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#the adrenaline is gone time to Crash. because he is sweetheart
roughentumble · 2 years
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ok this is kind of vague but i just got the idea of like. ok so geralt's having some sort of Bad Time, like a sensory overload type thing, or just general kind of distress. and jaskier is trying to calm him down, petting his arm soothingly, telling him "it's alright sweetheart," and in his sort of discombobulated state, geralt thinks to himself who's sweetheart? like, who is he talking about. and jaskier keeps saying it, and geralt keeps thinking that, eyes casting about for who jaskier could be talking to, until it clicks in his head
oh.
i'm sweetheart
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steventhusiast · 7 months
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STWG daily prompt 14/9/23
prompt: "You know what? It's not me, it's you."
pairing/character(s): steddie
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Steve tries to ignore his father's irritated gaze as he eats his food. Bringing Eddie to a rare dinner with his parents was definitely a bold move, but he knows that if Eddie wasn't here he wouldn't survive it. Steve could barely force himself to come back to Hawkins for it, but his mother had guilted him into it.
It's so hard to pretend not to be hurt when his parents ask him things that prove they know nothing about him. (Especially now that he's nearing thirty and has started thinking about having kids himself.) But it's easier with Eddie's hand on his knee, his thumb rubbing back and forth for comfort.
"Steven, I thought I told you this was a family dinner." Robert says, pointedly looking over at Eddie.
To his credit, Eddie looks very comfortable despite the uncomfortable situation. He's meeting Robert's eyes for the subtle glares, and hasn't toned himself down at all. Steve's so glad he's here.
"Yep. You did." Steve answers his father, voice clipped.
Robert rolls his eyes, and that's when Linda finally speaks up. She's nicer about things than Robert is, but it couldn't be more fake. She offers Eddie and Steve a very tense fake smile.
"I think what Robert's trying to say is that we didn't expect you to bring a friend, sweetheart."
This time Steve rolls his eyes. How many times does he have to come out to them for them to stop ignoring it.
"Eddie's not a friend, mom. You know this."
"Steven." Robert warns.
"No, dad. I'm fucking tired of it." Steve says with an incredulous laugh, and Eddie gives his knee a gentle squeeze to catch his gaze.
"It's okay, Stevie."
The sweet tone of Eddie's voice calms Steve a little, and he's about to take a deep breath when Robert slices through the sweet moment.
"Now you're letting him call you a girl's name? I can't believe what this miscreant is doing to you, Steven."
Eddie rolls his eyes at the comment, and from the set of his jaw Steve knows he's gritting his teeth to hold himself back.
"You used to be such a lovely boy, Steven. But if you're still... Adamant about this lifestyle, then I don't know if we can support it. It's very unreasonable and irresponsible of you." Linda adds on.
Steve laughs again at the insinuation that they've ever supported him at all, and lifts a hand to run through his hair as he thinks through his next words.
"No, mom. You know what? It's not me that's being an unreasonable piece of shit here. It's you two. You practically dragged me back to this shithole because you're 'grieving' grandma. I didn't want to come. I don't want to be here right now. But I am. And you're just..." He trails off and makes a vague gesture to the two of them.
Linda's mouth has dropped open from her own son swearing at her, and Robert's face is twisted into an expression of anger. Steve doesn't know why he thought this was anywhere close to a good idea.
"I mean what is this? Why am I here? I am twenty nine years old, and I will not sit here and listen to you talk to the man I love like this."
He makes direct eye contact with Robert as he speaks, not softening his glare at all. If his parents are going to drop the facade of respect, so is he. In fact, after glaring at his parents for a few seconds, he just gets up, grabs Eddie's hand, and pulls him toward the door.
"Fuck this." He mutters as they leave.
"That sucked." Eddie comments once they're in their car, and Steve huffs out a strained laugh as he nods. Now that they're out of that situation, and his adrenaline is starting to crash, inexplicable tears are starting to well in his eyes, "But you have also never been hotter. Standing up to the man like that? Most elaborate foreplay ever, Stevie-bee."
And then the ridiculousness of that comment shocks a laugh out of him, and the tears are gone. He grins over at Eddie and shakes his head at how Eddie's clearly holding back his own laughter.
God, he loves him.
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starfa11 · 1 year
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There's a First Time for Everything
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Word Count: 1065 Warnings: brief mentions of Peter being hurt, mostly fluff, canon violence, self-indulgent shenanigans The first time you met Peter Parker wasn’t even as Peter Parker. It was when a certain web-slinging vigilante crashed through the cafe window you worked at, frightening the customers, and effectively scaring them off. It didn’t make a great first impression that he’d successfully, accidentally ruined your work day. It also wasn’t a great impression that he’d started to bleed over your new carpet. That’s when it hit you, spiderman had just crashed through your window, and was bleeding on your carpet. That sent a jolt of white-hot electricity that was entirely fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you went to grab him and drag him behind the counter, murmuring “Sorries” as he muttered under his breath at the pain. After a quick, shoddy nursing job, he returned to fight and your first meet was concluded. 
The second time Peter had met you, he’d forgotten all about the first time, seeing a coffee shop that felt like home, and the pretty worker was no deterrent. He’d ordered a latte, nothing fancy, and you were so charming that he decided to forgo what he ended up deeming a usual boring coffee for latte art that had a heart on it. He really had been there to work, but when he’d gone up for a pastry the second time around, there was something about the groundedness and the weight on your shoulders that he recognized. Peter found that he enjoyed seeing the sweet light in your eyes much more than you with shaky hands and a creased forehead. He remembered the way you’d told him to have a nice day when he’d left, and he remembered your eyes, he figured he should talk to you at least once, whether that was as the him that you would find normal, or the vigilante that may or may not stroll through the door at some point soon. The third time you’d met Peter, was the second time you’d met Spider-man and he was all swagger and sweet talk as he called you sweetheart and stuck around as you closed up, and let all be damned as he laughed at the awkward new customers, the weird orders and the funny little stories that your work day lent to you. And when he left he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, called you sweetheart again, and left you feeling as scarlet as the red on his suit.  And that was that that was when Peter figured he may have harbored the smallest little crush on you. When his weeks were spent looking forward to the Fridays that he didn’t have classes so he could order a latte with a heart on it and a pastry in two separate rounds of going up to the counter, because you liked to compliment his style, or question what song he was listening to, and he liked to listen to the humming as you went about your work day. Though the humming was by no means star-striking, Peter found something so endearing about your comfortability in your space, and on patrol later that evening he remembered barely asking you to dance with him to some silly offbeat song on the radio. He barely remembered you saying yes, and he remembers how elated he was that you’d done so. What he had a clear memory of, however, was the way your eyes seemed all so amused, how they shone in the dim lights of the kitchen as everything went about outside of your cafe’s windows, the hustle and bustle of the city juxtaposing the calm quietness of the dancing and the way you always seemed to hum to whatever was on the radio. He remembered all of it, and he remembered the look on your face when he’d left like you knew something he didn’t, and for a second, he thought you might’ve.
The first time you had gone on a date with Peter Parker, he did everything right. After he asked for your phone number when he went to get his coffee and pastry, he waited until you’d been texting a short while, and then asked if you’d like to do something, like go to dinner, or see a movie. He’d been so endearingly awkward that it was difficult to say no, although you’d never wanted to. And when the day came, he brought you flowers, and seemed so scared to walk into your small apartment, but seemed so enamored by your little space and how much it felt like you that it was the most sickeningly sweet thing you’d seen in a while. You went to walk around and look at records in a sweet little record store that smelled like mothballs, lint, and faintly of cinnamon, with several lights that flickered in a yellow shade that made the entire space feel a little bit softer. After he took you to a diner, and you two had milkshakes and fries, the honey-eyed boy was adamant that you were to try fries dipped in milkshake, and was increasingly adamant that it was the best thing to be created since sliced bread. So you let him walk you home and paint the surrounding areas as yellow as he made you feel, and you let him kiss your hand and ask for another date. You let him take you out on a second date, then a fourth, then before you realized it, you’d gone on ten dates of laughter, silly inside jokes, and painting the world around you yellow with the boy you’d met for the first time, twice.
And the first time that Peter bared his soul to you, was telling you that you’d fallen for him twice. It tore you apart inside to know that this wonderful, loving boy who had danced with you in the snow as himself and behind your cafe counter as a swaggering vigilante who liked to paint your cheeks red with flustered laughter, was out risking himself. But you let him take you on another date, and you let him come to your home window so that you could patch him up. And you couldn’t believe, that Peter Benjamin Parker, for as reckless as he was, was still flirting with you while sitting on the kitchen counter, was still gazing up at you with those honey brown eyes like you were his yellows and reds.
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Hi , how are you? Can you please do prompt #70 with Joe Velasco from the angst prompt list . The reader doesn’t work for SVU .
A/N: Hi Nonny! This was a more challenging request than I expected it to be (but in a good way) but I hope it works in the end. Word Count: 1228 Rating: T - swearing; heavy description of injuries; canon-typical implications of sex, drugs, violence; 
You remembered exactly when you met Joe. It had been an ordinary Tuesday in your ordinary laundromat. Until suddenly it wasn't ordinary at all, dark eyes and charming smile crashing into you, gentle hands catching you by the shoulders to hold you steady. Your basket of freshly washed sheets tumbled to the grubby tiles and you found yourself oddly unbothered by it. 
Eventually you both broke out of your trance, startled apart when someone cleared their throat and pointedly reached past you for an empty basket. Joe offered to buy you lunch, you countered with the suggestion that he pay to rewash your laundry. (He did both.) And you found yourself swept up in a whirlwind romance. 
Some days were hard. His job as a detective meant he kept odd hours and came home weighted down by the things he had seen, things you could only try to understand. Sometimes the cases would be particularly bad, and he seemed to be trying to protect you from his world, from himself, no matter how much you wanted to be let in. And your job wasn’t easy either, leaving you stressed sometimes, overworked and tired, but you wondered if there was a tiny part of him that resented you for the fact that you were free and sheltered from the darkest parts of the world.
But you loved each other. You knew that Joe would do anything for you, and you reciprocated, always trying to be, if nothing else, a safe port in a storm. And you tried to tell yourself that was enough. 
~
It was another night up late on the couch alone, clutching your phone in the desperate hope that Joe would be able to slip away from his cover-life and call, or even send a text. He had been gone for a while, and you missed him. 
Your eyes burned with exhaustion and the clock read just after two when the rattle of the front door knob sent a cold shock of adrenaline through you. You sat bolt upright, mind racing for possible weapons you could get to fast enough. There was a muffled thump, as if the person on the other side dropped an item that was soft but heavy and the sound was followed by muttered swears in a language you didn't speak but were as familiar with as the sound of your own name. Your heart leapt, half convinced you were in the delusion of a waking dream. 
You were ready to throw yourself into your boyfriend's arms as soon as he crossed the threshold, but the state of him made you stop short. A series of white butterfly sutures stood stark against his tan skin above one eye. His cheek was puffy, only drawing more attention to the haggard sunkenness of his eyes. As you stared, his tongue ran across his lower lip in an attempt to swipe away the blood slowly dewing there from a series of cracks in the skin. The sight of you still awake and waiting for him despite the hour drew a deep sigh, a mixed sound of weariness and guilt that quickly became a wince as it shook his left arm that sat pinned across his chest in a sling.
“Hey sweetheart,” he said, offering you a tired smile. “What are you doing up so late?”
You felt the wall around your heart grow more solid, no longer able to keep fighting its stony embrace. 
“What am I doing up?” You scoffed. “You're joking right? You've been gone for almost two months. I haven't heard from you in weeks! And you come in with a casual 'hey sweetheart' like it's nothing?”
“I–”
“I've been up waiting every goddamn night, Joe, for any kind of news. Anything at all. I can't remember the last time I got a good night's sleep, because of how worried I've been." You ran a frustrated hand through your hair and sighed. "You couldn't have at least texted and told me you were coming?”
“Jeez, I'm really feeling the love. I've been gone and the first thing you do is yell at me? If I didn't know better I'd think you didn't want me home.” He forced his tone to stay light, to feel like a joke. But you knew him too well for his little tricks to work on you, and you could read the tension, edged in anger, thrumming through every part of him.
“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?” you laughed incredulously. “Fuck Joe, I’m this upset because of how much I love you.” 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? That makes no sense.” 
“Because you don’t want it to. Look at you. You look like hell. You came home in bandages, not for the first time. And I…I can’t deal with the possibility that it could be in a hospital bed or a body bag next time. Or that you’re just going to disappear and I’m never going to know what happened.”
You felt the tears welling in your eyes and turned away from him, hugging yourself to try and fight it back. Now that you had started, you couldn’t hold back the feelings anymore. But you knew that looking at him, probably giving you those sad puppy dog eyes he was so good at, would break you worse. 
“And where would that leave me? Alone, and in love with someone who wasn’t here and…not even your widow because you’ve never asked and I never had the balls to either and knowing us we’d never make it down the aisle anyway. And even if we did, what good would that do? A title that gives me permission to mourn longer, and a box of your stuff that would just taunt me from the corner because I’ll never go through it?”
You felt his good hand on your shoulder, and the heat of his body against your back, and it took all of your strength not to lean back into him. 
“Sweetheart, slow down,” he asked, voice soft and low and warm against your ear.
You could feel all of the rage that had been driving you and holding you up start to leach away. 
“I'm not asking you to stop being a cop…” you protested weakly even though he hadn't even suggested such a thing. “I know how much this job means to you.”
“I know,” you could almost hear his heart breaking in those two words.
“But…I'm not sure there's room for me too in that.” You turned to face him, even though you knew the sight of him might shake your resolve. 
“Come on sweetheart, don't…” he hesitated and the moment felt like it stretched into a pained eternity. “Don't say that.”
“Joe. We have to face reality someday.”
“Does it have to be tonight?” He pleaded. There were tears in his eyes, but that didn't bring the same to yours, which told you everything you needed to know.
“I'm not cut out for this, and it's not fair to either of us to keep pretending I am.”
“Tomorrow? Please, I promise we'll talk about this tomorrow and figure something out?”
You sighed, nodding. One more night in his arms was worth the pain the lie caused you as you told yourself it might work out. “Ok. Tomorrow.”
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strangelysamantha · 3 years
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hey, i have a jj maybank request! fem!reader, possible angst!
so basically, y/n is a pogue and gets along with the other pogues (john b, pope, sarah, kiara & cleo) except for jj. y/n is always bright, a total sweetheart and bubbly and jj…hates it.
john b recently opens up a surf board shop on that stranded island that they’re on?? and he leaves y/n and jj alone to polish some boards hoping that they’d get along. jj complains about every little thing y/n does and starts calling her names. she gets really upset and storms out the shop to clear her head. she goes by the water for a swim but a dangerous tide picks her up and jj notices and saves her?? hopefully this makes sense!
the deep end ☆
jj maybank x fem!reader.
warnings: mentions of drowning, jj being an asshole, swearing.
words: 1,674.
summary: jj somehow finds everything you do annoying to the point he criticizes everything you do. john b thinks of a plan that will ensure his two friends will befriend each other. it was working at first, until it wasn’t.
request? yes!
a/n: y’all have such good ideas what the?! thank you for the request! if you enjoyed please like and comment. this is angst with fluff at the end. <3 BTW i am from missouri and have never surfed so i hope i got the polishing of the surfboards correct. :)
my masterlist
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john b always had a plan, well usually he did. if two of his friends were fighting, he would always find a way to get them to get along. he knew that stranding kiara and sarah on a boat together in the middle of nowhere would force them to fix their friendship. so, with that knowledge, he knew that he could do the same thing with jj and you.
you were always nice to jj, he just seemed to get annoyed with you all the time. you didn’t know what you had done, if you had even done something. he just always felt the need to critique you. it became harder and harder everyday to ignore him.
since washing up on the abandoned island, john b was ecstatic for his brand new start. unsurprisingly to anyone, his first idea for creating a new civilization would be a surf shack. he started building it right away. you would occasionally help, but he was determined to do it on his own so he would always send you away.
“okay! john b what would you like my help with? i can do anything you need. just let me know.” you smile brightly at john b, while he stared at you. “listen, i love you. but, i don’t need your help at the moment. you should talk to everyone else.” you frown at his words, “fine. but you better get me the minute you need assistance.” he nodded. “will do.” and with that, you left joining the others.
jj was talking to cleo before silencing upon your arrival. “hey everyone!” you smile at the group in front of you. “hey! how’s john b?” kiara asked. “i think he is good, he’s actually pretty much done.” you play with the bracelet on your wrist. kiara nods, “that’s great.” pope smiles, “statistically speaking, we can’t ensure that his shack will be entirely safe as he built it all on his own.” you stare at pope. “true… we’ll let’s hope it doesn’t collapse on him.” pope smiled at you, glad you listened to his random fact.
jj groaned. “awe, how sweet pope!! you found a girl who wasn’t disgusted by your weird and useless knowledge.” you gasp in shock, “jj! shut up you are so rude.” jj laughs, “it’s just a joke, why do you always have to be so offended?” you glare at jj. “jj it’s not funny, you’re just a dick.” pope sighs. “it’s okay, don’t worry.” you frown in popes direction. you quietly pull away from the group. you walk to an area of sand, plopping yourself down. that’s when john b approached you.
“hey, remember when i told you i would come get you when i needed help?” john b smiled at you. “yes! do you need my help?” you tilt your head to the side, waiting. he nods. “i need you to wax up some of the boards i made.” you nod. “okay! sure.” he walked you to his shack, helping you set up. you began waxing the board, paying attention to the direction and the amount of wax you were applying. john b waits a minute watching you, before he decides to leave.
after a minute, you see jj approaching the shack with john b who held a smug smile on his lips. you shake your head, confused. “friends.” he looked between you and jj. jj held an unamused look on his face. “as my close friends, you will wax these boards for me. you can’t stop until you guys fix whatever feud is going on between the two of you.” john b stands his ground. jj scoffs, “we don’t have a feud.” you nod your head in agreement. “jj is right, his hatred is definitely one sided... it is not a feud.” you laugh softly seeing jj send a glare your way. “yeah okay. whatever guys. just fix it, and if you even try and leave, i’ll send cleo after both of you.” your eyebrows lift in shock. you mutter a quick okay, returning your attention to the board.
jj stares at you, watching you apply the wax. he couldn’t help but get upset. everything you did just made him annoyed. he grabbed the wax, working on the board right by yours. silence falls over the two of you. it’s not awkward or weird, it actually feels quite normal. until jj interrupted it so he could judge you.
“youre doing it wrong. i mean come on.” you stare at jj, “jj please just focus on your own board.” you shake your head, continuing to polish the surfboard. he glares at you. “whatever. just keep doing what you are doing, and then john b or i will fix it after you.” his attention turned back to his board. you rolled your eyes. “i will, thank you.” he breathes in, inhaling the waxy scent. “you are so annoying you know that?” you ignore jj’s words, focusing on the board. he continues, “i mean everything you do. everything you say, it pisses me off.” you nod slightly. “you done?”
“no, actually i’m not.” you bite your lip, fixating on the wax that is spreading along the smooth surface. jj stops waxing the surfboard. you look up to see he is already staring at you. “you know, you act like you are better than us, i mean why do you hang out with us anyway?” jj waits but continues when he realizes you won’t reply. “you are fake, you are so upbeat and bubbly that it’s annoying. you are a double sided two faced bitch who says anything to get in good graces.” you inhale, looking up at him.
“listen jj. we are stranded on this fucking island. TOGETHER. so either drop it and move on, or just shut the fuck up and stay away from me.” you place your hands on your hips, breathing slightly staggered from anger. “everyone speaks so highly of you saying how great you are; but the only jj i’ve met is a total douche. if you hate me so much then just stay the fuck away from me. if you continue you’ll just be wasting your breath and energy anyway.” jj holds back a laugh at your sudden outburst.
“you really think if i had the choice, i would want to be here? especially with you?” jj asked, you already knowing the answer. you stay silent. “exactly. no one can deal with you for that long anyway.” you roll your eyes.
“whatever jj. you win.” you toss the wax to the side, frowning. you don’t turn back to him, you just ignore him. you start to walk towards the beaches seashore. it was getting slightly hot, so you decided to take a dip into the water.
you were salvaging the few moments of freedom you had, before you got john b’s and cleo’s wrath from leaving the scene before mending the friendship with jj. it was practically impossible. what did jj have against you? you tip toed into the water, getting deeper and deeper. you floated at the top of the water; the coolness feeling great on top of your hot skin.
jj truly had the biggest nerve, your mind was overwhelmingly clogged. you felt seaweed scratch against the bottom of your foot, this caused you to jump, your adrenaline levels rising since you thought it was a fish. you try to remain afloat, but the high tide caused the waves to crash right over you repeatedly, being faster and higher than ever. you went above water trying to shout for help, but your mouth was filled, causing no sound to come out. you thrash against the water, kicking to stay afloat. your throat was burning, your legs tired from kicking, and your lungs filled with liquid.
a pair of hands wrap around your stomach, dragging you out the water. you were placed on the warm sand. “shit.” jj stared at you. your head felt light. jj’s hand began pumping your chest, curses falling from his mouth. “come on, just breathe. please.” you cough, the salt water exiting your lungs, and dropping onto your neck. you gasp for air, opening your eyes to be met with jj’s face. you breathe heavily for a minute.
“jj… thank you.” you sit up, pulling him into a tight hug. your hands wrap around his neck, one of them grabbing his hair. his arms held tightly around your waist. his chest was heaving heavily, shaking slightly. “i hate to be so cliché j, but you genuinely saved my life.” he frowns at you. “i almost lost you.”
jj’s confession confused you. “what?” you say softly, your hand combed through his hair. “look. the reason i’m so mean to you, is because i knew that if i was nice to you, my already intense feelings for you would only amplify.” you frown at him. “you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” jj nodded. you went to talk, but your friends interrupted the moment.
john b rushed to your side, kiara and pope swiftly behind him. “what happened!! we were watching from over there.” john b pointed in a direction farther away. “one minute you were swimming… the next you we’re gone!?” you wipe your neck, trying to dry it off. “jj saved my life. i almost drowned.” you frown, the group in front of you nodded. “im so glad you are okay.” kiara bent down pulling you into a hug. “i’m glad you are safe now too.” pope joined in on the hug; as well as everyone else.
sarah, kiara, and cleo bend down, reaching for your hands. they help you up, dragging you to your feet. they walk you away from the crowd, bombarding you with questions. “so when you were drowning what did it feel like??” you turn around watching jj, you smile slightly before turning to them. “oh get ready for the amount of details i’m going to give you guys.”
possibly a part two…??? not sure yet :) <3 also!! i’m proofreading this tomorrow since i’m not entirely sure if it has errors or not! ily!!
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whiskeymeaway92 · 2 years
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A/N: This is basic and not that creative but what can I say, sometimes some basic angst is what you get.
P.s if anyone can teach me how to collapse my posts it would be much appreciated. Not sure if it's because I use the app or if I'm just an idiot.
Summary: Benny cancels on you last minute with a lie about work. Come to find out his very attractive female army buddy is in town and he ditched you to hang out with her.
Last Minute Lies
You were in a great mood. You had music on, playing throwbacks as you got ready for your date with Benny. He was working at the gym he owned with Will and his last training session should be wrapping up soon. Date night with Benny was never dull, sure most nights started off with dinner like most people but always ended up somewhere fun after. He had taken you dancing, late night swimming at his favorite spot, stargazing, sometimes it was as simple as a pool hall but you always had the best time no matter what it was you two did together. You didn't know what the plan was for tonight but it really didn't matter you were just excited to spend time with him. You two had been dating for 7 months and this was easily the best relationship you had ever been in, Benny made you so happy.
You were just about to change into the outfit you had picked out for the night when your phone rang and Benny's name popped up on your screen. You paused the music and snagged your phone to answer.
"Hey you, I was just in the middle of getting ready."
"Hey sweetheart, I'm sure you look gorgeous but I have some bad news, I gotta cancel our date tonight."
"What, why? Is something wrong?"
"No baby, it's nothing like that, I'm just swamped here at the gym, Will and I have to stay late and get this paperwork caught up."
"Oh, well is there anything I can do to help? I could drop off some food for you guys."
"Awe darlin that's sweet of you but Will already grabbed some pizza. I'm sorry to cancel so last minute, I was looking forward to seeing you and I promise I'm gonna make it up to you baby."
"It's okay Ben, I understand. I'll see you tomorrow at your fight, I might be a little late so I'll just grab a spot at the back." You tried not to let you disappointment at not seeing him tonight seep into your tone.
"Like hell you will, I don't want you in the back with those guys, they get pretty rowdy in the back section. I'll always save a seat for you sweetheart, right up front. If you have any issues call one of the guys, everyone is supposed to be there tomorrow."
"Okay, well I guess I'll let you get started on your paperwork. Goodnight Benny, I love you."
"Goodnight baby, I can't wait to see you tomorrow, I love you too."
Your good mood squashed, you hung your outfit back up in your closet and changed into some pajamas instead. You ordered some takeout and decided to curl up on the couch and watch some movies for the night while trying not to be too sad. You were going to see him tomorrow after all, granted it's not the same, he's going to be busy tomorrow before, during, and after the fight. You'll get some time with him after but it's different. Benny will be amped up on adrenaline and all of you will go to the bar after and hang out but Benny will likely crash before you get any real alone time with him. You would have to settle for the fact he would at least probably have you spend the night at his place and you could snuggle up to him. The rest of your movie night went by pretty quick, you hadn't heard anymore from Ben but you didn't expect to, he was working. After three movies you decided to call it night, your night in, while unplanned hadn't been so bad.
The next day you had gone about your morning, cleaning your house and running some errands to prep for the upcoming week. You had lunch with some friends and spent the afternoon making peanut butter cookies. Before you knew it it was time to get ready. You had told Ben you may be a little late tonight and that was because you promised your niece you would go see her karate test, she was going for her purple belt and you wouldn't miss it for the world. Her test was at 5:30 and Benny's match didn't start until 7pm so you shouldn't miss much unless traffic was bad. You got ready and grabbed the cookies you had packed up for your niece and headed out the door.
When you got there you spotted Frankie and his wife with their daughter and you went over to chat with them. Turns out Frankie's daughter, Mariana, was in the same karate class as your niece, Makayla.
"Your going to Benny's fight after arnt you?"
"Yeah, I wouldn't miss it, Benny said everyone was going to be there tonight."
"Yeah even our old friend, Melanie is going to be there. Her and Ben go way back, they went through boot camp together and she was part of our unit until she was medically discharged after a back injury."
"Oh? Can't say he has mentioned her, does she live in town?"
"Nah, she flew in last night, is just in town for the week visiting family."
You thought it was odd Benny hadn't mentioned this person at all, let alone the fact they were visiting. For now though you brushed it off and cheered on both girls in their karate tests. Being sure to congratulate them both when they passed and were rewarded with their new belts.
Once you had said goodbye to your family and friends you headed straight for the gym where Benny's fight was being held, you only ended up being 15 minutes late and Frankie, who had gotten there ahead of you but waited for you, made sure you got in and to your seat upfront without issue. You noticed the woman with your usual group before you reached your seat and wow she was gorgeous. Then you were introduced to her and you instantly liked her. She was very nice and funny, she teased each of the guys and you knew it was gonna be a fun night.
It was the last round of the fight and Ben was doing great, you leaned over to Melanie and said "this guy is tired, no way he even lands a hit on Ben this round."
"Oh yeah, Ben was saying last night at the bar that this guy always comes out of the gate too strong, uses up his energy and then is an easy take down the last two rounds."
Your heart sank
"Last night?"
"Yeah! You should have come with, Benny and I went to the pool hall and hung out. He told me all about this guy and how he was predictable as hell."
Melanie went back to cheering for Ben not realizing the slap of reality she had just delivered. Ben lied to you last night and cancelled your date to go on a different one. Melanie seemed great, like she was one of the guys, and she was visiting from out of town, had he just explained that it would have been one thing but he didn't. He lied.
You stood up and grabbed your jacket and purse and headed for your car without a word to anyone. You were hurt and getting angrier by the second and suddenly Benny was the last person you wanted to see tonight.
--------------------------------------
Later that night there was a knock on your door, you could guess who it was. You were still angry and not ready to talk to him but you knew he would wait out there all night if you didn't say something to him so you begrudgingly opened the door but you didn't move aside for him to come in.
"What do you want Ben?" You said in a cold tone, not meeting his eyes. You knew you might cave and let him in if he looked at you with those puppy dog eyes of his.
"Can we talk?"
"I'm not in the mood for more lies tonight Benjamin."
"Ouch...I deserved that, I'm sorry that I lied to you baby, can I please just come in and explain myself?"
You were not ready to have this conversation, you were still processing what he did, still working through your emotions and you knew if you talked to him about this now it wouldn't go well, so you shook your head.
"Not tonight Ben, go home."
And with that you closed the door. Your anger dissolved into sadness and hurt. He lied to you and canceled a date with you to go spend time with another woman. You knew Melanie was just an army buddy but right then you didn't care, you boiled it down to the bare fact that he ditched you for her, and it hurt. So you went back to the couch, turned on a movie and wallowed in all of your feelings. Eventually you would talk to Ben and you hoped you two would work it out. That just wasn't the stage you were in yet.
------------------------------------
Three days had gone by and you still hadn't made up with Benny. He called you everyday and left several voicemails trying to get you to talk to him. You had received calls from the guys too, none of them stuck up for his behavior but they all said there was more to it and you should really hear him out. Melanie even called you, having gotten your number from Will. She apologized and explained that nothing romantic had ever happened between her and Benny. Their relationship just wasn't like that, he was like her brother. You explained to her that she didn't need to apologize to you, she wasn't the one who lied to you, but you appreciated her trying to clear things up. She reminded you that Ben had a fight tonight, you hadn't forgotten, but she did convince you to go. You would talk to him after the fight, you were ready to hear him out and let him try to explain what the hell he was thinking that night. You were still mad but you were at the point where you were ready to hear his side and you could verbalize the way he had made you feel. It was time to talk.
You got to the fight and decided you were going to find a spot in the back section, you didn't want Benny to spot you and get distracted while he was fighting. You also weren't feeling overly social and so sitting with your usual group was not that appealing. Melanie spotted you though and gave you a small wave happy to see you had decided to come watch.
About half way through the fight you regretted your seat choice and now understood why Benny didn't want you sitting in this section. It was just a bunch of rowdy drunk guys shoving each other in their excitement and trying to get a better view. You had caught an elbow to the face and were sure you would see a bruise tomorrow. The guy didn't mean to hit you, he didn't even really notice to be honest, he just continued to drunkenly cheer and you moved away holding your face. You went to the small snack shack and asked them for a baggy of ice and decided to watch the rest of the fight from the entry door. You could still mostly see and you weren't mixed in with the crowd.
Benny was not doing so hot in this fight. He landed some solid hits but he also took a bunch of hits too. You winced as he took a particularly nasty blow to the face and you hoped he hadn't broken his nose. He wasn't focusing, you knew Benny could beat this guy, you had seen him do it before. You felt a pang of guilt for not being open to fixing things sooner. You knew it was a tad presumptuous for you to think his lack of focus was about you but you knew your fight had to at least be part of what was on his mind.
Benny managed to win the fight, but he didn't seem to really care as his arm was raised as the winner. He gave a quick nod to the crowed and then stalked off to the locker room. You waited a beat and then followed in the same direction. You hesitated at the door, then you heard Wills voice behind you.
"Go ahead honey, talk to him. He's gonna be happy to see you, he's been moping around all week.... For what's it worth He knows he fucked up."
You turned to Will and gave him a nod, before you took a deep breath and entered the locker room knowing Will would keep the others out and give you guys some time.
You found Benny sitting back to you on a bench, elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging low staring at the water bottle he was holding. He let out an audible sigh
"Will, I'm not in the mood to hear it okay, I fought like shit but I won in the end so just don't start."
"That hit to the face looked pretty bad, are you okay?"
Benny shot right up off the bench at the sound of your voice, turning quickly to face you.
"Hey...I uh, I didn't think you would come"
You walked toward him and handed him your baggy of ice even tho it was starting to melt. Not like he put it to his face anyway he just held it in his hand. All of his focus on you.
"Yeah well, I wasn't sure I was going to...but here we are, even when I'm mad at you I still want to be here for you. Besides, I thought maybe we could talk? I wasn't ready to listen to your side before but I am now."
Benny didn't waste any time, he jumped right into explaining himself
"Baby I'm so sorry I lied to you. When you left the fight last weekend so abruptly and then Melanie told me what you two had been talking about before, I knew it sounded bad. I felt like an asshole lying to you sweetheart, I shouldn't have."
"Then why did you Ben? Had you just told me the truth I would have understood. I can't promise I would have been super happy about it but she's your friend and she's only in town for a little bit. I would have understood why you needed to cancel. Instead you lied to me and made me feel so unwanted, like you would trade me for her without another thought!"
"That's not true! I wouldn't trade you for anyone baby, I love you. I just...I fucked up. I thought you would tell me I couldn't see my friend and it would cause us to fight. I didn't want to fight with you, I've been in that position before, girlfriends who didn't understand how I could only be friends with Melanie. That girl is like my sister for fucks sake, not to mention I'm no cheater."
"You're lying sure made you look like a cheater Ben, you didn't want to fight with me and yet here we are. I met Melanie at the fight and I liked her Ben, she even called me to apologize and convinced me to show up tonight. I don't think you were cheating on me with her Benny but it really hurt to know you ditched me and lied, imagine if the tables were turned how would that make you feel? If I lied to you to spend time with another man?"
It was silent for a bit and you could tell he was really trying to put himself in your shoes and imagine the reverse situation.
"Shit, honey I'm so sorry. Your right I would be pissed if you lied to me and blew me off for someone else no matter what the circumstances were. I didn't think it through, I didn't give you a chance, I just assumed you would react the way past girlfriends have and that wasn't fair.....Can you forgive me?"
"No more lying Benny, I won't put up with that."
"No more lying, I promise."
You took the first step towards him but once he realized you were headed for him he took two large steps and hugged you right to him. You didn't care that he was all gross and sweaty it just felt good to be back in his arms and have this whole thing sorted out. He took your face in his hands to kiss you but when he did you winced and he instantly dropped his hands
"You okay?" He examined your face and realized your left eye was a little swollen.
"I'm fine, I grabbed a spot in the back and caught an elbow to the face in the crowd it's nothing. Your face is gonna bruise worse than mine anyway from that hit you took."
Benny took your face back in his hands very gently as he took a closer look at your eye planting a soft kiss to where you got hit.
"I wasn't paying enough attention, but it looked worse then it was. Only one of us is meant to get hit at these things sweetheart and it sure as hell ain't you. Your spot is up front where it's safe, your not alone, and I can see you, understand? I don't care how mad you are at me that's your spot."
"Trust me, I regretted my seating choice and I understand now why you never let me sit back there."
Benny hummed in response and hugged you close to him again.
"Im gonna grab a shower and then im taking you on that date, just the two of us."
"No your not Ben." You said with mock sternness and his face dropped thinking you were still mad. "Melanie is only here for the rest of the week, we are gonna go to the bar with everyone and have a good time visiting with your friends."
He beamed at you, bending down to kiss you long and hard.
"How the hell did I get so lucky to have you?"
You smiled up at him and quipped "I don't know Benny, but don't think you don't still owe me a date too"
He chuckles and kissed you again
"Happily baby, I'll take you anywhere you wanna go."
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shokobuns · 3 years
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“𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬”
your sugar daddy takes you to the beach.
PAIRING: sugar daddy!sukuna ryoumen x f!sugar baby!reader
GENRE: smut, some angst
WORD COUNT: 1.3k 
WARNING(S): 16+ smut, kind vanilla, unedited, uncharacteristic soft sex, beach sex, exhibitionism, implied dacryphilia, praise, overstim, unprotected sex, marking, creampie, unintended confession, angst if you squint
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He keeps one hand on the while almost carelessly driving top down when he speeds down the highway. The sun shines down on the both of you, providing you with all the warmth you can ever ask for. Your hair blows in the wind and he takes small glances to admire you — the pretty girl who sits in the passenger seat. On the other hand, you don’t make an effort to hide your staring, observing how the top button of his shirt is down, revealing the tattoos on his chest, and how the smoke from the cigarette falls behind him.
There’s nothing but miles of desert that surround either side of the car, but it’s not like you would try to run away anyways. It’s been a year. You trust him. That trust includes him paying your rent in time, him giving you extra money for textbooks, him giving you a much needed vacation. And with time, you trust him to keep you safe — something that he has never failed to do once.
“You’re staring again, Princess.”
“Keep your eyes on the road, Ryo.”
He grins at the sound of you calling him by his first name, enjoying how it rolls off your tongue. Ryo. It’s a name often spoken with underlying tones of spite, but you say it in a way that’s so gentle, he can’t help but yearn to hear it once more. Though, you don’t notice his expression. Instead, you’re looking at the veins adorning his inked arms to his hands to his knuckles, licking your lips at the sight.
“Where are we going anyways?” You ask, resting your head against your arm, basking in the feeling of the sun warmly hitting your face.
“It’s a surprise, Princess,” he brings the cigarette up to his lips, “Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy yourself.”
And so you do, your usual worries leaving you with every passing mile as you anticipate his next move. When the only thing left in his hand is a cigarette butt, his hand frees up, but you don’t quite realize it until his long fingers grip your thigh. He gives it a small squeeze, keeps his eyes on the road and blood rushes to your cheeks. “Pervert.” You mutter, faux disdain evident in your voice.
“What’s that, Sweetheart?” He asks mockingly.
“I said you’re a pervert,” you roll your eyes with a smile, “Do I have to repeat it again?”
“I guess you’re not getting your bonus this month.”
He’s bluffing, just like always and you giggle, bringing the hand  up to your lips, pressing a soft, adoring kiss. For a moment, Sukuna is taken aback at the oddly intimate action, but you bring his hand back down to your inner thigh, placing a little higher than where it was before. He rubs small circles on the flesh and you go back to admiring the marked skin and strawberry blonde hair blowing in the wind.
Around 30 minutes later, a familiar sight of sand and waves come into view. Water crashes on the land, palm trees thrive, different groups of people are gathered together.
“A beach?” You ask excitedly, before your face is pulled into a frown, “I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“I bought one for you, Princess,” he chuckles, “You think I’d come unprepared?”
“You brought me to the beach because you wanted to see me in a bikini, didn’t you?”
“That’s a plus,” he admits,  “But remember when you said that you liked beaches, even if you were doing nothing, you just liked to sit around in the sun and think? Sand between your toes and shit? Thought you needed that right about now.”
“Well, you aren’t wrong.”
He brushes your hair behind your ear right after he finishes parking, kissing your forehead and giving you two flimsy pieces of fabric to slip on for the day. You find an area to change before coming out and he’s ready to walk out on the sand, a blanket in one hand. Spending time with him, being with him, it’s exactly what he paid you to do and you like to think you’re doing a good job.  Either way, it wasn’t just a way to make ends meet anymore. At this point, it wasn’t just a simple transaction.
And for him? It wasn’t the temporary pleasure he had anticipated. It was enjoyable. And when you were gone? He longed for you in a way he hadn’t felt before.
It was calming to lay on his lap, his body slightly propped up by his palm while his hand rested on your cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin. Your body relaxes at his touch, hand coming to wrap around his wrist. He’s confused at first until you’re sitting up yourself, positioning yourself until you’re fully sat on his lap. Your thumb brushes his bottom lip before you lean in for a searing kiss.
This time, you’re initiating all of it, grinding against the imprint on his crotch, keeping your hands on his shoulder as he groans deeply. You’re far enough from the rest of the public, at least you think you are, but it doesn’t matter anymore because this time he lets you get on top, something that rarely happens. Every kiss on your bare neck to your shoulder is sluggish, almost lazy, and every grope on the fat of your hips and the plush of your ass is gentle, almost like you were made of porcelain.
Though, you don’t question it; you don’t see the point in doing that anyways because the material separating your slick cunt from his thigh is thin. Before you know it, his cock is out of his shorts, springing up to his stomach as he pulls on the string of your bikini bottoms, watching the material easily fall off your body. You align yourself onto him, sinking down and taking time to feel every inch of his throbbing length.
Every roll of your hips is languid, contrasting from the many times he usually takes control and abuses your body as he pleases, giving you a fat sum of money after. But somehow, the intimacy of right now was just as good, if not better, than past times. Your breaths mingle together and you forget that you’re on the beach at all, lost in your own euphoria as he pulls your body closer, sucking on the smooth skin of your neck. He never misses a chance to mark you.
His thumb quickly finds your bundle of nerves, massaging soft circles and your walls clamp around his fat cock, swallowing every inch as you ride him. Your back arches, a sign signifying that you’re close, but instead of thrusting upwards like usual, he guides your hips until your high comes to you in waves, causing your walls to flutter erratically. “So cute,” he coos, watching your mouth open as you come undone, “Such a pretty girl when you’re cumming around my cock, aren’t you?”
“Y-Yeah, Ryo,” you reply hazily, “Feels s’good, Ryo.”
“So needy,” he murmurs, “Doesn’t matter where we are, huh?”
You could only reply with a whimper because your mind is foggy, filled with dense clouds of lust and your knees hurt, but he hasn’t cum yet and you want to make him feel good so badly. He senses this, tightening the grip around your ass and biting down on your shoulder just to hear you whine again. He’s successful, the sound setting him off as he holds down your hips until his cock is buried in your warm pussy, shooting a streak of hot white cum into your womb.
One slight movement of your hips causes his length to twitch, stiffening once again. Sukuna can tell that you’re tired, and so he thrusts upwards, harshly driving into your ruined cunny while you muffle your sobs into his neck. He holds you close, inhaling your scent, as he impales you over and over again with his fat cock.
“So good for me, so fucking perfect,” he praises, getting lost in the feeling of your tight cunt pulsating around him, “God, I fucking love you.”
The sound of waves crashing onto the shore layer over the lewd sounds as pure adrenaline pumps in your veins. You chant his name over and over again like a mantra, your creaming cunny sucking him until he’s milked dry. By the time the two of you leave the beach, you’re filled to the brim with his seed with sticky residue remaining on your thighs the whole ride back home.
That’s the last time you ever see him again.
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years
Note
Hello!! sorry to bother you could write a ben 10 x reader? (the reader is kidnapped by vilgax and ben has to save her, after that ben and the reader has an argument) please, i love your fics!!
Storm Before The Calm
Pairing: Pre-Established; Ben Tennyson x Reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3.4k words
A/N: I changed up the request a bit (I figured it shouldn't matter which villain was used here) also I was planning to have this as sort of a damsel in distress situation but after having a chat with some boys pigs I decided a self indulgant badass reader was right up my alley
Additional A/N: I have a math exam on Thursday and I cannot focus for the life of me. So, I decided to finish up one of my drafts. Now hopefully I'll be able to work like a robot for the next week, after satisfying my creative side. Also, this fic was super self indulgant.
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"I trust Ben.” You did. With your entire being.
Kevin chuckled from beside you, “Yeah, try saying that without cracking the fillings in your teeth and maybe we’ll believe you.”
His words caused you to relax, only then realizing how hard your jaw was clenched in fury. Gwen sighed in disappointment and for a second you wanted to defend her cousin and your boyfriend. Until you realized that he deserved every bit of unbridled anger coming to him.
“I trust him. Doesn’t mean I’m not mad at him.”
Your hands were balled into tight fists and even though you wanted to take your eyes off the television screen and take a warm bath, you also for some reason couldn’t stop yourself from watching it.
Like you were afraid something would happen when your eyes were off the screen for even a second. Maybe you didn’t trust him.
But honestly how could you, you were currently watching your boyfriend relax in a hot tub with Jennifer Nocturne and the sight was enough to send bile up your throat.
Ben wasn’t returning any of her advances, but he wasn’t stopping her either. And the thought made you sick to your stomach. You knew Ben was faithful and you knew he would never cheat on you but watching how the Hollywood starlet continued to hang off him sent waves of jealousy through you.
Not to mention anger at the fact that he wasn’t doing anything to stop her. When he got back, you were going to wring his neck.
Trusting him was getting harder with Gwen constantly insisting that you dump him.
Honestly, you wondered how that girl even kept a relationship.
When Ben eventually came home, all the entertainment channels were still talking about the two of them and the well-known picture of Jennifer Nocturne kissing him was circulating about. Each time you looked at that image, you wanted to shoot an arrow at the TV.
As time went by, your anger slowly fizzled out. You were unable to maintain your rage at Ben, quickly getting a headache and feeling tired of trying to maintain negative emotions. Even then, you couldn't push down the uneasy feeling in your heart that seized your stomach.
You kept expecting a text message from Ben, an apology call but as the night proceeded you understood that he was having way too much fun with another woman to even think about how you must be feeling.
The thought of that made you want to go back home and crawl underneath the covers, hiding away from the rest of the world.
But Gwen was persistent and any time you tried to wiggle away from the pair of them and go home, she insisted that you stay and make sure Ben knew how upset he made you tonight.
You were more than happy to give your boyfriend the cold shoulder until he apologized rather than have to confront him. That was just how your relationship with Ben worked. Neither of you were the type to lose your tempers and yell and scream at each other.
Although you were worried what would come out of this. Would you be able to peacefully discuss your feelings and then come to some sort of conclusion civilly? Seems too good to be true honestly.
Even then you waited until Ben came home, listening to Gwen and Kevin about how you should rip the band aid off and get everything off your chest rather than ignore him for a couple of days until the two of you got bored.
Usually, the latter would work but you had an inkling that it wouldn't be the solution for this particular argument because if you didn't communicate your emotions then he would never know how you felt about it.
So, even though your stomach filled with anxiety and sadness as the hours passed, you still didn't leave, determined to talk to him about it.
Your jaw was clenched tight when he finally did come back home, utterly relaxed and even happy like he wasn't just curled up against some Hollywood starlet while his girlfriend was watching it on E!
"I'm really upset with you." You ground out when Kevin and Gwen left, not knowing how else to start the conversation.
"What for?"
You didn't reply, picking up the remote and flicking to a gossip channel, then a news channel, then an interview show and all of them had the picture of Ben Tennyson and Jennifer Nocturne locking lips.
Ben winced, "She kissed me! I didn't even return it."
You still refused to look at you, crossing your arms aggressively, "Uh huh and what was today all about?"
"It's just publicity. Jennifer thinks that it'll help with my career."
You scoffed, "What career?"
Ben's back tensed up and he turned to give you a stiff expression, "I'm a superhero. I've saved the universe a thousand times and now that I'm finally getting recognition for it, you want to be petty?"
"Petty? You think I'm being petty? Well forgive me for getting upset after watching my boyfriend curl up to some other woman in a hot tub for the last five hours!" You bit, standing up from the couch.
"It wasn't like that! Stop blowing everything out of proportion!"
"No, you stop pretending like this isn't a big deal! Ever since your secret got out you've been acting like an ass and since meeting that blonde rat it's only gone through your head more!" You shouted, clenching your hands at your sides. How could he not see your side of this?
"Well shouldn't I get to enjoy my life once in a while?! I'm the one saving the planet constantly! I'm the one with constant death threats and near death experiences every other week! Shouldn't I get some attention for it?! God knows I don't get any from you!" He yelled back and you grit your teeth.
"Don't forget that while you were out there risking your life, we were right beside you!"
"Oh, so that's what it is, you're jealous that everyone thinks of you as the sidekick!"
"That is so NOT what this is about!"
"Oh really? Because it sounds like you're jealous because you're not getting attention by mooching off of me!"
Your eyes widened in shock. Mooching? Did he seriously think that you risked your life alongside him every day to help other people and more importantly, keep him safe, for attention?
Your body trembled, outraged and you didn't say another word, leaving his house in a rush and slamming the door behind you.
You needed something to hit.
***
Your body pumped with adrenaline and anger, muscles itching to be used as you sauntered through the old and run-down factory with reckless abandon. You briefly wondered whether you should've told Gwen or Kevin you were going there but then decided against it, pride and anger too great.
Any doubts or hesitation you had disappeared when you saw Vulkanus, standing tall and broad in his metal suit. And as per usual, he had his herd of minions doing his physical labour.
"If it isn't the Plumber's sweetheart." He drawled once he noticed you. You didn't bother with the stealth, leaving the door wide open behind you and letting the sunlight seep in. If he knew what was good for him, then this would be over quick.
"Hello Vulkanus." You greeted politely and he rolled his eyes. Of all people, he knew just how misleading your innocence was.
"Where's the cavalry?"
"Just me today." You answered and for a second you were confused by your own confidence. Maybe you were taking this just a little too easy. Oh well, that was another thing you could blame your pig-headed boyfriend for.
"Well then, this is going to be easier than I thought. Hope you said goodbye to your boyfriend, sweetheart." He rasped out and the corner of your mouth twitched into a smirk. Without another word, you raised your arms, feeling the familiar heat of fire in the palm of your hand before chucking it at him.
Just as you knew he would, he sent his minions towards you first. They were embarrassingly unskilled but the problem came in numbers. They swarmed around you like ants and you felt yourself getting irritated at the clicking sound they were making.
Unfortunately for Vulkanus his make-shift factory was right beside a dam which gave you an endless supply of the elements to work with.
Summoning all the water you could manoeuvre, you pulled it into the factory, shattering the windows along with it and flooding the room. It only took a few flicks of your wrist to create a whirlpool in the centre, knocking all the workers off their feet.
You stiffened your hands, curling in your fingers and the temperature dropped, the water solidifying with each second until all of them were encased in ice. Another flick of the wrist had the path clearing between you and Vulkanus, who was still warm.
"You-You're sparing me?" He asked, confused and a dry laugh left you.
"Not at all," You sang, eyes turning dark, "I'm giving you special treatment."
Vulkanus bounded towards you, holding his mallet high and you swiftly dodged, using water on the floor to slide quickly. He crashed into the engine of one of his machines, the fuel tank exploding and spewing fowl smelling petrol onto the floor.
It floated above the level of water and began surrounding both of you.
He once again came at you, letting out a roar and you used the water to sink through the crevices of his suit, freezing it from within and you heard the satisfying sound of his suit cracking.
Just a little more strength and forcing a gust of air through the cracks had it falling apart and his frail body fell out of its metal encasing.
"You'll pay for this! You big bully!"
"Thanks for the fun time today, Vulkanus." You smiled, strutting to the door just as confidently as you came in. Even though your body was burning from the workout and you could barely breathe, you still couldn't get over the high.
Before leaving the building, you turned around to see him still glaring at you from his place on the floor.
"Oh, I should probably free your minions, right?" You commented, eyes flickering between the ones still encased in ice and the floor that was still flooded with water and petrol.
You let out a fake sigh, "I guess I'll be nice today," You winked at Vulkanus, "Thanks for the playdate, sweetheart."
His eyes widened when you blew a kiss to him, watching in fear as you ignited a flare in your palm and blew it towards him before turning around and using the wind to slam the doors behind you. When you were just a few feet away you heard the place blow apart.
Slowly, the adrenaline began melting and the blood rushing through your ears was much more audible. You were panting, tired from the exercise and the thought of calling Kevin to come and pick you up. Or maybe even Ben. You were calm enough now to have a conversation with him.
When you pulled your phone out of your pocket you felt a hand on your shoulder and spun around to meet eyes with Captain Nemesis. For a brief second you were wondering if he was here to invite you to some inane party or even to tell you that Ben was at one.
Although you hardly looked the part, you were sweating and your face was probably red and blotchy.
"Can I help you?" You asked, taking a step back, he was a little too close to you and the look in his eye freaked you out.
"As a matter of fact, you can." He said, "You see I'm arranging a little stunt for Ben Tennyson. An opportunity if you will, to showcase some of his heroism."
You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. The last thing you wanted to do was feed Ben's ego at the moment.
"With all due respect, I don't really think I'm up for a damsel in distress routine right now, Captain, I'd rather just get home. And If you take another step towards me, I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine." You snapped and he backed off obediently, raising his hands in a form of surrender.
"That's too bad." He mused and you turned away from him, intent on walking back home or even calling a cab. Anything to get away from this creep faster.
"Too bad you don't really have a choice."
You felt his hand on your bare shoulder again but before you could even react you felt volts of electricity rush through you. You gasped painfully, feeling fire through your veins before everything started to hurt.
White burned in your vision and colours started to blur together as your eyes filled with tears. Your body crumbled, falling forward and Captain Nemesis caught you.
Right before your consciousness slipped away you heard him say something.
"For your sake, you better hope that Ben Tennyson is as great as those gossip channels make him out to be."
***
When you felt yourself regaining consciousness, you could feel your weight pulling down and also couldn't feel the ground. This had your eyes snapping open, regardless of how dizzy you were and how many dots were in your vision.
You hazily made out the venue, Nemesis Tower, before recognize the blonde woman tied up beside you. It didn't take long before you realized she was tied to the other end of the rope, suspended through mid-air just like you.
This was no doubt going to be some sort of deathly choice.
You noticed when Ben came in, turning into Ultimate Humangasaur. He looked furious, like you've never seen him before and you knew it was because Ben was certain he'd teach him a lesson today.
"Where's (Y/N)." He all but growled and your heart soared. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, everything from before was forgotten.
"Right up there. And so is Jennifer." He replied, still smug despite the way Ben was pining him to the ground by his throat. Ben followed his gaze to meet your eyes and you took a deep breathe, bracing yourself.
A selfish part of you wanted to stay and see what Ben would do, would he save you even though Jennifer was a civilian and world famous?
Even then you figured that you shouldn't risk anyone's life for petty jealousy, so you took a deep breath, blowing it out through your mouth and watching as a gust of wind blew past, the pressure making you swing.
You swung a few feet back, letting your body fall a little before blowing again. Once you gained enough momentum, you looked up to the rope tying the two of you together and spitting fire at it, falling at an angle. You briefly heard Jennifer scream and revelled in her karma for a hot second.
On your way down, you quickly burnt off the rest of the ropes, bringing a pool of water to crystallize into a makeshift slide as you slide on your knees across the floor, just in time to catch Jennifer in your arms.
Your knees stung as they scraped across the concrete and the wind was knocked out of you when the woman fell into your form.
She gasped and her eyes that was screwed shut gently fluttered open. Up close you could understand why everyone was in love with her. Even then you couldn't spare her any concern.
You quickly pushed her out of your arms, noticing Gwen and Kevin staring at you in awe when you stood up. You cracked your knuckles, making your way over to the older man with a scowl.
"For your sake, you better hope that I'm just as weak as you think I am. Spoiler alert, I'm not."
Ben spared a small smile at you but you couldn't feel anything aside from hot fury. You felt water surge beneath your fingers and threw it at him, pulling up a wall of earth to block his blasts.
Your boyfriend immediately began fighting alongside you and your bodies fell into a familiar rhythm. Even though there was a crazed narcissist trying to kill you, you felt safe beside Ben.
It wasn't long before the four of you managed to overpower him, rendering his armour useless until he was defeated, lying pathetically on the ground.
You walked up to him and your lips twisted into an unimpressed frown when you noticed the way he had the audacity to glare at you. Without a second word, you raised your leg and kicked him right between the legs.
"I always keep my promises, Captain."
Kevin began laughing behind you and Ben cringed.
Finally, when you turned to meet Ben, now de-transformed, all the fight left your body and you relaxed. He looked apologetic and you let him approach you.
His arms wrapped around your waist and you leaned into him, breathing the familiar scent of his deodorant and snaking your arms under his jacket to fist his T-shirt.
He sighed into your hair, arms tightening around your body, "I'm sorry. For being an ass to you and saying all those horrible things, I was being an idiot and you deserve an apology."
You didn't move, not pulling away from the way your forehead was pressed against the length of his neck, "Thank you for coming to save me."
"Didn't look like you needed much help." He chuckled and you felt happy hearing the pride in his voice.
"I missed you." You murmured, holding him a little tighter and he turned his head to kiss your forehead gently. And just like that, everything was right in the world. Just as long as you were in each other's arms.
"I love you."
You heard the click of a camera and your head snapped up to see a herd of cameramen and reporters along with a couple of police cars. Ben laughed nervously beside you, "I guess we won't have to worry about another actress coming between us."
You gave him an unimpressed frown and he just smiled, leaning to peck your lips and you heard the crowd of reporters’ gasp and heard the shutters of cameras before they began shouting questions at you.
You pulled away from him when you saw Jennifer Nocturne make her way towards you. You figured she wanted to snuggle up to Ben now that the cameras were filming.
Instead, she walked right up to you, hugging you tightly and your arms flailed pathetically beside her, unsure of what to do, "You saved my life! I don't know how to thank you!"
She pulled away for just a second before pressing a kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in alarm and the shutters began once again and flashes practically blinded you.
"Huh, so that's what that feels like." Ben murmured when she pulled away from you. Kevin was smirking beside him, satisfied that he got a taste of his own medicine and Gwen was just in shock.
Ben felt his stomach turn at the sight of Jennifer’s lipstick on your mouth and you were unsure whether you should feel repulsed or cocky.
But as you wiped the pigment off your lips and curled back into Ben's side you couldn't feel anything other than your burning muscles and your drooping eyelids.
You squinted because of the bright lights, feeling a headache grow as the exhaustion from before crept up on you again. After 2 fights and a kidnapping today, there was nothing more you wanted than a nap.
"Wanna go home?" Your ever observant boyfriend asked just as the nausea started to kick in. You nodded and he guided you away from the reporters to his car.
He gently placed you into the front seat, shielding your head as you got in to prevent you from hitting it against the hood before buckling your seatbelt, watching carefully as you drifted into a sound sleep.
Ben heard everyone behind him swoon as he lovingly placed a kiss to your knuckles and then climbed into the seat beside you, sparing you one last warm glance before starting the car and driving away.
He'd definitely notice the shy smile on your face when you saw that Ben kissing you was on the front page of a magazine.
And you'd notice the jealous scowl he'd have when he saw that Jennifer kissing you was on the front page of another.
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shydragonrider · 3 years
Text
Torn -Chapter 5
Warnings: Blood, panic, anxiety, scars, Lady Whump (In a flashback), reopened wound, stitches, guilt, fear, mentions of torture.
Taglist: @whumpwillow, @equestrianwritingsstuff, @teheranb, @brutal-nemesis, @befuddled-calico-whump, @professional-idiocy, @whumpilicious, and @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19
Pandora had eventually managed to drift off to sleep again, lying on a yoga mat on the floor was not very comfortable, but she was too tired to care.
Of course, a decent night's sleep was too much to ask, and Pandora was woken by something crashing down on top of her.
Her startled cry was drowned out by a heart-wrenching wail of pain.
Pandora scrambled free of the blanket, and managed to turn on her quartz lamp.
The sight that awaited her made her heart twist. 
Damian had his back pressed against the bedframe. He was breathing heavily, clutching his stomach. Pandora winced as she saw that blood was seeping between the gaps in his fingers.
"Hey." She murmured, kneeling beside him.
He shied away with a low groan. 
"Easy, it's just me."
Damian uttered a soft whine of pain, and collapsed forward into her arms. Pandora tentatively rubbed his back, and he dropped his head to her shoulder, sobbing. 
"Ssssshhhhh, ssssshhhhh." Pandora murmured. "It’s going to be okay, sweetheart."
"It hurts." Damian whimpered, and her already aching heart snapped in two.
"I know." Pandora murmured, her voice breaking slightly as she struggled to control her emotions. "Let's get you back onto the bed, so I can have a look at the wound."
Damian didn't protest, just clung to her shirt as she hauled him back onto the bed.
"I'm going to cut the bandages off now, okay?"
Damian shivered, tears streaking his face. He swallowed thickly as Pandora cut the bandages to reveal the badly bleeding wound where the stitches had torn. She gently put her hand on his shoulder, examining the wound. She stripped her bloodstained tank top off, and pressed it over the wound in an effort to slow the bleeding. She was to concerned to feel awkward to be seen with only a sports bra and shorts by her nemesis.
His face seemed to go even paler, and he whimpered quietly. 
“Sssshhh, I know.” Pandora told him. “I’m going to clean this and then… I’ll have to restitch it, okay? It’s too big for me to tape.”
Damian gritted his teeth, but was unable to stifle the choked cry of pain. 
“I know, I’m sorry.” Pandora was saying, as she painstakingly cleaned the wound. Damian closed his eyes, grimacing as she began to prepare the stitches. She pulled a strange looking canister out of the medical kit.
“This is a numbing spray, okay? You won’t feel pain, just pressure.”
Damian closed his eyes, flinching slightly as the cold spray coated his stomach.
“It’s chilly, I know.”
As she began to suture the wound, she offered him a forced smile.
“I do a much neater job on you than I do on myself.” Her smile was very forced, and Damian realized that she, unlike him, was always alone. She had to do everything herself, whereas he’d had henchmen before. 
His gaze dropped the the scar on her ribs. It was even worse than Damian had thought. Around an inch wide, and starting at the front of her rib cage, and following the curve of her flank, ending at the edge of her back.
It was a miracle that it hadn’t killed her.
It was supposed to though. Damian thought, feeling nausea rise in his throat. I was furious that it didn’t. I really thought I’d fatally wounded her that time.
Pandora gently coaxed him into sitting up, and rebandaged his torso. Damian shuddered, and sank into her arms, his desperation for comfort overwhelming his anxiety.
Pandora said nothing, just wrapped her arms around him, and let him tuck his head under her jaw.
Damian couldn’t stop the tears. He made a pitiful blubbering noise, and Pandora hushed him gently, rubbing his back soothingly.
He could feel her heartbeat, the steady thump inside her chest. It was soothing for him to listen to, which was ironic, given the amount of times he’d tried to end her life.
Then, softly, Pandora began to sing. Her voice was low and melodic, slightly husky. Exhausted, Damian closed his eyes, and let her voice lull him back into sleep.
Pandora gently eased the injured supervillain back to the bed, trying not to think of how badly the stitches had torn. How awful the wound had been, gaping open, a red chasm in his muscular abdomen.
Shuddering, Pandora looked down at the scar on her side, the one that had come so close to killing her.
The memory of how it had happened was still fresh.
She’d been wrestling on the ground, trying to capture Damian, when he’d pulled out one of his special custom blades, and held it to her side. Pandora had gone still, looking down into his blue eyes, glittering with malice behind his black mask. A wicked smirk had crossed his lips, and he’d slashed her side without a second’s hesitation.
Adrenaline had surged through her, and she’d frantically kneed him in the groin, before stumbling out into the streets in a blind panic.
She’d used her ruined jacket to try and stop the bleeding. Once she’d gotten home, she’d gotten out of her equipment, wrapped her side in towels, and called an ambulance, saying that she’d been attacked on her way home.
She’d woken up in the hospital the next day, with her frantic mother sitting next to her.
It had been six weeks before she’d been able to go home.
But looking at Damian, he’d gone through worse. She didn’t know the details, nor did she want to, but she doubted that they’d left him alone after cutting his abdomen like that.
She shuddered to think of it.
And I can hardly believe that he’s the same person. She thought, brushing his damp hair off his scorching forehead.
There’s no sign of that fearsome supervillain anymore. He’s just broken, none of that insufferable arrogance. He hasn’t even mocked me for being a bleeding heart.
It was so hard for her to stay close to him, and when he’d snuggled into her, she’d been unsure of how to react. But it was easier than she would have thought to sit by his side and comfort him. Because she was less afraid of him now.
Even after all he’d put her through.
But I don’t think he’s going to hurt anyone ever again. After all he’s been through, he deserves a second chance.
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jobean12-blog · 4 years
Text
Surrender
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader
Word Count: 674
Summary: Steve’s been gone on a mission for a week. He returns home and you want him to know how much you missed him. 
Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ce-horniest-book-club​ Kinktober celebration and day 16 (Oct 16th)- Dom character/sub reader. Went with nomad Steve because HELLO! He can dom me up anyday hehe. Enjoy! Thank you for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤
Warnings: Dom/sub dynamic, light bondage, light smut-oral, dirty talk, teasing, Steve with the hair and beard... ;)
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HBC Kinktober Masterlist
Steve’s voice booms down the hall, his frustration with the new recruits over the latest mission loud and clear. You couldn’t wait to see him; it had been almost a week, but you knew he had to handle the debriefing right away. That didn’t stop you from letting him know how excited you were that he was home…
His phone vibrates along the tabletop, everyone in the room wide eyed and nervous as they try to listen and ignore the annoying buzzing sound. Steve slams his hand down over the phone, grabbing it up and unlocking it. “Fuck,” he growls out, adrenaline and exasperation coursing through him and now something far more powerful.
“Debriefing is over for now. Next time I expect your best or there won’t be a second chance.” He walks out, or rather stalks down the hallway like a predator hunting his prey. You hear his heavy footsteps and know he received your text.
The door to your room flies open, nearly falling off the hinges, “where are you baby girl.” You run out of the bedroom and fling yourself at him, wrapping your legs around his waist and combing your fingers through his hair. He crashes his lips to yours, devouring them in a dominant kiss that nearly overwhelms you.
When he finally pulls away, you’re back in the bedroom, his large body holding you against the door, “did you think sending me that picture was cute?” You roll your hips into him, his suit creating just the right amount of friction. “I missed you Steve,” you pout, rubbing over him again. “Why don’t you show me how much baby?”
He releases you, stepping back and starting to unbuckle his stealth suit. You can barely stand upright as you watch, his body uncovered slowly as each article of clothing falls to the floor. “Steve,” you whisper, inching closer to him. He extends his arm and wraps a hand around your throat, gently pushing you back toward the wall. “I don’t think so baby girl. You’ll get to touch when I say so.”
Without removing his hand, he instructs you to take off your clothes, only releasing his grip when necessary. Once you’re bare before him he ghosts his fingertips between your breasts, his touch soft despite the hungry look in his eyes. Your body shivers and you make a strangled noise when those long, thick fingers stop between your legs.
Your hand reaches out to wrap around his hard cock, but he bats it away, narrowing his eyes at you, “what did I say?” You whimper and let your legs fall open, his fingers now gliding through your soaking folds, “you’re soaked baby, were you like this every night without me?” Your head rolls to the side and you buck your hips, wanting his fingers inside you. “Please, Steve. I need you.”
Taking his fingers away he licks them clean, grinning when you give him an “how dare you” look. “You’re delicious baby. I want a taste. Get on the bed.” He smacks your ass hard when you turn away, soothing it quickly by massaging the soft flesh. You stand at the edge, waiting as he picks up one of the buckles from his suit.
“Hands behind your back sweetheart.” You do as he says, placing your hands right above your ass. He takes the buckle and wraps it around your wrists several times, tightening it and helping you onto the bed. He lays down, crooking his finger so you straddle his waist. You instinctively rock your hips over his length and coat him in your arousal.
He grabs your hips and digs his fingers into the delicate skin, “that’s not where I want you yet baby.” Sliding down the pillows he positions his face between your legs, squeezing your ass while he kisses the inside of your thighs. You try to bring your hips down, but he holds you firmly in place just above his mouth, teasing you. “You’ll get what you want baby girl. When I say so.”
@addikted-2-dopamine​ @bugsbucky​ @book-dragon-13​ @buckys-henley​ @breezy1415​ @bisousbucky​ @chuuulip​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @hawksmagnolia​ @ikaris-whore​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @lorilane33​ @lokilvrr​ @lookiamtrying​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @loricameback​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @hannahshattuck​ @sallycanwait68​ @theycallmebecca​ @tuiccim​ @the-wayward-robot​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @survivor-reborn​ @yansi1923​ @donutloverxo​ @tales-of-spring​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @saiyanprincessswanie​
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hawkinsindiana · 4 years
Text
i don’t want you to worry
ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER ONE OF ELEVEN (?)
pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader
word count: 3.8k
a/n: six months later, here’s part three! i’m not gonna lie to y’all, i have no idea how many chapters there are gonna be or if it’ll get updated regularly, but fuck it. i’ve been sitting on this for a while and figured we could use a bit of levity! thank you for your patience! hope you enjoy! lmao i didn’t feel like making a gif pls forgive me
masterlist
Fog is hovering just above the ground; you can practically feel how thick and wet it is against your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck all stand as a gust of wind flows through the air - the freezing temperature makes you shiver.
The ground is wet, squelching underneath your sneakers as you move forward, still uncertain of where you are; the environment’s been completely coated in the dense fog. When your surroundings finally begin to clear a bit, your heart starts to race in fear once you recognize where you are. 
It’s the junkyard.
“Stay close, yeah?” 
The voice sounds like it’s right inside your ear, but at least he’s here - you’d recognize him anywhere.
Steve’s to your left, bat slung effortlessly over his shoulder, and his presence helps calm your nerves. You won’t have to face this alone. 
You want to thank him before the situation gets any worse, but your mouth won’t cooperate. All you’re able to reply with is a nod. 
Suddenly, the palm of your hand feels heavy with the weight of your weapon; Steve presses on, moving through the space to approach the threat that lurks beyond. A form begins to take shape behind the grey clouds, hunched down on all fours as it stalks towards your position. Your fingers tense as you prepare to fight and adrenaline begins to overtake you, until the silhouette rises onto two legs. It’s not supernatural, it’s human. 
You want to call out to Steve, tell him to fall back because it’s too dangerous but your voice still doesn’t work - you can’t warn him what’s coming. The soles of your shoes dig into the ground as you run to catch up with him, fingers extended out to grab and yank him away. 
But it’s too late. One moment he’s right there in front of you, the next he’s gone, vanished right before your eyes. You blink.
On the ground, Steve’s in the dirt, blood spilling from his face; Billy Hargrove quickly approaches.
And then, it’s just like that night. You’re unable to move, unable to save him as Steve tries to fight back but Billy’s too quick. His crimson colored fists are tearing skin with each impact until the brunette boy on the ground is lifeless, as if all warmth was drained right from him. Billy’s twisted grin never falters as he relishes in your pain, tears streaming down your face until-
You wake with a gasp, body jolting, hands shaking. 
God, it feels so real, like you’re still there; your nose can smell the disgusting metallic scent from the blood, skin still chilled from the temperature, veins still threaded with adrenaline. 
That was only a dream… right?
As soon as that thought is introduced to your worried mind, you throw off the covers before grabbing the nearest hoodie off the bed post. Tugging it over your head, your bare feet skid across the hardwood floor as you rush to the phone in the living room. 
Your fingers are trembling as you press the buttons of the number; you have to know if he’s okay. You have to confirm it was just a dream.
“Fuck, Steve,” You start to mutter to yourself, counting the rings to attempt to steady your breathing, “Come on, pick up, pick up.” 
The longer it takes, the more nervous you become. The darkness that surrounds you starts to close in, and when you squeeze your eyes shut, the image of him bloodied and lying dead in the dirt haunts you. 
“I swear to Christ - Dustin, if that’s you and those bozos again, I’ll come kick your ass myself,” Steve’s voice, tired and very irritated, comes through the speaker.
“Steve! Oh my god-” The back of your throat starts to burn at the feeling of tears welling up; the relief crashes over you in a wave, “Are you okay? Where are you?”
“What? Jesus-” He pauses, his tone softens once he hears it’s you, “Why wouldn’t I be okay? It’s nearly-”
Steve stops again; you reckon it’s to glance at the time.
“Shit, sweetheart it’s nearly two in the morning, what’s goin’ on?”
You sigh, finally realizing that you must’ve awoken him, “Fuck I just-”
The phone is gripped tighter in your hands as you speak, “I really just needed to know that you're okay. It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry-“
“No, no it’s okay-”
“But I-”
“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me,” Steve’s reassurance helps to slow your pounding heart; he’s okay. He’s safe at home. 
There’s nothing to worry about anymore.
You repeat that to yourself multiple times, whispering it to yourself under your breath. At this point, you think that you’d do anything to forget that night. 
Your back slides down the wall as your body grows exhausted from the severe reaction; Steve’s voice continues through the phone, “Did something happen?”
“I had-” You force a deep breath through your lungs, face scrunching in fear at the memory, “I had a really bad dream, Steve.”
Your arm wraps around your knees to pull them into your chest, forehead coming down to meet them and dig into the soft material of your pants, “I woke up and fuck, I was so scared. I was so scared and all I could think to do was call you. And I’m all alone. I’m all by myself tonight and I hate that I can’t be alone anymore. And I haven’t slept through the night in weeks-”
“Weeks? What do you mean weeks? I mean - I knew you weren’t sleeping well right after, but Christ it’s been nearly two months!”
You curse at yourself for rambling, words suddenly escaping your mind as you hesitate to respond. With your silence, Steve huffs; you can imagine the disappointment and worry over his face, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
You bite down on your lip before answering, only letting up on the pressure when the taste of blood touches your tongue; you’re ashamed of the answer, “I don’t know… I’m sorry, Steve.”
All you feel is guilt in the moments that follow. Something like this… dreams about him dying in front of your eyes isn’t something that should be kept from him. 
“Hey,” Steve’s soft tone reels you back in, “You call me whenever you have to. I’ll always pick up, okay?”
You exhale as you nod, before remembering that he can’t see your reaction through the phone, “Okay, yeah. Thank you.”
“Of course, anytime. Are you okay?” 
You weave the phone cord between your fingers, “I’m better now. Uh, I’ll let you go then.”
“Okay. Try to get some rest, for my sake,” Steve pleads. You twist the cord tighter, “I will.” 
He sighs at your oath, finally able to relax a bit more, “Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight, if it’s too much. Or if you’re tired… ” 
You hum at his words, head leaning back against the wall. A smile creeps over your lips at his consideration, wishing that you could thank him in person for his words, “No, no let’s do something. It’ll be good for me.” 
He laughs a bit; even with how horrible the quality might be through the receiver, it still makes your stomach flutter with butterflies, “Okay, good. I’ll see you tonight. Get some sleep.”
“I’ll try, Steve.”
After wishing him a good night, you place the phone back onto it’s base. Standing up on wobbly legs, a shaky exhale leaves your lungs when your fingers remove themselves from the smooth plastic. The image of him is still there when you blink.
Fuck - you should’ve told him.
Three taps against the window pane startle you awake. Rubbing your eyes as you sit up, you check the time - you were only able to finally fall asleep twenty minutes ago. Anxiety starts to creep over the back of your neck - until you see the culprit. 
“Jesus…” You mutter to yourself. You can’t help the small smile that erupts over your face at the sight of Steve, fingers nervously drumming on the window sill. His expression relaxes a bit once you come over, and you’re already rolling your eyes as you move to pull it open.
“You know that I’m the only one home, right?” 
Steve nods, not following your logic, “Yeah? And?”
“You could’ve just come to the door, Steve.”
The boy in front of you shifts at your words; his retort stutters as he tries to come up with an excuse, “Okay, alright. But you know, I didn’t want to scare you or anything!”
You step back to cross your arms over your chest, “And coming to my window while I sleep seems a whole lot better to you?”
“Alright whatever, Henderson,” He answers quickly, waving off your tone, “Will you just let me in already?”
You gesture for Steve to enter, laughing quietly to yourself as he does. As soon as he’s crawled his way through the opening, you latch and lock the window closed. He huffs, “You have no idea how thrilled I am that your house only has one floor.”
“Did you drive across the neighborhood just to scare me?” You ignore him, pulling the cord on the lamp by your bedside. The light illuminates the worry on his face.
“No, I just-” Steve pauses as he fiddles with his keys, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. I had to know you were okay.”
You nod, crossing your arms over your chest once again, “Y-yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Steve’s brow raises at your deflection, “Um, did we not have the same conversation over the phone?”
“We did,” Your answer is laced with a bit of aggression, “You didn’t need to come all the way over here, okay? I’m fine now-”
“But are you?” Steve interrupts. His voice is genuine, soft, and you want to spill everything because he has that look in his eye; you’re not sure you can push him away forever.
“Of course, Steve-”
“Don’t lie to me,” Steve puts more force behind his words - it’s like a demand. He takes a few steps closer, “Please don’t lie to me.”
Hearing Steve plead with you like that makes your heart shatter. It’s killing him to watch you stand before him like this. He’s known you long enough to know when something’s not right, and he’s gotten especially good at reading you over the past few weeks. And by the way your jaw clenches, Steve knows you’re about to crack.
A shaky inhale comes through your lips; you have to tell him something. But how much?
“I just… I don’t want you to worry,” You mutter. Your voice is just above a whisper, although it doesn’t matter; it’s not like there’s anyone home to overhear. You’re scared to admit there’s something wrong. He shouldn’t have to do this for you.
Steve almost laughs. He runs his free hand through his hair, “It’s like, a year too late for that, you know.” 
You sigh, realizing that he’s absolutely right. Of course he should worry, especially with how vague the conversation over the phone was. Letting him in is something that you’ll have to get used to.
Even though you’d been friends for a while, it was always more about him than you. You always wanted to be there for him, if he ever needed anything, how he was doing. It’s something neither of you understood was happening until your relationship became more; it was no one’s fault. 
All of a sudden, Steve realized just how much you’ve done for him - he’s wanted to return the favor. And this… is all new to you; you’re not used to someone checking in. 
“Oh god, you’re right,” You mumble under your breath. Your hands come up to cover your eyes in shame as you continue, “I’m sorry, Steve. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
Witnessing your sudden change in mood, Steve moves towards you; he sets his keys down on your nightstand as he does. He goes to reach for you, pulling your body into his, “Hey hey, it’s okay, it’s fine.”
He wishes he could come up with something better to say. You’ve always been better with words than him. You’re better at a lot of things than him. But he’s trying - he’s trying to be better to be worthy of you.
Your arms wrap tightly around him once Steve’s pressed against you. He smells like freshly washed cotton, like pulling sheets from the dryer when they’re still warm.
It’s all so overwhelming, it makes you want to cry. You feel like you should, but the familiar burn behind your eyes never comes. Instead, you resume speaking.
“I guess I just…” You trail off, wanting to give him a reason - he deserves one.
Your fist knots the fabric of his tee; Steve’s palm slides up over your back, “I’m just not used to leaning on others for help. I’m trying to get used to it.”
“Sometimes it’s okay,” Steve’s reply is muffled by your hair. He ponders what to add, lips pressed into a firm line as he thinks, “Sometimes you gotta do stuff on your own and sometimes you need somebody else. That’s just how life works.”
Your chest heaves as you sigh at the weight of his words, this moment cements a single fact inside your brain - you won’t plan on hiding anything from him.
Well, except for that one thing. You’re still not ready to admit that to him yet. 
You wish that pulling away didn’t mean losing his warmth; but his gentle eyes meeting yours mimics a feeling like it that fills your chest. 
“You can lean on me, you know,” Steve says, and the smile that was already pulling at your lips widens even farther. And then he nudges you - his mouth curls into that stupid smirk of his, “However you want.”
You crack a laugh, accompanied by a roll of your eyes, “Yes, I know. Sometimes I just need a little reminder."
Suddenly, you remember just how lucky you are to have him. How fortunate you are to have him there to brighten your darkest moments, even if he’s sometimes battling his own demons at the same time. 
“Thank you,” You say, bringing your gaze back to meet Steve’s again. He nods slightly, tone genuine and soft as he answers, “Of course. Anytime.”
The pads of your fingers graze over his cheekbone before tucking a strand of brunette hair behind his ear; Steve shivers a bit at the gentle touch before you meet his lips in a kiss.
He still gets a bit nervous each time, only because this feels so much more different than the others. The level of comfort and security he feels when you’re in the room was never there before he met you. Like really met you.
And you - well, you’re still so overwhelmed that you finally, after all that time, get to be with the one you love - you feel like you could jump out of your skin with joy. You’ve treasured every single moment, because it’s never been lost on you how it all could be taken away in an instant.
The brilliant grin you two share after pulling away shakes it all from your mind. Your fingers move to grip his hands in yours; you just like being able to do it, even if it is in the privacy of your own bedroom.
But then that feeling settles in your stomach, the one that doesn’t go away until morning. The dread that something’s going to happen. Steve can sense your growing anxiety - it’s almost like the air surrounding you changes. Leaving you now, something about that doesn’t sit right with him.
“I’ll uh, stay if you want.”
He mentions the idea quietly because, well, you’re not officially together. But to be fair, he hasn’t asked - but neither have you. Even though your hands are still in his, pressing into his skin, Steve finds it important to ask and make sure you’re on the same page.
You can’t lie - the idea of Steve spending the night makes you a little nervous. Although, knowing that you’re safe with each other might just be the push you need to relax. And with that thought, you’re stepping away from him, “Okay. Yeah, sure.”
The doorknob is so cold against your skin as you exit to grab an extra pillow from the closet in the hallway. The darkness of the living room seems to go on forever; it almost feels like something’s creeping up your neck once your back is turned to it.
After quickly shutting the door once you’re back inside, you turn around to see Steve, perched silently on top of your comforter - his presence warms the entire room, bringing life and love into it.
He hasn’t spent that much time in this space; he’s trying to take everything in, because it’s very reflective of you. There are neat piles of VHS tapes and comics on top of the dresser, a closet dominated with dark colors and sneakers, and some of your well worn denim tossed over the desk chair.
But his eye catches on a stack of photographs on the desk’s surface, and he’s halfway across the room before you can interject. You clutch the pillow a little tighter to your chest as Steve flips through them, laughing at one of you and Dustin from a few years ago at Christmas wearing matching pajamas.
He spins to show it to you, “I’m never gonna let him live this down.”
You approach his side when he finds another one of you as a child, playing with a cake battered spatula in your previous house. Baby curls framed your face, and your eyes were wide with adventure and wonder, “Holy shit, look at you!”
“I don’t know why I remember that day so much,” You mutter.
Steve’s silence pushes you to continue, “It was Mom’s birthday, and my grandparents baked her a cake - double chocolate I think. I wasn’t tall enough to reach but I wanted to help so badly. So they sat me on top of the counter and let me mix everything. They even let me tell her that I made it.”
You laugh quietly before the memory turns cold in your mind, and your wistful smile turns to a slight frown, “I haven’t seen them since we moved here.”
Steve isn’t even looking at the picture anymore. He listened to every word that left your mouth; you don’t speak much about the rest of your family. Instead of trying to probe further, he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, a gentle and silent reminder of his support.
This feels strange. Opening up to him like that, making yourself that vulnerable - that’s a level of intimacy you haven’t explored quite yet. At least not with him… or anyone really.
Thankfully, it hasn’t seemed to scare him off. If anything, Steve’s more relaxed. He likes knowing how you feel.
Steve flips through the others while you rest your chin on his shoulder, your eyes intently watch his reaction to each one - you think you could stay in this moment forever.
And then he comes across one - an image of you and the kids on Halloween a few years back all dressed like Jedi. He pauses on it, “When do you think we should tell them?”
A sharp inhale comes through your nostrils at his comment; you hadn’t thought about that.
In all your bliss, you had completely forgotten - no one else knows. Not even your brother.
“Oh God, Steve-” You start, removing yourself from him, “I don’t even know how we would do that.”
“What are you talking about?” Steve replies, turning back to meet your gaze, “We just… tell them. It’s not rocket science.”
You squeeze your eyes shut as you answer, clenching the pillow a bit tighter in your grasp, “It’s really not that simple with them, Steve. You know that. And honestly, I still feel like I’m trying to figure out how to do all this.”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair, knowing just how messy involving the kids could make your relationship, “I’ve kinda liked it just being about us. You know, we’re together because we wanna be, it’s not for anyone else. And trust me, they’ll have so many opinions-”
“So let’s keep it to ourselves then,” Steve interjects, shrugging his shoulders a bit as he answers, “We’ll tell ‘em when we think it’s right, when we’re sure if this is serious or not.”
You hated keeping your feelings for him a secret. You hated that you were never able to tell him, but this is different. The idea sends a rush of excitement through your veins, you can’t deny it.
He smiles a bit and sets the photos down before continuing, “I know it might be too early to tell, but I feel like this could last, you know.”
You feel blood rise into your cheeks when he looks at you like that - irises filled to the brim with admiration. His hands come up to cup your face as you reply, “Me too.”
Steve leans in to drink a slow kiss from your lips, the kind that leaves you breathless when it’s over.
“Good,” He mutters, earning a small grin from you. Steve takes the pillow out of your grasp, “What do you say we try and get a couple hours of sleep in? I guess Dustin wants to go to the arcade before lunch.”
You laugh, pushing your hair back away from your face as you answer, “I will never be able to get used to that, I’m sorry.”
Steve tosses the pillow onto the empty spot on the mattress while you pull back the comforter. The bed dips as you both settle under the covers; Steve’s arm starts to slide over your waist before stopping abruptly, “Is this okay?”
You clear your throat, “Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”
The darkness washes over the room after you pull the cord to the lamp; it doesn’t feel as scary with Steve lying behind you. His touch stops your mind from wandering as it so often does - it can’t concoct anything to torment you with.
That being said, the sight from the earlier nightmare does appear behind your eyelids when you blink.
“It was about you,” You mutter, “The dream.”
It’s spoken before you can stop yourself. You instantly regret it, due to the lack of a reply that follows.
But then Steve tugs you closer, and you feel like you could melt against him. He tucks his nose right underneath the base of your hairline, deeply inhaling as you relax into him.
“I’m sorry,” He mumbles against your skin; your fingers curl around his as a quiet thank you.
Steve thinks that this is probably what home is supposed to feel like - warm clothes, the scent of your shampoo, a comfortable silence to lull you both to sleep. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more comfortable.
And for the first time in what feels like forever, the pair of you have finally found a bit of peace.
taglist: @stevebabey / @mrsukai / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @hellisateenageheather / @alewifex / @l0ve-0f-my-life / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @asianravenpuff / @im-a-stranger-thing​ / @mikariell95​ / @pilunb​ / @harringtherin​ / @royalestrellas​ / @ultrunning​ / @buggs177 / @poutfull​ / @yoheyyosup​ / @duchessdaisybat​ / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury​ / @beththebubbly​ / @i-bitch-you-bitch​ / @captainstilinskis​ / @juliebean247​ / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender​ / @rexorangecouny​ / @pass-me-jeez-it / @ahoy-scoops-troop / @halefirewarrior​ / @jointhehunt67 / @wallacetdog​ / @ketchuplukehemmo​ / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x​ / @elite4cekalyma​ / @marjoherbo​ / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass​ / @alafolieee​ / @mochminnie​ / @phantomalchemist​ / @dustyblueboo​ / @alonewolfsblog​ / @ggclarissa​ / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​ / @bippityboppitybabe​ / @readinthegarden12​ / @bakugouishusbando
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mellowswriting · 3 years
Text
Meaning Found
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pairing || Poe Dameron x Reader
summary || Sometimes it takes a crash and the fear that your best friend is dead to finally admit that you love his stupid ass.
word count || 3,466
warnings || language, allusions to sex, minor injuries, lots of teenage makeout sessions lmao
a/n || I rewatched the sequel trilogy and was reminded of my intense love of Poe Dameron, so this kind of just... happened. My first Poe fic, too, so I tried to nail his sarcastic, teasing personality but I don’t know how well I did. Let me know what you think!
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“Poe?” You called out, your hands cupped around your mouth in a vain attempt to amplify your voice through the trees. “Poe, where are you?!”
It had been hours since you crashed on this godforsaken planet, the smell of smoke and overheated metal rousing you from your unconscious state. The first thing you noticed after the awful smell was pain. Your calf was killing you, the pain radiating up through your entire leg from a long gash that thankfully wasn’t bleeding too badly. It just hurt like a bitch.  
Panic lanced through you when you realized your hot-headed pilot was nowhere to be seen. There wasn’t a single trace of him. No blood, no tattered clothes, no nothing. He was just gone. Fear thickened in your throat like glue, your lungs seizing under the weight of it. Still, you busied yourself with fixing what was left of the radio. Poe would be pissy if he came back and you hadn’t at the very least gotten a distress signal to the Resistance.
When he came back.
Poe would be back.
But then the radio was repaired and you managed to salvage some supplies from the wreckage of your precious ship - and Poe still wasn’t back. Enough was enough, you decided. Forget your fucked up leg, your pilot was out there somewhere, possibly in worse shape than you and in desperate need of help. So you found a branch that had been ripped from its tree when your ship met its untimely demise and tucked it under your arm in a makeshift crutch and got to hiking.
It was way more painful than you had expected. Each step had a sharp stab of fire-like pain bringing a wince to your face, but it seemed like the longer you walked, the more your body grew acquainted with the wound. It still hurt like hell, but the worry for Poe was far greater. The further you went, the more you really began regretting the choice to come on this mission. Your presence wasn't even entirely necessary - it was a damn supply drop for Maker’s sake. But when Leia herself asked you to have Poe’s back (and keep his pretty little ass out of trouble), you couldn’t very well say no.
Boy, was she going to get an earful if you got back.
When. When you got back.
“Poe, you shithead!” You screamed, your voice echoing off of the trees even through the rain. “I’m gonna leave your ass here, I swear! Where are you?!”
You barely heard it, the sound of his voice calling out your name. Hope lit in your chest, burning hotter than the pain that was now entirely forgotten as you took off through the trees, expertly dodging branches and raised roots as you went. His name fell from your lips over and over, hope falling away into relief when you realized his voice was growing closer.
The sight of Poe Dameron always took your breath away - not that you would ever admit that. It didn't matter when, it didn't matter the circumstance. He was too pretty for his own good, all sharp angles and dashing smiles. Even when you were at your grumpiest, usually as you sipped your coffee during morning briefings that always felt earlier than the last, his presence eased the heaviness that plagued your shoulders.
This time, it was infinitely more intense. Maybe it was the desperate way he crashed through the treeline. Maybe it was the huge grin that broke out across his face when he locked eyes with you. Maybe it was the way his arms immediately opened to embrace you and lift you from the ground, disbelieving laughter rumbling through his chest. Whatever it was, it had tears building in your eyes. For a moment, everything else was forgotten. The two of you weren’t stranded without a functional ship, you weren’t filled with fear and adrenaline, there wasn’t a painful gash in your leg. You were just in the arms of the one person who could make this whole shitshow a little bit better.
Out of nowhere, your relief gave way to fear. Sharp, debilitating, all-encompassing fear. You could have lost him. Poe could have died, or you could have died, and you wouldn’t have told him - fuck, he never would have known. Holy shit.
“Did you really have to call me a shithead, though?” Poe laughed as he put you down, his eyes sparkling with amusement. The gasp you let out when your feet touched the ground had that amusement disappearing, though. “Shit, what happened? How bad is it?”
“No, no, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” You managed through the heaviness that clamped around your throat. Poe didn’t believe a single word that came out of your mouth, obvious by the way he sighed and shook his head. He ignored your protests and the way you slapped at his shoulders when he quite literally scooped you up. “Fuck, Poe, I said I’m fine -”
“You’re bleeding, you aren’t fine.” He gruffed out, readjusting his grip at your knees carefully. “Which way is the ship?”
The standoff only lasted a few moments, the both of you glaring at each other and waiting - Poe waiting for you to at least nod in a direction and you waiting for Poe’s dramatic ass to put you down. Of course, Poe won. When didn’t he? All it took was the jerk of your chin and Poe set off, grunting every now and then with the effort.
“You aren’t hurt, are you?” You whispered a few moments later. That fear was still rolling in your stomach. No matter how hard you tried to swallow it down, it still threatened to choke you up.
“C’mon, sweetheart, you know me. I’m tough as nails.” Poe laughed. He cleared his throat quietly when he saw the tears still gathered in your eyes. “Seriously, I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”
The endearing term made your heart flutter. Pet names fell from Poe’s lips like second nature, you were used to it. Blame the leftover adrenaline, but this time it hit differently, right in your chest. Without thinking, you reached up and brushed his sweat-dampened curls back from his forehead gently, careful not to accidentally tug with all the jostling as he carried you. Your lower lip trembled. “We could’ve died.”
“I know.” Poe’s eyes hardened. “I know, I’m so sorry.”
“Poe, it wasn’t your fault.” You chastised gently, your fingers automatically carding through his hair and gently untangling it. He leaned into your touch slightly and a small smile graced your lips. “You couldn’t have known this would happen.”
“You told me to take the northern route, I should’ve listened -”
“Come on.” You sighed. Always so hard on himself, this one. “I literally argue with you about everything. That’s what we do, you dork. There’s no actual difference between the north route and the west route and we both know that.”  
“Yeah, yeah.” Poe smiled softly down at you and your breath caught in your throat again. Damn it. The man really was gorgeous, even with the guilt that still lingered on his face.
“I wasn’t bitching at you or trying to say you got us into this, okay? I… I just realized that you… fuck, Poe.” Words failed you. Or rather, you failed your words. They were there. They had been there from the very beginning, but the overwhelming fear of losing his friendship choked the words from you time and time again.
You didn’t even realize you were back at the wreckage of your ship, too in your head to pay attention to the world around you. Poe set you down gently in the grass, apologizing quietly when you hissed in pain. Now that you weren’t adrenaline soaked and desperate to find him, your body was all too happy to let the pain flare back up.
“Let me get the bacta from the med kit,” Poe murmured, leaving your side for just a moment. He seemed just as anxious as you were, the idea of being apart making both your stomachs turn. Even just a few moments, even just a few feet of distance, it was too much. Poe kneeled at your side and easily tore the remainder of your pants from your calf, the comfortable material now only reaching just above your knee.
Cleaning the gash was no walk in the park, but the moment the bacta touched your inflamed, angry skin, you sighed. That shit was magic, no doubt about it. Nonetheless, Poe was still careful as he wrapped your calf, his every touch slow and gentle and the memory of the last time the two of you were like this bubbled to the forefront on your mind. The roles were reversed, of course, because it was almost always Poe making daringly stupid choices and ending up wounded, but you had been so scared of making the blaster wound to his shoulder worse that your hands shook.
There had been a gentle trust in his eyes when Poe reassured you that he was okay, that you would do just great. His normally confident voice became meek as he whispered that you were the only one he trusted to fix him up, so you better get to it. That was Poe. Always trying to cover up vulnerable moments with humor. But that sparkle of humor was nowhere to be found as he settled himself next to you. Hell, he could barely keep eye contact with you.
“What...what did you realize?” Poe whispered. Something in the way he was looking at you told you that he knew already, fear and hope and anticipation all plain on his face. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, something you had come to recognize as a nervous habit.
You drew in a deep breath, steadying yourself against the racing of your heart and the excitement that buzzed through your veins. It lit you up from the inside out, the very idea of finally, fucking finally, saying the words you had been itching to say for far too long. “I realized that we could’ve died before I told you how much I love you.”
Poe let out a shaky breath, those full lips parting and closing around words that couldn't seem to find their way into existence. A fleeting moment of panic wound its way through your chest at the idea that you had misread this whole thing, constricting your lungs in a vice-hold that threatened to choke the life out of you, but it was washed away by the sudden press of his lips against yours. On the many occasions you imagined what it would be like to kiss Poe Dameron, you envisioned it to be all teeth and gasping passion, but the reality was so much better than anything else your brain could have dreamed up.
Poe kissed you like you were the most precious thing he had ever had the privilege of holding in his hands. Your eyes fluttered closed the moment his lips brushed yours, a soft and reverent touch that pulled a wrecked sound from him. He leaned back, breaking the gentle embrace of your lips to study your face. There was a small crease between his eyebrows where he had them furrowed and you couldn't help but reach up to rub at the space with your thumb.
The smile that broke across his face was brighter than any sun in the galaxy and he pulled you to him. The second kiss was more confident, something you never thought Poe Dameron could be more of. The warmth of his tongue sliding along your bottom lip made a rough shudder slither down your spine and his hand at your cheek buried itself in your hair to tilt your head. The new angle let him press even closer to you and the quiet moan it drew from him had you practically giddy, excitement singing through your entire body. Somehow your hands found the collar of his shirt, your body moving instinctually as if it was commonplace, as if your body knew exactly how to move with his.
“I love you.” Poe whispered against your lips, pulling away just far enough to rest his forehead against yours. He kissed you again, a short one just shy of a peck. “I guess we’re both idiots, huh? Could’ve had you for so long if I had just said something.”
“You can have me now if you stop talking.” You teased and Poe grinned. It was a grin you had seen countless times, but this time it felt almost new. Like you were able to appreciate that pretty smile of his in a new light. “Kiss me again, flyboy.”
An almost wild groan rumbled through Poe’s chest and he did just that. Poe kissed and kissed and kissed you until you were both left with swollen lips and goofy grins. Neither of you could get enough, like you had been drowning and were finally up for air. There was nothing else that mattered. Not the slow establishment of peace and control that Leia had managed to bestow upon the galaxy. Not the sudden shifting of goals after the success of the Resistance. Not the sudden floundering for meaning.
Everything you were searching for, the meaning of it all post-war…
It was found in each other.
“Wait, did you radio anyone?” Poe asked suddenly, those pretty brown eyes blinking up at you inquisitively.
“What?” You were a bit dazed from the feeling of his tongue expertly taking you apart. It took your mind a second to remember how to process words.  “Uh, yeah, Leia sent Rey out to get us.”
“How long ago?”
“...Seriously? That’s what you’re thinking about right now.” You motioned between your chests, an eyebrow raised. Poe just stared at you expectantly and you sighed. He would wait there until the Falcon landed right next to you with his stubbornness. “Like three hours ago. Why?”
That devilish smirk reappeared like it never left. “Just wanted to know how much longer I get to have you like this.”
Heat creeped up your neck at the implication. “Maker, you are so annoying.”
Poe bit at his bottom lip and for a mere second you were distracted, wanting nothing more to be the one nibbling at him. But then he had to open his mouth again. “Yeah, and you love me. Says more about you than it does about me.”
“Shut up and kiss me.” You demanded.
“Yes, ma’am.” The words were whispered against your lips as he leaned in, once again dragging you into a makeout session that could rival any other. Like teenagers, the two of you, all wandering hands and teasing nibbles.
It wasn’t long until the telltale sound of the Millennium Falcon approaching pulled you apart - a good thing, too, because both of you were writhing for more than could happen in a field in the middle of nowhere. Besides, it was growing darker and being stuck any longer without shelter when the creatures of the night would begin creeping out to prowl wasn’t the best of ideas. You weren’t surprised that the little orange and white droid was the first down the ramp when the ship had settled on its landing gear.
“Hey, buddy!” The excitement in Poe’s was unmistakable as he crouched down to greet BB-8, the impact of his droid crashing into him knocking him right onto his ass. A series of inquisitive beeps made Poe sigh almost exasperatedly. “No, she’s fine, I took care of her leg.”
BB-8 rolled over and bumped at your legs affectionately, completely ignoring Poe’s indignant, “I’m fine, too, by the way!”
Rey appeared a moment later when you were kneeling to pat the droid and look him over, ensuring he hadn’t been harmed since the last you saw him. It felt a bit strange to care so much for the little guy but he was practically a little kid to you. You had started calling him Poe’s son as a joke long ago when you first met, but you had come to realize just how right you were.
“What the hell happened to you two? Did you forget how to pilot, Poe?” Rey called out as she walked up and immediately a loud bout of bickering began. To an outsider, it would look like these two hated each other but you knew better. Your little friend group would do anything for each other, especially after all you had been through together. All that was missing was -
“Finn!” Poe smiled and embraced his friend in a tight hug before slapping him on the shoulder. “I didn’t know you were coming, too.”
“You think I would miss seeing you two stranded together? Nah,” Finn asked as he pulled you in for a hug as well, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “I figured the two of you would’ve ripped each other's heads off by now.”
“Ha, ha.” You intoned sarcastically. “It’s nice to know that you two have careers in comedy now that the war is over.”
The playful jabs continued as the five of you settled into the Falcon, Poe keeping a hand on you at practically all times. On your lower back, on your hip, settled on your thigh. It seemed like now that he had the ability to touch you like he always wanted to, he couldn’t stop himself. It wasn’t long until his little game became obvious - seeing how long it would take for either of your human companions to realize something was different.
It didn’t take long for it to escalate. A hand on your thigh quickly became tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, which became affectionately rubbing the tension from your neck. Within fifteen minutes of flying through hyperspace, you had to leave the cockpit with some bullshit excuse just to keep yourself from curling up in his lap right then and there. You busied yourself in repairing the wiring you had been working on the last time you were on the Falcon, a simple job that was practically finished already save for untangling and reconnecting the wires and replacing the panel that covered it. Of course it took no time at all for Poe to wander off and find you, his arms wrapping around your waist.
“Hey,” Poe murmured before kissing your neck gently, swiping your hair out of the way to give him even more access. The scrape of his stubble against your sensitive skin made you shiver against him and you could tell Poe felt it by the way he smiled against your neck. “Love how responsive you are...you’re never getting rid of me now, sweetheart.”  
The lighthearted remark on the tip of your tongue melted away at the feeling of his tongue tracing that sweet spot just under your ear. You couldn’t help but lean back into his chest, one of his hands leaving your hips to brace against the wall. A low hum fell from your lips when Poe bit at your shoulder teasingly and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching back to run your fingers through his hair and hold him against you, your attempted repair completely forgotten in front of you.
Every touch had pleasure curling around your body, lighting up your every nerve with need and excitement. The man was a god, but if you told him that, it would pump up his ego to an insufferable level. Maybe you could handle it, the ridiculous amount of pride, if he would just touch you…
“Please,” You whispered, your eyes closing as your head fell back onto his shoulder, and you didn’t miss the hungry way he hummed against you. The arm that was wrapped around your waist shifted and his hand slid under your shirt, the shock of his warm skin against your stomach forced a gasp from you. His fingers dipped below your pants, just barely teasing at the hem of your underwear, and -
“I knew it!” Finn’s deep voice echoed harshly through the metal walls of the Falcon and you both jumped, damn near cracking heads in your surprise.
“No you did not!” Poe scoffed, letting you bury your face into his neck to hide your embarrassed face. Poe’s dismissal did nothing to curb Finn’s excited sprint back to the cockpit, screaming something about Rey owing him credits all the while. A short, huffed laugh fell from his lips as he pushed you back against the wall, facing him this time. “We can’t go back up there, they’ll be impossible.”
You set your chin against his chest with an agreeing hum. “We could just go to the bunks… carry on where we left off.”
Poe grinned at you. “Hell yes.”
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ohheyitsokay · 3 years
Text
alive
Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader
Wordcount: 1.7k
Warnings: none, two dorks pining, slightly inconclusive ending? Sorry
Summary: Poe realizes being injury prone is a great indicator for who cares about you, but he has no idea where to do from there.
>>
“Poe Dameron I swear if you die out there I will hunt down your body, raise you back to life, and kill you again.”
Poe stared at you, but the hatch was closing and then you were climbing down the ladder to get out of the way and he had to focus.
He didn’t see you again until you were clear, running to the group at the edge of the hanger. He willed you to look at him one last time, heart almost louder than the engine he was firing up. When you did, your gaze had no trouble finding him, even across the bay. Poe nodded at you, hoping beyond hope that his eyes, through the goggles and the glass and the smoke, were communicating what he was trying to say.
I will come back to you. Alive. I promise.
It was a reckless promise – he was reckless. Everyone knew he flirted with danger more than even the girls around the base, and he would gladly die for the resistance. So making a promise like that was beyond stupid but, well, it was still true. He could feel it in his stomach, a fiery resolve: he would make it back to you.
If anything, he needed to know if that’s what you were trying to ask of him when you threatened him just now. If you wanted him to be yours as much as he wanted you to be his. If you were afraid for him.
The two of you had been friends for what might as well had been forever.
Honestly, you didn’t think he thought of you as special – you were a rebel who would tease him sometimes, and talk to him when he was around. There were plenty of hopefuls who launched themselves into his arms when he came back, anyway.
Not that you didn’t want to, it just didn’t seem quite right. He was the rebel alliance’s sweetheart, one of the common heroes of the galaxy. On top of his ace flying, he had a sharp jawline, strong hands, and those deep, intense eyes that made anyone melt when he looked at them.
You were just a person who liked to help people, happy to run around in the background, making things run as smoothly as they could in such chaotic times. There was no reason you should be the one he sought out to hug when he made it home alive.
Still, you were friends.
And… and sometimes there were things that made you wonder. Moments that stuck in your brain, stealing even more of your precious sleep, and made your toes curl when you savored them late at night.
More often then not, he would sit next to you with your mutual friends in the mess hall. You would tease him, saying you would be a better pilot if you weren’t needed here, and he wasn’t so great. The others would pitch in, trying to pick out ways he wasn’t perfect and mostly failing. He’d laugh and his eyes would catch yours, and he would slide into you, so close your trays almost took up more space than the two of you.
Sometimes, he’d stand behind you, at General Organa's elbow, and you’d feel his hand settle on the small of your back. Warm movements would sink through your suit and stick to your skin even after he was long gone.
And, like this morning, you were the one he’d ask to send him off, to make sure BB8 was in place, and to be the last face he saw before he was off to dance with danger. He had stared at you tonight, intense, like he was trying to say words with only his eyes from a hundred yards away.
That wasn’t nothing, right?
You shook your head, knowing this wasn’t the time to go down that path. You had work to do.
The command center was already bustling by the time you’d grabbed your communication set so you had to wiggle into your place around the display.
You watched with focus and worry in your heart as the tiny lights shot across the miniature star system. It was going to be a long night.
-
Thank the Maker they were coming back alive. Poe was coming back alive. The communications in his ship were shot but that hardly mattered. You were beginning to think this team couldn’t do a single mission without at least three different things going wrong.
Exhaustion nagged at you, but the adrenaline kept it at bay. Almost the whole night, you and a few others had been up, alternating between yelling at the pilots and holding your breath, eyes unable to look away.
Through Poe’s ridiculous luck and maybe the Force, they had completed the mission with only burns, broken bones, and banged up ships.
As you stood by the display, you watched everyone run to see the x-wings wobble into the hanger, and you were finding it hard to keep your relief at bay. It was demanding you toss aside your doubts and fling yourself into his arms, dig your fingers into his flight suit and hold onto him without letting go. But if you ran down there with everyone to try, chances were, instead you’d get stuck watching someone else do that instead.
Still, something hot was coursing through your veins and your legs were moving on their own, carrying you towards the man who had held your heart since you’d met him. You finally stopped yourself as you hit the edge of the crowd, trying to be inconspicuous as you saw the flight teams were already in.
But he was looking for you without abandon. The same heat was in his blood and he wanted you to be the one he saw first. Or maybe the only one he saw, he didn’t care.
Poe hung on the ladder, suspended above the rushes of people, searching for you with increasing desperation. You didn’t always come to find him when he came back, and he didn’t know if he could handle that – if he could handle the idea that you didn’t need to see him as bad as he needed to see you. His one arm was injured, throbbing, but he could bring himself to descend fully yet, his heart insisting on you.
You saw him, and you almost gaped, seeing him hold himself back, his eyes searching the crowd almost frantically. Maybe it wasn’t for you, but you could bring yourself to care anymore. Maker, you wanted it to be you, and your legs took off again, weaving in an out, trying to make it to Poe.
BB8 made an indignant noise and Poe tore his eyes away, feeling guilty. He climbed back up, pressing the button to lower his friend to the ground. He tried to ignore the ugly feeling seeping into his heart when he looked down, straight into your eyes.
He had no idea how he made it down the ladder, because a second later, you were in front of him.
In unison, you sunk into each other, trying to mind his bumps and bruises.
“Okay fine, I admit it,” you whispered into his neck, “no on else could’ve made if out the that alive.” You pulled away, realizing the heaviness of your words. “You’re the best pilot in the galaxy.” The smile you shot at him was giddy with relief.
He’d been waiting to hear you say that for the past two years, and in any other circumstances he would have been yelling, jumping, and triumphant. But it suddenly didn’t matter as much as it had for all that time.
He could have died.
Of course, Poe Dameron wasn’t a stranger to near death experiences. Maker, hadn’t you teased him about his recklessness just last night? But now, not coming back to you was unthinkable.
He tugged you back into him, holding you closer than he’d ever had the courage to before. You both were too overwhelmed to keep talking. The weight of the night, the mission, this whole damn fight came crashing into focus, and you clung to each other. Poe closed his eyes and buried his nose into your hair. He didn’t want to think about how he had almost left you, almost never held you again. He didn’t want to think about the greater good, or the end goal or any of it.
Instead, he breathed you in, wanting only to focus on this moment. Your face was pressed against the skin of his neck, and your hands were gripping his suit like your life depended on it. Your heartbeat felt like shots of bravery, something he could never quiet find with you before.
“You were worried about me?” he asked, reluctantly pulling back and trying to sound lighthearted.
“We all were,” you were nodding, but you caught a split second of disappointment in his eyes and you relented. “Of course I was.”
Then Poe Dameron was beaming at you and you almost had to laugh. He was adorable and eager and it was almost too much to handle.
“You’re an idiot,” you added, more affectionately than you meant to. He was still grinning, unfazed and your resolve continued to dissolve.
“Don’t you dare do that to me again,” you said, putting your hands on either side of his face and trying to look stern.
He just shrugged, the weight of it all seeming lighter somehow. You let go of him, trying to stay annoyed and failing.
Still, you moved away from him.
“Wait, will you patch me up?” you stopped looking at him. The honesty and eagerness from before had been replaced with his usual charm.
This man was going to be the death of you.
You gave him a lopsided smile and shook your head.
“Get someone else to be your nurse, Dameron,” you said, turning on your heels with a laugh, too scared of his hands and eyes to stay.
Poe watched you go, dragging his hand over his face, and hearing the scratch of his stubble against his gloves. He couldn’t even be disappointed – he should’ve seen that coming.
He removed the glove from his unharmed side and touched the spot on his neck where your face had been. That alone was enough to get him back to you alive for at least another mission. After all, even more than recklessness, hope was in his bones. All he has to do is just had to keep coming back to you alive.
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Hi Anna! How are you? Can I request a Poe x reader please? Poe went on a mission and surprisingly got himself in trouble. The reader is at the base, besides Leia when the info comes and she's losing her mind because he's trying to get out that situation being reckless again. Once the X-Wing touches down at the base, she's running to him, and then she slaps his face for doing stupid shit and then kisses him because she's tired of pretending there's nothing between them and she almost lost him a thousand times and she's done holding herself back. Very fluffy ending. But only if you're up for it. Thank you anyways, I love your blog 💜
Hi! I’m doing okay! Of course you may! You’re so sweet <3 I’m glad you love my blog, and I hope you love this story <3
It wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous mission. Poe had reassured you several times before he left that it was going to be one of those in and out jobs. It was supposed to be so quick that he had even made dinner plans with you, promising to catch you up on everything as soon as he got back. 
He knew how anxious it made you when he went on missions, so he always tried to make them seem less dangerous than they were when telling you about them. Of course that never worked, because as soon as he was gone, you were glued to the comms. At first you had tried to find excuses, anything you could think of, to hover in the background, listening and anxious for the sound of Poe’s voice, but soon enough, everyone caught onto what you were doing, and General Organa had started saving a seat for you by her side. 
Your fingers tapped on the tabletop in front of you in an erratic rhythm, your eyes flashing back and forth between the clock and the light that should be blinking. He should have made contact by now. You had heard as much from the other Rebels in the background who were trying not to show how nervous they were in the presence of you and the General. The anxiety in your chest was making it hard to breath, and you were hoping that no one noticed how heavy your breaths were when you forced yourself to take them. 
A hand closed over your own tapping one, and made you jump. You turned to see the General smiling at you with a look that said she knew all too well what you were going through. “You know as well as I do that Poe doesn’t have a perfect sense of punctuality.” She said, giving your hand a squeeze and then pulling away.
That did manage to bring a smile, however brief. “Never on a mission anyway.” You added. In fact, the only time that Poe ever seemed to be on time was when he was meeting up with you. 
Almost as if she knew what you were thinking, she spoke again. “What plans do you two have when he comes back?” 
“Dinner. Then our usual catch up.” You answered, but then you realized something, and your brows furrowed. “How did you know that we had plans? Did Poe tell you?” You asked, unsure how she would know that because you hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. 
The General shook her head. “You two always do something after he gets back from a mission. I guess we all like to be around the people we love after we’ve come so close to losing them.” 
Love? Did you love Poe? Of course you did. He was your best friend in the galaxy. From the way she had said the word though, it had a different connotation. A connotation that you had always been too afraid to even consider during this time of War. 
“You know it’s a sad thing.” General Organa spoke up again, bringing your attention away from your thoughts and back to her. “People are so frightened of losing their loved ones that sometimes they’re too scared to tell them how they feel about them. After all, would it hurt worse if they lost them?” 
Your heart was hammering against your chest, because she was describing your feelings for Poe to perfection. You had already almost lost him so many times. In the back of your mind, you had been too scared about how crushed you would be if you did lose him for good to tell him how you felt. That you liked him way more than a friend ever should. “Wouldn’t it?” You whispered, looking back at the comm that still wasn’t blinking. 
Her warm hand settled on top of yours, giving it a little squeeze. “I’m afraid you’re the only one that can answer that.” Leia told you, with a small reassuring smile. 
You knew that she was right, after all, she always was, and you had to ask yourself, was holding back your emotions by using the War as an excuse the right thing to do? For either of you? Did Poe deserve to know how you felt about him? How whenever your mind wandered, he was the first thing that you thought about? How when you were having a bad day, he was the first person you wanted to see? How his hugs were your favorite thing in the world, and you never wanted to leave them? How his smiles always made your heart beat out of control? 
“You guys miss me?” 
Almost as if he had been summoned by your thoughts, Poe’s voice came through the now blinking comm, a little breathless, but other than that, sounding like his normal self. 
Relief crashed through your body like a wave, releasing all the tension you hadn’t realized you had been carrying. Before you even realized what you were doing, you had pressed the button, leaning over Leia to speak into the device. “Poe Dameron you better get your ass back to base right now.” 
When he said your name, even through the comm you could hear the surprise. “What are you doing there?” 
“Are you almost here?” You asked, ignoring his question. 
“Yeah, about that . . . I’ve got some company.” 
Any relief that you had felt when he answered, vanished at once, replaced with anxiety again. You backed away from the comm as Leia took over, assessing the situation and sending out Poe’s squadron to help him. Apparently he was being chased by the dreadnought he had infiltrated along with a whole squadron of Ties. 
It wasn’t good odds, and all you could think about was the conversation you had just had with Leia. Were you about to lose your chance to tell Poe how you felt before you even had it? What if a tie got him? Blew his whole ship up and took him from your life? How would you make it? How would you survive without him in your life? Poe had such a large chunk of your heart, and if he was no longer in it . . . 
Would you be left with anything? 
The thought left you clutching your chest, struggling to get air into your lungs. You felt Leia’s hand on your shoulder this time, trying to pull you back. “He wants to talk to you.” She said. 
You nodded, and leaned closer to the device. “Poe?” You said, biting your lip as you waited for his response. 
“Hey, you know I’m going to be okay right?” He said, even though you could hear the rush in his voice, the adrenaline as he dodged ties and attempted to blow up canons on the dreadnought. 
“You better be.” You said, your fingers digging into the table in front of you. “I’ve got something to tell you when you get back.” 
“Something to tell me?” Poe repeated, and you could almost see the confusion on his face. 
Leia’s hand that rested on your shoulder, gave you a squeeze. “Something I should have told you a long time ago.” You admitted, but before he could ask anything else, you bit your lip, your voice taking on an edge. “So if you don’t get back here, I’m going to bring you back and kill you myself Poe Dameron, do you understand?” 
Poe’s laughter filled the room, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “Yes ma’am.” 
What seemed like hours was probably mere minutes as Poe and his squadron fought off the First Order. Part of you didn’t want to listen, too nervous to hear the outcome, or the moment that Poe might get himself killed pulling some stupid stunt, but you couldn’t stop, knowing that in a dog fight, every second counted. Any moment could change the tide. You were so focused you didn’t think you even remembered to breathe until . . . 
“Canon’s out!” A voice called out. 
“Preparing to jump!” Another one said. 
“See you in a second, sweetheart.” Poe told you. 
Leaning back in the chair once more, you let out a sigh, equal parts relieved and nervous that he was on his way back. Leia did the same at your side, and then gave you a look. “Give him hell for me, would you?” She asked, a grin on her lips. 
You nodded, then took off as fast as you could to the hangar. 
It seemed as if you had perfect timing, because as soon as you stepped foot onto the place, Poe’s X-Wing landed a few feet ahead of you. You took a moment to let out a breath, watching as he climbed out of his ship, throwing his helmet off and revealing those wild, dark curls that you loved so much. He was glancing around in every direction, and your heart sped up when you realized that he was looking for you. 
Because as soon as he caught sight of you, a big grin formed on his face. 
You ran to him, not wanting to waste another second being apart, and he held his arms open for you, expecting a hug. 
Instead you slapped him. 
He looked stunned, holding his face with his hand as he stared at you. “OW. What the hell was that -”
You didn’t let him say anything else. Instead you wrapped your arms around his waist and tilted your head to meet his lips in a kiss that it felt like you had been waiting your whole life for. Poe froze for a moment, and you were scared that you had embarrassed yourself, but then his hands cupped your cheeks, and happiness filled your chest as he kissed you back with a passion you couldn’t ever have imagined. You clung to him as your lips moved together in perfect harmony, as if they had been made to kiss each other, and the world faded away, leaving nothing but him and this moment. 
A single, perfect moment. 
When you pulled away, Poe didn’t move, and a soft smile fell on your face as you took in the wide eyes and dazed look as he stared at you. “The slap was for you being stupid. The kiss was because I’m tired of being too scared of losing you to do it. ” You said, biting your lip as you gazed into his eyes. 
It took a couple of moments for him to speak, and when he did, he still looked a bit stunned. “Did that really just happen?” 
You raised an eyebrow at him. “The slap or the kiss?” 
“Both.” 
A laugh left your lips as Poe’s fingers tangled in your hair, massaging into your scalp. “Would you like me to do both again? So you can decide if they’re real?” You teased. 
“You know, I think I’m good on the slapping, but the kissing . . . I may need a repeat. I think I might have blacked out from how good it was.” Poe’s forehead rested against yours as heat flooded your cheeks. “So I’ll need several more to be sure.” He murmured, his nose brushing against your own. 
“Of course,” You replied, a little breathlessly as you felt the feather-like touch of his lips against your own. “We have to be sure.” 
Poe grinned as he met your lips in another kiss. The first of many.
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lexwritess · 3 years
Note
omg so sorry the 27 and 40 was for a peter parker x reader. thanks lovely!
Bottled Up [P.P]
pairing- Peter Parker x gn!avenger!reader, Natasha Romanoff x reader(platonic)
warnings- swearing, small mentions of suicidal thoughts, peter and the reader really going through it, angst
27-“Hold me.”
40-“You’re not broken.”
word count- 1.2k
You and Peter haven’t talked much since the battle with Thanos. You both have been in a bad state of mind. It was probably better if you had each other, but neither one of you guys could bring yourselves to even get out of bed.
You’ve been sleeping in the lab because Bruce says it safer there for you. Bullshit they’re all just afraid of you. You have similar powers to Wanda but if your emotions are strong you can’t control them.
Each night you can’t help but think it’s all your fault. You’ve lost everyone. Your parents died in a plane crash when you were 8, but Natasha was your mothers best friend so she offered to take you in. She trained you so you could defend others and yourself and Wanda helped you control your powers better. Now Natasha was gone too. Natasha put Steve in charge of you if anything were ever to happen to her, but Steve wasn’t here. He was old now, going back in time made him a different Steve. There’s no way he could take care of you now. Next was Bucky, but again no where to be seen. You have no one to take care of you. Everyone that’s ever cared about you is gone. The war tore everyone into there own paths and here you are alone in a tower. The only person you could ever rely on was your boyfriend, Peter.
Peter. A name that used to taste sweet when it fell from your mouth. That taste is bitter now. You don’t know if you two are still together anymore to be honest. The last time you saw each other was Tony’s funeral. It’s been about two months since then.
There’s two sides to it. You don’t want anything more than to just go over there and hold Peter and tell him everything’s going to be okay and you both are going to get through this. But you don’t think you are going to get through this. You miss him. You need him.
You sigh rolling over to the other side of the bed. You’re going to try to go to school tomorrow for the first time since the battle. But looking at the clock seeing it is 3am you don’t see yourself having the energy to get up tomorrow.
You feel yourself start to break. You’ve kept all your walls up and burying all your emotions you’ve had since the battle and now all the emptiness you’ve been feeling is now replaced by sadness, fear, and anger. You’re anger at yourself. You should never have stopped talking to Peter. He was hurting just as much as you.
You abruptly got up from your bed and got a coat on. No one is staying in the Avengers tower so all you have to do is get past the cameras. Bruce set up Cameras so if you tried to sneak out F.R.I.D.A.Y would send him an alert.
Once you get upstairs to the main floor you type in the pin number and sneak out through the back door.
You have too much adrenaline and confused feelings to be in a car right now. You start sprinting to Peters house. He can fix it. You guys can fix each other.
You reach Peters house and climb up to the window outside Peters room. You go to open the window, but quickly inch your hand away after you realize what you’re doing.
“Oh my God what am i doing?” You question yourself. ‘God i’m an idiot!’ You think.
You sign getting ready to climb off the roof.
“Y/n?” You hear a soft, surprised voice from behind you. You know that voice anywhere.
“Peter?” You question as you snap your head back to look behind you.
“Y/n what are you doing o-outside my house on my roof..at-.” He pauses to look at his phone.
“3:43 a.m.?” He looks at you concerned. He’s reading the emotions on your face. Peters the only one besides Nat that has always been able to see right through your mask.
“Oh my God sweetheart. I just realized how awful I’ve been.” Peter looks over to the side. You can tell he’s cursing himself out in his head.
“No Peter. I’ve been awful. That’s why i’m here. I miss you. I miss you so much and I’ve been so got up with myself and I just-.” Peter cuts your rambling off.
“Before you continute, get inside it’s freezing.” Peter extends his hand out to help you through the window. You gladly grab it back, and he pulls you in. You miss his hands.
Peter puts his hands on your upper arms, gently caressing them. You can finally get a better look at his face. You can see he’s been doing just as bad as you. His eyes were red and blotchy, the bags under his eyes matched yours and the brightness in his chocolate brown eyes are dull now.
“I’ve missed you so much Y/n.” Peter says his raspy voice cracking a bit.
“I missed you too.” You breathe out, tears starting to brim your eyes.
Peter engulfs you into a hug, holding you tighter than he has before. You hold him just as hard as the tears start running down your cheeks.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you.” You sob out. “I was being selfish and worrying about myself and wallowing in my own self pity.” You grab onto the bottom of his shirt fabric like your life depends on it.
“Baby it’s okay, it’s okay. I was doing the same thing, but we’re here now. You got me.” Peter coaxes.
You choke out another sob and Peter shushes you softly and caresses your head, pulling you in closer.
“It’s late we should get in bed.” Peter whispers to you.
You nod your head and he grabs your hand leading you over to his bed. You lay down and get under the covers while Peter takes his shirt off and slides his pj pants on.
“Hold me.” You whisper out to him, expanding the blanket open so he’ll get under.
He gives you a smile and lets out a breathy laugh before sliding under the covers and wrapping his arms around you.
“I’m sorry again. You always have to deal with my broken ass.” You let out a bitter laugh.
“You’re not broken. You’ve just been through a lot. So have I and we keep each other up. Okay? We’ll never be broken if we have each other.” You here Peters voice waver throughout his speech.
“Can we never do that again? I can barley to an hour without you that was the longest 2 months of my life.” Peter laughs out.
“Yes. Never again.” You smile and look down at his lips. He leans in and locks his lips with yours. God you missed his lips.
“Goodnight, Y/n. I love you.” He mumbles half asleep into your hair.
You let out a light laugh at his tiredness. “I love you too Peter.” You smile leaning in closer to him.
The name that tasted bitter in your mouth not even 5 hours ago tasted sweet again.
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kareofbears · 3 years
Text
plainly in truth, chapter 3/5
"Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."
Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.
read on ao3 or below the cut :)
Ryuji grips the letter like it was silver and he was a werewolf in the full moon.
He picks it up, skims over the first line before putting it down beside him, feeling worse every time he does it, only able to read the fine-printed lettering from the flickering lamp post above him. The constant change in light would normally bug him, but he doesn’t really care about it now; it’s not like the words would change in his hand, and he’s long since needed to actually read it to know what it reads.
His feet dangle over the canal, enjoying the way a rush of adrenaline would go through him when he looks down into the deep waters. It’s late enough in the night that even with the city lights around him, he can’t gauge how deep it goes.
Soseikawa Park was only a five minute walk from Odori Park, but with the narrow river and steeped hills, Ryuji found it secluded enough to let himself sit. Breathe. Not exist, even for just a few minutes. It’s like having his own bedroom, except it smells faintly like a sewer and there’s an intersection about ten meters above where he sat underneath the overpass. If he can ignore the never-ending rumble of cars and trucks driving above him, it can almost be considered peaceful.
He lets himself fall back, the grass tickling the back of his neck and his spine screaming in relief. They’re heading out again in two days, which means more days of being in an inescapable RV surrounded by his best friends who are keeping an eye on him because they’re good people who don’t know how to mind their own fucking business.
Idly, he lets his hands pull and brings it to his face—blades of grass. He lets it get taken by the wind. After brief consideration, he shoves the letter back into his pocket before he can do the same thing to it.
He is so tired.
Blindly, he hits the vague area of where his pocket is and fishes out his phone, hitting the first speed dial before he can talk himself out of it. As two rings go by, he stupidly hopes that she doesn’t pick up, as if she hasn’t ever missed a phone call from him even when she’s at work.
The third ring gets cut off halfway through. “Ryu!”
Despite himself, he grins. “Hey, ma. Checking in for the weekly call.”
“I was just thinking about you,” she says, and he can hear the laundry machine run in the background. “I was wondering if you had eaten today.”
“Ma, you ain’t gotta worry about that kinda thing anymore. I’m a big boy now.”
“You’re breaking my heart!” He can almost see her, phone tucked in the crook of her neck, work-worn hands folding her laundry as fast as she can so as to not hold up the next person in line. “It doesn’t matter how big you are, you’re my boy. How can I not think about whether my boy is eating or not?”
“All I’ve done on this trip is eat, ma.”
“Oh, and Akira! How’s that handsome boy doing? Still taking the world by storm?”
That pulls a genuine laugh from him—he never needs to hold back when it comes to talking about Akira, at least. “You know it. He’s the only guy in the world who can stand toe-to-toe with me in chowing down. I swear, he’s slipping some of it under the table ‘cause he’s so damn fast. Forty seconds! Forty seconds to inhale an extra large beef bowl! Blows my mind, seriously.”
“Could never do anything in halves, can he?” she chuckles, before the quality of her voice shifts. “And are you enjoying yourself?”
He hesitates. “Yeah, of course. It’s a roadtrip across Japan, how can I not?”
“Good.” There’s some crackling over the receiver, and he guesses she’s probably adjusting the basket full of clothes on her hip. “That’s all I want to hear. As long as you’re happy, Ryu, I’m a happy old woman.”
Ryuji opens his mouth, ready to console her.
I’m always happy!
You worry too much, ma.
There’s nothing to worry about.
“Sorry, but,” he swallows thickly. “I think they’re calling for me? So—”
“Alright,” she says, and he might be imagining the disappointed tinge to it. “Call back when you can, okay sweetheart? I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” he clears his throat. “I love you, ma.”
“I love you too, Ryu.”
He hangs up, letting the phone slip out of his fingers. It lands hard on the flat grass
For a long moment, he just lays there, listening to the gentle lapping waves and cars honking with impatience of people who have somewhere to be. He tries to meditate for half a minute, with all the information he had learned from a couple of YouTube videos, and gives up, because of course he does. Squeezing his eyes shut, he can’t do anything about the creeping dread that’s in his stomach getting stronger, squeezing and squeezing until he feels sick. It’s like his insecurities are having this huge fight against each other, feeding off of one another until it gets too big for him to handle and all he can do is breathe and try to do something about it.
And he’s fucking sick of it—breathing. He’s sick of the stupid breathing techniques, sick of counting down from ten and waiting for his own heart to chill out because his brain won’t stop reminding him of everything he did wrong, of shit he’s still doing wrong because at least this way, nobody knows what he did was wrong. It’s just him that can point and laugh at himself, and that’s way better than having the world do it for him.
He doesn’t cry, because he’s not a crier. He’s the type of guy to throw a fist through drywood before shedding a tear, and he hates that about himself. Rather than do something that will actually help, Ryuji lays there, perfectly still. Listening. Waiting for a meteor to fall on him, or for the overpass to crash its entire weight on top of him.
Instead, he hears footsteps.
His heart rate slows by a fraction, and opens his eyes to meet gray ones. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Akira says, a smile in his voice. “How did you know it was me?”
Ryuji almost feels offended. He would know Akira by sound alone, the way his heels would click in the Metaverse. The way the balls of his feet would strike the earth, hardly muffled by grass or cheap sneakers or anything else as trivial. Ryuji would know he was there; no matter how blind he was with hatred for himself, his love for Akira would always guide him back to where he needs to be.
“Lucky guess.”
“One hell of a guess.” He plops down onto the grass and Ryuji lifts his head, allowing Akira to wiggle until he could use his lap as a pillow. “Your turn,” Akira says.
“My turn to what?”
“To ask me how I knew where you were.”
“Oh.” He lets his eyes slide shut again. “I kinda just assumed you could do that.”
“You assume too much of me sometimes.”
“I assume the right amount.” Ryuji refuses to shiver when he feels long fingers start to card through his hair. “You’re giving me goosebumps,” he sighs.
“That’s a good thing, I think.” The fingers pull away and he’s about to complain when he feels something gets thrown over his torso. “Here. You always end up forgetting to wear an extra layer when you go out like this.”
Ryuji rearranges Akira’s jacket over himself. “Sap.”
“You know it.” He resumes combing through his hair, and Ryuji lets himself relax, just a little. It’s strange—it’s hard as hell being around other people nowadays, and even though Akira can make him feel that sometimes, mostly it helps the eternal twisting of his stomach to settle.
“You’re good at that,” Ryuji mutters.
“Thank you. I’ve had plenty of practice with Morgana.” And just to make it worse, he uses a little bit of nail on his nape, sending electricity running down all the way to his fingertips.
His mouth twists unhappily. “Don’t do shit like that while talking about the cat, for the love of god.”
Akira does it again, like the little shit he is. “You still have that weird thing with your neck?”
“Quit it!” Ryuji slaps his thigh and he can’t muster much anger when he can feel Akira’s shoulders shake from silent laughter. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
“You’re right.” Gently, softly, like the world’s lightest feather, he feels lips brush his temple. “I’m funnier.”
His eyes open, and his entire vision is obscured by curly black hair and tender eyes. “You’re right,” he breathes. “You’re funnier.”
Akira bends down again, and Ryuji catches his lips, overflowing with something soft but unafraid, and it’s so good that Ryuji reaches for his cheek just to make it last a little bit longer.
When they break off, Akira kisses his temple again, this time on the left side. “Do you know what day it is?”
“Uh,” he scratches his head, brain a little fuzzy. “Tuesday?”
“It’s Wednesday, and I meant the date. It’s August tenth.”
“Okay?”
Akira thumbs at his collarbone. “I know this might be a little lame that I know it by heart, but I left Tokyo on March 19th. That would mean it’s been—”
“One hundred forty-four days since you moved away,” he finishes. “I know.”
Akira blinks, and then laughs, and Ryuji knows it’s an especially good one because sound actually comes out this time. “Yes,” he says, elated. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
“I told you dude, we’re really on that telepathy shit.”
“We really are.” A pause. “I miss you.”
He’s about to joke—I’m right here, you big dummy—but find that he just can’t. “I miss you too.”
They can’t say what they mean: I will miss you. Summer vacation doesn’t last forever, and two months will always be a hell of a lot shorter than the rest of the ten months that they’ll be apart. Somehow, he dreads seeing Akira gone, and he’ll dread seeing Akira back in Tokyo because it would mean that he’d actually have to see what Ryuji’s really like. Actively pushing away his best friend just so he doesn’t have to see his failures; doesn’t that just make him the worst piece of shit in the world?
There’s a gap, though. A little loophole. A crack in the timeline. A place where maybe he’s allowed to be a hollowed out version of happy; the now.
“Tomorrow’s our last day in Sapporo?”
“Yeah?” Akira replies, surprised at the change in tone.
“Which means Jail stuff is done, right? All your grocery shopping and Sophia Prime’s been ordered and packed up?”
“Yes,” he says, a lilt in his voice. “It’s all done.”
Ryuji sits up and faces him, reaching for his wrists, relishing in the heartbeat thumping against his palms. “Let’s do something. I don’t care what, but let’s do something. Eat at a diner, go to a museum, rob a bank, whatever.” He runs his thumb along the veins there, long since those bumps have been ingrained in his brain. “Let’s do something, just you and me.”
“Are you asking me out on a date, Sakamoto?” He has a cocky look in his eye, and Ryuji’s half-tempted to kiss him again just to wipe it clean off his face. “You know I’d follow you anywhere.”
He knows. That’s the scary part. Would Akira still follow someone he doesn’t know as well as he thinks he does? “I’ll get us lost,” he jokes.
Akira doesn’t laugh. “I’d rather be lost with you than learn to lose you.”
It’s been ages since he’s been flustered at anything Akira does, but he feels a rush of heat crawl up his neck. “I’ll—” Ryuji shakes his head, willing his embarrassment to go away. “Shit, uh—”
“I’ll pick where to go,” he interrupts, a little too smug for his liking. “I’d say I’ll pick you up at your place, but…”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a comedian,” Ryuji rolls his eyes. “I’ll be ready whenever.”
“Fantastic.” Akira checks his phone, wincing. “It’s late.”
He grips his wrist tightly. “I know.”
Thankfully, he’s never needed to explain much to Akira. “Okay,” he says softly. “Ten more minutes?”
“Yeah.” He lets his eyes slide shut once more, letting out a breath. The world will keep spinning. His stomach will keep twisting. Time will keep marching on, but at least he has this. “Ten minutes sounds good.”
The first words that Futaba says as she enters the RV was: “Oh, hell.”
“Hello Futaba-chan, Yusuke-kun,” Haru greets cheerfully from the booth. “How was your shopping trip?”
“...Fine,” she replies, stepping aside to let him in, lugging a four-foot tall canvas in his arms that accidentally hits the ceiling. “Got a new Featherman action figure.”
“I got a canvas,” Yusuke answers from behind the wall of white. “Though I assume you can see that.”
“I can.” Her smile doesn’t falter, and it’s making the hair on Futaba’s nape rise like a nervous animal. “Quick question, since you both are here…”
Haru pulls a tote bag from underneath the table, and it’s so heavy that when she throws it on the table, her teacup nearly topples over. “Would you like to take a guess of what’s in this bag?”
A billion jokes pop into Futaba’s head, but both of them stay silent, terrified and confused. They both knew this was coming, but they didn’t expect her to be so forward about it.
“I suppose that’s a pretty strange question, I’m sorry. Let me try again.” She reaches in and pulls out thick, heavy textbooks, all brightly coloured and consist of beaming, diverse students on the front cover. “Care to tell me why you were both looking at cram books while we’re on our fun roadtrip?”
Yusuke pushes Futaba aside, eyes on the books and wide with shock. “You bought them?!” he exclaims.
“Wait—” Futaba hops repeatedly, trying to catch a glimpse from over his shoulder. “You bought all of them?”
“Of course.”
“But why?”
She thinks about it for a moment. “Hmm, think about it this way. If Akira’s in charge of the group as a whole, and Makoto’s in charge of the more analytical aspect of things, think of me as a somewhat stern yet loving parent who doesn’t quite know how to mind their own business.”
“I thought that was Ann’s job,” Futaba mutters, heart hammering in her chest.
“Now,” Haru leans forward, and as if to prove her role, speaks in a gentle tone. “I’m not mad at you. That would be ridiculous. But I saw you two looking at these books, and I know how expensive they can be, so I’ll give them to you.”
She blinks. “You would?”
“Absolutely!” Haru smiles wide. “On the condition that you tell me why you need them.”
Futaba and Yusuke exchange a glance, before Futaba makes a T with her hands. “Timeout!” she yells, dragging Yusuke by the collar out of the RV.
“What do we do?” he whispers once the door is shut. “It’s not as if we can tell her.”
“I don’t know, maybe we should?” she pushes up her glasses. “Damn, the things money can buy you. Our vow of silence is getting thrown out the window for two handfuls of yen.”
He looks her dead in the eyes. “I would tell the world my deepest secrets if it meant having lifetime access to a grocery store.”
“Don’t say that, you sellout!”
“I’m not selling out. My art already reveals the deepest portion of my soul, it’s not my fault that the common observers cannot pick up what I’m putting down.” He squints against the setting sun. “She’s waiting. What do we do?”
“Okay, okay, okay, just let me—” her mind whirrs rapidly, and for a second she really feels like Sophia. “Give me a second.”
“I have a suggestion,” he points at her. “If we’re not averse to lying, let’s tell them that you need them for school. You’re struggling with academics, you need a bit of outside help, so we took a look at the textbooks.”
“Good idea! Wait.” She frowns. “They’ll never buy it. Let’s say that you need them.”
“I’m at the top of my class!”
“But they don’t know that!” She balls her fists together, determined. “Okay, let’s do this.”
“I didn’t say yes to this.”
Futaba kicks the door open, making Haru pause wiping her spilt drink mid-stroke. “Inari’s struggling with his classes!”
“I—“ Yusuke stammers. “Yes,” he confirms. “I’m struggling with my classes. They’re mighty indeed, and even I find them difficult. I am...struggling.”
Haru looks at them doubtfully. “Yusuke is?”
“I am,” he answers as Futaba says, “He is.”
“Yusuke,” she repeats, gesturing to the neatly-stacked pile of textbooks on the table. “Is struggling with precalculus?”
They stare at her. “Yes,” Yusuke says, slowly. “I am struggling with previous calculus.”
“Out of curiosity, Yusuke,” Haru scratches her cheek. “Do you know what a parabola is?”
“Of course I do,” he replies with the wisdom of a thousand monks. “It’s a self-contradictory statement.”
“That’s a paradox,” Makoto corrects from the steering wheel.
“What the heck?” Futaba jumps a foot in the air. “Why are you here? Why were you hiding?”
“I like to sit here a few hours before we start another road trip,” she says, before glaring at them. “You two. Does this have to do with Ryuji?”
“T-timeout!”
Futaba makes a beeline to the door again, but Haru’s faster. She slips past them, standing in their way, perfect smile still in place. Sometimes Futaba forgets how strong she is in negotiations; her and Yusuke were probably tutorial levels compared to the upper management of Okumura Foods. “Answer her question, please.”
Yusuke sighs, tired. “You know what you’re asking for, don’t you? If we tell you what’s happening here, it would be breaking the trust of one of our teammates.”
“Yusuke!” Futaba hisses. “Are you really thinking about telling them? It’s not even our secret to tell.”
“No, it isn’t.” He makes eye contact with Makoto. “But she made a point. What would make us better friends: if we kept a secret to the grave while letting him suffer, or tell someone who can help even if it means being some sort of tattletale?”
“But…” she trails off, resolve crumbling. “Dude. It’s going to suck so much.”
“I know.” He pats her head, before moving to Ryuji’s backpack once more. “Don’t worry, I’m willing to take his anger if need be.” Yusuke gestures to the booth. “Everyone, take a seat. It’s about time this finally gets cleared up.”
Smoothing out the envelope in his hand, even more crumpled than when they had it last, he clears his throat, takes one last glance at Futaba to make sure. At her tentative nod, he begins to read its contents in a loud, clear voice.
When he finishes, they sit there, staring at the thick paper in silence.
“Oh my god,” Makoto breathes. “I knew it was bad, but—”
Haru shakes her head. “Not this bad. And he talked about it so much, but we didn’t even…” she glances down at the textbooks, idly rubbing its spine. “I didn’t think much of it.”
“None of us did,” Yusuke says. “But does that make it any better?”
They fall in silence again, but Futaba can hear the answer loud and clear. Hell no.
The door opens forcefully, pulling them out of their stupor.
“What’s up, my beloved friends!” Ann calls, shopping bags in tow. “God, I’m gonna miss Sapporo. Things here are so cheap compared to Tokyo, sheesh!” She sets them down, laughing when nobody says anything. “Jeez, what’s going on? Did I miss something?”
“Ann-chan,” Haru says carefully, all sense of cheer, for intimidation or otherwise, gone. “Take a seat. There’s something you should know.”
The Ferris wheel looms over them, blocking out most of the sunset behind it. “Nice,” Ryuji grins appreciatively. “I should’ve seen this one coming.”
“You should’ve,” Akira agrees, tugging him into the open carriage. He goes in willingly. “It was staring at you the whole time we’re in Sapporo. And besides, every romantic movie has a Ferris wheel scene, doesn’t it?”
“Oh yeah? Name one.”
“Death note.”
Ryuji makes a face, and Akira laughs. “Yeah, I know. Bad example.”
It’s a tight squeeze but they sit next to each other, ignoring the bench in front of them. The seats are hot, and even though it’s nearly evening, the heat barely eases up on them. Still, he finds himself pressing himself against Akira. He runs cold, much colder than Ryuji; narrow wrists are ice, prominent collarbones frost.
The two of them lean over the window, pointing out random scenery as if it were the first time they were seeing them. Restaurants, statues. Weird looking cars and flower beds. Decorated high rises and insects that fly by. It’s like they were tourists, or a retired couple who just want to travel the world. He’s never wanted to be old before, but Akira always has a way of making him change his mind.
Like clockwork—Ryuji makes a joke. Akira laughs. His heart feels lighter.
When he finds himself leaning against him, feet up on the bench, Akira wraps his arms around his shoulders unhesitatingly. Ryuji wonders if he can hear the way his heart thuds inside his bones. He wonders if he knows it's for him. The Ferris wheel stops, right at the very top, gently swaying like it were a giant cradle. They’re not very high up, but it’s far enough that he feels like he’s left the entire world behind.
Ryuji presses his lips against those wrists, relishing in the way he can feel the heartbeat increase. “You nervous?”
He can feel his head shake behind him. “I’m happy, I think,” Akira says in a hushed voice, like it was a secret, like it was a sin.
A breeze flows through, and Ryuji closes his eyes when lips press against just below his ear.
Would it be worth it to have a Palace? A Jail? Would it be worth it to lose himself, just to be in this moment for the rest of time?
Carefully, he flips himself sideways, just so he can press more of himself against Akira. The carriage rocks gently, and the metal bench underneath them is sharp and uncomfortable. Arms tighten around him. Chest to back, knee to knee, they couldn’t be closer, but Ryuji leans back, wanting nothing more than to bottle the rhythm of his breathing and the smell of his soap.
I’m happy, too, I think, he wants to say. If we stayed like this for the rest of our lives, until our skin is permanently tattooed into the hot steel and our bones are the only thing they take out of this bench because the rest of us had already rotted, then I’d be pretty damn happy.
Craning his neck backwards, Akira is already staring.
Then he’s kissing him—once, twice, again and again, and Ryuji realizes that something’s different. This wasn’t the kind of kiss he was used to. There was a desperate air to it, an urgent edge from both of them that neither was ready for. Stealing each other’s breath and giving it back; the cycle continues, the clock keeps ticking.
Ryuji pulls himself up, not breaking the kiss, cupping his cheek and soaking him in like a flower to the sun; an endless yearning, like he’d shrivel up and suffocate if it vanished. The sun framed Akira, and for a split second, he feels like he understands what Yusuke sees on a canvas.
When they part, foreheads leaning against each other, Ryuji lifts a trembling hand to wipe the tear that rolled down Akira’s cheek.
“What’s up?” he asks softly. “Is something wrong?”
“I feel like you’re a miracle, Ryuji.”
How do you respond to that? When the person who said it feels like they’re the one who’s magic, who’s too good to be true?
“Fuck miracles,” he says, pulling Akira in again.
The circuit felt like it ended too soon, but it’s night when they finally stepped off, holding hands and faces flushed. He hopes the ride operator doesn’t hate them, but he’s in too good of a mood to really complain.
Ryuji stops in his tracks when he sees who’s in front of them.
“Ann?” Akira questions, taken aback. Eyes dark and brows pulled close together, clutching her purse like a weapon of war—she looks like she’d just seen someone set an orphanage on fire.
Her voice is shockingly deep, gaze fixed on Ryuji. “I’m borrowing him for a second.”
Before either of them can say anything, Ann takes him by the bicep, and he can only glance at Akira before he’s dragged back into the Ferris wheel.
“Did you even pay—?”
“Don’t start,” she hisses, pushing him on the bench, hard. “Don’t you dare start, you damn liar.”
His blood runs cold. “What?”
No. That’s impossible.
“Don’t play dumb with me.” She shoves her hand in her bag and throws something rubber at him. “Do you know how long it took me to find a good one here? I spent my entire day in the shopping district—not looking for clothes, or shoes, or whatever the hell I thought would be fun. No, I spent our last day in Sapporo looking for that.”
Ryuji looks down at the hot compress in his hands, a lump in his throat.
“Because you weren’t doing anything to your knee,” she continues, jaw tight. “Despite me trying my best to help you get better. I thought that you must’ve been really fan-freaking-tastic at hiding the pain that you told me about. That I trusted was the truth because you’re one of my best friends and I trust you. I trust you with my life, my secrets—” Ann grits her teeth. “What the hell?”
“How did you find out?” he asks hoarsely.
She knows. If she knows, they could know. If they could know—
“Damn you, it doesn’t matter how I found out!” she throws her hands in the air, voice so hurt that it twists his insides impossibly tighter. “You think I would care? You think that this is important enough to lie to me about? Dammit, I don’t care that you—”
“Don’t say it,” he begs. “Please.”
“I don’t give a single shit that you failed second-year, Sakamoto!”
Her words ring against the steel walls, deafening.
Bile crawls up his esophagus, and he readies himself for another attack. But for some strange reason, his vision doesn’t blur. Instead, anger kicks in like it always does.
“You don’t care?” he asks, incredulous. “This doesn’t even have anything to do with you!”
“It does when you lie to me about it!” she yells back. “Do you not care about me? About your friends who would go to hell and back for you?”
“How dare you—!”
“You lied to me, you hid it from everyone else, you ignored our advice because it doesn’t mean shit to you.” She points a finger at him. “And look where that got you.”
“Shut up.”
“We all noticed, you know! Each and every one of us noticed that something was up, even the literal robot—”
“Shut the hell up, Ann.”
“And for what? All you accomplished was hurt our feelings, hold in yours, and keep it from the love of your life—”
Ryuji stands up, rocking the carriage and nearly toppling Ann off her feet.
“It’s because I fucking hate myself!”
She grips the barred window, eyes wide. They stare each other down for a few long moments, before the ride comes to an abrupt end. The door swings open, allowing a cheery greeting from the oblivious employee.
And then Ann sighs, shoulders deflating. “Come on,” she jerks her head to the door, before stepping out herself. “Let’s go.”
“What?” he asks, puzzled. “Where?”
“If we’re going to delve into the psyche of Sakamoto Ryuji, we might as well do it with some food in front of us.”
The cafe Ann takes him to is bright, filled with pastries and crowded with people—stools are pastel blue, baristas are wearing cute bowties, and each cup of coffee comes with an alarming amount of whipped cream on top. Sojiro would have a heart attack if he walked three kilometers of this place, but Ryuji’s glad that the resemblance is far and away than that of Leblanc.
The booth is pressed into the corner of it all; up against the window and far enough from the main bustle that they’d have to really put their all into it if they wanted to take their order. On one side sat Futaba, nervously tracing shapes on the window while Haru sits beside her. The opposite end has Yusuke and Makoto.
They all look up when they hear the bell chime, and Ryuji almost laughs. “It’s been a long ass time since I’ve seen you guys look so serious,” he remarks, sliding next to Makoto while Ann sits next to Haru. “Where’s the food at? Come on guys, food’s good for you.”
He raises a hand. “Excuse me! We’re ready!”
“Ryuji,” Futaba’s voice is brittle. “I—”
“Hold on shorty,” he reaches to pat her head, voice coming out soft. “We’ll get to that. I promise.”
A waiter comes, takes their drink order, and leaves. When he does, Yusuke places a heavy hand on the table. “I was the one who told everyone.”
“That’s not true!” Futaba cries out, and everyone jerks back in shock. “That’s bull! I’m the one who told him to go through your stuff ‘cause he was worried about you, but I’m the one who actually—”
“No, I’m the one at fault here,” Haru casts her gaze downwards. “It was really none of my business, but I forced these two to tell everyone here. I’m so sorry—”
Ryuji sighs. “Guys, it’s fine.” He’s met with an incredulous look. “Okay, it isn’t, but none of this is your fault, you know? I’m not mad.” His gaze shifts to Ann. “But you’re allowed to be mad at me. I know I shouldn’t have hidden it.”
She gives him a weighted look. “Then why did you do it?”
“Ann,” Makoto warns.
“No, I’m not budging on this.” She leans forward. “He lied to me. Lying doesn’t get you anywhere good. That was really stupid of you.”
“Ann!” Futaba cuts in, horrified.
“You’ve seen what happened with Shiho.” Ryuji flinches back like he’s been hit. He knows. Ann knows he knows. But she keeps going anyway. “She lied to me about what was happening, and I lied to her back. It kept going and going, and—” she snaps her fingers. “She’s gone from my life. For how long? I don’t know, maybe until we graduate. Maybe until her rehab ends. Maybe longer. Who knows? All I know is if we had just—talked, or—” Ann shakes her head, frustrated. “From the start. Tell us what happened. And afterwards, let us help you, or I swear to god I’m going to cry, and I know you can’t stand it when people cry.”
The silence is deafening, even with the clamor of people and voices around them.
Ryuji lets out a breath. “Yeah, alright.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You will?”
“I will,” he repeats, idly checking his pulse. Heart rate is a little quick, but in no danger of having another breakdown. “I’ll tell you everything.”
The waiter chooses that time to drop off their drinks; all cold except Haru, nursing a hot cup of tea. They definitely didn’t buy enough to justify the god-knows-how-long they’re going to spend here, but they’re just gonna have to suck it up.
“Alright,” he starts when they’re alone again. “We going from the start?”
“The very beginning,” Ann confirms.
With one last glance at his friends, he sighs, sits up straight, and flashes them the biggest grin he can muster:
“Hi,” he greets. “I’m Sakamoto Ryuji, and I failed my second-year of high school.”
No one’s expression shifts, not even an inch. He can’t help but be a little impressed. “You guys know that I’ve never been the greatest with books. Shit, screw greatest—I’ve ranked bottom five ever since I started middle school. Didn’t help that my leg got fucked to high heaven and everyone started hating me. Nearly dropped out a couple times. Had no one, really. Worst time in my life, hands down.
“So imagine this dumb little kid, middle of April, running into this guy.” Without meaning to, the grin shifts into something more genuine. “Good-looking dude, super smart, real charmer but you wouldn’t be able to tell just by lookin’ at him. And that guy saved my life. Ten, twenty, thirty times over. He was so great that the dumb kid obviously fell in love with him. But what’s even crazier is that the guy fell in love with the dumb little kid, too.
“Crazy, right? Sounds made up, but I promise it’s true.” He catches Futaba’s expression shift to exasperation. “I know, I can’t believe it either.”
“That’s not what I meant, you sap,” she says.
“Yeah, but that dumb little kid,” he explains. “Couldn’t believe it. Literally couldn’t believe it. Thinks that he struck the lottery, struck by damn lightning. I mean—” Ryuji laughs a little. “How can someone so amazing and cool be in love with such a moron? What made it worse…”
He gestures at all of them. “Was that the guy had so many people in his life who was also amazing. His social circle was made up of, and correct me if I’m wrong: a successful journalist, a politician, some dude from the mob, a random child who breaks gaming records on the daily, and I’m not even counting people from this goddamn table. So dumb little kid knows, he fucking knows that somehow, someway, he tricked the cool guy into falling in love with him. The kid sucked, no, sucks,” he corrects. “At everything. Can’t do anything worthwhile.”
“Ryuji…” Haru whispers.
“Almost done, I know it’s running on kinda long,” he promises. “So the dumb little kid became kinda obsessed with the group’s ‘activities’, and it’s obvious why he would, right? If he knows he’s not good enough for the guy he’s in love with, then he can at least try to be. But since he already sucked at school to begin with, dummy over here completely bailed on school and ended up flunking so bad that he failed an entire year.”
An entire year. An entire year.
It’s becoming harder and harder to breathe, but he’d rather get hit by a truck than lose it in front of so many people. Gritting his teeth, he does what he knows is bad, what every google search and YouTube video says you should not do—he pushes his feelings, far and hard away from himself, so far that it’s like it doesn’t even exist.
It works surprisingly well.
“And, uh—” Ryuji clears his throat. “He hid it. Because you know the one, single thing that’s worse than realizing you’re not good enough for the other person?”
No one answers. “Waiting for the day that they realize that you’re not good enough for them.”
“And that’s pretty much the bulk of it.” Reaching for his mug, he takes a sip of his lukewarm lemonade. Damn, he really did talk for a while. “I didn’t want to tell the rest of you because one, it’s really fucking embarrassing that I failed, and two—”
“Akira can’t know,” they all say in unison.
“Exactly, you guys get the point by now.” He drums his fingers against the table, trying to ignore the blatant gloom cast on all of their faces. “Question time starts now, if anyone wants to ask anything.”
Makoto opens her mouth, but he beats her to it. “If anyone even thinks about feeling pity, or be all ‘no, you’re smart actually!’, I am walking out of this cafe and I am not looking back.”
“What about summer school?” Makoto asks immediately. “If you didn’t want us to know, then you could’ve taken that without even telling us.”
“Summer school was never an option.”
“And why not?” she slaps her hand against the table. “It would’ve solved this entire situation!”
“Because Akira was coming home for the summer,” he says simply. “And I wanted to enjoy my time with him without this hanging over my head.”
Her jaw drops open. “But...that’s…”
“Stupid?” he offers. “Idiotic? Really dumb? Potentially throwing away my entire future? Yeah, I gotcha. Another part of it was that the thought of staying at Shujin for another minute makes me want to jump into traffic, if that helps make me look a little better in your mind, miss prez.”
Makoto’s expression of confusion freezes, taken aback by the harshness of his words. Ryuji cringes at himself. “Sorry.”
“No,” she says finally. “The fault is mine. I have no right to judge your actions, or to pretend I know what kind of stress is burdening you.” Hesitating, she asks, “May I request another question?”
“Shoot.”
“What were you going to do when we eventually go back to Tokyo?”
As expected of someone who went head-to-head against the ace detective in front of the entire school; her questions are brutal. “I don’t know, honestly. I was planning on ignoring the problem for now and just sort of,” he gestures vaguely. “Enjoy the summertime sun?”
“A moment,” Haru goes through her bag. “It’s a long story, but I have these—”
The second the books peek out of her tote, he recognizes the cover immediately. “Cram books? You bought some?”
“Yes!” she answers, mistaking his reaction for eagerness. “It’s a very small gesture, but I’d love for you to have them.”
“I—” he leans away from them, breath catching in his throat. “No.”
“No?” she blinks.
“Not now, senpai.” Trying out his new trick again, he forces his heart to slow down, forces his breathing to regulate again without any of the techniques, and forces himself not to feel any of the fear that he’d normally have to go through. It works, but barely. “I’m not—I don’t think I’m ready to deal with that yet.”
“That’s fine.” Haru puts them away, and as hard as he tries, he can still see how dejected she was. “I’ll hold on to them for you.”
“Thank you.” He glances around. “Any last takers? Q&A is almost up.”
“I have one,” Yusuke pipes up.
“Go for it.”
“How are you?” he asks genuinely.
Ryuji can’t help it—a laugh gets pulled out of him. “How am I?” he repeats.
“Yes. How are you?”
“Uh,” he laughs again. “Not good, man. Not good.”
Everyone startles when Ryuji stands abruptly. He slams down the rest of his lemonade, relieved at how it helps his parched throat. “Alrighty, that took a lot out of me! Let’s get out of here, I’m sick of being surrounded by fake coffee and poser cafe fanatics.”
“I’ll take care of the bill,” Haru says, following his lead and scooting out from the booth.
“What? No, come on. I don’t care how rich you are, at least let me pay half.”
“Ryuji.” She looks him dead in the eye. “I’ll take care of the bill.”
“...Yes ma’am.”
Slowly, they all start filing out, some exiting the cafe while Makoto goes to the till with Haru. Ryuji reaches for Ann’s elbow before she can leave. “Hey.”
Turning her head, it’s as if her lips were permanently stitched downwards. “Yeah?”
“I’m really sorry I lied to you,” he says, somber. “That was shitty, and it doesn’t matter what I’m going through—you can’t deal with lies. I get that. I won’t put you through that again.”
Ann kisses her palm before slapping it against his forehead. “You better not,” her voice drips in affection. “You said not to console you—”
“I did, and I meant it.”
“But I’m here for you,” she rubs his skin harder, and he winces at the chafing. “You know that, right? No matter how crazy the shit inside your head gets, I want you to talk to me.”
“I know it,” he says, not just because he wants the friction to ease up. “I know it now, for sure.”
“Good.” Ann releases him, and goes to join Haru and Makoto up front. “You might want to head out. Someone’s starting to make a fuss.”
“What?” he turns around, making direct eye contact with Futaba, nursing a blank expression on her face. “I see.”
The bell chimes once more when he steps out, relieved at the cool summer air that hits him. “Shorty,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “What’s good?”
“Here.” Ryuji glances down at her, who’s holding a familiar, now very-crumpled envelope between her fingers. It’s weird seeing her hold the letter announcing his failure like a bomb, but he understands the sentiment. “I had to show Ann because she wouldn’t believe me until I got some proof.”
“Thank you,” he says, shoving it in his pocket. “I’m not mad at you, you know.”
“I know you’re not.” She swallows and stares down at her shoes. Her laces were covered in little beads and stars, something he had bought for her during a weekend hangout once. “This isn’t me pitying you, or showering you with some kind of boohoo potion.”
She swallows again. “I failed my first year of high school. It was for a completely different reason—guilt for who I thought I killed rather than wanting to be something else. But I know. I know so much about what you’re going through.”
Futaba looks up, and his heart wrenches when he sees the tears in her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry if I made you sad, or that I kept calling you stupid back then,” she sobs. “I don’t mean it, and I’m so mean to you all of the time but I don’t mean any of it. I told everyone your secret because I wanted to—” she hiccups, and she pushes her glasses to the top of her head. “I wanted to give you your own version of what the Phantom Thieves did for me, but I reached out to you guys back then. No one forced me to do anything, but I took that choice away from you.”
He pulls her in his arms, and her tears are hot even through his shirt. “I know, Futaba,” he says, patting her head. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
She hits his chest weakly. “Me taking care of you?” she sniffs. “I’m literally the one crying right now.”
“Just for now though,” he shrugs. “Next time I cry, you’ll be the one handing me tissues, I swear.”
They stand there, the two of them standing in the middle of Sapporo while people give them weird looks—Futaba, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks, and Ryuji, refusing to ever let his emotions make things worse for everyone else again.
When they get back to the RV, each of them emotionally exhausted, Ryuji goes to kiss the top of Akira’s head. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Akira looks up from his card game with Morgana and Sophia. “You look like you had a wild night. Ann take you all somewhere fun?”
“Totally,” he says, sliding the letter back in his backpack. “Best night ever.”
“Take me next time. Sophia’s kicking our ass.”
“She is not!” Morgana denies, tail swishing. “Just a little,” he relents.
“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” Ryuji announces, hiking his backpack on his shoulders and heading out, before running into Ann outside.
“Oh my god,” she says, disturbed. “He really, really doesn’t know.”
“Yup,” he moves past her. “And we’re keeping it that way.”
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