#okay so maybe this turned into a ficlet
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Head-canon that adds to the whole âVulcanâs are Feline in natureâ concept because I really like it
Spockâs eyes are reflective like a catâs. The crew (specifically Kirk and Bones) doesnât find out until the ships power goes out for a time and theyâre dead in space, relying only on backup generators to keep life support systems active.
When they go down to the engine room with nothing but flash lights to see, Spock is already there. Heâs standing hunched over a panel, in near complete darkness, like something out of a horror film. Jim questions, âSpockâŚ?â
The half-Vulcan turns around, the low light of the flash lights is reflecting off his pupils making them glow, in-human and strange.
Of course, Jim is mostly unfazed by this new discovery, while the sight of it makes McCoy come just short of having an aneurysm. âWHY are you all alone in the dark down here you freak!!â Boneâs eyes are practically bulging out of his skull.
Spock, eyebrow raised in borderline annoyance, just calmly states, âVulcans have a superior ability to see in darkness, Doctor. I did not need a flashlight.â
#spirk#james t. kirk/spock#bones mccoy#doctor mccoy#star trek tos#spock head canons#star trek#captain kirk#jim kirk#okay so maybe this turned into a ficlet
193 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Pencil You In
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you've been working too hard and need a break. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: Fluff, crying, reader is tired, slight insecurities, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Partially inspired by an image the beautiful @bucksangel sent me and life stretching me a bit thin, here's a little ficlet. Lovelies, take breaks. You deserve them and you are more than enough! â¤ď¸ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You slumped in your chair of your home office as you reread the sentence on the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Weariness had already settled deep in your bones long before you looked over the document, the words blurring together the longer you stared. Blinking a few times didnât help as you reached for your mug, only to remember that you had finished your extra helping of caffeine an hour ago. Begrudgingly, you set it down and huffed as if it was somehow the fault of the cup that it didnât automatically fill itself.
âAlmost done,â you whispered to yourself, straightening up so you could do one last readthrough.
It was a long week in what felt like a series of long weeks. Almost every minute of your schedule was accounted for lately and all you wanted to do was relax. People were depending on you though and you could relax over the weekend.
Hopefully.
âYou should take a break.â
You didnât turn around immediately at the sound of Buckyâs gentle voice, but you did manage a smile when you glanced over your shoulder a moment later. He didnât return the smile, concern swirling in his blue irises. You were afraid to stare into the pool of his eyes for too long out of fear of drowning.
And, god, you were drowning. It would be so easy to reach out and take the lifeline that was his hand. To just admit that you need some time to rest because you were tired. Hadnât you earned it? Didnât you deserve a break after the hard work you put in?
But maybe you didnât deserve it. What you did wasnât as important as someone like Bucky. You firmly shut the door on that thought before the words could make their way out of your mouth. If he couldâve read your mind and known you thought that, it wouldâve disappointed him. Not in you, but whoever made you decide that what you did wasnât enough.
Because you were always expected to do and be more.
âI will in a few minutes,â you said.
He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, making you tear your gaze away. You didnât comment on his disheveled hair, like he kept running a hand through it. Likely because he worried about you stretching yourself too thin. âThat was what you said a few minutes ago,â he reminded you, his voice light instead of accusatory.
You shut your eyes in the hopes that the tears wouldnât come and took a breath. âI really will this time,â you promised, giving the document one last readthrough once you got your emotions under control.
âIâll hold you to that,â he said.
If you wouldnât take a break for your own sake, you had to do it for Bucky.
âOkay. I think thatâs at a good stopping point,â you said, making you saved it before you closed it out. If you lost all of that after everything you put into it so far, you wouldâve lost it. Before you could move to the next task on your list though, an alert popped up on your screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach because you didnât remember scheduling anything else today. You didnât have the mental or emotional capacity for more. âWhat is this?â You mumbled before you opened it.
Reading the subject line, you did a double take.
CUDDLE WITH BUCKY
You covered your mouth to smother your giggles. âI donât remember scheduling this meeting.â
âItâs a good thing I remembered, baby,â he said as you spun around in your chair, sauntering over to you with a smirk as you tried not to laugh again. âItâs a mandatory meeting in our bed. No rescheduling. And I expect it to go the full hour. Maybe longer.â
âHow did you manage to set up an alert on my computer?â You asked as he grasped your hands and helped you to your feet, having to steady yourself a bit when your head spun.
At least you remembered to eat. Well, that wasnât technically true. Bucky brought you your meal earlier because he was the best boyfriend you could ask for.
âA magician never reveals his secrets,â he winked before he brought a palm to your cheek, his gaze shifting to something more serious. âBut it seemed to get your attention.â
Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. âI wasnâtâŚâ you trailed off, an apology on the tip of your tongue. Had you neglected him this past week? Or the ones before that?
Did he think you were a bad girlfriend?
Bucky slid his hand to your chin so youâd look at him again. âHey,â he whispered when your lower lip trembled. âI didnât mean anything by that and Iâm not upset with you. I donât think I could ever be upset with you. But, baby, youâve been working your ass off even more than usual. Iâm so fucking proud of you, but you need to take a real break.â
Your eyes burned, but no tears surfaced as he searched your gaze. âBut-â
âWhat is it you always tell me about work?â
âThat itâll be there tomorrow, but we may not beâ you answered, sighing. He was right. You couldnât let work and expectations others set for you take control of your life. âI told you that the last time you ran yourself ragged with missions.â
He brought his mouth to your forehead to kiss it, his scruff tickling your skin. âAnd now Iâm returning the favor,â he said against your skin. âSo, come to bed. Lay with me. JustâŚâ
âBe present,â you finished.
No phones. No work. No outside forces interfering. Just the pleasure of being with each other.
âExactly,â he said, tugging you by the hand. âCâmon. Weâre both late for our meeting.â
âYes, Sir,â you teased, smiling when he groaned.
âThis is a cuddle meeting, but itâll turn into gently fucking you to sleep if you keep talking like that,â he warned you, pulling you to bed a bit faster.
âYou say that like thatâs a bad thing,â you smiled, gasping as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.
He braced a hand on each side of your head as he leaned down, his breath fanning your face when you whimpered. âSex after we cuddle,â he breathed, sending a shiver down your spine. âThen we can cuddle again.â
You leaned up to brush your lips against his. âDeal,â you agreed.
Once he maneuvered you to the middle of the bed, his large body spooning yours, you couldnât stop the tears that came. You bit your lip so he wouldnât hear your soft sobs, but he mustâve sensed them as he grazed his nose along your neck affectionately and pulled you closer in his arms. You didnât realize just how much you needed to be held until then.
It was as if all the stress faded away.
âI really am proud of you. Hardest working woman I know and always taking care of me,â he whispered, pressing a kiss to your pulse as more tears hit the pillow.
âBecause I love you, Bucky,â you whispered. Who wouldnât want to take care of someone as amazing as James Buchanan Barnes?
âAnd I love you, too. So much,â he swore to you, turning you in his arms so he could kiss the tears away. The first kiss lingered on your cheek as he let out a shuddering breath. The sight of you crying likely broke his heart, but he didnât say anything about it for your sake. âSo let me be your personal hero today, okay? Let me take care of you and show that youâre more than enough.â
The words were so heartfelt and touching that you were surprised you didnât melt on the spot. âYou already are,â you promised before his lips met yours.
And he could pencil himself in for cuddles and more whenever he wanted.
I'll say it again, lovelies, you deserve breaks and you are more than enough. Love and thanks for reading! â¤ď¸
Masterlist â Bucky Barnes Masterlist â Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fic#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
đđĄđ đ°đđ˘đđ˘đ§đ đ đđŚđ | đŚđ˘đ đŽđđĽ đ¨âđĄđđŤđ
the tension between you and miguel rises to an all-time high âa ficlet featuring a grumpy miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. fem!reader, 1k
ËĘâĄÉË
Miguel has asked you multiple times to leave him alone while he's working. The strike force can't run itself (or so he claims âMargo and Lyla seem plenty capable, in your eyes) and he needs time and solitude to organise the protection of canon events, andâ
"Blah, blah, blah," you say, dropping your voice to a soft, teasing melody as you skirt around his frankly audaciously jacked chest.Â
"Don't blah, blah, blah me," Miguel says. You'd be intimidated if you weren't so happy to mess with him. "I'm not kidding around."Â
Okay, maybe you are intimidated. That just makes messing with him more fun.Â
The room he operates from, as you've so fondly monikered The Office, is in organised chaos, and much too dark. You drag a lone chair toward his control panel and set yourself down in front of all his screens and computers.Â
"Ooh," you hum, reaching for an unlabelled switch with a purposeful slowness.Â
Predictably, Miguel slams his hand over yours, yanking your chair back with an annoyed, "No."Â
"Come on, Miguel. What harm could I possibly do?"
"You couldâ"Â
"Topple the multiverse?" you suggest. "I've heard."Â
"You could turn off every member of the Society's DMW. That's what that does. Potentially endangering each of their lives by stranding them in unfamiliar dimensions, and preventing them from correcting canon events."Â
You feel bad for teasing him when you see the look on his face, anger and exhaustion and the slimmest allowance of defeat. It must be tough to lead the Spider-Society. Tougher to micromanage more than half of its members.Â
Pulling your hand from under his, you cross your arms over your stomach and give him an apologetic frown. "Sorry, Miguel."
Evidence of his sweet spot for you lines his expression, softening his sharp jaw and the stoic set of his brow. It's gone as quick as it came, and his mask falls back into place. He turns away from you as though pretending you aren't there and scans one of his holographic screens, his face glowing with a yellow-orange haze.Â
Miguel has to tolerate you, because you're a Spider-Girl. Though you've never called yourself that aloud, and you're not sure anyone else has, either, it's an undeniable truth. You were bitten by a radioactive spider that gave you super mutant abilities, though yours aren't as potent as others. You're not especially strong, you probably couldn't stop a bus with your bare hands, but you're smart. You haven't saved the world or anything, but you lost your Uncle Ben. You paid the toll.Â
Every spider person has lost someone. Miguel seems to have lost more than that.Â
"You know," you mumble, kicking the ground lightly to make your chair spin on its axle, "I've been thinkingâŚ"Â
"That's never good."Â
"Why do we wear our suits here?" you ask, spinning for a second time, the room moving past your eyes in flashes. "It seems performative."Â
"Ah, I can answer that. Some of us work when we're here."Â
You wrinkle your nose at his deadpan and kick the floor again, spinning so fast it makes you laugh. "What did you say? I can't hear you from your high horseâ woah!"Â
Miguel grabs the back of your chair, bringing you to a sudden and firm stop. You blink hoping it'll assuage the dizziness between your eyes, and when it doesn't work you keel forward, muttering, "Woah, I'm gonna die."Â
"You won't die."Â
"How do you know?" you ask.Â
"You're under my watch, aren't you?"Â
"I knew you liked me," you say. "Oh, I don't feel well."Â
"You brought it on yourself."Â
You catch your breath. When you feel okay enough to stand you almost trip, and Miguel doesn't bother pretending that he had any intention of stopping you from landing flat on your face. The you before the spider bite would've wiped out. This you giggles and holds Miguel's elbow for a second while you plant your feet.Â
"Okay, boss-man," you ask, looking up at the unnaturally high screen he's investigating. "What are we doing today?"Â
"I'm supervising a task force operation on Earth-31913. You're going home."Â
"Miguel," you say, not sure if you want to flirt with him or piss him off. He looks incredibly pissed off already, so you choose flirtation. "Have I told you how handsome you look this evening?"Â
He doesn't react. His hands don't so much as shift where they're akimbo on his hips.Â
"You really have the most handsome eyes," you continue, weaving around his arm to stand in front of him. You have to crane your neck to see them. "Sulky. Do I really have to go home? I'd rather stay here with you."Â
He looks down his nose at you. "Yeah?" he asks quietly, his voice rough as hewn stone.
"Yeah," you say, taking a small step back.Â
"And do what?"Â
You mirror his stance, hands on your hips. Your suit isn't form fitting like his, doesn't showcase nearly so much lean muscle, but you like it. You'd chosen a simple black ensemble to match the spider who bit you with a pinky purple heart over your stomach. Miguel had asked about it once, just once, when you'd first met and he had no idea how much of a problem for him you were going to become.Â
Why there?Â
Why do you think? you'd asked, giving him a sticky-sweet smile.Â
Forget I asked.Â
He lifts a hand to your chin, pinching it between two deft fingers. You're lucky he isn't wearing his gloves; his claws would pierce your jaw.Â
"What do you want to do?" he asks, again so quietly. "If you stay?"Â
"I could help with the task force."Â
"That's what you want to do?"Â
You flush with heat but refuse to let him know how you're feeling. Your heart bumps against your ribs, breath caught in your throat as he tilts your head up, as he leans down.Â
"No," he says near your lips, "that's not it."Â
"I could help you?" you offer.Â
Something flashes in his eyes. You hesitate to call it lust. It reminds you of a cat with a mouse in itâs clutches, only his pupils are blown, black and inky and wide as dimes.Â
"You want to help me?" he asks, his lips an inch, half of that from yours.Â
You nod minutely. "Yes," you say under your breath.Â
His hand moves to your cheek. He leans in closer and closer, until there's a hair's width of air between his mouth and yours, the tips of your noses bent together. His breath fans over your bottom lip and it's hot. You swear you can feel his heart as his chest presses to yours. He lingers there for an endless handful of seconds, silently egging you on.
You call his bluff and refuse to close the distance.Â
Miguel pushes you away from him, far from cruel but certainly not sweet. "I have a tower of paperwork you can file," he says.Â
"Here I thought you were finally going to bite my head off," you hum. "You're a sore loser, Miguel."Â
"And you're my pest," he says, holding your gaze for a half-second too long. He turns away. "Lyla? Arrange the recounts from the last canon event for Spider-Girl's perusal, please."Â
"So you've remembered I'm here?" Lyla asks wryly.
You don't mind the paperwork. You sign each one with a winky face and a pink gel pen heart, knowing Miguel will go over them all again, and knowing he'll grow angrier and angrier with each heart.
He'll kiss you and mean it one day. You just have to play the waiting game.
ËĘâĄÉË
thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
#miguel oâhara x reader#miguel oâhara x you#miguel oâhara x y/n#miguel oâhara x fem!reader#miguel oâhara#miguel oâhara fanfiction#miguel oâhara fanfic#miguel oâhara fic#miguel oâhara drabble#miguel oâhara scenario#miguel oâhara blurb#miguel oâhara oneshot#spider-man: across the spider-verse#spider-man: across the spider-verse spoilers#spider-man: across the spider-verse fanfiction#across the spider-verse spoilers#across the spider verse spoilers#across the spiderverse spoilers#spiderman across the spider-verse spoilers#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel ohara x fem!reader#miguel ohara#miguel ohara fanfiction#miguel ohara fanfic#miguel ohara fic#miguel ohara drabble#miguel ohara blurb#miguel and spidergirl reader
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
accidental eavesdropping (steddie ficlet)
based on this post by @imjust-that-shy. i hope i did this vision justice <3
The doors to the bathroom burst open, and - on some pure, inexplicable instinct and with nearly inhuman speed - Eddie darts back into the stall he'd just been about to come out of and leaps to perch on top of the toilet seat, crouched there like some sort of creature.Â
He hears the sound of retching and the stench of vomit fills the air. He holds his breath, wrinkling his nose and trying to imagine what possible context could be behind Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley bursting in here together to puke their guts out. Eddie knows the two of them work together, heâs seen them sharing shifts at Scoops Ahoy when he's walked by. (Not that he often intentionally passes by the ice cream parlor and slows down just to catch a glimpse of Steve or anything⌠Although who could really blame him if he did? Like, come on, Steve in that uniform? Hello, sailor.) His mind is busy spinning stories of possible explanations, ranging from spoiled ice cream to sneaking alcohol and getting too drunk during their break.Â
Eddie's leaning towards the 'drinking on the job' explanation, especially when the retching finally ceases and Robin says something about the room no longer spinning. Those little rebels, Eddie thinks approvingly.
âWhenâs the last time you, uhâŚpeed your pants,â Steve is asking Robin now, in response to her telling him in a Russian accent to interrogate her.Â
Eddie curls over his knees, tilting his head to try to peer through the gap between the stalls and the floor to put an image to his eavesdropping. Might as well, heâs kind of stuck here and thereâs really not much else he can do right now. He can see Steveâs legs, one bent and the other stretched out in front of him, and Robin in the stall past him laying on the floor with her legs up against the stall wall as she answers, âTodayâŚâÂ
âWhat?â Steve questions.
âWhen the Russian doctor took out the bone saw!â Robin says.Â
OkayâŚwhat? Russian doctors and bone saws? Eddieâs now thoroughly intrigued, if a little (okay, a lot) confused. Maybe theyâre talking about a movie they watched or something.
Steveâs legs shake with his laughter. âOh my god.âÂ
âIt was just a little bit, though.â Robin pinches her fingers together as she twists her body in Steveâs direction while he laughs again and mutters that whatever it is they took is still in her system. She pushes her feet off the stall and slides to sit against the opposite wall. Eddie can only see her legs now. âOkay, my turn. Have youâŚever been in love?âÂ
Steve answers that he has, with Nancy, and makes a sound mimicking an explosion. Eddie remembers that, remembers seeing Steve and Nancy being all touchy and cute in the hallways at school while he was trying his damndest to convince himself that he absolutely definitely did not wish he was in Nancyâs place. It didnât work very well. And itâs not working very well now either as Steve starts to go on about some new girl he likes now instead - some girl whoâs funny and smart and can crack secret Russian codes (okay, seriously, what is it with these two and Russians?) and oh shit, heâs talking about Robin.Â
Eddie very suddenly feels like he should not be here listening to this, eavesdropping on Steve confessing his feelings for someone. Not only is that, like, a private and personal thing, but also what if Robin likes him back and they start kissing or something right here in this bathroom where Eddie has to sit here and listen to it and that would just be horrible for him for so many reasons and- Eddieâs getting ahead of himself. Robin hasnât even said anything yet, and her knees are pulled up to her chest and her voice shakes when she confirms sheâs still alive after Steve asks if sheâs ODâd there in the silence and she uncurls with a deep sigh. All signs that she doesnât actually like Steve back.Â
Eddie watches as Steve shifts and slides under the stall into Robinâs, and catches sight of the nasty bruise marring nearly half of Steveâs otherwise beautiful face as he does so. Now concern has been added to the list of emotions this eavesdropping experience has rollercoastered him through so far. The bruise looks fairly fresh and Eddie canât help but wonder what the hell gave Steve a black eye like that and if heâs okay.Â
After a brief spiral of concern for Steveâs face, Eddie tunes back into reality to find himself staring at Steveâs ass as Steve now sits with his back against the stall wall opposite Robin. Eddie blinks, expands his tunnel vision to include Steveâs lower back and Robinâs legs which are also visible beneath the gap in the stalls.Â
âItâs not because I had a crush on you,â Robin is saying. âItâs becauseâŚshe wouldnât stop staring at you.â
âMrs. Click?â Steve sounds confused.
âTammy Thompson,â Robin clarifies. âI wanted her to look at me.â
Oh. Eddie should really not be listening to this. Robin is trying to come out to Steve, trying to share something deeply personal and vulnerable with him and only him, not knowing that sheâs outing herself to an eavesdropping near-stranger as well. Eddie feels violating and intruding. He canât imagine how he would feel if he found out someone he barely knew had been secretly listening in on him coming out - probably not great, probably terrified. This is something he shouldnât know, not like this.Â
âBut Tammy Thompsonâs a girl,â Steve says, his tone unreadable, and Eddieâs heart nearly stops, sure his own anticipatory anxiety is likely only just a fraction of what Robin must be feeling right now.Â
âSteveâŚâÂ
âYeah?â A pause. âOh,â Steveâs voice goes soft. âOh⌠Holy shit.âÂ
âYeah,â Robin sighs. Eddie can see her hands nervously rubbing at her shins. âHoly shit.âÂ
Steve is silent for a few painfully long moments. Eddieâs hands curl nervously around his own shins. Is Steve going to be homophobic? Should Eddie be worried for Robin now?Â
âSteve, did you OD over there?â Robin asks, trying to be light but Eddie can hear the anxiety in her voice.Â
âNo, I just, uh- just thinking,â Steve responds.Â
âOkayâŚâ Robinâs voice is barely audible. Eddie is holding his breath.
âI mean, yeah,â Steve says finally, âTammy Thompsonâs cute and all, but the only reason I never gave her the time of day was because I was too busy staring at Eddie Munson.âÂ
The aforementioned Eddie Munson releases the breath heâd been holding with an involuntary squeak and claps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, neither of them heard him over the sound of Robin shouting. âWhat?! Eddie Munson?! You liked Eddie Munson?â she squawks, voicing Eddieâs own stunned thoughts perfectly.
âYeah,â Steve confirms casually, completely unaware that he's throwing an eavesdropping Eddie into an absolute crisis right now. There's a soft thudding sound like Steve's hitting the back of his head against the stall wall. His voice gets kind of wistful, almost dreamy, as he says, âHis rings, man. Rings and tattoosâŚand that long hair and those chains he'd wear⌠Honestly just his whole punk aesthetic thing had me mesmerized.âÂ
âPretty sure he's metal, not punk,â Robin corrects him.Â
Thanks, Robin. Also, what the fuck is happening right now?Â
âWhatever. Still hot as hell,â Steve says.Â
Eddie squeaks again and practically shoves his whole fist in his mouth to keep himself from making any more noise, his teeth knocking against his rings. The rings Steve likes, apparently. He feels like he's going to pass out, his heart beating so erratically it's making him lightheaded. King Steve - the popular, preppy, stupid, gorgeous, dumb jock Eddie's been crushing on since forever - just called him hot???? Â
âDid you hear that?â Robin asks suddenly, voice low and cautious.Â
Shit.Â
âIs anyone else in here?â Steve calls out.Â
Fuck.Â
Eddie bites down hard on his knuckles and holds his breath, going impossibly still. If they get up and search the bathroom, then heâs about to be caught red handed, crouched on top of a toilet seat with his fist in his mouth and his face flushed scarlet, eavesdropping on their private conversation about secret Russians and gay crushes. Eddie contemplates falling into the toilet and attempting to flush himself down it. Every god imaginable is receiving a silent prayer from him right now as he watches apprehensively through the gaps in the stall. One of those gods must've heard and taken pity on this poor gay disaster of a man crouched like a goblin in a bathroom stall, because after a few horrible seconds of silence, all Steve does is lean down to peer beneath the stalls for a moment before sitting back up and saying, âLooks empty. I think the drugs are making us hear things.âÂ
âYeah, probably,â Robin says. Then she giggles, knocking her leg against Steveâs. âI still canât believe you were into Eddie.âÂ
Steve flicks Robinâs knee. âI canât believe you were into Tammy.â
âWhatâs wrong with Tammy?!â Robin protests.
âWhatâs wrong with Eddie?â Steve counters. âAt least heâs actually got talent. Tammyâs a total dud - she wants to be a singer and shit but she canât even hold a tune.âÂ
Eddie is going to die. He is actually going to die right here, right now, because Steve Harrington thinks heâs hot and talented. And then Steve starts mimicking Tammy, singing Total Eclipse of the Heart in a ridiculously goofy voice, and now Eddie is going to die because he finds that so stupidly endearing and adorable. Maybe he should just flush himself down the toilet, save himself from this hopelessly pathetic crush of his. Instead, heâs saved by the bathroom doors bursting open again and a new voice shouting at them, âOkay. What the hell?!âÂ
Steve and Robin collapse into a fit of giggles before being dragged to their feet by the newcomers and led out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone and reeling and struggling to process literally everything heâs just overheard. He finally hops down from his toilet perch and exits the stall like heâs in a daze. Heâs not sure how long he had been camped out in there - probably only about ten minutes - but it felt like hours, so long that the world outside of that single bathroom stall almost feels foreign and unfamiliar now.Â
Eddie grips the bathroom sink and stares at his flustered reflection in the mirror and whispers to himself, âWhat the actual fuck?âÂ
---
Later, years later, only after he and Steve are already dating, Eddie tells him all about this experience, and Steve laughs so hard he nearly cries.
(ao3 link)
#saw that post and immediately wrote this within the next four hours lmao. i hope this is what you were imagining#i literally watched the s3 bathroom scene like five times to make this as accurate as possible lol#steddie#steve x eddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#steddie fanfiction#steddie fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#platonic stobin#season 3 steddie#stranger things#stranger things fic#ficlet#mine#5k#!!!!???!??!!!#holy shit y'all thanks for all the love on this <3
6K notes
¡
View notes
Text
(Happy happy birthday Noelle (@frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe) thank you for all your amazing fun facts which are the source for this little ficlet. I hope you enjoy <3)
For some reason, The Party had decided to rent Friday the 13th for their upcoming movie night at Steve's house. With all the shit they've been through, Steve thinks that maybe it's a strange choice, but he knows better than to question the kids.
"What a nice choice," Robin says sarcastically as she looks over Steve's shoulder at the tape. She hasn't quite grasped how defensive the teens can get, but they seem to respect her more than they respect Steve. Figures.
"Isn't it?" Dustin snarks back as he grabs the tape from the counter.
Max rolls her eyes and adds, "I said the same thing."
"Yeah, because you want to watch some shit like Cinderella," Mike whines.
"Does it ever hurt your tiny, sexist brain to think of those weak insults?" Max asks with her eyebrows raised.
Lucas tries to hide a laugh as Mike glares at him.
"Alright, alright, this is the Family Video. Take it outside if you guys are going to bicker," Steve says with a sigh as he moves to restack some tapes Dustin had nudged just to be annoying.
"You and Robin bicker all the time," Dustin says defensively.
Steve gives him a look. "Do you want to lose Harrington house privileges?"
Dustin sighs, looking like he really wants to argue before he turns around to the group and announces defeatedly, "Alright, let's get snacks before tonight."
As they're filing out the door, Dustin runs back to the counter and adds, "I almost forgot. Is it fine if Eddie comes?"
Steve shrugs, trying to look unphased by the question. "Sure," he says, voice cracking a bit.
Dustin instantly lights up. "Great! I already invited him, so that would've been awkward. See you later!"
Robin comes up to him and lightly shoves his shoulder. "Sure," she mocks him. "You're so smooth."
"Shut up," Steve says with a sigh. God, Robin will never let him live down what he thought to be his deathbed confession of his crush on Eddie. In reality, he was just put on so many painkillers in the hospital that he had gotten confused when he woke up in a hospital room.
And yeah, maybe the crush still hasn't gone away and Robin definitely knows, but he refuses to acknowledge it.
"You're going to be at the movie night, right?" Steve asks.
Robin groans. "I've already told you, I have my parent's anniversary dinner tonight."
"So, you'll be at my house tonight," Steve jokes.
"I wish."
Steve nudges her shoulder. He's already seen the obnoxious pictures of Robin and her parents from every year of their wedding anniversaries lining the walls of one particular hallway. It's endearing really, but Robin hates it.
"You better call me later if anything new develops between you and Eddie," Robin whispers although there's no one in the room.
Steve just nods, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks as he still refuses to verbally acknowledge the ridiculous crush that maybe fills his stomach with butterflies and all those obnoxious things.
He sighs and turns to Robin. "How am I going to survive tonight without you?"
"The world may never know," she says dramatically.
And really, the world may never know. At least, that's how Steve feels.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Okay, maybe Steve is a little bit of a mess.
Sure, Eddie has shown up, and Steve has been playing it cool, but it's like he can't take his eyes off him. He's made so much eye contact, he's sure that he's creeping Eddie out a bit or giving away his huge crush.
But heâs Steve Harrington. Like Steve âThe Hairâ Harrington. Inventor of the Harrington charm. All that stuff. And⌠Eddie has absolutely melted him into a puddle of goo. Christ.
By the time the movie starts, Steveâs head is practically buzzing with all his thoughts of Eddie is sitting next to me. What do I do? The kids are here, so I canât make a move. But I donât even know if he likes me.
Then, Maxâs question breaks through the thoughts as she asks, âWhen is the next Friday the 13th this year?â
âWell, fun fact, any month that starts on a Sunday will have a Friday the 13th,â Eddie says with a proud grin.
Steve ignores the kidsâ responses asking when that month is and the subsequent response from Eddie saying he doesnât know, but he just knows the fact.
But for some reason, the fact is absolutely blowing Steveâs mind.
And yes, maybe itâs because it came from Eddie, but truly, when Steve associates fact with something, it is never fun. But this truly is a⌠fun fact.
He must have a look on his face because Eddie eyes him and asks, âWhat?â
Steve just shrugs and says, âI just⌠really thought the fact was⌠fun.â Jesus, did his Harrington charm just evaporate or something?
But he thinks the honesty of it works for Eddie who smiles softly at him. âYeah?â
âYeah, how did you know that?â
Eddie swings an arm casually over the back of the couch and leans in. âIâm full of fun facts, Harrington.â He gives him a winks before leaning back.
Steve leans into his space, trying to close some of the distance between them. âTell me another one.â
Eddie laughs, âIâm going to max out my fun fact limit to one a day.â
âThat doesnât seem fair.â
Eddie tilts his head toward him. âItâs fair if it gives me an excuse to talk to you every day.â
Okay, yeah. That was blatant flirting. Which Steve is about to match, until the kids decide now is the best time to interrupt and yell at them to be quiet as the movie starts.
As the movie goes on, Eddie and Steve drift closer together while trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible in front of the kids. They havenât talked about it, of course, but Steveâs pretty sure neither of them want to scar the kids. Or maybe, Steve just doesnât want the kids to very accurately point out his feelings for Eddie and force him to deal with them.
Unfortunately, this also means that Steve doesnât get a moment alone with Eddie to further flirt with him or try to push him for another fact. But maybe itâs not such a bad thing. Especially since Eddie gave him an excuse to talk to him tomorrow.
-:-:-:-:-:-
âWhatâs another fun fact?â Steve asks as soon as he hears Eddie on the other line.
âChrist, I just woke up. Give my brain a few seconds,â Eddie groans into the phone, voice rough with sleep.
Steve smiles. âGood morning by the way,â he says sweetly.
âGood morning,â Eddie replies back, sounding a bit less grumpy. Thereâs a bit of shuffling on his side of the phone before he says, âItâs illegal to feed pigeons on the streets of San Francisco.â
Steveâs jaw drops. âThereâs no way!â
âGo ahead and feed a pigeon there then,â Eddie says with a laugh.
âMaybe I will. If you come with me and promise to bail me out.â
Eddie hums on the other line. âI donât know. I think it would be fun to spend a night in a jail cell with you. Maybe Iâll join you in your crime.â
âScratch that, Iâm bailing you out.â
âThatâs sounds about right, Bonnie.â
âBonnie?â Steve questions, feeling like heâs missed something.
Eddie gasps on the other line. âLike Bonnie and Clyde!â
Steve doesnât respond, waiting for Eddie to fill him in.
âOkay, this doesnât count as a fun fact because this is just a story of one of the greatest crime couples to ever exist,â Eddie says excitedly, rambling on about the two.
Steve sits back, cheeks hurting from smiling a little too hard as he listens to Eddie and tries not to linger too much on the fact he compared the two of them to a real life couple.
-:-:-:-:-:-
The phone calls continue every day, but the fun facts really are just a starting point to a long drawn out conversation about whateverâs on their mind.
Robin has pretended to get tired whenever Steve calls her right after Eddie has to hang up or spends hours talking about Eddie during their shift at the Family Video. But he knows sheâs secretly just as enthralled about the fun facts as he is.
âDid you know that the Statue of Liberty wears a size eight hundred seventy nine shoe?â Steve asks Robin, still in disbelief over the fact.
âSounds like youâre talking about me,â Eddie says, somehow coming into the store without Steve noticing.
Steveâs heart beats a little harder as he turns to him. âAll good things of course,â Steve says with a wink.
âI was scared you were passing off my facts to Buckley as if they were your own for a second there,â Eddie says, leaning across the the counter.
âAnd what if I was?â Steve challenges, leaning on the counter.
âThen, I would have to revoke my daily fun fact.â
Steveâs jaw drops. âYouâd never.â
Eddie shrugs. âMaybe youâll just have to see.â
Steve just laughs and shoves his shoulder lightly. âWhat are you doing here though? Coming to deliver my fun fact in person?â
Eddie blushes and looks down. âNo, I was actually just⌠wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight.â
âSounds good,â Steve says automatically, not even stopping to think if he has any other plans.
âIâll see you after your shift then?â Eddie asks, tilting his head a bit.
âIâll see you then,â Steve confirms with a smile.
Eddie nods and turns to leave.
âOh, wait!â Steve calls out.
Eddie turns around.
âYou havenât told me your fun fact for today.â
Eddie smiles. âYouâll just have to wait until tonight. After all, itâs a pretty good excuse to make sure you come over.â
Steve scoffs, âAs if thatâs the only reason.â
Eddie just pulls his hair in front of his face as his smile gets a little wider. âSee you soon.â
âBye,â Steve says, waggling his fingers at him.
âHoly shit,â Robin says, startling Steve. âI thought you said your crush was hopeless.â
Steve just shrugs. âItâs Eddie, he flirts with everyone.â
âNot like that.â
Steve pauses and thinks back on their conversation and all the flirtatious banter leading up to this moment. Maybe sheâs right, but also he remembers⌠âDid you know that bubble wrap was invented by accident?â
Robin runs a hand over her face and says, âYou two are going to be the death of me, I can already tell.â
Steve just smiles and thinks maybe they will be.
-:-:-:-:-:-
A few hours later, he shows up at Eddieâs, trying not to overthink things too much.
They were just hanging out. Just⌠two people⌠hanging out⌠alone⌠who flirt all the timeâŚ. And one definitely has a major crush on the other.
Eddie opens the door to the trailer immediately after Steve knocks only a single time. âI heard your car pull up,â he explains as soon as the door is open.
âBeen lingering at the door for long?â Steve teases.
âHours,â Eddie replies dramatically. But thereâs a hint of nervous energy that Steve canât help but pick up on. âCome on in.â
Steve steps inside and is hit with the smell of spaghetti and breadsticks. âDid you make dinner?â
âNah, I picked it up from Enzoâs,â Eddie says with a smile before closing the door behind him and gesturing to the couch where two plates are laid out. âI thought we could⌠watch a movie while we ate or⌠something.â
âYeah, Iâd like that,â Steve replies with a smile, noticing the way his response relieves some of the nervous energy that is consuming Eddie.
âPerfect, right this way madam,â he jokes as he leads Steve to the couch with his hand resting on the dip of his lower back.
Steve sits down and canât help but ask, âSo, what fun fact did you make me wait for?â
Eddie freezes and curses, âShit, you were supposed to ask that after all of this.â
Steveâs eyebrows furrow. âWhy?â He asks nervously.
Eddie fidgets with his rings and mumbles, âOkay, you can do it.â Then, he turns back to Steve and says, âFun fact⌠Iâve been dying to ask you out for a while now, and⌠I was hoping that this could be a date? And further fun fact, I will absolutely shut up forever if I read things wrong, and Iâm so sorry if I did. Oh shit. Did I? Because really, I thought-â
âEddie,â Steve interrupts him quickly, placing a hand over his. âI think itâs finally time that I share a fun fact with you.â
Eddie nods, eyes wide and scared.
âFun fact,â Steve says and takes a deep breath, âIâm really upset that you beat me to asking you out because Iâm a damn chicken. And fun fact, Iâve liked you since I saw you interacting with Dustin for the first time. And you can confirm the fact with Robin who I told while I thought I was on my deathbed.â
Eddieâs expression slowly morphs from fear to relief to happiness. âAnd thatâs really all a fact?â
âYes. Fun ones I hope.â
âVery very fun,â Eddie says with a laugh. He worries his bottom lip before saying, âFun fact, I really want to kiss you.â
âFun fact,â Steve echoes cheesily. âI would love to kiss you.â
And he does exactly that.
(Later on, Steve calls Robin from Eddieâs house and yells, âFun fact, I just kissed Eddie!â Into the phone so loudly that Robin complains that his âfun factâ is giving her ear damage. But she also lets him know that sheâs happy for him, as long as he doesnât keeps phrasing everything as a fun fact.
Only, Steve canât help it, when everything involving Eddie becomes the best facts he knows.)
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
oh no i'm having more soft Ghoap thoughts
okokko this is more of a little ficlet thing but it makes my lil heart happy so enjoy <3
also y'all i do not be editing these. at all. I just be throwin shit down on paper and making my brain produce dopamine.
if you all have any requests though pls feel free to drop into my ask box <3 I will gladly write whatever. I'm sure i'll come up with rules eventually, but rn I'm pretty open-minded and can't think of much I would refuse <3
You're waltzing around your apartment, half asleep but with a tired smile on your face. Johnny comes back today, after all, and of course that means Simon will be coming too! You've been dating Johnny exclusively for a few months now. Sure, sometimes Simon will hold your hand, or pull you in for a hug. And sure, sometimes Simon sits with you in the early mornings on the balcony while you drink a warm drink, and he smokes a cigarette- looking at you with rapt attention and soft eyes, hanging onto every word you say. Okay, and maybe he calls you 'love' and 'darling' but he's British, so it's probably normal. But it's entirely platonic- you're at least 78% sure, and plus only Johnny had asked you out- so you have to stay loyal to him even if you do feel something for the bigger brute.
But! You need to get your ass into gear and make your boys- boy something to eat- knowing damn well they- he will be hungry when they- ah fuck it. You're going to cook them a good ass meal to enjoy- knowing they will enjoy it after a month of MRE's and shitty mess hall food (Johnny's words). So you do. You work away in the kitchen- though the clock reads barely past 2AM, knowing they should arrive around 3AM at this point. You've timed it perfectly, so by the time you set everything out on the kitchen island, still steaming and hot, you hear the familiar playful rapt at your door.
ba ba baba ba
With a grin you glance over the selection of food first- mashed potatoes, green beans, fried pork chops, and freshly made black tea- you make your way over to the door and open it with a grin. "'m glad you're back!" You bout out happily, sending both men a bright grin despite your slightly tired eyes along with theirs. "Missed ye, bonnie," Johnny is quick to just waltz right on in, arms wrapping around you and lifting you up slightly with one hand, his other hand occupied carrying his duffel bag.
A snort of amusement leaves your lips as you hug him back, pressing a kiss to his lips before batting at him to put you down- though he doesn't hesitate once he notices the smell in the house. "Oooh, what's this, bonnie?" Johnny hums out, dropping his bag somewhere in the living room as he makes his way to the kitchen.
A soft laugh leaves your lips at his reaction, but you don't bother to answer him as you turn your attention to Simon, whose closing the door behind him. He's wearing his usual little black medical mask- the one he wears in place of the balaclava when he's off duty.
So imagine your utter shock and dumb fuck surprise when he pulls the thing down, steps forward, places a gentle hand on your cheek and kisses you. "Missed ya, too, love," Simon quips easily, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before simply dropping his bag and just walking right into the kitchen.
Sir, I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?! It's a thought, no words leave your lips as your cheeks heat up.
Oh no, you just cheated on your boyfriend- in the same house with him- with his best friend.
WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU DO NOW?!
Apparently, nothing but walk into the kitchen with your boys, watching as the two of them are already seated with stacked plates in front of them. You blink blankly at the scene.
You hesitate before taking a seat, sitting across from Johnny and resting your hands on the table, looking between the two of them as they converse casually.
"Take such good care o' us, bonnie, dunnae ken what I did to deserve ya," Johnny quips, looking at you with bright blue eyes and a genuinely content smile on his face between shoveling bites of food.
"Stopped bein' a bloody prick fer more than two seconds," Simon says, voice low and monotone yet somehow tinged with amusement.
You blink again. Huh "You kissed me?" You say it as a statement, but it comes out as a question as you look at Simon, ignoring their banter even though it makes you want to snort in amusement. You're too dumbfounded and bewildered right now to handle this situation. "Uh huh." Simon responds, flatly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world as he takes a bite of mashed potatoes. Johnny looks between the two of you, a slow smirk pulling at his lips, "LT, you sly dog," Johnny murmurs with clear amusement, elbowing the bigger man in the side playfully. You sputter for a moment, looking back over at Johnny, "A-and you're just- okay with that?!" You ask in utter confusion, bewildered but not exactly disappointed at the scene.
So you didn't cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend? Johnny looks at you and this time he blinks in confusion before turning his head and grabbing Simon's jaw, pulling him close and planting a kiss on Simon's lips, causing Simon to grunt in annoyance- only because he was still eating.
Johnny turns back to you with a shrug, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Even?" You stare at the scene with heated cheeks before throwing your hands up in defeat, "...Even." You relent with a huff. ....can't cheat on your boyfriend with your other boyfriend who is also your boyfriends boyfriend you suppose.
#simon riley x you#cod x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#141 x reader#sammys soft times#simon ghost riley x reader#ghoap x reader#simon ghost riley x reader x john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#soap x ghost x reader#ghost x reader x soap#johnny mactavish x reader
574 notes
¡
View notes
Note
I jusr re-read Mrs. Williamson and the idea of rxLeah with Alessia as the little sister is something I can't get out of my head. So I have a suggestion, I thought about her usually being a little shit (like in the story) but then also being very protective of her older sister. Maybe r and Leah have a fight and Alessia is very protective but in a sweet way not a mean way towards Leah, more like pampering r but being firm in demanding an apology from Leah. Or something along those lines, would love to read something like thins from you! :)
mrs williamson ficlet, continuing on from here
alessia had answered your call as she usually would, with a sarcastic remark about never gaining back the minutes of her life you were about to drain her from. though the very second you'd spoken and she heard the way your voice cracked she was sitting bolt upright with a frown.
"what happened? are you okay? is the baby okay?" "the baby is fine. can you come over please?"
she was there in record time, grateful to have not been pulled over the way with the way she sped through the last two sets of lights before pulling into your driveway.
the first thing alessia noticed was the lack of your wifes car in the driveway and her eyebrows knitted together, grabbing her bag and kicking her door shut she jogged up the front steps.
you'd already opened the front door before she even reached it, and her features softened seeing your red puffy eyes clearly indicating you'd been crying. "whats happened then?" your younger sister pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing your back which was aching given you were now five months pregnant.
you only shook your head not able to even speak as alessia sighed, shuffling the two of you inside and closing the door as you let go of her. "where's leah?" alessia asked gently as she followed you into the kitchen, the scoff and roll of your eyes all she needed to know the blonde was clearly not in your good books.
"not here." you muttered, moving to grab two mugs from the cupboard as alessia appeared behind you. "i'll do it, sit down please." she shooed you away ignoring your protests, helping you sit down carefully on the lounge.
"shit you're huge now." she remarked bluntly as you struggled to take your hoodie off, the piercing glare sent her way having her eyes widen. "not like that! just, you know." alessia gestured awkwardly to her stomach, wincing as you continued to blankly stare at her.
"i'll get the tea!" she announced, darting back to the kitchen as you rolled your eyes and glanced down to your phone beside you which was lighting up with notifications, turning it over and not bothering to even look at them.
alessia returned and shot you a filthy look as you made a comment you were surprised she managed to carry both mugs in and not spill a drop, your younger sister notoriously clumsy.
"so dear sister. self care day?"
~
"is it supposed to feel sort of like its burning?" you questioned with a slight frown, touching your cheeks which were coated in a charcoal facemask alessia had gifted you ages ago and had remained untouched.
"yes! that means its working to get rid of all your wrinkles." alessia mumbled as you kicked her with a glare for the comment. "hey! you're messing up my artwork." the blonde scowled, tugging your foot back into her lap where she was painting your toenails having already done your nails.
"so will you tell me now what you and leah are fighting about?" your sister asked glancing up at you curiously, not having pushed you too much but still in the dark on why it was that your wife was nowhere to be found and you'd clearly been crying when she showed up.
though as you shook your head the striker sighed but again didn't push you, knowing better than to try and get information out of you that you clearly weren't ready to share.
despite how much of a kick she got from winding you up and messing with you this was one of those rare occasions you were grateful for her, and the quiet thank you mumbled to her was all she needed for a grin to settle into her features.
you feared she'd hold this against you for her own gain in the future but for now you were just relishing in her efforts to make you feel better, no matter how much you might argue the two of you were still incredibly close and despite being younger alessia had always been fiercely protective.
which is why when the door rang and she glanced over your head to see leahs car was now parked in the driveway alessia was quick to her feet, ordering you to let your nails dry and handing you some micellar wipes to remove the mask from your face.
"leah." your sister spoke dryly as she opened the door, the older girl caught off guard as she frowned. "alessia?" she answered with a raised eyebrow. "why are you here then?" the younger blonde challenged, effectively blocking the doorway as leah gave her a strange look.
"well because i live here. why exactly are you here less?" "i'm here because my heavily pregnant sister called me crying and upset, which i can only assume is your doing. so, come to apologise then?"
"did she tell you why she's upset?" leah narrowed her eyes trying to step inside as alessia protectively spread herself to further block the door. "she didn't need to." alessia quipped back causing leah to exhale deeply.
"babe!" leah cupped her hands and yelled out into the house making alessia roll her eyes. "what?" you hovered behind your sister, eyes slit into a glare and arms crossed over her chest.
"this is so stupid love. what have you done?" leah sighed as alessia scoffed. "what has she done?" the taller girl retorted as your hand fell to her shoulder gaining her attention.
"you left me leah." "i what!?
"you left her while she's nearly six months pregnant leah what the hell is the matter with you!" alessia angrily lunged for her team mate who hastily stepped back as you pulled your sister inside by the back of her jumper and mumbled for her to stop it.
"i didn't leave you! i went to the shops!" leah gestured to the bags by her feet as alessia fell silent and took a step back as you stepped forward. "i woke up and you were gone, your car was gone, there wasn't a note and you left your house keys behind." your eyes welled up with tears as leahs face softened.
"baby i've sent you like a hundred messages. i knew you were upset i couldn't find the peanut butter ice cream last night so i've gone to like ten different stores till i found it." leah picked up one of the bags and showed you its contents.
"im sorry!" you burst out into tears as your wife hurried to pull you into a hug, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear and rubbing your back.
"sorry, pause!" alessia laughed in disbelief, leah shooting her a warning glare which was ignored. "she went to the shops for a few hours and you thought she left you?" alessia shook her head, running a hand down her face with a shake of her head.
"alessia i am pregnant and hormonal okay!" you sobbed as leah shushed you and placed a kiss to your forehead. "oh my-" alessia wasted no time grabbing her keys and pushing past you.
"if you weren't pregnant i would throw you down these stairs!" your sister seethed, pausing to take a deep breath as she caught leahs eye who smiled apologetically.
"you are hereby banned from calling me unless its about the baby, you're dying, you're in labour or seriously injured." your sister warned seriously, pointing at you with a menacing look before huffing and storming off down the driveway.
"i love you!" you yelled after her, a middle finger all you got in response as you buried your face in your wifes chest and she helped you inside, still cradling you tightly in her arms.
"darling you seriously thought i left you? why didn't you just call me or read my messages?" "again, very pregnant and very hormonal okay i wasn't able to think!" "right right sorry my love, lets get some ice cream into you then. i love you very very much...even if you're a little unhinged." "leah i heard that!"
#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#woso#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#alessia russo x reader#engwnt#woso community#woso blurbs#alessia russo
739 notes
¡
View notes
Text
thoughts had while traveling turned into a ficlet
[E]
-
After university, Hob had always kind of assumed they'd end up in the same place. He doesnât know why he was so foolish as to think that. But he was always foolish about Dream.
Hob had stuck around in London. He liked traveling, liked seeing new places, but London was home. And it was nice to feel like he had roots somewhere. Like he was maybe sort of building a life.
Dream, meanwhile, had essentially vanished.
Heâd picked up some kind of remote editing job that he could do anywhere on top of his writing, and took full advantage of it to bounce all over the globe. Hob didnât even know all of the places heâd lived, Dream moved so often.
Heâd been in Los Angeles for a while and apparently hated it. Heâd been in Singapore for about six months at some point. Then heâd been in Istanbulâ or was Istanbul before? At one point heâd been in a rural village in Slovenia.
(Hob got emails about these things.)
Then at one point, heâd been in Paris, which at least seemed to suit him a tiny bit better. Still hadnât last long, though.
Now, Hobâs not sure where he is. He tries not to take it personally. Tries not to take it like he wasnât enough for Dream to want to stay. Dream just had some things to figure out, he thinks. Thatâs all.
One day, seemingly at random, he gets a FaceTime call.
âHob.â
Hob squints at the screen. Itâs very bright. He can barely make Dream out. âWhere are you?â
âRhodes,â Dream says.
He pans the phone around to show Hob what must be just about the most gorgeous beach heâs ever seen. Itâs a little cove with fishing boats bobbing, water still and sun-drenched.
Dream turns the camera back around. He looks like heâs been crying, eyes red-rimmed, eyeliner smudging. Heâs sitting on the sand, phone propped on his knees.
âWhatâs wrong?â Hob asks, alarmed.
âIs it better,â Dream wonders, âto be full of despair on a beautiful beach, or does it not matter?â
âWhat dâyou mean?â
Dream wipes at his eyes. âI. I thought if I just went. Somewhere. That it would get better. Death even said. Try changing your environment. I did. I did.â
âYou did, you went to a lot of places, didnât you?â
Dream nods, and sniffles. âWhy didnât it fix anything?â
âOh, darling.â So thatâs what it is. Heâs just running away from himself.
âWhat is wrong with me,â Dream continues, âthat. I am sat watching the sunset in one of the most beautiful corners of the world. And I feel nothing.â
âItâs not the corner of the world that's the issue,â Hob says, and Dream sighs, sniffling again.
âI want to go home,â he says, despondent.
âCome home, then.â
âIs that still with you? After all Iâve put you through?â
âYeah, Dream.â To my peril. But Hob will never be able to turn Dream away. âIt is.â
Dream nods. âOkay.â Then he stands. âI suppose I may as well go for a swim, while I am still here.â
âNot going to drown yourself, are you?â
Dream huffs. âNo.â
He risks the fate of his phone taking Hob with him, though. Holds it above the surface as he treads water, hair increasingly fluffy and clumped together from salt.
âIt really is gorgeous,â Hob tells him. The water is so, so blue and the sky so wide. âYouâre making me jealous.â
Dream smiles faintly. âYou would enjoy it better than I.â
âMaybe. Iâm enjoying watching you though.â
âOh?â Dream raises an eyebrow. Only his throat is visible above the water, but itâs enough. Hob can imagine the rest. His attraction to Dreamâs never wavered. âTell me more.â
âCome home and find out instead, idiot.â
Dream smiles. âHmm.â
âOh yeah, hmm.â
Dreamâs smile widens. God, heâs so gorgeous. âYouâre making me want to leave now.â
âDo it then.â
âOkay.â He starts swimming back to shore, and Hob laughs.
âI missed you, you maniac.â
âI missed you,â Dream echoes.
âSâgonna be okay, yeah?â Hob tells him. âSo Rhodes didnât fix anything. Itâs alright.â
âItâs alright,â Dream echoes, eyes looking misty again.
âJust come home.â Hob canât promise to fix anything. But he can promise Dream a home.
âYes,â Dream agrees, sea water flowing around his throat, sunset in his hair. âYes.â
-
Hob half-expects Dream actually wonât. That the flash of melancholic clarity will give way to his usual method of running, that Hob will get an email that heâs now in Samarkand or somewhere and isnât actually coming âhome.â Maybe London isnât really home for him. He hasnât been there in years anyway. Maybe.
But one day Dream wanders into the pub they used to get Friday drinks in, the pub Hobâs taken up bartending in, partly for the extra cash, partly to feel closer to Dream.
Hob drops a glass when he sees him, Dream flinching at the crash where he stands in the doorway. Hob ducks behind the bar to clean it up, heart pounding. God, heâs actually here. After three years.
When he stands again, Dream is standing right before the bar, looking uncertain. Heâs terribly underdressed for the weather, hair damn from the rain, black t-shirt sticking to his shoulders.
âUm,â Hob says, wringing a bar towel in his hands. âGet you your usual?â
Not that Dreamâs usual is necessarily the same, after all this timeâ
Dream leans across the bar and hugs him.
âMy usual,â he says, voice so close to Hobâs ear now that he shivers. Dreamâs damp hair tickles his cheek. Hob ought to get a towel and dry him off.
He hugs Dream back, leaning awkwardly over the bar. âMissed you.â
Dream hums, finally releasing him. He takes a seat on a bar stool, a faint smile on his face now. On instinct Hob takes off his sweatshirtâNew Inn brandedâand gives it to him.
Dream takes it, gaze lingering on Hobâs face as he pulls it on. He immediately looks less frigid, though.
âIs it still the driest red on the menu that you want?â he asks, and Dream laughs.
âYes.â
Hob pours him one, sliding it across the bar. Their fingers brush. It feels, almost, like no time has passed at all. Nothing changed.
âSo,â Hob says, grateful there are no other customers awaiting his attention. âRhodes?â
âThe last of many,â Dream says wearily.
âLooked beautiful?â
âYes,â Dream agrees, and sips his wine.
âSo.â Itâs hard to ask what he really wants to ask. Are you actually back? Are you actually here for me? âAre you. You have somewhere to stay?â
âI am not wandering the streets,â Dream says with a half smile. âI have a hotel room. For now.â
âStill itinerant,â Hob says, before he can think better of it, and Dreamâs smile turns sad.
âYes.â
âLearn anything?â
âI learned that moving about doesnât fix anything when the problem is inside of you,â Dream says. Hob winces at the phrasing of it. Thereâs no problem with you, he wants to say. But he understands what Dreamâs getting at. âI do not know what does fix it,â Dream continues.
Hob doesnât either. He doesnât know what itâs like to be in Dreamâs head. âTry staying here, then,â Hob says. âWhatâve you got to lose?â
Dream studies him. âIndeed.â
It really does feel like nothing and everything has changed between them. But maybe not everything. And maybe itâs okay.
He rests his hand against Dreamâs on the bar. âFinish your wine,â he says. âAnd come home with me.â
Dream takes a final sip of his wine, eyes locked on Hobâs over the rim of his glass, and licks the red droplets from his lower lip as he takes Hobâs hand.
-
Hob has him bent over on the bed, bobbing his head on Hobâs cock, before theyâve had the chance to pass more than a few additional words. Dream seems not to need words, anyway. His expression is finally slack and peaceful, neck craning, eyelids fluttering, as he takes Hobâs cock down, down, down, Hobâs grip tight in his hair. He hasnât lost any of his skill in these intervening years, apparently. Or his enjoyment of it.
âYeah, thatâs it, darling,â Hob praises, thrusting up into his mouth. âGood. Youâre so perfect at this.â
Dream whines, the vibration traveling through Hobâs body, reaching awkwardly around himself to press needy fingers to his own hole.
âIâll do right by you, darling, donât worry, come here.â Hob pulls Dream off and hefts him up, sitting back so he can settle Dream in his lap. âDonât worry, love.â
Dream looks down at him with wide, dark eyes, breathing hard, mouth open and wet. He swallows, says, voice thready, âI need you in me.â
Hobâs heart thumps, hard. It hurts. âI know.â
Dream pushes his cheek into Hobâs temple, lips smearing saliva over his skin, clutching so tight at Hobâs shoulders it hurts. âHob.â
âShhh.â Hob holds him close as he works him open, Dream crying out and clutching at him with each touch. God, Hob remembers what he was like. He really hasnât changed at all.
When he finally sinks Dream down onto his cock, Dream lets out a long moan, then goes slack again as he shivers. Hob tries to breathe evenly and stay still, letting him adjust, no matter how good it feels to be buried in him again.
âIt has been too long,â Dream says, when his breathingâs evened out.
âDidnât have tons of adventures on all of your travels?â
Dream shakes his head. âNot the same.â
Itâs not the same. No one Hobâs hooked up with in the intervening years has been the same, either. No one else makes this feeling rear up in him, like he would do anything for the man in his arms, like he would dash himself to pieces just to have him. It might not be a good feeling but Hob wants it nonetheless.
He doesnât say all that. He says, âItâs not, no one takes me like you do, Iâve missed how gorgeous you are bouncing on my cock, missed how perfect it feels to fill you.â
âYes,â Dream says. âItâs so good. I missed that. Please, Hob.â
Hob hefts him in his lap, bouncing Dream on his cock. Dream cries out, holding to him tight. âYesâ!â
Fuck, he feels good. Heâs so pliant and wanting, need burning in his fingertips and his wet panting breaths by Hobâs ears. Hob would give him anything in the world.
âCame back just for this, didnât you?â he says. âDidnât you?â
âYes, yesâ I missedâ oh, Hob!â This as Hob nails his prostate, Dream wailing and clutching at him. Yes. Hob remembers exactly how it feels to make him feel like that. God, itâs everything to make him feel like that.
âMore,â Dream begs. âMore, harder.â
Hob will give him more. More and more until heâs full up on it, until itâs enough for him to feel satisfied, enough for him to cease his wanderings and stay.
He fucks Dream harder until Dreamâs reduced to incoherent wailing, throwing himself into Hobâs touch like to feel nothing and everything is a relief. And Hob feels everything, too: the tight heat of Dreamâs body, the dig of his fingertips, his wet panting breathsâand more than anything, the overwhelming want. He wants Dream. He has always wanted Dream.
Dream comes first, pushed over the edge with Hobâs hands on his waist and his cock rubbing over Hobâs belly. He cries out, and then wraps his arms around Hobâs shoulders, holding tight as Hob chases his own completion in his body.
Hob closes his eyes as he comes, just floating in the feeling of having Dream around him. Heâs missed that so much. Heâs missed Dream so much, in these years heâs been left behind.
He doesnât realize how emotional heâs gotten about it until he feels Dreamâs fingertips tracing over his cheeks, wiping away tears.
âSorry,â Hob says, voice choked, holding Dream close even as he gently slips from his body.
Dream strokes his hair. âPerhaps I ought to go,â he says quietly, but makes no move to get up. âI fear I am being unfair to you.â
âIâm the one that told you to come back. Wanted you to.â Even if it just breaks his heart all over again, when Dream decides he still isnât happy, and canât stay.
âEven so.â
Still he doesnât move to get up. Hob runs his hands up and down his back, just feeling him.
âI donât know how you do it,â Dream continues some time later, still stroking Hobâs hair. Hobâs long since buried his face in Dreamâs shoulder. âHow you. Can feel content.â
Hob barks a laugh. âYou think Iâm content?â
âAre you not?â
âI donât know, Dream.â Content to be here, in London, maybe, to not need to uproot himself, chasing some nebulous sense of better, but content? While knowing Dream was out there somewhere?
âMy mistake,â Dream says. He rests his cheek on top of Hobâs head. âPerhaps there is no contentment, then.â
That makes Hob laugh for real. He finally lifts his head, looking Dream in the eye. âYouâre the most dramatic bitch Iâve ever met. âThereâs no such thing as contentment'? Dream.â
Dream smiles, then leans in to kiss him. Hob sighs into the brush of his lips. There is such thing as contentment, he thinks.
âWhat if I donât leave this time,â Dream says, when their lips part.
âYou mean it?â
Dream nods, forehead leaning against Hobâs. âI am. Tired. And this. Is the first moment I have not felt fatigued in longer than I can remember.â
âIâll have to tire you out better, then.â
âHob.â
âIâm kidding you, love.â Really, all of Hob is leaping in cautious joy. Could Dream truly mean it? âI want you to stay. Letâs get cleaned up, yeah?â
Dream nods, and lets Hob help him up. They make their joint way to the bathroom, where Hob pulls Dream into the shower with him, and they hold each other close under the warm spray, and Dream washes Hobâs hair with careful focus, mindful of tugging it. Afterwards Hob gives Dream some pajamas to borrow, for all of Dreamâs things are still in his hotel room. Dream cuddles up to him in bed, hesitant at first, until Hob opens his arms and assures him of his welcome.
The feeling of Dream laying his head down on Hobâs chest is heavenly. Itâs dangerous. But itâs so good.
"I'm sorry," Dream murmurs, into the dark.
âFor what? Leaving? You donât have to be. Itâs your life.â
âI donât know quite what for,â says Dream. âI feel I am wavering about and dragging you along with me.â
âMaybe I want to be dragged along.â
Dream lifts his head to give him a look. âPrecisely,â he says, and Hob feels skewered. Seen in his pathetic wanting. Like if he had more self-respect, heâd hold his inconsistent friend at a distance, not invite Dream right back in to break his heart again.
Dreamâs decision to leave the first time wasnât even about Hob. They werenât really together, more on again, off again, falling into each other and then away. âFriends with benefits.â Only Hob had always cared more about the âfriendsâ than the âbenefits.â Maybe if he had made it clearer, Dream would have stayed.
Maybe he needs to stop making it his fault, when it wasnât about him.
Only. The fact that it wasnât about him also means that it was.
âWhy didnât you stay?â he asks, grip tightening around Dreamâs shoulders.
âI wasnât happy,â Dream says. The words feel like a shove to the chest. âI didnât. I did not know how to fix it. I tried to leave. Then I tried to leave again. Only. You canât leave yourself.â
âWhat makes it different this time?â
If Londonâ if Hobâ didnât make him happy beforeâ
âMaybe nothing,â Dream admits, quietly, still lying on Hobâs chest. âMaybe it was a futile chase from the start. And I should give up trying.â
âDreamâ"
Dream plows on, as if he needs to get it all out. âI called you because. I was staring out at the ocean. I felt nothing. But I thought, âHob would like it.â And when I showed you, that did make me happy. For a moment. And when I told you how I felt⌠that made me happy, too.â
Hob wants to say something, but his throat is too tight. God, Dream always finds new ways to break his heart.
âI think that maybe contentment is not⌠for me,â Dream adds, fingertips stroking lightly up and down Hobâs side. âBut the closest I've felt, in fleeting moments, is when I am with you.â
âDreamâŚâ this time it comes out as barely a breath. âMy love.â
âStill?â
âYeah. Always.â Maybe Hob doesnât have very good self-preservation. But itâs Dream. Itâs always been Dream.
âFor me as well,â Dream says, and Hob lets out a long, heavy breath.
âNow youâve got to show me Rhodes in person,â he teases, to break some of the heaviness in the air.
Dreamâs smile curves against his skin. âYou will like it.â
âIâm sure.â
âI think I will like it more with you there,â Dream adds.
âYeah?â Hob says.
âMmhm.â
âI think you just want to ogle me on a beach.â
âIf Iâm to be in a beautiful place, I ought to have a beautiful man as well,â Dream says. The feeling of his rare smile still pressed to Hob's chest is devastating.
âCompletes the picture?â Hob asks, chest tight.
âYes.â Dream wraps his arms around him and cuddles in close. âI believe it does.â
#i was thinking about the phrase 'wherever you go there you are'#dreamling#my writing#nsft#in university dream was like 'do you want to have an emotionally devastating situationship with me?' and hob was like 'yesss đ'#and now they're here XD#Dream shouldve just gone to Therapy instead of Los Angeles the first time round honestly đ#god they're both awful at communicating in this verse đ once hob stops deflecting his serious feelings with jokes itll all be over
163 notes
¡
View notes
Text
I came across yet another tweet that screamed Sirius raising Harry to me and demanded a ficlet. For @soloorganaas because I can.
(Removed all identifying info from the tweet so no one goes and tweets about HP at some poor unsuspecting person)
---
Harry Potter is subdued today when his papa drops him off for school. Mrs. Carter watches as Mr. Lupin crouches in front of Harry, speaking to him in low tones while Harry nods morosely.
When he leaves, Harry sits quietly at his desk, coloring on a piece of paper and not looking up at his classmates as they trickle in. Heâs usually one of the most talkative students in the class, so Mrs. Carter goes over to him.
âHarry,â she says quietly as she kneels next to him, âare you feeling okay?â
âNo,â Harry says, not looking at her. âMy daddy died.â
Mrs. Carter barely catches her gasp before it slips out. âOh, Harry, I am so sorry. You must be feeling very sad.âÂ
Harry nods. Mrs. Carter canât believe that Mr. Lupin dropped Harry off without saying anything to any of his teachers about this! Of course, heâs been married to Mr. Black for six years now, or so heâd mentioned at the last parent-teacher conference. He must be in a state of absolute shock himself.
She spends the rest of the day loving on Harry as best as she can while her aides help manage the rest of the class. She gives him extra hugs, excuses him from certain activities that heâs not feeling up to, and slips him an extra biscuit at snack time when the other students arenât paying attention. Theyâre paltry efforts at comfort, but they seem like the least she can do.
She plans to have a discreet word with Mr. Lupin at pickup, and to gently suggest that maybe Harry should stay home from school for a few days, to be with his family and properly grieve.
Unfortunately, itâs not Mr. Lupin who picks Harry up--itâs Mr. Black.
âHey, squirt!â Mr. Black says cheerfully as Harry launches himself at him. He catches the boy and swings him up on his shoulders. âGuess what Iâve got in the car for you?â
âA Happy Meal?â
âYou got it,â Mr. Black says, and Harry cheers. âSay goodbye to your teacher, love.â
âBye, Mrs. Carter!â
âBut,â Mrs. Carter manages, âHarry said you died!â
Mr. Black blinks at her, and then pulls Harry off his shoulders.Â
âHarry,â he says, setting the boy on the ground. âDid you tell your teachers that your daddy died? Again?â
âAgain?â
âSorry, Daddy,â Harry says, not sounding sorry at all.Â
Mr. Black shakes his head as he takes Harryâs hand. âIâm sorry, Mrs. Carter. Harryâs done this with all his teachers at some point or another. We thought heâd grown out of it.âÂ
âI donât understand,â Mrs. Carter says.
âHis birth father, James, died when he was a baby. You know that, but he also calls me âDadâ. So sometimes heâll tell a teacher that his dad died, because heâs learned it gets him extra attention and snacks. He means James, but heâs going to let you believe itâs me because thatâs how he gets away with it.â Mr. Black tries to give Harry a stern look, but heâs not very successful at it. âCan you apologize to your teacher, Harry?â
âBut itâs true! Daddy James is dead!âÂ
Mr. Black pinches the bridge of his nose. âWeâre still working on it.âÂ
---
âMoony!â Sirius calls. âYouâll never guess what your son did today!â
âMy son?â Remus pokes his head out of his office. âDid he turn his teacherâs hair blue again?â
âNope. He told her his daddy was dead.â Â
âHarry.â Remus folds his arms. âIs this because I wouldnât stop for ice cream on the way to school?â
âMrs. Carter gave me an extra biscuit! Anâ I didnât have to do my letters today! Can I have a snack now?â
âYou just had a Happy Meal!â Sirius exclaims.
âIâm hungry again!â
âNice try, squirt. Weâre going to say sorry to Daddy James.â
Harry sighs. âDo I have to?â
âYes, you have to.â Sirius takes him by the shoulders and turns him in the direction of the back door. âLetâs go, mister.â
When they had first moved into this house with baby Harry four years ago, Remus had suggested that they plant two trees in memory of James and Lily. They had done so, and installed small plaques at the base of each one. Sirius found over the years that he much preferred visiting the trees to the horrible memorial in Godricâs Hollow.
âHi, Daddy James,â Harry is saying when Sirius catches up to him. Heâs sitting cross-legged by Jamesâs plaque, twisted some blades of grass together in his hands. âDaddy says I gotta say sorry to you. I told Mrs. Carter you were dead.â
âThatâs not why youâre saying sorry, Harry James,â Sirius corrects.
âI told her Daddy died. She didnât ask which one!âÂ
âHarry.âÂ
âSorry for telling Mrs. Carter you were dead so I could get a biscuit, Daddy James,â Harry says. âAnâ extra coloring time. Daddy, can I go fly now?â
âGo wash your hands and change into your flying clothes, and meet me back out here,â Sirius says, and Harry scampers off. Sirius kneels by the plaque, presses two fingers to his lips, and then brushes them over Jamesâs name. âHeâs a menace, Prongs. You would be proud. Thank you for trusting me with him."
#also because tasha said that harry should apologize to the memorial tree AND THEY WERE RIGHT#imp is writing#wolfstar#wolfstar raising harry#good godfather sirius black
280 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Another celebration ficlet. The ask for this one somehow got deleted from the inbox, but I know it was sent by @weirdandabsurd42 - hope you enjoy! đĽ°
On being seen
Rated: T
Words: 990
Tags: Post-Vecna; Injury; Hospitals; Hair loss; Referenced parental death; Hurt/comfort; Steve Harrington is a sweetheart; Pre-Steddie
âBrought you these,â Dustin says, stacking some books on the bedside table. Eddie spots The Hobbit at the top of the pile. âTheyâre mine, but you can keep them until âŚâÂ
âUntil what?â Eddie asks. His voice is a thin rasp, grating on shredded vocal cords. âUntil they unearth my home from that interdimensional sinkhole? Fat fucking chance, huh?âÂ
Dustin swallows, hiding his face under his cap. Guilt churns in Eddieâs gut like acid. His left hand - the one thatâs not hooked to the beeping machines - flies up to fiddle with his hair, only to come up blank.Â
Oh, right. They cut it off during the surgery. Itâs gone, just like half his face and jaw.Â
âYou should go,â he says. âs getting dark and your mom will want you home.âÂ
Dustin looks up, eyes bright. âBut-âÂ
Eddie shakes his head as well as the bandages will let him. âCâmon, I need my beauty sleep. I promise I wonât go anywhere.âÂ
Dustin hesitates and Eddieâs afraid heâll start to argue, or worse, plead. But then, the kid sighs, rising from his chair.Â
âOkay. See you tomorrow.âÂ
Eddie raises his hand for a wave, pausing when he catches sight of his bare fingers.Â
âHenderson?âÂ
Dustin turns in the door, face gaunt in the sterile light of the hospital corridor.Â
âYou haven't heard aboutâŚ?âÂ
Eddie wiggles his hand. Dustinâs expression morphs into one of regret.
âSorry,â he says. âI asked the nurses, but there were so many emergencies. Maybe they got thrown in the trash or something.âÂ
Eddie nods. Tries to tug at his hair again. âYeah. Okay.âÂ
Dustin shuffles uncomfortably. âListen, I could-âÂ
âI said it's okay, Henderson. Good night.âÂ
Dustin sighs. âNight, Eddie.âÂ
The beeping of the machines follows Eddie into his dreams, where it turns into the shrieks of the swarm.
*
When he startles awake, it's dark outside his window.Â
There's a figure in the chair beside his bed, backlit by the heart monitor.
âFuck, Henderson,â Eddie groans. âI told you to go home.âÂ
The figure jerks upright with a snort.Â
âShit,â it mumbles. âSorry, âm awake.âÂ
Itâs not Dustin.
Eddie freezes, terror sinking into his every limb like lead. The noise of the machines drowns under the roar of his own blood in his ears.Â
âHey,â says the figure, voice low and soothing, and he realizes a bit belatedly that he made a sound - a raw, terrified thing, like a trapped animal. âHey, itâs okay. Eddie, itâs me. Itâs Steve.âÂ
A hand reaches for his. Itâs warm and strong and so much bigger than his own. He jerks away so violently he almost pulls the iv-cord from his arm.Â
âNo,â he rasps. âDonât touch me. Get away from me.âÂ
Steve flinches, hand falling limply into his own lap. Eddie canât see his expression in the dark. Doesnât want to see. Doesnât want Steve to see him, not like this. Hurt and bare and small with nothing left to hide behind. Â
Neither of them speaks or moves for a while, the slowly calming heart monitor the only sound in the room.Â
âIâm sorry,â Steve says at length. âI just ⌠Iâll go. Just wanted to give these back.âÂ
He rummages for something in his pocket, then holds out his open palm - carefully, like an offering. Eddieâs breath catches in his ruined throat.Â
âWhereâd you find these?âÂ
âUm,â Steve shuffles in his seat. âSaw them lying on the nurseâs desk the other day. Sorry I didnât return them sooner, things have been sorta crazy out there.âÂ
Eddie doesnât say anything, just snatches the rings. He attempts to slip them on, but he canât use his right hand, and his fingers haven't stopped trembling since he first woke up. Nerve damage, the doctors said. He fumbles and drops the rings, but Steve is there to scoop them up before they can fall to the ground.Â
âHere, let me.âÂ
Eddie watches, frozen in place, heart in his throat, as Steve slips the rings onto the fingers of his left hand. Cross on the index finger, boar in the middle, skull on his ring finger. His breath tickles the skin of Eddieâs wrist.Â
âThis one's special, right?âÂ
Eddie blinks out of his stupor. Steve has taken a hold of his right hand, infinitely careful to not disturb the needles and cords, and slipped the last ring back on. The delicate one with the dark, oval stone.
Eddie nods. His voice won't obey him, but this time, it has nothing to do with his injuries.Â
âMy mom's.âÂ
Steve hums in understanding, and Eddie knows he doesnât need to say more.Â
âTell me about her?âÂ
Not a request. An offer. Eddie squints at Steveâs shadowy face as he settles back in his chair.Â
âWhy?âÂ
Steve shrugs. âYouâre one of us. Iâd like to know more about you.âÂ
Eddie canât help it, he needs to laugh. It burns in his throat and sends tears to his eyes. He tries to tug a strand of hair in front of his face to hide them and grasps only at thin air.Â
âNot sure what to tell you, big boy. Not a whole lot left of me, is there?âÂ
âYouâre brave and kind and tough,â Steve says, and Eddieâs mouth goes dry. âYouâre great with the kids, and an amazing musician, and you were willing to die for a town that hates your guts. I think thatâs a whole lot. The outside stuff will come back.âÂ
Some of it already has, Eddie thinks, fingertips rubbing against the familiar shape of his rings.Â
âHer name was Elizabeth,â he says. âShe died when I was seven.âÂ
Steve listens for a long while, not interrupting once. He doesnât switch on the light. He doesnât need to, Eddie thinks. He feels more seen than he has in a long while, sitting here in the dark, allowing Steve to get to know him.Â
Somehow, it isnât as scary as he thought it would be.
More celebration ficlets
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddie brainrot#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#hype's 1k follower ficlets
311 notes
¡
View notes
Text
I'm Not Going Anywhere
bucktommy ficlet | 1.4K | G | read on ao3
The first time Evan spends the night over, Tommy panics. He panics when he wakes up in the morning, sun seeping through the gaps of the blinds. He expects to wake to a warm body wrapped around his front, Evan drooling onto his chest adorably, the way he was positioned when they went to sleep. Instead, he wakes up cold. He frowns, his eyes still closed as he lets out a groggy grumble, reaching out and fumbling with the sheets trying to locate his boyfriend. He slaps around at nothing but cold sheets. Thatâs when his eyes snap open and the panic seeps in. Because Evanâs not there. Hasnât been for a while, as the coldness of the space beside him suggests.
Tommy should have known better. He doesnât have many, if any, people who seem to want to stick around for him. His parents always thought he was more hassle than he was worth. He was constantly tossed between them during the divorce, neither one seeming too interested in keeping him for any longer than their agreement stipulated. His first girlfriend didnât love him, which he supposes was only fair since he could never love her either. That didnât make it hurt any less when she gave up and left. He caught his first boyfriend cheating on him when he came home early from a shift. Theyâd just lost a kid and his captain had sent him home. He had wanted to come home to his boyfriend, cuddle on the couch, watch some dumb romcom to cheer himself up. Instead he came home in a sleep-deprived daze, not registering the sounds coming from inside the apartment until it was too late. He didnât have it in him to do anything more than let the tears stream down from his blood shot eyes. His boyfriend and hisâ whateverâ left without even an apology. It was then that Tommy told himself heâd never let himself fall for something that wasnât real.
The point is that Tommy should really know better. He thought maybe Evan was different, that he would want to stick around. But it had only been their first night together to have Evan scared off and running for the door. Tommy sighs, rolling onto his back and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, blinking up at the ceiling. He debates spending the day moping in bed, but his bladder forces him to get up. After relieving himself he patters back to his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and trying to figure out where the hell he went wrong. Did he come on too strong? Did he do something? Or was there just something wrong with him?Â
A knock at the doorway startles him out of his spiral and he turns to see a half dressed Evan leaning against the frame. His hair is sticking out in every which direction, full of unkempt light brown curls. He looks ridiculously adorable standing there in his boxers and what looks to be one of Tommyâs shirts. It hangs loosely around Evanâs body, it fits Evan well actually, but itâs very different to the normally snug, tight fitting shirts that Evan normally wears, the ones whose buttons seem to be constantly fighting for their life. The sight of Evan in his clothing sends a wave of heat through his body, a warmth settling somewhere deep in his chest, chasing away the negative spiral of thoughts in his mind.
âThought I heard you get up,â Evan says, grinning at Tommy whoâs still stuck staring at the beautiful man in front of him. âIâI made breakfast, I hope you donât mind,â Evan continues, ducking his head as a dusting of red blooms across his cheeks and down his neck.Â
Tommy smiles at him then, a wide smile that has his eyes crinkling in the corner. He gets up, walking over towards Evan and placing his fingers gently under his chin, lifting softly so that Evan has to look at him. âYou made me breakfast?â Tommy repeats softly, unable to hide the awe in his voice.Â
Evan tries to duck his head again but Tommy doesnât remove his hand from his chin.Â
âYeah. Is thatâ is that okay?â He looks so shy and nervous and that simply wonât do. Tommy leans forward, presses a chaste kiss to Evanâs lips, once, twice, three times because he simply canât resist. Evanâs cheeks now almost match the colour of his birthmark. Tommy thinks he may just be the cutest man to ever exist.Â
âMore than okay, thank you,â Tommy says, his voice cracking lightly with sleep. Evan beams at him, standing up straighter, feeling much more confident now. Tommy wraps his arms around Evanâs waist, pulling him flush against him and tucking his head into the curve of his shoulder, unable to stop himself from seeking a little bit more comfort from his boyfriend.
âYou okay?â Evan asks when Tommy finally pulls back. Heâs always so caring, always able to sense when somethingâs not quite right.
Tommy nods, âBetter now,â he says sincerely.Â
Evan tilts his head a silent question to elaborate if he chooses. Tommy ducks his head this time. âI justââ Tommy shakes his head, âdidnât know where you went,â he finishes.
Evanâs expression drops and his eyes widen as the pieces click together. Heâs quick to apologise, âIâm so sorry Tommy, IâI didnât think! I just wanted to do something nice for you. Iâm sorry I wasnât there when you wake up, Iâm soââ Tommy cuts off his rambling with a sweet kiss to his lips.Â
âI know, baby,â Tommy says gently, the pet name slipping out.Â
Evan blushes the prettiest shade of pink and he smiles. âGood, causeâcause Iâm not going anywhere, just so you know,â he says confidently. âUnlessâ unless you get sick of me,â Evan adds, insecurely seeping out.
âDonât think thatâs possible,â Tommy admits.
âGood, good. Come on I made pancakes,â Evan says, dragging Tommy by the arm towards the kitchen. He stops suddenly and Tommy crashes into the back of him. He raises his eyebrow at him quizzically. Evan simply smiles, hand coming up to rest on the back of his head and Tommy finds himself being pulled into a much deeper kiss, a startled moan leaves his lips but it only seems to spur Evan on more. Evan finally pulls back for air, placing another two chaste kisses to his lips before deeming that to be good enough. âGood morning,â he says in a way that has butterflies blooming in his stomach. He thought he was too old to feel this way but with Evan he canât help but feel like a teenager with a crush.Â
âMmm, good morning indeed,â Tommy murmurs, unable to resist pulling Evan back in for another quick peck.Â
Evan chuckles, a sound that Tommy could happily listen to on repeat. âCome on, the food will get cold.â
Tommy follows him out to the kitchen, eyes widening when he sees the food laid out. He didnât even know he had that much food in his pantry. âYou made this all for me?â Tommy says, voice heavy with emotion.
âOf course,â Evan replies simply, settling himself into one of the seats at the kitchen island. âI hope thatâs alright,â he says again, and Tommy doesnât miss the way Evan looks to him for assurance.Â
Tommy smiles at him, pulling out the chair beside Evan. He places a soft kiss to Evanâs cheek, before sitting himself down. âThank you,â Tommy says.
The breakfast is one of the best that Tommy has had in a while. He canât help but moan after he takes his first bite. He looks up at Evan whoâs practically scoffing away at his pancakes in a way that Tommy should not find as adorable as he does. He lets out a chuckle, unable to look away from his boyfriend.
âWhat? Do I have something on my face?â Evan says when he notices Tommy staring. He brings his hands to his face, wiping at it in an attempt to get off something that isnât even there.
Tommy shakes his head fondly. âNo, no, just admiring the view,â he says, smiling at Evan, relishing in the way Evan immediately goes pink. Tommy loves how easy it is to make him blush, how easy praise affects him. He makes sure to take note of that for later. âYou look good in my clothes,â he tells Evan, who only seems to get redder. Yeah, Tommy thinks, he could get used to this.
#911 abc#911 fandom#evan buck buckley#tommy kinard#evan buckley#911 fic#purple writes#bucktommy#tevan#911 fanfic
210 notes
¡
View notes
Note
Too early, Navy. I want cuddles with Stud.
I understand that feeling, nonnie.
A Bit Longer
Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You need to get up, but Bucky wants to hold you for a bit longer. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Fluff, pet names, teasing, sugary sweetness, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I really need to stop with the cuddle ficlets, right? Eh. Stud and Smartie, deserve it. â¤ď¸ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Buckyâs lips were the first thing you felt when you woke up, bringing a smile to your face. They grazed your shoulder as his arm tightened around your waist, keeping your back against his chest. It was a subtle way to say he wasnât ready for you to leave the confines of your bed. Or maybe he was the one who didnât want to leave yet.
Not that you blamed him. It was early. Maybe too early. Cuddling for a bit was always a good way to start the day, his embrace warmer than the thickest blanket. Sex also worked as a way to both wear you out and energize you to tackle the day.
Cuddle, hot sex, cuddle again. Wait, what time is it?
âOkay. We need to get up,â you croaked when you finally looked at the clock, trying in vain with a groan to break from his hold when he refused to move his arm or let you up. Any other morning, youâd wiggle back against him to give him a proper wake up call, but that wasnât today. âI mean it. No time for sexy time. I need to make you breakfast. Feed the cats. You have to work. God, I need to look over my resume again. Work on wedding stuff. I also need to-â
The throaty chuckle beside you stopped your ramblings because how could it not? Why was his laughter so sexy? Why did his mere existence make you stop in your tracks? In what universe was that right or fair?
Actually, itâs fair because I get to marry him.
âFirst, thereâs always time for sexy time. Two, you didn't say âgood morningâ. By the way, good morning,â he teased, turning your body to face him. âAnd three, hey, look at me. Letâs just stay in bed for another minute.â
Your eyes slipped shut because there would be no resisting if you stared into his. His gaze had a way of pulling you in so deeply some days you feared you'd drown. But if he ever robbed you of your ability to breathe, heâd find a way to give you air.
âToo much to do,â you muttered. You could feel the seconds slipping away and now wasnât the time to lounge around. âAnd if I look at you, youâll turn one minute into two and then three and then four and so on and so forth and such and what have you. I probably wasted a minute just saying that.â
You tried to back up a bit because no way did your breath smell pleasant and Bucky didnât need that in his face. A hand moved to the back of your head to keep you still. He didnât have to tell you that he didnât care about things like morning breath. If he wanted to hold you close, heâd do just that.
No exceptions.
He chuckled again before his lips brushed your eyelids and skimmed down your cheeks. âI just want you to stay here so I can hold you for a bit longer. Is that too much to ask?â
Well, when you put it like thatâŚ
You swallowed hard when he kissed the corner of your mouth, your heart skipping a beat. You were certain an embarrassing sort of whimper slipped out when he brought his lips to the other side. He wasn't rushing or demanding anything from you or trying to turn you on. He just wanted to be there with you.
So many believed that intimacy was just sex when it was much more. It was the feeling of being close and emotionally connected. It was familiarity and even friendship. You liked Bucky from the start, but the two of you were able to build a foundation by getting to know each other. It allowed you to bond on many levels, which only grew stronger once you two became a couple.
He showed you once again, without words, that he was your other half.
âI can feel you thinking, Smartie,â he whispered, his lips trailing back to your forehead.
âJust thinking of us, Stud,â you admitted, pressing your body closer to feel his chest against yours. You breathed him into your lungs and wondered if he knew how addictive he was. Savoring the moment, you allowed yourself to stay tangled up in him before you had to face the day.
His hand moving up and down your side nearly lulled you back to sleep. âYou thinking about how you drive me crazy?â
What?
âI drive you crazy?!â You asked, realizing your mistake the moment your eyes flew open. A sea of blue stared back at you and you were too late to stop yourself from taking the plunge. Your gaze didn't have to drift down to know that he was wearing a triumphant smirk. âYou made me open my eyes.â
âI sure did,â he smiled.
Well played, Stud. Well played.
The things you had to do seemed almost insignificant as you looked at each other. A minute went by as you listened to the beat of his heart and made no attempt to get up. The tips of your fingers brushed along the scruff on his chin as another minute ticked by and you reveled in the sigh he gave you in return.
Is this what living in the moment means?
âWill it always be like this?â You asked.
âAlways like what?â
âYou wanting to stay in bed with me a bit longer, even if we both have stuff to do.â
With a kiss to the tip of your nose and one against your smiling lips, he smiled back. âAlways.â
Logically, you knew every morning couldn't be this way since life wasn't a fairy tale. The romantic part of you though, the one he helped bring to life, believed the two of you would continue to write your story together and make your own rules. If that meant the two of you cuddled in bed for a few more minutes, youâd happily help him write that chapter.
And every chapter after that.
Where do I get a man like this? 𼰠Love and thanks for reading! â¤ď¸
Masterlist â Bucky Barnes Masterlist â Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#roommate!bucky barnes#roommate!bucky barnes x reader#stud and smartie#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes au#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes oneshot#x reader
675 notes
¡
View notes
Note
hi jade!! i love eddie and roan always, can we get a ficlet from their earlier days where roan is smaller. just whatever you want to write about, thanks love youđ
Eddie isnât sure how youâve ended up like this, but heâll take it. Heâs never laid in someoneâs lap, at least not with a girl he was dating, never had someone like him enough to start scratching his back of their own volition. You draw sweetly gentle lines up and down the length of him with your nails, never pausing, an automatic expression of love.Â
Heâs pathetic, pressing his face to your stomach. He really hopes you love him.Â
âCan I sleepover?â you whisper.Â
âYou can move in,â he mumbles.Â
âYou shouldnât flirt so much.â Your hand climbs up to his hair, where you continue your awful lovely scratching. âCan I have a kiss?âÂ
You shouldnât be allowed to whisper like that. Eddie turns his face away from your stomach and lifts his chin. Heâs spoiled âyou lean down and kiss him. He doesnât do any of the hard work.Â
âDaddy?âÂ
Eddie touches your face and finally forces himself to sit up. âRo?âÂ
Sheâs wearing pyjamas you bought for her with good intention but misinformation, the legs pooling around her feet and the sleeves over her hands. Her smile showcases a row of pearly, baby teeth. She looks cute, but her hair is alarming.Â
âWhat have you done?â Eddie asks, cringing. âBabe, are those stickles again?âÂ
âTheyâre stuck,â she says. She realises heâs alarmed and begins to panic, reaching up, âOh no!âÂ
âItâs okay,â Eddie says, quickly burying his own emotions. He shouldâve done so from the start, but youâd yanked his defences down and left him a slovenly mess from all your sweetness. Plus, itâs not like heâs the calmest guy in the world. âBaby, itâs fine. Come here, let me see.âÂ
âWait,â she says tearfully.Â
âBaby,â he says again, softer still, âcome here, Iâll fix it. I promise.â
âCross your heart?â she asks.Â
Eddie pouts at her wobbly lip. âI cross my heart, Roanie. Just come sit down.âÂ
You squeeze his thigh with a distinct sense of pride, though he has no idea what heâs done. Roan drags herself to the couch and Eddie picks her up to sit her between your leg and his, getting a better look at the problem, red, green, and yellow stickle bricks lost in her hair. Itâs not as bad as it seems closer up.Â
He draws a line with tow of his knuckles across her shoulder. âItâs fine,â he says, kissing her cheek, âitâs okay, no biggie. Iâll go get a comb and weâll brush them all out! Your beautiful hair will be fine.âÂ
âThank you,â she says.Â
You make a funny sound. âAw, Ro.â You take a stickle brick into your hand carefully. âCan I help too?âÂ
âPlease, please.â She turns her huge eyes on you and grabs your arm. âPlease donât pull.âÂ
âNever, babe.âÂ
You and Eddie take some time to pull the bricks from her hair, their tines like Velcro stuck between her dark curls. It takes ages, and she grows frustrated, but Eddie holds her hand in his and says, âJust be patient, sweetheart, you gotta wait,â while feeling especially tender. He forgets sometimes that sheâs not his mini me after all, that her experiences of fear are fresh and new. âItâs going okay, Ro, it just takes ages.âÂ
âItâs hurting,â she whines.Â
He doesnât believe her, but maybe it is a little uncomfortable. âDo you want to take a break? Youâll have to stay really still.âÂ
âPlease pull them out.âÂ
âAlright, babe.â He tucks his hair behind his ears. âLetâs do this.âÂ
Eventually, with Roan near tears and Eddie worried youâre overwhelmed, you untangle the three bricks from her hair and brush away the matted tangles. âSooo silky,â you murmur, leading the comb down to her small shoulders.Â
âI think weâre done. You are restored to your former glory, babe,â Eddie says.Â
Roan lifts her hands up and feels along her head. âNo bricks?âÂ
âTotally fixed.âÂ
Roan stands up on the couch. Eddie eyes her suspiciously, but she wraps her arms around him and kisses his cheek, reminiscent of how Eddie thanks her when sheâs being good. âThank you, dad.âÂ
He snorts. Roan beams at him and spins on her socked foot to hug you. You donât get a kiss. You look overjoyed anyhow, quick to wrap her up and pat her back. âThank you,â she says.Â
âYouâre welcome, princess.â You meet his eyes over her hair. âYouâre more than welcome. No more stickles in your hair through, right?âÂ
âRight,â she says with an eager nod.Â
Eddie shakes his head at you. This is the third time this month.Â
#eddie and roan#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader
675 notes
¡
View notes
Text
baby don't be mad
1.3k word actverse ficlet under the jump rating: M tags: dialogue-heavy, beginning of the relationship, the boys are arguinggg, old man eddie's being a clueless slut, and also a dweeb, and steve's being... a person that rly needs therapy lol
Rapid catchups, they name it, though it doesnât really need a name, itâs basically just talking. Early on Eddie realizes he doesnât know all that much about his sexy old-but-new long distance serious boyfriend, that he possesses a fuckton of outdated information, that, duh, people change, especially in the long-ass time they spent apart. That the habits and opinions of a twenty-year-old shithead donât necessarily last until someoneâs forties.
That evening, they do the rapid catchups, starting off easy, prompted by the takeout dinner they have at Steveâs: best Asian food, go, at which without a second thought Steve says Chinese, while Eddie goes with Japanese, love me some sushi, yum. Later, when theyâre full of kung pao and mapo tofu, lazily digesting on the couch, half-watching an old movie where Sharon Stone saunters across the screen and smolders at bad men, Steve says: you have to sleep with a woman, any woman in the world, dead or alive, go.
Eddie groans and slides down the couch, throws his hands up: dude, I donât know! Uh, like maybeâ Cleopatra? Or maybe one of those amazonian greek warriors with one boobie?
So, no one you actually know the face of? he says, with a little smirk.
Man, I donâtâ I mean, there are some beautiful women walking this earth, like stunning stunning women I canât get enough of, but that donât mean I want to fuck them! My willy shrinks at the thought, he explains meekly, and shrugs, clicking his tongue: I dunno, maybe Eartha Kitt? She seems very fun.
Good choice, mutters Steve, and to Eddieâs your turn he tilts his head, scratches his nose: I donât know if that question really applies to me. But if I had to have a sex list, it would be⌠Linda Evangelista? Or Sharon, sheâs hot. Orâ yeah, Monica Belucci, Jesus. Her, definitely. If not her then Cleopatra, thatâs actually a great answer, she must have been good for all that shit to go down around her, he says with a smile, and Eddie sighs dreamily, oh, Iâd love to watch. From the closet, imagine myself in her place. In a little egyptian wig, he adds, to which Steve snorts, rolling his eyes.
Alright, my turn. Best casual sex youâve ever had, go, says Eddie, and Steve hums at that, leans back on the couch, rubbing his chin, mumbling under his breath, until he sighs and says: I actually didnât have that much of it beyond my teens, and what I had back then was very⌠teenaged, yâknow. And in that short gap between my first and second wife I slept with just three people, two dudes and one woman, and neither of those was mind-blowing. The guys were kinda disappointing, I thought after so many years of straight sex Iâd be blown away, but it was just⌠okay. Actuallyâ, he adds, shaking his head: it sucked. I was drunk, they were drunk, I donât remember much of it. Or donât want to. I remember stinky balls. So, I dunnoâ, he says, and sighs, and glances at him: am I a big loser if I say the best one was when we reconnected? Could say it was still casual back then, right? When we fucked in the church, or by the pool, orâ, yeah, there was a lot of it, on that trip.
It really was magical, agrees Eddie, smiling at him.
So, uh, your turn, says Steve. Best you've ever had, go.
Oh, man, mutters Eddie. I know my answer to that. Japan, in the mid-nineties. We were on tour and stayed for a few nights in Tokyo, and I got to explore the city, research shit with the help of a very discreet translator, and finally, on our last night there, I ended up in a gay bar. Very hush-hush, a basement place hidden away in some grimy back alley, he says, lowering his voice into sultry tones of gossip. Met a guy there, this⌠slightly chubby middle-aged businessman type, suit and tie and briefcase, wedding ring on his finger, very regular looking guy, and we drank sake through the night, sang some karaoke, and ended up in some seedy by-the-hour love hotel. He didnât know who I was, didnât speak a lick of English, I was obviously drunk, but I still remember that night like it was yesterday. God, justâ the way that guy fucked me, the way he seemed to know every inch of my body without having seen it before, the way he just knew what I wanted without any language, it was insane. We did it a few times that one night, practically without stopping, and never saw each other again. I actually jerk off to that memory to this day.
To this, Steve lets out a small hm, purses his lips and leans back, crossing his arms, and Eddie clicks his tongue, leaning closer, touching his shoulder: aw, donât be jealous. That was casual, but out of all people, of course you are my number one, no contest. I justâ remember that one time in Japan, because it worked so well without language, and thatâs always kinda hot. Language of love, all that cheesy stuff. Up to that point and following it, it'd mostly happen with some hot Brazilians.
Okay, he says.
Eddie sighs, watching his face: Steve, you know thatâs what my life was like back then, this neverending barrage of hookups. And most of those werenât even that good, like, you talk of stinky balls? I met dozens, slobbered over them anyway like they were fucking Ferrero Rocher!, he says to a small groan in return, then sighs, speaks softer: being with you is a completely different quality from that, even from my previous relationships. Itâs way different. With Marcell, we both slept around, there wasnât much that we had in common beyond, like, incredible attraction at the beginning, and the fact that we work in the same industry, could endlessly talk about that. And with Zu, weâ we really loved each other, but we werenât a good fit. It was this weird thing where she needed someone more masc, but also I needed someone more masc, he says with an amused scoff. We were two bottoms in love, and itâs hard to make it work in the long term, without fucking other people. Weâre way better off as friends. And the other dudes I dated, it was justâ me being a drunken asshole, most of the time. I was a very shitty boyfriend for a looong-ass time.
Thereâs a stretch of silence, and Steve slides down the couch, still frowning: man⌠I just wonder why you asked that question in the first place. Because it seems to me like you wanted to brag a little about this incredible hookup you had in fucking⌠Japan. Do you miss fucking other people, Eddie?
He sighs, rakes a hand through his hair: Steve, I literally just told you I donât. I might romanticize it, theâ the way I might romanticize being on drugs, but I donât want to go back to that. I asked because I want to know everything about you! I dunno, Iâ I guess I like Japan. Itâs such a weird place, I really want to go back there, he says and inches closer, placing a calm hand on his thigh: come with me. Like, for two weeks or something. Weâd take the girls with us, go in the summer or for the spring break. Would be cool to just wander around, shop, sing karaoke, eat tons of good food. Go to Kyoto, see the geishas, tea ceremony. Go to hot springs. Japanâs truly like no place youâve ever been to.
I didn't know you liked it that much. A trip does sound nice, says Steve, with a small smile. Emily would go crazy, she loves those cartoons. Chels would like it too, I think.
Eddie smiles and squeezes his leg: sounds like a plan. Also, just toâ get it out of the way: from the moment you first kissed me, I stopped thinking of us as casual. I was, like, fully fully back in love with you in point two seconds. Even before that, to be honest. If I ever for a single moment considered that a hookup, itâd totally blow that businessman out of the water. If you want, I could show you, uh, how I blew him out of theâ fuckingâ, he falters, then snorts: sorry, failed metaphor. But you catch my drift.
Yes, please, says Steve.
#posting the roughs here bc I don't care enough to put it up on ao3#if you've never read anything of mine don't start here bestie#I'm dead serious#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#act verse#steddie fic#old steddies#ficlets
271 notes
¡
View notes
Text
haikyuu ships but its really soft fluffy kiss edition. basically tooth-rottingly sweet ficlets.
daisuga: it is the peak of summer, and theyve been at the beach all day and there's sand everywhere, and they're sunburnt and exhausted. Half the team has gone off to find a place for dinner, the other half is asleep under umbrellas. Suga and Daichi are sitting a ways away, toes in the water, popsicles melting rapidly. Suga has been laying his cheek on Daichi's shoulder for a while - he's sleepy and he never wants this day to end. So he turns his head, lazy and giggly and kisses a soft line across his shoulder, up to his neck. And Daichi smiles and laughs and asks what he's doing but Suga just shrugs and tells him its nothing, he's just really, really happy.
iwaoi: they work really hard and everyone knows it but Oikawa is always going to take losing really hard. Some days harder than others. On a particularly bad day, Oikawa is crying and curled up on his bed and he's been ranting about how mad he is but Iwa knows that anger is mostly directed at himself. So when Oikawa finally takes a breath, and Iwa stands up to go get something for dinner, because he knows Oikawa will forget until real late otherwise, he stops before the door, and turns back, and takes Oikawa's head in his hands, holding him delicately, and leans down to kiss his forehead, letting it linger far longer than he had planned. And Oikawa is still crying but Iwaizumi mumbles that it'll all be okay, and he can't help but nod along with him, and maybe he even starts to believe it.
ushiten: tendou takes pride in his position on the team, and always commits to his blocks, which means during practice it's not uncommon for him to get his fingers jammed trying to block Ushiwaka. It hurts more than usual this time, the nail having torn up a bit at a bad angle. Ushijima feels terrible, and excuses himself to help, apologizing over and over and over again as they sit on the bench, and he helps him wrap the tip of his finger to keep it protected. Then, when he's finished with the tape, holding Tendou's hand oh-so-delicately, he lifts it up to press the softest, most careful kiss to his finger. Tendou absolutely melts, incoherantly stumbling over trying to say he accepts his apology with the most pathetic, lovestruck expression.
arankita: its over spring break, they've been out a lot with the twins and Suna and each other, really making the most of their last year of high school, and they keep promising to make time to just hang out together, and it just does not work, but the spring is so lively and fun they cant be mad. They go with the team to a theme park, and Aran really wants a chance to get Kita alone and maybe tell him how he feels. The whole day passes, though, and they never do, and eventually theyre saying goodbye. And Aran thinks all is lost, but Kita pulls him back, and pulls him down, and kisses him just an inch from his lips, soft and warm and lingering, and he pulls back slowly but keeps a hand on his jacket, and thanks him for always being there. And they definitely shouldnt invite the team next time.
kagehina: they spend their free day out in a grassy field in a park, tossing a volleyball around because neither of them can ever get enough. But they do need to take breaks, to catch their breath and drink water. Kageyama sits down on the grass and sips from his bottle and watches the bugs that are flitting about. One thing turns to another, and what was just a water break turns into a long rest, laying in the sun together and laughing over every stupid thing. When Kageyama catches Hinata staring at him, he tries to act annoyed and wave him off, but Hinata is fast, and leans forward to kiss the tip of Kageyama's nose before laughing and bouncing back to his feet to say that its time to get back to the game. Kageyama turns pink, grabbing at his nose as if offended, but he cannot help but smile back.
#lmao i found this in my drafts from like a month ago idk what I was saving it for??#maybe i just meant to add more ships to it since its a little thin#ah whatever here take it#haikyuu ships#daisuga#iwaoi#ushiten#kagehina#arankita
122 notes
¡
View notes
Text
One more quick little thing before I head to bed for the night! This one is for @em-doods, because we got to chatting about some sweet, sweet JD and Clay sadness â¤ď¸ If you haven't gone to check out her adorable trolls art, I highly recommend it! I especially recommend checking out this post here, as well as this one, since those are the versions of BroZone's parents referenced in this ficlet~
It's relatively short, but I hope you enjoy it, anyway!
One of the last things John Dory had expected when he'd settled himself on the beach outside Bruce's resort was Clay plopping himself down next to him. Truthfully, they'd been getting along much better in the few months that had passed since Floyd had been rescued, but there was still plenty of tension between the middle and eldest brother. They'd talked through a small handful of issues, such as Clay's bitterness about John taking all the fun out of him being the 'Fun Boy', and John's incessant need for their past performances to be 'perfect'. However, the two still did not tend to purposefully seek out each others company.
"UhâŚhello?" John chuckled rather awkwardly, offering Clay a lopsided smile, "What's up?"
Clay simply stared out at the ocean for a moment, before turning his gaze to John Dory. "Tell me about Mom and Dad."
John blinked, a bit taken aback by the sudden demand without preamble. "Sorry, what?"
Clay rolled his eyes, but didn't seem particularly annoyed by John's confusion. "Tell me about Mom and Dad. I don't really remember a whole lot, and I know you've got a memory like a steel trap."
"Oh. I suppose you were only about nine when they were taken, weren't you?" John mostly muttered to himself, rubbing at his chin. "Okay, sure. Uh, is there anything in particular you wanna know?"
With a short shrug Clay leaned back on his hands, turning to stare back out at the ocean. "I dunnoâŚGot any fun stories from when we were kids?"
John thought about that for a moment, before snapping his fingers, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah! When we were little, Mom used to make up all sorts of fun little dances while she was doing chores and things around the pod. She liked singing well enough, but she loved dancing. One of my personal favorites of hers was her laundry dance. When you were old enough to walk on your own, you started trying to mimic her dance moves. You usually wound up falling over and tugging whatever laundry Mom had just hung up down, and getting all tangled up." John let out a fond laugh, shifting to sit forward a bit. "She'd laugh and help you get untangled, all while you cried about messing up the dance."
"Is that why you got me doing the choreo for BroZone?" Clay sniffed, a small frown on his face.
John sighed, his joy at recalling his mother quickly dampened by Clay's apparent need to constantly remind John Dory of what a horrible brother he'd been. "Maybe a bit, yeah," he admitted quietly, letting out a little puff of air. "You loved dancing. With Mom, especially. I guess, maybeâŚmaybe it was a bit to keep her spirit alive with us. With the band." He sighed, rubbing at his face, "That sounds selfish."
Clay snorted, shooting John a wry smile. "It totally does, man."
"Shut up," John laughed, shoving his brother gently in the shoulder. Clay swayed slightly, but made no move to retaliate. John chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, before blurting, "You look like her."
Clay startled slightly, turning wide eyes on John. "Excuse me, what?"
"Sorry, I-ugh," John raked his fingers though his hair in mild irritation at himself. "You look like Mom. You take after her. A lot. The rest of us sort of take mostly after Dad, but you look so much like Mom. And it's way more apparent, now that you're older."
"Do I?" Clay sat up and glanced at his hands, flexing his fingers.
"Yeah, bro. Mom was super into books, and she had all these amazing ideas," John sighed wistfully, watching the waves roll into the sandy shore, "She was super smart, and really kind. And she was just ridiculous. Any time one of us would go to her with some stupid little kid idea, she'd do her best to help us achieve whatever it was, even if it was practically impossible." He laughed, before he began to rummage around int the pockets of his vest, finally pulling out a well worn photo. "Here! I almost forgot I had this on me."
Clay accepted the photo reverently, eyes wide as he took in the still frame from so long ago in their past. A very young John Dory was stood next to a tall, lean looking troll with voluminous teal hair. Clay barely recognized himself in the photo, a trolling no older than perhaps five, propped on her hip, shyly waving at the camera. "Is that�"
"That's you and Mom, yeah. I think this picture is right around your fourth or fifth hatchday. You were starting to get a bit too big to be carried around, but you kept getting jealous of Floyd, so Mom would make a point of carrying you around as much as she could."
"Oh," Clay murmured, startling a bit as a wet drop hit the corner of the picture. He tipped his head back to find the sky devoid of clouds, only to quickly touch his face and realize he'd begun to cry.
"Even despite being in that cage, she always did her best to make sure everyone always had a smile on their face," John continued quietly, not noticing his brothers plight. "After Mom and Dad got taken, you started trying to do that. Fill that void that Mom left behind, trying to make everyone laugh or smileâŚ" Finally, he looked up to find Clay with silent tears pouring down his ruddy cheeks. He looked alarmed for a moment, reaching out hesitantly, not quite sure if his touch was welcome, only to jerk in surprise as Clay fell into his side with a sniffle. With mild trepidation he gently settled his arm around Clay's shoulders, giving him a little squeeze.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the soft crashing of the waves on the beach, and Clay's quiet, hiccupping sobs.
"I forgot what she looked like," Clay admitted after a time, not moving from his brother's hold.
"Sometimes I forget, too," John sighed, rubbing Clay's shoulder, "It's why I'm so glad I managed to get hold of our old photo albums when I went back to the tree. You can keep that one, if you want."
"Can I?"
"Of course. I've got plenty more, back in Rhonda."
"Thanks, JD."
"Anytime."
194 notes
¡
View notes