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#i was going to go to bed like two hours ago
skbeaumont · 2 days
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"You Should Probably Leave" | Joel x Reader oneshot
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Part 1 of Play it Again, a new series where each story is a oneshot, but all are shaped around country songs.
Song: You Should Probably Leave – Chris Stapleton Summary: He works long days. You help out with Sarah, make her dinner, put her to bed when he has to stay late. And then when he gets home you help him out, too, even though you both know you should probably leave. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, 18+, smut, porn without plot, prose but kind of poetry/lyrical, sexual tension, PIV, oral (m! receiving), sub!Joel, you're Sarah's babysitter, AU! No outbreak, set in the 90s. Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: I've taken the lyrics and worked them into the story, so I'd really recommend listening as you read. I've been thinking about writing this series for sooo long because country songs + Joel is a match made in heaven. If you've got any song recommendations, let me know!
It’s like a dance, a well-worn routine that you both know, practised and perfected after months of repetitions. You both know where it leads but you’ll still follow all the steps. That’s how it is.
You put Sarah to bed ages ago, spent the last few hours of babysitting on the sofa finishing up some college work, waiting for Joel to get back. His key in the door is a familiar click, the latch sticking the way it always does, his shoulder forcing it open.
You stay where you are. When he comes into the lounge his toolbelt is still strapped around his waist, the remnants of a long day’s work painted across his handsome face and strewn in dust that’s collected on the knees of his well-worn jeans and callused hands.
He pauses in the entrance, arm stretched up above him to rest on the mantle of the door, t-shirt pulling up to reveal a strip of tanned skin above his belt. There’s a glass of wine half-drunk on the coffee table beside you and your feet are tucked up under you.
Neither of you speak for several long moments. You just watch each other, the tension too delicious to break.
“You should probably leave,” He says, but you make no effort to move and he stays where he is, too, dark eyes watching you.
His expression is open, taunting, and you already know what’s going to happen. You untuck your feet and shift them onto the worn carpet, standing to step towards him. His form takes up most of the doorway, his shoulders so broad that they almost touch both sides of the frame.
When you reach it he’s looming over you, blocking the exit off from you if you wanted to leave, but you don’t. You turn into him, press your nose to the slice of skin between his shoulder and neck and inhale deeply, smell the work of his day on him: the musk of sweat, the tang of iron and sharpness of wood shavings.
“I suppose it ain’t all that late,” he says, voice rumbling through his chest, “still time for you to finish your wine.”
You won’t finish the wine, but it’s all part of the well-worn routine the two of you have. He works long days. You help out with Sarah, make her dinner, put her to bed when he has to stay late.
And then when he gets home you help him out, too. Let him relieve some of the tension that he carries in his shoulders, on his thick-set jaw. You press the first kiss here, letting the rough caress of his stubble eat into your own cheek. When you let your hands course through his hair, scratching your nails into his scalp, he leans into it, eyebrows pitching up, something like a whimper falling from his lips.
There’s a devil on your shoulders, and its urging you each towards the same predetermined end.
“We shouldn’t.” He says, but he doesn’t move away.
“Just one kiss?” You ask, feeling him relax into your touch, the bulk of him slipping down the doorframe, bringing his mouth within reach of yours.
“Alright,” He rasps back, his voice pitching with need, and you claim the last syllable with your mouth, press your lips against his, pull a moan from somewhere deep in his chest.
“Say you want me to stay,” You tell him, and he does, whispers it into your mouth, chases your tongue with his.
When he looks at you his gaze so intense it’s almost intimidating, and you recognise the look in his eyes, the need that’s behind the blown-out pupils and hazy expression.
The slow retreat to his bedroom is well-practised, the carpet belying a well-trodden route you both know. He lets you walk him backwards up the stairs, sighs when you push him against the closed door to fit your mouths together again.
Inside, his bed is unmade and you press him into it, pin his hands above his head and lick a thick strip up his neck, following the tendons to the underside of his jaw.
His moans are the chorus of this well-rehearsed dance. They spur you on as you undress him, revealing the strong lines of his chest, the thick trunks of his thighs, the impressive bulge of his cock in his briefs, already half-hard.
He twitches in your hand when you draw him out and you shift down the bed to take him into your mouth, the head of him heavy and salty on your tongue. His cock swells, the vein that spans the underside pulsing against your palm.
It’s intoxicating and dizzying and familiar, the recognisable ache in your jaw as you take him into the back of your throat, fist gripping the part of him that won’t fit.
“So good to me, darlin’” He groans, running shaking fingers through your hair, trying to sit up against the headboard.
“Relax,” you tell him, pushing him back down to lie against the rumpled duvet, “I know what you need.”
You know him and he knows you, and you both know how this goes. You pull back, work your dress up over your head and pull down your panties, which are ruined with your slick, so damp they catch on your thighs as you peel them off. Joel’s eyes widen as he watches; he can never believe you want this – want him – as much as you do.
When you sink down on his length – the fat head of his cock catching at your entrance, making the stretch delicious and white-hot – he squeezes his eyes shut tight.
You run a finger along his eyebrows, coax him to open them and he does, a muscle in his jaw fluttering as you rise up and drag your cunt back down onto him again.
“I wanna do the right thing, baby,” he tells you, as though this – the pinching heat of him between your thighs, the tremble of his hands as he clutches at the flesh of your ass – isn’t the greatest thing that’s ever happened to either of you.
But you know he hates himself for it, hates that he’s a good decade older than you, that you’re Sarah’s babysitter, that this – this twisted arrangement you have where you stay when he gets back and then end up in his bed – is the only thing that gets him through those long works days sometimes.
“I know,” you say, “but it’s getting kind of hard to resist, isn’t it?”
“You should leave,” he says, thrusting up into you, “we should – Jesus, baby, just like that – we should stop.”
You arch up off the bed, tilting your hips so that he can drive his cock deeper, bottoming out and groaning brokenly into your ear. It’s filthy. Depraved, probably: The slap of his hips as he cants them up into yours, the breathy moans that tumble from your mouth, Joel’s desperate, needy curses.
It’s easy to make him come like this: Three steady, deliberate rolls of your hips and he’s a quivering mess beneath you, his hands fisting in the sheets as he spurts hot and wet inside you.
After, you tell him you should probably leave. He makes you come with his fingers first, tells you to finish your wine, that it still ain’t that late.
And when the sun’s on your skin at 6am, he’s there watching you sleep, hoping you’ll say you’ll stay, even though you should probably leave.
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starshideurfics · 3 days
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Can’t go home alone
steddie, aob, hurt/comfort, established secret relationship
I just can’t leave this concept alone 🥰
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Pain pulses over and behind and around Steve’s eye along with the beat of his heart. It isn’t as bad as it was even an hour ago, and definitely not as bad as when he and Robin puked their guts out in the movie theater restroom.
But his head hurts. His chest hurts. And he just wants to curl up in his nest and hope his parents don’t come home in time to see him like this. 
But the paramedic checking him says he’s definitely got a concussion. “Have you got someone who can keep an eye on you for the next 48 hours?”
“I… Yeah, I do.” Steve leans his head on Robin’s shoulder, needing the support as he’s hit with a sudden dizzy spell. He really doesn’t want to hurl again.
“Steve,” Robin whispers, “There’s no way my mom is letting me stay at your house for two days. Or letting you stay at mine. She would freak if I had an omega in my room.”
“I know,” Steve mumbles back. “‘Preciate the offer, Robbie, but I’ve got someone.”
“Steve. You can’t just shrug this off!”
“I’m not! I do have someone.” He pouts, breathes deep, her scent sour still from the truth serum leaving her system. His face is hidden in her short hair as he mumbles, “I’ll stay with Eddie.” Steve’s so tired. 
He just wants to rest his eyes a minute, but Robin shakes his shoulder.
“Eddie? Steve what are you talking about?”
“I’ll stay at Eddie’s. He’ll take care of me.”
Robin is struggling to focus, her brain not as scrambled as Steve’s, but after a day and a half without enough to eat or drink coupled with everything else, she’s just as tired and confused. “Eddie who?”
Tires screech to a stop at the edge of the Starcourt parking lot, the closest cars can come now with the barriers up. Steve whips his head around to look towards the noise and his head spins. But then he sees a familiar, shitty van, the driver’s door opening and closing loud enough for Steve to hear the slam over the surrounding hubbub.
Pushing himself to his feet, Steve starts walking towards the streak of denim and dark curls racing towards him. He’s grinning like an idiot as Eddie stops just short of barreling into him, the rangy alpha delicately cupping his face. “Steve, baby, what the hell happened?” His fingers brush gently along Steve’s brow, over the cut on his lower lip. “I saw on the news—about the fire—called your place a dozen times and no one picked up. Been half-crazy worrin’ over you, and it looks like I was right to.”
“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles, pressing his cheek into Eddie’s touch.
“No, baby, not your fault. I’m just glad it isn’t worse.” He pulls Steve close, guides his face to the scent gland at his neck, and kisses his hair. “I’ve got you.”
Steve begins to purr, feeling safe for the first time in two days. “Can we go home?”
“Yeah, let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Wait! I gotta tell Robin!”
“What? Is Buckley here, too?”
Steve doesn’t answer, just pulls out of Eddie’s grip and stumbles back to the ambulance where Robin is still waiting, wrapped in an emergency blanket, her blue eyes glued to him as he approaches. “You’re dating Eddie Munson?” The, ‘and you didn’t say anything about that when we were spilling our guts literally and metaphorically on the bathroom floor’ is implied.
“Yeah. Eddie’s the best. He’s really sweet and he’s got a big—”
“Please don’t make me barf on you by finishing that sentence. I do not need to know what you and your alpha get up to behind closed doors.” Robin reaches for his hand. “Just… Call me in the morning, okay?”
“Okay.” Steve squeezes her fingers before loping back to Eddie and snuggling into his boyfriend’s chest.
Eddie rubs at Steve’s back. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah. I’m hungry.”
“Want me to make you a grilled cheese when we get back to my place?”
“Uh-huh.” Steve nods enthusiastically, only to bring on a wave of nausea, forcing him to shut his eyes and put all his weight on Eddie.
“Maybe I should just get you into bed.”
Steve moans wordlessly, lets himself be manhandled into the van, barely noticing anything beyond the bumps in the road that make his head ache more.
Once they reach Forest Hills, Eddie plops Steve on the couch, brings him water and a bag of frozen peas for his eye, and turns his attention to frying two sandwiches.
After Steve is fed, Eddie helps him into the shower, washing his hair in the tiny bathroom, and getting rid of the dried blood and days’ worth of sweat. 
They dry off together, and Eddie bundles Steve into his bed, their naked bodies pressed close beneath the covers. “I’ve got you, baby,” Eddie whispers, dropping a kiss to Steve’s unbruised temple. “You rest. And if you need anything, let me know, I’ll get it for you.”
“I know,” Steve hums, snuggling impossibly closer. “Love you.”
“Love you too, baby. Now sleep.”
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Note
Hello! I was curious if you could do a dom!Abby x chubby reader, maybe some smut where the reader starts feeling bad about her body so Abby "shows" her how pretty she is *wink* *wink*
It's fine if you reject my request remember to drink water and have a good day/night :)
THROUGH HER EYES
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CW - fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving), negative self talk
WC - about 1k
Reader is described as fem and chubby, I based this off of myself a little as a plus sized girlie
Thank you for the request darling! And thank yall for over 100 followers 🖤
Leave me any requests in my asks xo
It all happened so fast.
Only fifteen minutes ago you were standing infront of the mirror looking at yourself in the new dress Abby had bought you. The one you had been looking at online for weeks but never hit buy. Because the truth was you didn't think it would look good on you. The model in the picture was tall, skinny, flawless. A stark contrast to how you saw yourself.
Your hands ran over you body as you took in how the fabric clung to you. How you could see the outline of your stomach, the cellulite on your thighs and the way your arms looked in the thin straps. It felt like you couldn't stop. Your mind relentlessly picking apart every bit of your appearance until there was tears forming in your eyes. It wasn't jsut the dress, you pinched at your round cheeks, fussed with your hair, you even thought about taking off your makeup.
Abby had been watching you silently in the doorframe of the ensuite bathroom. Her eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed tight across her chest. You two were supposed to be meeting her friends in half an hour but instead she shot them a text, saying you guys were going to be a little late. Before she pushed you onto the bed and dropped between your legs.
"Abby we don't have time-" your protest was met with two fingers slipping past your lips. You gasp for a second but hum softly before starting to suck. Earing a smirk from the girl below you.
"They can wait" Abby pulls her fingers out slowly, you try to chase them and earn a small chuckle from her. "You look so good I just have to" the feeling of her hand running up your inner thigh makes you need to bite your lip.
"I'm actually gonna change" you admit, glancing over to the closet, a slight frown on your lips. With a soft sigh you start to explain, not making eye contact with Abby as you do. "The dress is lovely baby, thank you I just think I'd look better in jeans or something"
"No" Her voice is stern, that same tone she uses when telling you to behave. But her hands are as soft as ever. Gently moving up further until she's brushing her fingers across your panties. Making you gasp. "No baby you're gonna wear this, you're also gonna look into that mirror" her other hand grasps your jaw gently, forcing you to meet your own eyes in the reflection. "While I show you how pretty you are okay?"
Despite the part of you that wanted to say no, that wanted to give in to the insecurity and self hate. You swallow hard, giving her a breathy. "Okay" as you watch her bunch the dress up your hips.
"You stop looking I stop" her hands pause on the waistband of your panties. Waiting for your nod before pulling them down. "Good girl"
That's how you ended up here. With your fingers tangled in Abby's once slicked back braid while her tounge works calculated circles around your clit. Your eyes fixated on yourself in the mirror. A twinge of embrassment in your chest that was being drowned out by the pleasure. The way her hands are so tight on your thighs that your almost sure it'll leave finger shaped bruises was enough along to make you wet. But paired with the soft moans she's letting out against your dripping pussy you couldn't help but try to grind into her face.
You tip your head down to watch Abby for a second, desperate to see your pretty girl. Starting to feel yourself getting close to the edge. But always the observer Abby is quick to notice, pulling back fully. Despite your moans and desperate attempt to keep her head where you needed her.
"I told you baby"
"Abby-" you plead, only cut off by her lips pressing to yours in a quick kiss.
"Shh" you watch as she gets onto the bed, positioning herself behind you. "Just moving a little, don't panic" She brushes the hair out of your face, pressing kisses to your shoulder as she gets comfortable. Her hand moves past your stomach until she reaches your clit. Making you moan softly as she slowly traces circles around your sensitive bud. "Now look" her free hand grabs your jaw, keeping you looking in the mirror. You can't help but focus on how her steel blue eyes stay glued to your body. Looking over you like you're her prized posession. "There's my pretty girl"
Her fingers slowly dip down to your hole as you lean backwards. Positioning yourself further into her chest as she slips in. Two thick fingers stretching you out as your eyes roll back for a second. "Fuck" you quickly fix your gaze, looking at your own flushed face as Abby slowly moves in and out of you. Her other hand trailing down to massage your breasts through the fabric of your dress.
"Taking my fingers so fucking well" she bites down on your lobe gently, making you moan as her lips continue down your neck. Only stopping to mutter into your skin. "Always perfect for me aren't you baby?"
"Mhm" you try to reply through your pathetic moans. Watching yourself as Abby works you closer to the edge. Fingers curled up just the right amount to hit your g-spot. Your legs start to shake as you clentch around her hard. Using all your focus to keep looking in the mirror so she doesn't stop.
"Good girl, cmon baby cum all over my fucking hand" Abby groans into your ear, her movements not pausing as you cum. Your moans echoing through the room as you slump into her fully. Breathing heavily as your eyes finally break from the mirror, looking up to the ceiling. Abby presses a soft kiss to your head. "Cmon baby let's get you cleaned up". You shuffle forward and let her get off the bed. Listening to her walk to the bathroom, the tap running as she holds a cloth under it.
"Abby?" You call out softly, waiting for her to come back between your legs. Gently wiping you up.
"Yeah baby?"
"You should wear your hair down" you prop yourself up onto your elbows. Tilting your head towards her. "Your braids all fucked up and I think Manny will kill us of we're any later"
She chuckles before throwing the cloth onto your nightstand. Planning to deal with it later and starting to unravel her braid. Dirty blonde hair falling in soft waves. You sit up, pulling on your panties before fixing your dress. Looking yourself over on the mirror, expect this time you can't help but smile.
"Yknow this dress is cute"
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flemingsfreckles · 3 hours
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Newlyweds
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Preview: You and Jessie finally get married, when you get home, your original plans get derailed by your sleepy wife
Warnings: suggestive, mentions of sex (fingering), getting walked in on, no detailed smut, non sexual nudity, showering together,
WC: 1.6k
A/N: this ended up soft and fluffy, I thought about taking it the smut route but I didn’t, sorry I know yall love some smut, I also finished writing this just now and I’m just gonna post it, it’ll edit it if I find errors but it’s very possible they’re in there.
Jessie was practically cackling as she ran down the hallway of your home toward your bedroom with you cradled in her arms.
“If you fall you’re going to get us both hurt Jessie.” You tried to protest when she went to pick you up outside the front door.
“It’ll be fine! Plus it’s a tradition thing.”
“I think the tradition is the groom carries the bride through the door, last time I checked we’re both the bride.”
“Shhh just let me do it.” You had, reluctantly let her pick you up, bridal style, walking you through the door of your house. It only took 3 steps for Jessie to in fact trip over the rug that sat at the entrance.
Thankfully neither of you were hurt, she had managed to catch both herself and you before either of you hit the floor.
“Jessie!”
That’s what set her off laughing. And she couldn’t stop, she was hysterically laughing as she kept moving, using your body to push open the bedroom door. By the time she placed you on the bed you were laughing too. You couldn’t help it, your wife’s laugh was contagious.
“I cannot believe you almost fell.” You shake your head looking up at where she stood next to the bed. Going limp she flops down onto the bed next to you. She’s laying on her stomach, looking at you as you lay on your back, turned to the side to look at your wife.
“Hi wifey.” She whispers to you, the biggest toothy grin across her face.
“Hi wife.” You lean in and kiss her gently.
You both lay, just staring at each other, soaking in the fact that just a few hours ago you had officially gotten married.
The two of you had joked for so long that you practically were married, being together since you were 17 and 18, you had stayed together falling in love with each other more and more as the time went on. Now being 25 and 26 you finally had done it, in front of all your friends and family, you were married.
As you stare at her you notice her eyes starting to flutter closed, then she’d open them with a couple hard blinks, before they’d start to droop again. The sight is adorable, Jessie’s sleepy face gently placed on the bed.
“Let’s go to sleep Jess”
“No, we’re supposed to, ya know, consummate the marriage.” She cracks her eyes enough to look at you and wiggles her eyebrows.
“Babe, I think that tradition is more for people who didn’t sleep together before marriage, we’ve been having sex for like 8 years.”
“But still, we’ve never had sex as wives.”
“What do you call the fingering in the reception bathroom then?” You counter.
You weren’t too proud of it, but something about seeing Jessie in her tuxedo declaring how much she loved you in front of everyone you both cared about, turned you on. You couldn’t help yourself but to whisper some filthy words into Jessie’s ear as both of you sat having dinner. The two of you had snuck off to a bathroom during your reception to have a moment to yourselves, one thing turned into another and before you knew it Jessie had you sitting on the sink, her fingers under your dress and inside of you.
Jessie’s face turned red at the memory.
“That doesn’t count as consummation, no one finished.” She argues with you.
“That’s not my fault, you can thank your sister for that.”
Jessie’s little, but thankfully adult, sister had come looking for both of you. The photographer needed you both for photos with your brand new wedding bands. You thought you had locked the door when you walked in, turns out Jessie had already made an attempt to lock it, meaning you unlocked it. She had looked everywhere, before she opened the bathroom door, Jessie between your thighs, your dress hiked up around your waist and her hand between your legs.
“Oh, you two are disgusting.” She clasped her hand over her eyes. “Wash your hands and both of you get out here, the photographer needs you!” Jessie had been mortified, being caught by her sister of all people, she would’ve preferred a teammate. You had laughed it off and dragged your red faced wife out of the bathroom.
The party continued on for a few hours after and while you were still very turned on by your wife, the exhaustion of the day started to sink in not exactly leaving either of you in the mood for what you knew would be multiple rounds of sex.
You watched as Jessie’s eyes continued to flutter shut each time they shut they stay closed for longer and longer until you’re pretty convinced she wasn’t going to open them again.
“Hey,” you gently nudge her shoulder and her eyes crack open. “Let’s go shower and get changed.”
“But I’m so comfortable here.”
“Come on babe, we can have our first shower together as wives.” Saying the word wife and it not being a joke anymore made you smile.
“So cozy in the bed.” She mumbled as her eyes closed again.
“Alright, hang on.” You stand up, moving over to the side of the bed closest to her, you scoop your arms under her shoulders and the other under her knees. She doesn’t protest as you lift her and carry her into the bathroom.
You gently place her on the floor and give her a kiss. “Let’s get you undressed.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Jessie smirks at you.
“No, you were just falling asleep on the bed.”
She pouts at you, arms crossed. You gently take her wrists, undoing the cufflinks of her dress shirt and then sliding off her tuxedo coat. Your fingers move to the buttons on her vest, undoing those and helping her remove it. Lastly is her dress shirt, she works from the top down as you work to undo the bottom of her shirt. Your hands meet in the middle and she pulls the shirt off and quickly follows it with her sports bra.
“My beautiful wife.” You lean down placing kisses across her exposed skin. While your mouth stays kissing her chest, your fingers move to her belt, undoing it and sliding it out from her pants. She undoes the button on her slacks and lets them fall to the floor. You hands find the elastic of her boxers and you slowly pull them down. Moving your head from her chest you place kisses along both of her thighs as you remove her underwear.
“You’re turn.” She says, you turn away from her to allow her access to the zipper and ties on your dress.
Jessie’s hands find the top tie and begin undoing the knot. “Have I told you enough how beautiful you look?” She says as her fingers move to the next tie. “Absolutely stunning, you took my breath away.” Her hands then move to the zipper, undoing the rest of the dress. She brings her hands up to where the top of the dress sat. She begins pulling it off of your body, similarly to your actions she brings her lips, placing them on every inch of skin on your back she exposes pulling down your dress.
Jessie extends a hand to you to help you step out and over the dress. “Wow.” She takes the time to look you up and down. You had bought a new set of lingerie for the wedding. It was a lacy white set, one you knew would make your wife crazy. “Where did you get this?” Her fingers work into the straps of the bra.
“Oh you know, just something I had lying around.” You joke with her. Her eyes are locked on your chest. “Quit staring, I’ll put it on again tomorrow for you to fully enjoy.” The comment had Jessie biting her lip, likely thinking of what she’d get to do to you after a good night's sleep.
You move your own hands to your bra, unclasping the back while Jessie’s thumbs hook into your matching panties and pull them down your legs. She comes back up to meet your lips with hers.
You both stay for a second, grinning at each other, both overwhelmed with happiness. You pull away to start the shower, while you wait for it to run warm you pull Jessie into your arms, hugging from behind. You turn the two of you toward the mirror above the vanity.
“Look at my wife.” You point in the mirror at Jessie’s figure in front of you.
“Ehh she’s alright but look at my wife!” She teases you back, pointing at you in the mirror.
“I love you, wife.”
“I love you, wife”
Your arms release her, giving her a quick squeeze with your hand on her shoulders. “Let’s hurry up and shower so we can sleep and then tomorrow we can do all the consummating you want.” You give her a wink and she quickly follows you into the shower, the two of you having a moment of peace and relaxation after the day’s festivities. As you looked at her in the shower, you couldn’t help but think how it was just the two of you, and that was all you would ever need. You and her.
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 13: You Made a Plaything Out of Romance
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Chapter 13: You Made a Plaything Out of Romance
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter thirteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 7.3K (And every word hurts, except the beginning the beginning is nice and then it goes downhill)
Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+. This one is sad guys. References to sex, Implied Sex, Nudity (lying in bed with someone the morning after), Brief explicit sexual encounter (it's like one sentence), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
A/N: This one took me a while to write, because it was painful. I can neither confirm nor deny that I cried when I wrote it. But I hope y'all hate it as much as I do.
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1984
Soft light from under your floral curtains kisses your face as you wake from sleep, your arms tightening around Ben with a happy sigh as the memories of the night before blanket you in a soft cocoon of love and warmth. You had imagined that night many times over the years you'd been with Ben, but none of them compared to the real thing.
A dull throb of pain coats your limbs and body, that serves as a gentle reminder of exactly how you spent the late hours and the early hours of the morning with Ben, but it was a happy reminder. The memories of last night were passionate and more wonderful than you could have imagined. All thoughts of leaving him wiped away by one night filled with love that was all you wanted for so long. Because now there wasn’t a point in leaving, now that you had the one person you’d wanted since you were eight, you’d never leave him ever again.
You can feel the soft drag of Ben's hand against your back, coaxing you into a peaceful glow of contentment. You were laying on his muscular chest, your head directly over his heart, listening to the steady beat, your arm wrapped in an possessive hold over his body and you never wanted to leave. You wanted to exist in this moment the rest of your life, laying here with the man who'd had your heart for so long, finally at peace and finally allowing yourself to show him how much you loved him and how much he meant to you. Apart of you couldn't believe that this was real, and was worried that you'll wake up and the bed will be cold and Ben will be gone.
"Good morning." Ben's voice rumbles up through his chest. He moves his free hand to push back some of the hair that has fallen into your face, a content smile gracing his perfect lips as he allows his hand to brush over your cheeks.
"Good morning." You smile, leaning into his touch, before you press a kiss directly over his heart. "How long have you been awake?"
"Not too long."
"You didn't want to wake me up?"
"No." He murmurs, his hand still stroking your back in a soft smooth motion, that trails sunshine down your spine. "You're cute when you're asleep.
"Only when I'm asleep?" You tease, propping yourself up so you can look in his eyes, your hair tickling over his chest and you're sure that you must look ridiculous, but you don't care.
He looks better this morning than usual, you decide, noting the sweep of his dark hair over his brow and the sleepy haze in his eyes. His lips are a little red and swollen from when you kissed him and you assume your own look the same.
"No." Ben shakes his head, slowly, smiling down at you, and you can't help but kiss him, brushing your lips against his and letting him set your nerve endings on fire. Ben's happy smile against your mouth makes you want to melt into him and never leave, to curl up inside his heart and let yourself be filled with the glow of his love. “How are you?”
“Good, better than good.” You tighten your arm over his chest. “Just a little sore-“ You smile against his lips.
You hadn’t meant it like a bad thing, if anything, you liked it a little bit,  but judging by Ben’s reaction to those words you understood that he took it the wrong way. 
Ben’s eyes widen, his own smile faltering. He grabs the blanket wrapped around your waist raising it, so his eyes can trace your body to look for bruises. “Did I hurt you?” Ben’s eyes lock with yours once more, voice tinged with worry in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.
“No you didn’t.” Your hand gently falls on his cheek to reassure him. “It was perfect.” For a second you're afraid you said too much, but then Ben’s crooked smile breaks something inside of you.
“Yeah, it was.” He whispers, turning to press a kiss to your palm.
The look in his eyes is soft, filled with so many unspoken things that it makes you dizzy. He’s never once looked at you like that and you know you’ll never get used to it. Because he’s looking at you the way you saw the elderly couple look at each other all those years ago, when you longed for the same thing to happen to you, longed for a man to look at you that way. And you’re sure you’re looking at him the same way, because now it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to hide how you feel about him. There’s no more frustration or anger, there’s only love that crashes over your head and pulls you out to sea with Ben.
 “And It’s a good sore.” You smile sheepishly, cheeks blushing under his gaze. “I wouldn’t mind-um-getting used to it.”
“Oh really?”
You nod, hand still cupping Ben’s cheek.
“Huh.” Ben's smile turns into a mischievous smirk.
All of a sudden he flips you over so that you’re on your back with him hovering over you, smirk more pronounced than it was a few seconds ago. As he does so, your bed makes a terrible creaking sound and shifts to the right precariously on its last leg, literally.
You snort, pressing your lips together, body shaking with stifled laughs. Ben presses his head to your shoulder laughing too, the rich sound of his voice sending tingles down you spine. His eyes shine with laughter as he leans down to kiss you again.
“You owe me a new bed.” You mutter against his lips.
“I think we are both responsible for breaking it.” Ben's hands stroke along your sides, before he drops back down to kiss you.
“Well as slutty as you are I’d think that you would know how to avoid breaking one.” You tease raising a hand to brush his dark hair out of his eyes and Ben leans into your touch. You loved how he responded to you, it reminded you so much of how you felt whenever he touched you, like he couldn't get enough and he never wanted it to stop.
“Did you just call me a slut?” He pulls back with a frown.
“Yes. I did.” You laugh at his sullen expression.
Even when he frowns he's handsome. How did I get this lucky?
"You're lucky you're so cute." Ben sighs. “I’ve broken a few, but I will say I had the most fun breaking this one.”
His words make your heart thud madly in your chest in understanding. It confirms the thing that you had been thinking since you woke up, that last night meant everything to Ben too, that it wasn’t just sex for him. That he wanted to be there with you. And it made you smile wider.
Ben’s eyes are locked with yours, so much love and care slipping through his gaze that it makes you dizzy. “Next time we can break my bed. Just so we’re even.” He finishes capturing your lips with his, the words next time circling on your head on repeat.
You kiss him back eagerly, wanting to be lost forever in the warmth of the two of you together, because it’d finally happened, you’d finally gotten your Ben.
Your fingers scratch against the back of his head softly as you gaze up into his bright green eyes. You couldn’t believe it, after all these years he was yours, your best friend and now the man you love with all your heart. Your entire chest soars with emotion, smile stretching across your face so wide that you knew it probably wasn’t attractive but you couldn’t stop. You were so blissfully happy for the first time in years and you wanted to share that happiness with him the rest of your life.
“What?” Ben smiles down at you almost tenderly, so different than the way he looked when it wasn’t the two of you. One of his hands strokes the curve of your hip to bring your leg up to wrap around his waist the other brushes your wild tangles from your face, tracing the dips and curves of your cheek and jaw with a fingertip as if he wishes to commit each one to memory. He touches you with a reverence that you’d never imagine possible, a gentleness that is so different than Soldier Boy that it takes your breath away, like you’re a marble statue and he wishes to understand your beauty.
You move both of your hands to cup his cheeks feeling the wonderful scratch of stubble against the smooth skin, smile still firmly in place. And you finally say the three words that have haunted you since you were children. “I love you.”
Ben blinks. “What?”
“I love you Ben.” Your heart thuds madly in your chest remembering the past 24 hours when he made you feel special and loved, just how you’d imagined it so many times.
You didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop smiling, ever be able to stop feeling so warm as if you were catching fire.
Ben doesn’t move, his muscles tensing.
“Ben?” You’re still smiling, hoping that he’ll say it back, expecting that. Because how could he not? How could he not and be so caring and attentive? How could he make love to you like that, hold you close, take care of you after, dance with you, buy you a thoughtful gift, and take you out for your birthday each year and not love you? How could he look at you like you were the only person in the world and not feel the same way?
“I-“ He looks at you earnestly eyes soft in the morning light, his touch warm against your cheek, as if drinking you in. "I-" But then the softness in his green eyes is gone replaced by a familiar hardness that makes the warm feeling evaporate in your chest. Ben glances at the alarm clock on your bedside table. “Fuck is that the time?”
“What?” You ask confused by the change.
“I have a meeting with Legend.” He rolls off of you, pulling his face from your hands, and out of bed making it buck and shudder, not embarrassed by his nakedness. It was like he suddenly needed to be as far away from you as possible, and it was like someone dropped a bucket of ice water over your head.
You sit up, clutching the blankets to your chest in confusion. He moves around the room trying to find his clothes where you practically ripped them off his body last night.
“You do? I thought you just had the premiere tonight?”
Ben never scheduled things the same day as a premiere. He liked to spend the early part of the day drinking and imbibing in whatever he wanted so he didn’t have to be sober when he got there. He didn’t like to deal with the reporters, fans, and other people sober. Honestly, you didn't either, but you'd rather acquire a buzz while you were there, rather than before.
But today was different. You were hoping that this time it meant you and Ben would spend the next hours together enjoying one another before you had to go, spending as much time together in bed as possible. Hoping that at the premiere maybe you could announce your relationship, not that the press deserved that, but after all these years you wanted people to know that Ben was yours and you believed that he would be happy to say that you were his. Especially given what he had said before taking you to bed.
“No. I’ve got to talk to him about some shit for that thing in Nicaragua. That fucker Stan is gonna be there-“ Ben walks around the room picking up articles of clothing and refusing to make eye contact with you.
“Are you sure? I thought we could go to that diner on the corner and get some breakfast.“ You try to catch his eye, but Ben turns away as if he's looking for his shoes, hard to believe given the fact that they were sitting in the opposite direction. "You really liked it last time-"
“Sorry baby I can’t.”
The nickname “baby” is like taking a bullet to the chest.  Ben never called you that, Sweetheart yes, Doll, yes, but never baby. It was reserved for the other women. The endless cycle of women that Ben bedded and then never talked to again. It was his way of putting distance between them and him and you knew that better than anyone. And the fact that he called you that made uncertainty pulse in the back of your throat. You try to shake it off and try again.
“Oh well. You’re still picking me up for the premiere right? We always go together-“
“I’m not sure how long the meeting will run so I’ll see you there.” He won’t meet your eye as he pulls up his pants, the harsh sound of his zipper like a slap in the face.
“But Ben-“ Your start to say, your heart sinking.
“I gotta fucking go.” Ben snaps.
“Oh, Okay.”
He looks in your general direction one more time, not quite meeting your eyes, and not apologizing, but then he turns and leaves the room, not even taking the time to put on his shirt or his shoes.
What just happened?
When you finally force yourself to get out of bed to go to the bathroom, you see your reflection in the mirror, hair a tangled mass, lips bright red and swollen from Ben, and the prominent mark he left behind in the shadow of your jaw that marked you as his.
As you stand there examining your reflection, the pain of his rejection hits you all over again, causing you to crumble against the counter, hands tightening so hand in the marble vanity that it comes apart in your hands.
You weren't sure if it was a rejection, rather it was the abruptness of how he left that scared you. How easily he slipped back into the façade of Soldier Boy after spending the entire night with you and making you believe that every moment was special.
The memory of last night sends a wave of warmth through your body, goosebumps prickling against your skin. But this time a cold shock of the way he left strikes your heart.
Maybe he really did have a meeting. But then why did he have to leave immediately after I told him that I loved him?
The memory of how happy you were in that moment makes you cry harder, when you told him the one thing you'd longed to for so long, while he looked at you with so much love that it made you feel more happy than you ever had.
You knew that Ben had a difficult time expressing that and feelings in general, but the way he acted last night at dinner and after when he made love to you, spoke greater than that. He had to love you, had to care about you.
Didn't he?
*******************************************************
"Indigo over here!"
"Indigo who are you with tonight?"
"Indigo what do you have to say about the rumors of you and Noir being in a relationship?"
The questions are coupled with flashes of brilliant light as you wave and force a wide smile on the red carpet. Tonight Legend had insisted that you wear the new supe suit he had designed for you, the one that didn't require a hood and the only thing that hid your identity was a black eye mask that looked suspiciously like the red one Countess wore.
But you weren't focused on that, or the reporters, all you could think of was Ben.
He hadn't called and hadn't answered any of the three phone calls that you placed to his apartment at the time you guessed he would be home getting ready. You even left messages, but he still never called.
Each minute you stayed away from him you could feel the crack in your heart growing wider and wider. You still didn't understand why he did that, why he left as soon as you said the words you wished to for so long.
You had felt like a weight had lifted from your chest when you said them, wanted to live in the warmth that followed as you gazed up at the man you loved finally able to let him know how you felt.
And then he'd run away.
You'd spent the rest of the time before the premiere trying to convince yourself that it was a coincidence, that maybe he really did have a meeting with Stan and Legend about Nicaragua. But you wondered why you weren't told about it.
Stan had been making such a big deal about it, about what it meant to finally have supes help in the military. Not to mention Stan usually liked having you at those kind of meetings, because you were able to keep Ben calm.
So then that begged the questions: Why did Ben lie? Why did he run away?
As you weave your way through the crowded lobby of the movie theater you spot Ben up ahead, his back was to you, but then you freeze halfway to him. His muscular arm is wrapped around Countess's waist, pulling her into his side so tightly that her free hand is resting on the front of his supe suit in the middle of his chest where you had pressed a kiss to hours ago. He leans down to whisper into her ear and she laughs, before whispering something back that makes Ben's hand squeeze her hip.
All of a sudden you're transported back to your 16th birthday, when Ben showed up with Missy Callahan, who flaunted him right under your nose. But this is worse.
It's worse because you can't think of anything else but last night, when Ben kissed you, held you close, made you feel more loved and appreciated than you ever had. When he made every moment you spent together feel special, when he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.
Tears build behind your eyes as you stand there staring at them, all the other patrons passing by in shades of multicolored dresses and suits, with the sound of Countess's laughter echoing in your ears.
When Ben and Countess walk towards the theater you follow, hoping to catch his eye, wishing that he would look at you. They choose their seats in the front row, Countess sitting down on Ben's left, and just as you try to sit on Ben's right, Gunpowder slides into the seat on Ben's right, your usual seat.
"I was actually going to sit there." You say, and this time Ben looks away from Countess to see you for the first time. You wait to see some kind of recognition in his eyes, see some semblance of the man you woke up with in your bed, but you see none of the warmth he had earlier.
He looks indifferent, and the frustration and anger makes tears burn behind your eyes, but you keep them down.
"Sorry Indigo. The director told me to sit here because I'm in the movie." Gunpowder shrugs, but he doesn't quite meet your eyes.
Each time this had happened in the past Ben would shove either Gunpowder or Countess out of the seat so you could sit next to him, even though he hated that you usually mocked whatever movie it was endlessly. But this time Ben does nothing, only sits there.
How can he do this? How can he act like nothing happened between us? How-
The next thought is lost in another wave of emotion that crashes over your head, but you refuse to cry in front of Countess, who is the only one really looking at you. Ben's eyes are on you, but they're cold, unyielding, nothing like the soft clover they were last night when he took you to bed and made you feel special.
"Ben can we talk?" You ask.
"I don't want to miss the premiere." He replies, taking a swig from the glass full of scotch in the cupholder between him and Gunpowder.
"I think this is more important-" You begin to say.
"You should find a seat. The movie is starting." Countess interrupts with a smirk, running her hand up Ben's muscular arm where it lays on the arm between their chairs. You watch the drag of her hand and you feel like the sixteen year old girl in the monstrosity of tulle watching the boy you loved dance with another girl, who made you feel ugly and fat.
You hadn't felt like that girl in a long time, especially not in the last 24 hours when Ben made you feel beautiful and sexy in the best way. The memories of the time you spent together flash through your mind. When each time he moaned your name made you proud to know that you could do that to him, that you could cause him to fall apart, that you could leave your mark on him, make him be lost in you the way that you were lost in his every caress.
Ben doesn't say anything as the commercials begin to play behind you on the large screen, only sits there allowing Countess to touch him.
"Um- yeah. I guess I should." You whisper, swallowing the ball of emotion before shuffling away to find a seat. It's several rows back, in the aisle away from them, next to someone who smells like they've bathed in whiskey.
And damn it all it does is remind you of Ben. Your eyes don't leave him and Countess where they sit and each time you watch them whisper and hear her giggle you feel yourself sink lower and lower into the pit of despair.
Finally when the movie is over you try to chase after Ben, to corner him because you want to know why he's doing this, why he's acting this way, why he's finally allowing Countess to have him the way that she always tried to in the past. The exact thing that he and you mocked her for late at night when the two of you were talking at your apartment. Ben hated her almost as much as you did, or you thought he did.
But he expertly avoids you, like he knows you're following him, given his super-hearing it didn't seem that far from the truth. You follow him through the theater and into the banquet hall where the afterparty is occurring, ignoring the clinking of glasses, the soft music from the band on the stage, and the laughter coming from the people around you who are too drunk already to remember any of this.
Something you wish you were, drunk that is. You didn’t want to forget last night, you just wanted to know why Ben was acting this way. You didn't want forget the way he touched you, the way he felt, the way he made everything else melt away so that it was just the two of you, exactly what you had longed for. You wanted to understand.
Because maybe I did misjudge what last night was, but I couldn't have. The memory of this morning before he left blankets your mind in a cocoon of warmth all over again. You don't look at someone like that, hold them close like that, agree that last night was perfect if it was just sex.
The thought made you irrationally angry.
"Indigo." You hear someone say and touch your arm.
"Huh?" You turn to see Dr. Vogelbaum. He was wearing a dark blue suit, perfectly tailored, with a red tie. Very patriotic, but also surprising. He had never seemed the type to want to come to one of these premieres. "Dr. Vogelbaum, I didn't know you were here."
"I thought I'd come and see what all the fuss was about." He smiles tightly. "Would you like to dance?"
"Um-" You look over the crowds of people dancing in the center of the room. You didn't feel like dancing, you still wanted to corner Ben, drag him away to another room where you could ask him what the hell was going on. He'd never done anything like this before, never iced you out even when he was really pissed off, he'd always find you.
So why was this any different? Was he angry? Upset by what I said? Why would that upset him? You think about how happy he looked when you were laying on his chest and how he leaned into your touch. I thought he’d be happy. He was happy up until I said “I love you.” So why would that change anything?
"I don't really feel like dancing-"
"Please, oblige me. A woman as beautiful as you shouldn't be here alone." Vogelbaum smiles as he pulls you onto the dance floor, ignoring your protests.
You begin to sway back and forth to the song, but everything feels wrong. It makes you think of last night, when Ben held you close and finally kissed you for the first time while your song played. And now this entire night feels like a mistake, last night feels like a mistake, everything that's happened the past forty years feels like a mistake.
He spins you away from him, and as you turn you see Ben. You didn't realize that he was standing on the edge of the dance-floor watching you and Vogelbaum. His arm is still wrapped around Countess, who is practically attached at the hip, talking with another woman in a long blue dress in front of her. You watch his jaw tighten as he takes in Vogelbaum’s hand placement, a dark look flashing in his eyes, but just as you try to identify it, Countess drags her hand up the front of his suit, grabbing his attention, and goes on tiptoe to whisper something in his ear.
How could I have been so stupid?  You think to yourself watching him drop his gaze to her and smile. The thought makes tears burn against your eyes. You couldn't understand, couldn't understand why he was doing this, ignoring you and getting friendly with Countess. And you couldn't understand how he could shift from hot to cold so suddenly, how he could act like you were the only person he saw to not even looking at you, refusing to speak to you, acting cold and indifferent. Ben had never once done that to you, had never once acted that way, even when he was mad.
Vogelbaum pulls you back into his chest, but the way his body feels against yours is wrong. "He's quite the flirt isn't he?"
"Huh?" You look up from his tie.
"Soldier Boy." He's watching them over your head, but you don't want to look at them anymore, you don't want to watch Ben with Countess and feel ugly, feel like you weren't enough, feel like the girl who only had one friend and a mother she could never please.
"Yeah." You mutter.
"Legend mentioned that you were thinking about retiring." He continues oblivious to your current state.
The mention of your plan to leave makes you remember it. You hadn't thought about it since Ben picked you up for dinner the night before, when you had been drinking and finally decided to leave, to walk away from everything and do something for yourself.
And now you wished you had. You wished that you had slammed the door in Ben's face when he came to get you last night, wished that you had told him that you were leaving, and wished that you had been strong enough to say no to him. The memories of last night come back to you, how it felt to kiss him for the first time, how happy you were because you believed he loved you as much as you loved him, how he cared about your first time being special-
The tears are so close to falling now that your jaw is  clenched together so tight that you think you hear the crunch of your teeth cracking.
"Yes. I'm retiring." You respond.
"Well, if you're looking for a change of pace I might have a job for you."
"I'm not really a scientist-"
"It wouldn't be a science job and I think you should come to the lab this week-"
"The last time I was in a lab, all this supe shit started." You snap before you stop yourself. "Forgive me for not wanting to have that happen again."
"It's not an experiment." He continues to sway the two of you back and forth. "I've been working on a project with Stan and we both thought that you could help us."
"How?"
"Well we've been focusing on the next generation of supes and what that will look like-"
"Next generation?"
"Yes. And I know someone that might benefit from meeting you. I've been working very closely with him and he needs a strong figure in his life, you have some things in common-"
"I'm not interested in being a babysitter."
"Why don't you just come by this week and meet him? I'm sure you'd hit it off-"
"I said I wasn't interested." You pull yourself from his arms. "I'm done with all of this."
"Indigo-" He reaches for your wrist.
"If you touch me again, I'm going to rip off your arm." You force a smile knowing that the cameras are still flashing, and say it low enough so that he is the only one that can hear.
Vogelbaum immediately moves back from you, putting as much space as he can and you turn back to where you saw Ben standing a few minutes ago, but he's gone.
You stand there in the middle of the dance floor for a minute, not sure what to do, so you decide to go to the bathroom to collect your thoughts. And you immediately regret your decision.
Before the door of the bathroom opens all the way you know, call it a feeling or a psychic premonition, but you do.
You wish you were wrong, but you knew Ben better than anyone, or at least you thought you did.
You can feel it in the air, hear the rapid beating of their hearts and the loud moans, smell the sour odor of sweat, but you're still not prepared for what's waiting for you. Countess's hands are braced on the white marble of the sink in front of her, Ben's hand fisted tightly in her hair, pulling her head back to where his face is buried in her throat, her own face contorted in an expression of pure ecstasy, with each snap of Ben's hips as he crushes her against the sink.
The bathroom door slams shut loudly behind you, drawing Ben's gaze to where you stand, your hands clenched tightly into fists, the skin pulled tight over your knuckles. He freezes and for a moment you think he looks sorry, but then it's gone, fading into the hardened expression he's had since you told him that you loved him.
You don't know what to feel, anger, frustration, heartbreak, and rage all form a white hot ball in the pit of your stomach. You have the sudden urge to throw up and also burn the entire building down to the ground, but you can't move, can't look away from where they stand.
"Baby why'd you stop." Countess gasps, reaching back with a hand for Ben, but he steps away from her, to zip up his pants. Countess finally looks over at where you're standing and smirks. "Oh hey y/n. I didn't know you were here."
Her face is flushed red, almost the same color of her hair as she reaches down for her pants and drags them back up her body. The proud look in her eyes makes you snap your jaw together to fight the urge to rip her in half.
“There are private rooms for that.” You keep your voice as monotone as possible, pushing down the heartbreak and the anger that burns against your skin.
“It’s much more fun when anyone can walk in. Don’t you think so Ben?” Countess reaches for Ben, but he shrugs her off.
You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you taste blood, trying very hard not to lose control. You prided yourself on that, you hadn’t lost control in all your years as a supe.
Ben doesn't say anything.
“Get out.” You snap.
“I don’t think I will. We were in the middle of something-“ Countess's sultry smile widens. "Maybe you should leave so we can fini-"
Her body flies forward towards you, until her throat is clutched tightly between your right hand. “I’ve never liked you Countess. Other than a flash of light you're pretty worthless. Your powers the only thing that make you special, and I know that you need both of your hands to use them, right?" Your hand tightens on her throat and you know the next day she'll have bruises.
I should just kill her right now. Who would miss her?
She gasps for air, clawing against your hand, eyes wide. She'd never seen you lose control before, never seen you use your powers quite like this, and the fear in her eyes makes you feel better.
“So I suggest you get out. Before I rip them off and make you eat them.”  You snarl before throwing her in the direction of the door behind you. She stumbles forward a step, placing a hand against the bathroom door as she catches her breath. When she turns back to look at you, her eyes are flashing with malice, but you can still see the pride under it all.
“Well I’ll see you two later. Hopefully we can finish what we started.” Countess smirks at you, recovering as she saunters out.
It takes an amazing amount of willpower not to drag her back into the room and rip her head off.
Ben adjusts his suit, not meeting your gaze. And for a second you think he looks guilty, but it’s gone as soon as you see it. His ridiculous helmet is laying on the floor next to him, probably took it off before-
Your jaw clenches together remembering what you walked in on.
“Ben why are you doing this?”  You say, composing your voice as much as you can. You force yourself to look him in the eye, you want him to see how hurt you are.
“Doing what?” He crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow.
"You’re pushing me away, avoiding me, and acting like last night didn’t mean anything-"
"It didn’t.” He states. Ben's jaw is clenched tight, shoulders tense, as he begins to slip back into the façade of Soldier Boy that he adopted after you both got the serum.
Tears burn against your eyes at his sharp tone. You let out a shaky breath. "I don’t believe you. You don’t act that way, kiss me, hold my hand, make love like that and then pretend it never happened.”
“We didn’t make love, we fucked.” He snaps eyes blazing. “Don’t turn this into something that it’s not.”
 “I’m not just talking about the sex. I’m talking about dinner, the dancing, remembering my birthday, getting me pearls because you remembered I lost mine, the fact that you had them play the song we danced to when we were 18-“
“So?”
“Why are you acting like you didn’t do any of those things?”
“I’m not saying I didn’t do them. I’m saying that you’re being damn hormonal and reading into it.”
“I’m not being hormonal!” You snap. “Are you really telling me that you did all of those things just to get into my pants and that you don’t feel anything for me? That what I said to you this morning meant nothing to you? After everything we’ve been through-“
“Everything we’ve been through?” Ben spits, suddenly angry. “All I know is for the last 40 years you’ve been getting in my way. You think I care about you? I don’t care about anyone! I’m Soldier Boy. I’m America’s first fucking superhero. And I could never care about someone like you. You’re pathetic. You’re always here, fucking with my decisions, following me around like a fucking lovesick puppy, standing in my damn way with those fucking stars in your eyes, trying to remind me of who I was before and I wish you would just fuck off!”
Your own anger surges up to push away the heartbreak at his harsh words. “You say that I’m always here, but it was your idea for us to do this. You did this to me Ben. I’m here because you wanted me to be, because you needed me. And it’s you that keeps showing up at my apartment. I don’t make you come over!”
The memory of the night he asked you to come with him rises at the back of your mind. You remember how happy you were to go with him because you thought it was as close as he would get to admitting that he loved you, and you had hoped that if you went with him it meant that he wanted to be more. You were not remembering wrong, you remembered exactly what he said that night, you knew that he acted like he needed you. So why was he lying now?
“I never wanted you here.” He takes a step forward, green eyes hardening. “I don’t fucking need you or anyone else. I’m not a pussy. I’m a man.”
Your teeth clench together in anger and frustration. “I don’t believe you. You say that you know all my tells when I’m lying, but I know yours too. So just tell me the truth!”
“That is the fucking truth. Are you too stupid to understand that? I don’t care about you, I never have!”
“Then why did you kiss me?”
Ben freezes.
“I didn’t initiate that kiss, you kissed me! You were the one that started whatever the hell happened last night!”
“So?”
“You’ve heard me talk about what I want. You addressed it at the table last night. You know that I want more than one night, you know that I want love, that I was willing to leave to find those things. I was ready to walk away from all of this Ben and then you fucked with my head. Did you kiss me and do those things because you thought it would keep me here with you? Because you can’t stand the thought of being alone?”
“I wouldn’t give a single fuck if you left. If you want to go then go. I won’t miss you and I’m not stopping you.”
 “I don’t believe you and I don’t understand why you’re doing this, why you’re trying to push me away and act like you don’t care about me-" You shake your head in frustration.
Ben advances on you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly you know there will be bruises. Ben never touched you when he was angry, sure he’d stare you down, but Ben never did anything to harm you. It’s why you were never afraid of him, because Ben didn't want to hurt you. Even this morning you remember how worried he'd looked when you said you were sore, when he thought that it mean he hurt you. Ben cared about you. You knew he did.
But for him to do this was shocking and you can’t fight the shudder of fear that creeps along your spine.
“You mean nothing to me.” He growls. “You’re just another woman with a warm pussy. That’s all you are. I fucked you because you needed someone to and I thought it might as well be me. I don’t care about you. I never did. And I could never love some one like you. So get the fuck out of my way.” Ben pushes you from him so harshly that you fall back against the wall.
The memory of what your mother shouted at you the night you told her you were going with Ben settles over your mind.
“You really think that disappointment will ever love you? Care about you? You are nothing to him, just another plaything. And the day he finally tosses you away, don’t bother coming back here.”
Your mother's words were harsh, cut to the quick. You hated to admit it, but she was right. You understood that now, understood that the last forty years and all the years of your friendship had been a lie.
Ben didn't care about you, probably never did, he just saw you as a tool for his own amusement, and his harsh words were enough to make you realize that the boy you knew was gone and enough to jolt you into the new harsh reality.
Your hand flicks and Ben's body flies into the concrete wall on the other side of the bathroom hard enough to crack the solid cement. You find your feet, rising to your full height, hands glowing bright purple. The entire room trembles with the force of your anger, the mirrors shatter on the bathroom wall, raining down glass and metal onto where Ben sits stunned on the tile that has begun to crack and split with your display of power.
“That night you came to me I chose you. I chose you, Ben. I left everything behind for you because you asked me to. And I regret it. I regret every moment I have wasted caring about you and taking care of you. I have made excuses for you my entire life. To my family, to society, to your damn team, and to myself. I have stood by you through all of this and I never complained because you were my friend. I was here before and after you decided to take the serum, when your father broke you, when your mother died, when you needed someone to sit with you because you couldn’t take the silence alone, but not anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t be the voice of reason or your fucking babysitter and I can’t be your damn conscience. I shouldn’t have to. You are a man after all, so do it yourself.” The tears are falling freely now, searing against your skin as they trickle down your cheeks. “I tried to cut you some slack because you were my friend Ben, and I loved you.” Your voice breaks when you use the past tense. “But maybe that’s my fault, I romanticized you. I shouldn’t have but I did. I ignored so many things because I loved you but now, I’m fucking done.” You reach up to grab the pearl necklace around your throat, the one that you thought was ridiculous to wear with the supe suit, but the one you kept on because you wanted to remember last night and rip it off, sending the pearls rolling in every direction.
Because now you just wanted to forget it all, forget your friendship, forget the years you spent together, forget all the nights he spent in your bed, forget last night, and forget him.
Ben stands from the ground, brushing off his supe suit and for a second you think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t.
“I can’t do this with you anymore. I can’t stand by and watch you do this to yourself, embrace whatever the fuck kind of person you are now. I won’t. I never want to see you ever again. And the next time you touch me, I’ll kill you.” You turn to go, but then you stop short of the door. “You once told me that you never wanted to be your father, you wanted to be better than him. Funny. After all this time you still became him.”  You spit.
You throw open the door and storm out as the mindless drone of people talking, glasses clinking, and buzz of music settle over your ears. But you don’t hear it, all you hear is the harsh words of the only man you’d ever loved and the feeling of your heart breaking in your chest.
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A/N: Well this one was very sad and I hate myself for putting the reader through this. Let me know what y'all think :)
Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress
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mikobeautifulheart · 2 days
Note
Hiii, can I request a fic of nanami(established relationship) if he caught to in the act of trying to kill yourself. I get it if you won't do it though..❤
There is like nothing I won't write for I'm that desperate. Plus I have so many ideas.
Tw: self harm, destructive tendencies and depression (angst to ig)
They say you can tell when someone is going to commit. Obviously it isn't true.
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You were the brightest person in the room, every morning when you were all getting assigned missions you would smile and greet everybody.
Nanami didn't know how you did it, always smiling when your job puts you to the dirtiest work of the world. Hell the day you stopped smiling was the day the world ended.
Maybe that's why he was so in love with you, you had so much affection to give him as he had for you, you could always smile brighter for him, laugh louder for him, all you ever did was make him happy.
"Y/n?" He said knocking on the bathroom door.
"Are you okay in there?" he said with little to no concern.
He had come home an hour ago and thought you must have still been on your mission because of how quiet the house was. That was until he heard noises in the bathroom.
"Mmmm" he heard muffled mumbles through the door, not even close to a proper response.
"Y/n i'm coming in okay?" He turns the handle but the door wont budge.
Another sound came from the other side of the door but it was louder like glass smashing on the tile floors.
"Stay away from the door, Do you hear me y/n? I'm going to knock it down"
He wastes no time before he takes a step back before kicking it the first time.
The door makes a splitting sound but dosen't open.
Second Kick.
Again, its more likely he's going to put a hole in the door before he breaks it down.
This time he slams his shoulder into it ripping the hinges off the wall and finally making the door weak enough to rip off the frame.
He pulls the door toward him so he dosen't hit you, and looks into the bathroom to see you on the floor, red around your torso, hair in your face.
He nearly took a step back in shock to see the horror infront of him. Still he went in and lifted your upper half off the ground to see where the blood was coming from.
As his eyes scanned you body you let out a groan.
"Sorry..." You said before quickly shutting your eyes in pain when he touched your arm.
"I didn't want you to be the one who found me..." You said before your mind gave out and your body went limp.
"Y/n? You have to keep your eyes open okay, can you hear me, Y/N" The longer he stayed the more of his composure he lost.
There it was, two long lines of red down both your arms. He rolled your sleeves up to get a better look.
"I'm going to get you to Shoko okay? Just hold out for me, please." He said scattering things all over the floor and pulling out things from the draws until he found bandages, if he didn't stop the bleeding now you would get to Shoko dead.
Carefully he starts wrapping your arms tightly, becoming worried but relived when you hissed in pain. He hated to see you in pain but at least he knew you were alive, alive enough to feel.
When the bandages were secure he carried you down to his car where he dialed Shoko right as he placed you along the passenger seats in the back. Even though it was late at night he knew Shoko would come in and save you.
He rushed you in watching to see if you were still breathing before laying you down in Shoko's clinic.
He waited out side and next to your bed all night, playing with the ring on your left hand.
As the sun came up the warm beams of light made your eyes open slowly.
''Morning" He said.
Nanami did'nt really know how to approach this, dose he ask questions now? Comfort you? Pretend it didn't even happen?
"Kento..." You said, voice groggy.
"Yes"
You reached your arm up to caress his face, a shooting pain ran down your arm and you gasped slightly before feeling tears prick the corner of your eyes.
THANK YOU FOR READING ♡
"You shouldn't really use your arms right now" He said holding your hand to his face.
"Ken...I'm sorry I didn't want you to find me like that, I never wanted tou to suffer because of me I-im so sorry." You said letting the tears go.
"Shhh, you don't have to think about that right now, your being put on a break. No working for 2 weeks, then we can talk okay?"
You nodded trying to hold back your tears as he pressed a kiss you your cheek.
But really he felt more insecure. Was he not enough? No. He just kept taking. Your smile, your laughter and your happiness.
From this day on he would give you everything he could, anything for your happiness.
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AUTHOURS NOTE: If you don't like he ending that's cool because I have a similar fic here with a sadder ending, it's appart of my 5 stages of greife series.
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samandcolby-ownme · 2 days
Note
Sam had been focusing too much on working that he had ended up neglecting his relationship. You guys had planned to go out on a movie dinner date weeks in advance and already had dinner reservations set, he is too busy working to realize that the reservation was 30 minutes ago. Should you have reminded him? Yes. But you also feel like you shouldn't have to because if he cared then he would've put his work aside for a few hours to spend time with you. ANGSTTTTT but also fluff or smut at the end, dealers choice 😏
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Warnings: Slightly angsty, strong language, reader breaking down, crying, yelling, suggestive language, kinda sad but happy ending
Enjoy!
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Sam has missed reservation times. He’s been late to pick you up sometimes. He’s even had to cancel last minute, but you understood. For the most part, at least. You knew he had deadlines to make, people to update, plans to make, and flights to book.
Once the number of times he’s practically bailed on your reaches double digits, that’s when you really started to get mad. His reasonings, you’re sure were valid at the time, but you would get so mad you thought it was a bullshit excuse, so that just made you pissed.
You said something, you had a long talk one night, got on the same page again and everything was good, almost seemed better.
But only for a short while until things started to gradually trickle back into its cursed routine. You’d say something to him again, then it would just repeat the cycle. Back to square one with it. Finally, maybe after one or two more times, you gave up on what you felt like you just wasting your breath.
One night, while you’re laying in bed getting ready to go to sleep, Sam comes in after edited his one video for hours of the day. You feel the bed dip down and his body slides up against yours.
“I made us reservations at the Mitz, they couldn’t get us in until three weeks from now, so figure out what you want to do before or after and we can do that.”
You stay silent for a second before speaking. Your voice is in a very low whisper, “You promise?” He kisses your shoulder and nuzzles his head into your neck, “I promise. I’m sorry I haven’t been with it lately.”
“You and Colby have been busy. I get it.” You roll over to face him, “I guess.. I just feel like you forget I’m here sometimes.” He shakes his head, “I’m sorry I make you feel that way.” He kisses your forehead and you close your eyes, “I love you.” He rests his forehead against yours and lets out a quiet sigh, “I love you so much.”
Over the last three weeks, Sam and Colby surprisingly didn’t have much going on, so it worked out in everyone’s favor. You and Sam pretty much stayed home, and when he did edit, he made sure to include you.
Which is why, when that certain Thursday evening rolled around, you were absolutely crushed. It felt like, in a weird way, a betrayal. It really wasn’t that deep, but to you it was.
You scoffed as you hear the front door open, rolling your eyes as you look to the small clock on your vanity.
07:30 PM - 30 minutes past your set reservation time.
You drag the makeup wipe down your face, wiping away the hope you had painted on earlier in the evening. You can feel the burn growing in your eyes as you try not to cry.
You may think that two times isn’t bad, but it’s not really about the amount of times it’s happened. It’s more about how Sam doesn’t realize it’s happening. He doesn’t put up a fight, he just gradually buries you under all of his paperwork.
You hear him making his way up the steps and you know in your heart that it’s not going to be good. You take a deep breath, wiping over your face one more time with a clean wipe.
“So guess where Colby and I get to go next month.”
“Hmm?” You hum lowly, but loud enough for him to hear. You keep your stare fixed on yourself in the mirror in front of you. Sam walks closer and you feel every muscle in your body tense up.
You really didn’t want to fight with him - again.
“What’s wrong,” He asks, laying a hand on your shoulder. You were so mad at him, his touch only made the urge to cry even harder to fight back. You shake your head, “N-nothing.” You stand up, “I think I’m just gonna go get a bath and then go to bed.”
You grab a clean change of clothes and before you walk out, it’s hits Sam. He lets out a sigh, “Oh fuck.” You turn around, “Congratulations.” You give him a fake smile, “You figured out what’s wrong.”
“Y/n.” Sam calls out but you walk away. He follows after you, “Waitwaitwait.” He grabs your arm, pulling you towards him, “I am so.. so… sorry.” You tilt your head back resting it against the wall as you let out a slight laugh, “It doesn’t matter Sam.”
You look at him and his face falls, “W-What do you mean by that?” He stands up a little straight as you just simply shrug.
He shakes his head, “No. don’t say it. Please.” You chew on your lip as you feel the tears well, “I’m not..” you quickly swipe away the tears dripping down your flushed cheeks, “I’m not leaving, Sam. I just..”
You let your hands fall to your sides, and you just crack, spilling all of your emotions, “I need more, Sam. I-I know. I know that me getting upset over dates might be silly, but they’re important to me, Sam.” Your voice cracks and you look into Sam’s glossy eyes, “You’re everywhere, Sam. But you’re not here.”
You sniffle, voice cracking quietly, “And it’s hurts.”
He scrunches his nose and nods. You blink and the tears fall, “I shouldn’t h-have to be the one to remind you, fuck Sam. I shouldn’t have to remind you.”
“You’re right.” He mumbles quietly as he nods. You look up, sighing, “I do not want to end us, Sam. Please know that.” His hands slide to your waist, but you speak before he can, “We need alone time. We-we need time to just be a normal couple sometimes.”
You bring your hands to your eyes and just sob.
Sam pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he whispers how sorry he is, “You are the most important thing to me, okay?” He presses his lips to your temple and you nod, mumbling, “Mhm.” You’re trying to get your crying under control as Sam continues, “I’m so sorry I missed tonight, baby.”
He sniffles and that makes you cry harder, “I’m sorry.” You sob out and Sam cups your cheeks, “Hey.” He raises his voice slightly, catching your attention. He raises his brows and leans in, his voice calm, “You don’t ever need to be sorry about anything, okay?”
You nod and Sam shakes his head, “You did nothing wrong, okay? I deserve to be called out on my bullshit. You did the right thing.” He kisses your cheek, “You’re my number one priority, from here on out I promise I’m going to prove it to you every. Single. Day.”
You smile slightly and you feel yourself gradually calming down, “I just didn’t want do make you mad.” You sniffle out, gasping out for air because of how worked up you had yourself.
You were slightly embarrassed, but Sam really doesn’t seem like he’s judging you at all. He laughs slightly, “Trust me, it would take you doing something a lot more stupid than getting upset over me being a dumbass to be mad at you.” He smiles and rubs your cheek with his thumb, “I love you.”
You smile, looking up at him, “I love you, too.” You lean in, pressing your lips to his and you feel him smirk. His voice is quiet against your lips as he mumbles, “Is this a bad time to tell you that Colby and I want to bring you on to the channel. Take you with us on every investigation?”
You lean back, looking up at him, “What did you just say?” He scratches his forehead, “When I got home, I was going to tell you that Colby and I were talking and we both agreed that when you’re on investigations with us, they turn out so much better than when it is just us, so with that.. we did a little poll thing in XPLR club and it turns out that the fans want you to join us. just as much as Colby and I do.”
You stare at him for a few seconds before you gently push his shoulder, “you couldn’t have just led with that, babe?” You laugh, “I embarrassed myself infront of you for absolutely no reason.”
He shakes his head, “First off, don’t be embarrassed. Second off, you calling me out on stuff that bothers you shows me you care enough to communicate with me, and I honestly cannot tell you how much that means to me.”
You bite down on your lip, “You might not be able to tell me, but I think you just might be able to show me.” You raise your brows as you look up at Sam and he smirks, instantly lifting you up against the wall, “Where to?”
You smile, “Take me to bed.”
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Thank you so much for reading! As always, let me know what you thought! I love you all! 🖤
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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luna0713hunter · 1 day
Text
Some night,sleep comes easily to you.
On those nights,you don't need to do much;just the comfort of your bed,and a warm cup of tea is enough to lull you to sleep. On those nights,your dreams are vivid;a sound of laughter and a sunny sky. Everything seems easy on those nights.
But right now,as you lay in your bed and stare up at the ceiling in the dark,you wished it was one of those nights as well. But as the clock blinks and shows you the slightly too bright digits of 2:00 AM,and the several empty cups of tea,you know you wont get any sleep that night. And on the nights you can't sleep,dark thoughts always swarm your mind.
You turn your head away from the ceiling,only to bury it in the pillow by your head;and when you take a deep breath,the familiar scent of lavender makes you slightly dizzy.
Gods above,you miss Izana so bad.
Your boyfriend had texted you a few hours ago that he would be late,so you should head to bed first. But both of you knew that was impossible;ever since you two started going out, sleeping without one another was an impossible task. Ever since you experienced how it feels to have Izana's arm wrapped around your waist,your legs intertwined,and him whispering silly things in your ear only to make you giggle,you stopped bothering to sleep alone.
With another sigh,you turn your face completely in his pillow and you will yourself to not cry;Izana had his own stuff to worry about,he didn't need your whining right now.
You're so lost in thoughts that when you hear the familiar hum of the engine,you think you're only imagining things;after all, your boyfriend wont be home until the dawn,and you doubt anyone is stupid enough to go after you.
But when you hear not one,but three gentle taps to your closed window,you immediately jump out of bed and rush toward it. With a slight grunt,you push the windows open and let out a surprised gasp.
"Hey there, princess." Izana's silver hair shines brightly under the faint moonlight,but his grin is more blinding than any light. He's holding small pebble, seemingly having them thrown at your window "care for a ride?"
With a excited squeal,you rush down the stairs;still in your oversized t-shirt and shorts as you burst through the front door.
Izana's grin widens as he spots you,and immediately opens his arms for you. He lets out a low whistle when he sees what you're wearing.
"is that mine, babygirl?"
You let out a breathless laugh when he presses a loud kiss to your cheek.
"want it back?"
"heck no," his response is immediate as he wraps his arms tighter around your waist, "if you take it off I literally might die. In fact," he lets go of you for a moment before shrugging his jacket off and wrapping it around your smaller form. His grin is lazy and his violet eyes are hazy as he speaks next,
"looking good there, Captain."
Your cheeks flush deep red and you slap his bicep playfully; earning a loud laughter from your boyfriend. Your eyes soften when you see how young Izana actually looks like this;free with small tears on the corner of his eyes. And suddenly, you're leaning in and kissing him on the lips.
Izana lets out a surprised noise,but immediately kisses you back. His lips taste like strawberry,and you're guessing he probably had those candies he loves so much.
When you finally part,both of your cheeks are flushed,and a silly smile rests on your lips. Izana pecks your lips one last time before giving you the extra helmet he got for you when you started dating.
"ready to go, princess?"
You wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze once
"lets go, pretty boy."
And even on the nights where you cant sleep, you'll be ok.
For my lovely @milky-aeons
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ap3arll · 5 hours
Text
☆loser!ellie hcs pt.6☆
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part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. part 5.
warnings: modern au, loser!ellie, fluff, slightly suggestive🔥(not really🤥), established relationship r n ellie, not explicit whether the r is fem or masc, all of these are just self inserts😰, some silly and random, the last one is a little not.., anyway…i think that’s it? yeah?
note: was feeling silly(literally everyday)lately and cooked these up
daily clicks. don’t buy tlou. read this. and this. help palestine
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☆ ellie loves little intimate moments between the two of you, and they don’t even have to be like 😈, just like a kiss, or holding hands, cuddling, doing things together. it just makes her feel closer to you, and love you even more then she already does if that’s eve possible tho??
☆ i’ve talked about this before but, i saw this pin in a thrift store a little while ago and it was an ‘i ❤️ my gf’ pin and i just know if ellie got her fingers on that she’s pinning it onto her bag or jacket and walk around with it high and proud.
☆ ELLIE WOULD DEFINITELY SING ‘my kind of woman’ by Mac deMarco TO YOU. OMGGGGGG do I even need to say anything else she just loves you so very much that she can’t even put in words so she sings you that song and GHDHDBB
☆ ellie loves hugging, like she might actually die if doesn’t get to hug you every time she sees you. it’s really cute too, because like, idk, but i just need her to hug me. and the hug won’t be too tight like a normal hug, but she’ll hold you for so long omgggg. the two of you could be somewhere like a party and she hug you and not let you go until she thinks she’s had enough hugging(literally never) and she’ll just wobble side to side, slowly and, UGHHHHHH
☆ ellie loves to lay on top of you, specifically on your back. like you could be laying down on the bed or the couch and ellie would just lay on top of you. and maybe some humping no because who wrote that👀🤷‍♀️😅.
☆ i feel like ellie loves yelp, she loves to leave a good(not always) review of a restaurant or wherever she was. and she’s just be so brutally honest that it might even come of as rude, but it’s okay because she’s just a girl🎀
☆ definitely sends you these through out the day or just when she’s feelin extra silly and goofy🤪😜😝
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☆ i just know ellie loves to play indie horror games. like they’re so fun and scary. and she could be like playing them, with you right next to her and she’ll say “this isn’t even scary” and then next jump scare she screams like she’s being stabbed to death😹
☆ yk that fairy trend on tiktok from like a million years ago, where you pretend to fly like a fairy but like only show your feet. i can 💯% see ellie doing that. like she’ll have a whole ass secret fairy acc and everything. she was a fairy🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️ yk what I’m talking abt??
☆ personally i can see ellie working at like best buy or the home depo, wearing one of those vests with her name on it, and it’s so cutee. like one day you just came in looking for something and went up to ellie for some help and she helps you because obv like your so hot who wouldn’t??? and then would spent an hour explaining something to you…🤤🤤in her soft raspy Ellie voice🥵🥵😼
☆ I feel like Ellie definitely does the dad pose without knowing she’s doing it
☆ ellie definitely film’s little blog of what she is doing and sends them to you. she probably used to make them on snapchat when she was younger and they have her baby voice and she cringes at herself but you find it very cute🫶
☆ prefers tap water over filtered water.
☆ takes screenshots of things she thinks she’s going to need in the future/or needs to remember and just forgets abt them and then complains abt not having any storage on her phone.
☆ HEAR ME OUT OKAY HEAR ME OUTTT🙏🙏🙏 i feel like ellie definitely has some CRAZY hear me outs… like ummm the green and the brown m&ms, uhh wtv her name is, nala, mrs. potts from beauty and the beast(1991)………., this girl also dk her name, the tooth fairy for the rise of the guardians.., lola from the shark tale… dick me down no who said that???😅😰 ANYWAY ummm that was definitely not me speaking… i have more, BUT i going to stop RIGHT here for your own safety..
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Text
WIP Wednesday
Fanonwriter2023 on AO3
Where CANON and FANON collide!
Season 7 FANON FanFic: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”
Chapter 27 will be posted soon.
This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!
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Currently 26 chapters completed: 1M Words; Rated: Mature
One chapter will be posted at a time.
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I'm excited to finish writing Chapter 27 because at the end of Chapter 26, while Buck was sleeping, he made a sound that Eddie hadn't heard before. He immediately sat up in bed and called Eddie's name but he was in a daze and to Eddie, he appeared to be still dreaming but since his eyes were open, he started talking to him to get his attention.
They spent the majority of the day before in the hospital after Buck collapsed in Eddie's arms and suffered a bradycardia event of epic proportions. He was unconscious and unresponsive after he received a package that was delivered to the firehouse while they were in Europe. Once he opened it and read the letter, he reached the part where it stated someone died and it reminded him of his own death and it triggered the event.
He had an MRI, EKG and an ultrasound to confirm what prompted the two events. After the results were returned, Dr. Salazar discharged him with a Holter monitor that he has to wear for 48-hours so she can check to make sure his heart hasn't suffered any long-term effects from the lightning strike. Currently, they're home alone since Chris is still at a sleepover.
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Here's a snippet from Chapter 27 of Eddie trying to console his husband after he woke up in a state of sheer horrifying terror.
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The sounds escaping Buck’s lips through his cries are filled with pain and suffering and Eddie recognizes it because he remembers it’s how he sounded when he started destroying every piece of furniture in his bedroom with a baseball bat almost two years ago.
“I love you.”  Eddie admits.  Then he starts speaking Italian.  “Ti amo, amore mio.”  [“I love you, my love.”]
“ED—DIE?  PLEASE DON’T—DON’T LET GO!  OK?”
“NEVER AMORE MIO!  I’LL NEVER LET GO OF YOU BECAUSE YOU’RE MY HEART, YOU’RE MY SOUL, YOU’RE MY EVERY—THING!”
As he continues holding on to his husband, he comforts him as they cry about the fact that Buck died last year.  He tries to compose himself several times but the weight and the magnitude of seeing Buck hanging from the aerial is a picture he can’t get out of his mind.  He reminds himself that they both can’t lose it because one of them needs to be coherent just in case Buck becomes unresponsive again like he did while they were at the hospital yesterday.
Even through their brokenness, he keeps talking to his husband.
“You’re alive my love.”
“You’re in the present with me and it’s January 3, 2024.”
“It’s been almost ten months since that night but you’re here with me and I’ll never let you go.”
“We’re going to die on the same day at the same time in 50 or 60 years from now.”
Buck’s cries are getting louder as he continues to feel every ounce of grief he’s been avoiding since last year.  And when his Holter monitor starts beeping, Eddie knows that sound means one of two things, either Buck’s heart is beating too fast or too slow.  Neither option is good because they’re both detrimental and they can both lead to Buck’s death if they aren’t resolved quickly.  If it’s beating too slowly again, he’s experiencing another bradycardia event and if it drops below 30 bpm, his heart could stop beating and that will lead to him dying.  If his heart is beating too fast, then he’s experiencing a tachycardia event which means he could have a heart attack if it’s not lowered to a level of 100 bpm.
In a soft and calm but stern voice, he calls, “Evan, my love! Can you hear me?”
He’s still crying but he nods his head while it’s lying on top of Eddie’s shoulder.
With the alarm still blaring, he says, “Amore mio, I need you to you to listen to me.  We have to get you calm so your heart rate will stabilize.”
Buck’s trying, he really is but he still feels that tug at the back of his head trying to take him under but he’s fighting to stay alert so he can remain responsive and conscious.
“Shh... my love.  I need you to listen to me and I also need you to breathe with me too.  Can you still hear me?”
He opens his mouth and he tries to speak but it takes several seconds for him to inhale enough air into his lungs so can respond.
Eddie doesn’t let go he just keeps holding onto him with their chests pressed together.
Is Buck going to suffer another bradycardia event? 👀
Or could he suffer from tachycardia this time? 🤷🏽‍♀️
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Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.
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Chapter Summaries
Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.
Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.
Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.
Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.
Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.
Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.
Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.
Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.
Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.
Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.
Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.
Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.
Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.
Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?
Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.
Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.
Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.
Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.
Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.
Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?
Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.
Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.
Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.
Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.
Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?
Chapter 26 - Buck and Eddie are once again faced with their greatest fear of losing each other but this time it could be permanent and if it is, then they won’t be able to spend the rest of their lives together.
Chapter 27 - Will be posted soon.
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Read chapters 1-26 are available on AO3.
Continue reading on AO3
Chapter 27 will be posted soon.
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zialltops · 3 days
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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s
Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 47.3k words | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak | oral (f receiving) | (semi) public sex | vaginal fingering
masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist
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You chance a glance over at the outlaw in the driver's seat while he scans his surroundings like he’s done this before, the rear view mirror and the road ahead never leaving his sight. “What if they catch up to us? I don’t want to get arrested, Joel!”
a/n: howdy folks! I’m pulling my head out of my ass and getting back into writing. These last few weeks have been leveling put for me and I’ve been feeling a lot better compared to how my life HAS been. These two were the perfect break even though this took my two whole months for only a few thousand words. I’ll be back sooner than last time with an update, but you’ll see me before then for another wip. Much love, hayhay 🤍
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Chapter 8: What Was I Thinkin?
Three hours ago, if you asked Joel how the night would come to its end, he’d tell you he’d probably be in the cabin, laying in his cold bed, staring up at his ceiling fan, alone—with his right hand working his dick to the tune of the farmer’s daughter. In fact, three hours ago, he’d told Tommy something similar.
“Joel, man—I promise It looks fine.”
He adjusts the buttons on his shirt another time, stuck between leaving one undone and letting the opening linger down his chest. “Fine ain’t gonna cover it, Tom—ain’t no way in hell I’m walkin’ up to her lookin jus’ fine.” Tommy huffs from behind him and starts to go through the closet beside Joel while he stares at himself in the body length mirror behind the door.
“What about this one?” Tommy beams, He’s holding up a black shirt on a hanger, slight dust on the shoulders from it’s lack of use. He’s half surprised the moths haven’t gotten to it yet. Its buttons are made of iridescent pearls that snap in place, labyrinthian embroidery adorning the breast pockets. “Ain’t worn it since before the accident.” He lifts one of the sleeves in his hands, lingering on the fitted cuff.
His mind takes him back to half forgotten nights under neon lights, long neck bottles and ropers calluses on his rodeo-worn hands. To money wasted on buckle bunnies and broncs, to years taken off his life under the sharp hooves of a one ton animal—years he’ll never get back. Years he wishes he’d never taken for granted.
He was a more confident man then, not cocky—but proud of his abilities in the arena, proud enough to walk tall, speak surly. He was a master in his sport because he trained religiously, fully immersed in the idea that this was his only shot at making it. He still believes that, even now. He wishes you could have met him then, when he was that Joel—Rodeo buckles and spurs, cowboy hats and stadium lights. When he was a white straw hat and chaps, an unsullied grin with a thirst for adrenaline and belt buckles.
He holds the black cotton between his well worked fingers and longs to be that man again—if only for one night. Would you like him? A cowboy in his prime with worked muscles, before his beer belly and the softness in his chest really set in? “This one’s good,” he huffs, brushing the dust off the shoulders before unbuttoning it enough to remove it from the hanger. “Lemme help you.” His brother offers. Joel’s not naive, he knows the fear is visible atop the surface of his flushed skin, in the deepened frown lines and the shake in his hands.
Tommy is a lot of things, but once in a while he softens around his selfish edges and he bends a little, reaching out for the weeping limbs of his brother, struggling with all his might to keep himself standing up straight in the storm, a resilient and irrepressible figure to look up to. Tommy sees the way the longing shines through the perforations in his irises, the way his shoulders slump with oppressive burden—and he takes pity on the older man. “I’ll wash it real quick while you shower. It’ll be good as new, fresh outta the dryer by the time you're done.” He looks up at Joel, who’s still transfixed in the forgotten token of his former youth, of the man who he used to be. Items he’d left in storage down in Austin that Hank had so graciously shipped to Jackson.
He almost wishes he’d never gotten it all back, it was easier then—to hide from who he was when he wasn’t reminded of his past every single day, but once in a while—that reckless, spotlight chasing cowboy grasps for the surface. And tonight? Tonight is your birthday, the town dance, where you’re going to be, probably looking like something Joel doesn’t have a shot in hell with. It’s your damn birthday and he wants to ask you to dance but he’s not sure the fee quick dance lessons he got will suffice. What if he stumbles? Steps on your pretty little feet? Drops you?
“Joel—“ there's a snap in front of his face and he pulls himself out of the chaos inside of his mind. “Man, you are loosin’ it. I’ve never seen you this wound up over some girl—“ his eyes snap up to his brothers and he huffs lowly. “She ain’t just—some girl. She’s Hank and Lou’s daughter, people I think of as family. She’s smart and resourceful, sometimes a little reckless but she makes me feel like…like I’m alive for once.” Tommy sets the black shirt down and sit on the side of Joel's bed. Beside him, Joel's weight sinks onto the mattress. “M’gettin’ old, Tom. I don’t have a lot of good years left in me and I don’t know if I’ll ever have a opportunity like this again.”
Tommy takes a glance over at the distant look in his brothers eyes. “Opportunity?” Joel's eyes flick over and he sighs. He wishes Tommy had a little bit of what he had built inside of him, the innate goal of settling down, finding where he belongs and who he belongs with.
“At bein’ happy. Good memories for my restless nights.” If he fucked this up and missed his chance, he’s not sure he’ll have it in him again, if it will ever feel like this with anyone else. He thinks he’s done, thinks you’re it. He thinks he could give you forever if you’d let him.
“S’that why you’re so messed up in the head? What, do you think she’s going to shoot you down?” Tommy’s voice picks up in pitch, offense used like a weapon to get his point across and Joel appreciates the gusto. “Think I’m gonna go home alone tonight. Think it’s just gonna be me and the crickets and this damn hand again, dreamin’ bout how damn sweet she is.”
Tommy’s hand reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt and he retrieves a silver flask, offering it to his older brother who takes it with unsure fingers. “Just be yourself, man. Walk up to her like you belong there. Just need a little bit of confidence, don’t let her think you’re second guessing yourself. I don’t know her like you do—but I know that girl is more than willing when it comes to you.”
Joel takes a long swig of rot-gut whiskey, lets is sink into his bones and find the will to drag himself into the shower and wash away the saw dust lingering on his skin from the floor of the dance hall, ease some of the soreness in his knees and back from learning how to dance.
When he’s finished, there's a clean shirt and a flask laying on his bed. Joel finishes off the whiskey before he fastens the first button.
Liquid courage is the only thing that gets him to town.
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He’s everywhere—everywhere. His hands burn on your thigh, on your hip where they dig in just a little too roughly when he pins you to the wall beside the back door. The second it closed behind you, there was a desperation clinging to the early spring air, perforating the slight chill until it shimmied beneath it and took life in the form of heat dripping across your exposed flesh. It was sticky and hot, sucking you in like a vortex straight to the center of what your world revolved around—Joel Miller and his touch that feels like fire.
He tastes like alcohol and tooth paste and part of you wonders if that’s what's changed about him, why he was so willing to let go of his reservations in-front of half of the town. He’s been drinking, drowning his insecurities enough to throw himself at you bravely.
Will he still be this Joel when you open your eyes in the morning? Will he regret it?
His teeth dig into your bottom lip and your brain goes fuzzy, stars forming behind your closed eyes. Insecurities can wait until tomorrow, you decide. His hips press forward ever so slightly and the outline of his cock can’t go unnoticed, not with the way it makes the fabric of your panties drag against your clit tantalizingly. Behind your closed eyes, the stars morph into crackles of fireworks, filling your senses with bright pleasure and desperate desire to chase those lights into the night.
You hike your legs higher, trying to drag him into the delicious delirium with you. The movement pulls a guttural groan out of the broad cowboy. “Joel—Joel,” you need his hands to leave brands on your skin where they’ve touched you, setting fire to your soul. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” Is he crumbling like you, throwing himself into this very moment right here? Is he as desperate as you are? Does it feel like a travesty and a triumph? The yearning you’ve endured, for the victory of finally knowing what he feels like when he kisses the breath from your lungs.
It’s more than you know how to articulate—more devastating than you anticipated and yet—it’s still not enough. It won't be enough until his heart beats in time with your own and you feel him wrapped up in your body
His teeth dig into your jaw and your body reacts before you tell it to, searching for the release only he can bring you.
“Touch me, please—please, touch me.”
And suddenly, in the time it takes to flip on a light switch, he’s gluttonous, insatiable and voracious—a wild predator set loose just to turn on its careful handler. The only thing that comes to mind, in comparison, is a pack of wolves frenzied to sink their teeth into the supple flesh of their prey.
In your case—Joel is the starved pack—and you? You are but an unsuspecting doe, practically sacrificing yourself to his uncontrollable famine.
Those thick digits, adorned with callouses earned from laborious work, hastily push aside the fabric of your dress in search of your covered center. He feels so fucking good when those digits push their way past the hem of your panties and he gasps against the shell of your ear. Like it feels just as good to him, letting the pads of his index and middle finger tease the seam of your lips before slipping between and dragging those rough digits over your hardened clit. It’s all the built up want, longing, needing that makes him feel so other-worldly, you’ll never experience something like this, the rush of relief to finally be his.
His fingers dip lower, searching for the source of all this slick adorning his knuckles, when his thumb drags idly over your already sensitive clit. Its like an electric shock straight to your sternum, arching you forward in search of anchorage to this reality altering interaction. There's a hint of alcohol swimming behind your fluttering eyelids, but his shuddering groan is sickeningly sobering. You want to say something, tell him how good he makes you feel, but the words bubble up in your chest and hang in your throat in the form of a silent sob, your mouth hanging open and your toes curling against your shoes.
“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” Where the hell has this Joel been hiding? He’s never been so vulgar, so vocal and confident in himself. His fingers tease the soft ring at your opening, smearing slick around on his fingers when he leans against your front to press his face against your heaving chest and neck. His fingers plunge in—and your body jerks against his solid form. He lets you shudder and tighten up against him while his thumb moves steadily, never coming off the peak of your nerve—locked on it with such perfected percussion that there is no jerky catch, just steady—drowning pleasure. His rough pant of breath paints your shoulder in sticky warmth and your thighs tighten around him, begging to draw him into your desperation.
“She’s just cryin’ for me, ain’t she, Honey?” His drawl sounds like sweet tea on a hot summer afternoon, like your sight set on the Austin sunset from the seat of an old saddle, driving cattle through tall grass and endless horizons.
Being touched by Joel Miller feels like coming home.
He finds a steady pace, working his fingers in and out, each drag punctuated by the ridges of his knuckles and the rough pads of his finger tips. Just faintly, you can make out the wet sound your sex makes every time he fucks his fingers into you intentionally. Its instantaneous the way heat blooms in your pelvis, knotting up in your stomach until you’re so overwhelmed, you’re trembling in his grip. “She’s so fuckin’ greedy, pretty little cunt needs to be stuffed, don’t she? G’damn, you’re quiverin’—you gonna cum f’me already?” His words are like a dirty secret, never meant to be revealed—knowing exactly what kind of storm that truth would bring. Let the rain pour down, let the thunder crack and the gusts rip the apprehension from your bones—because Joel Miller wants you and you’ve been waiting for this moment for two years.
You’ve imagined this a million times, slipped your fingers between your legs to the mere idea of this revered and dignified southern gentleman—more once you’d put a face to the elusive cowboy. No matter how deeply you lost yourself to your imagination, none of it will ever amount to the way cold brick feels against your exposed back, the way denim jeans ruffs up the insides of your smooth thighs, the way a felt Stetson bumps against your temple when his fingers curl against a spot inside of you no man has ever found, dragging the air from your lungs, robbing your vocal cords of their melody. With your eyes rolled back and your desire strung tight, you manage to string together enough sound to produce words.
“Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum! Please!”
A third, assured finger slips in right beside the other two and slam forward, sending you spiraling down that one way path towards pure ecstasy. His fingers curl again and his thumb quickens, pushing you up and up until you’re sure you’re about to melt through his finger tips, a weeping puddle at his feet. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.”
His command is your saving grace, the final twist that undoes the well wound rope holding you together. A variation of his name rips from your throat and consumes the space around you, invoking a bright euphoria that shrouds every nerve ending you possess. He doesn’t even know what he’s just subjected your body to—a life altering experience that you will never be able to recreate with another person. “S…s’the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” is the only thing your mind conjures up once you’ve come down enough to speak. He’s still holding onto you, slowly slipping his fingers out and letting you down with a satisfied chuckle.
“Wunna taste you,”
How will you handle another assault from that honed attention? How will you ever unsee that unruly tousle of curls between your thighs?
He doesn’t give you long enough to form a protest before he’s rushing you through the parking lot, a determination in his step that you’ve never seen. He’s surpassed the point of antsy when he yanks open the passenger door and finds leverage on your hips to hoist you up, then toss you down on the torn upholstery. You should say something—tell him to slow down before you pass out from the burn of his hands—but fuck you don’t want him to stop, consciousness be damned.
Instead, you watch him set his cowboy hat on the dusty dashboard, the silver trim of the band shimmering with luster in the golden street lamps. He drinks your body in visibly, relishing in every curve and inhale of breath. When his vision finds yours, they are nearly black with desire—his pupils having consumed every inch of bourbony brown. When his big hands find your thighs again, the resistance bleeds away and gives way to insurmountable, greedy hunger.
“C’mere, girl.” The hands on your thighs dig into the flesh, leaving finger shaped dimples in your sensitive skin. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.” Jesus christ.
If your friends could see you now, they’d all laugh at how easy you are, but right now—it’s just you and your cowboy—you’ll never be anything but easy for him.
His hands move with fever, hastily pushing your dress up your hips. “I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” That same ferocious want consumes you, possessing your hands to work on their own accord, helping Joel shimmy your panties down your thighs and over your heels.
You have enough time to register the way he stuffs the black lace into the front pocket of his wranglers before that head of his is forcing its way under your dress. He spreads your legs easily, pushes and pulls with his hands until his mouth seals over your clit, drenching your nervous system in blinding heat.
He’s good, so good at this. His tongue slides through your dripping folds with a tedious, monotonous rhythm. He’s licking for a taste, for his own glutinous thirst based on the way he groans and sighs against the softness of your lips. His eyes flick up at the same time your body starts to quiver, trying to adjust to so much honed desire narrowed in on you. “J-Joel, please don’t st-top.” Your eyes start to leave his in favor of rolling back in your head when your chest arches out, searching for a breath of sobering air, for something to hold onto so you don’t crumble apart. “Feels so good—you feel so good.”
His mouth closes over you and he sucks, pulling your clit against the smoothness of his tongue as he flicks it over and over, soothing the sensitive bud, while actively robbing you of any coherent train of thought. The only sounds that leave your lungs are sharp gasps and whines, fueled by the low groaning sound he’s muffling between your thighs. He releases you and your body reels, drawing in breath after breath to catch up with your racing heart.
“Wunna split this little pussy open on me,”
Oh fuck, oh fuck fuck—fuck.
You have long enough to gaze down at him, watching as he slides the flat of his tongue through your lips, over the sensitive bud, before your head is dipping back again.
“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” you heave and he pulls away completely, shocking you into a mewling, whining mess. “You got what, baby, use your words.”
Your body bares down on nothing, /wish he would just give it up already, unbuckle that belt, push down those wranglers and fuck you like you deserve. Joel grunts while he watches, letting it rumble through his whole body. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”
His whole demeanor shifts, alternating from this brazen, confident cowboy to the man suddenly lost between your thighs, sucking and slurping, licking and moaning to himself. He’s gutless, starving and desperate, he whimpers when you squeeze your thighs and cry his name, holding on tight until the flash of blue and red and the sound of a loud voice rips him from his mission.
“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”
Joel rips himself away from your body before you even have a chance to cover yourself. “Fuck-fuck,” he looks around sharply, eying the lone officer in a tan blazer with flashing lights fastened to its hard top. The sheriff has a light in their hand, leaning over the side of the blazer. You manage to pull your dress down and scoot back, trying to hide yourself from the light shining on the two of you.
Joel's gaze falls away from the officer, parked behind the truck, blocking it in. Instead, he looks forward, into the clearing in front of the parking lot, half lit by the street lamp. His jaw clicks and he looks set on whatever is going through that big brain of his. “Put a seat belt on.”
What?
Joel grabs his hat and slides across the bench seat quickly, slamming the door behind him. He makes it across you and throws himself in front of the steering wheel, finding the ignition quickly to turn the keys in the shaft.
The chevy roars to life at the same time that he slams the gear shifter into drive and plows over the parking block. Before you have a chance to register what's happening, the blue pickup is sliding through mud and grass, leaving tire tracks in the field as he cuts through it towards the highway.
“Joel, what in the—fuck!“ you shout, reaching up for the oh-shit handle, while the other hand reaches for the solid form beside you, grasping him by the bicep as he snorts nervously. “Just—calm down for a second, we’ll lose ‘em.”
Your heart races and your nerves radiate through your entire body. You’re a good kid, you’ve never ran from the cops before, never been in trouble for crying out loud. You did your best in school, tried to make your parents proud despite your small side of rebellion. And yet, here you are—trying your best to hang on while he cuts corners and runs stop signs, old alleyways and back roads through the thickets. The truck roars past speed limit signs, loosing rodeo flyers pinned to telephone poles when he slams the gears—orange papers fluttering in the settling dust.
You chance a glance over at the outlaw in the driver's seat while he scans his surroundings like he’s done this before, the rear view mirror and the road ahead never leaving his sight. “What if they catch up to us? I don’t want to get arrested, Joel!”
He snorts, taking another random left and speeding down the street. “Ain’t gonna get arrested, honey. Just trust me.”
Trust him? How could he even ask you that, like that wasn’t what this was all along. You trusted him like you trusted the sun to set and rise again, like you trusted the birds to sing and the rivers to run—you’d trusted Joel with your family’s dream and he never let you down.
Somewhere along the way, you lose the ability to fight off your grin, Joel manages to leave flashing red and blue in a cloud of dust. He cuts through a group of trees leading into a clearing and shuts off the lights. He drives by moonlight, effectively covering his tracks and making his way onto another road, leading up the mountain towards the ranch. He pulls off another dirt road that is cut out along the side of the hill, but he isn’t in as much of a hurry as he was before. He takes a last left, bringing the truck to the edge of the hillside that overlooks the entire town of jackson—from the dance hall—to the bar—to the red and blue set of lights on the south side of town, still looking for you and your cowboy.
The world grants you a few silent moments to catch your breath, before it completely robs you of tingling in your muscles, the conscious connection between the two of you. The reality of being truly alone with him is sobering, with nothing but the trees and the wildlife to offer a distraction.
Now that the air has cooled and your heart has finished pounding in your ears, you can make out the faint hum of the stereo, the FM dial lit up by the soft glow behind it. The station is still the same as it was when you were a girl, riding in your daddy’s pickup, playing old country music like it did in the days of your youth.
Now, it rings in your ears with the nerves seeping into your bones, settling into an uncomfortable dust. Right now, of all times? Anxiety has to claw up your chest and wrap around your throat while his saliva is still drying on the inside of your thighs?
Fuck, his beard is still glistening in the green-glow of the stereo.
“You’re starin’ at me.” He says almost quietly. You expected him to tease and flirt, maybe boast, but his voice waivers halfway through and you start to pick up on his slight nerve. Under all that charm and intensity is starting to give way to a much more vulnerable Joel—a man you know all too well.
“You’re just, uh—“ you swallow thickly and try to find the courage to meet his deep brown eyes. “Your beard is…wet.” When you do find his irises, his mouth picks up in a half smirk. If he’s as scared as you are right now, he’s doing a good job of hiding it. He’s giving it everything he’s got to hide it from you.
It’s been so long and you need this. Need to be touched, appreciated, worshipped.
The look in his eyes tells you that he’s eager to kneel.
“And who’s fault is that, hmm?” That sweet, sultry accent drags you in, sliding closer on the seat until you're nearly tucked into his side, leaned back against the seat while he looms over you. He’s still nervous, you can see it floating around in his dark eyes, but his jaw clicks like he’s trying to rein something in.
Silence falls upon you once more, but unbeknownst to the cicadas and the crickets, your dancing gazes say everything you need to hear. His eyes drop to your lips and yours to his. His tongue peaks out unconsciously, wetting his bottom lip ever so slightly—like he’s tasting you there.
His mouth clicks shut and it's then that you glance up. His eyes are back on yours, suddenly so much softer with a lulled arch to his eyebrows. In the depths of his eyes you find renewed hunger, fire burning in those pools of smooth chocolate. Your body relaxes, succumbs to the form of his plains of muscles adorning his body. When you tilt your head up to him in offering, you sink so deeply into those dark pools you can nearly taste the sweetness of him like velvety candy melting against your taste buds.
“Joel—“ you choke out, deciding then that if he waits a second longer you’ll suffocate.
There's things about this life that can never be stopped, inexorable phenomenons that are unavoidable. The seasons will always change. The storms will always come, lightning will always strike. The days will always end and the sun will rise again on the next.
And Joel Miller will always, always break when you say his name like that.
He falls into you with a sharp intake of breath, crashing his mouth against yours with surprising accuracy. It’s so easy to let him take over with the perfect combination of rush and savor he puts into the way he envelops you. His mouth is soft, but persistent, wrapping around your bottom lip when he sucks it between his teeth for a soft bite that makes you want to live in this moment forever.
You nearly do because you get absolutely lost in kissing him, you don’t protest when he leans you back on the bench seat, you don’t put up any sort of fight when he spreads your thighs with his wide hips. When his hands grip your knees, you know you’re completely done for.
He pulls away from your mouth and his eyes find yours in the low green glow and there, you find everything you’ve ever longed for.
“I…I think,” Joel shifts, looking down at his hands like he’s just woken up from sleep walking straight into your heart and soul. “I think I should get you home, s’gettin late.”
Late? Your poor muddled brain cannot keep up with how quickly he fades in and out of doing anything to have you, to be terrified to touch you. How quickly he slips into a starved desire to shaking in his boots.
Not for the first time, you wish you could reach right into his brain and pull out whatever it is that makes him think you don’t want those rough hands all over your bare body. He’s already had a taste of you, already kissed you—what more could be standing in his way?
“Home? Joel, we were just getting started—“ he clears his throat and sits up, trying to slide away from you but your heels dig into his tailbone and drag him back. “Started down a road we both know only leads to nothing but trouble and regret.”
What, the, fuck?
“I’m—you think this is a bad idea?”
The uncomfortable air settles back in between you and your legs around him loosen. “Think you're going to realize really quickly this ain’t what you want and this—I’ve got…too much on the line.”
He has too much on the line? What about the ranch? Your childhood home about to be lost to the bank? What about the dance hall where he’s built a new floor to make you smile? Does it all wash away with his assumed doom?
“What are you saying? This…this was a mistake? Joel I still have your fucking spit drying on my pussy and you—you regretted it already?” The realization feels like a dull blade straight to your gut, forcing it way in and twisting you from the inside out. It burns with shame and agony and you pull yourself out from under his sturdy build.
“I didn’t mean—I regret anything, fuck knows I don’t—“ no, no. You’ve given this man so much of yourself, committed so much to be thrown around and have your feelings stomped on.
“Then what the fuck does it mean, Joel! You—you made me cum while telling me you wanted to stuff my cunt but now you think this is…” you have a realization then, that maybe—just maybe, he does actually regret it. What does he think, you’d turn around and throw him out on his ass? If he truly thinks that low of you then maybe…
“This was a big fucking mistake.” You say coldly, making up your mind as you right your bunched up dress and adjust your fixed gaze on the passenger side window.
“Take me home.” It’s not a request.
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It’s not an invitation, either, Joel understands as he watches you close the front door behind you later that night, settling his made up mind.
He presses his palm to his crotch twice and comes in his pants right there in the driveway, just like he knew he was going to.
And he feels like a fucking fool.
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oceansssblue · 1 day
Note
If you're still taking clone requests, I would LOVE to see something cute and domestic! A couple ideas I've been rotating in my head lately:
-Fives and reader messing around in the kitchen together, making dinner, dancing to stupid music and teasing each other's cooking skills, which inevitably ends in a huge mess (and dinner probably being forgotten about...)
-Wrecker getting sick and being forced into bed despite trying to keep working. It's totally against his will at first, but soon he starts to enjoy the chance to be soft and gentle. The reader finally convinces him to let them take care of him for once, assuring him that he doesn't always have to be the strong one
-Echo and the reader discussing starting a family, Echo expressing his doubts about what kind of father he would be and the reader reassuring him, telling him how much they love watching him with Omega and how good a father he'd be. The more they talk about it the more excited Echo gets at the idea
Hope these sparked something for you! Have a great day :)
Okay okay! Decided to do the two bottom ones as I've already done a kitchen fluffy one with fives and got a few for him requested as well (one of which I'll be working on next).
They're short, since I wanted to do both of then in the same post under the cut. Hope you like them, enjoy!
"BED REST"
TBB REQUESTS– WRECKER/GN READER 📩💖
WARNINGS: none
Somehow, inherently with being a big, strong person, Wrecker was used to helping people. Maybe it was just Wrecker's personality on itself; the way he felt truly happy when taking care of someone, being part of the solution to someone's problem. Wether it be physicall help or kind words, it made him feel warm.
What Wrecker wasn't used to, however, was to be taken care of. Well, he had a very close relationship with his brothers, and they always had an eye out for each other; but it wasn't like that. It didn't soothe any deeper emotional part of him. It was more of a... physical safety check of sorts. Tech had actually suggested to integrate a monthly therapy session to talk about their respective feelings years ago; but it hadn't ended up being a reality, lost instead in his never ending line of hypothetical ideas.
Maybe that's the reason why Wrecker doesn't say anything about the way he's feeling himself. Maybe that's the reason why he puts up a big smile on his face and sits through the presentation of your project as if he's not feeling downright awful. He's so kind and sweet even in his state you don't even notice it until you're actually home with him; and you see him pulling up an uncomfortable expression when he watches you take out some pasta from your fridge.
"Wrecker?" You look at him confused and slightly worried. "Are you feeling okay, honey?"
Wrecker tries to smile again; but his expresion falls and he quickly takes a hand to his stomach, putting slight preasure to it.
You frown and close the fridge, abandoning the tupper back inside of it and aproaching him closely. You carefully place your hand on his wide shoulder.
"Sweetheart, are you feeling ill?" You guess.
Wrecker hesitates.
"Oh, it's nothing" he quickly answers, even with his face twisting in pain. "Just my stomach being whinny".
You smile and caress his shoulder. Poor Wrecker, trying to ignore himself to push through your presentation and make you happy. You can't have him suffering.
"Why don't you go lay down on bed for a bit? I'll make you some tea and be right there" you suggest.
Wrecker frowns in disagreement.
"Oh, no, love, there's no need. I'm fine, really. I'll probably be as good as new in a pair of hours".
You're a little confused as by why he's so reluctant to admit he's not doing good and let you help. You try to soothe him with another caress and a smile; gentle expression on your face.
"And you can rest til you do" you insist, softly but firm, leaving no space for him to evade you.
Wrecker glances to the side.
"Oh, uh... Love..." he suddenly exhales deeply, as if surrendering, and adds in an embarassed tone "I just don't want you to feel like you need to fuss over me. I can take care of myself".
You blink slowly. Ah. You might be starting to see the problem. Maybe it's related with the fact that he's a soldier; always the hero, the saviour, and not the damsel in distress. Maybe it's just that he's Wrecker; always strong and efficient. Well...
"You don't have to be strong with me all the time" you whisper to him, closing up the distance between each others faces and nuzzling your nose with his, affectionately. "I know you can take care of yourself, Wreck, but I want to take care of you too".
Wrecker sighs, and you know you've almost got him convinced, so you continue.
"You always take such good care of me, love. I want to take care of you now. Wanna make you feel loved and safe. Let me, please?"
Wrecker melts and finally nods. You give him a little smile and direct him to your bedroom. Your boyfriend slowly lays in bed, with his back against the wall, watching you hesitantly; you give him a peck on the cheek before returning to the kitchen and quickly putting up together the best of your teas. You think it might help to settle Wrecker's stomach.
You go back to your bedroom with it in your hand; and you carefully pass it to Wrecker, who inmediately gives it an exploratory sip. He humms in aproval; and you find a spot besides him, both of your thighs pressed together.
You patiently wait til Wrecker has finished his tea and has left the empty cup on your nightstand. Then, you slowly direct the clone to scooch downwards and place his head on your lap. You caress his head, then his shoulders and chest; soothing patterns with the sole purpose to comfort him.
Wrecker melts. This was better than what he had thought of at first. He thought it might be uncomfortable, relinquishing control to some other person, being the one in need; but oh, this is great, with your soft hands and your tender words. He might grow to even like it.
Your hands squeeze a sore spot on his shoulder and he groans.
Yeah. He will.
THE END.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"TO PLAN A FAMILY"
TBB REQUESTS – ECHO/F READER 📩💖
WARNINGS: Mentions of prosthetics and starting a family.
You first noticed it at the end of your first year dating Echo. The lingering glances, the way he seemed to grow lost in his thoughts, how he sighed deeply as if there was something pulling at his heart. You became observant throughout the first part of that second year together; and you reached your conclusion. It's always Hunter and Omega.
They're incredibly sweet, both of them. It's warming to see them interact together in their own special father and daughter relationship. Hunter's firm and always attentive; Omega in his teenager era trying to be more independent. Trying to show everyone she's capable, though you all know she is.
Inevitably, you start paying more attention to Echo's own interactions with the blond girl. For some reason, Omega has always saved a special spot on her heart for Echo; and since you returned with him to the Marauder after a last dangerous mission with Rex and the Rebellion, she has grown even closer to the man that holds your own heart.
It makes you melt, the way he takes care of her. How he teaches her and how he patiently waits for her to replicate his lesson; gentle hands redirecting her and a proud, small smile pulling on his lips when she achieves it. When things get hard, and Omega grows sad or restless, Echo talks her through it; voice soft but not masking reality, helping her understand and process that things can't always be as they want to, but that there's always a reason to keep trying. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest when you think on how many times this wonderful man has said those same words to himself.
"Echo" you whisper his name one night when you can't keep holding it in. He slowly turns in bed towards you and hums sleeply. You brace yourself for any possible reaction of his. "Do you ever want to have kids?"
At first, Echo seems to freeze. Then he blinks twice, as if he is trying to move on from the fact that you've actually asked him this question out loud; and then he sighs quietly.
"I don't know if I should, to start with" he answers, voice barely audible in the silence of your bedroom.
You frown, lost.
"Why not?"
Echo mirrors your position in front of him; laying on one side of his body with his prosthetic knees slightly bent and head resting on his left bycep.
His eyes move away from yours, glancing down in that reserved way of his that indicate he's feeling a mix of contradicting emotions. You know him well by now.
"We're not living the safest of lifes, cyare. What kind of father would I be if I had to dissapear to help Rex here and there, or put my son through a constant runaway? Besides... They just might get scared of me".
You know the last statement refers to his appearance –you haven't met him before, so you've always seen this shape of his hot as fuck–; and you gently clasp his shoulder with your hand.
"Don't say that" you answer, softly. "They won't. They won't care if you have methalic legs or arms or a headset. They'd love you just the same, just like I do. It's what good families do".
Echo stays silent, thoughtfull. He shimmies forward in bed so that you're touching now; one of your thighs quickly moving over his hip and snuggling together, noses touching and nuzzling slowly.
"Would you?" He finally asks you. "Have kids?"
Your heart beats steadily inside your chest. You can't lie to him.
"Yes" you whisper, hand moving to caress his cheek delicately. You sigh, wishful, and you confess "I love watching you with Omega. You've just got the perfect ammount of gentleness, firmness, patience and honesty. I can't help but imagine you crouching down to explain something to a little Echo as well".
You kiss him sweetly and whisper in front of his lips "You'd be a great father, riduur".
Echo makes a sound with the back of his throat, pulling you tigther towards him. You close your eyes in the embrace.
Echo pictures it in his mind. A smaller version of himself and you, a perfect mix, running around and asking innocent questions to the both of you. How you'd look with him in your arms and how much you'd both love him. It's so beautiful in his mind it suddenly hurts for it not to be real.
Echo hums and conceeds.
"We can talk thorugh it seriously tomorrow" he agrees, pulling a radiant hopeful smile on your face "But right now it's late, and we both need to sleep".
You nod enthusiastically. You know you won't be able to for at least another hour, too excited at the possibility of your recents dream becoming true; but you'll just close your eyes and listen to his steady heartbeat.
You give his lips a peck and glance downwards. You tap his prosthetics with your index.
"You gonna take this today, mesh'la?" You ask him casually.
Once thing you have learned is that Echo doesn't like his physical problems to be treated as if he were made of glass. He understands the empathy; but it makes him uncomfortable, sometimes. By now, after two years together, you've already perfectioned your ways; and the best one is to just be normal about it, not to avoid it or tone it down. Echo's dissabled, but not uncapable. There's an abism of a difference.
"Yeah" Echo answers, moving to search the joints and attachments to abandon his prosthetic legs to the side. "My hips hurt today".
You hum and patiently wait for him to pull them off, leaving them carefully on the floor, before he rolls back towards you and you instanctly welcome him back into your arms.
You kiss him again and yawn.
"We'll take a warm bath tomorrow and I'll give you a nice massage afterwards" you offer, growing sleepy.
Echo smiles.
"You're too good to me" he whispers, cuddling closer.
You hum in disagreement.
"I'm as good as you deserve".
That night, you both dream of your own little family.
THE END.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
taraaaa! Two in one love, u can't complain! Hahahaha. I hope you liked them, they ended up really fluffy and sweet on my opinion.
I'll be writing either a Fives or Tech request next, stay stunned!
Xx,
Sky.
Back to general masterlist here!
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frozenjokes · 1 day
Text
There Are Many Ways To Deal With The Awkward Tension Of Reconnecting With An Old Friend. Beating The Shit Out Of Each Other.. Is A Way
and also there’s mermaids
“Bdubs! Hello, hello, what are you up to today?” Scar laid across his bed, kicking his legs as he watched the trail cams sitting at his desk. There was a lot of shuffling on the other end of the phone, so Scar waited patiently, letting his mind wander. It had been a week since The Incident at the cove, but Mumbo still hadn’t resurfaced. Scar didn’t blame him of course, Mumbo was the flighty type and Scar himself would have been scared shitless if he had been there (and who knew what they were talking about; Scar’s cameras didn’t have sound), but Scar couldn’t keep himself from worrying.
He had driven out there the moment Etho left, of course he had! Grian made some excuse, as if Scar couldn’t tell when he was lying, but it didn’t matter, because Mumbo was back, and Scar didn’t need to be babysat anyway. Unfortunately, Mumbo hadn’t been around, nor had he been there the next day when Scar had made the trek, so instead he settled on watching the trail cams over the course of the next week. Of course, Mumbo hadn’t shown up, not even once. And Scar reviewed all the footage, even from when he was asleep or away from home- it wasn’t a crime to be excited about your friend, alright?
In the meantime though, since he couldn’t just watch his cameras all day, Scar spent most of his free moments terrorizing Etho.
“Scar! You’re on speaker, I’m watering my plants. Might be a little feedback, I’m moving around. As for plans, not much, but this is going to be the next hour of my life, so, there’s that,” Bdubs mused, and there was a lot of feedback. When Bdubs started to fill his watering can in the sink, Scar couldn’t even hear a thing.
“Perfect! I was just wondering, is Etho home?”
Scar guessed Bdubs didn’t hear much of what he said over the water, but Etho’s name was enough of a clue, Bdubs yelling across the apartment to where his roommate was probably lounging on the couch. “Etho? What do you want me to tell Scar?”
Bdubs shut the water off, and Scar heard the tail end of a groan. “That I’m not here. Bdubs, I told you that is always the answer, you do not have to ask me every time.” There was a bit more grumbling, but Scar couldn’t make it out.
“You might’ve changed your mind. I don’t know,” Bdubs continued, undeterred, “And I got two new plants I wanted to show him, I need help with names.”
“Why would you ask Scar of all people- his names are awful.”
“Hey!” Scar yelled to be heard, but he was deftly ignored.
“I like Scar’s names. They’re dumb, but always kind of sweet, y’know? And when I look at them and remember, it makes me smile.”
Scar preened, cutting in before Etho got another word in, “Why thank you! Yes Bdubs, I would love to come over and look at your plants. Can I invite Grian?”
The surprised silence was a little bit painful, but didn’t last long, “Grian? Sure, I don’t see why not! You guys talking again?”
“Ah- kind of. We’ve been stuck a little bit at the ‘sending cat videos over Instagram’ stage of things for about a month, but we’ve seen each other one or two times since then. Last week actually, we hung out for like an hour. It was nice.”
“Oh no.” A distant Etho said, and after a bit of feedback, Scar heard Bdubs respond sharply,
“Oh no, what?”
Scar cringed a bit, but Etho didn’t seem bothered, an accusatory edge to his voice, “I bet Scar tried bonding with his estranged friend by telling him about all his conspiracies! Just a week ago, that’s when this mermaid business started. Neither of us have even met Grian!”
“Scar wouldn’t do that.” Bdubs defended astutely, Scar following up with his own placating Noooooooo! to which Bdubs turned on him immediately. “Scar! You did not start sharing your Etho conspiracies with Grian, did you?”
“I would never! I would never, Bdubs, you think so little of me!”
“I am uninviting Grian. I can not deal with two idiots interrogating me about random bullshit. Mermaids, spies, aliens- offensive, by the way, Scar, nor was I grown in a tube.”
“I didn’t say you were an alien, just abducted at a young age! Also, that’s what a tube-grown clone would say, just you wait until I find your doppelgänger. I have a feeling you don’t remember, implanted memories and such, but once I get enough evidence you’ll see. Also you can’t uninvite Grian because I didn’t call you. I called Bdubs. And Bdubs invited him.”
“Bdubs! Uninvite Grian.”
“Oh..” Bdubs said, “But I’ve heard so much about him, I really would love to meet him! And you know I’d just love to show off the apartment, it’s been ages since anyone has come over, and so much has changed! Actually, I haven’t even seen most of my friends in like a month. You know, we need to do more group hangouts. I’m going to plan something. I’m going to do it right now.” Again, Bdubs turned on the sink to fill the watering can, and Scar missed 90% of what he was saying, though he did catch an exaggerated groan from Etho.
“Great! I’ll be right over! Unless you wanted to pick me up?”
Bdubs shut the sink water off. “I don’t. It’s a two minute drive, you’ll be fine.”
“See you in ten, then! It’s a lovely day for a walk.”
Bdubs scoffed, and Scar could hear the eye roll over the phone, “Enjoy, then.” Scar smiled, hanging up without another word, and gathering his things for the walk over, only glancing a normal amount of times at his monitor before slipping out the door. He lifted his phone to call Grian, but lost his nerve and texted him instead. They’d talked about this last night, so it wasn’t a surprise or anything; Grian had said that Scar clearly wasn’t any good at needling any information out of Etho, impatient as he always was, but Scar didn’t think Grian would have the tact for this kind of thing. Grian disagreed, and the arrangement was made.
Grian was utterly taken with the idea of a translator, a sentiment Scar didn’t entirely share. It would be nice, yes, and Scar would really love to know the things Mumbo had to say, but he was not optimistic about Etho agreeing to do something like that- he wasn’t even sure Etho knew the language at all. Despite him and Mumbo seeming to get along, that could have just been solidarity between the species, and even though Etho did just randomly show up as a human out of nowhere one day, Scar wasn’t entirely sure if the time before that was spent solely as a mermaid. There could be more than one mermaid language! He and Grian didn’t know anything at all, really.
And if all of these things lined up perfectly (which Grian seemed to think they would), getting Etho to do anything was still a fucking chore. Etho was a man of habit. Once he decided he liked something a certain way, he never wanted to change, and a lot of these little habits could be massive deals like: leaving the house! Most days, Etho did not leave the house, doing freelance work that facilitated that lifestyle (game testing/design/other programming work- Scar didn’t quite remember). When he did leave the house however, he only wanted to do so with Bdubs, holding Bdubs’ hand (his emotional support Bdubs; Etho’s words, not Scar’s), literally going nowhere without being within a few feet of Bdubs, as if the ground might open up and swallow him whole if his roommate strayed out of sight.
And it wasn’t entirely Etho’s fault. He was largely visually impaired, in part due to his albinism, and in other part due to the old injury that spanned across his right eye, leaving him mostly blind and practically devoid of any hand-eye coordination. Bdubs met him in a vulnerable time, so he’d kind of latched on, afraid of most other people for quite a long while, so Scar did understand, he did. However, sometimes Etho’s stubborn mannerisms could be very frustrating, especially since he was often opposed to any and all efforts to find him other accommodations.
Scar had been trying to convince him to get on the waitlist for a service dog for years (among quite a few other things), and that he would even help him train one from scratch (something Scar had always been interested in doing, and he had connections that could help him out), but Etho just wouldn’t budge. Bdubs really loved the idea, and the apartment they’d moved into a couple years ago had been explicitly picked because it allowed dogs, but alas, Etho was Etho, and whenever he and Bdubs made even the tiniest bit of progress to convince him, he would double right back weeks later.
This aversion to leaving the house did not, however, stop Etho from fucking off by himself constantly, which drove Bdubs crazy more than anyone else. If Etho was feeling nice, he’d give about a day’s advance notice, but half the time Bdubs would just come home from work to a note and an extremely unspecified time frame of when Etho would be back. That was part of the reason Bdubs wanted him to have a dog so badly; he really worried when Etho would go off by himself for days at a time, especially when he seemed to be so dependent on Bdubs so often. Though, Scar got the sense Bdubs was just as much an emotional support as he was a physical one, and told him as much on bad days when Bdubs couldn’t quite get out of his own head. Maybe that’s part of why Scar was so frustrated with Etho so often. It didn’t feel fair to Bdubs.
Still, what did Scar know anyway? Etho had been getting a bit better with his agoraphobia as well as general fear of literally everything, and in the past year he’d even gone out alone with Scar or Cleo; mundane things like taking a walk or grocery shopping, but monumental all the same. In hindsight, maybe the reason Etho was so opposed to a service dog was because of the part time mermaid business; he couldn’t exactly take it into the water or take care of it when he was away. Maybe the responsibility was too much pressure? Still, surely he had some control over when he was or wasn’t a mermaid; there had been someone else, someone he was coordinating with. Scar hadn’t known Etho had any other friends. Somehow, this felt just about as monumental as learning magic was real- maybe that was mean, but it was true. The stranger had been dressed oddly as well, though the robe was likely because mermaids didn’t really wear clothes. Pants probably wouldn’t end very well when you’re growing a tail.
He didn’t get much more time to think before he was at Bdubs’ and Etho’s apartment, taking the elevator up after he was buzzed in.
“Hello there!” he announced himself as he walked through the door, greeting Bdubs with a hug and Etho with a wave. He left Etho to whatever he was doing on his laptop, letting Bdubs sweep him away to the new members of the household. Scar named the cactus Squishy, which both of them found hilarious, and the vine Maple, for no other reason than it felt right. Grian arrived just a few minutes later, just as Etho was making sandwiches and Bdubs and Scar were chatting at the kitchen table, but Bdubs got up to greet him, his natural smile coming through. Scar’s own smile fell strained, his fingers curling against the grained wood as he fought to stay seated. Maybe Etho heard the squeak of his chair or his nails against the table, because just a moment later he was behind Scar, setting a plate on the placemat in front of him, and trailing a hand over his shoulder as he returned to the kitchen island. About the extent of Etho’s physical affection, and a gesture Scar appreciated deeply. After setting down two more plates; one for Bdubs and one for Grian, he sat by Scar’s side, leaving the chairs opposite from them open.
Bdubs and Grian didn’t join them immediately, Bdubs eager to give his tour, so Scar found something else to talk about while they waited, Etho offering his own sparse input while he played solitaire instead of eating, the cards laid in place of a plate. Scar wondered absently if Grian’s heart clenched like his did when he heard the other’s voice, or if there was just something wrong with him. He noticed Etho staring from his good eye, though had trouble reading him. Etho never did emote very much, and in combination with the mask, it wasn’t easy. On the other hand, Scar was sure Etho saw right through him.
“How do you like your sandwich?” Etho asked, turning back to his game, though it was quite obvious Scar hadn’t touched it.
“I was waiting,” he said, feeling a bit awkward, but Etho shook his head.
“Don’t.” There was intention there, so Scar didn’t fight him, getting the sense Etho was trying to tell him something he just wasn’t understanding. Maybe he looked less like a kicked puppy when he was eating. Or maybe Scar was just reading too much into it, and Etho just wanted to know how he liked the sandwich. But then again, Etho didn’t ask a second time.
It wasn’t long before Grian and Bdubs joined them though, Scar not noticing at all that Grian chose to sit across from Etho instead of him, but he didn’t get the chance to linger, not with Bdubs’ bright conversation and Etho’s small banter. It was nice, homey.
“So.” Etho started suddenly, Bdubs’ prior story hardly having ended before he spoke up, “When’s the interrogation? You’ve got me on the edge of my seat here,” he said, visibly relaxed as he continued his game, “Still on mermaids, or is it something different? It’s gotta be an event to have invited a partner in crime.”
Grian looked surprised, giving Scar a startled look that made him laugh, “Of course it’s still mermaids, we know, Etho, so it’s best if you admit it now. You’ve got a part time ocean job! That’s where you’re always disappearing to, obviously.”
“I- seriously? Scar, you told me I lack subtly! I didn’t think he knew yet!”
Etho laughed, and Scar did as well, giggling over his mostly eaten sandwich, “I did not say subtly. I said tact. How else am I supposed to get Etho to admit he’s a mermaid if I don’t tell him I think he’s a mermaid?” Scar began eying his glass of water, inching his hand toward it, but faster than a flash, Etho caught his wrist.
“Not again.”
“Not- Scar?” Grian squeaked, Bdubs scoffing in turn.
“Please don’t make another mess, I do not need to ask our neighbors to borrow a mop for the third time this week. If you aren’t going to finish it, water goes in the sink.”
“It was an important experiment!” Scar threw up his hands, Etho’s still attached to his wrist, “The first time could have been a fluke! He’s got to turn into a mermaid somehow!”
“If only it was that easy,” Etho said dryly, and laughed when Grian gaped at him, elbowing Scar, “Your friends are so gullible.”
Scar rolled his eyes. “Okay, in Impulse’s defense, you really played into the abducted by aliens bit- he was concerned! He really thought you were being experimented on!”
“Yeah,” Etho sighed, content, “That was hilarious.” He stopped for a moment, letting go of Scar’s wrist to take the glasses of water to the kitchen island, “This is too dangerous, actually. I will now be removing the temptation.”
“He doesn’t trust me,” Scar side eyed Grian with a small smirk, satisfied when Grian let out an exasperated groan.
“Is this what you’ve been doing all week? Just pouring water on Etho’s head? No wonder he hasn’t admitted anything! Is- do you guys just do this constantly? Make up reasons for his disappearances? No wonder he’s not taking you seriously! Have you even brought up the trail cams yet?”
The entire room froze, like time had completely halted. Bdubs’ eyebrows furrowed, giving Scar a confused look, while Scar put his head in his hands. “..No tact.”
“What?” Grian looked briefly panicked, his voice pitching up an octave, “Did I say something I wasn’t supposed to? What- Scar, why didn’t you tell me? What else haven’t you said?”
Etho hadn’t turned around from his place at the island, just standing there, staring stiff straight ahead. “What cameras, Scar?”
Ah. Yeah. The exact kind of bad tone Scar was really hoping to avoid today and also forever.
“Scar,” Bdubs said darkly, always quick to the defense, “You have not been stalking Etho, have you? You have videos of him?”
“No- It’s not like that, Bdubs, I was watching something else- they’re trail cameras, they’re for animals, the fact that Etho was on them was just chance! I promise I wasn’t deliberately looking out for anyone, it just happened that-“ Scar grit his teeth, struggling to fix this before Bdubs actually caught wind of what was going on, “There’s nothing actually on them. I was hoping to get some cool footage of the deer in the forest preserve by the lake, the one without trails or anything. Just saw Etho through one of them, thought it was an odd coincidence. I know you’re very particular about your privacy, Etho,” Scar shot Grian a sharp look, Grian not getting the message in the slightest and bristling through his panic.
“You didn’t tell me-“
“Sorry.” Scar interrupted him through gritted teeth, “I shouldn’t have shown anyone. Just got excited, I wasn’t thinking. Thought you met one of my friends, that’s all.” If there was any doubt about exactly what Scar and Grian had seen before, now there was none, as obvious as the tenseness in Etho’s back when Scar said the words out loud. Bdubs noticed it too, of course he noticed. Scar just hoped he didn’t pick up on the hurried lie.
“You should go.” Bdubs said, just as tired as he sounded angry, but his voice softened when he turned to Grian, “I’m really sorry. Now’s just a bad time.”
“I understand,” Grian got to his feet, looking relieved for an excuse to run, “I didn’t realize.. I’m sorry. Your apartment is lovely, truly, and lunch was great as well. Thank you.”
“Scar.” Bdubs turned a glare his way, and Scar was up and away in the same moment, passing Grian on his retreat to the door. For a moment, Scar considered taking the elevator, then came to the conclusion that nothing would be worse than getting in a small box with a furious Grian. Unfortunately for him, Grian followed him down the stairs, and not even his own long legs could keep him far enough from his wrath.
“Scar.” Grian’s venom was a quiet hiss, potent enough to knock him over, “What was that? Seriously! What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t said anything! I didn’t realize you were just poking fun all week! I thought you were serious about this!”
“I thought- I thought- I don’t know! I thought we were just going to hang out, have a little fun! I thought you might want to meet Etho and- I don’t know! I didn’t expect you to say anything in front of Bdubs, come on! I didn’t think I had to tell you! I just thought you would know that!”
“You don’t think Bdubs knows?”
“I- Grian, of course he doesn’t know! What gave you any impression he did?”
“You- seriously!? You’ve been telling me all week about this friend that disappears or locks himself in the bathroom for days at a time and you don’t think his roommate who you tell me he’s extremely codependent on has any idea? I don’t believe that at all!”
“Etho is very protective of his privacy, Grian, and Bdubs respects that. I promise you, he doesn’t know. Etho takes his secrets to the grave.”
“I just don’t believe it. I don’t.”
“Come on, Grian!” Scar didn’t mean to shout, but he wasn’t very sorry either. Grian only came down harder on his heels, nearly tripping him down the stairs.
“What? What?” Grian growled, stomping as he went, “This is insane. You’re just expecting me to accept that Bdubs asks zero questions? That Etho just doesn’t eat when he’s locked himself up? You told me Etho can’t drive, so how does he get from place to place when he’s got to go to the water?”
Scar seethed, and it took all of his self control to keep walking. “It’s nice to hear you know more about my friends than I do, Grian. If you must know, it’s been quite a point of contention for them for years! Maybe you have to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong to get information out of your friends, but mine actually like to talk to me, so I’d appreciate it if you believed me when I tell you for certain Bdubs doesn’t know, and even if I didn’t explicitly tell you not to say that shit, maybe it should have been common sense!” Scar stepped hard onto the lobby’s landing, huffing as he strode toward the front entrance, but was stopped short as Grian grabbed the back of his jacket, yanking hard.
“So this is my fault now? Go on, Scar, if you’re thinking it, then say it. Turn around and say it to my face. Say it!”
“What’re you gonna do,” Scar scorned, pushing Grian off his back, “Throw a fit in the lobby? Hit me? You don’t even care about Etho, you’re just interested in what he can give you. People like you are the reason he has to hide.”
“I hope you’re not implying what I think you are, Scar.” Grian’s eyes were dark, but Scar couldn’t have given less of a fuck.
“Come on,” Scar sneered, “Don’t think I didn’t notice. The minute you stopped looking at Mumbo as a way to make a quick buck, you stopped caring altogether. You didn’t even want to see him when he came back! He’s not worth your time anymore. No one’s-” Grian reared back, and Scar didn’t get to finish before Grian nailed him in the jaw, sending him stumbling. And fuck if it didn’t feel good.
Scar saw red, lunging forward and grabbing fistfuls of Grian’s sweater before shoving him to the ground. Grian did not go down easy, kicking forcefully at Scar’s legs, then getting ahold of his shirt and dragging him the rest of the way down with a strength Scar didn’t know he possessed.
“You hurt me!” someone wailed, and after a moment, Scar was pretty sure it was him, only nearly rolling out of the way as Grian threw another punch.
“I want to!” Grian shrieked in return, winding back, but Scar kicked him before he could finish, leaping on top before he could sit up. Grian battered Scar’s stomach with his legs, and Scar found himself wrestling blindly on the floor, clawing at skin and sweaters for any purchase at all. The ding of the elevator stopped both of them in their tracks. Scar was only aware he was on top, only aware his hand was raised when someone grabbed it, yanking him up and right out the two sets of front doors. Scar just let himself be dragged to his feet and away, bodily awareness returning slower than the time it took him to walk an entire block. He only realized Grian was trailing after them two blocks later. Them. Etho, walking so far ahead of him, the two of their arms were taut. He did not speak. He did not look back. Well. Scar was a little too in shock to do either of those things anyway.
Etho brought them to one part of the forest preserve close to their houses, the least populated part, typically known for its unkempt trails and thin walking paths with not much to see, so, perfect for being yelled at probably. Which Etho seemed eager to do, since they didn’t even get five feet onto the trail before Etho turned, still aggressively holding Scar’s hand. The few seconds he waited for Grian to catch up were some of the tensest in Scar’s life.
“It is just my luck,” Etho began, and Scar was pretty sure he’d never been more afraid in his entire life, “That I happen to know the two idiots in the entire country who’ve befriended a fucking mermaid.”
Scar didn’t say a word. Neither did Grian.
“Does anyone else know?”
Scar looked at Grian. Grian looked at Scar.
“No,” Scar said.
Etho sighed raggedly, shoulders falling, “Okay. Okay. I need you to tell me exactly what was on those cameras. And if you haven’t deleted the footage, you will. Actually, I’d like to go to your place and watch you delete it. I need. The peace of mind.”
Scar looked at Grian. Grian looked at Scar.
“Will one of you two just talk to me?”
Scar pursed his lips, looking at Grian. Grian looked right back. Scar glanced guiltily at Etho, then right back to Grian, and Grian looked-
“Scar. Scar. Tell me what you saw.”
“Uh-” Scar startled, finding this a little unfair since he had answered the last question, but Etho was very scary and looking at him expectantly, so there wasn’t much else he could do, “We saw you and Mumbo. The mermaid. And we saw you laying on the beach for a while. And then Mumbo came back, and you didn’t look so good. And there was that other guy-”
“So you saw everything,” Etho cut him off flatly, looking tired. Scar nodded feverishly, and beside him Grian did the same. Etho let go of Scar’s hand, only to put his head in his own. “What are the chances.”
“Do you speak his language? The same language as Mumbo?” Grian piped up, and Scar shot him a startled look, to which Grian glared back, to which Scar glared back, to which-
“Uhm,” Etho sounded confused, removing his hands from his face, “Yes? I imagine we grew up in the same place.. Don’t ask questions about where I’m from. Actually, don’t ask me anything at all. Don’t talk to me.”
But Grian lit up, eyes shining brighter than Scar had ever seen them, “I told you!” he shot back at Scar, who folded his arms, but Grian was not deterred, turning back to a frightened looking Etho, “Will you teach me? I want to learn it, I want to talk to him. I want to know what he’d say to us if he could- so you grew up a mermaid? You learned English! Could you teach him English? I- I mean we’re already teaching him, but it would be so much easier if you could help us!” Grian cut himself off, looking sheepish before continuing, “Is he- do you know if Mumbo’s actually a guy? I mean, I doubt he cares what we call him, but I was just thinking about that the other day, we don’t actually know.”
“I- no? No, no, and no, no, I am not doing any of that. Why do you even-? No. And Mumbo isn’t anything, we don’t do gender, but he did tell us he liked the pronouns you gave him, so hey, there you go.”
“I-I want to thank him! And I want to tell him I’m sorry.”
Etho stared for a moment, stunned, and Scar found himself similarly shocked, giving Grian his own wide eyed stare. “That’s.. Sweet,” Etho finally said, conflict creasing his brow. “Well.. thank you is,” ‘Thank you,’ “and I’m sorry is,” ‘Sorry.’ Etho snapped as he whistled, presumably in intervals where a mermaid would have clicked. “I guess I can send Scar voice memos if you want them, but full offense, I do not want your number.”
“What?? Why not!”
“I think you’re going to be very annoying.”
Scar snorted, and Grian snapped to face him, looking about two seconds away from committing manslaughter, but he seemed to calm himself down enough to speak to Etho again. “Okay. Fine. Then tell me how to say ‘I’m sorry I took advantage of your trust and tried to shoot you in the face.’”
Etho, deadpan, started to translate, but Scar interrupted him with a startled, “You did WHAT?”
“Yeah,” Grian said, the notes in his voice all casual. He looked at his nails, almost bored, “Came out right after he bit you. He had no idea. Wanted to know what it was I was holding.”
“I- I can’t believe you! And you never told me? What else have you done and never said a word about?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Okay, enough of this, I don’t care,” Etho pushed between them in a forceful huff, “Scar, take me to your house. I’ll send you the thing for Grian later, and as an apology for screaming at each other so loud we could hear you on the fourth floor, you’re going to walk me home. And never talk about this ever again.”
“Okay, wait, I don’t actually want to say that to Mumbo-“
“Come on then.” Grabbing at Scar’s hand, Etho started to drag him the other direction, ignoring the offended sound Grian made behind him.
“I’m not just going to go away.” Grian huffed, following at Scar’s heel, “We have to walk the same direction. And I don’t agree to these terms either, I have quite a bit to say to you.”
“Annoying.” Was all Etho had to say to that, and Scar could hear Grian seething behind them. He wasn’t about to push his luck with Etho though and stayed quiet, walking at his side instead of awkwardly behind him. Grian (pointedly, Scar imagined) didn’t even stop when Scar and Etho turned off onto the street that led to Scar’s house, not looking their way or saying goodbye, and most definitely pissed off this didn’t go his way. Scar was glad for it. He was glad to be right. He was glad to feel ugly.
Etho stuttered to a stop when he reached Scar’s desk, and Scar only remembered now that he should probably feel embarrassed about this. Even Grian had been surprised and possibly a little concerned, but sue Scar for caring about his friends! Four cameras displayed on two separate monitors wasn’t even that many. It was like he was the only person on the planet that thought mermaids were cool!
“This is.. Wow, Scar.” If Etho was trying to hide how judgemental he sounded, he was doing a poor job, but then again, it was Etho, so he probably didn’t care to preserve Scar’s feelings. “This is always going?”
“Yeah.” Scar said shortly, sitting down to pull up the footage from the prior week, and aching at the thought of deleting it. And he would, obviously he would for Etho, it was just.. the first videos he had of Mumbo. It didn’t matter how grainy the footage was, it was Mumbo, and he was coming back, coming home to see them. God Scar wanted to see him. But honestly, it would probably be best for Mumbo as well if no photos or videos of him existed anywhere. The last thing Scar wanted was for something awful to happen to him. “Here it is,” Scar leaned back, showing Etho the sped up clip. In the end, it didn’t matter much if Scar deleted it; he’d already watched the whole thing like a hundred times, basically committing it to memory.
“You really did see everything,” Etho breathed, and Scar nodded numbly, chin resting on his hands as he watched. “I gave Mumbo quite the fright. I feel a little bad about it.”
“You should feel bad. He hasn’t come back.” Scar had to fight to keep his voice even, but Etho wasn’t stupid, looking a bit awkward as he shifted his weight.
“Sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t know. I mean, I really didn’t know, obviously, but if it helps you feel any better, I doubt he’ll be gone for long. He really likes you guys, was excited to show you all the stuff he brought up from deeper waters.” Etho paused for a long moment, staring at his hands. Earlier in the week, they had painted each other’s nails, and the paint on Etho’s was already chipping. He always did enjoy peeling it off.
“You could apologize yourself, y’know. Come out and see him, at least once.”
“Ehhh,” Etho shrugged his shoulders close to his body, his frown evident even through the mask, “I don’t know about that, Scar. I doubt he likes me very much anymore anyway. Mermaids can be jumpy things, and he was very kind, but nervous. He didn’t like Joel at all, which is reasonable; there’s not a single person on the planet that likes Joel, and that’s the way he prefers it. I just mean to say he probably associates the two of us now, and even if he liked me before, he probably sees me as a threat now. If you think about it, we kinda came in and trashed his safe place with a bunch of bullshit. He will not be pleased.”
“Joel.. The other guy? Your secret friend?”
Etho snorted, “Friend is a strong word.”
Scar frowned, worry creasing his brow. Etho seemed a little alarmed by the expression, but Scar spoke before he got the chance to backpedal, “Is.. Who is he, then? Is he..” Scar trailed off, searching for the right word. It was a little hard to get over how uncomfortable Etho looked before the change, and even afterwards, Scar couldn’t imagine it being anything less than painful, “hurting you..?” Scar decided on, and Etho looked away, back to the screens.
“It’s complicated. Joel’s a weird guy,” Etho didn’t look very much like he wanted to elaborate, but Scar’s supremely Unsatisfied With That Answer face seemed to convince him, “Joel is.. I don’t know. He lives on a small island off the coast, concealed from most human sights; maps, satellites, and such. I believe he was cursed, or maybe banished there at some point- even knowing him for so long, most of the details are unclear. I don’t even know if he was ever born, or just- made by someone else, messing with forces they definitely shouldn’t. All this to say, I don't think he has parents, and it's quite up in the air about whether or not he has a conscience either. He doesn’t really see the world or the people in it as anything beyond how it can entertain or benefit him. So when I ended up washing up at his shores, he thought he might be able to use me to escape. Get off the island, you know? He was half right.”
“Do I need to beat the piss out of this guy?”
“No,” Etho said, all too simply, “He’d probably just wipe you off the face of the Earth, literally. I don’t know exactly what he is, but he’s got some sort of power over the island. You’ll never see it, he would never let you, but the place he’s made for himself is beautiful. He doesn’t do much else besides terraform it and watch unsuspecting ships crash into it and laugh at them; really, he’s not a pleasant guy. Extremely arguably not human, either. I don’t know much about it, I’ve never gotten to meet his.. relatives. Heavy quotes there. Doubt they’d be very pleased that the embodiment of pure evil they created found a way to leave the little island prison he is confined to.”
Scar stared, pretending to understand any of that made any sense. “This all makes perfect sense to me.”
Etho scoffed a small laugh, “Welcome to the club. Imagine that’s your only exposure to ‘humanity’ for two years, and then you finally get out into the real world and realize that actually magic doesn’t exist anywhere and that guy that peeled you off the rocks was an outlier. Anyway, it was pretty cool to figure out people were nice. But yeah, basically, my understanding of what he did to me was split our souls? We share them, kind of, which means a whole lot of bullshit, but mainly it means that he doesn’t start melting every time he sets foot off the island. He doesn’t melt at all as a mermaid, though he’s just about as reclusive as it gets, so he hangs around anyway, terraforming the underwater bits of his island. Apparently there’s a lot of safeguards meant to keep him trapped there, but they don’t account for species changes. And no, I don’t know why I don’t melt. He thought I would for ages, but apparently spellwork attaches to people specifically, and doesn’t transfer over soulbounds? I don’t know.”
“You’re losing me here, Etho.”
“Yeah. That's about 80% of the reason I didn’t tell Mumbo anything. Because then he’d ask questions, and I’d just have to shrug my shoulders and say I don’t know, because literally, I do not know. I’ve just started accepting these things as they happen to me. It really doesn’t help that Joel is a compulsive liar. But I guess to kind of answer your question, no, this was not voluntary, and I have very little control over whether I’m human or not. Joel has too much power over me for me to call him a friend, but as a placeholder, it works. I wouldn’t go back though, if you were wondering. To being a mermaid. I’m happy, much happier than I was in the ocean; I just couldn’t quite find my place. And you guys have computers, seriously, that shit is awesome.” Scar thought he saw a ghost of a smile under Etho’s mask, but it quickly vanished, “Of course, my life is now in serious jeopardy, but if all else fails, I guess I’ll just go back to the island and live there full time again.” Etho shrugged, and Scar frowned, fidgeting.
“We aren’t going to tell anyone, Etho. I can promise you that, really. Neither of us have said a word about Mumbo- we both know what could happen. I don’t want either of you to be killed or sold off somewhere or anything, especially not you, god.” Scar paused, closing his eyes and bracing himself, “And I.. I really think you should tell Bdubs.”
“No.”
“Come on, Etho, just listen-”
“No. And that’s the end of it. I don’t care who it is or how much I trust them or even the extent they would go to keep this secret a secret, I will not take any risks. And Bdubs respects that, he respects that some things I’d rather keep to myself, so it’s none of your business whether I tell him anything at all. You don’t get a say, not when your life isn’t on the line. I have very little control over my life, Scar, and now there’s two more people out there that have more power over me than I do. So if you really love me, you won’t say a word about this ever again.”
“I-” Scar looked helplessly at his hands, unable to look Etho’s intensity in the eyes. “Okay. I’m sorry. I won’t ask again.”
Etho’s shoulders relaxed substantially, and he closed his eyes for a long while, silence slowly chipping away at the tension. Scar didn’t dare break it. Eventually, Etho did so himself, “And Joel’s alright. He’s not alright for you or anyone else, but he’s alright for me. I like him. He really likes me; a bit clingy, honestly. He doesn’t really.. he doesn’t know how to respect me as a person, but he’s trying. It’s easy enough to ignore. We get along, so it's nothing for you to worry about. But if it’s okay, that’s all I really want to talk about him right now.” Etho quieted, and Scar nodded, not entirely knowing what to do with this.
“I’m sorry,” he said instead, “I’m sorry this happened to you. And I.. I mean, I don’t understand it all, but I hope you’ll find a bit more power over your own life.”
Etho nodded, but in acknowledgment rather than agreement, “I won’t.”
There was nothing else to say. Scar deleted the footage without another word, showing Etho in every way he could manage that it was gone, not because the other asked, but because he wanted to. He wanted Etho to feel safe. Though, no matter how long Scar scoured his face, it was impossible to tell.
“Alright,” Etho stood a little straighter after it was done, “I’m going to head out now. I know I asked you to walk me back, but I actually think I’d rather be alone right now. Thank you, Scar.”
Scar blinked, surprised, “Are you sure? Bdubs wouldn’t mind driving over if you wanted him to. He’s probably worried, you know how he gets.”
“I want to be alone right now.”
And that was that.
The front door clicked shut as Etho exited, not even wanting to be walked to the door, and Scar was left to lay in bed and sit on everything he had learned. None of it made any more sense with the passing of time, and Scar felt so overloaded with information, he was finding it easier just to accept it all without question. My friend was a mermaid. Still is, but part time. He’s got some sort of magic bond with some freak that treats him poorly, but apparently they hang out just fine. Friend might be a demon. Those might as well be real. Magic is real. Kind of. Scar wasn’t sure if that one would process in his brain anytime soon. And how did this damn island work? If people disappeared on it, surely someone would notice eventually. Surely the government knew, or something. Maybe the government already knew magic existed. They must, right?
It kind of sounded like Joel killed people. Was anyone going to do anything about that? Damn, if Etho ever decided to talk about any of this stuff, that would be the craziest rage room session of all time. He wouldn’t, though. A shame.
At this point, Scar kind of felt like his brain was going to explode, so he simply stopped thinking about it. Unsuccessfully. Then he laughed out loud when he imagined trying to explain everything Etho had told him to Grian. Grian the control freak, who needed to know every detail in order to be satisfied, who would needle you for hours if that’s how long it took him to get the facts straight. Grian was a pretty good mediator among their many interconnected friend groups for that reason; he came with his own biases of course, but when it came down to it, he just wanted to get the whole story, and that was useful for working out miscommunications.
Grian. Nothing about him was satisfying. God, Scar was angry, he was so angry, and that felt bad, but so much better than being sad and awkward all the time, and suddenly Scar wanted nothing more than to be back on the dingy carpet of the apartment lobby, hissing and grunting and beating the piss out of each other; finish what they started. But he couldn’t exactly do that, so he took a shower about it instead, head resting idly against the tile as the water ran down his back. About an hour of that passed before he got bored of it, so he got out, not even remembering if he washed his hair, and collapsed once more onto his bed. The thought still hadn’t left his head. He eyed his phone dangerously.
Etho had sent him a text telling him he got home safe, no doubt sent after Bdubs pestered him to do so. Pearl had asked something about needing to buy some more supplies for the sanitation department at the zoo, which Scar okayed without even looking at the list. He opened Grian’s messages.
‘Are you sober?’ Scar watched the screen idly, eyes half lidded, but perked up a bit when Grian answered quickly.
‘yes? it’s 3:00 Scar’
‘why.’
Scar typed and deleted the message for five whole minutes, struggling to put his thoughts to words. Well. At this point, there was no sugarcoating this.
‘I want to fight. And then get very drunk. And then maybe fight again. And then throw up probably’
‘We didn’t get to finish’
‘would feel irresponsible asking if you were not sober’
‘how sweet’
‘I’ll be right over. I want to trash your house’
‘I did not invite you.’
Grian did not respond. Scar didn’t need to wait more than a minute before knowing he wasn’t going to. Fine then. Good to know he wasn’t the only person here that was fucked in the head.
And ten minutes later, Grian was knocking at his door. Knocking continuously, obnoxiously, until he seemed to remember Scar had a doorbell, and then he focused most of his energy on ringing that a thousand and one times. By the time Scar made it to the door, Grian had evolved his strategy to do both at the same time. Scar flung the door open to a smug looking Grian, and promptly slammed it in his face the moment he moved to step inside. The muffled yelp through the wall was deeply satisfying, and when Scar reopened the door, Grian was cradling his nose. Scar couldn’t help but crack a smirk.
“Not so smug now, are you?”
Grian opened his mouth to speak, once again moving to step forward, but Scar slammed the door closed again, pushing with his whole body in the case Grian tried to stop it with his hand, then cackled when Grian yelped a second time, his shoes scuffing on the pavement outside.
“You are SO childish!”
“And you’re a damn bore.” Scar began to open the door once more, but was surprised when Grian burst through it, grabbing Scar by the collar and yanking him down so hard their heads collided, both of them reeling, but Grian not letting go. The silence was long as they both recovered, heads still close enough that Scar could smell Grian’s ragged breaths.
“You.” Grian pushed out through gritted teeth, “Smell nice.”
Ah! So he must have washed his hair after all. “Just showered,” Scar said simply, and Grian sniggered, glaring through narrowed eyes.
“For me?”
“Not quite. Just had to after touching you, makes me feel dirty. Doesn’t matter how often you shower, you’ll never stop smelling like fish-“ Scar didn’t quite get to finish, Grian slamming him against the wall opposite of the front door, which, by the way, was still wide open.
“I wonder how long it’ll take you to start smelling like manure again. Guess we’ll find out when you start to sweat.”
“I suppose we will. Mind closing the door?”
“What, afraid someone’ll see you getting your teeth kicked in?”
“Yes, actually, I’d rather not have the police called on us, thank you very much.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Fuck off.” Scar shoved hard, and Grian stumbled back against the amour by the door, knocking the keybowl clattering to the floor. Scar shut the door, eying Grian smugly, “Did you really think I wasn’t letting you hold me? Come on G, you’re not that strong.”
Grian huffed, lunging for his arms instead of answering, and the next few moments were spent fighting over wrists, grabbing and pulling and yanking for any kind of control. Scar hit another wall, just barely tackling Grian under a punch. But Scar couldn’t quite drag him to the ground like he so desperately wanted, and fell hard as Grian kneed his stomach, stealing his air. Scar did end up getting his wish of taking this to the floor, but instead with Grian’s hands like vices around his wrists and the wind knocked out of him. Not.. ideal.
“One minute,” he wheezed, and Grian snickered, digging his nails around Scar’s wrists.
“Did someone get more than he bargained for?” Grian cooed, “You’d look so pretty with a black eye, don’t you think?” Grian raised his fist, but Scar just barely caught it before it could collide with his face, his own hand still smashing painfully against his nose.
“Aren’t you just a little flirt today?” Scar sneered, yanking Grian’s arm down and throwing the rest of him off balance, then kicking him into the opposite wall.
“No,” Grian grunted, gritting his teeth as Scar shoved him up by his arms, shoulders battering the wall, “I just tell it like it is. Whether or not you think it’s flirting is a you problem.”
“Alright,” Scar huffed, shaking out his hair. He lifted Grian off the wall and slammed him back against it, pinning him harshly against his chest, “Then I think you look quite nice yourself, hunched over and panting like a dog.” Scar narrowed his eyes, dark. “Just telling it like it is.”
Grian kissed him. It wasn’t nice, nor was it pretty, and Scar was too startled to even move against it, only jerking back after another moment.
“What the fuck was that?” Scar spat, new anger coiling in his gut, but Grian didn’t flinch, eyes narrow and even.
“Whatever you want it to be, I suppose.”
Well.
Scar had known the answer to that question for a while, hadn’t he? Grian’s lips were chapped, unpleasant to the touch, as he was sure his own were as well. But it wasn’t much of a problem, not as tongues collided, as Scar remembered every unpleasant sensation of making out with someone, still intoxicating all the same. Sick. They were both sick in the head, weren’t they? Scar was dizzy with it- actually, on second thought..
“Grian,” Scar breathed, forehead resting on Grian’s own, “We should probably.. get checked out by a doctor.. or something.”
“What?” Grian laughed, a breathy thing with little sound, “Like, for mental illnesses?”
“No, for concussions. But. Also that, probably,” Scar joined him in laughing despite himself, breathing heavily against Grian’s chest, and eugh, yeah no, he was definitely still dizzy, but at the same time..
“Maybe,” Grian’s lips grazed Scar’s cheek, settling around his jaw, still tender from when Grian had punched him. The bruise was dark the last time Scar had checked. “But I believe you promised me we’d get ‘very drunk’ earlier, and I haven’t forgotten. Where else have you bruised I wonder,” Grian mumbled, pressing a kiss to the tender skin. Scar whined, looking away, and Grian giggled, pressing light kisses to his throat instead.
“That’s.. dangerous.”
“You think I’m dangerous, Scar?” Grian pushed impossibly close, and despite being the one on top, Scar felt as trapped as if he’d been pinned.
“Well, yes,” he admitted, suddenly feeling a bit shy, moreso when Grian giggled against his neck, “I was still talking about the concussions though. And drinking. Y’know.”
“Hm,” Grian considered him thoughtfully, though it was a bit distracting to feel the vibrations against his skin, “You make a good point.” Grian paused, lips gliding to the corner of Scar’s own, “Then whatever you decide, I’ll follow. Personally, I’d love to wake up tomorrow regretting today.” Grian’s fingers trailed up Scar’s side, thumb brushing below his shirt and making him shiver.
“Likewise,” Scar murmured, letting Grian trail soft kisses across his jaw, “Well.. Let’s see where this goes, hm?” With the way Grian was looking at him, Scar was starting to get a pretty good idea of exactly where this was going, and he didn’t have a single complaint. “Yeah,” he sighed, closing his eyes, “Let’s make a mess.”
pinglist (just ask if you’d like to be added): @dakotas-hermitblr-pogg
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loving-barnes · 2 days
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LOGAN HOWLETT - BROKEN & MENDED
A/N: A new one-shot that I tried to write. It's okay, I guess. So here you go. Also, the title sucks, but... whatever.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
Featuring: Avengers, Ex!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warning: angst, fluff, implied smut?
Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story has sexual scenes.
Words: 3400+
Important note: I know Wolverine is like 160cm but… I forgot about tha that so, he’s a tall MF. (They kinda fucked that up in some of the movies, so whatever.) So Hugh Jackman!Wolverine
FULL MASTERLIST
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LOGAN HOWLETT - BROKEN & MENDED
It felt like a dagger went through her heart. Her eyes watched her boyfriend and her best friend kissing in the kitchen. They didn’t know Y/N was there. It seemed that they didn’t care someone would be able to see them. She watched it all with her two eyes. The two people she trusted the most in the entire world broke her heart. How long was this happening? Why was this happening?
The vomit threatened to escape her throat. She was sick to her stomach from the betrayal. Shaking her head, Y/N silently walked away from the scene, heading back to the room she shared with Bucky. 
When her eyes landed on the messy bed, she shared with him daily, her stomach flipped. She felt nauseous like never before. How often did he bring Natasha to bed while she was away on a mission? Her feet dragged her to the bathroom, where she ended up vomiting into the toilet. 
Y/N stayed on the bathroom floor for another hour, thinking about her next steps. There was no point in crying over spilt milk. Bucky had decided to find peace in other girl’s arms. He had decided to break Y/N’s heart. 
Sighing, she slowly got up, washed her face and rinsed her mouth. And then it hit her. How many people knew about this affair? Of course, Steve knew. He had to. He was Bucky’s best friend. Hell, even Sam had to know something. 
She fished out a phone from her jeans and texted Tony. He, of all people, would be able to understand her. Once he agreed to see her, she washed her mouth one more time and left for the lab. As expected, Tony was tinkering on one of his suits. There was a big cup of cold coffee on the table that he didn’t drink.
“What’s up, Y/L/N,” Tony asked when he noticed Y/N in the lab. He immediately noticed her body language. Something was off. “What’s going on?” 
She sat in an office chair, eyes scanning all the tools scattered around the place. “I need you to do something for me - no questions asked.” 
His eyes captured hers, frowning. “Oh no, you can’t pull that card on me. What’s going on? What happened?” 
No wonder Y/N wanted a ‘no questions asked’. A few months ago, Tony called Y/N to get him from a club. He was drunk, covered in vomit and upset about something. Y/N didn’t question it. She drove him to the tower, got him to bed, and they never spoke about it again. 
Y/N took a deep breath, her lips quivering. She wanted to scream, cry and throw a tantrum like a child. Her heart was breaking some more. “I’m resigning.”
“What?!” Tony jumped on his feet. That statement woke him up. “What do you mean, Y/N? Does Barnes know about that? Are you two planning something? Are you pregnant?” 
She shook her head. Damn, that last question got her even more. When did she start to feel the want to have kids with him? “He doesn’t know anything. I need you to accept my resignation and let me silently leave as soon as possible,” she said. “Please.”
Tony wasn’t a fool. He could see the pain in her eyes, how her lips trembled and how she tried to hold it together. Tony was able to put two and two together. Something happened between them - it was over. “Shit,” he shook his head in disbelief. “Holy shit.” 
“Please, Tony,” she raised a hand into the air. “I have to do this. If he can’t come clean, I can leave without a word. Two can play this game.” 
“But,” he closed the distance and put his hands on the woman’s shoulders. “You can’t leave the Avengers. You are like the little sister I never had. I can kick Barnes’s ass again if you’d like. Say the word and I will detach that damn arm from him.” 
Y/N chuckled. It was hard to hold it together and not cry in front of Tony. “We can stay in touch, Stark. Please, don’t make me stay. My heart is broken, shattered into a million pieces. I won’t be able to look them in the eyes-”
“Them?” he interrupted her. “Who’s the woman?” 
A tear finally escaped Y/N’s eye. “Natasha,” she whispered. 
Tony’s fists clenched. He wanted to curse out loud and throw something into a wall. “I’m sorry,” was all he said to her. “I’m sorry things went to shit like this. Holy fuck, Natasha and Barnes? What the fuck?” 
As the dam broke, Tony caught her in his tight embrace and let Y/N cry it out. He wouldn’t do it for anyone but her. As Tony said, Y/N was like his little sister whom he needed to protect. He pushed her away a little to look into her eyes. The pain in them was breaking Tony’s heart.
“Is there anything you need to take?” he asked. “Any photos or personal belongings?”
Y/N thought about it. All the photos she had were with Bucky, Natasha or the team. She didn’t have any family outside the Avengers. Everything she owned had been provided for her. 
“No,” she said. 
Tony sighed, nodding. “Alright.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and took out a wallet. He gave her a black card. “Take it.”
“What? Tony, no, I can’t,” she shook her head. 
“Shut up, Y/N,” he frowned at her. “Take the damn card. I have twenty more. Get yourself a hotel, buy new clothes or a car - whatever the fuck you want. Text me from a new number once you settled down. I want to stay in contact with you even when you are on the other side of the world.” 
“Oh, Tony.” 
“I’ll let you know how the pandemonium went once they realise you are gone,” he chuckled at that thought. “Are you sure about this, Y/N?” he had to ask.
“I don’t owe Bucky anything - not even a stupid explanation. He decided to cheat behind my back with my best friend. God knows how long this has been going on for. I wouldn’t be surprised if Steve and Sam knew about this. I don’t trust any of them anymore, Tony. I was hurt many times before. This is a new level of pain I’ve never felt before. I thought he was it, you know? And look how it ended.” 
“I want to say I understand. However, I don’t,” said Tony. “I’ll miss you, kid.” 
. . .
Bucky had a phone pressed to his ear. He was walking around the lounge room like a lion in a cage. He cursed under his nose and redialed Y/N’s number. Steve, Sam and Tony walked into the lounge room, chatting. “Has anyone seen Y/N?” Bucky asked them. “I can’t get hold of her.” 
“Have you checked your room?” Sam asked and sat on the couch. He put his feet up on the coffee table. “Or she’s with Natasha.” 
“I’ve asked Nat. She hasn’t seen her the whole day,” said Bucky, frowning. He tried to call her again. “She’s not responding to texts. Where the hell is she? Did she go on a solo mission?” 
“I don’t know anything about it,” Steve shrugged.
Tony crossed arms over his chest. “She left,” he announced. 
All eyes turned to him. “What?” Steve asked. “What do you mean by that? Did Fury give her a solo mission?” 
“She left,” Tony repeated sternly. Bucky approached the man, confused. “Barnes, come on, let’s not play this game. You think the woman wouldn’t notice?” 
“What the fuck are you talking about, Stark?” Bucky spat. “Fuck, Stark, talk. Where the hell is Y/N?”
“Y/N found out about you and Natasha.” Tony’s fists clenched. He wanted to punch Barnes into his face. “How the fuck could you do that to her, Barnes? You didn’t have the balls to tell her the truth, to talk to her. And now, because you betrayed her, she left the tower - the team.” 
Steve turned to Bucky, shocked by that revelation. “You and Natasha?” he gasped. “When?” 
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know, Rogers,” Tony scoffed.
“Shit,” Sam commented. “What the fuck, dude?”
Bucky didn’t know what to say first. “When she’ll be back?” 
Tony had to laugh. “You think she’s coming back? Come on, Barnes. You broke her heart. You cheated on her with her best friend. She’s never coming back. She left because of you. Also,” he turned to the Captain and the Falcon. “She thinks you two know about the affair.” 
Sam jumped up on his feet, visibly pissed. “Whoa,” he glared at Barnes. “I don’t know anything about Barnes fucking Romanoff. What the fuck, Bucky? How could you do that to the best woman you could have ever had?” 
“Sam, it’s not that simple-”
“The fuck it is,” Sam yelled at him. “I can’t believe you did that,” he said. “I’m so angry at you.”
“Sam. I… It’s…”
“Go fuck yourself, Barnes,” he punched Bucky into his shoulder and left the lounge room. 
Bucky sighed, defeated. When he looked up at Steve, he could see the disappointment in his eyes. 
Tony had to chuckle. “This is what happens when you think with your dick and not with your head and heart. This is your own doing.”  
. . .
A FEW YEARS LATER
It was a big day. Tony Stark threw a massive engagement party for him and Pepper. He finally had the guts to ask the woman of his dreams to marry her. 
He invited over a hundred people. He wanted to celebrate his beautiful fianceé, their love and happiness. Or in other words, another reason why to throw a party. Also, this was the perfect opportunity to see Y/N again. 
It was almost two years since she left the team. No one knew anything about her except Tony and Pepper. They kept in touch with her the whole time. The couple knew about her new life, new role and more importantly new love. And now, they invited her to celebrate their engagement. Her new man was also invited.
It was supposed to be a big dinner with music and drinks. Everyone was there - the whole Avengers team, some SHIELD agents and even politicians who had a good relationship with the happy couple. And yet, Tony waited for his favourite person to arrive. 
He was standing by the bar, nursing a drink. Tony’s eyes wandered around the place, trying to glimpse Y/N in the crowd. The dinner was about to start, and she still wasn’t there. A hand appeared on his shoulder, striking it lovingly. “Don’t worry. She’ll be here soon,” Pepper said to his ear. “She promised to come.”
He was ready to comment on it when his eyes noticed Y/N walk through the entrance, all dressed up and with a smile plastered over her face. A tall, muscular man stood behind her, helping her with her coat. Tony smiled, glad that Y/N had arrived with her new boyfriend. Tony liked that guy a lot. Same humour, both liked the taste of whisky and they dated amazing women. 
“See, she’s here,” said Pepper with a smile. She raised a hand, waving to the couple. 
“Are you sure about this?” Y/N heard her boyfriend’s voice close to her ear. “You don’t have to do anythin’ that makes you uncomfortable, baby.” 
She turned to him, fixing his black suit. The way Logan was staring at her made her knees weak. His eyes were hungry, she was sure of it. When he saw the dress on her, he had to hold himself back. “I know, Lo’. I’m happy you’ve decided to come with me and be my plus one. Tony likes you a lot, to be honest,” she giggled. “Also, I’m done with my past and am focused on my present, with you.” 
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Come on, Y/N. Your friends are waiting. Nervous?” 
“A little bit,” she had to admit. 
Logan held her hand proudly. He tried to intimidate people with his glare. Y/N was surprised when she found him dressed in a fancy suit. Yes, it was all black - like he wanted. But damn, he looked sexy. 
Together, they walked to Tony and Pepper, greeting them. Y/N hugged them both, while Logan shook hands with Tony and nodded towards Pepper. 
“Congratulations, you two,” Y/N said with a smile. “You are finally doing it. I’m so proud of you, Tony. You are growing up,” she teased him. 
“How are you holding up?” Pepper asked gently. “How are the kids?” her eyes moved to Logan. 
“It’s not easy to teach young mutants,” Logan replied. “They can be a handful, ya know? But they love Y/N.” 
Y/N wrapped an arm around Logan’s waist, smiling. “They like all of us. All of them are grateful to have a place to live and feel safe. And, to answer your question, I’m doing good. Am I nervous? Yes. Am I happy? Also yes.” 
“I can’t believe you became a teacher in a mutant school,” Tony shook his head in disbelief. “Is it cool that you two are together?” he pointed between the couple. “Isn’t there any strict policy that you cannot date an old man?” he joked. 
Logan glared at him. “Hilarious, Stark.” 
“Come on, Wolverine. I am just messing around. But seriously, no policy?” 
Y/N rolled her eyes. “No, nothing like that. Thank god.”
“Last time, it bit you in the ass,” Tony glared at Y/N. 
She sighed. “I know, but why make these policies? I know in the end it can hurt the team, but… “ she shook her head, not finishing. 
“Out of curiosity, what would you do if you weren’t allowed to date?” Pepper asked. 
Logan and Y/N looked at each other. There was a brief silence. “I’d take her to Canada,” he said after some thinking. “We’d buy ourselves a place, somewhere in the mountains.” He could see how her eyes lit up when he mentioned living far away. “Unfortunately, we had decided to stay and teach young mutants. Who knows what will bring us the future.” 
Y/N wanted to press a kiss to his lips. But she knew Logan wasn’t fond of PDA. Her mouth opened to tell him how much she loved him. 
“Y/N?” 
Y/N took a deep breath through her nose. Slowly, she turned to the voice, finding Steve standing behind the couple, surprised to see her. “Hi,” she said cheerfully. 
“Wow, you look amazing. I’m glad to see you again,” he nodded, smiling. His eyes moved to the man beside her. Steve observed him - he was tall muscular and a bit scary. He stretched his arm. “I’m Steve Rogers,” he introduced himself. 
Logan grabbed his hand, shaking it. “Logan,” he said firmly.
When their hands disconnected, both men turned their eyes on Y/N. “I see you are doing well,” Steve said to Y/N. “It’s been… what, two years?” 
���Something like that,” she shrugged. Her eyes moved to Logan. “I’ll quickly go to the bathroom before dinner. I’ll be right back.” Instantly, Logan leaned in and he pressed a kiss to her cheek. Y/N couldn’t believe her boyfriend was affectionate in public. They would leave the PDA behind closed doors. It was sweet.
Y/N walked through the crowd of people, heading to the ladies' room. No one paid her any attention. She registered some celebrities and politicians. Everyone was here for Tonny and Pepper. Y/N opened the door, walked in with a gentle smile and was met with Natasha. The smile was instantly gone. The woman was staring at her reflection in the mirror, fixing her make-up when her eyes landed on Y/N.
Y/N’s eyes widened. Her breath got stuck. As much as she told herself she was ready for this, she wasn’t. “Hi,” she said neutrally and quickly locked herself inside a toilet room. 
She heard the entrance door open and closed a few times. Y/N hoped Natasha left. Unfortunately, after she was done and left the toilet, Natasha was leaning against the counter, waiting. 
“Hi,” Natasha greeted her, whispering. Her eyes followed Y/N’s every moment. “H-how have you been?” 
Y/N sighed. She started to wash her hands. “Do we have to talk?” she asked emotionless. 
“Yes, we do. I haven’t seen you in two years. I missed you,” said Natasha. 
“You are kidding, right?” Y/N glared at her through the mirror. “How can you say this after what happened? How can you stand there and say those words when you had a thing with my then-boyfriend?” She turned off the water and wiped her hands with paper towels. “I promised myself I would enjoy this evening, celebrate Tony’s engagement and then leave. I guess things never turn out how we want.” 
After she was done, Y/N left the bathroom. She was visibly upset. All she wanted was to hide in Logan’s arms, have a meal and leave. How could she believe she’d be able to come here? Why was she still this hurt when she had a wonderful man by her side? Did she…? No. The only thing left was the hurt. Her heart belonged to Logan now. She loved him more than she ever loved anyone. 
“Y/N,” Natasha followed her out. “Please, let’s talk. You need to listen to me.” 
“I don’t have to do shit, Romanoff.” Fate wasn’t kind to Y/N. When she walked outside, she was met with the one person she hoped to avoid the most. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” she cursed. 
Bucky stood before her in a tux. His hair was short, face shaved and smooth. Those blue eyes were wide open as he stared at his ex-girlfriend all dressed up. “Oh my god,” he gasped. “Y/N, you are here.” 
“Obviously,” she sighed. “I am Tony’s good friend,” she said. She wanted to walk away from the. Unfortunately, he gently grabbed her by her forearm, stopping her. “Let me go, Barnes.” 
“Please, we need to talk. Only for a minute.” 
Y/N yanked her arm out of his grip. “There is nothing to talk about. I don’t want to talk to any of you,” her eyes went from him to Natasha and back. 
“Yes, there is,” he frowned. “You left without a word.” 
She frowned at him. “So? You slept with my best friend behind my back. You cheated on me and didn’t have the balls to be honest with me.” Y/N fixed her dress and straightened her back. “I found you two making out in the damn kitchen. So, no, there is nothing to talk about. I came here to celebrate Tony and Pepper.” 
Natasha sighed, upset about it all. Bucky shook his head. “You left, Y/N. For fuck’s sake you left without a word,” he raised his voice. 
“That’s all you care about?” she asked. “Barnes, you broke my heart. Do you think I’d stay here after what happened? Do you think I’d be happy to see you two together? Wake up. Both of you.” Y/N turned to Natasha, to see her upset face. 
A hand appeared on her shoulder, stroking it gently. Y/N released a deep breath she didn’t know she was holding and calmed down. She smelled Logan’s cologne he used for tonight. “You okay, baby?” he asked, eyes shooting daggers at the supersoldier and the spy. 
Y/N strengthened her back. “Logan, meet James Barnes and Natasha Romanoff,” she introduced them. She didn’t need to define who they were and what they did to her. Logan already knew. “They don’t seem to understand that I don’t want to talk to them.” 
Logan chuckled. “He seems like a guy who doesn’t understand a lot of things,” his eyes darkened. He was not fond of the man standing before him. 
“Excuse me?” Bucky frowned. 
“Oh, get a life, bub,” Logan scoffed. “The lady said she doesn’t want to talk to ya. So I suggest you leave her the fuck alone.” 
With that, Logan grabbed her hand and walked with her away from the pair. He pulled her hand to his lips, kissing its top. “You okay, sweetheart?” 
She nodded. “You know what? Let’s have some food, you know, do a little damage and then leave. I want to be alone with you tonight, sir. We have a hotel room that Tony provided us,” she winked at him. 
“That dress needs to go as soon as possible,” Logan purred to her ear. “One hour and then we are gone, princess.” 
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strwbrrygrden · 20 hours
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Summary : A relaxing day at the spa
Pairing : Seunghan x female reader
Warning : oral (both receiving), name calling
The smell of lavender and vanilla make you feel relax as you enter a new spa that opened a few months ago- it been a while since you been to a spa since you work in the office all day/night and never have a day off. “Good afternoon” the receptionist spoken, “good afternoon” you say with a soft smile, “how can I help you today?” she asks, “I booked an appointment for today, my name is Y/N” you tell her, she nod her head as she looks at the computer screen “The two hour massage session is one of our most popular, I hope you enjoy it.” She says as she place a piece of paper on the counter “please read this over before I walk you to the room” she says, you look at the paper and grab the pen from the tiny pencil case writing your signature agreeing with everything that is written on the piece of paper. She place the paper aside and starts walking you over to one of the empty rooms that was close to the end, “The masseur is on the lunch break right now so it will take a while but until then you can place your stuff down, take off your clothes and wrap this towel around you, and lay down and relax yourself” she says, you nod your head as you enter the room- you both smile softly at each other before she close the door and walks away, you place your stuff on the empty bed before undressing yourself and wrapping the towel around your body, “wow.. comfy and soft, I like that” you tell yourself as you lay on the bed,staring up at the ceiling as you’re enjoying the soft piano music playing through the speakers, and waits for the masseur to enter the room.
“I am so sorry for making you wait for a long time, I just finish my lunch” a male says as he enters the room, you look over at the doorway seeing a very tall and attractive male “It is fine. I didn’t mind waiting, I could’ve fall asleep if you didn’t enter” you tell him, he chuckles and locks the door “I’m Seunghan, your masseur for the next two hours” he introduces, “It’s nice to meet you, my name is Y/N” you told him, “it’s nice to meet you too, dear” he replies as he push a cart that is fill with essentials near the edge of the bed you’re lying on. He looks through the cart and grabs a bottle of body oil and a bottle of lotion to use later, “So, tell me about yourself love” he says, “what do you want to know about me” you asks, “It’s up to you what you want to tell me, I do not want you to be uncomfortable” he reveals, you stare at him and softly smile “Wow.. Seunghan, you are such a gentleman” you teases, he chuckles at your words as he squeeze some body oil onto your neck and shoulders area massaging them gently “You’re tensed up here, do you work a lot?” he asks, “Yeah, I do” you tell him, he squeeze some lotion on his hands and start to gently press and massage more of that area “Your hands are amazing, I feel more relax then when I enter here” you praise him, “Thank you, I hope you enjoy my service then” he replies as he continues massaging you.
“Can you sit up for me, love” he says, you did as he said and sit up on the bed- he sits behind you and pulls the towel down letting it go to your waist, “are you okay? Don’t be shy about showing your body, your body is gorgeous” he says, you blush at his words “Wow.. you must praise your lover a lot” you said, “I don’t have a lover. Since we’re speaking about that topic, your lover must be lucky too- I mean look at you, so gorgeous inside and out, very funny and have a cute laugh” he replies, “No one likes someone who works a lot, I don’t have a lover” you mention. He hums along to the soft piano music playing through the speakers as he squeezes some of the body oil onto your breasts and massages each of them, you lean back on his shoulder and closes your eyes. “I want her so bad.. no I need her” he thought to himself, biting the inside of his cheeks before cupping and squeezing your breasts forgetting about the massage. “Seu-seunghan” you moans as he pinch your nipples slightly, “Yeah?” He asks, “play with them please” you said, “You’re so perfect, Y/N. So fucking perfect” he spoken as he plays with your breasts “Lay down for me” he demanded, you did as he said and lay on the bed- he hover over you and suck on your nipples as he look at you, “So good.. so good” you whispers looking at the ceiling as he kiss and suck on your left breasts and massages the other. “So fucking hot..” he whispers biting your nipples “I need you” you whimpers, “you have me, y/n” he spoken
You’re lying at the edge of the bed, with your legs spread apart, while he’s taking off his pants and boxers. He goes over to you and starts to slowly and teasingly rub the tip on your clit causing you to whimpers “Someone is eager” he says, rubbing the tip against your clit a few more times before slowly inserting his cock in you- the two of you moan because of the pleasure, he begins to thrust slowly and holds your hands tight “Gonna make you feel so good” he reveals as he holds your waist a bit and thrust faster and deeper. “O-oh.. fuck, Seung-Seunghan right there” you moans as he thrust at that spot, he smirks a bit and start to hit that spot repeatedly making you be a moaning mess “You’re so tight” he groan and holds your legs as he continues to thrust “So fucking tight, feel so good around my cock” he moans- all you could do is moan in response, there was no way you could said a word. “You’re such a slut, Y/N.. clenching so much because of my words” he whispers, you whimper in response as he start fucking you senselessly.
“G-gonna cum..” you cried as you grip on the edge of the bed tightly “Cum, baby.” he says, thrusting for a couple of more times until his cock twitch in you- he holds your hand tight as the two of you moan loudly and cums at the same time. You whimper as he fill you up with his cum, “Such a pretty slut, fill up with my cum” he says to you as he slowly pulls out and rubs the tip against your clit teasingly “Go on the floor for me” he says, you slowly kneel on the floor in front of him and stares up at him as he rubs the tip against your lips “lick it” he say, you lick the cum off your lips and wraps your hands around his cock stroking it from the tip to the base. “Such a good girl, suck my cock like the slut you are” he says before he grips your hair and start thrusting in and out of your mouth- you gag against his cock as the tip hit the back of your throat. After a while of him doing that, you felt tears coming down so he stares at you and chuckles “aww, you’re crying? am I going too rough babe?” he asks, you moan against his cock as he start fucking your mouth “such a pretty mouth, I know you can take it all baby” he says, continuing to fuck your mouth with his cock until he pulls away and cum all over your breasts.
He bent you over on the bed and start to fuck you senselessly, “Se-Se-Seunghan..you’re so rough..” you cried as you grip on whatever that is in front of you “I know you like it rough, you love me being rough” he says as he holds your legs and thrust you harder, deeper and rougher “you’re a fucking slut who want to get fuck so much until you’re fill up with cum” he groans, you moan in response since you couldn’t think of anything to said- there was nothing in your mind right now, he’s making you feel so good and giddy. “Look at you, clenching so much at my words” he whispers as he spanks your ass while thrusting and thrusting. There was only the sound of skin slapping skin, loud moaning/groaning, and the temperature of the room was very hot. “S-Seunghan, please let me cum” you cried gripping onto the edge of the bed tightly “Aww, of course I will since you been a good girl” he says to you as he pull out and kneel on the floor spreading your legs apart and sit in between them, he softly kiss your clit “You been so good to me, you deserve this” he mentions, you hum in response and let out a moan when he suck on your clit for a bit while before eating you out.
“G-gonna cum..please let me cum..” you beg, he eats you out for a little more and holds your legs tight as you cum all over his tongue- he kiss your clit softly before pulling away “you’re so messy” he whispers, you lie on the bed and pant heavily “Did you like my service” he asks as he sit next to you “Yes, I did” you replies, he stares over at the clock and hums softly “We have at least half an hour left with each other” he reveals, “What should we do until then” you says, he looks at you and slightly smirks as an idea popped in his head. “What you thinking of in that mind of yours..” you asks him, he smiles at you before grabbing your waist and placing you on his lap. “So good baby..so good” he whimpers as you are bouncing up and down on his cock, “You make sure pretty noises, Seunghan..” you tell him, he tensed up at your words and hold his breath for a bit “Wish I can hear them all day” you spoken as you continue bouncing up and down his cock for a while until he let out a loud moan and cum in you “Please don’t stop, Y/N.. please” he begs, “So cute..begging me like that” you said as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock as he plays around with your breasts “a-ahh,so good..baby, you’re so good” he cries, you wipes his tears away with your thumbs as he whimpers loudly and cum in you again.
The two of you help each other get dressed before he unlocks and open the door, you grab your belongings and walk out of the room “I hope you enjoy and like my service today” he said, “yes, I did enjoy and like your service” you told him, “I hope to see you again soon” he tell you with a smile, “Can I get your number” you asks, “mhm..sure” he says. The two of you exchange phone numbers before you went to the front of the spa and pays for the two hour massage session. As soon as Seunghan’s shift was over, he grab his belongings and went straight home and did his normal night routine before texting you for the rest of the night.
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b4kuch1n · 1 year
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fuck it sk8 sketches from da sketchbook. get sk8ed idiot
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