#he was only concerned about himself and his ex for all of his screen time

[buckysm]

2:15 am (and i miss you)

ᯓ★ part one, part two

ᯓ★ Bucky Barnes x fem ex hydra AVENGER reader

ᯓ★ word count 8.4k+ (this was going to be 5k but then i ended up writing about 2.5k worth of smut... so!! beware)

ᯓ★a/n: this is weeks late, life happens, shit happens we get back up to write bucky barnes faniction. {para @dove4444 te amo, perdon por la espera <33333} (minor grammar edits on mar 11)

ᯓ★ summary: Tensions rise when a ‘friendship’ builds that leave both of you wanting more. Everyone can see how his eyes never leave you. If only you could get your head out of your ass and see for yourself.

ᯓ★ series warnings/ tags/ tropes: canon? what canon?, haters to lovers -- except you never hated him and he just resented you-- midnight rendezvous, friends to lovers, separation, Anxiety, angst and fluff and smut,  Bucky Needs a Hug, Protective Bucky Barnes Bucky Barnes issues related to past trauma, not so platonic cuddling, slow burn, jealous Bucky Barnes Miscommunication  Soft Bucky Barnes, Mentions of torture off screen ------[PART TWO WARNINGS: unhealthy coping strategies, miscommunication, smut, dry humping, cursing in other languages (Spanish and Russian), dacryphilia, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, p in v unprotected sex]

You needed time to heal after— two days of bed rest, stitches, and recovery from a heavily sprained ankle. And unfortunately for Bucky, that meant no clandestine meetings at quarter past two in the morning. 

He tried his best to keep away. After the initial reunion, he handed you into the infirmary and avoided everyone like the plague. They avoided him right back; he couldn’t blame them. He felt as if a storm cloud enveloped him without you, knew he had murder in his eyes. It cost him to hand you up to the doctors, a pang in his heart at having you taken from him once again. He told himself it wasn’t like that, and you would be back in his line of sight before he knew it. His subconscious disagreed, so he trained for hours until he passed out on a mat, warring voices in his head quieting down with exhaustion that pulled at his body and made gravity stronger. Phantom hands yanking him down into oblivion mid-workout. He toed the line of danger training without a spotter, but once the black started to spot his vision and his dry throat burned with rage —he was a super soldier, neglecting hydration helped him pass out faster— he knew to go to the mat so when he did pass out, at least he wouldn’t injure himself.

One of those days, he came to the Black Widow frowning from above him.

He grumbled an intentionally incoherent sentence, not feeling like interacting. The redhead’s brows furrowed further. Unimpressed with his antics.

“Get a grip, Barnes, this self-pity schtick has to go. Here.” 

He felt more than saw the weight of a water bottle against his stomach. Almost snarled before remembering himself. It was a bit embarrassing. He sat up and grabbed at the water with resentment in what was meant to be one fluid movement but came out clumsy and sluggish. His head pounded, his vision clouded. Embarrassing. Begrudgingly, he unscrewed the water bottle and finished it in slow, measured drinks under Black Widow’s judging gaze.

Said redhead dropped to a crouch, eye level with him, frown unfurling, and even he could see the concern in her eyes and the unpleased twist of her lips.

“Barnes, look. I long ago forgave you for the scar you gave me, and I know that you hold yourself guilty for— don’t give me that look. You know you do. Anyway, the others wanted to stage an intervention— No, before you start, let me finish! They care about you. —No. I know that face. I’m going to ignore all your passive-aggressive expressions now, you petulant child— I know you don’t like to think much about what happened during— well, yes, I know you remember. Haven’t you ever stopped to think why the fifty-sixth floor stayed destroyed? Huh? Yeah! Thought you didn’t. I know you pay close attention to Tony, so I know you know he is prideful and a perfectionist. He wouldn’t leave a floor wrecked just because. And before you get angry. No, he didn’t tell anyone why he let it be. And I know for a fact that he turned off the cameras. I couldn’t find any trace of the feed for the floor, and I am Black Widow — it didn’t take me long to figure out he had forgiven you no matter how much he teases you. Yes, he was hurt, but he ultimately understood that it wasn’t a choice, and he cares in his own asshole way. He— We care about you, Barnes. And I know things have been awkward with Steve— since you tried to kill him and all--, but if you don’t see that he cherishes you, then you have been lying to yourself. And she cares, too! Did you know she has been accepting visitors? She’s about to be discharged to her own room tomorrow morning. She didn’t need to stay in the infirmary, but Tony worries, and I know you do too. So there is no reason to stay away from your friend— no rational reason. And it pains me to see hope bloom in her eyes once the door opens and how she tries to cover up its shatter when it’s not you. You two understand each other. You are best friends. Whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. We live together. She wears her heart on her sleeve. You just have to learn to read her tells. She will never outright say what she means to say. She will veil her true feelings with insults and sarcasm. Now take a shower and go to her, you big fucking idiot. You reek.” She sprang up in one smooth motion, leaving him with a fond stern look and scolded, all of which reminded him of his sister.

That was the longest she had ever spoken in front of him, even putting every interaction together. He didn’t have time to unpack everything, though. Bucky was left reeling, jaw clenched to prevent it from slacking open in shock. His breaths came in faster and faster. He missed you so much. He couldn’t stop thinking about having you in his arms, wanting you back there forever. But Black Widow was right. He reeked. 

His thoughts ran a mile a second, his body going through the motions without instruction. He went to his bathroom, showered, and did his night routine on autopilot. 

 It was late… you were most definitely sleeping. His every thought is hyper-focused on you. On the fact that you weren’t there, your absence was a heavy and loud presence in his heart.

Bucky stared at his bed, bones weary and freshly showered. He would lie to himself if he said he contemplated sleeping there and visiting you tomorrow. He needed you now— needed you always— But his need for you felt more pronounced at that moment. His body was tired, but it yearned to hold you more than it did sleep. He needed his nightly dose of you. And even then, that wouldn’t be enough; he needed you close, needed you in ways that had him blushing and running himself a cold shower. He shook his head, trying to lose memories of him jerking himself off at breakneck speed, to find some sort of release of the lustful torture he found himself in just by thinking about you— never mind breathing in your scent.

He threw himself on his bed. He tried to keep away, but truly, he did. But between the lands of consciousness and unconsciousness, he saw you. Screaming for him, crying out as you were tortured. He couldn’t take it. His heart pounded as he ran his fingers aggressively through his hair. 

He knew you deserved all that was good in the world, and that excluded him — but that didn’t calm down the tension in his body palpable through his teeth. Bucky tried to breathe in and think rationally, but his limbs moved on their own accord as if deciding for him. 

His mind was a passenger to his body as he was pulled by an invisible string holding his heart hostage, tethered to you, throughout the building to your door.

── ��˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You couldn’t sleep, or rather, you had been knocked out for a while, sleeping on and off, drifting between the blurred line of realistic nightmare and nonsensical reality, dozed in a wide array of medicine, and found yourself squirming at two a.m. in the morning. 

You were unable to move much. Your leg was elevated to aid your heavy sprain.

Your eyes were heavy, blinking slowly in the darkness. You were so uncomfortable and had to sit with one big fact. Squirmed with it. You wanted to see him. You distracted yourself from any other thoughts, from processing whatever the fuck happened in the warehouse, the new drops in the bucket of blood and death, with memories of his arms around yours. You had relished in life-giving away beneath your hands, just as they had relished in breaking your bones. You glared at your palms as if they would give you an answer to why you didn’t feel guilty. You had to kill your way out. No one was coming to save you. He would’ve. You could see it in his eyes. He was about to fight Captain America to get to you. You shivered, not knowing how to take it. He had been so relieved, and so had you.

Your inhale was shaky. You tried to think of him, but— your greatest fears had come true those long hours before you escaped. Half unconscious with pain, you thought you were back in Hydra. When you screamed in pain from the torture, you thought those nights with him had all been a nice dream. That the beautiful man with the sad blue eyes had been a hallucination. The cruel eyes from not too long ago blurred into those of your past, of older memories from Hydra. A variety of eyes, twin flames, mirrored each other with sadistic pleasure and glee. There was a twist in your gut that didn’t let you give up and told you there was a man with soulful eyes and a gorgeous smile waiting for you. Pure grit brought you back online, moving your body in ways you hadn’t since your Hydra days. Killed so many. You were scared that you didn’t care. Bucky was real, had hugged you so tight—

But an anxious, paranoid part of you still thought so.  You hadn’t seen him in days, and the rational part of you knew he was real, but a dark and needy side of you needed him here to believe it. A heavy sensation of being trapped grew in your body; your limbs, heavy and achy, impeded you from moving much. Frustration built in your chest, rising and rising. Your breaths came out fast and shallow. You didn’t know how to manage it, needed to move, needed him. 

A knock at the door dragged you from your haze. Hope failed to bloom in your chest. Too often, it had grown only for someone who wasn’t Jamie to enter the hospital room.

You couldn’t see through your distress. It was late, and you didn’t want to be bothered— not by anyone who wasn’t him. You slid a hand under your pillow, fingers curling around the grip of your knife. 

You knew those soft footsteps, familiar with them even in their uncertainty— you were dreaming. “Doll?” Oh, how you missed him.

You placed the knife on the bedside. “Jamie?” You weren’t able to keep the excitement and relief from your voice.

“I had a nightmare. I had to check for myself. I’ll let you sleep.” His voice was gruff, worried. Worried.

Yes, you were, in fact, dreaming a pain medication-induced nice dream. Your Jamie was proud. He would never— this was your dream where you could do whatever you wanted, and you wanted him around you. “Come here. There’s enough room for the both of us.”

Dream Jamie didn’t hesitate. The bed shifted with his weight. You flinched when you felt cold metal against you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I can move—”

You giggled softly.  The dark haze dissipates from your mind by his presence. “It’s alright, Jamie. You’re so cold. Get under the covers with me.” You yawned. Now that you weren’t in distress, your subconscious pulled you towards sleep—deeper sleep since you were already in the sandman’s territory.

There was an awkward shuffle as he got inside the covers.

You curled around the cold metal arm as best as you could with restricted movement. You yawned again. “G’night, Jamie. Try to get some sleep. We’re safe here; nothing can hurt us in my dream. I’m so glad to have you in my arms. I missed you so much. So happy you’re real and here, even if it is a dream, Jamie.” Your words murmured. You rubbed your face into his cotton shirt. The pounding of his heart lulled you to sleep.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You thought you were dreaming! Did you dream of him often? It didn’t matter. He would ponder this new revelation later; now, he would focus on your soft, pliant body against him and tiredness overtaking him.

Bucky’s consciousness came to him in phases, each more forceful than the last, crashing into him in waves. The first sensation he became aware of was warmth. His body relaxed against it. It was familiar, as he had dreamt of it. The next thing he noticed was that the warmth was tangible, had a soft give to it— he could feel it. He rolled his neck against foreign pillows… His eyes flew open, muscles tensing slightly with alarm. 

Your soft sleeping body cocooned his left side. It enveloped his usually cold metal arm— which was at that moment the same temperature as your body. He so badly wanted to give in again. Burrow into your warm, soft skin. He barely had time to overthink it. His groggy mind almost reached consciousness before a soft murmur from your lips brought his thoughts to heel.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, s’early Jamie, sleep.” You didn’t seem to care about him not being a product of REM. You curled up tighter around him. Your smile bigger than last night, cheek pressed against his metal arm. And never had he felt any semblance of gratefulness toward Stark. But the new arm sent feedback to his brain. A weapon of destruction cradled and enveloped softly by your body. Somehow, you trusted him. He felt less like a weapon with no agency and more like a person. He liked touching you with his metal arm. He knew that it was tainted, but your touch made it pure. Bucky acknowledged that he would’ve never gotten you here with him without that still-wrecked floor. Unwanted tears prickled in his eyes. Would he ever live up to this forgiveness?

He didn’t want to think anymore, so he followed the laced command in your sweet, sleepy voice, urging him back to dreamland and succumbing to his dreams.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The air around the two of you shifted after the one-person intervention. And yes, of course, the team noticed, but they chose to say nothing. They were glad that Natasha had gone in to talk to him by herself. Although she never did retell what happened, it seemed to work. And while they liked to tease Bucky— some billionaire philanthropists more than others— they were happy for him; he seemed a little calmer than before. Settled into himself. 

While he never directly came out and touched you in front of them. He started orbiting you blatantly. Taking a seat next to you during the rare shared meals. Glaring at anyone who dared take his spot next to you on the couch. Walking into a room and making his way to you. 

Two particular instances engraved themselves into the team members' minds who were lucky enough to behold it. 

The first event took place in the morning. It started like any other. You chit-chatted with Steve and Nat as you made two breakfast bagels. They might’ve thought you had woken up hungry that day were it not for the two cups of coffee you set in front of the plate holding the two halved bagels.

Tony tinkered with a toaster in the background, his eyes looking up slowly when Bucky walked in, fingers not stopping their ministrations on the machinery. 

And the team had been so wrong. Yes, Bucky had a strong disposition, but the way he always stared at you so intently was. It should have been obvious. It was like their eyes opened after the mission had gone wrong.  The man was so obviously besotted with you. 

It couldn’t be clearer as the usual dark storm cloud over him dissolved when his eyes found you. He strode toward you with one track mind. 

You spoke to him before your gaze found his as if sensing his presence. “Hey there, I just made you my favorite breakfast. Grab our plate. Here’s your coffee. Dark and joyless like you.” You turned to look at him with barely veiled glee.

Steve’s brows furrowed slightly, concerned. He used to make those kinds of jokes with his Bucky, but he didn’t know how this Bucky would react.

Tony’s eyes furrowed with concern—

Bucky huffed and pursed his lips. But his eyes. They were accustomed to his eyes being perpetually set in a glare. 

His gaze was soft, voice softer, “Doll… You know me so well.”

Your grin was dazzling, and you were the only one who missed the way his stare lingered a bit too long on your lips.

DOLL??? Oh, you guys were clearly fucking. Natasha smiled, amused, and raised an eyebrow at Steve. 

Steve gaped at Bucky, lost and forlorn. He had spent so long tiptoeing around the man who used to be his best friend. 

Bucky didn’t seem to care that there were other people in the kitchen; the man who didn’t show up for breakfast was long gone. You curled your fingers around the handle of the two coffee cups, concluding the chit-chat. He grabbed the plate with his metal fingers. Then, so slyly as if with half a mind, he reached out his right arm toward you, near your hips. His fingers slid inside the loop of your jeans and yanked you toward him.

You let out a surprised yelp and laughed. “Jamie! Careful. The coffee will spill!” You didn’t seem the least put off by his actions. 

They had no clue when it started, but somehow, in a few months, you had gotten through the broken and hurting Winter Soldier and got to Jamie. 

Jamie. Bucky never let Steve call him that. It was bittersweet. Your chattering voice faded as he dragged you out of the kitchen. It was then that he came to a conclusion. Bucky was a different man, and he wanted to get to know this version of him.

And they felt guilty. They had given a half-ass try to get to him, put off by his glower. You weren’t perturbed by his grumpiness or his mood swings. Letting him be silent whenever he got too in his head. Chatting to him about whatever until you eventually drew out a small smile perceptible in his usually clouded expression.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You had found yourself in the proud position of Bucky’s friend, closest and best — you did sleep in the same bed—yet you still felt like screaming in frustration. It wasn’t enough. You weren’t unhappy per se. You had him in your arms every night…Your cheek pressed against his warm, sturdy chest. The only thing between keeping your skin from his was a thin, flimsy shirt. And maybe it was wrong for you to, but you longed for more, to touch without restraint. Had feelings with more-than-friends connotations. Not that you had many real friends before you were recruited here. So, while you knew there was a difference between platonic and romantic love. You tried fooling yourself into thinking it was platonic. But you wouldn’t go and kill around 15 people for just about anyone, and it hurt. You wanted him to see you the same way you did him. Rare nights were you holding him instead of the more common inverse. 

You’d scrape your fingernails softly through his scalp. Hope would make your heart full, inflating it with every hum of pleasure he let out in his sleep. But then he’d wake up shy and closed off, cheeks red with what you perceived as embarrassment and your heart would collapse once again, hope seeping out and leaving acid in its wake.

But he’d do certain things that would make your heart race, exhilarated and frustrated, leaving you reeling and confused.

Your feelings grew despite your protests, so you kept them locked in nice and tight, hidden even from yourself, for as long as possible. 

You were full to the brim with tension, and one particular instance made you lose it, the container breaking with pressure and spilling all over the place. 

It went like so. It was early afternoon, and sunlight spilled from the high windows of the tower, casting a warm glow on the room. 

Natasha was telling you about these two guys; they invited her and you to a double date. You were certain in your decision not to go. The man you’d be paired up with was the same one who frequented the bar with the team; he had brown eyes and a sleazy smile. Nothing like your Jamie.

You were doubling down on your decision when he walked in.

“Hello, Doll, Nat.” His greeting was gruff, but a few months ago, you would’ve thought him possessed.

Natasha’s eyes glinted with mischief and calculation. She gave you a feral grin before turning around, her expression slipping easily into neutrality. “Bucky, it’s so good that you’re here. You can help me convince her to go out with me.”

Jamie cocked his head, expression unreadable. “Sounds fun, Doll; you need a girl’s night.”

This was it! The perfect opportunity to gauge his reaction to you going out with someone else! “It’s a double date with the guys from communication.” You deliberately omitted the part where you didn’t want to go, wanting to push a grand reaction. —It never came.

You saw his full body tense for a moment, and for a second, your heart soared… only to crash instantly when he gave you a terse smile. His voice was disappointingly steady, “Why don’t you want to go?”

You knew your body was overreacting, knew you were blowing it out of proportion, but your heart shriveled nonetheless. You tried still, but you couldn’t swallow down the frustration. Try as you did. “I like my men a little bit older…” Your mouth answered for you, giving him a cheeky grin. 

He turned his full attention toward you, and your body viscerally recoiled from the look in his eyes. An angry and resentful glint in his eyes. So familiar—how he used to stare at you before the first meeting at two a.m.

“You should go.” His words were final, a command. 

You didn’t understand, and you almost sobbed then. You prided yourself in being able to count the number of times you had cried on one hand. A chasm was growing between you, distance expanding with every word. He didn’t want you that way. Pinche ilusa! How could he ever want you that way? You snarled instead of crying, “Alright, I will, but don’t expect me here at two in the morning.”

His smile was bitter and mean. “I won’t.” 

Your returning smile was filled with spite. Anger bubbling in your throat, you saw red. “Pinche pendejo, deveras.”  (Such a fucking prick) It hurt to smile. You didn’t even want to think about the last time you used your Spanish. But his hardened eyes and clenched jaw brought out your most impulsive sides. 

Beside you, Nat and Bucky tensed. You lifted your downward gaze toward them. Their heads were cocked to the side, assessing… You’d never slipped into your native tongue.

You took a deep breath before speaking, “I’m going to get ready, Nat! See you at eight!” Smiled at them both before prancing to the elevator, assuming a mask of joy, heart sunken in.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The elevator doors closed in front of you, taking you from him. The Winter Soldier’s gaze lingered on the spot where you’d disappeared, his eyes burning with a mix of longing and frustration before snapping toward his adversary.

The soldier was full of rage. Flowers had bloomed through the cracks in his stone heart only to wilt because of her.

The redheaded sensed the obvious danger and spoke in a language the soldier didn’t understand. He understood her disappointment with him, which displeased the soldier.

“говорить демон.” The soldier growled, beckoning the demon to speak, try to save herself. 

She had been a friend…The redheaded demon responded in his language. “You were taking too long, and I couldn’t take any more of her sulking… So speak up or forever hold your peace, soldier. You don’t get to wallow in self-pity and watch life passing you by, cursing time for moving on and not standing still. You can’t unwind the clock, soldier. You can only go forward… So decide carefully before it’s too late.”

Bucky couldn’t breathe, bereft of oxygen. What had he done? Had the soldier really come back because of you? The threat of losing you?

He somehow found himself in his room. He didn’t quite remember how he got there. His brain was a haze of frustration and defeat.

His room felt wrong, empty, and cold. He didn’t even approach his bed, knowing how that whole schtick would go. So Bucky paced and paced, his mind running around in circles. 

And what was that whole thing about liking older men? How was he supposed to take it? 

He knew he had fucked up. But he wasn’t about to go crash your date… So he went to his training room. Came back to the land of the living hours later, an unknown familiar face framed by gold hair staring down at him. Warmth pressed against his mouth, and he drank greedily.

“… can’t keep hurting yourself like this, Buck.”

Bucky groaned in response and in acknowledgment. Looked at his friend’s concerned eyes. His chest ached with nostalgia, love, regret… everything. “That’s my line, punk.” His voice came out unsteady.

The ground moved underneath him, yanked by his metal arm toward Steve into a tight hug. Bucky’s arms hovered uncertainly for a moment, and he could feel Steve’s large body shake against him. So he hugged his friend back. He had been neglecting Steve.

“Yeah, yeah, alright, Stevie, it’s alright.” His voice was fond. He was yanked once again. Twin grips on his shoulders shook him with more force than merited. 

“No, you stupid idiot! It’s not alright…” Steve looked like he wanted to say more for a moment, but he knew how Bucky was, so he kept in his spiel and sighed dramatically. “Come on, get some food in your poor body.”

Steve tried to help Bucky walk, which ended up with Captain America being whacked upside down. The blonde turned to Bucky with a fake offense, instead deciding to drag him to the kitchen by force. Oh, how things changed…

Steve had changed…he managed to beat Bucky in a stare-down. Even in his forties after the serum,   that only happened once in a blue moon. So Bucky found himself eating a sandwich and a big glass of electrolytes with resentment. His leg bounced with vigor. 

He kept his eyes on his plate, avoiding Steve’s too-observant eyes, eyes that had known him since childhood.

As soon as the last bite had been swallowed, Bucky looked up. Only to regret it instantly. Steve had a resolved expression. A glint in his eyes that told him to run. So he did. He was not ready for whatever conversation he wanted to have.

“Where’s Banner?” He pushed off the table in a harsh, sudden movement.

Steve’s face fell, confused and hurt. “Huh?”

“I need a cigarette.”

He got furrowed brows and a cocked head in response.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

A few blocks away, your leg bounced anxiously. Unbeknownst to you, mirroring the person who caused your stress.

You sat across from Nat, your date an uncomfortable breath away.  The tension between you was palpable as you struggled to make small talk with him. Thigh pressed to bouncing thigh. You wanted to turn pleading eyes to Nat. And for what? You had come here out of your own volition. Fuck. You needed a smoke. You tried to convince yourself you wanted to be here. If he didn’t want you, you deserved someone who did.

A meaty hand slid against your bare skin. Ala mierda… Yeah, no… Abort.

“Calm down, baby… you are all… amped up… how about we go outside and—”

“That’s a good idea.” 

You got a sleazy grin and a flash of eerily perfect teeth. His were charmingly imperfect; he wouldn’t call you baby. He would call you doll….

“I am going outside by myself. I need a smoke. Besides— I left my lighter at home.”

“I-”

“No, thank you. Sorry, Nat.” You flashed your not-so-sorry gaze toward her. 

She was amused. “Go! by all means. I’ll get the check.” She moved her hand, shooing you off.

A grip on your arm stopped you. “Don’t tell me it’s because of that creepy guy with murder in his eyes.”

You shivered, giddy with pleasure. It was too obvious of a response for it to fly over your date’s head.

“It is! He stares at you like you hurt him. Like he wants to tie you up in his bed and never let you leave!”

Your wicked grin was enough for him to let you go with a huff of disgust. You didn’t care, kissing Nat’s cheek. “Goodbye, you evil woman.” 

She spanked your ass, sending you off. You turned one last time toward her, grinning. Your smiles reflect glee and mirth.

You walked around the city for a while. Savoring being able to do so without recrimination. 

You weren’t delusional; you should’ve known better. Yet you were so blinded by self-doubt that you closed your eyes.

Bucky wasn’t loud with his emotions, ever. He swallowed them whole, drowned in them. He was too prideful and scared of being hurt, even if he wanted you. Countless sleepless nights and nights where it was avoided deliberately to see each other told of a man who was interested in you in some capacity.

You weren’t dumb. You just chose to ignore the evidence. Turning a blind eye to the staggering difference in how he spoke to you versus anyone else. He gave you preferential treatment. You cuddled every night for fucks sake! And you doubted that he cared for you? He couldn’t sleep without you, and vice versa! 

You checked your phone. 2:03 A.M. What were you stalling for? 

You smiled all the way back to the tower.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The third time the elevator doors pinged, Bucky’s hope had worn out. Expecting Steve or Natasha. The latter had come from the double date alone. “I told you to leave me alone to— what had you called it?— wallow in self-pity and the consequences of my actions or whatever.” He raised a shaking hand, knuckles cracked and bleeding— he was embarrassed to admit he had succumbed to his baser needs and punched a wall out of frustration— taking a drag of a cigarette. It tasted radioactive… but it smelled like you. He coughed softly.

An achingly familiar laugh startled him from his stupor. He swerved around with wide eyes. A kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar… “What are you doing here? If you’re here to tell me about — I don’t want to hear it.” He grumbled. Yes, you were friends, but he really, really didn’t want to hear about you sleeping or even breathing in near another man. He took another drag of your cigarette. Filled his lungs with smoke, his blood with chemicals. Okay, yes. He got it now.

“You big, stupid man.” The candor of your voice dripped with irritation. You stomped toward him, heels clacking against the floor, and snatched the smoke from him in harsh movements.

He grunted in response, out of his depth, and turned his gaze toward the skyline. He was aware of your every movement. You took two drags and stomped a perfectly good half of a cigarette with your heel.

He turned to glare at you, giving you a once-over. Fucking helllll….. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Bucky needed to dump cold water on himself ASAP. He was reminded of the many, many long showers he had jerked off in before joining you in bed. They were always futile, super soldier refractory period, and your soft skin, and— you were wearing a mini skirt and a top that accentuated your tits. Bucky mentally clutched his 100-year-old pearls. His breath hitched. Eyes catching on thighs— THIGHS. And boobs—BOOBS!Before meeting your pleased predatory gaze. 

You took one step toward him. He took one step back.

“I’m going to ask you something. Please answer me honestly— Why don’t you want to hear about my date?”

“Why are you here and not with your date?” he ground out his non-answer.

“Why are your knuckles bleeding? Why are you smoking my cigarette?”

“Why are you here and not with your date?” He repeated, body tense, ready to pounce, touch, taste. You looked so beautiful. The soft night lights illuminate your tinted lips and glittery eyelids, bringing the color out of your iris.

“Well, I found myself seated next to him and thinking: Jamie wouldn’t say that— but you weren’t there. And he wasn’t you.”

When you advanced toward him this time, his feet stayed planted. You took your time advancing toward him. And you were taller now, easier to reach with those long heels. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed up against him.

His arousal grew to unavoidable levels. Pushing against your hip. “Fuck, doll. You can’t— I’m wrong for you, all messed up and angry. And from the forties…” His fingers clenched and unclenched on his sides. He was lacking in excuses to touch you. His limbs itched to hold you. Dig into you.

“Well, I hate to repeat myself, but I see I have to. I’ve told you I like my men a little bit older… And maybe I’m a bit messed up, too. Because seeing you all fucked up and angry…. Well, I wasn’t upset.”

“I can’t sleep without you. I dream of you, I—”

You smiled with glee, “I know; Natasha was all too pleased to explain to me the mechanics of ‘morning wood.’”

Bucky groaned in response. Letting his hands, metal and otherwise, slide against your hips. It was nothing like cuddling; his intentions were impure. They had always been, but he had not felt any past guilt over his arousal. Unashamed in his guilt, he felt no need to neglect his urges — unless you told him otherwise.

He could tell you had some snarky response in the makings. He wanted nothing more than to wipe that cocky grin off your face. You were gravely mistaken if you thought he would be taking the subservient route. At least right now, he needed to be in control, and you needed to trust him. Needed you. 

Your eyes glinted with snark, your mouth opening to tease. His hand coasted up your back to your nape, his fingers gliding into your hair to pull you toward him. Your eyes widened in surprise, pupils blown out. Good, you thought too much; he needed to make your brain shut up.

He held his breath as he leaned in, humming with satisfaction once your lips pressed against his. Your lips, so soft against his. He needed more. He gripped your hip, conscious of the strength in his metal arm. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you, but he did want to leave a mark. You gasped in pleasure. Your hands yanked on his hair, and he groaned against your lips.

He set his sights on a wall three paces away, pushing against you. So malleable under him, succumbing so easily to his ministrations, like putty under his hands. His blood sang with the escalating volume of your noises. With each step he took forward, you met with a step back. You gasped as your back met the wall.

“Jamie... please,” your voice was so whiny, so desperate, it made his cock hurt with arousal. Blood rushed in his ears; he needed more, needed you begging. Undone.

He yanked on the base of your hair with one hand, exposing your neck for him. He was oh so happy to kiss and lick your skin. You whined and shifted against him... sensitive. His other hand slid down your skirt until it met your skin. Groaning against your neck, he slid his hand up, finally reaching your perfect ass. He couldn’t feel any underwear... Fuck... he might’ve been from the forties, but he had internet access, and he could call a spade a spade, or in this case, a thong a thong. He yanked on the flimsy thing so it snapped back against your skin.

You whimpered and panted, eyes closed in bliss. He could feel your hips shift as if chasing after stimulation. And who was he to deny you?

He placed both hands just below your ass, lifting you up and pulling them apart, a silent command you gladly followed with a whine and a curse word in Spanish.

You locked your legs around his waist; his erection pressed against your warmth, and his soft cotton pants were doing nothing to help his desperation. He gave up on holding himself back when your lips met his once again, your hips jerking against him.

It was the best thing he had ever felt since... ever. His fingers spread on either side of your ass, your back supported by the wall. He was beyond words, and so were you.

His cotton pants were soaked with your arousal, hiding nothing. He could feel everything: your pussy open for his cock to grind on, and your underwear had twisted to the side. He lost all ability to think, his conscious motor skills deciding to go offline, the only movement he could do was jerking his hips. His lips opened to pant like a dog. It was your turn to kiss him, sloppy and uncoordinated, as he ground against you.

He had half a mind to be aware of his strength, but each time he tested the waters, pressing harder against you, you moaned louder. So it wasn’t long before he realized you could take all of him.

His body trembled with built-up tension. It felt like nothing he had ever experienced. His hands flexed and tightened on your ass, pressing you harder against him, making the friction so much sweeter. He chased the pleasure with a one-track mind, couldn’t think of anything but your scent, skin, taste – for years, he had felt numb, and you brought him back to life. He hadn’t thought he’d be able to feel such exquisite pleasure; it was you who had his hips jerking, dry humping like teenagers. He didn’t care.

Your fingers clawed at his back, nails scratching his skin; you had long ago stopped kissing him, opting instead for panting against his neck.

Pleasure built and built, mind-numbing. You were saying something... begging for him... He threw his head back and groaned as his pleasure crested, stars exploding behind his eyes; he couldn’t see...

His hips jerked with aftershocks, breaths harsh against your neck; his pants were soiled with his come and your arousal. Your legs slackened, dropping to the floor. Most of your body weight rested on the wall, the rest supported by his hands. He had two functioning brain cells, both reminding him of his selfishness.

You didn’t look displeased with him; your skirt was bunched up at the hips, and your top in disarray. Your eye makeup was a mess, and he loved that. Your panties were slid to the far side, showing off your glistening cunt.

His knees hit the floor before he even realized what he was doing. He felt your thighs shake against his skin as he leaned in to look closer. Your clit was swollen and dark. He leaned in to kiss, to suck. Fingers pressed against his face, pushing him away.

“S’ too sensitive,” your voice wavered.

Bucky furrowed his brows, looking up inquisitively at you.

“Came. Twice,” you clarified, tone shaky with satisfaction.  Your gaze followed his movements as he stood up to cradle your face, tilting your head to kiss you softly. He sucked on your teeth before stopping the kiss.

“Huh, didn’t notice. You felt too good. I went crazy. Too bad, though, I want to feel you come on my face and on my cock.”

You smiled, satisfied, a cat who finally got the cream. “Sure, later,” you muttered against him.

“Whenever you want, doll face,” he smiled down at you. You looked fucked all the way to next week, and he hadn’t even dicked you down yet. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”

You hummed, wrapping your arms around him in a silent request; he obliged happily, carrying you bridal-style to his room.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Jamie was so soft, so careful with you. Your head was hazy with the aftermath of pleasure. No orgasm in your past could hold a flame to the explosive bliss from the earlier encounter.

Your head was hazy as he led you to his bathroom, your mind too fucked out for processing his room. You complied with whichever way he tugged your limbs, sliding off your rumpled clothes until the only thing on your body were your high heels.

He knelt in front of you, his touch tender as if apologizing for moments ago when he ground on you without thought. His cool metal fingers skated up your calf, reaching up to support your knee as his other hand worked on the latch of your heels. He pressed a kiss to each ankle before standing up in front of you.

You blinked slowly, your eyes trained on him. He was still clothed. Why was he still clothed? Your gaze caught on the wet patch on his pants, outlining his half-hard dick. Praise super-soldier metabolism.

You planted your feet on the white marble floor, your arms stretching toward him, fingers curling into his shirt and yanking. “Off.”

He grinned softly – you would never, ever get enough of his smiles – before sliding his shirt off in one swift movement.

Your breath caught in your throat—fuck, he was beautiful.

“Beautiful Jamie,” you said, taking a step closer. You slid one hand up his chest, using the other to trace fingers along scar tissue. He was so… captivating, so utterly himself, that you felt like you were the only person in the world who got to see him like this. “Only for me, only I get to see you like this.” You turned to throw him a challenging glare.

“Doll, I wouldn’t have it any other way, and I don’t share either. Call me old-fashioned –”

“If I see you with another woman, James, I swear to God, I will break my killing streak. And all three of us will end up in a –” Rage had barely simmered from the image before he had yanked on your hips to pull you into another kiss.

“Easy there, Doll, there’s no one else,” his voice was so satisfied, an assured tinge to his candor, in a way you knew it only got for you. You were so fucking stupid for not noticing.

“Good,” you yanked on his pants. “So... super-soldier dick... how long can you go? I bet we can get Jamie Junior tired.”

He laughed loudly, the sound enough for you to shiver with pleasure. “Doll, I don’t think you could keep up with me; you’d pass out. You don’t understand how long I can go if it’s with you.”

“Well, surely you can keep count if I’m passed out... set a record.”

His laugh was disbelieving. “I don’t want to fuck you when you’re unconscious; I want you awake and making those sweet, delicious sounds.”

“Another time, then – take off your pants.”

“As you wish.”

You tried, you really did, to focus on cleaning yourself once you’d gotten inside the shower. But you didn’t fight the urge to slide your fingers into his scalp and help him wash his hair. Forcing him into a crouch to aid your reach and resting his face on your shoulder.

His touch was gentle, a silent decision to wash each other. He went first. You pressed your fingers, massaging the soap against his skin, fingers traveling lower, your eyes fixed on his cock. He was beautiful. Your fingers reached his hips; he was fully hard at that point, leaking. You couldn’t stop yourself; you had planned on teasing him, but his cock was too pretty, red and wet with pre-come. Your soap-slicked hands circled his cock... and damn, the groan that fell from his lips was unlike anything – the groans before had been rough, taking. This one was desperate, needing.

You took him in both hands, dragging your thumb against his leaking tip. He threw his head back and groaned, fingers digging into the skating over your waist.

You dragged your touch up and down his length, your eyes studying his every movement: his clenched jaw and tightened face. He was holding his sounds back; that wouldn’t do. You tightened your grip and fastened your pace – only to have his tight grip on your wrist halt your movements. His gaze was heavy on yours. “The next time I’m coming, I’m doing it inside you.”

Tension filled the air as he had his turn and took his time cleaning you. He was so clinical it was driving you insane. But you could tell he was restraining himself. His movements rushed; he had an end goal in mind.

You dried off quickly, and showering would prove futile with what you had in mind. The night was young; it was barely 3 A.M.

The anticipation was thick in each deep breath you took. As soon as you had crossed the doorway to his bedroom, you couldn’t restrain yourself. You turned toward him, but he beat you to the first move, yanking on your arm and throwing you over his shoulder; you laughed as he spanked your ass.

Your body was airborne the next moment before your back bounced softly on his bed.

You leaned on your shoulders, breasts heaving with each breath, thighs open.

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted you, how long... I thought I was going to go crazy with how much I needed you,” he said, crawling on top of you. Kissing you once chastely, your breath hitching. You were out of your depth; this was a completely new situation, and you loved every second. His featherlight kisses peppered over your jaw, below your ear, along your neck – your body twisted and turned – over your collarbone, down... “You’re so beautiful, doll— I had to restrain myself. You deserve worship.” His gruff voice was all the warning you got before he latched on to a nipple and sucked, cool metal fingers rolling your neglected nipple between his fingers, awakening erogenous zones that made their debut with a bang.

“Ala puta, mierda..." This bliss was unlike anything. Your hips jerked, your cunt pounded with need. Warm fingers slid your pussy open, circling your clit. You could feel every nerve sing with pleasure. Your toes curled, the balls of your feet pressing down against the bed.

He slid one finger into your cunt, and your whole body jerked in response. “Ala madre – ala madreeee!" Your head lolled, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You couldn’t form coherent thought; your brain decided to go offline.

Pleasure built and built, still sensitive from the past two orgasms. Just when you found yourself at the precipice, you were left bereft of pleasure, cut off from his touch. You looked at him with betrayal.

“No need for that, Dollface— you’ll come soon. I want it to be on my cock— give me a second I’m going to get a condo –”

“NO!” You wanted to feel him, and you wanted him inside you now.

“All right, Doll, and while I would love to put a baby inside you, I’m not sure I’m ready to share you yet –”

“I’m on birth control! I’m clean; I haven’t – in years.” Your voice was desperate. He smiled slowly at the neediness in your tone.

He shut you up with a kiss, fingers digging into the soft of your thighs, holding you open for him.

You felt yourself lose clarity, tears streaming down your face. You needed his cock inside you now.

You didn’t have to wait long; soon enough, he pressed his tip inside you. He was big... You babbled and pleaded for more to no avail. His fingers traced your skin, grounding you, as he slid in inch by delicious inch until he was fully sheathed. Your body writhed under him with pleasure. It was a tight fit, bordering on a little bit painful. The slight pinch only made the feelings more heightened as your cunt pulsed around him.

You tried to beg him to “move,” but none of the languages in your repertoire seemed to be available. So you were left a whining mess. He got the message. Felt his cock slide out of you only to slam into you so hard you saw stars. You could feel the exact moment he lost control and went feral and pussy-drunk. His thrusts were severe and hard, thrusting himself until your pelvises slammed together, the sound of your skin meeting his echoing through the room.

You were crying out, nails searching for pleasure on his back.

It didn’t take long for your pleasure to peak; it ebbed and rose in waves. You weren’t sure where your orgasm ended, and another one began. Had started to come down only to have him pinch your clit and –

It was so good; you took everything he gave you greedily, you had been fulfilled a while ago, and your needs were met ages ago. You were there for him to fuck however many times he wanted—  drenched with your arousal and his come. His hips would stutter, and you’d feel a rush of his come, warm and drenching you. He’d slow down for a few moments, making you think it was over, hips sputtering softly inside you. He’d kiss your skin softly in apology and harden inside you again.

He made good on his promise. Once you were close to passing out, he stopped.

Your full body shook as he cleaned you with warm towels, your mind unresponsive as he moved your limbs softly to slide on one of his hoodies and boxer briefs.

You were halfway to dreamland when he wrapped his arms around you, the room reeking of sex.

“… doll... Mine... Love... Love you...” His voice was soft and barely processed as you fell asleep in his arms.

Did process enough for you to reply a sleepy, “Love you more.”

Please remember to leave your kind thoughts in the comments (they fuel me), and if you enjoyed support with reblogs, ok thanks for reading love ya hope you enjoyed 🫶🏻!!!!

[synthetickitsune]

may i please request florist!san who secretly likes a regular at his flower shop, then he learns that she finally recently broke up with her ex so he does all kinds of things to cheer her up like slipping in cute notes or chocolates in the flowers she buys and to also maybe shoot his shot 🥹💕

thank youuu and no need to rush! please do take all the time you need 🫶

San (ATZ) | Flower Shop AU + hidden notes fluff | 0.9k | gn!reader

The change wasn’t immediately recognizable for what it truly was. 

You might’ve missed a few weeks, which was concerning, but San understood that life happens and sometimes there’s just not enough time, money, or even energy to come to the flower shop, to keep the house looking pretty. 

And of course he spent the better part of those weeks worried if you’ll ever show up again.

Some little part of him hoped that you won’t - the unselfish one, the one that only cared about your happiness as he tends to care about all strangers that come to his shop. If you never come again, then perhaps your manchild of a boyfriend has finally grown into a full fledged man and started buying you flowers like you deserve instead of leaving you to do it yourself.

It was just one of the few pieces of information he got from the limited amount of small conversations you had. Your boyfriend would give you a couple bucks and tell you to go buy yourself some red roses. An exact amount that would in no universe be covered by the money he gave you. Truly, San wonders why you bothered with that guy. 

You deserve better. You deserve someone like him - but that��s only what the selfish part of his heart keeps telling him.

Things are different now, though. Something changed. You’re back to getting flowers, but they’re not roses anymore, and the bouquets are smaller. They also suit you more. You seem genuinely happy getting them.

San feels torn about it, although he’s mostly curious.

Until one day he sees your phone light up just as you’re about to pay, a name briefly flashing on the screen. You decline the call with lips pressed into a thin line. It’s not the time to be nosy, it’s not his place to ask-

“Is everything alright?” he asks carefully, then upon meeting your eyes he panics, “It’s just you seemed upset and you’ve been missing before…”

He’s just making it worse, he knows, but he hopes you can just take it as him being concerned about his business and not creepy. You study his face for a moment before sighing.

“We broke up,” you say simply, “And he keeps calling so that’s a little annoying.”

“Oh,” is all he can say.

And oh is all he can think for the rest of the day. Week, actually. And then he gets it together.

‘Together’ in a way that is perhaps concerning in its own way.

It might be too much - it is too much and wholly inappropriate. But San feels like a madman on a mission, hyping himself before the final stretch as he looks at the handful of notes and another small pile of envelopes.

The notes should be fine - they’re just generic words of encouragement, some may be a little too sweet for strangers, but not too much. The envelopes, well, they hold his heart. He must be in his right mind still if he thought to start with the notes and see how you accept them.

…And that doesn’t apply anymore weeks later when he’s stealthily slipping the first envelope into the bouquet before wrapping it for you. His heart is about to burst and you’re looking at him with concern. His hands are shaking, but at least you only noticed now. 

“Are you alright?” you ask, brows furrowed.

“Yeah, of course,” he smiles. It’s easy to make it genuine. 

“I…” you hesitate and he leans closer, nodding at you to continue, “I know I never said anything, but I wanted to thank you for the notes. I mean, you probably noticed I started coming in more. They just really helped me get through the hard times.”

He did notice. He also noticed you slowly opening up, lingering, gracing him with short conversation each time.

“I’m glad,” he says and he means it. Even if nothing comes out of this, making you happy is enough.

“So I was wondering, would you like to go on a date with me?” you bite your lip, “If you’re okay with going slow-”

“Yes,” he interrupts before you can change your mind. He already saw you spiral into overthinking many times, he’s not gonna do it today. “Absolutely. Just, uh, could you give that back to me?”

He points to the wrapped flowers in your hands. You look at him with a suspicion. “Why?”

“I don’t want to embarrass myself and make you change your mind, please?” he begs. Suddenly he can’t remember what’s written in the short letter. He only knows it’s sappy and pathetic.

“Is your number there?” you chuckle.

“Among other things,” he admits. For once he doesn’t like the way your smile grows bigger.

“Then if I like the other things I will text you,” you seem so satisfied with yourself, San is in love - and shambles, “If not, I’ll come here again and pretend I didn’t see anything. You can ask me on the date again if the note doesn’t work.”

That’s not the issue, the note isn’t asking you out, he wants to say, but you’re already turned away from him and walking out. He can’t speak, his tongue feels too heavy and his mind is blank. Slowly, he feels a smile stretching his lips against his will.

Maybe you like losers, he hopes.

[madhatterbri]

Wrong Guy, Right Savior | D.P.

Summary: Or OC didn’t want to spend Valentine’s Day alone. She ends up on a date with a guy she met on a dating app. He’s terrible. She secretly messages for help. Like Rhea or Finn. But instead Damian shows up because he’s been in love with her for forever.

Requested by: @teamchasez

Damian Priest Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @terrortwinunicorn @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @hotwheels1108 @new-zealand-chic @magicalbuttertarts @missbmc94 @surdelcielo @hodgepodge-musings

Lena couldn't believe the guy sitting across the table from her. Her cheeks flushed at how angry he made her. The man was a walking example of a red flag. She cursed herself for ever agreeing to go out with this man. She only agreed to a date because she didn't want to be alone for Valentine's Day. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she would go on a date with this type of guy.

He was thirty minutes late to their date. She wouldn't have minded if he had let her know that he was going to be late. He sat down like nothing was wrong and immediately started to talk about himself. Whenever she was given the opportunity to speak, he would scroll on his phone and simply nod or say uh huh. The wait staff took pity on her. They came by frequently to make sure they were okay. Except, they usually focused on her. After the third time of checking on them in five minutes, the man snapped at them. Now the wait staff came once in the past thirty minutes. This wasn't even the worst part.

"Hey, D, stop the movie," Rhea sighed and grabbed her phone from the coffee table.

The final straw came when he started to compare her to his ex-girlfriend. Her mouth dropped in shock as he mentioned her split ends and the fact that she could afford to lose a couple of pounds. Politely excusing herself when she picked up the phone, she knew she had to text one of her best friends for help.

💞

Damian paused the movie and looked at her. "It is just Bloody Valentine. You wanted to watch this, remember? No chick flicks only blood and horror."

Rhea rolled her eyes as her eyes swam through her cellphone screen. A look of concern on her face. "The bloody movie isn't it. We have scarier problem going on."

"Buddy won't be able to make it tomorrow?" Her best friend asked. Buddy is Rhea's husband. A snow storm kept him away for longer than expected. The two of them found themselves alone on Valentine's Day and decided to meet up for a movie night.

Damian felt himself tense as Rhea listed some of the things Lena's date was telling her. The list went on and on from her teeth, to her clothes, to her personality. He had to be the one to save her to make her see that he had been there all along.

"Worse, poor Lena is on a date with a jackass," Rhea answered. She sighed and started to text her friend that she would be on the way to get her out of there. "I am going to go save her. The guy started comparing her to his ex."

"I'll go," Damian spoke.

Rhea gave him a side eye. "You finally going to admit that you love her?"

Damian felt the butterflies in his stomach. She always had that effect on him. There was something about her that made him feel giddy on the inside. "I think I am, yeah."

💞

Lena checked her phone. Finn couldn't make it since he was out on the town with his wife. Rhea insisted that she was on the way, but that was twenty minutes ago. The date was getting worse by the second. She needed someone, anyone to get her out of there. When all hope felt lost, she perked up at seeing a familiar face. Damian.

Her savior locked eyes on her from across the busy restaurant. He maneuvered his way through the busy crowd. A couple of times, he excused himself from bumping into a worker or guest. He stopped at the middle of the table.

"Lena, it's Valentine's Day, and I find out you are cheating on me like this?" Damian asked.

Her mouth dropped open in shock. The handsome man stood before her in sunglasses and an all white suit. She had a crush on him for ages. Now, he was accusing her of cheating on him in front of everyone. "I-this isn't what it looks like, darling, I thought you wouldn't be home from work until tomorrow night."

He spread out his arms and waved his hands up and down. "You got the whole meal right here, baby. If you are going to cheat on me, at least do it with someone better looking than this loser."

Her date stood up as if to say something or fight. Damian stepped closer to him. He easily towered over him at 6'5. The tinier man smiled and sat down slowly.

"I'm sorry, love, it won't happen again."

"Go wait out by my car. I will be out there momentarily."

Lena scurried towards the exit door. Her heart pounded in her chest at the sight of freedom. She had no idea that Damian was threatening the guy if he ever texted her again. His voice raised slightly at the man's insults about her looks. When the manager threatened to call the police, he left to meet Lena at his car.

💞

"Thank you, D, I just didn't want to be alone for Valentine's Day, and he wasn't this bad over the phone," she admitted. Her hands ran down her face. This was definitely going to be an ice breaker to tell her therapist.

"You wouldn't have been alone. I-," Damian pointed out.

"I know. You and Rhea were having a movie night, but it's Valentine's Day. I haven't been alone on this day in forever," she explained.

Damian shook his head. "You wouldn't have been alone because I would have been your date."

Lena's face flushed. She bit her lip nervously and looked at him. "Do you mean that?"

"The night is still young. Why don't you and I find a little quiet spot and talk?"

She grinned widely. "That sounds like the perfect date."

[ramp-it-up]

The Gentleman Returns

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Veterinarian!Reader

Summary: Henry comes back. Can he keep his composure around you?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Explicit description of graphic sex. P orn with just a little bit of plot. Read at your own risk.  Flashbacks, Facetime s ex, long distance romance, Angst, pining, flirting, arguing, reader insecurity, wagering, brat behavior, dirty talk, size kink, or al s ex, raw p in v (wrap before you tap),  b reeding kink, pain kink, m asturbation,o ral sex (f recieving) Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is part two of Doctor and Mr. Cavill. Let me know if you liked it!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

“I am in control. I am not a man possessed. I am not an animal.”

Henry repeated it to himself as he prepared for his morning cardio run down, which just happened to be 3.5 miles down Route 60 to your house. He decided that running would serve two purposes: One, to round out his morning exercise, and two, to calm him down. 

It had been a long two weeks away. 

You were constantly on Henry’s mind and it took all of his acting skills to attend to the matters that took him home to Great Britain. But he was finally back in your town, which happened to be the location of his latest film role, and he was focused on letting you know that he didn’t think of you as just a good time in America. 

Henry knew that you thought he just wanted to have his way with you. The truth was that he felt for you deeply, and he didn’t quite know how to tell you. Things had gone much farther and faster than he ever imagined they would.

That’s why Henry was determined to be a gentleman today.

He’d stop by and say hello, collect Kal, ask you out on a date, and leave you intact like the lady you are. And then, maybe later, perhaps…. His heart rate escalated as he decided that he wouldn’t just grab you and take you up to your bed and fuck your brains out. 

No.

Absolutely not. 

Henry shook his head and smiled as he started the 5K run to your house. 

He’d landed the night before, and you both agreed that he needed to rest before he was in charge of Kal again. He slept, and then bounded out at 5 am the next morning to train and also to tame the boner that he’d awakened with for the past fortnight.

Henry’s head was in the clouds and he barely registered any exertion on the road to your place; he just daydreamed about led him to this point.

-------

Two weeks earlier...

Good morning Doctor. How are you?

The text was sent at 7:43 am, as soon as he touched down at JFK. Henry found that he had no qualms about looking desperate for you, because he actually was. 

Henry was surprised when you responded so promptly this early in the morning, but he was pleased.

Good morning Mr. Cavill. I’m a little sore. Fed the animals and am now taking a nice, hot bath.

Henry was concerned as he shouldered his backpack and walked down the jet bridge to the car area for his service. He was stopped for an autograph by someone who recognized him despite his baseball cap and mask, and as such, he didn't have time to really think when he responded.

Oh no! Did you lift too much feed? You really must lift heavy weights properly.

Henry’s brow was furrowed as he thought of you injured. You chuckled at Henry’s cluelessness. 

You’re carrying the weight that did the damage.

It took a second for the lightbulb to go off in Henry’s head, and when it did, he groaned, remembering how tight you’d been around him, but then he frowned again. He dialed you as soon as he was in the SUV with the door closed. 

You stared at your phone, not believing that he was facetiming you. After hesitating for just a moment, you answered.

“Hello?”

Henry peered at you through the screen then smiled, bringing the sun into your world.

“Hullo.”

You smiled back and bit your lip and Henry watched your mouth turn into a little pout. Damn, he was a goner. 

“Are you okay?”

His voice was laced with a sexy tone that sent a tingle down your spine. You could swear that your title had now become a term of endearment instead of a joke. Your head was spinning with desire, need and a little uncertainty. 

“I am perfectly fine.”

You certainly looked fit, Henry thought. And then he spied the bruise on your lip.

“What happened to your mouth?”

Henry looked angry, and your heart beat faster, thinking of how attractive he was when the dark clouds entered his eyes.

“… I split my lip when I… “ 

You looked down, eyelashes fanning your heated cheeks. What came next out of your mouth was a low and husky, but perfectly clear, whisper.

“I split my lip on you.”

Even in the bath, you grew moist at the memory of trying to accommodate Henry’s girth the night before. The slight pain of your bruised lip was forgotten the night before when you’d looked up at him through your lashes. 

Henry’s barely perceptible moan brought you back into the moment and made you rub your thighs together under the water. He took you in, an alluring vision all slippery and wet and beautiful. If he could actually fly like Superman back to your side, he would.

“Dear God. Do you know what you do to me?”

Henry intoned it deeply as he rubbed his jaw and licked his lips. 

“No, I don’t know, Mr. Cavill. Tell me?”

Henry let out a dark chuckle, double checking that the privacy partition was up in the car even though he had his airpods in.

“You’re an enchantress. I cant resist your allure, my dear Doctor, you’re captivating and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left.”

He watched you blush and had an idea. 

“I have to get out of this car soon, and I’ll have to make it to my room to take care of this evidence of your affect on me…” 

He panned down to his lap.

“Don’t…please.”

Henry's hand stilled on the ridge of his denimed dick. You’d commanded him with a whisper. He growled your name deep in his throat and you visibly shivered.

“I mean. It’s not for me to decide, but, if you were looking forward to us participating in activities like we did last night again…I’d rather you not…spill anything without me there to collect it. That is, if you could wait that long to cum again. To cum.. inside… me again..”

When you looked up at him again, you saw Henry’s eyes dilate as he bit his lip thinking of your wet heat. His cock jumped as debased images of what he wanted to do to you flooded his brain. He cleared his throat and his eyebrow rose as he bared his teeth in a feral smile to speak to you, his deep bass rumbling through you.

“You want me to save my seed to fill you up with, hmmm?”

You nodded, biting your lip, and your half closed eyes and whimpers only made him harder. He moved his hands to the leather seat of the suv, as he listened to the water moving around you as your free hand floated to your thigh. 

“How about I come back with my balls heavy with cum to pump you full of and let drip out of your pores. Could you handle that?”

You squirmed, your face full of desire. Henry felt like a man starved for your touch although he just left you not 4 hours earlier.

“Mmmmmm... I’d like that. Very, very much.”

Henry watched you throw your head back and licked his lips,trying to find the taste of you from last night.

“D’you need to be fucked again, Doctor?”

He was speaking softly, but resolutely now, his dulcet tones making you feel some kind of way.

“Ohhh, Henry… I’m still a little sore and swollen.”

Henry bit his lip. He didn’t want you to be discomforted, but the idea that he’d ruined you made him mad with need. He was panting as if he’d played a full rugby match and he was ready to burst inside his pants. 

“Are you? I should be there, to kiss that sweet little cunt. Soothe all her sore places with my tongue. D’you need that?” 

Henry stopped himself from calling you Love, but the pet name reverberated in his brain as he watched your beautiful face full of want for him.

“Yes Henry. Oh my goddd!”

You brought your hand up to your neck and Henry wished it was his.

“Lemme see those nipples, play with them for me, yeah?” 

You did as you were told and Henry watched as you filled your hands with yourself. He nearly cried at the sight. He instinctively rubbed his cock again, but he could control himself.

Couldn’t he?

With you he was not so sure, but there was no going back now, he had to see you through to your end.

“Feel that pussy for me, let her know how much I miss her already. Get in there, Love. Let me hear how much she aches for me.”

He’d let it slip. And he didn’t care. You didn't either. He could call you anything he wanted as long as he didn’t stop talking you through this need. 

“Oh… Hen-ry…”

Your mouth opened wider and your head was thrown back as your hands ventured further down your body.

“Are you circling that plucky little bud for me?”

“Y-yessssss.”

The stutter and the look on your face made him even bolder. Henry clenched his jaw and his fists to keep control.

“I’m not far from the hotel. Give me one before I get there. Be a good girl for me…you were so good last night…took my cock so well, although I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“I’m not…hurt so good Henry…”

Henry kept his eyes on you as you licked your lips and keened. You had him sweating 1500 miles away. 

“I wanted to fill you up and watch it drip out of you…”

“F-f-fuck…!” 

You were panting like a wild animal, and Henry swallowed the whine that was lodged in his throat with a growl. 

“Now stuff three of your pretty little fingers in that pretty little plump cunt. Cum for me. Give me something to dream about.”

You heard his fierce whisper and your eyes rolled as you tried to catch your breath. 

“H-h-henryyyy!”

Henry experienced three things: your beautiful face as you screamed with pleasure, his cock raging hard in the confines of his jeans, and his heart beating a mile a minute in his ears. Henry cursed under his breath and reached for the cold bottle of water provided by the car service. He took a swig, then closed it and put it on his forehead. 

Henry tried to collect himself as he listened to your breathing settle and watched you open your eyes slowly and smile shyly at him.

“Such a good girl for me. You alright?”

You hummed. 

“Yes, Mr. Cavill, Sir.”

Henry grinned. Maybe he had tamed the brat a little.

“Now. No more orgasms until I return.”

Henry the Dom was in full force. How was this your life? All you could do was smile at the fortune of having one of the sexiest men in the world lavish this attention on you. You decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

“Right.”

Henry cocked his brow at you. He hoped he looked hard. Because inside….Well, inside, he was all mush for you.

“What was that?”

“I mean, No Sir.”

Henry wanted to say a lot, but he needed to get on with his day; his first interview was in less than two hours.

“We will talk later, Doctor, before I board the redeye for London..”

“Of course, Mr. Cavill. Sir.”

Henry threw you a look as you winked and ended the call. He sighed and stepped out of the car, head full of you as he headed to the penthouse.

You climbed out of the bath and fell back into bed naked, dreaming of Henry in your arms.

—--

Three days later….

The picture you’d sent made Henry wild.  

It was an innocent picture of Kal, his snout resting on your bare thigh. It was exactly where he wanted to be.

“That rake. Trying to steal my girl,” he murmured to himself as he grinned at his phone.

“What’s that Hen?”

Henry looked up at the two men who were smirking at him over their brandies. Henry looked from Corey to Jamie’s face. He hadn’t heard a word they’d said.

“What?”

“You’ve not stared down at your lap and smiled like that since Year 7.” 

Corey knew Henry better than almost anyone.

“Who is it?”

Jamie was curious what had his mate so distracted. Henry’s head was in the clouds in between press for their movie that was being released, he was working out every spare minute, and he wasn’t looking at any of the lovely ladies that threw themselves at him, not even a little. 

Henry’s face lit up.

“I don’t even know where to begin. She’s… she’s amazing…”

Henry commenced to waxing poetic about you. 

When he finally took a breath, Corey asked, “Yeah, yeah.. But how does she look, lad?”

Henry grinned and flipped through the pictures that you’d sent him on request. He found one that was relatively tame, with you sitting ensconced in his sweatshirt and nothing else. All you could see was your freshly washed face, that smile, and those legs.

Corey whistled.

“There’s a looker!” 

He passed the phone to Jamie who looked at you and then up at Henry, who was beaming.

“That’s why you’ve been hitting the gym harder than usual. Working off that tension.”

Henry grinned.

“Yeah, she’s going to get it when I get back.”

Corey was quick to catch him.

“He’s saving himself? Oh shit. This is serious. When’s the wedding?”

Henry blanched.

“What?...No… we only just…”

“Henry. Did you notice the girl with the huge rack who’s walked by our table four times?”

Henry looked around the restaurant.

“Where? No…”

“She’s right there!”

Henry looked in the direction that Corey pointed.

“Her?” Henry laughed. “She’s… passable.”

Corey looked at Jamie and shook his head.

“You’re right, James. He’s gone. Raise a glass.”

Henry shook his head as Corey and James toasted and took a mockingly somber drink, then he clinked his own.

“Here’s to My Dear Doctor.”

“If she can tie you down, then cheers to Dr. Y/N!”

Henry shared a laugh with his friends.

“Now who wants to go on a run in the morning?”

—

Later that night:

Although it was after midnight for Henry, it was only after 7 where you were. But your insecurity permeated your conversation with him that night. You went on about his dating history and he railed against online gossip mongers. Finally, you said what you were really thinking.

“I am so not your type, Henry.”

Henry sighed.

“What are you on about?”

I’m a convenience while you’re in town. And you still think you want me because we’re practically sexting every moment of the day. I bet that if we didn’t talk until you had to come back, you’d forget all about me. You’ll find some beautiful English rose…”

“How much?”

“Hunh?” You were being thrown off of your rant.

“How much do you want to bet?”

“Henry….”

“We’ve got, what, 10 more days? 100 quid.”

You couldn’t believe him.

“You’re trying to make light of this. Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset Henry.”

“So you’re chicken?”

“I am NOT!” You huffed. “What is a ‘quid’? A pound? You’re betting me a hundred pounds?”

“I forgot how poor the dollar is. I’ll take it easy on you. 100 dollars US.”

“You have a deal Mr. Cavill.”

Henry grinned on the other end of the line. Your brat side would work to his advantage this time.

“Deal. No more phone calls. Just two texts a day. Good morning and good night.”

You were quiet a long time. Then you decided, if it was going to end, you should just go ahead and end it.

“Okay. Goodbye Henry.”

“See you soon, Doctor.”

—-----

Ten days after that conversation, you were feeding the sheep when Kal started barking and going crazy at the fence. You approached it and looked down the road to see Henry running toward you at an impressive pace.

Butterflies began to flutter in your belly. The last 10 days had sent you spiraling. Two texts a day were not enough. You missed Henry horribly, and you’d imagined him diddling half of Europe since you practically told him to. Well, you only had yourself to blame. You’d ruined a good thing, even if it were temporary.

You didn’t want to face him, but you had to give him his dog. You didn’t have much time prepare yourself because Henry’s time was good. He ran up and leaned on the fence as he greeted Kal. Then he looked up at you, hypnotizing you with those eyes and that smile of his. 

Damn, you’d missed his face.

Henry was unequivocally a goner. The sight of you made him light headed, the erratic nature of his heart not a good combination with the increase from running.

“Hello, Doctor. How are you?”

Henry smiling at you made you warm. It felt like you’d never been asked that question before and you wanted to tell him your life story, but you just said, “Fine. And you Mr. Cavill?”

Henry grinned at the formalities. You were still his incorrigible brat that he’d left in bed two weeks ago. 

His?

Yes, His, he decided as he watched you unlatch the gate enabling Kal’s attack. He laughed and rolled around in the grass with his pup and you watched fondly. You could get used to these two brutes. You tried to walk around them when Kal went after you too, tripping you up and causing you to fall onto Henry, straddling him as Kal barked excitedly beside you two. 

You looked into Henry’s eyes, feeling him beneath you. It wasn’t sexual, not quite, just familiar. Henry was being calm and his hands just rested on your sides as he grinned up at you. You wanted to hug him. But instead, you made to get up.

“S-sorry.”

“No problem at all, Doctor.”

You cleared your throat and stood up, placing your hands on your hips, grimacing at Henry, who was up now himself. His hair was haloed by the early morning sunlight, and he winked at you as he brushed himself off. Damn him and his perfect features.

“D’you want some water?”

Henry regarded you, solemn and intense, when a drop of sweet traveled from his hairline into his right eye. You felt like you were drooling as you watched his biceps flex as he wiped it away.

“You’ve read my mind.”

The timbre of his voice reminded you of that night on facetime, and your pulse quickened at the thought that you had indeed read his mind. You wanted him, and here he was acting like you were just acquaintances. He really had fooled around in Europe. You could have kicked yourself.

You turned and Henry followed you into your house, taking off his shoes and washing his hands as you did. You watched Henry gulp down the water and you kept your distance. Kal seemed content to give you both your space in the kitchen as he laid in the sunlight from the window in the dining room.

“Doctor, we need to talk.”

Your heart dropped. You knew it.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We talked already. You found someone else. Or had some random hookups. Just as I told you you would.”

Henry’s blood was starting to boil. He took a deep breath, but his voice still came out menacing.

“You are the most maddening woman.You don’t get to tell me what I want, or what I did or what I should do. Like you said, we don’t know each other that well. But I thought that we had an understanding, L/N…”

Now you were angry.

“What understanding? How can we have an understanding if we’ve never really talked. We just fucked. You were horny. I was there. We. Just. Fucked. That’s it. It was good. Now it is over.”

“Oh? It’s over is it? I’ve half a mind to turn you over my knee.”

You chucked your chin up at him like you were daring him.

Henry saw the glint in your eye and he knew what had to happen. Gentlemanly thoughts were out the window. He put the glass down and advanced on you.

You moved back and opened your mouth to reply, but what came out was a squeak. You closed it quickly

“That’s right, listen good, little mouse.”

He moved again and you stayed put.

“Yes. We fucked. We fucked and it was amazing. But we fucked because I’m insanely attracted to you in a myriad ways, not just because I wanted to fuck. You were right. I know how to smash and dash, Doctor, and this is not that.”

Henry paused to look into your eyes, to make sure you understood him. 

“I’m in awe of you. You’re a skilled professional, you’re kind, and gentle, and a nerd who loves to have a good time. You soothe me. You make me think and you make me go mad every time I think about how your body seems made for mine.”

You were inches apart, but he didn’t touch you. 

“I’m entirely and utterly smitten with you. And I’m afraid of the power you have over me Doctor. I’m supposed to behave as a gentleman, but you make it impossible.”

Then, he stepped back leaned up against your counter, running his hand through his curls. It was the counter where you first kissed. You smiled at him.

Henry eyed you warily and crossed his arms, showcasing his muscles and veins. You were dangerous. but he was going to be strong.

“What?”

“You mean that you didn’t get with anyone else when you were away?”

Henry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“No. Didn’t want to.”

He stood up straighter as you advanced on him now.

“This perfect specimen of a body?”

You pointed, just shy of touching him. Henry reached back and grabbed the counter to keep from grabbing you. 

You reached out and trailed your hand down his muscle shirt, stopping shy of the waistband of his shorts.

“And you’re willing to wait even longer?”

Henry cleared his throat.

“Yes.”

Henry’s voice broke and he caught your eye. At that moment, you knew your power.

“It’s just for you, Doctor. When you’re ready.”

You scoffed at him. And leaned up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 

“But this body is for the world, Mr. Cavill. After all, millions drool over it every day.”

Your lips brushed the shell of his ear, and Henry closed his eyes and suppressed a shiver. He gave in and reached for you, grabbing you and pulling your flush to him. He looked down, eyes sparkling.

“Maybe so, but how we feel pressed together is just between me and you.”

You looked into the softness of his eyes and you could tell he was sincere.

“But how can you know?”

“I just know that I know. I want to protect you, I want to comfort you… I want to...”

“Oh, Henry…”

You threw your arms around him and kissed him. He lay claim to your mouth again and after, he rested his forehead on yours, panting.

“I’m… I want to be a gentleman…Want to take you out. Wine…dine…”

You palmed him over his shorts and watched his eyes dilate.

“What if I take you out?”

Henry watched you lick your palm and reach into his sweats as he forgot to breathe.

“I- I …”   Henry looked down at what you were doing. “Careful…’

You looked up at him, determined now.

“I thought you were going to cum inside me and leak out of my pores.”

“Mmmmmmmmmother of god!” 

Henry clenched his jaw as he growled at you. 

“I do want to fuck you very badly, Doctor. But you deserve… to be treated….”

Henry’s voice faded away as you continued to stroke his rock hard length.

“It’s been 14 days. I deserve to be fucked. Hard. Need you ... please… Sir.”

You took his right hand and put it on your breast. He rolled your nipple through your shirt and then mirrored the gesture with his left. Henry had a brief thought that you were trying top him before his brain short circuited.

Before you knew it, you’d been spun around and your face was on the cool marble of your countertop. Henry pulled your leggings down to your ankles. You pulled one leg out and Henry hoisted it up on the counter. You leaned back and desperately grabbed at his curls.

“Please Henry, Give!”

He leaned over and whispered in your ear as his fingertips spread you wide. 

“Trust me Doctor, you will take. But first…”

Henry sank to his knees and whispered to your cunt.

“Been so long. Need to taste…mmmmmmm.”

You were pulled back onto Henry’s face as he buried his mouth into your wet crevasse. He hummed and smacked as if he were eating the best meal of his life. Henry certainly thought so. He destroyed your soul as he alternated fucking you with his tongue and licking you rudely throughout your entire crease.

After you came on his face, he took off your pants completely, and lifted you easily in his arms, walking a few feet to your couch.

Henry set you down face first before him, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“You’re a venus, my dear Doctor.”

Henry’s thick fingers moved from your knee digging into the couch cushions up your thigh to the wetness dripping there. Four fingers found your slick and swiped, while his thumb ghosted your puckered hole.

“Mhmmmmm. Henry…”

“So responsive f’me. Want to be everywhere all at once.”

Henry enjoyed the feeling of his cock slipping in your wetness, the way you moved to try and get him inside you. He moaned knowing how much you wanted him too. His hands moved up from your hips to find your nipples under the top you were wearing and your moves became more wanton. Henry became irritated at the confines of your shirt. He reached for the hem.

“Take this off…There we go.”

He pulled you to him, your cool back against his warm torso, and he trailed his hands up and down your body.

“‘ve wanted my hands on you ever since I left…”

“Me too, Mr. Cavill.”

You’d turned your head to whisper, and Henry’s mouth captured yours in a kiss. You wiggled your ass against the pounding organ that was wedged between your cheeks, and he reached down to grab your hip to still you.

“Want my cock?”

You shook your head.

“No. Need it.”

And with that, you bent down again and looked over your shoulder at him, arching your back.

Henry gazed down at your presented ass and turned his head to the side, admiring, as that eyebrow raised and made you that much wetter.

“Yesss…” His blue eyes met yours. “I believe that you do.”

You whimpered and dropped your head, watching from below as Henry grabbed his cock at the base, his fingers splayed out against his big balls as he lined up and breached you with his rude, wide, mushroom tip. 

“Let me…”

The stretch burned deliciously, and both of you grunted as Henry eased into you, his length and girth making you question reality again. 

“…Slide into this warm…”

“Oh, Henry! Feels so-”

He cut you off.

“Shit! Love how you take it.”

“Oh god!”

You were almost sobbing at how good it felt.

“I feel you inside me.”

“D’you feel it getting bigger?”

You could hear the grin in his voice. You nodded and sobbed, the feeling indescribable.

“Stretching you out. So, so good.”

“Uh unhhh uhmmmmm. Missed you Hen...ry!”

“Me, too, Love. Me....too!”

Henry was moaning behind you as he smoothly thrust in and out of you, making it so good that your buried your head into the pillow and drooled into it between your screams of: “Oh my goddd!”

“Mmmm just like that, take it all for me.”

He delivered a sound slap to your behind and you keened.

“Love it when you take it all.”

He smacked you again.

“D’you like my cock?” he demanded.

“Mmmmyeah hmmm, I love itttt!”

Henry moved his hand around to your clit and started manipulating it.Then, he moved your hand to your sensitive nub as you whimpered.

“Now take over for me. Circle that clit. Justttt like that.”

You did as you were told, your legs shaking.

“Ohhh oh my god, Henry!”

“Just like that. Good girl.”

Henry smacked your ass yet again.

“Now keep it up.”

The stimulation was getting to be too much. This man knew how to fuck all of you, not just your body, but your mind.

“Henry…” 

Your plaintive wail was almost too much for Henry. Yet he persisted.

“M’ gonna fuck you….”

Your wetness was making what was now happening sound obscene, and served to get you closer to the orgasm he hadn’t given you permission to have yet.

“Oh god!”

You wanted to pull your hand away, but you obeyed his command.

“There…”

Henry swiveled his hips so that your insides lit up like a christmas tree as he fucked you.

“Please…”

You couldn’t breathe, and you were beginning to feel a certain pressure in your pelvis. You whimpered again as Henry made you feel every nerve ending in your body.

“…Just…. there…”

Henry’s thrusts were controlled and steady, despite feeling your cunt clenching in waves around him as you tried in vain to stave off your end.

“Oh yeah I like that.” 

He’d leaned down, hot breath in your ear.

“Oh I feel it Henry.”

“God yeah. Me too. You like that, Doctor?”

“Oh Godddddd!”

Henry pulled you upright and you struggled to keep circling your clit as your hips sped up of their own volition. You used two hands as Henry squeezed your hips, holding on as you bounced up and down on his dick. His eyes were glued to your bouncing tits. 

“Oh shit! Just there…bounce like that, yeah.” 

Henry’s mouth descended and latched on, sucking your jugular as you fucked yourself on him. His hands kneaded your bouncing breasts. He was in heaven.

“Use me, Baby. Make yourself feel good.”

“You’re so fucking big….”

Henry grinned into your neck.

“Feel it Doctor…” 

Henry was blowing in your ear as he suckled on your lobe now. He bent you back over, placing his hand between your shoulder blades so you would move your hands and deliver the arch. You were relieved yet still desperate. Henry looked down and groaned.

“Look at that cream.”

The timbre of Henry’s voice and the slapping of skin on skin was more than you could bear.

“Henry… Please! Can I cum?”

The slapping intensified as Henry sped up and got sloppy, losing control finally.

“Cum… now Doctor…”

Henry stroked into you fiercely, prolonging your orgasm until your spasming channel forced him out of you.

You both exclaimed in disappointment, and Henry in laughed as he kissed your neck and plunged back inside you, fucking you even harder now.

“Thank you for that. I was about to spill everything inside you and this would be over. Gave me a bit of a breather. Now give me that arch again.”

He bent you over again.

“Just there. Oh yeah… Looka there…that arch…yesss. Love that arch.”

He crossed his arms to hold your hips still so that he could go even harder.

“Am I fucking you properly?”

You were drooling and your eyes were rolling; you barely registered his question. Henry slapped your ass.

“Oh. Yesssss! Fuck yesss. Cock is so hard…so big.”

“Oh, shit…sssssss!”

Henry hissed as he felt his cum crawl up from his balls. 

“I….ugh… Henry!!!... I’m cuming…”

“M…Me toooo!”

—-

You were the little spoon to Henry’s big as he held you on your couch, the plaid throw covering your nakedness. You stroked Henry’s arm as he held you close.

“Did you spend the entire two weeks thinking that up?”

Henry leaned over to look at you, smiled, and kissed your nose. Then he relaxed again.

“That was entirely off the cuff. You’re an inspiration. A muse.”

“A sexual muse, hunh.”

Henry pulled you closer to him. 

“So much more than sexually. You inspire me in so many areas.”

You looked back at him quizzically. He just grinned.

“Come, lets get cleaned up and get dressed. And give me ride over to my place, would you? We have a brunch reservation in… two hours at The Orangery. I’m taking you out on the town.”

“And you can pay, because you owe me a hundred dollars.”

You realized that it was put up or shut up time as Henry grinned at you.

——

If you liked it, reblog and let me know!

[chgridlock]

Fine. LN- pt 3.

Part. 2 here: https://www.tumblr.com/chgridlock/749389774256848896/fine-ln-pt-2

Y/n and Lando were childhood best friends, an inseparable duo who knew each other’s secrets like the back of their hand. But then came F1. Lando transformed into a playboy prince, his name synonymous with champagne showers and a different model on every arm. Models just like y/n, except for her. Disgusted, she distanced herself, the warmth of their friendship replaced by a biting cold. Y/n, chasing her own dreams, blossomed into a sough-after model, gracing the covers of magazines right under Lando’s nose, well, at least that’s what she assumed. In taught, Lando followed her religiously on social media, a secret admirer hidden behind a facade of arrogante.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, ex best friends, Lando being a dick sometimes.

As Lando drove away, a whirlwind of emotions churned writhing him. Irritation, concern, guilt, anger - they all battled for dominance, leaving him feeling utterly conflicted. He stole a final glance at your retreating figure, a frown etched on his face. Then, with a sigh, he turned his attention back to the road and pulled away before you reached your home.

He drove off, a forced nonchalance masking the turmoil within. He pretended not to care, the image of your angry face a constant presence in his mind. Just like when you two were kids and he did something to annoy you, he smiled at that image. Then a nagging worry gnawed at him. Did you make it home safely? Did you catch a cold from the relentless rain? He couldn’t shake the concern, a stark contrast to the anger he desperately clung to.

Arriving at his apartment, he parked the car and the silence was deafening. The absence of your bickering, the lack of your sharp retorts, it created a void he hadn’t anticipated. Did he miss you? That can’t be, no. But he couldn’t help but wonder if you were safe and sound, tucked away in your own apartment.

Curiosity, a persistent itch he coulnd’t ignore, finally won over his stubbornness. He picked up his phone, your name pulling him in like a magnet. He hesitated for a moment, the screen glowing accusingly before him. Finally, with a deep breath, he typed out a message:

“Did you get home safely…?”

The message sent, a nervous anticipation settled in his stomach. He knew his words, laced with a grudging concern, wouldn’t erase the sting of his earlier actions, but they were a start, a hesitant bridge built over the chasm he himself had created. Now, all he could do was wait, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic tap of his thumb against the phone screen, a silent drumbeat of his anxieties.

Your reply, when it finally arrived, was a sharp jab: “I thought you didn’t care?”

Annoyance flared, a predictable reaction to your accusatory tone. Yet, beneath it all, a flicker of something akin to satisfaction flickered. He knew you were safe, and that, for some reason, mattered more than he cared to admit.

He typed out a quickly reply, his fingers moving with uncharacteristic urgency.

“I don’t… but I just wanted to make sure that you got home safe. That’s all.”

He hit send, the simple message carrying the weight of unspoken emotions.

“That’s all,” he muttered to himself, the words barely audible in his head. All he wanted was to know you were okay, right? Nothing more than that, just a guy worrying about a girl he’d known for a long time, a friend. A friend who, in his head, he vehemently denied having any feelings for beyond platonic concern.

But the image of you, soaked to the bone and shivering in the rain, persisted in his mind. It was an image he couldn’t shake, a stark contrast to the annoyance he desperately clung to. A part of him, a traitorous part, yearned to pull you into his arms, to strip off your wet clothes and replace them with the warmth of his own body. To press his lips against your chilled skin, showering her entire body, that precious face, with kisses.

“What? No,” he shot back at the unwelcome thought, his cheeks flushing a faint pink. “Just worry, that’s it, I don’t even like her anymore.”

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue. He didn’t like you? The very thought was laughable. You enfuriated him, challenged him, drove him to the brink of madness with your stubbornness. But you also captivated him, your fiery spirit and sharp with a constant source of fascination.

He hated to admit it, but he cared. He cared deeply, and the thought of you being hurt, physically or emotionally, sent a tremor though him. He was a tangled mess of contradictions, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within him.

And as he waited for your reply, the silence stretched on, thick with unspoken desires and the dawning realization that this tempestuous dance between you was far from over.

Meanwhile, you lay on your couch, your body achy and your head throbbing. The rain-soaked walk home had taken its toll, and you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were coming down with something. A shiver ran down you spine as you sneezed into a tissue, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment.

The weight of your earlier stubbornness settled in like a lead weight. Maybe Lando was right. Maybe I should have swallowed my pride and accepted his help from the beginning. Now, the cold was seeping into your bones, each cough a testament to your foolishness.

A wave of self-loathing washed over you. Why couldn’t admit I was wrong? I mean, he deserves it for being a jerk and change into a man you didn’t even recognize. The image of Lando flashed in your mind, his perfectly tousled curls plastered to his forehead, his strong arms that could have held you safe from the rain, his grey eyes that seemed to see right through you, when he took your hand…

The picture of him behind the wheel of the McLaren, sent a strange pang through you. What is wrong with me? Here I am, miserable and sick, and all i could think about is how good he looked, even when soaked to the bone.

Frustrating bubbled within you. This wasn’t the time to be getting flustered over Lando. You needed to focus on getting better, on kicking this cold that your stubbornness had undoubtedly brought on. But a part of you, a tiny, traitorous part, couldn’t help but linger on the thought of him, his concern, his vulnerability.

Maybe, just maybe, you would send him another message. Not to be difficult, but to see if he was still worried. With a sigh, you decided to answer Lando.

“I feel sick so congratulations your wish came true,” you typed, a hint of sarcasm clinging to your words.

You hit send, the message hanging in the air like a challenge. You waited for his responde, your heart pounding in your chest. Why? A mix of amusement and apprehension bubbled within you.

“Seriously…? Are you really sick or are you just messing with me?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his worry. Despite their earlier argument,you knew that maybe deep down he cared about your well-being. Just like when both of you were kids.

“Do you think I would mess around with that? God,” you replied, exasperation coloring your voice.

Lando’s next message was filled with questions, his worry morphing into panic.

“Can you at least tell me how sick you are? Is it just a cold? Are you coughing?”

Your heart warmed at his concern. You knew you were being difficult, but you couldn’t help but enjoy the attention.

“Are you concerned now? You wished me this,” you pointed out, a flicker of amusement battling with the discomfort in your chest.

Lando groaned, reading your message. He tried to suppress the frustrated noises bubbling up within him.

“Don’t keep reminding me of something that I regret saying…” His fingers flew across the screen, his concern battling with his stubborn pride.

“But for real, how sick are you? Im worried…” He sent the message, the vulnerability in his words a stark contrast to the earlier bravado. He waited for your reply, the silence stretching into an eternity.

As Lando’s phone buzzed with your reply, he eagerly read your message, his heart pounding with a mix of worry and anticipation. “I have a fever I think,” your message finally arrived.

He imagined you curled up on your couch, your body achy and your head throbbing. A pang of guilt shot through him. A sure of protectiveness washed over him, a desire to be there for you, to hold and comfort you.

“How high is your fever?” He typed, his fingers flying across the screen, his concern evident in his hurried words. He felt helpless. His frustration grew with each passing second, the silence stretching into an eternity for your reply.

Finally, your message arrived, a simple “I don’t know…” hanging into the air like a confession of helplessness. Lando’s frustration intensified, his patience wearing thin. “Did you even try to take your temperature?” He asked, his tone laced with a hint of irritation.

“No,” you replied, your single word a testament to her stubbornness or perhaps your lack of self-care. Lando’s frustration bubbled over, threatening to spill into anger. Why you were being so irresponsible?

Lando remembered the countless times throughout their teenage years when she’d stubbornly deny being sick, even when her face was flushed and her body radiating heat. He’d be the one nagging her at school, begging her to go home with him, only to be met with her usual stubborn resistance. “She really is still the same”

He recalled the times he’d ditch his own plans to rush over to their parents house when she was too sick to get out of bed. He was the one who bring you the soup that your mom and him made together for you, he would bring movies and make bad jokes, anything to make you feel better. He’d sit by your bedside, patiently listening to your complaints and watching you drift off to sleep, a small smile playing on his lips.

A pang of longing shot through him as he reminisced about those days. He missed the easy friendship, the unspoken understanding you both shared. He missed being the one you turned to when you were feeling under the weather, the one who knew how to take care of you. He wanted to be there for you, to be the one tucking you into bed, making you laugh, and chasing away the discomfort of your illness. Right now he wished you would just let him take care of you, he wanted to be the hero in your time of need, to show you how much he cared, even if she never admitted it.

He took a deep breath trying to calm himself. He didn’t want to make you feel worse, but he couldn’t help but express his concern. “Do you have any meds?” He asked.

“I don’t think so, I’ll just take a bath,” you responded, your words a wave of exasperation through him.

“You’re just gonna take a bath right now…?“ he typed. He imagined himself there. Carefully helping her into the warm water, his hands brushing against your skin, sending shivers down his own spine. He could almost feel the steam rising, blurring the lines between concern and a simmering desire.

The though of caring for you in such an intimate way, sent a jolt through him. He forced himself to focus on the practicalities. “Fine. Don’t you need to take medicine for that fever…or eat something…?”

“I’ll sleep it’ll pass,” your message read.

“Oh yeah, just go ahead and sleep it off… without taking meds or anything…” he texted sarcastically.

He wanted to yell at you, to shake you until you understood the seriousness of the situation. Why couldn’t you just listen to him like before? “Please, y/n…” he muttered to himself.

He knew pushing you further wouldn’t help. Instead, he typed a more measured responde, “…just take a bath and then go to bed. Just…keep in touch, okay…?”

“Fine,” your reply arrived, a single word that did little to alleviate his worry.

He wanted to bombard you with more questions, to check your temperature, to make sure you were taking care of yourself, to tuck you into bed, to bring you the soup you loved from your mom and make you laugh, just life when you were kids… but the reality was he was trapped in his own apartment, that didn’t exist anymore…

So, he settled for a simple, “Okay… just stay safe. Call me if you need anything…”

With a heavy heart, he typed his final message for the night: “Talk to you later.”

Author’s note: MY LANDO NATION HOW ARE WE FEELING??? Lando’s first win was a dream, my heart wants to explode. I love him so so much and he deserved this so bad. Im so proud of him. Anyways this is part 3, I’m soooooo excited of how this is going. I hope you all like it, also I’m sorry if there’s something bad written, its just English is not my first language and i try not to have any mistakes but sometimes i do, so I’m sorry for that :( ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Tag list: @persiar9 @mia-rrrs @ssararuffoni @kapsylia @formulaal @sparklysharknerd-blog1 @f1fantasys @landosgirlxoxo @moonclaine @charlesgirl16 Tysm everyone!

[paxarsenal]

Mutuality

A WaveWave (Soundwave x Shockwave) fanfiction I had sitting in my notes app since June.

I'm so normal about them ✍(◔◡◔) <(💜💙💜💙...) Spreading Wavewave propaganda all around!!!

~~~

Everything they’d established was mutual. Everything was temporary.

Yet…

Soundwave worked through long cycles at a time. Although Vehicons worked as equals with said con, they would often head out in herds and murmur amongst themselves, turning towards their higher upper in ignorant secrecy. “He wouldn’t go… Workaholic… Always so quiet…” They would say and leave, yet the communication officer didn’t care. He liked it alone. He… was alone.

Being alone wasn’t too bad as Cybertronians put it to be. Sure, all sentient beings such as humans are social creatures. Why wouldn’t a biological AI be? Soundwave scoffed in silence, amused by discussions of socializing and friends, some bot to lean onto. He has no need for that, but somehow in some way, he still felt empty.

Mega-cycles prior to the events of the Civil War, he was just a gladiator within the rings of Kaon. Almost besting even the then most notorious Megatrous, and as an ex-senator, he had ways to keep himself occupied. Soundwave was as loyal as Orion Pax to Megatrous. The latter would then become the last Prime and Megatron’s archenemy, but Soundwave saw the light Megatron envisioned and showed. The Decepticon saw himself as the only one deemed inseparable from the Decepticon cause and to Megatron until he was wrong.

Shockwave… was a newcomer and was immediately impressed by this visionary. He devoted himself to the cause with the knowledge of science at the back of his servo. He was of great use; easy to bond with if you were Megatron.

… If you were Megatron… or…

Soundwave found himself side to side with Shockwave when calculating the future events that would behold on their precious planet. They hardly talked. Well, Soundwave never did, but it seems as if Shockwave could read his thought processor and always understood him no matter the situation.

They found themselves together through their work and even areas of leisure. Each one’s company filled the other with unexplainable warmth, craving it yet never so close. It was vulnerable and bitter, but also sickly sweet.

Everything they had was mutual. Everything was temporary.

Shockwave never returned to the Nemesis after their last battle at Cybertron. He assumed he sacrificed himself for the fruition of the Decepticon cause… or lost his life to a disposable Autobot. However, he kept those words to himself as he always did. He never showed his concerns. Not even the worries of a lost friend…

Thoughts of Shockwave bored into his processor as days went on.

When Shockwave did come back, Soundwave held his tempered emotions between his empty exterior, wondering still thoughts and muted feelings. As the meek Starscream and honorable Megatron discussed the whereabouts of Shockwave’s new discovery, Soundwave turned his HUD mask to that scarlet orb of a con. He stared at Shockwave, spark still alight.

Soundwave found Shockwave admiring the space of blue and violet at the Nemesis’s large interior window. Soundwave usually patrolled the corridors before heading to his berth. It was a mere task any mech can do, but he found it as an excuse to clear his mind off of the stress the crew caused numerous times, be it their own or the Autobots.

He stood by Shockwave, neither inching closer or away. He too glanced up at the night-lit aurora that passed through each universe. The stars reflected on SoundWave’s screen; it was beautiful.

“Surely my disappearance didn’t cause too much of a strain for Megatron or the faction,” Shockwave started, his free limb swayed to meet his chassis as red optic focused on Soundwave.

Soundwave shook his helm. “Negative: Decepticons, steady process.”

“You?”

“Affirmative: Soundwave… ” He stopped himself. He couldn’t start now. How uncharacteristic it would be, the silent and vicious Communication Commander, speechless for words. But even then, he wouldn’t lie to Shockwave, so why now?

“Troubled.”

Shockwave nodded the best he could for an Empurata. “I expected as much, for a high command, you are valued - for me, not as much.” His partner resisted the urge to scoff, to break the vow of silence to argue it was not. However, he said nothing. Instead, he turned to Shockwave and latched his paper-thin fingers over Shockwave’s oppositely sharp ones. They mindlessly took hold of each other’s small embrace, their figures never unmoving until their chassis touched and faceless helms pressed into gentle bliss.

As opposed to Soundwave’s cold exterior of a vision field, Shockwave was hot, radiating heat that warmed the equally cold-sparked mech. The way Soundwave cooled Shockwave’s underlying heat which never faded from Kalis and the Enforcers.

Despite this mutuality, there was indeed something. War was a terrible, terrible concept that separated many physical and mental bonds. At best, Shockwave and Soundwave never made any. Still, their existence lingered within hard metal and soft sparks.

Even if everything they had was mutual… everything was temporary, they had everything.

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 14

Part 13

Eddie opened his door to a line of first graders, chatting happily as they did despite the early morning. He greeted them all. Shawn came in quietly, like he usually did but there was something a bit more somber about him. Eddie kept an eye on him and his mood seemed to brighten as the day went on, so he didn’t think to mention it to Steve. 

But then the next day Shawn was late to school. And then the day after that he was absent entirely. Shawn hadn’t been late or absent a single day this year. He’d been gunning for that perfect attendance award. It prompted Eddie to call Steve during his lunch, not as a concerned teacher, but as someone closer. 

Steve didn’t answer the first time and Eddie tried not to get too worried. They were both getting busy with work. Maybe Shawn was dealing with a seasonal flu. There were a million things it could be. After the school day ended, he was about to call again, when Steve’s name flashed on his screen.

“Hey”, he picked up immediately.

“Hey”, Steve answered. “Sorry, I saw your call earlier, I just couldn’t-it wasn’t a good time. And I should have sent you a text that Shawn wouldn’t be in today.”

“It’s no worries, babe”, Eddie said as he walked out of the school. “Is everything okay?”

He thought he heard an intake of breath. Or maybe a sob, or a hiccup? It was hard to tell like Steve was covering his mouth.

“I thought Shawn might be sick but are you okay?”

“I’m…a little under the weather. So I’m gonna have to take a rain check on you coming over.”

“I can still come over, keep Shawn company while nursing you.”

“Eddie, I can’t ask you to babysit.”

Eddie smiled tenderly as he got into his van. “You know it’s not like that when it’s Shawn.” Eddie was already considering him his own pup. “Besides, weren’t you supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow?”

….”Okay, only if you don’t mind getting up early on a Saturday morning.”

The next day, Steve watched the clock with dread. Billy had been coming around once a day to antagonize him. But he wasn’t much of an early riser. The last thing he needed was for him and Eddie to cross paths. So far his ex had been a nuisance, but hadn’t actually done anything criminal. At least not in this house. Steve would’ve felt silly for calling the cops. 

But the stress had him aching and tired and struggling to do even basic things. He didn’t want to admit that it was rejection sickness. Because that felt like admitting he wanted Billy. He was able to get Shawn dressed and gave him a list of items they needed from the store. 

“I need to lie down, I’m still not feeling well. When Mr. Eddie comes, let him know that’s all it is, but I still don’t wanna contaminate him, okay?”

“Okay”, Shawn nodded. 

Steve hid away in his room, able to hear and see Eddie’s distinct van when it pulled up. He texted him, telling him that the door was unlocked and to let himself in. They waved to each other from the window and then he heard Eddie greet Shawn. He hoped Eddie would be satisfied with Shawn’s explanation and didn’t come up. If he smelled him now, Steve would have to tell him everything.

But he heard them leave and he checked the window to be sure, getting there just in time to see them both waving at him. Steve smiled, blowing Eddie a kiss which he pretended to jump for, catching in his hand and bringing to his heart before stuffing it in his pocket. 

Was he in love?

He might be in love.

-------------------------

Eddie pushed the cart forward with Shawn sitting criss-cross in the basket, reading the back of a cereal box. Eddie had the list Steve wrote clutched tight in his hand.

“Hey pup, your dad wrote blue dish soap? Do you know why he’s specifically put blue?”

Shawn looked up and shrugged, leaving Eddie in the dark still. A particular scent, he could understand. Dish soaps came in all sorts of fragrances. But Steve had just written down ‘blue’.

“Can we get candy?”, Shawn asked, putting the cereal box down.

Eddie knew better than to give into a child’s sweet tooth whims. But he also knew he might be craving something chocolatey later. And that Steve could definitely use a pick me up.

“You know what’s better than candy?”, Eddie said before grabbing some premade cookie dough, causing Shawn to gasp and get a sparkle in his eyes.

It wasn’t on the list, but whatever Steve was coming down with, fresh baked cookies couldn’t hurt.  He drove back to the house, not really taking notice of the blue car driving in the opposite direction, but definitely noticing as Shawn sank down in his seat, like he didn’t want to be seen. He kept that to himself though, as he rose back up when they parked. Eddie handed Shawn the lighter bag of groceries and they came inside. Steve was on the kitchen floor, cleaning up glass.

That alone wasn’t too alarming. What had Eddie on high alert was how sour he smelled. Anxious, afraid, like he’d been spooked.

“Watch out Shawn”, Eddie said, taking the bag from him. “You hang out with some tv while I help your dad out, yeah?”

“Okay”, Shawn nodded, scurrying off. Eddie set the bags on the kitchen table and knelt in front of Steve.

“Hey”, he whispered. “Did something happen?”

Steve looked up, bags under his eyes that weren’t evident from the window. Compounded with his scent and Eddie had a hunch that he wished wasn’t true.

“I’m sorry”, Steve said, brushing the rest of the glass into the dustpan. “I lost my balance and- I’m sorry.”

“That’s nothing to apologize for”, Eddie said, rising up with him and watching him throw the glass away. “But something’s up, I can smell it on you.”

Steve stiffened. “Smell it? Smell what?”

“Steve…are you…going through-”, Eddie cleared his throat and fumbled with his hands. “Is this rejection sickness? Because I thought I was pretty open about courting you and I thought things were going well-”

“It’s not your fault. It’s not you Eddie, I promise. It’s…” Steve bit his lip and whimpered and Eddie wasn’t strong enough to stay away. He crowded Steve against the counter, hands on either side of him while he rubbed their cheeks together. This close, Steve’s scent was more nuanced. There wasn’t just the stench of a sickness, but something else there. The hint of another alpha. He looked into Steve’s eyes, a heavy question in his gaze.

“Billy, my ex, Shawn’s sire, he showed up a few days ago”, Steve admitted, lip trembling a bit. “And he’s been showing up once a day just to, I don’t know, terrorize me, convince me to take him back? I don’t know what his actual goal is.”

“Stevie, baby, why didn’t you say anything the first time?”, Eddie asked, cradling his face. “Did he hurt you? Or Shawn?”

Steve shook his head. “He hasn’t hurt us. He doesn’t even really touch Shawn that much he just”, he hesitated before recounting to Eddie what had been happening the past few days. 

He dreaded hearing someone at the door. But he also knew if he didn’t answer, Billy was likely to break down the door. He distinctly remembered the alpha doing so one time in their old apartment when he thought Steve was cheating on him. So he opened the door and Billy always shouldered his way in.

In his mind, Steve knew a fight between them could go either way. That wasn’t the issue. The problem was subjecting Shawn to that. It was why no matter what, he’d never initiate a fight with Billy. It was why he didn’t want to call the cops unless either of their lives were in danger. It was also why he tried not to escalate things when he could.

So when Billy grabbed him, he didn’t fight back. He only spoke up when Billy pushed him against the couch and started to scent him.

“Get off!”, he hissed, hands pushing back now.

“Careful, I’m sure Shawn can hear us. Now is he gonna come down and see his parents fighting, or having a friendly wrestling match?”

Steve growled and Billy matched it with one of his own, teeth bared. He came by everyday, forcing his scent on Steve, determined to wipe the other smell on him. It was horrifically similar to their relationship before. All the possessiveness and roughness that came with it, none of the tenderness of actually being claimed. It was like he was resetting Steve’s hormones with each scenting.

Steve took in a deep breath. “You just missed him. We had an argument because he wanted to get rid of the things that smelled like you.”

“Babylove, I asked if he hurt you.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “He didn’t really he-”

“Scenting you by force, pushing you around like that even if it doesn’t make you bruise - that’s hurting you sweetheart.”

Steve collapsed against him and Eddie held him tight. Steve said he had just missed Billy and Eddie hoped he counted himself lucky. He tried to keep anger from making his scent bitter. Steve didn’t need that right now. 

Shawn poked his head in. “Can we make the cookies now?”

“Cookies?” Steve looked up from Eddie’s shoulder. “You didn’t stick to the list?”

Eddie shrugged. “Are you gonna say no to warm chocolate chips?”

“Nooo”, Steve sighed.

Eddie spent the rest of the day there, as he already did most weekends. But as day turned into night and they settled into bed, Eddie asked something of Steve that he didn’t think he’d be asking for a while.

“Let me move in with you.”

“What?”

“At least until Billy backs off.”

Steve pretended to still be brushing his hair in the mirror. “I don’t want you running into him. I thought that was obvious.”

Eddie came up from behind, arms wrapping around his waist as he watched their reflections. “I’m serious about courting you. I want you to accept my bite one day.” He kissed Steve’s shoulder three times, bare in the tank top he was wearing. “And that means I’m willing to fight for you. Including a pissy ex.” Billy couldn’t see what a prize Steve was when he had him. But Eddie could and he was never letting him go. “Do you want it Stevie?”

He met Steve’s eyes through the mirror and kissed the back of his neck, then the side of it, just missing his mating gland. Throughout the day, Steve’s scent had mellowed out and now it was turning peppery with arousal.

“Yes”, Steve breathed out, hips rocking back.

“Then I’m gonna earn it.” Eddie turned Steve around and dropped down to his knees. “And I think I’ll do a little earnin’ now”, he grinned.

Part 15

Taglist

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[sweetprfct]

Is It Over Now?

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fake dating your flatmate, Joe, should be a simple thing. It meant you get to help get his ex back, and it meant you get to stop your parents' nagging about bringing someone home for once. But what happens when fake dating turns into something unexpected? Now, what?

Author's Note: Part 2! :) Enjoy ! I actually am editing these chapters as I re-upload them so it's better but not much will change.

Disclaimer: Mention of violence, 18+

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

Joe’s head pounded the second he woke up the next morning. He slowly fluttered his eyes open, adjusting his vision from the bright light that was coming through the window. He couldn’t tell where he was at the moment until his eyes caught the sight of the coffee table and the television in front of him. He was still in the living room just like the blur memory he remembered from last night. He groaned softly, rubbing his temples and pinching the bridge of his nose to try and get rid of the throbbing headache, but it was no use. He drank too much last night, and he still remembered every detail of it. Every pain and every word that Ivy had told him. 

Shifting his eyes back on the coffee table, he found a glass of water, a paracetamol, and a yellow sticky note. Slowly, he pushed himself up from the sofa and let out another groan. God, he was starting to feel old. His body felt sore from sleeping on the sofa all night. He picked up the yellow sticky note and read:

Thought you might need it.

He knew that handwriting from anywhere and that was from you. He looked around the flat and found that it was quiet and empty. You were nowhere to be found. Taking the medicine and immediately washing it down with the water, he let out a sigh and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He could still hear Ivy’s voice echoing in his mind from last night. He couldn’t help but wonder where he went wrong in showing her how much he wanted to be with her. Pulling out his phone from his back pocket, he stared at the screen for a moment before pulling up his messages from Ivy. He hasn't seen her for two months, and he was really excited to spend some time with her last night. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked. 

His mind flashed back to the memory from last night. He had taken her to a nice restaurant for once and not a pub, and he wanted the night to be a special night, but Ivy hasn’t said much ever since he picked her up from her flat. To make matters worse, she also has just been sitting there across from him barely eating her dinner. He had been telling her about what happened on set for his new film, and she barely listened. She was zoning out the whole time just staring into the empty space in front of her. 

“I don’t know if I can take anymore of this, Joe.” Ivy blurted the words out, cutting off the story that he was telling her.

Joe knitted his brows, confused as to what she was referring to. He reached for her hand on the table, but she was quick to slide it away. 

“What are you talking about, babe?” His voice was full of concern.

“I mean I can’t take anymore of barely seeing you. Whenever you come back, you’re only in town for a few days, and you leave again.”

Joe knew that his job was complicated, and it even got more complicated when his career had started going up. Flying to the States, other countries and different cities for conventions and events was what was taking up his life lately. Booking a role after another and attending fashion events and shooting commercials for them was the definition of his life for the last however many months. 

“Ivy, I know it can get so hard and complicated, but I’m trying my best to balance it all. It’s hard for me too, not seeing you everyday.”

Ivy didn’t buy what he said though. Instead, she scoffed and shook her head as she took a sip of her drink. 

“Don’t even get me started with that flatmate of yours.” She added. 

Joe furrowed his brows, confused. How did the subject of you suddenly enter this conversation? What was Ivy talking about? He hasn’t even shown any interest towards you nor had he seen you in months because he was barely home. Whenever he was in town, he would stay at Ivy’s most of the time. So, what was the problem when it came to you?

“She’s just my flatmate.” Joe reassured her. “There’s nothing going on between me and her. I barely see her.”

“And how do I know that? How can I be so sure?” Ivy’s eyes were full of jealousy. “She’s pretty, and I’m sure she’s better than me right? Because she’s smart and works at a lab. A fucking chemist, and I’m just a model.”

Joe shook his head in disbelief. He couldn’t put together how Ivy was comparing herself to you. Hasn’t he shown her all this time that he only wanted her and no one else? What more could he say or do?

“Babe, we’re just flatmates. You’re the one I want to be with.” Joe said sternly.

Watching Ivy throw her napkin on the table, she got up from her chair as Joe followed her. He wanted to stop her from leaving, but he couldn’t. 

“No, Joe.” Ivy stated. “This isn’t working out anymore.”

She had made up her mind, and Joe knew when Ivy made up her mind, there was no going back. But how could she just leave like that? How could she choose to believe the insecurities that were screaming in her mind than the actions he had shown to her several times? Not once had Joe broken his promises to her nor tried to disappoint her. Even when he was away, he always tried his best to make sure they talked every single day, so she didn’t feel like she was far from him. Now, he watched her walk out that door as if what they had the last several months was nothing. 

It was over. 

She was gone. 

Joe sighed at the memory as he made his way towards the bathroom. He smelled like alcohol and cigarettes, and his head was pounding even harder the more he thought about her. What else could he do? What could he do to get her back?

The sound of the coffee mug hitting the glass table echoed softly through the room. The place was crowded with people having a Sunday brunch with their friends or families. The gloomy January weather didn’t help with the mood of the conversation you were having with your friends.

Sara’s eyes widened in disbelief as she said, “Really?”

You nodded your head, looking at her through your lashes as you took a sip of your hot coffee. The hot liquid warmed up your throat and made your body relax. It was cold and gloomy, but you never wanted to miss your weekly Sunday brunch with Sara and Abby. It was a little tradition the three of you started ever since Sara had moved out. It was something you found comfort in every week. The day of the week that you would feel more at ease because Sara tends to balance you, and Abby was the most calm person you ever met. 

When Sara had met Abby at the art gallery three years ago, you immediately knew that she was the right person for Sara. Her wavy brown hair, green eyes and soft smile definitely caught Sara’s eyes at the beginning, but it was Abby’s calmness, patience and warm persona that made Sara fall in love with her. You weren’t going to lie that you also felt comfortable and at ease when you first met Abby too. You could understand why Sara had fallen for her. Now, every Sunday, the three of you would catch up and hang out, especially because life would get busy and chaotic from time to time. 

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I feel sorry for him.”

You just finished telling Sara and Abby about what you dealt with last night when Joe came home. Both women had met Joe before, and they knew he was a decent guy, but he was never the main subject of most of your conversations until now. You didn’t really know what to do or to think, so you wanted to seek out some advice or opinion from your best friends. 

“Honestly, Ivy sounds sort of insecure.” Abby commented. 

Abby was right. Even if you have dealt with your own insecurities, you could tell that Ivy also had a fair share of hers because really? Jealous of you? You were literally nothing but just a normal person trying to get through life, while her modeling career was quickly rising. She had nothing to worry about when it came to you. 

“Maybe Joe isn’t showing her enough reassurance?” Abby added, shrugging her shoulders.

You watched as Sara turned to you and tilted her head, brows all furrowed. “Are you sure that having Joe as your flatmate is a good idea?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with how many times you have heard that line. 

“You sound like my mother.” You retorted back.

Sara chuckled softly at your comment and said, “No, but seriously… because do you really want to get caught up in their drama?”

Drama? That was the last thing you wanted in your life, especially in a drama that involved someone else’s relationship. You knew what Joe was going through, but you weren’t about to cross boundaries. What was going on between him and Ivy was their business, not yours. 

“I’m not really caught up in their drama. That’s their own problem, you know? My name just happened to get dragged into it.” You casually said as you shrugged your shoulders.

It was the truth. You weren’t. 

“Yeah, but what if she drags you even more in her little insecurity?” Abby addressed.

You knew what was going on between them. Even if your name was dragged to their conversation last night, you weren’t the big issue here. Joe had told you that, and you knew there were other issues they were dealing with. Ivy just happened to include you into it. Maybe to cause more excuses not to be with Joe. You really didn’t know.

“I don’t care what she feels about me because I’m not doing anything to her.” You took a bite off your waffle and decided to change the subject. You were sort of over this conversation about Joe. 

Whatever was going on with him, that was his business. All you did was comfort him and listen to him, hoping you’d make someone feel better. That was all. 

“Anyway, enough about me. How are you? How is married life treating you both?” You asked, a small smile creeping up on your face. 

You watched as the two women exchanged looks before both of their lips tugged into a smile. 

“Great!” Sara replied. “We’re settling in the new place, and Abby is back to work. Though, we sort of started talking about something the other night.”

Your eyes watched as Sara and Abby held hands, giving each other a warm smile. It made you more curious as to what Sara was talking about. 

“Tell her.” Abby murmured, squeezing Sara’s hand softly. 

Your eyes widened in curiosity as you waited for one of them to tell you whatever they were planning, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit impatient as Sara tried to find the right words to say to you. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

“I don’t know.” Sara suddenly felt shy as she gave Abby a hesitant look, which in return, Abby kept giving her an approval look. “We were sort of talking a lot of things about our future last night, and we know it sounds a bit crazy…” 

You raised your brows, wanting Sara to just spat out the words. 

“Yea?”

“We sort of want to adopt.” Sara finally said. 

You couldn’t help but almost jump out of your seat from excitement as soon as Sara said those words. 

“Ohmygod.” You covered your mouth with your hand. “Are you serious?”

Abby and Sara glanced at each other with excitement. They really were serious, and you could tell how thrilled they were by just how they were talking about it. They both turned back to you and nodded their heads. 

“I’m so happy for you both.” You took both of their hands in yours. “Please let me know if I could help with anything.”

“Thank you.” Abby smiled. “We both knew we wanted this even before getting married and the fact that it’s happening, we are very excited about it.”

“Then, you both should go for it!” You encouraged them even more as you all laughed softly in unison. 

“And you should go look for a new flat!” Sara teased you, squeezing your hand softly.

“Stop it! I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes, sliding your hands away from theirs. “I’m perfectly happy with my situation, and it’s not like Joe is bothering me. They’re broken up. I have nothing to worry about.”

Abby took a sip of her coffee and a playful smile tugged on her lips. “Who knows… Maybe you’ll end up with Joe.”

Oh, here we go again. 

Why did everyone keep pushing this idea of you and Joe? He literally was nothing but just your flatmate. Just because he was a man didn’t mean that you two would end up together. A woman and a man could be flatmates together. Just like a man and a woman could be friends. 

Right?

“We’re just flatmates. That’s all.” You argued.

You just wished everyone was going to drop this subject already because you and Joe weren’t going to happen. Ever.

Coming home later that day, you found the flat quiet and empty. The sofa was back to the way it looked. Pillows fluffed, throw blanket folded and hung at the back of it. The kitchen was clean, and the dishes that Joe promised he would wash were all clean and put away. Joe was nowhere to be found, and you figured maybe he had gone out. Maybe he went to go talk to Ivy or pick up his things from her place. Who knows.

As you walked down the hall towards your bedroom, floorboards creaked, and you heard a quiet rustling that came from Joe’s room. 

Oh, he was home. 

You passed by his bedroom and paused in your tracks as soon as you saw him organizing his room. He looked better. Not his usual normal face, but he looked better than last night. 

“Hey.” You gave him a soft smile, leaning against the doorframe.

Joe never set boundaries like you did with him, but you tend to respect his own private space. He didn’t have to set rules with you because he didn’t really care that much about his own boundaries, but you respected him as your flat mate. It was his bedroom. You never tried to step into it. 

“How are you?” You asked.

Joe shut his closet doors closed and took a deep breath, turning his attention to you with a smile. 

“Good. I have been thinking a lot all morning.” 

He looked… enthusiastic?

“Oh, yeah?” You raised your brows. “How’d that go?”

Joe started walking towards you as he said, “I really like Ivy.”

You nodded your head in understanding, trying to figure out where this conversation was going.

“And you know that, right?” Joe asked as if you were out of the loop about this whole thing.

Of course, you knew. He was probably mad over her.

“Right, but Joe if she doesn’t want this anymore–”

Joe cut you off as he stopped in front of you. It looked like a light bulb switched above his head as his lips tugged into a devious smile. 

“So, I was thinking that Ivy was just being Ivy, and she just wants attention. I know she wants me to chase her.”

What the fuck was he on? 

You furrowed your brows, wondering what that mind of his started thinking all morning that all of a sudden he was saying all of these things. If he wanted her back, then so be it. It was his life, and you couldn’t stop whatever he wanted to do with his life. You weren’t his mother. Though, from the look of his expression, you didn’t think his own mother could also stop him from doing whatever he wanted anyway. 

“So, I’m going to try and get her back.” Joe continued.

Well, good for you, mate but good luck. 

“Can I ask a favor though? No, not favor… But I need your help.”

Now, you were scared–no–terrified.

You stood there without saying a word as you blinked your eyes and stared at Joe for a moment. You didn’t want to say anything or ask what he wanted because you had a feeling in your stomach that it was going to be something you weren’t going to agree on. You could just feel it. 

“What is it?” You steady your voice, trying not to stumble on your words. 

“I need you to be my fake girlfriend.” Joe said sternly, his chocolate button eyes staring right into your eyes.

Oh, fuck no.

Absolutely fucking not. 

Your eyes widened in disbelief, trying to repeat Joe’s words in your head. Did he really just said that? Did he really just asked you that? When he said he had been thinking all day, you didn’t realize that he hadn’t been thinking at all! Where the fuck did he even got this idea from? Did he put that paracetamol somewhere other than his mouth, or did that medicine went up to his brain? 

You understood that he was going through a difficult and rough time due to the fact that he liked Ivy that much, but did he completely lose his mind? Was this the situation that Abby and Sara were afraid of when they said that you really needed to look for a new flat? Because it was starting to look like your flatmate had gone mad. 

“E…Excuse me, what?!” You finally found your words as you looked at Joe in disbelief. 

“I know that I probably sound mad but–”

“Uh… yeah, you got that right!” You scoffed, shaking your head as you took a step back from him. 

Maybe your mother was right. What else was he going to do next? Stab you just like what that boyfriend of your mother’s friend’s daughter did?! 

Joe saw the horrific look in your eyes as he tried to calm you down and showed you that he wasn’t actually going mad but all you wanted to do was run away from where you were. 

Joe sighed and looked down at his feet and said, “If she saw you and me are dating, then she’d get jealous and she’d ask me to get her back.”

You really need to go find another flat. 

You shook your head and started making your way towards your bedroom. “Absolutely not! You’ve gone mad!”

Joe followed behind you, and you gave him a “don’t you dare” look as soon as he was about to step inside your room. Joe, however, caught himself and stood by your doorway with pleading eyes. 

“Please? I know that this is crazy, and you probably think I’m crazy, but I really like her. I just…” Joe’s voice was soft as he let out a sigh and said, “I really thought she was the one.”

You weren’t going to lie. You have known Joe for a year, so you knew this was just him going through a breakup. Maybe losing his mind a little but everyone loses their minds when it comes to someone they love, right? Did Joe even love Ivy? You understood why he was doing this, but you were already on Ivy's hit list, and Joe thought this was going to be a good idea?

There was no way you were going to bring yourself in this drama. You already told yourself that. You even told your friends that earlier. 

God, Sara and Abby were right. 

“If she’s the one, then she’ll come back to you without you doing all this crazy shit.” 

Joe pursed his lips and nodded his head in understanding. He wasn’t going to press you with this subject because he knew it was mental in the first place. He was just hoping that maybe you would say yes, but he also understood that you weren’t going to put yourself in a situation like this. How could he drag you into his own problem?

“I understand.” Joe murmured. “I’m sorry for making up this idea in the first place, and I’m sorry for trying to drag you into it.”

You watched as Joe gave you an apologetic look and walked away. You sighed and flopped yourself on your bed face down, letting out a small groan. Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your back pocket. You flipped yourself over, so you were laying on your back, sliding your phone out and saw that your mum was trying to facetime you.

Oh, fucking great. 

Whatever she wanted to say wasn’t really something you wanted to hear tonight. You didn’t need her to add into the craziness. You stared at your phone for a moment, hesitating on what to do, but you knew she wasn’t going to leave you alone, so you decided to answer the call. 

“Hey mum.” Your voice sounded tired. 

The second your mum appeared on your screen, you saw how she looked excited and there was a big smile plastered on her face. 

“It’s not really a good time, mum–”

Your eyes widened when a man about your age appeared next to your mum. He waved hello to you as your mum started introducing you to him. 

What the hell was she doing? Was she really trying to set you up with a stranger right now? Joe wasn’t the only one going mad tonight. Though, you retracted that thought because your mum was already mad. 

“This is Alex. He’s our new neighbor’s son. I thought maybe you two could get to know each other.”

God, this was so embarrassing. 

How could she fucking do this to you? You were 28 years old, and she was setting you up with some man you never met. Not only was it embarrassing, but you didn’t need your own mother to set you up with someone. If you wanted to date or be in a relationship, you could find a man for yourself. 

“Mum, this isn’t such a good time.” You looked at Alex through the screen and said, “It’s nice to meet you, but I have to go. I’m sorry.”

Just like that, you immediately hit the end call button and grabbed your pillow to muffle a scream. Everything was just making you so frustrated, and you were even more frustrated with your mum. Her actions were starting to get into your last nerve. You didn’t know if you could take anymore of this from her. Even if you were far away, she still managed to piss you off. 

Staring at the ceiling, your dad’s voice echoed in your mind about when you were going to bring a man home. Were you really that much of a disappointment to your family? Did you really need to marry or be with someone for them to feel proud of you? Because that was just wrong. You were a chemist for fuck’s sake. You were literally out there dealing and mixing chemicals and synthesizing DNA just so this world could find cures for illnesses and diseases and all your parents could care about was you getting in a relationship? 

You were so sick of it! 

Then, your eyes darted towards the empty hall just right outside your door. Joe’s offer echoed in your mind, and you were starting to ask yourself if you also had gone mental too. Maybe you have. 

Letting your feet lead you, you got up from your bed and slowly walked down the hall towards Joe’s bedroom. His door was open, and you quietly peeked and saw that he was just sitting there at the edge of his bed, thinking deeply with a melancholy look on his face. His hands were playing with the empty beer bottle, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes because all of this was so stupid. 

“So…” You stood by his doorway, getting his attention. “How long is this fake dating thing?”

Joe froze where he was and stared at you in disbelief. Were you really offering an approval to his crazy idea? Honestly, you were asking yourself the same thing. 

“Just until I finally catch her attention and would want me back.” Joe answered.

You bit your lower lip, playing with your fingers nervously for a moment before taking a deep breath and said, “So, here are the rules...”

Joe’s full attention was now to you as he waited for you to continue. 

“If you get to use me as your fake girlfriend then I get to use you as my fake boyfriend at any upcoming family gathering.”

Joe set the empty bottle on his bedside table before getting up from his bed and walked over to where you were. He was trying to comprehend the offer that you just made. 

“You mean… introducing me to your parents as your boyfriend?” Joe asked, brows all knitted together. 

“Yes, that’s right.” 

“Then, you have to go to party events with me, especially if Ivy is there.”

You tilted your head, giving Joe a look. “Joe, I have a job. I can’t just ditch that for stupid party events.”

“Then, how are people going to believe we’re dating if we’re not seen together?” Joe argued. 

The man had a point but there was no way you were going to agree with this without getting anything in return. 

“Fine, but you get to pay for the dresses and shoes that I have to wear to these stupid events, and I get to keep them all.”

“Okay, deal.” Joe gave you a smile. 

You weren’t done yet. 

“And one more thing, you could only kiss me and hold me but there’s no sex.”

The small chuckle that escaped from Joe sort of insulted you, but you ignored it because this was all fake anyway. Besides, you both were using each other for both of your benefits, so you didn’t have time to feel insulted that Joe was quick to agree that he didn’t want to have sex with you. 

“No problem.” Joe agreed, reaching his hand towards you. 

You stared into his eyes as you shook his hand firmly in agreement. 

You were so going to regret this, weren’t you? 

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna

[xf-cases-solved]

S1E12: Fire

Case: An incel played by Mark Sheppard is lighting people (and things, but we're more concerned about the people) on fire, and they can't figure out how he's doing it. This case is brought to Mulder's attention by his toxic British ex, Phoebe (who, as far as Mulder's exes go, is way more charismatic than Fowley so -shrug emoji-), and the two of them go off to Massachusetts to stop some rich British people from being barbecued. Half the people in this episode are weirdly horny, especially the fire expert guy at the Bureau who sounds like he's in the process of getting off when he describes pictures of fire. Mark Sheppard kicks a dog. Mulder literally says the words, "That's one of the luxuries to hunting down aliens and genetic mutants—you rarely get to press charges," so at least they're self-aware. Also, he's terrified of fire and apparently "cursed" with a photographic memory—I'm pretty sure neither of these things ever come up again. Meanwhile, the only person doing any actual FBI work is Scully. Thank god for her.

Does someone die in the cold open: Ah, yeah. Death by psychic immolation. Not the nicest way to go.

Does Mulder present a slideshow: No, but he does get practical joked into thinking he's about to die in a car bombing. Take note, Youtube pranksters.

Does the evidence survive the investigation: The most damning evidence is Incel Mark Sheppard himself, and while he's definitely a little crispy, he makes it to the end.

Whodunit: Incel Mark Sheppard

Convictions: Incel Mark Sheppard will face prosecution once he's done applying aloe to his burns. They are kind of not sure how to do that given that he can light literally anything flammable on fire with his mind. If it was 2024 they'd just do a Zoom call, but alas.

Did they solve it: Yes!

[how do i determine if an episode is solved? check the scale here: x]

THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY: Forced exposure therapy.

Do you need to suffer from a convenient phobia that is relevant to your current situation in order to provide suspense to your plotline, but you also don't want to have to ever bring it up again in your general narrative arc as a whole? Get rid of it quick with forced exposure therapy!

Forced exposure therapy works by having you speedrun the entire therapy process by putting you in a life or death scenario where you have no choice but to face your fears. Tired of being afraid? Well throw yourself into that burning building and learn to become brave, once and for all!*

*Forced exposure therapy may worsen phobias in some individuals, potentially resulting in the development of moderate to severe post-traumatic stress disorder. Do not put yourself into life or death scenarios without first speaking to your doctor to see if forced exposure therapy is right for you.

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 5 (that's two in a row! new best streak!!)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, it's me" phone calls: 1 (oh man, we were so close two different times. first one Scully goes, "Mulder, it's Scully," and i was like, "damn," and then later she started calling him on her gigantic black box cell phone, and i was like, "ooh, here we go!" but then the call didn't go through :( )

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 4 (she was kind of the only person paying actual attention to anything this episode)

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 5 (the amount of smoke inhalation he got both times he was in the fire probably should have killed him, tbh)

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 3

Total Number of Sexually Charged and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 6 (there's so much weird tension in this episode that i can't even count it all individually)

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed On Screen: 1

Total Number of Times Scully Plays Doctor: 1

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 6

Total Number of Nosebleeds: 4

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Tasted/Sniffed/Touched Something Questionable Without Following Proper Safety Procedures: 1

Total Number of Times Someone Says "Trust No One": 1

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 2

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 0 :(

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 3 ½ (giving myself half-credit bc I knew it happened in Cape Cod, but I didn't know where Cape Cod was lol)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 2 (not this episode, and i can also say with authority that this stat won't go up next episode either, bc next episode is mfing "Beyond the Sea" which is the topest of tiers of first season episodes. get hype!!!)

[tolietpaperdreams]

Warned You Chapter 2 (Shawnter)

Sorry this fic is taking a lil bit to cook, I keep writing ideas, finding they don’t work and then saving them for later so this chapter took a hot min. But I’m back in the kitchen yall!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58413820/chapters/149478107#main

TW: panic attacks and a lot of self loathing happening here so be mindful!

(the gif has nothing to do with the story)

🗣️ BUT YEAH COME GET YOUR DINNER !!!

Things calmed down after that for a while. Shawn took his healing seriously, and Hunter eventually headed back on the road when they both decided Shawn would be able to handle himself. He couldn't help but feel like a child who was finally allowed to be home alone for the first time, but instead of being excited, he dreaded it.

Whenever Hunter was home, they didn't talk about work. Shawn would ask how things were going and get a simple answer along the lines of ‘good’ or ‘build-up needs work.’ He would never go into details, and even when Shawn would pry, Hunter would just tell him he wasn't in the mood to talk about work.

It’s not like Shawn was entirely isolated from the company, he still had a few friends, but he felt like he’d be going behind Hunter’s back. Watching Raw wouldn’t give him all the answers he needed either, but what else could he do?

With DX just being a pedestal for Hunter now, he was slowly but surely leaving them behind for more on-screen opportunities; he’d get a title shot soon enough.

Maybe Shawn was jealous that Hunter seemed to be thriving in his career without him or he was mad that he wasn't there to at least witness it. Unfortunately, it was really starting to affect Shawn.

All the extra attention at work had Hunter away for longer periods of time, and the fact that they hadn’t even discussed it had Shawn reeling.

He was so clingy when Hunter was home that he’d practically follow the man into every room he went into in the house. Shawn was so jealous of someone potentially trying to get at what was his that when Hunter was in the shower, he’d dig through his luggage to look for any signs of infidelity, but luckily, never found any.

“Do you jerk off on the road?”

Hunter’s brows went straight to his forehead, “What a fucking bizarre thing to ask me after I just fucked your brains out.”

Shawn was sprawled on top of Hunter, using the bigger man’s chest as a pillow. It was the first night Hunter had been home in over a week, and it had been a really tough week for Shawn all alone.

“Do you think about me when you do it?” Shawn propped his chin up on a hand.

“Baby, I do not wanna have this conversation right now,” Hunter said, exasperated.

Shawn groaned and rolled his eyes, “That’s what you say when I ask you anything. You never talk to me anymore.”

“I do too,” Hunter gave Shawn’s ass a squeeze, “I call you every day I'm gone.”

He couldn’t argue that. Hunter was good about being frequent with his calls, but again, he never went into details about work. It felt like Shawn was missing a very big part of not only Hunter’s but also his own life.

“Have you heard from Kev and Scott recently?” Shawn asked, changing the subject.

Tracing lines up and down Shawn’s back, Hunter nonchalantly nodded, “Yeah, I saw them when they were in St. Louis the same time I was.”

Shawn swallowed, “You didn’t see… him, right?”

“Would it be a problem if I did?” Hunter’s brow furrowed, “He’s your ex, not mine.”

“When I talked to Kevin a while back, he said Bret asked about me,” Shawn averted his gaze.

“Should I be concerned?” Hunter asked before continuing, “When I saw him he asked how you were and I told him you were fine. And before you ask, he knows we’re together. So can I ask, why do you care what Bret has to say?”

“I don’t!” Shawn got defensive quickly, “No, you don’t need to be concerned. I just don’t have a lot of closure.”

Hunter stopped the gentle traces with his fingers and clenched his jaw, Shawn shouldn’t have said that.

“Can we just go to bed?” Hunter went monotone.

“I’m sorry, babe that’s not what I meant,” Shawn pleaded.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” Hunter shifted and turned so his back was facing his partner.

***

The next morning, Shawn woke up hoping he could fix what he had broken. Make-up sex with Hunter was always something both parties enjoyed, but the other side of the bed was cold when he opened his eyes.

Hunter was always an earlier riser, mostly out of lifestyle habit, so Shawn wasn’t concerned that he’d run off, but it still stung a little that they couldn’t curl up together this morning. Not like Shawn deserved it.

‘I don’t have closure.’ God, what was he thinking? He practically admitted to Hunter right there that he had some sort of feelings left for Bret. Which wasn’t true, that he knew of.

All Shawn wanted was answers; he didn’t want Bret. Hunter stood by Shawn’s side through everything, and he had the audacity to ask for more.

“Hunter?” He called, sitting up slowly, his back letting him know that it protested the movement.

There was no answer so he tried again, “Hunter?”

Silence again. Panic started to creep in. Maybe he had left. Shawn couldn’t be alone, he wasn’t good by himself, and Hunter knew that. Hunter wouldn’t leave him alone would he? Not in the shape he was in.

Shawn winced as he stood and threw on the nearest pair of shorts before practically limping into the hallway. His heart rate skyrocketed at the thought of being left behind, but the guilt made it feel deserved.

He turned the corner hoping to find his partner in the kitchen, but there was no one there. There was, however, a fresh pot of coffee and a note that read, ‘In the garage, will make breakfast when you’re up.’

Shawn closed his eyes and exhaled, relief flooding his system. He took a minute to pour himself some coffee and calm his racing heart before heading into the garage.

The larger man was in the middle of a set of curls when Shawn opened the door. Seeing Hunter there physically had Shawn exhaling a calming breath, he did his best to look like he hadn’t been freaking out a moment ago.

Hunter soon took notice of Shawn’s presence and set his weights aside before getting up to turn the loud music from the stereo down.

“Hey babe,” The larger man greeted, planting a kiss on Shawn’s cheek and wrapping him in a hug, “You sleep okay?”

It didn't matter that Hunter was sweaty and shirtless to Shawn, he took in the other man’s scent and relaxed at his touch. Hunter wouldn't leave him, not that easily, even though Shawn knew he deserved it. He wrapped his arms around Hunter’s waist and tucked his face into the crook of his neck.

They stayed like that for a bit, Shawn slowly coming back down from the panic and Hunter acting as his anchor. If the bigger man could tell something was wrong, he didn't mention it.

“I still want to talk about last night,” Hunter said calmly, pulling his face back to look Shawn in the eyes, “But it can wait ‘till after breakfast.”

Shawn opened his mouth to apologize, but Hunter stopped him, “Breakfast, first. I’m starving.”

After their meal, Shawn broke their somewhat comfortable silence, “I’m sorry about what I said.”

Hunter took a sip of his coffee and sighed, “I know Shawn,” He set the mug down and scratched his cheek, “But how am I supposed to feel knowing you're still thinking about your ex?”

“I don't think about him,” Shawn said with little confidence, “Not in the way you think. You're my everything, Hunt. I think I’m just a little bitter about how things went down with Bret.”

“So there's still a door that hasn't been closed with him,” Hunter's jaw clenched after he spoke, he looked like he was trying his best to keep his cool and be patient, “But it shouldn't matter, Shawn. You moved on. Sometimes no closure is closure in itself.”

Everything that his partner was saying made sense, Hunter was entirely rooted in logic, which wasn't always the best when it came to Shawn’s overzealous emotions. How could he convince Hunter that his words didn't match his thoughts? The only thing he truly knew was to show him with his body, but that wasn’t how Hunter worked. He always wanted to talk things out.

“I just need to know that if he’s ever around is it going to be a problem?” Hunter asked with a finality.

“Why would he be around?”

Bret was as good as gone. Shawn never even considered going to WCW, and with the way Hunter’s career was headed, he’d never have to go back, either.

“I’m surprised Kevin hasn’t spilled it yet,” Hunter’s eyes met his partner’s.

Shawn’s gut dropped, “What are you talking about?”

Hunter exhaled, “Bret’s coming back to the company.”

There was only a certain amount of bullshit Shawn could take, and this one had to be a joke. Hunter was definitely fucking with him.

So he laughed. He laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of it; Bret hated the company and everyone involved, especially Shawn. There was no way he'd be willing to come back, even with Shawn out of action.

“Okay, I deserve that, that's a good one,” Shawn wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

The look on Hunter’s face was not playful at all, and that's when Shawn’s heart sank again.

Shawn gaped, “You’re serious.”

Suddenly, his back reminded him that he hadn’t taken his medications and a sharp pain ran throughout his spine.

Hunter sighed, “He’s been in talks with Vince for a few months now.”

“It’s hardly been a fucking year since he left,” Shawn’s voice was quiet as he spoke.

“Kevin said he only signed a year with WCW, so it was just a matter of time.”

Kevin. Traitor.

“Why wouldn't he tell me?” Shawn was feeling every emotion at once; his heart rate began to rise and he was once again on the verge of panic.

“Probably to keep you from freaking out,” Hunter said all too calmly.

“How long have you known?” Shawn’s tone became accusatory.

Hunter hesitated for a moment before coming out with the truth, “About a month.”

“And you didn't tell me because?” Shawn was furious and devastated at the same time, he felt lied to.

“Because the only thing you need to focus on is your healing and getting back in the ring, babe,” Hunter reached for Shawn’s hand, but he quickly yanked it back, “You’ve been under so much stress, I was trying to protect you.”

“I don't need protecting, Hunter. I'm a grown man, not a fucking damsel in distress,” Shawn sat back and ran a hand through his hair, still unkempt from the morning.

A moment of quiet stretched between them, Shawn’s emotions and Hunter’s logic butting heads at the same time.

“You keep losing focus on what matters,” Hunter said, finally.

“Really? That's what you chose to say right now?” Shawn scoffed back.

“Do you want your career back, Shawn? Or do you want to keep worrying about what other people are doing with their lives?” Hunter seemed at a loss, he wasn't meeting Shawn’s angry energy.

Move on, get over it. How could he? One of the biggest regrets of Shawn’s life was what he did to Bret in the end. He was a coward and a lowlife; he deserved everything bad that happened afterward.

Storming off wouldn't fix anything, but how else was Shawn supposed to react? Hunter wasn't wrong, he rarely was when it came to this type of thing, but there was just so much of his relationship with Bret that Hunter didn't know about. Those unclosed doors haunted him and as much as he wanted to forget, Shawn knew that he was just hit in the face with the reality of it all. He was going to have to live with the consequences of his actions.

Shawn’s demeanor changed. He wasn’t angry anymore; he didn't want to yell. He was regretful, but wasn't a big part of life supposed to be about growing and changing? It was so easy for Hunter to look past it all because he was on the sidelines of everything, but for Shawn, he was one of the main players.

“You can make things right, but you have to give yourself some grace,” Hunter again reached for Shawn’s hand, this time he allowed it.

Shawn in turn, squeezed his partner’s hand, tracing his knuckles with his thumb. The patience and love Hunter had for him was everything he could have ever dreamed of, but he’d never felt like he deserved it.

***

The weeks continued to burn by and Raw was in town for the night, which meant Shawn could actually attend the show. He still wasn’t in a great place to travel, but as soon as he got the clear, he’d be back on the road with Hunter. He wanted to be around wrestling again, even if he was just backstage. He’d follow Hunter around like a groupie if he had to.

“You sure you’re up to go tonight?” Hunter asked as he packed his gear bag.

Shawn was sprawled out on the bed staring at the ceiling, “I might not have a lot of friends at the moment, but it would look bad if I didn’t go.”

“Chyna will be happy to see you,” Hunter offered.

Shawn considered that for a moment, “That’s true, she’s a sweetheart.”

“And there’s Road Dogg and Pac and Billy.”

“Oh right. The guys you replaced me with,” Shawn’s voice was monotone.

He hadn’t brought up his grievances with the way Hunter was using DX as a stepping stool, but there were bigger issues than that in his life at the moment. Shawn would never rag on Hunter’s success; it just felt like the faction they’d created together was getting tossed to the side.

“You weren’t replaced, Shawn,” Hunter tossed an extra shirt into his bag, “DX isn’t some secret club.”

“X-Pac is the only one that gets a pass,” Shawn sat up, luckily with little pain for the time being, “And that’s only because he’s family.”

Members of the Kliq were always referred to as family by Shawn and Hunter. At the time, X-Pac was known as the 1-2-3 Kid, and he was often the butt of a lot of their ribbing, but he was still a brother to them. There was a long period of time where they were all each other had, especially being on the road fifty weeks out the year. The guys in the Kliq were tight; no matter how far away or how long it had been, especially now with Kevin and Scott tearing it up in WCW.

“Take it up with the boss, it’s already been done,” Hunter shrugged.

Sometimes his logic irked Shawn. Wasn’t he allowed to just be irritated sometimes?

Shawn groaned in annoyance and stood, “Whatever, can we leave now?”

Hunter shouldered his bag and gave Shawn a look, “If you’re done whining, darling.” He said sarcastically.

Shawn repeated what Hunter said in a mocking tone, making the other man grin. Sometimes they were a little mean to each other, but it always came down to them not just being partners but best friends as well.

Hunter followed as Shawn made his way out of the room, earning a yelp from the shorter man when he pinched his ass.

***

Shawn shouldn’t be nervous. This was his domain, the WWF was where he excelled; he was a top guy. So why did he feel like he was going to throw up? It had been months since he’d even been backstage and there were so many people who were entirely too happy to see him go, even if at times it felt entirely deserved. But Shawn was working on bettering himself and that meant he owed a lot of apologies.

For a long time, Shawn expressed his anger and frustration by lashing out, it was something he continued to struggle with. The fact that Hunter continued to stick by him even at his lowest spoke volumes. The least Shawn could do was support his partner at an event.

They didn’t see anyone on the way in, which was a relief to Shawn, but sooner or later he was going to have to face his fears of putting on a genuine smile and trying to play nice.

“You alright?” Hunter asked as they made their way into his dressing room.

Being a new top guy had its perks, and with it came a private dressing room. Shawn was immensely grateful for it at that moment.

“I’m not sure,” Shawn took a seat in the nearest chair, “It kind of feels like I don’t really belong here anymore.”

“Of course you belong here,” Hunter set his bag down and started to change, “You’ve been gone for a long time, it’s gonna feel a little weird.”

“Yeah that’s probably what it is, just nerves,” There was no way to explain the complex series of emotions that Shawn was feeling.

When Hunter finished changing, they left the dressing room so he could get a warm-up in. Shawn knew Hunter liked doing his warm-ups alone so he could get into a good headspace, which meant that he was going to be left to his own devices. He could opt to hide away in the dressing room, but he at least wanted to say hello to a few people.

He walked around for a bit, taking in the commotion backstage. It felt odd being on the other side of everything; observing instead of getting ready for a performance. Shawn hadn’t realized how little he paid attention in the past; there was so much happening all at once. Roadies running around putting things together, the glam department, the caterers; It took so many people for this organization to run. Was he really so egotistical that he’d taken all of it for granted?

“Hey stranger!”

Shawn turned his head towards the feminine voice and his anxiety melted. Chyna was as beautiful and buff as ever and she genuinely looked happy to see him. As much as he loved and adored Hunter, only seeing one person for months at a time probably wasn’t very good for him.

“Look at you!” Shawn greeted as he wrapped her in a hug.

“It’s so good to see you, Shawn,” She squeezed him then pulled back, “How are you feeling?”

Normally, Shawn loved to talk about himself, but he didn’t want to bore her with the fact that all he did as of late was gripe and moan and lay around the house waiting for Hunter to give him attention.

“I’m alright,” He shrugged, “Hunter keeps me spoiled.”

Chyna huffed a laugh, “I’m sure he does. When do you think you’ll be in the ring again?”

“Not sure yet, I’m just hoping I can one day,” Shawn tried to sound positive but his tone betrayed him.

Chyna gave him a sympathetic look, “You will be. They can’t get rid of you that easily.”

Shawn ached to change the subject, even though he appreciated her kind words.

“How do you feel about all the changes to DX?” He asked. If anybody knew anything, it would be her.

“I don’t love it, I'll be honest, I miss having you out there. But it’s been pretty good for everyone’s careers, especially Hunter,” She replied.

“I know,” Shawn scratched his chin, unsure of how to word what he wanted to say, “Did Hunter ever run any of it by you before it happened?”

“He just kind of started making decisions after you left. He talks to McMahon a lot more than he used to,” Chyna explained with a shrug.

So Hunter was working his way up the corporate ladder. That wasn’t inherently a bad thing, but Shawn knew firsthand how much of a slippery slope it could be.

“He hasn’t talked to you about any of this?” Chyna raised her brow.

“We don’t talk about work much,” Shawn feigned a half smile, “Try to keep home life and work life separate y’know?”

Shawn wouldn’t mention the fact that every time he turned on Raw and saw Hunter continue to move on from what they had created tore his heart in half. He also wouldn’t mention that he was so bitter about his injury that even watching wrestling in general almost brought tears to his eyes.

Chyna nodded in response, and moved to give Shawn another hug, “I have to go get ready for the show, but call me sometime, okay? I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” He squeezed her gently before letting go.

As Chyna walked away, Shawn felt his heartstrings tug; maybe he had more friends than he thought he did.

What she said about Hunter was troubling, though. Shawn always knew Hunter was meant for big things, but if Vince got too into his partner’s head, it could backfire. Hunter spent a lot of time protecting Shawn, but he’d never considered that Hunter needed protecting back. In that way, he’d been selfish.

After a moment, he continued walking throughout the backstage area, not really looking for anything in particular. Shawn knew there were certain people he wanted to avoid; Vince being one of them. He still technically worked for the man, but any interaction with Vince would just lead to talking about Shawn’s injury or his plans with Hunter, and that was something he wanted to avoid.

He wandered into the catering room with the idea of sneaking a donut on his mind when he was met with a familiar head of shaggy bright blonde hair. Shawn felt the blood drain from his face at the sight and turned to escape, but if there was any chance for him to sneak away, it was quickly ruined.

The individual in question had caught him, “Shawn?”

Shawn grimaced inwardly before responding, “Hey, Owen.”

The youngest Hart brother wasn’t someone Shawn had prepared himself to see, but as awkward as it was, Owen was a good guy. He was also someone who deserved an apology from Shawn, especially after the end of his relationship with Bret; he hadn’t seen a need to be kind to Owen, even though he had nothing to do with what happened.

And as Shawn’s luck would have it, Owen was holding a plate stacked with exactly what Shawn was looking for. The donuts backstage were always one of Shawn’s favorite treats; so much so that the talent would often bicker about there not being enough. It looked like Owen had just nabbed the last few, no doubt to bring some to share with his buddies.

“Are you healed up?” There was zero animosity in Owen’s voice because of course there wasn’t, he was always kind.

Shawn hesitated for a moment,”No, not yet. Just here to support Hunter.”

“Right,” There was an awkward silence that followed.

Shawn couldn’t blame Owen for not having much to say, in the other man’s world, Shawn was a villain. Someone who hurt his brother and tortured him afterward just for being related. Owen had no reason to even give Shawn the time of day, but here he was, asking if he was healing okay.

Shawn didn’t deserve Owen’s forgiveness nor did he deserve one of the other man’s donuts, but if he was going to try to be a better person, he needed to commit to it entirely.

Clearing his throat, Shawn finally took the long-awaited leap, “Listen, Owen. I need to apologize to you.”

Owen didn’t say anything, but he didn’t run off or punch Shawn in the face, which was a good sign that he was willing to hear what Shawn had to say.

“You didn’t have anything to do with what happened between me and your brother, and I shouldn’t have been such a dick to you. I’m sorry.”

Owen exhaled and gave Shawn a puzzled look, “I don’t know man, you used your pull with Vince to get me thrown to the mid-card for six months. I could’ve been fired if I didn’t prove that I was worth something.”

“I know, I-” Shawn felt himself getting flustered, “God, I didn’t realize I was that bad.”

Owen let out a chuckle at that, “Yeah, it wasn’t great,” he paused for a moment, then held out the plate of donuts, “Saw you eyeing these.”

Shawn gratefully took one, a smile forming, “Thanks.”

“I think you’ve suffered enough with an injury like that,” Owen shrugged, “People can change. I don’t think you’re a bad guy, I think you just have some work to do.”

Few and far people in between would so easily forgive someone like Shawn, but that just proved the decency of Owen’s character. It felt good to be on the right side of something for once.

Shawn figured he’d ask the dreaded question before things got too sappy, “So, Bret’s coming back?”

He took a bite of the donut so he didn’t have to say anything else.

Owen nodded, “He’s here tonight if you want to give him the same spiel.”

The donut turned to ash in his mouth. Of course, Bret was here. Shawn quickly swallowed and tried to think of something to say. Suddenly, the urge to hide away in Hunter’s dressing room was overwhelming; he needed to escape.

Owen must have caught on to Shawn’s change of feeling; he offered a solution, “I won’t tell him you’re here if you don’t want me to.”

“He’ll find out sooner or later,” Shawn shook his head and relented, “It’s alright. Thanks for being a good sport. I’m gonna go find a place to watch the show.”

Shawn gave Owen a pat on the shoulder before heading out of the room; he shoved the rest of the donut in his mouth and tried to think of a way he could hide and watch Hunter at the same time.

***

“There you are,” Hunter greeted Shawn at gorilla with a kiss to his temple.

“Hey,” Shawn wanted to lean into his partner’s touch, but there was too much going on around him at the moment.

Hunter was waiting for his music to hit so he could interrupt a title match. The other members of DX weren’t in sight so Shawn assumed Hunter would be going out on his own.

“I talked to Chyna,” Shawn brought up, “She said she missed me.”

“I told you she does,” Hunter said as he continued to stretch and stay warm.

Part of Shawn wanted to start an argument and bring up the fact that Hunter said nothing about Bret lurking around backstage, but then again, he’d been warned plenty in advance that Bret was coming back in the first place.

“I saw Owen in catering.”

Hunter stopped his movement and raised a brow, “Oh? How’d that go?”

“He gave me a donut,” Shawn shrugged.

Before Hunter could respond, his music hit and it was time for him to exit, “We’ll talk about it later.”

He gave Shawn’s hand a squeeze and hit the ramp; the crowd going absolutely wild at his presence. A pang of pride swelled in Shawn’s chest as he watched Hunter’s entrance on the monitor. In the years that Shawn had known Hunter, it was good to finally see all the hard work pay off. He just wanted to make sure that Hunter didn’t end up going about success in the same way Shawn had; practically letting it ruin his life and all the relationships around him. But Shawn would be the first to admit that Hunter had more of a level head on his shoulders than he did at the time. For now, he’d let the issue rest, but he promised himself to keep an eye on Raw, even if it hurt.

The event went off without a hitch and Shawn actually enjoyed himself. He’d been trapped in his head a lot and really wanted to be present for Hunter. He wanted so badly to get back in the ring himself and sometimes when he forgot how much the sport truly meant to him, it took something like a live show to bring him back in.

Knowing that Hunter would be busy with post-show interviews and promos, Shawn waited for him in a quiet area backstage. He said hello to a few of the younger wrestlers as they made their way out of the arena, assuring them that he'd be back and better than ever in no time.

Soon enough, he finally saw Hunter coming his way and politely excused himself from the small talk he’d been making.

Hunter looked exhausted but no worse for wear; Shawn was positive the man wanted nothing more than a shower and to sleep. His partner gave him a smile as he approached, but got distracted when someone called his name.

At first, Shawn assumed it would just be another employee asking about the details of next week or telling him where to be for the next house show, but Shawn could never be so lucky.

Bret made his way over to Hunter with a big smile on his face, Owen following. Hunter quickly made eye contact with Shawn before acknowledging the other; almost as if it were an apology. Shawn watched as Hunter took Bret’s hand and gave a friendly greeting then the same with Owen.

Dread filled Shawn’s mind but he tried to fight it. It was inevitable that he’d see Bret again one day given their history, but watching his current partner act friendly with his ex-partner did nothing to squash his nerves. He wanted to run up and tug Hunter away without saying a thing; he wanted to keep what was his and not share with anyone.

The only thing that made it so difficult was that they seemed to genuinely enjoy talking to each other like they’d been familiar for a while. Hunter knew the history; he’d watched it all happen from a bird’s eye view. In the end, Hunter ended up with Shawn, so shouldn’t he be quick to side with his lover?

It wasn’t until Bret turned and finally saw Shawn standing there like a deer in the headlights, that the true apprehension set in.

He saw Owen give his brother a tap and mouth something as he pointed in the other direction with his thumb; sweet Owen, he was always looking out for others and their feelings. Bret hadn’t broken eye contact with Shawn though, and he could feel his heart rise into his throat.

Shawn looked to Hunter, the man who saved him, someone who always had an answer to the problems, but the bigger man had no solution as he let Bret approach him.

The anxiety and fear of facing his biggest regret caught up to Shawn too fast and it suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. The room was getting entirely too small; he wanted Hunter, an anchor, someone, but Shawn suddenly realized how alone he truly was.

He turned and ran.

The car. He needed to get to the car. He’d wait for Hunter and then be as good as gone. Ran was an overstatement, Shawn’s back wasn’t going to let him go anywhere fast, but at that point, he didn’t care.

He’d almost made it to the parking garage entrance when his back finally made a protest he couldn’t ignore. The sharp pain ran down his spine causing Shawn to stop in his tracks and grimace in pain, he wanted to cry out but his panicked breathing made it too difficult. He reached out to grab the wall for support and leaned his forehead against the cool concrete.

Shawn expected pandemonium around him, but nothing came. The backstage area had mostly cleared out as it was, so there weren’t very many people to witness his panic attack, but that didn’t change the fact that Bret was still nearby and had seen all of it.

A gentle touch was soon laid on his shoulder and Shawn knew that it was Hunter. Relief should have flooded his system, but all Shawn felt was shame. He was such an embarrassment, and he couldn’t blame Hunter if he decided to leave.

“You okay?” The bigger man asked gently.

Shawn shook his head still pressed against the wall, he was still trying to catch his breath.

“I told them it wasn’t a good time, they’re gone,” Hunter added.

Shawn winced at Hunter’s words, he’d never felt so defeated in his life, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Hunter said with finality, “I need to change, but I’ll forgo the shower so we can get home quicker, okay?”

Nodding, Shawn finally pulled away from the wall, “I don’t know what happened. It felt like I couldn’t breathe-”

“Shawn, Bret’s not going to hurt you,” Hunter tried to reason.

It wasn’t that. Shawn knew Bret would never physically lay a hand on him, at least outside of the ring, but that wasn’t what set him off. It was the remorse and blame he felt towards himself. Shawn had been able to face Owen and give a proper apology, but with Bret, the flame of anguish burned so much deeper.

Shawn just shook his head, as much as he tried, Hunter wouldn’t understand.

[cdelphiki]

A Rock in a Weary Place excerpt

I haven't done a WIP Wednesday in forever. It's almost Wednesday so here we go. A Rock in a Weary Place is part two of my Clark-adopts-Billy AU and I am so excited about it. I've finally gotten some good work done on it, but since it's a long one-shot (I don't actually know how long, but I wouldn't be shocked if it exceeds 10k) it'll be a while before its done. So here's an excerpt!!!! Of course any and all of this can change between now and posting the final.

-

Clark felt… lost.

For as long as he’d been planning and scheming on how to get Billy Batson off the streets, he hadn’t fully realized what taking a kid into his home would fully entail.

Because, for all the talk about how he’d be more like a roommate to Billy… he also realized that he couldn’t be just a roommate.

He was the adult. He had to be— the adult. And Billy was the kid. Clark was providing for Billy, and that was that.

Which meant, Clark had to cook food.

A lot.

He’d never really cooked before, when it was just him. He ordered food, usually. Or just ate something microwavable. Ma would be upset, if she knew that.

But she didn’t know, so she couldn’t be upset.

If she found out he fed Billy, a “growing boy,” primarily greasy take out and cheap microwave dinners… Well Clark wasn’t sure he’d find a place on Earth safe from her wrath. And since he was Martha Kent’s son, he did know how to cook.

So that’s what he did.

A lot now.

Breakfast and dinner every day, and lunch on the weekends too. Although there had only been one weekend with Billy, so far. Five days in total.

How did five short days feel like an eternity?

“Smallville,” Lois nearly sang, “Yoohoo, hello? Is anyone home?”

Clark looked up from his laptop screen and smiled sheepishly at Lois, where she was leaning over his desk almost between him and his computer. He’d been zoning out a lot recently. “Sorry Lois,” he said, “what did you say?”

“What is up with you,” she exasperated, sitting back down into her chair, across their back-to-back desks from him, “you’re so…. distracted lately!”

“Oh nothing,” Clark said, as he leaned back in his chair, trying his best to give her his undivided attention, “just a lot on my mind.”

“Such as…” she prodded, leaning forward further into his personal space. When Clark didn’t reply other than to offer another sheepish smile, she let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Okay fine, I’ve got a new story for us. You won’t believe it, but there’s competition for Superman.”

“What?” Clark asked.

Lois grinned.“You know that guy from Fawcett? Captain Marvel? He’s been spotted in Metropolis this week.”

Clark resisted a laugh. He had known that, of course. “Really?” he asked anyway.

“Yes, and this morning, you’ll never believe it,” Lois said, as she went ahead and fully sat up on his desk, her arms moving all over the place as she spoke, “I was walking from the garage when this kid walked right out into the road without looking, and Captain Marvel swooped in and grabbed him before he got hit by a car. It was incredible! And I got to see Captain Marvel close up.”

“Did you now?” Clark asked with a grin.

“Yes, and let me tell you, he’s handsome. Superman has some real competition there.”

Clark… wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Billy was just a child. A ten-year-old boy. But Clark couldn’t tell Lois that. How would Clark even know that?

He just hoped he never had to have that conversation with Billy, either. Adults shouldn’t be looking at him as if he were an adult.

But.

That was a concern, wasn’t it? Billy had said so himself. Sometimes he wasn’t a kid. Half the time, Billy was an adult. In form, at least.

They definitely would have to have a conversation, wouldn’t they?

Clark… Clark had no idea how to go about that.

“We should do some scouting this evening. Listen to the police scanner and see if we can catch Captain Marvel, just like we used to do with Superman, remember?”

He nodded absently. That had always been… interesting. Having to come up with excuse after excuse to slip away for a moment, all while Lois was trying her best to see Superman.

No matter how fun that had been, he couldn’t do that again. Because. He had to go home and feed Billy.

Also, Billy probably wouldn’t go out and about that time, anyway. He usually did his work during the daylight, and stayed in at night. Clark hadn’t seen him out at night much at all, not even before he came to live in Metropolis.

“Smallville,” Lois snapped, “Clark. Tonight. Scouting. What do you say?”

Clark looked back at her and tried to look regretful as he said, “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“Can’t?” she exclaimed, scowling hard, “Why not?”

“I have plans,” he said simply.

Because he did. Feed the kid.

“Plans with who,” she demanded, “You haven’t been available all week!”

He spluttered and held his two hands up in surrender. “It’s not like that. I’m just busy. Besides, has Captain Marvel been seen after dark much anyway?”

Lois narrowed her eyes, but then sat back as she clearly thought it over, then muttered, “Hm. I wonder if he gets his strength from the sun or something.”

“Hey, maybe,” he said, as he pushed his chair back and stood up. He shut his laptop and slipped it into his bag before he grabbed his coat and said, “I’ve got to get going, but I’ll see you tomorrow. We can talk more about this new hero tomorrow.”

He felt mildly bad he’d blown her off three times already. He’d only had Billy for five days, and three of those days he’s had to blow Lois off.

They used to spend almost all day together, weekends to. Clark already missed that…

“Yeah, yeah,” Lois said, as she slid off his desk and returned to hers, “go do whatever. Tomorrow we’re scouting for Captain Marvel, Kent, don’t forget it.”

[weebsinstash]

Ugh okay I’m not sure if this will really fit with ur ideas but whenever anyone brings up group yanderes I’m always drawn to a specific scenario: Reader, by some miracle, gets a significant other outside of the group that, again, by a miracle, they don’t know about (I’m thinking, in this scenario, Reader travels through universes often to hang out with different spiders, and in a universe they visit frequently, they sneak off and see someone whenever the local spider is doing their spider stuff). Said s/o breaks up with Reader and they’re obviously upset. The group starts freaking tf out because their darling’s upset and not telling anyone what’s wrong, while Reader’s going through a whole internal conflict because they know they’ll be in trouble if they tell the truth, but also they know their ex will be in MAD trouble, so they’re desperately trying to hide the whole situation, which only makes things worse as the group descended into chaos, knowing that their darling is hiding *something* and not telling anyone. The whole spiderverse is working together to manipulate you/figure out what’s going on. People like Jess, Pav, and Gwen try to approach you as sympathetic friends who you can vent your issues to, while characters like Miguel and Hobie are much more upfront in telling you to tell them what’s going on, not even asking. When the truth does inevitably get revealed, it’s hell on earth for both you and your ex. (Bonus; imagine if said ex actually hurt you in some way other than breaking up, like admitting to cheating or was generally cruel to you either during the relationship or just in the breakup. The fury of your captors would be biblical)

God and from their perspective some/most of it is justified because you're walking around SIGNIFICANTLY more depressed than before, you're starting to become more anxious and jumpy, and with some people you're outright lashing out in anger if they press you on the subject, so like, even if some of the Spiders are trying to invade your privacy or even manipulate you, from their side, there's no telling how serious this problem actually is, or if it's nothing to be concerned about (in the grand scheme of things, you having a fight with your partner isn't some world shattering event, but to THEM it's 'wait Reader's been dating? who???' And like virtually no matter who it is, if they're a Normie they aren't good enough by the Society/your group's standards. Although technically if dating could potentially interfere with any of your future canon events, well, then you have a particular spicy papi very upset with you...)

So like, I haven't seen all clips of Miguel's scenes and speaking lines yet but I've been spoiling myself to a little more (I aim to see spiderverse on the big screen this weekend so I was kinda leaving some to surprise, fucking hid all my wax and edibles, im gonna dry out for a few days and hit some dabs and see this shit in IMAX and itll rewire my fucking brain shits gonna be so good) but oh my god this man gets so fucking scary. He's just on his brooding platform already stressed as fuck which is a constant state he lives in at this point and here's Jess and Peter B as concerned parents to fill him in on their concerns, what they've seen from you: sudden increased self isolating, crying more, becoming more withdrawn and quiet, refusing to talk to them about it, trying to spend all your time alone. Miguel just, trying to tether the last pieces of his mental sanity together as he decides to go visit you personally, and he can immediately tell you're hiding something from all the darting glances to the fact you don't want to look him in the eyes.

Like can you imagine, I guess it depends on how you see Reader "going about", like do they have their own home universe or whatever, but, Miguel hasn't confronted you himself yet and he decides, fine, you want to keep secrets, good fucking luck, and all of his dimensional watches he's given out are probably connected to the same servers and systems so he just, looks up your travel log and quickly identifies that you've been visiting the same universe repeatedly, but none of your friends seem to know why you would be going there. Say you've been hanging around in Gwen's universe and Miguel assumes, oh maybe you're spending time with Gwen, maybe that emo little drummer said something to upset you, but Gwen looks confused (and a little upset) when it turns out you've been apparently popping in her universe without even saying hi? And Miguel is gritting his teeth because he's starting to form a theory on what's going on and he doesn't like it one fucking bit

He teams up with Jess and Peter B and Gwen and some of your other pals and he starts triangulating your bracelet and. Wow what the fuck you're in Gwen's dimension RIGHT NOW. So then they all race towards your location to watch from a distance, some real loony tunes, "all 6 or 7 of us are hiding behind the same tree" bullshit, and, there you are from a distance, out of costume as you're clearly very upset, talking to someone that, most of the Spiders recognize instantly minus characters like Pav and Jess and Miguel and there's this resounding GROAN OF DISGUST "oh god, NOT FLASH THOMPSON" (for Spiderman lore newbies this is literally the character that bullies the fuck out of Peter Parker in high school like literal actual shoving him into lockers shit)

Peni uses her mech to send out a listening device and everyone is comically gathered around as they eavesdrop and start getting progressively more furious as they start piecing things together: you HAD been there to visit Gwen initially, but somehow you met Flash out of costume and the jockey SOMEHOW managed to woo you, but the relationship quickly became manipulative and controlling until you eventually caught Flash with another person. They're all GRITTING THEIR TEETH as you're in tears, asking him what you did wrong, where did you mess up, and Flash basically tells you to your face, "you're nothing special, I got bored of you"

Your little groupie gang of platonic and romantic yandere WITH STEAM BLOWING OUT OF THEIR EARS as you whimper "but... you-you said you loved me! We SLEPT together!" And he just. Fucking laughs in your face, SHOVES YOU, and calls you a slut before walking away with someone else on his arm

Gwen absolutely seething as she reflects on how Flash treated her Peter and Pavitr is swearing curses onto his entire family line meanwhile Hobie just like "oy would it break canon if I smash my guitar over that pisser's head". Peter 'I just wanna talk to him' B Parker as he hands Mayday off to Jess while cracking his knuckles. Miguel is, well, upset about like 10 different things because God fucking damn it, how long have you been hanging around with non-Spiders in other universes? (Do you think the Spider Society would be like, more than just a little possessive and insular, since youre supposed to be part of the Ha Ha We're All Spiderman club and they catch you hanging with normies over them) Is there anyone else? What have you been doing? He's just instantly a mixture of furious and hurt because damn it don't you know you're like his favorite, why the fuck are you running around potentially flirting with canon, don't you know how dangerous this is

But also deadass he wants to tear that man apart with his claws and he's considering checking the canon events of this universe to see if he can make it so

The Gang just watching as you pick yourself up but can't stop crying, and you drag your feet as you head to sit in a park or something, seeming like your entire form and surroundings are nothing but a depressed, deep blue. You're in a park or something so they can't exactly approach you normally because there are people around, but you just sit there crying for ages before you eventually pick yourself up and draaaaaag your feet, seeming to walk around aimlessly until, eventually, you go to a dark alley or under a bridge somewhere and they all pop out at you just as you're about to warp home anyways and you're just immediately bombarded by all these people

"Hey, you know what he said isn't true, right? Dude's a punk bitch!"

"Scuse me? I take that personally. He IS a total fuckin wanker though"

"Hon, you can't let what some ego-tripping blonde who peaked in high school said make you feel like this! He ain't worth it!"

And you're just standing there looking at them as your heart breaks a little more because you HAD been wanting some kind of support in all of this but you're muttering out with disbelief, "you guys followed me...?" And you're really hurt by that, but, here comes Miguel, stalking forward, putting a hand on your shoulder that's one part sympathetic comfort, one part possessive anger as he glowers at you with chestnut eyes that almost look RED, "anything else you wanna share?"

Miguel marching back to the weekly We Love Reader meeting and slapping a graphic up onto the wall with your face like a PSA "THIS Spider FUCKS and only YOU can stop it" fhfjfjg no not really but like non yandere Spiders are doing their own thing when, from a secret meeting room somewhere in Nueva York, the ground practically shakes with dozens upon dozens if not hundreds of voices crying out in agony "NOT FLASH THOMPSON 😩"

Bonus points if like, one of the things The Gang had witnessed was you crying and all that right, but, what if Reader had specifically said to Flash, "but I gave you my VIRGINITY" like. Mayhem. Pandemonium. All the Spiders have a sudden "aha!" because wow no wonder you suddenly started talking about how you're worthless and don't matter, this DICK HEAD lured you into a false sense of security and trust and then took your virginity and bounced while calling you a fucking loser and judging by that shove, has maybe even put his hands on you before? Like fuckinnnngggg The Society and your entire friend group freaking the fuck out one day because you have a black eye one day you were trying to hide with sunglasses and you say it was from a Villain but they're all like Nah Fam That's Sus because how would a villain pop one off on your face when you have super strength and Spidey Sense and they get you/intimidate you to open up and it's like, oh, that was because your "boyfriend" didnt like how you thought you smelled someone else's perfums/cologne on him and he lost his temper when you pressed him for answers, and even when you tell them the truth you're still crying with a small laugh, "it was my fault, I should've backed off and realized I was upsetting him"

Reader just gets surrounded by all their friends and "the cute Spiders" like the cat Spiderman and oh my fucking god there's a plushie Spiderman and just, gosh, they try to basically smother you with love to cheer you up and bring your confidence back but your heart has been wounded and needs time to heal 🥺 regardless, later on Detective Stacey is having to investigate and finds Mr Thompson in an alleyway with a busted knee that permanantly ends any sort of athletic career and the words "CHEATER" cut across his body in multiple places while he's covered in scratches, bruises, bites, and he keeps mumbling the weirdest most incoherent shit under his breath that gets him hospitalized

"The- the pig... it TALKED... it pulled out a HAMMER... from its POCKET... the pig... had ... POCKETS..."

[msclaritea]

Stargate is a 1994 science fiction action-adventure film directed and co-written by Roland Emmerich. The film is the first entry in the Stargate media franchise and stars Kurt Russell, James Spader, Jaye Davidson, Alexis Cruz, Mili Avital, and Viveca Lindfors. The plot centers on the titular "Stargate", an ancient ring-shaped device that creates a wormhole, enabling travel to a similar device elsewhere in the universe. The central plot explores the theory of extraterrestrial beings having an influence upon human civilization.

Less than Zero is a 1987 American drama film directed by Marek Kanievska, loosely based on the 1985 novel of the same name by Bret Easton Ellis. The film stars Andrew McCarthy as Clay, a college freshman returning home for Christmas to spend time with his ex-girlfriend Blair (Jami Gertz) and his friend Julian (Robert Downey Jr.), both of whom have become drug addicts. The film presents a look at the culture of wealthy, decadent youth in Los Angeles.

Key Takeaways:

– James Spader recollects his time working with Robert Downey Jr. during ‘Less Than Zero'.

– The co-star noticed how Downey Jr.'s destructive lifestyle influenced his performance.

– Spader admired Downey Jr.'s turnaround when they next met on the set of Avengers: Age of Ultron.

Globally acclaimed actor Robert Downey Jr. is widely acknowledged for his phenomenal roles in the Hollywood film industry. Within his illustrious career, his portrayal of Tony Stark in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), starting with Iron Man, stands out. However, even successful journeys have challenging beginnings. For Robert Downey Jr., his journey was marred by a period of drug abuse and legal troubles.

James Spader, co-star of Robert Downey Jr. in the 1987 drama ‘Less Than Zero', recently shed some light on his experience working with Downey Jr. during these testing times. Spader elucidates upon the heartbreaking moment he observed Downey Jr., a talented actor, struggling with destructive habits on the set of ‘Less Than Zero'. His concern for his co-star was compounded by the character Downey Jr. played – an addict.

“I'm gonna go drain the snake,” Downey Jr. would often mumble to himself during filming, leaving his co-star and others on set perplexed.

Downey Jr.'s character in ‘Less Than Zero' is often viewed as a mirror reflection of the actor's tumultuous past, with real-life drug abuse issues being mirrored on-screen. An actor of Downey Jr.'s caliber and his involvement borderline signaled a cry for help that resonated with his audience. This deep connection between his life's challenges and his screen roles turned Downey Jr. into Hollywood's dark horse at that time.

Spader retold his experience about Downey Jr.'s deplorable state during the filming of ‘Less Than Zero', “I found him heartbreaking in ‘Less Than Zero,' and I found him heartbreaking at the time.”

RDJ's physical deterioration, evidenced by patches of dead skin, only made the situation look grim.

However, as they say, every cloud has a silver lining. Downey Jr. made a remarkable turnaround with his life and career. His subsequent meeting with Spader on the set of Avengers: Age of Ultron as a changed person would have been a proud moment for the Blacklist actor. His journey from self-destruction to being one of the biggest stars in Hollywood is nothing short of inspirational.

In the film, the Avengers fight Ultron (Spader)—an artificial intelligence created by Tony Stark (Downey) and Bruce Banner (Ruffalo)—who plans to bring about world peace by causing human extinction.

I don't need to say ONE WORD. The crap loads of Predictive Programming from just three projects says it all. I mean... besides milking it for more sympathy, why keep bringing up RDJ's past drug use? It's pretty humiliating, but also must have a purpose.

Bonus:

[night-faye]

"Let the demon child come out and play!" everybody who knows Nezha lore turns to stare at the camera. I knew with this episode, you'd have two more reasons to hate Peng than just Macky and Mei lol. "This isn't worth your life." "You're right. It's worth far more than that." *sighs in lore.* You need therapy too, this show made it worse. "No matter what options it's giving you, you're always going to end up in the same spot." "Ooooh, thanks Macaque. You went through more effort than usual to make me feel like dirty dirt dirt. Good job, round of applause." ABSOLUTELY CRACKING UP AT MK DISHING OUT ALL THIS SASS AND MACKY'S STUMPED LOOK AND AWKWARD EYE ROLL gosh that face- "You were supposed to realize by now that the choices the game's giving you aren't the only choices you've got. Life isn't some pre-written thing like a video game where you have to do what the tutorial says." "It's time to start making your own choices. Something I wish I'd learned a lot sooner than I did." DULY NOTING THIS DOWN FOR THE S4 SPECIAL. We know, it's hard for you to be pushy when you were younger, always following Wukong and friends. Also ow, the cut to the drawing they made together :') two different art styles, they DID draw that together and Wukong kept it all this time :') :') :') Well now that we're in the S4 special uh hehe, you can see where it comes in :) "Only you get to decide who you are, kiddo." That had NO right to be as soft as it was. Haha yep, very weird how the Celestial beings instantly react to that. Only other thing those three have in common excluding MK is dying and being brought back in different ways.

1) SoySauce Duo is a TREASURE. It's so funny watching MK gush about how Wukong was all cute and cheeky, no WAY he did nothing wrong. "Sir, my client is just a fluffy monkey. Let him go. Is it a crime to be silly?" He'd make a great lawyer lol. Meanwhile, Macky is RIGHT THERE lol. It's ok we already heard his perspective. But he's holding back and is just like.......dude. did you even read the book.

2) Love love love the trope of Macky constantly collecting more monkeys. Those little guys missed him a lot, surely. Also LOL at MK laughing at Macky's expense over being called "bud." There's a misconception that Macky would be calling Wukong "peaches" nah that's all stuff like "your majesty" meanwhile Wukong is nicknaming this grumpy ball of fluff something cute like "peaches." Hard agree with his anguish tho like tell us what happened already for realsies we're still waiting for part 2!! 3) "We have to try. He'd do the same for any of us." Meanwhile Macky: *thinking back to MK's S3 rant and the cave divorce* "I can't believe I'm sticking my neck out for Wukong. Again." says monkey not being forced to do anything. Love also, how he apparently read all 2,000 pages of this book. just divorced ex-best friend nemesis you want to kill things. ALSO 😭 that "Wukong, what have you done." has crazy emotion. you two know each other so deeply. Notice how Wukong's eyebrows used to be all messy like Macky's here 🤔 something something, monkey who tries to appear more like a civilized human to belong somewhere and not be seen as a savage beast. 4) Who knows really why Macky was bandaging himself alone or what fight he got into off screen. Just warrior things. But hey 👀 that promise he reminded Macky of in the 2nd ep this season. It is ILLEGALLY CUTE AND PRECIOUS how Wukong is able to dispel any doubts or concerns Macky has just by poking him all goofy like that and UGH THE CUTE SHY SMILES THAT HE CAN'T HELP BC OF HIS STUPID OPTIMISTIC SHINING LIGHT OF A FRIEND and the FREAKING HAIR RUFFLE "Quit it, eat your dang peach." He says with a complete smile audible in his voice bc his friend is stupidly endearing. "You're a peach!" OKAY WUKONG.

>*throws myself off a cliff*<

[slashingdisneypasta]

(M.I.) Finally got a chance to update! (Also, only vaguely on topic...am I wrong or is Fay wearing Blackie's coat when she goes to meet Angela's ex-lover? The guy who gets run over? And speaking of, that woman played the film noir seemingly innocent femme fatale to the hilt. It was just *chef's kiss*)

1980

It's a slow, drifting through outerspace kind of day. The kind that makes you afraid to get near the exit doors in case you go tumbling out, but you can still enjoy the view from the window. Curled in your favorite spot in the center booth, knees drawn up and wedged against the table.

Nothing but stars laid out in every direction. And...oh! What planet was that? Jupiter? Looked a little bit like Jupiter. Cool.

Back on Earth, it's May. Or you think it is. A customer said it was a couple days -was it only that long?- ago without mentioning the actual date. It could already be June.

To be honest, you've gone from not noticing to not really caring about time. Since Tommy's departure, you've got one other marker: Valentine's Day. It's guaranteed that if you and Blackie don't agree to go out, the two of you will be locked up somewhere that's practically dripping in cheesy romance.

Your clothes change according to where The Cafe sends you rather than the season, the uniform a near-constant pink monotony, otherwise. Blackie has a more extensive daily wardrobe no matter how similar it all looks, and that's not very fair in your opinion. Maybe you should ask The Cafe to give you a closet of your own, let you pick something different to wear around the place on your days off?

(Not that The Cafe doesn't have good taste, you're just getting a little tired of having it decide for you. Especially when it's so clearly designed to catch a certain someone's eye. Would a pair of frumpy pajamas be too much to ask?)

Your body, on the other hand, will never change again. At least as far as aging is concerned. You've made an effort with your hair since following the trends seems to put people more at ease -probably makes you look less like a ghost- and keeps you feeling tethered to reality. You're slipping more and more these days, but...

But.

May's important for some reason. You know that. It's just gone when you try to grasp why.

"What am I forgetting," you ask, tracking a shooting star through the void.

A cupcake appears on the table in front of you, bearing a candle. And you remember: Tommy's birthday was in May.

You eat the cupcake because it's delicious. But you feel terrible. It's been so long since you even thought about his birthday. Or yours. Even longer since you've thought about your parents' birthdays. Or their anniversary. Christmas...all the dates that used to be so important are just...gone.

"Can I see mom and dad?"

The screen flashes to life, and there they are. So much older than when you left. It's odd to see them eating dinner and going about their lives as if you never existed. You watch for a few minutes, hoping, but your name doesn't even enter the conversation. Just random chitchat about upcoming plans with friends.

"Turn it off."

Your voice is thick with grief, but you don't feel you've a right to let the tears come. You forgot them. It's fair they did the same to you.

"What the he-"

Blackie's voice. He sounds startled, the words cutting off with a thud. You turn around, peering over the bench just in time to see him splayed against the jukebox with an unusual lack of grace. He spots you after recovering his balance and glares accusingly at the ceiling; brushing himself off with an air of wounded dignity that almost makes you smile.

He appears to be listening to something, then gives a distinctly martyred sigh. You wonder what's been said that you can't hear. Sitting down across from you, he folds his hands on the table. Primly inconvenienced.

"I've been ordered to cheer you up."

"No, thanks," you say, returning to your curled up position. "I'd rather wallow."

"I tried."

He shrugs, glancing upward as if asking permission to leave. Despite the careless words, you already know he's not leaving. Not when he's twirled a cigar out of thin air, lighting up and settling in to listen.

It makes you roll your eyes and smile just a little bit. A very short-lived bit.

"I can't remember what Tommy looked like," you admit. "His eyes were green...right?"

"Brown. And he had a chipped tooth on the-"

Blackie points to the location of said tooth in his own mouth, your voice joining his as you remember.

"-front left. From a baseball when he was twelve," you continue alone. "He'd also broken the living room window with the same ball just the week before. He never did learn to be careful. Drove his mom crazy."

But it's only a little piece of Tommy. A memory conjured up by someone else. You think his smile was crooked. Or maybe it was too wide? Or maybe that's you mixing his features up with Blackie's, filling in pieces of a face you'll never see again with one you see all the time.

"I don't wanna forget," you say. "Not just him. My family, my friends. He was the only piece of home I had left and now...I'm losing all of it."

Something sympathetic and honest flashes in Blackie's eyes. It's rare you see it directed at anyone, but especially at you. Not that he doesn't like you well enough by now, but you're in the category of friendly arch-rival. You get snarky teasing more often than you get sympathy.

"Memory's a curse." He inhales on the cigar, exhaling the next words on a cloud of smoke. "You'll hold onto people long after they've forgotten you."

"Feels like they already have."

"What did you expect? It's been twenty years since you left."

It startles you to hear. Two decades, and you've spent one of them in immortal limbo.

"That's such a long time," you say, mentally floundering to grasp the enormity of it.

"In human terms, maybe. But we had this one guy for an entire century and for us it was no time at all."

Blackie looks to the window as he speaks. Giving a hint the 'or something' who jokes about pulling the wings off pterodactyls may never have been human in the first place.

But something about his tone and inability to maintain eye contact says he's confessing so much more.

You know he's been here from the beginning and The Cafe wasn't always a cafe. It was a cave. A hut. A tavern. A speakeasy. Any place that looked welcoming to the ones who'd lost their way.

Reading between the lines, you suddenly understand he remembers millenia of loss. People who'd passed through and he'd maybe cared about, though he'll never admit it. They left him the way Tommy left you. And that higher authority, the light Blackie can't look at, keeps throwing people in here with no regard for how that must feel.

It strikes you as very cruel.

You can't resist voicing your thoughts out loud, wanting to know if you're right. If he'll eventually be the only person who can even recall you existed.

"You don't forget, do you?"

He takes another slow draw on the cigar, smoke drifting toward the window when he finally answers.

"Not a single one."

Ack-

Oh Blackie.

This chapter is just as good as the others- of course!!! I get so excited every time you update you don't even know XD

I especially love the Cafe forcing Blackie to do things 😅😅😂 Haha XDD

She's sad, go talk to her.

No, I don't like her. She's mean to me.

You're mean to her.

*Blackie doesn't say anything, crosses his arms and looks away like he suddenly 'can't hear' the cafe*

*Cafe shoves him (via otherworldly power) into the room. Who does he think she is???*

[starkerscoop]

Vacant Mind (Ch. 13)

Ch. 12

also on ao3

The tension between Peter and Tony was palpable.

The tower wasn’t far from the restaurant, but the distance seemed to stretch on the farther they walked. Peter took small peeks at Tony, trying to gauge how he was feeling. He was preparing to break the silence himself when Tony beat him to the punch.

“Peter,” Tony said slowly, as if hesitant to speak his mind. “Can I ask you something without you getting mad?” 

Peter cocked his head to the side. “Yes?” 

“Are you lying about not remembering Daniel?” At Peter’s disbelieving look, Tony shrugged. “You don’t have to spare my feelings. Whatever you two had, it’s in the past.” 

Peter drew in a long breath, gathering the few morsels of patience he had left. “I am not lying.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Tony admitted, teeth catching on his bottom lip. “I’d rather have you be a liar than an amnesiac.” 

“I’ll take that into consideration next time,” Peter grouched.

Tony released a soft sigh, vulnerable in a way he never usually allowed himself to be in public, whispering, “I don’t want you to forget me.” 

“That’s not possible,” Peter said resolutely, latching on to Tony’s hand where it hung limply at his side.

Tony didn’t say anything for a while, only tightening his grip on Peter. They were nearly at the tower when he asked, “Do you find Daniel attractive?” 

“Are you really jealous?” Peter raised his eyebrows skeptically, holding back a laugh that threatened to burst free at any moment.

Tony rolled his eyes. “I don’t get jealous.”

“So that’s a yes.” Peter smiled, squeezing his hand gently. “I don’t find him attractive, Tony.” 

Tony squinted at him. “You tried to ‘get in his pants’.”

“I was drunk,” Peter countered.

Tony pushed him away lightly. “The classic cheater’s excuse.” 

“We weren’t even together yet,” Peter said defensively. “And anyway, you said it yourself. It’s all in the past.” 

Tony frowned. “I did say that, didn’t I?” 

“You’re the one who gets nominated for sexiest man alive every year.” Peter reminded him. 

Sometimes, all it took to cheer Tony up was to stroke his ego.

Tony huffed cockily, squaring his shoulders. “He has nothing on me.” 

“Oh yeah.” Peter nodded along, snickering quietly. 

They entered the tower and made a beeline for the private elevator, which opened before they could press the button to call it, as if it was waiting for them. Peter aimed a grateful smile at FRIDAY’s nearest sensor and stepped in. The elevator was carrying them up when Tony’s phone buzzed in his pocket. 

Tony ignored it, watching the numbers rise on the screen that rested above the array of buttons. 

“Are you going to answer that?” Peter asked when the phone continued to vibrate insistently. 

Tony looked surprised. “Why would I? I’ve got great company already.” 

“It could be important,” Peter pointed out. 

“Your incoming call is from Dr. Stephen Strange, Boss.” FRIDAY pitched in helpfully. 

It was Peter’s turn to be surprised. “That guy has a phone? I thought that was against wizard law.”

“Who knows?” Tony shrugged. 

At Peter’s pointed look, Tony groaned, throwing his head back. “Fine. I’ll answer.” 

The elevator doors slid open just as Tony accepted the call, which connected to the speakers throughout the penthouse. Peter could listen in too. Tony wasn’t going to keep anything from him anyway. 

“Stark,” Stephen spoke through gritted teeth. “Why must you be so hard to reach?” 

Tony threw his hands up. “Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m a genius, billionaire, ex-playboy, philanthropist. A guy gets busy with so many titles.” 

Peter smiled to himself at Tony’s description. 

Stephen muttered something indiscernible under his breath before speaking up again. “I’ve got a sorcerer on the loose. Have you seen anything?” 

Tony hummed in interest. “No. What’s he up to?” 

“There’s a sorceress in the presidential cabinet. She keeps an eye on the rest of them and reports back to me if she notices anything that concerns the metaphysical. She’s my direct contact in the event that something world-ending is on the rise. I need you to keep that quiet.” Stephen’s voice was firm.

Tony glanced at Peter. Well, two could keep a secret. “What does she know?”

“The entire cabinet has been complaining of headaches, weakness, and confusion. She’s noticed a trace of magic around them.” 

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed. “Someone’s tampering with their health.” 

“Yes,” Stephen confirmed.

“So, why isn’t she experiencing the same thing?” Peter piped up.

Stephen stayed silent for a moment. “Parker’s here?” 

“He is and he’s not leaving.” Tony gestured for Peter, who was inching towards the door, to stay in the room. 

“I would expect nothing less,” Stephen said, annoyed. “My contact is resistant to the sorcerer’s magic. She’s more powerful than he is.” 

Tony figured it made sense. “How do you know it’s a guy?” 

“There’s about ten seconds of CCTV footage from the White House before all the cameras shorted out. I can send it over,” Stephen said.

Tony sank down onto his couch, grabbing a tablet from the coffee table. “He’s probably left DC by now. I’ll have FRIDAY scan for his face throughout the country. We have backdoor access to just about every camera, but it might take a while to find him.”

“I’m going to ignore how illegal that is. Thank you for the help.” Stephen forced out the words as if they physically pained him to say.

Tony grinned. “What’s one more task when you have a thousand?” 

Stephen hung up the phone and sent over the footage. Peter joined Tony on the couch, curling up next to him and peering at the tablet’s screen. The footage was dark and grainy; they could barely make out the man stalking through the carpeted hall, a cloak billowing behind him. The video ended before they could see where he was going. 

“What do you think he was doing?” Peter murmured, staring at the sorcerer’s vague outline. 

Tony shook his head. “Nothing good. Maybe he was planting something for the cabinet.” 

“Something that tampers with their health when they encounter it, so he doesn’t have to do it himself,” Peter mused. “It doesn’t sound too far-fetched.” 

Tony tossed aside the tablet. “I’ll have FRIDAY on the case, but she might not find anything. That wasn’t exactly 4K quality.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for anything suspicious,” Peter said.

Tony pursed his lips. “I’m more worried about you than David Copperfield. We still need to get you checked out.” 

“It’s too late now.” Peter nodded towards the windows, which revealed the darkened sky. “I’ll have to go tomorrow.” 

“I’m going with you.” Tony tugged him into his arms, feeling the need to be closer. “You better be okay, Parker.” 

“I always am.”

-

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