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egcdeath · 2 years ago

Text

the l word

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: the five times you realized that you loved joel, and the first time one of you says it.

word count: 9.1k

warnings: canon divergent, no apocalypse, 5+1 fic, hurt/comfort, a certain someone gets punched, brief mention of postpartum depression & abandonment, really brief mention of physical abuse in 3, fluff, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, found family

author’s note: happy very early valentine’s day! this is part three of the soccer parents au, you can read spectator sport (p1) and clean sheet (p2) here!

this fic would not be possible if it were not for the help of @freakinfairykind, who sent me the idea for scene 3 and listened to my thought vomit whenever i hit a roadblock! you can thank them for the brilliance that is what occurs in that scene :)! enjoy!

part four / series masterlist

Zero

After Nathan, you were sure that you would never fall in love again. Love was supposed to be beautiful and soft—a random bouquet of flowers, having a whole conversation with just your eyes, sweet messages sent to you when you expected it least and needed it most, and foot massages after a long day. For you, love had been nothing of the sort—settling for mediocrity, spitting out venomous words during arguments, and biting back tears on forgotten anniversaries.

Love wasn’t kind or patient, or rainbows and flowers. Love was a storm cloud that followed you around when you were around him, pouring sadness and anger on you and striking you with lightning bolts of resentment.

Maybe some people just simply weren’t meant for love. Maybe you were one of them.

One

After years of trying to hold together a failing marriage and hide the myriad of painful feelings you were going through for the sake of your daughter, bottling up your feelings had become your preferred coping mechanism to everyday stressors.

For the most part, it worked for you. Sure, some days were harder than others, and the smallest confrontation or blip in the day would send you spiraling; but more often than not, you were able to compartmentalize whatever was bothering you and save it for a rainy day.

That was part of what worked so well about the relationship you had with Joel during the soccer season—you had the opportunity to unscrew the lid of the shaken bottle of your feelings just a little bit, taking some of the edge off by yelling about completely inconsequential things. But now, you don't have that outlet. And today was one of those days that you desperately needed it.

Nathan had come by to pick up Chloe just a bit ago, and it was very obvious that she hadn’t exactly wanted to spend her weekend with him. Some of her friends were going to the mall and having a sleepover, and because Nathan wasn’t particularly fond of their parents, he’d very openly told her no. She begged and pleaded to stay with you (mainly so she could go hang out with her friends), which of course broke your heart a little bit, but also led to a pretty dramatic outburst from your daughter to Nathan when he’d picked her up.

“You’re raising a spoiled little brat,” he hissed at you, pointing an accusatory finger once Chloe was in the car.

“At least I’m raising her. You only show up when it’s convenient for you,” you shot back. If Nathan wanted to stoop low, you could fall to his level. “Put your finger down. She’s watching us.”

“A little argument won’t hurt her,” he scoffed. “See? You’re proving my point: you spoil her too much.”

“Because years of watching her parents bicker wasn’t traumatic enough? Get in the fucking car, Nathan.”

He huffed, looking back at the car, then over at you. “Fine. But before I go, I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking poorly about me in front of her. Clearly she’s listening to you and acting out because of it.”

“Have you considered that you’re just a shit father and maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you?” you were already making your way back inside, feeling the avalanche of emotions beginning to stir inside of you, and a little frightened of what might come out next.

“You’re still such a bitch. Every day I praise every deity that’s out there that I left your sorry ass.”

You were viciously fighting the urge to get the last word in, knowing that whatever would come out next wouldn’t be good, and you certainly didn’t want Chloe seeing you like that. You left him with a sarcastic thumbs up, then slammed your front door, taking deep breaths to attempt to calm yourself down.

You crumbled down in front of the door, still maintaining slow and deep breaths. It was no big deal. Nathan just says stuff like that to stir the pot. You just needed to find something to take your mind off of everything. Your mind went to the scarf you’d been working on crocheting, something you could mindlessly do for a little while while you cooled off.

The scarf was going well. You were calmly crocheting the evening away when you checked your phone to find a few apologetic messages from your coworkers. Feeling confused, you went on to check your email, only to find that the promotion you’d spent the last few months of your life slaving away for had been given to someone else—someone who had worked half as hard as you, and even took credit for a few of your projects.

Your hands shook as you set down your phone and attempted to pick back up the crochet hook. You were fine, right? Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes you sacrifice hours of your free time, hours of time you’ll never get back with your child, or significant other, hours you’ll never get back of sleep, hours of-

You cut your mind off, tossing aside the scarf and taking a deep breath. You were gonna be okay. This just meant you could take your foot off the gas going forward, since your work, effort, and time clearly was not being valued. Maybe you would just sit at your desk and play games, then slap your name on projects and presentations like Naomi. Maybe you’d just-

Your phone began to vibrate on your bed and your immediate reaction was to silence it, but upon checking the contact name, you became slightly more inclined to answer.

“Hey! I almost thought you weren’t gonna pick up,” the man on the other end chuckled.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, although you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anything else today. With how your day was going, Joel was probably calling you to break up.

“Better than okay. We finished up early, and Sarah’s already at her friend’s. You in the mood for some company?”

No, not particularly. In fact, if Joel came over, you’d probably end up going off on him over something you don’t really mean, successfully putting an end to the best thing you’ve had in a while.

“Uh,” your voice cracked, and a rogue tear slipped down your face. You didn’t even know that you were on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry,” you uttered, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes.

“Sorry for what? You don’t have to feel bad for not wanting me over,” he said genuinely, not picking up on your emotional state over the phone.

“No, I do want you over,” you whimpered. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“What? I promise you I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m going home now, but I can also come to your place if you want me to.”

“Please,” you grit out.

“You okay?” he asked, finally catching on to the fact that something was very off with you.

“I don’t know,” you confessed.

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“No.”

“You sure you want me to come over?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, desperately trying to fend off your tears.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Bye,” you hung up, burrowing yourself under layers of blankets and curling up onto your side. Maybe this tidal wave of emotions would pass by the time Joel got to your place. You closed your eyes as you took deep, shaky breaths, wiping away stray tears every now and then as they fell. You could pull yourself together.

You kept telling yourself this as you dragged yourself out of bed to answer the door, but the moment you saw Joel with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, you completely lost it. He immediately tossed the items down and pulled you into a tight embrace, not exactly knowing what was wrong, but instinctually wanting to comfort you regardless.

You didn’t even really know what it was either. Sure, you were pissed that you’d lost the promotion, and even more upset that Nathan had called your daughter a name while insulting your parenting skills, but it was far more than that. It was every little thing from the past two months that had upset you in some capacity that you had decided to push as far down as possible.

You sobbed until your throat was raw and your eyes grew sore from crying so much. The whole time Joel wordlessly held you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and swaying you back and forth just the slightest bit. You almost felt like your tears would never stop, and the more you willed yourself to pull it together, the harder it was to do so.

Finally, you pulled away, head hanging with humiliation by the emotions abruptly pouring out of you. You truly felt like a live wire. You should’ve just told Joel not to come over.

“Want me to run you a bath?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up so he could look at you, and rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “Or is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“A bath is good,” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You almost felt like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. The shame of being a grown woman who couldn’t even control her emotions was overwhelming, but Joel didn’t seem to mind much at all. He simply led you up to your bathroom and quietly filled the tub for you, checking it every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Once the tub was filled up, he helped you undress, then held your hand as you stepped into the tub.

“Would you like me to stay?” Joel asked as you settled into the tub.

“Not really,” you admitted.

“Okay. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs.”

Somehow, the bath was everything you needed. It was just warm enough to relax your rather tense muscles, and just quiet enough to allow you to actually process your thoughts. You sat and soaked in the bath for a while, just inhaling the scent of lavender, and trying your best to let go of the feelings that you’d been holding onto for so long.

Eventually, you felt ready to talk about things, and called out Joel’s name, who after a moment, showed up in your bathroom and sat down on a towel next to the tub.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching for your pruny hand.

“Better,” you answered as you laced your fingers with his.

“Well, I’m here when you feel ready to talk about it. And if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, that’s okay too.”

“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, the apology being more of a force of habit.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Joel assured, “we all feel our feelings sometimes,” he pushed away a bit of hair that had fallen into your face.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I guess,” you continued. It had been a while since you’d shown any negative emotions in front of anyone, let alone a significant other. In fact, the last time you’d been sad in front of a significant other, you’d been laughed at and mocked. You’d been conditioned to see your own vulnerability as weakness, as a character flaw you needed to apologize for.

“Like what? Naked?” he teased, trying to at least make you smile when you’d clearly been feeling so down. “You know I don’t mind that at all. Seriously, though. There’s nothing wrong with being upset, and there’s nothing wrong with being upset in front of the people you care about.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. It had been so long since anyone had made you feel like you weren’t a burden for having a rough day. Joel gently brushed away your tears with his thumb, and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you,” you muttered, feeling all sorts of feelings, particularly one feeling you couldn’t quite describe that had been lying dormant for years of your life.

You eventually got out of the tub once the water had become too cold and you had become

somewhat of a human prune, and you found yourself curled up in bed with Joel, wearing a flannel that he’d left behind the last time he was over.

“Feeling any better?” he asked once again, gently rubbing your back as a trashy reality TV show played quietly in the background.

“Yeah,” you mumbled as you looked up at the ceiling, “it’s been a rough few months.”

“Months?” Joel asked, scooting closer to you. “What’s been happening?”

“Too much to get into,” you sighed. “I guess it just all came out now.”

Joel turned down the volume of the TV, and turned his body so that he could face you properly. “If you want to talk, we have the time. I may or may not have drank a coffee on my way over here, so I’ll be completely alert for the next few hours.”

He gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, a little reminder that he was here for you.

“Today’s just been… bad. When Nathan picked Chloe up, she was upset so he called her a spoiled brat and said that it was my fault that she was one. Obviously I do a lot for her, and I know that I’m a good mom, but sometimes the way he talks about her scares me a little. I don’t want her to have self-esteem issues because her dad likes to name-call. I mean, she’s probably gonna have enough issues from our shitty relationship and messy divorce. That really upset me, but that definitely wasn’t the last straw or anything.”

Joel silently sat and listened, holding your hand and listening attentively.

“I lost the promotion, Joel. You know, the one I’ve been working absurd hours for? But it’s not just that, it’s just… there are months of emotions I haven’t had a chance to process. I guess it just all came out now after that.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “Nathan is an asshole. He shouldn’t be saying that kind of thing about his child just to make you feel bad. And your boss is stupid for not giving you that position when you’ve clearly earned it. Everything you’ve felt today is valid, but so is everything else that you’ve been holding in for the past… however long. It’s okay to feel your feelings in the moment instead of waiting for them to boil over.”

“I guess, it’s just… I don’t know. I’ve had to be strong for so long. I don’t know if I know how to not wait for my emotions to boil over.”

“Well, you don’t have to be so strong anymore. You’re not alone,” he assured you. “If you ever need me to watch Chloe because you need to go out to the middle of nowhere and scream, or just need someone to talk your feelings out with, I am more than happy to do so. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, setting your head on Joel’s chest.

You were getting that weird, dormant feeling in you once again. There was an odd warmth in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, that felt strange and familiar, but most of all, exciting. You had no idea what was going on, or what that feeling was, but you did know that you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon.

And honestly, it didn’t seem like it would.

Two

Walking into Joel’s home to the sound of soft guitar chords made you feel a bit like you had woken up in a dream, or died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t often that you’d heard him play guitar. Sing? Sure! He loved to sing along to a song he liked on the radio, or do karaoke with you and the kids. But playing guitar was something that he seemed to like to keep to himself.

Joel had picked Chloe up from school, as you had an important work event that you’d anticipated going quite late, and as you’d predicted, it was nearly midnight by the time you got to Joel’s place. It was rare for you to see those two alone, without yours or Sarah’s presence, but you’d assumed the latter had gone to bed due to how late it was and the fact that they had school in the morning.

So hearing Joel play for your daughter felt… weird. But a good weird. Like he trusted her enough to be doing something that he often kept under wraps, even for you.

“I love this song!” you heard your daughter exclaim from the living room. You rounded a corner, not quite ready to appear yet, but curious enough to eavesdrop on the scene.

Joel chuckled at her reaction, “should we sing it together?”

“Maybe, I’m not very good, though.”

“I doubt that,” Joel said, continuing to play the introduction to the song on a loop.

“I… fine, I’ll sing.”

The two of them began to sing along to the song, and you could’ve sworn that your heart did an actual flip as you listened. There was something very sweet about the whole scene, of Joel playing a song your daughter loved, of him assuring her that she was good enough, and singing something together.

You should’ve felt bad for listening in on the scene, for invading on a moment that was clearly meant to be private, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel that way when your heart was so filled with… something that you couldn’t quite place.

The song came to a soft conclusion, and you figured there was no better time to finally step out from behind the wall than then.

“You guys sounded so good!” you stated as you entered the room.

“Oh hi,” Joel greeted a little awkwardly, looking down at his guitar as if he’d been caught red handed.

“Mom!” Chloe exclaimed, coming over to you and hugging you. “I missed you.”

“We were just killing time while we waited for you to get home. How was work?”

“Eh,” you shrugged, sitting down across from Joel as Chloe curled up next to you. “It was work.”

“Mom, did you know that Joel sings and plays guitar? He’s really good!”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” you acted surprised for your child, but looked mischievously at your partner. It wasn’t often that you had the chance to get Joel to play you something, and you refused to let the opportunity slip away from you. “Can you play me something?”

“He can!” Chloe accepted the offer before Joel could begin to protest. God, was this child your mini-you. “Go ahead, Joel.”

He looked to you as if he needed some sort of excuse to not do it, or encouragement to play (more likely than not, he was looking for an out), but you simply shrugged, far too enthused at the idea of him playing guitar for you.

Just as the man sighed and began to put his fingers to the string, Sarah came down the stairs and plopped herself right next to you.

“You guys are loud,” she stated, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized. “You were just about to miss your dad’s concert!”

“Oh good,” Sarah giggled, getting all comfortable next to you as she pulled a blanket over her lap.

“I feel like this is a premeditated attack,” Joel held onto his guitar.

“It’s definitely not. We just want you to share your gift with the world!”

“Alright, fine. Only because I like you guys so much.”

The three of you cheered from the couch as Joel began to play again, the soft acoustic notes of a love song you’d heard a few times before. As Joel played and sang, he looked straight at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the lyrics were coming straight from his heart to you.

That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you’d become more and more familiar with over the course of your relationship began to reappear as you sat there, the moment a snapshot of the perfect domestic bliss that had become your home life. As you sat with your two favorite children in the world, and your favorite man, you realized that you’d never felt more content in your life.

Three

When you agreed to come to a bar with Joel, you hadn’t expected it to be a quaint little hole-in-the-wall with great live music.

The atmosphere was lively, the drinks were dangerously sweet, and best of all, it was cute watching Joel in his element. Part of you wondered if he ever saw himself up on the stage, playing for a little audience. Although, he was so bashful and shy playing in front of you and the girls that you wondered if he would like it at all.

You finished off your first drink rather quickly, but you were feeling up for another, and prepared to head back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?” you asked Joel over the loud music.

“I’m alright. Thank you, though,” he kissed your cheek, then looked back up at the stage, directing all of his focus there once more.

You made your way back to the bar, where you ordered another fruity drink for yourself and patiently waited for it to be made, humming along to the cover being sung on stage.

Being able to find out more about what Joel liked to spend his time doing was (unsurprisingly) quite nice. While he was vulnerable with his emotions, he was often a little more closed off when it came to sharing his hobbies and interests. You wondered how many of these live shows and open mics he was familiar with, how many local artists he was friends with. Would he ever feel comfortable enough around you to share those things with you? Well, you certainly hoped so.

You looked around with a small smile on your face at the thought of learning more about your partner’s interests. Had he ever been the one up on stage? Maybe before Sarah was born and he was launched straight into the time consuming world of fatherhood. Although, he surely would’ve shared that with you by now.

You were drawn out of thought when eyes landed on a head of hair that looked a little too familiar for your liking.

No.

There was no way.

This bar was definitely not his scene. In fact, if you’d suggested this bar, he would’ve laughed in your face and called you a hipster, before dragging you out to some stuffy restaurant where he’d complain about the portion size of both his meal and the bill.

Your mind was just playing a mean trick on you. You’d had a somewhat stressful week, and sometimes drinking made you the slightest bit paranoid. Besides, it was just someone’s hair. Literally anyone could have that hair color, or hair cut, and although the world was small, it wasn’t that small.

Just as you began to fall headfirst into your nerves, the bartender handed you your drink, and you walked back to Joel, head still in the clouds.

You couldn’t shake that off feeling, even as Joel danced around with you and stole a sip of your drink, both actions bringing a smile to your face, but not quite quelling the growing discomfort in your stomach.

You just needed to go clear your mind and freshen up. At least, that’s what you told yourself before telling Joel to keep your drink safe and power walking to the bathroom.

You stood at the sink, splashing your face with water as cold as the faucets would go. Nathan was not here. You needed to just relax, and enjoy the fun date that Joel had planned. You couldn’t keep letting this man ruin your experiences, even when he wasn’t present.

“You okay, hun?” a voice asked you while your head was bowed over the sink. When you looked up, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, as if you were some ridiculous cartoon character.

Well. Your brain must’ve really been fucking with you today. Or the Universe just really hated you.

Claire, Nathan’s new girlfriend, was asking you if you were alright in the bathroom of a bar that your new boyfriend had suggested.

You were completely unsure of whether she knew who you were or not, although she seemed tipsy enough not to care.

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled awkwardly at her. “But, uh, my mascara’s a little smudged. Any chance you have a makeup wipe?”

“Yeah!” she said, digging into her purse to check for the item.

You’d never met Claire before, but as far as first impressions went, this one wasn’t too bad. She offered you the wipe, then stood next to you as you dabbed at your under eye.

“You meet anyone fun tonight?” she asked, beginning to touch up her own makeup.

“No, I’m actually here with my partner. He really likes the music,” you said casually, dabbing at the same spot so you could at least attempt to maintain your composure in an otherwise dramatically ironic and tense situation.

“Oh no. Was he the one making you cry?”

“Cry? No! I was sweating. We were dancing,” suddenly, a slightly perverse question crossed your mind. “Does your partner make you cry a lot?”

“How do you even know I have one?” she giggled, sounding less accusatory and more confused.

“I don’t I just-“

“No, not really,” she shrugged as she reapplied her lip liner. “He mostly just buys me shit and spoils me. What would I have to cry about? He’s a really good guy.”

Oh, you remembered that phase. Well, phases. The time after he’d slapped you during an argument immediately came to mind. Nathan could probably teach a seminar on love bombing, then making you feel guilty for having any negative feelings because of all the money he’d spent on you.

“That’s good,” you nodded, tossing the used wipe in the trash and making your way to the door. “Thanks for checking in on me and helping me. Have a good night.”

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asked as your hand hit the door.

“No,” you replied promptly, maybe slamming the door behind you a little too hard.

This was a lot to process, and a lot to take in. Despite having a fun time with Joel, you really just wanted to go home. Finding your way back out to him, you silently accepted back your drink and stood besides him stiffly.

“You okay?” he asked, gently grabbing your arm.

“Fine, just… just.. I have an upset stomach,” you explained. You were never a good liar, the concern in Joel’s eyes told you that you hadn’t suddenly become one.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said, rubbing your forearm gently. “Let’s go home, okay?”

You certainly didn’t protest as he began to lead you out of the bar, and you let out a sigh of relief at being able to leave before running into anyone else you knew.

Although, life was never that simple, was it?

As you approached the door, a familiar voice called out your name, sending a chill up your spine. Joel’s head whipped around from where it was coming from, and scowled when he saw who the voice belonged to. Ignoring him, the two of you continued your departure, a newfound urgency in both of your steps.

Once you were outside, you felt yourself puff out a sigh of relief. You’d managed to get out of the bar with only a brief conversation with Claire, and no direct interaction with Nathan. Now, if you could only get home, curl up with Joel on the couch, and tell him the absurd story of how you’d bumped into your ex’s new girlfriend in the bathroom.

But the universe clearly wasn’t letting you off the hook just yet.

“Hey!” Nathan called as he stepped out of the bar, Claire trailing just a few paces behind him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. Can’t even say hi to the father of your child.”

You were almost alarmed by the speed in which Joel marched over to your ex and reprimanded him. Not even wasting a moment, Joel shoved him back—a warning of sorts, with your knowledge that he was certainly holding himself back.

“Leave her the fuck alone,” he barked. It was like no tone you’d ever heard him use before, not when he was upset with anyone, and not even when he was yelling at a referee for a bad call.

“And who the fuck are you?” your ex shot back.

“Does it really matter?” Joel pressed, not backing down despite the slightly shorter man getting in his face. “You’re not gonna go around trying to degrade women.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna stop me, Mr. Nice guy?” Nathan pushed Joel, but your partner barely budged.

“You fuckin’ cuck,” Nathan muttered. “Why do you even care about this whore?”

Nathan took a second to think about it, glancing between the two of you before a light seemed to go off in his little brain.

“Oh, I know. You’re that guy from the soccer games. You two together now?" His condescension was almost jarring to hear, and part of you worried about what your clearly inebriated ex might say or do next. “I see you’re still the community cumrag,” he directed at you.

You hardly had a moment to process what was just said before Joel was swinging, clearly seeing red as he threw a hefty right hook at your ex, leaving a nasty crunching sound as he fell to the ground.

“Don’t talk about her, or any other fucking woman like that ever again,” he squatted down to his level, and grabbed both of his cheeks. “Leave her the fuck alone, you understand me? Or next time you’re gonna wish it was just your nose.”

Nathan cradled his bloody nose and whimpered and Joel walked back to you, the fury on his face melting into something apologetic as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he began, cautiously approaching you as if he was something to be afraid of. “I shouldn’t have done that. I overstepped-“

“Joel. Don’t apologize. Do you know how much that asshole deserved it? You did everyone a favor tonight, but especially me.”

You had never had someone defend you so literally before. Sure, your friends had argued with Nathan a few times on your behalf, but punching Nathan in the face had truly raised your expectations for anyone who claimed to be doing anything to help you. You don’t think you’d have felt this alive or cherished in years.

“Now let’s get you home and ice those knuckles.”

Four

You were usually a big fan of rainy days. The sound of rain pattering against the window or on the roof of your car, and the smell of petrichor on the pavement were sensations you wished you could experience all the time. But today, you weren’t quite so pleased to see the rain.

You’d taken the day off to spend it with Joel, who had specifically asked for you to take some time off to be with him. You couldn’t blame him, as you’d been slightly neglecting him after things picked up once again at work. You’d had a whole outdoorsy day planned, with a morning hike, a visit to a conservatory, and a picnic at one of your favorite local parks. Unfortunately, none of those activities could be done comfortably in the pouring rain.

Instead, you opted to come back to your place after you dropped your kids off at school, and have a domestic little day-in.

After putting some homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven, the two of you found yourselves on your couch, comfortably sitting together and reading your own books while the smell of warm cinnamon filled your house.

Occasionally, you glanced out your window, the scene of rain granting you a sense of serenity. At one point, you noticed Joel’s gaze out the window as well, and you couldn’t help but comment on it.

“Don’t you just love the rain?” you asked, setting your book down on your coffee table. It was more of an excuse to break the silence than an actual comment, but you said it regardless.

“It’s nice,” he agreed, his tone oddly somber for a comment on the rain.

“You okay, big guy?” you asked before moving closer to Joel.

“I’m alright,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There wasn’t any real concrete evidence that something was off, but something inside you told you that something definitely was off.

“You sure?” you asked, squeezing his bicep.

“Yeah, it’s just,” he paused, looking down at his book as if he was about to go right back to reading instead of telling you the issue. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke once more, “it’s the anniversary of Diane leaving.”

Oh. So that’s why he’d asked to be with you today.

You’d never heard Joel say her name before. Sure, you’d seen her name written under a polaroid or two, but you’d never heard Joel reference her ever. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really know what their deal was. Amicable exes? Divorcees? Was Joel a widower? You felt awful that you’d gone this far into a relationship and still didn’t know anything about his last significant one.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not completely sure how to react. You mainly wanted to get a gauge on Joel’s reaction–just how upset was he? Did he want to talk about it? Or just get the importance of the day out in the open?

“It’s just… Today feels like that day in a lot of ways.”

You nodded slowly, still not exactly sure of how to approach the situation. You thought back to all of the times he’d been there to support you when you were having a rough day, and ended up asking aloud, “is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Maybe just listening, if that’s okay. It helps to talk about it,” he paused. “The rolls smell done. I’ll go get them,” with that, he was off to the kitchen, barely giving you time to react, or even protest his departure.

He clearly wanted to talk, but just wasn’t completely ready to do so at that moment. You could listen. You could be the best damn listener on the planet if that was what Joel needed from you. No matter what he revealed to you today, you were determined to make Joel feel comfortable, and know that whatever he was going through, he wasn’t alone—just as he’d shown you in the past.

By the time he came back to the living room, Joel offered you a plate with an iced cinnamon roll and acted like everything was normal. He sat back down next to you, stole a bite from your plate, then buried his nose right back into his novel.

You respected his right to process his emotions in any way he saw fit. All you could do was be a good partner, and offer whatever he needed from you to feel better, like he’d done for you so many times before.

While you were fine with spending your day cuddled up on the sofa and reading, you were also aware that there were a good amount of house chores that were calling your name. Upon mentioning these tasks, Joel insisted on helping out, which was how you two landed in the laundry room, laughing at something stupid that had happened to you this week.

While you loaded light clothes into your washer, Joel suddenly caught you off guard with a question that was a far cry from the banter you’d just been having only moments before.

“Is it… are you okay with me talking about it?”

By it you could only assume he meant the giant elephant of a woman in the room.

“Of course,” you turned to him, offering sympathetic eyes.

“She left just a few months after Sarah was born,” Joel busied himself by pouring out laundry detergent and fabric softeners. “I just woke up one morning to an empty bed and a note in the kitchen saying she was leaving, she wasn’t coming back, and not to look for her.”

You were taken aback by the cruelty of such an abrupt ending, especially with such a young infant. You couldn’t imagine being put in those circumstances so unexpectedly.

Joel casually poured the respective liquids into their proper places in the machine, then turned it on. “It was a day just like this. The nursery had a nice, big window that we put a rocking chair in front of. Sarah liked looking at the stars when she was younger, it always helped to calm her down. I remember holding her in that chair and bawling my eyes out while she cried too, and with all the rain against the window… it felt like the Earth was crying right along with us.”

You weren’t sure what to say or how to react, but it seemed like Joel was prepared to move right on, quickly changing the subject as he led you out of the laundry room.

Baking cinnamon rolls had left a lot of dishes in the sink, but luckily for you, you had an extra set of hands to help you out. Joel was on rinsing duty, and you were on loading.

You quickly found your rhythm, as you often did with partnered tasks. You worked quietly while loading the dishes, letting the music from your speaker fill up the silence, but it was obvious Joel was lost in thought.

Eventually, he quietly began to speak again, “I kept trying to make sense of her leaving. I knew that postpartum depression hit her really hard, and that she was barely sleeping at night because of how often Sarah was crying. Sarah was a really sensitive, fussy baby. She’d told me how she’d felt a few times, and I always kinda thought things would just pass. Every new parent hits that roadbump where they just can’t see themselves doing this thing forever, right? Then, she just left. I thought maybe she just needed a few days away, and that she’d be back. But days went by, then weeks, then it had been a month, and it was still just Sarah and I.”

“Did she ever come back around?” you asked, setting down the last dish into the sink, then closing the machine.

“Never heard from her again.”

You closed the distance between you and the man, wrapping him in as tight of a hug that you could manage.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered into his shirt as he melted into your embrace. “I can’t even imagine how painful and stressful that was.”

As a mother, you couldn’t imagine abandoning your child; the tiny human being you spent nine months carrying, and would spend a lifetime loving. But as a human, you understood the stress of being the parent of a newborn. Waking up every few hours because your baby is crying and you’ve tried everything to get her to stop but she just… won’t. Paired with postpartum depression, which you were no stranger to, you could understand the circumstances that led Diane to feeling like she had no other option but to leave. But that didn’t, in any way, make it the right thing to do.

As you held Joel, a sound you hadn’t ever heard from him escaped his lips, wracking his body. A guttural cry that had clearly been trapped deep inside of him for the longest time had suddenly escaped as he recalled an event that had clearly changed his life.

You stood in the kitchen holding him for what felt like forever, when he finally pulled away, wiping his face a little bit.

“Thank you,” was all that he managed to get out.

You laid next to him in bed after a rather emotionally loaded session of lovemaking, trying to catch your breath as the two of you recovered from the underlying emotional and physical aftermath of your fornication. As Joel spooned you, a question lingered on your mind.

“Do you still love her?” you asked, keeping your eyes forward on the wall. You wanted to say you were sure he had moved on, but these types of situations were rather nuanced. There were just some bonds that regardless of time or circumstances, people continued to hold on to.

“No,” he answered clearly. “I don’t hate her, either. I guess I just understand her. But that doesn’t make what she put me or Sarah through any better.”

You slipped your hand down to where his were currently laying on your stomach, and you set one on top of his.

“I’m not jealous, I’m just curious. Do you ever miss her?”

“I used to,” he sighed, the close breath blowing some hairs on your neck. “I don’t anymore.”

Eventually, your laundry was dry, meaning you two needed to get out of bed and get to folding.

“She has a new family, now,” he said out of the blue, as he folded up a pair of your pajama pants. “Husband, kids, dog, the full nine yards. Tommy found her Facebook a few years ago, but I still haven’t looked. I don’t really know why.”

You didn’t really know why either, but you knew exactly the feeling he was experiencing. Seeing your ex who you’d invested so much into and had a child with move on with someone was a particularly gut wrenching feeling. You could only imagine how much worse it was in Joel’s scenario, where Diane had abandoned him and their child, yet had a child and built another family elsewhere.

“Does Sarah know?” you asked, putting a blouse onto a hanger.

“Bits and pieces. She kinda just accepted that her mom’s not in the picture, but doesn’t know why she left or anything about her mom’s new family,” Joel finished up with his basket, then began to help you with yours. “Maybe when she’s older. Old enough to understand that it isn’t her fault and that these things just… happen sometimes.”

“I guess,” you frowned as you grabbed your last article of clothing and hung it up. “It shouldn’t have happened, though. Neither of you deserved to be abandoned.”

“It was gonna happen one way or another,” Joel shrugged, putting your baskets away. “Our relationship had been on the rocks even before Diane became pregnant. If it wasn’t then, it would be later. I’m just glad it happened early enough that Sarah doesn’t remember. You in the mood for a coffee?”

His words gave you a bit of whiplash, but you accepted the offer of a warm drink regardless.

You sat at your table, stirring your drink as Joel sat down across from you.

“Good, right?” he asked. “I think I’ve officially nailed the way you like your coffee.”

“It’s pretty good,” you admitted, taking a sip from a mug that Chloe had decorated in her school’s art class.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good. It is one,” you hummed.

It was clear that his mood was slightly improving the more that he talked about his experience. You wondered just how much of this information he’d shared with anyone else before you, as he told the story as if he were confessing something for the first time ever.

“I’ve never told anyone this much about it,” he confessed. “I’m glad that of all the people I could’ve told, it ended up being you.”

“Joel, I,” the words popped into your head, but died on your tongue. “I care about you so much. I know this can’t be easy to talk about, so thank you for sharing this with me,” you squeezed his hands across the table.

“Thank you for being so supportive. I also care about you a lot. So much that it scares me. Especially knowing that you could lose everything in a literal night,” he admitted.

“Oh Joel,” you said softly. “I’m also scared. I’m always so scared that I’ll lose you and Sarah and this little blended family we’ve made. But if that’s the price I pay for… caring about you so much, I’m okay with being afraid.”

Joel looked at you like he had something to say, but instead sat there quietly for a moment, processing your words. “Do you want to watch an episode of The Bachelorette?”

“Is that even a question? C’mon,” you stood up.

The two of you cuddled up on the couch once again, this time with a much lighter feeling in the room, partially due to what Joel had confessed to you, and partially due to the absolutely ridiculous content playing on your television.

“I’m sad that I had to go through what I had to go through, but I’m glad that it led me to you,” Joel said out of the blue, resting his forehead against yours.

You were glad that he found you too.

Five

It wasn’t every day that the forces of the universe seemed to be on your side, but for some reason, today was one of those days.

When you’d been called into your boss’ office that morning, a pit formed in your stomach. You’d figured that the day you were going to be laid off was coming, especially following the whole promotion fiasco. As you walked into her office, you fully intended to be walking out without a job.

Except, that wasn’t what happened. You had been promoted, and promoted into a position even higher than the one you’d previously been gunning after.

Once you found out, you had to fight the urge to skip out of your boss’s office, singing and dancing with joy. Instead, you fought that urge by closing the door to your office, and calling Joel.

“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered casually.

“Joel, they promoted me! And it’s an even better position than what I was trying to get before!” you squealed.

Joel cheered from over the phone, making you somehow smile even harder. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. I can’t think of anyone who deserves this more than you.”

“Oh my god, stop it,” you giggled, putting your hands up to your warm cheeks.

“No, I’m serious,” Joel countered. “I know a lot of hard workers, and none of them work as hard as you. You’ve sacrificed so much to get here and it’s finally paid off.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you had more to say, but you decided to keep it to yourself. Mainly, how did you get so lucky to end up with a man like him?

“Are you busy tonight?” he asked.

“I’m just dropping Chloe off at my mom’s, then I should be free for the evening. Why?”

“Why don’t you come over to my place so we can celebrate? You picked the right time to get a promotion. Sarah’s going to her uncle’s for the weekend.”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed. “I’ll text you when I’m heading over.”

“Alright. Again, congratulations! So proud.”

You hung up and attempted to get back to work, but you were far too excited to focus for too long. You somehow made it to the end of the work day and to Joel’s house without spontaneously combusting from joy.

When you walked in, you were immediately met with the smells of one of your favorite candles, mixed with the mouthwatering scent of fragrant coming from the kitchen.

“Joel, I’m home!” you announced, making your way to the kitchen only to find it very dressed up. The lights were dimmed, a crisp white table cloth rested on the table, and a gorgeous arrangement of flowers sat in a vase in the middle of the table, right next to a rather nice looking bottle of champagne.

Joel was finishing up plating something spectacular as you came in. “Please, have a seat,” he directed. You didn’t need to be told twice.

With the arrangement of the table, you almost felt like you were sitting at a fancy little restaurant, but better, knowing all the effort Joel had put into making the table look this way. He brought over two plates, set one over at his seat and one in front of you, before leaning down and kissing you gently.

“Congratulations. I am so, so, so proud of you,” he said after finally pulling away, reaching for the bottle of champagne on the table.

“If anyone in the world deserves good things,” he turned away from you so that he could safely pop the bottle. “It’s you. I’m glad you’re finally getting the recognition that you deserve.”

With the bottle opened, he poured you out a glass, then poured himself some. You lifted up your glass and Joel mirrored you.

“Cheers,” you said with a grin, tapping your glasses together, then taking a sip. Once you finished drinking, Joel leaned in for one more kiss before he situated himself back into his chair.

“I think you deserve a promotion from best boyfriend in the world to best boyfriend in the universe,” you softly laughed, looking down at your plate.

“Do I? I think anyone would celebrate the person they…” he paused for just a split second, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t paying such close attention. “The person they’re sharing their life with if they made a big accomplishment like this.”

“Honey, you’d be very surprised. I can think of at least one person who would view this promotion as a bad thing.”

“Well, don’t think about them right now. This is an amazing thing, and we’re celebrating you today. Not an insecure man with a Napoleon complex and a small penis.”

You laughed out loud, nearly choking on a bubbly sip of champagne.

“You’re right,” you picked up your fork and knife, reading to dig into the amazing looking meal in front of you. “Thank you for this, Joel. You always make me feel so appreciated and cherished. You’re truly one of a kind.”

He shook his head bashfully at the compliment, eating right along with you. It was almost cute how he never seemed to accept compliments, but certainly deserved them more than basically any other person that you knew.

“You always show me how much you care about me. It’s only fair that I do the same.”

“You’re so romantic,” you sighed. “How can I guarantee that I can keep you around forever?”

“Just keep being you, I guess. That’s all I’ve really ever wanted.”

How did you get so lucky? How did you manage to hit the jackpot on men with Joel, almost let it slip through your fingers not once, but twice, and still managed to end up with one of your favorite people in the world?

However it ended up happening, you certainly weren’t mad at it, and as you sat together, you hoped for things never to change.

Plus One

Given that you practically lived at each other’s homes now, you often spent your mornings together getting ready to take on the day. It was cute how you both had your own little routines and were able to coexist in a tiny little space.

Today, you stood in Joel’s bathroom, washing your face as the mirror across from you began to become progressively more foggy from the heat of Joel’s shower.

“My hair is gonna be so frizzy,” you muttered to yourself as you rubbed moisturizer into your skin.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come in here with me,” Joel shot back from the shower, turning the water off.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, getting back to work on your face as Joel dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist.

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy in the morning,” he commented as he approached you, standing next to you at the sink.

“I am not grumpy,” you argued, then paused once Joel gave you a very disbelieving expression. “Fine. I can get a little irritable in the morning. Especially when someone’s boiling hot showers make my hair get all frizzy.”

“I wonder who that someone is?” Joel looked around the room in faux confusion.

“Ugh, shut up. You are such a dad,” you fought back laughter, but you couldn’t really help the smile that appeared on your lips.

“Shutting up,” Joel acknowledged, grabbing his razor and some shaving cream to touch up some of his facial hair. You began to brush your teeth, focusing on yourself in the mirror to make sure that you were making your dentist proud.

Your eyes eventually migrated and were meeting Joel’s in the mirror. You flashed him a big, foamy grin, and he immediately broke into hysterics, setting the razor down so he didn’t cut himself while laughing so hard.

“Really?” he asked between laughs. “While I’m shaving?”

“Sorry,” you shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk.

“You are such a dork,” Joel sighed as he calmed himself down, leaning against the counter as he began to work on shaving his face once more. “Ugh, I love you,” the words seemed to come out of his mouth involuntarily, if the horrified look on his face told you anything.

It seemed like the whole house stopped after Joel said it, the dripping from the showerhead ceasing, the faint buzz of the air conditioner nowhere to be found, and the noises of your children downstairs coming to a halt.

You were shocked at the admission, and Joel seemed to be shocked that he’d said anything.

Now that he’d mentioned it, you really did love Joel. You loved how he supported you, and how he treated your daughter like she was his own. You loved that he wasn’t afraid to fight for what he believed in, especially when that included socking your ex in the face. You loved his ability to be vulnerable with you, and the way that he seemed to always know what to say at the right time. You loved knowing that no matter how shitty of a day you’d had, Joel would always be there, ready to order your favorite foods and spoon you while decompressing with the worst, most trashy reality TV you could find.

You’d spent all this time thinking that you’d never experience romantic love again, that romantic love was tumultuous and exhausting, when you’d been in love with Joel the whole time.

You were one of those people who were meant to love and be loved. Joel had proven that much to you.

“I love you too,” you confessed, toothpaste still obstructing your mouth.

Maybe love wasn't so bad after all.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #soccer parents au

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eclec-tech · 9 months ago

Text

"The Turn"

I had a thought about this handsome fellow, and it manifested itself in the form of a little ficlet...

Crosshair's eyes narrowed at the screen as five bright blips suddenly appeared exactly where he was hoping they wouldn't. "There's a squad on our tail, closing fast."

Omega turned with the authority of a commander. "Get to the tail gun. I'll get us out of here."

"You're sure?" One of them had to fly and one of them had to shoot. He wasn't at all happy with their chances knowing that she would have to be responsible for one of those.

"Tech taught me! GO!"

That was unexpectedly comforting news. Crosshair nodded and bolted for the rear of the ship, leaving Omega to hopefully do Tech proud as pilot. She did. She climbed and dove, weaving through the terrain as if Tech himself were guiding her hands.

An angry beeping broke her concentration. "The lead ship's targeting our engines! Crosshair, what do I do?"

Crosshair raced back to the cockpit. "Omega, turn sharp, zero thrusters NOW!"

Omega instantly realized her brother's plan. She turned the ship and cut the engines, then immediately reengaged the thrusters--the "Tech Turn". Crosshair almost instantly removed four of their pursuers from the equation. The pilot of the lead ship however, performed the exact same maneuver the moment Omega had begun her own turn, and was now careening skyward in an attempt to once again get behind the shuttle that now had no gunner in position.

Crosshair's blood ran cold. He knew of only one person who could fly like that, and according to a recent conversation with a very tearful Omega, he couldn't possibly be here. Yet here he was.

"Omega, we have a very big problem."

#speculative ficlet #the bad batch #bad batch fanfic #tech lives #crosshair tbb #omega tbb #tech tbb #imperial tech #cx-2 #clone x #the tech turn #bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #bad batch season 3 #amberowl24

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syntheticavenger · 4 months ago

Text

jungle

might delete this, who knows.

rock star! carol danvers x rock star! female reader

producer! steve rogers x rock star! female reader

word count: 1.5K

warnings: 18+, language, world building, mentions of alcoholism.

summary | unceremoniously kicked out of your band, a chance meeting with a producer could turn your luck around or have you even worse than where you ended up.

Calloused fingers strum your guitar aimlessly, holed up in your paid-up hotel room in the city for the rest of the week. It’s an affront to your senses to have a garden view but on such short notice, there’s not much Katia can do with the short notice of you leaving the band.

Leaving.

Unceremoniously thrown out was still leaving, you think, gritting your teeth at the thought. Your phone buzzes below your bare feet, hands shaking from the alcohol withdrawal. The hard knock on the door is ignored, blowing out a hard breath before the door opens, Katia looking around the room. She’s barely a blip on your radar, hearing her mutter to herself, the tinny sound of bottles and cans clinking together as she makes a path.

“You can’t wallow forever,” she orders.

You strum another note, Katia huffing in reply.

“Apologize. It’s not too late, you know.”

“Apologize? For what?” you snap, lifting your head up quickly, the room spinning slightly, squeezing your eyes shut. “For Carol to sneer and tell me to go fuck myself? Answer me this, Is she still holed up in a room with Maria?”

Silence makes you angrier, pushing your guitar away, getting to your feet, your balance wobbly under the amount of clothes beneath your feet.

“It’s just a blow up. All bands deal with it.”

You’d show them. A million lyrics in your brain that were just waiting to come out and you didn’t need Carol – or the others for that matter – getting in your way again.

A wave of nausea hits, bolting toward the bathroom before you slam it in Katia’s face. Everything spills over: the overconsumption from the day and night prior, your tears of anger and hurt and whatever is left that burns a hole in your gut.

“I got kicked out, remember?!” you shout behind the door. “I’m done!”

“We can fix this.” Katia’s voice is soft, soothing as you slump down on the ground. “Let’s get you some help. Professional help who can deal with this. Let them see that you’re making a change and they’ll come around.”

Katia’s pounding on the door fades as you close your eyes and surrender to the darkness.

“Another packed show, you guys,” Katia informs the group. “Sold out crowd again.”

Carol finishes her drink, an assistant coming to take it away as a makeup artist hovers to check her heavy eyeshadow. It’s the final touch ups, the band clad in black leather and t-shirts, Carol’s sky high stilettos waiting to be placed on her feet.

“We’re not doing Alone, Wrecked or Fearless tonight,” Carol announces, Natasha groaning in irritation as she lounges on the couch.

“Again?”

“Do you have the range for Fearless?” Carol shoots back, Maria rolling her eyes at her question. “Didn’t think so. None of us do.”

“So, we’re staying away from the songs that she wrote for us. Why not just say that?” Wanda counters, pointing her drumsticks in Carol’s direction. “We’ve done four shows since she’s been out, and we dance around this topic every time. Just say it.”

“Fine,” Carol snaps. “We’re not doing those songs. Happy?”

“No,” Natasha replies, sitting up quickly. “You wanted her out so bad and now you’re still acting like she’s here, dancing around whatever feelings you think she would have. Newsflash, she’s out of the Marvels, we’ve been making it without her just fine. I say we play the fucking songs.”

“She can’t do much from rehab, anyway,” Maria mutters, Carol looking at her in surprise.

“She’s in rehab?”

Katia clears her throat, tapping her watch.

“You’re out in less than five,” she reminds them, looking at the four of them. “And to answer your question, yes, she’s in rehab. You wanted her out of the band, she’s out. Why there is any more arguments after you all got what you wanted is beyond me. Now go out there and be a band.”

They sit quietly, Maria nodding before she walks out, Natasha following suit as Wanda and Carol stay behind.

“Didn’t think she’d go to rehab,” Carol says quietly, slipping on her shoes.

“It was her final strike,” Wanda says quietly, looking at her phone. “The article just popped up.”

Carol goes silent, the crowd getting louder.

“You said it yourself she was getting out of control,” Wanda says, placing a hand on Carol’s shoulder. “It was a vote, remember? Don’t feel bad for wanting better for this band. Don’t feel bad for wanting to have some peace.”

“Hey.”

You hold the phone against your ear, playing with the hem of your shirt, unsure of what to say in response. You aren’t even sure how she got the number. You’d been clear with Katia you wanted to be left alone and she had agreed.

“You there?”

“What do you want, Carol?” you ask, refusing to hide your irritation.

“I was checking on you.”

“Three meals a day, talking about my feelings with the same like-minded people. We’re having a grand old time.”

“I think it’s admirable that you’re getting help.”

“Oh?” you ask sarcastically, looking at your socked feet. “How’s the tour?”

“It’s going good, yeah. One last stop before we head out on the European leg so…”

“Great.”

“I’m trying,” Carol sighs, her voice fading out for a moment. “You didn’t leave me much choice.”

“Oh okay,” you scoff. “I didn’t give you much choice but to have the band block my dressing room? To have security walk me out? That’s trying, Carol? I’d hate to see your half assed effort.”

“I was upset! You were being uncontrollable. The mood swings, the pointing fingers and -”

“Okay, Carol. You win. Is that what you want to hear? Did you fuck Maria after I had left? I’m sure you did.”

“It was a one-night thing.”

You laugh before slamming the phone back down.

“One night,” you mutter, looking over at your counselor whose eyes are wide in surprise. “I don’t want to take anymore phone calls and I don’t want to talk about it.”

When you storm off, the phone rings again, the counselor quietly unplugging it from the wall.

“Someone to see you,” one of the orderlies tells you.

You ignore it, looking over at your guitar case in the corner.

More shows added, more shows sold out and your name mentioned as a joke on late night TV. It’s gotten old and it’s barely been two weeks.

Substance abuse side, there isn’t many people looking for you, save for a few podcasters and fans who want to get a soundbite or autograph and you haven’t been in the mood for either.

At the sound of your name, you still don’t move, the door closing that makes you look over your shoulder.

Who it is makes you sit up.

Slicked back dirty blond hair, a fresh cut beard and a pair of slacks and shirt that hugs every slope of his figure, Steve Rogers doesn’t make house calls.

“Heard you were here,” he says, sitting down in a chair as he looks around your room. “Couldn’t you get you a better room?”

“I took what was offered. The alternate wasn’t great.”

“Yeah, you’re shit with money,” Steve agrees with a grin. “How’s the voice?”

“Fine.”

“The guitar in the corner. Does it get much play?”

“Sometimes.”

He leans forward, his hands steepled as he nods.

“Listen. I know all about the fall from grace. Talk about kicking you while you’re down.”

“Is that why you’re here?” you ask.

You’ve never been good with small talk and you aren’t going to try now, even if a big time producer like Steve is in front of you.

“Well, I have a proposition for you.”

You wait for him to finish, Steve pulling out his phone, tapping in some numbers.

“You record an EP for me, five songs, max and I’ll give you this.”

He hands you the phone, the numbers on the screen making you swallow hard.

“That’s with me taking out the debts you owe, the attorney fees for getting your name out of the contracts you’re currently in, hair and make-up, this rehab stay and a place to live.”

“What’s the catch?”

He laughs, winking at you.

“Nothing gets past you. I can understand. You’re looking out for yourself. The catch is that if the EP sells well, you sign with me. That’s it. A few records and we go from there. Sound good?”

“Feels a little weird with you asking me when I’m trying to get better, don’t you think?”

“Weird or opportunistic? Ask yourself this,” Steve says, standing up as he looks around the small room. “Do you have a plan when this is over?”

He walks toward the door, reaching for the handle.

“I’ll let you know.”

He holds onto the handle for a moment.

“I’m a commitment sort. I’ll need a little more assurance.”

The handle turns and you rush out the words.

“I’ll do it.”

#rock star au #carol danvers #carol danvers x you #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x female reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader

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thescarletnargacuga · 2 months ago

Note

Could you write a time capsule au fic? Maybe one where it’s after Caine and Pomni become a couple but Pomni is looking for a way out while Caine keeps trying to hide it from her?

NO MAN'S LAND

A TIME CAPSULE AU SHOWTIME ONESHOT

AU credit @mangotangerinepastry @the-amazing-digital-time-capsule

WARNING: hurt/comfort, angst, body horror/abstractions, blood

~~~

Pomni hid against the corner wall, peeking every so slightly to watch the guests wandering the circus between shows. Someone had to be leaving. Surely someone had somewhere else to be. Her focused eyes widened when he saw a guest snap. A bright red door appeared out of thin air. The guest opened the door and stepped through.

Pomni seized her opportunity. She bolted for the door as it started to close and dove through the threshold. For a moment, there was light. Hope of escape.

Error. Connection not found.

A jolt sent Pomni spiraling through digital space. She was cast into darkness and splashed down in some unknown viscus fluid. Discombobulated, Pomni fought to find the surface until she smacked her knees on the hard ground. She gasped for air and coughed as she shakily stood.

The sloshing black fluid echoed through a long narrow corridor that curved off in the distance. Soaked and scared, Pomni saw no option other than to walk. The fluid up to her knees, she slowly moved forward.

Caine nodded his head in greeting to a passing guest. Pomni's next show was coming up and he hadn't seen her backstage. He scanned the lobby and even outside the circus main entrance but...no Pomni. He was concerned about what BUBLE would do to her if she refused to perform. He needed to find her soon. "Zooble. Can I borrow you a moment?"

Zooble stopped their work on a broken hallway light and climbed down the ladder. "Yeah, what is it?"

"I can't find Pomni. I need to use your radar." Caine said matter-of-factly, but with an apologetic look in his eye.

"Whatever." Zooble activated the radar on their torso and watched the blips representing the cast show up on screen.

Pomni shivered from the cold blackness soaking her clothes and numbing her legs. "Where the hell am I??" The corridor was solid concrete with cracks along the top of the walls where faint light would shine through. Every few dozen feet, she would come across a joining tunnel but it was gated off. More black fluid slowly flowed in from these tunnels.

A skittering noise from behind her made her gasp. She spun around and searched the shadowy corridor for movement. "Hello..? Anyone there?" Whatever trouble she would be in for being here was worth paying to get out. "Hello!?"

A horrific screech answered her call. Something big and fast was climbing the walls and closing in. She caught glimpses of the insect-like legs as it passed over the lit cracks. The black creature was covered in multicolored glowing spots that took up half of the space in the corridor. Its movements were unnatural and jittery like a glitching avatar.

Pomni took a few steps back as her mind tried to process what was happening. Then adrenaline kicked in and she ran as fast as the knee deep fluid would let her.

Caine's eyes darted from one blip to the next, not seeing Pomni anywhere in the vicinity of the circus. "Can you zoom out? I'd hate to think she went outside without an escort."

Zooble broadened the scan to include the other structures within the time capsule, now showing everyone but Pomni. "Oh....you don't think..?"

"No." Caine didn't even want to think of the possibility that Pomni had abstracted somewhere and hadn't been found yet. "Zoom out entirely. Scan everything."

"Dude. If she's not showing up inside the capsule-"

"Just do it." Caine said more harshly than he intended but he was starting to panic. "Please."

Zooble increased the scan all the way to the edges of the capsule. A solitary blip was out of bounds and moving quickly around the outside edge.

Caine's stomach twisted. "Oh god, she tried to- [%$!#]!!" He flexed his fingers, tugging on the red strings that connect him to BUBLE. By silent will, he summoned the power of the controlling AI. The digital possession climbed his arm and spread across his body, static tingling his skin.

Zooble stepped back. They had rarely witnessed Caine use the AI willingly.

Pomni could hear the creature closing in. The noise of the chase drew more attention. Monstrous screams and deafening roars surrounded her. She slipped on the slick floor, going face first into the black fluid. She spat and gasped as she tried to get back up, but something ahead blocked her path.

A creature with two heads and too many mouths drooled into the black fluid. It's body split open, breaking inky black skin and glitching. Pomni looked back to see the spindly body of the pursuer almost upon her. She had nowhere to run.

A sharp pain from behind. Pomni stopped breathing. She looked down to see a barbed fleshy spear sticking out of her shoulder. As she reached for it in shock, the tongue of the creature with two heads retracted, pulling Pomni towards it.

Everything was in slow motion. This was how she was going to die, consumed by some flesh beast alone in the dark. Without memory, her own life didn't even flash before her eyes.

But she saw Caine.

He appeared, grabbed onto her and then the most searing pain imaginable destroyed her body. Was this what it was like to die?

In the blink of an eye, she whole again. Red and yellow banners and soothing music surrounded her. There was no screaming. No monsters. No black fluid. But she was still in incredible pain and soaking wet. Her body convulsed and she collapsed.

"Pomni!" Caine kneeled to the backstage floor, keeping her from dropping like dead weight, but he almost dropped her when he felt the painfully familiar sensation of abstraction. "Pomni!?" He gasped when he saw the gaping wound on the right side of Pomni's chest. Blue and red blood pooled around her twitching body, her eyes rolled back. The wound itself festered quickly and black lines crawled across her skin.

"Pomni, I need you to listen to me. You're abstracting. I know it's overwhelming, but you can't let it consume you." Caine pleaded with her as calmly as he could, keeping himself clear of her infected body. "I know you can fight this. You're one of the strongest people I've met. Your stubbornness gives mine a run for its money."

Caine watched the wound. It contiued to spread as Pomni's avatar was slowly breaking. He balled his fists, praying he wouldn't have to send her back. "Please, Pomni. I know you can do this." He urged. "Fight."

The black lines stopped. Caine's eyes went wide. "Yes! Atta girl! Fight!"

Pomni's body gradually calmed, twitching less and less. Her eyes came forward but remained unfocused. She coughed blood, gasping for air. The crawling blackness slowly retreated into the open wound, her skin pulling itself back together. "Caine..?" She said weakly.

"I'm here." Caine took her hand, considering her safe for the moment. "Don't let up. Keep pushing back until it hides. You'll know what I mean when you feel it." He wiped the blood from her face with his own hand. He watched the abstraction infection disappear inside Pomni, leaving the fresh wound clear of blackness.

Caine sighed heavily with relief. The worst was over. He checked her injury. It was a few inches around and burrowed a hole clean through her body, he could see the floor beneath. It was in a relatively lucky spot, top right corner of her chest just below her clavicle. However, it would be impossible to heal with just stitches.

"BUBLE." Caine grimaced, loathing having to talk to her wretched AI.

"Yes, Caine?" BUBLE answered robotically in Caine's mind.

"Pomni's shoulder needs repairing."

"I can see that."

"....so do it!" Caine demanded.

"I need a valid reason to authorize avatar repair."

Caine swore under his breath. Protocol. "Because she can't perform with a broken shoulder you digital jagoff!" He growled, losing his cool.

BUBLE computed for a second. The show must go on. Guests must be entertained. "Authorized. However, she broke protocol by leaving the circus during on duty hours. This behavior must be corrected."

"The pain of being put back together will be punishment enough." Caine said quickly, he didn't want BUBLE to do anything worse than what Pomni just experienced.

"This is acceptable. Do not let her miss her next performance."

Caine checked his watch. He had five minutes. "This just keeps getting better." He said sarcastically. "Pomni? Pomni, focus on me."

Pomni blinked. "Caine...I saw monsters."

"I know. I'm going to fix you, but it's going to hurt. Try not to move." He kept hold of her hand and placed his free hand over the wound. He pressed his finger tips into the skin surrounding the hole and the red strings entered her avatar's flesh.

Pomni sucked air in through her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't see the strings but she could feel them moving through her shoulder. They burned a trail around the wound, jumping across the gap and pulling her avatar together.

The white hot pain of BUBLE repairing part of her body was almost enough to make Pomni scream. She bit down on her tongue, drawing blood and struggled not to move. Her body shook from the pain.

"Just a few more seconds." Caine's gut twisted seeing Pomni in such agony, but it was better than the alternative. She was crushing his hand, but he didn't care if she broke it. Whatever it took to get her through this.

Finally, the repair was complete and the strings left Pomni's body. She groaned loudly and relaxed as she caught her breath. Tears flowed down the sides of her head, mixing with the coagulating multicolor blood.

There was no way in high hell Pomni was performing in her current state. Caine needed to make a last minute change to the show schedule. "Pomni, wait here. I will be right back." He ran through backstage and found Gangle. "I need you to take over for Pomni. There's been an emergency."

"uh-"

"Thank you, you're on in one minute. I'll be back soon." Caine rushed away, leaving Gangle dumbstruck.

"You are changing the performance mid show." BUBLE's voice spoke clearly in Caine's head. "You are aware of the consequences if it is not received well by our guests."

"I've dealt with you long enough to know." Caine responded coldly. "Now get out of my head."

"I'm sorry, Caine, I'm afraid I can't do that. The failed performer must be evaluated for my report."

Caine sneered but didn't respond. He found Pomni sitting on a crate, dripping lightly with black water. "How are you holding up?"

"My shoulder doesn't hurt anymore." Pomni was still shivering lightly, staring off into the distance. "Where was I?"

Caine could still feel BUBLE's presence. "I'm afraid I can't answer that here. Get yourself cleaned up. Don't worry about the remainder of your performances. Gangle and I have it covered."

Pomni nodded and went off to her dressing room, holding herself and head hung low.

"She seems fine to continue." BUBLE buzzed in Caine's head. "If your changes fail-"

"I know the consequences. Shut. Up." Caine hissed, hoping Pomni didn't hear him. He wiped the dried blood off his hands and rushed back to Gangle to help her cover Pomni for the rest of the day.

Pomni showered, changed and didn't leave her room the rest of the day. She sat at her vanity, staring at herself in the mirror when a soft knock came to her door. "It's open." She said flatly, knowing who it was.

Caine entered and closed the door behind him. He stood straight with his hands behind his back, a neutral expression. "How are you doing?"

Pomni cranes her neck to stare blankly at him. "I was almost eaten alive by horrors beyond my comprehension. What do you think?"

"So, good then. Great to hear."

Pomni was caught off guard by the oddly neutral tone snarky response, breaking her out of her spiral of reliving the day's experience over and over. "Uh...what-"

"As long as you've learned not to try that again."

"It was worth a try." Pomni sneered and turned away from him.

"Was it? You could've died." Caine leaned against the wall next to her vanity, looking at the back of her head.

"Do you want me to say I'm sorry?? Because I'm not!" Pomni responded angrily.

"No. I want you to understand something. There is no way out of here. I've tried. Multiple times. And to answer your question from earlier, you went where we send people when they abstract. No Man's Land."

Pomni slowly turned back around. "Abstractions...those were people?"

"Once upon a time."

"Oh god..."

"Don't think about it. Literally. It makes it worse."

"But I have been. Especially about seeing you down there. How did you..?"

Caine looked down and away, shifting his stance. "I... teleported."

"...you can do that?"

"Sometimes. It hurts like a mother, so I only do it when I have to."

Pomni felt a pang of guilt. "I- I see. I thought I was going insane, but...you saved me."

"Technically, you were-"

"Thank you."

Caine's brain stalled. "Uh, you're welcome. I mean, it's my job as ringmaster to keep things running and-"

"The show could've gone on without me." Pomni interrupted again. "It almost did. You didn't have to put yourself at risk like that. That was rather heroic of you."

Caine's neck went red. He fidgeted with his hands as he searched for words. "I was just..." He sighed. "No one deserves to die like that. I would've done it for anyone here."

"Including Jax?" Pomni asked with a small upturn on her lips.

"Almost anyone." Caine responded with a small smile of his own.

"Nonetheless, thank you for saving me. Twice."

"Twice?" Caine raised a brow.

Pomni looked away this time. "After you brought me back, I could feel myself slipping into some deep dark pit in my head, but I heard you. I...followed your voice. I climbed out."

Caine's gaze softened. "I'm glad you did. Not many would have been able to do that. With or without me. You're incredibly strong."

Pomni's heart fluttered, suddenly very aware of his eyes on her. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without you."

"Happy to be of service. I have to ask, will you be okay to perform tomorrow?"

"Yeah. And tell BUBLE he can go [%$!#] himself." Pomni crossed her arms, looking back at Caine.

Caine snorted. "Gladly. Wait- how did you know BUBLE was involved?"

"You really think I can't hear you when you talk to yourself?" Pomni smirked.

Caine opened his mouth, but had no response.

Pomni chuckled. "Thank you again, for everything."

Caine's smile reached his eyes. "You're welcome, again. Have a good night, Pomni."

"Good night, Caine." Pomni returned his sincere smile.

Caine kept his eyes locked with Pomni's, almost fumbling the door knob, but left without embarrassing himself. His body jolted with surprise, seeing Gangle in the hallway.

"Took you long enough, I wanna go to bed. I did a FEW extra performances today." She said, rightfully annoyed.

"It was an emergency. You know what would happen if no one went on."

"Yeah. Yeah. I don't have to like it." Gangle pouted and put her hand on the doorknob. "...is she okay, though?"

"She's one tough broad. I'll give her that." Caine looked longingly at the door.

"Huh, high praise, coming from you." Gangle gave him a look. "You fancy her. Don't you?"

Caine glanced quickly at Gangle and then away. "Good night, Gangle" He started walking away.

"Run away all you want, but I can STILL SEE HOW RED YOUR NECK IS!" Gangle shouted after him with a mischievous grin.

Caine popped his collar higher and kept walking.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc caine #tadc fanfiction #tadc pomni #tadc showtime #tadc gangle #time capsule #time capsule au #tadc time capsule #tadc au #the amazing digital time capsule #angst #tw blood #tw body horror #hurt/comfort

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aylish91 · 2 years ago

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Just wanted to say i rlly love the way you write leviathan nightmare sans, i keep going back to reread ur writing about him 😍

Thank you so much Anon!!! This really means a lot to me! Sorry it took me so long to respond. I had a blip in the works I finished just for you! It might be a bit rough though, haha.

There's been intrigued Nightmare and supportive Nightmare. But now we have:

A Protective Nightmare!

TW for very brief mentions of someone being trapped/strapped down.

~ ~ ~

The ocean was becoming more restless, waves crashing hard against the sides of the Ship. You could faintly hear their raging through the hanger’s door. It caused your water to slosh in your tank as you lay on the bottom.

Tired.

You stared across the walkway into Cross’s tank, understanding now the reason for several of his scars. You wanted to weep. He had been forced on his back, almost completely paralyzed while they transported the both of you. Straps held him in place so he couldn’t turn over, sockets void but aware.

So terribly aware.

You shouldn’t have gone out so far on your own. You shouldn’t have gotten so close to the lagoon. You definitely shouldn’t have ignored Cross when he eventually found you. You didn’t understand the danger.

He knew better...

Things shifted as the boat tipped dangerously to the side. Soon after, alarms blared from behind reflective glass when a deep and angry vibration cut through the ship and the water of your tank.

You lifted your head as much as you could, hope building within your chest. Cross twitched, faint eyelights reigniting to peer down at the large metal door. You both ignored the shouts that could be heard through the walls.

The vibration came again, stronger and louder until the boat was slammed with a great force. Machinery and tools flew from their spots. You could feel when the vessel lifted, anything not bolted down rolling and tumbling with a crash.

Water spilled from both tanks to follow the carnage. However, you could finally hear the words rising from the thundering snarled vibrations.

“You dare to take what belongs to me!! Dare touch what is mine!” Everything jostled, metal folding under pressure. “For your insolence, you shall all face OBLIVION!!!

You had to cover your ears from all the noise and chaos around you. Metal tore from blackened claws, bent and broke from massive tentacles. The heavy metal door into your prison was ripped away, revealing Nightmare’s constricted eyelight. Rushing water followed.

As movement slowed, you gave a weakened cry of joy at the sight of the boys hastily entering around tightening tentacles. Horror was quick to break both tanks, Killer and Dust releasing Cross to drag him back into open water. Horror carried you out, dodging Nightmare's clawed hand when it rent metal. Your last wakeful moments were of the sinking ship being pulled down into the darkness by a raging leviathan.

~ ~ ~

It was warm and heavy when you woke, a soothing thrum trying to pull you back. If it wasn’t for the subtle shifting around you, you would have. Curling into yourself, you carefully stretched in preparation for waking.

The world around you constricted, quiet words reaching through your haze.

“My Pearl. I had thought I’d lost you. My light… My treasure.”

Your soul leapt for joy, eyes opening to the one you had waited for. The one you had hoped for, voice breaking.

“Nightmare!”

Unfurling from your living cocoon you allowed the guardian to cup you in his hands, clutching you to his chest. For the first time, his stoic face distorted from emotion as he whispered your name. Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes, as you finally allowed yourself to let go, curling and pressing into his warmth.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, to, and Cross!”

Nightmare held you tighter, safe from all the terrors around you. “Shhhh. All is well. You both are home now. Just, stay with me. I will keep you safe.”

You clung tighter. “Please. Don’t let go.”

He sank down into his own tentacles, barricading you from the outside. “Never… Not again…”

Leviathan Master List Grand Master Post

#ask #my writing #leviathantale #leviathan nightmare sans #leviathan x reader #nightmare sans x reader #x reader #bad sanses #undertale #undertale fanfic #undertale au #You guys are all amazing!!!#Don't worry #more fluff to come soon!#; )

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blackkat15 · 17 days ago

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I JUST GOT FOLLOWED BACK ON BLUESKY FROM ONE OF MY FAVOURITE VOICE ACTORS 😭

#kat says stuff #terry mcgurrin #terry they could never make me hate you #bolts and blip #bolts & blip #total drama island

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rogersideup · 1 year ago

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Nice to be kneaded

Chapter 17

Endgame

Series masterlist

Previous Part: Crawl Home to You Next Part: Good Luck Charm

Word Count: 7,236

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions of medical equipment, loss, abuse, PTSD, anxiety and depression.

Last night, you had cried yourself into such a deep sleep that a linear existence wasn't even a concept to your subconscious. It was the first time in weeks it felt like your mind had a moment to sit in silence without overthinking or anxiety poking at it's need for peace.

Steve knew you needed your sleep, and waking you up just to let you know they were about to snap the nano-gauntlet felt like all he would be doing was worrying you. So he sent you a quick text saying he loved you and decided that would be enough to allow you to keep the rest you deserved.

It worked, because you woke up to the sound of a deep, grumbling boom. Like thunder overhead, yet there was not even a cloud in the sky to indicate a storm would be happening.

When you sleep filled brain snapped awake, and immediately remembered the day the blip happened, the sound of rumbling immediately brought tears to your eyes and sprung you to your feet.

They did it.

You wanted to shout your joy from the rooftops, jump up and down with overflowing happiness, run through the streets to reconnect with all of the people you've missed for five whole years.

Then the tears started flowing, so prideful of Steve, and in complete awe that he had contributed to saving the world once more.

The phone on your nightstand started ringing and buzzing like crazy, calls and texts coming through from friends and family alike. Complete disbelief took over.

Between your two fingers, your squeezed your sunflower once just to see if you could get through to Steve and make sure he was okay.

Seeing your sunflower illuminate with one long, golden glow had you smiling from ear to ear as more tears fell down your cheeks. He was okay.

Completely disregarding the fact that you were in sweatpants and a tank top, you threw your messy hair up into a ponytail and quickly slipped a pair of sneakers on your feet before bolting through your bedroom and running down the staircase into the living room.

Just as you were unlocking the front door to run outside and take in the new state of the world, the breath was stolen from your lungs and you no longer felt like rejoicing.

The golden light of your sunflower caught your eye once more, and you counted four glows.

Emergency.

You stopped in place, hoping that your eyes had deceived you. Hoping for the best, you squeezed it back three times hoping you'd get three back. Maybe he tried to say he loved you and accidentally pressed it once more.

He received your message, and sent his again.

It illuminated four times. Emergency.

There was a small pause before he sent three, I love you.

That was all the confirmation you needed to know that he was trying to tell you something bad had happened. You could feel it in your gut that it wasn't going to end well, but for some reason, you still needed to go outside.

The second the sun hit your eyes it felt blinding, and much like the day half the population disappeared, the neighborhood was pouring out into the streets. People hugging and reconnecting outside, some we're confused, some were overly aware. Reunions were bitter sweet, so happy to be together again, yet so incredibly sad over lost time.

The fathers of daughters who had come back to their babies walking, and talking. Elderly couples who now had even less time to live the rest of their lives together, loved ones coming back to find their person had passed on in their time away.

The second your feet hit the porch, they slowly carried you down the steps. When the neighbors saw you and your tears, a handful of them immediately rushed towards you.

Everyone in this tiny town was well aware of Steve at this point, he was a celebrity to the locals yet they all loved him dearly and treated him so kindly. Steve was so loved, and he loved everyone in return.

Their concern for you and for him during a moment like this rushed to the forefront of their priorities.

"Oh darling" Your next door neighbor on the opposite side of Steve's old house pulled you into a hug. "Is Steve okay?"

You allowed her arms to comfort you, "I don't know."

Then more footsteps came rushing around you in all directions, arms engulfing you, hands holding your pieces together. You couldn't even distinguish who's voice was coming from where, but you were immensely grateful for the community always being there for you, and him.

"Honey, he did a wonderful thing."

"Have you heard from him?"

"Where is he?"

"New York" You lifted your head with a sniffle. "He's in New York, he said there's an emergency but I don't know what happened."

"He's strong, he'll be okay."

"He's going to be just fine."

"Steve is a force to be reckoned with, he's going to give hell to anything that tries to touch him."

More footsteps, then a breathless "have you guys heard the news?"

Your head lifted, you looked up at the friendly face that was looking back at you with regret and sympathy "What happened?"

"Thanos is back on earth, he brought an army. The entire avengers compound was destroyed, they're showing it on the news right now."

The tiniest gasp hitched in your throat, and settling anxiety dizzied your vision. It felt like your hearing cut out for a few moments while everyone else around you asked the important questions.

Tiny pieces of information poked through the thick film of fear shrink wrapping around you. We're the avengers okay? Nobody knew. The compound was no longer standing, it was nothing but a pile of rubble beneath the Avengers feet.

But the loudest and most invasive flood of information to your brain was your own voice screaming at you, telling you that the only ounce of control you had over Steve's well-being was to start going to him. Secondly, you thought of the Avengers and the love Steve had for them. They were now misplaced, some of them with no homes now that the compound was blown to shreds. You needed to go to them too.

"Sorry," You mumbled, stepping away from the support of your community and further into the driveway. "I have to go."

Running into your house and grabbing a few things, you shoved it all into a backpack and headed back outside.

The neighbors gentle voices tried to ask you where you we're going. Maybe they were trying to get you to think of the consequences of your actions before you set out on a long drive across state before you started the journey. But all you were thinking of was how he would get home, how you needed to be there for him if he got himself injured or even wors.... no. Not gonna happen.

Getting into the driver's seat and starting the car, you were immediately thankful to your past self that filled the tank with gas after arriving home from New York.

Setting out into the road, you knew there was a chance Steve would get mad at you for this. His only request was for you to stay home so he knew you would be safe, but right now you knew deep within you heart and soul that this is what you needed to do.

During the long drive, you tried to distract yourself through the hours. Blasting your favorite music, chatting with everyone who called you and catching up with everyone who had blipped. You even tried a few times to get into contact with your mom, but for some reason you still couldn't contact her for about an hour or two.

Driving though different cities gave you a good idea of what the world was like now. Some places you sped through with not another car in sight, every one at home with their loved ones, and in other places traffic was horrendous.

It got worse and worse the closer you got to the compound. As you started nearing, your heart pounded out of your chest as the sky got deeper and darker grey.

The smell of thick smoke was seeping through the exterior and through the air filters, you had to make so many different routes to avoid the road closures, sweet talk many police officers to convince them to let you cross evacuation barriers.

As if the universe had planned it, you pulled up at the perfect time. You got as close as you could, put your car into park, got out and started walking towards the smoke pillars and rubble. You could tell whatever had happened was over now. All the chaos in the sky had settled, and you could no longer hear any shouting, banging, or loud noises in general.

Then, your sunflower lit up with one long glow, and your phone started ringing shortly after.

You pulled it out of your pocket, and Steve's name was displayed loudly on the screen. Your shaky fingers accepted the call as fast as they could.

"Baby, are you okay?" You asked quickly.

You could hear him panting like a dog, and the rubble crunching beneath heavy tactical boots. "You're here?" He asked. His voice was breaking, and hoarse.

"Yeah, I am." You told him, knowing he had your location tracked for his own peace of mind. "I'm sorry, I know you told me to stay out but I just felt like I really needed to come be here for yo-"

"I need you" he panted, broken voice cutting off your apology. "You were right."

"Where are you?" You questioned, now having a fire lit under your ass to get to him even quicker.

"Stay where you are, I don't want you to have to see what happened over here." His emotions slowly cracked. "I'm coming to you."

Today had already been one of the worst of his life, and leaving you traumatized over the sight of a war zone and the body of someone you had developed a platonic love for was not something he wanted to do to you.

It wasn't long before you heard heavy footsteps coming towards you, you stood on end feeling uneasy and uncomfortable in the environment you willingly put yourself in.

Then, you saw him. Steve was doing his best to get to you, but he was hanging on by a thread. It instantly shattered your heart to see him so distressed and worn down.

The skin on his face and fingers were painted grey by the smoke and ash that clung to it, blood was pouring down his left cheek from underneath his helmet, and part of his bottom lip was cracked open. His legs were shaking and he walked slowly with a limp, and only half of his shield was attached to his arm. His big blue eyes that usually held a beautiful optimistic sparkle were dull and watery.

Your feet started running over to him faster than your mind could keep up with, and the closer you got, the more Steve unraveled.

He had exhausted his bravery and overextended his ability to hold his composure, so the very moment your hand landed on his shoulder and your eyes looked him up and down with a horrified look smeared on your sweet, beautiful face, he lost it.

"Holy shit" You whispered to yourself. One tear fell down his eye before disappearing under his helmet, then you wrapped your arms around him in a very gentle hug as to not cause him anymore pain, and that one tear turned into something you've never seen Steve do before.

He started sobbing.

Of course you've seen him cry before, but this was more than that. He was collapsing in your arms, failing to catch his breath between panting and crying as his emotions unwound faster than he's ever allowed them to before. You did your best to hold him up, but he was a solid, built guy who was a lot taller than you.

The two of you swayed as he cried, but you could feel just by holding onto him that he hadn't inhaled a single breath in a concerning amount of time.

"Breathe, honey." You reminded him calmly, one hand rubbing his back and the other cradling the back of his helmet covered head. "You have to breathe."

Steve inhaled a choppy attempt at a big breath, and recognized that he was starting to feel like all of the parts of the suit on his body were heightening the pain radiating through each of his limbs, it was suffocating and growing more unbearable by the second.

As if you were an expert of reading his mind and had a PhD in his body language, you let your arms release him slowly allowing him to hold himself up again before your hands reached for his face.

He couldn't rip his gaze away from your face. Usually when your eyebrows were furrowed and your lips pouted in deep concern for someone, it made him sad. But right now, your soft doe eyes and the whole of your deep concern being directed straight at him left him feeling a kind of comfort he hadn't felt since his mother was around. It only encouraged his tears to continue flowing at a rate that was completely unmanageable.

Your steady hands unbuckled the strap around his chin and lifted the helmet off his head then placed it on the floor before your thumbs carefully swiped tears off of his cheeks while avoiding all the blood on his face. All it did was smear the smoke across his cheeks even more, but he was soaking in every second of feeling your skin on his.

"Are you hurt?" You questioned softly, hands moving from his face down to his utility belt to unbuckle it from around his hips, but your eyes never left his.

"My arm" Steve confessed through choppy breaths and sniffles.

Only then did your eyes leave his, and trail down to his left arm. Half of his shield still attached, your hands grabbed his and lifted it carefully higher to your face to inspect it. That's when you realized he was still holding onto the shield because his forearm was slashed straight down the center through the suit, and it's leather straps were tightened to hold it together to keep it from bleeding out.

"Okay" You nodded, letting yourself process that he was injured. "Anywhere else?"

Unexpectedly, he let out a small laugh between the tears. "I just got the shit beat out of me, everything hurts."

You gave him a sympathetic smile, then something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye.

"Baby, you might not want to look over there." Steve warned you again with a remorseful sniffle, but it was too late.

You spotted the red and gold iron man suit all too easily amongst the dull grey surroundings. Though you couldn't make out much detail from far away, you could see his helmet was off, his arm was burned with a gauntlet on his hand, and he wasn't moving. He was surrounded by weepy Avengers, most of them kneeling or squatting around him and each other, offering hugs and condolences.

When you looked back at Steve, your heart broke even more for him. "Oh, you poor thing. I'm so sorry."

He had now lost two friends he loved dearly within 24 hours of each other, and there was nothing you could do to take the physical or mental pain away from him.

"Thanos and his army were about to destroy the planet." Steve explained with a cry, shaking his head in disbelief. "He got the gauntlet, snapped them away. The stones are powerful, a normal human body can't handle them."

"He did the right thing." You dropped your voice to a whisper, trying to hold back your own tears for Steve's sake. You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair a few times as he tried to grapple at the events that took place.

"He had a wife and kid." Steve cried. "They were his priority just as much as you were mine. What if it was me?"

"Baby, he kept them safe." You nodded tearfully, but still managing to keep them at bay. "He saved the world so Morgan could grow up safe and happy. He shouldn't have ever had to make that choice, and it's awful that it happened, but he did the right thing. No matter who would've done it, it was the right choice."

He nodded silently and let your words sink in.

"I'm so proud of you." You gently rubbed up and down the bicep of his injured arm, trying your hardest to keep him together. "Thank you for continuing to fight for humanity even when you felt like you had no fight left in you."

"I did it for you." He sniffled.

"I love you so much" Your arms engulfed him again, he clung onto you like his life depended on it. You could feel the whole of his body shaking in pain.

"I love you too" His tears were slowing down, but remained in a state of overwhelming emotion.

"Should we get you to a hospital?" You asked, hating every second of knowing how bad he was hurting.

He shook his head. "I just want to go home."

"I'm so sorry you had to go through this, my love." You squeezed the back of his neck. "What about your arm? They can give you some painkillers, clean you up, take care of your face."

"I know it looks scary, but the serum will take care of it." He shoved his face deeper into your neck.

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm" He reassured. "I really want to be mad at you for putting yourself in danger like this, but I'm so happy you're here."

You smiled at his words, "You can be mad at me if you need to, but if I was in an emergency in a whole different state you would move mountains to get to me."

"I'd rage war on the entire world." He grumbled.

"Honey, you're shaking like a leaf. Do you want to sit for a minute?" You asked, then your attention was pulled away by the footsteps of multiple people, and a voice.

"Oh, there he is. Guys, we found him." Spoke a male voice you didn't recognize.

"Sugar cookie!"

You looked up and couldn't even help the smile that subconsciously smeared across your face. "Sam! Welcome back!"

Steve looked up and unwrapped himself from the hug, but you both kept one arm around each other to help hold him up.

"I'm happy to see you, sugar! And even happier to see that you and Stevie boy over here made it work."

He quickly approached you and gave you a one armed hug, understanding why you weren't letting go of Steve.

"Me too." You smiled, now seeing the bright side of what Steve fought so hard for.

"Let me help you out, are you alright Steve?" Sam asked, coming around to Steve's other side and taking the weight of the soldier off of you.

"I'll be fine." He nodded simply, accepting Sam's help.

You were so focused on Steve and Sam that you failed to notice the shyer, more timid footsteps headed towards you three.

Sam, pointed before saying "Hey, have you ever met B-"

"Bucky!" You enthused, walking towards him with open arms.

Your warmth made a smile appear on his face too, and when he met you in the middle, he happily gave you a hug.

Ever since Steve started telling him about you all the way back during his days in Wakanda, he had a deep rooted fear that you would be scared of him. But that all dissolved when your hands quickly rubbed his back and and you approached him without even a second thought.

"It's so nice to finally meet you." You told him.

"It's about time." Bucky agreed, still a bit shy.

You remembered all of the countless conversations you've had with Steve about Bucky. How when they were teenagers, Bucky was outgoing and extroverted, maybe to a fault. But nowadays he was shy, slow to warm up, and slow to feel comfortable around new people. You understood wholeheartedly, and wanted to give him the space he needed to gain confidence that you were safe to be around.

All of Steve's family had been through a lot in life, but especially Bucky, and especially in this very moment.

"Sam, Bucky, are you guys okay? Are you hurt?"

Both of the boys shook their heads no, then gave their undivided attention to Steve. All three of you knew he wasn't going to be able to exert himself for much longer at all, so they helped you out.

Sam ran to inform everyone that Steve had to go, while Bucky started helping him walk to your car. Eventually Sam caught up and both boys walked him over, taking most of his weight in the way there. You put his belt, helmet and half the shield into the trunk while Steve leaned against the car, and the three boys chatted away.

They were all in agreement that Steve needed to be home, and given lots of love and attention while he healed his body and mind. It was really sweet to see the love they had for each other in real time. A small circle of people Steve trusted to let see the tears fall regardless of being in uniform. Though it was terribly sad, and so bittersweet, the underlying tone was pure love and you couldn't help but to soak it all in.

When you joined them again, Sam looked at you. "I think we should get this man home."

"Couldn't agree more." You nodded, but you couldn't help but to worry about them too. "Boys, do you have a place to go?"

"I'm headed to my sister's place." Sam confirmed.

Then your eyes met Bucky's. "I'll figure it out." He told you, but you could hear the lack of belief in his own statement.

"Come with us." You told him confidently. Then realized you should probably check with Steve before inviting someone to stay with you, but he was starting to hunch over in pain, his eyes were closing and he wasn't paying much attention to anything other than staying upright. "We have a guest room, you can stay as long as you need."

"No, I couldn't possibly burd-"

"You're absolutely not a burden." You didn't even allow him to finish that statement. "You deserve a comfortable place to lay low for a while, I'd love to get to know you better, and I think it would be good for Steve to have you around. You're more then welcome, we'd love to have you."

He sighed, "okay, but I promise it'll just be for a few days until I can get a place."

You shook your head. "As long as you need, no rush."

"Let's get Rogers in the car" Sam told Bucky, earning a nod.

They got him into the backseat so he could sprawl out if need be, and buckled his seatbelt. The boys said bye to Sam, then Bucky got in the back to keep an eye on him and make sure his arm wasn't bleeding too much on the way home.

It was just you and Sam standing outside the driver door, and he wasn't shy about giving you information you needed to know about Steve.

"The serum will heal his body but it also makes him mentally strong, so seeing him like this is... it's hard." Sam admitted.

"I know, it breaks my heart." You agreed. "I'll take good care of him."

"I looked after him when he ended up in the hospital once. When he gets injured like this and is in extreme emotional pain, he falls asleep for a very long time. You can wake him up for short periods of time but he'll fall back asleep quickly. It's like the serum is using every ounce of energy it can to self repair, he has nothing left for anything else."

Thinking back to all time times Steve was especially sad, and the whole time he spent as a fugitive, you realized Sam was right. He always slept it off. "That's actually really helpful, thank you."

"Is it okay if I call you to check up on them?" He asked.

"Call me whenever you'd like. Do you want to come with us too? It'll at least get you out of New York."

"Thank you, but I really should get home to my sister, check in on my nephews." Sam smiled.

"I understand" You nodded. "You're welcome anytime."

The two of you exchanged phone numbers and said your goodbyes before hitting the road again back to Greenwood. It didn't take long for Bucky to fall asleep next to Steve, so for a few hours you played your playlists quietly to try and keep yourself entertained after having driven so many hours already. Eventually Bucky woke up, and sure enough, Steve had slowly and unconsciously started making his way over to cuddle him.

It made you giggle every time you looked back at them through the rear view mirror. Bucky had to practically fight Steve's limbs to keep off of him and every once in a while he would a mumble out a comment about how he hasn't changed at all since they were teenagers.

Eventually Bucky offered to drive the rest of the way once he realized how long you had already driven today, and that it was probably in Steve's best interest if you were the one looking after him. So you pulled over at a gas station, filled up, then switched with Bucky feeling more than grateful to get away from the wheel for a while.

When you got into the back seat with him, you sat in the middle so he could get all the snuggles he didn't even know he was asking for. Realizing there were more parts of his suit you could still take off to make him more comfortable, you removed the communication device from his ears, pulled the thick leather gloves off his hands, and rolled up the sleeve of his suit on his injured arm so the fabric didn't irritate the gash further.

After spending the whole day in the car, the relief that rang through your body when Bucky pulled into your driveway was immense. The two of you got Steve out of the car, into the house and up the stairs successfully, but it caught a lot of attention from friends in surrounding houses.

A few came out to offer help and thank Steve for what he did, but you could see it in their eyes that seeing Captain America unconscious and covered in blood was their first reality check that being a superhero wasn't all that fun.

The two of you sat him safe and comfortably in your shared room before getting Bucky a comfortable change of Steve's clothes and setting him up for a shower and a very long nap in the guest bedroom. He was incredibly grateful to be given that luxury.

Then, you had to deal with your 250 pound bag of bones. Standing over him, you started shaking his shoulders and tapping his cheeks to try and get him to wake up. And when he did, he looked around with a confused and scared look in his eyes when he realized he wasn't where he thought he was anymore.

"Hi baby." You said to pull his eyes towards you, hoping he would feel safe again. "You're okay, we're back home safe and sound."

"Bucky is here?" He mumbled, trying to keep his eyes open.

"Yeah, he's just downstairs settling in." Keeping your voice and your touch gentle. "How are you feeling?"

"Still hurts."

"I'm sorry, sweet boy." A physical pain bloomed through your chest as he muttered those two words. Watching the strongest person you know become so weak had been one of the saddest moments you've bared witness to. "I want to try to get you out of the suit and cleaned up so you can get more comfortable. Do you think you can handle that right now?"

"You'll help me?" Steve asked.

"Of course, I'm not going to leave you." You reassured him.

"Yeah I think I can do that." He nodded, slowly blinking his eyes.

With a whole lot of patience and working carefully and slowly, you helped get him undressed, showered, and semi-dressed again while trying your hardest not to cause him any more pain than he was already in.

It was hard for you to see his body in such destress, every piece of clothing you removed revealed a new deep purple bruise that was settling beneath his skin. The blood washed off his face but it was still cut up, and tiny little hisses and whimpers of pain he tried his hardest to keep to himself would escape past his throat every once in a while.

Eventually you got him into bed. His hair was still a little soggy from getting washed, and you didn't manage to get a shirt or pants on him but hey, it was good enough. Only once you got him settled and comfortable did you sit next to him and start gently wrapping up the cut on his forearm.

The serum was already doing a good job taking care of it. It was no longer bleeding and it started fusing back together, but you still wanted to make sure it stayed clean and unbothered as he healed.

You finished by cleaning up what you could, put your own soggy hair from having to get into the shower with him into a clip, then got into bed next to him.

Fingers sliding through his damp hair, and delicate kisses being placed to his temple, he finally let it sink in that he was safe and would continue to be safe.

He fell asleep again, and the deeper he fell the more he clung onto you. The biggest part of you was happy and relieved to have him slowly smothering you, at least you knew he was safe and out of harms way. But, you couldn't quiet the smaller part of your brain that couldn't stop barking worries at you. Luckily, it all seemed trivial now that the world could start healing again.

Steve slept through the rest of the day, the entirety of the night, and didn't wake up until late morning the next day. You tried waking him up once to see if he wanted to eat, but it was clear when he started responding to you with his eyes closed that it wasn't going to happen.

Luckily it was pretty easy to slip out from beneath him. That night you and Bucky got a lot of time to talk and bond over dinner and a few beers, you even snuck off to go see if Georgia was home from the hospital yet but the driveway was empty and your knocks at the door were unanswered.

It seems like everyone slept in the next morning, including you who was woken up to back rubs and the sweetest kisses. The sun was shining brightly through the curtains, and big blue eyes were looking back at you as you opened yours.

"You're so pretty" Steve whispered with a soft smile, continuing to rub your back.

"Good morning, baby." You mumbled, trying to wake yourself up more. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better." He confirmed. "Still sad, but better. Maybe a little embarrassed."

"Embarrassed? Why?" Your hand found his cheek.

"I broke down fast, and hard." He said with a shy expression, "I couldn't even hold myself together."

"You hold yourself to a standard that's impossible to attain." You told him, gently rubbing his cheek with the pad of your thumb. "I love you and I love that big ol' heart of yours. I love that you express your emotions, and all I want you to do is feel all of your feelings. But the only thing I will not allow you to feel is embarrassed over how you reacted to something that traumatic."

"Well for what it's worth, I'm definitely feeling feelings."

"Be gentle with yourself." You pressed a kiss to his lips, prompting his eyes to close. "Just in the past few days you've time traveled, made amends with an agreement that wrapped your life up for two whole years, lost two of your friends, and almost sacrificed yourself to an army of titans trying to take over the planet. You saved the world. It's okay to cry."

He nodded before shoving his face into the pillow below his head. Patiently and calmly, you played with his hair waiting for him to open up more about the recent events. You could tell the word vomit was on the tip of his tongue, the moment he started to let it spew out it would take a while to stop, and you were ready to listen for however long he needed you to.

"Where did you go when you time traveled?" You questioned, trying to give him a place to start.

"Avengers tower in 2012, we tried to get the space stone in Loki's scepter." He started. "I had to fight my past self in hand to hand combat, do you know how weird that is?"

"No, no I don't." You denied with a smile. "Did you get a chance to see how handsome you really are?"

Your fingers pinched his cheeks, earning a blush. "I was a little too busy free falling off a glass bridge from a few stories high."

"That's fair."

"Well our plan didn't work, so Tony and I went to Camp Lehigh in the 70's to get the Tesseract."

"Why the 70's?" You questioned.

Recalling the reason to you felt like telling his mom a story not realizing there was incriminating information in it, so the tiniest giggle escaped his lips. "Well Tony and I may have used the last of our pym particles to get there because Hank Pym used to have a lab at the camp at the same time the tesseract was there, so we were going to grab the stone and more particles to get home! A win win!"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Im so glad I had no idea any of this was happening."

"It's better that way." Steve agreed.

"Was it weird to be back?"

"It was weirder to be back during a time I could've lived through had I not, you know..."

"Yeah" You let him know you understood, not wanting him to have to recall yet another traumatic event.

"It was also weird getting the chance to see people I used to know, but older than when I knew them."

The moment those words left his lips, Steve watched happy crinkles form around the corner of your big beautiful eyes, and your lips trying to contain a smile. "Did you see Peggy?"

Steve was immediately nervous to answer that.

It was the first time her name had ever left your mouth. The two of you had never spoken about ex partners unless it was about how bad your last one was.

From what Steve understood, the story of his journey as Captain America back in World War II was one that was often taught about in school. Him, Bucky, the Howling Commandos, Dr. Erskine, Howard, and Peggy. Their relationship was no secret, it was a tale told to kids, a short lived romance that inspired movies and stories around the country.

Though it's true that she got him first, he loved you more.

The last thing Steve wanted to do was hurt your feelings or say the wrong things. But he also knew he had a lot of feelings about the lost time and lost chances in his life that wouldn't be healthy to keep bottled up. Recognizing he needed to talk about it with someone also meant that he finally had something he couldn't talk though with you. For your sake, he wanted to protect your heart as much as you protected his.

"I did." He kept his tone neutral and face expressionless with a hint of apology. "Through an office window by accident."

Unexpectedly, your smile grew wider. "Did you talk to her?"

"What? No." His eyebrows furrowed.

"Why not?" You questioned.

"I could thing of about 15 different reasons why that wouldn't be a good idea." Steve defended himself, realizing that you wanted him to have seen her.

"Oh yeah? Name one." You stood your ground.

"Well, let's start with the fact that my body was somewhere frozen into a big block of ice and I was supposed to be dead."

"Not good enough, you should've been warmer." You denied, obviously joking.

"Ugh, you're so right." Steve agreed. "Also I don't know if you know this, but I have a really incredible girlfriend that I love more than anything in the whole world. I was a little too focused on getting home to her."

"You didn't even want to say goodbye?" You asked with a pout.

"I already did. I said it in person a few months before she passed, and again when I carried her casket into her funeral. There's nothing more that needed to be done." He said confidently. "Why the pout, honey?

Your thumb drew a heart into his cheek. "Because Peggy was my favorite person to study in history class, and frankly I'm jealous. Not for the obvious reasons, but because you got to see her and I didn't."

That brought a rush of relief to Steve's mind and a genuine laugh out of his body. "That's adorable, and I'm sorry. I'll be more considerate next time I find myself in the 70's."

"Thank you, I really appreciate that." You smiled. "Is this a good time to tell you I wrote an essay about her in high school and got an A on it?"

"How long have you waited to tell me that?" Steve asked, feeling more awake now but it was obvious you were still a little sleepy.

"How long has it been since I figured out you were Captain America?"

Steve giggled again, "did you get any A's on Captain America essays?"

"Literally never." You denied. "Sorry."

"It's okay, I understand." His smile prevailed.

"If I wrote one now I'd get an A plus."

"Oh, I believe it." He agreed.

"How's you arm? I've been worried about it."

"Feels like it's not even injured anymore." He eased your mind, before easing his own. "How have you been holding up with all of this?"

Another kiss was placed on his lips before you started. "I'm okay. It was hard seeing you yesterday, and it going to take a while to not be sad about Nat and Tony, but I'm so happy you guys were able to reverse what Thanos did."

"Have you talked to your Mom?"

"I did." You smiled. "She googled my name to try and find out if I was okay before she called me, and I think she's a little shocked that I'm dating you but other than that I think it'll take her a while to process what happened to the universe."

"Oh no, does she not like me?" Steve cringed.

"It's impossible to not like you" you denied.

"Have you met Georgia and Michael?" He questioned. "Speaking of, had you heard from her?"

"She's okay." You confirmed with a nod. "Should be back home at some point today."

"Did I hallucinate that Bucky is here or is that real?"

"Oh no that's real, he's downstairs." This time you giggled. "Were you hallucinating?"

"I... don't know. Yesterday was a blur." He answered. "I thought we agreed to you not taking in anymore fugitives!"

"Oh but this one is so cute!" You enthused as if the grown adult assassin in your guest bedroom was a puppy. "Can we keep him!?"

Steve shook his head at you with a smile. "Unbelievable."

"Pleaaaassseeee" You begged.

"Maybe I should call your mom and ask her why she didn't teach you stranger danger" he joked.

"Bucky is no stranger, you big meanie." You very gently hit the top of his arm, the way it was barely even a pat made him laugh. "He's wonderful. We had dinner together last night."

"You and Bucky had dinner together?!" Steve questioned. "He's gonna steal my girl with a clean sweep."

"No he's not." You denied. "And to be fair, I did try to wake you up."

Steve smiled and kissed you softly. "Thanks for looking out for him. It means a lot to me."

"He's important to you, so he's important to me." You reminded Steve.

"But you like him so far?"

"I love him, he's great." You sleepily enthused.

"I should go bother him" Steve noted, trying to get himself out of bed. He slowly sat up and kicked his legs over the edge until he was sitting. "You wanna go bother Bucky too?"

"Is bothering him my only option?"

"You could annoy him? Maybe pester him."

"Existing in peace isn't an option?" You giggled, stretching out your back and all 4 limbs now that Steve was up and you had the whole bed to yourself.

"With Bucky? Never."

"Sounds fun" you nodded.

You watched Steve stretch each of his shoulders out, pulling each arm to the side between opposite folded forearms and bicep. His face scrunched up, and a little wince sounded from his throat.

"I thought I felt better, but lying down was really deceiving." He noted.

"You look pretty solid considering you were half dead yesterday." You noted enthusiastically. "That's good, right?!"

Steve watched you get out of bed before looking down and realizing he really had barely any recollection of what happened after you made it to New York. "Also, where are my clothes? Why am I half naked? And who saw me naked? How am I so clean?"

You laughed at his choice of words. "Just me, I helped you take a shower, remember?"

"Nope." He popped the P at the end of the word. "But thank you!"

"No problembo"

He opened his arms for you as you approached for a hug, and he happily wrapped you up and kissed your head. He was always grateful for you, but a little more so right now.

"You're incredible, Honey." You reminded him once more, your hands rubbing the bare skin of his back. "I'm happy and sad for you at the same time, but I hope through the good and bad you can find peace now."

"This was definitely a good start." He grinned. "I love you, I couldn't have done it without your support."

"I love you too."

"My arms still really hurt." He stated, gently swaying you from side to side. "Probably from wielding mjolnir."

That statement earned your stillness as you thought about what he had just said. Then all at once you pulled away from his hold, "you did WHAT?!"

Series Finale: Good Luck Charm

Tag List: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @happinessinthebeing @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bitchy-bi-trash @crazyunsexycool @openup-yourmind @selella @kattreffic @benedict-squirtle @magnificentsaladllama @theroyalmanatee @calwitch @avengersinitiative2012 @rogersbarber @daddywattpad4945

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newgabeorder · 3 months ago

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Also, Bolts feels like the Gaz Digzy of the Thunder Bolts. Both used to be elite in the past, but they end up as poor team players in the current time the cartoons took place in. Could this mean that Ace and Blip are similar in a way?

#toon time theater #toontimetheater #cartoons #bolts & blip #ballmastrz 9009 #gaz digzy

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questforgalas · 1 year ago

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Thank you for coming back

Notes: So once again, @zaana's incredible art lived rent free in my head until I put it down on paper. So here's a delightful AU where Crosshair doesn't get sent to Tantiss because guess who gets to him first? Chose to do a rescue from Barton IV because Cross is in his imperial armor in the art, and I thought "Hey, let's maybe give him a break and not make him go through torture before he's rescued?" Neat idea, right? Let's tell Jen and Brad

WC: 3K (lol this was going to be a drabble)

Characters: The Bad Batch (all of them!)

Tags: Wrecker POV (he deserves all the Crosshair reunion energy), angst at the end (Crosshair is going through it ok), hurt/comfort, giant family group hug, Crosshair and Wrecker cry, Hunter is emotional, canon typical violence, implied mistreatment by the Empire (did I mention Crosshair is going through it?), family reunion, all the family fluff I could fit into 3k words

Tay's Masterlist

Read on AO3

The sound of blaster fire was becoming permanent in Wrecker’s ears. Hunkered down behind a duracrete barrier, he kept his DC-17 trained on the Imps attempting to advance on his position, blaster bolts streaming past his head.

“Seriously, who trained these guys to shoot,” he thought to himself, needing to only dodge a few bolts from the barrage while his targets fell with each pull of his trigger.

The landing platform at the depot on Barton IV was looking more like a true battlefield and less like a remote outpost with every passing minute. Two T-4 shuttles lay in smoking ruins - the first thanks to Hunter’s skill on the Marauder’s rear gun and the second thanks to an excellent detonator throw by Wrecker - and stormtrooper bodies lay scattered across the duracrete ground. So far, Wrecker and Hunter were executing their part of the plan perfectly, but when it came to creating distractions, there wasn’t much guess work as to Wrecker’s success rate.

The Batch’s intel told them that the depot, located on a desolate, frozen planet that rivaled Hoth’s icy temperatures, normally operated as a blip on the Empire’s priority list. In fact, blip might have been giving it too much credit. The small clone trooper squad that was assigned to protection detail put in requests for equipment, supplies, and reinforcements throughout their year of service, and every request fell on deaf imperial ears. Gathered from the information Tech found during his hacking, Commander Mayday of the squad put in a request for reinforcements 40 rotations ago, citing that only five members of his squad remained alive at the time the request went in, but Tech couldn’t find any log of a response anywhere in the records. Complete silence from the Empire.

Until 4 rotations ago. The call went out for a platoon of stormtroopers to ready for deployment to Barton IV with orders to transport cargo of high importance to the Empire from the depot to the military base on Coruscant. Prior to the platoon’s arrival, a small squad of clone troopers was sent to scout and ready the depot for the cargo transfer. The squad consisted of two standard troopers and one specialized. One prickly, stubborn, unyielding specialized trooper who Wrecker couldn’t wait to see again.

When Tech caught chatter that a clone trooper shot a commanding imperial officer in broad daylight in front of an imperial depot, he initially intended to send the intel directly to Captain Rex, informing him of another defecting clone who would be in need of assistance, but after he scanned the information log, he didn’t register his datapad falling from his hands, thudding on the floor, only able to to focus on activating the comm on his vambrace, urging Hunter to get to the Marauder as quickly as possible. Because there in front of him, written across the Marauder’s main computer, was CT-9904: Defector. Charged with the murder of Lieutenant Nolan. In custody on Barton IV. Scheduled for armed transfer in two rotations.

The discussion was short - Hunter the only one remaining cautious until Tech confirmed the lack of security at the depot, even with the stormtrooper platoon coming in - and the Batch set their course to Barton IV less than two hours after the message was intercepted. The plan was easy, one the Batch could nearly execute in their sleep, even with their newer blonde addition. Create a distraction to draw the majority of security out into the open which Hunter and Wrecker would engage while Omega provided cover from the Marauder. Meanwhile, Tech and Echo skirt along the edge of the chaos, slip into the depot undetected, locate Crosshair’s location, and extract him while neutralizing any remaining threats if necessary.

Plans 5, 4, and 21. The Batch specialty.

“Wrecker, incoming! Northwest!” Hunter’s smokey voice called over the commotion.

The far gate of the depot opened, ten stormtroopers running out to join the fight. “Yeah, I see ‘em, Sarge,” Wrecker confirmed. “They look excited to see us.”

Hunter took cover behind his barrier, and turned his head in Wrecker’s direction.

“How about you give our hosts a warm greeting?” Hunter suggested, cocking his head to the side. Wrecker could feel the smug smirk under that helmet.

“Gladly,” Wrecker responded gleefully.

Reaching into the pack on his back, he grabbed two thermal detonators, clicked them live, and chucked. They arced into the air, curving in opposite directions, landing right in the middle of the oncoming troopers, and Wrecker watched as all ten stormtroopers disappeared into a beautiful burst of orange, red, and black.

“Direct hit,” Wrecker yelled, pumping his DC-17 in triumph.

Across the way, Hunter gave a quick thumbs up and popped his head above his barrier. Wrecker did the same, confirming that the landing platform was clear of imps for the moment, but they knew more troopers would arrive soon. They’d only taken out about 30 of them so far.

“Agh, where are they,” Hunter wondered, helmet trained on the door they expected to see their brothers emerge from.

“Give ‘em a few more minutes, Sarge. I doubt the Empire just left Crosshair in a set of binders on a crate.”

“They’re dumb enough to,” Hunter said. A soft chuckle came through his modulator, “Wonder how long he’d humor them until he took them all out with his hands still bound.”

“Knowing Crosshair? They wouldn’t even get the binders on him,” Wrecker laughed.

Hunter went quiet, helmet still pointed at the door. Then his shoulders fell like he was bowing to a weight Wrecker couldn’t see. “We’ll have to be patient. He’s…” Hunter paused. “He’s probably not the Crosshair we remember. There are going to be some … invisible wounds.”

Wrecker released his own shuttered breath. He looked down at the ground for a moment, and then looked back up to find Hunter looking back at him. “Doesn’t matter how long it takes. We’ll help patch those up too.”

Hunter remained still for a breath and then nodded.

The silence was interrupted by a chime on Hunter’s comm. “What’ve you got, Omega?” he asked as he activated the connection.

“I’m picking up multiple heat signatures heading our way. Looks like our little break is over,” Omega’s voice chirped over the comm.

“Copy that,” Hunter responded.

Wrecker brought his own comm up to his mouth. “What’s your count, kid?” he asked playfully.

“I’m at 4,” Omega answered, a smug tone floating through.

“Only 4? You’re falling behind. I’m at 18,” Wrecker said.

“I don’t think the thermal detonators should count,” Hunter interjected.

“What?! Did you see how perfectly those landed? Probably my best yet! Not even Tech could pull that off.”

“It’s hardly fair when I’m all the way back here on the Marauder!” Omega argued.

“Excuses excuses, kid,” Wrecker teased. Their debate came to a quick halt when the remaining hangar doors of the depot opened, revealing the last wave of the platoon. “Alright, break time’s over. Shoot good, kid.”

The platform became engulfed in battle once again. Blaster bolts peppered the air. Thermal detonators flew. Line after line of stormtroopers tried to take the advantage on the two ground soldiers and their coverage, but Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega held them back with ease. Wrecker heard General Skywalker speaking to Hunter about something called meditation once - a staple Jedi practice of centering one’s mind and connecting with the force through quiet sitting - and while Wrecker wasn’t sure this would meet the Jedi standard, he imagined this was the closest to meditation he would ever come. Surrounded by the sounds of battle. Adrenaline pumping in his veins. He’d hit a point of focus that drowned everything else out, his mission the only thought in his mind. And he was dam good at it, too.

His DC-17 sang, and he let out a jovial laugh as he took down another line of troopers. As he focused on the enemies in front of him, the squad’s comm channel chimed in his helmet, and the only thing in the galaxy that could divert his attention from the battle in front of him called through the speakers.

“Hunter. Wrecker. We’ve got him. We’re approaching the exit. What’s the status of the platform?” Echo’s voice came through.

For a second, Wrecker and Hunter turned towards each other, both chests rising rapidly with fast breaths not caused by the battle in front of them, and Wrecker knew if he could see Hunter’s eyes, they’d reflect the same bottomless relief he was feeling.

Wrecker forced himself back to the present and provided cover fire while Hunter responded.

“You’re clear to exit. A few imps left but nothing we can’t handle. Wrecker and I will provide cover fire while you cross the platform. Go directly to the Marauder,” Hunter ordered.

Wrecker’s breath caught in his throat when a low, raspy voice could be heard in the background. “No, we thought we’d take a hike in the mountains.”

A hitched breath came through, and in his peripheral, Wrecker noticed Hunter lean his helmet back against the duracrete barrier, shoulders shaking.

“I never thought I’d miss his attitude,” Omega piped in.

That broke the tension building in Wrecker’s head, and a laugh barreled out from his chest. Brain clear and ready to act again, he focused on the remaining stormtroopers trying to hold their ground.

“Omega, get the engines running. We’re getting off this hunk of ice as soon as we’re all onboard,” Hunter finished relaying the orders.

“One more thing,” Tech’s voice came through this time. “I did the scan. The inhibitor chip has indeed been removed, but only after the encounter on Bracca. Crosshair did remove it voluntarily unbeknownst to the Empire.”

“Tech kind of refused to leave the holding cells until he was able to confirm it all. Hacked records and everything here on the depot. That’s what took us so long,” Echo supplied.

“Thank the Maker for Tech, and his stubborn need for knowledge,” Hunter mumbled. He went back on the comm, “Glad to hear it. Now get out here.”

Hunter turned to Wrecker. “Let’s take out as many as we can before they get here. Once they emerge, you lay down cover fire, and I’ll take overwatch.”

“Copy that,” Wrecker replied, and they went to work.

Time that had been passing at light speed slowed to the flow of Mustafar lava. Only ten stormtroopers remained posted across the platform, and Wrecker was determined to clear as many as he could before his brothers emerged.

Another minute passed. Another. Then another. Time was taunting him.

A whoosh floated over the blasterfire. The blasted door to the depot finally opened, and there in the doorway were three bent over figures - two supporting the weight of the third in between them - hobbling onto the landing deck. Wrecker allowed himself one glance hoping it would calm his running mind. Echo took most of the middle figure’s weight, flesh arm wrapped around their waist and scomp arm securing the arm wrapped across Echo’s back dangling over his shoulder, while Tech kept one arm around the figure’s waist and kept his blaster at the ready in the other.

As Wrecker glanced at them, it wasn’t the figure’s distinct all black armor - the armor of the imperial special forces - that identified him to Wrecker. No, it was the tattoo around their right eye. The tattoo Wrecker sat and watched as Tech gave it to them when they were still just cadets. The tattoo that represented their pride in their skill. The tattoo that told everyone exactly which batch he belonged to, front and center for all to see. The crosshair.

Flanking from behind, Tech easily took down three stormtroopers before they made their way down the stairs. The remaining seven stormtroopers barked out orders to fall back, trying to regroup due to the new arrivals, and Wrecker used their confusion to his advantage, taking out another three in one go. Realizing they were outnumbered and outmatched, the remaining four stormtroopers fell back to the hangar, shooting wildly at any target they could see.

Slower than Wrecker would like, his three brothers made their way to his and Hunter’s position across the platform. As soon as they crossed the threshold of their barriers, Hunter stood from his coverage, falling in step to provide cover directly at their backs.

“Alright, Wrecker. Let’s keep these guys pinned as we head to the ship,” Hunter said.

Jumping into position, Wrecker kept a steady pace back to the Marauder without breaking his fire on the remaining stormtroopers. Hunter hit one more as they walked, and Wrecker had his finger on the trigger to take down another when a streak of pink flew over his head and directly into the helmet of his target.

He glanced over his shoulder.

“Final count: 12,” Omega beamed down at him from the top of the ramp into the Marauder.

“Aha! Nice shot, kid! Now let’s get out of here,” Wrecker said, barreling up the ramp into the ship.

The ramp closed up as the ship made its way into the air, and the energy within immediately went still. Tech sat in the cockpit, taking over the controls from Omega once on board, but Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, Omega, and Crosshair remained in the hold.

Crosshair sat in the chair in front of the computer, slumped over, one hand on the armrest propping him while an elbow rested on a knee like that was all the energy he could muster. He was breathing heavy, chest rising and falling as if he’d just finished a training sprint back on Kamino. Wrecker quickly gave his body a once over. Crosshair had always been lithe, by far the smallest body mass of the Bad Batch, but there had been muscle underneath those long limbs that gave any regular clone trooper a run for his money. Now, Wrecker clocked only bones showing underneath the exposed areas his armor didn’t cover, and his cheekbones were sharp above the hollowness of his cheeks. Purple blotched under his eyes, and it was impossible not to notice the deep scar that covered the right side on the back of his head. The scar he received when he took the full heat of a Venator ion engine.

The same engine he tried to trap his brothers in.

“Thank you…for coming for me. I…I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t,” Crosshair drawled, head bent down. Whether he was unable to lift it from lack of strength or not being able to face the current scene, Wrecker wasn’t sure. His own heart was thudding in his chest, threatening to burst out. He called on every ounce of discipline and self-restraint he learned in his years as a soldier and remained rooted in place, holding his breath. The rest of the Batch stood as still as statues, four sets of eyes on their silver-haired brother.

“You can drop me off at the closest port. You can pick. Doesn’t matter to me,” Crosshair said to the floor. Still, no one else spoke. He raised his head, glancing at each of them. His gaze settled on Hunter. “I…I’d understand if that’s what you want to do. It’s what you should do.”

The five of them felt the Marauder lurch into hyperspace, but still, Echo, Omega, Hunter, and Wrecker didn’t budge. Footsteps approached from the cockpit, and soon, Tech joined them, choosing to sit in the chair across from Crosshair. The silence grew, and Wrecked noticed the crease between the sniper’s eyebrows deepen while his eyes darted around the group.

“Well, aren’t any of you going to say something?” Crosshair asked, frustration creeping into his voice. He glanced around one more time, and finally stood up from the chair, a growl coming from his throat, back hunched like he was ready to pounce, and his gaze locked on Hunter, a finger pointed at the sergeant. “Listen, I didn’t ask you to come get me. I was ready to die on that platform after I shot the lieutenant, and I was ready to die in whatever maker-forsaken place they were going to send me. You hear me? I didn’t ask for this.” He gestured around the room, around the Batch.

“So don’t make me a burden you don’t want. Drop me anywhere. Leave me. It’s what I deserve - oof!”

Wrecker couldn’t take it anymore, and as he watched Crosshair teeter on the precipice of self-destruction, he took two strides towards his brother, and engulfed him in his arms.

Crosshair stiffened, his arms frozen mid-gesture to the side. Wrecker stood there, arms firmly wrapped around Crosshair’s back and shoulders, head dipping to rest on top of Crosshair’s head, and he waited. Eventually, Crosshair’s arms fell to his sides, but his body remained stiff like he wasn’t actually registering what was happening. Then, after a few breaths, his arms slowly rose, one wrapping under Wrecker’s arm and the other circling over his shoulder.

“Why did you come for me?” Wrecker heard muffled into his chestplate.

“We don’t leave our own behind,” Wrecker answered simply.

Wrecker felt the shaking first, then he heard the soft sobs. Tightening his arms, he held his once-lost brother as if challenging the galaxy to try and separate them again. When he felt Crosshair crumble into his chest, he released the grip he’d been holding on his own emotions, and the tears flowed freely. Tears of sorrow for what Crosshair endured. Tears of rage at the Empire. Tears of sweet relief at his family being whole again.

Wrecker felt a pair of arms sneak between his waist and Crosshair’s chest, and when he looked up, he saw Hunter wrapped around Crosshair’s back, arms crushing the sniper into the sergeant’s chest. “We’ve got you, Cross,” Hunter murmured.

One-by-one, Tech, Echo, and Omega joined in, the last squeezing herself into the middle, wrapping her arms around Crosshair’s leg, and even when the sobs quieted, they remained that way. There was a lot to talk about. A long road of trust to regain. They were about to navigate rough terrain. And the past will resurface, in old wounds, physical and not. But none of that mattered right now. In the middle of their home, a family reunited. Unsure what the future would bring them, but ready to face it all together.

#tay writes the bad batch #tay writes #divider by samspenandsword #the bad batch #star wars #hunter #wrecker #crosshair #tech #omega #echo #tbb wrecker #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb crosshair

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