#then everyone was like let’s go tot he bar
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ok I’m heading home now after spending too much money
#blahblahblah#was my friends birthday we went to fire and ice and spent hella#then everyone was like let’s go tot he bar#so I went even though I knew I couldn’t really afford it#and then they were talking about going to more bars and I had to leave#Boston bars are outrageously priced like a tiny ass drink is 18 dollars#I did kinda force it and got two drinks two shots but still!!! if I went to the local dive bar it would’ve been more than halfofwhat I paid#and I’m barely drunk#like more tipsy than anything#ok thanks for reading 😘
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title: toyin’ with them older guys
pairing: bartender!joel miller/female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
chapters: 1/1
read on ao3 | masterlist
summary:
Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder.
But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation.
Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.
author’s note: thank you to everyone who hyped me up to post this when i wasn’t sure how i felt about it. your comments mean the world 💕
content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), alternate universe - no cordyceps outbreak, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, alcohol references/consumption, possessive behavior, jealousy, mild violence (in the form of Joel kicking someone out of his bar), brief reference to Sarah’s mom and divorce, tinder dates, bribery, dirty talk, begging, pet names, praise kink, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), spanking. let me know if i’ve missed anything!
There’s a bar near the university that you love to go to for multiple reasons.
For one, they have great drinks. For two, their loaded tater tots are the best drunk food you’ve ever had the pleasure of consuming.
But the number one reason, above all else, is the grumpy bartender and owner, Joel Miller.
The first time you saw him, he was challenging a kid with a fake ID, his arms crossed over his broad chest, emphasizing the strain of his flannel over his biceps. When the kid tried to take a swing at him, he grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back before marching him out of the bar and kicking him to the curb.
Your friend had to remind you to breathe.
He hosts a trivia night at the bar on Tuesday nights, the perfect excuse to see the man weekly. You sit at the bar each time, scribbling your answers on the notepad as you sip on a vodka cranberry and sneak glances at the older man while he works.
One night, you were struggling to answer a question about where the Lord of the Rings trilogy was filmed when Joel leaned across the bar, bringing his lips close to your ear to say, “New Zealand.”
You’d gotten the point, thanks to him. And from that day forward, he’d linger near your corner of the bar, watching to see if you needed help with an answer. Eventually, you started showing up earlier and earlier for trivia night, just for the chance to talk to him.
You told him about your PhD program and the research you were conducting. You wanted to be a psychologist, but for now you’re just a perpetual student. You miss winter weather in Colorado, but appreciate not having to store a giant jacket anywhere in your small apartment. Your favorite season is fall, and your favorite holiday is Halloween.
He tells you about buying the bar a few years ago, after his divorce from Sarah’s mom and ensuing custody battle had been finalized, an investment he made with his brother Tommy. They’d fixed it up themselves and made it a popular local spot. His favorite movie is Indiana Jones and he prefers whiskey over any other drink.
It’s no surprise that along the way you’d fallen in love with the man.
Too bad he’d never feel the same.
————
Joel remembers the first night he saw you. Your rosy cheeks and tipsy smile as you leaned forward to say, “Vodka cranberry, please. With lime .”
“Lime, huh?” He remembers saying. You nodded your head vigorously.
“The lime is the best part,” you insisted. He chuckled.
“Not the vodka?”
“Gross, no.”
He tossed in three lime slices and you shimmied your shoulders with glee.
You come into the bar, alone, for trivia night on Tuesdays now. You’re a fountain of random facts, but every once in a while he’ll feed you an answer to help you out because he likes the smile that you give him in return.
He has no right to be looking at you the way that he finds himself doing every week. Eyes wandering to the way your jeans hug your ass or drifting to your cleavage when you rest your elbows against the bar.
But between the conversations and the trivia and the sweet smiles, he’d gone and fallen in love.
Which is why when you come to trivia night with a man who wraps an arm around your waist, Joel loses his goddamn mind and does the stupidest thing ever.
You get up to go to the bathroom and Joel leans across the bar to address the guy, keeping his eyes on the bathroom.
“I’ll give you $100 if you leave right now,” Joel says.
“What?”
“Hundred bucks if you walk out that door and don’t talk to that girl again,” he says again. He digs his wallet from his pants and pulls a bill out, setting it on the bar top.
Without further question, the man grabs the money and stuffs it in his pocket as he heads out the door. Joel feels a flash of guilt when you return from the bathroom and look around for your missing date.
“Said he had an emergency,” Joel lies. He’s surprised when you look relieved.
“He was kind of boring, anyways,” you shrug, dragging your notepad and pen closer to you. “He probably would have just dragged us down.”
Us, Joel thinks.
He could get used to that.
________
Your friend, Marie, had convinced you to try out Tinder. She was absolutely certain you were missing out on the love of your life by not swiping mindlessly through profiles that held no interest to you.
You weren’t about to confess your unrequited love for the local bartender to get her off your case, so that’s how you ended up on a date with Michael. He was a law student and liked kayaking and hiking.
You liked neither of those things, but he had curly brown hair and you had a type, so why not give it a shot?
You didn’t have it in you to be too upset when you returned from the bathroom only to find out from Joel that Michael had left. Joel slid you another vodka cranberry with lime and your night went as it always did.
When Marie asked you the next morning how the date went and you told her he bailed, she insisted on picking your next one. She chose Scott, a financial analyst at a local bank.
You’re starting to think Marie doesn’t know you very well.
Regardless, you show up at the bar for another trivia night date. Scott is tall and lean, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he wore a suit to a bar. When you comment on it, he pulls a face and says he came straight from work.
“Not all of us are lucky enough to not have real jobs,” he says. You blink at him, surprised by the hostility.
That hostility continues when Joel approaches the two of you at the bar, lips turned down in a scowl, and Scott decides to order for you.
“She’ll take a vodka water with lemon and I’ll have Bulleit, neat.”
Joel raises his eyebrows at Scott, his eyes flicking to you briefly, before he sets a plastic cup on the bar top. He holds Michael’s gaze as he pours a shot of vodka into your cup, before using the soda gun to dispense cranberry juice. You have to bite back your smile.
“Vodka cranberry with lime,” he says, sliding you your drink. “And your whiskey will be right out.”
“That’s not what I ordered,” Scott replies.
“Yeah, but it’s what she would’ve.”
Scott sputters, face going an alarming shade of red with his indignation.
“I’ll be right back,” you mutter, taking your drink with you as you head to the bathroom.
________
“I’m not paying for that drink,” the blonde asshole says, knocking his knuckles against the bar for emphasis. Joel huffs a laugh.
“I don’t give a shit, kid. I want you out of my bar,” he says, planting both hands on the wood.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Get the fuck out of my bar.”
“I’m on a date!”
“Not anymore.” Joel rounds the bar and gets up in the little weasel’s face. “Get. Out.”
The boy’s eyes go wide, like he realizes that maybe Joel isn’t playing around. He scrambles from his barstool, standing to his full height like he’s about to challenge Joel.
“You can’t kick me out, old man,” the blonde snaps.
Joel’s had enough. He fists a hand in the starched white shirt collar, driving him back towards the exit. The other patrons move out of the way, some whistling and cheering Joel on. He shoves the man out the door and looks at the doorman.
“He doesn’t come back inside,” he says. “And you? Don’t ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”
Joel returns to the bar as you’re walking up. For a moment, he worries that you may have seen him acting like a caveman getting rid of his competition, but you look around in confusion.
“Where’s Scott?” You ask.
“He forgot about somethin’ at work,” Joel says. Your brow furrows.
“Kinda weird that’s happened to me twice now,” you comment.
Joel just shrugs.
________
You don’t tell Joel about how you saw him throw Scott out of his bar that night.
You’d just left the bathroom when you saw Joel stomp out from behind the bar, his eyes dark and fixed on your date. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but based on the affronted way Scott was responding, it wasn’t anything good.
You crept closer to the scene, but stayed amongst the crowd. Joel marched Scott backwards with a fist tangled in his collar, shoving him out the door.
“And you? Don’t you ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”
Your mouth went dry at his words and your mind reeled at the implications. Was he doing this from a place of friendship? Or…could he maybe feel the same way you do?
Only one way to find out.
You call up Travis, a good friend from undergrad who still lived in town.
“Trav, I need your help,” you say when he answers the phone.
“Burying a body type of help or financial type of help?” He replies easily.
“Actually, more experimental.”
“I don’t swing that way.”
“No, listen to me, I have a hypothesis,” you insist, explaining the situation to him. How you’ve been on two dates at Joel’s bar but each time, the men have left without another word. And how after what you witnessed, you’re inclined to believe that it’s not a coincidence.
You ask Travis to come with you to the next trivia night. All he needs to do is pretend to be there on a date with you. A bit of hand holding, maybe an arm around the waist. Nothing more.
“But what if he tries to threaten my life?” Travis asks.
“Well…I mean…every experiment has risks,” you reply flippantly. He sputters indignantly down the line. “I’ll buy you your drinks and get you tater tots.”
He’s silent for a moment before responding, “Fine. Extra jalapeños and I’m not getting well liquor.”
“Thank you!”
________
You come into his bar with another man. His arm is draped over your shoulders as you approach the bar and Joel has to set the glass he’s drying down before it shatters in his hands.
“Joel! This is Travis,” you say, gesturing to your date. He forces a smile, reaching a hand across the bar to shake his hand.
“What can I get started for you?” Joel asks. The man, Travis, orders an old-fashioned with top shelf whiskey, while you request your regular.
“I’ll be right back,” you say as Joel is pouring the drinks. You weave through the crowd towards the bathrooms and Joel leans in to address Travis.
“I’ll pay you $100 to leave this date,” Joel says.
Travis smirks. “Make it $200.”
“Are you serious?”
“That depends, are you?”
Joel’s eyes flick towards the back of the bar and he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He pulls out four fifties, dropping them on the bar.
Travis pockets the money before adding, “You know, there’s cheaper ways to get the girl.”
“Get out,” Joel grunts. The younger man laughs his way to the door, and you appear at the bar a moment later.
“Where’d Travis go?” You ask.
“Oh, he—“
“Can I get an order of the loaded tots?” Travis asks, cutting Joel off from making up an excuse for his absence and sitting back down on the stool beside you with a shit eating grin. “She owes me.”
“Owes you?” Joel asks through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, she lost a bet. I told her I could get the number of that guy over there in less than three minutes and she doubted my charm.”
“Travis and I went to undergrad together,” you explain. “We just wanted to hang out and catch up.”
Shit.
________
Travis decides to leave after two plates of loaded tots and one too many drinks. You help him call an Uber, but you stay behind as the bar starts to clear out.
It’s just Joel behind the bar, wiping down the wood and setting bottles back to their rightful spots as you sip from a cup of water. The kitchen has closed down and the music has been shut off, leaving the two of you in loaded silence.
“So…,” you say, twirling your straw in your near empty cup. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”
Joel’s shoulders go tense before he releases a deep sigh, turning to face you. The bar separates you, and it feels like miles of distance when all you want to do is get your hands on him now that your hypothesis has been proven.
Joel Miller likes you. And he’s been sabotaging your dates because of it. Perhaps you should be more upset, but all you can feel is an effervescent giddiness bubbling in your veins.
While he struggles to find the words, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You reach across the bar, hooking your fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him forward. You lean over to meet him halfway, pressing your lips to his.
You pull back and look into his eyes. The coffee colored brown of his irises seems darker, his eyes half lidded as he looks at you.
“You wanna get out of here?” He asks.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
________
Joel’s got one hand on the wheel of the truck and the other resting on your thigh. He has to keep a hand on you because he’s worried that if he doesn’t anchor himself, he’ll wake up from this dream.
You kissed him. You reached across the bar and dragged his lips to yours in a way he’d only dreamed of doing a thousand times since you’d sauntered into his life.
He can’t help the small smile that tilts his lips up at the thought.
“What’s got you smiling over there?” You ask, your voice teasing. He glances at you.
“You do, darlin’,” he says. He relishes in the pink that blooms across your cheeks at the pet name.
Joel drives to his house, parking the truck in the driveway of his little bungalow. His bachelor pad, as Tommy calls it.
Maybe not for much longer.
He circles the truck to open the door for you, helping you down from the cab. He keeps his hand on your low back as he leads you up the porch steps and through the door.
You toe off your shoes in the entryway, letting them join the pair of sneakers Joel left by the door. You’re wearing a pair of socks with tiny cats printed on them, the sight so endearing to him he can’t hold back his laugh.
“What?” You ask.
“Nothin’, just…like the look of you here. In my house,” he says.
“Yeah?” You take a step closer to him, toe to toe as you look up at him through your lashes.
“Yeah,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging your body against his. The heat of you even through the layers of your clothes sends a shiver down his spine.
You press your hands to his chest, sliding them up and over his shoulders before linking them behind his neck.
“You gonna give me a real kiss?” You whisper back. Your lips are so tantalizingly close that they ghost across his as you speak.
He closes the distance, lips dancing with yours as he kisses you senseless. The feel of you against him, moving with him, sends sparks skittering across his skin. He’s unable to hold still, hands roaming from your back to your waist to your hips as your mouths part and your tongues tangle with increased desperation.
Joel slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, crouching slightly to lift you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your core slides against his growing hardness and he groans at the sensation as you let out the neediest whimper.
He wants to hear more.
He walks you both through the empty house until he reaches his bedroom, tossing you on top of sheets still rumpled from last night’s sleep. You scramble to sit up on your knees, moving to the edge of the bed and curling your fingers into the waist of his jeans.
“Can I suck your cock, Joel?” You ask, voice all breathy as you stare up at him with your big doe eyes. “Please?”
Joel’s mouth has gone bone dry. “Yeah? You want my cock in that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart?”
You nod your head, fingers working on the buckle of his belt. His hands work in tandem with yours to get his fly open, shoving the denim down his thighs until he can step out of them. His cock tents his boxers, a wet spot already apparent on the fabric and he watches as you reach a hand out to stroke him, a groan escaping him at the feel of your warm palm against him.
“Take your clothes off and get on your knees,” Joel commands. He lifts his own shirt over his head as you unbutton and remove your pants, shimmying the tight fabric down your legs. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed as he watches you lift your shirt up and off.
His eyes rove your body hungrily. Your perfect tits and gorgeous curves, the way you flush beneath his gaze.
“Come here, baby,” he says, crooking a finger. You come to stand between his legs and he reaches around your back, unhooking your bra with deft fingers.
“You’re rather skilled at that, Mr. Miller,” you tease.
“I’m old, not dead.” He slips the straps from your shoulders, tugging the last barrier between him and your tits away. “God, baby, these all for me?”
“Mhm,” you him as he wraps his hand around the weight of one breast, thumb teasing your pert nipple.
“Tell me somethin’,” Joel asks, “why’d you bring all those boys around when you knew you needed a man?”
You lick your lips. “Didn’t know if the only man I wanted would want me back.”
Your voice is small and vulnerable as you say it, and that just won’t do. “Don’t just want you, baby. Need you.”
Your face lights up in the brightest grin. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, baby. Need you so fuckin’ bad,” he tells you, digging his fingers into your hips. “S’why I had to play dirty.”
Your smile turns downright salacious. You drop to your knees, running your hands up his thighs. “Show me how much you need me, Joel.”
________
Joel shoves his boxers down, exposing his cock to your hungry gaze. It’s gorgeously thick, the head a dark red from his arousal, a pearl of precum sitting in the slit. You lean forward and dart your tongue out to gather it.
“Don’t tease, sweetheart,” Joel says through gritted teeth. You keep your eyes fixed to his as you take him in hand, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head before taking him further into your mouth.
His hand is instantly in your hair. Not pressing, but his fingers tangle in the strands and tug deliciously against your scalp. He moans as you take him as far back into your throat as you can manage.
“Fuck, your mouth is better than I ever dreamed,” he says, voice rough.
“You’ve thought about this?” You ask when you draw back for breath, hand pumping his length in place of your mouth.
“‘Course, baby. These pretty lips wrapped around me, beggin’ for me to make them all swollen and used,” he says, standing and bringing a thumb to your lips and swiping it across their spit slick surface. “Open up.”
He uses his thumb to press against your bottom lip, opening your mouth as he takes his cock in hand and feeds it slowly between your lips. The smooth, hot length of him dragging across your tongue makes you moan.
“You like that, baby?” He growls, pumping his hips in shallow thrusts. “Like me usin’ your mouth how I want?”
You try to nod, your movement restricted by the grip of his hand that’s returned to your hair. There’s spit trailing down your chin and tears gathering in the corners of your eyes from the effort of keeping your mouth open for his thick length. You know you must look like a mess but with Joel staring down at you with his lust drunk expression, you feel on top of the world.
“I gotta fuck you, baby, will you let me, huh? Let me feel that pretty little cunt strangle my cock?”
You hum around his length and he withdraws, tugging you up by your hair and pulling you into the dirtiest kiss, all tongue and teeth and blatant desire as he turns your bodies, shoving you down onto the bed.
Joel slips an arm beneath your low back, using it to pull you up the bed as he crawls on to join you. He positions himself between your legs, tearing the soaked fabric of your panties down in a frenzy.
He slides his fingers through your wetness before bringing them to his lips, sucking them into his mouth with a groan.
“Christ, I’m gonna feast on you for hours, baby, but I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says.
“Then fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg, lifting your hips so that his cock slips through your center. “Come on, wanna feel you.”
He lines himself up, pressing into you with a delicious stretch, the slight sting of it making you whine. He shushes you, not stopping until his hips press against the back of your thighs.
“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ my cock like you were made for it,” he says, leaning forward to kiss you, the shift in angle making him go impossibly deeper. “Tell me when I can move, sweetheart.”
You shift your hips restlessly beneath him. “Please move, Joel, wanna feel it.”
Joel pulls back before slamming forward, the force of it making you slide up the bed as all the air leaves your lungs in a whoosh. His grin is sharp as he does it again and again to the tune of your desperate cries.
“Joel!” You cry, clawing at his back with each thrust. “Fuck, yes, yes!”
He withdraws abruptly, the loss of him as you clench around nothing making you whine pathetically. With a bruising grip on your hips, he twists your body until you’re on your belly, ass in the air and chest pressed to the mattress.
Joel slides back inside your tight heat, a palm slapping across one cheek then the other as he resumes his powerful thrusts.
“Fuck, darlin’, you’re so goddamn tight,” he growls. A hand presses to the back of your neck for leverage, changing the angle yet again. “Can you cum for me? Can you soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, I bet you can.”
You nod, the movement restricted, but you can’t form words. All you know is the feeling of Joel pounding into your body like he owns it.
The hand on your hips moves to the front of your body, fingers finding and pinching your clit. You sob against the mattress, the sheets wet beneath you from tears and drool.
“Come on, baby, fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Won’t fill ya up until you do.”
That’s the visual that does it. The thought of Joel finishing with you, inside of you, dripping out of you too much for your lust addled brain. With a shout, the thin remnant of your control snaps and you pulse around him.
“Fuck yes, that’s it, sweetheart, good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, his hand leaving your neck as he sits up, his tempo fast and sloppy as he chases his release through yours. “You want me to cum in this tight little cunt, honey.”
“Yes, please,” you manage to slur, muffled by the sheets. With three more harsh thrusts, he does as promised, spilling inside of you with a shout.
He slows before withdrawing, your body collapsing against the mattress without him there to hold you up. He chuckles as he flops beside you, dragging you into the cradle of his body.
“You done playin’ games with those boys?” He asks, smiling smugly against your neck.
“Yeah, think I might be into older guys,” you tease. He pinches your hip, making you laugh.
“See if I ever help you during trivia again.”
________
Joel’s standing in front of you, arms crossed with a scowl on his face as you stare up at him with pleading eyes.
“Come on, baby, help me out,” you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes.
“Last call for an answer to our final question! What is the only song credited to all five original members of the band Fleetwood Mac?”
Joel sighs, biting back his smile. “The Chain,” he tells you. You scribble the answer, running your paper up to the emcee. When you return to the bar, you lean across the polished surface and tug him towards you, planting a kiss to his lips.
He drags you back for another kiss. And another.
“Anytime, darlin’.”
Joel Miller tag list: @huffle-punk punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow
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#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#no use of y/n#joel miller smut#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel tlou#joel x female reader#joel miller fluff#joel the last of us#ao3 author#read on ao3
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Summary: You're Gavi's best childhood friend and you go tot he club with him and some of his friends. He made it clear that you are just his friend, but when he sees the attention you start receiving from everyone..his mind changes ;)
Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader
Warnings: smutty ;))
"Ready, pecas?" Pablo was always using that nickname, since we were little niños, because he was always so intrigued by the freckles decorating the bridge of my nose to my cheeks. Anyways, he came to pick me up with his car and we were going out to a newly opened bar in town with a group of his friends.
"Mhm! Vale!" I got in and he certainly checked out my quite short black shorts and a crop top that showed my flat stomach. I always wondered weather he found me attractive but I gave up when I heard him say to his friends when they asked if I was his girl "Imposible! She is like mi hermanita tíos!" which always ruined my mood when I thought about it!
When we arrived, the loud group in front of the door greeted us and all of Pablo's friends (including the taken ones) complimented on my look tonight. I thought Pablo was too busy joking around with Pedri to notice, but little did I know, he heard every word that made him very much angry!
"Damn Gavi! Your amiga is quite a bombon!" Araujo whispered to him and Pablo looked towards you chatting with some girls at the bar shaking his head although secretly thinking the same thing.
Your ass looked so delicious in that tight shorts..and not to mention the braless crop top that was driving him absolutely crazy!
"Bombon? Tu eres loco tío! Ella es tan joven" Pablo said always acting 'tough' cause he was two years older that you..big deal! That didn't mean he could order you about which he always tried to do!
As hours passed, and you had more drinks with your girlfriends, music started to take over your body and you were dancing like there was no tomorrow.
"Es caliente!!" Rafa smirked whispering into Pablo's ear knowing that would annoy him especially when you were dancing with your ass glued to another guy who hand his arms around your waist.
"Joder!" Pablo groaned putting his drink down and walking towards you angrily. He grabbed your wrist pulling you away from the guy and he crowd all the way outside where was freezing btw.
"Ow! Que haces gilipollas!?" you were angry but still so cute when you tried to yell at him especially being so short and adorable regardless of your mood.
"You're drinking anything people give you! And you are grinding your ass against some fucking stranger!? What are you doing pecas!?" he was angry as well as he let go off your arm but still not letting you go back inside.
"Que es un problema!? You're not mi novio Gavi! I can drink what I want and I can dance with whoever I want!" you spat and now he was even angrier clenching his jaw repeatedly. He wishes he was your novio and could teach you a lesson right now..
"But I brought you here which means I am responsible to make sure you're safe pecas!" he said and to that you smirked feeling quite confident tonight (probably from the alcohol) as you moved closer to him rubbing up and down his strong biceps.
"Are you sure that's the problem here Pablito?" you said teasingly and he was fighting back an urge to throw you in the backset of his Maserati and show you just what his problem was at the moment. But then he reminded himself that you were his best friend, that he doesn't want to lose you and therefore couldn't mess up your life.
"Vamos, I'm taking you home.." he said but you were definitely not about to do that especially when you were having such a blast tonight. You pulled away from his grasp and he groaned in annoyance.
"If you don't want to honestly tell me what the problem is then I won't do what you say! Capullo!" you winked walked back inside while he groaned running his hand through his hair before getting inside himself re-joining his friends while you continued to dance on your own this time.
"Why don't you just admit you want her tío? Es obvio!" Pedri bugged him but when Pablo saw that you were kissing someone and walking outside with him the heat in his veins intensified from anger.
"Es demasiado tarde.." Pablo sighed walking out this time determined to take you home even if he was to carry you into the car himself. He was done with this party and he was especially done watching you with other people!
As he looked around for you, he found the same guy from the inside sitting on the hood of his car while you stood in between his legs kissing his lips.
"Gilipollas! Tienes tu culo en mi coche!" he said and the guy looked at him with big eyes of course recognizing him from the Camp Nou pitch while ungluing his hands from your waist.
"Pablo Gavi..I'm so sorry tío" he said walking away from you which made you angry as you looked at Pablo who watched as he left before finally looking back down at you.
"Stop scaring away everyone who comes near me!" you said and he walked closer until your thighs his his car and you sat on the hood looking up into his dark eyes once more. He was no longer your sweet and protective friend Pablo..no..he was angry..and lustful in this moment.
"Que haces?" you say when he slowly touched your thighs opening them up and standing in between them while tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"You said you wanted to know what my problem is..honestly?" he said moving even closer as his hands rested on my thighs and his nose was touching mine.
"S..si" your voice was shaking and your cheeks were bright red while looking into his dark eyes longingly.
"I don't mind you wearing something that makes your ass be the sole focus of the night..but I do mind that I can't grab it and make todos los gilipollas see that it's mine.." he started and you felt goosebumps appear on your skin while his cold fingers traced your thigh and his nose moved against yours.
"I don't mind your dirty dance but as long as it's against me.." he whispered into your ear licking it after wards and you couldn't help the moan that left your lips in response.
"And I don't mind that you want to make-out on top of my car..but I want you to do it only with me!" he whispered into your other ear licking it again before his large hand grabbed your neck and pulled you close kissing your lips feverishly which made you moan into his mouth as you kissed passionately.
"Pecas.." he whispered against your lips after pulling away and you smiled opening your eyes and snaking your arms around his neck while playing with the end of his hair.
"Take me home amor.." you smiled snaking your legs around his waist with a shy smile and he smirked kissing your lips again knowing that he finally got what he craved for such a long time...;))
I like this story :)
#pablo gavi#pablo gavi icons#pablo gavi x reader#pablo gavi x y/n#pablo gavi x you#fc barca#fc barcelona#fc barça#gavi#gavigif#gavira#pablo gavira#pablo martín páez gavira#pablogavixreadersmut#gavi x reader#gavi x you#gavi x vini#gavi x yn
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Fic about Scar after Secret Life? I noticed that he got the same task again after winning and it got me thinking. Apparently Martyn had the same idea but I swear I didn’t get it from him it was just me
I did get the idea of going insane from him but the rest is me
***
Scar normally detested routine, but now he was craving it and there was nothing to be done.
It had been five days. Five days since he’d pressed that succeed button, five days since the last ghost had left the game.
He’d tried to leave, just after pressing.
He couldn’t. It was as if there was some virtual barrier that was stopping him from disconnecting every time he tried.
Then, he’d tried dying.
Just as he’d thought of it, the fail button was no longer there.
He’d grabbed at the thin air where it used to be, then pounded his fist onto the hard stone beneath it and screamed until his hand bled and his throat was sore.
He jumped into the ravine. He stood in lava. He plunged underwater and didn’t hold his breath.
What had happened was that there was all the pain that came with dying but none of the final relief, of seeing that death screen and the pressure lift up. He’d looted some golden apples, devoured them just to stop the pain.
His hearts just wouldn’t go down.
Normally he couldn’t stop them from going, but now, just when what he wanted to do most was to die, the Secret Keeper wouldn’t let him. It was a cruel joke.
“I’ve already won!” He yelled at it. “I’ve already won, let me leave!”
He’d pressed the reroll for hard, but he just got the same “Win Secret Life.” book over and over again. The succeed button merely gave him more hearts and flashed “You have succeeded.” at him, as if taunting him.
Now, on the fifth day, he didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t eaten at all, and his hunger bar stayed empty, but his hearts wouldn’t go down.
He leaned against the side of the Keeper, his stomach hollow and his head aching.
The sun was particularly piercing today, but he stared at it stubbornly, not caring if it would make him go blind. It hung in the air, resolutely staying but not helping at all.
He wondered what it would be like if everyone else was here.
Surely, they would all love him and congratulate him on his win. He’d wake up with a smile on his face, pop around to the Mounders and have a chaotic breakfast, then maybe go off to practice archery at Grian’s base, probably have some joking banter with Scott. Then…
It hurt to think about it.
He’d already buried them all.
Jimmy and Mumbo had long been buried, and Lizzie’s final resting place was the void, of course, but he’d gathered up everyone else.
He’d cleared the leaves at the Heart and laid Skizz, Tango, and Bigb to rest. The Scotts and Tots were likewise given a simple grave at their base, and Etho and Cleo at theirs. Mum and Dad.
He’d killed them, laughing, all towards the goal of winning, and in the end he was left alone in an empty world filled with dead bodies. All his previous grudges seemed unimportant now.
He’d buried Grian at Sunflower Valley, near the mess of blocks that used to be Trader Scar’s.
It seemed selfish but there was no one around to judge, and he still recalled the whisper of his ghost that day.
She’s dead, Scar. You won.
It was just words. He hadn’t won.
Winners were supposed to be happy.
He’d found Mumbo’s grave by the patch of fresh grass by the man’s own mound, and put Bdubs and Joel next to him. He couldn’t bring himself to bury Pearl at first, but leaving her in the ravine seemed like letting the Keeper win, so he’d done it as well.
Letting the Keeper win. As if there was still a game to play.
It had felt weird at first, burying his friends. But after a while he didn’t feel any sorrow when burying them. They were all dead anyway.
He was going to be dead anyway, if not by the Keeper’s hand then by his own. He anticipated the day the Secret Keeper would get bored and just kill him off.
But there was nothing to do now.
And sitting by the Keeper, on the brink of death yet forbidden to tip over, Scar laughed.
He laughed and laughed, unsure if it was the heat of the sun, or the unrelenting silence of the Secret Keeper, or maybe the despair of his own mind that was making him do it.
Win Secret Life. Win Secret Life. Win Secret Life.
He hadn’t won. He never would, and he would never finish this last task, left to rot, alone, in the world that he had created for himself by killing and killing until there was no one left to kill but himself and he couldn’t even give himself that mercy—
It occurred to him that he might go insane. Or maybe he already was.
What did it matter? He was alone anyway.
#secret life#secret life smp#trafficblr#life series#traffic series#traffic life#traffic life series#life smp#life series smp#slsmp#goodtimeswithscar#gtws#traffic life smp#traffic smp
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Navy Nurse (Part 5)
Pairing: Rooster x Y/N Summary: You were a Navy Nurse, formally a navy pilot. You moved into being a nurse after you had done your time in the air and wanted to go into being a nurse. But, being presented with an opportunity to leave you home base to go to California changed your life in a few different aspects. Warnings: smut, female receiving, fluff,
It was the next day, you woke up to text around 5am. Still dark in you room and confused as to who the hell was texting you this early. You rolled over to grab you phone and unlocking it making you shut your eyes at the brightness of it. But you opened one eye to turn it all the way down. See a new text from Maverick.
‘0900 at the Hard Deck. Where something to work out in.’ Was all it read. All you cared about was the fact that you could sleep an extra hour. Locking your phone and setting it back down on your bed side table and falling fast asleep.
Your alarm going off 2 hours later at 7 am. You rolled over to turn it off. As much as you did not want to get up you had to. So you rolled to sit on the edge of the bed and standing up. You stretched your arms up and your legs out. You heard your doorbell ring out confused as to who it could be. You wore only a pair of boy shorts underwear, and an oversized Navy t-shirt. You went to your front door and peered out the peephole to see Phoenix.
“What are you doin there?” You asked opening the door confused.
“I was up early, saw Mavericks text so thought I’d come here to kill time. We can go there together.” She said walking passed and into your house. You shut the door locking it again.
“Well I just need to get dressed.” You told her and she followed you to your room.
“Do you know why we are going to the Hard Deck?” She asked as she plopped down on your bed.
“Nope. No clue just got a text from Maverick this morning.” You said going to your closet and grabbing out your clothes for the day and began changing.
“Maybe, we are just drinking all day for work?” Phoenix said now laying on her back.
“Psh, one can only dream. Do you forget who we work for?” You asked putting your Sports bra over your head.
“Your right. We are probably going to have to sit and listen to Maverick talk about something thats impossible.” She said giggling to her self. you finished getting ready with putting your socks and shoes on.
“Alright, let’s head out.” You said walking out of your room and Phoenix jumping up and catching up to you quickly. Walking out the front door and to your car and on your way to the Hard Deck you were. You and Phoenix jamming out to music the entire way and laughing. You pulled into the Hard Deck and only a few cars sat outside, one being that Beautiful Bronco that you love seeing. Getting out of you car along side phoenix and walked tot he front doors. Opening it and going in.
“Hey look who decided to show up!?” You heard Hangman say from across the room.
“Shut up Hangman!” Phoenix said and walked over to everyone. You saw Rooster stood over by them also. Seeing his face have no expression in it to when he saw you his eyes lite up like lights on a house on Christmas. Trying not to make anything obvious that you and Rooster had anything going between you two, you stopped next to him.
“So who knows what’s going on?” Hangman asked.
“I have no clue. Got a text from Maverick at 0500.” Rooster said speaking for the first time since you walked through the front doors.
“Well, thats cause ladies, and gentleman, today is not a normal training day.” Maverick said coming out of the kitchen doors and walking to the group. You all stood at attention and listened.
“Admiral Simpson, told me that I need to make a team. Right now, you do not look like a team. Yesterdays, squabble showed me that we really need to work on our team work. So today, play football. But, we play dog fight football.” He spoke explaining the reasoning for not being at base and here at a bar. You all looked around trying to figure out what Dogfight Football was.
“Offense and defense at the same time.” He further explained.
“At ease, and get ready to get out there.” He said and everyone fell at ease and began heading out to the beach.
“So you think you can take me?” Rooster asked running up next to your side.
“Hmmm, I think so.” You said smiling and looking over to him. Before you could get into the sand you took your shoes and socks off.
“I guess we’ll see Snake.” He said laughing mocking your callsign and pulled his shirt over his head. You now see him in the light and holy shit was his body beautiful.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” He said smiling towards you.
“Not if your mine forever.” You said smiling and pushing passed him. Getting to the huddle you took off your shirt, leaving you in your sports bra and shorts. Noticing Rooster looking you up and down, causing you to smile.
“Alright everyone ready?” Maverick came up to everyone. Everyone gave him a woot responding as a yes.
“Lets play.” He said and everyone began running around, at first we were all keeping score, but eventually it just became fun. Getting down, sand and mud all over your face and body to face Rooster.
“Think you can take me babygirl?” He said said smiling up at you through his eyelashes. Babygirl. Made you a bit weak in the knees but you didn’t loose your focus. You smiled and Hangman yelled “Hike” you juked Rooster getting around him and close to a touch down. You jumped up to to catch the ball and Hangman threw it to you and ran to score a touchdown. That didn’t stop Rooster from running at you and as he reached you he threw you over your shoulder. You laughed, and maybe even melted into his embrace. He set you down finally and took his hands away from your hips slowly.
“Told you I could take you.” You said booping him on his nose. You smiled and walked passed him. You and Maverick opted out of playing more as you were getting tired, and they needed to work as a team together. But, that earning you a boo as you threw the ball to them. You smiled and ran up towards the Hard Deck where you and Maverick had two beach chairs set up. Sitting down and leaning back to take in the vitamin D the sun gave you. Feeling the sun leave your skin you looked up seeing Admiral Simpson, in full Khaki and sunglasses on looking at the team playing.
“What is this?” He asked Maverick.
“Dog fight football, sir. Offense and Defense at the same time.” He said looking up at him.
“Who’s winning?” He asked confused at the game.
“I think they stopped keeping track. long time ago.” Maverick said with a smile. You looked over at them now looking like a team together. You looked at Rooster who had a permeant smile on his face.
“This training is over in 2 weeks, and you decide coming and playing games is better than training?” Simpson said looking down at Maverick.
“You said I needed to build a team. There’s, your team.” He said pointing at them. Now, Rooster throws the ball to Bob who hasn’t got a single point for them the whole game. Bob catching it and running in for a touchdown and instantly began celebrating. Rooster jumped up in joy throwing his hand in the air. He ran over to Bob and hoisted him on to his shoulder as everyone came around to celebrate with him. You smiled at how close they have finally became.
“So Mav, how do you feel today?” You asked looking at him trying to read his face.
“I’m happy with the progress. Tomorrow will be your last day with us, I’m sad to say. But, happy that you will be with us on the boat. You have become quite close with Rooster I see.” He said looking over at everyone again and you followed his eyes to Rooster. The ball got thrown to Hondo, now making everyone attack him.
“He’s a good guy. Amazing pilot. But please Mav, don’t say anything to anyone.” You begged him.
“I wont. I promise. Just be careful with him. He’s already had so much heart break in his life. He can’t afford another. But, I know you, and I know you wont hurt him. Also, be careful at base with PDA.” He said smiling over at you and focusing back on to all the men and women in the sand. They all seemed done with the game and very tired. Closely getting to sun set the sun was falling slowly, leaving a hue of beautiful orange, purple, red, and blue in the sky. You saw as all of them began walking up the beach to the two of you. Your eyes never leaving Roosters body you smiled as everyone got closer.
“Alright, thats it for the day. How about we go get a good drinking in before we resume training tomorrow?” Maverick said standing, Everyone running passed you guys and into the Hard Deck, except for Rooster. He sat in the sand beside you and just looked out at the ocean. As everyone shuffled passed you and went inside you and Rooster were left alone.
“Did you have fun?” You asked breaking the comfortable silence between you two.
“I did. I feel much closer to everyone. Including Maverick. Thank you for yelling at me. It really helped.” He said with a giggle and his little joke.
“Anytime. Once thought about being a drill Sargent.” You said laughing.
“So, I have a question.” He said scoring him sled to sit in front of you now but still in the sand and you still in the chair.
“Proceed.” You said to him with a smile.
“What are we?” He asked making you choke a bit. You sat looking at him for a few seconds before he put his naked arms folded over each other on your thighs and laid his chin on top of them still looking at you.
“Well, I’m your captain. Superior, right now. But, I do like you Bradley. I really really do. I don’t know if you feel the same. I don’t know if you even want to be with me only knowing me a short amount of time.” You said explaining your feelings to him.
“Don’t get me wrong your fucking hot. That body, that mustache that fac-.” Cutting you off quickly clashing his lips into yours getting you to shut up and stop babbling.
“GET IT ROOSTER!!!!!” You heard from above you and you broke the kiss to look up Rooster still had his caressed at your cheek. It was Hangman stood on the balcony.
“I want to be with you.” He whispered, pulling you back to look at him. You smiled clashing your lips together once again. A little more heated this time.
“Let me take you home.” He said with heavy breathes. You smiled at him.
“Phoenix!!!!” You yelled up hoping she was on the balcony. Luckily she was. She peaked her head over to look at you two.
“Ooooo, I like this view. Finally. Fuck!” She yelled down you rolled your eyes and threw your keys up to her.
“Take my car, don’t crash it bring it to work tomorrow.” She said catching them with a surprised look.
“Oooo your going to fuck? Aren’t you!!!?” She yelled as you got up grabbing your chair and your belongings
“Shut up Phoenix.” Rooster yelled to her. You smiled looking back and winking at her and she threw her hand up.
“Get it Roos!” She yelled. You walked to his Bronco, he still opted out of putting his shirt back on same as you. Throwing your stuff in the back of it and getting into the passenger seat. Before you could settle Rooster took ahold of your face again to look at him and clashed his lips into yours. As you chest heaved up and down at the thought of having him in your bed shortly the kiss got more heated.
“Roos please. Let’s go.” You said begging. He smiled, pulling away and put the car in drive and left. The tension between your legs was a lot. Trying to contain yourself and not tell him to park the car on the side of the road so you could ride him into the sunset was progressively getting harder and hard to do. But finally he pulled up to your house, quickly you grabbed your stuff and running to the door. Rooster close behind he attacked your neck from behind causing you to not be able to focus on getting your key to unlock your door. It finally got the strength to do so the door swung open. You turned to meet his lips as he pushed you into the house to close the door behind you.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” He manages to get out between kisses. He cupped your ass cheeks and lifted you up to wrap your legs around his torso.
“Well I hope it’s all you imagined.” You said pulling away and smiling at him. He carried you to your room and opened the door. Throwing you on your bed.
“Are you sure you want this now?” Rooster asked falling on top of you but catching himself with his arms on either side of your head.
“God dammit Rooster, just kiss me.” You said not wanting to wait any longer and he did as you told. His lips clashed into yours and his hand roamed up your naked sides and up to your sports bra caressing your chest. He lifted you to sit up so he could take your sports bra off over your head and as he did you turned him over to his back and straddled him. Running your hands up his torso, feeling ever line of his abs, and down to the V that ran towards what your aiming to get. He smiled pulling you down to kiss him once again.
“Do you have a condom?” He asked between heavy breathing.
“Birth control and I’ve been tested.” You said simply letting him know it was okay to not use a condom. Now he sat up and swiftly picked you up. He walked you over to the dresser that sat directly in front of you bed and set you on top of it. He peeled your shorts off along with your underwear. He got down on his knees his face now eye level with you sensitive clit. His breathe just breathing lightly over it gave you chills down your spin. Before you could comprehend anything going on around you, his lips were attached to your clit. You jolted up, but his large hands held you in place.
“Fuck, Roos.” You breathed out almost out of breathe. You could feel him smiling against you as he twirled circles with his tongue. You grabbed a handful of his hair making sure he doesn’t move, feeling the knots in your stomach twist and turned.
“Don’t stop. Please. Don’t stop.” You said begging for him to keep doing what he was doing.
“I’m cumming.” You yelled out seconds before speaking before hand and you released with you body convulsing. Coming down off your high Rooster came back up to your face and put his lips to yours. Tasting yourself on his lips and tongue, you got off of the dresser and pushed Rooster back to the bed. His legs hit the end of the bed, and his body falling back onto his back. You unbuttoned, and unzipped his jeans and pulled them off along with his boxers. His member flinging out of his pants. It was long, girthy, perfect for you. Climbing atop of him and straddling him again. He lined himself up with your entrance and you sunk down slowly.
“Fuuuuuck.” Rooster let out as his eyes rolled back. slowly lifting yourself up and down on him to get used to his length. As you began to get comfortable with it and the pain of it stretching you out became please you began to move faster.
“Fuck, you keep doing that, I’ll cum like a teenage thats having sex for the first time.” Rooster said making you giggle out, but quickly laughs turned into moans as he lifted you to stay centered above him he began pounding into you from underneath. You rested your hands on his hard chest to keep you from falling.
“Bradley. Fuck, Bradley. You’re so good.” You said out as you felt that familiar knot begin to twirl in your stomach again.
“Don’t stop.” You plainly said through your moans.
“You want me to stop?” He said starting to slow down and grinning knowing thats not what you want.
“Rooster!” You yelled at him and he resumed the pace that was needed. He reached between the two of you and softly rubbed your sensitive bud causing you to arch your back up at him and he instantly attaching his lips to your nipple. So close in his embrace now making your orgasm spike higher and making your body shake under him. As he felt you tighten around his cock and released inside of you not to long after. Panting and both trying to catch your breathe. He fell to your side from above and sprawled out.
“As good as you imagined?” Rooster asked turning to you with a smile.
“Better.” You said turning to him on your side and smiling back at him. You tucked yourself into his side, and laid your hand on his hard chest. Playing his his dog tags between your fingers enjoying each other in comfortable, naked silence before falling slowly asleep.
#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster xy/n#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster#imagine#imagines
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It’s 1989, Nora Maisel is five years old, and she breaks her arm after being shoved unceremoniously off of the monkey bars at recess.
“Who did it?” Joel snaps as he arrives at the hospital that afternoon, shedding his winter coat. “I’ll kill ‘em.”
“You’ll…kill a five-year-old girl?” Julia Maisel asks her father-in-law, utterly perplexed.
“You know what I mean,” Joel says, flapping his arms.
“No one knows what you mean,” Esther tells him as she steps up behind him. “You are, as usual, incomprehensible.” She kisses her father’s cheek before hugging her sister-in-law. “How’s Nora?”
“Shook up, but she’ll be okay,” Julia assures them. “She’s very excited about having people sign her hard cast.”
“Just don’t let Lenny draw dicks on it,” Joel quips.
Esther rolls her eyes. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you over all of that ugly bitterness.”
“Behave, or I’ll find straight jackets for both of you,” Ethan warns as he steps out into the waiting room. “I know they have ‘em here somewhere.”
“How is she?” Esther asks.
“She’s a trooper,” Ethan waves a hand. “She picked out the brightest pink cast they had, and she’s thrilled.”
Julia chuckles. “I’m gonna go back and sit with her.”
“Ma is back with her, so she’s not by herself,” Ethan reminds her.
“Midge is already here?” Joel asks, confused.
“She was my first call,” Ethan tells him.
“Why?”
Ethan flounders a little. “Cuz…cuz she’s Ma.”
“Dad here?” Esther asks.
“He took Noah to get something to eat in the cafeteria,” Julia smiles. “They’re on the hunt for tater tots.”
“Not exactly healthy,” Joel grumbles.
“The last time you had the twins, you fed them twizzlers for dinner,” Ethan reminds him.
“I’m here!” Kitty chirps as she dashes over with Ella in her arms. “Is Nora okay? What happened? I just got a message that said she was here.”
“Some little jerk pushed her off the monkey bars at school,” Esther explains. “She broke her arm.”
“But I’d like to reiterate that she’s okay,” Julia jumps. “Really. She’s a tough little cookie.”
“Of course she is, she’s a Maisel,” Joel points out.
“The point is, she’s gonna be fine,” Julia says calmly.
“Oh, good, I’m so glad,” Lily says from behind them, making everyone jump.
“Hey, Lilbit,” Ethan says. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course,” Lily grins. “I brought snacks.” She lifts up a shopping bag of pretzels and various other snack foods, which Julia takes and starts rummaging through, obviously hungry. “Lan called from LA. He says he’s sending Nora get-well-soon chocolate.”
“Lan called you?” Joel asks, perplexed.
“And Chaim called me,” Kitty says as she sets Ella down on a chair with a stuffed animal. “He’s completely stuck at the paper until tonight, but he’s sending some form of adorable plush toy to your place.”
“Aw, that’s sweet of him,” Julia grins as she munches on some chips.
“And Mei left a message on my pager,” Ethan says. “She sends lots of love, and she’s also gonna send soup, apparently.”
“God I love that woman,” Julia sighs.
Joel wrinkles his nose at the mention of his estranged second wife.
“Hey, the gang’s all here,” Lenny says as he carries Noah up to the group.
“Hi!” Noah chirps, waving a hand.
“Hey, buddy!” Ethan grins, lifting his son. “You find those tater tots?”
Noah nods enthusiastically. “Pop-Pop helped me put hot sauce on them!” With that, he blows a breath right at Ethan’s face and giggles as his father recoils a little.
Lenny looks a little guilty. “Sorry, kid. Your son inherited your mother’s love of spicy food.”
“It could be worse,” Ethan shrugs as he tries to get some non-toxic air. “He could have inherited her self-destructive nature, or her penchant for dirty jokes.”
“Eh, he still might,” Lenny shrugs as he kisses Kitty, Esther and Ella. “Hi, girls.”
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Hey, Dad.”
“Pop-Pop!”
“Lenny,” Joel grouses.
Lenny nods. “Joel.”
“One brave kid comin’ through!” Midge calls as she carries Nora over to the group, her arm in a hefty, electric pink cast.
“Hey, there’s my baby,” Julia beams, taking Nora from her mother-in-law. “How do you feel, Nora?”
“I’m tired, and I’m hungry,” she says, settling her head against her mother’s shoulder.
“We’re all a little hungry,” Julia commiserates. “Who’s up for Chinese food?”
Ella perks up then, looking up from her toy. “Dumplings?” she squeaks.
“You bet your cute little tush, dumplings,” Lenny chuckles, lifting her up and kissing her cheek noisily.
Kitty laughs softly. “We’re in.”
“Same,” Esther grins. “I finished up all my meetings for the day this morning.”
“Miss big-shot lawyer,” Midge beams, tugging her into a hug.
Lily looks at her watch and then seems to do some math in her head. “I can study more later.”
“You work too hard,” Ethan complains. “And you don’t come for dinner enough.”
“That’s what I keep telling her,” Lenny agrees.
“Excuse you, I’m studying for something very important,” Lily defends herself with a laugh. “I’d like to be Doctor Bruce before the next century starts.”
“I wanna be doctor, too!” Noah chimes in.
“Two doctors in the family, I’ll just kvel so hard I’ll die,” Midge jokes.
“I’m gonna call the paper and let Chaim know where we’re going to dinner,” Ethan says, handing Noah over to Esther. “Maybe he can sneak off early and meet us.”
“Fat chance, Mr. bigshot New York Times editor that he is,” Lenny jokes.
“Good Chinese or the place with the sewer water eggrolls?” Midge offers.
“I am not feeding Ella sewer water,” Kitty tells her.
Midge nods. “Good place it is.”
“Ella, will you sign my cast?” Nora asks, doing her best to lift her broken arm.
“Sure I will!” Ella chirps. “I’ll draw a big pretty heart.”
“Yay!”
“Is it weird to anyone else how much they like each other?” Joel asks.
“No, they’re cousins, why wouldn’t they like each other?” Julia asks.
“I dunno. Just…they’re very different,” Joel shrugs.
“I have seventeen cousins,” Julia reminds him. “And when you put us in a room together, you can’t drag away from each other.”
“Anyways,” Joel mutters. “I gotta get to the club, so I’ll miss dinner.”
“We’ll eat a few dumplings for you,” Esther promises.
“Bye, Zeyde!” Nora says.
“Bye, Nora, feel better, Sweetie.”
Everyone else says their goodbyes and watches Joel go, and once he’s out of earshot, Esther turns to the rest of the group.
“Anyone else a little weirded out that he was here?” she asks quietly.
“Big time,” Ethan agrees as he steps back over. “Chaim is meeting us at the restaurant.”
“Why was it weird?” Midge frowns. “Joel cares.”
“He hasn’t shown up to any family event or holiday in the last year,” Julia points out. “Ever since Mei went out to LA to be closer to Lan, he’s totally dropped off.”
“Well, maybe he’s trying,” Midge offers.
“Don’t defend him, Ma, he’s not worth it,” Ethan reminds her. “Who’s hungry?”
Julia’s hand shoots up first, followed by the kids and Lenny.
“Then let's get a move on. They’re already gonna be pissed that we’ve got ten people and no reservation.”
And they do.
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notbad-justsungthatway:
.
Dear indignantmarker,
Don’t worry, I promise your secret is safe with me.
On the other side, I’m reading this with my cat curled up in my lap because she refuses to let me get up. I had a long exhausting shift today, and it is nice to come back to a chance for some peace and quiet.
That’s all very interesting about Thoreau. Most of what I know about him is that he was supposed to have gone off tot he woods and lived by himself to write Walden, but it sounds like that might not be the whole story. I’m not sure I agree with the idea that we should all be separated. Who can be? For all the complexities and frustrations of society at large, a life entirely alone, where you are the only one responsible for every single one of your needs, sounds like it would be incredibly hard. In my experience, we rely on other people constantly, and we’re at our best when we help them. The loneliness of being someone who doesn’t share the common beliefs of the society we are in only proves how much we want to have other people.
Is it more of a lack of time thing or a lack of experience? If you did want to do some cooking, I have some simple recipes I could recommend, but I understand it doesn’t appeal to everyone or work with their schedules. I first started learning to cook precisely because my mother was terrible at it when i was growing up.
All the best, CranberryShortcake
Dear CranberryShortcake,
That sounds nice! My flatmate has a cat, too. I don’t think he likes me very much. Which it probably for the best since I am very allergic.
Very well said. I find merit in his writing but ultimately must agree with your points until the day that someone can successfully prove his philosophy and ideas on the subject to be the ideal method of living. But, anyway, if that’s sparked any interest in him as an author, I would still recommend reading his works. Even if it is only to put in your search bar, Top Thoreau Quotes.
As for my lack of cooking skills, it’s both I would suppose. I never learned and I don’t seem to have time. Also I don’t really go into my kitchen these days as it is and only have room for the microwave in my room. So unless those recipe only involve that as an instrument, I would be happy to have them! Otherwise they would be lost on me.
That sounds like you’ve been smart even from a young age! I was lucky to have a good cook for a mother so I could spend my days dwelling in the sun, throwing rocks at objects in a game of accuracy against my sister. She always won. I guess my time was wasted there and better spent in the kitchen, eh?
Have a wonderful day!
indignantmarker
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Game of Hangman
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader
PLEASE DO NOT STEAL!!! I WORKED VERY HARD ON THIS!!!!
This is my first writing ever… PLEASE be kind!😅
Reader is female.
No warnings it’s fluff.
Summary: Reader get creative in how she gives Hangman her number.
____________________________________________
Fightertown was a perfect combination of both exciting and comforting. Y/N had only been in town about 6 months and employed by Penny for 5.
She heard through the bar flies that a new crew was being formed at Top Gun. No one knew why, but it was on good authority that they would be ‘the best’. Y/N didn’t know much about Top Gun but she knew the cockiness it bred was well deserved. No one survived that program unless they were genuinely the best.
The night was busy as per usual when Y/N noticed a group pilots that Penny was intensely staring at.
Penny finally looked back and Y/N asked, “I take it those are ‘the best’?”
Penny chuckled and replied, “Guess so. But don’t let them hear you say that.”
They both laughed at that. Throat clearing caught there attention.
Y/N looked up to see the female pilot from the pool tables.
“Hi! What can I get you?”, Y/N asked with a smile.
She replied, “I need 6 beers and a bowl of peanuts if you have them please.”
“Sure thing!”, she said as she started on the beers. “What’s your name?”, Y/N asked genuinely curious, “or if you feel more comfortable, what’s your call sign?”
The woman looked taken back for a moment then smiled and said, “Names Natasha, call me Phoenix.”
“I’m Y/N,” she said, “and I don’t have a call sign so looks like I’m stuck with that.” She joked.
The two spoke for a minute and they grabbed some of the beers and the nuts then began to walk over to the others.
They set the beers on a small table next tot he pool table.
“Guys! This is Y/N. Y/N this is Bob, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and Bagman”, Y/N couldn’t help but here the distain in Phoenix’s voice at the last name.
“Hangman”, the man corrected.
Y/N finally got a good look at their faces. They all looked like normal pilots for the most part. Y/N didn’t know what to expect from ‘the best’ but the defiantly were Top Gun. They all oozed confidence. Some more than others.
“Where have you been hiding your friend Phoenix?”, Hangman spoke with a mischievous smirk, looking Y/N up and down.
“Right over at the bar, if you got your own drinks you’d know that.” Phoenix sassed. This caused Y/N to giggle and Hangman looked at her like most people look at an adorable kitten.
“To be fair I’ve only been here a few months.” Y/N added, “and of you guys are supposedly ‘the best’ that everyone’s been gossiping about then we must not have crossed paths.”
“It’s not ‘supposedly’, Sweetheart, we’re are the best, well some of us.” Hangman said fully confident. “Your more than welcome to spend sometime over here. Find out why I’m the best.” Y/N thought Phoenix would hurt herself from rolling her eyes so hard.
“Well best or not someone’s got to make sure the other pilots have drinks so I should head back to the bar,” Y/N looked at Phoenix apologetically for leaving, “it was nice meeting you all!” She added with a smile.
Hangman’s eyes were on her the entire time she walked away.
“Don’t do it Bagman!” Phoenix warned. “I’ve finally got a shot at a friend who isn’t an asshole pilot, don’t ruin that for me.”
Hangman looked her dead in the eyes and smirked, “Drink up, next round is on me.”
____________________________________________
About 20 minutes later the bar was packed. Everyone was singing along to Phoenix’s eccentric friend Rooster who took over the piano.
“Y/ N!” She heard over the music.
She looked over and saw Hangman with a smirk that made her blush in a way she both loved and hated.
“Yes Bagman?” She quipped. “I see you’re finally getting your own drink.”
Hangman’s face almost fell at the name, but he recovered quickly with her joke and he smiled, “Call me Jake.” He smiled. “Turns out the way to see pretty bartenders is to go up to the bar yourself.”
Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, “What can I get you?”
“From the bar? 3 more beers. Personally your number.” Jake smiled trying to pull out his best looks.
“3 beers coming up. The number? You have to earn.” Y/N smirked and Hangman raise his eyebrow. She was toying with him, and the sick part, he was loving every minute of it.
“Can I bring them over in a minute?” Y/N asked.
“Sure thing, Sweetheart, he winked then walked away.
Y/N thought for a minute. She hadn’t dated on forever or gotten laid in even longer. What’s the harm of flirting with Hangman.
Then she got the best idea ever.
2 minutes and one napkin later she walked Over to the group of pilots. She handed Payback and Coyote their beers then turned to Jake and handed him the beer followed by the napkin.
He smirked and looked victoriously at the others but it was short lived when he opened it up. Hangman shook his head laughing as Y/N proudly walked off.
Rooster grabbed the napkin and immediately doubled over in laughter.
It was a game of hangman.
There were 10 blanks and one was filled in with a 3 (presumably for the 3 beers Hangman ordered). Phoenix chuckled and looked at Hangman who had an amused look on his usually cocky and punchable face.
“Looks like you met your match in that one, Bagman!” Phoenix laughed.
____________________________________________
Jake kept the napkin with him all though training. Despite their issues, the team was actually rooting for Hangman to win over Y/N.
Every night Hangman would go to the Hard Deck either alone or with the team. To see Y/N. They would talk and flirt, but most importantly they would play. He would guess a number and it would either be filled in or a new part would be added to the growing stick figure. Y/N only allowed him 1 guess a night.
The night before the mission he had 9 out of 10 numbers filled in.
Y/N was sitting in her apartment trying not to think about the fact her friends were leaving the next day on what could only be described as a suicide mission.
While she was sulking, the phone rang.
Y/N answered, “Hello?”
“Y/N?.” She immediately recognized the voice.
“Jake?” Hangman drew in a sharp breath at hearing her say his name.
“I figured out your number.” He said proudly.
“I noticed,” Y/N giggled, “What did you do? Call around until you go the right one?”
“Yes.” Jake said seriously.
“Wait really?” Y/N speechless.
“Yes.” Jake repeated. “I wanted to talk to you so I figured out a way to do it. Did you know you have a very similar number to a pizza place about an hour away?”
Y/N laughed, “I did not, but I should go there sometime.”
“That could be our first date.” Jake suggested.
“If that means you come back then I’m all for it.” Y/N said half joking.
Jake looked down at the ground. He knew better than to promise to come back. But the thought of telling her that was unbearable.
“I’ll do my best to come back.” Jake replied.
“Well, good thing you are ‘the best’.” Y/N said.
Jake couldn’t see it but he knew she was smiling, and he was too.
____________________________________________
A few days later Y/N was cleaning the bar off to get ready for that night. She hadn’t heard from anyone about ‘the best’ team and she was trying hard not to think about it.
“Guess it’s true, only way to meet pretty girls is to go up to the bar yourself.” Jake said softly but still full of confidence.
Y/N slowly looked up and saw him. The rest of the team was already at the pool tables.
Y/N walked around the bar and up to Hangman, “Guess it’s true, you are the best.”
He pulled her in and kissed her. The whole team cheered behind them, “Its about time Bagman!”
Thank you for encouraging me❤️
@rosiahills22 @t-rexs @timbradfordsboot @blue-aconite @barbiegirlbaby @elevens-strangerthing @ahopelessromanticwritersworld
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Only One Bed 2/?
previous / or read on AO3
Heather had been making eyes at Billy all week, kept bringing up the fourth of July party at the quarry and trailing off with a hopeful inflection in her voice, but so far he’d been playing dumb—or coy?
He wasn’t against hooking up with her, especially since, given her track record, it wouldn’t be anything more than that. And Eddie would be manning the bar, likely wouldn’t be free till midnight, so… yeah, he was leaning toward going, but it was fun letting her work for it.
“C’mon, Billy,” she said, making one last pitch as they headed to the parking lot after their opening shift on Thursday. “Everyone else is going. Stacy and Matt and Jackie… even Steve is going, and he needs us, Billy—this’ll be his first party post-breakup—”
“Break-up?” he repeated, stopping dead in his tracks a split second before the Straight Monitor in his head barked at him to keep moving.
“You didn’t hear?” She widened her eyes, the requisite sympathy undercut by titillation. “Nancy dumped him last week. Didn’t you wonder why he’s been so glum?”
“No,” Billy lied.
She giggled. “Then again, he’s always grouchy around you.”
Billy’s willingness to hook up with her dropped by about 30%.
“Yeah, well—feeling’s mutual,” he muttered.
She shook her head. “Don’t you think it’s time to put all the high school drama behind us?” she asked, as though she hadn’t been glorying in gossip mere moments ago. “Come to the party and—bury the hatchet or whatever!”
“Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes, then clarified, when she squealed and hugged him sideways, hopping in place, “I’ll go, I mean—not that I’ll… he’s still a dick.”
“Of course,” she said, in the tone of someone humoring a child. “But you’ll come?”
“Yeah.” He sighed, gently shrugged her off his arm to dig out his keys. “Want me to pick you up?”
“I’m all set for getting there,” she said, then sidled up to him as he reached for the door, key in hand, and murmured in his ear. “But I’d be up for a ride home?”
“Guess we’ll see where the night takes us,” he replied, voice low, and smirked when she couldn’t quite repress a shiver.
~~~
Eddie would’ve razzed him big time for how damn long he took primping in front of the mirror the next evening, but lucky for Billy, Eddie was downstairs pouring beer for assorted locals and bikers and local bikers.
He was in the jeans that Eddie referred to as an ass magnet—meaning both that they were for getting ass and ensuring all eyes were glued to his ass—and a white short-sleeved button-down, mostly unbuttoned, tucked in at the waist. Brown belt, brown boots with a slight heel to induce a certain swagger in his step. Nothing earth-shattering—his usual getup—but the white looked nice against his tan.
It was his hair that had been giving him grief, stubbornly refusing to cohere into curls instead of unsightly frizz, until, in a fit of frustration, he’d tied it up in a messy… bun… thing. And then, angling his chin this way and that in the mirror, struck by the sweeping curve of his neck, his jaw—sort of… elegant but… vulnerable?—he’d pawed through the vanity drawer, fished out the earring—the one with the metal spike hanging from a row of beads—and threaded it through his lobe.
Had watched it swing as he shifted his head, riveted awhile.
“Holy shit,” Eddie hollered, when Billy swung by on his way out. His gaze raked him head to toe, nothing short of delighted. “You should wear a warning, boy!”
And Billy internally paused, tripped up yet again by the vast difference between here and Cherry Lane.
“You like?” he purred, leaning cross-armed on the bar. The place was busy, but no one was currently vying for service. Eddie wiped his hands on a dishrag and mirrored him.
“Babe, if it wouldn’t mess up your pretty outfit, I’d be taking fifteen and taking you with me.”
“Smooth,” Billy pronounced, awarding credit where credit was due.
“That was, right?” Eddie hunched, peered around like phantoms lurked nearby. “I don’t know how, but when I’m working the taps, I’m a total Don Juan.”
Billy hummed, speculative. “Is that why bartenders are so sexy?”
“It’s that tap magic. Bar magic.”
“And definitely not the drunkenness.”
Eddie’s whole face lit with divine inspiration, and Billy knew a pun was imminent. “Beauty,” he intoned. “Is in the eye of the beer-holder.”
Billy thunked his head to the wood and groaned.
“How sexy am I now?” Eddie demanded.
“Significantly less,” he insisted, muffled, hiding a mile-wide smile, and heard Eddie scoff. Billy straightened, about to shove off toward the exit, when Eddie leaned forward, extending a hand, and Billy stilled.
Fingertips were warm at his sternum. Billy ducked his chin, watched as Eddie gently flipped his pendant so that Mary looked out. Their eyes locked, and Eddie stroked the back of his fingers across the skin below the necklace, conjured goosebumps easy as breathing. He withdrew, cut his gaze to a jowly patron approaching the bar.
“Have fun, man,” Eddie said, grin soft, and Billy nodded, resisted rubbing where Ed had touched, pressing it in.
~~~
The booze was flowing, bonfire high, by the time Billy rolled up to the chaos of cars at Sattler’s Quarry. Wisely parking at a distance in case he wanted a quick escape, he hoofed it down the dirt road toward the dancing shadows and silhouettes. Springsteen was growl-howling about his country of birth, and not in a complimentary way—but Billy guessed most in attendance hadn’t listened to the lyrics all that closely.
“There you are!” cried Heather, waving a beer from her perch atop one of the mismatched picnic tables carted in by enterprising delinquents past. “Finally!”
He dug a beer out of the cooler at her feet, cracked the tab, and knew by about his second pull that he wouldn’t be fucking Heather that night—she’d clearly been laying in the groundwork with Matt in Billy’s absence, and that was fine by him.
“Any close calls?” he asked the group at large, referring to the cliff, and half-listened to the impassioned recounting of so-and-so almost plummeting to his death.
Half-listened because the other half was straining toward the neighboring cluster of bodies, where Harrington was loud and swaying. Billy had clocked the guy’s whereabouts the second he arrived and hated himself for it. Refused to look his way, even as his ear followed that voice weaving through the air.
As the night wore on, he circulated among the shifting, raucous groups, catching up with old buddies from the basketball team, flirting with old flings who hadn’t taken his roaming attention too personally. Along toward eleven, someone set off fireworks—the puffy, sparky kind you could buy off road-side stands, nothing too awe-inspiring. Billy had kept a weather eye out from a distance, anticipating bone-headed injuries, but fortunately didn’t need to bring his lifeguard training to bear.
Hadn’t lost track of Harrington the whole time, which is how they never crossed paths, buffered by the repelling forcefield of Billy’s hyperawareness.
That was what people hadn’t realized, but Billy knew with certainty: that he and Harrington were magnets—no tight jeans necessary, Ed, because the magnets were in them. Were them. They were. And unless Billy kept his magnet flipped at all times, his negative pole aimed at Harrington’s, he’d go flying. Crash right into him and never want to part.
Or, inevitably: crash and keep crashing until he’d broken himself to pieces, because Billy was a realist, and Harrington was—Harrington.
So he knew it was a bad idea to go investigate when he heard the commotion by Carver’s big shiny Jeep Cherokee—Harrington’s last registered location. Knew he shouldn’t, that whatever conflict was unfolding, Harrington would be fine. But—his feet were already moving, heedless of the alarm blaring Danger, Will Robinson.
“Jason—STOP,” Chrissy cried, her pint-size form hidden by the huddle of figures all standing loose and yet tense—like the halting shift of winds before a storm. “You’re both drunk and stupid—just quit it!”
Carver did not quit it, based on his reply; the guy being likewise a pip-squeak, Billy couldn’t see him in the crowd, either. “What, I’m s’posed to take what he said lying down?”
“Yeah,” answered Harrington, obviously wasted off his face. “Or take it bending over—up to you.”
Knowing fighting words when he heard them, Billy launched himself through the inner ring of bodies in time to see Carver land a punch. Chrissy darted in front of her slavering boyfriend, arms out to stymie further blows, but Carver was too far gone to notice and clobbered her on the backswing. Chrissy went down like a bag of bricks, knelt whimpering on the ground.
“Get him out of here!” Billy shouted, grabbing Harrington by the scruff of his douchey polo—more to keep him upright than anything, since he’d made no move to defend himself. Carver’s cronies—Chance and Andy—hauled him away, and Billy reached a toward Chrissy.
“Here,” he said. “Can you stand?”
Chrissy let him lever her to her feet again as she wiped at tear-streaked cheeks with her wrist.
“Chrissy,” slurred Harrington. His glassy doe eyes were round and contrite. “’M so sorry, Chrissy—didn’t mean to—”
“Shut the fuck up, Harrington,” Billy snapped, pulling them both toward the bonfire, where waited a herd of coolers, and hopefully some ice. Harrington stumbled and then righted himself, head ducked like a naughty puppy, Billy’s fist unrelenting in his collar.
He sat Chrissy on a closed cooler and, in a moment of inspiration, kicked Harrington’s feet out from under him. The oof as he collapsed onto his ass was damn satisfying. Crouching, Billy dug up a nice icy chunk and held it out to Chrissy.
“Wrap this in your bandana and hold it where he clipped you.”
“Thanks,” she said, sniffling, and did as she was told, lifting the improvised cold-pack to her cheekbone.
“And you,” he said, yanking his other patient upright. Harrington groaned, palm pressed to his left eye. “You gonna hurl?”
“…No,” Harrington grumbled, after a quick, assessing pause.
“Then here,” Billy announced, shoving a clump of ice under his nose. “And you can freeze your eyeball solid for all I care, but if you’ve got any braincells left, I’d wrap it in your shirt or something.”
Several mincing silhouettes came rushing up to his triage station.
“Oh, my god—Chrissy!” said one—he thought her name was Judy. Maybe Trudy. “We heard what happened! Are you okay?”
“Jason just ralphed in some bushes—so gross,” cried another—Jen. Or Jess?
“He’s gonna feel so bad when he realizes what—”
“I think I want to go home,” Chrissy said, her hushed words somehow cutting through the noise.
There was an awkward pause while the assembled girls waited for someone else to volunteer to leave the party early. Such friends.
Billy closed the cooler lid.
“I’ll drive you,” he said, low. After all, Eddie would never forgive him if he let someone three sheets to the wind sail his precious Chrissy anywhere. “You, too,” he added, sharp, poking Harrington’s shoulder.
“Fine.”
“Fine,” Billy parroted, and corralled him upward ungently. Chrissy stood, aimed a quavering smile his way, and followed him to the car.
~~~
Somehow, they heaved Harrington into the cramped backseat of the Camaro. Chrissy sat prim in passenger and secured her seatbelt, because of course she did. In deference to her finer sensibilities, he stuck one of Max’s pop mixes in the tape deck and turned the volume low.
Peeling onto the dirt road, he snuck a glance at Harrington slumped against the sliver of window.
“You blow chunks in my car, Harrington, and I will kill you.”
“Fuck off.” Mumbled and mutinous.
“Nice,” Billy replied, faux-enthused, and Chrissy giggled quietly, her elbow propped on the door, still holding the icepack to her face. He glanced over just as another tear oozed down her cheek, and she swiped at it with a huff.
“Don’t know why I can’t stop—crying,” she said, abashed. “Doesn’t hurt that bad.”
“It’s just ‘cause he caught ya near the eye,” Billy explained. “It’s gonna smart awhile.”
She smiled, tremulous and grateful. “You know all this from—your job? Eddie said—” She stopped, flushing, as though unsure whether her frequent chats with one Edward Munson were safe to acknowledge out loud.
“Yep,” Billy confirmed, skating past her awkwardness. “Certified life-saver.”
“You’re… good at it,” she offered.
“What even happened?” he asked, flicking his gaze at Harrington in the rearview.
She sighed, annoyed. “It was mostly Jason being a—big jerk,” she proclaimed, puffing out her chest like she’d just used some strong language there and was damn proud of it. Billy bit his lip, stifling an amused grin. “He kept bringing up college when he knows that—” Not at all subtly, she threw a look at the drunk in the back and continued in a whisper. “When he knows that not everyone is—going and might not wanna talk about it.”
Billy raised his brows, seeing where this was going. “So Harrington said something dickish right back, and then…?”
Chrissy nodded. “Jason was really—needling him, though. About Nancy, too. You know how he gets.”
Billy did. Which begged the question:
“Why are you with him, again?” he asked. “No offense. You just seem like…” They coasted to a stop at a red light, and he looked her up and down. Chrissy stared back at him, curious to hear what she seemed. “The opposite of a big jerk.”
Her lips quirked, shyly pleased. She was just—so fucking cute. And sweet. And kind. No wonder Ed adored her. Billy swallowed hard, mentally bid farewell to his and Eddie’s—thing.
“Not for nothing, but…” He blinked away a sudden burn, stared at the red light. It turned green, and they were moving. “I know a certain guy who’s also the opposite of a jerk. Who really likes you.”
He didn’t look at her—didn’t want her to feel too… put on the spot, or whatever.
“Just—putting it out there,” he said. “As someone who’s figuring out that who I was in high school isn’t actually… who I am.”
When she spoke, her voice was wobbly. “I’m leaving. End of August.”
“I know.” He chewed on that, then shrugged. “And you’ll have to figure out who you are out there, too.” Let out a cynical snort, wry smile. “Like I did when they dragged me here.”
Chrissy was quiet the rest of the way to Harrington’s, but it wasn’t a cold quiet—more contemplative. He pulled up to the curb outside the McMansion that had hosted many a rager over the years and climbed out to lever his seat forward.
Harrington was still slumped sideways, looking worse for wear, but cobbled together enough coordination so that Billy wasn’t dragging dead weight up the walkway.
The place was locked, naturally.
“Harrington,” he said, propping him against the door. “Where are your keys?”
When all that produced was a breathy laugh, Billy made the fatal error of glaring at him—and their eyes met. Harrington’s were half closed, his head tilted back so the moon licked the line of his throat. There was a glint in his eyes—a sharpness that Billy hadn’t expected, that stole his air.
“Back pocket,” Harrington said, and then—made no move to get them.
Billy wasn’t built to resist so blatant an invitation, however ill-advised. Slowly, he slid the hand gripping Harrington’s side down, down, around. Over the speedbump of his belt, until he brushed the lip of a pocket. He hadn’t blinked, lost in the slivers of dark iris—wasn’t breathing, either, though his heart was pounding like a drum.
It was like he said—they were magnets. Billy stepped close, slipped his fingers in. Cupped the curve of his ass, cinched them flush, and there it was—Harrington’s dick hard as a post, right there, right where Billy was throbbing, separated by layers of denim and cotton that did little to mute the heat.
“Knew it,” said Harrington, one corner of his mouth lifted in a mocking smirk. His lips parted again, and the shape was mean.
Billy jerked the keys free, fumbled with the deadbolt—got it right on the first try, somehow—and turned the knob. The door swung inward, and Harrington was dumped onto his pampered derrière for the second time that evening.
“You know fuck all,” Billy said. “Drink water before you crawl to bed, asshole.”
Chrissy was watching him, jaw agape, as he stomped back to the car—was still goggling at him when they pulled onto the main road.
“You live off of Mulberry, right?” he asked, faking calm.
“Did you—what just—?”
“Harrington’s one of those big jerks we talked about.” It came out tight, words squished past a clogged windpipe. “And I’ve been trying to swear off those, you know? Cold turkey. Zero tolerance. Just say no.”
“Are you… okay?” asked the girl who was gonna take his one non-jerk away from him.
“Mm-hmm.” Blinked away more burn. Breathed in, easy-easy, out easy-easy.
He was being dumb. Eddie wasn’t gonna—go anywhere, just because he had a girlfriend. He’d still be Eddie. Goofy, open-hearted Eddie. And maybe Chrissy didn’t even want to date him, maybe they were being presumptuous, maybe—
Oh, who was he kidding. If Chrissy saw even half of what Billy saw in Eddie, of course she’d want to date him—how could she not?
Because Eddie was just—he was a good person. Like, at his core. And he deserved a good person. Someone who made him happy. Like Chrissy.
By the time they drove past the laundromat, he’d talked himself around to looking on the bright side of things. Eddie was his friend. Would still be his friend. And so he drove, Chrissy indicating through murmurs and pointed fingers where to turn, until he parked in the driveway of a stately colonial.
They sat in silence. Chrissy unbuckled her seat belt and hesitated only a moment before she touched Billy’s arm. Her fingers were soft and warm.
“You sure you’re okay?” The way she asked it—like she really wanted to know the answer, and cared, threatened to undo all that hard work to regain his composure. He gulped the painful lump as it bloomed again. “You seem upset.”
Billy huffed a laugh, shook his head. “It’s nothing, just…” He closed his eyes, like that would help, and when she ran her hand down his forearm, soothing, the words came pouring out. “I think I just forgot. How nice it is when someone’s… nice to you? When someone… makes you feel good. And how it’s kinda key. To have that.”
Chrissy squeezed his arm, and he opened his eyes to find she had been infected by the waterworks.
“I think I’d forgotten, too,” she whispered.
Billy sucked his lips between his teeth and raised his brows, a silent who woulda thunk it?
She let out a giggle, faint and stuttery, tugged on his wrist, and before he knew it, she’d swindled him into a hug.
And look at that. It was nice. It made him feel good. So he mustered the will to speak once more. Seal his fate. Nail in the coffin. Other melodramatic metaphors.
“Come see him play on Tuesday?"
She withdrew enough to scan his face, and nodded.
~~~
He waited till the front door closed behind her, then backed out of the driveway, wove his way through the circuitous neighborhood.
Pulled into the parking lot of the laundromat.
Then crossed his arms over the steering wheel and had a nice, good cry.
next
#setting the stage#to roll around in some found family polyamory#what would steve be like sans supernatural adventures??#still a big jerk#he's got some work to do#this billy is more settled in himself#which has been fun to play with#mungrove#hellcheer#harringrove#eventual...#harringrovesoningham#only one bed
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Captured
Wanda x Natasha x Reader
This is part of the Loving a little series Reader is little, light angst, happy ending
Summary: Wanda and Natasha are training. What happens when you’re left alone???
Notes: Sorry it’s been so long guys I hope you enjoy this one :) Let me know what you think of it!
You are all alone in a lonely bed with your lonely self. You were lonely because Wanda and Natasha are training. They got up at 6 waking you up and they’ve been training for 30 minutes now. 30 minutes of sleep that you’ve lost. Sure you tried to go back to bed, but you were having trouble without them.
Wanda and Natasha were training with each other. They had woken up early so they could have the training room all for themselves. They heard something in the hallway, assuming it was just some of the other avengers they kept training.
You hear the door open to you room, your eyes are closed and you don’t open them, assuming its Nat and Wands you say
“Mmm come back to bed.”
“I don’t think that will be happening anytime soon,” Says a strange voice. Your eyes fly open, but it’s too late, you scream and the stranger injects something into your arm.
“Miss Y/N is being hurt in her room by a Hydra agent,” Friday says over head. Suddenly red lights are being flashed everywhere, a loud beeping noise is being broadcasted all over the compound, and Friday is locking down the compound. It’s too late though.
“Where is she Friday?!” Wanda and Nat say panicked.
“They are already outside.” Friday says. Wanda and Natasha run outside to see you being carried by the Hydra agent. The stuff she injected into you had made your mind fuzzy, and you watch as red blurs your vision.
“Mama!” You say as loud as you can. Wanda flies up, but she can’t shoot down the plane that you went into without the chance of hurting you. She flies as fast as she can but she can’t keep up, and suddenly it disappears blending in with the clouds and she can’t tell where it is. She falls to the ground slowly landing on her knees crying. Natasha catches up with her in a vehicle.
“Baby?”
“I-I couldn't he-lp her. I heard her sc-scream f-for me.” Wanda says crying. Natasha picks her up and puts her in the car.
“I know baby, I watched you. You did the right thing, you couldn’t shoot down the plane. It’s gonna be okay we will find her,” Natasha coos as she gets up and drives back to the compound. The lights and beeping had stopped and everyone was up and ready for a fight.
“What happened, are you hurt?” Steve says as he sees Wanda crying.
“T-they took her, they t-took Y/N '' Wanda says, breaking down again.
“Who?” Tony asks.
“Hydra,” Natasha says holding Wanda and rubbing her back.
“Last time when Y/N first got her powers Hydra found out she was little, and that she has powers,” Natasha says.
“We won’t stop until we get her back,” Bucky says, putting a hand on Wanda’s shoulder.
When you wake up you are in a cold dark cement cell and you’re still little.
“Hello little one,” You hear a male voice say coming from the other side of the bars.
“Ware my Mama?” You ask.
“You won’t be seeing your Mama for a while. I heard you have special powers is that right?”
“I fink so,” You say back. The man comes where you can see him, he’s old, has grey hair and a lot of wrinkles on his face.
“You wook old,” You say with a giggle. Clearly not knowing what kind of situation you are in. The old man unlocks your cell and grabs your arm.
“Listen here you little tot, I don’t know where you think you are, but this is not a place where laughter is to be heard. Maybe I should teach you a lesson.” He drags you out of the cell and brings you to a better lit room. He’s a very fast walker so he’s kind of dragging you across the floor by your arm. Your bottom lip starts to wobble and tears flood your eyesight. He stops dragging you and picks you up and sets you on a stool. You feel him grab your wrist and attach it to a handcuff on the top of the ceiling. He does the same to your other wrist.
After he gets your wrists hooked to the ceiling he kicks the chair out from under your feet. You scream in pain as you hang from the ceiling, the cuffs digging into your wrists. He watches as tears stream down your face while you whimper.
“Oh we are going to have some fun,” He says with a chuckle.
All the avengers are on a quint jet to the last and final Hydra base location that they know of. They’ve gone every other base that was within 300 miles of the compound. They landed in a spot of openings in the trees far enough from the Hydra base that they couldn’t be seen.
“What if she’s not here?” Wanda says with grief written all over her face.
“Hey,” Natasha says cupping Wanda’s face, making her look over at her.
“We are gonna find her, we aren’t gonna stop til we do,” Natasha says, rubbing her thumb on Wanda’s cheek. Wanda places her hand over Natasha’s.
“Promise?” She asks.
“Promise,” Natasha says back. Everyone gets out of the jet and starts towards the base. When they see the base in sight they hear something.
“Mama!!” Wanda and Nat instantly recognize your voice. Everyone takes off towards the base. There’s four guards blocking the entrance, Steve uses his shield to take out two of them. Iron Man uses his energy beam to knock out the one firing at Steve. Clint takes out the last one with his bow.
You hear ruckus outside and the old man hears it too. He runs off somewhere. When the door opens you expect it to be him again, but it’s not.
“Mama?” You say with tears in your eyes. Wanda catches sight of you and her heart breaks. You’re naked and there’s angry red cuts on your body and purple bruises everywhere.
“Yes baby girl, it’s me you’re okay now, Mama’s here,” She says as she uncuffs you and holds you to her. She holds you for a minute while the tears in her eyes drop down onto her face.
When she pulls away she wipes the tears away from your face and hers. She takes off her long red jacket and puts it over you. She picks you up, careful not to hurt you. You suck on your thumb and hold onto her tightly not wanting to ever leave her arms. You walk out to where everybody is standing waiting for you, you stop Nat and she quickly makes her way over to you.
“Mommy,” You say sadly.
“Hi baby girl, are you okay?” Natasha asks, you shake your head.
“He hurt me Mommy,” You say, you can see the anger boil up in her.
“Baby he will never hurt you again, I promise. I will never let you get hurt again.” Natasha says to you.
“Can we go?” You ask a little bigger, just wanting to get out of there.
“Not so fast,” You hear someone say. Wanda whips around to see an old man standing with more than 20 Hydra agents.
“I think you have something that belongs to me,” He says with a sneer.
“Baby go with Clint to the jet okay,” She says as she sets you down. You shake your head.
“It’s okay I wanna help you fight,” You say now big. She sighs but lets you.
The Hydra agents come at you. You set yourself aflame and shoot fireballs from your hands at them. Steve and Tony work together to take out the agents on the left and Clint and Bucky take the ones on the right. You see Natasha fighting an agent twice her size. You see Wanda helping her by using her powers to fling him to the side of the building. You watch as your family takes down the bad guys around you.
You see the old man start to walk away and you chase after him. You shoot a fireball at him and he dodges it.
“Is that the best you can do?” He mocks with his arms in the air. Wanda comes up to you.
“I wanna try something,” You say to her.
“Okay”
“I want you and I to combine our powers to make one.” You say to her. Wanda starts with a red ball of energy in her hands. You place both your hands in her energy and act like you’re about to shoot a fireball but instead just keep it in your hands.
“You ready?” You ask Wanda, she nods her head. You both aim your powers at the old man.
“Three” You say.
“Two” Wanda says.
“One” You say together. You shoot your powers at the old man. It tangles and dances with each other beautifully. It knocks the old man out and the fire burns his body.
“Yesss!” You say jumping in the air. You hold your hand up for Wanda to highfive and she does with a laugh. You walk back hand in hand together to see that everyone has taken out all the agents. You grab Tasha’s hand.
“Can we go home now?” You say.
“Of course baby,” Natasha says. You and your family walk back to the jet. When you get home you, Wanda, and Nat go straight to your room. You take off the jacket that Wanda had given you. You hear Natasha gasp.
“Oh baby,” She says as you can see the tears well up in her eyes. You walk up to her and wipe the tears that fall on her face away.
“It’s okay, I’m okay now that I’m here with you,” You say and give her a kiss. She smiles but stands back so she can examine you. Most of the cuts Wanda had seen were small and healed now, but the purple bruises that mark your body are not.
“I’m sorry,” She says to you.
“What are you sorry for?” You ask.
“For not finding you sooner, for letting them do this to you. It’s all my fault, I was the one who suggested that Wanda and I train early if we didn’t do that then none of this would’ve happened.”
“Baby, this was not your fault, or Wanda’s fault,” You say as Wanda comes out of the bathroom.
“I’m fine now, I promise, what happened was nobody's fault and I don’t blame either of you.” You say as you kiss each of them.
“Okay,” Natasha says, dropping the subject. You yawn and it cracks your jaw and your eyes water.
“Looks like someone needs some sleep,” Wanda says as she gets into bed. You crawl in beside her and Natasha gets on the other side of you. You throw the sage love blanket over Wanda and Natasha making sure that it covered them equally. You had to lean over Wanda to unfold the blankets corner.
“What are you doing baby,” Wanda asks.
“Mm want to make sure you are nice and warm.” You say after you deem that everyone is covered by the blanket you lay down. You snuggle yourself into Wanda’s arms and lay your head on her shoulder. You sigh as Natasha holds you from behind.
“Love you guys, goodnight.”
“Love you too,” Natasha says.
“Goodnight,” Wanda says. That night you swear they hold you tighter.
#little reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x natasha x reader#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x natasha#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff#natasha x you#mommy natasha#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#mommy wanda#reader#loving a little
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Highlights from the Game Informer interview:
After Gat out of Hell, the team at Volition thought it’d be best to give series a fresh start, with a new tone somewhere between SR2 and SRTT
"Once you add everything and the kitchen sink to the game, it's difficult to then plan for future games after that because if you start with the climax, where do you go from there? A lot of fans have been wanting us to go back to... a more grounded game."
The idea behind making a game of the Saints' origin came from fans requests to see how the Saints were originally formed. "With this, it gave us the opportunity to do that origin story, but not doing something that was set in the '80s or something like that to try and tell the origin of the Third Street Saints [from the previous games]. Now we can tell the origin story of these Saints."
"We wanted to make really well-rounded character because if they're one-note, they're not going to stand the test of time. We looked at the past characters, and what aspects about them really made them stand out, and what roles they filled."
"At no point did we want to just make a cookie cutter of, 'We need a Johnny Gat character so let's just reskin him as somebody else.' We wanted all of these characters to be able to stand on their own."
As the story begins, you control a low-level member of a militaristic faction known as Marshall in Santo Ileso, a city inspired by American Southwest.
Life is hard, and rent is expensive, so you put aside your gangs' differences and decide to split an apartment with fellow grunts from your rival factions.
The rival roommates clash heads occasionally, but they quickly establish a house code where they have to leave their work lives at the door when they enter the apartment. Paying rent was worth more than anything else.
They need each other to survive; after all, low-level members don't pull in the big bucks. They start doing small crime together like robbing stores to make the ends meet. Their personalities complete each other.
The first mission, "Making Rent" follows the friend group as they rob a loan office called Payday. Eli sets the whole plan, with a planned karaoke night afterwards. They walk up to the single guard, who is on the phone, point a gun to his face and the Boss says him to "walk away before the phrase dead end job gets literal.”
The whole mission focuses on car combat as you evade the cops, and finally go to a meeting spot at a junkyard, which is unfortunately owned by Panteros Neenah works for, and ask for their cut. It all breaks into combat you gotta fight out of causing the karaoke night to get cancelled
They see how well they work together and decide to form their own criminal empire and have the riches they dreamed off. Eli suggests they need a proper office space, to which Neenah suggest an abandoned church in the Mercado district.
The church is in the sorry state, but improves as the story progresses. They notice the fleur-de-lis symbols representing Catholic saints, and the sign becomes the crew's logo, and they adopt the name "The Saints", as your character officially becomes "The Boss"
Church is customizable, and you unlock individual items to decorate it with as you complete objectives and side activities
Huge emphasis is put on car combat too, in the trailer they got healthbars above them, and you’ll be able to get on the roof of the cars and shoot at the enemies, as well as a “brand new drift mechanics”
2nd mission features Kevin getting kidnapped by Idols for crossing them, and has Boss rescue them after they wrongfully assume he hooked up with someone instead (they use gender neutral terms too, and boss thinks a random guy answering his phone is the hookup... bi icon...)
You go to a bar his phone pinged from just to check, and find out he was captured. You shake a guy down and he tells you they tied him up tot he City’s landmark and plan to blow it up as a message to everyone who crosses them.
You go there, disarm 4 bombs (journalist hints its because of your marshall training kicking in), and then use your wingsuit to fly to a mansion where there’s an ongoing Idols party, and kill them all for messing with your friends (sounds a lot like Party Time mission from SRTT)
There are also “side missions”, called “Side Hustles” which are half the mission the main story ones are and are similar to activities in previous game, but not exactly (one sounds like trafficking 2.0, other sounds like “race” from AOM)
True highlight are “Criminal Ventures”, which are businesses you can build around the city to serve as fronts for your illegal operations, all of the giving you new side missions and even upgrades. You can build a total of 15 businesses.
The demo journalist played only had a Bright Future scam, which is a nuclear waste plant Saints own and dumb nuclear chemicals for he private corporations that pay them to do it, and a taco business that serves as a drug smuggling front
The journalist picked the taco business, which had Neenah introduce her friend Chuy who knows the distribution business inside and out, and according to Neenah, makes a killer michelada. (seems like every business will have a person running the operation for you)
All ventures have several missions in a chain before you complete them, taco business one has you stealing other food trucks and bringing them back to be converted into your own business. Bright Future one had you go to remote locations and pick up trucks with nuclear waste you gotta deliver to your waste plant (but you gotta drive carefully, if you’re too reckless the containers will blow up, earning you less money)
100% each of them gives you a new wacky reward. There’s a military surplus which can unlock you new weapons, and even a hoverboard for completing all instances of it.
#saints row#saints row reboot#sr#also there's a link to the article in my discord server (link in bio)#didn't post it here cause piracy
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first let it be said that i am a giant advocate for polycules. everyone in the nxx should be holding hands.
with that out of the way. HELP I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT VYN/LUKE. it is now crucial for my mental health to pick up this dynamic put it in my mouth like a dog toy and bite with the ferocity necessary to break the little noisemaker. i came for luke but vyn came for ME and now i will never be free.
i don't just need them to hold hands. i need them to play mind games with each other your honor. i need both of them to be hyperaware of what nonsense is going on, analyze it and hide it behind knowing smiles. i need them to then discuss said findings and come at it from two different angles, i need to see the battle of academics and firsthand experience firsthand. i need them to have deep academic discussions about their medical fields. i need vyn to call luke out and have luke bite back with unexpected ferocity and accuracy. i want them to get into such weird niche conversations the other members can no longer follow. i want them to try and figure out what is UP with the other parties secrecy. i want vyn to say some peak horse girl shit and have lukes only point of reference to relate to the man be a mark from 2 years ago that went south. he had to tail the farrier and he now knows way too much about horse anatomy. i need luke to drink instant coffee in front of the man who got a 20 year old pu'erh cake from yunnan for the evening who is currently looking on in barely concealed horrified fascination.
tl;dr: bark bark bark
-💚
heyyo, greenheart! and also this anon who sent this ask MONTHS AGO but finally my vibes are Aligned To Talk About Vyn/Luke
GREENHEART R U PSYCHIC? AND/OR FOLLOW ME ALSO ON MY PRIV TWT? cuz just yesterday on my priv twt i briefly went mildly insane about vyn/luke and YEAH EXACTLY THEIR DYNAMIC IS SO INTERESTING TO ME
at first glance, vyn and luke seem like characters who are LEAGUES APART. but in my prev analysis, "the nxx boys and bad things", i realized a commonality when i made the diagram in there
vyn and luke are both on the active end of the spectrum, in terms of their behavior and tendencies towards their respective "bad thing" but i wont into that again cuz i already explain what i mean in the analysis itself
what i do wanna delve into is how this active-ness makes vyn and luke's dynamic so interesting. like, vyn likes being in control and uses his expertise of it with no holds barred. luke has a very clear "i'll do it myself" mindset in so many situations. in moments that matter for one reason or another, they dont idle, they act.
it's almost as if theyre both on the "offensive", so to speak
to make this clearer, i'll bring up the only thing ive written thus far that focuses on vyn and luke's dynamic (not ship but still i feel strongly about this): chapter 5 of "filler episodes of the lost gold"
as context for u, greenheart, this fic is all little inbetween scenes of the plot heavy event Mystery Of The Lost Gold that happened back in september. i very VERYYYYY MUCH RECCOMMEND u watch recordings of this event because up to this day, it's my fave tot event of all time
but yeah, in this chapter, vyn and luke hang out and it's vyn pov and i wanted to put vyn at a disadvantage but i know hes also such a perceptive and analytical person. and ive always had this feeling that of all the boys, vyn would be most cautious about luke. afterall, luke is new on the team. vyn hasnt known him as long as marius or artem. additionally, luke comes from a background of espionage. all this makes vyn wary about luke, makes vyn want to "figure luke out"
but heres the thing about luke: very often we fixate on his tank/combat abilities that we forget hes an investigator
luke, adept at solving puzzles, can easily perceive vyn just as vyn perceives him. i would even go as far to say that luke, sometimes, has the upper hand. cuz i think vyn approaches the unknown with this mindset of "what are the weakpoints?" so that he can leverage himself to a place of control
luke does that too but also hes an engineer and inventor. hes not looking just at weakpoints. to metaphorize, he looks at things in terms of taking it apart and seeing what each piece means.
all that is why that chapter ended up like that.
and all that to say the like, vyn and luke's dynamic (be it romantic ship or platonic interactions) is so so sOOOO FASCINATING TO ME BECAUSE THEYRE BOTH ACTIVE, theyre both PERCEPTIVE, but due to personality and background, that active perception is different enough to keep the other on their toes
vyn would call luke out on all his unhealthy and over excessive self destruction. luke would call vyn out acting as if the whole world will regard him only with cruelty. vyn and luke r deffo two characters that, once they come head to head, would push each other to confront things the other probably wouldve wished to leave alone.
dumb overthinking meta aside, their vibes are just so HILARIOUSLY DIFFERENT AND IT IS DELIGHTFUL TO ME
vyn: luke, what are you drinking?
luke: oh this? homemade energy drink! i call it "Raise The Roof!" haha
vyn: and what is it made of?
luke: uh. monster energy, red bull, and kool aid?
vyn, at a loss: no
alternately
luke: aw man, i passed out on my bed a few nights ago after a mission and got bloodstains all over my sheets and they wont wash out >:/
vyn: oh?
the next day, a delivery comes to luke's doorstep and it's SINFULLY HIGH THREADCOUNT SILKY SOFT SHEETS FROM SOME EUROPEAN COUNTRY
#greenheart!anon#asks#luke pearce#vyn richter#i was goin insane over vynluke on twt yesterday cuz of spicy vynluke arts i saw hAHKKJDBFKJDSF
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For Old Time’s Sake: a disaster twins story
Rating: GA Characters: Donnie, Leo, and Splinter. Tags: Wholesome brotherly fluff, brotherly bickering, napping, drooling, (NOT a shipping fic) Word Count: Less than 1k Summary: Leo remembers a time where Donnie used to let him use his shell as a pillow. They’re older now, but Leo sees the perfect opportunity to bring back old customs. A/N: In the stupor of my second vaccine, I wrote this on my phone at 4 in the morning. I remembered this post I made a while back and I decided to write a little somethin’-somethin’ about it. It also reminded me of when I used to lay against my brother when we were younger and we’d play Pokémon on our Gameboys lol. I think it’s just a sibling-thing; to use each other as pillows or somethin’, idk. -- (Also, please, this is not a shipping fic, so don’t treat it as one, thank you). I probably won’t upload this to Ao3, so you can read it here, under the readmore:
Leo walked into the television room, carrying a stack of comics for some 'light-reading.' There, he found Donnie lying on his stomach in the middle of the floor. The light from his tablet screen bathed his bored features in a soft, blue glow.
The Slider smiled, glad to see Donnie not holed up in his lab for once. He couldn’t help but reminisce of simpler times, when they weren't full-time heroes with their own schedules.
Leo whistled, allowing his presence to be known to his twin as he came up beside him. Then, he plopped down right next to Donnie and propped himself up against his brother's battle-shell.
Donnie grunted at the contact, then shot Leo a look, "Do you mind?"
"No, I'm good, thanks for asking," Leo grinned. He flipped through his stack of comics, humming to himself as he selected the issue off the top.
"Then why are you—," Donnie glared, "— alright, Leo, what did you break?"
"Nothing! Nothing's broken," Leo defended. "What, can I not hang out with my favorite bro~?"
Donnie eyed Leo, only able the detect one lie in the Slider's claim: everyone knew Leo's favorite brother was himself.
"Y'know," Leo continued, "I'd be a little comfier if you took off—"
"No."
"But I didn't even say anything!"
"And you don't need to," Donnie replied curtly. "You know the rules, Nardo: I only remove my battle-shells when I'm going to bed."
"Aw, c'monnn!" Leo nudged Donnie in the ribs. "You're not doing any battling! Relax! Get comfortable!"
"I am comfortable," Donnie huffed, "or I was until you decided to squash me."
Leo whined, his eyes glossy like a kicked-puppy. Donnie knew his brother's determination all too well; Leo wasn't going to stop pestering him unless Donnie left or he got what he wanted.
Donnie groaned, "Why do you want to lounge on me so badly?" He asked, miffed yet curious. "There's a recliner right there that's built for optimal back support."
"It has nothing to do with back-support, smarty-pants," Leo said. His voice grew softer," I just... miss hanging out with you like when we were little, that's all."
Donnie knew precisely what his twin was talking about. When they were Tots — and before Donnie took to wearing protective shells around the lair — Leo used to lean against his back. He liked how soft and leathery Donnie's shell was. Sometimes, Leo would simply rest his head and take a nap while Donnie read to himself.
"Just this once, Dee!" Leo's request brought Donnie out of his memories, "For old time's sake? Please?"
Donnie sighed. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He pushed himself onto his elbows and moved to sit upon his knees. Leo gave him space, watching Donnie fiddle with the release mechanism hidden within the shoulder straps of his battle-shell. He detach the bulky purple piece of equipment and set it aside.
"There. Happy?" Donnie laid back down on his front. He felt weird with his shell exposed in such a public space, even if it was only the living room.
“Very~” Leo draped himself over Donnie's shell, carefully positioning himself, so he wasn't bearing too much weight on his twin's back. He reached for one of his comics and began to read.
Donnie rolled his eyes, leaning against his fist as he continued scrolling his newsfeed.
It had been years since Donnie let anyone, let alone Leo, come into contact with his shell, save for the random medical occasion.
Although Donnie would never admit to it, he did miss the days where he let Leo use him as a cushion. But as he grew older, so did Donnie's disliking for togetherness. He became somewhat reclusive, preferring to allow the mechanical arms from his battle-shells to fulfill his displays of brotherly affections.
"You're so tense," Leo noted. "I’m not hurting you, am I?"
"No, it's just... been a while," Donnie explained. "And you're bigger and heavier than when we were kids."
"Y'want me to get off? I can get off..."
"No, it's fine," Donnie shook his head. "Don't worry about it."
But Leo did worry about it. He altered his position, now leaning on his side as if his twin were a bar at a restaurant.
"Better?" Leo asked as he settled back into his comic.
"... yeah," Donnie nodded. "Thanks."
—x—
"Boys?" Splinter called out as he came into the television room. "It's almost time for dinner! I have been calling you for the past—" Splinter stopped in his tracks. It was a sight he hadn't seen in a long time, nor was he expecting to see it at all!
Leo and Donnie were fast asleep, snoring softly with the occasional twitch. There were comic books strewn about Leo, who lay partially across his brother's back.
Splinter tiptoed over towards them. He noted Donnie using his arms to cradle his head, breathing deep and even, much like Leo. The pair must’ve lulled each other to sleep somehow...
"Oh, my sons," Splinter doted, stroking their heads. "What am I to do with you?"
Splinter covered them with a blanket draped over the back of the recliner. He decided it would be better to let them wake up on their own accord than embarrass them.
As Splinter began to leave the television room, he looked back over his shoulder. For a second, it was almost as if he saw two tiny turtle tots nestled peacefully together...
—x—
"Ugh, you drooled on me," Donnie complained. "Now I remember why I stopped letting you lay against my shell!"
Ten minutes after Splinter went to serve dinner, Leo and Donnie woke up, stirred by the heavenly aroma of beef hot-pot wafting in from the kitchen.
"Oh please, you drool on yourself all the time," Leo stretched, rolling the stiffness out of his neck.
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"Well, at least it's my drool!"
"Oh yeah? Well, you know what—," Leo paused, "— Hey, wait a second, where'd this blanket come from?"
#rottmnt#rottmnt leo#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt disaster twins#wholesome content#fluff#(not a shipping fic!)#rottmnt fic#rottmnt splinter#disaster twins
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Just a Little PDA
Mat Barzal
A/N: this fic was written with @softboybarzal she deserves just as much credit and she also made the header!🥰 and @bestestbenn helped me a bit with the big kiss😌 we hope you guys love it as much as we do, please give us feedback!💖
Warnings: slight relationship insecurities nothing big
Mat Barzal was one of the hottest players on the Islanders and when you met you never expected it to end up where you were now. A year and a half into a serious relationship with the Isles star and you truly couldn’t be more happy. Mat saw you for who you were immediately and fell for you within the first month of dating. You accepted him for who he was in more than just a “hot shot hockey player�� kinda way. You understood him and learned who he was outside of hockey.
You stood in the tunnels chatting with the other wags, waiting for the guys to come out of the locker rooms to congratulate them. When you finally see Mat making his way over to you, you feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach and the giddy feeling taking over your body.
“Baby, you won! I’m so proud of you.” and he could tell you truly were proud just by the gleam in your eyes and the adoration written all over your face. You wrapped your arms around Mat’s neck, allowing for him to pick you up by your waist when you hugged. He spun you around once before placing you back on your feet, leaning down to kiss you. “You ready?”
“Hell yes. Time to celebrate with my guys and my girl.” Mat said proudly, interlocking your hands, giving yours a small kiss as you walked down the hall.
Just like every other team in the league, going out to a popular club or bar was a tradition whenever a game was won, especially a home game. So here you are standing in a crowded bar admiring your boyfriend boasting about the game his team won. You felt like the most proud girlfriend in the bar that night, everyone around you cheering and doing shots going all out to celebrate. Mat had his arm wrapped around your waist as he stood at the bar talking with Tito when a few girls made their way over. You’d seen them hanging around before after games so you weren’t surprised when they leaned in front of you to give Mat a side hug and a kiss on the cheek. Mat involuntarily let go of your waist to reciprocate the hug wanting to be polite to the girls gawking at Mat and Tito. You stood idly by trying your best to interact in the conversation the boys were pulled into by the tall, blonde, beautiful girls.
“No, like you guys were so great tonight!” One of the girls spoke, grabbing onto your boyfriend's shoulder. You rolled your eyes, slowly backing away from the small group not wanting anyone to notice. you figured they were better off in their own world without you, for now, mat deserved the praises even if they were coming from beautiful bombshell groupies. He looked so happy and with how you were feeling, you decided to get some air. You made your way outside, instantly wrapping your arms around your body to shield from the winter New York weather and took a deep breath in and out trying not to work yourself up. The thoughts never escape your mind about how Mat might be better off without you and with one of the girls talking him up inside the bar. It wasn’t fair how they pushed you off him and wormed in between you guys. You didn’t want it to bother you, but of course, it did. You chewed on your bottom lip looking up at the sky, the darkness filled with the city lights. That same darkness trying to consume your thoughts.
It didn’t take long for Mat to notice you were gone and immediately sensing a panicking feeling forming in his chest at your absence. He felt like a dick for not even seeing you leave the group, he moved away from the surrounding girls and Tito making his way around the bar to look for you. Feeling his heart pounding in his chest when he didn’t see you with the other wags.
“Where’s Y/N? Have you seen her?” Mat asked the groups of wags, eyes wide, concern filling his features.
“I think she went outside. She looked upset, I was gonna check on her-” one of the wives spoke up, pointing towards the exit. Mat thanked her and started towards the door when he was pulled back by one of the girls.
“Mat! Where are you going? Don’t leave us!” the three blondes giggled surrounding Mat, hands touching his back and biceps.
“My girlfriend needs me. Take a hint and find someone else to grope.” Mat says through gritted teeth, the anger now finally showing through. He shrugged the girls off before beelining out the door and spotting her, his only girl, leaning against the side of the building.
“Baby, there you are!” Mat breathed out, touching his hands to his chest signifying his relief upon seeing her face. His nerves shown by him running his fingers through his hair.
“What's wrong? What are you doing out here?” you asked, not wanting to get into why you disappeared from the group. However, your boyfriend wasn’t stupid and he could see right through you. He knew you better than anyone else ever had.
“You came out here alone? You okay, did someone bother you?” Mat ignored your questions, grabbing your hands and looking all over you to make sure you were still in perfect condition and no harm had been done. Younod your head yes, but Mat can sense when somethings not right. He brings his hands up to your face, cupping your cheeks delicately, his hands warming you up instantly. Your hands following in suit, placing them right above his, clinging onto his wrists, keeping his hands on your face. He’s looking deep into your eyes, his hazel ones silently asking you what’s wrong and how he could help you in these moments. You can feel yourself sinking into the trance he’s pulling you into and you don’t notice your eyes starting to well with tears. Mat wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug and kissing your forehead and temple.
“Those girls in there...I-”
“Hey listen to me, you know nobody compares to you right?” Mat whispered into your ear and you chuckle shaking your head, now feeling a few tears slip through. “It’s true. I only got my eyes on you, you’re it for me. Now and forever.”
“I love you,” you say looking up at Mat, a shy smile on your face when he kisses your nose and wipes away your stray tears with his thumbs.
“C’mon, you wanna go back inside?” you nod when he asks, and grab his hand letting him lead you back inside the club to a vip table where the rest of the team and wags are sitting. He pulls you into his lap, rubbing up and down your arms before resting them wrapped around your waist. He’s whispering sweet nothings into your ear and leaving kisses on your neck and shoulders between every word. Mat can feel the girls from before staring at the two of you and when he looks over to confirm it was true, he smirks before turning your cheek to look at him. His hand on your hip tightened, he let out a hum as he leaned closer to you, his nose brushing against yours. You hardly had a second to react before he closed the gap, meeting you in a kiss that he rarely gave you in public. One of his hands on your waist and the other cupping your cheek bringing you closer to him, your lips enveloping eachother’s. Your hands tangling themselves in his hair, massaging his scalp lightly and pulling on the ends of his hair just enough for him to moan into your mouth. He lightly bit your bottom lip, the tactic working like it always did and making you open your mouth. Just as he was about to keep going you pulled away much to his protest, with a smile covering your features trying to regain your breath.
“What was that for?” you laugh, poking his slightly pink cheeks. You ran your fingers through his hair, loving the feeling and giggling when Mat let out a small grunt as you twisted your fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I just love you. And I want everyone to know.” Mat says confidently nodding his head at the girls and leaning back in his chair. The two of you watching the blondes storm out with stank looks plastered on their faces as you pull your boyfriend back in for another kiss.
“You’re the one I’m taking to bed tonight.” Mat says against your lips, squeezing your hips moving his hands down giving your butt a soft squeeze too. “And every night.”
—————————————————————————————————
taglist: @sortagaysortahigh @sweeterthansammy @butgilinsky @kiedhara @bestestbenn @taiter-tots @jjmaybanksbaby @jamiedrysdales @ana-maa @iamtheblondestblonde @elitebarzal @softboybarzal @himbos-on-ice @dreamypeaches @mycaptaintazer @dunnerbarzal @tysjostys @sidscrosbyy @calgarycanuck @jakevirtanenn @makarsy @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @lovenhlboys
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#mat barzal#mat barzal imagine#mathew barzal#mathew barzal imagine#new york islanders#new york isles#nhl writing
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I am still very new to this website and I don’t know how link a post but this fic is based on a post by @sandersgrey
(If someone reading this knows how to link a post please either explain it to me or link it in the comments because that post is *amazing*)
“Hmmm,” said Tessa, depositing Mina into Kit’s waiting arms and examining her buzzing phone critically. She shot a quizzical look in his direction.
Jem looked up from his novel. “What is ‘hmmm’, my love?”
Kit mimed vomiting but stopped dead in his tracks when she replied, “it’s Astrid’s mother. You remember her from parent teacher night, don’t you, my darling?” Kit swears they were being extra insufferable just to mess with him but he didn’t have the time to be annoyed when Astrid’s. Mom. Was. Calling. Tessa.
To understand why Kit was panicking as much as he was, you must know that Astrid’s mom was incredibly chill. She never got mad. The worst punishment she’d ever given her daughter was taking away her iPod for a week so she couldn’t listen to Mitski.
Was she calling about last night when Astrid, Mari and Kit threw eggs at the Shadowhunter’s that were giving Mari’s pack a hard time for no reason? No, that couldn’t be it. She’d given them the eggs.
Could the call be about the day before yesterday when Kit and Astrid got distracted doing homework and ended up snapping the coffee table clean in half while battling gladiator style with pool noodles? No, that wasn’t it. She’d just handed Astrid a twenty and told them to go to Kevin’s parents' shop and get a new one. Was she pissed because they ended up spending the money on ice cream instead? No, they ended up finding a table for free in the rubbing bin outside a fancy hotel.
Kit clutched his sister to his chest and prepared for the worst.
“Seo-yoon! What can I do for- Oh, hello Astrid!” Tessa paused briefly, presumably to listen to Astrid speak, and Kit sighed in relief.
“Kit is occupied at the moment but I can relay the message.” Another pause. “Oh don’t be frightened of me. I’m a tots rad mom. Your secret is safe with me.” Kit felt his face flush red as he heard his best friend’s laughter echo across the living room. “Okay! I’ll let him know. He has to get Mina to sleep before he can leave though. Lord knows he’s the only one who can these days.” Tessa chuckled at something Astrid said before wishing her good luck in her endeavour and ending the call.
She turned her attention back to Kit. “Astrid needs your help breaking into your teacher’s home to retrieve her cell phone.”
Kit blinked at her, dumbfounded. “You aren’t mad I’m going to go break the law?”
Because of course he was doing it. Astrid’s dad had bought it for her and he was extremely cautious about money. That was one of three things Kit knew about her dad. He was cheap, he lived in America and he loved the movie Fight Club.
Tessa ruffled Kit’s hair affectionately. “Please. I’ve raised two other Herondales. At least I know about this particular adventure beforehand.”
Mina began snoring softly and Kit handed her back to her mother. He grabbed his bag and started his journey to the door when Tessa added, “she also told me to say hi to a ‘daddy Kit’. Are you ‘daddy Kit?’”
‘Daddy Kit’ closed his eyes and wished for the sweet release of death.
“Why is Kit a daddy,” Jem asked, genuinely confused. “Aren’t I the daddy?”
Kit swung the door open so fast not even a speed rune could have aided him. But not before I heard Tessa reply, “Lily Chen certainly thinks so.”
Mrs. MacNamara clapped her hands together. “Why don’t we all go around and say a few things about ourselves?”
Kit buried his face into his hands. He’d been relieved when no other teacher had fulfilled the Disney channel stereotype of making every student introduce themselves to the new kid. But Mrs. MacNamara didn’t even seem to realize what she was doing.
All Kit’s fellow classmates groan. Expect one. Her hand shot up immediately. She was short, like smaller than Clary short. She wore a baggy pink shirt with the words ‘Queen Glimmer of Etheria’ sewed on with purple sequins and tight black jeans. Her colourful, choppy hair was in a low ponytail and she flew a few strands out of her eyes as her hand wiggled in the hair.
Mrs. MacNamara pointed at her. She stood up and smiled at Kit. “Hi. My name is Astrid. My hobbies include making my little cousin’s girl Barbies kiss, as it should be, and watching television shows where everyone is a terrible person so you can love all of them!”
“And what shows might that be?” asked Kit, already in the process of pulling out his phone and opening the Notes app.
“Grey’s Anatomy, Glee, Grey’s Anatomy again because it’s seventeen seasons as of right now. And to be fair it practically became a different show when they killed off Mark Sloan.”
“That’s enough, Miss Yang,” said Mrs. MacNamara. Astrid sat down and winked at Kit. Then she took out her phone and airdropped him a complete list of all her favorite shows, along with her number.
After Blessica’s pre-birthday birthday party, they went to Cirenworth and stayed up till four A.M. binging them.
They met outside a queer dry bar called Aries Not Welcome, the unspoken gathering place of the Merry Hoes. It was run by a poly lesbian couple in their mid-thirties. Quinn, Sydney and Aliyah may not have served alcohol but at least they were open 24/7.
“Did you bring the shit?”
Kit gave her a look. “The shit? How conclusive.”
“Shut up. You know, the shadowhunter thing.”
“The shadowhunter thing?”
“The, the, the glow stick that you draw with.”
“The glow stick that I draw wi-“ Kit closed his eyes briefly. “Do you mean a stele?”
Astrid snapped her fingers. “That’s it!” Kit shook his head in exasperation, smiling fondly. “I borrowed a torch from Quinn, let’s move.”
“Should I be worried that you know where Mr. Smith lives?” questioned Kit as he followed Astrid’s lead through the park.
“Should I be worried that your mom was fine with us breaking and entering?” she shot back playfully. Kit pushed Astrid and she fell off the path, laughing all the way.
“You called me ‘daddy’ to my mom’s face.”
She just laughed harder, slinging her arm around Kit’s shoulder. “It was over the phone, Christopher. And as I should.”
“Pffffttt. Why did you get your phone taken anyway?” She put her hands into her jumper pocket and looked at the ground. “Astrid.” She remained silent. “Astrid?”
She mumbled something under her breath. “What?” asked Kit.
“I WAS READING NINEJ FANFICTION!” she shouted.
Kit gasped. “I thought you were a die hard Kanej shipper,” he whispered.
“I’m a multishipper, okay?!” she replied, equally quiet.
“Does Blessica know?”
She shook her head. “And she will never find out.”
Kit saw the opportunity and he seized it. “She’ll never find out as long as you never call me daddy in front of either of my parents.”
She removed her arm from his shoulder and guided them out of the park, in the direction of the many apartments that lined this side of town. “I hate you.”
“Well, so does Mari. You're not special, Ast.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know Mari doesn’t actually hate you, right?! They’re just still in the enemy phase of your enemies-to-lovers romance. She only dislikes you because they feel something for you but they don’t know what so she interrupts it as loathing. In reality, her inner soul knows you’re hot and shmexie.”
Kit didn’t know how to process this so he just nodded and follow Astrid in silence to Mr. Smith’s house. (Plus, he was kinda glad that, according to his best friend, he had a little more time for Mari to ‘discover their true feelings’. If Kit screwed this up, he was out of countries to run off to.)
“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“What,” asked Kit, turning around to face Astrid and closing the drawer he was rifling through. “Did you find your phone?”
“Yeah. But I also found Blessica’s. She was Snapping Kevin. Platonic my ass. But he took the fucking trans flag out of her phone!”
Kit snatched Blessica’s phone out of her hand to examine it for herself. She was telling the truth. Where the glitter pride flag usually rested was just a clear purple case. Kit couldn’t believe his eyes.
“It’s one thing to misgender her every day.” Blessica had forced all four of the other Merry Hoes to sign a contract saying they wouldn’t do anything to harm him because of it. “But this is the last straw. You know what we have to do.” Oops.
“Yeah, but we don’t have any spray paint.”
Kit eyed Mr. Smith’s pink sofa, blue bar stool covers and white picture frames. “I think I have something better in mind.”
It would have been easier for both parties to just zip off the sofa cushions and tape them to the wall but by ripping them off in strips, they ensured he would have to buy new ones. And judging by the car he drove and the fiji water in his fridge, Mr. Smith could definitely afford it.
That reminded him, “I’ll finish up with this. Go put all his fiji water into my bag.” Astrid saluted him and ran off. “Wait.” She stopped and looked at him. “Steal all the remotes you can find.”
“How is he not awake?,” asked Astrid as they ripped the fabric of his seating from the stool.
He shrugged. “Don’t question it.” He shoved the bundle of cloth into her arms. “Glue this above the pink. I’ll handle the frames.”
“Say the magic word,” she sang.
“Please?”
“No. Lesbian. Come on, I thought you knew me better than that.”
Kit laughed quietly. “Can you lesbian glue this above the pink?”
She grinned at Kit. “It would be my pleasure.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hello! Sorry I haven’t written anything in so long. School just restarted and it has been…a lot.
@adoravel-fenomeno @thechangeling @the-blackdale @the-wckd-powers @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped @noah-herondale-lightwood @arangiajoan @shelvesofgold @maxboythedog @book-dragon-not-worm @hardlymatters
Very sorry if I forgot anyone. Lmk if you want to be addEd/removEd from the tag list.
#mari the werewolf#mari machado sotomayor#mari machado#kit rook#kit herondale#astrid yang#blessica reyes#Kevin chu#tessa grey#jem carstairs#lily chen#mina carstairs
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im so sorry for the vagueness of this, but please. any kind of ghostbur+sbi angst. please.
Characters: Ghostbur, c!Tommy, c!Techno, c!Phil Word count: 1497 words Content: canon divergence, techno’s execution, post exile, Tommy is sick, Techno is injured, gore, blood, whump, angst, hurt/comfort, mention of death, SBI, sleepybois inc,
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He sees the anvil drop.
He sees Techno crumble, falling to his knees before springing back up. Ghostbur can only stare, as if hypnotized by the gory scene before him, because Techno is very much a skeleton, slowly being stitched back together by some unseen force. Logically, he knows it’s the totem of undying working its magic, but emotionally, Ghostbur knows he’s never going to purge this memory from his brain.
He holds Friend closer to himself as he watches Techno jump away and disappear in the following madness. If he had a heart, it’d be pounding rapidly. If he had lungs, he’d be wheezing and gasping in fear. The ability to cry is also nonexistent, leaving the ghost unable to do anything but stare at the empty cage. Ghostbur stares for a long time.
When he looks up at Phil, trying to find some explanation for what happened, he finds that Phil’s house is empty. Phil must’ve snuck out in the chaos, when Tubbo and the rest of the ‘butcher army�� hadn’t been watching.
Now he’s alone. There’s no one else around, no distant voices to help him come back to reality. Reality is watching a long time friend turn into a skeleton and magically stitch himself back together, before running for his life. Reality is his father being put under house arrest simply for protecting Techno.
Reality is Friend bumping into him, startling him out of his swirling thoughts. Ghostbur puts a smile on his face, taking the lead and tugging Friend inside Phil’s house. The sheep will be safe here for the moment, while Ghostbur thinks of someone to turn to. He needs comfort from someone who can actually speak to him.
Tommy comes to mind.
Part of Ghostbur wonders if he should even talk to Tommy, because he hadn’t seem Tommy since before his party. Would Tommy be angry with him for not showing up? Maybe it’s a risk worth taking, because it’s Tommy, and they love each other. A dim memory surfaces; he remembers Phil mentioning the other day that he’d been in contact with Tommy, and Tommy’s now safe from any sort of harm. Ghostbur wonders if that means Tommy’s at the cabin, so he heads in that direction.
It doesn’t take long for Ghostbur to reach the cabin. He hopes the others are already here and in one piece, but Ghostbur can’t get the image of the execution out of his head. If he had the ability to feel sick, he’d probably be vomiting in the snow.
Techno’s clearly home, because Ghostbur can see the trail of blood leading toward the cabin. Carl, his horse, is also just outside, unharmed.
Before Ghostbur can enter, he hears raised voices. He pauses at the door, leaning closer to hear more clearly, but nothing he’s hearing sounds great.
“Techno, hold still, you’re bleeding everywhere! You’ll also wake Tommy.”
“I’m sorry, I had to rip my arm out of an entire bar, right after being executed! I’m not exactly going to remember my manners for the stupid kid beneath us. He can always sleep later!”
“If you don’t shut up and hold still, I will splash you with a weakness pot and smack you over the head so I can heal you properly. Your bones need to set and you need stitches.”
Ghostbur’s heard enough. He barges in, trying to plaster a smile on his face, but it feels off when he sees the wound on Techno’s arm. It’s not just a deep gash, but a giant hole where muscle and skin should be. There are tears in the pig’s eyes, there’s an expression of anger in Phil’s eyes that render him almost inhuman. If Ghostbur were to actually let himself think about it, he’d admit he was terrified of them both right now.
“Ghostbur,” Phil says curtly. “Go downstairs and check on Tommy.”
“Your arm-”
“I’ll explain it to you later Ghostbur,” Techno grumbles. “Do what Phil says and don’t ask questions.”
“I was there! I saw what happened! Phil, I left Friend in your house.”
“Ghostbur, go downstairs and sit with Tommy. He needs someone more than Techno does.” Phil’s voice has an air of finality to it; Ghostbur doesn’t want to argue with him. Shoulders slumping in disappointment, he disappears down the ladder to check on Tommy.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen the boy since before his beach party. Would Tommy be mad at him for not showing up? Why is Tommy even here, isn’t he supposed to be on holiday? Everything is far too confusing anymore, but even those thoughts are pushed out of his mind when he sees the teen sitting in a bed.
Tommy is far too thin and sickly looking. His skin is too pale, almost colorless, with dirty, greasy hair falling into sunken eyes. Each breath he takes is a painful wheeze, his fingers tremble too much to grip the bowl of food he’s trying to eat.
Tommy’s gaze flicks up briefly when he sees Ghostbur, glancing back down a second later. “Hello.” Even the boy’s voice is rough.
First he watches Techno die, now he has to see his brother sick and malnourished? What kind of holiday had he been on?
“Tommy?” He moves closer, just as afraid of the teen as he was of Techno. Ghostbur already wants to forget today’s events and go back to being ignorant. He’s happier when he doesn’t have to think about anything.
“Surprise, we’re all alive.” Tommy’s tone is unbelievably dark, as if he doesn’t believe it himself. “One minute I’m contemplating everything that went wrong, and the next, Philza’s carrying me here like I suddenly matter. I go to sleep, and wake up to Techno missing half an arm. Dunno what happened there, neither of them will tell me.”
“I watched Techno die,” Ghostbur blurts. He probably shouldn’t have phrased it like that, but the words are out. “He had a totem though, so he survived. It’s a good thing, I think.”
“Ah.” Tommy sets the bowl of food aside, lying back down. Rather than looking colorless now, he’s turning a shade of green. “That’s information I didn’t need while trying to eat.”
“I’m sorry Tommy.”
“Are you okay?” Tommy asks. “Forget about me, I’m in great shape. You, on the other hand, look pretty shaken up.”
“Ah, yeah.” Ghostbur looks away. “Tommy, I forget a lot and I’m not the best, but what happened to Techno isn’t fading. I’m not sure how to process it.”
“You need a hug or something?” Tommy stretches one arm out toward Ghostbur. “Because you look like you could use one.”
“Are you sure you’re not using that as an excuse to get a hug for yourself?” Ghostbur can’t resist the tease. Nor can he resist the offer, letting himself move closer until he’s in Tommy’s arms.
“Fuck you, I don’t need a hug from anyone.” Tommy’s voice is muffled. “I’m independent and can do anything I want to on my own.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” Phil’s voice interrupts. “Even on your deathbed, you’re going to give us all a headache.”
Ghostbur’s eyes nearly bug out. “Deathbed?” His gaze whips back toward Tommy to make sure Tommy isn’t actually dying. “Does he need a tot-”
“Ghostbur, relax. Tommy isn’t dying, and I assume you’re here to talk about Techno. He’s not dying either. Everyone here will be fine.” Phil rolls his eyes. “All three of you are the most dramatic shits I have the misfortune of knowing.”
“Fuck you Phil,” Tommy groans. “I can still fight you.”
“If you can get up without fainting, I’d love to take you on,” Phil laughs.
“Is... Techno’s really okay though, right?” Ghostbur asks. “Because-”
“Ghostbur.” Phil sombers up to give the ghost his full attention. “I’m sorry you had to see that earlier. I know it’s not easy, and judging by your reaction, your brain isn’t letting you forget it so easily. Techno’s strong, Tommy’s strong. We’re all going to make it out of this in one piece, alright?”
Ghostbur looks down. “Three of you will. I’m afraid it’s a little late for me, dad.”
No one has a come back to that. Whatever fragile bonds still connect this broken family are still fraying. Ghostbur may be there, they may be able to see and hear and touch him, laugh with him even. At the end of the day though, it’s a harsh reminder that he is not Wilbur, that the Wilbur they’d all loved is still dead, and not even his ghost can replace him.
“Hey Ghostbur?” Tommy tugs on his sleeve. “Will you stay with me for awhile?”
“Yeah.” Ghostbur lies back down, wrapping his arms around the teen. Everything about the boy is too bony, nothing about his appearance is okay. He wonders if Tommy actually is dying.
Nothing more needs to be said though. Broken family or no, at least all four of them are together.
#dream smp#dream smp fanfiction#tommyinnit#wilbur soot#ghostbur#technoblade#philza#sleepybois inc#sbi fanfiction#angst#whump#gore#blood#mention of death#techno's execution#post-exile#canon divergence#slight canon complience#loosely based off hog hunt#sad-ist#long post#miishae writes#anon
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