forever.”

—

He laid there until the sky turned to ink. Speaking to you in his head, knowing in his deepest of hearts that you could hear him. Telling you how he had missed you, how your beautiful smile played like a film in his brain. How he loved you. and hours have told you sooner, more, every day.

He told you how he wished he was gone too. Would you like that? It could be so easy to do.

Tracing his fingers over the formal font of your engraved name. He smirked at the silly spelling of your middle name.

It was comforting.

Eddie hadn’t felt this sense of calm since the day you hadn’t come back to him in the mirror, and he thought whatever magic spell was broken until you reached for him one last time, promising to never leave.

But you did, and he was alone.

Standing upright, he let out a sleepy yawn, “can I come by tomorrow?” he asked, “would you be okay with that?” He smiled, and bent at the knee to press his lips into the stone above your name.

“Oh,” he remembered, fishing your ring from the breast pocket of his borrowed flannel shirt, “look what I found.”

He held it to your stone, “this belongs to you, baby, I want you to have it.”

Placing the small ring on the smooth base of your tombstone, he gets back up, knees clicking like he’s years older than he actually was.

“See you tomorrow, my sweet gem.”

—

The night air shifted on his drive home, blowing a chilling breeze from the north that whipped his hair around his ears. The van struggled on the drive home with each gust that blew against the metal frame.

“Think we’re in for a storm tonight.” Wayne said when Eddie breached the front steps, straightening his arm, “ol elbow’s actin’ up.”

“Kinda cold for September, right?”

“All of a sudden it dropped about thirty degrees, somethin’s a brewin’.”

Wayne had his truck keys wrapped around a finger, “I gotta go check on Miss Pam, her husband died in the uhh.. anyway, she’s not doing well and you remember how those damn lights always went out? I’ll be back after while.”

Eddie grew a smile, “should I wait up?”

Wayne stopped in his tracks, talking around a smirk hiding a laugh, “don’t get smart with me.”

They both share a glance and laugh softly, and Eddie still has a smile even after the rumble of Wayne’s pickup gets carried away in the wind.

He locked up, pulling the vinyl shades and unhooking the curtains, pitching the trailer into darkness right as the rain pelted the window panes.

Wayne must have made his bed when he was in the cemetery. A small radio was perched on a nightstand and after slipping into starched pajama pants, from the fancy dresser, Eddie fiddled with the knob until the faint guitar sounds filled the room.

Thunder grumbled in the distance, but what he heard next was repetitive, growing louder. Shit, maybe Wayne didn’t have a house key.

“Ya know,” he says, walking to through the kitchen to the front door, “you tel me not to wait up but then you bang on the door because you don’t have keys? C’mon!”

The door swings open with a final gust of wind. Mud sloshed on his feet, Rain splattered his face. But that was not a concern.

A beautiful face, covered in Earth. Eyes he hadn’t seen outside of a mirror in months. You wore the same thing he last saw you in, same tattered wear that his Hellfire shirt had, but it somehow looked soft.

“I promised you forever.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #ziggy writes #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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ihni · 2 months

Text

The sound of the doorbell is what wakes him. The morning sun is shining in through the window, hitting the messy curls on the pillow next to him and making them shine like gold. The sight makes him smile, and his first instinct is to reach over and brush the curls away from his boyfriend’s face. There’s nothing better than getting to watch him wake up, after all; watch those blue eyes flutter open and squint against the light.

The doorbell rings again before he can act on his urge, though. It is followed by loud knocking, which rouses the body next to Steve; unfortunately in a less peaceful way than Steve had imagined. Billy’s eyes shoot open and he tenses as he immediately takes in where he is, and with who. Wide, blue eyes meet Steve’s.

“Shit!” he says and is halfway out of bed before Steve can even react, pulling a shirt – Steve’s, not that it matters – over his head. “It’s Neil!”

Steve has just opened his mouth to protest, say that it’s not – it can’t be, Neil doesn’t know about them – when there’s a knock again, and an angry man’s voice drifts up from outside.

And it is indeed Neil’s voice.

Shit.

Steve jumps out of bed too and nabs for the other shirt that’s been discarded on the floor – but no, no, he can’t show up at the door wearing Billy’s shirt, he can’t, so he drops it again before hurrying to his closet. He pulls on an old T-shirt, and then whirls around and grabs Billy’s face between his hands. Billy’s face, which has gone ashen with fear.

“Stay here,” Steve says. “I’ll get rid of him. It’ll be okay.”

He turns and walks out of the room, squaring his shoulders as he goes. In his periphery, he sees Heather’s head peek out of the guest room that she and Robin stumbled into late last night while blushing and giggling, but he ignores her as he makes his way to the stairs.

The knocking and shouting continues, sending equal measures of anger and fear down Steve’s spine. How did the man know to come here? Billy said he’d told him that he was going to a party last night; said that he wasn’t even given a curfew. The man would have had no reason to suspect that the party was in fact a very private affair at Steve’s place, with just him and Billy and Robin and Heather – a safe place, as all of them knew about each other’s preferences by now – and definitely would have had no reason to show up on Steve’s doorstep this early in the morning. As far as Steve knows, Billy’s dad doesn’t even know Steve by name, and shouldn’t know where he lives.

He’s halfway down the stairs when a hand grasps his arm.

“Don’t,” Billy says, voice shaking. Steve turns – he’s standing a step below Billy, so he has to look up to face him – and sees that Billy’s shaking his head. “Don’t open the door.”

He’s scared, Steve realizes. Really scared.

From outside the door, they can now make out Neil’s angry words between the bouts of knocking. “I know he’s in there! Open the door. William!”

Billy is just standing there, still holding on to Steve’s arm. His eyes are big and pleading. He’s obviously terrified, and it feels so wrong. No one who has fought monsters with the same fervor as Billy should ever have to be scared of a mere human.

A calm settles over Steve, followed by resolve. He gently extricates himself from Billy’s grip – ignoring the way Billy trembles – and says, “Don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you again.”

He continues down the stairs, but Billy shoulders past him and blocks his way. Puts both hands on Steve’s chest and pushes. “I don’t care if he hurts me,” he hisses. “But he’s dangerous.” The man yells some threats from the other side of the door and knocks again. Rattles the door handle for emphasis, this time. Billy flinches and looks over his shoulder before continuing, “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“He’s not going to hurt me,” Steve says. He doesn’t know that for sure, but he can’t imagine it. This is his house, or, well, his parents’. Neil is the one who’s trespassing. And Steve knows the Chief of Police.

He walks past his boyfriend and crosses the hall. A hand lands on his shoulder again. Not forcing him to stop or trying to hold him back; just there. Imploring.

“Please,” Billy begs, and it pierces Steve’s heart like a knife because Billy doesn’t beg.

Billy, acting like this, is not right. The man on the other side of the door has brought Billy too much pain already. This has to end. And that end starts now. By getting rid of the immediate threat.

They’ll figure out the rest later.

Steve walks on. Stops in front of the door and only then realizes that Billy’s standing there with him, still with a hand on his shoulder. He’s watching Steve with big, wet eyes and shaking his head silently. Don’t do this, he doesn’t say out loud. Please, just ignore him.

But Steve can’t. Not this time. Not when the man is ranting on his doorstep on a Saturday morning, threatening to break in. Not when Billy’s standing here next to Steve, shaking with terror.

Billy is not getting hurt by that man in Steve’s house. If Neil tries to set one foot inside, Steve will kill him.

Steve reaches for the door, and with his other hand, he pushes Billy up against the wall just inside the door. Close enough to touch, but out of sight of his irate father. He can feel Billy’s heart beat frantically under his hand, and silently vows that this is the last time. This is the last time Billy is afraid.

He breathes in deeply and takes a second to slip into spoiled rich-boy mode. Then he opens the door.

“What?” he drawls, unimpressed. He gives the man outside a contemptuous look. The man draws himself up to say something, but Steve doesn’t let him speak. “Do you know what time it is? It’s Saturday, man. Some people are trying to sleep.”

Neil Hargrove is proper; not a hair out of place. It’s the first thing Steve thinks as he sees him up close – he has seen the man from a distance at times and listened in on the occasional phone call between him and Billy, but Billy has never let Steve even get close to the house on Cherry Lane when he knows that his dad is home.

The man is of average build and doesn’t look particularly dangerous from an outsider’s point of view, but there’s something cold in his eyes that sends shivers of fear down Steve’s spine when he’s pinned under Neil’s gaze. He doesn’t let his discomfort show, though; just lets the man take in Steve’s appearance fully – his messy hair, the way he’s just wearing a shirt and underwear, and how he’s obviously just got out of bed – and waits for him to speak.

“I know he’s here,” Neil growls – actually growls, like an animal. Steve sees movement out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t dare glance to where Billy’s huddling up against the wall. Instead he leans against the side of the door, placing himself more firmly between Billy and his dad.

He has seen the bruises on Billy’s skin and he has hated that he has to let Billy go back to that house time and again, but this is the first time he truly sees what Billy faces at home. He thinks, idly, that he won’t be able to let Billy go back there again.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, and tries to make it sound as if he thinks the man isn’t all there in the head. By the way Neil’s face turns darker, he succeeds.

“My son, William. I know he’s here.”

“William,” Steve deadpans, as if it’s a word he has never uttered before. He raises one eyebrow. “Look, there’s no William here, man. You’ve got the wrong address. Go yell at someone else’s door. Or don’t, I don’t care. Just go away.”

He starts to close the door, but Neil’s hand shoots out and stops him. He doesn’t move to go inside, but he’s holding the door without letting it close, and staring at Steve with narrowed eyes. A challenge. A threat.

“I’m not leaving without my son.”

So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?

Steve draws himself up and narrows his own eyes as he stares back. He manages to dial back on the disgust, but some of it must shine through because he can feel himself sneering. “Who are you again?” he asks. Flippantly.

“My name is Neil Hargrove,” Neil says, pronouncing every syllable with obvious annoyance. Good. “And my son, William –“

“You mean Billy?” Steve says, letting surprise color his voice. “You’re Billy’s dad?” He doesn’t let the man answer, instead he lets out an incredulous laugh. “You think Billy is here?”

“His car is parked down the road,” Neil seethes, and oh. “You’re on the basketball team with him. And I know what he’s like. He’s a dirty little faggot who –“

Steve lets his face shut down. Slips on the mask that he has seen on his parent’s faces on many occasions during boring parties and work functions. The ‘do you know who I am’ persona. His voice is ice cold when he speaks.

“I’m not sure what you are insinuating, Mr. Hargrove, but if I were you, I’d stop talking.” Something like uncertainty flickers in Neil’s eyes. Steve drinks it in. “I don’t know if you know my parents –“ He nods to the brass plaque next to the door with ‘Harrington’ etched into it “– but I’m sure they won’t be too impressed when they hear that some lunatic showed up at their door on a Saturday morning, accusing their only son of being …” He holds Neil’s eye. Can’t – won’t – say the word the man used, not with Billy behind the door. “… a deviant.”

Disgust is dripping from his voice – disgust over this sorry excuse for a human, disgust over the fact that he has to deal with this at all – but that lends him credibility in this particular instance. He sounds just like an offended rich boy. An offended rich boy with influence.

As if on cue – which it most likely is, since Steve suspects that the girls have been listening in for some time now – there are soft steps behind him on the stairs, and Robin’s voice drifts out from behind him, “Steve? What’s going on?”

He lets the door open just a little bit wider under the guise of turning around, allowing Neil Hargrove to see Robin. Robin, whose hair is also sleep-mussed, and who is wearing an oversized button-up shirt. It’s not Steve’s – she must have taken it from his dad’s closet – but Neil doesn’t know that. She paints a perfect picture of a confused girlfriend who just woke up to the sounds of yelling, and Steve is so grateful that he’s friends with her.

“Nothing, baby,” he says, softening his voice. “Go back to bed.”

Robin hesitates with one more look at Neil. Licks her lips, as if she’s worried. “Should I … call someone? The police, or …?”

Perfect. Thank you for the assist, Robin.

“No, there’s no need to bother Jim this early in the morning,” Steve says, making sure to use Hopper’s first name, and turns back to face Neil. Neil, whose face has paled. Who has possibly started to realize that he may have messed up. Steve gives him a stiff smile and lets his voice go cold again as he continues, “Mr. Hargrove here was just leaving. Isn’t that right, Mr. Hargrove?”

Too proud or too angry to say it out loud, the man just gives a jerky nod and steps back. Steve will take it, as long as he leaves.

Starting to close the door again, Steve sneaks one glance at Billy’s pale face an arms-length away, and adds, in a sudden bout of inspiration.

“Oh, and if you’re looking for Billy in Loch Nora –“ He gives Neil, who’s half-turned to leave, a slow once-over, showing just enough disdain to make it clear that someone like Neil Hargrove doesn’t belong in this part of town, “– then I suggest you try the Holloways next. I think I saw him with their daughter Heather at the party last night.” He gives a sardonic little smile at the way Neil Hargrove’s face shutters. Everyone’s heard of the Holloways, just as everyone’s heard of the Harringtons. “I’m sure Tom and Janet will appreciate being disturbed on a Saturday morning just as much as I have. Who knows, it might get you a mention in the Post.”

With that, he shuts the door in Neil Hargrove’s face and locks it, and turns to his wide-eyed boyfriend. Who hasn’t moved from his space behind the door.

He ignores both Robin running out into the kitchen on silent feet – probably to make sure that Neil Hargrove actually leaves – and Heather coming downstairs, in favor of putting his hands on the sides of Billy’s face and lean in so their foreheads are touching. Billy is shivering and his breaths are uneven, but he reaches up and grabs at Steve’s wrist and the back of his head with something akin to desperation.

“I can’t believe you,” he whispers. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you,” Steve says, and is rewarded with a shaky little laugh.

“Shit,” Billy breathes. “I was so scared, Steve. I thought he was gonna –”

“But he didn’t.”

They stand there for a little while, just looking at each other. Holding each other and breathing each other’s air. Gradually, Billy’s tremors subside. His heart rate slows.

Eventually, Robin comes back into the hall and announces, “He’s gone. Got in his car and left.” She adds, pointedly, “Didn’t look like he was heading for the Holloways’, either.”

Steve looks at her and then drifts his eyes over to Heather, who’s sitting on the second to last step on the stairs, looking at them with one eyebrow raised. He winces. “Yeah … uh, sorry about that, I guess. I should have asked first.”

“You should,” Heather agrees. “But you didn’t, which means that you owe me one.” She looks between Steve and Billy and says, “I would have agreed if you’d asked, but you know. You still owe me.”

Steve laughs. Heather turns to Billy and points one well-manicured finger at him. “So I guess we’re dating now, you and I. I hope you know that I expect to be wooed.”

After Billy gives her a little salute, she nods and turns to Robin. Smiles lewdly as she takes in her appearance in the oversized shirt. “You look good in that,” she says, biting her lip. “Let’s see what other fun clothes we can find in that closet.”

The girls disappear up the stairs, giggling. Steve has a suspicion that his parents’ closet are going to be in complete disarray soon, but can’t bring himself to care. It’s a small price to pay.

“Do you want to go back to bed, too?” Steve asks, and belatedly realizes what it sounds like. “To sleep some more, I mean!” he adds. Because a Neil Hargrove scare first thing in the morning is probably not exactly a turn-on. “Or do you want breakfast? I can make breakfast. We have –“

“I want to go back to bed,” Billy says, thankfully cutting off the rambling.

“Okay,” Steve says and reaches out for his hand. When Billy’s hand slots into his, is it perfectly steady. No more tremors. “Okay, let’s do that.”

But Billy shakes his head. “I don’t wanna sleep, though.”

“… no?”

Billy’s looking at him through his lashes – his ridiculously long lashes, which he knows is Steve’s Kryptonite – and gives a small smile.

“Not gonna lie, babe. That was a terrifying experience. But …” He takes a step closer, brushes the lightest of kisses against Steve’s lip before leaning in and whispering in his ear, “… the way you shut him down like that, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Then he abruptly turns and sashays away, but not before giving Steve’s butt a quick squeeze as he passes.

He stops at the bottom of the stairs with one hand on the bannister, and looks over his shoulder all seductively. “You coming?”

Oh, Steve is coming, all right.

He chases Billy up the stairs. (And this time, when he catches him, he’ll hold onto him and never let him go back to that house again.)

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #buckleway #heather holloway #robin buckley #stranger things #harringrove fic #ihni writes #got this scenario stuck in my head and had to write it down #wrote it over the course of a few hours #:)

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imtryingbuck · 7 months

Text

Divorce Came With A Price

~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: it’s been 6 months since he last saw you.

Word count: 1295

Warnings: Angst, I’m sorry. Death, cancer, suicide – please don’t read if the warnings upset you.

A/N: my mum cried when she read this.

Masterlist

Part 1

It’s been 6 months since Bucky last saw you, he’s hated it. He misses you. He misses your beautiful face, the way your smile makes his heart tingle. Misses the way your eyes shines brightly when you’re talking about your hobbies and interests. Misses the feel of your soft skin under his calloused hands. He just misses the love of his life, his other half - his sweet perfect wife.

He remembers how your smile dropped as he tells you he wanted a divorce. Remembers the heartbreakingly look in your eyes as he told he’d been having an affair. That one look has haunted his dreams, his every waking moment. He can still feel the acid in his throat as he wills himself to nod as you ask that one question. Nothing more nothing less. You just wanted that one question to be answered and he couldn’t even look at you let alone answer verbally. He didn’t even know you left the house until the divorce hearing; he watched you walk away with Matt and Foggy wishing he could say something but nothing comes out. He watched as your feet falter when you see Carly. He knows exactly what you’re thinking.

But It’s over now.

It’s over now and he can get you back.

It’s over now and he’s hoping and praying that you’ll understand and forgive him.

It’s over now and he’s going to move heaven and earth to have his love back in his arms.

He finds out you’ve been staying with Matt since he broke both of your hearts. How does he do this? How does he knock on the door hoping that neither one of you punches him in the face (not that he doesn’t deserve it) he just hopes you’ll listen to him.

Bucky walks into the florist to get the biggest bouquet of your favourite flowers he can get.

The skies start to turn dark even with the sun shining brightly, if he didn’t know any better he’d think it was forewarning for what’s to come.

Knocking on the wooden door it’s Matt that greats him. “What? What are you doing here” if Bucky wasn’t a super soldier he’d be scared with the tone in Matts voice.

“I-um I need to see Y-Y/N. Please”

“She’s not here. She’s not here anymore” Bucky can’t understand why Matt sounds broken.

“Well um where does she live now?” He’s trying not to stumble off his words.

“No James you don’t understand” Matt looks up towards the ceiling then continues but doesn’t get the chance.

“What do you mean I don’t understand? Matt look I know you hate me for what I did to Y/N but I had a reason, I just need to see her to explain it to her. Please Matt just tell me where she lives”. He begging and pleading and it’s clear as day in the way his voice wavers.

Matt speaks in a fast manner “Get inside before Ms Jenson comes out and complains”

The apartments a mess, there’s takeaway boxes laying around, the sinks full of pots and there’s trash overflowing in the bin. The apartment looks nothing like it did 8 months prior when Y/N and himself went round for a double date with Matt and some woman he can’t remember the name of. Matt sits down and lazily waves his arm round for Bucky to sit to.

“Matt wher-“ he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“James she’s gone, she’s dead.” The air is cut off. The room is spinning. His world has ended. He doesn’t know what to do or say so he stares blankly at Matt waiting for the punchline of a joke that isn’t even remotely funny. Matt understands he needs to say more so he does. “That day you told her you wanted a divorce to be with your side piece she’d been at the hospital for her results. It was cancer. Terminal. She’d been told she had about 6 months to a year left. Her insurance didn’t cover her medical expenses so she stopped treatment, I told her I would pay but you know what she’s like-was like. 3 weeks ago she made me go out on a date with Karen she said she’d be fine and made me promise I’d have a good time. I got home around 11 and went to bed. The next morning, I couldn’t hear her walking around, so I went into her room, she um she’d taken pills, enough to end her life. It was too late to do anything, they said she’d been gone for 18 hours. Id only been gone for an hour” tears stream down both of the men’s faces. Matt struggles to continues “she begged me not to say anything to you, she didn’t want to get in the way of your relationship. She thought if you knew you’d change your mind and not divorce her just because she was dying. Y/N begged me James so I couldn’t I couldn’t do that to her-“ Bucky cuts him off.

“I didn’t have an affair. I swear. Hydra was after me again and I had to divorce Y/N so she wouldn’t get hurt. I told her I had an affair so she would divorce me, I knew cheating was a deal breaker so I lied. I fucking lied and she’s dead. I lied and she’s not even going to know the truth.” He tries so hard to continue but can’t his airway is closing up. He passes out.

10 years have been and gone, the pain of losing the only person he has ever loved didn’t stop not that he wants it to. Bucky wants to remember the pain.

In the 10 years that have passed he’s visits your grave every Friday, wedding anniversary, the date you two got together, the date he proposed, your birthday and on Christmas. After the fifth year Steve told him he needed to move on, and well long story short they had a fight and Bucky cried saying he couldn’t move on. In the end everyone around him understood that he would never move on from the love of his life. He sits there no matter the weather and talks to you for hours. He told you Matt and Karen were having a baby girl, then told you they named her after you. Told you all about his cat Alpine. After every visit without fail or another thought he tells you he loves you and can’t wait to see you again.

It’s been 10 years 5 months 12 days since you passed away and Bucky’s on his way to see you.

He’s on a mission that’s gone horribly wrong he’s been shot too many times. He’s so tired and Steve’s trying to get him to stay awake but it’s no use.

“Stevie p-please stop. I w-wan-t to be w-ith my Y-Y/N I need to be with h-er” Even though Bucky gasps for breaths his voice is strong enough to let Steve and the team know that this is what he wants. Steve gives him a slow nod with tears sliding down his cheeks, he clasps hands with his best friend and keeps locked tight long after Bucky takes his last breath.

He leaves the world with a smile on his face.

You stand there waiting for him and as soon as you lock eyes with him you’re running. Jumping into his arms and before he can say anything you kiss him. Hard. After you separate you tell him you know the truth. You heard him every time he would visit your grave. You tell each other how much you love one another. You take his hand and lead him into your new life.

Tags: @learisa @bruher @pattiemac1 @kentokaze @almosttoopizza @yvessaintmuerte

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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fandomfucker · 6 months

Note

Poly TJD x reader angst/ fluff

Reader is sick but insists on her partners going to work. But while her partners are at work she tries to get up but passes out in the living room by the couch. Partners arrive home and find her still pressed out. Turns out to be severe flu

A/N I'm sick and miserable right now as well and I fully believe this one-shot cursed me. This is also exactly how I act but I was a good girl and I take liquid medicine😤

Word count: 2,725

Reader's POV

The sun was shining. The birds were chirping. Smiles graced the four beautiful faces of my partners around the breakfast table.

And I felt like dogshit.

My throat was on fire while my head pounded. My nose was so stuffed it was like trying to breathe through a brick wall and I was freezing to death.

My partners were up a bit earlier than usual because they had to go to work soon and I could hear them in the dining room downstairs. Tonight was Monday Night RAW and all four of them were required to be there for a surprise match involving Dominik and Finn.

Stumbling down the stairs into the kitchen, I tried not to trip over the king-sized comforter I had wrapped around myself and dragged off the bed.

Making a beeline for the medicine cabinet I kept my eyes on the floor in front of me, refusing to even accidentally make eye contact with any of my partners for fear of them hounding me with their overprotectiveness.

Rifling through the different bottles I kept a lookout for the cold medicine one. After searching for a few minutes I eventually gave up, accepting that we didn't have anymore, and just grabbed some ibuprofen instead.

I turned around to go grab a cup of water and screamed as I jumped, dropping the medicine bottle as I came face to face with my four partners.

"Holy shit! You guys scared me." I pouted, resting a hand over my chest to calm my racing heart as I bent over and rested the other hand on my knee.

"Whatcha doin', love?" Finn asked me bemused as the other three stood around him, all with a look of confusion, concern, or both on their faces.

"Nothing. I just have a bit of a headache and I'm really cold. Nothin' to worry about Loves." I gave them all a small smile as I leaned down to pick up the dropped bottle.

I winced in pain as all the blood rushed to my forehead, only increasing the force of my pounding headache.

"Let me get that, Babe." Rhea swooped in, pushing me to stand back up as she grabbed the medicine bottle for me. "Go lay down."

I shook my head slightly as she moved to grab me water to take my pills with as Dominik held my shoulders and guided me to the living room couch.

He gently pushed me to sit down before sitting next to me, rubbing my back to bring some warmth to my body.

Finn and Damian were not far behind and sat on the floor in front of me, each of them propped up on one of my thighs.

I glared up at Rhea as she came back with cold medicine, a bottle of water, some saltine crackers, a box of tissues, and a thermometer.

"You need to eat something before you take the medicine," She shoved the crackers in my hands before I could protest, taking the open seat on my other side as she brushed my hair out of my face. "Do you want me to make you any soup?"

"No, thank you. But don't you guys have to go to work?" I asked annoyed.

"Not if you're sick, mi amor." Damian soothed me as he rubbed my knee.

"I'm fine. If anything it's just a little cold." I reassured them, opening the crackers and beginning to munch on them.

"Yeah, well we'll see about that won't we?" Rhea announced as she got the thermometer ready to check my temperature.

"Stay still Babe." She ordered softly as she held the machine to my forehead, waiting for the beep that signaled it was done.

Having stopped mid-chew to fulfill her orders, I waited until the beep sounded and the item was removed from my face before continuing to eat my crackers.

Rhea frowned as she looked at the results.

"101.2. That's a minor fever, Hermosa." Damian informed the group, reading the thermometer over Rhea's shoulder from the floor still.

"It's literally fine." I rolled my eyes, right before I went into a small sneezing fit.

Dominik grabbed a couple of tissues from the box on my lap and hurriedly thrust them into my hands.

"Aw, fuck that hurt my throat." I groaned, throwing my head back against the couch as I wiped at my nose with the mountain of tissues.

"I'll call Paul, tell him we can't fight tonight," Finn announced as he stood up to go get his phone.

"No! No, no, no, no, no. Absolutely not. All four of you are going to go to Raw tonight and kick ass. Don't worry about me, I'm fine. I swear." I protested.

"You pinkie promise?" Dominik asked me, his puppy eyes were fully showcased as he held up his finger for me to interlock with my own.

"Pinkie promise." I smiled, wrapping my pinkie around his before bringing our hands to my lips to seal the promise with a kiss.

I looked to Finn to make sure he wouldn't go and call their boss and say they couldn't come.

His eyes darted to Rhea, ever the leader of the group, and nodded before sitting back down.

"We better start getting our stuff ready to leave then, chicos," Damian spoke, standing up and kissing my forehead before making his way to the bedroom we all shared.

The other three followed in his footsteps, kissing my forehead and then going to the bedroom. Rhea being the only one who lingered.

"Hey," I took her hand in mine, bringing her even closer to me. "I feel a little under the weather, but I promise I'll still be in one piece by the time you all get back. I'll take some medicine and a nap and be good as new in no time."

She bit her lip, still hesitant to leave me alone. She eventually gave in and nodded, giving me a long lingering kiss on the forehead before following the boys to the bedroom.

I reached a hand away from the blanket cocoon I'd stuck myself in to grab the remote from the coffee table and turned the TV on, beginning to channel surf.

About ten minutes later all four of my partners walked out of the bedroom, bags in tow.

"We have to get going now if we're gonna make it in time to get ready before the show, muñeca," Damian informed me, gingerly sitting beside me to stroke my hair.

I nodded my understanding, still eating the crackers like Rhea told me to as I paid most of my attention to Child's Play on the screen in front of me.

"Y/n?" Finn tried to get my attention, deciding to just grab my face and turn it towards him after I only made a noise of acknowledgment at him.

He then grabbed my hand and dropped two rather large-looking pills into it. "Take these, please. They'll make you feel better, and then you can take two more in another four hours, okay?"

I nodded my head, gulping at the sheer size of the medication. I was not a huge pill person and my partners knew that.

Damian kissed my right temple and Finn my left as they said their goodbyes for the night, getting up to make room for the other two to say their own goodbyes.

Dom placed his hands on my cheeks, kissing my forehead and whispering a small prayer in Spanish against my skin before making room for Rhea.

She sat down next to me and put a hand on my thigh, telling the boys she'd meet them in the car.

I waved and blew a kiss to my boys as they walked out before focusing on Rhea's beautiful face.

"Be a good girl for Mami and take those pills, okay? I know they're really big but they'll make you feel better. We'll be back before you know it but if you need anything at all just call and we'll answer." She looked deep into my eyes, meaning every word as her thumb stroked my thigh.

"I will Mami," I answered.

She smiled and kissed me on the cheek before getting up and making her exit to the car. She blew me one of her signature kisses before closing the door behind her.

Looking back at the ginormous pills in my hand, I decided that I didn't really feel bad enough to take them. I'd be fine.

I spent the next few hours slowly finishing off my crackers throughout a horror movie marathon as I made my way through the box of tissues as well.

My headache had gotten worse, to the point that I was a little dizzy and disoriented. Deciding to take the much smaller ibuprofen pills, I unwrapped myself from my fluffy burrito of blankets and stood up.

I immediately swayed a bit but just chalked it up to the headache and gingerly made my way to the kitchen.

Pausing in the doorway of the kitchen I rested a hand on the wall to brace myself, tightly closing my eyes in an effort to rid the dizziness.

Opening my eyes, I continued to make my way back to the medicine cabinet, grabbed the ibuprofen, and then turned around to make my way back to the solace of my fuzzy cocoon.

A huge wave of dizziness came over me as I reached the corner of the couch. I stumbled, tripping over my own feet, and hit the floor, seeing spots right before seeing nothing.

3rd Person POV

The four members of the Judgment Day walked out of the arena, jovial after their win. Shoving into each other as they joked and laughed, they made their way to their truck.

"Stop!" Damian shouted joyfully as he laughed, shoving Dominik away from him before he could make another wild jab. "I'm gonna call Y/n and check-in, I'll be right there."

The other three voiced their acknowledgment as they continued making their way to the car while Damian stayed back and pulled out his phone, hitting the stared contact.

The line rang. And rang. And rang before eventually going to voicemail. Frowning, Damian hit the call button again which rang until going to voicemail again.

Hurriedly making his way to the truck, he hopped into the passenger side and turned to the rest of the group. "She's not answering."

The three other members looked at him with concern.

"Well, she's probably just asleep, right? I mean, she was pretty tired when we left and the medicine might've knocked her out. Not to mention it's pretty late." Dominik tried to reason, hoping to God that that was all it was.

"Yeah." Rhea agreed, "But let's just speed home anyways, right?" She nodded toward Finn who was in the driver's seat.

Finn nodded, shifting the car into drive and taking off, speeding home to their girl.

In the backseat of the truck, Rhea and Dom took turns trying to call Y/n again to no avail. Six missed calls later the group was now very worried. Typically, Y/n never had her ringer off and was generally a pretty light sleeper, so her being able to sleep through a total of eight full rings was alarming.

"Finn?" Rhea ventured, her voice beginning to shake slightly. "Drive faster."

~Time Skip~

Throwing open the car doors, all four Judgment Day members hopped out of the truck and ran to the front door. Finn quickly unlocked the door and they all battled to make it through the door first. Rhea being Rhea won and was already running to the living room where they'd left her earlier that day.

"Y/n?" Rhea called out, not seeing anything amiss at first glance. However, coming around the corner she noticed a pair of fuzzy sock-clad feet on the ground. Walking closer she saw the full form of their partner face down, unconscious.

"Y/n!" She ran over and fell to her knees beside Y/n, rolling her over and checking her pulse.

The boys immediately came running as they heard Rhea scream. Damian saw Rhea checking Y/n's pulse as she lay on the floor, along with the dropped bottle of ibuprofen, pills having spilled out all over the floor, and immediately thought the worst.

"Finn! Call an ambulance!"

~Time Skip~

Reader's POV

Somewhere far off I could hear the jumbled voices of my four partners hushedly arguing. I couldn't quite make out what they were arguing about but I could hear the clear upset in their voices.

I groggily opened my eyes, immediately closing them again as the harsh fluorescent lights around me hurt my eyes.

"Y/n?" I heard a voice speak from next to me. It was then I noticed that both of my hands were encased in two others.

I made a noise that vaguely sounded like 'ugh' before I opened my eyes again just a smidge. I felt one of four hands disappear from my touch and then the lights went out before I felt them come back again.

Opening my eyes a bit more I saw the beautiful faces of my four partners looking back at me. Rhea was on my right with Finn next to her, Damian and then Dom were on my left.

"Hey, sweetheart. How ya feelin'?" Rhea smiled softly at me, stroking my hair. I noticed her hand was shaking a bit so I squeezed the other hand that I was already holding.

"My head hurts and my nose is still pretty stuffy, but other than that, okay I guess." I smiled sleepily, pushing my head further into her hand like a cat so she wouldn't stop.

Damian's deep voice sounded next, switching my attention to the other side of the bed. "You had us pretty worried there, corazón."

I just frowned at him in confusion. "Why? What happened?"

It was then that I started to survey my surroundings beyond my partners and saw that I was lying in a hospital bed.

"You passed out, love." Finn supplied from further down the bed. I could hear the fear in his voice, the shakiness of it mixed with the pure relief made me want to cry.

Remembering why I had even passed out in the first place made me feel so incredibly guilty. If I had just taken the medicine like Mami told me to we wouldn't even be in this situation in the first place.

My lip started to quiver and I could feel the tears welling up behind my eyes.

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey, mi amor. We aren't mad, it's okay." Dominik immediately stood up and leaned towards me, trying to calm me down so that I wouldn't cry and make my sinuses worse.

I heaved a deep breath in, looking up at the ceiling to try and reduce the waterworks before they could actually overflow.

"I'm so-" I started to apologize to the four of them for scaring them so badly but was cut off by Rhea.

"No, baby. We're sorry. We all know that you don't like taking pills, especially ones as big as the ones we gave you. I should've just gone out and gotten you the liquid version so you would actually take it and-"

I cut Rhea off by placing a finger over her lips to silence her. Typically I would've just kissed her but I didn't want to get her sick.

"It's okay. They really weren't that big. I could've taken them, I just chose not to." I explained timidly.

"Well," Damian cleared his throat, gaining the room's attention. "The doctors said that you have a pretty bad case of the flu but so long as you take some Tamiflu for the next couple of days, have lots of rest and lots of liquids you'll be right as rain in no time."

"Yeah, doc said you can be out of here in a few hours." Dom continued.

I just nodded my head and smiled softly at my partners.

"Still, I'm sorry for scaring you guys." I apologized timidly, keeping my eyes on my fingers as I drew circles on whatever parts of my partners I could reach, not wanting to meet their eyes.

"Y/n, you're sick and honestly you probably would've passed out either way. So, believe us when we tell you that there's absolutely nothing to be sorry for." Finn explained to me earnestly.

"Ok," I agreed quietly. I didn't really feel like arguing with them, especially since he made a pretty good point.

"Go ahead and go back to sleep, babe. We'll get that discharge paperwork started and get you home in no time." Rhea told me. I decided to take her up on that since I was still so exhausted.

Closing my eyes, I murmured a small "I love you" to the group, hearing four voices echoing it back in response just before losing consciousness again. On purpose this time.

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #the judgement day #the judgement day x reader #tjd x reader #wwe raw #wwe #damian priest #damian priest x reader #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #finn balor x reader #finn balor #monday night raw #the judgment day #the judgment day x reader #the judgment day wwe

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naffeclipse · 10 months

Text

I don't know when I'll ever write this, but I've had this AU in the back of my mind ever since Bendy and the Dark Revival came out, and it's best to get it out of my head before it festers and rots.

More or less, it's BatDR and the DCA smashed into one. The premise is that you are an animator at Fazbear Studios and Sun and Moon are humans who go by Cyrus and Mani respectively, employed as voice actors. (First AU with human Sun and Moon whoo! don't get attached though) Vanessa is a janitor who is a bit odd, mostly keeping to herself though sometimes you feel like she's starting at your back when you're alone.

Cyrus and Mani perform as extras in the Fazbear cartoon, adding supporting voices for side characters and miscellaneous lines. Cyrus often supplies humorous, wacky, and surreal voices to his performances. Mani tends to get villainous or spooky characters with his deeper, raspier voice. They both enjoy what they do and love that they can work together as brothers.

You can't help but notice Cyrus and Mani. You admire their skill, their passion, and their smiles, and you sometimes even work up the courage to wave at Cyrus or Mani whenever one of the brothers happens to pass by your work desk.

They inspire you—not just with their work, but with their small acts of care. You find coffee on your desk when you return from a meeting with the other animators with a little smiling sun doodled on the cup. Sometimes, Cyrus asks you to join him on a walk since it's your lunch break and you could really use some sunshine and a chance to stretch your legs. When it gets far too late and you're burning the midnight oil, Mani is somehow always there, doing a funny voice to surprise you with a little reminder that it's past your bedtime. He leaves you little treats in blue wrappers, hidden in places on your desk, among your ink and papers.

It's not a surprise that you start drawing a character for them in your rare off hours when you still have the energy to hold a pencil. The Fazbear cartoon could add a new, permanent character. A robotic jester, lanky and tall, but with two forms for the day and night, funny and sweet and mischievous. Cyrus and Mani could both voice him!

That's silly, however. Fazbear Studios does not want your chaotic and half-brained scribbles nor do you dare show the brothers what they inspired—they might hate it. You keep your little jester character tucked away, along with a small doodle of a minor, nobody, gray character who may or may not be a tag along to the main act that is the jester. Your sketches and concept art are hidden away, far from where the light of day or the shine of night will ever see.

It goes missing one day. You're upset and asking everyone who went through your desk. No one confesses. Cyrus tells you that it'll be okay, he'll help you find it. Mani suggests that you keep locks on your drawers from now on.

It's never found, not that you wanted either of them to stumble upon it. Yet, they stay late with you after everyone has gone home, looking for your precious and secretive sketchbook through the many departments of the studio.

Somewhere along the way, Cyrus disappears, promising to return with your sketchbook. You lose Mani in the audio department before, oh, there's Vanessa. She tells you to come to the basement with her—she found your notebook. You're relieved but a little put off by Vanessa and reluctantly follow her down into the dark.

You don't find your sketchbook, but you do find Cyrus slumped against the wall, blood trickling down his temple, and a strange collection of shrines to one of the studio's cartoon characters.

Before you can rush to his side, pain explodes in your skull, cracking white across your vision. You fall to the ground, dazed, as Vanessa gives a cryptic promise to return with the last sacrifice. You manage to crawl across the floor in your pitiful state to reach Cyrus and attempt to revive him, but by then, Mani is walking in. His shock overtakes him but he dodges a swipe of Vanessa's wrench and starts struggling against her. You try desperately to drag Cyrus somewhere safe as he murmurs for you to get out of here, but in the middle of Vanessa's and Mani's fight, she flips a switch and ink begins filling the room.

The black flood sweeps Cyrus away from you. Pages spill out from the inside of Vanessa's vest, dozens of sketches of your jester character. You cry out. Mani looks to you. Vanessa at last shoves Mani into the surge of onyx liquid beside Cyrus, and you watch both of them go under together. You scream their names. She turns to you, grinning.

The last thing you remember is Vanessa shoving your head into the ink.

Then it's the only thing you remember. You're vaguely aware that your jet-black hands are strange and shiny, and that you don't know where you are in this sepia-colored studio, but you know something's not right. You're missing someone, and someone else. You're scared.

You wander around for a bit until you're attacked by monsters emerging from the ink, shrieking and wailing in gluey dark forms until a wonderful and terrifying automaton arrives. He destroys such a creature about to tear you apart. He stands so tall, detailed with sharp teeth and even sharper sun rays around his large, flat face, but you think you recognize those yellow eyes—a living cartoon.

He helps you calm down and asks for your name in a loud and funny voice that rings like a bell in your mind but you can't name the tune. You don't remember your name. He doesn't remember his either. He leads you away from the harsher spaces of the studio, somewhere 'safer'. You don't know if there is anything as safe, but you feel better with him.

You're startled when after a time, in the middle of talking to this sunshine character, he melts and morphs and bubbles until a crescent moon face emerges and a new grin. You panic before a darker, raspier voice, like a cartoon villain, tells you it's alright. He's here, too. He's not sure what's going on but he, and the other 'him', and you are gonna make it out of here, somehow.

You don't have hope anywhere else but in this unique robot jester, and he seems to want you to stay close to him. So it's you two, the last sane partnership in the crazed and dripping studios, fighting off ink creatures and surviving other bizarre characters. You learn how to wield a gent pipe and the jester is strong on his own, often able to tear things apart or toss monsters off of you before they can do worse. He has claws and teeth and he uses them well.

Vanny is a lady rabbit and a constant threat. She's smart and cunning, unlike the other mostly senseless attackers. She keeps tracking the two of you down and spouting off the religious rhetoric of Inktrap, promising that your sacrifices will be well worth the pain. You had to be introduced to the cycle. The ink has corrupted you perfectly. You are part of this place. You are never leaving and will give in to Inktrap.

You and he avoid Inktrap at all costs. You've only caught glimpses of the shadowy, pitch-black beast, but that's all you need to see as you both hide and hold your breaths until the danger just barely passes by.

You start to call the daytime jester Sun, and he seems to respond to it. The nighttime joker is Moon, and he neither hates nor loves it, but he answers when you call. He has a name for you, too, or rather names. Peach, bird, thrill, calico, and sweetheart. He gets creative and goofy. You think he's being mean sometimes but he tells you he's not, he means it, and you don't know how to take that before you two have to focus on escaping this part of the studio and getting into safer areas. You protect his back and he protects yours, and together, you make this living, unending nightmare bearable. Sharing bacon soup, falling asleep in Moon's lap, and patching up any drips in Sun's inky form becomes something like a life.

It just never stops, repeating over and over. The jester deserves better than this, whatever happened to him. You know you both do.

You become determined to learn how the cycle works and how to prevent it from going on. There's a funny feeling you have that, somehow, you're going to have to go through Vanny and the Inkdemon. One day, you will get the jester and yourself free.

You need to see his and your happy ending.

#sidenote: cyrus is pronounced cy-rus and mani is pronounced mah-ni not manny #also their last name is Sterle but i don't know if that would ever come up #sorry that's all i'm gonna put here as a sort of summary #there's a dramatic ending with the jester saving your life but it comes at a price of merging with inktrap #and that's when eclipse comes out to play #but despite looking as terrifying as he is now and fighting for control #he still loves you! (whoops he wasn't supposed to say that last part out loud)#The Jester and the Tagalong #bendy and the dark revival FNAF AU #this goes out to wynnibee for reminding me this was buried in my drafts!

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thisisourlovestory · 2 months

Text

It’s Nice to Have a Friend

part 2- the chronicles of a stargirl and her sun masterlist

Luke Castellan x reader

Summary- the first full day at camp where slight drama unfolds and you make a new friend

Word count- 5.4k

Notes- thank you @imaginingmoonlight again for the vibe (I don’t know what else to call it) and I’d also like to say that I was actually inspired to write this series by @tangledinlove because the killerverse is amazing and I love it so also thanks to her otherwise I wouldn’t have done this.

Taglist:

@abbersreads @tenshis-cake

“We've just got to find out what you're good at first.” Annabeth explained as you walked beside her. “It might be that you are just really bad at using weapons but don't feel bad. You barely nicked him and he was standing in the wrong place so it was technically his own fault.” You winced.

“I didn't mean to, I swear, it just kinda slipped out of my hand before I was ready.” Annabeth grinned.

“At least you know to never try to throw a javelin when we do sports unless you want to skewer someone.” You glared at her.

“I'm glad someone is enjoying my embarrassment. I could have killed him! And then what would happen? Besides, I don't think that helped my prospects of making any friends here other than you.” She waved a dismissive hand.

“You'll make friends. It's just that you're new and the circumstances were interesting to say the least. Also it is spring so there are way less people here than there will be in summer.” You sent her an unimpressed look.

“You can't talk. Everyone loves you. I'll bet even Mr D doesn't hate you as much as the rest of us.”

“That is a lie. Plenty of campers don't like me.”

“Oh really? Name one.” You crossed your arms over your chest as she struggled to answer. “Didn't think so.” You said smugly as she stuck her tongue out.

“We've got to get to the armoury. It's time to try out sword fighting.” You paled.

“Can we not skip it?”

“Not a chance.”

Annabeth rummaged through a pile of swords. Occasionally picking one up to show to you and immediately putting it back down at your face. You wandered around the armoury, glancing every once in a while at Annabeth to check she hadn't cut herself accidentally. Finally she emerged from the pile, holding a sword triumphantly above her head.

“This one is perfect.” She held it out and you gingerly took it. The bronze blade was sharp and shining, the smooth metal cold to the touch.

“I don't see why I can't just use my knife.” She sighed.

“Because it's not made of celestial bronze so it won't kill monsters. Now get out there, I'll be out in a moment to teach you some stuff.” You trudged out and took your place on the sawdust, swinging the sword from side to side, letting the tip brush the floor lightly. Annabeth followed out quickly and got into position.

“Just try and land a hit on me.” You gaped at her.

“You want me to try and hit you?” She shrugged.

“It's a good way to test if you have a natural ability for sword fighting” Without warning she swung her sword forward and you lifted your own to block the blow.

“Not bad.” She swung again and you stumbled back slightly to avoid the hit.

“So I just kinda,” You swept the sword in front of you and Annabeth jumped back to avoid it, “Actually I think that works.” Annabeth slashed her blade through the air and you ducked, sweeping your own out in a wide arc, hitting her ankles with the flat side of the blade. She hissed at the sting and narrowed her eyes as you rose up and smiled. She rained down a flurry of blows on you and you blocked each one as well as you could, ending up with a multitude of tiny nicks on your arms. You rolled onto the floor to dodge a particularly well aimed stab headed straight for your neck and twirled the sword in the air before thrusting it forward to just under her chin. Annabeth’s eyes widened in shock before a grin took over her face.

“Not bad, but-” She grabbed the hilt of your sword and twisted, forcing you to let go and allowing her to poke you lightly in the stomach. “I win.” She handed you back the sword and you stabbed it into the ground. “Rule number one is never let up your guard, always be expecting an attack. It’s what keeps you alive. But for your first time you did pretty good. Better than most, and with a little training you’ll be able to beat me.” You hummed.

“Maybe. But the sword feels…wrong in my hands. Like I shouldn’t be holding it.” Annabeth frowned.

“We do still need to try out some other weapons. You might like them more.” She turned and walked back to the armoury, gesturing for you to follow her. “You’re doing archery later but for now grab some knives or daggers and try to throw them at those targets over there.” You did as she instructed and gathered a collection of bronze knives, carrying them over to a bench and dumping them on it with a clatter. You squinted at a target, judging how far the distance was and picked up one of the knives.

“Wait for me before you throw them.” Annabeth started but you had already tossed it up into the air allowing it to spin and then caught it and threw it full speed across the room. In a blur it hit dead centre. Annabeth looked at you surprised. “I guess you can throw.” You were already throwing more knives at the other targets, each one making a dull thudding as they hit home in the bullseye. You huffed and pushed your hair out of your eyes as you finished, sweat dripping from your brow, eyes sparkling with exhilaration.

“That. Was. Amazing!.” You exclaimed and twirled on the spot. “Did you see that? It was so cool.” She nodded, calculating, but you didn't notice. Too caught up in your own achievement.

“Yeah those throws were scary accurate for a beginner.”

“I think we've found what I'm good at.” She laughed.

“Not so fast, you've still gotta try out archery. And Luke is helping with that. He couldn't help now cause he had to supervise the climbing wall. Make sure nobody gets burned alive that kind of stuff. But he's taking you for your first archery lesson later, responsibilities that come with being head counsellor of the Hermes cabin. That and none of the current Apollo kids stay year round yet.” She rambled and you watched with an amused smile. “Anyway we have to get going for lunch, since it's not summer and there's not so many people we don't have to sit at designated tables like usual, if we did most people would literally just be sitting by themselves and that's just sad.” Your stomach rumbled and you glared down at it before looking up at her sheepishly.

“I'm apparently incredibly hungry so please lead the way.” She rolled her eyes and discarded her sword in a pile, kicked open the door and began the fairly long walk to the mess hall. You both trudged past the cabins where all the other campers were also starting to walk to the mess hall. There weren't many at all, about twenty across all twelve cabins, chattering happily to one another as they walked in a clump. Everyone sat down on random benches, presumably with their friends, and piled the food that appeared on the tables onto their plates in mountains.

There was a varied selection of food, all stacked in heaps so they filled up all the available space, there was something for everyone. Breads, cheeses and cuts of meat spread out for a buffet style meal, pots of soup, bowls with all kinds of pasta, rice and meat coated in sticky sweet sauces. There were even baskets stacked with fresh fruit surrounded by tiny bite sized sweets covered in sugar. Annabeth grabbed some food for herself and picked up some meat from a pile that stained her fingers red.

“Try this it's good, It's beef marinated in some random sauce and then cooked on the barbecue. Nobody actually knows what's in the sauce but it's kinda spicy.” She paused thoughtfully. “And it has garlic in it. I think.” She licked her fingers, getting rid of the red stain as you followed her advice and plated some of the beef along with rice and a warm bread roll dripping with butter. Annabeth immediately made her way over to the fire and dropped some food into it, you snatched up a bunch of grapes and followed suit. As the grapes fell into the flames you shut your eyes and bent your neck slightly.

“Hi, it's me, again. I don't know who you are but could you maybe send a sign or something. It couldn't hurt. Could it?” You mumbled and straightened up as smoke rose into the air smelling like every kind of food you could ever imagine.

“I really can see why they like burnt food.” You stated as you sat down next to Annabeth at a table. “It smells annoyingly good.” You took a bite of food. “And that's delicious as well.” She smiled, taking a bite of her own food.

“Told you so.” You both ate in silence, too occupied with savouring every bite that you forgot to ask any questions. All too soon the lunch break was over and Annabeth was directing you to the archery field.

“So you basically just follow the path past the Big House and he said he'd be waiting for you there and if you got lost he'd go and find you.” She turned around as someone called her name and yelled back. “Give me a minute.” She looked back at you. “Have fun and I'll see you later at dinner.” She spun on her heel and ran off as you did the same and walked in the opposite direction.

You hummed quietly to yourself as you walked through the woods, the trees shading you from the sun. Dust from the path floated in the air as you kicked the stones from it and into the grass, other campers passed you once or twice, attempting to whisper to each other about you and failing as their voices rang out like foghorns through the otherwise silent trees. You passed the Big House and caught Chiron watching. You waved slightly and continued without waiting to see if he responded. After a few more minutes of walking you arrived at the archery field to see the targets lined up and a selection of bows laid on the grass ready for use. You looked around and saw nobody. Not a single soul in sight. He's probably just running late, you thought, Annabeth said he was head of the Hermes cabin though so he must be busy taking care of something. So you waited. You sat down on the damp floor and fiddled around, picking blades of grass and twisting them around your fingers as tightly as possible before they snapped, plucking daisies, weaving them into a crown and placing it on your head. You even resorted to picking up one of the bows, subsequently snapping the string across your hand and leaving a raised red line across the palm of it. Then you settled back down, made yourself comfortable and placed your chin in your hand. You hadn't meant to fall asleep but the night before had been almost sleepless, tossing and turning in an unfamiliar bed with unfamiliar people in some of the other bunks. So you somehow ended up drifting off with the warm heat of the sun on your back and a cool breeze blowing across your face.

You woke up just as suddenly as you had fallen asleep, an owl hooted softly and you realised it was growing dark. The sun almost completely set in the horizon, only a thin sliver of light peeking out from behind the trees. You got to your feet and began the march up to the cabins. It was most definitely too late for dinner but you remembered Annabeth mentioning there was a campfire tonight. You followed the smoke rising in the distance and the faint glow of the flames, tripping over the occasional dip in the ground and sliding over the grass. Shortly, you arrived at the campfire and Annabeth spotted you almost immediately, jumping to her feet and running over.

“Where were you?” She asked, an accusatory tone to her voice and a frown on her face. “I couldn't find you anywhere. And what is that in your hair?”

“I don't want to talk about it.” You mumbled, sitting down and reaching out for a stick; shoving a marshmallow onto it then holding it above the fire to toast.

“Did you suck at archery?” You laughed half heartedly at her question.

“I wouldn't know yet Annabeth.” She tilted her head and studied you puzzled before a look of understanding passed over her face.

“He didn't teach you any archery.”

“He didn't even bother to show up.” You corrected, pulling the marshmallow out of reach from the fire and blowing on it slightly as you grabbed two chocolate covered biscuits with the other hand and mashed the marshmallow between them. The chocolate melted, mixing with the gooey melted mess of marshmallow. You lifted it to your mouth and took a bite.

“And I don’t care at the moment. I just want to eat my smore. I forgot how good they were, do you want one?”

“No I already had some. I’ve been meaning to ask you, where did you get that hoodie from?”

“Oh it was waiting for me yesterday when I woke up. Probably just a spare one from lost and found since my clothes were ruined.”

“Right, lost and found.” Annabeth sat still for a second then grabbed your hand and dragged you around the campfire to the opposite side despite your protests.

“Why are you so freakishly strong?”

“I am not freakishly strong! And that hoodie, not from lost and found.” She stopped in her tracks as you looked at her confused.

“Huh.”

“Never mind, it’s just a hoodie. Now I have to have a little chat with Luke.” She continued to drag you until you both stood directly in front of him.

“Hey Annabeth.” Luke greeted her with a grin as he stopped talking to the people sitting around him. “What's up?”

“What's up?” She seethed. “What's up is I asked you to help earlier and you didn't want to so I pretty much begged until you said yes because I had something important on.” She took a deep breath and tears filled her eyes. “And then you didn't even do what you said you would.”

“Annabeth…”

“No don't,” She interrupted, “I don't know what exactly your problem is with Y/N since you seemed fine with her last night when she woke up but you're going to sort it out right now.” She punctuated her sentence by pushing you down next to him.

“Can we have a minute.” Luke said to the others and they all obliged, walking over to other people laughing and sneaking peeks back. “Annabeth, seriously why would you think I have a problem with Y/N?”

“You didn't want to help her, you made up fake excuses to get out of it and then you agreed but didn't follow through. So you have some kind of problem otherwise you wouldn't have done any of that.” She crossed her arms and you spoke up.

“Annabeth it's fine, really it's fine. I don't mind if Luke doesn't like me. It's not a big deal.”

“It's a big deal to me! I want you to be friends. And you'll be really good friends I swear. So can you sort out whatever is wrong and get along please. Ask each other some questions, get to know each other better. Say twenty each?” With that she ran back to the other side of the campfire to her siblings leaving you both staring after her in shock. After a moment Luke broke the silence.

“Where did you come here from?” You blinked and answered slowly.

“I lived in the UK until I was eight then moved to the USA because my parents got a job offer.” His eyes sharpened.

“Parents?”

“Yeah. I was adopted, I don't know who my real parents were. Suppose I might find out who one of them is someday though. How about you?”

“Grew up in Connecticut, ran away when I was nine.” You stared at him vaguely shocked. From everything you had heard from Annabeth, Luke was the golden boy and he had run away from home. It was hard to believe but the bitter look in his eyes quickly changed your mind.

“When you were nine. So you were homeless for how long?” He shrugged.

“Five years. But I'm here now, and I've got Annabeth and my half siblings.” You hummed and shuffled around on the log, crossing your legs and leaning forward on your hands facing him.

“How did you meet Annabeth?”

“Just before we arrived at camp, we were walking down an alley and she jumps out and almost knocks my head in with a hammer.” He laughed slightly. “We took her in and then we got here.” You tilted your head.

“We?” His expression changed immediately. “Don't want to talk about it. Got it.” He looked at you.

“Annabeth is my little sister. Not by blood but by choice. We’re family and it seems she wants you to be part of our family.”

“You are very close to each other having known each other for so little time.” He smiled slightly.

“I would say she’s easy to like but that’s not entirely true.”

“Yes she can be quite intense at times. And I’ve only known her a day, can’t imagine what she must be like once you’ve known her a bit longer than that.” You grinned at him and tilted your head. “Must be unbearable.”

“You get used to it. Annabeth is Annabeth, she’s smarter than everyone, always six steps ahead of everyone else, she’s an incredible fighter and along with that she’s stubborn as a mule. But I wouldn’t change anything about her because then she wouldn’t be Annabeth.” He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, holding his clasped hands in front of him.

“I am sorry I missed your archery lesson. I didn’t mean to I just got caught up practising.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Practising what?”

“Sword fighting. I’m supposed to be the best swordsman in three hundred years and I need to practise if I ever want to go on a quest.” You hummed noncommittally.

“I suppose that makes sense.”

You turned to look at the fire. The flames a bright yellow, dancing up into the sky, twisting and turning, bright against the darkness of the night. Your eyes followed the smoke, whispers of grey spiralling up, up, up into the atmosphere.

“I can give you the lesson now if you’d like.” Your eyes widened in surprise as you turned to face him.

“You would?”

“It’s the least I can do to make up for skipping out on you earlier.” He quickly stood up and held out his hand. “Coming?” You smiled brightly and grabbed his hand.

“Lead the way Castellan.”

“Remind me why we're in the armoury again.”

“You need a good bow before you can shoot right. So here we are.” He raised his hands and turned in a circle. “Take your pick.” You rummaged through the bows, picking one up occasionally to inspect it. There were so many different styles, some smaller, some larger, some metal, some wooden, some decorated and ornate; others as plain as could be. The difference between being inconspicuous and wanting to show off. You stepped over to a crate and pushed off the lid, letting it fall on the ground with a bang. You shuffled through the few bows stored in the crate, disgust filling your face at the ostentatious designs.

“Do people just use these to look cool?”

“Some of the Apollo kids definitely do. But they can shoot with any bow and make the shot so it doesn’t really matter to them.” He picked one up and held it out. “This one looks like it’d fit you.” You scrunched your nose.

“It’s too…much. Yeah, it’s too much.” You slid over to another rack and pulled some off.

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever find…” Your voice trailed off as you picked one up from the very back, pulling it out of the pile that it was buried under. The bow was a smooth crescent, dipping in the middle, covered with strips of leather, with slightly curved ends, pointed and dipped in silver. The wood was engraved with miniature flowers and vines, each petal painted delicately with faded colours of red, blue and purple, the vines thin lines of green weaving through them. Your fingers floated over them, tracing each petal's outline with a look of wonderment on your face.

“Well how about this one?” You snapped your head up quickly, holding the bow close to your body, Luke raised his eyebrows. “You good?” You cleared your throat.

“This one. This is the one.”

“Are you sure? This one,” He waved the one in his hand in the air,”Is particularly nice and actually new, made only a couple of days ago.” You regarded the one he was holding with disdain. It was plain, nothing that made it stand out. It could not have been more unlike the one you held tightly in one hand, fingers flexing around the leather grip.

“No. This is the one, it’s perfect.” He sighed.

“Alright then, I’m not going to argue with you. Follow me.” He walked outside with you behind and stood in front of a target, illuminated by the dim light from torches lit up around the edge of the field. He steadied an arrow. “You pull back, straighten your aim and release.” He let go and the arrow landed just outside the bullseye. “Your turn.” You fiddled with the bow, stroking the leather nervously and tapping the sharp silver capped ends. He smirked teasingly. “Come on then. Or are you scared you won’t be good enough at it.” You scoffed and stomped over to him, grabbing an arrow and nocking it, pulling the string taut to your cheek and narrowing your eyes at the target.

“First of all, you’ll never hit the target like that. Lift your elbow. And widen your stance.” You shuffled your feet. “No, not quite. May I?” You nodded. “You need to just,” He moved behind you and placed one hand on your waist, the other on your arm and kicked one of your feet to the side, “That’s better. Now,” He lifted your elbow up. “Fire.” He whispered in your ear, his warm breath grazing your skin. You sucked in a deep breath and let the arrow fly. You squeezed your eyes shut as it shot through the air and hit the target with a dull thud.

“Well look at that.” Luke murmured behind you.

“What is it Castellan?”

“Why don’t you open your eyes and see for yourself.” You hesitantly opened them and looked disbelievingly at the target, the arrow sitting in the middle of the bullseye. You took a double take, looking back at Luke and then back to the target.

“I did that? Me?” You whispered and Luke chucked quietly.

“Yeah you did but let’s try again. This time by yourself. Make sure it wasn’t just my expert skills that made you shoot like that on your first try.” He nodded to the target and you nocked another arrow, pulling back the string to your cheek with ease and letting it loose quickly, sending the arrow flying and splitting the wood of the previous one as it lodged just between the feathers.

“Not just your expert skills apparently.” His lips twitched upwards.

“Perhaps not, but I will need more proof.”

“Then I will give you some.” With that you fired a volley of arrows, each one landing so they formed a star when you finished. You stared proudly at your work. “How’s that for your proof?”

“That's pretty hard proof. You must be a natural at archery and my teachings clearly have nothing to do with it.”

“Your teachings have something to do with it. You got me that first shot. I’m just a quick learner, and lobbing things at targets is apparently my thing now.” You dropped the bow down carefully in the grass and turned around to look at him and added as an afterthought. “Except for spears. That did not go well.”

“I heard.” You winced and twiddled your thumbs.

“Yeah. Anyway thank you for this, you really didn’t have to.” He shrugged.

“Like I said, I wanted to make up for this afternoon and giving you a late lesson seemed the best way to do it.” You rolled your eyes at his words and threw yourself down on the ground, unbothered by the damp soil. Your hands rested on your stomach and the longer pieces of grass ticked your ears as you gazed up at the sky, the stars twinkled above, shining brightly like miniature diamonds. They decorated the night, small pockets of light in the deep blue sky, soon to give way to pure blackness but the stars would still be there.

You felt Luke lay down next to you and heard him ask you a question.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“What?” You asked back, turning to look at him.

“Your favourite colour. Annabeth said we should get to know each other so what’s your favourite colour?” You stared at him for a second and found nothing but truth in his eyes.

“I’m not sure,” You paused for a moment, “I like green a lot though. It’s pretty and there are so many different shades of it, some are more blue like the sea and others are more the colour of the trees. But you can find traces of green everywhere and I think that’s why I like it, it's not just some obscure colour that you can only find in clothes. It’s all around us, you’ve just got to look for it” You stopped, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, you weren’t really looking for that kind of long winded explanation were you.”

“No I don’t mind, it was interesting. Besides, I've heard longer explanations from Annabeth about why she had nutella on her toast in the morning rather than her usual jam.” You tipped your head to the side and laughed.

“And what was the reason for that exactly?”

“The first time she did it I believe she spouted some nonsense about it being high in fibre as well as having iron and calcium in it and also would give her more energy to deal with, as she put it, incompetent fools. However every other time she's done it she just gives me a look as if I'm completely stupid.” You muffled a snort at his indignant tone.

“She sounds like a middle aged woman called Susan or something. And for the record you are stupid.”

“I always thought she was more of a Theresa but each to their own and I’m not stupid at all thank you very much.” You snorted again and quickly covered it with a cough, composing yourself as he smiled smugly at the reaction he managed to pull out of you.

“So anyway, what’s your favourite colour?” You asked, shifting slightly to look at him better.

“Blue, a really clear bright blue, like the sky in summer, electric blue almost.” He answered decisively and you tapped your fingers together in thought.

“And how old are you?”

“Fifteen, you?”

“Fourteen. Why do you want to go on a quest so badly?”

“I need to prove that I'm a hero. And going on a quest is the only way I can do that.”

“Is it?” He faced you with a look of disbelief.

“Yes, if I go on a quest I'm a hero because I get glory from it, you don't get glory from sitting around at camp doing nothing. You have to fight for it so I need to go on a quest.”

“Right, sorry.” You murmured and looked back up at the sky, head resting on your crossed arms. “The stars are beautiful aren’t they.” You muttered. “I find it hard to believe they can only be found in such distant planes of the universe when we can see them right there in front of us.” You lifted a hand and traced a kind of w shape in the sky. “That’s Cassiopeia, the Queen, you probably already know this but she was the mother of Andromeda and was forced to sacrifice her to a sea monster due to her own pride when she boasted her beauty was greater than that of the sea nymphs.” You pointed to another cluster of stars. “And that’s Ursa Major,” You moved your finger again, “And that’s Virgo, the Maiden.”

“How do you know those constellations?” Luke asked quietly.

“My dad.” You smiled. “He taught me all the constellations and we would go stargazing together in the country whenever he had a free night. The first time he took me was when I was three and he said I asked for food every two minutes, after that he would always bring a picnic, sandwiches, carrot sticks, biscuits and little slices of cake with tea or hot chocolate in a thermos so I would never get hungry. And we would lie on a blanket and watch the stars, pointing out all the constellations we saw and naming whatever stars we could. On special occasions he would bring his telescope and let me use it so that I could see everything that was happening as closely as possible.”

“He sounds nice.”

“Yeah he is,” You whispered, “He really is.” You both went silent for a while, simply gazing up at the stars in peace and quiet, comfortable in each other's company.

After a while Luke stood up.

“We should get going, everyone will already be sleeping by now and we can tidy this all up first thing tomorrow.” You sat up and took his offered hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“Thanks.” You leant down to scoop up your new bow. “I can take this back can't I?”

“It's yours.” He answered simply as he started to walk to the cabins with you hurrying to walk next to him.

“Thanks again for, y’know.” He glanced down at you.

“You don't need to keep thanking me, it was my fault for not showing up earlier. I was just making good on my promise to Annabeth.”

“Yeah but still, I appreciate it. Other people wouldn't have done what you just did.” You reached the semicircle of cabins and took a step into the Hermes one before you realised Luke wasn't following. You turned your head back to look at him only to find him looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face?” You slapped your cheek lightly.

“No you just-” He stepped forwards and righted something on your head, brushing the hair back from your face in the process. “Your flowers were falling off stargirl.”

“Oh.” You breathed out, a hand rising to feel the flowers. “Thank you, I forgot I had them, I thought they would've fallen off earlier.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Stargirl?” He shrugged and offered a simple explanation before walking past you into the cabin.

“It suits you.” You smiled and made your way to your bed, quickly grabbing a top and pair of pyjama shorts before running to change into them behind the private screen set up in the corner of the cabin and then bouncing into bed. You lay there for a minute, staring up at the wooden ceiling, before you turned to face the empty bed next to you.

“Hey Castellan.” You whispered loudly and from the other side of the room he answered.

“What is it stargirl?”

“Are we friends now?”

“Nah, we're best friends stargirl, I don’t just teach anyone archery in the middle of the night. and don't think you can get out of this easily, best friends are for life.” You smiled into the darkness at the joking tone in his voice and answered with a hint of laughter.

“Wouldn't dream of it. I gotta say, it's nice to have a friend.” You hurriedly added, “Other than Annabeth and Maisie,” And turned over to the other side, “Goodnight Castellan.” You said and burrowed deep into the duvet. The last thing you heard was a soft laugh and Luke's voice saying.

“Goodnight stargirl, sleep well.”

Light pink sky up on the roof Sun sinks down, no curfew Twenty questions, we tell the truth You've been stressed out lately? Yeah me too

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #annabeth chase #taylor swift lyrics #pjo tv show #pjotv x reader #pjo x reader

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buckys-little-belle · 5 months

Text

Chapter One - The Blue Crayon

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SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

Warnings - Reader cries, first meeting jitters, brief talks of Bucky’s ‘old life’, mainly fluff

Word Count - 1,836

Note - Releasing this is really scary, and nerve wracking. I'm worried people will hate my new writing style, or won't enjoy the slight changes to the plot/pace/overall creation. Please know that this means a lot to me, and has really given me back a piece of me I thought I lost. Enjoy, and I hope you love this as much as I do <3

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★ Prologue ★

After years of feeling out of place no matter where he went, and feeling like he didn’t belong no matter what he did to fit in, Bucky took a trip to a Cafe he remembered from his old days in Brooklyn.

The interior looked the same as it had decades ago, the soft blue and green diner furniture was in pristine shape. The metal of the counter looked slightly more scratched and worn, but the whole place had the same feel it did when he first walked in years ago.

While most cafes offered the same types of coffee and treats, none of them were anything like Cafe BigNSmall. Instead of being on a busy street open to just anyone, it was hidden away from prying eyes on a calm street, and was catered towards Littles and Caregivers.

It was founded before Bucky was even born, a group of people looking for a place to meet up comfortably, but also create a safe space for other Littles and Caregivers that might also be in need of a community.

Bucky had stumbled his way into a conversation years ago about Littles and Caregivers, at first he didn’t understand what the conversation was about, but after asking a few questions and being given the address to the hardly known, yet also famous, cafe his whole idea around the topic changed. And after a few visits with his best friend by his side the two of them realised that the community they had accidentally found was one they fit perfectly into.

Bucky half expected the well hidden cafe to be gone, or at least moved to a different location after all these years, but as he walked along the familiar sidewalk and stopped in front of the building he used to visit weekly, a warm feeling spread along his chest. The feeling of finally finding someplace he knew, and some place that knew him, was the best feeling he had felt in a while.

Even the ding of the welcome bell was the same, the coffee just as good as he remembered it, and the crunch of the leather covered diner booth sounded just as he had remembered it.

The feeling of sitting at a table alone though was new, his days spent here were always spent with Steve and other people they had met along the way. But now he sat in his favourite booth with a bag full of activities, and a heart in need of a purpose. He realised that even though the building had stayed the same, he hadn’t.

Weeks went by as he watched groups of Littles and Caregivers sit around tables and talk, colour, and laugh. He understood why people avoided him, if they knew who he was they had reason to walk away, and even if they didn’t know him as ‘The Winter Soldier” he was still dressed head to toe in black, stood at times a foot above everyone else, and always had an easily read as angry expression plastered on his face.

It had been a month before anyone talked to him, and although he wished that he could have felt included sooner, he was happy that Y/n was the first person he met, even if it took weeks of waiting.

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The sun was shining brightly through the wall of windows, Bucky’s booth drowning in light, the small plant that sat with a basket full of sugar and cream was no doubt enjoying the nice weather.

Bucky’s coat sat next to him, his phone buzzing from time to time though he ignored it. Instead of calling Steve back, or making sure Sam didn’t need something he surveyed the room, making sure all exits were secure, and danger wasn’t present.

He, in a way, had given up the idea that he would meet a Little, or even a friend, but decided that in the absence of someone he would spend his time as - unwanted, and unneeded, as well as unofficial - security for those who spent their days here with friends.

As his eyes drifted to make sure his car parked on a side street was still in tack he heard a small shuffle next to him, then a small voice spoke. “Um, Mr?” He turned his head to see a girl with tear marks down her face staring at him. Her green shirt’s sleeves covered in wiped tears, her overalls slightly off her one shoulder.

Bucky just stared at her for a second, waiting for her to fizzle away and reveal herself as a dream, or run in fear when she saw his face, but she didn’t. “Hi.” He cleared his throat, trying his best to put on a neutral tone and facial expression. “What’s wrong?” He asked, shuffling in his seat slightly, his nerves evident.

“My, um.” Her left hand covered in her sleeve came back up to her face, rubbing her eye before she continued. “My crayon broke.” The girls lower lip wobbled now, bringing up what must have happened clearly causing her distress. “The nice cash lady said you, you migh’ have some crayons?” Her voiced lowered to a whisper now.

Bucky smiled, the warmth he felt when he first stepped inside a month ago finally coming back. His backpack was filled with Little friendly activities and supplies for this reason exactly. “I do.” He answered, unzipping his backpack and pulling out his carton of 96 crayons. “What colour do you need, Bub?” The nickname slipped out on accident, but the girl in front of him didn’t seem to notice, too awe struck by the box of crayons in front of him.

She sniffled before answering. “I need blue.” She said with a little more confidence. “Hold on.” She whispered, jogging back to what Bucky assumed was her table. “This one, please.” She pulled out two halves of a blue crayon from her box. Her crayon box was smaller than Bucky’s, only a handful of crayons inside, unlike his though her’s had a small sticker on it that read “Y/n.”

“Y/n?” He asked, the girl snapping her head to him, her eyes wide. Bucky tapped the sticker on her box, Y/n flipping it over and realising how he now knew her name. “There’s too many blue crayons in this box to know what one you want.” He said, hoping it didn’t come off mean or like he was showing off his ‘better’ supplies. “Why don’t you take the box back to your table and use any of the crayons I have for the day.” He offers, hoping that his generosity could help earn Y/n’s trust over time.

“Can I jus’ sit here?” Y/n asked, her hands fiddling with the box in her hands.

“You want to sit here?” Bucky parrots her words back to her, hardly believing that she would want to sit with him.

“Yeah, if that’s okay.” Her lower lip began to wobble again as she took a step back. “Unless, I’m sorry, I can go.” She said quickly, clearly taking Bucky’s surprise as anger.

“You can sit here.” Bucky’s words were also spoken quickly, worried if he didn’t say anything right away she would run from him. “No one’s wanted to sit with me yet, I’m just surprised.” Y/n nodded her head and put her small box down on the table before walking back to hers.

In a minute she had gathered all her things and made her way back to Bucky, her backpack now sitting on the other seat. “You sure that I can sit here?” Bucky noticed her slight change in speech, a clear sign of further regression.

“Yes, I’m sure.” He smiled, Y/n sitting down but still holding her colouring book to her chest, her back straight as a pin. “I’m glad you came over.” He says in hopes to reassure her he wants her here. “It’s nice to have a friend.” Y/n smiles at that, placing her book down, showing a half done colouring page.

“I agree, bein’ lonely is sad.” She frowns. “Do you wanna colour with me?” Her tone is hopeful, looking at Bucky with a smile.

“I’d love to.” He smiled back, pushing his coffee to the side and accepting the page Y/n tore out for him. The two of them colouring their respective pages in silence for an hour before Y/n sat up straight with the biggest smile Bucky had seen so far.

“Done!” She practically yelled. Bucky had been done for a while now, adding his own doodles around the actual lines of the drawing. “Look.” She slides the book towards him, a coloured picture of a princess and her wildlife friends surrounding her staring back up at him.

“This is really good, Bub.” Bucky coos, surprised at her ability to stay mainly in the lines of the original lines.

“You can keep it.” She quickly squiggles something on the bottom, Bucky assuming it’s her form of a signature.

“Thank y-” His words are cut off by the shrill of an alarm, Y/n digging her phone out of her backpack to turn it off, frowning as she places the phone on the table.

“I have to go home now.” She frowns as she starts to pack up her bag, pausing to turn to Bucky. “Will you, can you.” She stumbles over her words. “Are you coming here tomorrow?” She eventually asks, her eyes avoiding Bucky’s.

“Are you?” He counter asks.

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll be here tomorrow.” She smiles and finally looks at him.

Y/n spends a few more minutes packing up her things before she stands. “Thank you Mr.” She holds her hand out for a handshake, Bucky’s back straightening as he realises he’ll have to shake her hand with his left. Instead of doing so he grabs her left hand with his right and shakes that one, her giggles worth the awkward situation. “Bye Mr.” She says, turning to leave, but Bucky keeps a hold of her hand.

“Why don’t you keep these?” He says, pushing the box of crayons closer to her near the edge of the table.

“Borrow them?” She asks.

“No, I want you to keep them.” He nudges them her way a little more. “I think you’ll get much more use out of them than I ever would.” He smiles as he watches her’s grow bigger. Picking them up she does a little jump, her backpack jingling as she does.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She spins before whispering a ‘thank you’.

Before Bucky could say goodbye, or ask for her phone number, she had already walked out of the building, walking down the sidewalk looking at the box of crayons in awe. The broken blue crayon still sat on the table, he smiled, picking it up and placing it in his pocket. The small thing a reminder of the best day he’s had in a long time.

#buckys little belle #age regression fic #age regression #little!reader #bucky #bucky x little!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes age regression #bucky barnes x little!reader #little fic

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myanmy · 2 months

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Lack of Sleep

This one is made to leave you guys wanting more ;)

Summary: You can't sleep and consequently put yourself in danger.

Word count: 1531

Warnings: None

I have to thank everyone who read, liked and resposted my other one-shot. I was surprise by the amount of interactions and while it may not be a lot for other people, it is for me. Thank you so much.

Sleep has never been an easy task for you. Even before all this nightmare, the smallest of things managed to steal any chance of your brain shutting off for at least a few hours to give your body some rest. Now with the noises of those things hunting you and the fear of the smallest of noises, the chance of you getting actual sleep is the same chance you had winning the lottery and you never even bought those things, so to say that the chances were almost zero is an understatement.

The group had taken in you a few months ago. You had always been more of a reserved person, so you hadn’t particularly made any friends. No one bothered you and you bothered no one. You were called in almost every run, somewhere in your life you had learned to be very quick and silent and that was useful. In almost every of those runs you had the same people accompanying you, mainly Daryl, Gleen, Michonne and the leader Rick. You had taken a liking to all of them, each having something to add to the group and together you had managed to go on some of the most successful runs.

Today was one of the days you didn't manage to catch a blink of sleep and were called to go on a run. You splashed some water on your face, hoping to get rid of the tired look, but unfortunately it didn’t do much. You walk out of the prison, seeing some of your colleagues near the truck you're going on today. Glenn muttered a ‘good morning’ while Michonne gave you a simple nod. You were somewhat grateful for them not doing small talk, the lack of sleep and the warm sun shining light on your face doing nothing to better your mood. Not long after Daryl and Rick walk out, heading towards the truck and with that all of you get inside. Luckily you’re sitting on the window side, giving you something to lean your head on which you gladly do. You remembered how in the old times the sound of the engine and the gentle rocking of a car would get you to sleep within seconds and for a while you let yourself go back to those moments, where the most serious thing you had to worry about were your grades or what you would have to do in the future. You open your eyes a few seconds later, reminding yourself that’s unfortunately long gone and immediately the first thing you see is a walker stumbling through the street trying to get to the truck only to be left behind.

The run had gone surprisingly well, that is, for the others, for you it had been another story. You had separated to make the run faster, Daryl and Glenn had searched the front of the market where most things were and with least walkers while you, Michonne and Rick had searched the back where there were a few more walkers, but had valuable things. You had stumbled more than you would like to admit and nearly got bit a few times, with Rick's help you ended up only with a few scratches from the stumbles and not a single bite, you honestly had no idea how you had done it. Apparently all the nights not slept were catching up to you. Unbeknownst to you, Rick had noticed. On the drive back you weren’t able to handle the tiredness and fell asleep. Rick sat in the passenger seat and kept looking back at you, looking for any wounds or bites and just checking if you were still asleep. He thought about making an excuse to have to drive a little more, seeing that you had found solace in the car and he understood why, as his own son also got sleepy during rides, but he knew there wasn't any and could only hope you would be able to find sleep again back in the prison.

As soon as the car stopped your eyes shot open, seeing you were back inside the prison gates. As everyone got out you saw people coming to welcome the group, Maggie practically jumping on Glenn, Carol walking to Daryl and starting a conversation while Carl jumped and hugged his dad. You and Michonne had no one in particular to say hi to, so you both walked side by side inside the prison, separating when going to your cells. You enjoyed Michonne’s company, you two practically never talked and that’s why you liked her, you were able to enjoy silence with someone and while that may seem weird to other people, it wasn’t for the two of you.

After the small nap in the truck you thought sleep would find you and for once it almost did, that was until you heard a small noise of something dropping and your eyes flew open. You knew it was most definitely someone walking and lost their hold on their cup or something like that, but your brain had already awakened and it wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. You laid in your bed, looking up at the ceiling, no thoughts running through your head. Eventually you grew tired of waiting for something that you knew wasn’t going to arrive, so slowly you stood up, trying to make no noise. It’s not because you weren’t able to sleep that you had to take someone else’s sleep.

Just by walking outside into the fresh air made you feel a lot better, you looked up to the sky and were greeted by the moon standing proudly on the sky with stars surrounding it and you smiled. It was a tiny smile, but it was something.

“Pretty, righ’?” The thick southern voice speaks from behind you, startling you. “Sorry.” He says, stepping beside you.

“It’s fine.” You answer, feeling your heart slow down. Rick had this thing to him that made you feel safe, you couldn’t really explain it, but you felt it.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, his face turned to the sky.

“No, you?” You wonder, knowing Rick wasn’t on patrol tonight.

“Saw you leaving.” Your expression turns into a confusing one and he gets the hint and continues talking. “On the run today, you were acting weird. You got in danger way too many times, what’s going on?”

You sigh, not really wanting to talk about it, but he was the leader, he had brought you in and given you food and a roof. “I’ve been having a hard time sleeping, that’s all.”

He nods and hums in understatement. “You are safe here. Those things out there are scary, but if you’re going to fight them, you have to be strong to do it. You’re one of our best and you’re needed, so please, take care of yourself and rest.”

You let out a chuckle at that. “You have a better chance at knocking me out, that way you’ll be sure I'll get my share of sleep.” The man lets out a laugh, one that makes your stomach do funny things.

“What keeps you up?” He asks, trying to find some way to help you.

“The fear, the nightmare and mainly the noises. Every little snap gets my heart racing.” You confess, something that only Rick would manage to make you do.

He sighs, looking at the sky again, seeming to be thinking. “The cell next to mine is empty.” He mutters, in a tone of a simple observation. You start thinking about it and come to the conclusion that it may help you. Rick is the leader, he is intelligent, quick and strong, that much you knew. It definitely wouldn’t hurt having someone like that next to you, the only divider being a thin wall.

“Can I…” You hesitate, feeling silly, then his eyes leave the sky and meet yours. He had yet to figure you out, but he had come to learn a few things about you and one of them was that you did not like to appear small or fragile to people.

“Sure, it'll be easier for me to knock you out if you’re there.” He jokes and you can’t stop the laugh bubbling through you.

“Thank you Rick-” You mutter, your voice low. “-for everything.” You add, not looking him in the eyes.

“It’s no problem.” He says and puts his hand on your shoulder squeezing it, reassuring you. He follows you to your cell and helps you move the little things that belonged to you to the one next to his, your hands accidentally brushing against each other a few times and you try your hardest to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Good night…” He mutters your name with that thick accent of his, his voice low, trying not to disturb anyone.

“Good night Rick.” A small smile makes its way in Rick’s lips and you can’t help but return it. That night you fell asleep and had one of the best possible dreams ever, with Rick placing his hands not only on your shoulder but throughout your whole body and later cuddling you on his chest while you listened to his heartbeat.

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes #no use of y/n #rick grimes imagine #rick x reader #fluff #rick grimes fluff #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine

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starlessnightsblog · 3 months

Text

daryl x reader

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

MDNI 18+ | wordcount: 3k | smutt ⭑ fluff

daryl to the rescue

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Daryl decided we'd go out for a run. The prison could always use more supplies and he figured he could try to bring home dinner too.

I watched as he packed the trunk of the Prius with supplies we would need, n'case we would stay overnight. The sun was shining, it was a pretty day, the grass still glistening from the morning fog. It had rained on and off here at the prison these last few days. Daryl was eager to get back out there, I knew he liked providing for the group and he liked when I could tag along, he'd grown to not like being apart from each other for long.

I walked up to him, placing my hands on my hips as I watched him slam the trunk door down, "We all set?" I smiled up at him.

He grabbed his bow that was leaning against the car and swung it over his shoulder, "Yes ma'am," He squinted his eyes as the sun beamed in his face. With a raspy voice, "you driving?"

He tossed me the keys before I could answer, I caught them, and rolled my eyes playfully, "This time, but you're driving us home." He hummed paired with a nod.

Daryl opened the driver's side for me, and I looked up at him, my eyes asking him to kiss me. He caught on and leaned down to meet my lips, but in that moment, I saw Carol walking up to us and pulled away. Daryl noticed my gaze shift and he turned around to meet her. She hugged Daryl briefly and then me. "You two be safe, ...and behave." Her tone was stern yet hinted with sarcasm. Daryl let his head fall and his hair cover his face, trying not to smirk too much.

"We behave?" I questioned, pretending to be offended by her statement; though Carol never meant any harm.

Daryl walked to the passenger side and sunk in. "See you soon.' He reassured Carol and she nodded. I closed my door and started the car and waited for Carol and Carl to open the gate, they waved us off. I watched them grow tiny in the rear view.

Me and Daryl parked the car on the side of the road a few miles out from the prison, we ended up in the woods before midday. Stumbling through the forest on foot, I treaded right behind Daryl, as we stayed silent amidst the trees, getting a feel of the surrounding area, not wanting to draw unwanted attention to ourselves. I watched as he led the way, looking at sticks and piles of brushed up leaves, observing them. I watched his back as he was distracted by the prints in front of him, we hadn't encountered any walkers yet and I really didn't want too. My aim was still off sometimes, walkers made me freeze up. I hated having to encounter them, at all.

"We need to find an abandoned cabin or somethin'." He mumbled. "I think I remember seeing one out this way." He pointed and began walking adjacent to the direction we were going in, I just went along with it, trusting his every intention. "Okay."

"Least somewhere we can hold up for a night." He looked back at me, his eyes met mine.

oh, I thought. He side smirked and raised a brow. chewing his bottom lip, "Let's keep moving." He hummed and I nodded.

The day was growing dark and grey clouds had infused the sky; the wind picking up in waves. The ambiance of crickets and cicadas filled the swampy air. My feet would've been killing me if I wasn't already use to it, walking, running all day.

Daryl had managed to snag a few rabbits and now we were looking for somewhere we could build a fire. Though I think he was growing weary of the weather just as I was, and we were having zero luck with finding the cabin.

Instead, we happened apon a little homemade, car, junk yard. Though the cars were either stripped of everything that made them useful or already pieces of scrap metal, maybe even from before the world went to shit. Still, it looked untouched enough. There was a chained-up storage container sitting on the far side of the yard, almost blocked by two cars mangled on top of each other. I pointed it out to Daryl. "That might be good place to sleep tonight." I whispered.

"It'll have to be," He looked up at the ever-darkening sky, "come on." he ushered me, his hand hovering the small of my back.

We approached the fenced-in plot, finding a good spot spot to sneak in through. Daryl made a hole in the fence with his bolt cutters. He pulled the chain link down as quietly as he could, though it still made noise.

With caution, we began inspecting the yard. staying close to one another. After assuming it was fine, Daryl began opening a few of the hoods of the cars, inspecting the engines for anything useful. I held my knife out in front me, in case I needed it as I kept walking ahead, wanting to get to the storage building.

I wandered up to what seemed like an untouched mini-van. It had no tires, from what I could see, but all the windows were intact, looked promising. I tried peeking through the caked-on dust and dirt, maybe even guts or blood, I failed to make anything out, so I tried wiping the window with my fist. I wiggled the handle, it was locked, weird. I yanked the handle one more time, and then CLAP.

A pale, skinny hand from inside the car hit the window hard, I flinched, it scratched and bit at the glass so hard it was making its fingertips bleed. It was loud now, and I jumped back, wanting to evacuate the scene and maybe it'd magically shut up? I took a step back into the grasp of a walker suddenly appearing from under the same mini-van, I lost my balance, and stumbled back, hitting the ground fast and hard.

I slammed my foot against the rotter over and over, but was failing to do any real damage, I heard groans coming from behind me. I glanced back quickly. Another walker was crawling out the thick grass, it appeared to have no legs and half an arm, t was close but struggling at the very least, tangling itself in the weeds. My focus shot back to the walker beneath me, it was chomping and hadn't even reached my foot yet. I began to frantically search the ground for my knife, I must've dropped it when I fell. I cursed, wanting this to end but not knowing how.

Another wandering walker's attention snapped to me and this one wasn't stuck; it started limping quickly, it's one good arm shooting out, preparing to grab me at first chance. My heart was racing faster than ever, I pleaded with myself to do something, to move. I screamed as the walker beneath me bit at my shoe, I kicked it off before it could bite through, I scrambled away in the dirt, the moans and groans from the biters around me filled my ears and all I could think of was Daryl and how I couldn't leave him, not like this.

I closed my eyes, shielding myself as the walker that was stumbling towards me got hauntingly closer. Then, in an instant the air was silenced. I watched the walker collapse on the group in front of me, A bloody arrow had pierced straight through its skull. Then another arrow went straight through the eye socket of the walker holding onto my foot. Blood leaked from both the heads in front of me, though the weak walker behind me was still struggling, but still too close for comfort. I stared at the vicious corpse, still in shock from the last few minutes.

I didn't see Daryl till he was on top the corpse in front of me, he shoved his knife down and through the walker's brain, and stabbed again and again till the head was blood and mush. Dark blood splashed his face as he did so.

I took a deep breath in, and Daryl's full attention locked on me, he snapped out of it and rushed to kneel beside me, pulling me up gently. "You okay? You're okay right? They didn't-," His breath trembled, and he looked scared; he scanned my face up and down.

My eyes locked to his as they trained my face. "I'm okay, I'm good," my words wearier than my breathing, my body slightly shaking in the rush of it all, "they didn't- I'm okay." Tears formed in my eyes. I cupped the side of his face with my hand as I shook my head in reassurance. "I'm okay." He touched his forehead to mine and then wrapped his arm around my whole body, holding me tight. We lingered in the embrace, I wanted him to never let me go, and then it began to thunder. Daryl broke away first and looked around. "Let's get inside."

We hadn't even scoped out the container due to my little damsel in distress moment. but it didn't matter anymore, we were sleeping in that thing no matter what.

Rain began to poor, the dirt on our skin rinsing off, our hair dripping onto our faces; we hurried over to the storage container. Daryl puller out his bolt cutters swiftly and broke through the chains with ease, that, or he just made it look easy. He slid the door open slowly and it was dark inside but not so much so we couldn't see in it. I stepped forward but his arm shot in front of me, holding me back. He looked me up and down, "Uhh uh, No way." He murmured.

I didn't say anything. He grabbed a flashlight out his bag and stepped inside. It beamed through the shadows. He peaked around and made sure no dead would pop out the corners. He signaled for me that it was safe, and I stepped inside. He came to close the door behind me, shoving a metal rod through the handles.

I think it was safe to say we hit the jackpot. The container had shelves on either side, it was partially stocked with a decent amount of can goods, we found a first aid kit, and even a few boxes of ammo. I noticed some cardboard boxes that looked straight out of somebody's Saturday morning garage sale.

They were filled with ghosts of the past. I found someone's family photos, baby clothes and even toys. I stuffed my bag with anything I could fit in it. Some of these things would be useful to Judith and this helped me feel useful.

The place had a box full of beeswax candles, the kind you use when the power goes out. Daryl had a lighter handy, so we lit some and put them on the shelves to lighten the place up so we wouldn't trip on ourselves.

I then lay out us out a cot with a double sleeping bag, I tossed my favorite blanket I tote with me on every run as a finishing touch. It looked good enough. Daryl had opened a few of the cans and that's what we ate for dinner. No fire for the rabbits, what a bummer. (I was not bummed.)

We ate quietly. The groans coming from outside disappeared, though the rain only got harder and maybe that's why. We were closed in, nothing was getting in.

We huddled around our one lantern, and each ate a can of green peas. I finished the can and set it on the shelve just above my head. I looked over at Daryl who was also finishing up. He set his can down, away from the sleeping bed.

"Thank you, for earlier," I whispered, "I dunno why, I just froze." I started, wanting to make an excuse for my helplessness. "I shouldn't of-"

"Don't do that." He cut me off, shaking his head. "Nothing happened, and you're okay."

"I put us in danger." I retorted. I never wanted to put Daryl in danger, and he was so much better at the whole apocalypse thing than me.

"Hey, hey, look at me," He hummed, his tone smooth. I met his longing gaze. "we're in danger just by being out here, so it doesn't matter." He took my hand in his, our fingers intertwined. "I would never let anythin' happen to you... no matter what. It's you over everything, over everyone. You know that, right?" The look on his face was coated with sincerity, the flickering lights from the candles bounced on his skin. He was emulating complete and utter warmth.

If it wasn't for Daryl today, I might've ended up walker food. I replayed the moment in my head, the guilt still eating at me, "I never want anything to happen to you." I managed to choke out. I rested my forehead on his shoulder. he took me into his embrace, I squeezed him, and he squeezed back, tighter.

I thought about the man beside me, how he defended me and loved me. He'd take a bullet for me, and we both knew that. But did he know I would do the same for him though?

"I'm not going anywhere." He whispered. I glanced back up at him and pulled his face down to kiss me, brushing my lips to his, he placed his hand on my hip. I broke away for a moment, our eyes pulled together. Wanting to top that, but he crashed his lips to mine.

My hands snaked around his neck, and as our kiss grew more heated, he pulled me on top of him. His hands roamed my body, trying to make skin to skin contact. I ripped my jacket off, not even daring to break the kiss, my hands found their way back around his neck. He tried pulling me closer, grinding my hips below his torso. I ripped right through his vest, leaving him exposed. He smirked, trying to catch his breath, he pulled at my shirt, wanting it gone. He got it over my head and threw it away. He started kissing my neck and biting me softly. I loved when he did that. But I wanted his mouth on mine, and I tilted my head with his, he let my lips touch his and they moved in sync.

Our mouths stayed glued together as I fiddled with his belt and zipper. It didn't take long for me to find his hard-on, I rubbed him gently through his briefs, he groaned. I lifted up off him and removed my shorts, He moved my underwear to the side, and his own down, his cock shot up and his fingers grazed my warmth making sure I was wet. He hummed when he touched me, growing more eager to stick it in. He held his cock in place as I eased onto it. Letting out a breath of pleasure as I felt him enter me.

he started guiding my hips, rocking me back and forth, Daryl loved being in control, even if I was the one on top. He bit his lip, trying not to moan. His dick pushed deeper into me, and I couldn't help but make noise. I brought my lips to his, thinking it would mask my cries. It got harder as we sunk into each other. Whimpers leaving my throat, moans escaping through our kiss. He pushed me down, bucking his hips, I straddled him, and he wrapped his arms around my back, switching our position. He was on top now and I was floating below him. My shoulders barely touching the ground, He rested on his knees, his hands clinging to my waist, he began pounding into me. I whined as I felt his tip hit my cervix over and over again.

His breathing was heavy, and he cursed under his breath, He leaned in, my whole body on the ground now, my legs wrapped around his torso as he wrapped his arms around me. All I could do was plead with my whines. We were so passionate, yet making love with such haste like we didn't have all night. Daryl just knew what he was doing; and no one, not even before, could make me feel this good. I cursed under my breath as my body began to fill with pleasure, my nails digging into his skin, he knew I was close and sped up, with every thrust I could feel my climax getting closer. I bit his shoulder, if I made any more noise, I might attract walkers. his rapid breathing heavy in my ear, he sucked on my neck and left kisses in-between.

In the midst of our passion, Daryl pulled out and released onto my stomach, my release following, my chest was heaving up and down as I laid there on the cot. Daryl whipped the sweat from his brow and stood up, grabbing my shirt and shorts for me. He kissed me slowly as he handed me my things, and then kissed my forehead.

I put my clothes back on and he buttoned his vest back up, he laid down beside me, his head resting on his arms. and I followed, resting my head on his bicep, he pulled me in, I could still feel the heat steaming off his skin, he still had a few breaths to catch, I smiled at him, "I've been thinking about doing that all damn day." He admitted. He wrapped his body around mine and we just laid there, listening to the heavy rain on the metal roof. We started drifting off and fell asleep in each other's arms.

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wp: thewriterdoll

#daryl x y/n #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x you #daryl imagines #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x female reader #the walking dead

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erzsebetrosztoczy · 4 months

Text

For your wounded heart

Pt.1

Pairing: Mizu x reader

Word count: ~2k

Notes: If there will be interest for it, I'll continue the story, because so far there isn't really a Mizu x reader going on lmfaoo but we'll seeeee

Ps.: Mizu's pronounce is he/him in this part

Here's Part 2

The molten gold disc of the sun slowly crept up the horizon, pouring gray onto the world from the darkness. It rose drowsily, languidly among the tall canopies, leaves lighting up as it projected onto them as thousands of thalers appeared next to the shining disk.

The songbirds ruffled their feathers — ready for the challenges of another day, and sang happily to their companions.

A strong draft escaped from under the wooden door, making the embers of the flickering fire dance before running through your covers.

The sudden cold bit into your skin; grabbing you from the realm of dreams, dragging you back to the world of the living with its icy fingers. You opened your eyes with a terrified sigh; waking up from the warm and caressing dream you pulled yourself under the covers.

Another day, another task ahead of you.

Wearly, you dressed up before trying to gather your belongings, which you would need shortly.

A scalpel, a knife, gloves and a deep basket soon graced your side as you set off into the awakening forest.

Three days ago, you were approached by one of the most influential merchants in town. His wife caught the chills-fever, which her priests had not been able to cure with any of their treatments. Realizing that needles, prayers and incense would not help here, the nobleman visited you the day before, when the noises of the market in the main square seemed to dull down, when you started packing your goods to go home.

It had been a long time since you were last offered such a sum - too long for your liking. Short of money - and because you would have faced the wrath of a powerful man if you refused - you accepted his offer to heal his spouse.

Early in the morning, when the rooster hadn't even crowed, you were already ready to go collect the ingredients for the potion.

The sharp autumn air crawled over your skin, penetrated your bones and breathed newfound strength into your heart. Listening to the soothing soft melody of the forest, you set off towards its thickets, hoping that you would find enough ingredients for your tonics today. Everything was ready to take care of the sick wife- all you had to do was get the hojicha flower, of which you had run out of stock a while ago.

Pulling your cloak tight around your shoulders, you stepped on the wet moss carpet, careful not to slip on the rutted ground. Soon the ground would start to freeze- you thought as you tried to remember which tree trunk you marked, where you should turn right or left to reach your usual harvesting location.

"If I want to have everything in the winter, I have to collect them in time..." You sighed, stepping over a taller ditch. "Maybe I should look at the market to buy seeds and-"

"To the best of my knowledge, you have to go the other way to the nearest market." A harsh, sharp voice spoke from your left.

You immediately screamed and if the cold didn't do it until now — the stranger who suddenly stumbled here had certainly frozen your blood. The pounding of your heart only made it worse as you spun backwards, trying to face the source of the sound. Your foot slipped and you fell to your knees, hitting a wet log while you turned your head trying to find the source of the sound.

After a while, three men appeared in front of you; one from the nearby bushes, while two crept out from behind the cover of the trees; like wild dogs lurking in wait for their prey.

"The lady must be lost, people can disappear quickly in the forest..." The other man nodded with a vile grin, rubbing his palms together while approaching you.

"Certainly, it is not recommended to walk alone in such remote places at the crack of dawn." The third man took over, turning his attention to the basket lying on the floor next to you. “It's better if we accompany you… so no one attacks you.”

"I didn't, I just-" You stammered, but your voice got stuck in your throat as the three strangers walked closer and closer. Their ragged and dirty clothes, their darkly glistening dreadful eyes ruled out that they were simple wanderers.

You ran into bandits on the road, alone, in the middle of the forest. Your heart was pounding in your throat and kept yelling for you to move, escape, run — otherwise you will take your last breath here forever.

Your eyes darted to your overturned basket – deep inside your knife was glinting in a cold light. If you could be fast enough to get it out of there...Fight for your life. You fight or you die.

But instincts were stronger than reason; the Gods opened a third way for you at that moment.

You pushed yourself away with your hands, your heels digging into the ground hard, almost scraping it up as you jumped up to run away like a chased deer. You could barely feel your legs, could barely breathe as you ran through the trees with all your might, jumping over bushes, rocks, and pits. With your heart in your throat, with the sound of the bandits' steps and shouts in your ears, you kept going forward, not even daring to look back.

Your ability to navigate had left you, you didn't even know if you were running towards or away from them, there was just the feeling that you still had to go, still run, still fight. If you stopped you were dead, if you fell you were dead, if they caught up you were dead.

A huge thorn bush appeared in front of you, too high and wide it would have been almost impossible to jump over it, to get around it; so for lack of a better option you tensed your muscles, pulled your neck in, closed your eyes and ran into the branches, shielding your face with your arms.

The pain that ignited in the darkness flashed through you as a hundred and a thousand spikes dug into your exposed skin; then you felt the ground open under your feet, suddenly you began to fall.

You didn't even have time to cry out when you hit the hard ground with your side.

Lying there injured and exhausted, with a bursting heart, you realized that it was all over.

You just sealed your faith.

Panting and choking from crying, you heard the rustling of the bushes behind you, then the trampling of feet.

"Here's the little slut" One of the men chuckled, but the cheering stopped almost immediately.

You did not dare to look up from the ground, did not dare to move; you were left lying on the ground trembling, awaiting death...

But nothing happened.

Another second, but there was only silence, no more footsteps, no giggles, no shouts.

Blinking away the dirt and blood, you looked from behind your lashes and then realized why you were still breathing.

The attention of the three thugs no longer plagued you. They turned almost motionless, to the left, watching ahead of them.

You followed their gaze and saw that you had fallen on a road. On a road where a fourth stranger was now standing in front of you.

A tall, lanky stranger in blue traveling clothes, the bamboo hat he wore pulled low over his face, obscuring his features.

A stranger with a sword in his hand.

Suddenly everything around you seemed to be silent; the chirping of the birds died away, the trees and twigs no longer creaked and cracked, as if the wind itself had stopped to watch the unfolding scene.

Not wanting to break the silence, you stared at the fourth stranger, holding your breath, wondering what would happen now.

Was that your savior ahead of you? Or was he just a wanderer who didn’t care what troubled others, who would only solve his own problems, regardless of if he made others ill-fated? Maybe you got out of the frying pan into the fire?

"There's nothing to see here." The nimblest bandit growled, a rusty knife in hand. "Everybody's minding their own business, right?"

"This matter belongs only to us and this woman, there is no need to cause difficulties for anyone." The largest one with a long mustache spoke slyly, the one closest to you clutched a heavy cudgel in his fist, his knuckles white from the force with which he gripped it.

The blue-clad stranger didn't answer immediately, instead tilting his head to the side, he peeked out from behind the brim of his hat, flashing his yellow-tinted glasses in the light.

"Looking at you, I suspect you are road thugs." The sword bearer spoke, his voice softer than you would have expected. "You rob those who come here." His words didn't seem like a question.

At this, the third man - the fox with a smile, who had a katana, spat down his side stepping forward in front of his companions.

"If you want good for yourself, you turn back or walk past us without another word." He snapped in his raspy voice, grabbing the hilt of his sword as the other two tensed with their weapons as well.

Barely able to handle the shaking and the hitching of your breath, you lifted your torso off the ground with challenge, turning to the blue-cloaked stranger desperately.

"Please…" Your voice trailed off as sobs broke from you. "Don't let me die, please!" Your voice cracked; hot tears washing away the mud and blood from your face. "Help me, please!"

The lanky stranger moved his arm back, revealing the hilt of his sword as he reached towards it with his right hand.

You inhaled through your teeth when you heard the deep clang of metal and clattering footsteps as the bandits charged towards him.

You dropped back down, pulling your knees to your chest as the battle began. Only daring to watch the scene from the cover of your arm.

The swordsman reached first the blue-clad savior, swinging an upward blow from the left, but his sword met another steel.

The man in the hat drew his sword from the sheath with the speed of a viper, breaking the first attack with almost no effort. Before the thug could react to it, the man was already flying to the ground, his legs entangled as the blue clothed one pushed him away to answer the next blow.

The rusty knife reached him second, and while his companion seized the stranger with his blade, he thrusted his knife towards your helper's neck. The cloaked man shoved the katana wielder away with his foot as he turned his torso to the side, the knife still flying towards him mid air.

Taking advantage of the movement, he turned to the right, placing one raised foot in front of the other, cutting across with his blade in front of him.

In a blink of an eye, red rain shot from the arm of the knife-wielding bandit - the sword almost cut his arm off. He staggered with a sharp wail, then fell to the ground, where he continued to shriek.

The one with a cudgel on the other hand did not attack yet, instead he stopped from a decent distance so the sword of the man in blue could not reach him, seemingly considering his next moves.

But this proved to be only a distraction when the first attacker reappeared, this time springing into action behind your savior's back.

The one in blue could hear this, as he turned to the side keeping an eye on both of his attackers, but then the largest started to move suddenly in order to attack at the same time with his other partner.

Seeing the impossible situation, you already had the mental image of the swordsman slashing your savior while the other beat him to death with the heavy club — you whimpered in terror, burying your face in your arms to shield yourself from the sight.

You heard a shout and the clang of steel meeting again, something heavy falling to the ground. A dull, more watery pounding - the cudgel! Bubbling, frothy snoring- a moan of agony and then silence.

You were next, you were sure of that.

Sharp cuts, bone-crushing blows and then slow, lingering death awaits you.

But there was no movement, not even a single grunt from the fight.

Panting, you raised your head to shorten your wait, but you did not find yourself facing the person you were waiting for.

You caught the gaze of the blue-cloaked stranger. You watched with a dry throat and roaring head as he stood over the three bloodied, dying bandits, his sword still clutched in his right hand.

The bamboo hat was no longer on his head, it probably fell off sometime during the fight when you weren't looking, and now was lying at his feet, waiting to be dusted off and put on again.

But instead, the stranger staggered, his knees buckling as he took two steps forward, finally slumping forward onto the ground, leaving you alone in the field of vigilance.

#blue eye samurai #mizu #bes #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #bes x reader #blue eye samurai imagine #mizu imagine #bes imagine #blue eye samurai headcanons #mizu headcanons #bes headcanons #blue eye samurai fanfic #bes fanfic #mizu fanfic #x reader #for now i cannot decide yet if it will be gn or fem reader tho :/#my writing

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niki-phoria · 4 months

Text

YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS / APOCALYPSE

pairing: taehyun x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 580

the morning is quiet when taehyun slowly stirs awake. the sun has just barely begun to rise - golden rays threatening to break through thick clouds hanging in the sky. birds chirping quietly outside of your window serve as a pseudo alarm clock that somehow never seems to wake you.

taehyun smiles when he registers your arm gently resting over his stomach, your hand rests gently wrapped around his waist. he can feel the weight of your head pressed against his chest, resting just on top of his heartbeat.

your legs are still intertwined beneath your blankets; your bodies molded together in almost the exact same position that you were in when you both fell asleep. despite your bedhead and the quiet snores that occasionally escape from your lips, you still look beautiful.

relaxing against the sheets once again, taehyun lets his eyes flutter closed for just a second longer. he waits until the sunlight begins to sneak into your bedroom, illuminating the room in a beautiful golden glow. he sighs, rolling onto his side to grab his phone. the device feels heavier than normal in his still overly tired state. the light is almost blinding as he switches it on, squinting at small numbers now shining brightly back at him. 06:07.

taehyun quietly groans, letting his phone dramatically fall back onto your bedside table. in the silence, his mind begins to drift. dance practice is scheduled to begin at 07:00. soobin - ever the responsible leader - is likely already awake and preparing breakfast for the others. yeonjun will be the next to stumble out of bed before collapsing onto one of the couches, sleepily scrolling through his phone or slowly trying to prepare for the day ahead. kai will follow some time later, either clumsily helping soobin with breakfast or joining yeonjun in sleeping on the couch. beomgyu will be the last to leave his bedroom, quickly scarfing down some food before herding the others into the car.

glancing down at you once again, taehyun raises a hand to cup your face. his touch is feather light as he trails his fingers against your skin before brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes. he carefully shifts, doing his best to move out from underneath the covers without waking you - but his plans are quickly thwarted.

“tae,” you sleepily whine, nuzzling yourself even closer to his body. your hands grip the fabric of his shirt between his fingers as if he’ll slip out of your grasp the moment you let go. the feeling of your breath ghosting against his exposed skin sends shivers down taehyun’s spine. “don’t leave yet. five more minutes.”

he knows it’s wrong. he knows that your shared apartment is thirty minutes away from the hybe building and that it’ll take at least 20 minutes to get ready. he knows that the longer he spends curled up in your arms, the less he’ll want to leave - even at the risk of being scolded by his manager for being late. he knows that your “five minutes” really mean waiting until your alarm begins blaring from your phone or your body naturally decides it’s gotten enough rest.

but, laying in your shared bed, with your head resting against his chest, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, taehyun can’t bring himself to care.

“okay,” he nods. he leans down to press a kiss against your forehead, softly smiling down at you. “five more minutes.”

notes: supposed to be written in taehyun's pov, honestly not super happy with this lol, not proofread pls forgive any mistakes

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my txt materlist <33

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jaidens · 9 months

Text

And When I Felt Like I Was An Old Cardigan

pairing [s] : spencer reid x reader

warning [s] : baby spencer | angst with comfort \ fluff | crying | mentions of spencers addiction |

a/n [s] : requests are open!! short imagine I guess

Spencer was young.

Spencer was young and had gone through more than any twenty-three year olds had. He was bullied and ridiculed throughout his school years, and was constantly working. His mind was on everything, how to be better and how to show people he wasn't some scrawny kid with some luck and brains.

It followed him into his adult life. In his work, if you didn't pull through you were pushed out. Spencer knew he had to continue to work on his information which led to him reading many books each week and never letting him do what he wanted. Whether that was binging Star Trek every night or eating cake and cookies while making fun of scientific facts in random television shows.

Eventually, after the Tobias Hankel case, he was at his all time low in his adult life. Spencer felt as if he had nothing to live for and he was shoved further down in his experiences. He felt like he was pushed on a shelf, and put away, for nobody to care or think about him. That was until he met you, an agent from a different branch of the F.B.I. You let him talk about his thoughts on the case and other facts that could travel along his sentences. It made him feel seen and that's all he needed.

After the case ended, you had called him, and asked if he wanted to get a cup of coffee and see a movie. He accepted it gratefully, meeting you on a frosty November morning. He's clad in a thick cardigan above a button up shirt and a bundle of feelings of worry. Spencer sees you in a small booth near the window, sipping on hot (what he learned to be) chamomile tea. There's a relaxing, acoustic song that's playing on the speakers.

He's gripping onto his leather satchel as he walks over to you. You look at him with eyes that he can get lost in through the dangerous labyrinth of the color. Spencer's hands go to his glasses and he readjusts them on his nose and stumbles to the table. His clothes seem to feel as if they're sticking against his skin as he sits down in the plush brown seat in front of you.

“Hi Spencer.” You say giving him a small smile and take another sip out of your steaming tea. Hes staring at you like you're a new book, the smell of a new book, and everything he loves about the sound of the first page turn. “...Hi.” Spencer responds letting out a breath he had been holding in, letting his shoulders drop and relax.

Spencer's eyes fall on the book that sits on the table that was aged and the spine wasn't in the best condition. He recognizes the name that's etched on the front. “Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë?” He asks you pointing at the book. You set down your tea and nod. “Yes! It's one of my favorites. Whatever our souls are made of...”

“...his and mine are the same.” Spencer finishes and you smile at him, the waitress walks over and Spencer tells her his order of a coffee with four sugars and two creamers. Whatever Spencer was doing, it was working. The soft charm he had to him whenever his dimples would show whenever he would smile, was working.

The same smile showed up the day he asked you to be his. He handed you a book with a note written inside with his messy hand writing. He can still remember the flash of happiness in your eyes as you ran up to him and kissed him. It didn't make sense to him for the first time in forever. It didn't make sense why he was terrified to look at you the next day as you wake up in his bed next to him.

He turns to the other side of the bed where you're laying, covered with his brown comforter. Spencer's hands suddenly feel sweaty and he's anxious, because that's his fiancee, laying in bed and the ring shines against the sun. If you would have asked twenty-three year old Spencer where he would be at 30, he wouldn't be able to answer you. Now, he knows. He knows that he's in complete and utter awe of his fiancee and that he's finally happy. This is what he's dreamed of for years, whenever he was a kid reading fairytale books over and over again.

Spencer finally had been seen and he was never losing it.

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x wife!reader #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff

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beefboyandbabygirl · 11 months

Text

Shiver Me Timbers! (18+)

pairing: pirate captain!seungcheol x siren!reader

genre: fantasy au, smut, pure smut with a fair amount of plot imo (MNDI pls), a little angst at the end

description: as seungcheol's ship drags up the shore, you watch from afar, eyes on the prize

warnings: PIRATE DIRTY TALK HELP, SLIGHT DUBCON bc hes u know a little under her spell, unrealistic ass transformation from fish 2 person, desperation, big dumb whiny cheol, bottom!cheol, kinda switch!reader, teasing, tiddie play, tiddie sucking, fairly graphic character death (drowning), seungcheol fucks yn like a ragdoll hihi, hes still bottom here tho, yn just has her tiddies OUT #progressive #2023

quotes from my proofreader: "I WAS WET!!", "he is soooo silly and sexy"

wordcount: 3.0k

“Anchor comin’ down!”

“Aye!”

There’s a mighty splash when the rusty anchor collides with the surface of the water. The chain clinks as it plummets, until it’s kicking up a storm on the sandy seafloor and the ship is safely secured. The Barbaric Seventeen is rocking like a mother rocks her young, gently swinging from the onslaught of waves from the North.

“Another safe map-navigation performed by the great Woozi!” Seungcheol speaks from where he’s perched on the head of the ship, one knee bent to sit his foot atop the wooden railing. He’s half bathed in sunlight, hot from the scorching sun over the endless sea. The shipmates clap and cheer, the odd clunk joining the cacophony from the members with missing hands. “Now go!” he commands, “Go find me my treasure, boys! It shan’t be much of a challenge for ye’s anyway!”

“Ye’s not comin’, Captain?” Mingyu calls from where the lot of them are crowding the planked deck, eyes squinted to stare at his silhouette in the sun. Seungcheol’s hat rustles as he shakes his head. “Naye, brother Mingyu. Today I will guard the Barbaric Seventeen,” he answers and pats the wooden railing like a dog.

The crewmates bugger off, one large group padding along the coast with their hooks and their scars and their swords in their belts.

“Don’t be tempted by pretty ladies out here, brother Jun!” Seokmin advises, gloomily. “There be sirens in these waters!”

“Don’t scare the kid, brother Seokmin,” Wonwoo snaps, standing on the other side of Jun, who looks at the two of them, lost and a little scared. “Sirens aren’t real.”

“Tell that to Jeremy!” Seokmin retorts, “RIP.” And then their voices are fading into the distance.

Seungcheol hardly notices their conversation, as he’s placed himself on a gathering of finely-churned sand, squinting into the sun-lit sea from the shadow of his Captain’s hat. His jacket, much too warm for the every beating rays above, has been discarded beside him, and now his chest peeks through a thin, muddied white shirt. Forever enchanted by the gentle breathing, the rise and fall of the sea, he’s quick to see you.

At first it’s simply a diamond-glisten under the surface of the water - Seungcheol knew the shine of gems, knew the way they reflected and captured the light - he half-sits up, biceps flexing as he peers in. Then, he catches the movement of something long and blue and scaly. The coasting water kisses his bare feet.

You’re smiling in the water, long, flowing hair like seaweed in the ever-turning tides. You’d spotted the ship miles back, and had followed discreetly under it. Now there’s a man alone on the shore, and you’re splashing your tail teasingly above the surface of the water, soft, rhythmic taps, beckoning him closer. Then you open your mouth and begin to sing.

Seungcheol’s stumbling to his knees, crawling on the sand. There’s a beautiful, intoxicating hum coming from the seafloor and he must, he must hear it for himself. Crawling until the water is reaching his chest, you finally strike.

Your head bursts from the water, splashing salty liquid onto the man, who’s gaping at the soft tunes from your ruby lips. You’re pushing your sopping hair back, eyes falling on him, sitting back on his knees now. You giggle, humming gently, when you lean into him. His eyes catch a diamond around your neck - the one he’d seen under the sloping water.

You’re the most beautiful woman - woman? - he’s even seen, and your chest is bare and glistening wet in the sunlight, and your cheeks are red and eyes sly. You’re leaning into him, hand brushing over his sculpted chest, poorly hidden from the soaked shirt, and you smell like the sea - you smell like home.

“Hi there,” you giggle, biting your lip at him. He’s so befuddled by you, he lets out a strangled moan at just the sight of you, before he’s recollecting himself.

“Hi,” he breathes, awestruck. He’s almost cute, you think, hip jutting into the wet sand beneath you. His eyes - unfortunately - sway downwards to your tail, and his eyebrows are furrowing. Wait a minute, he thinks, was this not what Seokmin was just talking about? “What are ye’s?” he asks, because something in his body is oozing fear, filling him like water cascades into a drowning man, and the spell is broken.

For an instant.

You see it immediately, the way the adoration leaves his eyes, and something reminiscent of disgust overtakes him at your fishy parts. Thinking fast, you grab his bigger hand in your own and press it to your chest. “Oh,” he breathes, flushing, and he’s looking at your chest, and the way it expands when you heave a breath to sing for him.

A song flows from your lungs and dances in circles around Seungcheol’s head. He can’t even remember what he was thinking about before, just feels his dick harden in his pants. Dazed and confused, the only thing grounding him is his hand, frozen on your chest and covered by your own. You smile, because he’s opening up to you like the shell of a clam.

“I’m a mermaid, silly. Don’t you want to touch me?” you whisper teasingly, emphasizing by shaking your chest and letting your tits jiggle right in front of him. He whimpers and nods, and you eye the hard-on in his lap, big and stretching the fabric of the pants to their limit. You look around, eyes catching the rock-quarry at the end of the beach, but seeing no one nearby. Then, you clumsily stretch yourself from your heavy, heavy tail, hand fondling him through the fabric. “You gotta pull me up,” you command, voice strained from the movement, and humid breath hitting his lips. He’s hissing and bucking into your hand, unable to comprehend your request.

“What?” he whines, panting and looking at your lips. Your tail is heavy as an anchor when on land, and the position is killing your back, so squeeze his chin between your fingers and grit your teeth at him. “Pull me onto land.”

He’s nodding dumbly and without even an ounce of effort, he grabs you by your waist and pushes the two of you onto dry sand. You’re immediately covered in a salve of small sand particles and moaning, really moaning, because this man is so big and strong, but so dumb, he had no trouble lifting you all the way onto land.

As soon as you’re out of the water, the diamond around your neck is glowing, turning hot against your collarbones, and Seungcheol is groaning, squeezing his eyes shut and holding a hand to shield himself from its intensity.

It stops, he sees the back of his eyelids darken and peeks open one eye, unable to help the little gasp that escapes him. You’re lying on your stomach in front of him and your tail is gone, replaced with soft human legs. Without a thought, he reaches over to touch the skin of your slippery wet new legs. You giggled at his dumbfounded expression, when his hand glides up from your thigh and squeezes your ass.

“You like it?” you chirp, and he chuckles breathlessly. “Aye.”

You push at him, crawling into his lap, all naked and soft and ready for him, hands on his chest, soothing the muscles. “That’s why we needed to be on land, silly.” You smile at him, sitting completely still in his lap, where your pussy is pressed into his crotch, and you’re nonchalantly, he feels foolish for being so beet-faced and nervous. “Well?” you begin, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “take off your clothes, dumbo!”

At your whim, he’s scrambling underneath you, shirt practically ripping, as he tears it off. His chest is so, so pretty - pale and defined and expanding into your hands. You watch him struggle with a fond smile, as you sit completely still on his crotch, even when he’s pulling his pants off. Your weight makes it damn near impossible to shimmy off. He doesn’t dare tell you to move though. Seungcheol feels like the luckiest man in the world, because your pussy is leaking onto his pants. Miraculously, he escapes the garments, and he looks up at you with a proud grin, as if he’d passed some sort of test.

“You did so well,” you coo, hand caressing his cheek and eyes shining in adoration when he nuzzles into your hand. Then your gaze drops. His cock is fucking huge and fucking red and pouring precum from the tip, oozing like blood from wound. “Let me reward you,” you whisper, satisfied when he whines and nods.

You press your thighs into his, hard, so he’s spreading his legs, a sprawled out starfish on a quarry-rock. You see his stomach tense at that, and he’s groaning. “Please, please, please.”

“Y/n. Grab my boobs.”

His hands find your tits immediately at your request, thumbs pressing into the areolas.

“Please, please, please, Y/n!” he’s yelling because it’s torture, and he’s throwing his head back to call out to God. But you’re the mightiest being present, and you push yourself up to teasingly run his cock through your folds, over and over, humming to the melody of your sticky pussy kissing his cock. “Please,” he cries.

“I don’t know,” you hum, rubbing yourself carelessly against his achingly hard cock. “I kind of like just this? Don’t you like this?”

“In, in, in!” he’s sobbing, arms flexing where they’re stretched out to hold your soft mounds, clinging to them for dear life. “Oh,” your voice is laced with fake sympathy, “Oh, you want in?”

“Please,” he gasps. You shrug in compliance, “Okay.”

Finally you pause your grinding, stopping his cock at once when you feel it, the sticky head of it creating tension at your slit. You sink down. Then you stop. The head of his cock is nuzzled in your warmth and you’re flexing your thighs to keep yourself on top of him.

“No, no, no!” he cries, bucking his hips upwards and shaking from the frustration, when your hand pushes his abdomen down. You pout: “I thought this was what you wanted? Are you not in?”

Usually, you can get away with fucking around with men in this manner, but it seems this time you’ve thoroughly miscalculated: In what felt like a split second, Seungcheol sits upright and removes his hands from your chest, anchoring them on your hips and bouncing you.

He’s pushing you down on his cock, and this time you’re the one crying out, utterly taken aback when, with seemingly no effort at all, he lifts your entire body weight and slams you down again.

He’s grunting and panting, completely enchanted by your body and your pretty moans. He grunts at the way your perfect pussy chokes his cock. You’re no better. You’ve lost all control of the situation, slipping into a cockdrunk haze and crying out again and again at the way his tip kisses your cervix.

“Beautiful, such a pretty girl, aye? Squeezin’ me cock so tight,” he grunts, and all you can do is cry, burying your head in the crook of his neck and kissing it feebly. “Mhm, ye better treat me nice next time? Hmm?” His voice is deep and baritone against the shell of your ear.

Your clit is like the x’ed out treasure on one of Seungcheol’s maps, when he snakes his hand down your soft body to rub it in messy circles. “Prettiest moans me ever heard. Say me name, sweetcheeks, say Seungcheol,” he commands and you can only comply, orgasm fizzing in your stomach at his constant onslaught.

“Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol!” you chant as you cum, cunt squeezing his cock like you were trying to kill him. The image of your scrunched up, blissed out face and your pussy creaming on his shaft, has he himself cumming inside you, painting your walls with cum, white like seafoam. He’s rutting into you for a few last pumps, and crying into the valley of your breasts. Despite the sun burning into the skin of your back, you’re certain you see stars.

You’re breathing each other in, foreheads pressed together as you recover and smelling the stench of salt and vigor. Seungcheol is still enchanted by you, your beauty, your voice, and he’s trying to capture your lips in a kiss, when you snap your head, almost startled, and peering out to a quarry of rocks at the end of the beach. Seungcheol is still feigning for your lips, thumbs rubbing circles in your waist, when he asks you: “Are ye okay? Ye hear sumthin?”

“No,” you breathed, hesitantly ripping your eyes from the rock. You smile at him, and he leans in and you let him, but only for a peck. You’re pulling away, even when he chases your lips and whines. You giggle, suddenly slipping his dick out of you and laughing even harder when he bends over from the sensitivity.

“Come back, Y/n,” he cries softly and you’re falling standing up in the sand, just in front of the water, beautiful and stark naked and glowing in the sun. “You come to me,” you tease, but without hesitation Seungcheol scrambles to his feet to follow after you. He stops when he’s standing right in front of you again, eyes big and soulful and full of so much love for you. “I’m here,” he announces in a whisper.

“Come with me into the sea, Seungcheol,” you pout and bite your lip at him. “I can’t be here.”

“But-”

“No! It’s not safe up here. I have to go back in the water,” you make big eyes and run a hand up his big, muscular arm. “But you can come with.. My necklace can turn you into a mermaid, too..”

“Really?” he whispers, grabbing your hands and squeezing tight, simply overjoyed. He’s too dazed from his orgasm to realize what you’re asking him to leave behind. All he wants is you. You intertwine your fingers with his.

“Yeah,” you take a step back into the white foaming water, and once again your necklace begins glowing, so intense that Seungcheol once more has to close his eyes.

When they open again you’re lying in the water, still mostly out of it, and your bottom half is gone, replaced by the glittering scaly tail he saw before. You were so plump, so pretty, the way your tits bunched up in the sand.

“Help me, Seungcheol, push me into the water again,” you request weakly, arms flexing as you try to unstuck yourself from the sand that grabs at your heavy tail. “When will you turn me into a mermaid?” he asks innocently, leaning down to help drag you, still stark naked and pale body glowing in the sun. “Just- just when I’m back in the water,” you mewl, strained.

When you stop feeling the seafloor drag against your sensitive tail, you tug Seungcheol to you harshly. He falls next to you, panicked. “H-Hey!”

He’s only gone under the surface for a moment, before he bops his head over the water, black hair sticking to his forehead. Spitting out the salty liquid, pouting. “That was mean,” he complains, treading in the shallow water. You giggle, thriving in the cool slick of the sea, having missed the way the water hugs you, how it caresses and kisses and loves. That was why you needed to pay it back.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you pout. “C’mere. Let me make it up to you.”

Seungcheol paddles himself into you and you hold him into your chest, his nose and eyelashes prodding softly at your skin. You sigh when he begins licking at the smooth skin, hands pawing your waist.

“It’s such a shame,” you frown, looking at how pretty he is, as his plump, pink lips mouth at your nipple, lashes long and pretty over his downturned eyes. He hums questioningly, not stopping his ministrations on your chest. One moment you’re gently pulling the wetted dark locks behind his ear; the next you’re fastening your arms around him, and kicking your tail.

You’re underwater. Seungcheol flinches at the initial movement, then begins thrashing in your arms, when he registers that you’re underwater. You’re ignoring how painful, how strong his hands are when he punches and wriggles in your hold, only swimming deeper, deeper, deeper. The sunlight above, fragmented from the waves surface of the water becomes sparser.

He’s even paler in the dark. You see him perfectly clear, tugging and kicking. Maybe there’s even a small hope in his chest - a hope, that this is just a little joke, and that just a moment from now, you’ll grab him by the hand and pull him back to the surface. That moment doesn’t come. Everytime he tries to push himself up, your hand is there to keep him down.

It feels like forever, and it’s more painful than any other time you’ve done it. He’s humming groans from the lack of air and when he finally gives out to gasp for air, he chokes out the most haunting noise you’ve ever heard, bubbles trailing up from his newly-dead corpse. Finally he’s still against your chest. You pull him away with a deep frown and see his face, fully relaxed now and drained of color. You hold onto him by his shoulders, hoping to memorize his face, hoping to remember him.

Then you’re releasing him and he floats downwards, hair dragging upwards, almost as if reaching for you.

He’s just another rock in the sand, you try to tell yourself, as his body is cast away to the deepest, darkest quarters of the ocean. But it doesn’t feel that way. As you swim away, humming your siren song and reverberating in the dark, bottomless depths, you can’t help but feel that this time, your victim was not just a sandcorn; he was a bright, shining pearl.

#seungcheol x reader #s.coups x reader #scoups x reader #svt seungcheol x reader #svt scoups x reader #seungcheol smut #s.coups smut #scoups smut #svt smut #svt x reader #svt x reader smut

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