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into-the-grey · 3 months ago

Text

~Until You're Resting~

Noah x F!Reader Fic

When a night out goes wrong, and you're completely alone, cornered, and your phone is broken, there's only one place left to go, and he's not gonna like it...

Warnings: Blood, Injury, Assault, Being followed, mild mean!Noah, Death, Hospital setting, Nightmares, Knives, Running (exercise, ew), Probably incorrect medical knowledge

WC: 9.6k (inc Epilogue)

Taglist: @wh0th3h3llisbucky @blend-in-with-the-madness

Fic Masterlist

The fog from her breath was whisked away in the cool night air. Temperatures plummeted as winter began to settle on LA, bringing a cold snap with it.

Y/N tried to breathe quietly, but she had been running for so long that her lungs were burning. Even though she couldn't tell where they were, she was sure the men were still following her.

The night had gone very wrong, very fast. Against her better judgement, Y/N had counted on public transport to get home. This late at night, and in this part of town, she should have known better.

She had been answering a text when one of them grabbed her shirt, the other grabbing at her waist. Her hands stung from the scrapes and her ribs burned. She had been thrown forward onto the harsh concrete, and she scrambled away from the two men before taking off down the road.

The men chased her from the bus stop, following her down side streets and alleys. Now she was crouched behind a car, trying to hold her breath and listen to figure out where they were. A small puddle of blood formed on the concrete, but she had no time to assess where she was bleeding from.

Y/N could hear their heavy footsteps nearby. They were searching for her, calling out unintelligible sounds and taunting her. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle the sound of her panting.

Her heart thundered in her chest and every tiny sound felt too loud. She was almost sure they could hear her blood pumping through her veins.

With trembling hands, she slipped her phone out of her pocket. The screen was badly smashed, and as she tried to wake the device she was greeted with a frazzled mess of pixels. The phone had been broken in her fall.

'Shit,' she whimpered. Calling the cops was out of the question. She would have to do this alone.

She drew in a deep, shaky breath, surveying her surroundings. She knew where she was. The suburban area had almost no cover. A few of the houses had bushes in the front yard, but they wouldn't be enough to hide behind if the men came this way, and if they cornered her in one of the yards there would be no way out.

There was only one way to go. A couple hundred yards down the street there was a small laneway between two houses that led to a cul-de-sac. If she could get down there undetected, there was a fence she could jump.

He would be mad, but it was her only option.

Slowly rising to her feet, she scanned the street. She could see them on the corner, still looking for her. There was no mistaking what they wanted. Her escape had clearly pissed them off, because the unmistakable glint of a knife in the taller one's hand made her stomach sink.

She stayed low, bending down to cover herself behind the cars as she crept down the street, darting quickly between them and ducking down. Each step sounded like an explosion in her ears. She kept checking over her shoulder every few feet, praying they wouldn't notice her.

As she crept closer to the laneway, the gaps between cars grew larger. Each time, Y/N checked behind her, waiting to see if they had noticed her movements. Somehow, they remained oblivious, but they were still moving towards her blindly.

She made the sprint from behind a small grey sedan to the big black truck that sat closest to the alley. Her footsteps seemed to echo as she moved on her toes, trying desperately to minimize any noise. She dove behind the large truck, creeping around the back and glancing down the laneway.

She could see the fence. Salvation taunted her. All she had to do was run faster than them.

Y/N had a head start, but she was exhausted and bleeding. She wasn't sure she would be fast enough, and that didn't address the challenge of scaling the fence.

There was no cover between the truck and the alley, only a long stretch of lawn and pavement. This was going to be dangerous.

Her heart pounded as she shuffled in place, gearing herself up for the most important sprint of her life.

'Okay,' she hissed to herself. 'Okay, one... Two...' she counted, shoving her phone back into her pocket and rocking from foot to foot. She searched herself for all the courage and adrenaline she had left, keeping her eyes on the fence.

She should have looked over her shoulder.

'Down there!' One of the men yelled.

'Shit!' Y/N hissed, launching off her front foot as fast as she could and tearing down the alley. She refused to look back, the sound of their boots chasing her only just louder than the sound of her blood rushing in her ears.

The house on the other side of the fence was dark, but she knew there was a dog door that she could fit through. All she had to do was get into the yard and get through that door.

He would be livid, but she hoped he would understand.

Her feet pounded against the pavement, the cold air like knives in her lungs. All she could see was the fence. It was tall, and it would be a miracle if she could get over unscathed, but she knew she had to try. There was no way to get to the front of the house. Not from this street, anyway.

As she grew closer to the fence, she braced herself for the hardest climb of her life. This side of the fence was smooth, there would be almost no friction to help her get over. This was going to be all on her upper body strength, and her hands were torn to shreds.

Their footsteps entered the alley, their panting interspersed with the odd jeering call. Y/N didn't want to know what would happen if they caught up to her.

This was it.

She crossed the cul-de-sac, running up the gutter and trying to leap for the top of the fence.

She just managed to reach the top of the planks, her hands screaming in agony as her body weight pulled down on the scrapes and scratches. The blood on her hands made her grip slick.

With a cry, she pulled as hard as she could, her feet scrabbling against the smooth planks, searching for any purchase. Bit by bit, she got closer.

'Where do you think you're going!?' One of the men yelled, his voice too close for her liking.

Finally, her feet found some grip, pushing her up the fence. Y/N hooked her elbow over the top, yanking herself up and scraping her belly and chest over the wooden planks, shrieking as the rough edge of the wood dug into her body.

A strong hand grabbed at her ankle, and she cried out as she felt him pull.

'Get off of me!' She screamed, 'leave me alone!'

Kicking back, her foot collided with something, a sick crunch following the feeling.

'BITCH!'

She threw herself over the fence, toppling off the other side as the man grabbed for her leg again.

She landed hard on the gravel that filled the corner of the yard. The men yelled from the other side of the fence, but it didn't seem like they were trying to get over. One of them screamed, the other hurling insults at her and kicking at the fence.

She knew the fence was sturdy enough that they wouldn't be able to break it down, but she didn't care. Adrenaline still surged through her body, screaming that she wasn't safe yet. Y/N forced herself back onto to her feet, ignoring the pain filling her body as she rushed around the house. Down the side of the house, she could see the laundry door.

'Please be open,' she gasped, 'please be open.'

Her feet pounded on the pavers, the odd crunch of a stray piece of gravel under her feet broke up the rhythmic sound. As she reached the door, she pushed on the dog door, relieved to see it swing inward.

Falling to her knees, she threw herself through and into the laundry, spinning around quickly and locking the flap shut, sliding the metal cover down over it.

She hurled herself backwards away from the door until her back met a cabinet. Finally, she could breathe. Her choked gasps filled the room, her head spinning and her hands on fire while she fought for breath.

As her chest heaved, her injuries began to make themselves known.

Her palms stung, bleeding from the scrapes. Her ribs pounded and her stomach felt bruised, and her leg screamed with pain. A quiet dripping sound caught her attention, but it was too dark to see where it was coming from.

While she gasped for air, another noise echoed through the house.

Footsteps.

She froze, praying they hadn't gotten in.

She clamped her hand over her mouth in a feeble attempt to silence herself. Tears began to well as she felt the panic building again.

The room was dark, and there was nothing obvious to defend herself with. If they had gotten in, all she would be able to do was scream.

Bit by bit, the footsteps padded closer to the laundry.

She knew she should call out, but she couldn't, she was paralysed. If it was them, she was done for.

Closer.

And closer.

The door handle rattled under someone's hand, and slowly the door creaked open. A shaft of light filled the room. She couldn't see who was holding the light, but the glint of the blade was unmistakeable. Y/N flinched away from the light, covering her head with a cry.

Y/N screamed, trying to throw herself away from the door.

'Whoa! whoa, stop screaming!' Came the familiar voice. The overhead light turning on and revealed the tall, tattooed man. Noah stood in his sweatpants, holding a katana and using his phone as a flashlight. 'What the fuck are you doing here!?'

As soon as she saw him, she dropped her hands back to her ribs, holding the area tightly and gasping for breath as she began to cry.

'I'm sorry,' Y/N panted, tears streaming down her face, 'I didn't know where else to go.'

As Noah looked at her, she could see the colour drain from his face. She followed his gaze, seeing the blood dribbling from her leg and leaving a pool on the laundry floor, and the bloody handprints all over the tiles.

'Y/N, what the fuck happened to you?' He asked, putting the sword and his phone on the counter and dropping to her side. He grabbed a clean towel from the basket by the dryer and pressed it to her leg, holding it tightly. His eyes searched her face, trying to hide his horror.

In the light he could see that she was bleeding badly, and her face was smeared with red from covering her mouth. His gut twisted at the smell, the salty metallic scent filled the room.

Y/N coughed, her face contorting as she held her side. 'I was waiting for the bus, and these two guys grabbed me. I ran, but they chased me,' she said, gulping for air. 'I broke my phone, so I jumped your fence. I'm sorry, I couldn't think of anything else to do-'

'Hey, no, shut up,' he told her, pressing harder against her leg as the blood started to seep through the towel. 'Don't apologise. You did the right thing coming here. I'd rather you come here than risk it out there.'

'I thought you hated me?' Y/N said, gritting her teeth.

Noah's body tensed, his gaze locking on his hand. 'Not enough to want you dead.'

Y/N nodded awkwardly while Noah looked her over.

'Can you stand?' He asked. 'I've got a first aid kit upstairs. I need to see how bad this is, and we need to call the police.'

Y/N stayed silent, his tense tone only making her stomach sink further. She nodded slowly.

Carefully, Noah released his grip on her leg. The blood continued to flow, but it seemed slower now.

'Come on,' he said, standing up and tossing the towel over his shoulder, offering her his hand.

'Do you really want to do that?' She asked, showing him her free hand and the blood smeared across it. Noah rolled his eyes, flexing his fingers.

'It's fine, I'm gonna get covered in it anyway. Come on.'

Timidly, Y/N took his hand, staggering to her feet. The adrenaline in her system had begun to fade, and her body was crashing. She tried to put her weight on her cut leg, crying out as it buckled in pain beneath her.

Noah lunged for her, yanking her towards him with the hand he held and wrapping his arm underneath hers, holding her steady against his chest.

'Okay, you can't walk,' he said, feeling her trembling against him. Her eyes were wide with fear, her hand still clutching her ribs. She refused to look up at him, shaking her head as she mumbled.

'I'm sorry, I thought I could.'

'Y/N, stop apologising,' he told her firmly, glancing at her face, 'and don't apologise for apologising. I know you're about to.'

Y/N nodded once, wincing as he slung her free arm over his shoulders and positioned her at his side. He began to hoist her up, but her shriek made him freeze, almost dropping her.

'Fuck, fuck, stop!' Y/N cried, pain searing through her ribs as Noah pulled.

'Shit, are you good?' He asked, letting her down.

'Nope,' she gulped, 'ribs. I think I bruised them climbing the fence.'

'Alright, fuck this, I'm carrying you,' he told her, crouching and sweeping his arm behind her knees. He made sure to keep her injured side away from him, lest he make it worse.

Y/N grimaced, yelping as he brought her close to his chest.

'Grab the phone,' he instructed flatly, nodding to the counter where his sword and his phone laid, the flashlight on the phone beaming up to the ceiling.

Y/N grabbed the device and felt Noah begin to walk.

'You're not gonna like this, but I'm gonna need you to strip. I need to see what we're dealing with,' Noah told her somewhat sheepishly, making his way through the dark house.

Y/N pursed her lips. 'Well, this is not how I expected tonight to go,' she sighed, reluctantly resting her head on his shoulder.

'And what did you expect?' Noah's terse voice asked. She couldn't deny the hurt that his accusatory tone inflicted.

She glared up at him, only just able to see him in the low light. 'Nothing to do with you.'

Noah's lip tightened, and she felt his fingers twitch as he held her. She didn't want to trade blows with him, but if he was going to be this way when she needed help, then so be it.

'That's not answering my question though,' he asked tightly.

'Not that it's any of your business, but I thought I'd go out with friends and have a few drinks. That I'd go home and go to bed. Alone or otherwise...'

'Well, after this, I don't think you're going to bed alone.'

'And why is that?'

Noah shook his head, glancing down at her as he climbed the stairs. The look seemed to be asking if she was stupid. 'As if I'm letting you go anywhere after you just got attacked. If you're not going to hospital, you're staying here.'

Y/N's stomach twisted. 'Again, I thought you hated me?'

'Again, not enough to want you dead. I'm not a monster.'

Noah pushed the bathroom door open with his foot, making his way into the room and sitting Y/N down on the closed toilet. He reached behind him, turning the light on quickly and surveying the damage.

'Alright, pants off. I need to see what's going on here,' Noah instructed.

He moved to the cabinet while Y/N kicked her shoes off. She awkwardly shuffled her pants off, peeling them down her bloodied legs. Noah produced a large red container from underneath the sink, slamming the cabinet shut and turning back to her.

He shuffled across the floor, sliding the container over the tiles and coming back to kneel by her legs. He quickly flicked the towel off of his shoulder, trying to wipe her leg as clean as he could to see the damage.

Her thighs were scraped from the fence, but the side of her calf was torn open with a decent gash and still dribbling blood. Even her sock had turned red from the amount that had dripped into her shoe.

'What the fuck did they do to you?' Noah said softly, inspecting the wound.

'I don't know. I guess he got me with the knife when I jumped the fence,' Y/N winced as he pressed the towel to her leg again.

''Wait, there was a knife? Are you fucking serious?' he stammered, staring at her with wide eyes. His jaw hung slack and his heart thumped in his chest. A sudden wave of nausea hit him, but he swallowed hard, refusing to show it.

'Yeah,' she nodded. 'I didn't think I got hit.'

'Call the police, now,' he told her, gesturing to his phone and returning his attention to the container, searching for something to disinfect her leg.

With her left hand still on her ribs, Y/N nervously picked up the phone, swiping it to unlock it. A four digit password blocked her access.

'Um, what's your passcode?' She asked timidly.

'Oh...' Noah said quietly, pausing. 'It's still our anniversary.'

Her stare softened, her hand trembling as she typed the combination. She knew the numbers by heart. 'You never changed it?'

'Just call them. You can give me shit for it later,' Noah grumbled.

Y/N pursed her lips. There it was again. The anger, the hatred. She rolled her eyes, pulling up the keypad and dialling 911.

While she called, Noah hunted through the kit for something to clean his hands and something to wipe the wound with. To his dismay, there were no gloves. Hand sanitizer would have to do.

He found a small box of wound wipes, gritting his teeth at the smell as he tore one open. 'This might sting,' he told her, turning his attention back to her leg. He unfolded the compact wipe, draping it over the wound and pressing down.

Y/N sucked in a sharp breath, clenching her teeth as the sting ripped through her leg. Noah's lips tightened, gingerly dragging the wipe across the skin and seeing the depth of the wound. He grimaced, it was likely going to need stitches. As the blood began to dribble again, he grabbed the once grey towel, holding it back to her skin and pressing down hard.

While Y/N relayed her attack and her location to the 911 dispatcher, Noah felt his jaw tense. It took all of his willpower not to go outside with one of his swords and find the men that did this.

While she wasn't his to protect anymore, it didn't mean he didn't care. His stomach bubbled with fury, biting his tongue to try and maintain his composure.

'No, I'm not alone,' Y/N said to the dispatcher. 'I'm with my, uh...' she paused, 'I'm with a friend. It's his house.'

She noticed the look on his face but didn't draw attention to it. He seemed upset by her use of the word "friend".

'Yeah, he's got a towel on my leg, it's bleeding pretty badly,' she said into the phone. She listened for a moment while the dispatcher tried to give instructions on how to care for the wound until help arrived. Y/N's eyes moved to Noah's face, 'can you see any yellow in there?'

'No, but it's still bleeding a lot,' Noah told her. 'I think it's just because you've been running.'

'They're going to send an ambulance just to be sure,' Y/N told him. 'As if I can afford that...'

'Shut up, I'll pay for it. You need the help, I can only do so much,' Noah snipped.

Y/N shut her mouth, looking away from him. Noah could see the hurt on her face, mentally kicking himself. She listened silently for a minute, and then she spoke.

'Yeah, just get them to ring the bell when they're here, he'll let them in,' Y/N said to the dispatcher, thanking them before lowering the phone and ending the call.

Noah sighed, shifting on his knees.

'I'm sorry, I'm just stressed, okay? This is a lot.'

'You're telling me,' Y/N huffed. 'You weren't exactly the first person who sprang to mind when I was running for my life. You take what you can get.'

Noah bit his lip, looking away. 'Alright, I deserved that.'

'You're giving me whiplash, Noah. One second you're caring, and the next you're telling me to shut up and treating me like I let this happen specifically to inconvenience you.'

Noah shook his head. 'I'm sorry, okay? You scared the hell out of me. Do you have any idea what it's like to lose someone like that, and then suddenly they're in your house at one in the morning, covered in blood?'

Her glare pierced through him like daggers. She stared hard at him, her mouth hanging open as she huffed. He knew that look, and he knew he'd trodden in it.

'You didn't lose me, you kicked me out. I wanted to fix things, but you pushed me away.' Her voice was low, almost growling.

'I pushed you away because you were already halfway out the door.'

'I was halfway out the door because you put me there!' Y/N yelped, her hand on her ribs as she leaned back against the cistern of the toilet. 'You were doing great, the band was taking off, and I was fine with that. I know you think I resented it, but I didn't! I was happy for you! I understood that fame comes with a price, but it wasn't the fame that fucked everything up. When quarantine happened, you weren't you. You were drunk all the time and you were avoiding me!'

'I was not avoiding you! You were avoiding me! That's why I was drinking! You never wanted to be around me, you were always on your phone or hiding somewhere!'

'Because you were on stream! You said you didn't want anyone to know about me for my own safety, so I stayed away from you whenever you were on twitch, which was all the fucking time! What did you think I would do, just sit and wait somewhere until you were ready to talk to me? I was fucking lonely, Noah! My family was across the country, I had no one here but you!'

'You had Ruffilo! And Folio! And Vince and Jolly!'

'No, Noah! You had them! They're your friends, not mine! Same with Davis and Matt! I was alone and you let me be alone!' She cried, her breath hitching. Noah could see the tears brimming her eyes, but he couldn't stop. This conversation had needed to happen for a long time, it was about time to finally get it out.

'So what? You just left?' he said curtly. 'You gave up on us and just fucked off?'

'You told me to! You said if I couldn't deal with it that you didn't need me! I was already on my own, I figured I might as fucking well!'

Noah grabbed at her hand, feeling her clammy skin as he grabbed another wipe and cleaned the scrapes. 'I was drunk, Y/N! I didn't mean it! I never thought you'd actually do it!'

'Oh, so you thought you could tell me to fuck off and what? You thought I'd stay? Be miserable? Keep waiting for you to un-pickle yourself long enough to see that we hadn't spoken in a week even though we slept in the same bed?' She said, wincing as he cleaned her palm. 'I don't know what you wanted from me, but clearly I couldn't give it to you. The way we ended fucking wrecked me, Noah.'

'It wasn't great for me, either,' he said, grabbing for the hand she had been holding on her ribs. As he held it in front of him, all of his anger dissipated, the cold chill of fear replacing it.

'Can you stop manhandling me!? I'm in enough pain,' she spat.

'Lift up your shirt,' Noah said tensely.

'Way to change the subject-'

'Y/N, lift up your shirt,' he said, looking at the thick layer of blood coating her palm. 'This is fresh, and there's a lot of it. Slowly, lift. Up. Your. Shirt.'

Y/N shut her mouth, her eyes widening at the sight of her hand. Cautiously, she reached for the hem of her shirt and peeled it up.

Noah felt sick, the wet fabric making an awful sticky sound as it separated from her skin.

'Oh fuck,' he breathed.

Her whole left side was red with blood, and a deep wound tore through the skin. Blood dribbled from the gash, trickling down her side in thick lines, absorbing into the fabric of her underwear.

In the centre, something silvery embedded itself into her skin. As her hand drew nearer to it, he realised that her fingertips were turning blue. She was bleeding out faster than either of them had thought. He was running out of time.

Noah's face dropped, his heart twisting. 'Don't panic, but I need you to lie on the floor. Now.'

Y/N blanched, her breathing quickening as she watched his expression closely. 'Noah, you're scaring me.'

'It's fine, don't panic. Get on the floor. We need gravity to stop pumping the blood down, okay?'

'What is it? Tell me what you see.'

She was too scared to look. His expression told her that whatever it was, it was bad. His features froze, his mouth hanging open as he stared.

'There's something stuck in your side,' he said slowly, his voice lowering. 'We're definitely going to the hospital.'

Y/N froze, her body refusing to move.

'What is it?' she asked quietly, letting her shirt fall and wincing as the fabric dragged across the wound.

Noah shook his head. 'I can't tell.' He swallowed hard, offering his hand to her. He couldn't hide the tremors, she saw his hand shaking as he reached for her. She grabbed his hand, her palm stinging as she gripped it tightly and slid forward.

'Grab onto me,' he said quietly, sliding closer and guiding her arms around his neck, carefully holding her waist. She groaned as he lifted her, her stomach churning and her head spinning. She was practically dead weight in his arms as he cradled her, lowering her to the floor.

'Noah, I think I'm going to pass out,' she told him, her grip faltering.

'It's alright,' he soothed. 'It's okay, I've got you.'

He laid her in the middle of the room, trying to make sure there was space for the paramedics to help her. Her back met the cool tile, her head falling back as she squeezed her eyes shut.

'Am I going to die?' she asked weakly, scared of the answer.

'Not if I can do anything about it,' he told her, shifting to her side. He yanked a towel off the rack behind him and rolled it up, placing it under her head as a pillow.

'I know you said don't freak out, but I'm freaking out.' Her eyes opened, looking up at him. Her pupils were saucers, wide and full of fear. He could see her breathing stutter, and he grabbed for her hand.

'Don't, it's gonna be alright, the ambulance will be here any minute, and they'll know what to do,' he told her, squeezing her fingers. With his other hand, he placed the bloody towel over the wound and pressed it carefully, trying to apply pressure around the injury without pushing on whatever the object was.

His hand shook in hers, fearing the worst. She was almost white. He could feel her heartbeat beneath the towel. It was terrifyingly fast, he knew he had to calm her down somehow. The blood was soaking through the towel quicker than he anticipated, and he didn't know what to do.

Y/N coughed, crying out as the spasm pushed the wound against Noah's hand. He grimaced, 'Talk to me, tell me how you feel.'

'I feel dizzy,' she told him, her grip on his hand slowly loosening. 'It's hard to breathe.'

'I mean, I am pushing on your chest,' he reminded her, trying to keep his tone light. 'That would make it hard to breathe.'

Y/N pursed her lips, looking up at him again.

'Noah, if I die-'

'You're not going to die. I'm not going to let you,' he cut her off. 'You're going to be fine.'

'How can you be so sure?' she asked, tears dribbling down her cheeks. 'You're shaking, which means you're scared. I know that means there's something you're not telling me...'

Noah shook his head. 'I'm scared, yeah. But that doesn't mean you're going to die. I told you, I'm not going to let that happen.'

'But if I do-'

'You won't-' Noah said, trying to fight her.

'Noah, please,' she begged.

Noah closed his eyes, shaking his head. 'No-,'

'I still love you, okay? I need you to know that,' She blurted out, holding his hand as tight as she could manage. 'You know that, right?'

Noah pursed his lips, his stomach dropped and his heart stopped. He finally paused, looking at her without his haze of adrenaline.

Her skin was pale and covered in a sheen of sweat, and the room looked like a murder scene. She had lost a lot of blood. The fear in her eyes made his stomach twist. He could feel her bleeding into his hand, the towel heavy as it squelched between his fingers. The gash on her leg still dripped on the floor, albeit slowly.

This was the woman he had once loved, the same one he swore he would sell his soul to keep safe so many years ago. And now he wasn't sure he could.

There was a chance this was it.

Did he really want her to die thinking he hated her?

'Yeah, baby, I know,' he whispered, nodding and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. 'Just stay with me, okay? I've got you, and we're gonna get through this. We can talk about all of this later.'

The doorbell finally rang, telling them that the ambulance had arrived. Noah looked down at Y/N, seeing tears spilling over as she tried to keep it together. It broke his heart to leave her there. He prayed he would be fast enough.

'I promise, I will be right back,' he told her, squeezing her hand and kissing her knuckles again. 'I'm gonna go and get them and we're gonna get you out of here, alright?'

'Okay,' she nodded, anxiously releasing his hand. The way her fingers trembled made him sick.

'Hold the towel on it, it'll help.'

His voice was thick, swallowing hard as he guided her hand to the towel, helping her hold it in place before he stood and rushed from the room.

He ran down the stairs, turning on every light switch he passed. His stomach churned as he saw the bloodstains on the carpet. He forced his feet to move as fast as they could, racing for the front door and opening it quickly.

'Hi,' the taller paramedic said warmly. He looked to be in his forties. His cropped hair was starting to turn grey and his smile crinkled his eyes. Noah wasted no time on pleasantries.

'Upstairs bathroom,' he told the man, panting, 'it's bad. There's something in her chest, we don't know what.'

'On it,' the man said, immediately becoming all business.

'I'll get the gurney and the trauma kit, you go straight up,' the other younger paramedic said. Her long brown hair swished behind her in a braid as she turned on her heel, rushing back to the ambulance.

'Lead the way,' the man said. Noah nodded, rushing back the way he came. Their steps thundered up the stairs as Noah darted around the corner with the paramedic in tow.

As they entered the bathroom, Noah could see Y/N struggling to breathe. The sheen of sweat had become droplets, and her eyes were starting to close.

'Hey,' Noah said quickly, dropping to his knees by her head, 'it's okay, I'm here, I'm back.'

'Hey, Y/N, was it?' The medic asked her calmly, kneeling by her side where she held the towel.

'Yeah,' she gasped, her right hand reaching for Noah's. Noah grabbed it, squeezing reassuringly.

'Y/N, I'm James, my partner Kate is bringing the gurney in so we can get you to the hospital, but first things first, we need to have a look at you. Can I lift your shirt up?' He asked, gently lifting her left hand away from her ribs.

Y/N nodded weakly, letting him expose her rib and inspect the wound.

'Oh wow, that can't feel good,' he said lightheartedly. 'It's definitely not the worst I've seen though. We'll have to get a scan to see how deep this thing is, but lucky for you it doesn't look like it's in your lung, otherwise we'd be seeing some spray every time you breathe.'

'Okay,' she nodded, her head falling back and resting on Noah's legs.

'It's gonna be okay, baby,' Noah assured her.

'You've had a bit of an ordeal tonight, haven't you?' James said, looking over her. 'Some nice scrapes, a bit of a gash on your leg, I hate to imagine what the other guy looks like.'

'I think I broke his nose,' Y/N coughed. 'He tried to drag me off the fence, but I kicked him and there was a decent crunch.'

'We might let hospitals in the area know to keep an eye out for anyone with that kind of injury, it'll help us find the guy. I'm just going to put some stickers on you, alright? Just so we can see how everything inside is doing.'

Y/N nodded tiredly, letting James get to work. He applied the ECG stickers over her body, attaching cables to them and hooking them up to the machine he had carried in. A soft beep told him that the machine was reading her heartbeat, and James didn't hide his concern very well.

Another set of footsteps approached the bathroom, and the female EMT entered with a crate in hand.

'Oh wow, we've had some fun in here haven't we?' She said, looking at the blood smeared across the floor.

The medics began to call instructions to each other, getting to work on stabilising Y/N for transport.

'Pulse is high, we're looking at stage two hypovolemic shock. Get fluids going and wrap the leg. Can you radio for police? They're probably going to want photos of all of this for evidence.'

'I have cameras,' Noah said, 'I can see if there's any footage of them chasing her?'

'That would be great, the more evidence we have, the easier it'll be to nail these guys when we find them,' Kate said as she set up an IV in Y/N's free hand.

While James stabilised the chest wound, Kate wrapped Y/N's leg tightly. Noah kept Y/N's hand tightly in his, stroking her hair with his other hand.

'Hey Y/N, I need you to talk to me, how are you doing?' James asked.

'Not so great,' she murmured.

'How so? Talk me through it,' he said warmly.

'I feel like I'm gonna be sick, or pass out, I don't know...'

Noah felt her hand loosening it's grip. 'Hey, you need to stay awake, come on.'

'He's right, Y/N,' Kate called out. 'Come on, keep talking to us. Tell me something, what were you doing before all of this?'

'I was...' Y/N mumbled, 'uhh, I was out with friends...'

James and Kate exhanged glances, James pointed at the screen of the machine hooked up to her heart.

'We need to move,' James said softly. 'Stage three, not two.'

'What does that mean?' Noah asked, his throat tight.

Kate scrambled off her knees, darting to the door and grabbing a large board that she had left outside the room. 'It means she's lost a lot more blood than we thought.'

Kate laid the board beside Y/N and James began to move.

'Alright, I'm gonna need you to step back while we move her. Go and grab a shirt, son,' James said, eyeing Noah sympathetically.

Noah nodded, moving carefully and laying Y/N's head down on the tile. 'I'll be right back, okay? I promise.'

Y/N nodded weakly, still gasping for breath. She tried to squeeze his hand, her fingers barely twitching.

Y/N watched him leave the room, her eyelids low and her ears ringing. She could see him look back at her with tears in his eyes. He didn't hide his fear well.

'I don't feel so hot,' she murmured.

'It's okay, just stay with me, alright?' James told her.

Y/N wanted to. She knew she should, but she couldn't fight the exhaustion. Her eyes rolled back as her breaths staggered. It was quick, and it was painless.

Then there was nothing. Just quiet.

***

The ambulance couldn't go fast enough. It killed Noah to sit quietly. His fingernails dug into his arms as he watched her breathing.

He had returned to the bathroom to find the paramedics performing CPR.

Y/N's eyes were open, staring up at the roof but seeing nothing. That image would haunt him forever.

It took them what felt like an eternity to get her back, and even then, she wasn't stable. They chose to take the risk and move her rather than continue trying to stabilise, lest they lose her again.

Noah was numb, barely able to register the noise and the chaos. Kate and James called back and forth to each other while Kate continued working to save Y/N and James drove.

All Noah could do was watch Y/N's chest, making sure she was still breathing.

He had no idea what the words that the paramedics were saying meant. He understood that Y/N's pulse was weak, and that was it.

But she had a pulse. She was still alive. That's what mattered.

Everything around him was a blur. He wanted to scream. Tears trickled down his cheeks as the ambulance pulled into the parking bay, James and Kate throwing themselves into action again.

A team of people in scrubs greeted them as the back doors of the van were thrown open. They wasted no time in getting her out and into the hospital.

'Stab wound in the left chest region, foreign body still in the wound,' James said to one of the doctors. 'Bleeding heavily, lost pulse approximately fifteen minutes ago, CPR was successful. We're looking at class three hypovolemic shock. We've pushed fluids, but we've done all we can.'

Noah clambered out of the ambulance, trying to follow them. They wheeled her through a series of doors, the bright lights almost blinding him as he followed the crowd.

Kate was the one to stop him.

'Noah, she's going straight into surgery. You know you can't follow her,' she said sadly.

'I promised her she would be okay,' he said, watching them rush her down the hall towards a set of large grey doors.

'And she will be. She's in the best possible hands,' Kate assured him. 'We did our best, now it's their turn. But you're going to have to get comfortable, you're in for a long night.'

He looked at the shorter woman, seeing the sympathy on her face. There was nothing else he could do now.

'What do I do?' He asked quietly.

'The first thing you should do is wash your hands. Then maybe find something to eat or drink, it'll make a world of difference,' she told him, pointing out the closest bathroom.

He nodded slowly, thanking her and numbly following her directions. He barely registered entering the bathroom or locking the door. Looking at himself in the mirror, he felt sick.

His chest was smeared with dried blood, the colour almost brown now. His hands looked the same. With all of his tattoos, the untrained eye probably wouldn't notice, but he did. It was all over him. He looked like he had been the one attacked.

He stepped over to the sink, turning it on high and shoving his hands under the freezing stream, barely noticing the numbing cold.

He spent what felt like hours wetting paper towels and scrubbing the blood off. Soap did little to help, at this point it was flaking off like dried paint. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get it all off. Little flecks stuck to his skin, taunting him.

His breath hitched in his throat as her face flashed through his mind again. Her wide eyes, her failing grip...

His hands gripped the edge of the sink, holding himself up while he tried to hold himself together. This wasn't how he had wanted things to go.

He had dreamed of seeing her again, of being able to clear the air with her. He never wanted anything to happen to her, no matter how mad he had been. He felt abandoned by her, but over the years he had come to terms with his part in the way things had ended.

A part of him felt responsible. After all the horrible things he had said in the heat of the moment, the things he had said when he was mad about her leaving...

He wished he could take it all back. His heart squeezed, feeling like it was being torn out of his chest. His lip curled back over his clenched teeth, trying to hold back the guttural scream that begged to rip through his body.

Tears dripped from his face, hitting the porcelain sink with a quiet thud. He released the sink from his white knuckled grip, stepping back and leaning against the wall.

Silently, he prayed to whatever deity that was listening. He prayed for her survival, pleading with invisible forces to keep her safe. She deserved better than to die like this.

'Please,' he whispered, his voice cracking as he choked back a sob. 'Please don't let her die.'

Noah slid down the wall slowly, pulling his legs up to his chest and digging his nails into his shins.

There was so much he wanted to say to her. So many things he wanted to apologise for and so many things he needed to make right. Her words echoed over and over in his mind. Her gasping voice, the shuddering breaths as she gripped his hand, her grip growing weaker...

"I still love you... I need you to know that..."

'I never stopped either.'

***

She looked like hell. The bruises had finally formed into a sickly purple colour, blooming across her legs and stomach. Her leg and her hands were tightly bandaged, dressings covered the wound on her chest.

She had been lucky. The object in her chest had been the blade of a push knife. Somehow it snapped off its handle, lodging between two of her ribs. Every movement had torn her up more, and dragging herself over the fence had driven it in deep.

The surgery took hours, most of which Noah had spent sitting on the floor as close to the OR doors as he could get. His wrists were almost raw from wringing them with anxiety, and his chest still hurt from how hard his heart had been pounding all night.

Now, he sat by her bedside and watched her breathe. The IV above her bed trickled antibiotics into her system, and leads and cables ran in organised chaos up to the machine that monitored her vital signs.

Y/N's skin was still pale, but her fingertips and lips weren't blue anymore. Dark circles surrounded her eyes, adding to the sunken look of her face. A cannula was taped to her face, helping her breathe. She looked like shit, to put it lightly.

The police had come through a couple of times to see if she was awake and take her statement, leaving a card with Noah to call them when she finally woke up. They had already found the guys who did it to her. If she hadn't kicked one of them, they may have gotten away with it.

The idiots ended up at the same hospital as her. They came in, one of them with a few facial fractures, and the police picked them up.

That didn't mean Noah was going to leave though. From the moment she was put in a bed, he stayed by her side waiting for her to wake up. He sat for hours, his back aching from the awful chair and his legs going numb. He wanted to hold her hand, but he wasn't sure if he should. She looked so fragile that he worried he would only hurt her more.

It wasn't until the sun set on LA again that she finally woke up.

'I can feel you staring,' she said quietly, her eyes staying closed.

Noah swallowed the gasp that wanted to come out. He forced a chuckle, picking at his fingernails again. 'Sorry,' was all he could manage to say. 'How are you feeling?'

'Like I got stabbed,' she said with a sour laugh, gritting her teeth when she laughed. Her hand slowly moved to her ribs, her fingertips feeling around for the wound.

'It was a push knife. The idiot still had the handle in his pocket when they arrested him. He must have stabbed you before you even ran from them,' Noah said, looking up at her. Her eyes were open, staring back at him with a look of disbelief that made his stomach twist.

'Why did you stay?' she asked. 'You could have gone home.'

Noah shook his head, swallowing hard and looking down at his fingers again. Her blood still coloured his cuticles, trapped in the tiny creases of his skin and under his nails.

'Not after that. I couldn't...' he said, his breath hitching in his throat.

'Just say it, I know you're thinking it,' she told him, her weak voice teasing him slightly.

Noah took a deep breath. He couldn't look at her, he was too scared of her answer. 'Did you mean it? Or did you just say it because you thought you were going to die?'

'Did you mean it when you called me "Baby"?' she shot back. Her tone was sharper than it was meant to be. She saw him shrink on himself, kicking herself for the way she was handling it.

Noah didn't respond, instead chewing on his lip.

Y/N sighed softly. 'Yes, okay? I meant it. But I can't be in that position again. I can't watch you waste your life with whisky and weed and pretend to be okay with it. Last night hurt less than quarantine did.'

'I'm sorry. And you're right,' he said, finally looking up at her. 'I pushed you away. I felt like I was only going to drag you down or be an obstacle for you, I felt like I was getting in the way of your goals. You kept taking a back seat to the band and I knew you were miserable, so I pushed you out. I was wrong, and I regret it every day.'

She swallowed, nodding slowly. Her eyes drifted down to his hands, seeing the blood under his fingernails. His fingers were red, he had picked his skin raw and the sight drove a pang of guilt into her stomach.

'I appreciate your apology,' she said, 'and I appreciate you being there for me last night, but I don't know what to do from here.'

He nodded, breathing deeply. 'For what it's worth, I've been sober for three years. I gave it all away, I hated who I was becoming.'

Her head cocked and her eyebrows raised, looking at him in disbelief. 'Seriously?'

'Yeah. When I realised you weren't coming back, I knew I'd fucked up. I found myself striving to be someone you'd be proud of.'

'I was always proud of you, Noah. I just couldn't watch you self destruct out of boredom when I was right there to help you.'

'I know that now,' he told her, knitting his fingers together. 'Believe me, I know, and I'm so fucking sorry.'

With a sad smile, Y/N patted the bed, offering for him to come and sit by her. Noah's lip twitched as he stood, cautiously shifting onto the bed. He sat by her hip, facing her. She gingerly took his hand, wishing the bandages on her hands were gone.

'So what do you want?' She said, looking up at him.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean, if you could have it your way, where would this go?' she asked. 'Clearly there's something that you want.'

Noah paused, searching her eyes. He remembered the last time she looked at him this way. The night she left, she looked at him with desperation like this. Begging him to tell her to stay, pleading him to say he didn't mean it, that he still wanted her...

His stomach twisted as he took her hand between his, his eyes misting over.

'I want you to come home,' he told her quietly, staring at their entwined fingers. 'I've wanted you to come home since you left. I never should have let you walk out that door.'

'So why did you?' Y/N asked, her throat closing around her words. 'I gave you so many chances to stop me, and you let me go.'

'Because I was an idiot, and I'll never forgive myself for that.' He paused, shaking his head. 'If I had fought for you maybe this wouldn't have happened.'

'Hey, don't go there,' she told him, instinctively reaching for his face. Her fingers trailed across his cheek. Noah saw the number on the screen rise as her pulse sped up, his heart matching hers as it fluttered in his chest.

They sat frozen for a moment, their eyes locked. Her eyes were brimmed with tears, her lips parted. Her fingers began to retreat from his skin, but Noah's hand rose to cover hers, holding it to his face.

'Please, don't let go,' he whispered, leaning into her touch.

Y/N forced a deep breath, her throat tightening. The tears dribbled over, running down her face as she watched him. His eyes closed for a moment, letting himself linger in her touch.

'Give me a reason not to,' she said quietly, begging him.

Noah's eyes opened, his bloodshot hazel eyes staring deep into hers and his lip quivering.

'Because I still love you.'

He gently took her hand from his face, holding it over his heart. She could feel his pulse hammering against his chest, even through his shirt and the bandages.

'I can't promise it'll be perfect,' he told her, 'but I can promise that it'll never be the way that it was. We might fight, we might have days where we hate each other, but I promise you that no matter what I will always love you. At the end of the day, I will always come back to you. I can promise that you'll never be alone again.'

She pursed her lips, sniffing back tears. 'That's all I ever wanted from you,' she whimpered.

'And I'm sorry that it took me so long to see it.' He lifted his other hand to her cheek, wiping a tear from her face. 'Please, come home baby.'

'You know it's going to be hard, right? You're going to have to help me a lot for a while...'

'And I'll do it with a smile on my face,' he chuckled morosely. 'Anything is better than not having you.'

Y/N smirked weakly at him, squeezing his fingers. 'You know, I have an apartment that I can't just get rid of, I'm most of the way through a lease-'

'Oh my god,' he chuckled, 'you're really making me fight you right now?'

'Show me how bad you want me back,' she said with a tired smile.

With a smirk, he leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to hers. Her hand returned to his cheek and his fingers tilted her chin up. Their lips melded together like long lost puzzle pieces. Warmth bloomed in Noah's stomach at the feeling of her against him.

'Whatever you want, it's yours. I'll tattoo your name on my face, or write songs about you, or quit the damn band,' he whispered, his face hovering above hers, 'is that bad enough?'

'How about you just kiss me again and we'll call it even?' Y/N breathed, her stomach flipping as his eyes lit up. His grin made her heart flutter, the screen above the bed giving away her feelings.

Noah chuckled, kissing her again. He was careful not to hurt her, but years of longing poured into the kiss. Her fingers tangled into his hair, melting into him.

'I love you, so fucking much,' she said softly between kisses.

'I love you more.'

***

EPILOGUE

Her rasping, staggered breaths echoed in his ears. Her grip, once tight, slowly weakened; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wake her.

The crimson pools dribbled from her body, the vicious wounds marring her skin as she laid on the stark white tile.

'Noah,' she whimpered, her eyes wide. Her body spasmed, shaking violently as she bled out.

'No, please. Stay with me,' he begged, 'stay with me baby, I've got you.'

The terror in her eyes made Noah sick. He wanted to stop it, to fix it, but he couldn't.

Instead he was forced to watch her die. Again.

She choked on her breath as her eyes glassed over. Any strength in her fingers faded, her hand falling slowly from his and landing in the pool of blood with a sickening splash.

'No,' Noah cried, 'no, Y/N, please! Come back! Y/N!'

A gentle hand on his shoulder began to drag him back, leaving her dead on the floor. He screamed, thrashing against the new hand's grip.

'No! No, please! Help her!'

'Noah!' A voice called to him. 'Noah, come on baby.'

His eyes flew open as he sat bolt upright in the bed. Droplets of sweat covered his body and his chest heaved as he stared into the darkness. His heart pounded in his chest, the blood pumping in his ears and almost drowning out the soft voice in the room.

His eyes adjusted quickly, searching for the source of the sound. Y/N sat to his side, her hand gingerly on his shoulder.

'Hey, it's okay,' she soothed, 'it was just a nightmare, baby. It's alright.'

He panted as he stared at her in the darkness. She was okay, there was no blood, no wounds. Noah wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. Her arms locked around him, her fingers running through his hair gently while he trembled.

'You're okay,' he breathed, 'thank god, you're okay.' He forced himself to breathe deeply, letting her fill his senses. Her soft breath in his ear, her fingers in his hair, her sweet smell...

'I'm alright, baby. It was just a bad dream,' she assured him. 'It's over now.'

Noah nodded tensely, nosing into her neck and closing his eyes. It had been six months and the memories were only just starting to fade. The scars on her skin had faded to a deep pink, and one day they would turn white. She still covered them, struggling to look at them, but he could feel the lump of scar tissue on her chest as he held her close.

'I'm sorry,' he said quietly, 'It was so real. For a second, you were gone again...' His eyes fell to the scar on her ribs. He could see it peeking out of the side of the oversized singlet she had stolen from him. She slept better wearing his shirt, and he wasn't going to deny her that comfort.

Y/N pulled back, shaking her head and taking his face in her hands. 'Noah, baby, look at me. It wasn't real, I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere, okay? I promise.'

She ran her thumbs lightly across his cheeks, his hands moving to hold her wrists. In the dim light of the moon, she could see the tears in his eyes as the terror faded away.

'I love you,' she said, locking her eyes with his. 'Take a deep breath for me.'

Noah did as she asked, breathing in through his nose and exhaling heavily out his mouth. Y/N released his face, sliding her hands into his and squeezing gently. She lifted one to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

'I love you,' she said again.

'I love you more,' he told her, lifting her other hand to his heart and resting his forehead on hers.

'Enough to fight for me?'

'Always.'

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #bad omens #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens cult #bad omens band #badomens #badomenscult

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scoonsalicious · 6 months ago

Text

7.1 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, discussion of feelings, nudity, mentions of some sexy stuff.

Word Count: 3.2k

Previously On...: Idk; it's been so long. Who can even remember? Just kidding-- Bucky blew off his plans for a 'friend-date' with Lily to talk to you about what happened that morning.

A/N: And we're back!

Hi, besties! I confess to not getting as much writing done as I had hoped on my break-- cursed writer's block! Then, last night, I ended up scrapping most of the writing I did do and started over, lol. However, I've got a bit of a back log again, and a four day weekend starting tonight, and now that I feel reinvigorated with the story, we'll be able to resume our regularly scheduled program!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You pulled up to the destination Bucky had sent you as dusk was falling. Langston Park. A weird spot for dinner, you thought, but you’d double-checked the location with Bucky, and he’d assured you that you were in the right place.

Glancing at your map, you noticed that the pin he’d sent you was a little ways up a trail. You parked your truck and double checked your bag to make sure you had your pepper spray at the ready– not that you were afraid that Bucky was going to harm you– just that, a woman alone in the woods at dusk? You could never be too careful. It actually went against your better judgment to go in there at all, but you trusted that Bucky wouldn’t lead you into danger.

If I do come across something unexpected, you thought to yourself, please let it be the bear.

You cautiously made your way up the trail, using the nearly useless flashlight feature on your phone to keep yourself from tripping over anything. It was difficult adjusting your eyesight from the bright light of the map you were following on your phone screen to the darkness gathering around you. After you’d been walking for about fifteen or so minutes, you had to turn left to go off-trail, cutting off your access to the dwindling daylight even more. You gently pushed branches of leaves aside as you made your way through the woods, until you noticed a soft, orange glow coming from up ahead of you.

When you broke through the tree line, your breath caught in your throat. The pin Bucky had sent you had led you to a small clearing nestled along a stream, with a melodious waterfall cascading down into a pool that held a handful of floating lanterns. The entire clearing was lit with hanging lanterns that gently swayed from the branches of the surrounding trees, washing the entire space with low, warm light. Spread out on the ground was a large blanket with some throw pillows, extra blankets, and a picnic hamper. And in the center of the clearing, crouched Bucky. He’d appeared to have just finished setting up his phone to stream some soft music. The entire tableau was the most romantic thing you’d ever seen.

“Hey,” you called softly as you turned your flashlight off, dropped your phone into your bag, and made your way into the clearing.

Bucky stood and turned to face you, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Major, hi,” he breathed. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Did you do all this for me?” you asked in awe as you looked around, taking in your surroundings. You could feel a lump form in the back of your throat, and you had to actively tell yourself not to cry. No one had ever done anything so absolutely romantic for you in your entire life. Not once had Connor ever made a fraction of the effort Bucky had made tonight.

Bucky’s face took on a look of panic. “Is it too much?” he asked, nervously glancing around as though he were trying to judge it anew through your eyes to see what you might find wrong with it.

You smiled, reaching for his hand to offer a squeeze of reassurance. “It’s lovely,” you said. “No one has ever done something so amazing for me, Bucky. Thank you.”

Bucky visibly relaxed at your words. “Figured I owed you something special, to make up for this morning.” He motioned to the blanket, guiding you to sit down with him. “I brought dinner,” he said, opening up the basket. Inside were several subs, a couple of bottles of lemonade, and a few bags of chips. “Sweet onion teriyaki chicken with cucumbers, extra pickles, and red wine vinegar,” Bucky said, handing you a sandwich. You held the sandwich to you for a moment, your chest filling with warmth at the fact that he’d remembered your offhand comment about your favorite sandwich.

You put the wrapped sub down on the blanket in front of you. “Could we talk before we eat?” you asked him. “I’ve got some things I want to clear up first.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, putting down the sandwich he had gotten for himself and looked up at you through his lashes. “Go ahead, sugar,” he said.

You took a breath. “I get why you didn’t tell Lily about me,” you said slowly. “It’s new, and we’re not even really anything. So, what’s there to tell her, really? Plus, she and I didn’t really have the best first impressions of one another, so that part, I understand. What I don’t get is why you felt you needed to lie about being out on a date at all.” Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but you weren’t finished.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how many calls I got toward the end of my marriage that went just like the one you had with Lily last night. All the times Connor assured me he was just “out with the boys,” when, in reality, he was with his mistress. So, I guess, hearing you tell Lily you were with Sam for a ‘guys’ night’ was kind of triggering.” You sighed, heaving your shoulders. “I need to know, and I need you to be honest with me: Is there something going on between the two of you? Is that why you felt the need to lie to her about being out with me?”

Bucky shook his head vehemently and made a face of mild disgust. “Major, no– there’s never been anything between us,” he said. “I won’t lie, Lily is very important to me– as a friend– she was the first new one I made in almost eighty years, and she stuck by me when I was going through a really difficult time in my life, when I really hadn’t given her much of a reason to, but in terms of anything romantic, or sexual? Never.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. He seemed sincere, though if you had been a good judge of when a man you had feelings for was lying to your face, your marriage to Connor would probably only have been a fraction as long as it was.

“Alright,” you said, choosing in the moment to believe him, “so, if you’re as close as you say, and there’s nothing romantic between the two of you, it makes it even stranger that you lied to her about being out on a date last night.”

Bucky looked down, toying with a loose thread on the blanket you both sat on. “At the time,” he said, not looking up at you, “not telling her the truth seemed like a good idea. It didn’t really cross my mind that I was lying… more like ‘just not telling her the truth yet.’ I was really looking forward to seeing you again, doll,” he told you, his eyes now rising to meet yours, “ and telling Lil… well, it felt like I was needlessly complicating things."

You let out an exasperated sigh. “None of that explains to me the why behind it, Bucky,” you said. “Why would telling your best friend complicate things?

“I just didn’t want her getting involved in our business before the two of us even knew what our business was,” he said, as if that made everything clear.

“But, shouldn’t your best friend knowing your business be, I dunno, a good thing?” you asked him in frustration, wanting to reach out and shake him. You felt like you were going around in circles. “Shouldn’t she be happy for you?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “Of course she’ll be happy for me. It’s just…” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Lily’s always had… opinions about every girl I’ve ever dated, and she’s never made it a point of keeping them to herself. I mean, most of the time, she ends up being spot on, and the relationship flops, but this…” he moved to place his hand over yours where it rested on the blanket, “with you? I wanted to enjoy it before she makes those opinions known.”

You turned your hand over and squeezed his. The full truth of the situation had clicked into place for you at his words, and the realization brought both intense clarity and an all too familiar heartache. “All my life, I’ve been… impulsive,” you told him. “I jump head first into things, without thinking about the consequences. It’s how I got into the Army, ended up with Connor, hell, even how I started my business. Sometimes it works out, but…” you heaved a sigh, “usually it tends to blow up spectacularly in my face. I don’t want this to blow up in my face, Bucky.”

The confusion in Bucky’s face as he took in your words was evident. “What are you saying, doll?” he asked.

You took a moment, considering your next words carefully. “I… I really like you,” you began as a wide grin broke out across his face. “Probably more than I should for a person I just met a few days ago, but the truth of it is, I’ve seen this story play out before, and I’m not sure I could handle opening my heart to you, only to have you leave me for the best friend you swore I’d never have to worry about.”

Bucky took both your hands in his own, a look of desperation crossing his face. “Sugar,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Major. I don’t know how many other ways I can tell you that I just don’t see Lily that way,” he said. “Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any dame the way I see you. You’ve got me feeling all kinds of ways I’ve never felt before.”

His words were sweet, and you felt your heart soften, but you had to remind yourself: you’d heard words just like it before. “Look,” you said, pulling your hands away from his, “maybe you don’t , but it seems pretty obvious, even as an outsider, that her feelings for you are stronger than just friendship. I don’t want to lose my heart to you if you’re going to realize that you belong with someone you’ve known for years, instead of a one-night stand that went on for too long.”

Bucky reeled back as if you’d slapped him and closed his eyes in a grimace. “That is never,” he began, a pained expression clouding his handsome face, “ever all that you could be to me, Major.” When he opened them again, his eyes were boring into yours, the blue gone cobalt in the growing night. “I’m not going to wake up one day and decide I want to be with Lily. I’ve had four years in close proximity with her for those feelings to develop, and they never have. I honestly can’t see why that would change, especially now that I’ve met you.”

God, you wanted to believe him, but you’d already played this role and it had nearly destroyed you, despite how nonchalantly you acted about it. “Does she know that, Bucky? Because, to be completely honest with you, on the night we met, both Nat and Wanda advised me not to get involved with you, because of her.”

His face blanched at the admission. “What?! Why would they say that?”

“They warned me,” you clarified, hoping that you weren’t betraying any trust with your new friends and only feeling mildly bad that you were divulging Lily’s secret, “that Lily wasn’t a ‘girl’s girl;’ she was a ‘Bucky’s girl,’ only, you didn’t know it.”

“But she–” he spluttered, “she– we– she never– she’s never said anything. She’s never acted…” He was at a loss for words, and you could tell that the information had genuinely taken him by surprise. Despite what Lily may feel for him, it didn’t seem like he ever suspected it.

“Maybe I should leave you to think that over,” you said, making motions to start standing up. “Thanks for the sandwich.” Before you could even get your legs under you, though, Bucky reached out a hand and grabbed your wrist.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, gently tugging you back down to the blanket. “Why are you leaving?”

You shrugged, confused. “I figured you’d want some time,” you told him. “Decide what you want to do about her feelings.”

Bucky looked at you like you were crazy. “Doll, in what world do any feelings Lily may have about me concern how I feel about you?”

“I just assumed…” you began, but he interrupted you.

“Assumed what? That just because she’s got a crush on me, I’m gonna ignore this thing between you and I? That I’m gonna develop feelings for her, outta nowhere, I might add, and just forget all about you?”

You shrugged your shoulders sheepishly. “Yeah, actually,” you said.

“You idiot,” Bucky said, shaking his head with a gentle smile and a soft laugh. He put a hand behind your head and pulled you forward until your foreheads were leaning together. “I sincerely mean this when I tell you I don’t give a fuck about Lily’s feelings,” he said.

You both widened your eyes at the perceived callousness of the statement.

“Fuck,” Bucky backpedaled, backing his head away from yours a little “that came out soundin’ awful, and definitely not how I meant it.” He ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Of course I care about her feelings– she’s my friend– I just mean… shit. Just, obviously, I feel bad if me not reciprocatin’ hurts her, but there’s nothin’ I can really do for it, y’know? Because it doesn’t change my feelings, and it’s not gonna change my feelings.

And shit, you believed him.

“You know what?” Bucky said, as if an idea had suddenly come to him. “Here.” He reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out his military dog tags. Lifting them over his head, he slowly draped them around your neck.

“Bucky,” you said, fingering the embossed metal, “what…?”

“Think of it this way,” he said, “you, of all people, know what these tags mean to a soldier. Since I came outta cryo, came back to myself, not a single person has worn them, ‘cept for me. I’ve had girlfriends ask– hell, Lily’s asked– but it never felt right.” He brushed a strand of hair back from where it had fallen into your face when you’d looked down at the tags. “But with you, it feels right. So, if you’re afraid that I’m gonna up and decide that I’d rather be with Lily, or fuck, anyone else but you, I want you to look at those tags and remember that you’re the one I’m picking, Major.”

You swallowed. You did know what those tags meant. Commitment. Trust. An unbreakable bond. Wordlessly, you reached around to the back of your neck, unclasping the chain that rested against your skin.

Bucky watched your motions carefully. “Yeah,” he said, licking his lips nervously, “that was probably me moving too fast, huh? I get it– you don’t have to wear them if—”

“Shut up,” you said gently, as you removed your own dog tags from around your neck and fastened them around his. “I don’t need to wear two sets, and your neck looked so lonely without one.”

Bucky held up one of the tags so that he could examine it, and you caught the moment he registered your name and information catching the candlelight.

“Sugar,” he said, his voice cracking on the nickname.

“You’re not the only one making a choice, Bucky,” you assured him.

He leaned in closer, taking your lips with his own, the kiss filled with the fire you’d come to associate with him, and only him.

When you pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, and you could make out the glassy sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

You admired the way they hung from his neck for a moment, and were overcome with the sudden urge to touch them. You placed a hand over the dog tags, your name, now resting over his pounding heart. Bucky cupped his own hand over yours, pressing it against his chest.

“These look awfully handsome on you, Sergeant,” you told him with a soft smile. Bucky let out a low groan and you looked up at him, eyes questioning. “What is it?” you asked him.

Bucky’s face turned bashful and he shook his head. “Nuh uh,” he said. “Forget it.”

Oh, you weren’t going to have any of that. “Come on, Bucky,” you said, playfully poking him in his rock hard stomach. “You can tell me anything. I’m wearing your tags now,” you added in a singsong voice. “We’re practically going steady.”

Bucky’s gaze on you darkened, and he tugged at his lip with his teeth. “Okay then, if you’re sure you really wanna know.” You mirrored him, biting your lip and nodded eagerly. Of course you wanted to know what was going through his head to cause him to make such sexy sounds. “Just imagining what you’d look like wearing nothing but the tags, sugar,” he responded, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Bet it’d be the prettiest thing I ever saw.”

Well, if you weren’t going to take that as an invitation. Raising an eyebrow in his direction, you got up so that you were standing before him. Bucky moved forward, as if he were going to follow you up, a question ready on his lips, but you leaned down and gently pushed him back to the blanket, so he was propping himself up on his elbows.

Not once breaking eye contact, you slid your hands to the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging it up, over your head before tossing it to the side. Next, you toed off your shoes while you worked the buttons of your jean shorts, letting them slide down your thighs until you were standing in just your balconette and panties. You didn’t even care that you were in the middle of a public park and you were undressing for a man. All that mattered was that you were undressing for this man, and in the moment, you were willing to do almost anything he asked of you.

Bucky’s eyes roamed your body from head to toe and back again, but you weren’t finished. He’d said ‘nothing but the tags,’ after all. Reaching behind your back, you skillfully unhooked your bra, but didn’t pull it off, instead letting it sit on your chest while you slowly shimmined your panties down your thighs and kicking them off to join the rest of your discarded clothes. Bucky’s breath hitched as he took in your near nakedness, and you almost giggled at the visible tenting taking place in his jeans.

Clutching the bra to your chest, as if you were shy, you slowly got down on your knees and crawled up Bucky’s thighs. Finally, you let the bra fall away, and Bucky’s wide eyes never left your breasts as he licked his lips. You palmed him through the fabric of his pants.

“I believe I once said something about wanting this down my throat,” you told him with a wicked smile.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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topgun-imagines · 1 year ago

Text

At Peace

Requested: yes

Summary: Jake comes home after a long day at work to find you asleep during the thunderstorm. He can’t help but join you.

Word count: 0.9k

Warnings: thunderstorms, not really any.

Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader

Large, dark clouds were building steadily above Miramar. After a long day, all Jake wanted was to relax at home with you. He sighed as he watched lightning strike in the distance, his wiper blades working quickly to keep the rain from the windshield. You were waiting for him at home. That though was what made Jake press down on the gas a little harder.

The roads were empty on this rainy night, everyone deciding to stay cooped up inside rather than face the wet, February weather. Thunder cracked loudly, bright lightning flashing only seconds later. The storm was closer than Jake had originally thought. Now, more than ever, he wished he was home with you. He couldn’t wait to spend this rainy winter night with his girl.

There was only eight minutes before Jake was home. The closer he got to your shared house, the rain got heavier and the clouds darkened even more. The once bright blue sky was now a colour akin to black.

Those eight minutes seemed to pass by in a flash. Before he knew it, he was pulling up to the curb in front of your shared home and jumping out of his lifted truck. With quick footsteps, Jake headed into the house. The silence inside had him searching for your normally-bright presence.

When you two first got together, Jake learned that you loved thunderstorms. Every time, without fail, he would find you sitting next to the window, simply watching the lightning flash and the rainfall. Once the two of you got together, that became something that you shared. Oftentimes, you would end up cuddling on the couch, curtains pulled back and lights off to display the beauty of the lightning. The TV would be shut off, allowing you to relish in the clapping of the thunder. During those few hours, you never wanted to move.

Jake searched through the house. He checked the living room, your bedroom, the kitchen and the bathroom in search of you and sighed when he came up empty. Where could you be? With one last-ditch effort, Jake moved toward the back door. It led out onto the deck which had a beautiful view of the beach. Occasionally, a plane could be seen taking off from the base. You would often sit outside when Jake was at work, knowing that one of the planes that you could see in the sky contained your fiancé.

He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him. Curled up under a light, barely there blanket on the white couch was your delicate frame. The breath in his lungs seemed to escape all at once. Your fiancé looked at you in awe. He had never seen you look more beautiful. As silent as possible, Jake pulled open the screen door. He could easily see how peaceful you were. Your chest was rising and falling slowly and your eyes were fluttering as you dreamt. He couldn’t help but snap a quick picture of your peaceful state.

When Jake stepped outside, thunder clapped loudly. Even though most people would have jolted awake, you remained sound asleep. There hadn’t been a storm in a while so, this was the first time in a long time that he had seen you this at peace. You remained sound asleep, even as your fiancé slipped in beside you. As his arm wound around your waist, he was careful not to wake you. Even when he pulled you back into his chest, you didn’t stir.

Jake was nearly asleep when you rolled over. Grinning up at him sleepily, your arms wrapped around his toned midsection as you snuggled closer to him. One of his hands reached up, brushing a few wispy strands of hair away from your face. You seemed to relax even further, eyes slipping shut once more. Then, your fiancé leaned forward and peppered kisses across your forehead. Giggling softly in response, you tucked your face into the crook of his neck to hide from his ministrations.

It was hard to hide his grin as he pressed one last soft kiss to your temple. Thunder clapped above, and yet it couldn’t pull Jake’s eyes away from your soft features. The look of pure love in his eyes was hard to miss and it had you blushing intensely, looking back at his sweater-clad shoulder to avoid his teasing stare. “I love you.” He spoke quietly, thumb rubbing over your temple before he kissed your forehead.

Your eyes closed, revelling in the feeling. Once you whispered those same words back to him, your fiancé pulled you into his chest snugly. His warm palm smoothed over your back, fingers drawing intricate patterns against your soft skin. Content, Jake allowed his head to fall against your shoulder,

Moments later, Jake found himself nodding off against your shoulder. Now he understood why you loved thunderstorms so much. Even though there was thunder clapping harshly overhead and lightning flashing across the sky, Jake couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of calm. When he was racing home to you, he was expecting to find you curled up on the couch, eagerly waiting for him to return to you before the two of you would fall into bed and listen to the sounds above. Instead, he got the opportunity to snuggle with you and feel your soft, smooth skin under his warm palm.

His eyes slipped shut and he allowed sleep to overtake him, content in simply lying here with you, under the violent, yet peaceful skies above.

a/n: Hope you all enjoyed!! Thank you for reading. Requests are open :)

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sports-on-sundays · 8 months ago

Text

our tree / CL16

Summary: Charles x childhood friend!reader - Another little idea.

Warnings: four time skips, little kiss scene, kind of melancholy at the end

Requested?: Take a wild guess.

Author's Note: I hope you read and enjoy, because I'm super proud of this one! 🥹🥹🥹. I actually think I was reading a fantasy book when this one came on me strangely enough.

"Alright, well, make sure to stay together! And stay in the orchard!" your mother called as you and your friend rushed out the door, running to get out the moment your mother said it was okay.

"Okay, Mama!" you called back, slamming the screen door behind you. You and your friend, a light haired boy with bright eyes and the name of Charles, ran together, racing each other automatically, without even establishing it, both of you just being very competitive kids.

Yes, Charles was a competitive kid, alright. Everyone knew that much. Definitely probably more competitive than you, but that wasn't very hard. Charles was more competitive than most people.

The young boy was running so fast, trying to beat you, that he tripped, falling right on his little chubby face. "Charlie!" you gasped, bending down next to your friend. But then you scolded, "Charlie, you gotta be more careful. Remember what Mama told us?"

Charles looked up slowly. He had a little scratch on his cheek and a mark of dirt across his forehead. His bottom lip curved forward for a moment, before he sucked it back, sniffing, refusing to cry. "I'm okay," he assured, pushing himself back up to stand.

"Are you sure?" you asked nervously.

"Of course," the little boy said, brushing himself off, still pouting a little. But he raised his hand to wipe his eyes and continued on.

You frowned. "Your knees are all scraped up. Maybe we should go back to the house..."

"No!" Charles frowned right back. "Come on. I'm okay." He showed his little toothy grin, which wasn't full, as he had a few gaps in his mouth where adult teeth would soon grow in. He held his hand out to you.

You took his little hand in your little hand and said with a little pout, "As long as we just walk now."

"You sound like my mama now!" he groaned, but agreed to it.

The two little kids walked along, until they reached the bottom of the hill that your house stood on and got to the little dirt path that led through the apple trees.

"Can I show my favorite tree, Charlie?"

His tiny little cute nose crinkled up as he asked, "How could you have a- a fav- favorite tree?" At that point, you were much more fluent in your speech than Charles, so some of the bigger words you could say just fine, he struggled with.

You grinned. "Come with me, and I'll show you." You tugged him by his hand, leading him through the orchard, until finally, you reached your tree.

It was tall with spindly dark branches and the biggest, reddest, juiciest apples you'd ever seen. There was a little crevice under it where you fit perfectly, and it's old frame provided a large area of shade.

It felt like a magical tree, and as Charles's big hazel eyes looked up at it, you could tell he saw it, too.

"Can I have an apple off it?" the young boy asked boldly.

You nodded and went to the truck, being, at that time, the taller of the two of you. You slipped your foot in the perfect slot in the tree and hoisted yourself up. You climbed a bit as Charles watched you, picked a big, red, ripe apple out of the tree, and tossed it down to Charles. He caught it and was about to take a big bite out of it, before you said, "Wait a second, Charlie!"

He looked up. "Huh?"

You climbed back down and hopped on the ground, grinning. "Do you know how to clean an apple? Make it super shiny?"

Charles frowned, perplexed. "Without water? No."

You grinned proudly and rubbed your apple on your shirt all around, saying, "It works."

He stared a few seconds, before trying it. "I don't know..." he began, studying the apple.

"Either way, it makes it taste better. That's what my papa told me."

"Alright... can I eat it now?"

You giggled and nodded. "Yeah."

You watched as he took a bite out of it, and his eyes lit up. Apple juice ran down his chin as he exclaimed, "You're right! This is the best apple ever."

You grinned. "See? It's my favorite tree."

He beamed back. "It's mine, too," he responded, avoiding having to say 'favorite' again.

About ten years later

"Y/n!" your mother had called one day from the downstairs floor. "Charles is here!"

You hopped out of your bed as soon as you heard that, slipping on your vest, boots, and backwards cap, before heading down the stairs and went to the door.

There was Charles. You couldn't help but smile when you saw the handsome teenage boy, with his dimples and sparkling eyes. "Hey, Charles. It's been a while."

He shrugged a bit. "I've been really busy with racing and stuff..."

He awkwardly glanced away, so you asked, "Well, do you want to go for a walk in the orchard? I mean, if you have time, of course."

He smiled brightly at that. "Yeah. I'd like that."

You exited the house together, letting the screen door slam behind you. You walked down the hill in silence, but once your feet reached the dirt path through the apple trees, Charles muttered, "I've kind of missed you, a lot. And this orchard. I mean, I don't know. As kids, we used to always play in this orchard. We spent hours here. You know?"

You nod slowly. "Yeah, I get what you mean. Totally... Sometimes, I'm sad I'm growing up. Like, I remember when we were little, and nothing was weird and it all felt normal. We were just happy to have fun."

Charles nodded, seeming slightly relieved that you seemed to think the same way as him. "Yeah. I feel the same way."

As you walked, suddenly your hands brushed each other, and both of you felt your faces heat up as you avoided each other's eyes and were more aware to keep your hands to yourselves.

"So... Is your favorite tree still standing?" Charles asked softly.

You grinned. "Of course it is. Charles, that tree will never fall."

He grinned back at this response and said, "So I'm assuming the apples are still good as ever?"

"For sure. Want one? We can go down to it."

Charles grinned even wider at this and said, "Yeah, let's go."

When you reached the tree, you stood on your tip toes, trying to reach an apple to pick for Charles, but suddenly he laughed, saying teasingly, "Here, I'll get it." He grinned and reached up, easily picking the apple. He looked down at you with a smirk. "Now I'm taller than you, huh? You used to be the taller one."

You rolled your eyes. "Charles, boys always get taller than girls in the end."

He shrugged and commented teasingly, "Should I rub it on my shirt? Does that clean it off?"

You blushed, glancing away, feeling embarrassed butterflies in your stomach at his little teasing. "No, no. That's just a stupid little thing."

He chuckled more and took a bite, shutting his eyes, savoring the sweet taste. "Just as good as I remember it," he commented with a grin.

You smiled, kind of nervous to ask this, but said softly, "Uh... Can you pick one for me?"

He grinned. He loved to be able to help you, and immediately picked one for you. You stood by the big tree, eating your apples, before Charles finally said, sounding more tense than before, "Hey, uh... Y/n? Can I say something kind of weird to you? Like, I mean, serious stuff, now..."

You blinked, looking up at him with a concerned look in your eyes. "What is it?"

He sighed and gestured for you to sit down under the tree together. So you sat side by side in the shade, and he murmured, "So... I just wanted to say sorry."

"For what?" you asked in surprise.

"I don't know. With all my racing, we never get to see each other anymore. But I think about you a lot..." He trailed off, avoiding your eyes as his cheeks flushed. "Like, you're on my mind a lot, I mean."

You nod slowly. "I think about you a lot, too..."

He swallowed and muttered, "I know this probably won't mean much in the end, but... I think I kind of like you."

Your head shot up, your eyes wide. "You... Like, like like?"

"Yeah. Like, really like. A lot. More than..."

"More than friends?"

"More than friends," he confirmed, nervously fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie.

You glanced up at each other at the same time. And Charles, without another thought, leaned in and gave you an awkward kiss on your cheek.

Your whole faces flushed as Charles blurted, "Sor- Sorry."

"It's... It's okay," you murmured in embarrassment. "I feel the same way, too, I think..."

About ten years later; current time

Your mother slams open the screen door with a big smile on her face, saying, "What a surprise this is! Look at this- my daughter and son-in-law!"

Charles chuckles a bit, letting go of your hand as you go to hug your mother as he says, "Not son-in-law yet."

"Yes, yes, Charles," your mother says quickly, as if it's clearly obvious the two of you are going to marry each other anyway, so he's basically already her son-in-law. "So," she turns to you with a big smile. "What made you decide to just show up all of the sudden?"

You shrug with a smile, looking back to Charles. After hugging your mother, you connect your hand right away back with Charles's. "The other night we were just kind of thinking about, you know. The old days. Playing in the orchard. And my favorite tree, and everything. And we figured, why not make the trip here to go for a walk through it again?"

"Oh, and not even to see your mother!" she scoffs with a playful smile, saying, "Come here, Charles. I haven't seen you in quite a while." Charles laughs and gives your mother a little hug as well.

"Mama," you say with a little smile. "Do you mind if me and Charles just go for a walk in the orchard? Then we'll be right back to the house to visit?"

She smiles understandingly, and nods. "Yeah, you two go on. And take your time," she says with a wink, "because maybe once you get back, the apple pie I'm making will be ready."

You grin and say, "Let's go! Your pie is the best!"

Charles laughs, entwining his fingers in yours, saying, "Thank you, Mrs. Y/l/n. We'll see you in a bit." He waves as we begin walking down the hill together, swinging our connected hands a little as we walk.

It has rained recently, though, so the ground down the hill is a little slick. So suddenly, your foot slides forward, and you squeal, bracing yourself to feel your bottom hit the ground hard-

But Charles's hands are there, on your back and the bottoms of your thighs. He says with a chuckle, "I've got you." He pulls you up and links his arm with you to steady you more as you finish walking down the hill.

When you make it to the path, neither of you guide the other toward your tree, because now, after all these years, you both know exactly how to get there.

You're not sure when 'Y/n's tree' became 'Y/n and Charles's tree', but either way, you like that it's kind of like both of yours now.

When you reach it, Charles immediately reaches up to pick out two of the best apples on the tree. You sit down together under the shade, not caring if your bums get a little wet, and Charles eyes you teasingly as he begins rubbing it on his shirt.

You chuckle. "It does make it more shiny."

"Rubs the dirt off," he comments, taking a bite out of it.

You sit together, eating your apples. Charles has his arm around your back, and you lean against his shoulder. Once you're both finished, Charles comments, "Taste of my childhood."

You grin. "It's just an apple."

"No, but the apples from our magical tree don't just taste like any ordinary apples, and you've always known that."

You chuckle a little. "Good point." You love that little childish side of him.

After a few moment of silence, Charles says softly, "Do you think we have a few minutes to spare before we start walking back up to the house for some of that apple pie?"

You shrug. "Probably. Why?"

He leans in closer and says softly, "Because I wouldn't mind licking some of that apple juice off your sweet lips."

You giggle a little, rolling your eyes, but shift closer to him.

With one hand caressing your cheek and the other gripping the nape of your neck, pulling you in closer, he presses his lips against yours in a heated French kiss. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth. When he finally pulls away, there's a hungry look in his eyes, and he doesn't even seem to realize the string of saliva connecting your mouths.

You let out a little breathy gasp, murmuring (and admittedly probably ruining the moment a bit), "Ew..." as you wipe your mouth to break the trail of saliva between the two of you.

He chuckles a bit and murmurs, "You're adorable. You know that? I just want to have you all to myself. Do what I want to do to y-"

"Hey, hey..." you giggle, patting his thigh a little. "Can't get too carried away, can we? We've got pie to get to eating inside."

"Right," he smiles, taking your hand and standing up with you.

"But maybe when we get home. How does that sound?"

He nods, bringing you closer to himself. "That sounds good. I look forward to it."

About ten years later (warning: just chose a random name for the girl)

You slam open the screen door, holding your little toddler in your arms, saying, "Say bye bye to Grandmama."

Your mother laughs as your daughter waves her chubby little fist and says, "Bye, bye, G'andmama..."

You walk outside onto the porch, where Charles is already standing, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking out at the orchard.

You smile, putting a hand on his back. "Want to take Viola out for a walk in the orchard? Would you like that, sweetie?" you add, looking to the little girl.

"Yes!" squeals the baby, squirming to be put down.

You set her down on the porch, and Charles takes her little hand with a smile. You take her other hand, and the three of you begin walking down the hill together.

Halfway down, Viola slips, but both your hands holding hers keeps her from falling. Charles chuckles and says, "Be careful, sweetheart."

She just giggles, tugging her parents toward the little dirt path at the bottom of the hill. When you reach the bottom, Charles says gently, "Want to see me and Mama's favorite tree, Viola? It grows the best apples in the world."

You laugh as your daughter looks up at her father with big, wide hazel eyes- same as her father's. "The best?"

"Oh, yeah. You won't want to eat any other apples, ever again, after you try these."

You smile. "I grabbed a knife before we left to cut it up for her."

Charles smiles, giving you a little kiss on your cheek as you hand him the knife. "Good idea. You're so thoughtful. And considerable. I wouldn't ever had thought to do that."

"Mama! Papa! C'mon!" your baby whines, and you both laugh, following the toddling little girl down the little dirt path of both your childhoods.

When you reach the tree, this time, Charles reaches up and picks three apples. "It's kind of a magical tree, isn't it, Viola?" he asks with a little smile as he hands you an apple.

But she doesn't respond, and instead stares at Charles in slightly disturbed confusion.

You chuckle, looking to see Charles rubbing the apple on his shirt. He laughs and explains, "It makes the apple shiny, Viola."

"Really?" she asks with wide eyes.

"For sure," Charles respond, exchanging a little look with you. Then you and Charles sit down together under the tree, and your daughter comes over and climbs on Charles's lap, watching as he cuts some thin slices off Viola's apple. "Here," he says, handing one to the little girl.

Her eyes widen even further when she tastes the sweet fruit, and she giggles, "The best!"

"I know!" Charles grins excited, ruffling her hair a bit, which is the color of your hair.

You smile, leaning against his shoulder, watching as your daughter in his lap raves and giggles about the apple.

And, then, Charles starts talking.

He talks about how he used to play with you all the time when you were little.

He tells his daughter how when he was a younger teenager, he began to fall in love with you, but with all his racing, he couldn't see you much and come to the orchard.

He tells her how when he was an older teenager, he confessed how he felt to you.

And how after that, you and him got closer and closer.

Until years later, you had your wedding.

And now here she is, your little girl.

You swallow, suddenly feeling emotional about the story. The story of your lives together.

"Papa...?" Viola says, concerned. "How come Mama...?" she trails off.

Charles looks at you and smiles. "Are you crying, baby?" he teases softly, wiping a tear from your cheek.

You chuckle. "I guess I just like to hear you telling the story."

He chuckles and kisses your cheek, murmuring, "I love you."

You lean into him further with a little smile and shut your eyes, listening as Charles and your daughter continue babbling softly with each other.

Here, in the shade of your tree.

Our tree.

Someday, your daughter will show her friends your tree. And that screen door will never stopped being slammed shut.

But someday after that, you and Charles will grow older, together. Your tree won't always be there. Someday, you'll eat the last of it's apples, and it will say farewell to this world, just like everything else does.

But by then, your love won't need something to symbolize it in order to stay alive.

Because love is the one thing that will never end.

It goes on forever.

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find-roronoa-zoro · 7 months ago

Text

Zoro X CisFem Reader

It had been a long time since you'd even visited your home town. College and then running one of the foreign branches of the family business kept you away and plenty busy. Recently your adopted father was diagnosed with cancer and the family decided it would be best to send a trusted friend to take over your branch while you moved back home with your brothers to help take care of the old man. It was extremely hard for you to accept that he wouldn't be around forever, and you were only in your early thirties, too young to say goodbye to your only parent.

Stepping off the train platform your eyes combed the small crowd awaiting arrivals until you spotted a familiar tuft of blond hair. His lopsided smile grew when he caught sight of you.

"My twin!" you called wrapping your arms around his neck.

You weren't actually twins or even related by blood, but you were close in age and your birthdays were in the same month, so they were always celebrated together. You'd known Marco since the orphanage, he refused to be separated from you which deterred a lot of potential parents until Pops came along.

"I missed you too, yoi." he murmured returning your embrace, "Are you ready to see the babies?""Yes!" you practically squealed, "I can't believe they are all men now."

'The babies' was an annoying term of endearment you had for your three younger brothers. They hated it, so of course it stuck.

"Luffy just started second year at uni, Sabo aims to graduate in December and well you know Ace wasn't cut out for school, so he's been helping Thatch and I run things." the blond explained ushering you into his truck.

"I'm so excited to see everyone." you breathed, "How's Pops?"

"He has good days and bad days, yoi," he glanced at you with a soft smile, "today's a good day."

It was just a fifteen-minute drive to the house you more or less grew up in. The willows that lined the long driveway had gotten fuller in the time you'd been away, and the breeze here always seemed sweeter.

"I'll grab your bags, you can head inside, yoi." Marco instructed.

You hopped out of the truck and made your way up the path that led to the from porch. A mixture of excitement and nerves churned in your gut. You were ready to be reunited with your family but also nervous to see what state your father might be in.

Before you could even get to the first step the screen door burst open slamming against the side of the house as your youngest brother threw himself at you.

"F/N!" he cried tackling you to the ground.

"Oi Luffy!" another voice called from the house.

It was too late of course, you were flat on your back with your little brother wrapped around your torso.

"You could have seriously hurt her. F/N is no spring chicken ya know." Ace scolded pulling the youngest away from you.

"You really shouldn't point out a lady's age Ace." Sabo added sauntering up to help you off the ground.

"My babies!" you squealed grabbing all three males.

Ace and Sabo groaned hugging you back stiffly while Luffy chuckled and nuzzled into you.

They hadn't changed one bit.

"Quit hogging F/N!" you heard Thatch call from the porch.

No one made you feel as loved as this group of idiots. You released the younger brothers and bounced up the steps to the brunette.

"It's so good to see you. How many years has it been?" he stepped back to look you over.

"Eight." you replied sheepishly, "Sorry it took so long."

"You're a busy woman, don't worry about it." he opened the door for you.

"Do I hear my lovely daughter?" your father's deep voice rumbled through the house.

"The one and only!" you chimed back making your way to the den where he spent most of his time.

Pops sat in his big leather armchair situated so he could see the entire room, including the perfect view of the back yard through the large bay windows that lined the wall in front of him. He smiled so wide the corners of his eyes crinkled as you entered the room. You let out a soft sigh, relieved that he didn't look as ragged as you'd imagined.

"Well don't you look handsome." you smiled leaning in to kiss his cheek.

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest, "Too kind as always lass."

"How are you feeling?" your eyes trailed down the oxygen tubes resting above his snow-white mustache.

"Good enough to give these lads a good whooping if needed." his huge callused hand moved over yours.

You sat with Pops in the den catching up until the sun went down. Most topics were light, memories of your childhood, comparing your younger brother's antics to you, Thatch and Marco.

"So tell me F/N, when do you intend to settle down and give me some grandchildren?"

You frowned.

"C'mon old man. I know you wouldn't be having this conversation with Thatch or Marco."

"Only because no one will want kids with those brats."

"We can hear you, old fart." Marco called passing by.

"I wasn't trying to hide it." Pops called back and turned to you, "You know I won't be around forever and I'd like to see you happy."

"I am happy." you pouted.

"You know what I mean, lass." he tipped your chin up to meet his golden gaze, "I know Shanks will be excited to see you've returned."

"Awe come on Pop's," you groaned, "I'm not going back to that drunken man-child."

"He was the best boyfriend you ever had." Ace commented from the doorway.

"And the coolest!" Luffy added.

"I hate all of you." you grumbled.

________________

Red: Running late!

You groaned staring down at your phone, how very like him.

Red: I can't wait to see you!

Red: ... Please actually wait for me this time.

Me: Just this once and only because you're paying

Red: That's my girl

Me: not your girl sir

With that you slipped your phone into your back pocket and entered the pub. It was rowdy but not too loud. You scanned the room for a comfortable place to wait for your idiot date. Your eyes stopped abruptly at the bar, breath halting as you made very brief eye contact with the most gorgeous specimen the gods had possibly created. Messy green hair complimented his tanned complexion and chestnut iris. A scar cut through his beauty (and left eye) only adding a rugged finesse you were positive no one else could pull off. Before you knew it, you'd floated right up to the counter waiting quietly as other customers stole his attention.

He turned back intending to take your order, right eye widening a fraction as his gaze swayed over your face.

A slight blush adorning his cheeks he cleared his throat, "What can I get ya?"

#The One #zoro roronoa x reader #x reader #one piece #fem reader #slow burn #white beard #shanks

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strangerquinns · 2 years ago

Note

Soft Eddie cuddles and kisses movie night?

- @eddiesprincess86

Eddie Munson x Reader

words: 800+ || theme: fluff

masterlist || stranger things masterlist

When you pulled up to the all-familiar trailer sitting at the back of the park, the night was late with a chill in the air. After working a long double shift at Benny's your head felt heavy and your mind filled with fog. A part of you was honestly surprised that you'd gotten back home without an incident.

You sat there for a few moments before opening the door of the rusty truck you drove and stepped out. The night was so late that the park was blanketed with silence - that the only thing you heard was the scrunch of gravel against your worn sneakers.

You walked up the few steps to the front door and walked inside expecting it to be as silent as the outside. But instead, you were welcomed at the sight of your husband lounging across the sofa. You were surprised as you saw him that you stood frozen for a moment with wide eyes.

"Hey, sweetheart," Eddie spoke, his large doe eyes softening the moment he saw the tired look on your face.

"Hi." You barely spoke over a whisper, as Eddie moved to stand from his position.

He moved around the worn-down coffee table straight to you, his arms stretching out in front of him toward you. You didn't even hesitate as you stepped into his arms embrace and sank into his chest. Eddie's large hands moved along your back as he kept and held you close. He felt the corner of his lips turn up at the soft whimper you made as you nuzzled your face into his chest more.

"Long day?" Eddie asked, even though he knew the answer.

"The longest. The first half was fine, got a nice little rush at lunch. But then the night crowd came in. Must've been some dance up at the school 'cause it was filled with teenagers." You huffed and pulled back, your chest resting on his chest to look up at him. A slight, adorable, pout to your lips. "I lost count of the spilled sodas and fries flying across the diner."

"Awww, babe" Eddie bent down and kissed your pout, "I'm sorry. Should've called, I would've come and scared them all off."

"You worked overnight, I wasn't gonna drag you to come to sit at Benny's."

You stepped out of his warm arms and shrugged off the jacket you'd worn. Eddie watched as you shuffled along the small living room space of your trailer before moving toward the back where your bedroom rested.

"Well, we both have the day off tomorrow, I saw we pop in a movie and just cuddle," Eddie spoke, a lightness to his voice as he followed behind you.

He walked into the room to see you standing in the middle of the bedroom with your waitress uniform gone and you standing in only your underwear. Eddie couldn't stop himself as his eyes traveled along your body with appreciation. Even after the years together - Eddie forever thought of you as the most beautiful person. He slowly walked to you and placed his hands on your hips as you slipped on one of his old band shirts.

"We're probably gonna pass out halfway through." You let out a soft laugh through your nose.

"Let's do it anyway," Eddie spoke before bending down and kissing the space behind your ear.

Eddie gently led you to your bed before moving to the tv that sat on top of your dresser on the wall across from your queen bed. Eddie shuffled through tapes before grabbing one and quickly sliding into the player. You watched as the screen came to life with a blue light before the previews began to play.

"Come 'ere baby," Eddie spoke with a soft gentleness as he reached out for you.

You let him lead you down into the bed where you nestled into his arms. Eddie pulled the comforter over the two of you and made sure your back rested against his chest. You once again sunk into his warmth. Eddie always had a way of making you feel safe even with the simplest touch.

Eddie's lips moved along your neck slowly and gently as the movie began to play. You turned to look at him, your noses touching each other for a moment before his lips pressed to yours. The kiss was light, lips barely touching, but enough to get a taste of each other. Eddie adored the soft moans and whimpers you seemed to make when the two of you got like this. Just need the other close and feel their touch.

"Love you so much, sweetheart," Eddie whispered against your lips, tracing his fingers along your jaw.

"I love you too," You spoke, turning into his more. Your face resting into the curve of his neck, your lips tiredly kissing along his neck.

Every once and a while, Eddie would tilt your head to him, before pressing a kiss to your lips again.

hope you enjoyed this!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #joseph quinn x reader

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lovelyrocker · 6 months ago

Text

Pool Girl part 10

-RPF

-Warnings: Nervousness, Talk About Sex, FLUFF

-Characters: Timothee Chalamet, Reader

-Pairings: Timothee x Reader

-Word Count: 1,548

-UnBeta'd

One date turned into another, then another and another. They weren’t fancy. Picnics and burger joints. Walking in the park, ice cream and coffee shops. They hung out even when they weren’t on dates. She would go over to Timothee’s and they would sit by the pool and sip beer or whatever he had in his wine cellar.

“How would you feel about formally meeting my friends?” Timothee asked next to the pool.

“Your friends that think I’m a gold digger?”

“They don’t think you’re a gold digger.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

Timothee smirked. “Maybe if you would stop eavesdropping at the gate and actually come in instead of leaving when you hear the voice of someone who isn’t me.”

She gave a sigh. “I won’t get along with your friends. I know that.”

“How will you know if you don’t try?” He taps the underneath of her chin with his finger, making her smile. “I want them to meet my girl.”

“Oh, I’m your girl now?!” She said with added expression. “When did that happen?!”

“When you kept accepting my dates and kissing me.” He smiled proudly.

“We’ve never even had sex.”

“We don’t need to be sleeping together for you to be my girlfriend. Besides, I think the longer we wait the better it will be.”

“How so?”

“The build up and it actually means something. The more we wait the more we actually get to like one another and the better the sex.”

“I’ll agree with you on that one.”

“So?” He leans forward. “Whaddaya say?” He presses a kiss to her lips. “Meet my friends?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

He watches her as she sits there, watching the water, lit up by the lights in the pool. “Stay the night.”

“What?!” She laughed out, shocked at his question.

“I want you to spend the night. No sex, just my company.”

“Are you serious?”

Timothee shrugs. “Why not?”

She looks at him. “I- I- I don't have a reason.”

“It’s late, I know you’re exhausted. I know you keep extra clothes on the truck. We can order some Chinese and watch some movies till we fall asleep cuddled on the couch.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” His smile grew.

“Yes.” She smiled.

He stands. “Go get your clothes, I’ll go order food. You’ll have time to shower before it gets here.”

Y/N ran out to the work truck, grabbed her bag of clothes and locked the truck. She walked back up to the house and she could see Timothee through the huge glass windows setting up the living room, Apple TV loading on the screen. She smiled watching him fluff the pillows.

She walked in, Timothee turning to her with a smile. “Come on, I‘ll show you the bathroom.”

He led her upstairs. She looked over the newer parts of his house she’d never seen before. It was white, natural colors with bright whimsical paintings and art on the walls. It showed his different styles.

“This is my room. You can use my bathroom.” His cheeks reddened slightly, which she thought was adorable.

“Your bed is huge.”

“I like to roll around a lot.”

“Oh yeah?!” She raised her brows and his face dropped.

“Not- Not like that! I just mean-” She silenced him with her lips on his.

“Relax.” She whispered into his lips. “I’ll be out in a bit.” She backed away into the bathroom.

She stood in the wide shower with the rainfall showerhead. The glass walls of the shower quickly steamed up as she showered. His body wash smelled like him. Not too strong of sandalwood and a dash of mint. The shampoo was vanilla and ginger.

She smiled as she showered. She had a small level of nerves settling in her and she wasn’t sure why. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in the large fluffy white towel. It smelled of fresh linen. Looking at the marble lavatory she saw a fancy dish set up with cologne. She picked up the Bleu de Chanel bottle and gave it a sniff. It was the same one he had on now.

She put on her panties and smirked, going into his closet, picking out a t-shirt, slipping it on with her pajama shorts beneath. Wiping the mirror she looked at herself in the mirror, his shirt baggy on her. She shook her head with a laugh at how he liked his clothes oversized.

She walked down stairs, Timothee putting the food out on the table in the living room in front of the couch. He glanced back and did a double take. A smirk was immediate on his face.

“Nice shirt.”

“I figured, why not.”

He stands and slowly walks over to her. Slipping his hand gently around her waist he pulls her to him and presses his lips to hers. Parting his lips slightly he deepens the kiss just a little more before pulling away.

“It looks good on you.” His smirk is devilish and she loves it.

They sit on the couch and put on some random ass TV show about underground fight clubs and dig into the food. He was surprised how much she got into such a violent show. He laughed at her reactions to the blood and violence.

“Okay,” He stood. “I’m going jump in the shower. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“I’ll clean this up.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s the least I can do.” She tells him with the take out boxes in her hands.

Y/N cleans up the mess and wipes down the counter and table in the living room. Standing in the kitchen she was flipping through her phone when she saw Timothee walking down the stairs across the house. She did a double take and froze. He walked into the office in a pair of gray jogging pants completely shirtless, hair damp. She watched as his muscles flexed across his body when he leaned over the computer that the security system was on. For such a slim body he was extremely muscular.

He walked out of the office and paused in the kitchen. “Are you ready for another episode or do you want to watch a movie?”

“I- uh-” She stuttered as if she suddenly went dumb. “Y-yeah.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” She giggled as she walked past him.

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back against him. “Liar.” He gripped her hips. “I saw that.”

“Saw what?” She played dumb.

“You staring.” He kissed her cheek. “Do you want me to put a shirt on? So I'm not so distracting.” She shook her head no. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.” He backs away and smacks her rear.

She follows him into the living room and onto the couch. “Let's find a movie.”

“Action, horror?” He asks as he lays across the couch, Y/N cuddling into his side between him and the couch.

“Romance.”

“I got you covered.” He pulls up the romantic movie section and they settle on a movie.

It’s a comfortable setting. They are relaxed with each other and it’s easy flow of conversation and movements between them. Little kisses and playful touches. Timothee found more confidence with her and let his hands drift lower on her hips and thighs, letting his hand come to rest on her bottom as they watched the movie.

After a while he noticed she wasn’t talking anymore, and she’d stopped drawing shapes on his stomach. He looked down and she was asleep on his chest. He kissed the top of her head and rested his head on top of hers for a moment before sliding out from beneath her. He walked to the back door, locking in. The loud clack of the top lock woke her. He looked back seeing her wiping her eyes, sitting up on the couch.

“Sorry.” Timothee walked back over to the couch. “I didn’t think it was gonna wake you.”

“It’s okay.”

“Come on,” He took her hand. “Let’s go upstairs”

She followed him, her hand in his, pausing here and there as he shut off lights on the way to his bedroom. She had a sudden surge of nerves as she watched him shut the bedroom door and pull down the covers.

“You can sleep on whichever side you want.” He told her, shutting the curtains.”Do you want a light? I can leave-”

“No, that’s- it’s fine.” She tells him, climbing into bed.

He shuts off the lights and all that’s left is the lamp next to the bed on his side. He scoots closer to her.

“Tell me, do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?” He smirks at her.

“What?” He giggled.

“Little spoon it is.” He wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her against him.

“Oh! I get it now.” She laughed. “This is good.”

Laying her head on the pillow she felt Timothee shut the light off and pull her a little closer.

“You smell like strawberries.” He comments.

“I had lotion in my bag.”

He buries his face into her neck and inhales deeply. He settles in behind her and it literally takes minutes before they are both asleep.

#timothee chalamet #timothée #timothée chalamet #chalamet #timothee #rpf #reader #reader insert #Pool Girl #part 10

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istherewifiinhell · 7 months ago

Text

okayyyy also. tagged by @joelletwo for 5 topics i could talk about for an hour with no prep.

now. two things. 1. i have infernal podcast dude energy and could say a lot about nothing. weird trait to have if u dont like talking to people? hard to say. 2. GESTURES AT BLOG. im ALREADY. talking at length abt my beloved shit. so im just ruling out turtles, alien robots, trek, etcetcetc all the shit thats been a main blog topic for the last past. 4 years?

I'm gonna say.... western voice actors? not that i could really. Give a lecture so much as. I'm way more familiar with them that than I am live action actors. And I'm kinda just CONSTANTLY like. Oh you know so and so from every cartoon youve ever fucking seen? And FEEL a real. gap. with people when they dont have a same reference point. probably like how ppl feel with me when i dont know their acting guys jhadbgjfga. Like u can name 5 VAs from ur childhood cartoons/animated movies right? And personal interest like, hey btw u know like the entire cast of tng was in disneys gargoyles? U know keith david can SING? And diego luna? Hey you know about Canadian actors who are in all the dubs and video games and yeah cheap shit? You know Scott McNeil right? You know Ian James Corlett? You know. THE IAN. of being Ian. Hello. is this thing still on?

I really like and care about the topics of education, children's rights and pedagogy? Not academically so much as, personal interest. What seeing very clearly that there was a lot of arbitrary rules that involved things like. The Government. and Systems. as a child does to a motherfucker I guess? I'm always INTERESTED in a discussion about it, is how i mean I guess. Like focuses of multiple intelligence and "applied knowledge" (and short comings there of). I mean long and short of it. Kids are full human beings and until u can grapple with that their feelings and opinions um. Actually matter. I hate you? jdhbgjhdb. And Naturally the world being good for kids has the prerequisite of it not sucking ass for adults too....

UHhhh guh. User design/civil engineering? You'll hear it from me until the day I die, crushed under the tires of a ford f1 giga truck with the LED 20million watt bulbs. PROTECTED BIKE LANES. for the love of god. I just know a lot of designers I guess and like engineering, conceptually. But like, u know that famous bridge everyone crashes into. If theres 80million warning signs and people are still crashing... maybe theres. other factors. Or you know ofc like, traffic planning, vehicle accidents, structural disasters. A lot of them are not just. Things happening. Tragedies. There's politics there. Usually a lot of Money stuff. and structural racism. The real reason your fridge is full is that there's a bunch of half empty condiment jars hiding all your forgotten left overs. And widening the roads isnt gonna do shit for traffic.

Jackass entry: Themes and motifs of anyyytthing ive watched with another person or saw, and like they also know it. I realllly like, visual theming and narrative shorthands. Anything that breaks like, maybe people in this setting dont have the same customs, but their gonna do something so you the audience can recognize it. Non literal/accurate use of colour and lighting, for mood and clarity. Breaking the physical shape and scale of things so they can appear and be readable on screen. COSTUMING COSTUMING COSTUMING. A well styled character can do soooo much for your understanding of a work, especially with large casts, and a poorly styled one can take me right out. Well. anyway. yes i love animation u all knew that.

uhhhhh Thatgamecompany/giantsquids studio. im giving myself a free space. lol technically I DO. blog about this. the music. at least. BUT beloved. games. Me and everyone else I guess. Hey speaking of u know its laura bailey and troy baker as the voices in the pathless? And you know how a lot of the games have themes of coming into being/growing/rebirth. And LOTS of environmentalism. And implied cultural world building, and wordless stories. and beautiful metaphor rich otherworldly visuals. and gameplay styles that really connect with the emotional story their going for. and ofc, the music. oh the leit motifs. well. there u go. sword of the sea when?

tagginggg. uh did anyone get @deadgrantaires or @army-of-bee-assassins yet? anyone elseeee who wants to regale me with things they knowww about. id love to know.

#some shit #KINDA. gave up. cause i hampered myself with the restriction not my fandoms. jadgbdhf BUT YALL ALREADY KNOWWWWW i could take u thru #my fav mirage issues or like. my favourite implications of tf stuff.#like. all the things i like to watch and like. this is a story about familys. or rebellion. or why people care about each other.#why its important to keep living. and everything iver ever blogged about. lmao #i also skipped on things like. cool machinery i like or how products are WORSE now days. even tho. djjhdbfj. if i have to talk to a #less known person i would consider those like. safety topics. dgjhdf #if u wanted to be really vague i could to a tangential daisy chain all themed around the colour blue. ofc.

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mountaindmned · 22 days ago

Text

hc+ i can't sum this up in one word but could you talk about what happened to Jack's right eye (i think it's that one?- the one that's very clearly cloudy and blind) [ @wxshingtcns ]

-- Hannah had a new pair of glasses, paid for by the flame scar on her arm. (bloody, shaking after her first kill, Jack had given her a bit of leather and taken his knife out, here bite down on this)

"What's the..." Her bandaged arm gestured to her right eye. Her eyes sparked in the fireplace glow. (They'd moved into the cabin this winter, she hadn't asked about the bunk beds yet...)

Jack barked out a small laugh. He sipped his whisky.

"Same as every other scar. I saved someone."

---

They'd settled into a routine, the Fiddlers and the Greers. Gramps would pretend he didn't know about the kids sneaking down the mountain in Sky's truck. The kids would all pile into Kira and Matthew's bedrooms. The boys all clustered on Matthews floor like, well, a pack of dogs.

Jack woke to a tree limb snapping. The weight of responsibility settled back in his shoulders. The oldest, he and Hawk cursed by being blood tied to the first of the Mad Dogs.

Hawk has heard it too. They whistled across the house:

prey?

yes.

Jack shook Sky awake. The rest of the pack all stirred. Immediately awake, deadly silent. They moved to the door -- Sky would wake up the Greer parents. Bluebird would get the pack back outside, pass out shotguns.

Gramps had told them, if they were going to go down the mountain so often, they had to be ready. So they'd planned it all out. Entrances, edits, the "I'm sorry but the legends are not only true but they're banging on the screen door" speech to Jessica and Sarah.

Jack scrambled to the bed where Matthew slept. Put a hand over Matthew's mouth. Woke him up.

Matthew nodded and sat up.

"Go get Kira and run towards the truck." He whispered. Kissed Matthew's hand.

Sarah refused to run. She was no stranger to war, to a scrap with low odds. She'd racked her shotgun and joined the teens all in the backyard. Jessica sat in the driver's seat of the truck, ready to flee.

The forest glowed uranium green, Madhee was a black scar against the sky.

"Steady!" Hawk called.

The trees rattled with a death howl.

Jack stood to the side with a burning stick. Held it over a wet patch in the grass.

Hawk shut her eyes. Tilted her face up towards the wind. Prayed the winds would blow in their favor tonight. Her hair whipped around her face.

The trees shook again. Closer. Closer.

Jack adjusted his grip on the stick.

The artillery line all inhaled and exhaled as one. Fingers flexed around seven shotgun barrels.

The creature crept closer. It's skeletal glow, it's quick jerking movements. It stepped into the backyard, short work of the chain link fence.

It crept up towards Jack. A screech towards the sky. Jack held his breath. Hawk glanced back at Sarah, made sure she was still.

Closer. Closer. Jack stayed relaxed-- that was the truck, it was easier to stay still if you relaxed. Most people tensed, muscles screaming and complaining.

It stepped into the large pool of gasoline. It was close enough, Jack could feel the tingle of radiation off his skin. His orange eyes reflected back the green glow, turning a deathly grey.

Hawk whistled. It cut through the night. Clear and sharp.

Jack dropped the stick into the gasoline. The guns exploded. Flames and noise and screeching--

Pain in his right eye. Warm blood dripping out. The truck roared to life and the creature turned towards the bright white lights.

Hawk led the gunmen to defend the truck. A few strides to the left, situated between the truck and the prey.

Jack knelt in the grass, tried to push away the panic at the new sensation. His eye was moving but it was dripping, oozing down his cheek. Couldn't see out of it.

Everyone was in trouble. Damn his eye. He pushed himself to his feet and ran for the truck.

Matthew and Kira stared at him as Jessica backed out of the drive. A dreadful thought: was this goodbye?

No more horror movies, no more pies, no more lake trips--

The creature leapt on the truck, snarling and hissing. The three Greers all crouched under the seats as gunshots rang out and claws cracked the glass.

Matthew, Matthew, Matthew--

No time for sentimentality. Jack leapt at the prey. The pine-tar torch was still lit. Hawk nodded. Ran forward and clasped her hands against her knee.

Jack leapt and Hawk lifted him into the air. Jack gripped the creature around the neck. Jammed the torch into the prey's eye as FUCKING PAYBACK!

The pack all whooped. The creature screamed. It staggered and slowly fell against the front hood. Jack kicked off. Bluebird and Hawk helped him as he stumbled off the tailgate of the truck.

Everything froze for a while. A few heartbeats. Making sure it was actually dead.

The green glow faded. The flames crackled in the grass.

Jack opened the truck door.

Matthew clung to Jack's Carhartt with shaking hand, the other hand gripping Kira tight to his chest to protect her.

Jessica was--

Kira was covered in her blood.

Matthew howled.

Sarah screamed and Hawk had to wrestle the gun away, keep her from shooting the pack. She went down with a thud as three feral teens clawed at her and gently, oh so carefully, lowered her onto the grass. Hawk held both guns and Sky checked her pulse.

Jack stood there, numb. "I'm sorry for your loss." He heard himself say it like Gramps did. Worn and tired. Only half meaning it. He wished he meant it more, Jessica was his family too. But he was coming off a hunt, his face felt wrong. He didn't have energy for any of this emotional bullshit.

He's tear his hair out over it later.

Matthew looked up at him in horror and revulsion and shock. Kira was wide eyed but dead to the world, shaking in Matthews grip.

Jack turned his head as Hawk whistled his name, felt his eyeball slap against his cheek. He squeezed his throat shut against the bile as he went on autopilot, squished it back into the socket.

In the present, Jack looked at the fire. Looked back at Hannah. She was obviously expecting a story. He took another sip of whiskey.

"You know. Just some hiker that didn't listen." He shrugged. Pursed his lips. "Nothing special."

He stretched, settled into the chair. "I got a friend down the mountain. Matthew. We should go visit him sometime soon."

#wxshingtcns #headcanon ;;#this is the end you point at the thing you want to kill ;;#eye horror cw

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ledinmotion · 2 months ago

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little-annie · 1 year ago

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All I Want | Ch9

Steddie | Little_Annie | Ao3

Ch8 ⤵️

---

Needless to say there were tears when Steve watched Eddie disappear into the trailer. Screen door snapping shut with the crack of metal ringing shrill through the air, you'd think the sound would have startled him or at the very least would have made him jump but he was so numb to the world around him he'd hardly even processed the sharp noise.

All he felt was an overwhelming emptiness and longing in the fading light of his car. The buzz of the street lights flickering on and the howl of a dog in the distance lost to his senses as he stared at that front door, hoping, waiting, wanting for Eddie to pop his head out and wave him in.

But that never came.

It never came, so after several minutes of staring longingly at a metal door Steve finally backed out of the Munson's driveway and headed for home.

For the longest while he remained on autopilot. The trek from Eddie's home to his own being ingrained into his mind just as much as breathing, but by the time he was passing through town and driving by the tire shop, he finally fell back into reality.

Eddie's van.

Fuck

The very least he could do was fix Eddie's van.

There'd been multiple times he had to help the man with changing a tire or replacing a headlight or something of the sort. Eddie was a good mechanic. He liked to tell Steve it was because he was poor and had no other option but to do it on his own because it was cheaper, but just from watching Eddie work on the van Steve knew it was something he enjoyed. Granted, he wasn't sure if Eddie remembered that now or not.

They'd been to Thatcher Tire enough times together that Steve had memorised Eddie's tire size and now knew they had a discount pile of take offs in the back. Though, he only hoped they were open late enough for him to get replacements tonight.

Upon coming to a grinding halt as the bay doors were closing and employees were filing out of the side door, Steve found himself tripping over gravel, calling out to Gary before he could get into his truck and drive off.

The old man didn't seem too impressed. Falling into the driver's seat with a groan and rolling his window down with a slowness that was painful, he levelled Steve with a look, grumbling, "What you want kid?"

"Gar-" Steve huffed, letting his hands rest on his hips, "I need two tires man."

"Were closed"

Steve grimaced and truthfully for a moment contemplated jumping the fence in the back and leaving a wad of cash in exchange for a set of cheap tires, but maybe something in his face gave way to his intentions because before he knew it Gary let out a gruff, put upon sigh and heaved himself from the vehicle.

Large belly, suspenders and motor oil stained clothes, the man shouldered past Steve and made his way back into the shop, calling over his shoulder, "What'd your boy run over this time?"

—

No more than ten minutes and a couple hundred bucks later, Steve found himself on the road again. In the few moments waiting at the front desk for Gary to find two tires, Steve had come up with a plan. It was nothing extravagant, he just wanted to help Eddie. He felt a burning need to do what he could to make his boy's life easier. He'd go home, change, grab some tools and whatever else he'd need to repair what he could on the van and head back to the school to do just as much.

Granted he'd never done any of it without Eddie by his side, helping him along the way with gentle words and encouragement in his ear and teasing lips on his neck that sooner led them inside or into the back of the van.

He couldn't help but smile at the memory.

—

"What'd you run over this time?"

"Nothin'," Eddie grumbled while bodily heaving a screwdriver from his front tire, turning to Steve with a smile and a shrug as he continued, "really, if anything, I just acquired a free screwdriver."

"Uh huh, " Steve remembers saying while fondly shaking his head and leaning in to whisper against Eddie's lips, "now teach me how to change a tire, Eds."

Eddie hummed, closing the short distance between them with a press to Steve's lips, "As you wish Sunshine."

For the longest while Steve assumed it was a quiet affair while watching Eddie on his knees changing a tire, but turns out he was just too entrapped by the ripple of his boyfriend's muscles and the bead of sweat running down his neck to actually be paying any attention.

He remembers only checking back in when he felt Eddie squeeze his calf, "You get that all Baby?"

He most definitely did not.

But he smiled and nodded anyway.

Maybe a little dumbly when he realised the rush through his veins and the heat under his skin.

It wasn't many moments later that he was pushing Eddie into the back of the van and feeling sweat stained skin under his tongue.

—

But it was when he hit a pothole and snapped back to reality that he was once again flooded with grief. That moment was very likely something he'd never experience again. The warmth in his chest, the thrum in his veins. The way his heart fluttered behind his ribs as Eddie called him Sunshine.

Tears began to well and he felt his chest tightening for the millionth time in the last week.

Past a vastness of trees and large homes sure enough to be as empty as his own; through the bur of tears and the fog of sadness in his eyes, Steve pulled into the driveway of his childhood home.

Upon coming to a stop in front of the garage door he felt a sob heave from his chest, forcing him to curl forward and gasp for air as the tears fell like a shower into his lap.

The reality that he'd never have Eddie in that capacity again was debilitating.

Something so simple, a moment so regular that it shouldn't have meant anything special. But still it was something Steve longed for once again.

The way every motion, every movement, every shared breath, whispered words and swallowed gasp happened with such ease. Such love and desire and unbridled but unrushed need.

He longed for it desperately.

Longed for it like the flowers yearned for the sun, pleading and dying and fading were they to go without.

Like the fields thirsted for rain in drought, soil cracking and breaking, fissures in the earth like those in his heart.

Like the gasping of flames as they reach for oxygen, light fading to darkness while the need to surge forward dies with empty lungs.

He feared he'd die without it.

But maybe that'd be best.

Maybe then he wouldn't have to live with such a gaping hole in chest. Wide and growing, bleeding around the edges. Suffering slowly. Painfully. Alone.

—

The sky was black, a vastness of emptiness and onyx, diluted by the golden glow of the street lights no more than a dozen feet away.

He'd shut off the car at some point, the rumble of the engine no longer settling in his bones as he slouched further into his seat. The low tone of radio static gone as were hours of the evening. It'd had to have been somewhere close to midnight, maybe 11 p.m., the sliver of moon hanging highest in the sky.

There was sleep in his eyes and an ache in his bones that felt wholly specific to sleeping in the front seat of a car. Contorted and twisted in on himself, seeking a comfort that was never there.

It was obvious his exhaustion had gotten the best of him, blanketing him with a heaviness that forced hours of sleep to be anything but stolen.

Steve rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, pushing himself to sit upright with a stretch and a groan.

With a crack of his neck and a twist of his back, Steve sighed and hauled himself from the vehicle. Heading to the house with intentions to change and grab some tools, he trekked up the stone walkway.

If he wanted to get Eddie's van fixed up and back to the trailer park before any more assholes could mess with it, he should go now.

But it was when he reached the first step of the porch he'd seen something he hadn't expected to find.

Robin Buckley.

Robin Buckley, bundled in one of his Hawkins High Swim Team sweatshirts with her head leaning against the side of the house, sat on the porch and curled into herself with tear stains on her cheeks. Her knees were pulled tight to her chest, the hood of the green sweater hiding the better half of her face. She was asleep but from what Steve could see she looked sad, a furrow in her brow and a frown on her face.

The unread note burning a hole in his pocket made him feel as if he'd something to do with it.

He wanted to run. He wanted to leave and never come back.

He was ashamed.

He knew he'd abandoned Robin, left her worrying and wondering. Left her without explanation. Though he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to manage one.

There'd been nights he recalls hearing her banging on the front door, cursing him out, pleading for an answer but leaving her need unheard.

He felt like doing the same right now.

But an overwhelming sense of longing forced him to the ground next to her, curling in on himself and letting tears fall as she let out a groan and shuffled enough to pull him into her side.

They were silent for what felt like hours, though it was probably just moments sitting with his head tucked into her neck and her arms tight around his shoulders.

Tears spilled and stained flesh and cloth, their bodies shuddering with emotion together. Eventually Robin's fingers found his hair, combing and scratching, soothing the ache in his chest and burning in his lungs.

He didn't realise how much he missed her until he allowed himself to be held in her arms.

He'd neglected her for weeks. His once partner in crime felt like a stranger, an unknown astro figure that burned bright like a star, lighting the darkness in his heart. Illuminating the parts of himself he hadn't realised he'd lost.

He felt warmth in his chest he was sure was dead. A lifeless decaying thing that began to flutter when her lips pressed to his scalp and she whispered, "I've missed you, you asshole."

A response was a nonexistent thing, but he was able to manage a hum when he reached for her hand and squeezed it with his own, her bones frail and skin chilled, it felt like an odd thing to miss. But he did. So he held on a little tighter.

They remained that way for a while, the chill of the early summer night settling in their bones and leaving them with a shiver. Eventually Steve worked up the courage to speak, burrowing closer as he whispered to Robin, "m' sorry."

To that Robin hummed and her hand stilled, she was processing, he knew but the ache in his chest didn't disappear when she ground out a simple, "Okay."

Not an 'it's okay' or an 'I know.' Just an undecipherable, 'okay', like she was confirming that she heard him and that was all. Like she didn't believe his words or the regret he felt for abandoning her for weeks on end.

They'd have to talk and it'd be an ugly thing he was sure, but now wasn't the time.

Now Steve's mind was focused on the man he loved, scraped and scathed lying alone in his empty home.

Now Eddie was his main concern.

He felt bad for asking, but right now his priority was the man that held a piece of his heart sitting alone on the other side of town.

"Rob?" Steve whispered, hesitant, that light she'd only just sparked once again in his soul, fluttering and flickering with unease. Threatening to burn out once again.

She hummed, tired and unimpressed, still with a silence that felt like a knife to the chest.

"I need your help"

Robin

It'd been a day.

Work was hell. Hours spent worrying over the words and tears spilled onto a torn piece of paper, a thick twist of nerves in her gut while trying to remain productive and professional. They'd been many times she'd been on the cliffs edge of a breakdown, Keith grumbling at her to get a move on while she stared blankly at the tower of tapes next to her, eyes welling and body feeling weak.

She'd cried herself to sleep the night before, knees tucked to her chest and cheeks stained with tears. The words she'd written on that paper floated through her dreams like a painful reminder of her loneliness and anger. She'd awoken stiff and sore, throat scratchy and eyes red. The idea of heading into work only inspiring dread.

But the day had come and nearly gone, landing her with sore feet and an aching heart on the cusp of the Harrington's stone walkway, the cursed mailbox to her side. Though to her greatest distress the note was gone and upon further inspection so was Steve's car.

She'd contemplated leaving, saving herself the hurt until she got home to wallow once again but for whatever reason she'd felt a spark of determination in her damaged soul. The need to stay and stand her ground upon Steve's inevitable arrival home.

At some point she'd found herself sat on the front steps, book in hand, feigning composure as every ounce of her being ached for one reason or another. She was hurt, heart damaged and bleeding so profusely, agonising over what they'd once had and possibly could never recover again. Steve Harrington was the definition of wreckage, albeit it his own or that caused by an outside force was yet to be determined but it hurt Robin all the same. Left blind and not even graced with the permission to sit on the sidelines and listen.

She was an outsider.

Much like she had been for the majority of her life, but with Steve, her best friend, her soulmate, God, she thought it'd been different. She thought he cared for her as much as she did him. Two halves to a single whole. Souls set to meet through every lifetime. But the last year proved that to be false. Proved that she was just a filler, a body there for emotional comfort when needed. Something he'd so drastically lacked through the years and apparently had found somewhere else other than Robin Buckley.

The last weeks had been rough, and that's not even counting the whole Upside Down shit show. That was counting the way Steve had pulled away completely, the few moments they still shared together, torn away and left to rot. Like she was never there. Not even a thought in the back of his mind. Not even worth a phone call or a single movie night or dinner shared in the last month. She felt invisible. Like a ghost.

Though she wasn't even that. She wasn't graced with even the decency to roam the halls and haunt one Steve Harrington.

No, it was like she hadn't existed at all. There was no ghost to be had when the stardust of your soul simply didn't form a being, the shimmer of what could have been love and life, blowing away like dust in the breeze.

She'd sat there, only a small number of pages turned and words in front of her read. Tears had been shed, an amount so significant, rolling in dredges and drowning the freckles on her cheeks, she'd fallen exhausted in time with the fading sky. Pinks and oranges swirling above, Robin allowed her world to fade to darkness.

Waking once to an unseen rumble and the chill of summer air, she begrudgingly pulled Steve's stolen sweater from her backpack, letting it engulf her as she drifted off once again.

Not long after she woke to a weight at her side, solid in stature but shaking with emotions. Tears and quiet sobs falling to the air between them. She needn't open her eyes, the man's presence alone being enough to go by but something about him felt off. Dull. Dying. As if a part of the man she once called her best friend had a piece of his soul missing.

She's still mad. Fucking furious and heartbroken and betrayed but, fuck… but she still loves the guy. Maybe that's why it hurts so much when she musters the ability to speak and his response is an empty apology. Like he hasn't the slightest clue as to why he should feel bad at all. As if he hadn't been slowly pulling away over the last year only to completely detach within the last weeks.

But goddammit, it's also probably why when Steve asks for help she can't help but give in. No questions asked, just a hollowness that remains in her chest.

Though maybe when they peel themselves from the porch and Steve goes to change his clothes and find a tire iron among other things, Robin wishes she would have at least asked something.

There's a manic look in his eye and his knuckles are white where they hold a death grip on the steering wheel. She's silent, thumbs twiddling in her lap though she can't help but take on some of Steve's frantic energy. It radiates off of him in droves and crawls to settle deep with her skin like a foul disease.

For a long moment she thinks he's finally lost it, that she's committed herself as an accessory to a crime they're about to commit.

But 15 minutes down the road and coming to a slow stop in the school parking lot, Robin has an idea of what they're doing.

Eddie's van sits not more than 10 feet away, windows smashed, tires slashed and the word 'Murderer' painted on the side. She can't help but gasp.

Eddie doesn't deserve this, he's been through enough and so much of it he doesn't even remember.

In the silence and the dark of the car, she has to ask, "Is he okay?"

Steve

He can hear Robin saying something next to him, but it's all lost to the noise inside his head.

The hum of anxiety, the brim of fucking panic. The sound of Eddie's crying in the seat next to him not more than a few hours ago.

He can hear his heart beating like a drum in his ears, erratic, angered, exhausted.

But he has to do this.

Unknowingly leaving Robin's question unanswered, Steve pulls himself from the vehicle, tears brimming in his eyes the moment the late night air hits his skin once again.

It reminds him of the nights he and Eddie camped out in the woods, spending the evening curled into one another in the back of the van. The cool night air biting at their skin, chilling their noses and their ears, leaving them to their own devices to seek warmth.

His cheeks redden at the memory. Skin on skin, hot breaths traded and gasps swallowed.

But then, as usual, reality comes flooding back when he feels a sharp pain in his arm. Robin Buckley's fist to his bicep to be more exact.

"I asked you a question Steve. You can't just show me this-" Robin says with anger a light in her blue eyes, gesturing with a lanky arm towards the vandalised van, "and than fucking leave. Where's Eddie? Is he okay? Is he hurt?"

Goddammit

"No Robin. He's not okay, okay? They beat the shit out of him and I had to drive him home earlier because he could hardly function after seeing this." He mimics her motions, sweeping a frustrated hand towards the van. He huffs, equal parts ashamed and annoyed, he just wants to get this done with but a small part feels bad for even dragging Robin into it all. "So let's just fix this shit so he doesn't have to deal with it." He continues with finality, fist clenched around the tire iron while he moves to one of the slashed tires.

Robin nods, tight lipped and silent, alone where they'd just been standing side by side. She's still for a moment surveying the scene before her. The damage done and the man on his knees in the dirt, monkeying with a tire like he has any clue what he's doing.

She'd offer to help him. But it's not her place anymore.

Steve doesn't notice the tears in her eyes when she moves to retrieve the rags and cleaner from the car, moving to scrub off the spray paint in silence only a few feet away from him.

—

The street lights buzz overhead and the crickets chip in the distance. For a second, albeit it wild, Steve thinks the moment's nice. Robin's by his side, though quiet, she's still there, helping him when she doesn't really need to. It dawns on him that he hadn't even asked why she was at his house, sleeping on the front porch in the first place.

Though, after getting snappy with her minutes ago, he doesn't really feel like he has the right to speak.

She's here, it's the most he's seen of her in weeks and he knows it's his fault, but he knows they'll be okay.

He just needs to get this shit with Eddie sorted out first.

The first tire's changed and Steve's working on the second when Robin plops down on the ground next to him. Her back's to the van and her eyes are rimmed red when she thunks her head against the vehicle with a quiet huff.

Eyes are shut and brow furrowed, she pulls her knees to her chest and finally lets words fall into the chilled late night air between them. "I do miss you, you know," she says quietly, barreling on before Steve can even think of what to say, "I- Steve… I just don't get what I did to make you hate me. Like is it the lesbian thing? Does it disgust you that much? Because I get it if it does, I probably shouldn't have told you in the first place. You didn't even know me back then."

At that accusation the tire iron falls limp in his hand, taking in his best friend with a feeling akin to grief, Steve notices her eyes are still closed, her head leaning back, chin turned to the sky and silent tears slipping free as she continues, "Or did I do something or say something? I just don't know where I went wrong."

He goes to speak but his words fall short when Robin opens her eyes, red and tired, watery, meeting his own, "It's been a year of you pulling away. After Vecna, you were just gone. Maybe I'd seen you a handful of times since but you were so tuned out, empty. I felt like you couldn't even see me." She whispers the last half and then lets out a wet laugh, deprecating in a way.

"Then I wrote that fucking letter and felt sick to my stomach for hours. I couldn't believe the things I'd written in it. I felt awful. But between me feeling like I was going to puke, not seeing it in your mailbox when I went to steal it back, to sitting here after you didn't even bother to ask why I was on your porch in the first place. I don't regret it. You deserve to read what's in that letter."

Then she's quiet, the tears haven't stopped rolling and her eyes haven't left Steve's yet. Blue and biting and searing into his soul. He wishes he could muster something to say, some form of an explanation as to why. But really, he doesn't know why or how to explain it in the slightest.

The thought that she's felt him pulling away for a year is startling. She felt alone and he was off falling in love and having the time of his life without her. She didn't even know about it. But it's not like she could. Especially not now. It wasn't just his secret to share.

He wanted to say sorry, to hold her and explain everything away, but he couldn't. He didn't know how to.

Blue eyes are pleading, looking back into his own, flecks of the sky and the sea glimmering with sadness behind tears under the dull moonlight that blankets them.

After a moment of silence Robin huffs, pulls her eyes away and clenches her jaw with such ferocity Steve fears it may shatter.

"Rob," he finally says, voice weak, exhausted, scared, "I'm so-"

But he's cut off as Robin hisses and pushes herself to her feet, "Don't you dare say you're sorry."

So he doesn't. He snaps his mouth shut and watches as Robin Buckley walks away, muttering under her breath, not unheard to him, "It's just bullshit anyways."

---

Ao3 link ⤵️

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