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#here is someone you are closer to than pretty much anyone else in the world but as time goes on and as the forgetting occurs
seyaryminamoto · 6 hours
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My latest completed commission may have been a bit ambitious... because I went wild with it. But I certainly relished in doing so :') Combining my favorite ship with my favorite-ever Disney movie is, uh... a dangerous concoction :'D
The commissioner specifically requested for Azula as Mulan, Sokka as Shang, and Xin Long (my OC dragon from Gladiator) as Mushu. The rest of the cast was up to me to choose, and I pretty much went wild rewatching this movie and picking out some of my favorite moments to recreate them in my style, with these characters. I came up with a lot of correlating characters between both ATLA and 1998's Mulan, but I couldn't hope to draw EVERYTHING, unfortunately. Still, if you want my reasoning for the cast correlation... check out the Read More! Beyond that, feel free to reach out to me if you'd like to commission me, or if you want to join my Patreon!
The Herbalist as Mulan's grandmother might feel arbitrary but she honestly felt like the ATLA elderly lady with the most similar personality to Grandma Fa. Fickle, with a unique connection with a seemingly perfectly ordinary animal, old and sassy? Figured it fit! So for once, the Herbalist is Azula's grandma! xD strange notion, I know, Azulon/Herbalist is not a ship I ever thought I'd accidentally put out in the world but there have been wilder ships than that in this fandom...
Momo became Cri-Kee, I wasn't 100% sold on it but when I considered that Avatar features soooo many hybrid animals... I figured he could be a hybrid cricket-lemur. Weird, I know, but eh? Better than nothing xD
Aang as Chien-Po was a no-brainer. He's the only character I settled on instantly, never even considered anyone else for the role. Their personalities line up really well, and Chien-Po's tendency to be OP and resolve things that are outside of other people's reach sounded like he was prime Avatar material! So, while their dietary preferences are an obvious difference between them, I decided to go for it nonetheless considering all their other similarities!
Kino (another Gladiator OC) is Ling, and he actually did give me a ton of trouble to choose. I considered many characters for the role right up until I realized that Kino's personality actually lines up fairly well with Ling's, down to being a class clown type (who ABSOLUTELY would have cut gym class!) and breaking out in song about the hypothetical woman he'd like to fight for? Yeeeeah that's right up his alley xD but there's another reason why I picked Kino...
... And that is my likely unexpected choice for Yao:
ZUKO.
ZUKO IS YAO.
YES.
I'M NOT EVEN SORRY.
(For the uninitiated, Aang, Zuko and Kino are best friends in Gladiator, very often together, and they make a really good team, so that's the extra reason why Kino became the obvious choice for Ling aside from having really similar personalities, definitely closer personalities than, say, Jet, for instance.)
People have likened Zuko to Shang a LOT since ATLA aired. This is the main reason why I'm even making this huge note! I suspect it's primarily because of the aesthetic, let's be real here, and because he becomes Aang's teacher, but people have exaggerated Zuko's alleged similarities with Shang, or taken them out of proportion, in many ways. I actually remember an AMV ages ago with "Be a Man" and it was Zuko "training the Gaang"?? It... didn't feel right to me. Obviously, someone might rebuff with "well, how does Sokka make MORE sense than that, though?" And believe it or not, I have arguments for that... (when do I not...?)
Not only is this what the commissioner specifically requested (and it obviously lines up with the ship we love!), but let's examine the actual reasons why Sokka as Shang adds up:
Sokka actually had to train a bunch of toddlers who weren't paying any attention to him. You know. Kind of how Shang had to train the unruly soldiers who weren't getting anything right. Sokka has a positive relationship with his dad (Zuko, ofc, does not). Shang also has a positive relationship with his dad! And not only this, but there's a military component to both relationships, specifically with Shang wanting to follow on his father's footsteps and aid him in the war... so much like someone else I know, who jumped at every opportunity to rejoin his father in the war, even wishing to join him as a child until Hakoda tasked him with protecting their Tribe instead (kinda like Shang is tasked with training soldiers rather than joining a battlefield).
And the final cherry-on-top that I'd loooove to hear Zuko fans try to argue against... is sexism :') didn't Sokka get characterized as a sexist guy for four episodes, which made people decide that this was his main character trait even if it went away that quickly? Um, yes, that happened. Shang literally sings the memorable song that's a crazy ode to masculinity, including the rather sexist line of "did they send me daughters when I asked for sons". Shang outright abandons Mulan once they discover that she was a woman all along (while, admittedly, choosing to abandon her rather than KILL HER, which as we saw from Chi-Fu, he was NOT supposed to spare her!)...
So, is this REALLY what Zuko fans, who willfully believe their boy is a feminist king (... why? beats me...) are trying to compare their unproblematic blorbo to? :'D Me? I have no problem linking Sokka with Shang due to Sokka's beginnings and due to the fact that both Shang and Sokka have similar growth when it comes to accepting femininity is as valid as masculinity, and as they both learn to respect women as fighters and potential heroes! (I simply do not believe Sokka's ENTIRE tenure in ATLA was about that, though, and that's what I continue to clash with the fandom over...) So... all this is why I've reasoned that Sokka is a VERY solid choice for Shang, in fact, better than Zuko could hope to be.
... but this isn't all.
Maybe some might accept my arguments for Sokka-Shang. And then, they might ask:
WHY ZUKO AS YAO, THO??
... And the truth is it took me long to see it, myself, but HOLY SHIT, DOES IT FIT!
What is the primary thing we remember about Yao in Mulan? This guy is constantly itching for a fight, to prove himself, surely riddled with insecurities that he exteriorizes through overcompensation of masculinity. He's funny as fuck, but he's taking himself 100% seriously as a manly man all the time, and he's always ready for violence. But there's one more thing...
He treats Mulan as his RIVAL.
And more often than not? SHE SCREWS HIM OVER. Intentionally or not.
What does that sound like? Why, yes, it sounds a LOT like Azula and Zuko's sibling relationship!
The fact that Yao is a temperamental dude who lashes out easily at things (oh, something he has in common with Zuko!), that he specifically resents Mulan (in this case, Azula, just as Zuko does!) and is either constantly looking to defeat her and prove his superiority over her (... wait, just as Zuko with Azula??), that he has a black eye perpetually across the movie, and it's his LEFT EYE (just as Zuko's scar is on his left eye! :'D), that he's friends with a pacifist he has basically nothing in common with, personality-wise (just like Zuko and Aang!), and that he pretty much has a REDEMPTION ARC in which he goes from a bitter, asshole rival to Mulan to treating her as a friend and ally, to the point where he was disappointed to leave her behind and THEN joined her at once when she says she has a plan? :') I have always been critical of Zuko's redemption arc, goes without saying. But if ANY of these characters redeemed himself in any significant way, it certainly seems to be Yao to me, and with people gushing NON-STOP about Zuko's redemption? Why, he ought to be the character who goes from bitter rival to loyal friend, right?
So. I'm not even sorry. Zuko is Yao. And I'd dare say that he should be flattered by the comparison, even, because Yao ends up being cool as FUCK!
I don't really talk about this much nowadays, but Mulan was my favorite Disney movie growing up, it ABSOLUTELY had a formative influence on me as a little girl, and Mulan was my favorite female character for a looooong time. Thus, any excuse to rewatch this movie makes me happy as heck. With the wisdom of age I know, of course, that it's not perfect, it's not what China wants, it's not the most thoughtful depiction of Chinese culture or the most faithful adaptation of Mulan's poem (... but I'd also dare bring up that the 2009 Chinese adaptation ISN'T all that faithful either...), but it has a kind of magic in it, a solid storytelling flow, so many memorable moments one after the next, that I could hardly choose which scenes to depict... Disney hasn't seen the storytelling heights it reached with Mulan in 1998. I don't even care if that's a controversial opinion in any way... this is their best animated feature for me, and nobody can change my mind.
So... depicting Azula, my beloved, in all these scenarios as this character I adored and idolized as a child, was so damn fulfilling for me. While some might think that, personality-wise, these two ladies don't have much in common, the fact that Mulan is sent to a matchmaker who basically tells her she looks good but is going to be the worst wife ever...? Our girl Azula, with all those insecurities about being unloveable and a monster, probably would relate big time to that.
Mulan is also an INTELLIGENT soldier rather than a brawny one, which is how she starts to make progress in the army, it's how she manages to overcome the huns with that avalanche... and Azula's primary difference with most other antagonists in ATLA is that she's smart as fuck. She is very strong, no doubt, but a LOT of that strength comes from her intelligence, from assessing situations in unique ways, from planning and strategizing. The way Mulan finds the most unexpected solutions that still pay off reminds me a lot of how Azula achieves unexpected feats through rather unorthodox means, capable of taking over a city with basically no bloodshed while her nation has spent 100 years trying and failing to do so through major army incursions and who knows how much senseless violence. Obviously, I'm not saying what Azula did is GOOD and it's kind of dumb that we always have to point that out... I'm merely comparing the magnitude of the feats, and the fact that they both come from ladies who use strategy and intelligence to achieve their goals rather than muscle and physical power.
And while anyone would rage at me for the comparison between Fa Zhou (her dad) and Ozai, the truth is the dynamic between them CAN be compared, if loosely: Mulan literally goes to war to keep her father safe. Azula goes to war under her father's orders. Hell, she makes herself BAIT in the Eclipse to make sure the Gaang won't get to her dad?? While it's very much possible to say that both characters have different personalities and attitudes in life... I'd also bring up that their contexts are evidently completely different. I wouldn't say for certain that Azula, had she been raised outside a Royal Family, would be EXACTLY like Mulan... but they might have more similar traits than one might expect. Ultimately, though... I love them both. And this opportunity to swap their places was pretty much a dream come true!
Alright, that was plenty of rambling xD ultimately, I had a blast doing this commission, as I'm sure is obvious by now. So! If anyone wants to commission me, feel free to check out my prices right here and hit me up if you're interested!
#sokkla#sokka#azula#mulan au#xin long#zuko#aang#kino#the herbalist#momo#if you squint he's there okay he is just too damn complicated as a hybrid cricket-lemur alright#Xin Long is scale-less because he was too small and it was gonna look weird so for once he was a little less tricky :'D#I wish I could've had MORE epic scenes really this movie is a goddamn GEM#goldmine of glorious moments#it's just wonderful#I usually get sick of things as I work too much with them...#... Sokkla and Mulan are clearly a glorious exception to that rule#I wish I could've put in scenes with other correlating characters#Combustion Man was gonna be Shan-Yu#Chi-Fu was gonna be Long Feng#I can't remember who I had in mind for the emperor anymore#wasn't Kuei because he had to be old but welp#and yes it's too bad it's too sad there are not enough female characters here for the rest of the ATLA female cast...#but while I BRIEFLY considered making Toph one of the trio (Yao ofc)#the naked scene convinced me of the opposite quickly#... Toph would not succeed at convincing anyone that she was born a man she would straight up not even try#she'd just beat everyone up and scare them into shutting up#and while I'd LOVE to see that... it absolutely takes out the stakes from Azula being discovered as a woman pretending to be a man :'D#how tf would you kick one girl out while keeping the other one in the army#when the other one should be bold enough to stand on a rock in her birthday suit showing herself off in front of everyone
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zannolin · 8 months
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BEST thing. about the five kingdoms end. is that it's implied cole and jenna aren't a thing thank god. brutal ending still but at least there's that.
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imagine-you · 2 months
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won't somebody come take me home? [Logan/Reader]
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Summary: You've been abandoned to the Void after experiencing heartbreak in your universe. Instead of becoming food for Alioth or one of Cassandra's underlings, you find a new family with the resistance seeking to bring her down. When Johnny doesn't come back to the hideout, you keep watch in the hopes of seeing his return. Instead, you find a Deadpool variant fighting someone who looks achingly familiar. Someone who reminds you of your old life and the person who broke your heart. When you finally come face to face with a Logan after being pruned from your universe, you're not expecting the longing you're met with or the fact that in his universe, you were his wife. Word Count: 7.7k Author's Note: I've wanted to write for X-Men for so long and then I saw Deadpool and Wolverine and fell in love with Logan all over again. If you like this, please let me know! I'm so nervous about writing for a new fandom. And if you want to see more X-Men stuff from me, please let me know that as well! Reader's song for this is definitely I'm With You by Avril Lavigne, but I kind of imagine Logan's ends up being Hanging By a Moment by Lifehouse.
closer to where I started // all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me
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Everyone in the Void had a tragic backstory that was befitting a hero or villain or anything in between. You were the ones who were lost, abandoned, or forgotten by your worlds and the people you cared about more than anyone else.
You didn't remember much about how you got to the Void, but you had a pretty good understanding of why you were dropped into the barren wasteland for the multiverse's landfill.
Like most people in the Void, you were here because of heartbreak. The one person you had loved with your entire being had loved someone else. You had given him your all, but he only gave you a piece of himself. And when he ripped that piece of himself away, leaving you aching and broken, you were swept out like unwanted trash and right into the Void.
"What's got you so down today, ma chérie?" Remy dropped down into the chair at your side.
You huffed out a laugh that was nowhere near amused. "Besides the fact that we're all stuck here and trying to avoid Cassandra and her wandering fingers?" You brought your hand up and wriggled them in Remy's face, reluctantly letting out a laugh when he snapped his teeth at them.
"Ah, there's that smile," he mused, bumping his shoulder into yours. "You thinkin' 'bout your old life?"
You rolled your eyes, inanely feeling your throat tighten as you fought the urge to cry. You kept your gaze on the bottle of whiskey on the table. Remy reached for it, but he met resistance and turned a glare on you.
You shrugged your shoulders before dropping the forcefield. "I had a dream about him last night," you admitted with a scowl. "About what happened and how no one on my team had my back. How they all thought it was inevitable." You snorted before you quickly grabbed the bottle and took a swig, relishing the burn that traveled down your throat and sent warmth pulsing through your chest. You handed it over to Remy, ignoring his obvious annoyance.
"Listen, you're a lot better off now than you were with those fuckers," he consoled as he finally wrapped his hand around the bottle. "But don't go gettin' between me and my drink, now," he warned, his eyes briefly flashing red before fading away. "I'm not like those assholes who abandoned you. You've got nothin' to hate me for."
"You're real shit at pep talks, you know that?" Johnny cut in, knocking into Remy as he walked by. "Leave Y/N alone. She doesn't want to put up with your bullshit right now."
"And you suppose she wants to put up with yours? All you've got is bullshit," Remy taunted, idly twirling a card between his fingers. It was half a threat, but Johnny would only fight fire with fire and Remy knew it. Elektra had forbidden both of them from using their powers in the hideout, since they had almost burned it down last time.
"Will you both just stop?" You groaned, letting your head hit the table. Someone reached out to pat you on the shoulder, but you didn't bother to look and see who did it. "I love and respect you both dearly, but if you leave another scorch mark in here, then we'll all be in trouble."
Remy obediently stowed the card back up his sleeve while Johnny rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, whatever," he sighed before making for the door. “See you later.”
"Where are you going?" You called, watching him retreat.
"I'll be around," Johnny answered, shooting you a smirk over his shoulder. "I always come back, don't I?"
You didn't get a chance to respond before he was gone. You always worried about Johnny when he went on his little trips around the Void. He swore he would be careful not to run into any of Cassandra's goons, but you knew all of your days were limited. Whether it was Alioth or Cassandra or one of the many rogue Deadpools wandering around, it was only a matter of time before trouble found you.
Remy stood up and placed the half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of you. "Just this once," he allowed with a wink. "You appreciate that, though, you hear?"
"Thanks," you muttered before reaching for the bottle.
You spent the rest of the day trying to block out the dream while you trained with Laura.
You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't realize you had company.
"Damn, what's got you so riled up?"
You turned to look at Eric, surprised to see him standing there. You then realized your knuckles had split open and you had trashed the makeshift punching bag you had made out of an old blanket and some sand.
"Nothing," you deflected, half-tempted to go invisible just so no one could see you. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, you knew you had his full attention and you didn't want another lecture on leaving your past behind.
No one on your team was good at that, but you were arguably the worst at letting your pain go.
You always hated when you dreamt about Logan. His last words to you echoing in your mind over and over. You hadn't been enough for him, but Jean? Jean was everything he wanted. You supposed your powers paled in comparison and you would never measure up when all you could do was conjure forcefields and become invisible. Logan had been in love with her from the first moment he laid eyes on her, but you had never seen that look on his face when he looked at you.
It was a pity that you had given Logan everything only to be cast aside for the one who truly held his heart.
If Johnny were there, he would have told Blade to mind his own business, but he still hadn't come back.
"Again," Laura prompted, drawing your attention towards the punching bag. It was half-demolished, but you figured you still had some fight in you.
You noticed her shake her head at Eric as you turned away and focused all your hurt into your fists, watching the bag fall apart.
Johnny hadn't returned by the next morning and you were starting to worry.
You considered everyone your family, but you had a special bond with Johnny. He had been the first person to welcome you to the resistance and you, specifically your powers, had reminded him of his sister. He opened up to you about how much he missed his team, his family, and you told him about the heartbreak you had endured in your universe.
"I'll tell you what, if I ever get my hands on your Logan, I'll light the fucker on fire."
You felt a laugh bubble out of you. It was the first time you had laughed in ages and it felt so good to know you could still find joy in things. "He'd just regenerate."
"Not when I'm done with him," Johnny promised. "I'll cook him 'til he's just a heap of ash and then you'll dance on his remains."
You shook your head, but let Johnny carry on with his elaborate plan for revenge on your behalf. Johnny would never meet your Logan and you knew you would never actually see him again. Everyone in the Void was forgotten and there was no escape.
"You worried about Johnny?" Elektra wondered, coming to stand at your side.
You were keeping an eye on the horizon, searching for any sign that Johnny was coming home.
"It's not like him to be gone this long without some kind of message he's okay.
"He's gotten this far, hasn't he?" Elektra pointed out, shooting you a reassuring look. "He'll be fine."
You nodded your head, but didn't budge from your spot.
"You plan on staying out here all night?" Elektra asked.
"If I have to," you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. "What if he's in trouble?"
"Then you won't be any help to him sleep-deprived," she answered.
"I've had worse," you deflected with a forced grin.
Elektra sighed, but didn't try to dissuade you again.
You had a pair of binoculars Laura had scavenged and you were doing your best to keep an eye on your surroundings. You were surveying a forest when something caught your attention. You focused on the sight, wondering for a moment if Elektra had been right and sleep deprivation was messing with your mind.
You pulled the binoculars away and blinked a few times before looking through them again.
"Ah fuck," you groaned when you realized that what you were seeing was real.
"What's wrong?" Laura asked, startling you.
"Shit," you hissed, nearly dropping the binoculars. You handed them over and pointed towards what previously held your attention. "You see that?"
"Is that--?" Laura cut herself off before shooting you a disbelieving look. "It's him."
"With a Deadpool," you confirmed with a nod of your head.
"We should get them before someone else does," Laura suggested, handing the binoculars back to you.
You hesitated, knowing she was right, but hating the idea of seeing him again.
"I can go alone," Laura offered. You knew she also loved her Logan, but he had been like a father to her up until his final moments. Your Logan had managed to bring you nothing but pain and insecurity.
"No," you told her with a firm shake of your head. Johnny had gone off alone and now it had been almost two days since the last time you saw him. In the Void, that was as good as a death sentence. "I'll go with you."
You let the others know you were off to rescue two new recruits to the resistance and helpfully left out the fact that one of those people was a Logan variant.
Laura led the way and you followed in her tracks. You kept yourself invisible, knowing that if anyone came after Laura, then you could use your presence as a surprise. You had also learned to use your forcefields as a weapon as much as a defense and you were ready if anyone tried to attack.
Once you got to the station wagon, you let yourself become visible again. You slowly approached the car while Laura investigated the clearing for any signs that you might have been followed. You could see the Deadpool variant wrapped up in the seatbelts, but you couldn't help but let your focus stray to Logan.
He was different from your Logan, but seeing his face hurt all the same. Your Logan had taken everything from you and given nothing back except for pain. This Logan was a stranger, but he still brought up familiar feelings. Love and confusion and agony.
"Is he yours?" Laura wondered, finally joining you in your study of Logan.
"No," you assured her. "Mine would've never been caught dead in the yellow suit," you admitted with just the tiniest hint of relief. You never wanted to see your Logan again, but you couldn't help but admit to yourself that didn't mean you never wanted to see any other Logan. You were scared, terrified of the pain he might cause you, but you hadn't been able to let go of the love you held for him. You were sure, even in that moment, that you would love Logan in every universe. It was too bad he wouldn't love you just the same.
Although, you supposed you didn't really have a Logan. You never did, since the one from your universe was never yours in the first place.
Doubt and wariness began to creep in and you started to herd Laura towards the Honda you were half-sure belonged to the Nicepool variant. "You drive," you prompted, opening the passenger door seat and carefully sitting among the wreckage and blood that was practically painted on every surface of the car.
Laura started the car and you glanced over your shoulder, waiting for the two backseat occupants to stir, but they were both still knocked out.
"They really did a number on each other," you muttered, your gaze already back on Logan.
Laura was silent for long enough that you thought she was ignoring you. "It's not your Logan," she reminded you after a couple of minutes. You realized you were still watching him and finally forced yourself to turn around in your seat.
"It's not," you confirmed, studying your hands in your lap. You let them shift in and out of visibility, a nervous habit you had when you were torn between fight and flight.
"Then he's not the one who hurt you," she continued, keeping her focus on the path in front of you.
"He's not the one who saved you," you shot back. The way she looked at this Logan like she was seeing her savior miraculously alive all over again had felt like a punch in the gut. You were both mourning and the source of it had just dropped right back into your lives. "He might be worse," you pointed out.
"He might be better," she argued with a quick glance at you. "He might not even know us."
"Yeah," you sighed, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, silently apologizing for being so defensive. "Eric's right," you conceded with a grimace. "I need to let it go."
"Hard to let something like that go," she allowed with a soft smile at you. She was the only one who knew the full story. Johnny knew most of it and the others knew enough, but Laura had loved her own Logan like family. She knew what it was like to lose him, albeit in a very different way.
When you got back to the hideout, Laura helped free Deadpool while you formed a forcefield around Logan and used it to lift him out of the car. Charles had claimed it was a form of telekinesis, but you always told him you were just controlling the forcefield. Whatever was inside it just happened to move with it. If you dropped the forcefield, then whatever was inside it would fall.
Laura dragged Deadpool inside while you let Logan hover through the air and into the hideout. Laura left Deadpool on the floor, but you were careful with Logan and let him hover just over the bed you used before letting him go.
Laura shot you a bemused look before going to let the others know you had company.
You weren't really sure what to do with yourself, so you settled for pacing from one end of the room to the other. You were halfway across the room when you heard a rustling noise behind you. You half-hoped it was Deadpool waking up, but when you turned around, it was to see Logan squinting up at the ceiling.
You froze, not daring to move a muscle. Logan blinked a few times before he began to sit up. He stopped and then tilted his head up, sniffing the air. You had always found the way he used his enhanced sense of smell adorable, even if no one else did. He suddenly turned and buried his face in your pillow, pulling in deep breaths. He reached up to clutch the pillow in his hand as he sat up, keeping it pressed to his face.
You weren't even really sure what was going on, so by the time he finally lowered the pillow and met your gaze, you were staring at him completely dumbstruck.
Several emotions warred for control on Logan's face when he saw you. Grief, despair, heartbreak, hope, disbelief, and relief. Finally, he seemed to pull them all together into a neutral expression.
"Y/N," he started, taking a step towards you.
You instinctively took a step back. You knew that this Logan wasn't the one who hurt you, but it was hard to let all of that go when someone who looked exactly like your Logan was staring right at you.
"You're alive," he tried again, taking another step, as if he was drawn to you.
"I am," you answered, your hands clenched into fists at your side. You couldn't handle the way Logan was looking at you. He looked at you like you were his whole world. You would have killed to get your Logan to look at you like that. But having it now, from a different Logan, felt equal parts thrilling and unsettling. "Who am I to you?" You asked, needing to know what you were dealing with now. You had assumed maybe you were part of Logan's team in his universe, but he was hopelessly in love with Jean and didn't give a fuck about you. The way he was looking at you told an entirely different story.
"You're--," he started before he looked down at his left hand. You could see a wedding band around his ring finger. "You're my wife," he finally admitted as he balled his hand into a fist. "You were, at least," he added with a grimace. "And me? What am I to you in your universe?"
You didn't know whether to tell the truth or lie. But Logan had always known you way too well and any story you spun would unravel as you told it. "I loved you," you finally confessed. "But you left me for someone else," you continued, noting the way Logan's expression tightened, rage flashing in his eyes.
"Who?" He growled, advancing on you.
It was your biggest shame and worst heartbreak, so you faltered over the name for a moment. But you weren't even in the same universe as her or him anymore and it was time for you to stop running from your pain.
"Jean. He left me for Jean, alright? It didn't matter that I loved him and it didn't matter that we were together. Scott died and Jean needed someone and apparently that couldn't be anyone but him. He told me it was nothing, but I knew. He never looked at me the way you just did. He looked at her like she was the only person he cared about and when he left me for her, I ended up here," you hissed, finally walking towards Logan. "And I bet neither of them ever gave a fuck that I just up and disappeared. So, seeing you now has brought up all the shit he put me through," you snarled, reaching out to push at his shoulder.
"Y/N, I--," he started, reaching out for you. His expression was nearly reverent as he let his hand fall on your shoulder.
"Don't," you said, pushing away from him. "I'm not your wife," you snapped, hating the way his expression closed off and was replaced with that look he got when he was trying not to feel anything at all.
"And I'm not him," he shot back. His gaze drifted to the side and he reached out to grab a bottle of Remy's whiskey. He popped the top off the bottle and took a long swig.
You heard someone groan before you looked over at Deadpool. He brought a hand up to his head and Logan turned to watch him. He took another drink, keeping the bottle close to his chest, as he approached Wade.
"Ugh, what's with the angry bear staring me down?" Wade wondered, finally sitting up. "Also, where the hell are we? Are we about to be skinned and used as decoration for some post-apocalyptic lair?"
"Do you ever shut up?" Logan growled, taking another drink.
You knew it took a lot to get Logan drunk, but at the rate he was going, he would end up there by nightfall.
Deadpool finally scanned the room and noticed you. He got to his feet and pointed a finger at you. "Oh, holy shit. You're Y/N! You're a big part of this guy's tragic backstory, I can tell ya that, so what are you doing here?" Wade reached out to clap a hand to Logan's shoulder and got brushed off.
"That's enough!" Elektra called before walking into the room.
Wade looked shocked to see Elektra, but his eyes went wide at the sight of Blade striding into the room. Gambit then made his entrance before Laura took up the rear of the group.
Introductions went around, before Wade started in on Gambit and his accent. You could tell Remy was reluctantly amused, but he was distracted by something else.
Remy dismissed Wade and focused in on Logan. He shot you a quick, concerned look before he began flipping a card as he studied Logan. "Well, we've never had a Wolverine up in here before. Not sure we've ever wanted one here before," he said with another look at you. "I can tell you now it's just a common courtesy to at least ask before you go drinking up all my liquor."
"It's a good thing I don't give a fuck," Logan responded before taking another drink.
Remy's eyes burned red as he muttered an insult under his breath. He let the card in his hand go, letting it slice the bottle of liquor in half. Glass and whiskey rained down on Logan's boots, but he looked unbothered. He reached out to grab another bottle before pulling the top off and taking a drink.
"Oh, you sure are an asshole, aren't you? I'm starting to see why you hate this one," Remy continued, aiming the last sentence at you.
"You hate him?" Wade asked, whipping his head back and forth, from you to Logan and back again. Wade gasped and turned to point an accusing finger at Logan. "You and you," he pointed to you, "aren't a you in your universe?" He pressed his hands together, letting his fingers interlock. "What'd he do? Was he too busy practicing his brooding in the mirror? He try to slip you a little adamantium surprise in the bedroom? Did he--"
"Shut up," Logan snapped, tightening his grip on the bottle in his hand.
"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you admonished Wade.
Wade held his hands up in surrender, but he reached out to put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, my friend," he consoled before he approached you. He held his arms out as he walked towards you. "Come here, baby bird, and tell Papa Deadpool all about it," he said as he wrapped his arms around you.
"Get your hands off her," Logan growled, unsheathing his claws.
You brought a forcefield up between you and Wade. It was big enough to encompass his chest and abdomen and you used it to forcefully push him back. You slammed him into the wall, easing up, just to slam him into it again.
"Alright, alright," he coughed out, holding his hands up in surrender. "Don't piss off the Invisible Woman, got it," he conceded as you let your forcefield drop.
You rolled your eyes before crossing your arms over your chest. "That's not what they call me." The reminder of Johnny's sister brought up the worry you had for him. "Where the hell did you two come from?"
Wade did most of the talking and explained about the TVA, Cassandra, and their near-miss with Alioth.
"No one's ever made it out of Cassandra's clutches before," Elektra observed with something verging on respect in her tone.
"No one alive," Eric interjected with an unimpressed glare at Deadpool.
"Well, she is quite terrifying and a little grabby," Wade allowed with a nod of his head.
"One of ours has been missing for two days," you told Wade, carefully not looking at Logan. Logan had been watching you the whole time and you knew he was only mourning a ghost, but you hated how much you liked finally having Logan's undivided attention. "His name is Johnny. Did you see him?"
"The little flameball might've made an appearance, sure, but he's not with us," Wade explained with a flippant wave of his hand.
"Yeah, because you fucking got him killed with your big mouth," Logan snapped at Wade.
"Johnny's dead?" You asked, not wanting to believe it. You loved the others like family, but Johnny had practically been a brother to you. Sure, he let his mouth get him in trouble half the time, but he always managed to get himself out of it. "What the hell happened?"
"Cassandra decided she liked his insides on the outside," Wade answered, "because she's a megalomaniacal, psychotic asshole. Johnny’s words, not mine."
"Well, we've all been knowin' that," Remy said, idly shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. "But what're we gonna do about her, huh? She's got an army and we've just got us."
"Look, you've all been forgotten by your universes, but we can still take her if we team up. You got a Magneto here?" Wade questioned, hope in his voice that you knew was about to be crushed.
You moved to sit down at the table while you listened to the conversation carry on. There was a lot happening all at once and you didn’t know how to process any of it. Wade was desperate to get back to his own timeline, but Logan only seemed resigned. You didn't know how to accept the fact that Johnny was dead and you didn't know how to ignore the fact that Logan was still watching you.
When a plan was made to go after Cassandra and use Juggernaut's helmet to block her powers, you reluctantly agreed that it had some merit. If only because you wanted to get any type of revenge on Cassandra that you could to avenge Johnny.
The others were all on board and you knew most of them wanted nothing more than to bring Cassandra down as well. It was a suicide mission for most of you, but you figured if it meant stopping Cassandra and saving someone's universe, even if that someone was Wade Wilson, then it might be worth it.
"I'm in," you found yourself saying.
"Like hell you are," Logan cut in. "You'll just get yourself killed again and I can't--"
"I'm not dead," you pointed out, aware that the others were watching the pair of you. "I'm right here, because I'm not the one you lost."
"Well, I sure as hell don't want to go losing you again. You can't tell me you think this whackjob's plan is actually going to work out? He’s an idiot."
“Sticks and stones,” Wade muttered, rocking on his heels as he looked at Logan. “Sticks and stones.”
"You can do whatever you want," you told Logan, finally standing from your seat at the table. "But I'm going and if I die? Then at least I die doing something that's not just hiding and waiting for my inevitable end. At least I can help someone, even if it's a Deadpool," you said, gesturing towards Wade.
"Thanks?" Wade tried, sounding torn between flattered and insulted.
You didn't give Logan a chance to reply, because you left the room, opting to walk outside to get some distance from him.
Later, you heard from Remy that you were heading out first thing in the morning. You agreed to be ready by then and spent the rest of the evening invisible. You wanted to be alone, but you also hated the idea of losing one last opportunity to talk to Logan, even if he wasn't yours.
He was outside, staring into the fire he started, and steadily drinking Remy's liquor. You approached him as Laura was leaving his side. Even though you were still invisible, she seemed to know you were there, and walked around you.
You stayed a few feet behind him, watching him frown into the fire.
"I know you're there," Logan called out, turning to look over his shoulder. "You were never good at hiding from me."
You let yourself go visible before you continued to walk towards him. "My Logan didn't really give a shit about me, so I guess he knew where to find me, he just didn't care," you observed with a sigh. Having this Logan around was only showing you what you had missed out on in your universe with your Logan. You reached out to grab the bottle from Logan before taking a drink and handing it back. "You know, I wanted nothing more than for him to love me back. But I wasn't enough for him. And he knew, he knew everything I felt for him, but he never felt the same. I was just someone to warm his bed while his thoughts were with someone else."
Logan was quiet for a few moments before he held the bottle back out to you.
"You've made it clear you're not my wife," he started, keeping his gaze on the fire. "But I don't think you get that I'm not him. I see you and, God, I wish I could keep you safe. I wasn't able to save her. I wasn't able to save any of them and it's my fault my team, my family, my wife are all gone. I walked away and they died because of it," he admitted and you could see a tear begin to slip down his cheek. You had never seen your Logan so vulnerable and you didn't know what to do with this one. "I don't want to lose you again. I know you're not her, but I don't want to walk away and know that you died because of it."
"Then don't walk away," you whispered, moving until you were right beside him. You could feel the heat emanating off him and it sent a shiver down your spine. You had felt the chilling sense of isolation for so long that feeling Logan again felt like you were coming back to life.
"I know I wasn't happy to see you," you allowed with a grimace. "But since you got here, you've done nothing but remind me that I could have had what I wanted all along, but I was stuck in the wrong damn universe. And maybe it was possible for my Logan to love me all along and I just wasn't enough."
"Your Logan is a fucking idiot," he growled, finally looking at you. "You're here in this shithole because of him and you're ready to sacrifice yourself for someone you don't even know. He was the one who wasn't good enough. I guess I'm more like him than I would want to be."
You took a chance and reached out to grab Logan's hand. You were both grieving different people and you knew you weren't his wife, but you wanted to offer him comfort all the same. You also couldn't deny that the feeling of Logan's hand in yours felt like a balm for the pain you had been carrying around since falling into the Void.
His hand tightened around yours and you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders.
"You're enough, Logan," you assured him. "And I believe in you," you confessed. "You don't have to go tomorrow, but I'm going to be there. And if this is the last moment I ever get with you, then there's one thing I want to do."
Logan furrowed his brow in confusion before his expression smoothed out into surprise. You had leaned forward, just barely letting your lips brush his, waiting for him to either lean in or push you away.
You waited for a beat longer, sure you were making an idiot of yourself, before you felt Logan's hand at your hip. He pulled you closer, practically into his lap, as he returned the kiss. It was passionate and tender and in turns aggressive and searching. His tongue was twined around yours and his teeth were nipping at your lips and your head was beginning to spin from the rush. Logan let out a whimper and his hand clutched your hip tighter, and you knew you were going to have a bruise there by the next morning, but you didn’t mind that there would be a reminder of this moment.
You reluctantly pulled away, meeting his eyes and noticing how Logan looked like he was ready to drag you back into another kiss.
"Thank you," you whispered, reaching up a hand to brush your thumb over his bottom lip. You let it drag down briefly and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to it. Your Logan had been rough and demanding and uncaring, but the love and want this Logan had poured into the kiss had shown you what it would have been like for the love of your life to love you back. Maybe, with that memory, your death the next day would be a little sweeter.
"Y/N," Logan started, but didn't continue.
You offered him a sad smile and started to stand. "I should try to sleep. I've got a big day tomorrow."
You moved to leave, but Logan reached out and grabbed your hand. He reeled you back towards him, causing you to drop down into his lap, but he caught you by the hips. He wrapped his arms around your waist and trailed his hand up your back before it was resting against the back of your neck. He pulled you down into another kiss, this one just as intense, but less frenzied. Logan kept you in place with just the slightest pressure of his hand on your neck and you let him pour everything he had into it.
By the time you pulled away, you were breathless and speechless, reluctant to leave now that you had another taste of him.
"I'll see you in the morning," Logan promised, finally releasing you from his hold.
It took you while to shake off your daze, but then you realized what he was telling you.
You felt a smile tug at your lips before you got off his lap.
"See you in the morning," you agreed before leaving Logan in search of your bed.
The drive in the Honda Odyssey was cramped, but Wade insisted if it could house an all-night brawl between a Deadpool and a Wolverine, then it would hold the rest of you just fine all the way to Cassandra's lair. And then he started spouting off something about safety features and cup holders and you started to wonder if following his plan had been the dumbest thing you had ever done.
You found yourself sneaking glances at Logan at the rear of the car. He was watching you the whole time and every time your eyes met, a little spark of heat shot through you. Maybe he wasn't your Logan, but he had helped you begin to heal all the same. And now you were starting to fall for an entirely different Logan who was likely leaving the Void while you stayed behind and died to get him out.
Life had never been fair to you, but you hated that it was downright cruel to you as well.
By the time you were arriving at Cassandra’s, you were starting to wonder if there had ever been a happy ending for you in store or if it was just supposed to be one tragedy after another.
You lined up with the others as you faced down Cassandra's henchmen. You could see Azazel popping in and out of view and Psylocke trailing through the crowd. Juggernaut was staring down the group while Toad perched high above, a smirk on his face. There were dozens of them and you had no idea how you were going to pull it off, but even if you did die, at least it was to save someone's universe, even if it wasn't your own.
"You know how long I've been waiting for this? Ooohuee, I'm about to make a name for myself here," Remy boasted, eagerly bouncing on his feet while he began to charge a card.
"I don't think any of you walk away from this," Logan pointed out, sending a quick glance your way.
"You just make sure they know what happened here today," Remy continued, not seeming to care that he was staring death right in the face.
"We'll watch your six," Blade told Logan and Wade. "You get up there and we'll get you that helmet."
Before he could follow Wade, Logan turned to you and pulled you close. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one full of longing and grief. "I don't want to leave you," he murmured into the kiss.
You pulled back to meet his eyes, ignoring the fact that you felt like you were losing him all over again. "What you're fighting for is more important," you told him. "Maybe we'll meet again in another universe."
"Maybe," he agreed before kissing you again.
This one was brief, but it left you wanting more.
You watched Logan follow Wade before you were caught up in the fight between your friends and Cassandra's lackies.
The fight was terrifying, because the stakes were so high. You flickered in and out of visibility as needed and used your forcefields to protect your friends or attack your enemies. You used a forcefield to gather rocks and then propelled it into someone just to turn invisible to avoid someone's knife.
You were exhausted as the battle waged on and you knew that circumstances were beginning to look dire for you and your friends. Most of you were hurt and bleeding, and the fight was beginning to drain out of you.
You got distracted by Laura taking Juggernaut out and managing to get his helmet up to where Logan and Wade were no doubt dealing with Cassandra despite Psylocke intervening. You moved towards them, but you felt a searing pain in your side and you looked down to see the end of Azazel’s tail sticking through your flesh.
He jerked you back towards him and a blade sliced through his tail, freeing you. You were quick to form a forcefield around Azazel before he could escape and you began to press in on the sides, shrinking it down so he had nowhere to go. You could see him trying to teleport out, but it wasn’t working, and a look of panic flashed across his face.
You kept pressing in until his skin started to split and blood began to pour. All at once, you swept the sides in, watching as Azazel was crushed. You let the forcefield go and watched as his remains fell to the ground with a splat.
“You squashed him like a bug,” Eric observed with a nod of his head, cleaning Azazel’s blood off his blade. “Impressive.”
“Thanks,” you smiled at Blade, glancing down at the gash in your side.
“Keep your head,” he warned you just as someone rushed at you. You went invisible and stepped to the side, letting them impale themselves on Eric’s sword.
The battle took twists and turns, but after getting stabbed in the shoulder and nearly losing consciousness when someone hit you on the back of the head, you realized that the bodies were starting to drop, but your friends were still standing.
You figured your victory would be short-lived when the skies began to darken and Alioth showed on the horizon.
“He’s looking for a meal,” Elektra grunted, avoiding a hit to the side before using one of her twin sais to bring someone to their knees. She finished them off with a strike to their neck before she turned to look at the rest of you. “We need to get the hell out of here.”
You were distracted by a portal opening up in the air above you and you looked up in time to see Logan and Wade jumping through it.
Someone grabbed your arm and you instinctively moved to hit them, but you realized it was Elektra.
"Come on!" She yelled over the roar of Alioth and pulled you to cover inside Cassandra's lair.
"That was a close one," Remy said as he helped Blade into the makeshift shelter.
"But they got away," Laura pointed out with a small, satisfied smile.
"And we got to kill the fuckers that've been making our lives hell," Remy added with a grin. "Any of you see that one trick I pulled? I got the cards charged up and then guy went boom."
He looked so pleased with himself that you couldn’t stop the helpless little laugh you let out. The past few days had felt absurd and surreal, and you couldn’t even tell if it was all some fever dream. Maybe Remy had spiked his liquor to keep unsuspecting people out of it and you were currently back in the hideout, riding out one terrifying trip.
But when you twisted to the side, you felt like your side was splitting open all over again and you let out a gasp. Elektra knelt at your side, studying your wound with a frown.
"So, what happens now? Are we just stuck here until we know it's clear? We go back to our hideout and wait forever? Half of us need some kind of medical attention,” she pointed out, searching around her until she found a discarded jacket. She pressed it against your side and you let out a hiss of pain.
"Well, we didn't die, so at least there’s that," you offered with a shrug of your shoulders. "I figure we've earned some retirement. Even if we're still stuck here," you allowed with a wince as you pressed a hand to your shoulder. The wound was deep and still bleeding, but you figured you had suffered worse before. You were going to need stitches and painkillers and some more of Remy’s liquor, but at least you were still breathing.
You weren't sure how long you waited for the storm to pass, but by the time you got back outside, it was already dark. Most of the bodies were gone, consumed by Alioth, and you leaned into Elektra’s side as she helped you navigate the various body parts left behind.
"Think the car will make it back?" Remy wondered, surveying the Odyssey with its crushed sides and flat tires. It was practically drenched in blood and viscera, nearly indistinguishable as a vehicle.
"Why don't you start it up and see?" Eric prompted, looking at Gambit like he thought he was a special kind of stupid. “Maybe we can ride one of your little cards back to the hideout. How far can you throw them?”
"That won't be necessary," a voice interrupted, startling you.
A portal had opened up to your left and a woman had walked through it. She had soldiers behind her who were wearing uniforms with a TVA logo stamped on the right arm.
"Wade Wilson struck a deal for all of you," the woman continued, surveying the group. "It's time for all of you to go home."
“Home?” Remy repeated with a skeptical look at the rest of you. “What if we don’t have a home?”
“Then wherever you’d like to be,” she amended. “With conditions, of course.”
It turned out that Wade and Logan not only saved Wade's universe, but every universe. Cassandra had wanted nothing to exist except for the Void where she reigned and both of them had managed to stop her.
You never considered that your fight with Cassandra’s minions wound end with anything except for your death. You certainly never thought you would have the option to leave the Void.
You definitely didn't want to return home, so you asked if you could stay in Wade's universe. Logan and Laura had opted to stay as well and since your variant had never been born in Wade’s universe, you were welcome to stay. It felt like you were getting the opportunity to carve out the kind of life you wanted all along. One where you knew you would be welcome and wanted without fearing that you would be abandoned for someone else.
Now, you were sitting around a table with Wade's family and the beginnings of a new one for you. Laura was sitting to your left and Logan to your right and you couldn't help but feel like this was where you had belonged all along.
Logan had admitted that he wasn't allowed to try to save the people in his universe, but he wanted to be whatever you needed or wanted him to be in your new one. You knew that was a daunting order for someone like Logan, so you settled for telling him that you wanted to start at the beginning.
You wanted to get to know this Logan, because even though you already loved him, you knew that you wanted a clean slate. One where you weren’t comparing him to your universe’s Logan and one where you gave him every opportunity to show you that he was better. You also didn’t want him to just see the ghost of his wife in you, so you wanted him to get to know you.
You soaked up the love and laughter that flowed through the room and met Logan's gaze. You weren't even surprised to see that he was already watching you. You reached out to grab his hand, delighting in the way he immediately welcomed your touch.
You no longer felt forgotten and hopeless. Everything you had yearned for, fought for, in your old life had quite literally dropped right into your new one and you couldn't have been more grateful for another shot at happiness.
From the way Logan smiled at you and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it, you knew he was just as appreciative at the opportunity to turn his life back around.
"Thank you," you whispered to him, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.
"Nothing to thank me for," he answered before dropping another kiss on the crowd of your head.
You wanted to argue with him and tell him that he had saved you, but you figured you would tell him later. For now, you were going to enjoy the feeling of belonging you felt and look forward to the fact that there would be a later with Logan.
Edited To Add: I am writing a sequel! It's going to involve Cable (even though he didn't test well) and Logan getting payback on reader's original Wolverine on her behalf and a whole bunch of other fun surprises!! If you want to be tagged, just let me know!
The sequel is HERE for anyone interested!
This is now a whole series! Main post for the series is HERE.
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zepskies · 2 months
Text
Lost on You - Part 1
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader
Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.
AN: Welcome to Part 1! You guys have really warmed by heart with all the anticipation for this series, so thank you so much. I think it's going to be a fun ride. 😉
Song Inspo: “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John. And check out the full “Lost on You Playlist” here. There’s going to be lots of ‘80s music in this series!
Word Count: 4K
Tags/Warnings: SB being an entitled asshole (strap in for a lot of that), misogyny, bullying, and a “meet cute” of sorts…
🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist
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Part 1: Siren Song
April 3, 1983
“Why the fuck wasn’t I consulted about this?” Soldier Boy groused.
Arthur Cohen, otherwise known as “The Legend,” released a heavy puff of his cigar within the relative privacy of his office. Vought afforded him a great deal of luxuries, at the cost of days like this.
So, he’d offered the supe one of his most coveted Cubans to pacify him. Because true to form, he was edging closer to a temper tantrum by the minute.
“This decision came from on high, my friend,” Arthur said, with a smile that hid his inner anxiousness. He tapped some ash off his cigar with a finger adorned by a gaudy gold ring. “Stan Edgar, Stillwell, even the entire board of directors signed off on this one.”
“I don’t give a fuck who bought into this PR bullshit,” Soldier Boy postured, crossing his arms across his dark green supe suit as he leaned into the plush seat adjacent to Arthur’s desk. He raised a solid boot on the edge of the newly polished mahogany, and then another, crossing them at the ankles. His cigar was balanced between his teeth in the corner of his mouth.
“The last thing we need,” he said, pausing to inhale. Then he took the cigar from his lips to blow out smoke in hot annoyance. “Is another broad on the team.”
Arthur inclined his head. “I understand your concerns.”
“Do you?” Soldier Boy snorted. “Countess is bitch enough to deal with, believe you me.”
Arthur sympathized. He knew Crimson Countess’s attitude well, but he supposed Soldier Boy had license to say so more than anyone else, considering she was his girlfriend.  
“Look, I could give you the numbers: expected profit margins, demographics, etcetera, but you don’t get paid to hear that from me,” Arthur said, with a magnanimous hand gesture and a fair bit of old Jewish charm. “I’m askin’ you to trust me. This girl’s good, okay? Not just a wig and a pair a’ tits. Nah, she’s got talent. Got a set of pipes on her too, my God.”
Soldier Boy gave him a sly look. 
“Not like that,” Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement, but not with the face of a man who hadn’t already thought about the girl’s pretty mouth. He stroked his chin.
“She’s…interesting. Well, you’ll see. If she brings up the ratings the way we hope, we’ll be able to relocate Swatto. Hopefully to Siberia. He’s a fucking PR nightmare waiting to happen.”
“All right, the guy’s a moron, but he’s fucking hilarious,” Soldier Boy said, smirking. “Like one of the three Stooges.”
Yeah. Arthur wondered if that homeless man Swatto almost split open in Central Park after a sneeze thought he was funny. 
“And her powers. Really?” Soldier Boy went on. His brows drew together then, as he frowned. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”
“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.
But he could see that Soldier Boy wasn’t convinced. The supe rolled his eyes and released another puff.
“Anyway. I’m fucking bored. What’s the next project?” he said. Arthur took an unfiltered breath and peeked at the files strewn across his desk.
“Well, Red Thunder is coming out this fall. We’re pretty sure it’s gonna be the blockbuster of the year,” he replied. “After that, we’ll see about writing a sequel.”
If it makes back the millions we spent in production going over budget, thanks to this asshole’s weekly benders, he mentally added.
“I don’t care about a bullshit sequel,” Soldier Boy said dismissively. “I want to do something new.”
“Something new,” Arthur intoned.
The supe raised a brow. Again, the cigar was balanced between his teeth.
“Yeah.”
He really must be bored, Arthur thought, if he actually wants to work.
“All right, let me brainstorm on that for ya,” Arthur said. “Matter of fact, tell you what. Give me ‘til the end of the week. In the meantime, we’ve got the security team monitoring the police scanner for potential saves.”
The supe didn’t look impressed. His brows furrowed, as if he was irritated that he didn’t get an immediate answer, but his slight nod signaled his agreement before he finally got up from his chair. His boots dragged off Arthur’s desk, knocking over a framed picture of his kids with it, and thudded heavily on the ground. He left the office thereafter.
Arthur heaved a breath of exasperation. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit. 
Fucking supes.
But he didn’t dare utter that thought out loud.
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It was days before Ben finally crossed paths with the new girl. Not that he’d been giving the idea much thought.
After that day in Arthur’s office, Ben became engrossed in his own devices—namely one of the assistants, Joanna, his stylist, Angela, and Rachel, his maid, after Donna blew him off for dinner for the third night in a row. This time for some tree-hugging conservationist gala of some kind. 
Frigid bitch, he thought, shaking his head. 
On his way to the gym, he passed the T&T Twins gossiping. Just the sight of them irritated him. Tommy was a kiss-ass, and Tessa shared a brain cell with her brother, so she wasn’t saying much for her gender either. 
“Would you pick your tongue off the floor already! You’re so disgusting,” Tessa said, shoving her brother.
“What? She’s fucking hot,” Tommy snapped in defense. When they finally saw Ben coming, Tessa piped down with her attempt at a “demure” greeting.
Tommy came in hot with a too bright voice and a, “Hey, boss!”
Ben gave them a stoic nod, fully intending to blow past them.
“Have you met the new girl yet?” Tommy asked, with an unmistakable pop of his brows and indecent smile.
Ben nearly rolled his eyes. “No.”
And don’t fucking care, his tone conveyed. He continued on his way to the gym. Behind him, the twins gave each other a look, and a shrug.
When he got to the gym, Journey was playing overhead. Ben frowned as he saw Black Noir working out by himself. The young man wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was bare-chested and running on a treadmill with a nearly 90-degree incline, sweat glistening on his skin. 
Fucking show off, Ben thought. 
Then there was Gunpowder, his young sidekick, practicing his archery. Ben went to him and slapped a hand on his back in greeting, none too gently. The teen stumbled, his arrow landing into the wall instead of the target. 
“Spot me at the bench, ey kid,” said Ben. “And grab me a towel while you’re at it.”
“Uh, sure,” Gunpowder replied, ducking his head as he went. Ben got settled at his usual bench press machine, sliding his back down the thin leather cushion. He waited for the kid to add on his fifty-pound weights on either side, until it reached two hundred pounds. That was just the warm-up. 
“You met the new girl yet?” Ben asked, after he began lifting his first rep. Gunpowder stood behind his head.  
“No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t seen her yet.”
“I haven’t either,” said Noir. He’d come over on his way to the showers, regaining his breath all the while. Ben gave him a sharp side-eye.
“Did I fucking ask you?” he said. 
Noir paused. He hid his frown behind a stoic front, since he didn’t have his mask to do it for him. He toweled off his face and chest as he left the gym. 
Ben shook his head, but he never broke stride on the bench press. 
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You seemed to be mysterious. 
Barely anyone had seen you, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to ingratiate yourself with every member of the team, like Ben would’ve expected. Donna had set him in her sights on her very first day.
With fake demure in her hazel eyes, a flick of her long red hair over her shoulder, and a sultry smile, she’d let him take her hand and bring it up to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss. 
That same night, she’d accepted his invitation up to his suite and let him do some very ungentlemanly things. Ben smirked at the memory as he made his way down Vought Tower’s infinite hallways. She sure knew her way around some kinky shit.  
And she still did, the little minx. She’d just been putting the freeze on his balls lately, for whatever her reasons were this time. He didn’t pretend to care or keep track at this point. 
If people only knew what a royal pain Crimson Countess was.
Ben was only taken out of his thoughts when he heard someone singing in the breakroom, gently, but beautifully. He couldn’t make out the words though. He stopped and leaned inside the doorway, just to see who it was. It was early enough in the morning that he was surprised anyone but him was awake.
You were standing there at the counter, making some coffee from the percolator. Soft and dulcet notes fell from your lips in some kind of lullaby. Quirking a brow, the oddness of it managed to draw Ben’s steps into the kitchen. You were wearing a leather supe suit that molded to your every curve, not unlike Donna’s, except yours was black with violet trim lines.
You eventually noticed him with a smile.
“Good morning, sir.”
Ben gave you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from breast to toe before he noted that the coffee had finished percolating. 
"Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “Pour me a cup, would ya?" 
You did so, and he admired the graceful movements of your hands, and the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself. 
"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asked, taking the plain white coffee mug from you. 
When your hand brushed his, he felt it.
Your power.
It threatened to overtake him, drawing you into him like the crash and current of a tidal wave, where he couldn’t help but be pulled undertow. There in that darkness, he craved your warmth as well as your body. The thought, the need gripped him at his core… 
He wanted you to devour him, body and soul.
And he finally registered that your eyes were glowing violet, along with your knowing smile. 
Then you blinked. The violet haze was gone, along with your hold on his mind. 
You went back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened. Ben faltered, mentally and physically as he was forced to grip the counter. He even had to catch his breath as his mind reeled from the loss of connection. 
He covered his unbalance with a steely, angry frown. What the fuck just fucking happened?
He looked at you harder than before, drawing himself to his full height and towering over you. Still, you didn’t seem all that intimidated.
“What the hell did you just do?” he growled.
Your knowing, easy smile remained. 
“Nothing,” you replied. “Just a little smoke.”
Ben’s eyes widened.
“Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”
How the hell had you heard about that?
He quirked a brow, but you just sipped your coffee with a gentle slurp. Your gaze moved away from him as you went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs.
“Want some breakfast? I’m thinking of making some eggs, sunny side up,” you said.
Ben’s hand clenched at his side, but then, he forced himself to relax. Or at least, to look relaxed. You had some fucking audacity to try toying with him…but he had to admit, you were something new.
Interesting.
“What’s your name?” he asked, in a tone that demanded.
“Sirena,” you answered. Your superhero name, which he’d already known when Stan Edgar told him about you a week ago.
Ben’s frown deepened, but he reminded himself to retain some charm. He took your chin between his fingers. His grip was light, but his green eyes were intense, and focused on you. 
“No. Your real name, sweetheart,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
You blinked, but you obliged him with your name, and a smile that edged at flirtation.
“What’s yours?” you returned.
He had to smirk. He knew you knew full well who he was.
“Call me Ben,” he said.
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Three Days Ago…
You tried not to be completely overwhelmed by the sight of this huge tower as you pulled your suitcase behind you. Vought-American was an institution of superhero production, and Payback was the face of it all. The absolute pinnacle.
I still can’t believe they chose me, you thought, but you tried not to let that show. You needed to make it seem like you knew what you were doing. You belonged here, and you were seizing this chance.
Madelyn Stillwell, the head of Superhero Public Relations, personally greeted you at the gate and showed you up to your room. However, you’d barely gotten a chance to step inside and look around before her pager went off. She wore a certain smile when she saw the number on the screen. She tossed a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and glanced up at you.
“Sorry, sweetie. I have an appointment to get to, but the directory is there on your desk if you need anything. Feel free to get comfortable,” she said, gesturing at you with her pager in hand. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you a tour of the building.”
“Okay, thank you so—”
The door closed behind her before you could even finish your sentence. That deflated you a little, but you tried not to let that small exchange bring you down. Your apartment was huge. Or at least, it was much bigger than the shoebox you left in the Village, let alone the Brooklyn brownstone you grew up in, sharing with two other families on each floor.
You hefted your suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack your clothes, makeup, and toiletries. 
You also took out the only framed picture you had—one that housed your parents and your older brother Chris. You were both grown already, but in this picture, you were barely twelve years old. That little girl didn’t know that her entire world was about to change, when her powers manifested for the first time. 
That thought did succeed in dimming your mood for a moment, but you sighed and set the frame down on your new dresser. You’d have to remember to call Chris. His son was turning four years old in a few weeks. 
Though your attention shifted to a black shape in the corner of your eye. It was a garment bag hanging on the closet door. You went over and unzipped it, revealing your new super suit. It was all black leather and violet accent lines down the sides, along the collar, and down between the breasts in a V-shape. It was strategic to accentuate curves and bust. 
You whistled lowly. It was beautiful, but Jesus did it look tight. 
“Wow,” you remarked, trying out the zipper up and down. “They really like their leather, huh?”
Still, you itched to try it on. After a few minutes of struggling and wiggling, you managed to get into the suit. They’d taken exact measurements, so it did look good. You felt like a new person…a superhero.
You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. But then, you forced the smile off your face and shook your head, schooling your expression into something less doe-eyed and pathetic. More in control.
There you are, Sirena, you thought. You had long ago trained yourself with that enigmatic look. You knew how it felt on your face. The easiest way for you to get what you wanted in this world, the way you’d gotten this far, was with this exact face.
Only show them what you want them to see.   
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Almost two hours later, you’d finished unpacking your belongings and explored every corner of your new beautiful apartment, but still, Miss Stillwell wasn’t back yet.
You checked your watch and hummed to yourself. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to leave your apartment and explore the tower by yourself. You took off the suit as well, so you could make your way around more anonymously. You were sure no one really knew who you were yet. 
Your theory was proven true when you walked through the halls, passing Vought employees without even a blink in your direction. That was okay though. Soon enough, all these people would know your face, as well as your name. 
You reached one of the top floors, where you thought you remembered The Legend’s office was supposed to be (according to the directory). Maybe you could meet him and get a jump start on your schedule.
You stopped short, however, when an office door slid open. Out came a slightly disheveled Miss Stillwell. Her blouse was hastily tucked into her gray pencil skirt, and strands of her blonde hair were a bit frizzy as they brushed her shoulders, as if she’d combed them down with her fingers. You plastered yourself to a wall around the corner, only peeking around after she passed by.
Your brows popped up incredulously when you read the name plate beside the door she just came out of.
Stan Edgar…holy shit. His signature was on my contract!
Along with Arthur Cohen, or The Legend, as Stillwell had told you when she welcomed you in. He was the Senior Vice President of Hero Management, so who the hell was Stan?
Well, whoever he was, he was giving it to the head of PR.
Okay then. You shook your head and continued on your way. At the end of the hall, you finally found the right office. You were about to open the door, when you heard male voices coming from inside—one older and dry, and the other deep and strong.
You reached out with your awareness and allowed your powers to engage, likely making your eyes glow with a violet hue.
Sure enough, you sensed two men in the room. And as the voices raised, you recognized one of them. It was unmistakable; you’d been taking the time to binge all of his movies for the past month, ever since you auditioned to get into Payback.
Soldier Boy. 
A smile spread across your face. For a moment, you were incredibly excited…until you actually heard what he was saying.
“The last thing we need is another broad on the team.”
Your mouth fell open in shock as your brows drew together. You carefully pressed yourself to the door and kept listening.
“And her powers. Really?” he said. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”
“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.
You glared at the door furiously, as if you could burn lasers out of your eyes. You crossed your arms, but you breathed evenly as you strived to keep your emotions contained. 
Control, you reminded yourself. With another deep breath, you managed to let go of your ire, but the more you listened to the conversation, the more impossible that became. You turned away from the door and made clipped strides down the hall.
You knew you had to tread carefully here. You’d heard some of the real stories about Payback, because you’d taken the time to listen. You weren’t about to enter Vought Tower without having some idea of what you were getting into, and you knew you’d have to prove yourself as the rookie on the team. You just hadn’t expected their leader to be such a chauvinistic asshole. 
Though inwardly, you snorted. Well, the guy is from the ‘40s. Best generation, indeed.
You rolled your shoulders and shook it away, like water off your proverbial feathers. Your mouth set in a firm line as you held your head high.
The game begins, you thought.
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For the next few days, you watched. You studied each member of your new “team” as you encountered them, and you quickly realized that this team wasn’t much of one. 
They looked out for themselves, and bickered amongst themselves, in the case of the TNT Twins. Crimson Countess had given you a lovely, polite face that still somehow mocked you when she walked away, along with the bounce of her red hair. 
Your powers didn’t allow you to sense or read women, but you recognized a diva when you saw one.
Clearly, she was used to being the woman on top, especially as Soldier Boy’s girlfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought. From what you’d heard (and the masculine cologne you smelled on Arthur’s assistant Joanna yesterday), Soldier Boy got around. His relationship with Countess was either very open, or it was well-crafted PR.
You had another growing, unsettling thought. The more information you gathered just by observing the team, the more you had a hard time believing that you were ever going to fit in around here. 
It was only your third day in the Tower though, you reminded yourself, as you got dressed for the day in your suit. That kind of negativity wouldn’t serve you here. 
So you left your apartment in search of coffee and breakfast at the breakroom and lounge area, exclusive to the team. You supposed these guys were either late sleepers, or they got their food brought to them. You were relieved to find the room empty, and you let out a deep breath.
Remember why you’re here, you thought. It’s not about you. 
It had never been about you. 
You rummaged through the cupboards in search of the one thing that would perk you up—good coffee. You found it near the top shelf and began to prep the coffee maker. You hummed to yourself while your hands moved on autopilot. The tune strengthened, deepening and then sweetening on higher trills. 
Suddenly, your spine prickled. Your mind buzzed faintly with awareness as you sensed a presence.
It was familiar and overwhelmingly male, with heavy, confident steps coming down the hall. You tilted your head and frowned. 
Soldier Boy, that asshole. 
But then, your lips curved upwards. This could be fun. 
When Soldier Boy walked into the breakroom, he noticed you. You pretended not to realize he was there, but you felt the heat of his gaze roaming over your body. You wanted to sigh. Predictable.
Right then, you made a quiet, firm decision. Today, this man was going to learn your name. And he wasn’t going to forget it. 
You turned to him with a smile when he approached—the most pleasant one you could manage.
“Good morning, sir.”
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AN: Game, set, match. 😘💚 As many of you know, this story is expanding on this Soldier Boy imagine, which I wrote almost a year ago now. In the back of my mind though, I always thought this idea could be more someday.
So please let me know what you thought of Part 1! I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming up next...
Next Time:
“Countess, I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”
“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”   
You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.
“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”
The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2
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imfinereallyy · 5 months
Text
I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2
pt. 1 pt. 3
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.
He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.
Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.
Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.
Little shit.
Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.
Looking at you, Lucas.
Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.
Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.
Until he did, with Eddie.
Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.
Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.
Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.
"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.
Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"
"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.
Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.
She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.
Fuck, he loved her.
"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.
Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.
"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.
"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.
Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.
"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."
It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.
Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.
Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"
Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"
Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."
Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."
Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.
Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."
Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."
Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"
"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."
"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.
Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.
"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."
Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.
Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.
Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.
Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.
"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.
"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."
Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"
"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.
Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."
Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."
The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."
Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."
Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"
It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."
"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.
Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.
Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.
tag list!:
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bloatedandalone04 · 11 months
Text
The Only Reason
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➪the one where leon finally gives you some much needed closure after four months of feeling nothing but regret from what he did.
Warnings: angst, fluff, making out, swearing, mentions of cheating, cheating, toxic relationships, mentions of a bad past, mentions of weight loss, all the ada slander in the world because i actually cannot stand her, mentions of unwanted sexual attention (from ada to leon), unwanted intimacy (from ada to leon), eating disorders (implied)
Word Count: 5.2k | Part 1
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
The loud music and thumping of the walls were the last thing on Leon’s mind as he scanned every single room of the house. Chris decided to throw a housewarming party for Claire at her new place, and of course Leon was invited. 
Leon refused the initial invitation, but quickly changed his mind when Chris told him that you would be there. It seemed as though the brunet had long since grown sick of his friend’s moping and knew he had to do something about it. 
Pretty much everyone that Leon knew was here, yet he couldn’t seem to find you. The house wasn’t big, and it didn’t have very many rooms, but it seemed like it was still impossible to locate you. Not that he even had a right to. 
If he does manage to find you, what would he even say? “I’m sorry for everything, and for letting you leave without trying to fight for you. Also, I don’t blame you for ignoring my calls and not texting me back, I deserve that.”
He couldn’t remember the last time he sounded that desperate. Back when he was a dumb twenty one year old, he supposed. 
Leon has been here for over an hour now, and he still hasn’t seen you once. He was beginning to think that Chris lied to him just to get him out of the house he used to share with you. While he wouldn’t put it past him, Leon wanted to give Chris the benefit of the doubt and believe that he had good intentions when he invited him to this thing. 
Nearly giving up on his search, Leon heads back to the kitchen, where Jill hands him a bottle of beer. She leans against the counter and he does the same, his eyes still expertly scanning the room, just in case.  “Hey, Kennedy,” she greets as she sips on her own beer. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Been busy with work?”
Leon shrugs, his face almost emotionless. “Yeah,” he lied. Of course he had been going to work and successfully completing missions, but he hadn’t left the house outside of that. Work usually took up a good portion of his time, and the rest of it was spent thinking about how badly he fucked things up with you. 
It wasn’t even worth it. Ada. 
He hadn’t seen her since he broke off their little agreement a month before he confessed to you, despite her texting him and asking to meet up so he can fuck her in exchange for information he thought was worth more than you. 
It really wasn’t. 
He’s been ignoring her texts for months now, just like how you’ve been ignoring his. 
Leon had never blocked someone’s number ever in his life, but Ada was about to be the first if she didn’t take the hint and leave him the fuck alone. 
As much as he wanted to put all the blame on her, he knew it was half his own fault, as well. He couldn’t believe he had gone back to Ada Wong when he had you, his entire world, waiting for him at home. 
He knew he would never forgive himself, even if you somehow managed to move on and forgive him for the worst mistake he had ever made in his twenty nine years of living. 
Four months. 
It’s been four months and he was still beating himself up for what he did to you. 
“Yeah, Chris and I are looking into this new virus that is spreading down in Oxford. The cases have been going up daily, might be something you can help out with,” she offered, leaning closer to him so he could hear her better over the loud music. “You’re more experienced with viruses than anyone else I know.”
Leon gave her a tight lipped smile. “Sure, Jill,” he replied. “Whatever you need.”
“Great,” she says as she finishes off her beer. “You staying long? I never took you as the party type.”
He really wasn’t. He hadn’t been to a party since he was nineteen. Even the frat parties he was invited to were boring, so he never had the urge to go to anymore after the age of twenty. Until now, because he was told that you would be here. 
And he wanted to see you so badly. 
“I’m not, really,” he agreed and brought the bottle up to his mouth. “I just thought someone I know would be here-”
He wasn’t able to take a sip of the alcohol before his eyes landed on you as soon as you entered the room. 
All words had died on his tongue and the bottle was raised half way before his hand froze. 
You looked beautiful. Your cute white dress fit you well and showed off the concerning amount of weight you had lost. He hadn’t seen you that small since the beginning of your relationship, back when you didn’t know how to take care of yourself and listen to your body’s warnings. 
Leon felt his heart constrict at the thought of you going back to your old ways of ignoring the signs your body tried giving you. You were barely getting by when he met you, and you hadn’t gone completely back to that since leaving him, if your makeup and pretty hair were anything to go by. 
You hadn’t given up on yourself entirely, and that gave him enough hope that you would be okay. Even if he was given the chance to talk to you and explain things, he knew you weren’t completely broken like you were when you first started dating, and that you would be fine if you decided to never forgive him. 
Looking as shy as ever, you inch further into the room, seeming to have not noticed Leon yet as you ventured over to the bottles of booze that had been set out on the counter. “Oh, shit, is that Y/n?” Jill asked as she squinted in your direction. “I didn’t know she was coming, but that pretty much explains why you’re here. Are you okay?” 
Leon watched as you browsed through the drink options, dropping his arm back to his side and not caring about the beer that splashed onto his hand at the quick movement. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he slowly shook his head, a quiet “No,” leaving his mouth afterwards. 
Jill looked between the two of you, unsure of what to say. “Do you want to move to another room?”
Leon shook his head again. “No. You said it yourself, Jill. This is why I’m here,” he muttered and watched as a younger guy moved to stand next to you. He helped you pour a large amount of vodka mixed with ginger ale into a cup, and he quickly recognized the guy as one of the new agents Claire had befriended named Kegan. 
Kegan stepped closer to you and Leon could instantly tell that you were uncomfortable. He knew you like the back of his hand and could tell when you got nervous or anxious, like how you are right now. 
Leon stood up straight and placed the untouched bottle of beer behind him on the counter before making his way across the kitchen. 
Within four strides he is behind you and towering over Kegan, who noticed Leon long before you did. “Kennedy? Leon Kennedy is actually at a party? Wow, never thought I’d see the day,” 
Leon glared at him and it was then when you realized who was standing behind you. “You don’t know me,” Leon stated as you turned to face him, but he just kept his eyes on Kegan. Leon had quite the reputation at work, and he was well known as the guy who is more than capable of completing any mission, no matter how tough it may be. 
That being said, his superiority often annoyed the new guys as they tried to live up to the high expectations and standards of Leon Kennedy. 
“And you don’t know her, but I do, and I know she wants you to leave her alone but is far too nice to actually say that to you, so I’ll do it for her,” Leon continued and felt his heart skip a beat at the quiet gasp that left your lips. 
Kegan looked between you and Leon, and more specifically the protective look in his eyes, before backing away with his hands up. “My bad, man,” he shrugged. “Didn’t realize she was with you.”
He disappeared in the crowd as you turned completely to face your ex. “You didn’t need to do that,” you muttered and Leon could feel his face heat up at the fact that you were actually talking to him. You wore an annoyed look, but still, you’re talking to him. “I could’ve done that myself.”
Leon forced a grin to form on his lips. “But I bet you’re glad I did it, instead,” when you just shook your head and began to leave the kitchen, Leon stepped in front of you, refraining from grabbing your hand like he so desperately wanted to. “Wait, please.”
“What, Leon?” You asked and you sounded so exhausted, it made his heart physically break a bit. “What could you possibly have to say to me right now?”
“Everything,” he answered instantly. “I want to say everything I didn’t say the day you left. Please, give me a chance.”
You narrow your eyes and cross your arms. “It’s been months, Leon,” 
“Four,” he confirmed, watching the brief shock that flashed across your face. “And I’ve thought about you everyday for every one.”  
You give him a conflicted look that is quickly followed by a sigh. “There is nothing you can say that will fix what happened, just so you know,” 
Leon nodded and held his hand out to you, surprise filling him when you actually took it. “I just need you to know that it wasn’t your fault, and that it’s all on me,” he promised as he led you towards the front door, missing Chris’ look of relief as he passed him.
While he didn’t know the full story of what his friend did to you, he knew Ada had been involved in the reason you were no longer together. Chris was never a fan of Ada and how she treated Leon whenever the two crossed paths, and he was sure the blond felt the same way after being her little pet for years. He was sure the two of you would end up getting married, so he could not fathom how the fuck Leon had let Ada get in the way of what you and he had. 
All in all, he was sick of Leon’s bad moods, and wanted his friend to go back to normal. Well, as normal as Leon Kennedy could be. 
Leon led you out onto the front porch, and with one look from him, the two guys who were standing out there quickly scampered back into the house. Once you were alone, he turned back to face you with guilty eyes, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say to you. 
He had wanted the chance to talk to you again for months, and now that you are actually here in front of him he was blanking. 
But he wouldn’t let his inability to form a proper sentence be what cost him his once chance at explaining to you why he did what he did.
An apology would be a good place to start, right?
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly as he finally allowed himself to look into your guarded eyes. You looked at him as if he were a stranger, and he supposed he kind of is now. The person you both thought he was would’ve never done what he did to you, no matter how important those fucking files were. “I’m a fucking idiot.”
You nod and lean back against the railing, crossing your arms as you stare at him with a soft glare. “I’m really glad we agree on that,”
He knew he deserved that. He deserved worse, actually, but you were simply too kind to completely go off on him, and he simply never deserved you in the first place. “That’s fair, you’re being hostile,” he mumbled and felt his skin begin to heat up under his dark leather jacket. “I know I have no right to even be talking to you right now, but I just need you to know that what I did with Ada was the worst thing I have ever done, and I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life. None of them cost me you, though, so they’re not very high on that list.” 
You tense up at the name you’ve hated since the second you heard it, and the mention of her sent your insecurities right back to the front of your mind. “Yeah, well,” you trail off, kicking a stone that was on the porch away from you as you avoid his stare. “I hope she was worth it, because I haven’t been able to wrap my head around the fact that Ada fucking Wong is the reason the best relationship I had ever been in ended.”
“She wasn’t worth it,” he said instantly, taking a cautious step towards you. “She was never worth it, even back when I was a stupid twenty one year old and trying to start my career. She never cared, and I wasn’t smart enough to see that. I’m not smart at all. If I had half a brain I would’ve never gone back to her ever again.” 
You shake your head. “You can say that now, but it doesn’t change anything,” you mumbled. “You cheated on me with the one person I’ve been worried about since day one. You promised me that she was in your past, and that you were over her. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe that. Guess we’re both fucking dumb.”
“No,” he said sternly. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Ada hasn’t had control over my heart for a long time now, it’s always been you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we met, and that was years ago. I know I fucked up, but I’ve never stopped believing that you’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else, and that was clear after I met you.”
Your lip was quivering just slightly and you blinked back tears, trying to stick to your promise of never crying over the man in front of you ever again. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep that promise if you were to continue to talk to him. “Then why did you do it? Why did you ruin what we had?” You regretfully ask and quickly add, “And I want the truth, not some bullshit story you always seem to come up with. Be honest with me, Leon.”
Leon really felt pathetic at this point as he felt his heart jump a bit at the fact that you said his name. He missed you so much, he missed hearing your voice, and he missed the way his name sounded when it came out of your mouth. 
He knew his answer wouldn’t satisfy you at all, but he said it anyway, “It was just about work,”
“Oh, don’t give me that,” you say angrily, wiping under your eyes before he could see your tears. “Don’t waste anymore of my time, Leon. I refuse to spend another second with you if you’re just going to lie to me. You’ve done that enough.”
Leon shut up after that, shifting from one foot to the other and beginning to feel anxious. He shouldn’t feel this way around you. He had known you for four years and been with you for three, he should feel comfortable around you, but he supposed he lost that right, too. 
At his lack of words, you turn away and are about to head back inside when he grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the door. “Y/n, wait,” he begs, blue eyes clouding over with desperation as he stares hopelessly down at you. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. There are no words that could ever describe it. I hate that I hurt you and I hate that I fucked up the best thing I had going for me. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
You fell silent as your eyes flickered from his lips then back to his eyes. 
What if….for just one more night…what if.
“I should’ve never let you walk out that day without explaining to you that it was all my fault, just like how I should’ve never let Ada come anywhere near me. But I’m weak,” he was saying all the words he should have said to you the day he confessed that he had been seeing Ada. God, even her name made a feeling of disgust creep into his bones. “I’ve always been weak when it comes to you and my job and everything. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing, but you made me feel like I was. I can’t believe I took that for granted.” 
Your eyes burned once again and you moved to lean back against the railing when he inched closer.
“You’re everything to me, sweetheart,” he sounded so genuine, you almost thought you could believe him. He placed his hands on the railing behind you and leaned down so his face was close to yours. “You always will be. She is, by far, the biggest mistake of my life and I promise that I haven’t seen her since. I can’t stand even thinking about her-”
He wasn’t able to finish that sentence as you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.
Just one more night. 
You just needed one more night with him, one where you could pretend you were still happy and still in love. One where you were still oblivious to the affair he was having with his ex…or whatever the fuck they were. 
Just one more night to fuck him out of your system, then you’ll never have to see him again after this. 
Leon got lost in the feeling of having your lips on his for the first time in months. His hands immediately grip your waist and his body presses right up against your own. 
He missed you more than anything else in the entire world. Every single inch of you, he craved it everyday. He was so fucking angry with himself for how he destroyed your relationship and for how he hurt you after he swore he wouldn’t. After he swore he was different. 
Really, he wasn’t far off from the assholes you had given your heart to in the past, even though he tried so hard to be. 
His fingers bunch up the fabric of your dress and he wanted to take you right there, right against the railing of his friend’s new porch, but you deserved more than that. He wanted to give you more than that. 
Your hands slide up to tangle in his hair and he never thought he’d ever get to feel your soft yet firm touch again. He couldn’t help but melt into it. 
Your lower back pressed against the cool metal and the contrast of it had you gasping against his mouth. 
Leon groaned at your quiet sound of pleasure and couldn’t deny how it went straight to his dick. Sometimes he really hated being a man who had no control over that part of his body. “Missed that sound,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Missed everything about you, pretty girl.” 
You moan into his mouth and he swallows it like the greedy man he is. “Take me home, Leon,”
It was like a switch had been flipped. He pulled away but kept his hands on your hips. Now that he had gotten a taste of you again, he never wanted to let you go. But he needed to focus on why he sought you out tonight. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he trails off, noting the brief look of embarrassment that flashed in your eyes. “I don’t want you to think that this is all I wanted out of-”
“I want it, Leon,” you cut him off, pulling him closer by his jacket. “I want you. I know you don’t want me anymore, but-”
He shook his head and pressed another kiss to your lips, against his better judgment. “I do still want you, baby,” he promised. “I want you, always.”
You bite down on your lip and don’t miss the way his eyes flicker downwards when you do so. “Then take me home,” you pressed, watching as he seems to have an inner battle with himself. 
You weren’t sure what result you wanted out of this; him agreeing and getting you off one last time, or him rejecting you of what he so gladly took from Ada. 
 Either way would provide you with some closure, you’d hope. 
A few more seconds pass before he’s moving away and taking your hand. He leads you to his car and drives the familiar road to the house you lived in with him not too long ago. 
As he guided you through the very door you walked out of the day he told you what he did, he gave you a conflicted look as he said, “Just so you know, this isn’t all I want from you. I meant everything I said before,”
You give him a blank look as you move closer to him. “I don’t care,” 
Leon looked like he was in agony as you grabbed his jacket and pulled it from his body. “Don’t say that,” he begged. “Please.”
You don’t say anything else as you pull on his hands and walk backwards until your knees hit the edge of the couch. Sitting on the armrest, you run your fingers down his toned chest and try to remember that this will be a one time thing. He wasn’t yours and this wouldn’t be like all the other times you and he had been intimate. 
“I don’t want to talk anymore,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest. “So please, don’t say anything else.”
Leon could only nod, regret filling him at what he knew he made run through your head. You thought this was all he wanted, when in reality he just wanted you back. 
He leaned down and gently grabbed either side of your face as he kissed you deeply, pushing you back against the very couch you broke up with him on four fucking months ago. 
It was too much, but he couldn’t stop. He was too afraid you’d leave him forever if he did. He really was fucking weak when it came to you. He was selfish. 
He wanted you back so badly, his brain couldn’t keep up with his body. His lips were placing kisses desperately to your mouth as he felt your legs wrap around his waist. 
Leon wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to function again if you were to never talk to him after this. He didn’t even want to think about it. 
But it seemed as if you were doing the opposite. 
He kissed along your neck for a few seconds before hearing a sharp intake from you that was followed by the push of your hands against his shoulders. “Wait,” you nearly gasp, sitting up when he instantly pulls away from you, proving to you that he is at least a little better than your past boyfriends. They would have ignored you and continued touching you until they got what they wanted. 
Leon stood back and put a bit of distance between the two of you, his eyes guilty and his heart on his sleeve. “I’m sorry,” he says and you just shake your head, straightening your dress back out. 
“No, I initiated this. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me,” you apologize and stand up. “I should go. This was a mistake.” 
Leon felt his heart break as you quickly stood up and made your way to the door. He got flashbacks to the day you left him, and he knew he wasn’t prepared to see you walk out that door for the second time. 
Maybe he didn’t have to.  
You passed by the counter and abruptly stopped, your eyes fixated on something on the granite. Leon held his breath as he watched you move towards the island, your hand reaching out to grab his keys. “Leon,” you gasped quietly, your fingers gently moving something on the chain. He knew what was on it. The ring haunted him every time he used his keys, and that was the exact reason why he attached it to the chain in the first place. 
He stayed still when you turned to look back at him, his keys held tightly in your hand.
“You kept it?” You asked in a hoarse voice. You would recognize that ring anywhere, even after only seeing it one time. You couldn’t believe he kept it instead of selling it, and you were heartbroken to discover that he saw it every day whenever he entered or left his house. 
Your question offended him, but he’d never show it. “Of course I kept it,” and yet another flashback flickered in his head. 
You weren’t sure you wanted the answer, but you asked, anyway, “Why?”
Leon hardly moved as he answered, “As a reminder,” 
And it was the truth. 
And then you broke your promise as the first of many tears began to fall. 
You wished you never met him. Never said yes when he asked you out on a date, said no when he asked you to move in. You wished you didn’t agree to come to that stupid housewarming party, because now you felt lost all over again. 
Setting the keys loudly on the counter, you turn to face him fully. “Why?” You asked, your voice angry and shaky as you tried to keep your cool. “Why did you do it? I loved you more than anything else. You saved my life, Leon. Why didn’t that mean anything to you?”
Leon felt his own eyes burn as he stepped away from the couch but made no move to walk over to you. “It means the world to me, Y/n,” he promised, his heart begging his body to take you into his arms, but he held back. “So do you.”
Your lower lip trembled as you moved to stand in front of him. “Why?” You ask again, much quieter this time around. You reach up and push on his chest just slightly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t faze him one bit. And it didn’t. “Why did you go to her?”
Leon refrained from taking your hands that were still on his chest in his. “Because she had something I needed,” he regretfully answered. 
Your brows furrow and he knew he accidentally offended you with his poor choice of words. “What, I wasn’t good enough? Didn’t put out enough for you?”
“No,” he said immediately, going against his better judgment again and wrapping his fingers around your wrists. “You’re more than enough for me. You always have been and you will be forever. The thought of doing that with her made me sick and I hate myself for it, but it was the only way she would give me the information I needed for my job.”
Your eyes softened a bit but your whole body was still guarded. “Your job you can’t tell me anything about?” 
“Yes,” he whispered, his face twisting up in agony when more tears fell from your eyes. “That’s the only reason I went to her. She had something I needed, but if I ever had to do it all over again, I’d tell her to fuck off and I’d get it some other way. I can’t stand the fact that I hurt you like that.”
You tried to process his words, but you didn’t know what to think anymore. 
You believed him, and it was clear he felt awful about all that came out of his encounters with Ada. But you also weren’t sure what he wanted out of this encounter with you. Yeah, it appeared he wanted to fix things, but who’s to say he won’t shatter your heart again? 
You couldn’t take much more. You knew that. 
“It was just for work?” You asked quietly, avoiding his eyes as he pressed your hand flat against his chest. “You’re not in love with her?”
“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head to further get the point across. “No. I don’t love her, not anymore. Maybe I never did. She never made me feel the things you did and still do. My heart was never hers. It’s yours. Even after tonight, I’ll still be yours, even if you aren’t mine.”
Your eyes were begging for a break, but the tears kept coming. “My heart is yours, Leon. It’s yours to break,” you whisper. “And you did.”
He couldn’t stop himself from taking you into his arms. He wrapped you up and let out a sigh of relief when you let him, and even held onto his waist. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “So fucking sorry. I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I’d use my last breath for you, baby. You’re my entire world. You’re everything.”
“Leon,” you beg, bunching his shirt up in your fists. “Don’t do this to me again. Don’t hurt me again, I-....I can’t take it.”
“I won’t,” he promised, cradling the back of your head in his hand as if you were the most frail and fragile thing in the world. “I love you so much. It’s you who I want for the rest of my life. I never doubted that. I never want you to doubt that.”
You nod and press your head to his chest. “It’s going to take some time,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe a lot of time-”
“I’ll wait forever for you,” he swore, leaning back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He was shaking now, disbelief filling his entire being at the fact that you were letting him hold you like this again. 
You look over at his keys before meeting his eyes again. “I won’t forget about what you did, Leon,” you murmur, watching the guilt seep back into his blue orbs. “But I’m willing to forgive….I just need time.”
Leon nodded, wrapping you back up in his arms. “I’ll give you all the time you need, I promise,” he rasps. “Just don’t leave me again.”
He had no right asking you that, but he also had no control over his words at this point. 
But you just pressed your lips to the side of his neck. “Don’t give me another reason to,”
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mcdynamite · 2 years
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Nancy Wheeler has always been observant. It's something she prides herself on, if she's honest. It's what she knows will make her an excellent investigative reporter one day. It helps her make connections that other people might miss and remember the smallest of details that could make or break a story.
Perhaps most importantly, it's what makes her good at reading people – their micro-expressions, their body language, what makes them tick. She's good at it with anyone, but especially when it comes to the people she knows best.
So it's only logical that she's the first to notice when Steve starts to fall for Eddie Munson.
The signs are subtle, at first, but they're there, and Nancy can see them from a mile away. She's got the added bonus of having been the object of Steve's affections, once upon a time, so she knows what to look for. She knows that with Steve, it always starts with the lingering glances. He's never been able to keep his eyes off the people he wants, and it's this that first clues her in on the whole thing.
She's at Penny's Diner with Steve, Robin, and Eddie, and their waitress is laying it on thick, flirting relentlessly with Steve, batting her eyelashes dramatically and swaying her hips more than is objectively necessary whenever she walks away. And sure, Steve hasn't gone for any of the girls that act this way around him in a long time, but he always, always looks. Hell, even Nancy looks, sometimes, when a girl is objectively pretty. She's big enough to admit (to herself, at least) that boys aren't the only dating pool she's interested in, now that she and Jonathan are done.
But that day at Penny's, Steve doesn't give the poor waitress so much as a second glance, because that day, Steve can't seem to stop looking at Eddie.
At first, Nancy is sure she's imagining it – the way Steve's eyes linger on the dungeon master like he can't bring himself to look away – but it gets harder and harder to deny the longer they sit there sipping their milkshakes. Eddie is debating something silly with Robin, and Steve is just... watching him.
Steve's got this fond little smile on his face, and it's a look Nancy recognizes immediately. It used to be directed at her. And honestly? She's a bit relieved it's not, anymore, because she loves Steve, but not like that. Not the way she was worried Steve still loved her... the way she wonders if Steve might be falling for Eddie.
She sort of keeps an eye out for things, after that day – the little things that give Steve away when he's crushing hard on somebody. The lingering glances. The soft smiles. The brief touches. The flimsy excuses for stepping into Eddie's space, like the day Steve sees Eddie struggling with the lighter, and instead of just lending Eddie his own, he steps forward until their shoes are practically touching and holds up the flame for him.
She sees it all and wonders how in the world nobody else has caught on yet. Even Robin, Steve's best friend in the entire world, seems puzzled by the sudden lack of dates on Steve's calendar. Sometimes Nancy wants to grab her by the shoulders and tell her to just think a little harder.
(Nancy wants to grab Robin by the shoulders for other reasons, too – reasons that involve pulling Robin closer and kissing the living daylights out of her – but that's neither here nor there.)
But no matter how long Steve's pining lasts, no matter how obvious he's getting, nobody else seems to notice. It's mildly infuriating, but Nancy isn't about to talk to anyone else about it. It's dangerous being queer in this part of Indiana, and even though she knows that their little monster-fighting family won't care, it's still not her secret to tell.
It all comes to a head at a bonfire one night, midway through the summer, when the kids are once again grilling Steve on his sudden lack of a dating life. And it's Max who first cottons on to the most plausible explanation.
"Oh my God, wait, you like someone!" Max gasps midway through Dustin's interrogation.
There's a brief silence, and then the kids are all shouting.
"Oh, shit, Max, you're right. He totally does!" Dustin cries.
Steve tries to protest, but it's useless, because ever since Steve shed his royal persona two years ago, he's been a truly terrible liar. He looks like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and vaguely panicky, but Dustin Henderson has never been very good at letting things go.
"You have to tell us who it is!" Dustin presses. "We're your friends, Steve. Friends tell each other things. Unless..." Dustin gasps dramatically. "Unless she's someone we know..."
That shuts everyone up all at once, even Robin and Eddie, who have been having their own little conversation off to the side. Everyone stares at Steve, and then half of their eyes go to Nancy herself, and the other half land on Robin. It might make Nancy laugh, if Steve didn't look so close to throwing up.
"Right, well this is stupid," Steve says, smacking his hands on his knees and pushing up out of the chair. "I'm going to get another drink, and when I get back, we're dropping this."
He turns and hurries into the house, and Nancy glances around their little circle. Robin looks confused, but mostly worried. Eddie looks vaguely sick. And most of the kids just look shocked. They all start to murmur amongst themselves after the door slides shut behind Steve's retreating form. Nancy sees the way his whole body seems to sag, watching through the glass, and decides she's had enough.
She gets up, ignoring the way the murmuring gets louder as she walks, and follows him.
She finds Steve bent over the kitchen counter, palms pressed into the granite and head bent towards his chest. He looks like he's on the verge of panicking, and her heart aches for him. He's been through so much – some of which Nancy knows is her fault – and God, she just wants him to be happy for once.
"Steve?" she says softly.
Steve flinches at the sound of her voice, like he was so lost in thought he didn't even realize she'd followed him.
"There's something I wanted to-"
"Before you say anything, it's not you," he interupts flatly before she can finish. He pushes off the counter to look at her with sad, earnest eyes. "I know things were, like, weird when we were in the Upside Down, and we never really talked about it, but... I don't feel that way about you anymore. So you don't have to worry."
Nancy just blinks at him.
"That... that's what you wanted to talk about, right?" he asks.
"No, actually," Nancy says carefully. "I sort of knew you didn't feel like that about me, and I don't feel that way about you, so that's a non-issue, but..."
Steve looks relieved for a second, then tenses up again. "But...?" he says, raising an eyebrow.
"I, um... I think I might have an idea who it is – if Max is right, that is, and you really do like someone," she says.
Steve sighs. "It's not Robin, if that's what you're thinking."
"No," Nancy says softly, shaking her head. "No, it's not."
Steve frowns and averts his eyes, arms crossing protectively over his chest. He doesn't say anything.
Nancy considers her options. She wonders how she should play this, how to go about bringing this up. In the end, she just goes with her gut.
"Did you know I like girls?" she asks. It's the first time she's said it aloud to anyone, but it feels good. It feels like the right time. Besides, she wants to do this for Steve – to make him feel more comfortable. It's the least she can do.
Steve's eyes snap up to look at her again.
"I still like boys, too, but yeah... I like both, so..." She takes a deep breath. "If there was anything you wanted to tell someone about how you feel about... someone else... I'm not going to judge you."
Steve bites his lip. He looks painfully conflicted, and a little bit like he might cry. "I, uh..." he stammers. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath… clears his throat. "Okay first of all, thank you for trusting me with that, and you know I support you. I just want you to be happy, Nance."
Nancy nods, because she knows. She's always known. "That's what I want for you, too," she says. She takes a step forward and takes one of his hands in hers, because Steve's eyes are getting watery, and she hates seeing people cry. "You don't have to tell me, but if you want-"
"I think I like Eddie," Steve says suddenly, voice whisper-soft. He looks terrified when he meets Nancy's eyes again. "I, um... yeah. I like Eddie."
Nancy offers him what she hopes is an encouraging smile and nods. "Yeah, I kinda figured."
"Shit, am I that obvious?" Steve says weakly, and Nancy can't help but laugh softly.
"God, no," she says. "Well, to me, you are, but to everyone else? God, they're clueless. I promise you that nobody else has any clue, and it's been driving me crazy."
To her relief, Steve huffs out a soft laugh, as well. "Yeah, well, you've always been sort of freakishly observant, haven't you?"
It's true. She's always been like this, and that's precisely why she feels confident enough to make her next statement.
"You should tell him, Steve," she says.
Because Steve isn't the only person she's been watching for the past few months.
She's been watching Eddie, too, so she's seen Eddie's dopey, smitten smile whenever Steve makes a terrible joke. She's watched Eddie pull his hair in front of his mouth bashfully after Steve teases him. She's seen the blush on Eddie's cheeks whenever Steve steps into his personal space.
Steve Harrington isn't the only one who's been busy falling in love.
As usual, nobody else has noticed.
"No, absolutely not," Steve says, pulling his hand away and running both hands through his hair instead. "Are you crazy, Nance? He'll hate me!"
Nancy is pretty sure she deserves an Oscar for keeping her expression neutral, because the urge to roll her eyes is physically painful to resist.
"Steve," she says calmly. "I love you, and I love Eddie, but the two of you are idiots if you can't see how hard you've been pining over each other, and I am not above physically knocking your heads together to get you to realize that."
Steve's eyebrows disappear behind his hairline, and Nancy almost laughs. "Jesus, when did you get so threatening, Wheeler?" he grumbles, but there's a hint of a smile on his face. It's quickly swept away by fear, though, and Nancy's heart breaks a little when Steve looks at her with those puppy-dog eyes of his and asks, "What if you're wrong?"
She's only just opened her mouth to reply when the sliding door opens again, and someone else joins them in the kitchen.
Eddie's eyes dart back and forth between Nancy and Steve assessingly, and Nancy has to bite back a laugh because oh. Eddie was jealous.
"Sorry to interrupt," Eddie says, one eyebrow raised. "Just wanted to make sure everything was okay." He focuses his gaze on Steve, eyes softening. It's disgustingly adorable, how earnestly concerned he looks. "You doin' alright, Stevie? Kinda left in a hurry back there."
Steve glances at Nancy, face becoming redder by the second. Nancy smiles.
"Well I'm going to let you talk," she says casually. Steve's eyes nearly bug out of his head, but she puts both hands on his shoulders and looks him straight in the eyes before he can protest. "But to answer your question from before... I'm not wrong," she murmurs softly, so only Steve can hear. 
She pats him gently on the cheek and turns on her heel before Steve can respond, catching Eddie's eye on the way out. He looks perplexed, and she just smiles.
The kids hardly notice when she rejoins the circle around the fire. They've already moved on to topics that don't involve their babysitter's love life, but Robin still looks worried. It's cute. God, Robin is so cute, Nancy can hardly stand it.
"Is he okay?" Robin asks quietly. "He looked pretty upset when he left, and then you guys were gone for a while, and Eddie thought maybe you were getting back together, but I told him that was ridiculous, and now neither of them are back yet, and-"
"They're fine, I promise," Nancy says with a grin, interrupting Robin’s rambling. "They just... needed a little nudge."
Nancy gets to see the moment it clicks for Robin, and it's only a little bit hilarious. "Wait..." Robin says, mouth dropping open. "Steve...?"
Nancy nods, smile widening.
"And Eddie?"
"Yep," Nancy says. Robin looks on the verge of a massive freakout (a positive one, obviously, but a freakout nonetheless), and Nancy doesn't want her to unwittingly out both of the boys to the kids, so she changes the topic. She figures if she's making Steve deal with his feelings, she might as well do the same. You know, solidarity, and all that.
"By the way," Nancy says coolly, quietly, "did you know I'm bisexual?"
She has to cover Robin's mouth with her hand to stop her shriek of surprise, but it's worth it, because Robin instantly turns into a blushing, stuttering mess, and it's so stupidly endearing. Nancy wants to kiss her until neither of them can remember their own names.
It's even more endearing when Nancy tells her, "Yeah, so I'd really like to talk later, after the kids go to bed, if that's okay?" And Robin looks like she might faint when she blushes and whimpers out a yes.
Nancy just grins and threads their fingers together, hands tucked out of sight from the kids.
They're still sitting like that when Steve and Eddie finally come out of the house after a very long time, both boys looking flushed and a bit disheveled, but happy.
"Thought you were getting another drink?" Erica snarks at Steve when they sit down, and Nancy snorts, because Steve definitely returned empty-handed.
Steve's eyes widen and he looks at Eddie sheepishly. "I, uh... got a little distracted."
Only Max seems to recognize the implications, because her jaw drops, but Robin nudges her with her foot before she can say anything, and Max instantly shuts her mouth. She's still got a knowing look on her face, but Nancy knows she won't go outing anyone to the others. She's a good kid.
"God, you have the attention span of a puppy, Steve, I swear," Dustin grumbles, and the conversation quickly moves on.
Nancy is mostly quiet for the rest of the night, silently observing all of her friends and reveling in the feeling of Robin's hand in hers. She watches as Max tentatively rests her head on Lucas's shoulder. Watches Lucas's eyes widen and sees the internal freakout happening in his mind. She sees the way Eddie and Steve sit closer than before, practically on top of each other, faces flushed with happiness while they all make s'mores. She watches her brother look hopelessly confused sitting between Will and El, because he hasn't yet realized that while he is in love with one of them, it's not the one he thinks it is.
And at the end of the night, after the kids are all settled in the massive living room and she and Robin head for the guest room, Nancy catches Steve's eye. He and Eddie are holding hands now that they're out of sight of the kids, and Eddie can't stop staring at Steve like he's some sort of miracle. But just this once, Steve tears his eyes away from Eddie to meet Nancy's.
He smiles, mouths thank you, and gives an approving nod when his eyes land on her hand, which is still wrapped around Robin's.
Nancy just smiles and nods, and watches as Eddie impatiently tugs Steve into the bedroom and shuts the door. As Robin does the same to her, pulling her eagerly into the guest room, she has a wild thought.
If the investigative journalism thing doesn't work out, there's always the option of matchmaker.
She's apparently pretty damn good at it, after all.
And she's always been observant.
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grlpartdoll · 29 days
Text
Hi here's anotha bodyguard ghost thingy bcoz I miss him :3 this is not proofread or nothing, crucify me or whatever !! 18+ but no smut in this one yet again!!! Oops. Maybe next time :] this one is about how you two became closer nn pretty much just reader being scared that Simon s'gonna leave her :(
At first, you had been so very reluctant to have a bodyguard, you'd actually hated the idea of having someone watching you day and night. After the day someone climbed through your window to get pictures of you sleeping, though, it had been a suicide mission to try and convince your team that you didn't need one.
You'd been given multiple choices for the head of your security team — and against all odds, you picked Simon. A disgruntled, ex-military with more scar tissue then he had clean flesh. Despite it, though, he was the one who seemed to genuinely care the least when you interviewed him with your team. So you figured it'd be easy to avoid him, to live without having to have a shadow twenty four seven.
At first, it's a tense affair because you have never been so wrong in your life. Your bodyguard cared — and not even just in a casual way. He spent every second of everyday watching you, and you spent that same time trying to act like he didn't exist. You tiptoe around him, and he walks on eggshells around you. He doesn't like you, and you don't like him. Still, though, he refuses to hire more than what he strictly calls "his best men", and he refuses to have anyone else but him interact directly with you, so you have hope that with a team so small, and so avoidant of yourself, you'll be able to shake them off easily. But you're wrong, again.
So, as annoyed as you are at the situation, you act out. You disobey when he asks you to stay away from the barricades, and you treat your safety like it's something so very unimportant that Simon actually wonders if you're suicidal.
But now, after months of Ghost thinking he's fighting against an endless wall he can't actually break down, you start listening to him — or you're trying to behave, at least.
You're trying. That's as much as he can admit. He doesn't know if it's because the last time you were sick he actually stayed with you all night, and every time a cough roused you back to the real world, he rocked you back into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.
He doesn't know if it's because he recently almost killed a man who had attempted to climb onto your stage during a performance at a festival.
But he knows that after that day — your eyes had become softer around him.
Generally, Around your staff, you always kept a professional, sharp-eyed look about you, always making sure your fans were treated with respect, always keeping them in check and always making sure they didn't overstep your boundaries.
But Simon, him, gets this doe-eyed, empty headed look from you whenever it's just the two of you. Whenever you're backstage, having your makeup done with him sitting on the couch behind you, and your eyes meet through the mirror, your spine mellows, and your constantly tapping fingers relax.
Or when you're in the rehearsals, and you leave the stage to fetch yourself some water. He finds you blanking out in the corner, staring at him as he goes over all the exits with the security team, two strong hands splayed over the blueprints of the obscenely big venue. He has his uniform on — the one with the bulletproof vest, which makes him bulkier — harder to move around. He wonders if you notice all of that, or if youre just spacing out in his presence because you feel safe enough to.
Simon doesn't know what, but something's changed.
It's late at night, the day after another incident forced him to shove someone out of your way, and then show the creepy fan the colors of his fists upclose when he tried to grab at you, that it all comes to a head. You haven't gotten out of your bed in what seems like days, and he can hear you crying at night — nightmares, he's learned, make you cry in your sleep.
Your manager has been trying to get into your room for hours now — only because the people you partnered with for the tour documentary aren't too happy you aren't giving them content, and it's only for his worry about the fact that you haven't eaten since you got home that night that he lets your manager bribe him into trying to coax you out.
He knocks at your door, his tell-tale rhythm igniting a sound from you. He's not sure what it is.
"C'mon, little one. Let me in."
This time he hears you drag yourself out of bed, and slowly pad to the door. He hears you unlock it, and then move back into your bed.
When he's sure the cameras won't catch you, he quickly slides into the room and closes the door again behind him.
He sighs, watching you for a moment as you sit on the edge of your bed, pushing a hand through your messy, tangled hair. You grimace, and lean forward onto your knees.
He steps closer, only because he knows that if he speaks too loud, his words could end up somewhere he didn't want them to be.
He crouches in front of you, forcing a gentle, rough and calloused hand up to cup your cheek, using the other to push your hair out of your face.
Your eyes are puffy and red, and your face pale from a lack of.. well, everything, really.
"Look'atcha." He grumbles. "Right mess."
You push his hands away, frowning in your short lived anger.
"I don't feel good."
"I know." He pins you with a severe glare. "Does tha' mean you don' got a job to do?"
You sigh, and shake your head, pressing two shaking hands between your thighs.
He nudges your chin, connecting your gazes again so you see the concern in his.
Before he can say what's on his mind though, you pipe up, hesitant and low. "The military — you see a lot of violence."
"Yes." He replies on instinct, not knowing why.
"But I'm... you..." a shaky breath makes it out of you, and you force yourself to keep eye contact in case he starts to think you're afraid of him. "You almost killed a man."
"I was doin' m'job, lamb."
"I know." You purse your lips. Shake your head. "But I'm not used to that."
"It's happened b'for. And it sure as hell g'nna happen again, love. Youre gonna have to get used to it."
You nod. Try to breathe regularly when you remember the sight of him — muscles hidden underneath his uniform rippling against the fabric, bloody fists, fury in those dashing, stormy eyes.
You shift again, your hands going to toy with the shiny thing at his neck. His dogtags.
"You killed a lot of people. Before." It's not a question.
Still, he replies, nodding his head once, even if he feels like you're speaking yourself into a downward spiral.
"Yes." You swear you hear a tremble of restraint in his voice, his eyes traveling to your hands playing with the dogtags.
"Does that bother you?" He asks when you say nothing.
"No.." you whisper. You knew who he was when you hired him. Had been made aware of his history, too. In vague words and short and sweet versions of the facts, but you could imagine. Which is what had made you choose him. You had imagined that, surely, his history would have made him aloof, bored by you, and exceptionally checked out of reality. But he had been the exact opposite — always so tuned into you, always so in sync ; catching you right before you tripped, as though he could see into the future, always ready with a water bottle when you were just about to ask a staff member for one. And he was aware of everything — of so much. And though somehow, you did miss your freedom a little, you couldn't say you didn't like such attention being veered towards you. It was.. different. In a non-shallow way you'd never had before in your life.
"Why are you here?" You ask, suddenly. "I'm not.. I'm just.. me."
"What are you asking, exactly?"
You didn't know, yourself. You are just you. A happy go lucky idol who somehow had made her way to immense fame. You weren't exactly the army, the grith and the danger and the adrenaline he needed.
And when you'd come across those accidents — at first it had made you feel safe, but now, after watching with how much passion your Ghostly bodyguard beat someone's face in, you wondered if he would get bored of you, if you weren't enough for him. Just when you'd been starting to get used to this careful attention, this devotion.
And that is the reason why, for the past few days, you've been hiding away and crying. Because you'd realized, too suddenly, that you couldn't let him leave. That as much as you hated the idea of having a bodyguard, you now hated the idea of him leaving you.
"Are you going to leave?"
Simon's eyes shift underneath that balaclava. He blinks. Twice. Thrice.
"My contract's not over, is it?"
You sigh, pushing at his chest. He doesn't even budge at all. "I'm serious, Simon."
He nods, moving his hand to encapsulate yours, which are still toying with the iron around his neck. He holds them tightly, warmth pooling between the two of you. He brings his face closer — barely a few centimeters away from your own now.
"I'm yours, little lamb." He murmurs. "For as long as you'll have me."
You swallow thickly, and though the words register, your brain immediately twists them around — making sure to put them down in the "DO NOT REVISIT OR OVERTHINK THIS SHIT" jar.
"I don't want you to go back there." You confess as quiet as your voice can go.
For now, you let your eyes close, and you try to convince yourself that it's fine. That he is not going anywhere.
"I'm not." He promises. He closes the space between you, and you feel the ghost of his lips behind his mask as he presses them against your forehead.
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th3-c0rps3-r0gu3 · 11 days
Text
Its cold today...
Natasha X fem reader
Warnings: angst. Much angst. All the angst. Mentions of abuse. Abuse. Mentions of voices. Implied suicide. Implied abuse. More angst.
A/n: another depressed story. Don't think I did half as well on this one as I did the other but oh well. I'm in an angst mood this month it seems.
"it's cold today."
Were the first words Natasha heard out of your mouth. It was like you just realised it was cold outside. You were in Russia how on earth did you not realise that it was cold here. Natasha had stopped by where you were talking to your friend. A tall woman who Natasha now knew as Raine. But back then Natasha just heard curious words from a beautiful woman.
"it's Russia what did you expect"
Were the first words you heard from Natasha's mouth. You chuckled in response. Shrugging. You didn't know her at first. Didn't recognise the famous red head from the news. Raine did. Raine stared at her shocked. You had punched her shoulder to get her to stop staring before you had responded. You didn't know who she was back then. All you knew is that you heard curious words from a beautiful woman.
"that was the black widow"
Were the words Raine said to you after the red head left. You turned to her tilting your head slightly. Surely not. You thought that the black widow was ruthless and cunning. That woman was just... Normal. You had rolled your eyes back then and simply laughed the idea off. There was no way that the pretty red head was one of the most infamous assassin's in the world. Just no way.
"it's weather girl again"
Natasha said as she passed you in a cafe. She was with Yelena this time. She hadn't expected to see you. She hadn't expected to remember your face. Not amongst all the faces she already had ingrained in her mind. But she had. Yelena stopped and looked between Natasha and you confused. You were alone this time with a computer and coffee. Hair in a messy bun. Natasha didn't want to say she found it cute. But she did.
"pretty red head?"
You had asked shocked as you glanced up to see who spoke. Then your face went bright red. You hadn't meant to say that. It wasn't meant to go that way. But it did. And looking back you wouldn't of wanted it any other way. Only the red head wasn't alone. She was with a blonde. Your heart sank a little. Maybe she was taken and you just embarrassed yourself. But the blonde smirked at your words and walked off leaving you and the red head alone.
"Natasha. Natasha romanoff."
You had frozen in that moment. She was the black widow. Just as Raine had said. But you blinked and looked at her face closer. She was nervous. Like she expected you to turn her away in disgust. You smiled at her. Introducing yourself in the same polite manner. This was probably the weirdest way you met someone. But you didn't mind. And you didn't mind Natasha at all that afternoon. You got her number that night.
"will you marry me?"
The question rang around Natasha's skull right after she asked it. After dating for three and a half years and going steady Natasha knew she didn't want anyone else. This was perfect. You were perfect. And then you said yes and Natasha was the happiest she ever was. The faces in her head silenced and for a moment Natasha was happy again. She picked you up and twirled you around as you laughed.
"I do."
You said the words with tears in your eyes. This was the happiest you've ever been. The happiest you've seen Natasha since you said yes to this. You knew all about Natasha's past and the faces in her head. The voices she heard. You knew how to help. You studied for it after all. People danced and drank around you that day. Raine and Yelena grinning from the sidelines. They had grown to be best friends. Something you and Natasha were glad for but a bit worried about too. This was the start of the end.
"Where were you?"
You asked Natasha as you ran up to her. She had been gone three days longer than she had said she would be. You were worried sick. She hadn't called or texted. Not even Yelena picked up. You had cried at Raines house for the first two days. But Natasha simply shrugged and apologised. Saying the mission took longer than anticipated and she hadn't the time to tell you. She always had time before. Always.
"are you cheating?"
Natasha spat the words at you coldly. She had seen you with Raine yet again. Your supposed sister was always close by. At first Natasha hadn't seen it. But now. She knew. You had to be. Whenever Natasha made one small slip up you made it a big deal and went to Raines house. It was always Raine. Waiting in the shadows. The voices only backed her up. They were always right. You had to be cheating.
"Natasha?"
Your voice was shaky. She had hit you. Natasha had promised five years ago at your wedding she wouldn't lay a harmful finger on you. But she had hit you. You were back from brunch with Raine and her family. Natasha accused you of cheating again. This was the fifth time. But no matter how hard you tried to tell Natasha raine was your sister she didn't listen. Because while you let Natasha give you her demons Natasha never took yours.
"I want a divorce"
Natasha growled coldly. She saw you shaking. Blood trickling from the cut on your cheek. The cut she had put there. Natasha still held the knife she used. But Natasha was beyond help. She knew you were lying when you said Raine was your adoptive sister. She knew you were lying when you said you loved her. Because who would love Natasha romanoff. She was a monster. And you needed to get away.
"It's cold today."
You said softly. Smiling at Natasha as you stood at the bridge's edge. You remembered saying those words to Raine back then. What was it... Seven years now. You remembered Natasha's response. You remembered thinking about how pretty she was. And even now. After all of it. The abuse and promises to get better. The therapy and the drinking. You still thought Natasha was the most beautiful woman you ever layed eyes on.
"it's Russia what did you expect."
Natasha responded just as soft as she stared at you on the edge. Her heart racing. She hadn't meant it. She hadn't meant to push you so far. To hurt you so badly. She loved you. Natasha reached out slowly. She didn't want to scare you. She didn't want you to jump. She would get better. She would. She wouldn't listen to the voices anymore. The ones who called her a monster and unlovable. She remembered what you said about you and Raine. She knew you'd never cheat. You loved her. You would be ok.
"Its cold today."
Natasha spoke gently through tears at your funeral. The first words to a long speech. A toast to your life. To your death. To the lives you helped. To the people you saved. Because despite Natasha being the Avenger you always saved more people. And at the end. Natasha finished her speech with the same words she had replied to you with. Despite being strangers. Despite not knowing what the future would hold. When you were both naive and in love.
"it's Russia what did you expect."
"it's cold today"
Natasha said gently. She was on her death bed. At only ninety three years old. But Natasha was ready. She had been ready since the day you left her. Natasha didn't fear death. Maybe one day. All those years ago she would have. Back when she had voices and faces lingering in her mind. All those victims of the black widow reminding her if how much she was a monster and feeding her all those lies. Now.. well now it was you. Guiding Natasha through it all. And it's time for Natasha to join you.
"it's cold today"
Were the words engraved on your tombstone. The first word Natasha could think of to remember you by. And now the grave next to you had the same response Natasha gave all those years ago.
"it's Russia what did you expect"
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ashwhowrites · 1 year
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Older! Dealer! Eddie x reader, she goes to his house every Friday to buy from him, Eddie likes her, but he doesn't know if she likes him, so when they are dealing, he acts more flirtatious than usual, and that ends up in smut
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I combined these requests since they are similar. Then I realized not everyone is into older!Eddie so if the anon that requested is uncomfortable with older!Eddie, please reach out and I can rewrite it :)
I sat on this fic for three days because I could not get the creative energy for the smut so the smut is like building up smut and not full blown, I do apologize. I wanted to finally get it out because I had a feeling it's going to take me a while to get that right mood to write
Older dealer
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Eddie opened the door as Y/N knocked. Her contagious smile and gentle voice made Eddie's head spin. Y/N has been coming to Eddie for months now for deals. Eddie never mixed his business with his personal life, but he couldn't get this girl out of his head. She was in her 20s and Eddie was in his 40s, the age difference was the only thing stopping Eddie from making a move.
Too many nights he thought of her, lying awake as he thought about her, if she was single, her type, and if she was somehow interested in him. Eddie knew he wasn't the perfect bachelor. He lived in a small trailer and sold drugs as a quick cash grab. She seemed put together, lived in a bright world, and was so young still. She had so much to learn and explore. But he wanted to sink his teeth in her before anyone else did.
"Hey Eddie" she greeted with a big smile, sitting down at the familiar kitchen table. Eddie looked down at his watch as he sat across from her.
"Like two hours early, sweets." He teased, grabbing his bags of weed as he passed them over to her.
"Yeah, I had a date and got stood up. Figured might as well come here while I was out." She shrugged, sliding over her cash as she put the weed in her purse.
Eddie felt himself clench at her words. She was dating, but of course she was. She was gorgeous, hot, and young.
"Who's stupid enough to stand you up? Is he blind or just stupid?" Eddie asked, crossing his arms as she laughed.
"Second one. I can't tell you how many horrible dates I've been on. These guys are so shallow and boyish. Never have respect or manners. Just trying to get laid and bounce out." She complained Eddie found a sense of excitement knowing she was failing miserably in the dating world.
"Sounds like you need a break from the young ones." Eddie winked, maybe this was his shot. He pushed his head on his hand, a little smirk on his face as she tried to read his face.
"And what are you suggesting?" She asked, her eyes looking from his eyes to his lips and back. Eddie smirked at the action, licking his lips as she looked at them again.
"That you need to try an actual man," he stated, looking into her eyes as he kept his voice low. "Someone that knows how to touch a girl like you, hit the right spots, make you whimper, and make pretty sounds. Someone who will be there when you wake up." Y/N felt herself shivering at his words. Her brain thought of his hands touching her, ruining her.
Y/N felt like her throat was dry as she tried to speak up.
"And do you have a man in mind?" She asked, not realizing she was leaning in.
"Depends, are you into older men? Maybe twenty years older than you?" His eyes looked down at her lips as she kept leaning closer.
"Not until I met you. Then I couldn't get you out of my head" She confessed, Eddie smiled at her words. He pulled back and stood up. She blinked confused as she watched him.
He grabbed her hand and yanked her up. She yelped in surprise as he picked her up and placed her on the table. He stood between her legs and wrapped a hand around her neck, tilting her head up.
"I was worried you'd be too young for me. But fuck, you never leave my head. Can't believe those boys don't realize the chance they got." He said, his lips ghosting over hers. Giving her time to stop it if it wasn't what she wanted.
"What about you? Dating around?" She whispered, she knew he was with others and she hated knowing his body was touched by someone else.
"Eyes just on you, baby." He admitted, his lips even closer to hers. He moaned when she smashed her lips on his, her arms around his neck as she tried to control the kiss. He let her have the control for a little while. He took his time to taste her and feel her body under his hands.
He pulled away, she whimpered as he did. Her hands are trying to yank him closer. He pecked her pout softly.
"Patience darling." He whispered, he stood between her legs as he stripped her clothes, admiring her as she laid bare underneath him. His hands moved to her chest, squeezing her breasts softly as he kissed down her neck. His mouth wrapped around her left nipple, sucking softly. His right hand moved down her body, rubbing her clit slowly.
Y/N never thought she'd find herself under her older drug dealer, gasping and cumming over and over. But she was grateful that every bad date led her to this.
Eddie figured people would have shit to say about their age difference, but he didn't care.
He wanted her and he got her. That's all he cared about.
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93
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transmascissues · 15 days
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sorry about the out of nowhere ask but i thought id note something minor ive seen around: a lot of the time (especially on reddit) theres a lot of positivity for specifically trans women, and very little for trans men. and if a trans man/transmasc person tries to comment on that they get ridiculed for it. but then if someone posts transmasc positivity at all, people in the comments of that post will talk about how there "isnt enough positivity for trans women" despite the fact that most of the positivity posted is for trans women. i dont know, just something weird (it could also just be because reddit is kinda really different, environment-wise, but considering theres been similar things pretty much. everywhere else. yeah)
i do think a lot of this has to do with demographics – from what i've seen, reddit tends to have more trans women than trans men, so it doesn't surprise me to see more posts that are geared toward trans women there.
tl;dr because this got super long: people are right to say that there isn't enough positivity for trans women, but there also isn't enough for trans men. the fact that so many of us are ridiculed for trying to put more out there is the real problem.
at the end of the day, there really isn't enough positivity for any trans people because most of the world either hates us or wants to forget we exist. we have our little pockets of community where we support each other and lift each other up, but until the rest of society gets on board, it'll never be enough. so even in spaces where there's more positivity for trans women than for trans men, they're absolutely right to say there isn't enough positivity for trans women! and that's why i don't inherently have a problem with spaces like that – trans joy and positivity is always a good thing and always needed, and spreading that for part of the community doesn't take away from the rest of the community, it just means there's some of us are bit closer to getting the kind of love and support they deserve than they were before, and that's a good thing! you can't make everything for everyone, but if we all work at lifting each other up, eventually it'll all balance out and we'll all be better off for it. so if you happen to find a space that's for all trans people but tends to be more geared toward trans women when it comes to positivity, instead of getting caught up in how much positivity for trans women is already there, i think the best thing to do is to add positivity for trans men! we're the ones who lift each other up, so if we see a gap in the support, we're the ones with the power to step in and fill that gap.
and i can honestly understand why trans women in those spaces might get defensive or upset if someone points out the amount of positivity for trans women as if it's a bad thing, even if what that person is actually trying to say is just that they wish there was more for trans men too. i can't really blame anyone for that defensiveness because i feel the exact same way when people point out the amount of positivity for trans men&mascs here as if it's a bad thing, even though i know a lot of them are really just expressing in an imperfect way that they wish there was more for other trans people as well. wanting to defend those sources of joy in a world that offers us so few of them is only natural.
now, all of that being said, what i absolutely DO have a problem with is when that defensiveness gets to the point of attacking trans men's efforts to add positivity for ourselves as well. it perpetuates these false ideas that 1) there's only a finite amount of trans joy that can be expressed and we have to fight over it, and 2) trans men are currently hoarding that finite resource and are obligated to give it up entirely so that other trans people have a chance at getting it. obviously, both of those statements are deeply untrue – one part of the community getting support doesn't take anything away from other trans people because we should all be aiming for more support and positivity, not just redistributing the inadequate amount we currently have to more "worthy" subjects, and it's impossible to quantify how much support each part of the community gets because that's so dependent on the individual spaces you're looking at as well as what you're counting as support. and as much as i can understand feeling protective of our spaces, when that protectiveness leads us to turn on each other and push each other out of spaces that were supposed to be for all of us, that's taking it way too far.
and i also do think there's an attitude in a lot of trans spaces (and in more general queer/feminist/leftist/activist spaces) that trans men are a more acceptable target for that kind of ridicule because we're men and people in those spaces tend to already be very settled into this idea that there's never a bad time to tell men to sit down and shut up, even when the men in question are marginalized and trying to fight against their own oppression. if someone says "ugh there's too much positivity for trans women here," that's going to be met with a lot of people (rightfully) saying "hey, what the hell, man, that's super transmisogynistic." but if the same is said about trans men, those same people have no problem saying "i know, right? men love taking everything for themselves, it's the worst."
and that kind of attitude even extends to trans men simply creating positivity in spaces that don't have as much of it, even if they don't comment at all on the other kinds of positivity that might exist in that space. especially if we dare to add specific mentions of trans men onto an existing positivity post (which isn't actually a bad thing at all! adding more good to a good post doesn't take anything away from the original good!), we're met with a chorus of "wow, why do men always have to make everything about themselves, can't women have anything?" it's a perspective that groups us in with cis men as this privileged horde that talks over everyone else and seeks to dominate every space it enters, completely ignoring the fact that the image of loud domineering men they're invoking is based on cis(het white abled) men who've spent their whole lives being told they're the most important people in every room, which is very different from trans men who were brought up being taught to make ourselves small and be of service to more important people. they forget (or simply choose to ignore) that when we're loud about our needs and experiences and even our joy, it's not because taking up space was a practice passed down to us by our manhood, it's because we had to learn to be loud when we realized that staying quiet meant making it easier for the people who hate us to dispose of us without the rest of the world even noticing our absence.
all of that to say, i absolutely do think you've hit on a real issue here, i just don't think that issue actually has to do with the prevalence of positivity for trans women. it's a lot less about who gets more or less support in any given space, and a lot more about how those spaces react when the less represented groups start making their presence known. and yeah, a lot of trans spaces have some pretty damn awful reactions to trans men who literally just want to lift each other up and feel supported by our community in return.
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lumilovessmut · 7 months
Text
My Messy Girl
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Nanami Kento x Female Reader
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Trigger warnings: Smut (18+), slight choking, daddy kink, office sex, slight exhibitionism, p in v, established relationship, name calling: love, sweetheart, slut, dear, wifey, baby, mama, few mentions of breeding, slight pervert Nanami.
A/n: Hello my lovely readers! It's your lumi 🧡 So I thought I'd give you guys something special cause my hiatus is supposed to end around May but since you readers would want something I'm making this, I hope you guys will love it too 🧡 As always striving to make better quality fanfics for you guys. It would be really helpful if u guys can join my Instagram account also. I'll leave the link below, ty 🧡🧡🧡
Word count: 0.86k
Upload date: 10th March, 2024
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Everybody knows Nanami Kento was a clean freak. But if anyone were to see Nanami right now they would be astonished. His office is a mess, the papers on his desk is in a disarray, his couch is messy, and if it were normal working hours right now, everyone would have heard your pathetic, melodious moans. But the most surprising factor of all would be, the fact that Nanami Kento, the NANAMI KENTO is so messy right now that it is both a sin and a boon to look at him. He has you, who only came to deliver his dinner because it was very late and he may stay in the office for more hours. But the moment Nanami saw you, his world blurred and only your presence was worthy of his attention. The dinner you prepared in the cute bento box didn't matter only you did.
Everything was a blur, Nanami has been eating you out for more than what seems like eternity, his tongue laps at your entrance and he fucks his saliva into your hole, like a thrifty man in the desert he keeps sucking all your juices. The bridge of his nose serves to be a good spot for grinding your clit, Nanami was in heaven. "Baby, have I ever told you- fuck that you taste like the nectar from heavens? Yeah, keep going, just one more baby, just- fuck one more please darling, make a mess! make a mess, sweetheart I'm just a mess for you down there." "Nanami pleas- I-I-I can't n-no mor-nghhh please no mor-eek! Gonna ah! Gonna cum! Nanamiiiiiii!" "Don't worry princess cum, just like that mmmmmmgh, fuck you taste heavenly, keep cumming, mmmmm." Nanami, keeps tongue fucking you till you calm down, once he comes up from between your legs, you see the most breath taking view of your life, disheveled hair, your juices running down his chiselled face.
"Wanna taste yourself baby?", he comes and kisses you, "understand why I like your cum so much? Hmm? Answer me baby?", "Yes", you could hardly answer him, he looked too ethereal for you to comprehend anything else, without much thought in mind you brush the baby hair stuck to his forehead. "Wanna be come my Messy Girl?" Nanami suddenly asked you and to say you were shocked was an understatement cause you knew he hated messes yet here he his asking you if you can be his messy girl. You nod yes cause after all who would say to no to him?
The only thought your head is filled with is Nanami and the only thing your cunt is filled with is his cum and dick, he has been fucking you practically everywhere in his office, on his desk? Check. On his office sofa? Check. On the glass window looking down the city? Check. His thick girthy cock, throbbing with veins and his pretty flushed red tip banging at your cervix was bringing you closer to heaven than even death can bring you to. "Baby imagine someone were to notice us fucking like horny teenagers? Hmm? What would they think when the most polite person, the most beautiful- fuck, the most sexy person ever on earth is getting laid down in such a dirty, dirty, pathetic way? Scream for me my love, louder I want the whole city to know who is fucking you, who owns the most prettiest slut in town. You drive me wild babyyyy, I can't seem to stop thrusting into you even if I want to, my body craves for you my soul aches for you, without you I'm nothing- oh fuck! I'm gonna cum in yeah again, yeah? You like the sound of that? Does my wifey wanna become a mama? Yeah? Fuck Oh! Feels so good c-can't stop g-gah mmm fuck can't stop, focus on me baby, focus on me on my-aaah! On my thrusts cum with me, I said cum with me- Aaahh fuck fuck FUCK!! OHH feels tooo good baby."
You cum on his cock on command, your mouth opens in a silent scream, throat raw from screaming and moaning his name, your ears are ringing and your thighs are all sticky with cum and arousal, your eyes are rolled back into your skull and your back is arched beautifully, thick cum shoots inside of you one last time for the day, he slowly removes himself from you, your legs shaking like a lone leaf on a tree in winter. "Darling, don't let my cum go waste yeah?" He says while pulling up your panties which were ruined already due to your arousal. "Nanami? I-I'm tired." "I know baby I know, don't worry I'm here just you rest while we leave for home." He kisses your head and slowly lifts you and his work bag and goes to his car making sure you are well covered. The ride home is silent and peaceful, Nanami glances at you every now and then at your sleeping face. Once he stops at the red signal, he slowly takes the hand which he was holding and kisses it while saying, "Thank you my treasure, the only mess I love is you and only you.
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Thank you guys for making it to the end of another fic :)
Hope you guys enjoyed it!
Until next time 🧡
Luv ya guys
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thelovehypothesis · 9 months
Text
Sunsets with you.
Harry Styles x fem!reader
Requested- lost my old account so this is basically me reposting my old stuff
Summary: Everyone else’s opinions on your and Harry’s relationship get in your head, but you’re it for Harry and he won’t have it any other way.
a/n’s: pretty sloppy but smwt enjoyable, please sendin request!
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You’re well aware that you’re living the dream of many, being Harry’s girlfriend is something many dream of and somehow here you are, 4 years into a relationship with the man of your dreams.
Even though you were “living the dream” this said dream can with backlash, 4 years of trying to have a private (as possible with some fail) relationship, and some how media always had article to share on your relationship, fans had comments and haters hate to spread.
Truthfully it never got any easier for you to have the public eye on you, even though Harry always tried to help with sweet nothing and telling you to just full on ignore it, it was hard one click lead to another and you ended up engulfed in people opinions about you and your relationship.
Having said that, tour had been taking a toll on your relationship, you being “left” behind in London with harry signing his heart out around the world just gave your mind to much time to click and overthink, and most articles and post you read were full on rumors questioning your fidelity and his, and well you two trusted each other and had been through so many scandals that you knew better that to even bat a thought a those articles. It was rather the article criticizing you: your job, looks, intentions, family; that’s were you’d overthink your value in the relationship.
And so you started to distance yourself from him, not picking up his phone calls ever time he would call, texting him back less often and giving him shorter replies.
So when he came back for a short break, his grown worry from your uninterested self on having a proper conversation with him immediately unleashed a fight, well more so of an argument.
“We’ve been through this! You have to stop reading the comment and articles. They know one shit about us!”
“H-how can I. Im sorry but all they say is true! You’re this big pop star traveling all around the world with this huge successful career, while I’m stuck here working a 9 to 5!”
Silence
Being truthful Harry and you hardly fought but we you did it some how always lead to moments like this. You looking at each other with pleading eyes, hoping the other would just listen.
“I-I-I don’t know what you want me to say y/n”
“I don’t need you to say anything. I need you to listen, and to finally realize that I’m not-not enough for you H.
You need someone that can travel with you, and that can take on the public eye and-and that’s not me-“
“stop”
You could see the tear drops forming in Harrys eyes, even though yours are already flooded.
“Harry-“
“No. No. Yo-You don’t get to say those things. Not now not ever”
He starts stepping closer, cupping your face with his hand making you look at him.
“y/n listen please… just listen.
You are the most amazing human being I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, I know you better than anyone so I get to tell you that-that the comparison you’re making isn’t fair. You’re working on achieving your dreams, and you not that far away, and we are still so young, and somehow everyday you prove yourself to everyone around you, there is no doubt in the world that you’re the most talented person out there. I on the other had just got a head start and-and without you I-I wouldn’t be here, you’re my muse, my everything”
Sobbing, full on sobbing. How could this god of a human possibly believe in you this much knowing first hand how tough the world is.
“Harry I-I just can do it anymore-
I feel so small sometimes and I don’t want to be a burden to you”
“God y/n”
Harry lets you go.
He goes upstairs, and that’s the last indicator you needed to know that Harry can grow so much more if you just let him go, so you follow him, to say goodbye and sorry one more time.
When you got to you shared bedroom, you saw him walking out of the closet, eyes immediately meeting.
“I still hadn’t planned it out so far but I guess the time found it’s self”
Harry steps closer to you and takes your hand in his. Now in your hand, is a small velvet box.
Tears on the edge of both your eyes, but for a different reason now.
‘Just stop your crying, it’ll be alright’
“You’re it for me. And no matter how many times I have to reassure you of it, it’s me who doesn’t deserve you. “
‘So please stop your crying baby it’s the sign of the times
runaway with me, to a world that only you and me’
“Harry- are you sure of what your doing” your voice trembling more that thought possible.
A scoff leaves his mouth.
“I’m sure. I want this. All of it. The big house on top of the hill, the four children running around screaming, the wedding, the dog, all of it.
So y/n y/l/n would you do me the honor of marrying me and living the rest of life together?”
He said now on one knee.
He sees right through you, he knows you could never stop living him even if you tried to, you two find home in each other.
So without an other thought, you rapidly nod your head and kneel down to be able to kiss Harry.
The kiss you shared was full of the unspoken sorry’s each of you feel needs to be said, the new promises that come with this new stage your relationship, just love, the immense love you two share.
“I love you.”
“I love you so much more.”
And there you were in your sweet tender moment, not a worry in mind, hearts beating in sync and lovesick eyes that gazed at each other.
After a few more moments Harry broke the silence.
“I love you so much that if you want me to scream it from the rooftops I will, if you need me to reassure you of your worth every day I will. I will do anything if it makes you happy.”
“I love you so much. Thank you for loving me as much”
“Forever.”
He’d already slipped the ring on your finger sealing this moment forever.
End 📌
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pretty-blkgirl · 25 days
Text
Soul’s Desire [Ch. 7]
- Masterlist-
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Knocking on the door to Bang Chan’s studio proved to be the hardest task you’ve ever faced. On the other side of the door was your soulmate, the person you were fated to be with.
On one hand, you were ecstatic, finding your soulmate was one of your biggest dreams. But on the other hand, being an idol was another one of your dreams, and what are the odds you’re meant to be with a man who’s a part of the same company as you?
You knew how big of a scandal this could be, and how much damage it would do to your respective careers. He was in one of the biggest K-pop groups in the world, and though you could already feel your affection towards him grow, you couldn’t bear to ruin everything he’s worked for.
Just as your anxiety spiked, and you contemplated running away, the studio door swung open to reveal a smiley Han Jisung.
Immediately your heart rate rose. It was silly, not only were you nervous because you were face to face with your destined partner, but also because this was the first time you both met personally.
Despite both being at JYP, the boys' schedule either had them overseas or cooped up in a studio. You being a trainee for only 6 months meant you barely had any time to meet them.
Your members met them though, Dae was even good acquaintances with Changbin, but your busy schedule (mixed with your ability to somehow miss any chance of meeting them you get) kept you away from them.
Now you stand right in front of someone who you admire and is destined to love.
Crazy how life works.
“Come in,” He says, moving to the side and allowing you to walk past. The first thing you see is Chan’s legendary laptop sitting on the desk.
Your impulsive thoughts say to touch it, but you don’t, instead, you sit on the sofa and look down at your shoes.
Han, ever so attentive to the new mark that connects you two, taps your shoulder and waits patiently for you to look up at him.
When you do, he’s wearing a kind look, “Foods gonna be here soon.”
You nod and quickly look down again, not missing the small chuckle Han lets out before he sits at the edge of the desk. There’s an awkward silence before he decides to break it
“Stop being so nervous”
“You’re Han Jisung”
“You’re y/n y/l/n”
“You’re HAN JISUNG”
“Call me Hannie” He smirks, “All the people close to me call me that”
“We’re close?”
“We’re soulmates. It doesn’t get any closer than that”
A knock on the door startled you briefly but Han walks to the door, opens it slightly, and talks to the person outside. The conversation is quick, and he closes the door after a few minutes.
“Staff?” You ask
“Yeah, my manager”
Your anxiety rises a little, “Does he know about me?”
“He definitely knows about your group, and he’s good friends with your manager, so I’d say yes”
You sigh, “Han, I mean does he know about us?”
“He doesn’t” He shrugs, “I promised you I wouldn’t tell anyone”
“Right” you nod, “Only one of my members know, we shouldn’t tell anyone else”
Han’s silence is, frankly, loud. It causes your anxiety to rise as you ponder over what’s not being said.
“There’s something you’re not telling me”
“We should get to know each other”
“Han please just tell me”
“Can’t I get to know my soulmate a little?”
With a defeated groan, you scoot over and pat the space next to you on the couch. He happily sits and isn’t shy about checking you out.
“You’re gorgeous” He sputters, “I’m a lucky guy”
Your cheeks heat up instantly, “You’re pretty nice-looking yourself”
The conversation flows after that, with you two telling stories about your predebut life, your likes and dislikes, and most importantly- what you expect from a soulmate.
“I value affection, but I understand some people aren’t affectionate,” You say, “What’s your love language?”
“Honestly I think all of them” Han answers with a small chuckle, “How about you?”
“Same! I can’t pick one. Lately, I’m into physical touch though, my members are sick of me”
This makes Han burst out laughing, and you realize just how cute his laugh is.
Once he’s calmed down, he looks at you with pure adoration, “I can’t believe this is the first time we met. How long were you a trainee again?”
“Six months” You answer, “I heard Lee Know was a trainee for only a couple weeks though?”
“That’s true! He’s so talented, I’m excited for you to meet the guys”
“Yeah, I hope they like me”
All the ease drained from you as Han gave you a weird look
“Han, you’re still not telling me something”
He sighs, “I just don’t know how you’re gonna react”
“Is it bad?” You question, your nerves causing you to tap your foot repeatedly
“No,” He says, “Just a lot to take in”
He sets a comforting hand on your knee, and you stop tapping your foot instantly.
“How’s your symbol feeling?” He questions suddenly
“It kinda tingles a little, I thought that maybe it was reacting to the bond you have with your members…?”
He gives you a small grin, “Yeah, that’s halfway right”
“Can you please tell me the whole truth?”
“…The bond is reacting that way because I’m not your only soulmate”
You were surprised, but not as much considering this theory had been in the back of your mind.
Okay, so you have more than one, crazy but not impossible.
“Okay, is it Chan and Changbin? My palm burned when I saw them earlier”
Han looked away and scratched his neck nervously, “Yeah it’s them”
“Okay, three soulmates! That’s alright, I’ll get used to it” Your tone was optimistic, and you thought Han would share the same sentiment.
Unfortunately, he looked back at you with an odd expression
“Um… what if I said there are more?”
“What? You said it was Chan and Changbin”
“It is! That’s just not it”
You groaned loudly, “Who else then?”
“…..the other five members”
~~~~|~~~~
Taglist: @prttyxbby @yukichan67 @h0rnyp0t @chuuyaobsessed @hanniemylovelyquokka
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floofanflurr · 3 months
Text
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Meet Ink Frisk and Chara, an UTMV redraw
(Ink Sans belongs to Comyet)
My friends helped me figure out a whole bunch of character mashups for me to draw! I’ll be doing the rest of UTs main cast as different UTMV characters.
(Bonus image and more ramble under the cut:)
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@humankk and @bee-the-aroace-dragon said that Ink Sans would take Ink Frisk and Chara under his wing (and would keep them away from the more 18+ AUs) so have a sketch of that. Because I love the thought of Ink Sans mentoring little Color Drop.
Now for ramble! This was supposed to just be a reimagining of Ink Sans’s role in the Multiverse, though I’ll admit that I’ve named them and have a few head canons… so for anyone curious, here we go!
Color Drop:
- They prefer going by Frisk and Chara, and will answer to “Ink” if someone calls them that, but if there’s multiple Frisk or Chara around, they go by Color Drop.
- If you have need to refer to only one of them, (Why would you, though? We’re pretty much the same.) Chara answers to “Color,” and Frisk answers to “Drop.”
- Similarly to Ink Sans, they come from an abandoned AU, where Frisk was the main character, and Chara was attached to them as a ghostly narrator. Frisk was the only completed being with a soul in that world, though Chara was also fully aware.
-Frisk, however, was not originally aware of Chara’s presence as an aware being, as Chara was stuck only narrating things.
- By nature of Chara’s death, they do not have a soul of their own.
- When Frisk almost destroyed their soul in hurt and confusion and despair, Chara latched on and took it for safe keeping. It’s now stored in a recreation of their locket. This was when they both fell into the nothingness.
- Being stuck in the nothingness is where Frisk learns more about Chara and that they are aware.
- Neither of them know how to return Frisk’s soul.
- Frisk can still feel because of the proximity of their soul, but it’s more numb than they were used to. They need the paint to feel as strongly as they once did.
- Due to Chara’s lack of soul, they use the paints to help them feel things. Being closer to Frisk also helps them feel because of their mental link.
- Chara is tangible in the doodlesphere, void, and antivoid (when they want to be)
- When visiting AUs, Chara is intangible. They can also go back to just being in Frisk’s mind where no one else can see them if they want.
- Frisk is the one who makes most of the choices and actions, but they don’t talk a lot. Chara prefers to leave things to them, and mostly narrates and provides commentary.
- Chara and Frisk share a mental link where they can talk telepathically.
- Despite having different and distinct personalities, sometimes they struggle to figure out where “Frisk” ends and “Chara” begins.
- Frisk is selectively mute and uses ASL or a tablet to write out what they want to say. They speak aloud on occasion, but it’s rare.
- Frisk’s colored hair isn’t consistent. It’s constantly changing which strands are highlighted.
- Frisk’s favorite character in the AUs is Papyrus. It’s why they chose the red scarf.
- Chara’s favorite is all of the Frisks. (They also love Sans and his jokes and pranks, though they won’t admit to it, especially considering how many Sanses out there hate them)
- If you manage to separate them somehow… Things will not go well. For anyone.
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lemonlover1110 · 1 year
Text
Baby Steps
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 20] The Search
← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
Happy to co-host Gojo NSFW Week 2023! Come join us on Twitter!
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Satoru tries to think of where you can possibly be. Where did Suguru possibly take you? He recognized the phone’s location, and it was Suguru’s parents’ house. He parked the car to warp there, and when he appears in Suguru’s room, it’s empty. He exits the room and looks around the house, inspecting every corner. His heart races and it feels as if it’s about to beat out of his chest. He’s scared of what he’ll find– He swears that he’ll kill Suguru when he sees him. Get you somewhere safe and then kill Suguru.
He finds your phone, however, it’s just that. There’s nothing nearby that can trace back to you either, other than your phone. He warps back to his car before continuing his search, and he takes your phone since it can help him. He’s brainstorming all the possible places that Suguru has taken you, and he also realizes that he has to explain everything to Kaya. 
He doesn’t know how he’ll explain everything to her while also telling her to not involve the police. But he doesn’t worry too much about that, he’s mainly worried about your wellbeing and your baby. He has to take deep breaths to calm himself down as he thinks of his next move. 
He has to find you before the baby is born, he just isn’t sure if he can search every part of the world in due time. But he has to find you before Suguru does anything to you– Once the baby is born, your life hangs on by a thread; it hangs on by a thread now, he should rather say that once your baby is born, your life is over. Unless Suguru has other plans, which is also concerning. 
But he’ll find you fast enough, he will. He’ll make sure of it. Even if it’s the last thing he does.
-
Everyday you patiently wait for Satoru to come around and rescue you. Suguru took you to the middle of nowhere to live, at least that’s what it feels like. Suguru lets you free, no restraints because you’re just too far away to get help from anyone else. Even at night, there’s someone always awake watching you, and the small house you’re in doesn’t muffle any sounds. 
You learned that Suguru has two daughters– Not biological, they’re like Megumi and Tsumiki. Children that he decided to help. They’re helping him out, although you doubt that they know what they’re helping with. 
You’re not sure exactly how much time has passed by– Suguru drugged you before taking you elsewhere, and since then you haven’t been able to keep track of time that well. You’re sure that at least six weeks have passed though. Each minute that passes, you’re closer to giving birth, and each minute that you spend here, you’re closer to your death.
Suguru wasn’t joking, he was pretty serious. You’re sure of it. There’s no reason why he’d keep you for so long. And each moment that happens, every small pain, can suggest the end of your life and you’re extremely anxious.
“Dinner is ready.” There’s a knock on the door of your room, and you feel the same nausea that you had every single day for the first trimester of your pregnancy. He usually wants you to accompany him during dinner, but you refuse. You wait till he’s asleep to eat something, or until he’s not in the mood to accompany you. 
You hold your breath until you know that there’s no one by your door. Your back lays down on the uncomfortable bed, staring at the ceiling. Each second you spend thinking about a way to escape, you work yourself up, get confident for around an hour and so, and then come crashing down. You can’t escape. You can barely keep yourself up for a couple minutes, running away would certainly be too difficult. You have nothing to do so imagining breaking free is the only thought that entertains you.
The door opens, and you lift your head to find Suguru there. He holds a tray with your food, which is a weird gesture, but you can’t exactly complain about it. You do wonder why he decides to walk into the room to bring you food, usually he lets it sit.
“You know exercising can help you induce labor.” Is the first thing he says when he steps into the room. Of course he does, he wants to get rid of you as fast as possible. You sit up and you take the tray for him. You don’t say anything. You never do. “The twins are sick so don’t be too loud tonight. No one wants to hear your crying.”
“Maybe if you let me–” You begin, and he knows exactly what you’ll say so he cuts you off.
“We’re going out tomorrow, you have to take a breath of fresh air. Enjoy nature before it’s too late.” He interrupts. You inhale and gulp. When he exits the room, you have to put the tray down elsewhere because you have no appetite.
This is all happening because you wanted to get back at Satoru. He warned you. You just assumed that he was jealous which is foolish of you.
-
Suguru takes you to the town that’s near the house which is almost an hour away. He tells you that he’ll buy you a dress because the only clothes you have barely fit you anymore; he’ll then take you out to eat, the last time you’ll ever go to a restaurant.
“Be out in fifteen minutes, we’ll meet you here.” Suguru says while the twins try to drag him somewhere else, and you end up nodding in response. You walk into the small shop to look for a dress that fits, which feels impossible. Especially with the little money Suguru gave you.
There’s an older woman that walks around, most likely the owner of the shop. She smiles at you and you smile back at her. You get an idea as you walk over to her and you feel your legs trembling. Your voice is shaky as you speak up, “Excuse me… Do you have a phone I can use?”
She furrows her eyebrows but ends up agreeing before she passes her flip phone. You think of a number to dial, and you curse yourself for not having any numbers memorized but your own– No one has your phone. Suguru left it there, in the first house he took you. But your thumbs still input the numbers.
You bring it up to your ear and you’re discouraged with every ring. And just as you’re about to hang up the phone, someone picks it up. You feel so relieved to hear his voice, you’ve been waiting to hear it for weeks, and you almost burst into a cry when you hear it,
“Hello?”
“Satoru– Satoru, it’s me. Listen, I don’t have long but I’m with Suguru, we’re in–” You begin, your voice low as you speak so the woman or anyone else in the store can hear, but you have to stop because  you don’t know where you’re at. You have no idea. You ask the old lady where you’re at, and you relay the message to the man that’s on the other side of the phone. “If not, I’m in a small house an hour away. Please find me in time– If you don’t… Please take care of our son.”
Before he can say anything else, you hang up the phone. You can’t risk Suguru walking in and seeing you on the phone. You give it back to the lady and begin to look for the dress. You begin to look for something your size.
Without noticing, the fifteen minutes go by and Suguru steps into the store. His eyes immediately land on you and he grabs your arm. He squeezes and then whispers, “I told you fifteen minutes, didn’t I?”
“Well, I don’t have a watch. Plus nothing here seems to fit.” You respond. “Just give me a few more minutes.”
“I told you fifteen minutes, didn’t I? Why would I give you more time? Give me a reason.”
“I’ll cause a scene.” You reply. “It’s just a fucking dress, give me some more time.”
“Why couldn’t you find one in fifteen minutes?” He asks, and you bite down on your lip. Maybe because you’re only thinking about Satoru, hoping that he’ll save you in due time. Hoping that he cares enough about you to look for you. So you begin to cry, causing the scene that you promised.
“I’m so big, nothing fits!” You claim, and Suguru is almost embarrassed. The old lady looks at him and he sheepishly smiles before saying,
“Pregnancy hormones.” 
And while he hopes to calm you down, the little bell that indicates that someone is in the shop, rings. You both look at it, and while you were praying for salvation, you didn’t expect it to come so soon. Suguru’s plan was almost perfect, except that he left you alone while shopping. He couldn’t take his eyes off you for a single moment.
“Step away from her, Suguru.” Satoru says, causing Suguru's grip to get stronger. He comes at the right time, and you wonder how he got here so fast but at this moment you don’t care. You dig your long nails into his hand and Suguru removes his hand as a reflex which allows you to break from his side. Maybe not being taken care of for weeks isn’t too bad– At least not in this situation. You run to Satoru’s side, and he grabs your hand. You squeeze his hand a little stronger than you intend as you feel a sharp pain on your lower abdomen for a minute. 
You’re about to let go of Satoru but he pulls you in, and in a blink, you’re elsewhere.
“Satoru…” You say as you look around. You’re on the outskirts of a completely different city. This feels like a dream, a fucked up one at that. “Where are we?”
“I have to explain a lot but… I have to go take care of Suguru. Ijichi will take care of you while I do that, okay?” 
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