#and this is probably going to turn into years of this again
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ravenkings · 3 days ago
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i know this is hashtag cringelib shit (and i don't fucking care tbh) but believe me when i say that vladimir putin is probably the actual most evil person on the planet currently. you can hem and haw and try to be ~edgy~ and say that whichever us president is just as bad blah blah blah but the fact is that, even notwithstanding the horrors he is currently perpetrating in ukraine and has also perpetrated in places like syria, chechnya, multiple nations in africa, etc. vladimir putin actively orchestrated the complete suppression of his own country through turning it into a true mafia state and also has most likely been involved in (or even orchestrated) multiple examples of state terrorism IN RUSSIA ITSELF in order to start wars or to cause fear to consolidate his own power.
furthermore he's assassinated an ever-increasing list of people who stood against him and frequently IN OTHER COUNTRIES.
like there is ultimately no way to negotiate with that man, and not even just for moral reasons but because the first chance he gets HE WILL FUCK YOU OVER. anyone who is suggesting (ahem donald trump ahem) that he is a reasonable actor who you can ""do business with"" either thinks he's in cahoots with him, is subservient to him, or is just fucking stupid (and i'm sure the current us president falls into all three categories.)
i know this is obvious to many but i do still feel like there are some reasonable though uninformed people who think that if a ceasefire in ukraine is brokered now, even on russia's terms, that it would still be a preferable option for ukraine.
i'm telling you RIGHT FUCKING NOW (with almost 30 years of prior evidence to go on) the second he gets a chance to regroup, putin would break that fucking ceasefire and try to seize the entire country once again just like in 2022 and this time, does literally ANYONE see ukraine getting sufficient help to fend him off then?????
and trust me, being under russian occupation under putin would probably lead to EVEN MORE torture and rape and bloodshed and cruelty (as we have EXTREMELY ample evidence of) than continuing the war and giving ukraine a fighting chance would.
the only way to think of vladimir putin and the only way to treat him is like a mad dog who needs to be put down because, at the end of the day, that is all he is.
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stevieschrodinger · 3 days ago
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Part One Two
It’s dark. The window is still open, but the chillier air is kind of nice on Eddie’s flushed skin.
The clean bedding is nice too; Eddie tries to remember the last time he appreciated something as nice as clean sheets and draws a blank.
Probably when he still lived with Wayne. Probably before they made it big. Probably before the partying started.
Eddie picks up his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. He presses it.
Wayne doesn’t pick up. Eddie’s not surprised, not really.
He tries Chris; she doesn’t answer either.
Likewise Gareth.
He doesn't bother calling Jeff.
There’s no one else in his phone; Chrissy took it all away when Eddie couldn’t differentiate between a friend a dealer or a booty call.
Like the worst Marie Kondo ever, Chrissy had held up the hundreds of friends Eddie had in his phone, one by one, ‘does this spark joy?’
No. Sometimes sucked his dick, though.
Eddie has money though. He twirls his phone on his chest, flipping it from long edge to short. There’s always somewhere open. Flip. Flip. Flip.
Not like anyone's answering him right now anyway. They’ve just left him here. With fucking Steve. It’s just one time anyway, he wouldn’t get away with it more than once. Chrissy would put him on proper lock down if she found out. Probably shove him back in the clinic.
So...just once.
One last go. And then he’d quit for sure. He hasn’t touched it for months, so he’s pretty much proved he can do it, anyway.
Eddie gets dressed. Finds cash balled up in random places.
Eddie stands in the doorway. Look up at the stars and then across the lawn at the security gates. He hasn’t had so much as a cigarette in nearly half a year. This is fine.
“Where you going, Eddie?”
Eddie sighs. Fucking busted. Still, “no where you need to worry about.”
“Uh hu.”
“Look, I’m not on house arrest okay? I can go out, I’m a grown fucking man.”
“You totally are. You want to go out, you go for it. No skin off my nose.”
Eddie whirls, shocked, “what the fuck? Aren’t you supposed to try and stop me from doing dumb shit?”
Steve raises the eyebrow, “so you admit it’s dumb?” He looks sleep rumpled, wearing sweats and a white tee shirt.
Walked right into that one. “You’re dumb.”
The face again. The totally schooled features that are utterly professional and give absolutely nothing away and yet...somehow...he’s laughing at Eddie. Eddie can feel it.
“So you go out,” Steve saunters over, stands next to Eddie, bare toes curling over the doorstep, “you score or drink or do whatever it is you’re aiming to do. Then what?”
“Then what,” Eddie mimics, all bitchy, “I’ll come home, and I’ll sober up, and it won’t change a fucking thing,” Eddie bites out.
“You think? You’ve had sober spells before, is that how it’s gone in the past?”
Eddie takes a deep breathe, because no, no that is not how it’s fucking gone in the past, “this time is different.”
“Is it?” Steve asks, completely fucking nonchalant, “how so?”
Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to punch someone so bad in all his life. Imagines it viscerally, Steve's fucking head cracking on the door frame while he slumps to the floor in a bloody heap.
Eddie does not do that, obviously.
“Look, I’ll come home, we don’t do anything about it, you still get paid, sound good?”
“I get paid either way,” Steve shrugs one shoulder, because he’s a cunt. “This is how a lot of addicts die, did you know that?”
“What?” Eddie asks, startled by the left turn.
“Yeah, get out of rehab, think their tolerance is still the same, get back on it
” he doesn’t bother to finish.
“That won’t happen to me.”
“Oh yeah, right. Of course. Because you’re Eddie Munson, sorry, sorry, forgot a second there.”
Eddie takes two thumping angry steps into the yard and just...just fucking screams at the sky. Just...roars at nothing. This is shit. It’s so shit. Everything is shit. And Eddie nearly fucking died last time and there’s no escaping that fact. There’s no help. There’s no point to any of this. There’s just pain and fucking misery and something clawing at Eddie’s insides trying to get out.
He roars until he’s hoarse. Until he can’t any more. Until his chin is wet with spit and he feels week and rung out.
He sits on his ass on the cold, dewy lawn.
Steve is still standing in the doorway, he doesn’t look like he’s moved at all. If he’s at all bothered by Eddie’s little meltdown, he isn’t showing it.
“Why did you want to go?” Steve asks finally, "did something change?"
Eddie shrugs, he’s got nothing, not really. No real reason past just wanting to get fucked up. Because it feels good. Because he likes it.
“Okay, what’s worth staying for?”
Eddie makes a dismissive ‘pfffft’, made croaky by his fucked out voice.
“They always say you need to do these things for yourself,” Eddie glares at Steve, because that's some dumb shit right there. Always had it in therapy though. Self worth. Mindfulness. Living in the moment and being proud of what you’ve already achieved and every journey starts with a single step and all that other bull shit they try and feed you. “I know. I agree. When you...feel like you’re nothing, you’re not worth any effort. It’s the hardest time. So pick someone else. Who can you do it for?”
“They don’t care,” Eddie croaks, “they didn’t answer,” he pulls his phone out, flips it onto the grass.
“Who?”
“Chris. Wayne.”
“Okay, give me a good reason why Wayne didn’t answer? That’s your uncle, right?”
“Yeah he...he could be at work,” Eddie admits quietly. Eddie’s given Wayne money. Well, practically forced it on him. Set him up with a nice place; or at least as nice as he could talk Wayne into. Wayne doesn’t believe in free loading though. Eddie’s convinced him to do less hours, but he still works nights two or three times a week. Claims it’s ninety percent of his social life, or some shit like that.
“Okay, and Chris?”
Eddie shrugs, embarrassment over his outburst making him petulant now.
“Eddie, what time is it where Chris is, right now?”
Eddie sighs up at the stars. It’s the middle of the fucking night, “late. Early. I guess.”
“Okay. So they’re not ignoring you, they’re just living their lives like normal human beings. Come on, get up, your ass is gonna be wet.”
“And do what?” Eddie snaps, “what’s the fucking point.” It’s not a question.
“Come on, I want to show you something.”
“It was a tough time, you know? Like, life sucks hard sometimes. Music helps. My favorite is The Wilds, you know? You heard that one?” The interviewer mumbles something indistinguishable, “it’s kind of...like the bit about the shining sea, you know? How like, it’s so beautiful, but it’s fucking hard to sail on. Or like how the mountains are so beautiful, but if you go up there alone, you’re gonna’ die, right? So I think...like how insignificant, and meaningless my life is, in like, the grand scheme of things, but like...that makes what you do even more important, right? Like, it means more, when you choose to be...I dunno,” the kid with a million piercings shrugs, “like just be good to each other, you know?”
“That’s not even remotely what that song is about,” Eddie mumbles at the laptop monitor.
Behind him, Steve snorts a laugh, “well that kid thinks it is.”
Another kid, more makeup than the whole of Kiss slathered on her face, “I just think it has meaning, you know?” The interviewer mumbles something again, “oh my favorite?” A lip bitten in thought, she looks at the sky for inspiration, it’s sunset, Eddie figures. Lots of similarly dressed kids in the background. Takes him a second to realize this was filmed outside of a gig, or something like that. “It’s hard to pick, but if I gotta’, it’s definitely Double Down. Those lyrics are just...Eddie Munson is just...he’s a fucking genius, you know?” She frowns, “but also really fucking dumb soemtimes, I hope he’s okay.”
“I didn’t even write that one. Jeff wrote most of that. On napkins, I think. I just...worked it together.”
Another kid, saying how important Corroded Coffin are; how they helped this kid through hard times. Honestly it’s a difficult watch, Eddie has no fucking clue where Steve even found this, and when Eddie’s phone rings he jumps on it, glad of an excuse to slap the screen of the laptop closed.
“Hi, Eddie! You called, sorry it’s early I got up to go for a run-”
“No. No, it’s fine, I...I shouldn’t have called you so late. Early. You were probably sleeping.”
“That’s okay, of course it’s okay, it’s nice you called me,” she snickers, “you never call me.”
That’s true, and Eddie feels bad. It’s always Chrissy chasing after Eddie. Trying to keep a lid on him...trying to keep him safe. He was always the one dodging her. “Yeah, sorry
” Eddie gets up so he can walk away from Steve, tail between his legs he slinks into the hall, he vows, “I’ll try and do better.”
“Good, how are you feeling? Hows your rut?”
Eddie is not fucking admitting that he just had a breakdown and nearly fucked it all up in the middle of the night. No fucking way is he admitting that, “yeah...yeah, just...couldn’t sleep, you know? I guess the rut...still going. Feels weird.”
Eddie can hear Chris moving around, figures she has him on speaker or something, “uh hu, that’s because you haven’t cycled a proper rut in like, four years honey, these things take time to settle. Is Steve doing okay? You’re not being a cunt to him are you?”
“Well I’ve only thought about punching him,” something jogs in Eddie’s mind, “Chrissy, what happened to the cleaning lady?”
“Oh...we did talk about it honey but you weren't really...taking it in, I don’t think-”
“I was fucked up.”
“Yeah...but she
”
“Just say it.”
“The...you know, the vomit. You were constantly trashing the place. She was worried she was...well she was mostly scared she was going to walk in one day and find your body.”
“Oh.” Eddie slumps down on the bottom step, “that sucks. I liked her.”
“Don’t worry, her final pay was incredible. She got a really impressive bunch of flowers.”
“Oh...well. Thank you. For sorting that.” Eddie’s eyes feel wet. His lip wobbles a little, but he holds it in. He’s got no right to guilt about that, not now. “The place looks okay though, I think Steve’s been cleaning some.”
“Yeah, probably, he seems like a good guy.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, but the first tear breaks free and he knows he can’t hide it much longer, “go on your run.”
“Okay, speak later?”
“Yeah, course.”
“Eddie?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s so great to hear you sounding more like yourself, I missed you so much.”
Eddie hangs up, draws his knees up to his chest, the material of his sweats already darkened with tears.
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ipushhimback · 1 day ago
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this
 is a french braid
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pairing: max verstappen x leclerc!reader warnings: none words: 850?
summary: who could have known that a braid can cause so much drama
It was the morning of the Dutch Grand Prix. You were standing in front of your daughter’s suitcase as you showed her the outfits you packed, none of which Emily agreed to wear.
“But look, chĂ©rie, this is such a pretty dress”, you said hoping that your daughter would finally agree to wear something.
“No. It is not. I want the one Uncle Charles gave me!”, your daughter pouted.
Sadly you knew that Em was stubborn. She wouldn’t just agree to wear something she didn’t want to.
“I don’t have Charles dress here
 Please. Just wear one of these dresses
 Or do you want to wear a jeans? With one of the shirts Papa got for you?”, you asked again, praying Emily would agree to the tiny Red Bull shirts Max got her just a few days ago.
The five-year-old scrunched her nose as she thought about it before agreeing.
“Ok. But I want pretty hair”, she said as she looked up at you.
“A braid?”, you asked as you pulled out the little jeans and Red Bull shirt for your daughter.
Emily nodded. “The pretty braid you always do. The not-just-on-the-bottom-braid.”
“You mean a French Braid?”, you asked while helping your daughter in the shirt.
“Yes. The magic braid that doesn’t look ugly after I run very fast.”
You just nodded as you grabbed the comb from the suitcase and tried to gently detangle your daughter’s curls. Methodically, you parted her hair and placed one strand over another while you listened to Emily rambling about how Uncle Charles promised her that Alex would bring Leo with her and Uncle Arthur had promised her to bring her chocolate to the track.
“And Uncle Charlie said he will give me an own car so I can drive around alone-“
“Charles said what?”, you asked shocked. “A car?”
“Yes, a car. A red one. Like his car”, Emily said dead serious.  
You just stared at her through the mirror, deciding that you’ll have to talk to Charles about that
 car for your five year old daughter.
You finished the braid by wrapping a small elastic around the hair.
“Such a pretty girl”, you said smiling which made Emily giggle.
“You are pretty, too, Maman”, Em said and you had to admit, not even a compliment of Max could compare to your daughter complimenting you.
“Thank you, chĂ©rie. Now, let’s go. Papa is probably already waiting for us.”
“YES! Can I show him my hair then?!”, Emily said excitedly.
“Of course you can. Can we leave now? Is your outfit good? Braids don’t hurt?”, you asked praying that everything would be good so they could finally leave.
Emily thought for a moment but nodded eventually, making you sigh in relief.
“Amazing. Then get your backpack, chĂ©rie.”
—-
Only half an hour later they arrived at the paddock and as soon as Em saw Max she started running towards him.
“PAPA! Look at my pretty hair. Maman did a braid! The magic braid!” The five-year-old turned her head so Max could look at her hair.
“Wow! Such a pretty braid, Em!”, Max exclaimed before he looked closer.
“Liefje, this”, he looked at you while pointing at the braid, “is a French Braid
”
You looked absolutely confused. “Yes? It is the one your daughter requested after not wanting to wear anything
? Is there a problem?”
Max now looked like he might start crying. Seriously, it was the exactly same face, as Emily’s before she throws a tantrum.
“We are at the Dutch Grand Prix! She
 she cannot have a French Braid! We
 we are Dutch! My baby girl is Dutch!”
You looked up in the sky, pinching the bridge of your nose, while telling yourself it wouldn’t be worth it to start yelling now. After the drama with Emily not wanting to wear anything, your nerves were already used up.
“Mon cƓur. I really really love you. But a damn French Braid does not mean she isn’t Dutch anymore
”
Max pouted. “But-“
“No!”, you exclaimed before you could stop yourself. “Max. Next time I will gladly let you braid her hair but today, please just accept that she has a French Braid. Ok?”
Max still looked sad but nodded. “I guess your Maman chose France over the Netherlands”, he whispered in Emily’s ear.
“But Maman is from Monaco”, his daughter said confused.
“Close enough”, Max sighed. “Tomorrow, when it is race day, I will braid your hair, ok? And we will choose a pretty dress.”
—-
The next morning you had the time of your life. You were sitting on the balcony of your hotel room while Max was in the room, trying to get Emily to wear a dress.
“Baby girl, please! This is so pretty! I beg you! Please just wear it. I am sure Uncle Charles will love it!”
You have been hearing Max beg for around half an hour now, even considered going inside to help him. But honestly, you were enjoying the sun and your coffee way too much. Max will handle it

a/n: this was an idea i had in the middle of the night
 i hope it is good hahah
taglist: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234 
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green-butterfly-writes · 14 hours ago
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Little Thief (Part 4)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Summary: Bruce arrives home in the middle of patrol with a cold, broken, scarred kid in his arms and no explanation as to where they came from. Alfred takes care of them.
Notes: this is from Alfred’s perspective, so you also get no context as to how little fox ended up here :)
Trigger Warning for implied/reinforced child and animal abuse. Also Alfred helps reader strip and shower, but that is explicitly consensual.
I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so spelling mistakes are likely to happen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alfred Pennyworth was convinced that Bruce had an adoption addiction. The man couldn’t seem to go more than a couple years before coming home with another child clinging to his cape. Alfred was certain that one of these days he’d get fed up with the ever-expanding list of people he had to care for, and yet every time he laid eyes upon another unfortunate soul brought in by his own sad little orphan boy, his heart melted with care. He loved every one of the young masters with all his heart and soul. He loved his family even if it did expand in the most inconvenient and sudden of ways.
Like now, standing in the cave, looking upon the imposing figure of the Batman, and the child cradled carefully in his arms. The kid had tangled, unkempt hair, soaked, muddy clothes, and bruises just barely visible from beneath the sleeve of their oversized shirt. They gripped onto the long black cape like their life depended on it, and stared Alfred down over their shoulder with blurry, unforced eyes.
“This is Alfred,” Batman’s low voice echoed into the silence of the cave, “I trust him with my life, and so do the others.” The look in the child's eyes softened slightly, and their grip on the cape relaxed. “He will help you.” 
“If you’re willing,” Alfred quickly corrected, not wanting to scare off the child. It was intended to be an offer, but unless you were familiar with how Bruce cared for those around him, it would probably sound like a command. 
After a moment of hesitant consideration, the shaking figure clutched in the Batman’s arms nodded in approval. 
“They are having difficulty walking, so I’ll carry them for now” Bruce informed, and so Alfred led the way up out of the cave, through the first floor and up to the second, into the wing that housed all of the bedrooms, and into a (thankfully just cleaned) guestroom. When that got to the ensuite bathroom Alfred motioned for Bruce to set the child on the rather long countertop.
“Alfred will take care of you from here, ok?” Bruce double checked, and the child answered with a more confident nod, as Alfred sped around the bathroom adjusting the water temperature and gathering supplies.
Once Bruce left the guest room, Alfred turned to his new responsibility. 
“Can you remove the clothes yourself, or would you like my assistance?” The child hesitantly nodded, before pulling off their cold muddy shirt. “You can just drop it on the floor, I’ll clean it later,” he proved at the lost expression they made immediately after. He helped balance the frail kid so they wouldn’t stand on their injured leg while taking off their pants and then helped them to the stool he had set up in the bathtub.
“I’ll wait outside the door, you can yell if you need anything,” he paused for a moment after the words left his mouth — realizing he hadn’t actually heard them speak a word, “or throw something at the door”
The kid obediently nodded again, and Alfred left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 
He sat on the bed and tried to make a to-do list for tomorrow, or consider alterations to the dinner he served tonight, or think about the book Jason recommended to him, to contemplate anything—anything but the cuts and bruises that littered the skin of the malnourished child on the other side of that door. To focus on something other than how badly he wanted to wrap that poor, frail, scarred kid in a soft, warm blanket and hold them in his arms and never let go. 
A thunk sounded from the bathroom as something collided with the bathroom door. Alfred took that as his que to carefully announce his presence, and enter.
“What can I help you with?” He asked, picking up the hairbrush that had been launched at the door. 
“Can you please help with my back? I can’t get it,” came a quiet, tired voice. It was soft, and almost defeated sounding. Alfred made a mental note to make some soup, so they could eat something warm after they rest.
Alfred grabbed a fresh washcloth from the counter, wet it lightly, and pumped a healthy amount of liquid soap onto it before looking to his next task. 
He tried to make his sharp inhale as quiet as possible. He hadn’t noticed before, trying to rush out of the bathroom to give the newcomer some privacy, but their back was littered with scars. Some small, some large. Some seemed neat and medical, thin lines left by careful stitches. Others were thick and jagged, remnants of an injury that never got properly treated. ‘Never again’ echoed like a mantra through his mind ‘I’ll make sure that never happens again’
He lifted the soft washcloth to their back and softly scrubbed off the mud and grime that clung to it. He carefully rubbed up the back of their neck and down their shoulders, making sure to grab every speck of dirt they couldn’t. He tried not to pay too much attention to how dark the water ran. 
With the shower finished and the water off, he wrapped the now clean child in the softest towel he could find and carefully carried them back to the counter, horrified by how easy it was. He helped dry their hair as they toweled off their body, and then dressed them in what clothes he could grab on such short notice (a freshly washed hoodie from Jason and a pair of shorts from when Bruce was much younger and smaller). Then he banged the cut on the child’s face, put a brace on their ankle, and some cream on their dry hands. 
He helped the kid waddle out of the bathroom and into the bed, tucking them in securely, and returned to the bathroom to clean up. 
When he left not even ten minutes later, he found the child curled up on themselves like a ball, nose tucked into the neck of the hoodie, gripping onto the bed like letting go might kill them. He watched for a moment, continuing the seconds between each rise and fall of their chest, making sure everything was ok. They'd need food, and a more thorough medical exam later, but for now they needed sleep.
“I hope your dreams are kinder to you than life has been.” he whispered before exiting the room.
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Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think 💚
Notes:
Sorry for disappearing for
 *checks notes* a month 😅, I rewrote this chapter 5 times. hopefully the next chapter will be out sooner
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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 days ago
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Something More
Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> Since you met Bucky, he's always looked at you with...something more. And you never knew why. One day, you finally find out what he means by it.
Disclaimer: mentions of cheating and swearing, revenge on cheating ex. Bucky deals with said cheating ex. Descriptions of naked/slightly naked Bucky though nothing too explicit. Fluff, found family vibes, Sam and Bucky bickering. Use of nicknames (specifically 'doll'). Not Proof Read.
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“What are you still doing here?”
Bucky had just passed your lab. As far as he was aware, you should have left work hours ago. You should have been getting ready, listening to whatever playlist you’d compiled with Wanda, picking your outfit with that perfect smile on your face as you looked in your mirror to fix your lipstick. 
So why were you still here?
You looked up, looking for him and where his voice had travelled from. Your gaze found him standing back in the doorway. The lights behind him were dimer than they usually would be. After the clocks turned six in the evening, they did that to save on energy – even then, they’d only come on if they sensed someone. Before he’d walked down the corridor, the only lights on had been inside your lab with you. 
“Oh, hey.” You turned back to your work. “Just wanted to get some things finished before tomorrow. Hoping Tony might give me half a day.”
Bucky felt himself chuckle as he walked inside. “You do the work of three people. If you asked him, he’d tell you to take a week off.”
You chuckled because you knew it to be true. But you also didn’t like taking too much time away from work. You actually liked your job and the people you worked with. Some more than most. 
“But that still doesn’t answer my question. Shouldn’t you be on your date right about now?”
Bucky looked at his watch. 9:20pm. 
“Oh, uh,” You tried your best to avoid his gaze as you looked away from him. “Yeah
yeah, probably.”
Bucky studied you. And you could feel him doing so. The way he stood there, clipboard loose in his hand and by his side, his eyes fixed on your body, noticing how your shoulders tensed, how you tried your best to hide away from him despite you both being the only two in the room. 
“What happened?”
“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”
Bucky shook his head and pulled up one of your rolling stools until he was sitting down and facing you. “What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter-”
“Yes, it does.”
You forced a smile, still not looking at him but rather at whatever contraption you’d pulled apart only to rebuild again. 
“No, it-”
“It does because you never hide anything from me.”
“Mostly because I can’t,” you muttered to yourself but by the soft chuckle from Bucky, he’d heard you. 
“What is it? What’s going on? Why are you still here?”
It took you a moment but eventually you put down the motherboard and finally looked at him. “If I tell you, it doesn’t leave this room. I don’t need the questions and I don’t need a plethora of super-humans marching or flying down to defend my honour.”
He didn’t like where the conversation was heading but Bucky reluctantly agreed. 
“I’m not on the date, but Matthew is.” 
Matthew was your boyfriend of three years. Bucky had met him a handful of times and he seemed nice enough, but there was always something Bucky didn’t like about him. How he talked, how he walked, how he seemingly didn’t realise how lucky he was to have you. 
“What are you-”
With your hands folded in your lap, you continued to explain. “The date that I told Wanda about, the one that was meant to be for tonight?” 
Bucky nodded. 
“Well, what I thought was meant to be a surprise for me was actually
a surprise for my best friend. Ex-best friend,” you corrected yourself. “Matthew didn’t think I would find out, but when I asked him if I should take any days off work soon, he said no. I thought it was just a fluke, but it wasn’t.”
“Y/n-”
“Matthew broke up with me a week later.”
“What?”
You saw the subtle changes in Bucky’s demeanour as you told him. How his gaze and eyes grew darker, how his shoulders became stiff and alert, how his fists clenched on the table. 
You took a breath. “Matthew broke up with me three weeks ago, but I’m okay.”
“Okay? Okay? I’ll kill him.”
You shot out of your seat and rushed ahead of him, stopping him in his tracks. 
“Bucky Bucky, Bucky, stop. Stop, okay. Look, I’m fine. And I promise, I am okay. Guess finding out that your boyfriend has been sleeping with your supposed best friend for six months kinda softens the aftermath of the break-up.”
“Six months?!”
“Just
sit down? Please?”
It took a little longer than a minute, but eventually he sat back down and you picked up the clipboard that had been dropped to the floor and handed it back to him. 
“How can you be okay?”
You smiled, even if it was still a little sad. “Because I’ve dealt with it.”
“How?”
“Poured glitter into their new washing machine, as well as onto all of their clothes,” you admitted. “Stole the plate out of the microwave, took the hand pumps out of the soap, threw out the car wax from his cleaning kit. You know, just small things that will cause them a nuisance for a lifetime.”
Bucky felt himself laugh. “Remind me never to piss you off.”
“Don’t have to,” you smiled. “You know better.”
“Yeah, I do. I’m sorry, Y/n.”
You just shrugged, trying to ignore the sting in your heart. “It’s okay.” 
Bucky’s eyes followed you around the table until you sat back down in your seat. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry he didn’t know how good he had it.”
You looked up at him. “Thanks, Buck.”
“I mean it, Y/n. I know you loved him. He didn’t deserve you.”
You felt his words wash over you and settle into your bones. You’d been dealing with the break up on your own. You knew you didn’t have to, but it was easier. Simpler. But hearing him tell you that
it was worth its weight in gold. 
You tried your best to place that familiar look in his eyes as he looked at you. It wasn’t pity, or sadness. Well, maybe a little. But there was something else there. Something
more. You’d noticed it before but even then you couldn’t have given it a name. It was just

Something More. 
Like he knew something you didn’t. Like he was trying to tell you something he didn’t have the courage to say out loud. 
“Want me to take you home?”
You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I can-”
But then he gave you that smile that always made your stomach do a little flip. The way his lips curved in the corner on his mouth, a slightly sassy but genuine look in his eyes. 
“Come on, I’ll take you home.”
With a grateful smile, you smiled and stood up. On the way out, Bucky helped you remove your lab coat before helping put on your actual one. From there, he waited for you to lock up before you finally reached his car and hopped into the passenger seat. 
You’d placed your new address into the car’s GPS and explained to Bucky why you had a new one. 
“Even if she hadn’t moved in, I wouldn’t have wanted to stay there on my own. Knowing everything they’d done together?” You shook your head. “I would have moved, anyway.”
Bucky seemed to adjust himself in his seat, one hand on the wheel as the other rested in between himself and you. 
“Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t tell the rest of us.”
You chuckled, already knowing what he was thinking. You knew you’d have to tell them eventually. And you would. Preferably in a place where they couldn’t all suddenly disappear on you or wouldn’t see the masked pain behind your expression which would only lead to more questions. 
You’d become friends with the team not long after you’d joined Shield. Tony had studied your work, produced in Shield labs and instantly had given you an offer to work with him on a permanent basis. Before you could finish spending the day thinking about it, you had orders from Hill telling you, you were to become the new resident Lab Tech at the Compound. 
You’d worked along-side Tony and the rest of his science team, fixed equipment for the team and eventually found a friendship with them all individually. 
Wanda had been the first one; she’d been looking for someone to talk to since Clint was out for the day for Training new recruits. The next had been Tony and Natasha and very soon after had been Clint, Bruce and finally Steve.
Steve had been away on back-to-back missions which resulted in him being one of the last. Within a week of him returning, you’d met everyone else since Tony had decided to throw a party. 
You had asked why, but Pepper had just told you that to Tony it was “just because” but she’d worked on a mission plan. Charity Gala. She’s planned the whole thing with Peter’s Aunt. 
It was at that gala that Bucky had first met your boyfriend. At the time, you’d both only been dating eight months. 
“Did you buy a renovation?”
You dug into your bag for your keys but nodded. “Yeah. It’s kinda been a nice distraction.”
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
You looked at him, a little offended. “I’m an engineer.”
“I know.” Bucky was still taking in the property. “I’ve met you. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Bucky had seen you build some of the most complicated tech in the world. A handful of times, even Shuri had been shocked and impressed. But he’d also seen you try and build a bookshelf from Ikea on your own. 
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’ve got some weekends free.” Bucky told you. “I’ll help you.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I want to.” 
You were taken slightly aback as you saw the smile on his face. But you smiled back anyway. He’d always had that effect on you. 
“Okay.”
The following six weekends were filled with stripping old paint, pulling out and replacing rotten floors and beams, plastering walls and securing the foundations. The building had been with the bank for almost thirty years. Nobody had ever wanted to buy it. 
You’d guessed it had been built in the forties, or thereabouts. A covered porch had been added on to equal the starting point of the front steps, the shutters on the front windows had either been missing or hanging on by a rotten nail so they were soon replaced. There were three matching windows set at equal distance from each other upstairs. One in the middle and one on either side of it – all facing the front of the home. The garden was overgrown to the point where wildflowers had over run themselves and probably created a new breed. 
The back was much in the same way; a covered porch, windows, shutters, and a larger back garden perfect for an allotment and space for kids or dogs to run around. 
Eventually, those six weeks turned into six months. 
You did what you could within the week and Bucky helped with the rest at the weekends. When Sam found out Bucky was helping, he pitched in, too. Though, he was more helpful when placed away from Bucky and at the other side of the house. That had been something you’d learned quickly. They worked well together but the amount of hours they spent arguing about how to paint

It was safe to say you’d taped out their own spaces in the house and they were not allowed to cross the tape unless they needed a bathroom break or a snack. 
Wanda had been more than helpful on the days where they’d both decided to sneak past the tape and judge each other's work. 
“Hey, hey, hey, would you- Wanda, put me down.”
“Stay in your tape.”
After the first three months, you were finally able to go out and buy new furniture and return the rented ones. 
“Left a bit, left a bit.”
“We need to go right.”
“No, we need to go left.”
Wanda leaned over to you. “How long have they been like this?”
“Two hours. I have tried.”
You sighed and crossed your arms, watching as Sam and Bucky tried to take your new sofa inside. 
“Right, right. Now go up.”
“Up?”
“Yes, up?”
“What are you gonna do? Make it fly?”
Sam just started at Bucky. 
“Oh, for the love of-”
As you threw your arms into the air, Wanda laughed and started walking towards them. Eventually they dropped the furniture and she moved it herself. It fit through your door simply – just as you had expected before the double comedy act decided to take charge. 
Finally, after six long months of stripping, plastering, painting, repainting, rearranging, building, and everything in between, you were finally done. 
You and Bucky lay on the floor together, staring at the ceiling, your beers sweating with condensation onto the placemats. 
“Thank you for helping me.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“As much as I love my new kitchen, I think I’m just gonna order in. What do you want?”
“Where are you getting it from?”
After twenty minutes, you and Bucky had decided on a place and ordered two pizzas with a side of fries. “Half an hour. Right.” You stood from the floor. “I’m going for a shower. You can hop in after me.”
Bucky was glad your back was turned from him since he could feel the heat spread across him. 
“Why?”
“Because you stink.”
You heard him laugh. Since day one, you’d never held back from telling him what you thought. It was one of the things he loved about you. 
Upstairs, you turned the shower and stepped inside only to watch the dust and paint flakes fall down with the water and into the drain. Twenty minutes later, your hair was washed for the third time that week – white paint from your skirting boards following the suds of the shampoo. 
And then Bucky walked up the stairs. 
As he reached the top of the staircase and turned his head down the hall, he called out your name. 
“Shower’s free! Just getting dressed!”
“Hey, uh, I-I left you something downstairs. Feel free to open it!”
“Really? Okay.”
Bucky smiled before walking into your bathroom and closing the door but leaving it cracked open slightly. The steam was still leaving the room and he couldn’t open the window just yet. 
However, what he didn’t notice as he carefully got undressed was you walking down the hall. Fresh in your pajamas which consisted of an old t-shirt and shorts, you towel dried your hair except in the defogging mirror in your bathroom, you caught a glimpse of Bucky. 
Naked Bucky. 
His back was turned to the mirror, his muscles lightly flexing as he moved to draw back the shower curtain and step into the shower. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest or how your legs unconsciously clamped together as you looked at him. 
But as the curtain was drawn back, hiding him from sight, you took in a small breath before hurrying down the hallway, down the stairs and into the living room. 
You were thankful Bucky was in the shower at that moment in fear of him seeing and knowing what the embarrassed and heated look on your face meant. 
The image you’d just witnessed, it was safe to say, was burning into your mind. 
It was the knock on your front door which startled you out from your daydream about Bucky and the way he-
“Hey, two pep- Matthew.” 
What should have been the pizza guy with your pizzas was your ex. 
“What the fuck?”
“Please, please just hear me out,” he begged. “I am so sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have slept with your best friend but I thought that was what I wanted. But-”
“Goodbye.”
“Wait! Please!”
His hand landed on the door. “Please. I-I thought that was what I wanted but these months apart have made me realise something.”
“Look, I don’t know how you found me but please leave.”
“I’m still in love with you, Y/n. I always was. And I’m ready for more, if that’s what you want.”
Down the hall, you heard your name being called. But Matthew didn’t. 
“I should never have cheated on you, but I promise I never will again. It was good, right? You loved me? I loved you.”
“Please leave.”
“I will spend everyday making it up to you because I realised, I am worthy of you. Please, just give us a chance. I promise-”
In the space of about three seconds, you saw Matthew’s face change from begging to terrified and shocked at the same time before the door you were holding onto tightly opened wider from behind you. 
Then you found yourself met with a freshly showered, completely naked save for the towel wrapped around his waist, Bucky. You felt the heat spread across your entire body as you tried your best to not make it obvious how you were trying to remember the moment for a lifetime. 
The definition of his muscles, the way his arm flexed as it remained on his hip, the metal arm behind you, holding the door securely. The way the beads of water dripped down his neck and tracked down his body and into the top of the towel. The way his eyes burned with a kind of darkness you’d only ever seen in him when he was ready to attack, but somehow still remained soft when they fell on you. 
“Holy-”
“What are you doing here?” 
“I-I-I came to get Y/n back.”
“Oh, really?”
You felt yourself smile up at Bucky, for more than just the reason he was making your ex crap his pants. 
“Y-Yes. I’m worthy of her.”
“You’re not worthy of shit.”
Matthew tried his best to ignore Bucky as he turned back to you. “Please. Y/n. I’m ready. Just come home with me.”
“I have a home. A new home. Very, very far away from you.”
“How did you even find this place?” Bucky asked. 
Matthew had to look at him and eventually spat out that your ex-best friend had seen your car turn down the avenue a few weeks back when she was heading to work. So, he looked out for it and hoped for the best. 
It was in a sudden motion Bucky’s right arm reached out and held Matthew up by the scruff of his collar. “You’re gonna forget you ever learned this address and leave Y/n alone. Do I have to repeat myself, or are we clear?”
A clearing cough came from somewhere behind Matthew. 
The pizza guy. 
“H-hi? S-Sorry about the wait. They’re working on the road at the top of the street so-so I-I had to double back.Two pepperoni?”
You nodded and the guy told you the price that had been exchanged over the phone. 
“Thanks.”
“I hope you resolve
whatever this is. Bye.”
Hopping back on his pizza scooter, he headed towards his next address. 
Matthew finally looked back at Bucky who’s stare hadn’t left him since he picked him up. 
“I don’t like repeating myself, Matthew.”
“But she still loves me.”
“No, she doesn’t.” 
That much had been made clear to Bucky over the last six months. He watched you put whatever anger and sadness you’d bottled up and put away into how you’d pulled out rotting beams and how you stabbed and yanked dead weeds from the ground with all your might. 
He also saw it in your quiet moments after that. How you built yourself a home without any reminiscence of Matthew or your ex-best friend, how you found freedom and love in what was around you and how you let yourself date again. The dates didn’t last too long but they always ended mutually – not one sided. 
“She does.”
You practically rolled your head with your eyes. “I really don’t.”
Bucky just smirked. 
“B-but what about our life together?”
“The one you torched when you fucked my friend? Yeah,” you heard yourself laugh. “That will never exist.”
As you went to walk away, leaving Bucky to deal with Matthew, he called out. 
“You can’t seriously be fucking him?”
Turning on your heel, you looked at both of them. Bucky seemingly didn’t react. Until a sliver of unrecognisable courage came pouring forward. 
“And what if I am?”
Bucky reacted to that. Not that Matthew noticed. 
“Not that it’s any business of yours,” you added. 
“But-”
“Goodbye, Matthew.”
As you walked into the kitchen and laid out the pizzas, it was a few minutes before you heard a cry from Matthew, followed by a crash of plywood from the skip that was ready to be collected the next day. 
Finally, the door closed and Bucky walked back into the kitchen, towel still around his waist. 
Walking out from your laundry room, you took the last mental image of a practically naked Bucky, standing in your home, looking sun-kissed and all kinds of handsome. 
“You left some clothes here the last time you stayed over.” Standing in front of him, you handed him his clothes. 
“Thanks.”
Taking them from you, Bucky smirked as he caught your gaze scanning his entire body. 
“How are you feeling?”
Your gaze flicked back to his, acting as if you hadn’t just been checking him out, but the heat on your face gave you away. 
“Good.” You smiled. “Actually, really good. Kinda shocked me when it was him and not the pizza guy- thank you, by the way. For dealing with him. I’m sure there’s some speech I should give you about threats of violence but it was nice to see him scared after everything he did.”
“Clearly he didn’t get a new washing machine.” Bucky held up his hand, small flecks of glitter on the palm. You laughed. 
“You can’t escape it.”
Bucky chuckled, too. “Guess you can’t.”
It was in the silence that followed, your hand holding onto his from when you moved it to see the glitter, that you saw that look in his eyes again. That something more look. He’d looked at you like that since the beginning. 
For a while you thought that was just how he looked at people. But you saw the way he looked at Steve and Sam and Natasha and Wanda. You saw the way he looked at strangers on the street as they walked past him, you saw the way he looked at kids when they walked up to him and asked for his autograph, you saw the way he looked at reporters when they asked about the 40s or asked a question he didn’t like. 
You saw the way he looked at everyone else. 
And then there was the way he looked at you. 
Something more.
You felt yourself step forward a little as he dropped his hand and held onto yours. It was a subtle difference. The way he looked at you, the way he held you, the way he spoke to you. 
It was his turn to step closer. 
Carefully placing his clothes down on the kitchen island beside you both, his other hand reached out for you, brushing the hair from your eyes. 
And for a rare moment, you shocked him. Usually, he knew everything with you. It was rare you had to actually tell him something. He spent that long looking at you, it was almost as if his gaze could stare directly into your soul and know what you needed. 
But this. 
This he didn’t see coming. 
No matter how long he’d hoped for it. 
You kissed him. 
And for a moment he was still, feeling your lips against his. Then it was like he was brought back to life. Feeling your hand in his, he squeezed your hand and you squeezed back. Finally, he kissed you back. His hands came to hold your face as he stepped into you, his kiss matching yours. 
In a few turns, your back was against the counter of your kitchen island, your hands sending goosebumps throughout him as they trailed down his chest, sides and held him closer by his neck and back. 
It wasn’t long before he lifted you onto the counter and your legs spread open for him to step closer. Slowly, the kisses peppered away until you were both left gasping for breath, feeling his forehead against yours. 
“Shit.” Bucky eventually breathed, a small laugh escaping him. And you giggled, holding him closer. 
“You better get dressed before you give my new neighbours an exclusive.”
Bucky looked behind him, realising you were both in a semi-clear view of the blind-less windows. They were getting delivered and installed on Monday. For now, you just had curtains and the panels on the windows. 
Then he looked down. The towel was slowly coming loose from his hips. Then he swore for a different reason. 
“You might have to give me a minute.”
It took you a second to realise what he was talking and blushing about. Then you tried to hide your laugh. “Either you put on some shorts or you give my neighbours an original welcome to the neighbourhood.”
Bucky gave you a look before looking around. Finally, grabbing his clothes, he surprised you with a quick kiss to your lips which made you smile and distracted you enough to let him go. Behind your kitchen island, he slipped on his shorts before removing the towel. 
“Thought I might get a show.”
Bucky gave you another look. “I’d rather save that for when it’s just you and me, doll.”
You hummed, your arms coming back to his shoulders. “Fair enough.”
A shorter silence came over you both as Bucky looked at you again. 
“What? What is it?”
You just kept looking. 
“You’re looking at me like I’ve got two heads.”
“You always look at me like that.”
“Like you’ve got two heads?”
You shook your head. “No. Like I’m
something more. I’ve noticed it for a while but I don’t know
why do you look at me like that?”
Bucky just smiled, already knowing what you were talking about. “Because you are something more, doll. You’re more than something more to me.”
You searched his face for what felt like hours, trying to decipher his cryptic message until it finally clicked with you. His message hadn’t been cryptic at all. It had been staring at you, quite literally, for years. 
Bucky watched as the expressions changed on your face; trying to find his meaning, wondering if you’d found the right one, convincing yourself it wasn’t possible, coming back to your original conclusion, accepting it though not fully, hoping it was true, not wanting to embarrass yourself if you were wrong, being certain you were right, and then not, until finally you’d found the courage to ask him if you were. 
And he just smiled. Freely, and without hesitation, he answered. 
“I’m in love with you, Y/n. That’s why you’re more than something more to me.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You already had someone.” Bucky said, a little defeat in his voice. 
“Had being the key word.” 
He smiled and looked back at you. “I didn’t want to rush things. We
we both needed time.”
Unconsciously, your body moved closer to his touch as his hand traced down your arm before he held onto your hand. Fingers danced around each other before he finally pulled your hand close to his lips and kissed your knuckles, then your palm, and finally your inner wrist. 
Finally, your head touched his. Eyes closed, breaths taking in and let out in sync. 
“I am in love with you, Y/n. I have been for a long time and I don’t wanna rush this.”
You leaned up and looked at him. “Then we won’t. Like you said, we both needed time. And, Bucky?”
He looked at you, again. 
“You’re more than something more to me, too.”
Then he smiled, that genuine if slightly sassy grin. “I know, doll.”
368 notes · View notes
reminiscingtonight · 1 day ago
Text
Guilty
Lia WĂ€lti x Russo!Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: Tis the season for sequels. Featuring a lot of Kyra and Alessia and not so much of Lia
[The Thing About Families Masterlist]
You should have known better than to trust her. 
There’s a reason Steph’s always more than happy to drop Kyra off on your doorstep whenever camp’s over.
There’s a reason Mini looks like she’s gained five years every time the younger girl has been granted privileges to “babysit” her two kids. 
You have a million reasons to not trust her yet you did. 
Why did you trust Kyra with the ring?
Your knuckles are nearly white as you drag the young girl into a nearby unoccupied conference room. Kyra’s looking apologetically guilty, but a delirious haze is starting to take over you. It’s a mixture of horror and disbelief, but at the bottom of it all, you feel beyond stupid.
“What do you mean you lost it?!”
Kyra looks like she’s moments away from crying, but you can’t find it in yourself to be compassionate. You can console her later. Right now you need to get to the bottom of this and try to salvage your relationship with your girlfriend first. 
“I swear it was stashed at the bottom of my drawer but it just wasn’t there when I looked this morning.”
“Well where did you put it?”
“I never moved it! Someone must have taken it.”
You pinch your eyes shut, praying to whatever soccer gods that are above that this was just a cruel joke. This wasn’t really happening and you weren’t about to postpone all the plans you’ve spent months working on. “Kyra, I am begging you not to do this. What am I supposed to do? The dinner’s been booked! The restaurant knows I’m proposing!”
“We can get you a new one! I’ll front it, I swear.”
Forget Kyra crying, you’re going to cry. 
“Unless you’re willing to shell out five grand in the next few hours, I don’t think ‘buying me a new’ one will work.”
The young Australian’s eyes bulge out at the sound of how much you spent on Lia’s ring. 
It’s not a well kept secret that you were going to propose. You and Lia have been together for years now, married in every way except for the official one. Wedding plans have already been discussed, from venues to food to the invitation list. The last thing you actually had to do was the actual proposing and getting married parts.
Though with the ways things are going, you’re not sure you’re going to get married anytime soon. 
There’s a knock on the door but you ignore it, pacing back and forth as your mind races. There’s not really much you can do at this point. The place you got Lia’s ring custom made at is already closed at this time of day, and your girlfriend deserves something better than a last minute generic engagement ring. 
A flash of blonde enters your peripheral just as you make your decision.
“Okay. I think I’ve got a plan.”
“Oh I’ve been looking for you guys--”
“Now’s not a good time, Less,” you wave your sister off, not even bothering to pay her any attention. “Okay Kyra, listen closely because I won’t repeat myself.”
The younger girl nods, determination painted all over her features. 
“I’ll cancel the reservations. That’ll buy me a couple days.”
“Guys--”
“Less. Not a good time,” You repeat, shuffling to turn your back to her to ensure Alessia can’t interrupt again. “The jeweler still has the plans I sent him. I can probably get Gio and Luca to lend me some money, but you have to find where you stashed that ring, Kyra. It wasn’t cheap.”
“About the ring--”
“Not now Alessia!” This time your and Kyra’s voices blend together, neither of you willing to give Alessia a minute of your days. 
She lets out an offended huff and you have half a mind to just strangle her right here and now, your mother’s feelings be damned. 
Gritting your teeth you turn around, not really happy to have to find out what your sister wants. She has free reign to bother you at any minute of any day but why was she so insistent on doing so right now? “What could possibly be so important, you impatient piece of--”
You cut off suddenly, eyes doubling in size when you look down at her hands. 
There’s a velvet box clutched between her perfectly manicured nails, the tiny thing sitting there like it’s mocking you for losing your temper earlier. 
“That’s my--”
“The ring! But-- but--”
“Where’d you find it?”
“Oh god, Lessi I could kiss you, you just saved my ass--” Kyra breaks off, something clicking in her brain. “Wait, where did you find it?”
There’s a slight pause as you wait for Alessia’s answer. 
“Err
 so funny story.” She blows out a breath of air, trying her best to look nonchalant. “I might have been-- actually Kyra hid
” Alessia fidgets, not liking the crease that was growing deeper and deeper between your brows. “IwantedtoprankKyraaftersheprankedmesoItooktheringthelasttimeIvisited.”
She slams her mouth shut the second the words are uttered, but no one says a word. 
An uncomfortable tension settles into the room and Alessia does her best not to wilt to the ground. 
You stare at her.
Kyra stares at her.
Alessia stares at a spot past your faces, nervously shuffling under the weight of your gazes.
There’s no mistaking icy stare or the clenched jaw that proved you caught every word of her fastball confession. 
“You
 What?” There’s an edge to your voice, a tone Alessia rarely was at the end of growing up, but one that she recognizes all the same. The order there is clear, but Alessia’s not so sure she wants to repeat herself out of self preservation.
She shrinks, suddenly wishing she wasn’t so tall. “Um. Well. So Kyra hid my earrings the other day, and I, uh, I thought hiding this would be a funny way to prank her back?” Alessia cringes, not liking the way this all sounds now that she’s saying it out loud. “But judging by the looks on your faces, I’m going to say otherwise.”
Your nose flares but that’s the only response she’s given. 
Kyra looks grumpy, probably the result of taking your misplaced anger from earlier. 
You hold out your hand.
No words are exchanged but Alessia is quick to drop the box into your hand. 
Just as quick as she darts forward to do so, she jumps back, shoving her now empty hands into her pockets. 
“See, no hurt no foul, right?”
Crickets. 
That’s all Alessia hears as she nervously chuckles. 
Neither you nor Kyra have moved, faces giving nothing away. 
At least not until you call the Australian’s name calmly, eyes never leaving your sister’s.
Alessia watches as the two of you slowly peel away from each other. Her eyes keep darting between the two of you, feeling more and more like prey that’s being stalked as the seconds tick by. “Guys, c’mon–”
“Remember how I told you to play nice with my only sister?”
Kyra’s frowning. It’s probably supposed to come off frightening but she looks too much like a kicked dog for it to really do too much.
But the look on your face
 yeah, that was intimidating enough for the two of you.
“Forget everything I’ve ever said. I don’t have a sister.”
Alessia gulps.
“Get her.”
She bolts.
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t-a-a-1 · 2 days ago
Note
Can you do bayverse optimus ?Tlk if you can.It can be whatever you want i love your scrumptious writing hehe also ignore this if you're uncomfortable!^_^
Raindrops
Summary: Optimus asks you a very important question.
A/N: Written after the happenings of TLK. 4K Words
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Raindrops
....
Everyday since he met you, he’s asked himself the same question. 
“Would you come with me?”
It was a question he had imagined the answer to. A resounding ‘no’.
Optimus didn’t see any reason why you would want to go with him to Cybertron. Leaving your friends, family and career behind. All the commodities Earth provided you will be gone the moment you decide to come with him.
And it’s not like he offers you a beautiful home. Cybertron was hostile, after the war it had become ruins. He dreamed many times of showing you his home in its golden age. You would have loved the museums, the theaters, the libraries, the arts. Would you have loved them as much you love your planet? Would it be enough for you to want to stay?
“It seems Earth and Cybertron’s destiny has always been intertwined,” the sun is setting. Optimus looks at his home planet, now on Earth’s orbit. “If that had been any other celestial object, it would probably cause catastrophic events. But it seems like Cybertron was made to not disturb Earth’s gravitational pull and magnetic fields.”
Your field wasn’t physics but you had basic knowledge on how things worked. Just like he expected you to do, you started to ask the real questions. Something he was trying to avoid as long as he could. 
“But I wonder if that’s because Cybertron currently lacks a core 
 Maybe once we are able to restore it, Cybertron’s gravitational pull will be too strong and destroy Earth.”
You look at him but he seems lost in thought. You didn’t blame him, having his home planet back must be unbelievable. After so many years of war and lost friends, what he always wanted is right here. 
“When that happens, we’ll have to send Cybertron back to its original place in the universe.”
You expected him to continue the conversation some way or another but it's as if he wasn’t listening or rather he did not want to. Maybe he is tired of everything and wishes to leave immediately. Probably not wanting to deal with humans anymore. 
Sighing heavily, you turn around, the wind moving your hair. The smell of the grass was strong and so a new aroma. It was hard to describe. Metal but alive. It was probably Cybertron. It didn’t bother you but it was different. 
Looking back at Optimus made you realize that maybe he wanted to be alone. It is a lot of process for today. 
“Well, then I guess this is goodbye–”
And suddenly, a servo is in front of you. Stopping you from walking any further. You look back, only to find Optimus’ faceplate extremely close to you. 
“I-I 
 My apologies, I don’t know what took over me.”
It’s like you triggered something in him with your words. But you weren’t sure what. Now he looks confused and lost. As if I wanted to say more but can’t or don't have the words. You wanted to guess but your mind made you believe stupid ideas. Ones in which you prefer to not indulge any longer. They will only cause you unnecessary pain. 
“It’s alright, you must be emotional. That’s all.”
You wait for a few seconds in which you could see Optimus’ blue optics in all of their glory. They were beautiful as they were mysterious. So close that you could see the small circuitry and cables that make up his optics. Such intricacy that you find yourself lost in them. 
And then 
 you are ashamed. 
“I must go.”
You say as you look away, expecting him to move his servo but he doesn’t. 
“I must go.”
You say again and this time you see the hesitancy in his faceplace.
He slowly removes his servo and distances himself from you. His optics looks away and then looks at you in a repetitive manner. 
“Do you–”
“I–”
“Oh sorry, you go first–” You raise a hand, trying to get his attention only to be interrupted by the Prime. 
“No, you go first.”
It was awkward. And the fact that it was that way made you wonder what went wrong. In what moment did things between the two of you become so uncomfortable? Was it just the sudden realization of final peace? Was it too unrealistic for the two of you to believe? What is it? 
“Nothing, I was just wondering if there’s something you wanted to say before I leave?”
Optimus servo clutch into fits. He opens his intake but nothing would come out. It was strange to see him this way. So confused, so 
 innocent. As if he was a kid trying to ask for another piece of cake. Too shy to ask and yet you find these small moments to be a treasure. 
“I was just wondering 
” 
He hesitates again. He closes his optics and lets out a heavy vent. Turning his entire body around, you are unable to see his faceplate. 
“When the time comes 
 Will you 
”
His voice becomes so low that you are unable to hear him. 
“What?” 
You ask him, confused by his sudden lack of confidence. 
“Will you 
 me?”
He says again but the loud wind and low tone voice weren’t helping the situation. 
“... What?”
You ask once again, your voice gets louder, showing your clear annoyance at being unable to hear him.
“Will you come to Cybetron with me?!”
Suddenly, he turns around, you can see his faceplate again. 
It was that expression again. One that you had only seen a few times. That of pure distress. Worriness. Anxiety. You had seen it before. During that time you had been captured by a Decepticon, badly injured and bleeding. His troubled expression was the last thing you saw before going unconscious. 
But now? What was that distressed look for? What was he so worried about?
“I, I–”
What were you nervous for? Why were you stuttering? Your cheeks are getting hotter and you can’t speak. You can’t manage words. The expression on his faceplate had left you stunned as your brain tried to understand the reasoning behind it. 
The longer you take to answer, the more pain is evident on his faceplate. His eyebrows squish together and his optics tremble. His lips formed a thin line that slowly became an upside down smile. He is begging you to end his torment and yet you know you have to tell him the truth. 
.
.
.
.
It’s quiet around the hangar. 
A small base had been built near Stonehenge. It was the logical thing to do after Cybertron had appeared above the ancient pillars. Although the American Government wasn’t too pleased to make negotiations with the British to let them have a base in their land. 
You weren’t even supposed to be here but due to all the commotion in the last days, they let you stay. As well, Optimus and the rest of the Autobots enjoyed your stay. No one asked you when you will leave nor ever mentioned that you were a bothered. So you decided to stay for a couple of days until things settle down. 
And because your boss had asked you to stay and bring back the full story when you are done. 
“Are we just going to pretend Prime is ok?”
“Not like we can do much either or.”
They probably didn’t see you. As they were too busy talking to each other, carrying a few boxes of what you thought to be Energon. Meanwhile, you were typing on your laptop behind some piles of metal. It’s not like you were hiding but you rather found yourself a place where you could not be bothered when you needed to concentrate. 
“I still can’t believe (Y/N) said no 
 I thought the two of them had a strong bond.”
“Yes but everything she knows is here,” Bumblebee puts down his box as Hot Rod walks close by.  “Besides, they were too different 
 things wouldn’t work out.” 
“But does she even know that Optimus’s processor has identified her as his Conjunx?” Hot Rod also puts the Energon box down and sits on top of it. “Boss-Bot won’t be able to attach to anyone ever again 
 Isn’t that a bit cruel?”
“Cruel?” Bumblebee inquiries. “His Conjunx is someone who lives a fraction of our lives. The universe enjoys the game and the Primes are the pawns.” 
“And they know how to play well.”
It started to rain. It wasn’t unusual for rain to come and go in England. 
The bots look at it with amusement. This was unknown in Cybertron. It will take a long time before they can rebuild Cybertron and go back home but this will be one of the things they will miss the most. 
“What is a Conjunx?”
You came out of your hiding spot, behind the bots and they quickly stumble in their steps as they look down on you. 
“What are you doing there?!”
“What is a Conjunx?”
You ask again, not caring whether Hot Rod or Bumblebee looked like they just had seen a ghost. 
“You don’t need to know that,” Bumblebee quickly starts to walk away while Hot Rod keeps looking back and forth. He looks hesitant but doesn’t speak, waiting for Bee’s next action. 
“You said Optimus saw me as his Conjunx,” you don’t move but rather speak loud enough for him to hear. 
“Yes but there’s no need–”
“She should know,” Hot Rod interrupts the talking yellow Mustang. 
“Optimus wouldn’t want it,” Bumblebee stops walking and turns to look at his comrade and you. There is certain determination in your eyes, letting him know that you won’t stop pushing it until you find the answers you were looking for. You had always been known for that, probably something Optimus likes about you. 
“Optimus will die of sadness if she doesn’t know.”
Bumblebee doesn't say a thing but just ex-vents heavily. 
.
.
.
“Would you stay with me?”
That’s what you wanted to ask but you already knew the answer. A resounding ‘no’. There was nothing for him on Earth. Humanity had once betrayed him and now he is doubtful. Humanity will help rebuild Cybertron and after that the transformers will leave. It would be a selfish thing to ask him to stay. You can’t ask him to give up on everything he fought for. His home, his family and friends, everything was on Cybertron. And you just were a human who wanted him to stay. 
It’s still raining. 
But that doesn’t mean you’ll stop looking for him. 
Although you can already feel yourself getting sick. Your hair is wet and your clothes damp. 
It wasn’t unusual to rain in England but you hated how unpredictable the weather was. The wind was also strong but the base was already too far away to back away now. You had to find him. 
Suddenly, a truck you immediately recognized makes his way towards you. The bot you were looking for appeared in front of you but he aggressively stops and opens his pilot door, signaling to go in. 
You didn’t hesitate and jumped right in. Optimus closes the door and starts driving away as you are welcomed with warmness. Although you were cold and tired, you didn’t wait any longer.
“I was looking for–”
“Have you gone mad?” Optimus asks, his voice showing his clear annoyance. “ What are you doing in the rain without proper protection?”
“What? That doesn’t matter, I was–”
You wanted to start asking questions but you started to sneeze. 
“How can I leave knowing you are this helpless?”
And after that, all previous questions left your mind. 
“Excuse me? I can take care of myself.”
“Your actions tell me otherwise.”
You roll your eyes, maybe he had a point. Running in the rain to look for him was probably not the best of ideas. But you were not about to tell him that. 
“And what about you?” you sneeze again although more softly this time as to not to prove his point any further.  “Aren’t you too told to be outside without an umbrella, you could be getting rusty anytime now?”
Optimus didn’t say a word. Your words will resonate at the back of his processor. He can’t believe he ever thought you would say yes to coming to Cybertron with him. You were right, he was an old rusty robot. Too many scars, too many mistakes and injuries. He can’t provide you with anything. Not even a family. 
And yet he is selfish. 
And you sneeze again.
And again.
“Great, I think I am going to get sick.”
He hates that word. Cybertronians also get sick but rarely. But humans are different. According to his research and observations, humans tend to get sick often and tragically a lot of them die. 
Optimus didn’t want to say a word, his pride told him to stay quiet. That you don’t need his concern, you do not wish it nor want it.
But you sneeze again.
“I’ll be taking you to the closest hospital,” he says as he makes a turn, heading for the closest road. 
“I am not going to the hospital, it's just a cold–”
“You are going to the hospital and it's final,”His voice is demanding but you don’t care.
“No, I won’t–”
“Why won’t you take my feelings into consideration?!”
His inside trembles. You could feel how his engine gets louder. The air coming from his vents got warmer and for a moment you felt your heart race. Out of guilt for making the Prime lose composure.
“What if you die?” he asks again. “What would I do after you are gone?”
The more he talks, the more desperate he sounds. As if he was living the circumstances he speaks of. 
“Have you thought what my life would be like without your presence?” you feel the seatbelt across your chest get tighter. “Do you really wish for me to be tormented for eternity.”
“This isn’t about me going to the hospital, is it?”
He doesn’t respond, his silence answers your question. 
“Let me out Prime, I want to talk to you, face to faceplate.”
He drives off the road and takes you to a heavy section of a nearby forest. Raining still, the tall trees prevent the rain from fully touching the ground. But some drops still make it through. Not like you cared about getting wet, you already were but Optimus had other plans. 
Opening the door and removing the seat belt, you jump out of his alt form. You watch him transform, a scene you will never be tired of. It's beautiful as it is scary, yet he is gentle. He knows it can be scary and he moves slower, softly as if not to scare you. 
Optimus doesn’t mass shift but he tries to see you at an eye-level. It must be uncomfortable for him and before you ask him why he doesn’t size-down, you feel him move closer.
He puts one of his large servo on top of you, protecting you from any rain from touching you.
“I want you to be honest with me,” you say as your breath is agitated, your heart pumping against your chest.  “I need to hear it from you.”
“What do you feel for me?”
Without you knowing, Optimus’ spark is also pulsating strongly against his chassis. He moves his optics away for a second, only for them to return to look at you. 
“You are a valuable asset to the Autobot cause.”
“Is that all?”
“You are also an important comrade.” 
You didn’t expect him to fully understand what you were asking. But you were hoping he could read your undertones. 
“I am giving you one last chance,” you say, your hands turning into a fist. You weren’t the best at this either and if you were honest, you didn’t know what you were trying to achieve.  “Is that all you feel for me?”
The Prime has always been known to be eloquent. Especially with words. But when it comes to you, he loses all sense of vocabulary. It didn’t use to be that way. There used to be a time when you meant nothing to him but a friend. 
But you had never stopped looking for him. After the attacks in Chicago, even after Sam’s death, an occurrence in which he blamed himself, you never stopped looking for him
What is it? Why did you do it?
“Look at the rain 
 Can you count each drop that falls from the sky?”
Optimus moves his optics to look at his surroundings. The rain, the trees, the beauty of nature. It cannot compare to you. 
“No, I can’t,” you respond quickly, your face full of wonder.
“Then, you are the rain,” he says.  “And I am trying to count.”
He sees your hands soften. Your expression had become awkward, with now avoiding eyes and pink cheeks. He has this need to hold you but respects your anatomy. 
“I can’t tell you how I feel because there are not enough words to describe it,” he calculates his words but he finds himself taking longer to answer. “I could recite you all of Cybertronian poetry and yet that doesn't feel enough for me.”
You keep looking at him and he looks away. Your eyes were too beautiful and it distracts him immensely. 
“But if you were to ask me to count each star in the universe I would,” he lets his spark do the talking, finally subsiding the yearning it has been holding for a long time.  “If you asked me to bring you a star, I would bring you a constellation.”
“This old rusted body belongs to you but if you ask me for my silence and distance, I won’t retaliate.” 
“And if I asked you to stay with me, on Earth, would you do it?”
You know it was a selfish question. You didn’t want to make him choose between his world and you. But you just had to know if there was a small possibility, a small chance that the life you had with him could still be a possibility. 
After the accidents in Chicago, you had looked for him, only to find him broken. Sam’s death had affected him greatly but in that grieve of losing loved ones, something sparked. 
Three years. You had lived with him for three years, in an isolated cottage. Where he could have all the dandelions he wanted. Where he could care for animals and the two of you would look at the stars and try to count them. Each one of them. 
“If that’s what you wish,” Optimus says. “I would stay by your side as long as you would have me.”
“I can’t,” you look away this time. “I won’t ask you to stay with me.”
“You have a duty to complete and Cybertron is your home,” there is more to it. More doubts than you are able to articulate.  “When you asked me to go to Cybertron with you, I said no because I don’t think I am worthy to be on your side.”
“Have my actions made you feel this way?” 
“You are Optimus Prime 
 I think anyone would feel unworthy,” you pause, thinking about the earlier events. “But today, Bumblebee and Hot Rod told me that you see me as your Conjunx.”
Optimus opens his intake only to close it. He looks side to side, trying to evade eye contact. One of the few times you can tell he is shy. But him acting in such a way has also made your body betray you. You wonder if he can tell just how nervous you are. 
“Does that mean — You do?”
“You weren’t supposed to know,” his voice is delicate with an apologetic tone. As if you had just caught him stealing extra energon from the resource room.  “Without noticing, my processor had one day started the Conjunx Ritus and as time passed, we both successfully completed the requirements.”
“And before I knew it, my Spark belonged to you.”
“But we are so different.”
“And yet here we are,” he makes a pause and he hears the rain. He tries to calm down before asking his next question, knowing that this will break his Spark. “Does my affection displease you?”
“No, no, I just–” you stumble with your words. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Is there a possibility that perhaps, in your heart, you reciprocate my sentiments?”
And you stay silent. Mostly because you don’t fully know what is going through your heart and the implications behind it. Can this even be possible? Are your feelings even real? Can he comprehend what your feelings are? Can this 
 Whatever it is, be real? 
“Please end my torment,” his faceplate looks to be in distress, his optics yearning. Longing for something unknown to the both of you.  “Your silence makes me have hope and I don’t want to suffer when you destroy my delusions.”
Gently, you walk towards him. You reach out a hand and touch his faceplate. Rubbing your soft skin against his cold metal. You watch his optics close, his engine gets louder just a bit but you hear him. As if your touch had saved him, healed him from whatever his processor agonized him with. 
“You are cold,” you say as you put your forehead against his faceplate. “Until you get warm, I’ll stay with you.”
Optimus didn’t need to ask further. You didn’t have to say anything either. He just basks himself into this moment. Not knowing what the future holds but he doesn’t care as long as you are with him. This moment won’t last forever but he wants to think that one day it could be true. 
A moment were he believed he could spend eternity counting the raindrops and stars in the sky with you. 
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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A/N: Sorry this took so long. I’ve seen all the Bayverse movies but TLK is a movie that is a bit hard for me to write about because I don’t understand it much lol. But I still hope you like this and that it's not too OOC?  
It was fun to write this! So thank you so much for the request! :) 
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halliejaade · 3 days ago
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Here's a little one shot from my upcoming JoaquĂ­n Torres x Female Reader fic, Edelweiss. It's a childhood friend's to lovers fic and I am so excited to share it with you all!
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Tick...
Your knee bounces rhythmically.
Once. Up. Down.
Twice. Down. Up.
You pause. Once, and then twice again. You're not sure what it is about the combination that calms you, but you've always done things in pairs. The clock in the corner ticks loudly, reminding you that in only an hour you'll have to say goodbye.
You never quite mastered that; not when your childhood dog, Lucy, passed away. Not when the blip happened and everyone you loved just... disappeared. And certainly, most definitely, you didn't think you could bear this.
JoaquĂ­n grins nervously at his mother, who smooths out the wrinkles that apparently only she can see on his tan T-shirt. You weren't sure how he was able to make the uniform look so good, but somehow he pulled it off. He ran a hand over his cropped hair, before turning to you.
"Don't look so sad, rain boots," He says, attempting a bright smile. The nickname makes you laugh somberly.
You had only been twelve when you moved into the house next door to his. For whatever reason, for an entire year, no matter the occasion, you refused to wear any shoes other than your bright green rain boots. JoaquĂ­n had adopted the nickname for you after you became friends, and had never stopped calling you it.
Tick tick...
You blink owlishly, willing the tears to dry before they can spill over your lash line.
His mother glances between the two of you. "I'll just be over there for a moment."
She joins your mom at the cafe which is probably too expensive for their tastes, but is a good reason to allow the two of you this last moment together in the busy airport.
"Do you have to go?" You ask quietly, fiddling with your favorite bracelet.
He steps into your space, his boots coming toe to toe with your dirty sneakers. The sight causes a tear to finally spill down your cheek.
"I'll visit when I can, okay? I swear to you." He whispers, placing his hands on your shoulders. The look you give him after makes his heart squeeze painfully.
He hates seeing you so sad. Hates the fact that he's the reason you're crying.
"Please-" You hiccup, "Please be safe, JoaquĂ­n."
Tick tick tick...
One moment, you're standing toe to toe with him, and in the next, you're pressed close to his chest. You turn your face into his neck, his arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders.
"You remember when we were little and we always played heroes?"
You nod, before sniffling. You had never cared much about the Avengers, hadn't cared much about paying attention to things like that, but JoaquĂ­n was always so excited that you couldn't help but fall in love with the concept of the superheroes.
"I'm finally making that dream come true," He says into your hair. "I'm gonna make little me proud."
You tighten your arms around his torso. "I'll be the first to buy your figurine when you inevitably save the world some day."
He pulls back, and looks into your eyes. "I'll miss you so very much, Y/n. But I'll write to you, and I'll come home whenever I can. I'll be safe. I swear."
The prospect that he'll write you letters makes you giggle. "You remember the letters?"
He nods, his own laugh escaping his lips as he recalls how twelve year old you thought it was so romantic that soldiers sent letters home to their loved ones. "I'll do anything to make you smile."
Tick tick tick tick...
An announcement screeches over the speakers.
JoaquĂ­n frowns slightly, before letting go of you. Both his mother and yours abandon their coffees, and join you back near the gate.
"I have to go now," He says, as if the announcement didn't tell you that already.
Boom.
Another quick round of hugs goes around before JoaquĂ­n grabs his bags and leaves.
"Do you think he'll turn around?" Your mom asks.
JoaquĂ­n's mom nods, "Y/n is here. Of course he will."
As if on cue, he turns, right before he's out of sight. He waves to your mother's before his eyes land on you. He sends a wink your way, and mouths, "I'll see you before you know it, rain boots."
You only hope that he's right, and that he'll come home safe and sound.
122 notes · View notes
megs-1800 · 2 days ago
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No Strings Attached
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Summary: Friends with benefits is always difficult especially when one of you catch feelings. Will Mason have the same feelings or will you lose him forever?
Pairings: Mason Mount x Reader
Word Count: 11.2K
Warnings: Angst, Fluff and Smut
“T-that was i-incredible” Mason pants as he rolls off me and flops himself on the bed next to me trying to catch his breathe. “Our sex always is incredible” I say rolling onto my stomach crashing my arm onto his chest whilst he tickles up and down it. I look into Mason’s eyes which I can see the spotlight from the ceiling are making them sparkle. Fuck he is so gorgeous. Mason sits up and looks at the time “I probably should make a move, I got training early tomorrow morning”. I give him puppy eyes hoping he would stay but I knew what I signed up for. Mason and I met a year ago, my best friend Paige is dating Ben Chilwell, she introduced me to Mason at a party of theirs. At the time I was happily engaged but the bastard ended up cheating on me, well turns out he was cheating all along. Me and Mason got drunk and ended up sleeping together, but from there we kind of just stayed a type of friends with benefits, he was there for me when I needed and vice versa. ‘No strings attached’ we said. “When am I next seeing you?” I ask and Mason gives me a smirk as he looks me up and down. “I will call you yeah”. I wink at him knowing he always calls.
I didn’t hear from Mason for the next couple of days but that’s not out of the ordinary, we go days not talking then we can go days with non-stop talking. I could say he is on the border of being one of my best friends, if I being honest he knows me better then I know myself sometimes, but I feel like we could never be proper friends due to our activities together. I throw myself on the sofa after a awfully long week, I turn on the TV and see that United are playing, it’s a Saturday early game so not much else to watch and thought it would be nice to show Mason some support. That’s why Mason hasn’t been talkative he has been putting his all into preparing for the game I thought. However 38 minutes into the game I watch how the opposition player tackles Mason and takes him completely down, I watch how he is screaming and rolling around in pain. I can see the pain in his eyes, I know he is more annoyed at being taken off rather than the pain of the tackle, he has worked so hard to get back and already being subbed must kill him. I quickly text him knowing that when he is free he will respond:
Y/N: How you feeling? x
I couple of hours passed and I hear my phone buzz and looking down and seeing Mason has replied:
M: Like shit how do you think I am feeling
Y/N: sorry silly question x
I feel bad for him but I didn’t know what else to say, I am taken back by his bluntness but I know he is hurting right now, I know deep down he doesn’t mean it. Another hour passed and my phone buzzes again:
M: Sorry y/n/n its just so frustrating you know I worked so hard for what, to play 38 minutes its just shit. The press has already slaughtered me, I just feel like shit but I don’t mean to take it out on you xx
Y/N: Don’t listen to the stupid press they just want a story. You are amazing Mase, injuries happen that’s the joys of being a footballer but don’t let them get you down. You know I am always your number one fan. I will whip you back into fitness in no time ;) xx
M: I can always count on you to make me laugh. Chilly said you are out with Paige tonight but I don’t suppose you can come here beforehand please? You can get ready here, I just hate being alone right now xxx
Y/N: I am already on my way superstar xxx
I quickly pack all of things that I would need for the night and then make my way to Masons. Everytime I go there it leaves me speechless, it definitely puts my one bedroom flat to shame. Mason opens the door, I can see he is wearing a pair of shorts and has he left ankle wrapped and is limping to the sofa. “Can I do anything?” I ask assessing his wounds. “you can do a lot of things” he raises his eyebrows and smirks seductively, he quickly continues “I am joking, you can get me a jumper please I just cannot bring myself to tackle the stairs yet”. I nod and quickly run upstairs and grab my favourite hoodie of his. I run back down the stairs and give it to him, he looks at me and smiles “how did I know you were going to get me this one” he laughs “am I that predictable?”. I make me and Mason a cup of tea and come join him on the sofa. He puts his arm up so I can turn my body into his chest, he has his ankle rest up in front of him. He continues to stoke my hair and we sit there in silence for what feels like forever. I go to look at the time, “jheez I gotta start getting ready” I start to move which Mason holds me tighter. “5 more minutes you have no idea how easy you take away the pain”. I smile into his chest, I love that I have that impact on him.
I look at myself in the mirror as I make one more curl in my hair, I am wearing a short black dress with laced sleeves and I matched it with a pair of black heels. I carefully make my way downstairs, I watch as Mason’s eyes look up from his phone and his eyes follow up and down, as I do a little playful swirl “you look insane” Mason states and I can feel myself blush. As I walk over to get my bag I heard my phone ding, I walk over to check it and my face drops “whats up?” Mason looks at me concerned. I take my heels off and flop myself on the sofa next to Mason “well that’s Paige cancelling last minute- again!” I groan. Mason looks at me sympathetically “has she cancelled on you a lot?”  I nod to his question “yeah since she got with Chilly she has all her WAG friends now so I am kind of second best. I still love her but I guess she has more important places to be” I say defeated feeling sorry for myself.
Mason smiles “well we can party here?”  I look at him and laugh “what with you that has one leg and is on strong painkillers so cannot drink? Great party!” I joke back. Mason clutches his chest where his heart is like I hurt his feelings “ouch!” I jab him in arm “thank you for making me feel better. Well I guess one good thing is I could go and put a tracksuit on and stuff my face now” I start to make my way upstairs when I hear him shout “You can wear that new tracksuit of mine that you like, I will order your favourite”.
I am laughing away with Mason, I am wearing his new Gucci oversized tracksuit, its massive on him so it drowns me but I am so comfortable. “I have never known someone who looks as beautiful all dressed down as they do all dressed up. You are going to make someone a real lucky guy one day”. I can feel myself blush at Mason’s words, he always knew how to pull on the heart strings. “Why you being so cute Mount? You wanna get into my knickers or something?” I heard him laugh and then lean in close to me “Maybeee?” I snigger at his comment “well you are in no state to ‘rock my world’ tonight Mase” he learns back and raises his eyebrows at me “Maybe but I bet even with my injured ankle I am still the best sex you ever had”. I laugh, I love how he has such a big ego.
Another hour passes, “its getting late I best get going” Mason gives me pleading eyes “please stay y/n. I need help to get up the stairs please” I nod “okay  I will help you up the stairs and into bed then I am leaving”. Mason gives me a slow nod in response but I can tell there is something deeper in his eyes. I help him hobble up the stairs as I allow him to put the pressure onto me, I am struggling under his weight but I am determined to get him there. We eventually make it to his bedroom and I help him walk over to the bed. “I still cannot get over this room, this room is the size of my whole flat”. Mason shrugs his shoulders “perks of being a footballer I suppose”. He starts to get underdressed and I quickly shield my eyes “right I need to be going. Thanks for tonight Mase”. Mason pats the spot next to him in bed “why do you hide away its not like you haven’t seen it all before, but come join me” I hesitate for a minute but I know he will win. “There is a pair of my boxers and tshirts in the drawer you can wear for now” I thanked him and put them all.
His glaze doesn’t leave mine as he watches me get into his clothes “I have never known someone to look so fit in a pair of mens boxers you know” I am taking that compliment. I throw the covers back and join him in bed “I never get over how big and comfy this bed is” I stretch out as I show gratitude to the bed. Mason leans in and tickles up and down my sides which gives me goosebumps, he then extends his hands strokes the sides of my face “you are so beautiful never let anyone tell you different” I lean in closer to Mason so our lips are brushing against eachother “you are full of compliments tonight Mount”.
With that our lips come crashing together, our tongues fighting for dominance which I eventually allow Mason control, I always end up giving into him. I can feel Mason grinding his hips into mine and the blunge between us becoming apparent, Mason moves him lips to my neck and I cannot stop the moans that come out. I reach down to take him in my hands and I feel Mason stop my hands, I look at him confused. “I am not going to last long I need to be inside you” I nod knowing exactly what he means, I am in no mood for foreplay I need to feel that dick stretch me out. He removes his pants and climbs on top of me and puts legs so they wrap around his waist he slides the boxers I am wearing to the side and slowly lines himself up with me. “F-fuck” he moans into my neck “I love feeling that pussy stretch out for me” Mason starts a slow pace then it hits me “Mase your ankle lets swap” I offer. Mason shakes his head and continues his pace, I can hear him getting harder and faster and I know that he is close and he is edging me closer too. I can then feel his pace slow down and then I see him wince “swap” I demand and Mason gives him and flops down next to me “sorry I want to ruin you right now, bloody fucking ankle”. I kiss him to shut him up as I climb on top of him, I usually hate being on top as I am insecure about my body but Mason makes me feel so comfortable, I have no objections. I line him up with my entrance and slowly lower myself down, we grown in unity as I start to bounce up and down on his dick. He removes the tshirt I am wearing and starts playing with my tits, I can feel his fingers grazing over my nipple as he is inching me closer to my orgasm. “uh right there M-Mase r-right t-there” I moan as I come undone all over his dick, with that I feel Mason’s dick twitch inside me as he moans my name into my neck.
I flop off him as we both catch our breathe “see injured and I am still the best sex you ever had” which he winks at me. “Who said that you was the best sex I have ever had?” I tease as we both know he was the best guy I have slept with, “I think from the way you just screamed my name as you cum all over my dick had something to do with it”. I quickly get up and get cleaned up and bring Mason in some tissue as I know he is going to struggle to get out of bed. I go to get dressed as Mason stops me “what are you doing?” I look at him confused “I am getting dressed what does it look like I am doing?”
Mason shakes his head “stay with me tonight”
“Isn’t that breaking one of our rules ‘no sleepovers’ remember you were there when we set them”
“Yes and now I am saying lets break this one just for tonight. Please it will be nice not to be on my own. You know in case I need the toilet or something” I know there is more to that but I am not going to argue.
“Okay just this once” I reply as I throw back on the tshift I was wearing earlier and climb back into bed with him. Mason grins like the Cheshire cat as he pulls his arm out so I can lay on his chest. The small sound of his heart beating sends me to sleep.
A wake up as I see the sun drifting in through the blinds, I see Mason hobbling out the bathroom “Hey you are not supposed to be walking without support” I scold him.
“Well if I waited for sleeping beauty to wake up I would of exploded I have a bladder of a child” he giggles as he hobbles back to the bed and throws himself next to me. “Whats your plans for today?”  he asks
“Not much I am helping one of the girls I work with move this afternoon, so probably have to leave soon” Mason pouts at that statement, “what about you Mount?”
Mason looks down like he doesn’t want to tell me the next part “Rebecca is coming down to spend time with me today”
I look at him confused as I bring his chin up to me so our eyes meet “whos Rebecca?”
Mason looks back down again as he didn’t wants to meet my gaze “she is a girl I have been seeing?” I jump out of bed at this comment.
“What the fuck are you talking about Mason? We just had sex and now you wanna tell me you are seeing someone. What the fuck Mason!!!” I am now screaming and throwing my hands around. I am starting to get dressed as I am shouting.
“We said no strings attached Y/N”
“I know that Mason! I don’t mean it like that, I mean that you have cheated on that poor girl with me. You have made me the other women that’s disgusting Mason! You know I have been cheated on why would you do that to me!” Mason gestures for me to sit at the end of the bed so I do, hoping he will let me calm down.
“We are not exclusive, we have only been on a couple of dates. We haven’t even slept together yet. I know its wrong Y/N you just do these things to me, you make me feel so much better and I know I do the same for you. I am sorry we can stop now if it will make you feel better.” I give him a look so he knows I am not impressed but I know nothing is going to change what happened so no point dwelling on it, so I nod in agreement.
“No more sex but still friends yeah” I lean to him and put out my pinkie finger. He wraps his pinkie around and places a kiss to it. “the best of friends” he replies.
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A year has passed since that morning and Mason and I have kept our word and haven’t slept together. We are still close and talk near enough everyday but we are just keeping it to friendly flirting and not taking it any further than that. I miss that closeness though, I feel like I haven’t been able to feel that closeness with anyone else. Even with my partner James its different, we have been dating for nearly a year, I met him shortly after Mason and I’s ‘no more sex’ pact, Mason is still dating that Rebecca, it seems to be going well. I am happy with James, he is successful and passionate and loving and everything I should want in a man, but I don’t know I feel like something is missing. Maybe that’s just me being silly, always looking for a ‘but’ in a relationship. Maybe this will be my happy ever after, after all.
“Pleaseeeeee come out tonight y/n/n! It won’t be the same without you” Paige begs on the phone.
“I don’t know Paige. It’s a very A list party I am not sure I would fit in babes”
“Oh come on Y/n you said that James is working so what else are you going to be doing on New Years Eve. I hate the thought of you sitting at home on your own pleaseeee. You know us and Mason is going to be there.” The thought of Mason there does heal the anxiety of going a little bit.
“Okay Paige I agree I will think about it okay”
“That’s all I am asking babes. Love ya”.
I am still not sure if I want to go or not, I am constantly fighting with my head. Paige is hosting a New Years party at Ben Chilwell’s but my anxiety is going through the roof of the thought of going to the party with all these famous people and I am just little old me. I just got home from work when I get a text message:
M: Please tell me you are going to Chilly’s NYE Party! Paige said you haven’t got back to her yet. Please I need to see drunk y/n, I haven’t seen her in a long time. She is a laugh, give the people want they want!!! Drunk y/n drunk y/n! xx
I giggle at his message and quickly hit reply.
Y/N: I don’t know, my anxiety isn’t great Mase there is going to be a lot of people there and I will literally know Chilly, Paige and you. But at the same time work has been mad recently so would be nice to let my hair down. Aww I don’t know Mase xxx
M: Pleaseeeee do it for me xx
Y/N: Okay you have persuaded me. You are my weakness Mount. I will see you there xx
It takes me days to decide what to wear for New Years Eye, I don’t want to be too dressed up as its only a house party but I don’t want to show up not making an effort. Its got to NYE, I finished work early so I got time to get ready but I still have no idea what to wear. I have finished my hair and makeup but just no outfit.
M: What time are you getting there for? I am staying the night so I can come and get you on the way if you want? X
Y/N: Thanks that would be great. I will be ready for whatever time you want me ready for xx
M: Ready for 7? X
Y/N: Perfect! Well it would be if I knew what to wear x
M: You look amazing in anything! Wear that white thing with the trousers and the fluffy bits I like that one x
Y/N: Thank you but I have put some weight on since I last worn that so I don’t know x
M: Well try it on and see I bet you will still look amazing ;) x
I quickly find the outfit he is talking about and snap a photo of me in it. I really don’t know about it but I send it to Mason and see what he says.
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M: See I knew I was right. I am leaving mine now so see you soon xx
Mason messages me when he is outside, and I make a way to his car. He is wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a nice top. “See I knew I was right you look lovely” I can feel myself blush “thank you Mase you look really nice too. I just don’t know if it’s a little tight around the stomach” I say trying to grab the material away from the stomach feeling insecure. I watch Mason’s eyes flicker up and down over me “you look amazing! Now stop it we going to have a great night!” I nod knowing he was right, tonight is going to be the best.
The rest of the night is amazing, Mason barely leaves my side as we speak to others at the party. I know he can sense my anxiety I even feel his hand rub my waist when he can sense I am uncomfortable, he always knows how to make me feel safe. I am on drink ‘I cannot even remember’ now and I can feel myself start to get a little tipsy. Mason looks over me with his hand wrapped around my side as he looks down at me “so where’s James tonight?” for a second I want to say ‘who is he talking about?’ due to the alcohol consumed. “He is working tonight. What about you? I am sure Rebecca would of jumped at the chance to be at a NYE party with you? I like Rebecca she is sweet”.
I can feel how tipsy I am with how unstable I have become on my feet “she is a nice girl. She is with her family tonight though. She thinks a lot of you though y/n, she really likes you too”.
I pull away from Mason’s grip “yeah she wouldn’t like me though Mason if she knew we slept together when you first got together”. I watch Mason’s face drop as I know he feels as guilty about it as I do. “Come on lets not dwell on that, lets just enjoy the night” which with that he grabs his arm around my waist.
The rest of night I can feel my anxiety start to fade with the amount of alcohol consumed. I loose Mason for a little while but with the liquid courage I have brought myself to chat to other people. I am dancing with a couple of girls that I have got chatting too when I can feel someone behind me and wrapped their arms around me, at first I thought it was Mason so I settle into it a little but then I felt their hands roll down the outside of my thighs and pushes their body into mine. I hear them whisper into my ear “I love the little show you put on for me. Shake it for me baby”. I quickly tense up and I turn around realising I have no idea who this guy is. “Who are you? What are you talking about?” I suddenly feel uneasy and try and back away from the guy. “Come on don’t be a tease baby. I know you were shaking it for me”. I watch how his eye darken and he grabs my waist. I can feel his fingers digging into me whilst his other hand wraps around my wrist. I suddenly begin to panic. “please let me go” I beg, but he doesn’t reply he just tightens his grip.
Suddenly I feel another’s presence “If I were you were mate I would let her go”. I feel the grip loosen slightly. I know that voice, Mason!  I see the guys face turn from lust to anger “and who are you mate? She wants it! She has been dancing in front of me all night telling me she wants it. Look at her of course she wants it!” I can feel my heart drop do I really look like a slut? I was just trying to have a good time. I watch the rage in Mason’s eye’s “I will say it again I suggest you let her go before we got a problem.” The guy lets me go and squares up to Mason “yeah is it now. I suggest we take this outside”. I know Mason isn’t a fighter and I really don’t want him to get injured over me. I take Mason’s hand “come on just leave it Mase its not worth it.” I plead for Mason to drop it, not wanting to make more of a scene about it. ”Stay out of this you little slut! If the famous Mason Mount thinks he can try it with me, then lets go!” Mason doesn’t reply all I see is a swing and Mason’s hand colliding with the guys cheek which knocks the guy onto the floor. Chilly and a couple more people seeing the commotion quickly dragged the guy out whilst Mason looks at me and then quickly storms into the kitchen. Feeling embarrassed with all eyes on me I quickly run to the bathroom.
I can feel my heart beating in my chest, I cannot believe Mason just hit that guy. I can feel my eyes starting to water. Mason is always there to save me, but he didn’t need to do that. I compose myself after a couple of minutes and make my way back to the party. I bump into Paige “are you okay babes? I don’t know who that guy thinks he is? I don’t even know who he is I think he is a plus one”. I wrap my arms around Paige and settle into the hug “I am okay Paige, honestly. Well thanks to Mason I am. I am probably going to make a move though that guy has ruined my vibe”. Paige pulls away from the hug “no please y/n/n don’t leave!” I hesitate “I need to go find Mason and check he is okay”. Paige nods “I think he is in the kitchen”. I thank her and made my way to the kitchen.  
I turn the corner and I can see Mason having a conversation with a couple of the boys “come on man! There was no need to punch him” I hear one of them say, I hear Mason grunt “he was groping her! Then you should of seen the way he spoke about her it was fucking disgusting I didn’t mean to hit him I just flipped”. I hear one of the cough and they all look up to me which the other men remove themselves from the kitchen.
“How you doing?” he asks me, I melt at his compassionate.
“You are asking me how I am doing? You are the one who punched someone. Hows your hand?” He lifted his hand up so I could inspect his knuckle. He winces as I touch the wound. I grab the bag of ice that is lied on the side and put it back onto the knuckle, which Mason hisses and swears. “I’m sorry”.
Mason looks at me and grabs the side of my face “what are you sorry for? He was the asshole and it was my choice to punch him. None of this is your fault”. Mason uses his un-injured hand to place a stand of hair behind my ear. “Don’t listen to a word he said. You look incredible and you deserve to dance and have a good time without being harassed.” He shoots me a reassuring smile. Which I return.
“Thanks Mase for saving the day! I am probably going to make a move now tho. I just want to forget tonight ever happened”. I see the sadness in Mason’s eye.
“What?! You cannot leave now. Its New Years in an hour come on just see the New Year in then I will let you go. Please I punched a guy for you, the least you can do is stay for me”. He jokes the last part but still it has persuaded me.
“Okay Okay you really are my weakness Mount. I will stay for you, but just until midnight” Mason gives me a toothy smile in return. “Just until midnight” he repeats back.  
The rest of the evening is a laugh, I continue drinking  and I am now totally smashed, which looking at Mason he is the same. We are dancing away together, chatting away with everyone. It gets to the New Years countdown and we are all cramped into the living room counting down together. As the numbers are getting smaller, I am not sure what to do. 12
.11..Should I kiss Mason? 10
9.. Mason looks down at me, I am wondering if he is thinking the same? 8
.7 Mason wraps an arm around my side and holds me closer. 6
5.. He closes the gap between us I look between his lips and his eyes. 4
3
2
1
 before I know it our lips are connected. I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer as we continue to kiss. He pulls away and I see him bite his lips “happy new year beautiful” I lean in again which Mason returns the kiss as we pull away I talk “happy new year Mase”. I can feel butterflies in my stomach, right now in this moment, everything feels right.
Another hour passes and I can start to feel the alcohol wearing off, I say my goodbyes to Paige and Ben and I continue to walk round trying to find Mason. I haven’t seen him for the last 20 minutes which was weird as we have been attached at the hip during this party. I really don’t want to leave without staying goodbye. I look everywhere I can think of but he is nowhere to be found where can he be? I thought. My uber messages to say they are outside and I know I need to go, I check one more place before going Ben’s spare room. I knock lightly on the door and slowly open the door. I see Mason sat on the bed smiling at me “there you are!” I grin “I have been looking for you”.
Mason gets up and comes to meet me at the door, “I came to say goodbye, my uber is outside”. I explain. Mason doesn’t say a word and continue to look at me. We continue to stand there in silence, “okay well thank you for tonight. Its been the best night, and you know thank you for saving me and all that. So I guess I will see you soon”. Mason still doesn’t say anything and I can feel the air between us is weird, its never like this between us I wondered what’s happened. Mason then closes the gap between us, he brings my chin up so I am looking into his eyes. There is a sparkle in his eyes, Passion! He slowly lowers himself down and I can feel our lips brushing against eachother, it’s a slow loving kiss. It’s a kiss we have never had before. Mason hands lower and I can feel them brushing against my bum, he gives it a little squeeze before he continues the kiss. This time the kiss is needy as I can feel his tongue dominating my mouth. We both pull away fighting for breathe “I really gotta go my ubers waiting” Mason hums into my mouth as he continues the kiss “then go then” he kisses me, another deep kiss “or I can refund you the money you paid for the uber and you can stay here”. Mason and I continuing to kiss and right now in this moment all I can think about is the growing bulge between us. I can feel myself fighting with my head.
Mason rips his shirt over his head and exposes his toned chest, my lips water at the sight of it. We haven’t been this intimate in a year. I run my fingers down his chest as we continue the kiss, I can feel him moaning into my mouth. Mason turns me round and I can feel him grinding into my bum, which his dick is now rock hard. He starts to kiss down my neck and I know he is leaving me a hickey, I can feel the zipper of my jumpsuit and before I know it I am left in my underwear. Mason turns me around and looks me up and down “fuck you are so beautiful” he says making me blush and my instinct is to suddenly try and cover up. He grabs my arms away “come on its me. No need to hide away”. Our lips are connected again, I help Mason remove his trousers so we are both left in our underwear. Our hands are exploring eachother’s bodies, I can feel myself moaning as he brushes over the spot I need him most. That’s when reality hits me I quickly pull away “Mase what are we doing? We cannot do this?” Mason pulls away and takes a deep breath “I don’t know y/n you just do something to me. I just can’t handle myself around you. If you don’t want to do anything then its fine you can do home.” We both stand there, staring at eachother. My heart bonding through my chest whilst my head is fighting with my heart.
I wrap my arms around his neck “Mase I don’t know! I got James and you got Rebecca. We cannot do this to them. What if they find out?” Mason is continuing to tickle up and down my back “I will repeat y/n if you don’t want to do anything we don’t have too. But why are you worrying about them finding out? Its only us here”. I know he was right, I jump onto Mason which he catches me and wraps my legs around his waist. We both look into eachothers eyes and I can feel my heart melt, “I’m guessing that means you have opted in for the best sex of your life”. I roll my eyes as Mason walks me over to the bed and throws me down.
He quickly joins me and climbs inbetween my legs, I know what I am doing is wrong. I know I shouldn’t be doing this to James, but its Mason, its like he has a spell over me. All thoughts of James disappear as Mason kisses down my body, he unclips my bra and I can feel him flip my tipple through his tongue and slowly grazes them with his teeth “m-mase” I whimper. Mason continues to kiss down my body until he is finally at my core. He lifts my hips up so he can remove my thong then leaves a trial of kisses up my thighs, I try and contain my moans as I know we have to keep quiet but its so hard when I can feel his hot breathe on my pussy. He gives me one long swipe with his tongue and I scream out his name. He giggles and looks up at me, I give him pleading eyes begging him to go back to where he was “as much I love hearing you scream my name y/n we need to be quiet so we don’t get caught okay”. I nod in agreement hoping he will quickly return to where he was. Mason focuses on my clit and I can feel myself coming undone underneath him, Mason quickly inserts 2 fingers inside me as his tongue pays attention to my clit. I grab the pillow next to me and place it over my mouth to give me something to bite down on to stop me from screaming, I am a mess from Mason’s touch “fuck I have missed your fingers and mouth. Its so fucking good!” I am able to mutter which I can feel Mason smile into it. I am so close “go on baby let yourself go I know you wanna”. I relax my body and I can feel myself hitting my high, I try my hardest to be quiet but his name escapes my lips a little too loud.
Mason hovers back over me “I am sorry I didn’t mean to be so loud” I cover my face a little now feeling slightly embarrassed. Mason shakes his head “Baby girl you screaming my name is my weakness”. I smile into Mason as connect again, I can taste my cum in his mouth. I help Mason remove his boxers and his dick suddenly springs free I reach inbetween us and start to slowly pump him. I can feel him moaning into my neck from my touch which is giving the confidence to keep going. I connect my mouth to his neck and I start sucking away giving him a matching hickey to the one he gave me earlier “U-uh y-n d-don’t stop” he moans into my neck. I quickly flip us over so I am now in control, I can see the lust in Mason’s eyes as he watches me kiss down his toned body. I reach his cock and play around with it in my palm, I give the top small kisses and licks and then put it into the back of my throat as I choke on it, I know Mason loves it when I choke on it. I can hear Mason mutter words of recognition which is urging me to go harder and deeper. Mason reaches down and starts playing with my hair as he pushes my head down onto his cock when I hear a loud moan escape his lips. He quickly brings me back up so we are eye to eye again. “I need you” he begs.
Understanding exactly how Mason feels I climb back into my seated position and line myself up with him. Mason quickly stops me, looking at him confused “whats wrong?” I ask. Mason quickly shakes his head so I know its nothing that I am doing wrong. “Last time we slept together, me ankle was all messed up. So this time I wanna be on top, I need to absolutely ruin you y/n”. With that Mason flips us over so he his hoovering over me, placing all his weight on his arms that are either side of my head. Mason lines himself up with me and we both watch eachother as it goes in, I can feel myself stretching due to his size. Mason gives me a couple of seconds to adjust and then starts his rhythm. He is starting to speed up and I know he has got the pace that he wants, he starts hitting the spot and I can feel myself seeing stars “fuck your cock is so good”  I manage to get out. “Believe me its nothing compared to this pussy, fuck yeah just like that”. Masons thrust have become sloppy and I know he is close. “You got another one in there for me baby” I nod my head as I cannot manage any words, Mason is destroying me. He pins my hips down and gives another couple of hard thrusts and with that I unravel onto his cock. This helps Mason hit his high as a couple of seconds later he quickly pulls out “fuck yeah shit so f-f-ucking good!”  he moans as he cums all over my stomach and flops next to me on the bed. “Have I told you before how incredible our sex is?” Mason asks, I giggle in response “Yes, you have actually a couple of times”.
It’s the best night sleep I have had in ages, I roll over and Mason has his back to me. I allow myself to trace his the outline of his muscles with my fingers as he groans in appreciation. He rolls over to meet my eyes. “I gotta get going soon” Mason says bringing me out of my daydream. I look over at the clock and see its 11am “Yeah I need to as well. I need to sneak out before anyone sees me here”. Mason laughs knowing I am right. I get myself out of bed and force my feet into the ensuite, I gasp as I see the purple bruise that is glistening on my neck “Mason what the fuck! How am I going to go home with that?” Mason is quickly behind me, and laughs. I turn around and give Mason a stern look “Its not funny Mason how am I going to explain this?” Mason shrugs and turns his neck so I can see the matching hickey on his too “see you got too carried away as well y/n. You are not the only one who has explaining to do”.
I groan and storm back into the bedroom and flop onto the bed “we are horrible people Mason, I cannot believe we did that. I cheated on James. I hate myself”.  I can feel the tears pricking in my eyes, Mason crouches in front of me so he is in between my legs, he quickly uses his thumb to wipe away the tears “come on don’t cry. We both had a lot to drink and got carried away. No one needs to know okay it can be our little secret. I hated doing that behind Rebecca’s back but last night was amazing I am not going to regret that”. Mason always knows what to say to make me feel better. He brings me to stand so we are facing eachother “No more sex” we both say together. My head is all over the place, I don’t know why I let myself do this to James but Mason has something over me I cannot explain. I just wish it wasn’t this complicated.
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Another 6 months has passed and Mason and I kept our word ‘no more sex’, its been like before NYE. No awkwardness has occurred and we have pretended nothing ever happened, we have never spoke about it since, we still talk everyday he is still my best friend though. Just to me this time feels different. James and I have been amazing, he is so kind and caring and I still beat myself up for what happened but I cannot change the past, I just need to focus on the future so I have decided to put my all into the relationship. I know James loves me as much as I love him, I never knew how I got so lucky with him. We had the best day when he asked me to marry him, I was so shocked as it was totally unexpected but of course I said yes, I would be stupid not too.  Paige is having some girls over tonight and invited me over too, Lauren, Declan’s girlfriend was there and few other WAGs.
I sat with Lauren chatting away about life and I was telling them all about the engagement and them all gauging at the ring. That’s when I heard the whole group conversation turn about Mason. “I cannot believe Mason and Rebecca broke up like what the fuck” Paige says.
“I would snatch him up in a moment” one of the single girls of the group who I know as Monica contributes. I look at everyone confused, they broke up? Why didn’t he tell me?
“What they broke up?! Why what happened?” I turn to Lauren thinking out of all the girls she would know the answers.
Lauren shrugs “I don’t really know much. Apparently Mason became really distant and Rebecca thought there might be another girl. Mason always denied it but I agree he really didn’t seem that invested in the relationship recently, he seemed pre-occupied.”
“So what who ended it?” another girl asks but I am sitting at the edge of my seat waiting for Lauren to reply.
“Mason ended it, apparently he couldn’t deal with her constantly accusing him of there being someone else. I agree with Rebecca though Mason has seemed different its only been recent I would say since like New Year. He has totally distant himself from the relationship, maybe its for the best they both weren’t happy”. I can feel my heart beating in my chest.
“I’m surprised Mason didn’t tell you. Usually he tells you everything” Lauren continued turning to me.
“Yeah I guess he has decided to keep girl troubles out of our conversation this time”. Which I gave a little laugh which the whole giggle in reply. The conversation changes topic and everyone is engaged in conversation, I go to make myself another drink when I feel a presence behind me, I saw Lauren standing there. “What happened New Year?” she asks, I can feel my heart pounding, I like Lauren and I don’t wanna lie but I am not sure what Mason told her or not?
“I-I um-um not sure what you are talking about Lau” I try and act dump
“You know Declan and I stayed at Chilly’s that night too. When the party finished we walked past the room where Mason was staying and we could hear muffle sounds, it sounded like he was sleeping with someone. Then first thing in the morning I was downstairs when you tried to sneak out. So what happened? I am not dumb you know. I won’t judge whatever it is. We tried to ask Mason about it but he wouldn’t give us a straight answer”.
I look at Lauren in defeat I know she has found out our secret. “Okay okay I slept with Mason on New Years Eve.” I look down trying to not meet her eye, admitting it now makes it feel real.
“WHAT!!”  I quickly grab Lauren and move her to the other side of the kitchen away from where the other girls are sitting. “Shhh will you keep your voice down no one else can know please”. I plead with her.
“Why didn’t you just tell me. What happened? How did you two randomly just get into bed together. Tell me everything”. Lauren picks up the glass of wine next to her and starts taking a couple of sips, knowing that she wants the gossip.
“Okay me and Mason had been a kind of friends with benefits since we first met.”
“Nooooo shut up!!!” she squeals
“let me continue
” she makes the action of zipping up her mouth and lets me continue.
“So well remember when he hurt his ankle..” she nods “well that’s when everything changed. I went round there to comfort him and well one thing let to another and we ended up in bed. I actually stayed the night which never happened. The next morning he told me he was starting to see Rebecca so we called it quits. Shortly after I met James and everything was fine, me and Mason were just friends and no lines where blurred”.
Lauren took another sip of her drink “so what happened New Years then?”
“Well obviously we both had a lot to drink, and then it kicked off with that guy started to make advances to me and he called me a slag and all that then Mason punched him and I don’t know maybe it was the heroic action or the amount of alcohol consumed I generally don’t know. I went to say goodbye and one thing let to another and we ended up in bed together. We woke up both feeling like shit so we agreed to not discuss it. Please I already feel awful about it, please don’t say anything to James.”
I am now starting to panic but Lauren is quick to assure me “babe my loyalties are with you not James. So whatever is said in this room stays in this room okay. So whats happened since because Mason has been all over the place have you guys continued to sleep together or what?”
“No nothing like that Lauren. We have agreed nothing will happened since that night and me and Mason are still close and talking everyday but nothing like that. Well I thought we were close but he didn’t tell me he broke up with Rebecca so god knows”.
“I have no idea what goes on in that guys mind. So whats Mason like in bed anyway? I would feel like his ego couldn’t match his performance if you know what I mean”. She is now giggling away like a little school girl.
I take another sip of my drink now feeling the after effects of the alcohol. “he is amazing Lau! Like obviously I would never tell him this because I wouldn’t want to boost his ego more but he is the best sex I have ever had. The way he makes me feel damn no one comes close”. Lauren smirks at me.
“So tell me again why you and Mason are nothing more then ‘just friends’?”
“I am engaged Lauren” she nods slowly but I can tell she knows there is lot more to that answer.
“Come on we should go back before the girls wonder where the hell we are?” I nod in agreement.
“I will be right in just need another drink”. I wait for Lauren to leave the room before I let out the deep breathe that I didn’t realise I was holding in. I cannot believe he broke up with Rebecca but why didn’t he tell me? Was it because of me? I need answers.
The next couple of hours I am completely distracted, all I can think about is Mason. I have drink after drink before I am completely tipsy. I say my goodbyes to everyone as my taxi notifies me they are outside. I wrap my arms around Lauren and thank her as it has been good to get it all out, “call me if you need anything”. She says and I know she means that. Before I knew it the taxi was pulling up outside Mason’s house, I hesitate for a minute. I don’t even know why I am here. Before I even walk up the steps I see Mason emerging from house, he looks confused until he recognises it was me. I go to say something but the taxi man interrupts “love you need to pay” I quickly look for my bag and then the realisation hits me “shit I left my bag at Paiges”. The taximan does not look amused but Mason just giggles “typical y/n. No worries I got this mate”. He turns to the taximan and chucks some cash at him and helps me inside.
“Soooo I-I heard you b-broke up with Rebeccaaaa” I slur before Mason even shuts the door, I am struggling to get my words out due to the alcohol consumption. Mason stops in his tracks.
“that’s why you are here”.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I say pouting
“It wasn’t anything to really tell. Rebecca kept accusing me of being absent and had it in her head I was cheating on her. It was constant arguing I couldn’t be in that toxic relationship, I have had them with my exs I couldn’t do that again.”
“Well she wasn’t wrong about the cheating” I say plopping myself on the sofa, Mason rolls his eyes and sits next to me.
“I am sorry I didn’t tell you. I have just had so much going on it kind of escaped my mind but I am sorry. You look lovely tonight you know”.
I can feel myself blushing. I hate that he has that impact on me. “So now tell me y/n why are you here and not at home with your fiancĂ©?”
I take a deep breathe “I don’t know”
“Come on y/n of course you do”.
“I spoke to Lauren tonight. She said she heard us on NYE then saw me leaving the next morning she asked about us. It actually felt good to tell someone the truth. I am sorry I know we agreed to keep it a secret.”
Mason is tracing lines across my cheek and smiles “its fine y/n I am not angry. Before I broke up with Rebecca I came clean to Declan so chances are Lauren already knew she was probably just giving you the chance to tell her the truth. I had to talk to someone I had to get it out”.
“I love you Mason” I blurt out.
Mason drops his hand from my cheek, and shuffles back. “What do you mean you love me? You are engaged y/n”.
“Mason I have loved you from the first night we met. The way we connected, the way you made me feel. The only way we could ever be close enough was ‘friends with benefits’ so I accepted that’s all we are going to be. But now Mason I am not sure if that’s enough, I fucking love you Mason. I love the way you make me feel, the way you know me better then I know myself. Come on Mason you cannot tell me you don’t feel the same”. I don’t know where this courage as come from I am guessing its going something to do with the amount of drinks I have done.
“Y/N I will repeat it again it doesn’t matter how I feel you are engaged.”
“Lauren said the reason why you broke up with Rebecca was because you became distant like you were focussing on someone else. Are you seriously going to tell me that wasn’t me?”
“No y/n me breaking up with Rebecca had nothing to do with you! Not everything is about you. We had sex y/n that was all it was. No feelings, no strings attached remember that’s all we were. We used eachother to make eachother feel good at our time of need that’s what we were y/n. I am sorry if you caught feelings but this is what we were, nothing more.” Mason spat out. I wanted to be sick and I can feel tears starting to prick in my eyes. I hate myself how could I let myself confess my feelings for someone who doesn’t care. I start to sniffle to hold in the tears and make a beeline for the door.
“Y/n wait!” I hear Mason shout. I quickly turn around on my heals.
“No you are right Mason. That’s all we were, it was me being stupid. How could someone like you ever catch feelings for silly little m-m-me”. I stutter the last part and the tears are now completely falling down my face, I run out the house and never look back. I can feel my heart shattering into a thousand pieces, how can I have these kind of feelings for someone who I am not even engaged too? How can I feel this way about someone who doesn’t love me back.
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Mason’s POV- 6 Months later
 After a couple of rings Declan picks up the phone “Mason I got your messages mate, I am not replying for a reason, please you cannot do this”.
“Please Dec understand she needs to know how I feel. She needs to know how I feel before she marries the wrong person”.
“Mase don’t you think you have put that poor girl through enough. Just let her be”.
“I can’t Dec. I have tried to put her out of my head. I can’t please Dec. I love her”.
“Then if you loved her Mase you wouldn’t hurt her, on her wedding day on all days”.
I know deep down Declan was right, I just cannot let you go. I cannot let you make the worst decision of your life. Ever since that night I have beat myself up with how I acted, I just never thought you ever felt that way about me. Please, look at you, you are the most perfect women and I never thought you would get with a guy like me. I tried to ring and text you everyday since that day but you ended up blocking my number and I even showed up at your flat which you refused to open the door eventhough I knew you were home. I would give anything to go back in time and admit my feelings too, I should of never let you go. And now its probably too late.
Chilly was invited to the wedding as Paige was the Maid of Honour, I asked Chilly to give me the address of the wedding. He fought very hard to not give it to me, I am not sure if he knew what happened between us but he must know me asking for the address of the wedding will not end good. Eventually I got it out of him. I couldn’t sleep all night I was so worried about what I was going to say to you tomorrow, I have to give myself a chance, a chance for love.
I walk through the venue and its absolutely breathtaking, I look at all the little details and I know that is totally your input. I know you would have everything looking perfect. I pump into one of the waiters “oh sorry” I quickly apologise. He looks completely shocked.
“Oh my god! You are Mason Mount! Can I get a picture?” I agree and he quickly snaps a selfie and thanks me.
“What room is the bride in?” I ask
“Down the hall and to the right is the bride’s suite”.
I thank him and quickly hurry down the hall. I can feel my palm’s sweating I don’t want to burst into the room with a load of people in there. I wait outside hesitating if whether I should do this when Paige comes out. She scowls at me, she definitely knows what has happened. “what are you doing here Mason? If its what I think don’t even think about it. I will tackle you to the floor now”. She laughs but I know she is totally serious.
“Please Paige, 5 mins that’s all I am asking. Please.” I see Paige hesitate but looks around down the hallway.
“ 5 mins okay. She is on her own but we all coming back in 15 minutes to get photos done and I want you gone by then”. I nod grateful for her.
“Thank you Paige” I hug her and then make my way to the door.
I hesitate again but I know I am wasting precious time, I quietly knock as I hear the ‘come in’ from the other side. You quickly spin around as our eyes meet. You looks absolutely incredible, I have never seen someone so beautiful. I can feel my mouth go completely dry.
“Mason? What are you doing here? I thought me blocking you was enough of an understanding for you.”
I am stood still in my tracks, I still cannot get over how mesmerising you look. “I-I’m sorry you look unreal. Wow absolutely incredible”.
I took a step forwards in which you take a step straight back to remain the distance between us. “Thank you but I will repeat Mason what are you doing here?”
“I-I’m an idiot” is the only thing I can get out. I have never been this nervous my mouth is totally dry.
“Yeah no shit” you spit back. I kind of deserved that.
“5 mins y/n please” I grab your hands in mine and this time you don’t pull away. “I love you y/n”
You let go of my hands and shove me away I can see the tears starting to appear in your eyes as you try to look up to prevent them from falling down. “No Mason. No fucking way you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to par me off when I confess my feelings then want to wait until my fucking wedding day to confess yours fuck you Mount!” You are now starting to get heated.
“I tried y/n. You blocked me remember and refused to open the door. This was my only chance”
“D-Don’t you think you hurt me enough. Now you g-gotta come and ruin my wedding day too why Mason”.
I hate that I am making you cry, especially when you look that beautiful. I slowly close the space between us trying to not make you flinch, I slowly wipe away the stray tears that have fallen down. “I needed you to know how I feel before I lost you forever.” You start to sniffle and I can hear you trying to control your breathing, you do not incept so I continue. “Y/N I have always loved you. From that first moment I met you, I was taken back by how someone could be that beautiful on the outside was so beautiful on the inside. Our sex is amazing, I have never connected with anyone on that level before. But its not just the sex y/n, I love how you listen and understand me. You are always there when I needed you. You know me better then anyone else. I was stupid y/n and I shouldn’t of said what I did. I didn’t mean it none of it was true. The reason why I left Rebecca was because of you, I guess I started distancing myself from her because every time I looked at her I started comparing her to you and I saw everything that she wasn’t. Fuck I love you y/n and I am a stupid stupid man for not confessing my feelings to you that night. I was scared I have never felt for someone the way I feel for you and it scared the absolute fuck out of me. Please y/n you cannot tell me those feelings have just gone away”.
I can hear your breathing now as your struggling to breathe, I rub your hand trying to get you to calm down. “Please y/n even if you don’t want this, then please can we still be friends. I cannot live my life knowing that you are not apart of it. These past 6 months have broken me, you can ask anyone”.
“M-Mase I cannot do this now. Why did you wait until now to tell me all of t-t-this. I-I g-get m-married i-inn 30 m-minutes.” You are struggling with your words and all I want is to wrap you up in my arm and take away the pain. I know there is nothing I can say or do, its too late you have made your decision and you are marrying him. I can feel the tears starting to fall down my face as I watch the love of my life marry another guy.
“I-I’m sorry for everything y/n. If I could rewind time I would do this so much better I promise. If your change your mind I will be at the docks in an hour waiting.”  I place a small loving kiss to your lips, I know I shouldn’t but I needed to feel the softness of your lips on mine one last time. I can feel both our tears running down our faces onto our lips as we pull away. With that I turn around and walk straight out the venue, knowing deep down that I have lost you forever.
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I look at the time, and I see its 3pm. The wedding was taking place an hour ago. I look around the docks but I cannot see you. I look down and flip my hoodie over my head as I let the tears fall down. A small part of me thought you would change your mind, but here we are I am wrong again. I walk a couple of steps and I feel a tap on my shoulder.
I turn around to see you standing there, you still have your bridal hair and make up on but you have got changed into a tracksuit. Looking over the tracksuit I actually realise that’s mine that I have been looking for, for ages, but that’s a question for another time. I am stunned that you are stood in front of me. You were first to speak “you were right Mase. I couldn’t walk down the aisle knowing the love of my life is here. I couldn’t do that to me or James. Sorry I am late I had to speak to James and then my dad. Both understood actually it was a lot easier then I thought, my dad just upset about the money paid for the wedding.”
I quickly respond “I will pay your dad back every penny he spent on the wedding. It will be a clear slate I promise”. It’s the least I can do I suppose, I am the reason the wedding was ruined.
“Thank you but I am not here for your money mase. I want you. I fucking love you” you jump closing the gap between us and our lips connect. For the first time this kiss feels right, like everything is happening how its supposed to. As we pull away I gather my thoughts, you still unreal even in my tracksuit. That when the sun reflects on the necklace you were wearing, it was a small sliver heart with your birthstone in it, looking at it I remember what it is.
“You were going to get married in the necklace I got you”. I run the necklace through my fingers as I caress your neck. “What did James think about the necklace it literally has the number 7 on the back of it?”.
You giggle at me “please can we not speak about my ex-fiancĂ© who I literally just left at the alter. But I told him the number 7 was my lucky number. Well I guess it still is”. You wink at me and pull me in for another kiss. Our tongues fighting for control, I finally give in and allow you the control. We quickly pulling away remembering where we are.
“Shall we get out of here.” You wink at me.
I grab your hand in mine as we begin our walk along the docks “yeah lets get out of her before you change your mind”. I joke. You look up at me and playfully punch my arm. You link your arm into mine. We stop walking and you look up into my eyes “here’s to forever”.
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razorblade180 · 1 day ago
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Take it back
Jaune:*polishing sword*
Blake:Hey there, old timer.
Jaune:Heh, hello there. Is it time for us to vote on dinner?
Blake:Almost. I’m stopping by now since I’d probably have a hard time talking to you alone later.
Jaune:What’s up? Need help surprising Yang with something?
Blake:Nope. Remember back at Beacon when our two teams had to make schedules together because Weiss demanded joint training and team building?
Jaune:I remember getting yelled out for spilling the whiteout.
Blake:Yeah that was a rough day for you. Anyways, I remember having to be in charge of the schedule since some people would obsess over it while others forgot to bring or update it. I didn’t mind. Memorizing dates is easy for me. *pulls out box* Happy birthday.
Jaune:
Huh, imagine that. Thank you.
Blake:Don’t tell you forgot?
Jaune:No, I just
it hasn’t mattered for a long time. I didn’t bring it up today because honestly, it bothers me a little. Keeping track in the Ever After was hard; after a while it felt lonely. Is it weird I don’t like my birthday much?
Blake:No. I don’t care for mine either. I spent of couple of them protesting or hiding before.
Jaune:That seriously sucks.
Blake:It’s life. I let the others celebrate it cause it makes them happy. That’s enough for me, but I’ll keep yours quiet. Figure you had a reason.
Jaune:Thanks. This means a lot actually.
Blake:You haven’t even opened it yet. Anyways, I gotta go. Ruby has paid me off to help support her campaign for the seafood restaurant for their dessert. *walks away*
Jaune:Didn’t know you take bribes.
Blake:It’s a seafood restaurant. *closes door*
The boy let out a chuckle. He put his blade down and unwrapped the blue birthday paper to reveal the densest planner he’s ever seen. The cover revealed it could plan the next three years out. Who would’ve thought Blake could be so cheeky? Jaune opened it to find his birthday but instead found another surprise. The dates were crossed out.
He flipped the page. Again, all crossed out. Page after page showed each individual day crossed out well into the future. Jaune couldn’t make sense of it at first. He took another look at the gift box and found an additional items. Multiple bottles of whiteout alongside a written note.
“You’ve done your fair share of planning ahead. Now reclaim your time day by day. The Rusted Knight has had its time; it’s your turn now. May it be spontaneous and a splendid do over, dear friend.”
Jaune was absolutely speechless. All he could do was grab the whiteout and clear away today’s date, leaving it full of endless possibilities. He closed it slowly as he thought of all the ways he could really reclaim lost time. Sharpening his blade was not it. He got up and left to join his friends in living area where they were debating.
Nora:Ah! Perfect timing. Jaune, please tell these psychopaths why we should have breakfast for dinner tonig-
Jaune:I want steak.
Ruby and Nora:What!?
Yang and Weiss:*hi five*
Nora:But why steal of all things!?
Ruby:It’s boring!
Jaune:Maybe, but we’d get free desserts today if it’s a special occasion.
Blake:*smiles*
Ren:Special occasion?
Jaune:Yeah. *smiles* Today’s my birthday.
NRYRW:WHAT!?
Oscar:Oh, Happy Birthday.
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defututus · 2 days ago
Text
Baggage Claim Reunion
modern!rockstar!eddie Munson x reader
masterlist
summary: Corroded Coffin is finally home after their first supporting tour in the UK and you get to pick them up.
word count: 5.3k
content warning: established relationship, fluff, more fluff, some language, references to sex and a dom/sub relationship that I'll explore at some point, overall you and Eddie are just happy to be reunited.
author's note: this came to me as I was waiting for @corroded-hellfire to pick me up from the airport when I visited her. I stewed on the idea for a little bit before deciding to write it and I'm really happy with how it turned out!
Also, I'm starting a general taglist if anyone is interested 👉👈
Indianapolis International Airport was buzzing with people in the evening. Most of the individuals walking by look like they’d rather be anywhere else right now as they slump over in the chairs waiting for their luggage or lean against the handles of their carry-on bag. It was amazing to see how some people dressed there. You saw people dressed from head to toe in new Disney merch, in their pajamas, suits, the whole nine yards. Indiana was finally blessed with a few warm days around this time of year so you drove to the airport in a sweatshirt and some pajama pants. The occasion was exciting but did not warrant dressing up since you’d be going to bed right after. You even tried to nap earlier in the day but the anticipation for today’s events kept you wide awake. Hell, you’re probably the only one at the arrivals gate full of energy as you anxiously bounce on your slippered feet waiting for the passengers of an 11-hour flight from Helsinki to return home. 
Corroded Coffin had finally made it and was invited to open up for another band on the European leg of their tour. Everyone was so ecstatic when they got the call from the band's agent and began preparing. Eddie quickly got the necessary time off from work approved (one of the perks of Wayne’s new promotion to shop manager), passports were renewed, visas expedited, and before you all could even process what was happening you waved goodbye as Corroded Coffin flew off to tour for the next month. It was hard for you to adjust to your apartment being so quiet. Eddie was always coming over to stay the night to the point that you’d joke he should just move in. Maybe you’d suggest that after dropping everyone off when they arrived home. The band would have weekly hang outs every Saturday night at your place and would sometimes culminate in a sleepover with you all sprawled out across the living room. Your head more often than not would end up on Eddie’s shoulder and his arm draped across your shoulder. It was weird to go so long without him humming a tune or tapping his fingers against something. It almost didn’t feel like home without him. 
Eddie would call you after every show and you’d spend as much time as possible catching up on each other's day before he had to go help with loading up the van and promise to call again the next day. There’s the usual back and forth about who should hang up first until one person gives in, or in some cases one of the band members takes the phone and hangs up for you guys. They don’t do it to be mean, but they all know that if they don’t do it then Eddie will make them late for load out almost every night. 
You miss Eddie’s warmth, his contagious laughter, the way he always had a corny joke or compliment when you were in a bad mood. Hell, you even missed when he was trying to be annoying. You missed every part of him and as proud as you were to see Corroded Coffin get the attention they deserved, you also wanted your best friend and boyfriend back. The distance made you realize how hard it was to function without him. Sure, he had done other tours before, but the time difference left you two with little time to chat and it made you feel lonely. Your other half was missing.
You get to the baggage claim earlier than expected, having looked up the map of the airport the night before to avoid getting lost. The universe must have sensed your desperation because there was barely any traffic during rush hour. Once you strode through the glass doors, you find the carousel everyone’s luggage would be dropped off and park yourself on a bench facing the gate. According to the boards plastered around the airport, Corroded Coffin’s grueling nonstop flight had landed and their luggage was being delivered to the baggage area, meaning your boys would be arriving soon. There’s a small food court near the baggage claim and still had plenty of time left before the guys come out, so you take the opportunity to get some food for yourself. It’s not much, settling for a quesadilla and bag of tortilla chips with queso. You’ll eat that and let the boys fight over the bag when you drive them all home.
Your phone nearly died earlier and you needed it to get home from the airport so you resort to the age-old activity of people watching to make time pass by easily. You watch exhausted families carrying their sleeping children, pilots and flight attendants heading to and from work, and count at least four adorable dogs that make you want to abandon your post waiting for the band so you can say hello to them. There was even a man who sat near you with what was possibly the funniest, most wrinkly English Bulldog you had ever seen. His name was Hank and you were so excited to tell Eddie about him when you two were finally reunited
You were so excited to see everyone – mainly Eddie – that your heart began to pound every time you saw a group of people approach the baggage claim, but found yourself immensely disappointed every time when you learned it was not Corroded Coffin. There was a surprising amount of tall white men with long brown hair. Were you being tortured? It sure felt like it.
Twenty torturous minutes later and you finally see a familiar group of people approaching the baggage area. Leading the pack is Jeff, who is chugging the last of his water and shoving it in his backpack. Grant and Gareth are passionately arguing about something with Gareth enthusiastically jumping as if the added height would help prove his point. Behind those two is a drained looking Eddie with a can of Monster in his hand and his guitar slung over his back. Eddie insisted he take the guitar as a carry-on because he didn’t trust anyone to handle it with care. The rest of the band’s equipment was being shipped back to the States and would arrive in a few weeks.
 He had changed his hair a bit before leaving for tour by getting an undercut and you never realized how much a change in hairstyle could affect his confidence levels. His self-esteem got a big boost once Corroded Coffin began to take off, but this new haircut really helped him.. The longer portion of his hair was tied back into a loose bun to show off the shaved back. You joked that he did it solely to show more of his neck to you since you had a habit of biting it. He had headphones on and wasn’t really paying attention to the argument going on in front of him, looking as exhausted as everyone else in the building, but with little more curiosity about this part of the building and the amenities that surrounded them. He wore a faded Corroded Coffin hoodie (he insisted on repping the band whenever possible) with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his tattoo sleeves and a pair of gray sweatpants, your personal favorite. Eddie was definitely dressing for comfort in this case, although you’d make the case that he looks good no matter what. He looked tired, the long flight most likely taking whatever energy he had left before the show, but somehow he looked as perfect as ever.
 Grant is the one to spot you first and waves in your direction. You throw your half-eaten meal down into the large to-go bag it came in and drop it on the floor to dart in their direction. Eddie doesn’t see you barreling over to them, instead taken by the large sculpture near the elevators. It’s not until he hears you yell, “Welcome back!” that he realizes his favorite person is finally here to take them all home that he tugs his headphones off his ears. The metalhead pushes through to the front of the group and meets you halfway to pick you up and twirl you around. He had never looked happier, all semblance of exhaustion wiped off his face the second he had you in his arms.
You’re both smiling at each other and start giggling when he spins you around. Your reunion is like something out of a movie. The world slows down around you as your attention lies solely on Eddie, his eyes, his smile, his everything. The rest of his band watches from afar to allow you both to have this moment. Eddie had a smile on their face that they didn’t see often - it was usually after a great show or whenever you two were apart and he finally saw you again. They collectively decided to keep their mouth shut about how much he’d complain about missing you. Always moaning about how he wished you were there with them, how he wished you saw what he did on stage (you have social media, you saw every second of every show), and how he missed talking to you. Eddie called you every day yet he acted like he hadn’t spoken to you in years. It was easy to just let him have his moment with you while they all waited to collect their luggage at the appropriate carousel as it began dropping out of the chute. 
Eddie’s spinning slows down until he’s just standing there with you in his arms.. He loosens his grip enough to place you down on the floor but immediately pulls you in for a tight hug. If there was one thing about Eddie that you liked to share with people, it was the fact that he gave the most amazing hugs. He would hold you so tightly you felt that he might actually break something if he were any stronger. Years of working odd jobs and later at the mechanic led to him building enough muscle so he finally filled out his shirts and could lift anything with ease. Hauling gear was easy for him, and he particularly took joy in throwing you around like a ragdoll, whether during sex or just to wrestle around and get you to laugh. Right now, it felt like he was trying to squeeze the air out of your lungs. All the love he had for you was fueling the hug’s strength. You reciprocated the embrace as much as you could, still feeling a bit giggly because your boy was finally home. Your face is buried in his neck to take in his scent. It was intoxicating. You had started using some of his shirts as pillow cases to tide you over while he was gone. Your bed usually smelled like him since he slept there most nights, but without him visiting the sheets began to lose their comforting smell. Thankfully, he already had a drawer for his stuff so you didn’t even have to ask him to give you anything. You even took one of his shirts the last time you visited his place so you could have something new.
Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead before resting his head on top of yours, almost whispering against your hair, “Oh honey, my sweet girl
,” he presses his nose to your hair to breathe you in and continues with a smile, “I missed you so much.”
His hands move from your waist to cup your cheeks after pulling away from you. There’s a moment where you two don’t say anything, just taking each other in for the first time in a month. Then, he pulls you closer to press a soft kiss to your lips. It’s not the passionate kiss you were craving all month, but you were happy to finally feel his soft lips against yours. You’re leaning into the kiss as the world disappears around you, at least until you hear someone clear their throat and you remember Eddie did not arrive here alone.
“Um, sorry, do we get a hello too?” You pull away from your boyfriend and look over to Jeff who was speaking and laugh at his request. Eddie’s gaze follows yours and he cocks a brow at his bandmate, looking absolutely pissed that his bassist dared to interrupt your moment with him, but also that Jeff wanted to take you away from him. Yes, you were good friends with the rest of the band, and yes he was sure you also missed them, but you were Eddie’s girlfriend. He wanted to hold onto you for as long as humanly possible. If he could, he’d sit in the driver’s seat and use his arms as your seatbelt when you drove home. Despite his protests, you fully let go of Eddie (to which he lets out a sad whine and follows you to the others) and give each member a greeting and a hug, asking how the flight was and making general small talk. Without any warning besides the quiet thud of his footsteps on the tile floor, Eddie moves to stand behind you and wrap his arms loosely around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. One of your hands reaches up to scratch the back ofhis scalp and he lets out a content hum, happy to just stand here all night as long as you never stop touching him.
“So
” you begin, turning your attention to the group as a whole, “how was the trip? Did you guys get to sleep for a little bit?” You feel Eddie shift a little bit behind you, unaware of the look he’s giving his friends who just chuckle. 
Grant looks Eddie directly in the eyes and replies, “Oh, definitely. Eddie was especially quiet so it was pretty easy.” You cock an eyebrow at Grant, a little suspicious of the claim since the Eddie you know, the Eddie who sleeps in your bed most days, is a known sleep talker and never shuts the hell up when he’s awake. There was never a quiet moment with him. This was especially the case now, given how Eddie hasn’t spoken since he held you. Usually he’d be going on and on about every thought that went through his head during the plane flight or things that happened between your last phone call and now. 
“I’m sorry, but I wasn’t aware that Eddie had a mute button. Where is it? Does he have a new secret freckle that I don’t know about? ” You point a finger in your boyfriend’s face while questioning the others. Eddie, taking the opportunity to get another laugh out of you, leans in and tries to playfully nip at your finger but you just move your hand away when he does so. He’s still silent and you’re becoming more suspicious of him by the second.
Jeff walks over, having gone to the nearest trash can to dispose of his empty bottle. He adjusts the backpack on his shoulder before replying, “Well, someone lost their voice last night at the end of the show.” The other two boys laugh and Gareth pulls his phone out to seemingly provide evidence for Eddie’s actions as Jeff continues on, “He was invited on stage for the last song of the night with the headliner It was fucking sick. The gutturals? Disgusting. ” 
Gareth hands his phone over to you with a video from Tiktok pulled up. You kept TikTok open throughout the night to watch everything unfold live, but somehow missed this part of the night. Maybe this was when you were trying to sleep or went on a cleaning spree. 
Like Jeff said, it was the last song of the night and they called Eddie on stage. The metalhead is sweaty from his previous performance but looks like he could go on all night if he had the chance. He has a smile on his face that fills your heart with pride, his joy only growing when the audience begins to cheer even more than they were before once he came on stage.  Eddie is still in his stage outfit and makeup, some smoky red eyeshadow, wearing a half buttoned up button-down shirt, distressed jeans, and his favorite combat boots. The unbuttoned shirt revealed sections of his tattoos and his two necklaces - one with your first initial on it and the other was his new lucky guitar pick. His original has been hanging around your neck for around two years now. You were sure the comments were flooded with people fawning over his looks, they always are. 
The two walk up to center stage as the band plays the first notes. You can almost feel the energy of the room just by watching the video. Everyone in the audience begins cheering. Everyone knows the lyrics and they all scream along with the two men on stage. The first notes of the song begin to play and the two vocalists make it to center stage before they start singing. Eddie has one foot up on the stage risers as he belts out the lyrics.
All in with a losing hand
The sun sets on a wanted man
No spine, born without a backbone
Two-faced, too late for a tombstone
 His screams are most akin to a deep growl from the back of his throat. He tried his best over the years to improve his guttural screams without damaging his throat, but maybe last night he got so excited that he forgot to take all the precautionary steps he took to prevent any damage. 
Eddie nods at this and speaks up as much as he’s able to and says, “I got carried away and fucked up. I could feel the damage happening maybe halfway through the song but there was no way I was gonna stop.”
 Jeff nods, muttering under his breath, “And you’re the one always lecturing us about proper technique
” Eddie huffs and raises a ringed middle finger to his bassist who did the only reasonable thing and gave Eddie one back.
You take a little pity on Eddie because he’s clearly annoyed at himself for doing this and how he hurt himself. You turn to him to peck his lips while soothingly rubbing his shoulders. Your touch is already making him feel better. All he wants to do is go home and snuggle up to you in order to make up for lost time. From behind you, there’s some muffled comments being made by the boys, including a sarcastic ‘I can never get over how whipped he is for her
’ coming from Gareth. Eddie tears his eyes from you to Gareth and hoarsely remarks, “At least I have a girlfriend.” It’s barely audible to them, given the condition of his voice and the overall noise levels of the airport, but they’re able to decipher what he said by lip reading. The reactions are mixed. Grant fakes offense, Jeff scoffs, and Gareth flips him off. Then, the younger man gets an idea. 
“You know
”, Gareth says, readjusting the bag hanging off one shoulder with a sly smile on his face, something you notice right away when you turn to look at him, “I’ve actually been acting as his interpreter. I’m pretty good.”
Your boyfriend scoffs and croaks out to Gareth, “No the fuck you’re not.”
Instantly, Gareth replies, “What’s that? You’re indefinitely appointing me as the new frontman? Aww, thanks man! I really appreciate that you trust me with the band!” Eddie shakes his head and is about to walk past you and try to knock some sense into his drummer, mainly because he’s tired and just wants to go home, but you’re still holding onto his shoulder so he stays put. He’s pursing his lips and is clearly ticked off by Gareth, which seems to have been his goal. Most of the time, Eddie could put up with Gareth’s shenanigans, but you swore that every time they went on tour Eddie would come back needing a break from him. He needed a break from everyone, really. That’s what was so great about this job. You’re stuck in a tiny van with them with zero time by yourself and once you get home you can just avoid them until you can bear to look at their faces again. They didn’t schedule a Hellfire session next week for this exact reason. Eddie didn’t want to hear any of their voices or look at them for a while. Hell, he wanted to forget the guys even existed. His plan was to spend time with you, spend time in you, and spend time catching up on his sleep
 with you
He’s sick of standing here, he’s sick of the clothes he’s wearing, he’s sick of being awake. Eddie grabs his suitcase from the small pile of luggage that made up their belongings and said to you, “I wanna go home.” He pulls the handle up and takes your hand to begin walking towards the exit. You couldn’t understand what he was saying seconds ago and found the perfect opportunity to poke fun at him.
“Oh yeah, I’d love to watch Titanic when we get home! We can do a fun romance movie marathon!.”
Eddie stops in his tracks and spins to look at you. Did you not hear him correctly? Is his voice that messed up? It’s only when you’ve got the same shit-eating grin on your face that Gareth is wearing that Eddie realizes you’re just messing with him. He gives you the same glare he previously gave the rest of the band and lets go of you before turning to leave the building. You let Eddie take a few steps by himself before shouting out, “You’re going in the wrong direction!”
Eddie groans and turns around again. You and the boys are laughing and all decide it’s finally time to get going. Your boyfriend strode in the other direction to the other exit, one hand on his luggage and the other grabbing your hand again as he passed. You’re laughing even more now and follow him to the elevator leading to the parking garage. Everyone else follows behind and you all make your way upstairs and to your car.
All the bags are packed into the back and the boys into the seats. Eddie immediately claimed the front passenger seat to avoid being sandwiched between the other three, but it gave him the opportunity to hold onto you more. Once everyone was buckled in and ready you began the hour long drive from Indianapolis to Hawkins. There was some chatter at the beginning, but as time went on the chatter morphed into a loud conversation about god knows what. You kept your focus on the road in order to get everyone home as fast as possible. Your patience was beginning to wear thin so you couldn’t imagine how Eddie was feeling. Their loud comments were almost enough to drown out the car radio and the other vehicles whizzing past you on the highway. 
The entire time, Eddie kept one hand on your thigh. Neither of you had the energy for sex right now, but you couldn’t deny that his touch wasn’t getting you a little hot and bothered. You were used to satiating each other's urges whenever you had the chance so you had a month's worth of desires and urges to let out with him. When the time came for him to leave for tour, he made you promise not to touch yourself because ‘you can’t play with something that belongs to him’. You could have easily gone against his wishes, it was all for fun, but it just made his homecoming all the more exciting. His hands were warm and the heat went right through your jeans. He would squeeze your leg sometimes when you stopped and sometimes rub the inside of your thigh with his thumb. 
You drop everyone off at their respective homes and heave a sigh of relief once it’s just you and Eddie in the car. You love those guys, you really do, but sometimes when they’re all together in the same room (or in this case, car) they all start acting like lunatics. Your only saving grace was the fact that they all wore seatbelts and Eddie, the usual instigator of their chaos, was quiet and drained of all his energy. 
As you begin the drive to your apartment, you lower the radio volume until it’s merely background noise.  Eddie takes his hand away from your thigh and crosses his arms as he makes himself more comfortable. He even pulls his hoodie up to keep warm
You lived two towns over so the drive would be twenty minutes until you both could finally go to sleep. Out of the corner of your eye you see Eddie moving to recline the passenger seat a little bit and shut his eyes. 
“Get some rest, baby. We’ll be home soon.”
There was never a discussion about where he’d be staying the night, you just assumed he would be sleeping here. It was a peaceful, quiet drive. A few minutes after he got comfortable you heard his even, heavy breathing and smiled at how quickly he fell asleep. He tired himself out after that last show. Eventually, you roll into your complex’s parking lot and slow to a stop in your designated area. Once the car is off, you take one of Eddie’s hands and give it a squeeze to wake him up. His eyes flutter open and you give him a warm smile. He blearily rubs his eyes and slowly ambles out of the car. You grab his luggage and he picks up his guitar case to sling over his shoulder.  Once he’s out and all his belongings are out of the car, you go over to him and hold your hand out which he happily takes. It’s a short walk from your car but takes a little longer than normal thanks to everything you two are lugging and how sluggish your boyfriend is moving. Thankfully, the temperature wasn’t dipping too low so neither of you were in a hurry. Eventually you get to the front door of your apartment. Neither of you speak on the walk over, but it’s a comfortable silence so neither of you try to fix that. 
The door finally opens after you fight the lock for what feels like an eternity. Eddie sighs when he steps inside. He sets his guitar case down on the sofa and you put his luggage down next to the front door. You kick off your slippers as he leans against the couch to bend over and pull his sneakers off. Once those are off, he begins stripping down in the living room without saying a word. Eddie pulls his hoodie over his head and is followed by the Metallica shirt he wore underneath. Then, he pulls off his sweatpants to reveal
 nothing else.
“Ed, honey, did you really take an 11-hour flight without underwear?”
Eddie turns to you as he takes his hair down out of the ponytail he was wearing. He runs his fingers through his hair and scratches at his scalp to relieve the tension from having his hair up for that long. Your beautiful boyfriend stands in the middle of your living room, completely drained and fully nude in front of the open living room window. Eddie looks at you and tiredly answers, “I didn’t feel like wearing them” like it’s completely normal. He’s beyond the point of holding a regular conversation. The dim lighting doesn’t help to hide the bags under his eyes. This would be a conversation to be held in the morning.
You sigh and shake your head at him. He’s bending over to pick his clothes up and you get a full view of his ass, and you won’t complain. It’s a great view. So great that you go over and give it a little tap. You don’t have the energy to give it a full-on smack, something else to tackle tomorrow. Eddie turns and has a small smile on his face. He takes the shirt in his hand and throws it at your face. You hate to admit it smells amazing - it’s a little more sweaty than the shirts he usually gives you since he was stuck in a cramped plane for eleven hours, but that was what somehow made it smell better. He picks up his laundry (minus the shirt) and carries it into your room. Your eyes are scanning his body as he walks inside. The only light source in the room is your bedside lamp, so there’s even less light in there. He’s half hard despite the exhaustion over the past 24 hours and you make a mental note to yourself to wake him up with a blowjob, he always loves that. All his dirty clothing is tossed onto the designated laundry chair, now a mix of your dirty clothes and his, before he flops down onto the bed on his stomach. He’s sprawled out like a starfish and groans when he hits the bed, burying his face in your pillows. It gives you the opportunity to ogle him more, the skeleton wings on his back and the bite mark that you gave him that he permanently tattooed onto the side of his neck. It’s the closest thing you guys had to matching couple tattoos - he had a bite from you on his neck, and you had his on your inner thigh. He was perfect.
You take the time to remove your clothing and strip down like Eddie did earlier. He turns his head a bit to watch you. His eyes trace your curves as the clothing falls off and is placed on the growing mountain in the corner. Once you’re properly undressed, he turns his head back to your pillows so he could  take in your fragrance again. The mix of your shampoo, soap, and natural scent was better than any drug.
“God, I’m fucking exhausted
”
You tiptoe over to the side of the bed and sit down next to him, moving a lock of curly hair away from his face so you can look at him more. He has a sleepy smile on his face, and it’s obvious that he’s on the verge of falling asleep. You reply, “Mm, I bet. Did you have fun?” 
The metalhead nods his head and takes your hand in his to kiss the back of it. Eddie missed a lot of things. He missed the smell of your bedsheets, your warmth when he woke up to your body curled up next to his, the long nights spent in bed just laughing and talking until one of you fell asleep. With his lips pressed against your hand, he mutters, “Yes, but I’m happy to be home
”
He called your apartment home. There was already a mix of his belongings in here besides his clothing so it would make sense that it felt like home to him. The question keeps flying around in your head, but again, it’s a conversation for tomorrow. Your blankets were calling your name, especially with this angel of a man under them. You reach to your bedside table and turn the light off with a soft click, the streetlights outside barely illuminating the room now. Eddie holds the sheets open for you as you tiredly climb inside. The last of your energy leaves your body the moment your head hits the pillow. A pair of strong arms encircle you again and pull you close so your chests are pressed together. You nuzzle him and give him a little kiss before whispering, “Goodnight, Eddie. Get some sleep.”
You two are both out within ten minutes.
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writing-for-marvel · 2 days ago
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I’m back on the hurt train ready to get absolutely railed again
I’m pretty sure I said this in my first read of the chapter but the fact that your amazing mind chose to start and end this chapter, a fic about time loops, in flashbacks is actually genius
There was something almost like bemusement that appeared in the curl of Natasha’s lip, but she didn’t kick you out, which you took as a sign that your little outburst might have been closer to the truth than you’d really expected. You leaned back ever so slightly.
Oh this just feels so Nat, you’re characterisation feels so spot on, even down to the detail of her just needing to stare reader down and reader just keeps rambling like shes justifying herself
Then, without warning, she threw her glass at you.
You obviously can’t see me but I literally flinched out of the way reading this like it was me she had done this to 😂 but I love this scene with Nat so much, it’s such a *her* thing to do, the details are just perfect
“Yeah, I’m not gonna be able to do that,” you said flatly.
Literally took the words out of my mouth
So it appears you’ve gotten yourself stuck in some macabre version of Groundhog Day. Alright. Cool cool cool. You can work with that, probably. Maybe.
I love the inner monologue you have written, it’s honestly so refreshing and actually hilarious
It’s moments like these that make you miss Nat the most.
Stop it we can’t have more death and grief than we do already please
There was something about that woman that made everyone around her open up, whether they wanted to or not.
Literally flash back to what I said before about reader just rambling under her stare without her saying a single word
“Buck?” He huffs, even though he continues to wear his usual exasperated expression. “Did Sam hit you in the head?”
You raise your eyebrows in fake surprise. It’s so easy to fall back into your usual bickering, even with everything that’s going on. “You’re right, I don’t. Your cat probably got into my room again and let out her past week’s aggressions.”
“See, that’s exactly what she wants you to think.”
Eeeee they make me giddy đŸ„°đŸ„°đŸ„°
“Nope. This is my spot, too.”
“Great,” you sigh, angling yourself away from him. “I’ll be sure to make a reservation next time.”
I’m literally just giggling and kicking my feet every time they interact
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“Try the floor,” Bucky says as you’re almost out of the room. He doesn’t turn when you do, but he seems to feel your questioning gaze. “If you can’t sleep. It helps, sometimes.”
Oh my baby 😭 just the thought of him sleeping on the floor for comfort actually hurts my soul
With a sigh, you get settled on the floor, staring up at the ceiling until your eyes get too tired.
Oh she takes his advice đŸ„șđŸ„șđŸ„ș
When you see your own body still lying in bed next to where you’re standing, you almost trip over your own feet.
See I knew this was coming this time and yet it still felt like a shock to the system!!!
It’s one of your favorite comfort novels. You take good care of your books for the most part, but this one is quite battered; you’ve been bringing it with you on missions for years. A bit of home that fits into your pocket and helps calming you down on countless quinjet rides better than pictures ever could.
If someone comes into my room and insults one of my favourite books you can best believe I am finally learning to throw a punch and clock them in the jaw
“It happened because you activated the time stone,” Strange sneers. “Your powers are a lot stronger than you even care to realize, and it was idiotic to keep them a secret.”
She cares so much about Bucky that she’s activated the time stone??? Nika your mind wtf đŸ€ŻđŸ€ŻđŸ€Ż
He must have hit his head on the side of the big table, but the shield had protected him from the sharp edge. He’s pressing a hand to his wound and he’s conscious and fine. He’s fine.
I’m just sat here waiting with bated breath for this whole sequence
You fling your knife as fast as you can, but his single moment of hesitation was long enough for the trigger to be pulled a second time. You turn just in time to see the realization on Bucky’s face, the shock and panic in his eyes as they meet yours.
You’re telling me he dies in every rendition of this god damn day Nika it’s too painfulllllllll
Bucky figuring out that somethings wrong 😭😭 they barely spend any time together and yet he’s already worked her out 😭😭 don’t mind me imma just sob over here
Things were finally starting to look up.
Right just the kick to the gut I needed at the end of this torture (affectionate; I love it)
Nika I love it, I am after two chapters already pulling my hair out every time we have to see Bucky die, but the story itself is exceptional!!
Your writing style is absolutely gorgeous, I always feel so present in the moment with all of their conversations, all the characters feel so *real*, I adore them all
And I honestly can’t say enough about the magic system in place and readers powers, like I’m bewildered by how your gorgeous mind came to that. I can’t wait to dive more into it and learn the backstory behind it all
time after time [2]
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series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader
word count: 8.2k
chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, the angst continues, another reminder to read the fic premise; a couple of guest appearances; flashbacks are my establishing shots and i’m going to make it everyone’s problem
please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.
a/n: 2am updates are kind of my brand at this point. big shout-out to @barnesafterglow who read a good chunk of this yesterday and is still talking to me <3 thank you all for your patience and your love for chapter one!!
series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3
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two: twice upon a time
The first time you met Natasha Romanoff in person, a few weeks after the Snap, she only had to look at you for a couple of seconds to be able to read you like a book.
They’d compiled a file, of course, filled with all the general academic credits and official family information that was still available to the public and definitely more than a few things you’d tried to bury, too. Even then, the folder was reassuringly slim.
She’d have to take you at your word about what you’d come to offer her, anyway.
“And why would we want to have you?” she asked. As if she were interviewing you for a job. Which, technically speaking, she was.
You were on edge and Natasha knew it, even though you tried to hide your ever twitching fingers in your lap under the table, picking at the skin around your nails until you felt it break. You took a deep breath.
“Look, I know that I’m not exactly a soldier, or a—a superhero type, but I 
 I don’t know, I would just like to use my 
 thing to do good, for once. You know, stuff that will help people.”
And do it on your own terms. It stayed unsaid, then. You didn’t admit that part until much later.
Natasha’s face stayed perfectly neutral through your rambling, and you weren’t sure whether that was calming you down or making you more anxious. You reached for your necklace, tugging at the chain.
“But I can’t really do that on my own,” you continued, “and you, well, all of you, you’ve done it for a while and you’re good at it. And I think I could help with that.”
She still didn’t say anything, just kept waiting while you sat awkwardly in that uncomfortable office chair, regretting your decision of ever following through with your crazy impulsive idea of coming here.
But where else would you have gone?
“Also,” you remarked in a sudden burst of boldness, “I think you could use every extra pair of hands you can get at the moment.”
There was something almost like bemusement that appeared in the curl of Natasha’s lip, but she didn’t kick you out, which you took as a sign that your little outburst might have been closer to the truth than you’d really expected. You leaned back ever so slightly.
You couldn’t be sure, then, if she’d pieced together what little information they’d had on you in your file or if she’d just figured you out while you were sitting in this office, but it didn’t make all that much of a difference. She didn’t have to ask why you’d decided to offer up your abilities to the Avengers now, after everything, when they’d been hidden away for most of your life.
“You’re lonely. And you need a purpose, like all of us,” she said, looking you up and down apprehensively.
Then, without warning, she threw her glass at you.
You flinched to the side and it shattered on the wall behind you. The leftover drink slowly sank into the carpet as you turned to stare at her in shock.
Natasha lifted one of her perfectly trimmed eyebrows. “You wanna try that again?”
Really, you should’ve expected the test.
You closed your eyes and raised your hands.
It’s a strange experience, going back in time. No one had really asked you to describe what it was like, and you probably couldn’t have if you tried. It felt a little like retracing your own steps in your head, relocating your conscience to an earlier moment, second by second, in a rapid backwards motion. Like very vivid remembering. Only, it’s not just that.
“You’re lonely,” Natasha said, swirling the dregs of her glass, her green eyes tracing over you. “And you need a purpose, like all of us.”
You were expecting it this time, but the glass still slipped through your fingers and broke into tiny shards on the floor. Not good enough. You didn’t wait for her reaction this time, cursing under your breath and pulling yourself back again. As always, it took considerably more effort.
You tried your best not to stare at the glass while Natasha spoke, but you didn’t really listen anymore. This time, you caught it, even though its contents spilled over your hand.
Natasha smirked. “Not bad. First try?”
“This is when I lie to sound capable, right?” You shook the liquid off your fingers, sure she’d already noticed the sweat on your temples. No use in lying to a spy, anyway, you supposed, so you admitted, “Third.”
“We’ll work on that. But honesty’s a good start.” She held out her hand and you returned the glass. “Have you ever done combat training?”
You could barely stifle a nervous laugh. “Do I look like I’ve ever done combat training?”
“I don’t tend to judge people based on how they appear,” Natasha said, uncrossing her legs. “Come with me.”
You followed her back out of the office into the wide, empty hallway. You hadn’t seen anyone else around on the whole Compound, even though it could probably house hundreds of people on the ground floor alone. The clacking sound of your steps on the tiled floor seemed to echo all around you.
It felt like you were announcing yourself to everyone within a two-mile radius while Natasha moved around on her bare feet without a single sound.
A glass elevator took you down to the subterranean level of the building. Once the doors slid open, Natasha marched straight to a double door with square windows and large metal handlebars.
“Leave your shoes and bag by the door,” she told you. She waited for you to untie your laces and awkwardly wiggle out of your boots before she let you both in.
The Compound gym was even bigger than you’d expected. You weren’t sure if you were more surprised by that revelation or by the presence of a certain super soldier kicking the life out of a punching bag on the other side of the hall.
“Hey Rogers,” Natasha shouted as it got smacked to the ground. “Brought a new recruit!”
“Really?” he called back, unwrapping the bandages around his knuckles.
“Really?” you said. Sure, that was what you came here for, but even so, you were a little shocked it had been that simple.
“Like you said, we’re a little desperate at the moment,” she winked.
“I didn’t say that,” you muttered anxiously as Captain America jogged over to join you, a towel thrown over his shoulder. Despite his workout, he hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“Steve Rogers,” he said, holding out his hand with a smile.
You shook it, slightly bewildered, and introduced yourself. He repeated your name back at you and you had to take a moment to think how strange this whole situation was, even in all the madness that’d been going on. How unreal.
“I’m sure it’ll be good to have ya,” he said, and you almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Thankfully, you caught yourself in time.
Meanwhile, Natasha had dragged one of the thick foam mats away from the heavy equipment and rolled it out. Cracking her neck, she stepped onto it and pushed her hair out of her face.
“Okay. Show me how you’d throw a punch.”
She held out her hands flat in front of her and nodded her head for you to join her on the mat. You’d never felt so stupid in your life as you tried to rack your brains for whatever little you took from those self-defense lessons however long ago. At least Captain Goddamn America seemed to be politely ignoring you in favor of putting some weights away.
“Just move on instinct, you’re not getting graded,” Natasha said calmly.
Your instincts were telling you you were absolutely getting graded and this was your worst idea to date, but you tried your best. She had you aim at different heights a few times before she stopped you.
“Okay, your posture’s terrible. You have to straighten your back and bend your knees more, see?” She demonstrated the right stance, waiting for you to copy her. “There you go. That’s your standard pose.”
“Alright,” you said, testing it out with a little bounce. “And what do I do with that?”
“Depends on what you’re trying to do. With the right training, you can use your own weight to your advantage in a fight. Steve?”
“Oh, great, am I volunteering?” He joined you on the mat and you moved to give the two of them enough space.
“You love it. Now watch me,” she added, looking at you.
Before Steve could even properly raise up his arms, Natasha launched into a handflip and somehow managed to wrap her legs around his body. The sudden movement made him stumble backwards. He lurched his body forwards to get her off his shoulders, but she used the momentum of her fall to kick him off his feet onto the mat. She gracefully landed on all fours like a cat. It looked effortless.
“You’re right,” Steve groaned, “this is very fun for me.”
“Yeah, I’m not gonna be able to do that,” you said flatly.
“I don’t expect you to,” Natasha said, pulling her hair behind her ears again. “But you do have to be able to survive in a fight, even without your powers, if you want to join the team. We can’t babysit you.”
You pressed your lips together, slowly curling your hands into fists and opening them again.
“Alright,” you said, your voice strangely dry. “When do we start?”
*****
Your initial reaction is relief.
Relief, because it’s Friday again, which means nothing has actually happened, which means Bucky is still alive.
Then, the implications of that fact hit you all at once.
You must’ve blacked out for a second or two, because when you open your eyes again, you’re lying on the floor next to your bed, heart still pounding a mile an hour. Your breath comes out in short gasps, and you force it to slow just in time for the knock on the door.
“Rise and shine, McFly! Time to get your ass kicked!”
“Just gimme a minute!” you shout back and stumble to the bathroom.
Your hands and face are speckled with blood and you wash it off furiously, biting your lip as the tiny cuts on your skin left by the glass shards burn under your touch. Turning off the faucet, you keep leaning onto the basin and stare at your hands.
You’re not sure what you expected. Your rings are still the blackest you’ve ever seen them, and the dimly glowing symbols keep slowly circling around your wrist. It doesn’t take you long to put two and two together, because once is a coincidence, a strange, fateful accident, but twice is a pattern. And of course you’ve heard about this kind of thing happening. Only not like this.
Life everlasting.
No. Definitely not like this.
So it appears you’ve gotten yourself stuck in some macabre version of Groundhog Day. Alright. Cool cool cool. You can work with that, probably. Maybe.
“Did you get lost in there?” Sam remarks with a grin when you finally step out of your room, still looking slightly disheveled.
“I—” You stop yourself, blinking at him until he starts looking slightly concerned.
“You alright? You look 
” His eyebrows raise even higher. “Shell-shocked.”
Well, this isn’t exactly an everyday occurence even for me, Samuel, you want to tell him. Instead, you say, “Don’t ever wake me up like that again.” It lacks yesterday’s punch.
“Sweet white teenage angst not your style?”
You hum, but don’t reply otherwise, still lost in thought as you climb the stairs, trying to assess your situation and come up with some sort of plan.
It’s fairly obvious you fucked up your reset the other day. So much for the precious space-time continuum; oh, you hate it when the wizard people are right every now and then.
You glance sideways at Sam while he stretches his back in the ring. He seems fine, completely normal, unaware of what’s going on with you, and of course he would be. Nothing unusual about that part of your powers. Or what’s left of them.
You raise your hands experimentally.
“I’m not high-fiving you until you get one kick in, at least.”
Not even the slightest hitch. It’s like your powers have just up and left you completely. A strange heaviness settles in your stomach. Fucking useless.
You avert your burning eyes from Sam’s gaze.
It’s not like you 
 talk.
None of you do, not really. Sure, you chat. You’re great at chatting. You’ve had years, countless tries of perfecting smalltalk, of knowing the things you can get away with saying to certain people. It’s made you reckless in the past, knowing you could probably replay entire conversations in the blink of an eye, the pressure of expectation gone completely.
Ever since you started coming out of hiding again, though, the fun has drizzled out of that more and more. It’s one thing to impress strangers and another to be several steps ahead of the people you’ve started to consider your friends.
Because even though sometimes it sure would be easier, having people un-live conversations they’ve had with you, particularly hard or emotional ones, is sort of a shitty move if you continue to spend your time around them afterwards. And you’ve grown determined to not intentionally hurt people with your powers. Not anymore.
So yes, you chat. You know Sam’s favorite color and the video games his nephews want for their birthdays. You know what kind of music Bucky listens to, mostly because he forgets to turn on the soundproofing in his room and Jazz trumpets are surprisingly loud. You know their habits, the foods they like, the movies they hate.
But you don’t 
 share. Nothing that goes deeper than the general stuff.
It’s moments like these that make you miss Nat the most.
There was something about that woman that made everyone around her open up, whether they wanted to or not. You’re almost resolved to call her as soon as you get back to your room before you remember.
You’re gonna have to do this on your own. Back to square one.
“What is up with you today?”
“I’m fine,” you grunt, but make no effort to get back up again. “Didn’t sleep well. Ow.” You narrow your eyes at Sam. “Did you just kick me?”
“I wanted to see if you’re still alive.”
“Horrible. I’m quitting. You can go spar with Bucky again.”
“At least he puts up a fight.” Sam crouches down next to you. “Anything you wanna tell me?”
Yes. You shake your head. He probably wouldn’t believe you, anyway.
“Alright,” he says, clapping you on the shoulder. You scrunch your nose. “I’m gonna hit the showers. But we’re doing a rain check for tomorrow, and you sort out your pea under the mattress situation.”
“Okay.”
You listen to Sam’s receding steps and the sound of the door opening and closing again. Then, there’s nothing but silence and the ticking of the clock on the far wall.
Even though you know you should probably just head out as well, you can’t help but linger again. Just in case.
“You look like shit.”
Your head rolls to the side. Fuck you, Barnes. “Hey, Buck.”
Same spot on the bench next to the ring, same hunched over position, same concentrated look on his face while he cleans up the shimmering golden nooks in his arm.
“Buck?” He huffs, even though he continues to wear his usual exasperated expression. “Did Sam hit you in the head?”
You don’t answer, just keep staring at his profile for a little while longer. Your eyes are drawn to the nape of his neck, to the center of his chest. You bite the inside of your cheek so hard it hurts.
“What’re you lookin’ at?” Bucky says lowly. You turn your gaze back to the ceiling.
“Nothing,” you answer, pulling an arm over your eyes. The sweatband rubs against your eyebrow.
Maybe, you think, just maybe, it could still be a fluke. Only one more time to get things right, and then all will just go back to normal. Maybe you’ll be fine today. He’ll be fine.
There’s a buzzing in your ears, and you’re not sure if it comes from the green symbols gyrating around your arm or if you’re just imagining it altogether.
“What happened to your face?” Bucky asks unexpectedly, casually, as if he were talking about the weather.
“What do you mean?”
“You look like you dove head-first into a rose bush.”
“Hah.” You slowly sit up, your muscles aching for a hot shower. Three days of training and fighting in a row are not agreeing with your body. “Must’ve scratched myself in my sleep.”
If he sees through your lie, he doesn’t call you out on it. “Didn’t know you have talons.”
You raise your eyebrows in fake surprise. It’s so easy to fall back into your usual bickering, even with everything that’s going on. “You’re right, I don’t. Your cat probably got into my room again and let out her past week’s aggressions.”
“My cat slept soundly, thank you very much,” Bucky says dryly.
“See, that’s exactly what she wants you to think.”
“Funny.” He stands up, hanging the piece of cloth over the side of the boxing ring to air out. “Take the towel on the right, I already used the other one.”
“Thanks, Buck,” you say with a smirk. He ignores you.
***
The shower is what brings your mood back down again. In the silence of the water hitting your back, there’s enough time for you to think about the upcoming day that you’ve already been through twice.
Up until the mission, it’s gone by fine, unremarkably so, which only makes the build-up to the evening even worse, in your opinion. You face the stream of hot water directly, trying to rid yourself of the image of Bucky lying on the floor, bleeding out in front of you.
You need to be rational about this.
First, you need to figure out what’s going on with your powers. Then, you have to make up your mind about lunch, because while you don’t exactly resent the thought of your third pizza in as many days, your stomach sadly doesn’t agree with that notion. And finally, you’re going to break this damn cycle you’re in. Easy as that.
You turn off the shower with your newfound resolve and grab the clean towel.
Your determination lasts up until you get back to your room and realize you don’t actually know how you are going to fix your powers. They’ve always been somewhat fickle, unpredictable even to you, acting up whenever it’s most inconvenient. Impossible.
No one has ever been able to tell you where they came from, nor how you could properly control them. Everything you know you had to figure out through trial and error, replaying the same scenario over and over again, and, more often than not, lucky coincidences.
Usually, when your rings are black and your powers are weakened, it helps to let your body regain its strength first. In other words, you need to sleep.
This is something you probably should have thought through before getting your morning coffee with an extra shot of espresso, out of habit, but that’s not something you can change right now.
The living room area wouldn’t usually be your first choice for a midday nap, but you’re not ready to face the bloodstains on your bedding quite yet, so you’ll have to make do with one of the suspiciously IKEA-looking throw pillows on the couch. The TV is chattering away in the background, just loud enough to somewhat distract you from your own thoughts.
It’s not enough to fall asleep, though.
You keep tossing and turning, half-listening to three or four episodes of some nineties sitcom, while your anxiety gnaws away at your insides. There’s a constant low pounding in your head that drives you up the wall, and again you swear you can hear the symbols looping around your wrist. You keep scratching at your sweatband, but it’s no use.
You don’t know how much time has passed before the pattering of small paws makes you sigh in disdain.
There’s an obnoxiously loud meowing close to your feet, followed by a sudden weight dropping on your stomach that almost invites your garlic bread back up for a double feature. You peer out at the white shape on top of you, innocently toying with the hem of your shirt.
In general, you like cats just fine, but something about Alpine has always unsettled you. Sure, she’s a cute-looking ball of fluff, but she’s also quick to scratch unsuspecting people bending down to pet her, and she seems to have a particular bone to pick with you.
“Maybe she’s just a good judge of character,” Sam jokes whenever you complain about it.
“She doesn’t like you any better.”
“Yeah, but I’m allergic to her,” Sam shrugs. “The farther she stays away, the more a favor it’s doing me.”
In truth, the only person Alpine likes is Bucky, and she loves to show it every chance she gets.
“You’re in her spot.”
Alpine graciously allows you to push up to your elbows with a groan. Bucky’s tall figure is looming over your head; there’s a bemused expression on his face. He must’ve just walked in through the door, because he’s still wearing his jacket.
“Why does the cat need a spot on the couch, exactly?” You try to shoo her off your lap, but Alpine digs her claws deeper into your shorts and you wince. “You really need to teach her manners.”
“You gotta be gentle with her,” Bucky says, pulling her off you without a hitch. “Move over.”
You swing your legs off the couch with a roll of your eyes. “Can’t you sit somewhere else?”
“Nope. This is my spot, too.”
“Great,” you sigh, angling yourself away from him. “I’ll be sure to make a reservation next time.”
Alpine starts purring as Bucky scratches her under the chin. “You watchin’ that?”
“I was trying to nap,” you mumble, throwing him the remote with a little more force than necessary. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Thirteen twelve hours.”
“Please stop just saying numbers when I ask you that.”
Bucky smirks again and switches channels. “Quarter past one-ish.”
You blink at him tiredly, surprised to find out he’s been back so early. The past two days, you didn’t see him around again until the broadcast was about to start. Then again, you didn’t really pay attention at that point, either.
There’s that tick in his jaw that he always gets when something is bothering him, even as he’s distracted by a playful cat in his lap. You’d better relieve him of the burden of your presence.
“Well,” you say, standing up. Alpine whines indignantly at the sudden movement. “I’ll try to find a cat-free spot in this tower, then.”
“Try the floor,” Bucky says as you’re almost out of the room. He doesn’t turn when you do, but he seems to feel your questioning gaze. “If you can’t sleep. It helps, sometimes.”
You hide your hands in your pants pockets, even though it’s far too late by now. He’s already noticed your black rings.
With a short hum, you briskly walk back to your room, leaning against the door as it closes behind you. This is getting ridiculous, you think, worrying the ring on your pinkie finger with your thumb. As if you didn’t have enough reasons to get a hold of your powers again; you don’t know what you would do if Bucky really got suspicious of you now.
Taking a deep breath, you eye your bed. Compared to yesterday, the blood stains on your sheets are barely more than a few specks, because you weren’t as close to Bucky when it happened. Somehow, that doesn’t make you feel any better.
“Fine,” you mutter in annoyance, grabbing one of your pillows and throwing it on the floor next to your bed. “FRIDAY, can you wake me in time for Sam’s speech?”
“Of course,” FRIDAY tells you. “Do you want me to use the same song as this morning?”
“Please don’t.” A little idea pipes up at the back of your head. “Do you have any record of playing that song before?”
“Last dates played. Friday, July 4th 2025, 07:50 a.m. Playtime: forty-five seconds. Thursday, March 13th 2014, 02:49 a.m. Playtime: one hour, twenty-seven minutes, eighteen seconds. End of record.”
Interesting night for Tony, then, but not exactly telling when it comes to your time loop situation. With a sigh, you get settled on the floor, staring up at the ceiling until your eyes get too tired.
You’ll think of something once you’ve had a bit of sleep. He’ll be fine.
And then, just as you’re finally about to drift off, you feel a sudden jolt go through you. It’s a bizarre sensation, like you’re falling and jumping at the same time, but your body isn’t actually moving with you. Like someone pulling at your very consciousness.
Your eyes fly open and you gasp for air.
You’re still in your room, which should be good news, but everything looks 
 weird. Not as out of focus as it would be if you were simply dreaming, but somehow crooked, the angles unusually pronounced. The colors are all off, the lights way lower than they should be this time of day, and when you reach out for the edge of your bed, your hands—
You take a sharp breath. Your fingers are bare, no trace of your rings anywhere, and even worse, your hands are partly transparent. Cautiously, you get up on your equally as see-through legs and turn around.
When you see your own body still lying in bed next to where you’re standing, you almost trip over your own feet.
You stare at yourself in disbelief. One of your body’s hands is tucked under the pillow, and it’s breathing regularly. Carefully, you take a step closer and reach out your noncorporeal hand. Your shoulder feels warm and solid underneath your fingertips.
Your body wrinkles its nose in its sleep and you jerk back again, losing your balance and falling to the floor. Your body doesn’t react at all, even though you pull part of the blanket with you as you go down.
“Okay. This is a dream,” you tell yourself, even though you feel your heart pounding. “Just some weird-ass dream, and I have to wake up.” Again, you can’t help but look at the sleeping body lying in your bed.
You press your hands over your eyes, willing yourself to slow your breathing. The edge of your nightstand jabs you painfully between the shoulder blades, too real to be nothing more than an act of your imagination.
“You’re not what I expected.”
The man’s voice makes you flinch slightly. Slowly, you peek through your fingers.
You either didn’t notice him while you were taking in your surroundings or he’s just blended in with them seamlessly, although you’re not sure how that last one could even be a possibility. His back is turned to you, his frame covered by a long, deep red cloak with intricate patterns stitched along the seams. He’s perusing your bookshelf, picking up old copies seemingly at random.
For some reason, your shock at the sight of him is outweighed by immediate irritation. Something about the man instantly irks you.
“Thanks, I think,” you tell him, throwing the edge of the blanket over your sleeping body again as you get up, never letting the man out of your sight.
He turns around, one of his eyebrows raised. Your eyes immediately fall on the amulet around his neck and your heart gives a stutter. You ignore it.
“Not a compliment.” He holds up a book. “This is how you spend your time, then?”
It’s one of your favorite comfort novels. You take good care of your books for the most part, but this one is quite battered; you’ve been bringing it with you on missions for years. A bit of home that fits into your pocket and helps calming you down on countless quinjet rides better than pictures ever could.
“Sue me for trying to relax in between saving the world,” you say, crossing your arms.
“Of course,” the man says wryly. “Because god forbid you use those powers of yours to their full extent, we wouldn’t want that.”
“And what’s it to you?” you snap.
The man calmly puts the book down again; not where he picked it up from, you notice in annoyance.
“My name is Doctor Stephen Strange,” he says, watching your face for your reaction. “Ah, so you have heard of me.”
Of course you have. You know who he is, you must’ve seen his picture hundreds of times during the Blip, and even before that, you’d heard about his reputation. As one of the keepers of the time stone back when it still existed, he’s on your list of people you least want to see, ever.
You narrow your eyes at him. “How did you find me? What—” You take a quick look back at your own sleeping form. “What is this place?”
“The astral plane,” he says, swiping your bookshelf for dust and inspecting his fingertips contemptuously. They’re shaking ever so slightly. “Something you would know if you hadn’t spent the past decade avoiding every single chance to use your powers responsibly.”
“Wow,” you huff. “You don’t know anything about me or about my powers.”
“Don’t I, Y/N Y/L/N?” Strange’s cloak flaps slightly as if it were shrugging.
“I spent the last couple of years trying to save lives.”
“You’re riding on luck and pretend it’s control. You have no idea what this could do to the grand scheme of things.”
“Well, I never asked for these powers, okay?” you say defensively. “I just have them. What I don’t have is any interest in being a pawn in some grand scheme of things when I never wanted any of this.”
“People don’t generally get a choice in that matter.” His gaze drops to your wrist. “And now look where your resistance to accept your responsibilities got you.”
The green band of symbols is still leisurely circling around your arm. You bite your tongue. “I don’t know how that happened,” you say, your voice breaking slightly on the last word.
“It happened because you activated the time stone,” Strange sneers. “Your powers are a lot stronger than you even care to realize, and it was idiotic to keep them a secret.”
“Why, so you could use them for your own gain?”
“So I could prevent this exact kind of thing from happening.”
You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “So end it, then. Or did you drag me here just to berate me?”
Strange chuckles humorlessly. “This is not something others can just fix for you, Miss Y/L/N. You cast a very powerful spell in creating this loop, and you are the only one who can lift it again.”
“Great. I’m screwed, then, is that what you’re saying?” You might not be inside of your body at the moment, but you can still feel your cheeks heating up. “I want you to leave me the fuck alone.”
“You need to calm down,” Stange says sharply.
“Don’t tell me to calm down, get out of my—head, or whatever this is. Get out!”
“Alright then. Continue to play stubborn. See how far it gets you.” He holds out his right hand and there’s a crack in the air behind him; almost like a doorway, or a mirror. “I’ll be here when you’re done acting like a child.”
You come to on your bedroom floor, feeling almost more tired than you did when you laid down earlier. It takes your bleary eyes a moment to adjust to your surroundings again. When you sit up, a thin throw blanket that you don’t remember pulling over your shoulders falls into your lap.
This really is just a whole bunch of disasters stacked on top of each other.
You don’t even have to look at your rings to know there’s still not the slightest green spec in sight. Your fingers find your necklace and you tug slightly to reassure yourself of its presence. How the hell did Strange even find you?
There’s no time to think about it for too long, because once again, there’s a knock at your bedroom door.
“We got a lead on that lab,” Sam shouts on the other side. “Jet’s leaving in half an hour, get ready.”
You blink at the clock on your wall in confusion. Even though you feel like you only spent a couple of minutes in this other dimension you were dragged into, several hours have passed in this one.
Time is seriously out of your hands, and it’s only getting worse.
***
“Don’t you think that maybe they have an alarm set or something?” you say, contemplating the explosives laid out in front of you.
Sam raises his eyebrows, adjusting the intercom chip in his ear. “Is that a hunch or are you telling me?”
“Both.” You flex your fingers. “It’s just that announcing ourselves probably isn’t in our best interest right now.”
“And you couldn’t have said that earlier? As in, before we landed?” Sam sighs.
Bucky snorts as you shrug your shoulders helplessly. Your body desperately needed the half hour of uneasy sleep the flight has afforded it, even though your powers seem to be unimpressed by it.
“Look, it’s gonna be fine,” Sam continues, squeezing your arm. “We’ve handled worse. Besides, if they do have an alarm set, they’re gonna come to us whether we knock down that wall or not.”
“I guess,” you mumble, grabbing the explosives. “Let’s play knock-knock with terrorists then, that oughtta be fun.”
“Reminds me of ‘44,” Bucky says, more to himself than to either of you.
When you follow Sam down the hallway once again, you can’t help but search for the cameras you know are hidden here somewhere, but it’s impossible to tell in the dingy light. You should bring a stronger flashlight next ti—no.
You blink, stopping that thought before it’s fully formed.
There won’t be a next time. This thing ends tonight, once and for all.
Third time’s the charm, right?
About as charming as a kick to the face, you think as you find yourself delivering just that.
Sam takes off. “We better get moving. If you take care of the drive and these idiots, I’ll clear the tunnels for a way out of here!”
Bucky catches Sam’s shield as you disarm the white jacket with the knife and duck as the shots ring out. You’re sweating in your kevlar vest.
“Two o’clock, Bucky,” you tell him, throwing another punch. You’re so sick of this white-coated asshole in particular; it’s like they think you’re in the rumble from West Side Story. “And whatever you do, don’t throw that shield, alright?”
“You’re bossy today,” Bucky huffs, taking out the one with the blaster.
“I think you mean thorough,” you reply as Riff finally goes out cold.
“You tell yourself that.” He reloads his gun instead, shield firmly locked around his right arm. “How much longer for the transfer?”
You glance at the monitors and try to remember. “About a minute, maybe two.”
“Sam, you copy?” The last white jacket goes down.
“Ready for take-off in five,” Sam confirms cheerfully. “Heads-up, there’s at least another dozen heading your way.”
“Got it.” Bucky bumps your shoulder as he starts back towards the computers, leaving you only a second to process the different turnout of events.
Shouldn’t he insist on leaving?
The only thing that differentiates this mission from the first one is that you haven’t had to jump back to know what to look out for, and therefore don’t suffer the immediate side effects a redo usually has on you. You suppose that’s what they initially expected your powers to be like; flawless, useful, magical.
It’s like a slap in the face, even though Bucky doesn’t realize he’s doing it. The fact that he really does think lesser of you because of your stupid, faulty powers stings more than you care to admit.
You shake yourself back to the present moment. “Take the drive and then get away from there!” you shout, trying to catch up with him. Your lungs are burning. “They’re gonna blow up the—”
The blast of the explosion throws you backwards and you land on one of the unconscious bodies on the ground. Coughing, you roll to your hands and knees.
“Wha—ppening?” Sam’s cut off voice comes through the broken comms.
“Bucky?” You stumble towards the flaming mess that was the lab corner.
He must have hit his head on the side of the big table, but the shield had protected him from the sharp edge. He’s pressing a hand to his wound and he’s conscious and fine. He’s fine.
You can’t stop a relieved laugh as you crouch down next to him. “Wanna get out of here or what?”
The reflection of the flames makes his eyes almost look green as he squints at you, groaning. “Geez, I hate you.”
“Come on, tough guy,” you say and he lets you pull him to his feet, almost toppling over at his unsteadiness. “Let’s get you home.”
You keep turning around as you make your way to the tunnels, keep looking back towards the staircase you came down, worrying about the reinforcements Sam told you about. Maybe that’s your mistake.
Because you haven’t made it this far before, you don’t think to check that the unconscious white jackets are all still unconscious.
You still have Bucky’s shield arm around your shoulder as he jerks, sensing the motion on his left before you do. He catches the first bullet with his metal arm as you twist out of your hold on him, grabbing your knife and whirling back around. He makes a side step, taking a big swing—
Only you told him not to throw the shield.
You fling your knife as fast as you can, but his single moment of hesitation was long enough for the trigger to be pulled a second time. You turn just in time to see the realization on Bucky’s face, the shock and panic in his eyes as they meet yours.
And then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and–
“Okay, alright, turn it off, FRIDAY!”
By the time you wipe your mouth and flush the toilet with shaky knees, hair and face still caked with blood, you’re finally starting to understand how well and truly screwed you are.
***
You lean against the fridge, staring at Sam while he’s typing away at the kitchen island. He likes working standing up for some reason, particularly when he has to write some sort of statement.
“If I have to give the speech standing up, I’ve gotta write it standing up,” he’s explained it to you once. You can’t pretend to get it, but you suppose it’s also a perk to be within an arm’s length of snacks at all times while you’re getting stuff done.
“What do you want?” Sam says evenly. His gaze remains fixed on his laptop, his fingers never stopping to move.
You bite your lip. It’s a bad, very bad, terrible idea. You shouldn’t be bothering him with your fuck-up. You don’t even know how to go about it without having him laugh in your face.
“What if I told you that I’m stuck in a time loop?”
The question comes out weirdly flat, as if you’re joking. Fuck, what’s happening to you? You’ve always been fine with being the person who knows more than anyone else in the room. This situation though 

It’s different. It unrattles you in a way your powers never have, because even though it’s your own doing, it also seems so out of your control.
Sam raises an eyebrow, still not looking up. “I’d ask when you started drinking today and why you did it without me.”
Honestly, you should have expected something along these lines as long as you have no way of proving it to him.
“Well,” you say light-heartedly, as if you’re merely chitchatting. “What would you do if you were reliving the same day over and over again?”
“Enjoy my time off, probably,” Sam says, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.
“I’m serious.”
“And I’m starving. Shouldn’t the food be here by now?”
You check your phone. “About half a minute.”
It gives you an idea for the future.
Lo and behold. You startle the poor delivery guy, opening the front door right before he can knock. “Hi,” you smile, handing him a generous tip. “We don’t know each other, right?”
“Uhm. What?”
“Do you have like, two minutes?”
“Did you have to haggle for them, first?” Sam calls over when you finally make it back to the kitchen, closing his laptop and helping you put down the boxes and containers on the counter.
“Had to convert to Pastafarianism,” you say, getting out the cutlery. “Ready for blasphemy?”
Sam chuckles.
By the time lunch is done and Sam has left for Madison Square Garden, another wave of exhaustion catches up with you. You pull your rings off and leave them on the table before you lie down on the second couch in the living room area, hoping that maybe this time, you’ll get a little bit of rest.
Only once again, it’s no use. Every time you close your eyes, you’re back in the lab, watching Bucky get shot. The background buzz of the TV isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of your cursed memories.
Or the sound of the cat whining next to your ear.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Alpine settles on your chest this time, leaving long white hairs all over your shirt and hitting you in the face with her tail. You grimace, trying not to inhale any of her fur.
“You’re in her spot.”
You don’t bother turning your aching head. “I thought her spot was over there!” you say accusingly, gesturing vaguely to the other side of the living room.
“Who told you that?” Bucky says, a bemused tone in his voice as he scoops Alpine up in his gloved hands, careful not to touch you. “Move over.”
You blink at him. You did.
You feel his expectant glare on you and sigh.
“Really, you too? We have plenty of room, you know.” You pull your knees in.
“I do,” he says, sitting down next to you and reaching underneath the cushions. “But you’re always hoggin’ the remote.”
You put your cold feet on his thigh in retaliation. Bucky tenses.
“How are you so cold, it’s like ninety degrees outside.”
“Emphasis on outside,” you shrug. “I just run cold.”
“That you do.” He switches channels, then pulls his gloves off and puts them on the table next to your rings.
You bite the inside of your cheek and roll to the floor inelegantly. Alpine meows in disdain, like a knife scratching the whole diameter of a dinner plate.
“Please tell your cat to chill, geez,” you mumble, slumping down on the other couch and stretching your legs out again with a contented sigh.
Bucky doesn’t reply.
“My dear girl,” a thickly accented voice on the TV says, “you cannot keep bumping your head against reality and saying it is not there. The evidence was definite. We can’t remove it by wishing or crying.”
“He trusted me,” a female voice answers. “I led him into a trap, I convicted him. Is that real enough for you?”
“There is no one to blame,” the first voice continues. “The case was a little deeper than you figured. This often happens. You must realize now one thing, it is over for both of you.”
“What are you watching?” you ask.
There’s a short pause before Bucky answers. “Hitchcock. Spellbound.”
You can’t help your reaction.
“Why’d you just do that?” Bucky says.
You stare at the ceiling. “Do what?”
“You flinched.”
“Did not.” You can taste blood in your mouth.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
You turn to the side and demonstratively stare at him, even though it makes your insides twist. Bucky’s face doesn’t change at all as he gazes back at you, frown deepening between his eyebrows. It’s like he’s trying to drown you with the endless blue of his eyes.
You drop your gaze and shake your head.
“What’s your point, Bucky? Not everyone likes staring at people like you do.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s weird. And invasive.”
“It’s invasive to look at you?”
“Yes,” you say, “if you do it like that.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know!” You sit back up again in exasperation. “What do you want from me, Bucky?”
You look at his face this time, not his eyes. It still makes your cheeks burn, because his jaw sets that way again and he doesn’t immediately respond.
“Something’s wrong,” he says, finally, and you hide your face between your hands in what you can only hope looks like frustration. Then you realize that that’s only making your missing rings more obvious.
“Nothing’s wrong,” you snap, balling your hands into fists.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t have anything to tell you!”
“You promised,” Bucky says coolly. “Remember?”
Your stomach plummets.
“Yes,” you say, forcing your voice to stay calm. “But I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to worry. I’ve got this.”
You feel his eyes on your back all the way to your room, and you’re not sure if you’re lying to him or to yourself, even as you slam the door behind you and look anywhere but your bed.
Your book is lying in the wrong place.
*****
“Honestly, Nat, you could’ve killed her.”
“Don’t be dramatic. She’s made of stronger stuff than that.”
There were yellow dots dancing across your vision when you opened your eyes, groaning at the bright neon lights hitting you in the face.
You were lying on the mat in the gym of the Compound and your nose had been ripped clean off; at least that was what it felt like. Judging by your red-soaked shirt, your guess wasn’t that far off, though.
“Hey,” Natasha said, kneeling down next to you. “Sorry, that must hurt like a bitch.”
“Your head is bery solid,” you replied, touching the blood still dribbling down your face. “Ow.”
“Thank you,” she said and handed you a wet towel. “Put that in your neck and lean your head back.”
“Di’ I faind?”
“You knocked yourself out, honey,” she said with a sly grin.
“It isn’t funny, Nat,” Steve shouted. You snorted, then winced in pain.
“Don’t worry,” Natasha winked. “You’re gonna be as pretty as before once you clean up. Already reset your nose while you were out.”
“Thangs.”
Surprisingly, this was the first serious injury you’d sustained in the past couple of weeks you’ve been living as a rookie Avenger; though in truth, that was mostly due to the fact that Natasha had only had you build up your stamina and agility up until today. Your first proper day in the ring was nothing short of humiliating.
“You could always go back to the moment before you decided to headbutt me,” Natasha said once the bleeding had finally stopped.
You wiped your nose carefully, taking a few breaths to clear your airways. “Sadly, that’s not how it works,” you said, letting her help you slowly come upright again. “I’m the one moving through time, so I stay exactly the same. I can help you guys avoid the punches, but I’ll still be the one receiving them.”
Cursed to stay the same, just like you’d always said.
Natasha tilted her head. “That seems like something you could work on with proper help.”
You grimaced. “I’ve tried that before. There’s no one who can help me, no one who can 
 fix me, or my powers.”
There was worry in her eyes, then, and you were taken aback by how genuine it seemed. It left a crack in your shell.
“I don’t think that’s true,” she said quietly.
But it was. “I mean it,” you said, your lip twitching. “You can’t tell them that I’m here. For all they know, I got dusted just like everyone else.”
She knew; it had been the one condition you’d set in exchange for your help. That didn’t mean she had to like it.
There was a prolonged pause until Natasha nodded. “All the more reason to get you proper training,” she said, getting back to her feet and helping you up. “Let’s get you some ice cream. Good for the healing.”
You smiled when both she and Steve kept worrying about you the entire way to the kitchen, even though both of them tried hard not to make it obvious. It still filled you with a strange sense of warmth that almost had you forget about the pain.
You were safe here.
Things were finally starting to look up.
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chapter three
thank you for reading!! you can follow my library blog @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 💚
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woso-story · 3 days ago
Text
Sleepover
Alexia Putellas x Mila x Esmee Brugts x Kika Nazareth
Mila sat on the couch, legs swinging as she hugged her plush lion close. Her big green eyes sparkled with excitement as her mothers finished getting ready for their long-awaited date night.
"You'll have so much fun at Alexia's, carino," Mapi assured, crouching to tuck a stray curl behind Mila’s ear.
Mila pouted. "I wanted to go to Tia Caroline," she mumbled, her arms crossing dramatically.
Ingrid chuckled, ruffling her daughter's hair. "Tia Caroline is busy tonight, but you get to have a sleepover with Esmee and Kika too."
At that, Mila’s face lit up. "Really?!"
"Yes," Mapi smirked, exchanging a look with Ingrid. "But you have to behave."
Mila nodded vigorously. Well, as much as a four-year-old could promise such a thing.
---
A short drive later, they arrived at Alexia’s house. Mapi rang the doorbell, and they barely had time to register the noises coming from inside before the door flung open.
"KIKA!" A blur of excitement rushed toward them as Kika greeted them, practically bouncing in place. Behind her, Esmee grinned before both of them swooped down and grabbed Mila.
"Hi, hi, hi!" Mila giggled as her two ‘aunties’ lifted her and ran inside.
"Mila, behave!" Ingrid called after her, but the moment had already passed.
Mapi chuckled, watching Alexia step into the doorway, already looking overwhelmed. "Good luck," she teased.
"Yeah, thanks for that," Alexia deadpanned before shaking her head. "I love having Mila over, though she’s probably better behaved than the other two."
As if on cue, a loud crash echoed from inside.
"Everything is fine!" Esmee called, her voice suspiciously cheerful.
Alexia groaned, rubbing her temples. "You two should go before they destroy my house."
Ingrid stifled a laugh, thanking Alexia once more before she and Mapi left for their dinner, while Alexia braced herself for a very long night.
---
It didn’t take long before things got out of control.
Alexia walked into the kitchen only to find Mila sitting on the counter, happily munching on snacks that were meant for later.
"Mila
" Alexia sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "Those were for movie night."
Mila pouted, her lower lip jutting out.
"Don't give me that look," Alexia said, already losing the battle. "Fine, just
 go play in the living room. But no running!"
Esmee grabbed Mila’s hand. "Come on, let’s go!"
The three girls disappeared, leaving Alexia exhaling deeply. "Why did I agree to this?"
She ordered pizza and went to check on them, only to find
 nothing. No sign of them.
"Girls?" she called out. Silence.
She checked the bathroom. Empty.
Then, a rustling noise.
She turned toward the closet. Slowly opening the door, she found Mila sitting inside, eyes wide.
Alexia sighed. "Mila, what are you—"
"I found her!" Kika suddenly shrieked behind her.
Mila huffed. "You ruined my hiding spot, Ale!"
Before Alexia could respond, Mila tagged Esmee and bolted, the game instantly turning into a high-energy chase around the house. They leaped over the couch, dodged furniture, and at one point, Esmee stumbled into the bookshelf, sending books crashing to the floor.
Alexia massaged her temples. "I’m never babysitting again."
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Finally. Pizza.
She barely got the food to the kitchen before the girls swarmed in, each loudly debating their pizza choices. Once everyone settled with their slices, they finally calmed down, curling up on the couch for a Disney movie.
Alexia sighed in relief. "Finally, peace."
Little did she know, the night was far from over.
---
One movie turned into two, and at some point, Alexia dozed off. Big mistake.
Mila, eyes twinkling with mischief, reached into her bag and pulled out colorful pens. She turned to Esmee and Kika. "Help me!"
Snickering, they joined in, drawing on Alexia’s face as she slept. Swirls, hearts, mustaches—Mila giggled as she proudly admired their masterpiece.
Satisfied, she turned to Esmee and Kika, both dozing off too. Mila smirked. Time for more fun.
She crept upstairs, looking for something exciting. In Alexia’s bedroom, she found a walk-in closet—boring. Then, she spotted the bedside table.
At home, she wasn’t allowed to open drawers in her parents' room. But Alexia never told her not to.
Opening the first one, she frowned. Weird-looking things she didn’t understand. Not interesting.
The second drawer, however
 handcuffs!
Her eyes sparkled. She had seen these in movies—bad people got them! A perfect prank formed in her little head.
Giggling, she tiptoed back downstairs and carefully clasped one cuff around Esmee’s wrist and the other around Kika’s. She giggled again. This was the best idea ever!
After brushing her teeth (because her mama always told her to), she snuggled into the guest bed with her plush lion, falling asleep almost immediately.
---
Alexia woke up groggy, blinking at the ceiling. Something felt
 off. She sat up, rubbing her face—then froze.
Why did her hand feel
 painted?
Then, groans from the couch.
Esmee and Kika stirred, glancing at each other. Confusion turned to shock.
"Why are we—WHAT?!" Kika yanked her wrist, realizing she was handcuffed to Esmee.
"What the hell?!" Esmee tugged back.
Alexia groaned. "No way
"
Just then, Mila trotted down the stairs, all smiles. "Good morning!" she chirped sweetly, completely innocent.
Alexia pointed at her. "You. What did you do?!"
Mila just giggled. "I pranked you!"
Esmee and Kika groaned, still struggling with the handcuffs, while Alexia dragged a hand down her face, realizing she needed to hide certain items better.
---
Later that day, Alexia brought Mila home.
Ingrid opened the door, and before she could even say anything, Mila burst inside. "Mama! I had the best night ever!"
Mapi, hearing this, came over. "Did you now?"
Mila nodded excitedly, running to tell Mapi everything.
Meanwhile, Ingrid took one look at Alexia’s exhausted face and raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"
Alexia sighed, stepping inside. "Your daughter handcuffed Esmee and Kika together."
Mapi burst out laughing. "That's my girl!"
Alexia groaned. "Yeah, well, no more sleepovers with all three of them together." Then she added, “And I’m putting certain things out of reach from now on.”
Ingrid chuckled, patting Alexia’s back. "At least you survived."
"Barely," Alexia muttered.
But as chaotic as it was, she couldn’t be mad. After all, she adored Mila. Even if she was an absolute menace.
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avifaunaa · 2 days ago
Text
these strange noises [ voices ] followed me here
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Authors Note: so like, this was intended as a Shauna fic ONLY. Nat somehow found her way in here on her own, without my consent. Oops.
Masterlist
Pairing: Shauna Shipman x fem!reader x Natalie Scatorccio
Summary: You didn’t like how strained things were with the team lately. Shauna didn’t like how easily you tried to make friends. Natalie? Natalie was just there by accident. But she’ll make sure Shauna’s message comes across clear.
Content Warnings: Dark-ISH, r has a crush on Nat, animal injury, animal death, soft!dark!Natalie, mean!dark!shauna, degradation and praise, grinding, breathplay, double penetration in two holes, which means anal, and vaginal, spit, spit as lube, scratching, fingering, controlling behavior, non/dubcon [ r for all lmao ], NO AFTERCARE | mention of past injuries and illness, as R hurts herself by accident and also works as a sort of medic for the team IM SO SORRY THIS GOT FILTHY LMFAO
Word Count: ~5.7k
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Natalie was huddled with her little Council again. Lottie, Tai, Van . . . Whoever the team decided was the best suited at leading everyone out of this shithole into somewhat of a survivable society as you currently knew it.
You had to admit the ducks were cute — until Shauna came for them for dinner time. You steered clear from her around those times, when the look came to cover her features and she had the dark aura surrounding her. “Dark aura” was coined by Mari, and you made sure to never vocally mention it around Shauna.
You had managed to stay out of everyone’s way after you had fallen and broken your arm trying to be useful after the cabin burnt to splinters.
You had managed to become somewhat of a healer after resetting your own bones, creating a sling for your own arm, and packing the sling with leftover snow until the swelling went down.
Yay to three years of medical school.
It was now fully healed, but it never truly managed to recover right. There was an ache when you bent it a certain way and reaching up over your head was painful beyond measure. Still, the bone healed and you didn’t get a blood infection: win-win.
When Natalie had cropped up with some cuts from hunting expeditions, you’d offered to treat them with a prototype paste you had been testing out on your own minor scratches. She had been suspicious, but she hadn’t wanted to turn you down. So she agreed.
It worked somewhat — you had found some stinging nettle and fireweed in different areas of the surrounding territory that you had to make use of on your arm by ingesting.
You had her eat some of the paste and apply some to the cuts. Either way — it had worked to speed the healing process and ease her pain.
And so began your life as the team’s new medic. It hadn’t been intentional, but you were the only one currently still majoring in medicine and going through the process of trying to get into a residency.
You hadn’t told the team — especially Shauna — that you had planned to quit after this season.
You hadn’t told the team — especially Natalie — that you were moving to Vancouver for it.
Neither of them would’ve taken kindly to the news for different reasons, and you hoped that you died in these woods so you wouldn’t have to.
Mari was in your hut now, claiming she had a sore throat after one of the games they’d played. Shauna had punched her in the jugular, allegedly. It didn’t surprise you, not really. Shauna and Mari had been not so subtly resting their teeth at one another’s throats for weeks, and it was starting to drag on everyone.
“Ow,” Mari deadpanned as you pressed around the skin tenderly where you saw the outline of Shauna’s knuckles beginning to form.
“You’re fine. She probably didn’t do any real damage — just take it easy on any activity that requires you to yell at each other and maybe stay away from these games for a while,” you ordered, pulling your hand away.
She gave a sniff, nose wrinkled and lip curling up at the corner. You did your very best not to roll your eyes as she left without so much as a thank you. But she did squeeze your wrist, and you supposed that was thank you enough for Mari.
You went about your day stripping herbs and taking some berries from the food storages, making your pastes and wraps and using old clothes to make more slings in case another limb broke.
You heard shuffling outside of your hut and turned to find Shauna entering, a shadowy look on her face.
“Oh, hey.” You set down the makeshift bowl and smile warmly at Shauna despite the uneasiness that arose with her appearance. You avoided her at all costs these days — her and the rest of the makeshift Council. All of it terrified you and you didn’t want their eyes on you.
“Hey.” Short and curt, dark eyes glittering as they shifted around the hut at the hanging herbs and shells from the beach of the lake. “You’ve made a little spot for yourself here.”
“Hasn’t everyone?” you agreed carefully, shrugging a little bit as you went back to mashing berries and leaves together. This was a different paste you were experimenting with — one that may help coughs before next winter came to strike. “We have to sort of make do with what we’ve got right?”
“Yeah,” she murmured. You could feel her analyzing you in the way Shauna Shipman analyzed all things: like they were weak, or a target.
Shauna Shipman never sought to find enemies in the air or behind her — why would she? This is her world you’re in, her game you play most of the time especially because food is what she is in charge of.
Shauna Shipman is an apex predator who fears nothing and no one — and you are here only because she allows it, and perhaps she is here to remind you of that simple fact.
“Is everything okay?” you asked cautiously, dipping a finger into the sticky mixture you created and kneading at it anxiously. You refused to turn around and look at her and the way she seemed to track every movement you made.
“Why was Mari in here earlier?”
The inquiry shouldn’t have caught you off guard — it shouldn’t but it did. You would have put it off as something as simple as her wanting to check on a likely injured teammate but something inside of you told you that this was not as simple as that.
“She was receiving some medical attention from the strangulation she received. During the game.” You roped in any accusatory lilt that would’ve snuck in if you hadn’t been careful. “She’s fine.”
“I don’t really care,” Shauna replied casually. You turned around with the bowl and saw her fingering some of the hanging herbs, looking over them with disinterest.
“Then why’d you ask?”
Shauna stilled just a second before slowly moving her gaze back over to you. She hasn’t been all to normal since Jackie died — a fact you kept your mouth firmly shut over even if Gen and Melissa murmured about it from time to time.
There was a way her dark eyes flickered along your face and her lip curled upward like she had a reason to be disgusted with you that made you want to turn tail and run.
But alas — you were trapped in this goddamned hut with her now.
“I asked,” Shauna said lowly, voice dropping a couple of octaves, “because I saw her coming in here crying like a little bitch. I wanted to just remind everyone that this game is optional and she has a choice to play.”
Your tongue curled into the back of your mouth to kill all the things you wanted to snap back at her — all of them.
Oh, and she must have known it. Must have seen it in the way your face screwed and twisted up as you jerked your chin back down to your medicine making.
“If we have a choice, why are you acting like you’re accusing me of breaking the law?” you asked her slowly, in as much of a respectful tone as you could produce.
Shauna tilted her head just so. “Because the team considers it a bonding exercise; and it keeps us fit, quick on our feet, strong. Morale and shit.”
You wiped the paste onto the side of the bowl and set the object down onto a built in shelf of your hut, rubbing the excess onto your pants anxiously. You did not answer her, and she seemed inclined to talk to you more either way.
“Although,” Shauna continued, starting to creep closer to you with ease of a practiced creature of skill, “you wouldn’t really know one way or another. You exempt yourself everytime. I keep hoping to see you, you know?”
You play off your nerves with a scoff, rolling your eyes and trying to appease with a side smirk. “Please. Who the hell would help patch you assholes up after? Misty? She can’t hardly tell poison ivy from nettle. You’d all be dead in weeks.”
You hoped it did the trick — though you hated to do it at all. Misty was sort of becoming a friend to you in the last month, having offered her help when she wasn’t sniffing around Nat and Lottie so reverently. She would stop by so often and lend a hand with some work.
But then again, she was still Misty and she always had to be thrown under the bus in these situations.
Laughter drifted into your ears after a split second and soon the tension in your shoulders followed. “You may be right,” the brunette agreed, looking considerably lighter with an air of content.
Thank God.
“Only on days that end in y, Shipman.”
You tried to keep up a casual conversation with Shauna for a while just to ensure that the tension she entered with had all but vanished when she left you.
However it had the opposite effect. The longer you kept her — and tried to entertain her — the more her mood seemed to dip once more. Her eyes flickering behind her to the exit, arms crossed protectively and fidgeting with her sleeve.
It slowly built up until she found a way to end the conversation altogether, commenting that she had to go speak to Natalie about her ‘indiscretion’ regarding Mari. Whatever the hell that meant.
You were more confused by what had just transpired between the two of you than anything else.
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“Kid.”
“I’m not a kid,” you corrected from your place by the camp’s center community fire. You were patching up one of the wings on Gen’s ducks as she anxiously stood to your right. “Why didn’t you clip them?” you asked Gen, scolding, “this is the fourth duck that’s been nearly carried off by a hawk.”
It was not Gen trying to get your attention at the moment -- for you were already focused on the crux of her problems: her wayward free-sighted ducks.
"Clipping them seems wrong," Gen retorted meekly, chewing on her chapped lips as she walked you work, "and what if something attacks camp and they can't get away?"
"We have a better chance at defending them together from something in camp than we do trying to get them back from a predator after they've taken flight from here," you reminded as you tenderly wrapped a waxy leaf between two sticks as a sort of splint. "Clip the wings, Gen, or we'll have more than just busted wings come winter."
"Kid," the same person behind you interrupted.
You ignored her as you pressed the flapping duck back into Gen's arms. "Keep an eye on her for three days, maybe keep her in your hut instead of with the others. I'm not a vet so I don't really know much about animals. All I know is that she needs to go easy on the wing."
A hand grasped your shoulder from behind and you stiffened. Gen glanced to who was behind you and mumbled a thanks before scampering off in the opposite direction.
You felt your body being turned by Nat as she met you with the least disguised look of irritation you've seen on her face in the last few days.
"Maybe calling me by my name would get my attention better," you greeted her dryly, plucking a loose duck feather off of your shirt and crossing your arms. "I tend to respond to it easier, too."
Nat rolled her eyes so hard that you could have almost placed a bet that she saw the inside of her own skull. "Right, of course, so sorry." She did not, in fact, sound sorry. She sounded fed up.
Which, you supposed, was fair enough.
"What do you need, Nat?" you asked, noting that her hand had drifted from your shoulder to your elbow instead.
"Do you want to go hunting with me?"
You blinked at her, struck silent immediately at her request. It was almost shy how she asked and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from pointing that out.
"You took me once and I almost got both of us killed," you tried to deviate, throwing your gaze to your feet where dirty and ragged shoes scuffed the dirt.
"Yeah," Nat murmured, fingers drifting even lower until her fingers linked with yours, "which is why I want to bring you again. Besides -- you don't leave camp much now that you've managed to grow your herb garden. We could . . . we could look for some of the stuff you're low on and can't really grow?"
"Bringing Travis with you gives you a higher chance at finding something than if I were to come," you continued to deflect, though you allowed her hand to keep you locked in her space, entertaining her requests.
"I don't want to bring Travis, I want to bring you," she pointed out. "Look at me."
You drug your eyes slowly up her body until you were finally looking her in the eye, and you found her watching you with a soft encouragement but strong nature you knew Nat to carry with her.
"Good girl," the blonde praised followed by a squeeze to your hand. "So . . .?"
"Okay . . ." you agreed, cheeks reddening under her stare. "Okay, as long as you don't blame me if we don't catch anything."
She raises your linked palms and specifically curls her pinkie finger around yours. "I promise," she agrees, nodding with a little smirk gracing her features. "Now go get what you need."
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Natalie was getting very frustrated and you had a sinking feeling you were connected to those feelings. She would point out spots to avoid stepping and you'd somehow find a way to unintentionally disobey that order.
She turned to glare at you when you were both crouched low in the underbrush as your knee pressed into fallen leaves and twigs.
"Sorry," you mouthed, stiffening up and not moving an inch as she turned back and settled in again.
She peered through the scope of the rifle and brushed her thumb along the trigger, shoulders relaxing as she eyed the well-fed doe in her sights.
She was beautiful and you hated to see her go, and you would tell Natalie as much later when the doe was shot down successfully.
She had the gun thrown over her shoulder as she inspected the kill, likely looking for anything Shauna would need to cut out parasite or old injury-wise when she went to butcher it.
"She was so pretty," you commented, unable to hide the tinge of sadness that paired with the words. "I'm sorry that she had to go."
At first you thought she ignored you. She had no response and the only noise around the two of you were the songs the birds sang above you, alerting the rest of the forest of your existence.
"She died for a good reason," the blonde finally said, throwing her bag down and opening it to reveal some bloodstained rope. "Just like they all have."
You did not press her on whether she meant your fallen teammates or just the animals. You did not think you wanted to know.
"Get her back legs, will you?" Nat tossed some ropes to you and you caught them.
You crouched at the back end of the deer and started lifting her legs to tie them together and stopped when you felt the leg closest to you give way too easily. You bent it a few times and breathed out a sigh, drawing Nat's attention.
"What?" she asked, frowning in your direction.
"Nothing -- just. She had an injury, a broken leg. I'm surprised she survived long enough for it to heal," you said as you stroked a hand down the base of the thigh. The leg felt weaker than the rest of the body, less muscled. "She may not have been using it either."
"She walked with a limp," Nat mentioned with a deepening frown, finishing the knot on the front legs. "She also had no herd -- maybe she couldn't keep up with them."
"Left behind." You drew the legs together and started to tie the knot, fixing it until it was tighter than you would have usually done it.
You felt Natalie watching you as you lifted her from the rear while she went to grab the front.
"Is this about --"
"No," you said, cutting her off, "it's not."
When you had broken your arm there had been a huge debate on whether or not to cannibalize you, release you into the woods and let you find your own way, or let you stay and care for you.
Before your arm you had no special job that kept you in a particular high standing -- Misty was the team's resident doctor at the time and as far as they knew, the most knowledgeable in the medical field. You had let her make them believe that -- it was too much. Too much death, too much illness, too much injury.
You wanted to be a pediatric surgeon, not watch and try to treat your friends as they died in the wilderness.
When you had been forced to fix your own arm that harsh night, it was also forcing you to reveal your abilities and in the end it forced you into the role you attempted to avoid for months.
But you never got over it; the fact that they considered throwing you out because you may bring greater weakness to their survival and because you may prove another mouth to feed if your arm healed wrong and you couldn't chop wood again, or lift heavy objects, or do chores that required arm work.
" . . . shoulder?"
"W-what?" you asked, blinking at Nat. She stared at you.
"Can you lift it over your shoulder? Just enough for us to get it carried back to camp? I know it hurts sometimes when --"
"It's fine," you said, clenching your jaw as you bent down to grab the animal. "Let's just -- let's just get going."
Nat did not press, but the air was thick with a heaviness you could not decipher for the entire trek back.
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Four nights later you got into trouble.
Dinner was being served normally tonight -- no outfits or prayers like Lottie did from time to time.
What was off, though, was the way Shauna sat a few seats down and glared in your direction as Krystal and Mari kept trying to pull you into conversation.
You were mostly tuning them out. You had a headache from the boiling summer heat that lasted all day and water was only so helpful when it had to be boiled to be safe for consumption.
Everyone was going swimming together after this, while it was cool and the moon was bright. You would go with them this time -- anything to get the stink of sweat out of your skin and the cool water to surround your pounding head.
"You're going with Krystal and I, right?" Mari asked you as you downed the rest of your bowl. "Be our swimming buddy?"
What harm could it do? ]
"Sure," you started.
"Actually," Nat said loudly, leaning across Shauna to get your attention and staring you down with a crinkled nose, "Shauna and I want to steal you for our swimming trip. We wanted to use it as an opportunity to discuss some things with you."
"Okay --"
"Like what?" Mari scoffed, the barbing remark aiming for Shauna as her eyes rested on the quiet but very present brunette.
"Council things, Mari," Nat said shortly, "and if you want to keep acting up, you can stay behind and guard camp while we bring Misty instead."
"No thanks," Misty, for once, said with a squint. She hated swimming with the team. She much preferred privacy when doing anything in regards to undressing in general.
"Then behave," Nat told Mari as though she wouldn't be punishing Misty, as well.
Mari let it go. It was a bigger fight than she appeared to want to take on at the moment and you could not blame her. Nat and Shauna butted heads nine out of ten times but when they formed an alliance, it was formidable.
Everyone finished their meals without incident after that matter was settled but it left you anything except settled. Nat and Shauna had not previously mentioned wanting to talk to you about much of anything beforehand so this was as much a surprise to you as it was to Mari.
You all walked the worn path down to the lake together as a group but Shauna and Nat gestured for you to veer off with them down a slope before reaching the beach.
You hesitated and watched as the rest of the group laughed and disappeared over the lip of the path while Nat flung an arm around your shoulder and continued guiding you down the steep slope off trail.
"Where are we going?" you asked, eyes fixed on the barely-visible pattern of Shauna's flannel as she walked ahead of both of you.
"Shauna found a nice little spot, sort of a private beach. We can see and hear the others but the swim would be too far," Nat told you. You nearly tripped over a thick tree branch in your way and Nat grasped you roughly, fingers digging into the flesh of your arm to keep you from eating shit.
"You are prone to disaster, has anybody ever told you that?" she asked with laughter.
"Oh shut up," you grumbled.
Nat only laughed harder and you tuned her out once Shauna stepped out of the tree line and opened up to a small beachside grove. It seems she had made a sort of hideout here -- a tree stump had been dragged through the sand and she had some of the plane seats across it. There were rocks and shells sat out in piles like they'd been gathered overtime and sat aside on a boulder.
"It's pretty," you mused as you kicked off your shoes before stepping into the rough sand and following after Shauna.
"I know." Dark eyes watched you, gauging your reaction to her secret and you suddenly felt a ball of nervous energy form in your stomach. "Only Nat has seen it."
"Oh." You didn't know what meaning that held -- or what it meant for her to have also agreed to shown you. "Um -- cool. Why -- why show me?"
Nat was removing her shorts near the firepit and circle of makeshift seats, soon followed by her shirt and leaving her just in her underwear. She ran past you both and splashed into the water, laughing. "God, it feels so good."
You smiled at Nat and . . . how free she appeared as she swam deeper and dipped her head back into the water.
"We brought you because we can," Shauna said, obviously. She glanced behind her, following your gaze. She did not smile but there was a softening to her eyes that you thought had long since gone extinct after Jackie's untimely death.
"Want to get in?" she asked, elbow gesturing toward the water without removing her hands from her pockets.
"Oh. Yeah, absolutely." You made your way over to the damp sand, the water washing up your ankles in greeting.
"Absolutely not," Shauna breathed behind you, grabbing you by your shirt. Her lips brushed against your neck lightly. "No swimming in clothes. You could drown, stupid."
Your body flushed as the embarrassment swept over you like a wave from the lake. "R-right, yeah."
You waited for her to back away a bit but you could still feel her breath on your neck. You stepped slightly to the side and started undressing. You went to leave your underwear on but Shauna stopped you again.
"Everything."
"Nat has her underwear on?" you pointed out, glancing out to where the blonde lay on her back, treading water.
"And I care why?" Shauna drawls. "Take them off or I'll do it."
You trembled, an uneasy stickiness starting to coat the inside of said underwear despite yourself. But you did as you were told in order to avoid having Shauna wrangle them off of you.
Your heart was racing, your blood turning cold, and the sweat turning to ice along your skin as she gazed at you patiently like a hawk.
You added them to the pile and Shauna jerked her chin.
"Took you long enough," she said. "Go join Nat. I'll be there in a moment."
You slowly dipped into the water inch by inch until it was up to your chest, bottom of your toes barely managing to stay dug into the sand the deeper you got.
Natalie looked up and grinned at you, swimming to meet you the rest of the way. She crossed the waters to you and slid her arms around your waist, pulling you close until your chests touched.
You hoped she could not feel how fast your heart ran in your ribcage, otherwise you could be held for questioning.
You were not, however, expecting a knee to come rest between your thighs when she went to tangle her legs with yours. The following squeak had her grinning like a cat with freshly stolen milk.
"Make that sound again," Nat purred as she jerked her knee upward, this time rubbing into your cunt. You gasped and fell into her.
"Nat -- Nat stop." You dug your fingers into her shoulder to push back from her despite the dizzy feeling you got from the way she circled her knee.
"Why?" the blonde wondered, reaching over to tuck a strand of damp hair behind your ear and leaning across to suck at your collarbone. "You're so pretty."
"B-but shouldn't we talk about t-this?" you whispered, startling at the screams and laughter of the girls from across the lake. They sounded so close but the likelihood of them seeing you was little.
You felt a warmth against your back and another arm wrap around your waist. A hand ran along the curve of your neck, fingers pressing none-to-gently along each muscle that popped out with her puppeting your head. Shauna looked down at you as your head angled up to meet her gaze.
"Look at you." Then she leaned down and kissed you, teeth immediately making themselves apart of the equation as they dug into your bottom lip and she held her hand close to your jugular. Not squeezing, not even putting weight, just staying there.
A jolt of pleasure rushing down your spine. A whine escaped your lips and into Shauna's as Nat continued licking and biting along the skin there, her knee slowly moving up until it rubbed directly into your clit.
This was sudden -- unexpected and like a curveball sent across the field to knock you out.
"W-wait," you pleaded when Shauna broke the kiss for air. "Wait, stop."
"No," Shauna purred, fingers dancing along your abdomen. "We're staking our claim now that fucking Mari has started sniffing around where she doesn't belong."
"W-what?"
"W-what?" Shauna mocked. This time, the hand started applying the pressure it so lacked before. "God. You're fucking dumb, sometimes. Such a big brain but no thoughts."
"Oh, she's smart. My smart, pretty, empathetic girl," Nat crooned in front of you has she drags you and Shauna deeper into her, thus forcing you more on her knee. "Grind, baby."
"No," you whined. You tried to gain some form of control in this -- tried to collect yourself and try to splash at the water, but Shauna struck. She forced you against Nat even closer, leaving no escape. Both of them were more active, more stronger than you. You had no choice.
"Yes," Shauna whined back, mocking. Teeth started pulling at your earlobe. "Mari has been digging up a shit ton of trouble for us lately. She refuses to follow the rules, she's pitting everyone against each other, and what's worse: she's starting to use you to get to us."
What in the actual good fuck was she rambling about? A shudder rippled through you as Nat pulled you in for the kiss this time, allowing Shauna to roam and explore your body as she would. \
You fought it with best intentions, but the climax was building and you had no other option but to give into it, Shauna's body forcefully keeping you in motion. Nat's knee grew slick under the water as you came across her skin, breaking the kiss and crying out into the night.
"Such a good girl," Nat breathed, circling her knee four more times to ease you through it.
"Fuck," you sobbed, slumping in their arms as tears overcame you and you worked on recovering from the orgasm that just destroyed and put you back together all at once.
"Fucked stupid and sweet, just what I need," Shauna murmured as she stroked your sides with surprisingly tender hands while Nat kept her knee in place, not trusting you to be steady in the water.
"Why?" was all you could ask when you had wanted to break out numerous questions.
Shauna untangled wet hair, kissing small bites into your cheeks and neck. "You're so lonely, aren't you? We can't have Mari stealing you away. When the time comes, we need you on our side."
"For what?"
She did not reply.
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After a while of floating in the water, most of it in which you yourself floated away from the place entirely, Nat and Shauna sought to get you out before you grew too cold.
Nat got out first and started a fire around the stump and chairs, but she seemed to be laying out the clothes like a blanket as Shauna guided you out and over to the fire.
They push you down and instead of leaving you to your own devices, Nat has you lay on top of her. "C'mon, let's cuddle," she murmured.
You didn't want to be touched, not by her or Shauna, or anyone. But your mental shields were shattered and Shauna was giving you a look as she threw a log into the flames, the orange flickering across her face like an angry shadow.
So you sit in Nat's lap instead of laying down, insisting you'd be more comfortable. She agrees and wraps your legs around her hips to help you get comfortable.
Nat was scratching at your back almost sweetly, and you could have fallen asleep then and there if it hadn't been for the fact that not even ten minutes later you felt her teeth grazing your shoulder and her fingers dipping low into your cunt.
You locked up in her arms, a high-pitched gasp escaping your lungs as her fingers sank into your heat which was still wet and allowed easy entrance.
"Were you sleepy? I'm sorry. I can't help it, you're just so beautiful and perfect like this," Natalie soothed as her other hand resumed stroking your back while two fingers started pumping evenly in and out of you.
You moaned into her bare neck, drool escaping as she brushed her nails against your walls. You started moving into the thrusts, unable to help yourself and feeling wanton.
"Does that feel good, baby? Does that make you happy?" Nat asked so softly and sweetly, peppering kisses along your skin endlessly. \
"Feels good," you whined.
"Good girl."
It wasn't long before Shauna joined in. "Fucking slut," the butcher hissed from behind you, getting to her knees with a soft thud on the laid out clothes and spitting on your back.
You squeaked when the wetness hit your skin, but quickly fingers swiped along the dip in your spine where it landed, collecting it on fingers.
"You're going to be fucking owned after tonight. Any pleasure you seek out will be from me or Nat. Any friendships you think you have will end. You don't need them."
Your body suddenly jerks forward when you feel Shauna's fingers start circling the outside of your back hole. "No, no, no," you blabbered, clenching up and trying to push as close to Nat as the huntress would allow.
"Hold her still," Shauna snapped.
Nat complied, stilling inside of you and killing the building orgasm in the process. She pressed her self as tight as possible into you and forced your writhing to come to a stop as Shauna pushed her way inside the outer rings of your ass.
"Ohmygod," you wailed, muffled, into Nat's shoulder as you tried to escape from the intrusion. Shauna snarled behind you and ran her free hand down your ass, nails leaving hot trails of stings in their wake.
"Move," Shauna ordered tightly, "fuck her like the whore she is."
Natalie pulled away to check your features -- she did not want to injure you in this. She saw only a glazed, floaty look in your eye and bit her lip before thrusting upwards again.
You gasped when Shauna followed suit, the two of them working in tandem to take you while you shivered and cried in their arms. Natalie whispered soothing praises in one ear while Shauna took from you and grew harsher in movement.
Something angry and disgusting was starting to coil like a viper in the darkest part of your entire being, wanting to strike them and cause as much pain as they were causing you. But instead only the crushing wave of the onslaught of an orgasm crashed into you.
You screamed through it -- it was devastating. It was the most painful thing you've ever experienced, and yet it was the greatest pleasure you've ever known. This is what destruction felt like and you reveled in it while also drowning in the aftermath.
They sat with you until the shakes and shudders ended, the only witness to your new life in the Wilderness being the moon you used to find comfort and escape from the overheating sun and burning in.
Now nothing in this world could keep you safe. Nothing, except maybe death.
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delimeful · 2 days ago
Text
a promise softly sung (1)
BTHB: Rendered Mute
Summary:
Stripped of both his ability to speak and his willingness to communicate, Logan has resigned himself to his new position as the latest hopeless case in the intergalactic version of a wildlife rehabilitation center. None of the staff has managed to identify him as a Human or even as sapient in general. It's not the easiest on his dignity, but in the interest of avoiding more pain, he'd like to keep it that way. Now, if only the strangest alien he'd ever met would stop trying to put enrichment in his enclosure.
warnings: severe dehumanization, miscommunication/assumptions, mentions of violence and injury, mentions of euthanasia, references to torture
-
Logan woke to the familiar buzz of the lighting system flicking on, illuminating the cell around him and agitating the other denizens of his current prison.
He didn’t bother trying to turn back over and go back to sleep; even if the other creatures around him miraculously settled down enough to allow it, the harsh noise of the lighting system was at just the right irritating pitch to keep him awake whether he liked it or not.
It probably wasn’t intentional— from what he’d heard and observed thus far, this facility wasn’t anything close to the first one he’d been kept in. There weren’t any training sessions or punishments for bad behavior, nor was he constantly eyed by speculative buyers.
During the first few weeks he’d been here, he’d frequently observed his neighbors through the thin window that ran along the front of the cell, and most of them didn’t show any signs of discomfort or even irritation at the noise, meaning that it likely wasn’t intended as a deterrent.
He felt fairly confident in his assessment. Early on, he’d gleaned that this was the intergalactic version of an animal shelter, and one that seemed to value proper care for its unwilling residents. He didn’t expect that the aliens running it were intentionally trying to agitate the fauna they were trying to adopt out or rehabilitate.
His daily headache arrived regardless, but it soothed what little remained of his temper to know that this particular suffering wasn’t inflicted purposefully, just to be cruel. Ignorance was hardly an excuse, but he’d found it was far preferable to intentional cruelty.
The thought made him snort as he slowly, painstakingly pushed himself up to a sitting position. The Logan of five years ago would never have been placated by knowing his captors were simply ignorant. If anything, it would have only made him more furious; how could anyone pretend to be fulfilling an animal’s needs without doing sufficient research to understand the animal?
Then again, the person he’d been five years ago wouldn’t have accepted the idea of being trapped in an alien animal shelter, seen as little more than a mindless beast. He would find his present self unrecognizable, unable to reconcile with the very idea of sitting sedately in the alien equivalent of a kennel, silently waiting for the start of a day that was virtually indistinguishable from yesterday or tomorrow.
Sometimes, Logan missed being that person. He’d been overwhelmingly naive back then, but even when things had been at their most painful, there had been a sort of thrilling vindication in seeing his handlers grow furious, a heady satisfaction in his own stubborn refusal to give in.
It had been pointless, of course, just as his nostalgia for that vivacious attitude was pointless. His pride had only earned him more pain.
He began his usual morning routine of simple stretches, keeping one ear on the ruckus around him. There likely hadn’t been any notable new arrivals overnight, but trying to guess which creatures were nearby by sound alone was one of the few sources of entertainment left to him.
Most of the closest noises were dog-like, growls or barks or heavy rumbling. Further away, the cacophony took a much higher pitch, full of the whining, squeaking, and whistling of smaller, less aggressive beasts. As always, Logan was glad for the distance. There may have been more daily variety— the more harmless creatures got adopted out much more frequently— but it wouldn’t have been worth upgrading his daily headache to a daily migraine.
He paused mid-stretch, finally picking out the source of his unease. There was a sound missing, no sign of the familiar rattle of the food and water dish being pulled through the bars and refilled. It was almost always the first thing the employees here did after the lights came on, and while inherently degrading, he had found the routine reassuring.
If they weren’t yet offering the morning meal, there were two prevalent possibilities as to why. Logan didn’t think any of the animals had injured itself or passed away overnight, since there was no urgent calling or somber conversation. That meant an alien had come in to adopt as soon as the facility had opened, a rare but not outstanding occurrence.
If he strained to hear past the growing noise levels, he could make out the mechanical chatter of a translator, confirming his suspicions.
To his surprise, the voices seemed to be coming closer. He shifted out of his stretch, drawing his knees up under him and adjusting the makeshift toga he’d created for himself from one of the provided linens. After being actively dehumanized for years, Logan had long since lost any sense of humiliation or modesty, but he still found some small comfort in clothing, and most aliens didn’t think much of it. There were apparently plenty of animals out there that created simple coverings or incorporated materials around them into fur or feathers.
(At one point, Logan had mistakenly believed that one of his neighbors had been another sapient creature after watching it meticulously tie shredded fabric into little strips and tuck it between feathers in a decorative display. He’d wasted a week attempting to communicate in various ways before realizing the futility, and had accidentally unnerved the poor creature enough to get his cell moved to a different part of the holding room.)
It was unusual that he saw a client approach this section of the shelter so quickly. He was well aware that this was the area designated for undesirables, higher-risk fauna that was more aggressive or feral, similar to how humans would take care to isolate dogs that had been rescued from fighting rings or cats that hadn’t ever been socialized. They didn’t often get visitors, and adoptions were even less frequent.
On his end, Logan hadn’t lashed out too severely at the staff or scared potential clients away like most of the others, but he’d still been relegated to this section. He knew why, of course. Suffice to say, his previous “adoption” had ended poorly.
His mood soured at the memories, and by the time footsteps reached his aisle, he’d shuffled to one corner of the cell and seated himself solidly on the floor, leaning his shoulder against the wall. It would be easier to focus on translating what he could of the conversation if he didn’t have to worry about a sudden headrush or the fatigue that occasionally swept over him after standing for too long.
“—great to hear!” The voice of a staff member trailed into proper hearing range, chirping a phrase used so frequently that Logan had no trouble parsing it out in accented Common.
They launched into a well-worn recitation of what Logan was assuming was standard information about the facility and its available fauna. He still didn’t know enough Common to keep up with the more complicated terms, and could only guess at the general meaning.
Frankly, his attention was diverted by the number of overlapping steps he could make out as they approached. Entire family units came in to look around occasionally, sure, but not to this section. Some of the creatures here were vicious enough to give children nightmares.
There was the clicking sound of a button, and Logan watched dully as the front wall of his cell slowly shifted from opaque to transparent, gradually revealing the muted colors of the narrow hallway outside the cell. Most of the staff used the small viewing windows to check in on them during meals, but when a prospective client came to look, they made sure everything was fully visible.
Two figures came into view as the wall turned almost entirely see-through, with only a faint grey tinge to the material. One was a staff member he’d seen often enough before: a small, feathery alien with big eyes, fluffy antennae, and a poncho that draped over most of its dust-colored form. The other was no species that he’d ever seen before.
It was built vaguely like a centaur, with four stubby legs, two upper limbs, and a long, prehensile tail. Nearly every inch of it was encased in a shining, thick layer of what Logan could only describe as goo. It was as though the alien was covered in an outer shell of vibrant radioactive green gelatin, with only indistinct shadowy shapes visible to indicate that there was any sort of underlying structure at all.
It had no mouth or nose, only two flat black eyes that didn’t blink, and a discolored gray spot below them that was uncannily reminiscent of a handlebar mustache. There were two large, shell-like protrusions on either side of its head, extending past the gelatin layer. From the crown of its head to the base of its spine, there was a stretch of brown plantlike tendrils that writhed subtly in place, looking like a horse’s mane if a horse’s mane was also made of rotting seaweed.
Logan’s interest sharpened despite himself. Most of the shine of being in space had worn off somewhere in the first two years of methodical torture, but occasionally he still felt a glint of that familiar curiosity.
The unknown alien watched him right back, taking in every detail of the small room. A thin pad with blankets piled on it in one corner, and Logan sitting slumped in the other. A few simple toys scattered on the floor, largely untouched.
It asked a question, and Logan noted the way it seemed to hum in different tones before the translator echoed its words. Vibrations produced by an internal organ? Unlike humans, it had no mouth to shape the noise with, so the language must have been composed of variations in the tonal humming itself.
The employee chirped back an affirmative, keeping their gaze averted from meeting Logan’s dull stare directly in the automatic way that he’d noticed in most aliens. The staff especially were careful about eye contact, presumably they received some sort of training to reduce agitation in the fauna they were looking after.
It was somehow refreshing, the way the new alien unabashedly locked eyes with him. He hadn’t realized how much one could miss simple things like eye contact until he was suddenly entirely deprived of it.
It couldn’t last, of course. Logan hadn’t followed most of the conversation thus far, mostly out of general disinterest, but he knew more than enough to recognize the phrase that always came up when he was spoken about.
“There are recorded violent incidents with multiple previous fosters,” the employee recited, the cadence of the phrase so familiar that Logan could have imitated it perfectly, if he was feeling masochistic.
Instead, he kept his mouth firmly closed and idly waited for the duo to move on to the next cage.
The new alien shifted slightly, the reflections of the overhead lights warping along its glossy body.
“What are its—,” it asked, the translator adding a questioning tone indicator. Logan didn’t recognize the last word, but the employee’s response cleared things up within a few sentences.
“Not good,” they answered, antennae angling back in a display of upset. “It’s already been here for a while. If we can’t find the source planet and nobody takes it in, we’ll have to put it down.”
Those weren’t the words exactly, of course. The employee was using a strange euphemism, but unlike most of the creatures here, Logan had more than enough memory retention and cognitive processing to notice just what inevitably happened to the creatures that were referred to as such.
He waited for the spike of panic, the natural response of his body to the threat of death, but it didn’t come. His heart rate may have jumped by a beat or three, but he mostly felt a strange sense of distance from it all.
What difference did it make? Could what he was doing now really be called ‘living’ by any stretch of the imagination?
Logan met the alien’s eyes plainly, still oddly numb to it all.
The alien hummed a long, toneless note, one that didn’t translate into any specific words, and then stepped forward and tapped on the clear material with one of its thick fingers. As though everything up to this point hadn’t been dehumanizing enough.
If things were different, maybe Logan would have tried to snap out a demand or insult to cover for his wounded pride. As it was, he only turned his head further into the wall and closed his eyes.
This didn’t remotely deter the alien. The resulting thunking noises continued to be loud and repetitive, and Logan gained a sudden and unhappy empathy for every fish he’d ever witnessed being pestered by a child in a pet store. Even the employee looked uncomfortable, feathers fluffing out slightly, though surprisingly enough they didn’t try to stop the stranger’s irritating behavior.
Finally, Logan turned back to it with a glare, letting his lips curl back to bare his teeth in an odd configuration, half-sneer and half-snarl. There, he’d confirmed it. He was scary and aggressive, nothing more than a beast waiting to be executed. Now, move along already.
The tail behind the stranger began to wag slightly, a rapid back-and-forth movement that was so reminiscent of a happy dog, it genuinely startled Logan for a moment. Not many species would react to a threat display with playful excitement. Surely, the matching body language was just a coincidence?
Without hesitation, the stranger turned and asked something that Logan heard almost daily, though never before about his own person.
“Can I go in and meet it?”
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buckysgrace · 2 days ago
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now daddy!steve hcs?
OOOOOH interesting thoughts hmmmmm.... thank you for this!!
Also a baby hog. Probably does a lot of cosleeping (ik that's like a no no now but)
He's definitely over prepared. He has read up on books, magazines etc to find out everything he needs to know to prepare for the birth and welcoming of his little baby
Definitely see him being a teen parent idk just fitting in a way
Gives his baby all the love and attention that he never felt like he got <3
Also looooves to show his kids off. He's very very proud of them (and you of course hehe)
Gets up every time the baby cries, even if it's your turn. Also very good at changing diapers he has made a sort of game out of it to see how fast he can do it (and if he can do it without gagging this time lmao)
His babies have to have lots of hair of course, also covered in lil moles like him as they get older hehe
also very cute if they have his big cute head hehe
Robin of course would constantly be complimenting him for managing to make something so cute
Lots of family road trips!! he will turn this car around damn it
I can see him sort of becoming overwhelmed at the first 2-3? like ok yes still big family but lets wait a few years before we start going again lmao
Cries when he gets to cut the umbilical cord hehe. Also very very excited for the skin to skin contact so he can bond with his lil baby
Would sing them them to sleep in the rocking chair. He also ends up passing out but it's fine
Idk why I picture him having fussier babies but I do?? Really struggles and feels awful the first few months until the little baby finally gets settled :)))
Ya know he's searching for matching shoes with his kids too, most definitely lmao
takes them to all sorts of events for holidays and everything else lmaooo just wants them to get the most out of it
also loves to blow raspberries on his babies to get them giggling hehe
Gets his hair pulled a lot by them :/
lots of nose kisses hehe
Loves to play with them but sort of does it in a dangerous way? and not as in the kids getting hurt, as in he's the one accidentally getting beat up by them lmao
His children are definitely huge bundles of bursting energy hehe. Always needing to do something.
His kids are runners lmao. Almost all of them. Y'all look away for a second and they're sprinting smh
and at least one of them is a biter too omg
Is ashamed to admit that he tried to backpack leashes a few times lmaooo but in his defense they were cute!! Only stopped using them because the children liked to run as fast as they could, only to see how far they'd fly when they got yanked back lmao. They thought it was hilarious, you guys did not.
Probably buys a lot of toys for them within the first few years until he realizes that most go to waste?? so then he's more particular and careful about his selections lol
Also I can see him being a lil overbearing at first?? Just very concerned with the first few over keeping hands clean, what they're eating, etc etc. I think he eventually develops a nice balance tho??
Also spends a lot of time making sure they're being safe and healthy (like putting sunscreen on for example or making sure they're staying hydrated) but forgets to do that for himself lmao. Ends up with the nastiest sunburn ever
Definitely curses for the first time in front of them too when one of them accidentally hits his reddened skin
Tries to get interested into everything his kids like so he can be involved too?? Or at least show that he cares??
loooooves to show off on the trampoline too and his kids think it's so cool?? lots of time spent learning how to backflip. and roughhousing omg
Does his best to help them in school as much as possible, but he's definitely panicking the whole time lmao. Love the idea of him trying to teach himself and his child math late at night
Overall he's a very, very good daddy hehe.
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