#sorry i just *clenches fist* really fucking love angst man

[littleocean-rose]

these three pics alone make me want to write an angsty san fic-

[gojosprettyprincess]

Toji angst, not proofread

“So the whole fucking time, you were just using me because I look like her??” You screamed in disbelief and confusion, one part of you wanted to slap the shit out of him and the other wanted to crumble and have a mental breakdown right then and there.

He frowned in disbelief, his expression morphing into disappointment as he struggled to convey his emotions, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—yes it’s true you do look like her but I promise I loved you for you, not for her, I swear, doll” he spoke softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of sincerity and pain. He tried his best to stay composed as his own heart ached to witness the tears welling up in your eyes.

“You fucking liar—how could you Toji!, after all those fucking memories we shared together, after everything that we did—It meant absolutely fucking nothing to you? What the fuck, what the fuck” you yelled out, tears cascaded down your cheeks as snot escaped your nose. Fuck, it hurts. You love him so much, Toji was the man of your dreams, he treated you like diamonds and gems. His actions and gestures were always filled with the kind of love and devotion that one would do anything for.

But… Was it really “for you” though?

His heart shattered into a million pieces. Oh he wanted to pull you into a tight embrace and hug you and comfort you so so badly but he just couldn’t, he couldn’t—he doesn’t deserve to even touch you and he knew that. You deserved so much better than him.

“I-“ He stammered.

“Get out, Toji,” you said amidst sniffles, your eyes visibly red with anger, your fists clenching tightly.

“Get the fuck out”

His eyes widened in regret, a strong sense of guilt washing over him as he pathetically stood before you in utter disbelief. Fuckfuckfuck how could he have fucked this up. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault you look like precious dead wife whom he love so much with all his heart, it’s not your fault either—he knew you deserved better but fuck, you look just like her. He can’t help it, she’s not here anymore but you were the exact identical of her—what was he supposed to do?

[andvys]

It's just us | S.H.

Warnings: 18+, angst, cheating (reader and Steve get cheated on by their partners), heartbreak, betrayal, enemies to lovers, King!Steve, smut, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, r and Steve are both over the age of 18, mentions of reader having nipple piercings

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve hated each other from the first moment you met but when you get betrayed by the people you love the most, all you have is each other.

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: I was really fucking close to making this an Eddie fic or at least a Steddie fic cause Eddie Munson owns me but this one is for my Steve girlies and for the ones who asked me to write for him before so here ya go. And I'm back to focusing on my one and only

stranger things masterlist

part two (steddie x reader)

-

There was one person that you hated more than anything, Steve Harrington. From the first moment you have laid your eyes on him, you just couldn’t stand him. You hated his cocky and arrogant personality, his perfect reputation, how sure of himself he always was. You hated King Steve, you hated the way he looked at you, you hated the way he used every opportunity to piss you off, he said things that he knew would get under your skin. 

He hated you too, he hated how loved you were, he hated how popular you were. Both of you rivaled each other, he was the captain of the basketball team and you were the head cheerleader. In a perfect world, you would be together and people would call you a dream couple but instead you two hated each other’s guts. 

You threw nasty words at each other, bickering every time you were around each other. You avoided him as much as he avoided you and for a while it worked until he started dating your best friend, Nancy. 

Over were the peaceful lunch breaks at the cafeteria where you would only sit with her and your boyfriend. Steve started tagging along with her, greeting you with cocky grins and mocking waves whenever he would sit down opposite of you. 

Not only were you forced to spend every lunch break with him, you also had to tolerate him during movie nights, parties and even worse, double dates. 

You hated him more and more. 

You thought that your boyfriend would take your side, joining in on the Steve Harrington hate train but oddly enough, they became friends. 

Months went by and you had hoped that Nancy would realize what a douchebag King Steve is, leave his ass in the dust and find another boyfriend but she seemed happy and he did too. 

Nancy and Steve were happy. 

Jonathan and Steve got along. 

Everyone got along, except for you and him. You hated him but god, you grew to love the fights and the bickering, you found entertainment in them. You loved pissing him off, loved teasing him, loved throwing mean words at him even when you knew that he would do the same and say something hurtful in return. 

Yes, Steve Harrington got under your skin but you got under his too. It was clear, the way his cheeks turned red and his eyes flashed with anger, he would clench his jaw and his fists before he’d turn away from you. 

“Tina is throwing a party this friday, are we going?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend and your best friend. 

“Of course, we’re going,” Steve says. 

You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him, “I wasn’t talking to you, Harrington.” 

Jonathan sighs, mumbling your name in annoyance. 

You ignored him, continuing to look into hazel eyes with a challenging look on your face. 

“Bitch,” Steve mumbles. 

“Steve!” Nancy exclaims, turning towards her boyfriend with wide eyes, “that wasn’t nice.” 

“Aw,” he shrugs, throwing his arm around her shoulder, he turns back to you, giving you a small smirk, “I’m sorry, queen y/n.” 

You scrunch your face up in annoyance, he knows you hate when people call you that. 

Rolling your eyes, you reach for the fries on your boyfriend’s plate, throwing some at the man in front of you, “shut up, asshole.” 

He dodges the fries, laughing when they hit some kid behind him. 

“Are you gonna wear one of those ugly leather jackets again?” He asks you, “they make you look cheap, y/n.” 

A laugh falls from your lips, you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, “at least I don’t let my mom buy my clothes,” you say as your eyes trail down his shirt, “seriously, have you ever stepped foot inside a store yourself? Your mommy still dresses you up like you’re some innocent little virgin.” 

His smile falls and he scoffs at you, “I’m not a virgin.” 

“I know, you’re a whore in virgin’s clothes.” 

He raises his eyebrows at you, “seriously?” He snorts, “you wanna call me a whore now?” 

You are both so caught up in each other, you don’t notice the stolen glances between your boyfriend and his girlfriend, the longing gazes, the forbidden touches between the table as they reach for the other’s hand. 

If you paid more attention, you would have noticed it a long time ago already but you were focused on other things. 

Jonathan was a loving and sweet boyfriend, you had no reason not to trust him. 

If you would’ve just known.. 

“Are we gonna go to the movies tonight?” You ask as you finally turn away from Steve and look at your boyfriend, smiling at him, you’re unable to see the guilt in his eyes. 

He blinks, coughing nervously. 

Nancy looks down at her food tray, pushing around the salad she hasn’t touched, her cheeks are red, her brows are furrowed. 

You don’t notice how weird they are both being but Steve does, it is something he hasn’t noticed before but feels like it’s always been there, the tension in Jonathan’s shoulders, the distant look in his eyes, the furrowed brows as he looks down at you. 

“Uh, shit, I-I no, I forgot to tell you, I’m taking Will to the record store tonight and he asked for a movie night,” he explains. 

Steve expects you to frown at his words, sigh sadly and mumble a quiet ‘oh’ but instead your eyes light up and you grab Jonathan’s shoulder, “oh! Can I come with you?” You ask excitedly. Steve might not know much about you except for the very obvious things but he knows how much you love spending time with Will.

“We just wanna have a boys night, next time, alright?” 

Now your smile falls, only for just a second but Steve sees it, he sees the disappointment in your eyes, the one you quickly mask with a pretentious smile, “oh that’s fine, umm I hope you’re going to have lots of fun,” you say, leaning in to kiss his cheek, he gives you a smile, one that doesn’t even reach his eyes. You lay your head on his shoulder, linking your arm with him. 

A weird feeling settles in the pit of Steve’s stomach, he leans back and stares at the man in front of him, he sees the way his eyes meet Nancy’s blue ones, it just for a split second but he sees it. 

A few months ago, he wouldn’t question it. He never had a problem with their friendship, Jonathan was her friend before he became her boyfriend and you never had a problem with their friendship either, you trusted them. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have. 

Steve doesn’t know why but he can’t shake the feeling that something is off, that things have been off for a long time now. He tells himself that he is overthinking things, that he lets his anxious thoughts get the best of him but they had only gotten worse when Nancy canceled their date after he had dropped her off at home, he was excited to take her out, he had it all planned, he would take her to dinner and movies and afterwards they’d watch the stars at lovers lake but instead he was left in the cold after she told him that she couldn’t go out with him because she had to help Mike with his homework. Mike, who was here at Benny’s diner with Will, Dustin and Lucas. 

“What the fuck,” he mumbles as he stands there, staring at them with a dumbfound expression on his face. 

Mike was clearly not in need of help for his homework and Will didn’t seem to have plans for a movie night any time soon. Someone drove them here but it wasn’t Jonathan, no, it was Eddie Munson who jumped into the empty seat next to Dustin as he held some book in his hand. 

Slowly he started piecing everything together and as he thought of all the times Nancy had canceled their dates at the same time as Jonathan had canceled yours, his stomach dropped. Those weird looks both of them shared earlier today just added to his worry. 

He forgot about the order he had placed and rushed out of the diner, ignoring the waitress who called for him when she held the bag and a drink in her hand. His mind was running wild as the worst scenarios rushed through his thoughts. 

He doesn’t even remember how he got into the car or how he drove all the way to the Wheeler’s house. His heart was racing and his hands were clenched into fists, he was nervous and the anger inside of him was already building up. 

He had suspicions but he didn’t want to dwell on them, not yet. But when he climbed up the wall to his girlfriend’s window, hoping to find her studying or listening to music, he didn’t find her doing any of those things. Instead, he caught her having sex with your boyfriend. 

He grips the wall tighter when he almost loses his footing. He can’t even stop the gasp from escaping as his eyes widen. 

His girlfriend is having sex with your boyfriend. 

Nancy is fucking Jonathan, Nancy who is your best friend.

He stares in shock, frozen in place and with a broken heart he stares at them. Jonathan’s hands are on her waist, gripping her tightly as she bounces on his cock. She bites her lip to stay quiet. 

The bile rises in his throat, he feels sick, he feels betrayed and angry. 

He turns away and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before he jumps down into the grass. He almost throws up into Karen’s beloved flowers but he holds himself together, at least for now. 

Tears brim in his eyes, he doesn’t understand. 

Why would she do this to him? 

Why would she hurt him like this? 

Why would she cheat on him? 

Why would she do this to you? 

You have always been her best friend, you grew up together, your mom’s are best friends. You have always been by her side, you have done everything for her. You could’ve chosen other friends, you could’ve been friends with other popular girls like Chrissy Cunningham but no, you stayed friends with Nancy. 

And Jonathan… Now, Steve had become friends with him when he started dating her and thought that Jonathan was actually a pretty decent guy but before that, he had always wondered why you even gave him the time of your day. You are the popular and annoyingly happy cheerleader and he is just, well, he is Jonathan. The boring freak. But then again, rumor has it that you have always liked to associate with men who weren’t anywhere near your league and apparently you liked to fuck freaks, that’s something that Steve could never believe. You were a good girl, you had that innocence in your eyes that told him that rumors were just rumors. 

For some time, Steve thought that you were playing a prank on Jonathan, that you dated him for a bet but when a year had passed and you still looked at him with those stupid heart eyes, he knew you were serious about him. 

Now he feels like throwing up, he isn’t just angry for himself, he is also angry for you. If the betrayal hurt him so much, what would it do to you? 

The moment he steps into his bathroom, he drops to his knees and pukes his lunch out. 

God, he has never felt this sick in his life before. How will he ever move on from this? 

He loves her with all his heart but he is so incredibly angry and hurt. He spends the rest of the night crying, unable to catch a moment of peace. He stares at the ceiling as he lays in his lonely bed, tears stream down his face as his mind replays the horrible things he had seen. 

What should he do? 

Should he confront them? Should he break up with her? Should he make a scene and humiliate them in front of the whole school? No, he is not like that and he wouldn’t do this to you. 

He doesn’t know what to do. So he pretends that everything is fine. 

He takes a shower, styles his hair and picks out an outfit that you won’t tease him for. He drinks his coffee and then he picks up Nancy but the moment he lays his eyes on her and she gives him that cheerful smile and kiss on the lips, he feels himself growing sick again. How could she pretend that nothing happened? How could she kiss him like this when her lips touched his last night?

The anger diminished a little only to rush back even more intensely when he was forced to greet Jonathan at school. God, he wants to punch him so hard, he has to restrain himself from doing so. Especially when he lays eyes on you. A big smile is resting on your face, your eyes are shining with happiness, your perfect ponytail is bouncing as you rush through the hallways with your pretty little cheerleader uniform. You wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s waist and lay your head on his back, “hi babe, I missed you so much last night.” 

“I missed you too, y/n,” Jonathan says as he smiles, placing his hand over yours. 

Steve grows hatred for the man and for his girlfriend when he feels her squeezing his hand. 

He can’t even stop the scoff before it falls from his lips, causing all three of you to look at him in confusion. 

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks, feigning concern. 

He nods. 

You raise your eyebrows at him, a cocky smirk tugging at your lips, “ooh, did someone had a rough night?” 

Yes and you’d be having one too if you knew that your boyfriend was buried in my girlfriend last night, Steve thinks to himself. 

He doesn’t say anything, instead he shuts his locker and turns away from the three of you, “I gotta go to class,” he mumbles without giving Nancy a goodbye kiss or Jonathan a pat on the back the way he always does. He bumps into someone, not bothering to apologize, he grumpily mutters something under his breath. 

“Who pissed in his coffee this morning?” You chuckle, missing the way Nancy and Jonathan looked at each other. 

“I- he probably got into a fight with his dad again,” Nancy says, shrugging nervously. 

You step away from Jonathan, walking towards your best friend, you take her hand in yours, “is everything alright between the two of you?” 

She blinks, looking over your shoulder and back to you, she nods, “y-yeah, totally,” she smiles, shaking her head. 

“Okay, good,” you smile, squeezing her hand, “but I’m always here for you and you can talk to me, okay?” 

She looks down, nodding at your words, “yeah, I know.” 

“Alright, well, I think we should go shopping after school, I need some new party outfits.” 

“Oh, I-I can’t, y/n. I already have an outfit and I was supposed to look after Holly today.” 

You frown at her words, a sad look flashes in her eyes.

“You are a busy girl, Nancy Wheeler.”

-

Steve was being weird, well, he was always being weird but something about him today was just off. Not only did he pay no mind to you, he also ignored Jonathan and Nancy. 

No comments were thrown your way today, no mean words, no remarks, he didn’t tease you or even glare at you. Nothing. You saw him talking to Robin Buckley when you were on your way to the bathroom. He looked like was on the verge of tears and the girl comforted him with a hand on his shoulder and words you couldn’t make out. 

Seeing him like this makes you feel weird, you don’t really care about him but you care about your friend and there’s clearly something going on between them and you are certain about that when you sit down beside Jonathan in the cafeteria. Just like yesterday, you sit across from Steve but instead of meeting his teasing eyes, you meet his angry ones, though you feel that the anger isn’t directed at you but at someone else. 

You try to ignore him and the way his gaze seems to be getting more and more intense. He watches you and Jonathan, a frown deep in his features as he watches how your boyfriend kisses you like nothing ever happened. 

You don’t know. 

You don’t know what he is doing behind your back. 

You don’t know that he is hurting you, that he is cheating on you with your best friend. 

How long have they been going behind your backs? 

Has this been happening when you were all together at parties? When you went to the lakehouse his dad owns? God, he could scream and expose their disgusting secrets to the whole school. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Nancy asks as she puts her hand on Steve’s thigh. He tenses up, clenching his jaw as he turns to look at her. 

“No, I’m not hungry, Nancy.” 

Your eyes flash with surprise, the tone in his voice was filled with anger. 

She looks taken aback, furrowing her brows at her boyfriend’s behavior, “you barely touched your food–” 

“I said I’m not hungry!” He snaps at her. 

Before any of you can even react, he gets up and storms out of the cafeteria, not caring about the prying eyes of the other students. 

You frown at his behavior, growing angry when you see the tears in Nancy’s eyes. 

“That asshole,” you mumble, getting up, you follow him out, ignoring Jonathan’s and Nancy’s calls. 

You slam the doors to the hallway open, rushing towards him with anger in your bones. 

“Steve!” 

He keeps walking, ignoring you. 

“Hey!” 

He abruptly turns around, throwing his hands up, he sighs, “what!?” 

“What?” You scoff, “what the fuck was that? Why are you being so mean?” 

He laughs at your words, closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. 

“She didn’t do anything to you, Steve.” 

“If only you knew.” 

Something about the way he said it and looked at you, sent shivers down your spine. 

Instead of the usual hatred and anger you see in his eyes, you find empathy in them. Why? It makes you nervous. 

“W-What do you mean?” You ask. 

Steve knows that you won’t believe him, you gotta see it with your own eyes, you don’t deserve this. You love Jonathan, you have always been good to him. You deserve better and he knows he does too. 

“Steve,” you mumble, “what do you mean?” 

You have got to know. You’re a smart girl, you should’ve noticed the way your best friend and boyfriend behaved around you, the way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other. 

Right now, he doesn’t hate you, he just feels sorry for you. 

“Go to Nancy’s house this afternoon.” 

“No, she– Steve!” 

He walks away before giving you an explanation, leaving you standing there like a fool. 

What is this about? 

Usually, you would never listen to him, you wouldn’t do what he had told you to do. You wouldn’t go to Nancy’s house if you didn’t have your own suspicions already, the ones that made you feel sick for the longest time. 

His seriousness and his anger is what made you feel scared. 

He wasn’t mean to you today, he didn’t even glare at you, that’s how you knew that something was very off. 

So you listened to him, you went to Nancy’s house. You didn’t want to but on the way home from the mall, you drove by her house and found Jonathan’s car in the driveway. 

Nothing weird about it right? They are friends, they are allowed to be friends. 

Yet, you can’t shake that awful feeling that something horrible is about to happen. So you park the car and make your way inside her house, using the spare key that she gave you years ago. 

The house is empty, Karen isn’t there and neither is Ted. Holly and Mike are nowhere to be seen. You don’t call out for Nancy the way you usually would. With a nervous sigh, you grip the keys tighter in your hand and climb up the stairs. 

You hear music coming from her room, The Cure. Nancy doesn’t listen to The Cure but your boyfriend does. You hear the noises, you hear them. 

With a shaky hand, you open the door and as you lay eyes on the two of them, your heart drops and a gasp falls from your lips as you raise your hand to cup your mouth. 

There he is, your boyfriend, shoving his tongue down your best friend’s throat. Both of them are half naked, her chest is covered in hickeys already, his hair is a mess, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths as she moves her hand into his pants. 

“What the fuck?” 

They jump apart when they hear your voice, staring at each other like deers caught in headlights before they look at you. 

Her blue eyes widen as do his. 

No longer do their cheeks glow red, instead they look pale when they see you standing there with tears in your eyes and anger on your face. 

“Fuck– y/n!” He scrambles to his feet, trying to find his shirt. 

Nancy looks away from you, crossing her arms over her chest, she suddenly feels too ashamed to meet your eyes. 

“You are fucking disgusting,” you mumble angrily, ignoring the heartbreak in your chest or the feeling of your throat getting tighter. The tears begin to spill and you look between them in shock. 

Jonathan takes a step towards you. 

“Don’t come anywhere near me, Byers. We’re fucking over!” 

His eyes widen, his lips part as he tries to speak but no words leave his mouth. 

“And you, fuck you, Nancy.” 

You don’t care to look back at them, rushing out of the house as quickly as you came. You wipe away the angry tears, biting down on your quivering lip as you get back in your car. 

You knew it. You’re no fool. You knew it. You just made yourself believe that you didn’t but deep down you always knew. Who were you trying to fool? It was so clear. 

Can you even feel heartbroken? You set yourself up for it when you started dating the guy who always saw her. 

-

Maybe Steve should’ve told you, maybe he shouldn’t have told you to go to her place, maybe he should’ve protected you from seeing that. But did he have a choice? You hate him, you wouldn’t have believed him, you would’ve scoffed at him and laughed in his face. 

But still, he should’ve told you. 

He shouldn’t have let you see that. 

Now he feels guilty for it, despite the ache in his chest and the betrayal he still tries to deal with, he feels guilty for not telling you. 

You are pretending to be fine when you’re not. 

You didn’t come to school on Wednesday, Thursday or today but here you are at Tina’s party, dressed in the skimpiest outfit you could find, throwing back one drink after the other, yet you don’t seem to be getting drunk but it’s only as he notices you pouring yourself coke instead of alcohol that he realizes you aren’t here to get drunk. 

You are here because you don’t want to be alone, just like him. He had a feeling that you would come, that was another reason why he came. 

The loud music is hurting his ears and the whiskey is starting to give him a headache. He places his drink on a small table. Running his hand through his messy hair, he pushes past a group of girls who begin to whisper behind his back. Nancy’s and Jonathan’s name falling from their lips. He decides to ignore it. 

His focus is on something else, you. You’re standing by the punch with Heather Holloway, giggling about something she had whispered in your ear. 

Should he talk to you? 

You down the rest of your drink and place the cup on the counter, gesturing to the stairs as you leave your friend. He decides to follow you and calls your name. 

You turn around, smile disappearing from your face when your eyes lock with his, an eye roll and a scoff is all he gets. 

He rolls his eyes too, what else did he expect, a hug? 

“Can we talk?” He has to yell for you to understand him. 

You only shake your head and continue your way up the stairs. 

“Please?” 

Once you stop in front of a door, you turn around and look up at him, “no.” You slam the door in his face, causing him to sigh. 

He leans against the wall, deciding to wait for you. 

What does he even want to say to you? Does he even want to say anything to you? 

When you walk back out, he doesn’t even give you a chance, he takes your hand in his, ignoring your protests or your light slap to his back. 

“Let go of me, Harrington!” 

“Nope,” he mumbles as he pulls you into an empty and dark room, he pushes against the wall before he turns to close and lock the door, leaving you in complete darkness. 

“What the hell do you want from me?” 

Steve frowns. 

“Shit, hold on,” he mumbles, “I can’t find the light switch.” 

“Seriously?” 

You can hear him moving around, cursing under his breath. Maybe it would’ve been funny under different circumstances, if you were locked in a room with someone other than King Steve. 

“Got it,” he mumbles as he turns on the lights. 

Your arms are crossed and a frown is on your face, lips set in a pout. 

“I uh– I heard you broke up with Jonathan?” 

You squint your eyes, “that’s what you wanna talk about? What the fuck do you really want?” 

“I should’ve told you, I shouldn’t have sent you there,” he admits in guilt, giving you a sad look. 

You scoff at his words, rolling your eyes, “yeah right, you want me to believe that, Steve?” 

“It’s the truth, I’m very sorry,” he says, “about everything. You don’t deserve this, they’re fucking assholes for doing– for you know–”

“For cheating on us?” 

He glances at you and for the first time he sees something other than hatred, empathy, you feel for him just like he feels for you but it’s obvious that you still don’t like him. 

“I-I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you,” he mumbles, “she’s been your best friend since you were kids and he–”

“Fuck them both,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. 

You are in denial about your feelings, pretending to be fine so you don’t have to confront your pain. He can see it in your eyes though, the pain they left behind. 

“When did you find out?” You ask. 

“The day before you did. I went to the diner and saw Will and Mike there and I knew that they both lied, I went to her house and.. yeah.” He can’t bring himself to say it, he doesn’t have to. You know it. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

He looks confused almost, shaking his head slightly, “you wouldn’t have believed me?” 

“You expect me to believe that that’s the reason why you didn’t just tell me?” 

“That is the reason!” 

You walk closer to him as tears well up in your eyes, “fuck you, Steve Harrington! Fuck you. You sent me there to taunt me! I know you caught them and you wanted me to catch them too, you wanted me to feel what you felt, you wanted me to suffer, you’re a fucking dick, Steve! I hate you!” 

His eyes flash with anger, he scoffs at you, clenching his jaw. 

“Go on, let it all out.” He nods. 

He might not know as well as your friends do but he can tell that you were pushing the pain back, you refused to cry over a man who cheated on you and over a best friend who betrayed you in the most hurtful way. 

You are dealing with your emotions by using him as a punching bag and he doesn’t like it, so he decides to do something else. 

“Y-You are such a–” He cuts you off by grabbing your cheeks and smashing his lips against yours, he kisses you roughly. 

Your eyes widen and you squeal in surprise. 

What the fuck? 

Steve Harrington is kissing you. 

He is kissing you and you fucking like it. Your life couldn’t have been more of a mess. First your boyfriend cheats on you with your best friend that he dated and now he is kissing you. He is supposed to hate you, he is supposed to be horrible to you but instead he is kissing you in a way you have never been kissed before. 

Fuck it. 

His lips tastes like cheery coke and he smells so fucking good. 

You throw your arms around his shoulders and close your eyes as you kiss him back. He moans against you, the sound shoots straight to your core. You move your hand into his hair, gripping it and pulling his perfectly styled hair. 

His hands slide down to your waist and he pushes you further into the room without breaking the kiss that grows heavier by the second. He grabs your ass, squeezing it tightly with his large hands, earning a moan from you. Steve smirks against your lips as he presses himself against you. 

“S-Steve,” you whimper as you break the kiss, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You ask the man you are supposed to hate. 

He presses another kiss to your lips before he pulls away, staring at you with his hazel eyes that hold both pain and anger, “why do they get to have all the fun?” 

You swallow nervously, you hate him, you hate him so much and yet you find yourself longing for him, for his touch, for his lips. 

He leans in again but you push him back weakly. 

“No,” you whisper, “I hate you.” 

“Yeah?” He rasps against your lips, “feeling’s mutual, honey. That’s okay, we don’t have to like each other, right?”

You blink, shrugging, your eyes flicker down to his lips, “I-I guess not.” 

“You can mark me up, show her who fucked me,” he tells you as he pushes you down onto the soft bed, playing with the hem of your skirt, “you can let your anger out on me, I don’t mind.” 

“You really wanna fuck me?” You ask as you chase after his lips, kissing them almost a little too softly. 

“Fuck yes, I do,” he murmurs as he latches his lips onto your neck, spreading your legs so he can settle in between them, “I wanna rip your skimpy little clothes off, make you scream my name.”

His lips are soft yet rough as he marks your neck, he sucks and bites on your skin, squeezing your waist tightly with his hands as he grinds his clothed dick against your aching cunt. 

“What makes you think that I’ll scream your name?” You ask, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows as you moan at the feeling of him. God, you can already tell that he is big.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he says in a way that sends shivers down your spine, your pussy clenches around nothing. 

“Do it then because he never could.” 

A smirk grows on his face. 

“You wanna fuck me to get back at him?” You ask, “do it then.” 

Before you know it, he rips your top off, throwing it over his shoulder before your bra joins it on the floor. Lust fills his eyes and his cheeks flush red when he sees your nipple piercings, “holy fuck,” he mumbles, staring at you with a dumbfound expression as he grabs your boobs, touching your sensitive nipples with his fingers, “shit… the good little cheerleader has her nipples pierced?” 

You look up at him with a pleading look in your eyes, moaning as he continues to roll your nipples. You grab his hand, bringing it up to your face, you wrap your lips around his thumb and begin to suck on it. 

His eyes widen yet again, pants growing tighter as his cock hardens in his tight jeans.

“Fuck, you’re a little freak aren’t you?” He smirks darkly, “Byers couldn’t handle all of that, huh? Guess he wasn’t the freak after all, it was you.” 

He really couldn’t. It was only ever lazy sex with him, sloppy blowjobs and making love. You didn’t want to make love, you wanted to be fucked like a whore. 

You shake your head at him and spread your legs, letting your skirt slide up. 

“Shut up and fuck me before I find someone else.” 

“Shit,” he mumbles as his eyes fall on your lacy red underwear, your already soaked underwear, it makes his dick twitch in his pants. 

“You shut up, princess. I’m not letting anyone fuck you, you’re mine tonight.” 

He drops to his knees in front of you, grabbing your ankles, he slides his hand up to your thigh, teasing you by rubbing your clit over your panties. 

“Look at you, your panties are soaked,” he teases, smirking at the way you bite your lip to stop the moans from falling. He grabs the thin material, ripping it off and throwing it on the ground. 

Your eyes widen and you lean on your elbows, staring at him with a disapproving look on your face. The panties that you had bought a few days ago are now on the floor, ripped apart. 

“Steve–”

He presses a teasing kiss on your clit, smirking when you whine at his action. 

“You’re so fucking wet, honey. Is that all for me? I thought you hated me.” 

“God, fucking shut up and d–” He cuts you off, gripping your hips tighter, he licks up stripe up your pussy, moaning at your taste, “you shut up,” he mumbles before he buries his face in your cunt. Nudging his nose against your aching clit as he slips his tongue inside of you. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper as you slap your hand over your mouth, not wanting to give the satisfaction that he is making you moan. 

He grunts against you, sliding his hand up your body, he cups your boob and tugs at your nipple, earning a gasp from you. 

“Steve!” 

“Hand off your mouth, y/n,” he says, glaring at you with dark eyes, “let me hear your moans.” 

You roll your eyes and put your hand down. 

“Good girl.” He mumbles, eyes twinkling with mischief when he sees your flustered expression, he feels you clench around his fingers as he pushes two inside of you, “fuck, you’re tight, how am I gonna fit inside of you?” 

His words cause you to roll your eyes again, he will never stop being cocky. 

Moans and whimpers echo through the room when he begins to eat you out, switching his fingers with his tongue as he grabs your ass and holds you even tighter than before when you begin to squirm beneath him. 

You reach down, gripping his hair and pulling at it. 

“F-Fuck, Steve….” You whine. Tears blur your vision, your muscles tense and your back arches in pleasure, “d-don’t stop, Steve, please don’t stop,” you breathe as you feel his tongue on your clit again and his fingers back in your pussy. 

He moans against you, mumbling praises you cannot focus on. 

King Steve is eating your pussy like his life is depending on it and he moans like a slut while doing so. Palming himself as he tastes you on his tongue and listens to you falling apart for him. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper as you hold his hair tighter, “please, I’m so close.” 

“Yeah? You wanna cum for me? Do it, honey, do it.” 

You let go, pushing away all the thoughts that are telling you how wrong this is, you cum hard and he moans and continues to lick you, his eyes roll back, he enjoys every fucking second of this. 

“I haven’t even fucked you and your legs are already shaking.” 

You open your eyes to look at him, your chest rises up and down heavily, sweat coating your forehead already, you swallow, pushing yourself up, you get on your hands and knees and crawl towards him, watching as he takes his shirt off. You grab him by his belt and pull him in. 

You look up at him through hooded eyes, your hair is a mess, your skin is hot, you’re half naked, the only item left on you is your skimpy little skirt, he wants to fuck you while you are wearing it. 

“Can I suck your cock?” You ask, sliding your hand up his body, “I love sucking cock.” 

His eyes widen and he almost chokes on his spit, how can you look at him so innocently and speak such filthy words? 

“I-I… huh?” 

Nancy was different, sure she sucked him off but she didn’t really seem to be excited to do it, you though? You want it, for your own pleasure. 

“You love sucking cocks?” 

The look on his face almost makes you giggle, almost. 

“Mhmm.” 

“How many cocks have you sucked before?” He asks in curiosity. 

You unbuckle his belt slowly, eying all the moles on his skin, his chest hair, his toned arms, the growing mustache. Steve is hot. Has he always been this hot?  

“Take your pants off, Steve.” 

“Answer the question first and then I’ll take them off.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Before Jonathan? Just two.” 

“Oh, who was it?” 

“Take your pants off and I’ll tell you.” 

He takes them off instantly, kicking his shoes off and throwing his pants somewhere. 

“Well the first guy… you don’t know him, I met him when I went to visit a friend in Chicago,” you shrug. 

He raises his brows, nodding, “the second guy?” 

A smirk grows on your face, you lick your lips and place your hand on his dick, rubbing your palm over his boxers. He shudders, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he moans. 

“Eddie Munson.” 

His eyes widen at your admission, lips parting in surprise, “w-what? Eddie Munson, th-the f–”

“Yes, Eddie Munson!” You snap, not letting him finish the sentence. “I sucked him off in the bathroom after lunch break, Jason Carver was being mean to him and I felt bad for him.” 

“So you cheered him up by sucking his dick?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he's jealous. 

“Yeah, I mean who wouldn’t want to get his dick sucked by the head cheerleader?” You giggle, “he really liked it, came back for more.” 

“And then what?” 

You lean closer and kiss his hip bone and his stomach, trailing your lips up to his chest until you're kneeling on the bed in front of him, placing your hand on his chest and your lips on his neck, you kiss his neck the way he did to you earlier. 

“He fucked me in his van, in the bathroom at school, in the janitor’s closet, behind the bleachers, he fucked me hard.” 

Steve moans, he feels your cold piercing against his skin, his hand slide down to your waist. 

“I bet you can’t fuck me the way he did.” You murmur as you lean back down again, tugging at his boxers, you slide them down his legs and you gasp. His cock slaps against his stomach, pre cum leaking from his tip. 

“Oh.” Is all you manage to say as you stare at his cock. Suddenly you look intimidated, your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen, “t-that’s not gonna fit.” 

Steve chuckles darkly, gripping your jaw, he caresses your cheek, “oh, we’ll make it fit, honey.” 

“You still wanna suck it?” He asks.

You nod, whining when he puts his hand on your head, guiding you towards him. 

“It’s all yours.” 

You wrap your much smaller hand around his dick, stroking him a few times before you begin to tease him with your tongue, swirling it around the tip, you close your eyes and enjoy the sound of his moans.

“O-Oh fuck,” he murmurs. Gripping your hair tightly, he looks down at you, watching as you take more of him, his cock disappearing in your mouth, inch by inch until it hits the back of your throat. 

“Jesus fuck….” 

“Mhmmm,” you moan around him, hollowing your cheeks as you begin to suck him off. 

“Shit, stop…” He whines, tugging at your hair, “I’m not gonna last if you do that, I-I need to cum inside of you.” 

You don’t listen to him, instead you continue to suck him off eagerly, moaning and whimpering in pleasure, you arch your back, cupping his balls–

“Fuck!” He whimpers, basically shoving you off of him, “you little slut, I said I’m not gonna last.” 

You pout at him, “but I want to taste you too.” 

He stares at you bewildered. What the fuck? He never thought you would be like this but god, does he love it. 

“Later,” he says as he pushes you down and crawls on top of you, cupping your cheeks, his nose brushes against yours, “taste yourself instead,” he smirks before he kisses you again. 

The kiss is nothing near soft, it’s rough and needy. Your teeth clash, your tongues meet and you both moan and groan desperately. He pushes your skirt up higher, wrapping your legs around his waist, he takes his aching cock in his hand, sliding it between your slick folds, causing you both to moan. 

“Please, please… Fuck me, Steve. Make me feel something, please.” 

You beg and you plead, you arch your back and you pull him closer. He looks at you, truly looks at you for the first time. You’re beautiful, pretty, cute. You’re cute, even as you lay there looking up at him like a needy whore. He furrows his brows, watching the way your lips part, your pretty eyes staring into his, your soft hand touches his shoulder. 

What is he doing? 

What has he been doing all this time? 

“I got you, fuck, I got you.” 

He concentrates on you, on the look on your face as he pushes inside of you for the very first time. 

You whine and you bit your lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. You raise your head, looking down, you watch how his cock disappears in your pussy. Tears spring to your eyes as he stretches you open. 

“Poor baby, can’t take my big cock huh?” He teases with a smirk on his face that quickly falls again when you clench around him, causing him to stop moving, “f-fuck.” 

“Keep moving, Steve, please.”

He leans down, burying his face in your neck, he finally pushes all the way in. He says your name so filthily, it only makes you clench around him again. 

He curses at you as he begins to move, pushing himself back up again, he places both his hands beside you. 

“Pound my pussy, Steve, ruin me.” 

He smirks at your words and pulls out, looking down to see his glistening cock pushing back into your tight hole again. It makes his stomach flutter. 

“Such a good fucking pussy.” 

“Mhmm, you’re big, biggest cock I've ever had.” 

He only gives you a cocky grin in return. He knows he’s big. 

He grabs your boobs roughly and finally, he begins to fuck you like you wanted him too. 

“Ah– Steve, fuck… don’t stop!” 

He begins to pound your pussy in the most disrespectful way possible, squelching noises and your whines echo through the room. He watches your fucked out expression, he watches the way your pretty face scrunches up in pleasure, the way your screw your eyes shut. All you can do is moan and whimper and all he can do is stare at you in awe. 

He presses his hand on your lower stomach, pushing down on it, “you feel me, baby?” He asks, kissing your lips, “you feel my cock inside of you?” 

You nod, whimpering pathetically. 

You feel him, you feel him everywhere. His cock is splitting you open so perfectly, fucking you in a way only a man can. 

“Byers is a fucking idiot, stupid boy doesn’t know how to handle a woman,” he grunts as he thrusts into your roughly, “he’s fucking missing out. Shit baby, you’ve got the most perfect little pussy, so fucking tight and wet for me.” 

“S-Steve…” 

“I’m gonna fucking cum inside of you, gonna breed that little pussy and make you mine, gonna fill you up with my cum, over and over again until you’re f-fucking pregnant, gonna show those fuckers what they missed.” 

“P-Please,” you moan. 

“You’d like that huh? You’d love to get pregnant by the guy you hate?” 

“Mhmm,” you whine, you reach for his hands, dragging them up to your neck, “choke me, daddy.” 

His eyes widen and he fucking whimpers, his dick is throbbing inside of you and you know he is close. 

“God, you’re fucking filthy,” he grunts, wrapping his hands around your throat, “call me that again.” 

“Daddy.” 

He fucks you harder, rougher, faster and deeper. He wants you, he needs you. He is desperate for you. 

You put your hands around his wrists, looking up at him through the tears, “harder.” 

He gives you what you want, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You move your hips, meeting his thrusts. Tears stream down your face and you can no longer hold the sobs in. 

“Cum inside of me, Steve.” 

Your walls flutter around him and his hold on you tightens, “y-you really want me to cum inside of you–”

“Please, I need it!” 

His hips stutter and he can no longer hold back, he slams his lips against yours, moving one hand down, his fingers graze your sensitive nipples for a moment, he touches your stomach, your hips and then his fingertips find your clit, rubbing fast circles on it. He listens to the way your moans grow high pitched as you cum around him. 

“I’m cumming, f-fuck,” he murmurs against your lips as he spills inside of you, coating your walls with his seed. 

You both whimper in pleasure. He continues to thrust in and out of you slowly, for a moment and then he slumps against you, letting go of your throat and letting his face fall against your chest, his throbbing cock still inside of you. 

You both need a moment to calm down from this. 

Surprisingly, Steve doesn’t push off of you and pretend like nothing happened. He just continues to lay there, on your chest, tracing your skin with his rough hands. 

And you, you play with his hair, not a single thought of your ex boyfriend or your best friend. All you think about is Steve. How good he made you feel, how pretty he looked when he ate your pussy, how he kissed you, how he smells. 

“I think you almost fucked the hate I have for you out of me.” 

He snorts at you, “wow, very romantic.” 

“Oh we’re being romantic now?” 

He looks up at you, “I mean, I’m still inside of you and you are playing with my hair so yeah.” 

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes but are unable to fight the smile off your face. 

He grins, “no one ever called me daddy.” 

“Someone else will call you daddy in 9 months if you don’t get me the morning after pill.” 

You almost expect him to grow pale but instead he laughs nervously.

“Babies can’t talk, honey.” 

“Huh?” 

“You said in 9 months, are you telling me newborns can speak now?” 

“I was joking!” You mumble. 

“Mhmm, sure you were,” he chuckles. 

For a moment, the room is filled with silence. All you hear is the sound of the music from the party, the laughter and the loud voices. The smell of sex lingers in the room, the smell of him lingers on you. 

“You know what? I think we should’ve done that a long time ago,” Steve admits, “in fact I think we should do it again.” 

You smirk at him, “to get back at them or because you just wanna be called daddy again?” 

For a moment, his face grows serious and he finds himself staring at you longingly, “I just wanna do it again, not to get back at them, fuck them.” 

“Let’s do it then,” you whisper, “but take me home first.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

A week ago, you would’ve laughed if someone told you that this would happen. That you would break up with your cheating boyfriend, lose a best friend you had known since childhood and fuck the man you hated half of your life. 

Yet here you are, letting Steve Harrington help you get dressed, letting him steal kisses, letting him slap your ass on the way out. 

You walked into his room hating him and you walked out of here, well, hating him a little less.

You both got betrayed by people you loved, deeply. You lost them but at least you had found each other.  

In a perfect world you would be together. 

Maybe this can be a perfect world after all.

-

tagging some faves @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting

[ruewrote]

𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑟𝑦.

PAIRING: s10!carlgallagher x fem!reader WARNINGS: creep men, sexual harrassment, swearing GENRE: angst to fluff SONG INSPIRATION: nice 2 know ya by sylendanna WORD COUNT: 631 REQUESTED: yes

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you didn’t really go out all that often, you are what they call a homebody, but you had a hard time telling carl no so that’s how you ended up sitting in his lap in the alibi. with a coke in hand, kevin only just remembered you weren’t old enough to drink.

carl's arms wrapped around your waist as he talked to the locals about random shit, you didn’t pay too much attention to it as you leaned into his touch, your head pressed against his shoulder, your fingers tracing small patterns over his with a dreamy smile on your lips.

“oh to be young and in love!” kevin smiles at the two of you before walking away taking someone's drink order down.

carl turned back and smiled down at you,  lightly tapping your thigh, “i gotta go piss,” he whispered into your ear like it was some secret, making you giggle as you slid off of his lap watching him quickly make his way into the men’s bathroom.

shaking your head to yourself, turning your attention to the cherries in your drink, stirring them around with your straw. your leg bouncing, waiting impatiently for him to get back, social anxiety slowly creeping back in on you whilst you were alone.

“well aren’t you a pretty little thing?” a voice speaks beside you, a little too close for comfort, so you turned your head around in it’s direction.

“a pretty little thing that’s taken, so fuck off.” you voice back, normally you wouldn’t be this rude, but in all honesty you just wanted to be left alone, especially by this piece of shit.

“ooh she's feisty!” 

“dude, so not cool leave her alone or get out of my bar!” kevin sternly stated, as he pointed to the door, the guy continued spewing disgusting things in your ear which just made you get up to get carl and go, but as soon as you stood he grabbed a handful of your ass.

which made you forcefully push him away from you, clearly violated you wrapped your arms around yourself as you back away from him. it was a blur as carl protectively pushed you behind him, then grabbed the man up by the collar, punching him repeatedly until he had him on the floor.

tommy let him get his hits in before pulling carl off of the beaten man who was now barely conscious.

ripping himself out of tommy’s grip, pointing at the bloodied creep who was barely sitting up on the floor, “i will kill you if you even think to look at her again, do i make myself clear?” carl shouts at him, the guy frantically nods then runs out of the building.

carl's breath ragged as adrenaline ran through him, his fists still clenched as he eyed everyone around him realising the whole building had gone silent, it didn’t take long for everyone to go back to normal, drinking and playing pool, but all he was concerned about was you.

turning back around, pulling you into his arms making sure he was gentle with you, “i'm so sorry, sweetheart.” his words were soft as he held you, tears stung your eyes. but you were just glad he was with you.

he backed away just enough for his shaky hands to be pressed to your cheeks, giving you a small smile making one of your own appear.

“yeah, just wanna go home,” 

and you did. 

spending the night in the gallagher home trying to find ways to make it up to him even with the amount of reassurance he gave you, you persisted and he gave in. you made him ice his bruised knuckles, both cooking dinner for everyone, spending the rest of the night cuddling and kissing in his bed.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[supernaturalgirl20]

Hey! Your writing is stellar!

Could you possibly write about Joel and reader hating each others guts, but something like Joel almost dying brings the feelings out reader never realized. (Like angsty almost dying lol). she takes care of him and he sees how he does actually love her. It’s ends with them together. Vague i know haha.

Thank you!! xoxo

Thank you so much and I adored this request 🥰changed it up a little Hope you enjoy 😉

The Reason

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, soft love making, near fatal accident, mentions of death, hidden feelings, enemies to lovers (sorta), angst, cursing, fluff.

A/N: slowly getting back to writing this week so please bear with me on the requests. Didn't edit this so sorry for any mistakes.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Anger bubbled under the surface of your skin as you stood with your back against the door of the stables. The sound of his voice echoed through the air as he berated Tommy for asking you to join them. 

Who does he think he is? You think to yourself as you listen to him criticise you to his brother. Joel Miller was a force to be reckoned with and he had zero tolerance for anyone in the Jackson community except for you. Or at least you’d thought so, now you weren’t so sure. 

There was one night after a rough patrol where he’d shared a few drinks with you, and he’d opened up about his past. You had thought for a moment that maybe he liked you. Maybe you both could become friends or more, but now, you’re sure he hates you. 

“Now why the hell did you go and ask her to come with us? You know darn well that I ain’t gonna be able to concentrate with her there. Damn it, Tommy, I ain’t gonna be able to keep them both safe.”

With clenched fists you turned the corner and stormed towards him, his eyes widening when he spots you. “Who the hell do you think you are, Miller? Huh? Telling Tommy you don’t want me to come. It doesn't matter what you want, I’m the most experienced shot this place has so I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Now I’m coming on this run whether you like it or not.” You huffed out a breath as you poked his chest with your finger, looking up at him with an angry expression on your face. 

“So, saddle up, cowboy.” You push him back slightly before grabbing your horse and marching out of the stables, leaving both Miller brothers confused as they stared after you. 

“About time you grew a pair Joel and told her the truth about how you feel. Save all this bickering. I mean it’s obvious as shit that you have feelings for her, so just man the fuck up.” Tommy says as he pats him on the back. 

Ellie scoffs behind them drawing both of their attention to her. She looks up and shrugs her shoulders at them. “Gotta say I agree with Tommy on this one. Life would be a lot easier if you just told her. Hell, it’s so fucking obvious she feels the same and I swear you two are just like horny fucking teenagers.”

“Alright enough! First of all, language,” he snaps as he points a finger in Ellie’s direction. “Secondly, what is this anyhow? Gang up on Joel day?” His gaze drifts between the pair and they smile at each other before they shrug, and Tommy says his goodbyes. 

“Alright, let’s get this shit show on the road,” Ellie teases as she winks at Joel and follows you outside. 

Joel watches her leave, his hands resting on his hips as he closes his eyes briefly and takes in a deep breath. This was gonna be a long trip. 

***

Things had gone to shit when you came across a group of raiders in a nearby abandoned town. They had wanted all of your supplies as well as you and Ellie but Joel was having none of it. 

He’d become a different man in the blink of an eye. A violent one and you can’t say it didn’t turn you on. He’d killed them all or at least so you’d thought until one of them had snuck up behind him and tackled him to the ground. 

They tussled for a moment before Joel straddled him and beat him to the ground. When he stood, he turned around to face you, his breathing ragged as he flexed his hands, his knuckles were bruised and bloody. His gaze drifted away from you towards Ellie who was busy collecting weapons. 

You let your gaze drift down his torso, and you gasped at the sight of a knife protruding from his abdomen. 

“Joel!” The sound of your worried voice catches his attention and his gaze flickers towards you. He follows your line of sight and groans when he sees the knife. His hand wraps around the hilt and pulls, blood spurting out from the wound, and he stumbles slightly as he throws the knife into the ground. 

“Let’s go.” His voice is commanding, leaving no room for argument. “Ellie,” you shout, “we gotta go.” You tilt your head towards her horse and rush over to help Joel up onto your own, placing him at the front. 

“Joel’s been hurt. We gotta find somewhere to lay low for a while.” You jump up behind Joel wrapping your arms around his waist as you grab the reins. 

You travel at a slow pace. Trying hard not to jostle him around too much but he’s losing a lot of blood, and fast. His head droops to the side, then his whole-body leans to the right and you try to catch him but you can’t hold his weight so he falls off the horse. 

“Ellie, stop!” you shout as you hop off the horse and check on him. He’s passed out. It almost appears as if he’s dead, but you run your fingers along his neck and check for a pulse. 

It’s there. 

Faint, but there and you let out a sigh of relief. Turning your gaze to Ellie you see the unshed tears in her eyes as she stares down at Joel. “He’s gonna be ok. I need you to help me lift him back onto the horse. Those houses over there,” you say with a tilt of your head.��

“We’ll stop there for now. Try to close over his wound.” She nods at you before helping you lift him. It’s a struggle but you manage all the same and you take a hold of the reins as you guide the horse along the trail. A silent prayer recited in your head that he’d be ok, that he’d make it through this. 

***

Joel is laying on the mattress you’d found as Ellie rips off a piece of cloth to hold over his wound. He groans loudly and you drop to your knees beside him pushing Ellie out of the way and putting pressure on his abdomen. He writhes in pain for a moment before he grabs your hand. 

“Leave.” He rasps, his breathing becoming more laboured with each breath. You shake your head as you continue to put pressure on the wound. 

“Leave. Go north…. Tommy,” his grip on your hand tightens and you finally meet his gaze. “No. I’m not leaving you. Don’t - don’t ask that of me…. I can’t.”

His skin is clammy and pale, and your heart feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t lose him. Not now. 

“Ellie.” Your gaze drifts towards the teenager and she’s standing still, face full of worry as she stares down at Joel. “Ellie,” you shout, grabbing her attention. 

“You need to go and look for medical supplies. Bandages, gauze, needle and thread, anything. Now, Ellie.”

She looks down at Joel one last time before she rushes up the stairs. He groans again, his eyes full of pain as he stares up at you shivering. 

You pull his jacket up over him before cupping his cheek in your hand. “You’re gonna make it through this. I promise.”

You stand up and quickly move across the room to grab your bag, rifling through it until you find what you're looking for. Pills in hand you pull out a bottle of water and drop to your knees again.

Gently, you lift his head and place the tablets in his mouth before bringing the bottle of water to his lips. “Drink. These will help with the pain.”

He obeys with a groan, swallowing the pills before you rest his head back on the mattress. “I gotta clean this, Joel. I’m gonna…. I gotta clean the wound, ok?”

He nods his head, his body trembling as he shivers uncontrollably. You pop open the bottle of alcohol and take a deep breath before you remove the jacket and lift his shirt. 

Your hand shakes slightly as you stare at his stomach for a moment - the wound bloody and bruised and jagged looking - before you snap out of it and pour the alcohol over it, causing him to hiss in pain. 

“I know, I know…. I’m sorry.” You turn your head at the sound of Ellie’s footsteps coming down the stairs. “I found this,” she says as she hands you a needle and thread. Her eyes widen at the sight of his stomach, and you cradle her cheek in your hand. 

“He’s gonna be ok. I promise you. Now I need you to hold him down because this is gonna hurt like hell.” She nods her head and rushes around to kneel beside Joel, placing her hands on his shoulders. 

His eyes stare up at her and he gives her a faint smile before his gaze drifts to you again. You pull the thread through the needle and tie it off before sterilising it with the alcohol. You meet his gaze and nod before taking a deep breath and pushing the needle through his skin. 

He groans loudly, reaching his hand up to grab at your arm. He turns his head away from you, shutting his eyes tightly as he tries to hold in his cries, Ellie pushing down on him to stop him from moving. 

The needle falls to the floor once you’ve finished sewing him up and you sit back on the ground staring at your shaking hands. They were covered in blood. His blood and the fact that you could’ve lost him today stirs something inside you. 

Feelings that you didn’t think you had. Not for him. Sure, you thought he was handsome, that he was a good father to Ellie, but he hated you. So, you hated him. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself. 

It was all too much. These feelings, and the way he was looking up at you made your chest hurt. Standing, you rush up the stairs and out of the house, trying to take deep breaths. 

“He is asking for you.” Ellie’s voice startles you and you whip your head around taking her in. 

“I’m just gonna check the other houses for medicine. I’ll be back.” She takes a step forward but you shake your head. “I just need a minute, ok? Tell him I’ll be back.”

***

You’d taken your time, routing through the other abandoned houses trying to stall time as best as you could until you sort through your feelings. 

It became clear around the fifth house that you had maybe always loved Joel Miller, you were just too stubborn to notice. It was also in that house you’d found some penicillin. 

The creak of the stairs alerted Ellie to your presence, and she turned quickly, gun pointed in your direction. With a sigh of relief, she lowered it and stood, taking a glance at Joel before meeting you. 

“He was worried about you. Tried to go after you but I wouldn’t let him. He’s asleep now but he keeps shaking and I think he has a slight fever.” 

With a nod of your head, you brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. “There’s some canned food in the kitchen, you should head on up and get something to eat. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

“Ok, I’m starving. Want me to get you some?” 

“I’m ok for now. Just don’t make too much noise. We don’t know if there are others in the area.” You let her go and turn your attention to Joel, who is laying in the same spot, shivering despite the heavy coat and blanket covering him. 

You run your fingers through his hair, and he groans at the feeling of your touch. Pulling away you reach for the bottled water and grab one of the antibiotics before gently stirring him awake. 

“Hmm,” he groans as his eyes slowly open, glossed over in pain as you smile softly down at him. “Hey, I’ve got some antibiotics. They should kill any infection even if they are out of date.”

Joel lifts his head enough for you to place the pill in his mouth and help him take a sip of water. Swallowing the pill, he drops back onto the mattress and looks up at you longingly. 

“Was worried…thought somethin’…couldn’t live without you….” His hand reaches out towards you as he traces the soft curve of your face. The feel of his rough calloused fingers on your skin sets your heart racing. 

“I’m ok. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me. I learned from the best,” you say with a laugh as you nervously meet his gaze. 

“I’m gonna get us some food, I'll be right….” You start to say but he shakes his head. 

“No. Stay. Please.” His eyes are wide as he begs you to stay, shuffling around on the mattress as he tries to make room for you. 

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in question. He pats the space beside him indicating that he wants you to lay with him. 

“What if I hurt you?” You ask as your eyes drift to his blood-stained shirt. “Won’t,” he breathes out as his eyes begin to droop closed. He’s still shivering slightly, and his skin still looks pale and clammy and you don’t have the heart to say no. 

With a reluctant sigh, you remove your jacket and slip in beside him, making sure you’re both covered by the blankets. His arm is wrapped around you as you rest your head on his chest and the soft beating rhythm of his heart lulls you to sleep.

***

“No….no please not her….can’t lose her….no, no…” Joel muttered in his sleep as his head tossed around, his grip on your waist tightening. 

He was having a nightmare. 

Sitting up a little, you gently place your hand on his cheek, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into the rough surface of his face. “Joel,” you whisper, trying to wake him without startling him. 

“Hey, Joel, it's ok. Wake up.” His eyes snap open and he panics until his gaze lands on you and his breathing slowly calms. 

You gaze down at him with a soft smile on your face as you continue to rub his cheek. “You were having a nightmare. Are you ok?”

His eyes take in the features of your face as the moonlight shines through the small window of the basement. “M’fine. Thought I - thought I lost you ....” He trails off as he slowly realises what he’s saying. 

His face has a little more colour to it and you swear you see the hint of a blush on his cheeks. 

“I’m here. I’m fine. It was just a bad dream, probably induced by the fever,” you giggle as you place the back of your hand on his forehead. “Seems to have broken, finally.”

“I know you heard what I said to Tommy.” He says matter of factly. “I know you think that I hate you….”

“It’s fine, Joel. You don’t have to explain anything. That’s just life. You like some people, you hate others. It is what it is.” His eyes furrow as he looks up at you, a confused look taking over the features of his face. 

“I don’t hate you. Never have. Don’t think I ever could. It's a bit hard to hate someone you’re in love with.” 

“What?!” You stutter nervously, your eyes blinking rapidly as you swallow the lump in your throat. 

“I love you darlin’. It’s the reason I didn’t want you to come on this run. I’m distracted when you’re out on patrol with me, I knew I’d be the same with this, it’s why I begged Tommy to reconsider letting you tag along. M’sorry if I ever made you feel like I hated you, 'cause I don't.”

You don’t know what to say. The words won’t form in your mind as you stare down at him in shock. He loves you. Your heart thrums loudly in your ears and you think for a moment that you’re gonna pass out. 

“You alright, darlin?” The sound of his Texan drawl, soft and low, breaks you from your trance. 

“Hmm? M’fine. I-I think I love you too.” His eyebrow quirks as a smile edges its way onto his face. “You think?” He teases. 

You nudge him in the chest, and he groans, holding his side and you panic you’ve hurt his stitches. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry Joel. I completely forgot,” you rush out, voice panicked as you lift his shirt to check. 

The sound of his laughter pulls your gaze up towards him. “Oh, for god's sake,” you huff as you turn and begin to push yourself off the mattress. His hand reaches out to grab your wrist, pulling you back into him. 

“M’sorry, darlin’. Couldn’t resist.” His hand slips up along your curves and settles on your face, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes flicker briefly to your lips, and you unconsciously lick along your bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth. 

“Will you two just kiss already? Jesus.” Ellie’s voice sounds from the top of the stairs. You both burst into laughter before he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

His lips are a little rough, the feel of them against your own causing a shiver to work its way down your spine. He still tastes of whiskey he had earlier, and you want nothing more than push him down and fuck him into the mattress but you don’t. Instead, you pull away and rest your head against his, calming your racing heart. 

“We should get some rest,” you breathe raggedly as you blink down at him. 

Nodding his head, he kisses you softly once more before laying back on the mattress and pulling you with him, wrapping you up in his arms. “G’night, darlin’.” 

***

The gates open and Tommy comes rushing out with a worried expression on his face. “What the hell happened?” He asks, his gaze drifting from Joel to you as he waits for someone to tell him. 

“Long story,” Joel answers as he looks over at Ellie, a silent communication happening between them. Tommy huffs in frustration. “You’ve been gone for days. We thought - we thought you’d been killed or worse. Fuck!”

Joel slowly hops off the horse and makes his way towards his brother, clapping his hand on his back. “We’re alright, Tommy. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about. We’re just tired. Gonna need some more sleep and a decent meal.” 

Tommy nods his head, his eyes drifting to both you and Ellie. “Sure. How about you all head home and I’ll have Jason drop the food over.”

“That sounds amazin’ little brother. You’re just gonna have to have Jason drop Y/N’s food over to my place.”

Tommy's face freezes in shock before a sly smirk plays across his face. “Oh yeah. Somethin’ happen while you were out there?” He asks Joel, his voice almost a whisper so only he could hear. 

“Gentlemen never kiss and tell, Tommy. You should know that.” He smacks him on the back hard, winking at him before he turns and grabs his horse. Tommy knew something had happened from the slight blush on your cheeks. He’d get it out of Joel eventually. 

***

The room had been filled with silence as you all ate the dinner that Jason had brought over. The only sound to be heard was that of your forks and knives scraping off the plate. 

God, you hadn’t realised how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nose. The loud growl of your stomach made Joel smile as he finished setting the table. 

“Fuck that was good,” Ellie says as she sits back in the chair, hands resting on her now full stomach. 

“Manners,” Joel chastises as he pushes his plate away from him. 

“She’s not wrong though,” you say with a smile as you place your knife and fork on the plate and release a contented sigh. Joel hums in response as he lets his gaze wander over you both. 

He never thought he’d have this again. A normal life. A steady home. A family. Now that he does have it, he’s not too keen on letting it go. With the clearing of his throat, he throws Ellie a look, his eyes shifting towards the front door, and it only takes her a second to realise what he’s saying. 

“I’m gonna go meet up with Dina. Don’t wait up ya old fart.” She says with a laugh as she grabs her coat and slams the door behind her. 

“So…I guess I’ll help clear up and then I’ll let you get some rest.” You stand, the chair scraping across the floor as you grab your plate and make your way into the kitchen. 

You turn the tap on and begin to wash up when a set of arms wrap around you from behind. You startle. A soft gasp slips past your lips as Joel turns you slowly in his arms. 

You gulp nervously as you stare up at those golden-brown orbs. Your heart beats frantically at the feel of his touch. “Was thinkin’ maybe you could stay the night. I’ll make you pancakes and coffee in the morning.” 

His eyes are hopeful as he waits for you to say something. “Are you trying to seduce me, Miller?” You tease as your arms come to rest on his chest. Your fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. 

“Is it workin’?” He says with a smile, his arms pulling you closer. 

“Maybe. Might need you to kiss me though, to make sure.” A smile plays across his face as he leans in and kisses you softly. You tease his bottom lip with your tongue, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips as he grinds into you. 

His cock hardens against you, and he groans when you run your hand down along his stomach and under the waistband of his jeans, cupping him with your hand.

“Fuck,” he breathes as he pulls away, forehead resting on yours. You run your fingers along the back of his neck and through his hair. “Need you,” you whisper into the shell of his ear, and he shivers. 

“Jesus, darlin’. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grabs your hand from his trousers and leads you out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards his bedroom, where he kicks the door closed behind him as he walks you back towards his bed. 

He’s hungry for you. His eyes were blown wide with lust and you’re sure he’d have ravaged you by now if it weren’t for the fact that he’s healing. 

You pull him in for another kiss and let your hands glide over him as you begin to unbutton his shirt. Throwing it onto the floor before starting on his trousers. 

His rough calloused fingertips glide along your skin as he helps you remove your clothes, your breath hitching as they slip between your slick folds. 

You gasp. His mouth swallows the moan that follows as he kisses you softly. Pulling back his eyes trail over your naked form and when your gazes meet, you see nothing but adoration in those brown eyes you love so much. 

“How do you - how do you want to do this?” You ask as his hands grab onto the soft flesh of your ass. “Better take it slow for now. Don’t wanna burst a stitch,” he says with a smile in his voice. “Lay on your side, darlin’.” 

Doing as he says, you lay on your side, his warmth filling all your senses as he slips in behind you. You let out a breathy moan as his fingers delve into your heat once more, his hardened cock nestled snugly between your ass cheeks.  

“Oh fuck,” you whimper as he works his thick digits in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly as he hits that spot that sends you spiralling. 

Your skin is flushed. Sweat beads down along your breasts as he pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. A shiver skitters down your spine as he whispers into the shell of your ear. 

“Ready for me darlin’?” 

You nod, “yeah- yes, fuck I’m ready please,” you whine as he runs the tip of his cock teasingly along your slick. “Joel…”

“Tell me what you want, baby.” 

“Need you inside - need you to fuck me, please.” With the head of his cock notched at your entrance he thrusts inside with a roll of his hips and you both let out a soft groan as he fills you. 

“Jesus, darlin’. So damn tight…fuckin’ squeezing the life outa me.” He takes a moment, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath as he tries to control himself. His lips meet the skin of your neck as he peppers kisses along it, his hips moving slowly in tandem with his lips. 

It’s soft and slow. His hands glide over your skin, pinching and pulling as you moan softly into the room. Your body shudders as you come, your clit already sensitive from earlier. 

A soft cry slips past your lips as you reach behind to run your fingers into his hair. His hips stutter as he nears his release, the soft grunting in your ear becoming louder the closer he gets. 

“Ngh…fuck,” he groans as he quickly frees himself from your walls, spilling himself over the soft pillowy flesh of your ass. 

“Don’t move, darlin’.” He says as he slowly slips from the bed and grabs a piece of cloth to clean you with. He works it gently over your skin before throwing it into the basket at the end of his bed. 

The cool air makes you shiver involuntarily but Joel is quick to hop back into bed, slipping beneath the covers and pulling you close. 

 “I love you, darlin’,” he whispers into the crook of your neck and you can’t help the smile that works its way onto your face. 

“Hmm, I love you too.” He squeezes you gently before his breathing evens out and he falls asleep.  It’s safe to say that Joel Miller definitely doesn’t hate you. 

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan25 @hummelmia @angstismydrug

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hey! I saw you were starting to write for Blitzø so I’d love to request something! Could you do Blitzø x fem or gn reader in which reader comforts him after he has a very bad day and reassures him about his insecurities? That man needs to let himself cry in front of someone and also needs a hug! I love him sm I need more works where we can comfort him!! 🫶🏻

SORRY NOT SORRY I SKIPPED OVER LIKE 6 OTHER REQUESTS BC I NEED TO WRITE THIS ANGSTY BLITZ REQUEST IMMEDIATELY ITS TOO GOOD IM SO- 😳🥺 I just wanna hold him…enjoy, anon~

Notes: imp!reader, gn!reader, not an established relationship but mutual crushing and pining, reader works at IMP, angst to fluffy comfort

Blitzø x reader- Bad Day 💔

Blitz had the shittiest shit day ever and was ready to fall asleep and stay asleep forever. Between feeling excluded and lonely after seeing Millie and Moxxie’s displays of affection during dinner at Ozzie’s, then Fizz and Verosika giving him shit in front of the entire restaurant and Stolas being disgustingly clingy as always, Blitz felt himself breaking down, deteriorating from the inside out. It really stuck with him when he heard a restaurant patron shout, “YOU’RE SLEEPIN’ WITH AN IMP?” when referring to him and Stolas. What an embarrassment for both of them. He already has a very low self-esteem and that comment just solidified all his intrusive thoughts- no matter who he’s with, how successful he becomes, how much money he has, he’ll always be just an imp.

Blitzø stumbled through the front door of his apartment, rapidly proceeding to Loona’s room with a small smile. His precious girl always cheers him up, even when she’s in a bad mood…which is always. At the exact moment he sees the note on her door saying that she is out at a party, his smile drops to a disappointed frown. With the upper half of his body hunched over, his arms dangling limply by his sides, he trudges over to the couch and collapses on it with a huff.

This feeling was way too overwhelming- he felt suffocated by his clothes, pushed around and beaten by his own mind. He felt defeated and had no idea how to get himself out of this state of mind. He pulls out his phone to scroll through some pictures, maintaining his lonely frown the whole time. Blitz rolls his eyes at an old pic of him and Verosika. Then, he finds himself looking at a photo of his mom, sister and him, so happy, so close. After only seconds of looking into the picture, all his feelings unexpectedly erupt from him. The tears forced their way to the surface, gushing down his red and white cheeks. His chest felt like it was gonna cave in any second now, his lungs forgetting how to breath calmly.

“Fuck…” He chokes out while tossing his phone aside and sprawling out over the couch. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. He couldn’t stop the tears from welling up and overflowing, he couldn’t slow his breaths, he couldn’t even open his eyes they felt so swollen already. He had never felt so alone before. Laying on his stomach with his wet, snotty face in the pillows, he completely lets loose. A guttural, miserable, shaky moan leaves him as he weeps, his fists clenching around nothing in particular.

Just as he sucks in a quivering gasp of air, the sound of the front door opening caused him to hold his breath and stay completely still. “Blitz?” Fuck…of all people to walk in on him during his pathetic mental breakdown, why you? He’s literally praying that you’ll just go away but he knows you won’t, you’ll keep looking until you find him. He knows this, but he stays hidden and silent on the couch until you finally walk around and see him.

“Blitz? Whats wrong? What happened?” Stepping over to him quickly then kneeling on your knees beside him, he seems to retreat even further away. Blitz scoots into the couch more, turning his head away from you as he exhales then inhales and then holds it again. “Are you okay?” Obviously, he’s not okay but he nods his head anyways. “You can talk to me, Blitz.” Finally, he lets out all the air he was holding in. “I don’t wanna fucking talk right now.” He manages to mutter out between hiccups and sniffles. “Oh…okay.” Your voice a soft whisper now, Blitz again finds his hands balled up into tight fists, his fingers digging deeply into his palms. Dammit…he did mean to snap at you.

But instead of abandoning him, you shimmy your way onto the couch next to him, one arm coming to wrap around his torso as you lay your head against his back. You can hear everything with your ear to his back- his shaky breathing, his soft whimpers he’s trying so hard to hold back. “We don’t have to talk. We can just…lay here. I’m with you, okay?” You pull him closer, his back up against your stomach as you give him a gentle squeeze.

He tried so fucking hard to conceal it, to play it off in front of you, he really did but he lost it again, crumbling apart right in your arms. After hearing the sweet words of reassurance you offered him and the way your hand was now rubbing slowly across his heaving chest and the way you didn’t leave him…he can’t help but let it all out. Blitz softly shakes against you, making your heart ache for him. You’ve seen him in so many different moods and different situations, in so many silly costumes and you’ve heard some pretty vile things leave his mouth but you’ve never seen him like this. He was an absolute mess.

Slowly and carefully, you scoot closer, fitting your knees perfectly in the back of his. With a slight hum and one hand still rubbing his chest, you close your eyes as you rest against his back still. “Is there anything I can do for you?” Softly, you speak as Blitz exhales deeply once again. “Anything you need, just say the word.” Your hand stops the rubbing of his chest as you take a moment to squeeze him again.

“Don’t leave me…” With a crack in his voice, Blitz finally responds before curling in on himself even more. “I’m not going anywhere, promise.” As you nuzzle your cheek against his back. Your reply calms him, allowing his body to finally soften into your embrace. Together, you lay like this for a while, finding comfort in the sound of each other’s breathing.

Eventually, Blitz weakly turns himself around to reveal his somewhat improved mood. His eyes are puffy and glossy but the tears had stopped. His frown is a nasty one, one of the worst you’ve ever seen him wear but his eyes show a hint of something more positive as well- a look of hope? admiration? appreciation? Now facing you and looking at your face right there in front of him, hope, admiration and appreciation all swelled within him. He felt so lucky to have you, as an employee, as a friend… and maybe you two would be more one day. Maybe more…today? Right now?

“Do you think I’m… just a stupid imp? That I’ll always be seen as just an imp?” He can’t bring himself to look at you now, eyes scanning the ceiling instead. “Do you think I’m just a stupid imp? Is that all you see me as?” You immediately reply, watching as he starts to over analyze the situation. “No, no, of course not. You’re…fucking awesome.” His eyes land on your face for a second before they shift back to the ceiling. “So are you, boss.” Blitz scoffs lightly at your words, giving you a disapproving glare. “No! Really! I mean it, Blitz.” A soft sigh comes from him and he’s having a hard time believing your words.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You say with a light hearted tone and a small smile. Gently, teasingly you reach up to his face and use your thumbs to pull the corners of his mouth up into a smile. “Awww! There he is, there’s my guy!” As you pull your hands away, a smile finds your face as you notice his smile doesn’t fall, he’s smiling for real now. It’s not a big smile, honestly it’s barely a smile at all but it’s something. It’s better than the horrible frown he had on earlier.

“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” You ask cautiously, not wanting to upset him anymore. “I’m sure.” His reply is immediate and short, making you stay quiet after. Instead of using your voice, you go back to comforting him physically. With one hand on his cheek again, cupping his face this time, Blitz leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. Simultaneously, you both close your eyes and let out a deep breath.

As you let your thumb trace back and forth over the skin of his cheek, Blitz opens his eyes again and takes this chance to just stare down at you, at your eyelashes, at your skin and any little scars or blemishes that decorate it, at your lips as they part momentarily to suck in a breath. Without thinking it over, he kisses you. It’s quick, not necessarily soft because he came in kind of fast but it wasn’t hard or sloppy or anything like that. It was sort of a test of the waters for Blitz. He wanted much more than a measly peck from you but he didn’t want go all in on you and scare you off or weird you out.

To his surprise, before he can get a good look at your reaction, you’re chasing his face as he pulls away. As you lean forward, a shocked ‘mmm’ rumbles from Blitzø’s throat when your lips meet his again. This time, the kiss lasts longer. It remains sweet and simple, there’s no tongue, no spit or even much movement from your mouths at all. After locking lips for a few seconds, you part to finally look at each other. Your smiles mock each other’s, both growing bigger and bigger.

This isn’t at all how either of you imagined your first kiss together. Blitz had something more rough and dirty in mind but he’s beyond grateful that you still respect him after seeing him in such a lowly position. You’re not sure what comes over him as he stares at your lips but he confidently yanks you back into him, kissing you again.

With his mouth still covering most of your own, he mumbles, “Earlier, you said anything I need and now I need you.” The kiss is deepened by Blitz carefully moving his lips against yours, both your heads tilting to find the perfect position. His hands roam up and down your back at an extremely slow pace as his mouth follows along, moving in tandem with yours.

“Yes, sir.”

And the rest of the evening is spent gently coddling and lovingly appreciating each other at such a close range. The kissing lasts so long, that eventually you’re both just lazily pecking each other on the lips over and over and over again with closed eyes and relaxed limbs. It’s nice, it’s simple yet romantic and Blitz has never felt more safe or comfortable in his entire existence.

“And if you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re right, I won’t. But please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

[httpsghostie]

i just . many thoughts head full . thinking about toxic husband price that doesn’t compliment his darling anymore bc they’re already married and so he “doesn’t have to” . then they go out and she’s looking all pretty and someone compliments her . and he gets mad ! bc that’s his wife !! nobody else gets to call her pretty if not him >:c

Is It Really You?

sorry not sorry love u

Summary: your husband doesn't compliment you anymore.

Word Count: around 900

Warnings: toxic!husband!price x f!reader, angst/hurt, estabilished relationship (?

masterlist

Marriage was being a burden.

You never thought it would end up like this, all the sweet moments you two shared were replaced with toxicity and you seemed to be the only one holding it together.

John had become a different man after a certain mission he had in the military, leading to a lot of heated arguments, him sleeping on the couch way more than often. Sex wasn't the same also, that's when you two even engaged in it. 

But to everyone else it was perfect. Such a cute little housewife doing everything to her handsome, hardworking husband. And to be honest, you'd do anything for John, only if it wasn't for the man he'd now become.

He was cold, distant, indifferent. He didn't compliment you anymore, he wouldn't pay attention to the small details of your being like he always used to do, so loving and caring, just because, in his mind, he didn't have to earn you again. You two were already married, why should he?

Meals were shared with him on his phone, dealing with work, and you watching some crappy romance tv show, hopefully imagining you could live that again.

But it wasn't until the day he was invited to a dinner and had to show up with his pretty wife, pretending like the life you shared wasn't only being held by convenience.

You two stood in front of the house, a fine bottle of red wine in your arms, patiently waiting for someone to open the door. You wore a beautiful black dress, the one that your husband would never fail to compliment, but instead he just complained about you making him get there late.

"What a bonnie lass!" Said Soap as he greeted you, holding his arms open for a hug. You laughed as you stepped inside, accepting his hug.

"Thanks, Johnny, it's nice to hear that." You glanced at your husband who was putting his cigar away.

"That's my wife you're talking 'bout, Sargeant." He said, crossing his arms after he closed the door behind him, giving him a stern look.

"I acknowledge a beautiful woman when I see one." You chuckled, but felt your cheeks flushing. It's been a while since someone complimented you. It was such an innocent act coming from him that you didn’t even mind, but you knew what your husband thought of that.

You could see Gaz in the house as well, and he was making the universal 'cut that shit off' sign to Soap — a small waving hand on the side of his neck. He knew Price more than Soap, and for longer, also. He knew about your decaying relationship and he also didn't want a scene.

"Show some fucking respect, she's my wife, MacTavish." Price almost spitted out, raising his tone.

“Wow, ok, easy there, Captain!” Gaz finally stepped in between them, trying to ease the mood as he chuckled. “No need for that,— do you mind?” He pointed at the bottle in your hands that you’ve almost forgotten about, and if it wasn’t for him offering to take it, you’d probably have clutched it so tight that the glass would snap. You gave him a sweet smile and an almost inaudible ‘thank you’, not being really sure of where to shove your red face from embarrassment. 

“Is there a problem there?” You heard the deep voice of Simon approaching the little reunion by the entrance hall, Price’s hands turned into clenched fists and he took a deep breath.

“Not at all,” you chuckled awkwardly, waving your hands, and turned to your husband, whispering to him as the guys made their way to the living room, “and enough, John, why would you want to cause a scene, hm? Suddenly you’re jealous? What is that?”

“You’re my wife.” He pointed a finger to your chest. “You’re mine and you deserve respect.”

“Respect? John, that was the furthest thing from respect, he was just complimenting me, what’s wrong with you today?” You two were arguing silently, trying to keep as cool as possible.

“I don’t know.” He softened his gaze on you, brushing his beard awkwardly. “I- I don’t know, my dear, ‘m sorry.”

“Let’s pretend this didn’t happen.”

You didn't pay attention to the dinner whatsoever, nor the conversations going like nothing ever happened, the embarrassing scene your husband had caused in the hall of Soap's house were merely enough to make you dissociate. You felt strange, like something lit inside of you, those long gone butterflies finding its way to your stomach all over again. 

The drive back home was silent, from the start of the engine to the keys being tossed on the side table by the door, followed by the sound of you taking your high heels off.

“Didn’t mean to do that.” He said. You sighed, holding back your tears as if you were in a burst of hormones. “You… do look beautiful, darling.” It came out strained, like a cry for help.

You weren’t sure why, you thought you should feel grateful for having someone to be jealous over you, you thought you should run to his arms, hug him, tell him everything was going to be alright, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so, you couldn’t even care to look at his face. Your heart was shattered in pieces, bleeding out. How could you deal with the pain?

And there he stood, watching the only thing that kept him from ending it all, slipping away from his fingers and mournfully perambulating through the hallway to their once shared room.

taglist: @butterbunana @snoisisabitch @nuhteyam @iamabsolutelynothere @blissful--moon @jellyluvr @khomugi @xaintxun @kichimiz @frog-spot @sasukeswife3 @aly0be

[myfirstnameisagent]

FALLING

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angsty, Harm if you squint, I'm sorry y'all I'm going through it, cringey ending but we love angst in this garden

Summary: Bucky's struggle to cope finally catches up with him and costs him the thing he loves most; you.

Word Count: 646

Bucky Barnes had been known as many equally great and terrible things over the span of his overextended life time. He was the charming young man that all his mothers’ friends praised and adored,  and now a murderer. He’d been the starring captain of the neighborhood baseball team, now a cold blooded monster. The former best friend to the dazzling captain america, now his greatest burden. Okay, so maybe they weren’t equal. Regardless, he would of taken any one of those titles tattooed in bright red ink on his skin rather than the crumpled form seated on the floor and against the wall. His fingers almost scratching at the flesh covering his chest in an attempt to ease the throbbing within. Breaths were short, eyes squeezed shut. Arguably, he usually only was brought to such a weakened state by nightmares or those terrible moments that a memory from his HYDRA days. 

However, he would of taken any single one of those in comparison to the look on your face, the one permanently etched into his brain. Every emotion shimmering through large tears might as well have been large pieces of shattered glass straight into his chest, driven all the way through until it reached the aching organ behind a bone cage. 

The former soldier had taken many approaches to slowly piece his life back together (well, what he thought was a life, his therapist had very different ideas), and to his fatal flaw, he’d used your kind heart as his foundation. He’d always had a habit of doing it, whether it was before the war rooting his whole life and building his life around taking care of Steve, or now by only trusting you to be the one good thing he had in his life. But as the usual pattern unfolded, the cruelties of the fates had taken his parents, his sister, Steve, and what seemed to be anyone else who mattered. 

“I can’t do this anymore James.” Shaky breaths rattled your form and equally shaky hands formed clenched fists at your sides. “I am a grown woman, I don’t need you deciding where I go and who I spend my time with, like some fucking dictator!”

His head hit the wood behind him, the throbbing from how hard he’d done so almost a welcome relief from how his insides were turning inside out. Mismatched hands ran up his face and through his hair, abdomen clenching with the strength of his sobs, and he really wasn’t sure when he’d started crying. 

 You really had done your best, and he couldn’t fault you for that. You’d taken every single broken piece in your hand, carefully examining each one. However, you were tired of cutting your pretty fingers on such jagged edges. 

It wasn’t like he’d made it easy for you either, with how what his therapist had reasoned was HYDRA still continuing to make a mess of his life. His inability to let you be anywhere by yourself, distrusting almost anybody that even tried to come near you. He’d seen the terrors the world had to offer, hell he has been said terrors, and he’d be damned if he let any of them reach out and put out the only bright flame in a very dark and cold life. However, in doing so he’d managed to smother it out himself. Somewhere in it all, his love for you had in turn become shackles for you, not being able to turn around for a single moment without him standing right there.

Claws of shame dug themselves further into his chest, knowing he was pathetic mess for having such a reaction to a woman walk out of his life. But you weren’t ever just a woman, were you? No you’d found a way to become his hope, his lifeline, his home. Now he had none of the above, just a collection of broken fragments that no longer really belonged together. 

Bucky Barnes had been known for a lot of things in his life, but his favorite had been being yours.

[magnoliabutters]

• TAKE ME •

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader (they/them, 18+)

summary: there he goes again, pissing you the fuck off…

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; cod mw 2 campaign spoilers; reader referred to by rank (lieutenant, "lt") and call sign (aero); weapons, gore, violence; angst to fluff to smut/porn; enemies to lover trope, toxic love dynamic (only to be fantasized in fanfics, not encouraged irl - you deserve better hunty), possibly problematic coping skills, rough sexy time, etc.

word count: ~5.7k

support your author: reblogs for the sexy masked menace, ghostie boy ✨

• ghost stories series • previous part •

note: part two. sorry for the delay! let's live this bad boy fantasy together...

specific warnings: mature/serious topics mentioned - please read over; *trigger warning* small insinuation of sexual assault and questionable interrogation methods (to avoid, begin reading at second red line; skipping will not impact story)

Do you know how unbearably painful it is to just stop - right when it was getting good? As you walk down the hallway, Soap at arm's length away, you attempt to slow your breathing. Anything to get your blood pumping around your body again. Anything to keep your mind off the pulsating feeling in your groin.

Ghost walks ahead, fists clenched. You wonder how he must be feeling. Practically on on the verge of cumming and being made to stop. It's one thing to be edged, but its another to be forced to conceal a raging boner and not knowing the first chance you'll have to address it.

Soap continues down the hallway with heavy steps. His face solely showing determination. Further confirming your hope that he did not see, nor suspect anything. Ghost opens the door to the others' debriefing room and quickly drops it behind him. The heavy door almost slams against Soap's shoulder. "What the hell, Ghost?" he asks with his thick Scottish accent. "Aye, don't take it personal, Soap. Must just have an itchy trigger finger," you suggest as you lug the door open. The room looks exactly like the one you and Ghost explored earlier.

Ghost pounds his fist against the steel door. He waits to hear movement as the door lock pops open. "Perfect, you're going to want to hear this, hombre," Alejandro says as he widens the door. "Qué es?" Ghost asks as he walks in. You can't help the "humph" that leaves your body. He knows some Spanish? It leaves a smile on your face, whether you'd like it to or not.

Alejandro keeps the door open for both you and Soap. "Hermano," Alejandro says with a nod directed towards Soap. "Teniente," he adds as his eyes fall upon you. "Do you want to tell them what you told me or should I get that car battery I promised you?" Gaz says as he points towards the side of the room. Nadia Sidorov blubbers in the chair. Her black mascara smudged down to her chin. She must have been crying since she woke up from her unexpected slumber. You wouldn't blame her. It's not easy waking up in a US black site.

"AQ wants a stealth bomber, okay? They wanted something quick and quiet, to get the job done," Sidorov mumbles between tears. "What job?" Ghost's voice booms from the corner. God, did this man love dark corners. "They-they wanted to take out some gang. I don't know! I don't really ask questions in my line of work. I don't need to know what they're being used for," she yells, exhausted. "You mean, you don't care to know about who your weapons are being used on," you correct her. Her careless and dangerous attitude bubbling up an anger within you. It's a nice distraction.

Sidorov rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Do they have the bomber?" Soap asks as he walks under the light from the overhead lamp. Her eyes squint as she looks his way. They widen as a smile forms across her face. She begins a slow laugh as she leans her head back onto her shoulders. "Oh, Soapy-boy. What do they have you doin' now?" she says with a soothing, yet unsettling tone. Her entire demeanor has now shifted. The blubbering mess is suddenly exuding confidence and happiness.

Ghost's eyes quickly rush towards Soap. Soap returns with a confused, but suspicious look. Several brutal questions rush through your head. How the hell did Soap know the target? And why didn't he mention that before? "Why don't you go discuss in that other room there," Sidorov suggests as she nods towards the locked door. "I'm sure you have plenty to talk about." You quickly walk over to the woman and crouch before her. "Why don't you tell me what there is to talk about, Nadia?" you ask with a tilt to your head.

"Soap tells the story best," Sidorov seethes through her teeth. "Car battery, huh?" you ask as you quickly stand. You turn towards Gaz. "Who taught you that trick?" you scoff. Ghost watches your every move intensely. Almost as though he is trying to memorize your patterns. Maybe just in case you get into another physical altercation.

"Now, Nadia. You're a very smart woman. That's obvious. You're one of the most prominent arm's dealers in all of Europe," you continue as you make your way behind her chair. “I know you’ve done this before and you know what comes next.” The boys still stand barely outside of the shadows in the small sound proofed room. "Show me how smart you are and start talking," you say as you land a tight grip onto her shoulders.

Sidorov shivers at your touch and remains silent. "Alright," you shrug. You quickly pull the woman down by her shoulders. She falls onto her arms as they are tied behind the chair. She releases a heavy breath as the wind is knocked out of her. She now rests onto her back.

"We got your AQ contact in the other room. He gave us names. Las Almas Cartel and Los Vanqueros," you share as you crouch down beside her. Alejandro and Rudy quickly shift their eyes from you to Ghost. Rudy's upper lip is stiff as he continues watching over Sidorov in disgust. Alejandro's nostrils flare as he pops his knuckles.

"See, we already have all the information we need," you whisper. "I really don't care about how you know Soap here." You stand as you stretch at your arms in front of you and walk towards the front door. Her eyes watching you intently with a stern lip. "Boys, do your worst," you mumble. Sidorov quickly shouts in panic, "Wait! Wait!" You turn around slowly. "AQ showed me Soap's picture. They've been passing it around to anyone with a gun. He's got a hit on him," she stutters out. "Clear out," you instruct.

The boys look at you with either dumbfounded or confused looks. They are both in shock regarding what was implied of them, but also the results of your threat. You received vital information about Soap. Going forward, he will be unable to go into the field for a mission. If he was in the restaurant instead of Gaz, you both could have easily been made and ambushed. Now, he will remain protected and protect his squad by staying in overwatch.

"Clear out," you repeat again at a higher volume. The boys quickly walk outside. Ghost waits at the door. He watches you as you grab hold of the back of Sidorov's chair. You lean her up. Reaching back into your pocket, you reveal another knife tucked in your left sock. You quickly cut the restraints that hold Sidorov's wrists. Without looking back, you walk out. Ghost locks the door from the outside, rendering the inside lock useless.

You walk into the debriefing room with your head down. "How'd you know she'd talk?" Rudy asks. You look up and see the two sergeants, colonel, and sergeant major staring at you. Ghost leaning back against the wall. "Nothing scarier then a room full of men," you say with a deep sigh. "Ghost, you move forward with the plan of action. Brief me in the morning." You leave the room behind in a haste, hell bent in making it back to your cot.

Today was rough. It's time to go to sleep and start over.

Despite making it back to your quarters, you couldn't get yourself to sleep. Insomnia always keeps you up. Some nights your body doesn't accept the sleeping meds. You are just forced to stare at a ceiling as your mind begs for sleep and your body continues to deny the request. Counting those damn sheep as they continue to laugh at your attempts at rest.

With a sigh, you quickly sit up from your cot. Your oversized t-shirt falling to your upper thighs. You walk over to your backpack - the same designated backpack that you will be living out of for the remainder of the mission. "How many knives do you have?" you hear. Ghost. He closes the door behind him as he walks in to your private room without hesitation. Not turning around, you reach into your pack for your untraceable modded phone. "If you get to ask a personal question, I should be able to too," you say to the wall as you note the time. Fuck, 3:00am? you think to yourself as you tuck your device back into the pocket.

"I didn't know that was a personal question," Ghost asks with a low-toned voice. He leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. You turn around to see him in a black long-sleeved shirt. The tight sleeves emphasizing his bulging biceps. He has grey sweatpants that hang loosely at his hips. You note a small sliver of skin between articles of clothing. A thin black inked line flowing up from his hip.

A lighter skulled balaclava mask pulled over his face. Just like you, his eyes rake all over your body. They pay special attention to your bare legs. You enjoy having him watch over you with adoration and temptation. You swear you can hear deep breathing against his clothed mouth. "Do you sleep with that on?" you ask as you point towards his face. You walk over to your bed and lay onto your back in exhaustion, crossing your ankles. "Is that your question?" he mutters from across the room.

You scoff as you rub your eyes. "I don't know, Ghost. I don't know if I care enough to ask a question," you mumble as you rest your head back onto your pillow. Your mind already working as a thinly stretched elastic band ready to pop. "Fine," he says with a hint of frustration as he reaches for the door knob. "Wait," you say involuntarily. This poses as another moment to trust your body over your mind. Unfortunately, you are too tired to hold back any of your body's impulses.

"Can you just lay with me?" you ask. Part of you is deeply uncomfortable with the request. You do not enjoy being vulnerable and holy fuck, were you putting yourself in quite the tricky spot. The fact of the matter is you fall asleep best in someone’s arms. Through trial and error, that has been the best trick to aid your insomnia - if you exclude a good old fashioned orgasm. In an effort to protect yourself, you curl against the wall - putting your back towards Ghost. Maybe it would hurt less if you didn't see him walk out in response to your question? God, being pushed to the edge of exhaustion really does wonders for your decision making.

After a few seconds a silence, you hear Ghost mutter, "I don't do that." You immediately shake your head. Self-deprecating thoughts rush through your brain as you curl tighter and closer towards the wall. You feel his eyes still on you. You mutter disappointed, “Okay, you can leave now.” You are still curled together in a ball, desperate for sleep to take you away from this day. Nevertheless that you are expected to wake in a few short hours to move on your next targets.

Suddenly, you feel a light hand placed upon your upper arm. You quickly turn over, ripping your dagger from under your pillow and hold it to Ghost’s neck. His body tensed as he watches you from the side of his eye. His head tilts up, exposing freshly shaved hair underneath his jaw bone. His hand raises off your skin. “Bloody hell,” he says quietly. “How many fuckin’ knives do you have?”

You roll your eyes and tuck your knife back into its designated spot. “How many fucking masks do you have?” you whisper under you breath. Ghost slowly sits down on the cot, making the cheap mattress squeak. You turn around, feeling his weight shift the bedding. "I thought you don't do this?" you murmur. His big brown eyes turn towards you. Despite their warmth, they still appear dead, a void of human emotion.

"You look like shit. You haven't slept have you?" Ghost asks as he peers down at you. You turn onto your side as you rest your hand upon your pillow. His hand lightly placed in between your stomach and his hips as he twists his torso towards you. “Not all of us can hide behind a mask,” you mumble with your eyes tied to his.

With a huff, Ghost leans back onto the mattress and rests beside you. His face towards the ceiling. His body inches away from you. You try to hold back your expression, completely shocked. When you asked, you were confident that he would never agree. That you messed up by playing your hand too early. But here you are now, reaping the benefits. You slowly raise your hand from your pillow and lower it onto his chest. As your hand meets his warm torso, you feel a growl grumble from his sternum. A warning. You can’t help but smile.

Your hand slowly travels down towards the waistband of his sweatpants. You wanted to feel Ghost again. You wanted that thick girthy cock flooded in your mouth - maybe in other places. Him lying down with you was supposed to put you to sleep, but fuck did it just turn you on more. This small inkling of vulnerability that he’s given you, just by resting beside you. Adrenaline pushes through you, putting you further from rest.

Ghost quickly grabs hold of your wrist, so tight it hurts. You look up to him with your upper lip pulled. "We're here to sleep, Aero," he says sternly. His eyes widened with anger. You smile as this is the first time he says your name. You hate the context, but it felt beautiful heard aloud with his accent. You try to contain your grin as you pull your arm back rather harshly. "You're telling me you came into my room wanting to sleep at 3:00am?" you scoff. A small laugh bursts through his mask. It must have been unexpected for him, seeing as he immediately cleared his throat.

"No, but it's definitely what you need," Ghost says with a low tone. His eyes not daring to move away from the ceiling. "Well, if that's what I need, I sleep best when I cuddle," you murmur as you inch closer towards him. Your hand slowly makes contact with his shoulder. You feel the muscles tighten under your finger tips. Ultimately, you know he would stop you if you did anything that made him uncomfortable. Your fingers continue to travel down to his right peck as you pull yourself closer towards him.

You cannot help but smirk as you are curious how far he will let you go. The man who said "he doesn't do this," but now, you rest your head upon his firm peck. Your arm wrapped towards his hip as you pull him closer into your chest. Your leg over his and tucked between his two. And to perfectly end the night, Ghost tilts his chin down towards you and rests it upon your forehead. As your mind drifts to sleep, you feel his hand gently placed at the base of your spine. You fall asleep, against his warmth, without further trouble.

Your eyes begin to flutter as you are pulled from a restful slumber. You immediately notice the emptied space beside you. However, it does not surprise you. What surprises you is that you aren't hearing your annoying cranked alarm. You quickly shoot out of bed and rush over to your pack. Pulling out your phone, you note the time - 10:06am. Fuck!

Confusion rushes over you as you quickly look for your alarms. You know you put a specific alarm on for 5:00a, for today's mission. You are absolutely confident. Yet, there it rests on your screen toggled off. Quickly, you look around the room - angry as you reach for your clothes. That's when you notice the note resting on your bedside table. A harsh breath pushes from your nostrils as you reach for the paper.

Aero, Thought you needed more rest. Ghost.

Upon reading, you abruptly crumple the paper within your hands. Ghost made sure to go on the mission without you. Your fucking mission! What even made you angrier was that he didn't own up to it in his stupid note. He wants to still pretend the he actually cares about your sleep. You rush to quickly put on your clothes and run out into the hall. You find that your entire squad has gone out on a mission and will be back later in the day.

Fire flushes through your body. All you can see is red. You bite your lip so hard it bleeds. Ghost hijacked your mission and let you behind. He jeopardized your authority as team lead, as lieutenant of the 141. You are fuming. Returning into your room, you slam the door behind you. You grab hold of your phone and rapidly call your mercenary contact. You need to hurt something or someone - bad.

"Johnson, I need a contract," you grumble into the phone. "I'm in France." The man laughs on the other end of the line. "Lucky you, I need some supplies destroyed in Marseille," he shares. "I'll be there in less than two hours," you sternly reply. "I'll text you the details," Johnson says before hanging up the phone. You reach for your pack and grab hold of you rolled up grey mat. Unraveling it upon the mattress you slept on with Ghost, you admire the twinkling dark knives in front of you.

The next time you find yourself at the home base, you are splattered with blood and filled with bumps and bruises. You wanted to take your anger out with that contract, and, holy fuck, did you do just that. You walk past the briefing room as the squad of men sit and stand round a table. Ghost at its head. You continue to walk by, not giving a single glance in their direct. Yet, you feel all their eyes stuck on you.

You hear chairs screech against the floor and a fumbling of two pairs of footsteps. “You okay, LT?” you hear that deep Scottish accent ringing through the hallways. His tone hesitant and concerned. You hear Gaz’s melodic British as he asks, “Should we call medical?” You push down the feeling of disappointment, knowing that Ghost wasn’t the one to rush after you. “I’m good, boys. Thank you,” you say as you raise your hand and continue walking forward.

“We missed you,” Gaz says as he reaches for your elbow. You turn back to see Soap making a “oh shit I shouldn’t be here” face before jogging back to his other Lieutenant. “Yeah, wish I could’ve been there,” you mumble. “He told us you were off doing something for Price,” he shares inquisitively. “I feel like you would’ve told me.” You laugh as you naturally pull done Gaz’s soft hand. “Trust that gut of yours,” you say as you walk towards the showers. Gaz backs off and walks back.

You slowly undress, careful to peel away the dried blood drenched clothes from your skin. You look up in the bathroom’s mirror to see a fresh cut across your eyebrow. A bruise forming across your cheek bone. Your bottom lip busted. All you could do was smile at the sight of yourself. You wanted to cause pain, bring down hell and havoc. You did. You were undeniably successful in your mission.

Pulling down your pants, you see a bruise on your hip. That one is not from your mission, but from last night’s foolish impulse. When Ghost pushed you down onto that desk. When he had your legs spread. When he had you begging for his cock to be inside you. Back when he barely spoke, and didn’t have access to your phone to fuck up your mission. Fuck. You are angry again.

Your shirt comes off in one swift movement. Your shoulders scream at you as you raise your hands above your head. As the pain pounds through your head, you land your hands against the sink’s counter. Another look at yourself. You understood why some wear masks.

Walking away from the stalls, you choose a designated nozzle for your shower - tucked away in the back corner. Of course, home base doesn’t have individualized rooms. You find yourself stuck in a steamy space meant for communal showers. Luckily the water is hot. The warmth truly soothes your sore muscles. You find your first bit of comfort after this morning’s atrocities.

As you rub your soap bar across your skin, you begin to hear movement in that initial stall area. Your eyes open, pulled from their comforting relaxation. The last thing you want is one of your men to see you, and for you to see one of your men. You quicken your lathering so that you may end your shower early if needed.

“Why're you in such a hurry?” Ghost asks. You shudder at his voice. Another shudder once you see his darkened torso behind you. A bright light shining behind him makes his facial features indistinguishable. “Fuck off,” you say as you turn around. He quickly slaps a hand against your ass and takes his other to grab hard against your muscle. You head butt your skull back into his nose. He stumbles back as you turn to face him. The hot water still falling upon your chest.

You watch as his fingers lift his skin-tight mask and reach for his nose. He quickly flings off the blood to the tiled floor. “You’re still upset about this morning?” he asks with a bit of amusement. Your teeth grind together. “How fucking dare you?” you seethe. “You were supposed to brief me in the morning. I’m the fucking Lieutenant!” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Not the only Lieutenant,” he replies softly.

“Riley, get the fuck out of my face,” you shout as you point towards the exit. “What? No more call signs?” he asks with a laugh. “Okay, Lieutenant y/l/n.” In this moment, it doesn’t matter how naked you are. You are pissed. You swear you must have steam rising from your skin.

“You’ve got those eyes again,” Ghost says as he points his gloved finger towards you. “And what fucking eyes are those?” you ask as you drastically turn off the shower head. The warm water quickly pulling away from your body. The cold air hitting you like a truck. “Those ‘I’m going to kill you’ eyes,” he mutters. “I haven’t decided on that just yet. Figured I’d wait ‘till the mission was over as a courtesy to Price,” you say as you move through the man to grab your towel.

Wrapping it around your waist, you continue to walk towards the bathroom exit. You hear Ghost’s wet boot steps behind you. You turn before he makes the horrible mistake of placing his hand atop your shoulder. “I don’t do well with competition,” he quickly mutters as your eyes meet his. His white spray painted skull balaclava staring back at you. “Well, I do especially well with competition but I don’t know how to do things nicely.”

Ghost walks up to you slowly. “You’re competition. Difficult, precise, exceptional,” he says softly. “The kind of competition you sabotage with minimal guilt.” You laugh as you cross your arms around your chest. “Minimal guilt, huh?” you ask. “It might have been a moderate amount,” he says as he inches closer.

“If you jeopardize my position or the mission again, I will have your head,” you say as you welcome his hand on yours. “And my knife will have something else of yours,” you murmur as your fingers tuck under his waistband. He nods as his eyes look down onto you. Those eyes serious and unforgiving.

"Understood," Ghost says without hesitation. "On your knees, soldier," you demand as you tilt your chin high. You peer down at him. His darkened brown eyes stare back at you as he slowly kneels onto the cool tiled floor.

You softly lay your hand upon his cheek, rubbing the fabric of his mask against your thumb. Slowly, your fingers reach the edge of his mask. Your fingers hooked within are met with a stiff grasp around your wrist. “No,” Ghost sternly says. You shoot him a look of dismay. “What you’re about to do cannot be done with your mask on,” you say as you feel his grip loosen.

Finally, his hand drops. You take it as a sign to continue. Lifting his mask, you reveal brown and red stubble to his chin. His lips flushed with pink. The bottom lip slightly larger than the top. You felt your body drawn into him, wanting to feel those perfect lips on yours.

As you pondered how soft his lips must be, you watch as a smile forms at the edges of his mouth. “What I’m about to do cannot be done with your towel on,” Ghost mutters as he softly places a hand at your waist. He untucks the edge of your towel, allowing it to fall at your feet and his knees. His eyes fall upon your naked body. You watch as he licks his lips.

Ghost’s hands immediately press against the tops of your thighs, pushing you back onto the sink counter. A sharp breath escapes your lips as you feel the surface’s chill. He gradually leans in and presses his mouth against your skin. His lips softer than you predicted. You feel your lower back arch as you lean your head back. His lips felt like butterflies, leaving flutters and ripples with every touch. You could feel your skin on fire anytime he pulled away for another kiss.

Your hand involuntarily explores the top of his head. The grooved cloth beneath your fingertips adds to the satisfaction. Ghost's thumbs begin to circle your hip bones. A moan is let out as his tongue trails from your knee to inner thigh. You cannot deny all your blood rushing between your legs. You feel that familiar throbbing as you crave for his touch.

Suddenly, Ghost pulls his mouth from your sensitive skin. You look down in dismay, only to be gifted with those brown eyes staring back at you. You watch as a smile forms on those perfect lips. He slightly opens his mouth as his lashes close upon his eyes. Following his lead, your eyes close as well.

You feel his warm, wet mouth against your skin. Electricity shoots straight through your body, just as intense as any taser. You gasp as you hang your head back off of your shoulders. Your hand travels from his head onto his cheek. Underneath your palm, you can feel his mouth opening and closing as he places sweet kisses upon your nasty bits. His hot breath flushes against your skin, leaving you comforted.

Ghost's tongue presses hard against the most sensitive of your skin. In between moans, you whisper, "Yes, just like that." You hear a chuckle as his hands grip tighter onto your thighs. "Oh, you like that, love? What about this?" Ghost murmurs amusingly. His tongue curls and twists against you. You catch yourself gripping against the tuff of hair of you found on the side of his neck. A moan rips through your body as your hips thrust against his mouth.

"Mmmm, that's good," Ghost whispers. Even his words have direct lines to your pleasure sensors. "I want more," he growls. His tongue pushes firmly against you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. The pleasure is enough to pull you right out of the environment. Do you even know who you are? Who is he? What are you doing here? All these facts that mean nothing - details that mean nothing when his tongue flutters against you like that.

Abruptly, the details return. With a strong force, you push Ghost backwards. He stumbles upon his knees, but quickly readies himself for your next move. You grab hold of his neck and pull him up and onto you. One of his hands now against the back of your neck. The other tightly pressed against your chest. "I want you, Ghost," you murmur against his lips. His waist now between your legs. Your ankles tighten into a lock against his back. His eyes pull from your mouth and finally fall on yours. "Take me," he states.

Without pause, you quickly reach for his belt buckle. You feel the smoothed bumps of his abs as you pull up a bit of his shirt. Ghost's mouth places gentle kisses against your collarbone. They travel down to your chest and sternum. Your hands shake, something that frankly never happens, as you pull against his belt. A smile forms across his face once again as you grip onto his pants' buttons. You cannot help but match his smile.

As you reach for the zipper, you could feel the growing bulge against your hand. You feel the thumping of your blood as it travels to your lower extremities. "Look how hard you are for me, Lieutenant," you taunt as you pull down his heavy pants. "Only for you, Aero," Ghost's voice flutters against your chest. "Good," you state as your finger pulls his chin up to your mouth.

With a bite, your lips meet in an incredulous manner. You have never felt so aggressive in this setting. You push roughly against him, forcing him to stumble once again - this time with his pants gathered at his ankles. One hand holds tightly against his shirt as you push him against the bathroom wall. Your other hand is on the base of his thick cock. You swear you can feel it pulsate in your hand. The bit of precum helps as a lubricant against your palm. You know this part of him well now. Your hand pumps against his hardened tip. You feel his breath heavy against your cheek as you press your body against him.

"Oh, you like that, L.T.?" you taunt. You place a hardened kiss against Ghost's mouth, pulling away with a bit of his bottom lip tied between your teeth. You could see a little red of blood as you catch another glimpse of him. Those brown eyes with black saucer-like pupils. The mask hanging on for dear life at his cupid's bow. His pale mouth now reddened after a multitude of embraces.

"What about this?" he adds before you can finish admiring him. His hand places against your groin. You feel your breath taken away as his fingers and palm move beautifully in between your thighs. "Fuck," you gasp as you crash your forehead against the nape of his neck. As you struggle to maintain your rhythm, you quickly peer down to spit onto your hand. With a bit of lubrication, you can feel him harden beneath you. You cannot help but smile and press yourself firmer against his chest. He feels so. fucking. good.

Ghost's fingers begin to play tricks with you. They quickly change from fast and slow movements. You can feel bit of frustration burn a hole within your body. You know he's doing it on purpose. You squeeze tighter against his cock. He hisses against your cheek with gritted teeth. You smile as you crash your mouth against his once more.

Both of your hands move at a quickened pace. Thank goodness for that soldier stamina. You hear his breathing shift rapidly. "Fuck, Aero," he whispers. He flicks the "ro" of your callsign a bit longer as he rides through his high. He's close, you think to yourself. You maintain your movement as you feel his body move underneath you. Such a strong and firm body. "Cum for me," you mumble against his lips.

Almost as a reaction to your words, Ghost's movements become harder and rougher. How does he know exactly what you need? The abrupt change leaves you gasping - throwing you off your game. You feel a tightness at the pit of your stomach. A tingling sensation boiling over your temples and forehead. "Shit," you whimper as you struggle to hold your grip.

"Cum for me, baby," Ghost demands. You can hear the struggle in his voice as he is determined to last longer than you. As much as you would want to beat him at his own game, you cannot ignore the fluttering feeling in your chest. Your legs begin to tighten as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your mouth hangs open. He quickly places his lips against you, not wanting any breath to go to waste. "Ghost," you whimper as you feel your knees pull together. Your thighs clench against his wrist and arm. Your entire body feels the overwhelming pleasure that is Ghost.

With a mere mention of his name, Ghost cums alongside you. You feel his hot breath push against your mouth. His hands tense around you. His moans like music to your ears. You feel his hips rut against your palm. His warm cum splashes in your hands and upon both of your stomachs. With a chuckle, you look down to admire the mess you both have made upon each other. Cum everywhere, just how you like it.

Ghost smiles as his hand returns to the back of your neck. His grip hard and pulling at your hair. You watch him with excited eyes and a smile. "Join me for a shower?" he says as he abruptly drops his grasp. He quickly turns and begins to walk towards the showers, where this all began. He takes off his shirt, revealing several pale scars ripped against his back. Scars that peak your curiosity. Scars that match yours.

That's when he takes off the balaclava, turns on the shower head, and stands beneath the falling water.

note: hope you liked it c: comment or message to join the taglist!

taglist: @hoosier-daddy01 @hypernovaxx @edenstarkk

• nav • no-no plagiarism • one shot • requests open •

[rocketttqueennn]

Tornado of Souls.

warnings: smut, teasing, slight angst, a bit of fluff at the end

this takes place around his metallica days, the reader is a groupie btw

"Dave? You can't just run off like that!" You yelled, running after him throughout the apartment, following him up the stairs as you saw him slam the door.

You didn't know what had happened, what had caused him to feel so strongly, but you figured it may had been related to the band.

You swung open the door, trying to catch your breath as you saw the man fiddling with his guitar, you knew he was upset. He always did something just to get his mind off of stuff.

"Dave? Are you alright?" You said, slowly walking in, looking at him with heavy concern.

"No! No I'm fucking not, none of them have been fucking acting right and I'm the one getting all the shit! I'm on the verge of being fuckin' replaced!" Dave yelled, looking up at you as he ran his hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm just having a hard time."

You sighed as you closed the door and sat down beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Y'know, you should really say something to them, they're missing out on a lot by doing that shit" You said as you looked up at him, the tinted lighting hit his eyes just right, sending a spark through your entire body with how beautifully fell back into place.

"Really? Seems to me that they don't give a shit." You instantly whipped your head around to him.

"Are you serious? Anyone would be missing out on having you here, I'm lucky to be here talking to you right now" You said, getting closer to him with a smile.

Dave grinned, looking over at you but something was different, you wanted him. You wanted him at that very moment, he was always very attractive but you never had actual alone time with him.

"Then show me what they're missing then, I think you'd be able to." Dave said, the tone changed from upset to clearly amused. You were stunned, you never thought you'd actually have that type of chance with him, let alone see him like this.

You immediately kissed him, it didn't take very long until it turned passionate, straddling his thigh as he runs his hands up your shirt, moaning into the kiss.

He takes his jeans off, sliding off his boxers as his hard cock springs out from the elastic waistband, he grinned at you as you knelt down Infront of him, sucking him off.

Dave's low moans sent your mind haywire, hearing how slurred his words would get right before he cums.

He grabbed at the roots of your hair, clenching it in his fist as his first orgasm of the night washed over him, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth followed by his hot cum pooling in your tongue.

You swallowed it all, pushing yourself up onto his lap as you wrapped your arms around his neck, sloppily but so passionately kissing him as you teased his cock by sliding your pussy against it.

You hummed as you saw how well he had come undone just by your actions, you couldn't help but moan as his dick hardened even more beneath your pussy.

"Dave, Baby I need you, I need you so bad." You whined desperately, his hands made his way to your clit, grinning as now you're the one about to cum from his touch, marking your neck as he then lined his cock up with your entrance.

He was panting heavily, his face reached the crook of your neck as he teased you.

"Are you ready baby?" He whispered in a way that turned you on even more, you nodded and soon you felt his cock slide in all in one go.

You were on the verge of screaming his name with each thrust, hitting deeper and deeper as you were on top of him, taking every inch of him.

"Dave- I'm close! Please don't stop, please-" You mumbled, you could hear his profanities under his heavy breath as you felt his cock twitch against your walls, moaning as the two of you his your climax together.

His cock slid out of you as he kissed your cheek, running his hand across your hip, never once did you think you would actually get fucked by him.

You laid with your head on his chest, feeling his loving embrace as you looked up at him.

"Dave, I love you"

He smiled, running your fingers through his hair as he kissed you.

⊰ END ⊰

[andvys]

Please, please can I request "god, i don't know what i would have done if you got hurt." with Eddie? Thank you🥰

This is not the end E.M.

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of death and injuries, blood, upside down stuff

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Author's note: Thank you for the request, I loved writing it!

stranger things masterlist

-

It was a close call, you almost didn’t make it. After jumping into the lake, following Steve into the upside down, you were determined to help him, to save him. You didn’t see all the other bats that were flying towards you, you were too busy helping him when you suddenly felt a tail wrapping itself around your throat and pulling you back as two others attacked you from behind. 

You and Steve were surrounded, fighting against the deadly creatures. You were struggling, trying to throw them off of you but the tail around your throat tightened, taking your breath away. 

Your vision blurred and you grunted in fear. You heard Steve’s cries of pain as his eyes locked with yours, you wanted to help him, he wanted to help you but you were both losing the fight until your friends came along and the creatures were thrown off of you, Eddie ripped the bat off that almost choked you to death. 

When you fell to your knees, gasping for air, you watched him wide eyed as he repeatedly slammed the bat against the ground with anger on his face you haven’t seen before. 

Luckily, you managed to get away with just a few small scratches, Steve had it worse than you. After you found shelter in the woods and waited for the swarm to pass, you finally managed to take care of Steve’s wounds, which looked really bad. 

He grunted in pain and clenched his hand into a fist when you tied the piece of Nancy’s shirt around his waist. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble after tying the knot. 

“It’s okay, fuck,” he grunts, laying his shaky hand on the covered wound. 

Steve looks down at you, thanking you with a forced and painful smile. Turning to look at Eddie, he finds him staring at you with concerned eyes. The gash on your arm is bleeding, it’s not as deep as the wounds on his body but still enough to make the metalhead feel worried for you.

Steve smirks to himself, despite the pain in his body, he can’t help but feel amused by Eddie. He stands there looking like a lost puppy as he watches you take care of another man. 

Before all of this, before Eddie got dragged into this mess, you and him didn’t really get along. Steve doesn’t know what happened between the two of you but there was always so much tension, he hated you and you hated him, at least that’s what he and the others always thought. 

You were the first to know where to find Eddie after he had gone missing, you were the one to calm him down when he held Steve against the wall, you were the one who held his hand when it was shaking so bad when he told you all what happened. 

Clearly, you never hated each other, you just hated the thought of liking each other so pretended. 

After stepping away from Steve, you turn away from the others, needing a moment to yourself. You walk around the rock until the others can’t see you, leaning against it, you look down at your arm, scrunching your face up when you see all the blood running down your skin. 

You press down on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. You hear footsteps coming, thinking that it’s either Nancy or Robin, you raise your head to look, instead of them, you find Eddie walking towards you. 

“Hey,” Eddie whispers, his big brown eyes filled with concern, it surprises you. 

“Hi,” you mumble. 

He steps closer to you, eying the marks on your neck, his eyes flash with anger and fear, he almost lost you. 

Looking down at your arm, his eyes widen, reaching out to touch you, he grabs your arm gently, “holy shit,” he mumbles, not wasting a single second, he reaches for his bandana in his back pocket.

“Eddie, you don’t have to–” 

“Shut up,” he mutters under his breath, sending you a glare. He brings the bandana up to your arm, placing it on your skin, he tries not to hurt you as he ties a knot. 

He stands so close to you, you can feel his breath on your skin, his touch sends shivers down your spine. For a moment, you let yourself admire him as he takes care of you. You would be lying if you said that he doesn’t make your heart flutter. 

“There, that’s better,” he whispers. His fingers still linger on your arm when he looks at you, he frowns, bringing his hand up to your collarbones. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel him touching your neck, he frowns and his eyes look even sadder than before, “god, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you got hurt.” 

You got hurt but he is talking about something else. He wouldn’t know what to do if something much worse happened to you. 

Your lips part in surprise, a weird feeling rushes through you as your eyes lock. You look at each other in a way you haven’t allowed yourself to before. 

“Eddie,” you whisper, fearfully. 

You don’t know what you would do if something happened to him. 

You place your hand over his and hold it tightly against you. After years of pretending, you finally let him in and in return he does the same. He lets you in. You allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of each other, you no longer have to lie, you no longer want to deny yourself of your feelings for each other. 

You could both die any moment, though you promise yourself that you won’t let him die. 

He won’t let you die. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper as you bring your hand up to his face, cupping his cheek, “we’re both okay, right?” 

He can feel your heart racing beneath his hand, he doesn’t know whether it’s because of him or because you are scared. 

He nods, feeling his own heart skipping a beat when your thumb lingers on his bottom lip.

He looks into your glassy eyes, he smiles sadly as he memorizes every single one of your features. God, he loves you, he always did. 

“Do you remember when you asked me out in kindergarten?” You whisper, smiling at the memory. 

“Kindergarten,” he chuckles, nodding his head, he smiles, “yeah, you rejected me. That was super mean of you, by the way.” 

“Yeah and then you were mean to me for the rest of my life.” 

He shakes his head, “the rest of your life?” 

“Yeah,” you shrug, “I mean, this might be the end.” For you.

His smile falls, his heart drops a little. The look in your eyes is one of longing, sadness and determination. You will do anything to prove his innocence, you will do anything to save him, to get him out of here. 

You are ready to die for him not knowing that he is ready to die for you. 

He shakes his head, cupping both of your cheeks, he leans down, “this is not the end, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

“It’s not?” 

“No, it’s not,” he pauses, his thumb catches a fallen tear, he wipes your cheek and leans his forehead against yours, “we’re both getting out of here alive, we’re all getting out of here.” 

“Promise me?” You whisper with your shaky voice. 

“I promise, sweetheart.” 

You smile at him as you hold his hands tightly. 

“You should ask me out again,” you murmur, breaking eye contact as you feel yourself growing flustered. 

Eddie grins, his eyes light up at your words. He takes a moment, letting his inner child celebrate the fact that you finally give him something he always wanted; You.

“Princess,” he starts, using the nickname he had used before when you were little kids, “will you go on a date with me after we get out of this shithole?” 

You giggle, nodding at his words as your eyes meet his again, “yes, please.” 

He smiles brightly, "finally," he whispers, making you giggle.

Despite the current circumstances, Eddie couldn’t be happier. A new hope fills him, he wants to get out of here, he wants to fight his way out, with you and for you. 

He knows that things will get worse before they get better but he is determined to fight for a future with you. 

So he kisses your cheek and takes your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours. He makes a promise to you and he will keep it. 

“We’re getting out of here, sweetheart.” 

[braveclementine]

I'm Running Out of Chapter Names

Warnings: 18+readersonly, pet names, oral, daddy kink, smut, lots of angst, fluff

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs, which consist of Penny Fury, Elizabeth Nelson, Elijah Chan, Katya Venice, Violetta Moscow, Lan Le, Josh, Trang Tien, Ahni Jallow, Mai Ito, and Ghaida Kashual as well as other OCs that will come up throughout the story.

Ghaida in her bridesmaid dress at Elizabeth and Elijahs' wedding. 

🫔👩‍🎓 şŤㄖℝү 😱🥗

"Tony." Trang whined, pushing away the man hovering constantly by her side. "I'm pregnant, not handicapped or dying. I need my work space."

"Sorry." Tony retreated like a puppy with his tail between his legs, hovering at a much better distance, "I'm just worried."

"Yes, and I love that about you, but I'm fine. The lil' baby is fine. We're all fine. Now go back to your work bubs." Trang smirked, pushing her glasses up on her nose, turning back to her new project.

They were new arrows for Clint, Katya, and Kate. Inspired by Elizabeth's water, any person hit with them would turn into a cube of ice. But there were still a few kinks that had to be worked out with the firing of the tips.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? Maybe you shouldn't be on your feet right now." Tony fretted, pacing a little.

Trang put the arrows down, turned, and walked over to Tony. She pushed him down into his chair and straddled him. Bruce looked up from his work and started to watch.

"Tony." Trang said in a warning voice. She wrapped her hand tightly around his tie. "You really, really need to be a good boy, okay?"

"Yep." Tony piped out, wrapping his arms around her waist, leaning forwards to kiss along her collarbone.

"You're being bad." But Trang laughed as he tickled her lightly, hugging him tightly. "Damnit Tony."

"I'm gonna tell Cap you said a bad word." Tony said gleefully, standing up with her in his arms, kissing her again, and then putting her down on her feet, "I am sorry about the hovering. I'm just excited."

"I know." Trang said softly, cupping his face and rubbing her thumb against his cheek. "I'm excited too Tony, but I didn't want a baby to change the way you treat me. That's all. I'm fine. Nothing's changed."

"You're gonna be a mom." Tony whispered against her hair. "Of my child. God I fucking love you."

Trang smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Now go work Tony."

"Yes momma." Tony kissed the top of her head and went back to his work station.

Bruce chuckled and went back to work as well. Trang winked at him, "Love you too Bruce."

Bruce laughed louder now and said, "Love you too Trang. I sort've love you Tony."

"Hey, feelings mutual man." Tony smirked, clapping the other male scientist on the back.

And behind the corner of the wall, a young African American girl clenched her fists in jealousy.

❌🥿 𝕡Ỗｖ 𝐜ⓗÃή𝓰ε 🦔🔭

"You're getting so big." Steve whispered. Penny was laying in his bed, the two of them alone together as Steve ran the fetoscope across her stomach, the two of them looking at the rather large baby inside of her now. "Aww he's so cute."

They didn't know the gender yet, being only roughly five-ish months now and not wanting to know until he or she was birthed. Penny still wasn't sure with names. Names were such a big responsibility. I mean, she would literally give this baby a name of which they would be called for the rest of their lives.

"Does he hurt you at all?" Steve asked in worry. "Rue kicked Elizabeth really hard when she was inside her womb. I'm sure mine will do the same."

"He doesn't kick to much." Penny said, which was true. "He's very calm so far. I'm sure later he'll kick though. But it's okay. Plus, Rue had to share room with Kisa and Mateo. This little one gets all of the room to himself." She giggled and Steve chuckled.

"I love you." Steve sighed in content, running his lips across her bump now. He kissed there sweetly and when Penny let out a soft, breathy moan, Steve smirked. He kissed lower, before slowly undoing the button of her jeans. He looked up at her through his lashes and Penny whimpered.

"You in the mood sweetheart?" Steve asked softly, slowly pulling the jeans off.

"Fuck yes." Penny fell back into the pillows as he started to touch her against her lacey lingerie.

"How do you want me to be tonight?" Steve whispered against her baby bump, kissing the mounded skin sweetly. "Demanding, sweet, loving, harsh? I don't know how you're body is feeling today so I need you to tell me."

"I want. . . a mix of sweet and demanding." Penny whispered. "I want to follow your orders, but I also need the motions to be. . . gentle today."

"Good girl. You're so good for me." Steve hummed, kissing up her thigh now, before licking a stripe through her pulsing cunt. She whined right then and there, already turned on immensely. "Oh Steve!"

"Yes, moan my name cookie." Steve mumbled against her pussy, nipping at her clit now, his large hands clenched tightly on her thighs. "I want to hear you scream when you let go now, okay? I want you to scream my name so loudly that Sammy can hear you from the roof and Bruce can hear you from the lab. Scream cookie."

His fingers pushed into her pussy, curling on her g-spot almost instantly and she arched off the bed, screaming his name till her voice felt hoarse. Black spots danced in front of her eyes and she collapsed back down on the bed, panting.

Steve hovered over her, his face amused. "Oh sweetheart. I haven't even touched you with my cock yet. If that's how you react with my fingers. . . oh cookie."

Penelope whimpered, reaching for Steve with her hands, "Please Captain? I want you inside of me."

Steve teased her clit a little longer between her fingers before he lifted her hips up. "Yes, I want to be inside of you too sweetheart. God you have such a pretty pussy. She feels like silk around me." He pushed inside, groaning, tossing his head back. "Oh you're so perfect."

"Yes." Penny sighed in pleasure, closing her eyes, tilting her head against the pillow. "Oh Stevie, that feels so so good."

"Good." Steve whispered sweetly, laying over her a little more, causing a little more pleasure. "I'm gonna roll over now, okay?"

Penny hummed and Steve rolled over so that she was now over him, sinking down on his cock a little more. Steve grabbed fistfuls of each cheek, squeezing, massaging, then spanking her a little bit. "You're gonna let me know if I spank you to hard, right cookie?" Steve asked, breathless as he continued to cup and clap her cheeks.

"Of course daddy." Penny moaned out without thinking.

Steve slapped her ass a little harder, "Daddy huh?"

Penny looked down and blushed heavily. "I- Tony-"

"No, no, don't make excuses." Steve smirked now. "It's been a while since someones called me daddy in bed." He thrusted a little harder now and Penny moaned loudly at the pleasurable feeling. "And I am gonna be a daddy aren't I? Oh yes, you can call me that again. Go on, scream it." Steve's eyes twinkled with mischief.

Steve rocked her against his hips and Penny moaned as his length stretched her walls different ways as she was rocked against him. "Oh fuck! Fuck! St- Daddy!" She collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily as her body spasmed over his.

"Oh fuck." Steve shouted, cock twitching inside of her at the nickname. "Shit cookie. Oh!" He spilled into her almost immediately, burying his face in her neck.

The two of them recovered after a moment and Steve groaned, lifting her off of him slowly. "Shit sweetheart, did I hurt you?" He asked, touching her burning ass. "Shit!" he sat up, looking panicked.

Penny quickly grabbed his arm. "It felt amazing Steve. It didn't hurt at all, I swear. I loved it."

Steve relaxed, dipping down to capture her lips. She kissed back fiercely, wishing she had more strength to take control of the kiss. Steve pulled away slowly. "Do you want me to run you a bath or do you just want me to grab you a washcloth?"

"Washcloth." Penny mumbled, snuggling against him, wrapping her limbs around him like an octopus. "Already sleepy."

"Sleep cookie." Steve kissed the side of her head and smiled as she fell asleep.

🐾😨 ℙσ𝐯 ᑕħ𝒶ⓝＧє 🔬🥘

"Hey Elijah?" Elizabeth asked quietly. He paused, not having seen her where she was sitting, looking out the window of her bedroom at New York. He walked over to where she was, sitting down next to her.

"Yes, Milady?"

"The others are all pregnant, right?" She asked, looking over at him now. "Like, they got pregnant at the same time?"

"Yes. Loki and Thor did a fertility spell. I guess it was only supposed to be for Trang but. . . well I'm not sure how it traveled. But yes, everyone is pregnant from it." Elijah said. He smiled a little. "Natasha is probably happiest of them all. She couldn't have kids before."

Elizabeth nodded and then asked, "Was this before I died?"

He sucked in his breath and then said slowly, "Yes. Yes, they conceived before. . . but they didn't find out until a few weeks ago."

"That's why I'm not pregnant." Elizabeth sighed. "I lost my baby when I died, didn't I?"

"We don't know that you were pregnant." Elijah said. "There is always a-"

"Don't lie." Elizabeth sighed. "Every woman in this building is pregnant, even ones that couldn't have children because their reproductive organs were taken out, or had their tubes tied like Sharon."

Elijah blinked, "Run that last bit by me again? You know Sharon?"

"No her name was in the book. I don't really know who she is though." Elizabeth responded.

"Ah, you've been reading Ghaida's book." He murmured.

"Yeah. It's interesting." Elizabeth shrugged. She was quiet for a moment and then said, "So I had to be. Whose child was he?"

Elijah sighed, "Do you really want to know?"

"I have to." Elizabeth said.

"I don't know." Elijah said. "But Viden knows. . . if you ask him. If you really want to know. But Elizabeth. . . if you look into this. . . you're going to be upset. And make sure before you ask that you know you can handle the answer."

Elizabeth's eyes flashed- not the golden colour that Ghaida's did- but a lime green colour. And then the tears started to spill.

🐉🤼‍♂️ ⓅỖ𝐯 𝓒ⓗᗩｎｇє ⭕️🩹

Penelope was a little sore when she sat down and ate her dinner. Steve kept smirking when she would occasionally shift around in her seat. She kept playfully glaring at him.

Elijah seemed upset over something, looking down at his food and not really eating it. She wished that she could comfort him, but no one was interacting with him as he had asked not to be. So she wouldn't push his boundaries.

Sam and Bucky were on one side of the dinner table, laughing with Clint and Rhodey as they drank and told jokes.

Elizabeth suddenly came in, making a beeline straight for Sam. She just climbed on his lap, burying her face into his shirt, and burst into quiet tears. Everyone stared at her in surprise. Penny wasn't sure that she had seen Elizabeth with anyone so affectionately before since the. . . accident except for Elijah. Oh and Bucky one day but she hadn't been well that day.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?" Sam asked, trying to pull her back a little to see her face.

"I'm sorry." She hiccupped softly, but wouldn't lift her head.

Everyone then looked, bewildered, at Elijah. Penny saw he just looked even more depressed than before, glumly just staring at Elizabeth's back. He caught Penny's eye and sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"She asked Viden whose child she was pregnant with before she died." Elijah whispered quietly, as though hoping Elizabeth wouldn't hear.

Steve got up, moving over to put a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Twins." Elijah muttered. "One each."

Penny didn't look over at the super soldiers, not wanting to see any of their pain on their faces. But she couldn't help it, and peaked. Sam, Bucky, and Steve all looked like their hearts had just broken, and they probably had.

"I'm sorry." Elizabeth whimpered again.

Sam stood up, carrying her in his arms and the four of them left the room. Penny got up too and went over to Elijah. She put her hand lightly on top of his. He turned his hand upwards to lace their fingers together, but didn't look at her.

"Are you okay?"

"I feel helpless." He sighed. "I can't do anything to help her. I can't. . . I don't know. I can't reverse time."

"How'd she find out anyways?" Penny asked.

"She just put two and two together. Everyone being pregnant including Natasha meant she should've been pregnant. But the date was before the death. . . so she kind've knew. And now she's also connected to Viden so. . . " Elijah shrugged. He glanced over at her, "Do you want to stay in my room tonight?"

Penny smiled a little. "Sure."

He led her to a different room that was very clearly Elijah's. Posters of different parts of Hong Kong, glass frames that held different bird feathers- each one clearly labelled. There was a small bookcase that had mostly bird books on it, also small figurines of carved birds. There was a pair of binoculars on the shelf, along with two different kinds of cameras.

There was a map of the world up against another wall, different coloured push pins in it, with small labels of which birds he hadn't seen yet and where they were. There was a large binder that was open to a page. There were polaroid pictures in it, of birds he had caught in the wild. There were also sketch books lined neatly in a box, loose scraps of paper showing pencil drawings of birds.

Penny looked over at Elijah. The slightly awkward way of which he was standing, as though waiting for a judgment call meant that she was probably one of the few people to ever be in his room.

"So you like birds?" Penny teased, carefully turning a page in the binder. There was a small journal beside it, listing all sorts of attributes for different birds. What they ate, scientific names, where they lived, what their nests looked like, their predators, their different colours, even strange put together words for what their different calls sounded like.

"I love them. Have, ever since I was a little boy." Elijah said quietly. "There's something about being in the sky, being free. Without being in an airplane or an Iron man suit. I sort've get to experience it. Mai did, Elizabeth can sort've, Katya and Sam also sort've. But Lan. . . Lan had it. His descriptions were amazing, the way he described flying. Sometimes. . . I wish I could fly like that."

Penny looked over at him, "Do you ever wish that you could just. . . fly away?"

Elijah looked up at the ceiling and Penny glanced up. The ceiling had been painted to look almost 3-D. With blue sky and white fluffy clouds that looked as though you could actually go behind them. "Steve did them." Elijah said when he saw Penny had looked up too. "For me." He sat down on his bed.

"There were times I did wish I could fly away from everything. But it wouldn't solve anything." Elijah said. "And are things difficult now? Yes. But weren't they always? Yes. And do I love the people closest to me enough that I wouldn't fly even if I could? Yes."

He lifted his shirt up over his head, tossing it in the hamper. It was the second time that Penny had seen him bare and she looked at the cheetah tattoo that was sprawled across his chest. He touched it unconsciously. "I love her, you know. More than anything in the world. She's so. . . confused. And hurt. She can't understand her emotions and even when she does she doesn't know why she feels a certain way. And I can't help her. Not really."

"Are you. . . upset that she's turned to others?"

"No." Elijah said firmly. "But I'm upset that she doesn't understand that things that happen to her, aren't her fault. That losing the twins in her wasn't her fault. She had no idea she was pregnant, had no idea she was going to die. I should've kept her home. I should've. . ."

"How were you supposed to know?" Penny asked, sitting next to him. "She didn't know, you didn't know. The only one that would know is Ghaida and she didn't ask. She didn't think to ask. You say Elizabeth shouldn't blame herself, but neither should you."

"I'm supposed to protect her."

"You're supposed to love her." Penny corrected. "But you can't shelter her every step of the way either."

Elijah was quiet for a moment and then said, "It didn't stop there. Her asking Viden about what she lost. She asked about her past. Kept asking and asking. She found out about the rapes and she's just. . ." He broke. Sobbing into his hands.

Penny pulled him into her, letting him cry into her. "I can't. . . I don't know how to do this! It wasn't supposed to be me!"

"It's okay." Penny whispered softly, both startled and sad as he cried in her arms. Even when he lost his best friends, lost Elizabeth, he hadn't broken down like this. His tears had been stoic, had been silent. Now he was like a child, unable to stop the waterfall. "It's okay."

"I'm not supposed to be alive." Elijah sobbed. "It was supposed to be Lan. It was. . . "

Penny hugged him tightly, just holding him until he'd worn himself out. When he had, he sat up, clearing his throat, scooching off the bed and going to the bathroom. When he came back, she saw he had washed his face with a washcloth.

He cleared his throat again, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize." Penny said softly, reaching out hesitantly to touch the ends of his hair. He leaned into her touch and she cupped his face, "Elijah, you're human. You're allowed to feel this way, you're allowed to show your emotions this way."

"I'm supposed to be a man." Elijah sighed. "The strong one. How can I be that, do that, when I break down like that? That's not who I am, human or not."

Penny smiled a little in understanding. "It shows you care about her. It shows that you do love her more than anyone else in your life. It's okay Elijah, I'm not going to judge you or think less of you because you showed emotions."

Elijah looked at her then, "You know that when I say I love Elizabeth more than anything in the world, I still love you too right? It doesn't mean-"

"Elijah." Penny put her hand over his. "I know that. We can't love everyone equally, we're always going to have favorites. I mean. . . okay don't tell them I said this but I love both Violetta and Katya. . . but I love Violetta more. But I still love Katya, you know?"

"Exactly." Elijah said softly and then started to smirk, "I know who you love the most though."

"Who?" Penny said, smirking because he was never going to guess it. The one she loved the most, the one at the top of her list was someone she almost never got to sleep with. But she loved him the most.

"Rhodey." Elijah smirked, opening his eyes to see the stunned look on her face, "Am I right?"

"H-how- no way- how did you-" Penny blushed bright red.

Elijah chuckled, "I admit, it was a bit surprising considering the two of you don't interact to much. But I have a few guesses. One, I think he reminds you of the character that your father has. Some of the same personality traits. Two, he's extremely sweet. He's really your ideal lover based on your type. And three, you're attracted to African American men first. So him, Sam, Heimdall, and T'Challa are all at the top of your list. And I bet if you'd known Josh a little longer he would have climbed up there as well."

Penny's face was burning as he said all of this and she covered her face with her hands, "Oh God, am I really that obvious?"

"No. I don't think Rhodey knows, whether that's good or bad news to you. I'm just extremely observant." Elijah said. He paused and then added, "I also went to college for psychology so there's that."

Penny laughed nervously. "I just, I did think it was a little weird, loving Rhodey the most when I barely interacted with him."

"You're not weird, it's not weird." Elijah reassured her, turning off the light and covering both of them with the sheets. "And listen, if you want more time with Rhodey, his Wednesdays and Sundays are always free. I can even help you out."

Penny buried her face into his chest. "What if he doesn't like me like that though?"

Elijah snorted, "Then he's a dumbass."

"I think he likes Elizabeth better." Penny said uncertainly.

"So? Who cares?" Elijah asked and then chuckled, "It's not like he's your only man Penelope. But if it makes you feel any better, he really does like you. He has been looking for more time to spend with you, he just has been busy with the army. Same with Stephen and the Sanctorum. Want my advice? Tomorrow is Wednesday, so spend it with Rhodey. And when Stephen gets back from his mission, go spend some time with him. I think you'll feel better about everything."

"You should be a psychologist." Penny muttered.

"Good to know." Elijah laughed, putting his arm around her, holding her to him. "Goodnight sunshine."

"Good night hotstuff." Penny smirked into his chest.

"Oh you're definitely paying for that nickname later." Elijah whispered and Penny shivered as she fell asleep.

���🦷 ᑭ𝑜𝕍 ｃĦ𝔸ηĞⒺ 🛫🩺

Sams' heart was hurting. A lot.

He, Steve, and Bucky had retired back to Steve's room- which at this point was basically all three of them room- and he was rocking back and forth with Elizabeth in his arms. She wasn't exactly sobbing, though sometimes as she tried to speak, the crying would make it incomprehensible to hear her through her hics.

"Sugar." He whispered softly, "Sugar please look at me."

Elizabeth looked at him with watery eyes. Steve and Bucky sat on either side of him, both looking lost and concerned. Neither of them knowing how to help.

"Please tell me why you're so upset." Sam whispered. He could understand, to an extent. That she had been pregnant with twins. One his, one Buckys. But to apologize to him? And it wasn't like it was her fault she had been killed. No one had known she was pregnant and she hadn't been the only one. Mai had been pregnant too, with Visions child and she was still dead.

"B-because I- I lost y- your child." Elizabeth hiccupped, not crying at the moment. "I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't- I didn't-"

"Doll." Bucky whispered softly, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Doll calm down. It's. . . it's not your fault. It's okay, alright? We're not mad at you because you didn't do anything. It's not like you wanted to die. And you didn't know you were pregnant."

Sam had stilled and Elizabeth was now rocking back and forth herself, looking uncertain. "B-But I lost them. I'm sorry!"

She dissolved into tears again. Sam noticed she couldn't even look at Steve and Sam gave Steve a raised eyebrow. Steve moved then, taking Elizabeth out of his arms. Steve curled Elizabeth into his chest, smoothing her hair back from his face. "I'm sorry." Elizabeth whimpered out, covering her eyes with her fists. "I'm sorry."

"Cookie." Steve whispered softly. "Why won't you look at me?"

"I don't want you to be mad at me. I'm so sorry." Elizabeth wailed. "I didn't want to lose the children."

"God cookie, I know that." Steve said softly. "Cookie, please look at me."

Her red eyes burned his heart. He inhaled deeply and cupped her face, "You're scared of me."

She shook her head vehemently, squeezing her eyes shut.

Sam exchanged a look with Bucky, who just looked lost.

Slowly, Steve asked, "Did Ghaida's book tell you that I would be mad at you?"

Elizabeth hesitated and then nodded, "I-It- the book- it had a page about s-someone named Sharon C-Carter. And that the two of y-you were having a baby. And you were mad at h-her because she l-lost it. A-A-And I don't want you to be-be-be mad a-a-a-a-t me for l-losing J-J-James and S-s-s-Sams' kids." Her sobs were frantic so that she could barely get the last few words out.

Steve sweetly kissed her cheek slowly and said, "I will never be mad at you cookie. Sharon was different. . . she didn't lose my child, like the way you did. You didn't mean it. You didn't know you were pregnant or you would have protected them and stayed home. You didn't mean to die and lose them. Yours was an accident. But Sharon's was on purpose."

"She killed her child?" Elizabeth's eyes went round with fear, shrinking down a little.

"Not in the way you're probably thinking." Bucky said quickly. "The child wasn't born yet, she was still in Sharon's womb. But there's this thing now that's called abortion. And it's where a woman can go in and the doctor will. . . well I'll skip the gruesome parts, but ultimately it kills the baby inside."

Elizabeth's eyes startled the three of them as they went from brown to a flat lime green. She said softly, "Planned Parenthood was a clinic established in black communities by Margaret Singer in 1916 in New York as part of the Ku Klux Klan to try and stop the black population from growing. Abortion is considered healthcare and is pushed by Feminists to encourage women to climb the corporate ladder." She blinked, her eyes returning to brown.

"Sounds about right." Sam muttered darkly.

"Why do your eyes turn green?" Bucky asked in interest, hoping to turn conversation to a lighter topic. And also if Elizabeth was distracted, she wouldn't be upset anymore.

"Viden said that every human has an aurora around them that we can't see." Elizabeth said, Buckys' wishes coming true as she was almost smiling now. "And that aurora would be our scent if we could do magic. And my scent is lime, so my eyes turn the colour of limes. Ghaida's eyes turn gold because her scent is oranges."

"Interesting." Steve looked dumbstruck. "Although I don't understand the magic part."

"It's based on a book series called The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel. Or really, the author got the idea from Viden. He was. . . an auraling." Elizabeth said softly, eyes fluttering as she started to feel fatigued. All of the crying had clearly tuckered her out.

"Do you want to stay with us tonight?" Steve asked softly.

Elizabeth hesitated, hands clutching the front of Steve's shirt, "You're not. . . you're not-"

"I know this could be to soon." Steve whispered softly, cupping her cheek, "Maybe I shouldn't be saying this, maybe it's to soon, maybe I'll scare you away. . . but I'm not mad Elizabeth. I. . . I love you. And I know that you barely know me, I get that. But you're so sweet and I know your past self and I know you're beating yourself up over something you can't control, something that you can't blame yourself before. And I want to reassure you that I will never be mad at you, never hate you, because I love you."

Bucky's eyes were wide behind Elizabeth's back and Sam had frozen like a deer in headlights. Steve's heart immediately started pounding in his chest at their reactions. He felt that he had said the wrong thing now.

Slowly, Elizabeth whispered, "I liked hearing you say that. It made me. . . happy."

Steve relaxed, feeling like he'd just had a rush and now he had come down from it. He tilted her chin towards him. "Doll, may I kiss you?"

Elizabeth didn't answer, leaning forwards and kissing him first, her eyes closed. He kissed her gently, tasting lime on her lips and he nearly chuckled. He pulled away slowly, not wanting to overwhelm or push her.

"I- I think I love you too." Elizabeth whispered, though she looked uncertain. "But I- I'm not sure about my emotions. I don't always. . ."

"It's okay." Steve interrupted calmly. "You don't have to worry about that cookie. Just let me love you and if you ever feel the same, then you can let me know. But you don't have to push it. I don't ever want to make you unhappy."

Elizabeth slowly got off of him, looking at Bucky. "Can I- May I kiss. . . you?"

"Of course doll." Bucky smiled, gently cupping her cheek. Steve relaxed into the pillows as they both kissed. Bucky sucked on her bottom lip a little, before releasing her and she looked a little dazed as she pulled away.

Elizabeth turned to Sam, blushing now, "Sammy?"

"Yes sugar?"

"Is it okay if I. . . are you alright if I kiss you too?"

"More than alright sugar." Sam grinned, closing his eyes as he felt her soft lips against his. She kissed him a little longer than the other two, now that she was a little more confident, although she was still blushing like fire as she pulled away.

Then she climbed under the covers, clutching tightly to Steve and Sam's shirts with her hands, her leg resting against Bucky.

Steve and Sam cuddled her as Bucky got out of bed, turning off the light, and then laying down by her legs.

"Good night Sugar."

"Good night Sammy. Good night James. Good night Stevie." Elizabeth mumbled sleepily.

"Good night doll." Bucky and Steve replied together, and then the four of them fell asleep. 

[imyourbratzdoll]

Saw your angst post. So hears my idea and you can decline if you want to.

Bucky and reader been getting into a major arguments about how he’s been gone/ going on to many missions and reader ends up thinking he’s cheating on them. Anyways one day he comes home from one really bad mission and they fight and reader confesses and Bucky being angry in the moment says something that heist the reader’s feelings.

You can decide if you want it to stay an angst ending or have fluff one :)

hello, sorry this took so long. I hope you enjoy it, gonna be honest, it made me tear up haha.

summary - bucky shouldn't have gone on that mission.

warning - swearing, angst and maybe some heartbreak.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

Y/n frowns, her eyes cast down as she stares at an old photo, focusing on the person smiling back at her, wondering where it all went wrong. One day she and Bucky were happy and in love, and now.

There’s been a cloud above their heads, and smiles turned to frowns, loving words turned nasty and hurtful. Y/n wonders if Bucky really is out on missions, wonders if he’s found someone better instead.

A sniffle fills the room, and she thinks it may be time to confront him. Y/n hears the door open, making her quickly stand up and run her hands down her face as she wipes her tears away. She straightens out her clothing, trying to make herself presentable, gently placing the photo back down before walking out of the room.

The moment she exits the room, her eyes connect with his tired blue ones before slowly taking in the dark bruises covering his gorgeous face and noticing the slight limp he has when he steps forward to place his things down. Bucky grunts, eyes moving away from Y/n’s as he heads toward the kitchen to grab a drink. Y/n nibbles on her bottom lip before making her way to the kitchen, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to find her words.

Bucky slams his fist down on the counter before swiftly turning and glaring at Y/n, “What? What could you possibly want right now?!” He runs a hand down his frustrated face, feeling the anger from his mission bleed into his relationship. 

“I–I” Y/n’s brows furrow, trying to find the words she’s looking for. She begins to fumble with her fingers as his glare cuts through her. 

“You what?! Can’t you see that I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now?! I don’t see you going out and saving people!” Bucky takes a deep breath in, feeling his anger roll through him like waves, his fists clench by his side. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?! Be more like….” He pauses before turning back to his drink.

“Be more like?! Who? Who the fuck should I be more like?!… So it’s true.” Y/n shakes her head, turning and storming off to the bedroom. Stopping short as a hand wraps around her wrist, pulling her back.

“What’s true?!” Bucky’s brows furrow more, lips curling into a snarl as he glares down at the love of his life, not understanding the heartbreak she’s going through and probably never will.

“That most of your missions aren’t missions! That really you are off with someone far better, and you just proved it!” Tears begin to well up in Y/n’s eyes as she tries to pull herself free from Bucky, wanting to get far away and not hear him confess. 

Bucky tightens his grip, pulling her tightly against him. “Are you fucking serious right now?! So while I’m off risking my fucking life and you do fuck all with yours, you think I’m fucking someone else?!” Bucky’s anger builds faster, not noticing the look on Y/n’s face as he breaks into a laugh. “You know what, so what if I was! I come home, and we fight. You don’t show me any fucking attention anymore.” He leans down, face lining up with Y/n’s as he stares deep into her eyes with a sneer. “So what if I was fucking someone better.”

A gasp falls from Y/n’s lips, tears freely falling now as she manages to pull free from the man she thought she once knew. “Y–you don’t mean that….” She begins to shake her head, not wanting to believe it to be true, wishing that this was all a horrible dream and that she’ll wake at any minute with a sweeter, softer Bucky comforting her. Not this monster that stands in front of her.

Bucky chuckles, turning his back on her as he gulps the rest of his beer. He shrugs, ignoring the pounding in his head as his other side, the loving side of Bucky, pounds against his mind, begging him to shut up, begging him to grab hold of her and not let her go, screaming that he only loves Y/n and he hasn’t even looked at another woman. The Bucky on the outside winces at the voices and pounding in his head whilst walking over to the couch and sitting down. He watches as Y/n leaves. Her bags are packed as she looks sadly at his emotionless face. He grunts again as the man inside him screams, heartbroken and begging to stop her. 

Maybe Bucky shouldn’t have gone on that mission.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

part 2

[st4rbwrry]

constant bullshit.

━━━━━━━━ eren yeager.

ャwarnings; angst, quiet sex, broken relationship, eren’s really in love with reader, impact play, oral (m.received), floor sex, unprotected sex, fem!reader.

“Hey, baby.”

That sly smirk on his face he does after winking, innocently whisking the bowl of corn bread batter next to your mother in the kitchen who shares somewhat the same smile, but hers is more pleading-like. It reads 'for the sake of the holiday, please get along.' Your face on the other hand? It reads nothing but irritation. Your red sweater is balled into your fists on the side of your hips, sending Eren a straight hard glare. Only one question remained; what the fuck is he doing here? You broke up three months ago. Done. Nothing is there anymore—at least on your side of it. Why is he spending time with your family on thanksgiving like you're a happy couple? Putting on a fake act as if he's the victim. He wronged you. Not the other way around.

   "Mom?" You raise an obvious eyebrow, waiting for a proper answer to a question you never asked. Your face did it for you.

   "I invited Eren because he's on break and figured it'd be nice to have him over. We love him."

   I don't. "With no reconciliation of me, huh?"

  "Don't be like that, baby," Eren sighs, coming around the marble kitchen island, height towering over your own.

   "No," you sternly state, shaking your head. "Cut that."

   "Sorry, it's a habit," he clenched his jaw, running his wide palm over the top of his head to brush back some of his chocolate hair.

   "Half the families already here. Let's just eat and enjoy the night, okay? I'm pretty sure you can be cordial."

   Your mothers words fly over your head. Cordial? Eren didn't know the definition of the word. He's the type of person to eye-fuck you across the table during prayers. That's why you couldn't even be friends if you wanted. Surprisingly, he keeps his head bowed when you're all wrapped around the family table hand in hand. It's when you're eating that you feel his eyes burn into your face every time you try to avoid him. Those damned green eyes of his, like pretty jewels stolen from a hidden cave. He himself is the epitome of pretty. It sucks you had to let go of such a mesmerizing man. One who made your face hurt when you smiled too much. Who kissed you until your lips were bruised. A man who fucked you dumb and ruined practically any other man of having the chance to top him. It's true, as much as you dread to admit.

Clean up is usually left to your mother and her tipsy friends, so while the kids are playing the PlayStation down the hall, and the men are lost in football, you take this chance to drag Eren up to your room. He spills some of his liquor from how roughly you tug on him, setting his glass down on a nearby table, swiping his wet chin clean with his hand and obliviously disappearing behind you. Part of him knows what's going to happen. You're going to complain about him accepting your mothers offer of being here, cuss him out about some other bullshit, maybe even cry if you still have it in you. Anger tends to sit inside you for a while.

   Truth be told, he genuinely wanted to have a conversation with you. It's been so long since he's seen or spoken with you, and deep down inside, it pains him. Aimless had been a form of symbolism for you and Eren's relationship. Arguments were consistent, attempts to improve yourselves were pointless, and even cooperation skills were off balance. No matter how many times you tried to help Eren overcome his fear of commitment, he'd find a way to make it seem like you were forcing him into something he didn't want to have. Never wanted to have. The two of you had been on and off spouses for the past three years, and yet, he still couldn't accept the fact that someone was trying to love him as best as they could. He was ungrateful for it. He had this lucid indication of having nonexistent relationships with any and every one that tried to be apart of his life. He was terrified of being rejected, therefore, he was terrified of being hurt.

   He found relationships a waste of time as well as a source of therapy two people join just so they could help each other pick one another up and erase all the trauma from their pasts. And then, once they were healed, they'd take everything they learned from that person and move to the next to give someone else the better version of themselves, leaving behind the person that stuck with them through thick and thin torn apart. It was a game. A sick one. Though, you didn't see it that way, and that wasn't your intentions at all. Far from, actually.

   Eren had been the only man you had ever truly loved. You went through hell and back to keep him in your life and show him that you were someone who cared for him no matter what shit ruined him in the past. It was hard, to say the least. Trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with him that made him act this way toward you. It's like he purposely didn't want to see that you were a good woman. One last argument was all it took for you to realize that the one who'd really been wasting their time was you. Configuring a valid point that he was ungrateful, stubborn, and unable to see you for who you were had been thrown at his face in heated streams of shouts as he kept his distance from you as he sat on his bed with his arms folded and tears falling down his face.

   There wasn't anything left to say, or do. You had given every single aspect of yourself to him and yet Eren didn't return the favor. The only reason why you stayed and decided to try was because of this burning love you had for him that you couldn't contain and help but express. You watched him silently cry as you gathered your things in duffle-bags and called an Uber to your house since your car had been in the repair shop. He couldn't find words to say. There was a lot he wanted to speak his mind about but he knew that everything you yelled at him about—you were right. He threw his phone at the door you slammed on your way out, heavily stomping down the stairs and heading out the front door, the object shattering to pieces as he cursed at himself. What hurt you the most was him not making the effort of running after you to bring you back which meant that he really didn't care about the damage he had caused.

   He regrets it all.

   "Talk."

   Eren stands before your nightstand with his hands tucked into his dark jean pockets, muscles shifting in the cotton gray long sleeve clinging to his skin. His hair is half tied into his signature bun on the back of his head, a few strands dangling over his sad face. Sad. It's so vivid in his eyes that he looks upset. You swallow, keeping your distance and staying leaned against your locked door.

   "I miss you," is what he starts with.

   You scoff, rolling your eyes. "You don't miss me."

   "Don't tell me how I feel," Eren grits his teeth. "You've no idea the shit I put myself through because I hated how I treated you."

   "Why do it in the first place?" You arch your brow.

   "Look, me and you have been with each other since we were kids. Relationship aside, you were my best friend first. As a lover, you meant the absolute world to me—"

   "Bullshit—"

   "Even if I didn't express it the way you wanted," he finishes, ignoring your attitude. He understands you're trying to barricade your feelings so you don't grow attached to him again. But, he doesn't care. He wants you to love him again. Deep down he knows you still do. And he wants you to understand that he loves you more than anything.

   "I love you," Eren fixes his posture, saying it as if he released a fresh exhale of air. You blink. "And I'm sorry it took me so long to express it fully. I can admit I have heavy trauma when it comes to past relationships, you know that. You know everything about my past. My fears, my triggers. What I'm sorry for mainly is not giving you the credit you deserve. You put your all into me and I acted like it didn't mean shit when it did. I just couldn't find the words to say it."

   Eren fixates on the way you swallow, breaking eye contact and staring at your feet. "Why wait now to say this? Why did it take you all these years to realize that I wanted you to be loved? Why put me through the constant bullshit? The tears? The panic attacks when you'd go days without speaking to me? When I'd find you drunk inside bars at three in the morning?"

   "Because I was fucked up. I’m telling you now that I’ve changed. I’m not that same asshole, promise you. I just need you with me again. Not to feel sane, not so I’m another project for you to fix—but because I can’t imagine life without you apart of mine.”

   It’s hard to hear this now. If only he’d said this a few months back, you wouldn’t be here now. It’s too late. “I don't want to put myself through that pain again. I can't be with you, Eren."

   "You don't have to put up an act for me. You don't have to be the strong one anymore. Just let me carry you. Let me make up for all the shit you dealt with alone."

You turn your head as he stands before you, his hand coming to hold the side of your cheek, his warmth making your heart spark with something you haven’t felt in a long time. You inhale deeply, turning your body completely and reaching for the door, ready to leave. You were done with this conversation. But, Eren beats you to it, locking the silver knob and pressing you up against the door, hands resting on your thighs, slowly trailing up.

“Come on, baby,” your body tingles as his breath hits your ear, swallowing as he pries your stocking covered legs apart, the black skirt you wore riding up your ass. “Don’t be like that.”

“Eren, don’t,” you whimper as he drags your stockings down to your knees along with your panties, gasping when his heavy hand hits your ass.

“Stay there,” and then, he’s lowering to his knees, delicately spreading your cheeks apart before burying his face deep in your pussy, kissing it slowly and groaning to himself. “You know you miss me.”

You ball your fists up by your mouth, moaning as quietly as possible as your eyelashes flutter, the butterflies in your stomach flying rapidly as you listen to the way his tongue tastes you, the pads of his fingers denting the flesh of your thighs, bringing you closer to grind onto his face as he grunts and spanks you again, too loud this time. Your heart thumps erratically, terrified of one of your family members finding you in this state, although the doors were locked, that doesn’t mean the walls were soundproof.

“Eren, please. We can’t,” tears well in your eyes, hating your body for being so fucking submissive to him. A trader.

“We can’t. Yet your fucking my face like we can,” he chuckles, the sound so deep it makes your skin crawl. The green-eyed bastard licks his lips, tugging you down with him, immediately pinning you down on the floor.

“You know, baby. One things for sure,” you cling to the red sweater balled into your palms for dear life, unable to change what was to happen. Neither of you wanted to. It was best to just go through with it. As he kneels behind you, unbuckling his belt and pulling out his cock he taps on your ass, hiking your ass up so your arch is slanted, Eren sinks into you, releasing a deep side with his head thrown back, brown hair flowing prettily. “No matter how many times we separate—your pussy remembers its home.”

You cry into your sweater as he fucked you deep, not needing to be animalistic about it, because no matter what pace he chose, the feeling of him stretching you was just enough to satisfy you. He hisses like a snake behind you, fondling your ass, infinitely enamored by the way your flesh clapped against his hips. Your whines are symphonic, surging him in like a music box. Eren leans over you, locking his arm around your neck while pressing his palm flat to the wall before you both, face between your neck, his scent intoxicating, soft hair brushing over your forehead.

“My girl,” he kisses your temple, hastening his hips as he fucked you harder, mouth wetly panting onto his forearm as your eyes roll back, biting your lip to keep your voice down, feeling yourself dripping down your inner thighs, hearing the lewd noises of your slick squelching and covering his neatly trimmed pubic hairs. You choke, palms red from how hard you dug your nails into them, his body heat on yours driving you mad. “My baby. My wife.”

That ruins you, and the tears flood even more. Eren promised you from your first anniversary that he would marry you. He always called you his wife, gifting you a promise ring as reassurance that he meant what he said. You still had it tucked away in your jewelry box. You found it hard to believe considering his lack of commitment, but that ring somehow always gave you hope that he’d follow through with his promise.

“I love you,” you sigh, sniffling and closing your eyes, nodding as he repeats what you say as a question, kissing your face and hugging you tighter as if you’d slip away again. Not again. You couldn’t. Not when you loved him too much. Missed him. Craved him. Needed him.

“I got you, baby. I swear I’ll do better,” and it’s genuine, the shakiness in his voice tells you so as he continues to kiss you, snuggling his face into your neck as you turn your head to press your lips to his, Eren clutching the back of your head to hold you close, gently moving his lips with yours.

He shuffles you both closer to the wall, your chest pressed to it while his free hand reached between your thighs and stroked your clit delicately with his fingers, detaching your lips as your mouth parts. You moan his name as he moves his hips, slow stroking into you, making love to you like he’s dreamt of doing for months. You breathe into each other’s mouths, his piercing eyes focusing solely on you, your pleasure, your comfort. And when you reach your high, he kisses you even more, whispering how much he loves you over and over.

edit

© 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐯���𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞.

[whats-rambled-rambled]

the way down

Bruce Wayne x gn!Reader

summary: Those hospital scenes in the movie? Yeah, the plot here drops you right between them and takes it from there.

✨hurt/comfort✨

warnings: minor spoilers?, swearing, buckets of angst

author’s note: it's been a while! I missed sharing stories with you all and I think it shows, because this one is 4,4k words long, bloody hell.

And, as always, the song is Wax//Wane - The Way Down

This is a one shot, but as I might have cut it a little sooner than I originally intended, I think there's a potential for something more --

...but I'll let you be the judge of that. I'd love to hear what you think.

----

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Wayne said there were no other family members to notify–”

Of course he did. “Figures,” you crack a bitter smile at the visibly confused doctor. It’s not her fault. There’s no official blood relation between the man you see behind the glass and you, and you can’t produce proof of the bond you two share. Not on the spot, anyway. You pray that the guilt takes over and she lets you in without further prodding, before you lose the last bits of composure, continuously burning down like a fuse inside of your mind.

Must be something in your face that convinces the doctor that you’re not a mad terrorist, sent to finish a sloppy job. She moves out of your way, mumbling “We’re still waiting for him to stabilize.”

You swallow with effort and nod.

The smell of antiseptics grows stronger as you enter the room. If you ever felt like this is just a bad dream, it’s now waking you up, grounding you in reality, that here in front of you lies Alfred Pennyworth. The closest thing to family you have left. Unconscious. In critical condition.

You’ve been there before.

No. You’re not gonna fall apart now.

A shaky breath. Then another. Your legs feel like they weigh a tonne when you take a step towards the hospital bed.

“Hi.” You cringe at how hoarse you sound, so you clear your throat and fall on a chair at the bedside. “Can you believe that guy?” shaking your head, you grimace slightly. “Of course, you can. That’s Bruce for you, am I right?”

Silence.

Of course, you don’t really expect an answer. It still hits you like a train and tightens the ring around your chest.

So you decide to hold onto that thought. Anger. Anger is good. It doesn’t leave enough space for nauseating fear, only fed by the sickly greens of the walls, of Alfred’s gown, of the pale and unbruised parts of his face –

Fuck, you’re gonna strangle the man responsible for that, aren’t you?

You sink deeper into the chair, fists clenched on their own accord.

And to think that you fooled yourself into believing you made progress in building a relationship with that brooding brat.

It was not an easy thing. For most of the time, Wayne actively ignored you, whenever you visited his den. It was Alfred’s idea to let you in on the details of the whole vigilante business, after all. He’s kept an eye on you for all those years - something he’d promised your mother a long, long time ago. He knew you could be a valuable asset, and a trustworthy one; and he was the one to contact you with all the specifics of the software they needed.

Sometimes you got a call at the weirdest of hours; when there was either a brand new request or when the classic “have you tried turning it off and on again” was not enough and you had to troubleshoot on-site, you had to come over to lowest levels of the Wayne Tower.

That’s where you sat over various notes and schematics, scribbled in neat cursive. If Bruce was present, he was hunched at his desk, tinkering with his gear. Most of the time, he was still wearing smudged make-up, dark hair in complete disarray, blood-shot eyes rarely venturing in your direction. But you knew he was always listening because occasionally, he would scoff or clear his throat, and then Alfred, letting out the biggest sigh, would come over to him and grab another piece of paper with more notes, directly related to the thing you’d just discussed. You found that whole routine amusing - Alfred seemed to differ.

“Bruce, I really think it would be easier for all of us if you just came here and answered all those questions yourself.”

A dry, barely audible response. “I’m busy.”

“No, you’re fiddling.” A shadow of impatience ran through Pennyworth’s face. “Please.”

You almost expected Wayne to kick his chair on the way, and you stifled a giggle, trying to remain as professional as possible.

Since then, he kept his distance, but he was present, and it made the whole operation smoother. At first, you tried to keep the meetings as short as possible - sensing how uncomfortable, but mostly how tired he always was. Bruce never said it, you could tell he appreciated that, and you took advantage of every bit of time he was willing to give you.

But one day, you brought that brand new software you’d been working on together for months, and you had a chance to see whole other Bruce. He was genuinely excited. The blue eyes lit up when he ran the tests, his features softened, a satisfied smile danced in the corners of his mouth, and you realized you couldn’t focus on the screen in front of you anymore. And when he looked at you like he actually saw you for the first time–

That’s when everything changed. Bruce seemed to relax a little as if he allowed himself to be more open around you. Not fully lowering his guard, but enough to occasionally let a deadpan joke slip through - the first time it happened you almost choked on your saliva and grinned so hard you made the poor man flustered. But you played into it, and that kind of banter seemed to be another ice-breaker.

Next, Bruce started sharing with you the latest from the cases he was working on. Bits and pieces, but it gave you a better scope on his nocturnal endeavors. You even got a chance to see him in a full suit. He was hardly recognizable, not because of the cowl, cape, and all that, but because of how different he seemed, with straight back and confidence nowhere to be found in his usual oversized-t-shirt-wearing self. The intensity of his gaze, combined with a gentle pat on your arm and a simple “thank you” in this husky voice, and you were rendered speechless, probably for the first time since you’d met.

A distant noise pulls you back into the hospital room. Your mind desperately tries to grasp a fading memory of warmth spreading through your chest, the only distraction from the gnawing pain inside there now.

Maybe you confuse anger with disappointment?

No, that is not it. Because there’s another layer to it, and you need to know –

The doors behind you creak. Then, you hear a familiar quiet voice. “What are you doing here?”

You spring up from the chair and turn around, ready to snap back, but he’s not even looking at you. The blue eyes are transfixed on the man lying on the hospital bed behind you, but you’ve spent enough time around Bruce to see through his schooled features, and the blood in your veins, boiling after hearing the questions, freezes over. He’s broken. Desperate. Afraid. Forging numbness to be a tool and an armor.

Struggling to take a deeper breath, you take a step in his direction. “Bruce–”

He tenses even more, still avoiding your gaze.

“Why are you here?”

He can’t be serious. “You’re not the only person allowed to see Alfred as a father figure,” you spit out angrily.

Bruce knits his brows together and his lips part as if he wants to say something, but decides against it.

And it only adds to your frustration, because you recognize that stance. He’s not gonna let you in. He’s not even gonna look at you. You’re again an intruder, an unwelcome one, and that feeling is more than you can stand at that moment.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to stay,” you say with a bitter smile and walk towards the door, trying to ignore the growing void near your heart.

What did you expect?

A shred of comfort? A little band-aid on that crippling loneliness?

When you move past Bruce and he grabs your wrist, you inhale sharply.

Or an answer to a question?

“Was it because of you? Or because of Pointy?”

A barely contained flinch and there, finally, the stormy eyes meet yours, and the anguish you see in them makes you shiver.

“Does it really matter?” he asks, raspiness tainting the soft tones of his voice.

Maybe not.

Something you’ve been obsessing over for the past few hours boils down to the same person, whether you want to admit it or not - and you can't be around him anymore. At least not until–

It’s time for you to avert your gaze, and when you do, the hold on your wrist loosens.

“I’ll ask the doctors to let me know if anything changes,” you say, waving your hand dismissively, and reaching for the doorknob.

Silence.

Just as you expected.

You grit your teeth and disappear into the corridor.

____

How do you deal with a mind spiraling out of control?

You work.

Staring at the screens, typing lines after lines of code, then staring again, until your eyes burn, and your back aches and your stiffened body forces you to take a break.

Breaks. Those are the worst.

Because then the guilt reaches you twice as hard, and all you can see is Bruce’s face again. The way he practically winced under your accusation.

Was it rightful? Think of how he must feel, goddamnit, if it really is his fault.

The most hurt part of you says good, let him suffer, let him experience the pain himself, why should you be the only one broken?

And then you remember the look in his eyes and you hate yourself even more.

What if he needed you there? What if he also looked for support, and you weren’t there to give any?

Not what if. You know, deep down, that you screwed up. Like always.

So you dive back into work again until you slip into an anxious, dreamless abyss as you pass out at the desk.

______

Out of your apartment, there is no good view of the city, but a huge explosion, or rather a chain of them, is not something you can miss. It shakes glasses in the windows, and you drop everything you’re doing to glance outside, just to see the orange glows over various parts of the city.

Breathe, you don’t want to give in to that panic rising in your chest.

Your hands tremble when you scroll the newsfeed for any bit of information. The images you find on lifestreams are too much to comprehend, but then there’s screaming in the streets, and you realize, to your terror, that the water is already in the neighborhood. You want to call someone, anyone, but you know that the only person you want to hear is busy.

You’re never too worried about him, or so you tell yourself. But this night seems different, the stakes are higher, and you’re restless. Work can’t help with that, you can’t focus on anything.

The ruckus downstairs is driving you crazy.

You should put that phone down, you know.

Deep inhale and you do just that, but you also put on the news channel on a little TV in your kitchen and you do the next thing on your list for when you’re too paralyzed to do anything more constructive.

You bake.

It doesn’t matter what, sweet or savory, the process alone is so ingrained in your brain that your body moves around in a seamless dance - something you picked up growing up, and it was the only sure thing to get you through a crisis.

There are worse ways to cope, after all.

Soon enough, the apartment is filled with the smell of fresh bread, and because the oven is still hot and the end of this nightmare is nowhere near, you toss a batch of rolls in.

The dawn reaches you as you contemplate if you have enough ingredients for a cake. There’s a change in the news speaker’s voice and your head snaps at the TV screen.

“...the masked vigilante atop Gotham Square Garden, helping to save the lives…”

Did you hear that right?

Then you see him, as they show the images from a helicopter hovering over the rubbles of the venue.

The pointy ears on top of the cowl are unmistakable.

Tears burn in the corner of your eyes as you slide down along the cold fridge to the floor and hide your face in the floury hands.

—--

The water reaches your thighs and you shiver, trying your best not to think about the garbage floating around you. You secure the straps of your backpack and move forward through the flooded, empty streets. At least it’s not raining.

Few more blocks. You can do it.

The Wayne Tower’s door rises above the street level, and you enter the premises, dripping cold water all over the marble floors. You wave at the security guard and make your way to the elevators before he can drag you into a meaningless small-talk.

The fabric of your trousers clings to your skin and for a moment, you consider undressing to the underwear, just to get rid of the sensation.

That would be a sight.

You scoff and use a card key on the panel, allowing you to access the apartment levels - a privilege you earned some time ago, but never used to drop by uninvited.

Before you can change your mind, the elevator pings, and you are greeted by a troubled face of Dory, who must have been informed you are on your way.

You could have called.

“I’m so sorry, I know it’s early and I didn’t let you know I’m coming…“

“Nonsense, dear! Come in!” The maid waves her hand and beams, and you realize she is relieved to see that there’s no sign of any urgent emergency. Other than– “Oh my goodness, you’re soaked! Let me find a towel, do you need some fresh clothes?”

A tip of your nose tingles at the genuine care in her voice, but you shake your head. “No, please, I don’t want to be a trouble,” but she’s already gone and the next second she’s back with a big soft towel and a pair of black joggers.

“Now, off you go, we’ll talk once you’re dry and comfy,” she huffs and ushers you to the bathroom, clearly happy to see your cooperation. “Leave anything wet in the sink, I’ll take care of it in a moment.” You don’t have the energy to argue, and you know how persistent Dory can be if she senses she can be helpful in any way. When you’re done, she gives you a warm smile and asks, “What brings you in?”

A sheepish grin curls your lips and you open the backpack, then hand her a bag with the result of your insomnia.

“There’s some fresh bread in it,” you say as if the comforting scent coming from the bag isn't enough indication. “It’s gonna take some time before they reopen the stores, and I thought that maybe you need–”

Your confidence falters.

Because surely Wayne's pantry is stocked well enough to survive the mess outside, what were you thinking?

Not mindful of your doubts, Dory brightens up even more. “Oh, that is awfully nice of you, dear! I was just wondering if I should bake some myself, considering,” - she pauses briefly and gestures at the window - “I haven’t done that in years, I am afraid it would end in a disaster. Thank you for saving me the embarrassment.” Dory chuckles and sniffs the bag. “Nothing can beat that, don’t you think? Are you staying for breakfast?”

“Tempting, but business before pleasure ” you laugh, and dig out one more thing from the backpack and show her a pen drive. “I finished a project and I wanna leave it downstairs if that’s okay.”

—

Either the old underground tracks are better equipped to handle the flood than you'd expected, or the cave has an exceptional drainage system. Whatever it is, there are no signs of water damage, and you can finally let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Let’s cross electrocution out of the list of potential worries now, shall we?

Even with the computers running, the absence of their owner is almost palpable. It feels wrong, somehow, but all you can do is get to work. The update install goes smoothly, and soon you are almost ready to go.

There’s one more thing.

You unwrap a single bread roll from a napkin and place it on Bruce’s desk.

“They fit you better.”

You couldn't miss the sound of hangar’s door opening, unless–

He saw the proximity alert and used the other entrance.

And you’re at his desk and wearing his pants, apparently.

Fuck.

It takes everything not to groan, so you screw your eyes shut, praying for the earth to swallow you whole.

You turn around slowly, but when you see him, the question gets stuck in your throat.

He looks like a mess. Your gaze sweeps through the armor, but there’s so much mud in there you can’t figure out the damage, but when Bruce walks your way, he’s dragging his feet, and you’re sure he must be in a lot of pain.

“You shouldn’t have come, what if you got hurt–” he winces and stops. The stern edge in his stare slowly softens when you approach him, as his tone no longer rings with anger - just concern. “It’s too dangerous to move through the streets now. Whatever it is, it could wait.”

“Maybe. But I couldn’t.” You shift nervously under the inquisitive gaze from under a cowl, mustering all the strength to get to the point. “Back in the hospital… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay–”

“No, it’s not!” Your voice breaks and you wince, shaking your head. Shame burns in your throat as you stumble over the words, “I had no right to assume, I wasn’t thinking straight– …I got there already fuming, and then I saw Alfred, and–”

A gloved hand reaches out for your shoulder and draws you closer, and it’s enough to stop you in your tracks.

“It’s okay,” repeats Bruce. It takes only a heartbeat for you to give in to his embrace, and when you do, he adds, “I’m sorry too.” You hug him tighter and exhale shakily. It’s the anxiety from the past day, all that worry, fear, and having all your nerves exposed, and you blink the forming tears away, allowing yourself to find refuge in this moment. And even though the pulse is pounding in your ears, you hear another, barely audible, “It’s okay.”

Although you’re not sure if it’s still directed at you.

You pull back to look at Bruce, but then he moves away and takes off the cowl. The strands of dark hair stick out in every direction, then flop down, and you are about to make a comment about the mud complimenting his make-up, when you catch a frown and a painful grimace. The cowl misses the desk and lands on the floor, but Bruce doesn’t seem to notice, gripping at the edge of the table with his eyes closed and his jaw clenched.

You’ve seen him unmasking many times, and you know how much of a difference it can be when it comes to the way Bruce feels and behaves, but the physical side of it has never been clearer.

“Bruce…”

“I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are,” you scoff, but he gives you a warning glare, and you back out with your hands raised in a non-confrontational manner.

You won’t achieve anything that way.

Instead, you give him space, suddenly finding a screen behind you very fascinating. When thudding and shuffling stops and you hear a strained groan, you glance over your shoulder, only to find Bruce struggling to pull a t-shirt over his head. A huge bruise taints his scar-ridden chest, on top of the other ones scattered across his torso, but this big one looks particularly painful.

“A shotgun.” It’s not even a question, you’re just observing. Along with shaking knees, a brow covered in sweat, and pale skin peeking out from between the mud and residual eyeliner.

“Yeah.”

You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the aching heart and you gather all the patience left. But when he’s done and takes a step, then stumbles and almost collapses, you’re at his side in a second, cursing internally his stubbornness.

Despite his weak protests, you toss his arm around your shoulders, winding yours around his waist, and start kiting him towards the elevator.

“Shower or bed?” you ask because heaven knows he needs both.

“Bed.”

You nod as you hit the top button and the elevator moves with a rattle. The weight on your shoulders increases as Bruce leans on you as if he finally accepts his fate.

Before you can realize what you’re doing, your thumb strikes his side in a comforting way.

Don’t you panic now. It’s nothing.

It’s okay.

In the apartment, you quite expect Dory to greet you again, but she must be busy somewhere else. Maybe it’s for the best.

The floor plan of the gothic residence is confusing, but you’ve been here enough times to have a vague idea.

“Upstairs?” You glance at Bruce and he nods, his eyes fixed on the ground. Then you get to the study area and you whistle at the sight of the hardwood floors covered in pictures and spray paint. “Oh man, Alfred is going to kill you.” Hearing a scoff, you continue with a grin, “I can find you some big ass boards for your next brainstorming sesh if you want. It will save the old man a heart attack or two. God, how many stairs do you have here–”

You can see a corner of his mouth twitch in a weak smile when he reaches for the stone balustrade to put some weight off of your shoulders. It helps, even though you aren’t complaining, as much as hiding irrational nervousness with rambling.

Why is the thought of seeing his bedroom so agitating?

Especially since it turns out to be an ordinary one, as much as an ongoing gothic ambiance allows. Dark and moody, with a messy bed, even messier desk, stacks and stacks of books, and even though you’d love to take a better look around now, you need to focus on a task at hand.

You carefully lower Bruce so he can sit on the edge of the bed.

“Wait here, okay?”

He furrows his brows quizzically but before he can stop you, you walk out of the bedroom and sneak into a bathroom next door. Quick search and you’re back with a bowl of warm water, a couple small towels, a disinfectant (just in case), and a pack of makeup remover wipes.

Bruce sits just like you left him… well, minus the t-shirt, now lying on the floor at his feet. He shoots you a quick glance and continues to stare at the floor. There’s clearly not enough strength in him to put on a fight. The clenched jaw might be an indication of his true feelings about your idea.

Yet, you put down the bowl at the nightstand and turn to him, determined.

“Let me do it,” cautious not to scare him off, you add a softer, “please.” The next few seconds feel like forever, but then Bruce sighs and gives you the tiniest of nods.

You send him a similar one and dip a towel in the water.

Breathe, or you’re gonna pass out.

Your hands can’t stop shaking slightly when you gently hold his chin. He shuts his eyes and his nostrils flare as he frowns, and you’re not sure if it’s from the pain or discomfort, but you give him a brief moment to adjust. Then, ever so slowly, you stroke his cheek with the towel.

“All right?” you murmur and receive a short hum in response.

The mud dissolves under warm water, and so does the tension you feel under your fingers. You glide them along the sharp jawline as you switch to wipes; you skip the request to keep the eyes closed as Bruce doesn’t seem too willing to open them anytime soon. A need to be delicate slows you down, but there’s no other way to do it, not when every other swipe uncovers new bruises. It forces you to control your breathing, doubly so when you rely on the smallest signals from Bruce to know if he needs you to stop. But instead, when you move back to the wet towel, you notice that his hands are no longer fisted on the blanket, and you smile to yourself.

You trace the soft fabric through his face unhurriedly, allowing yourself to marvel at all the angles of his features. There’s a drop of sadness tainting the moment; that you’d probably never get a chance to study them so closely if it wasn’t for the dramatic circumstances. It shouldn’t matter, and yet it does, and you chew on your lip to distract yourself from the ache in your chest. You slide your fingers to the side of his neck, tilt his chin up with your thumb and draw a towel down the exposed skin. Bruce draws a shaky breath and shudders, then grabs your hand resting still on his neck, and you freeze, with your own pulse quickened.

The squeeze on your digits is strong, but it’s brief as one made out of instinct and regretted instantly. After that, the touch lingers for a while, and when it leaves, you start missing it the second it’s gone.

Bruce lowers his head and his brows are knitted together again. Then he opens his eyes, looks directly into yours, searching your gaze, and looks away, letting all the exhaustion show up on his face again.

You smile sadly. There’s only so much you can do, and maybe this is just another reminder. “All done,” you say, pulling back your hand hesitantly. “Get some rest now.”’

He doesn’t move, lost in thought, and your throat tightens.

Time to go.

You take a pile of used wipes to a small bin near the nightstand, and just as you’re reaching for the other stuff to carry with you on your way out, you hear your name.

You glance at Bruce.

“Stay,” he pleads quietly, his stare still fixed on his lap.

Breathe.

“Are you sure?” you choke out, but then his eyes meet yours and for a second, you see the extent of his insecurity, of the loneliness, of all the fears hidden deep inside.

The answer comes in a whisper. “Please.”

…and yours can be only one.

---------

(part 2)

[bxwitched]

Diamonds Are Forever - Part One

Warnings: Non-Con, kidnapping, captivity, swearing, torture, angst, breeding, implied rape. Explicit 18+ only, please read at your own risk.

Characters: Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: You're rescued from being one of Vought's experiments, but are you really safe?

Word Count: 1.6K

A/N: You can find my Masterlist here. Comments, shares and likes are appreciated!

At first you think you're delirious. Your ears prick at the distant sound of yelling, rapid gunfire interspersed with loud bangs and screams. Your head tilts to the side, your eyes locked on the door as you pick up on the multiple sets of footsteps making their way down the hallways, towards your cell. Not a hallucination then.

That's when you hear their voices.

"Are you sure this is a good idea Butcher?"

"Positive, Hughie. Now let's have a fucking look at what's behind door number three, shall we?"

One, two, three, and the steel door flies inwards, narrowly missing you as it screeches to a halt in the corner of the room. Your eyes narrow as the dust settles and the three men come into view, a dark haired man grins at you wickedly whilst a tall, skinny man throws you a nervous wave over the shoulder of the first. Your whole body tenses as your eyes find the third, he's assessing you with a smirk on his face, his eyes roving up and down your form as he takes you in. He's tall and rugged and like you, a fucking supe; complete with a costume and shield.

"Well aren't you just a doll."

"Who are you and what the fuck do you want?" The supe tsks at you loudly and shakes his head in disapproval.

"A lady as pretty as you shouldn't be using that kind of language." Your eyes flash with anger and you clench your fists tightly.

"You didn't answer me. Is this one of their tests? Did he put you up to this!?" The dark haired man intervenes then, he steps forward slowly, his hands raised in surrender as if he's trying to calm a feral animal.

"Easy, love. We're not here to hurt ya. On the contrary, we've come to get you out of here." You level him with a glare.

"And why would you do that? I don't know you." His face splits into a wide grin.

"Homelander. We're gonna kill the cunt, and you're gonna help us."

You find yourself ushered into a plush bedroom by an older man named Legend, an old friend of the supe you now knew as Soldier Boy.

The three men had introduced themselves to you not long after leaving the lab and explained that you would be laying low at Legend's home with them until it was time to execute Homelander, much to the eccentric man's chagrin.

You try to shake off the feeling of unease as you find the adjoining bathroom and begin to take off the clothes the scientists had made you wear, desperate to feel clean after so long in that place. You try to will your muscles to relax as you stand under the warm stream and let the rivulets of water carry down your hair, neck, shoulders and back but the tendrils of anxiety still linger in your chest.

Would he find you? And would they be able to protect you if he did?

You sigh as you secure the towel around your body and analyse your reflection in the mirror, despite all of the things they had done to you, all of the pain that you had endured, there were no marks left to show their handiwork. He had liked that, he had called you flawless.

You startle when you walk back into the bedroom, so caught up in the maelstrom of your thoughts that you hadn't heard Hughie come in. He bounces on his heels nervously and gestures to the bags laid out on the bed, purposefully avoiding looking at your state of undress.

"Sorry, I-uh, I should've waited outside, but I brought you some clothes and some food." You stare at him blankly as he stutters, unsure of how to respond to his seemingly genuine act of kindness. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and starts to back towards the bedroom door.

"I'll just-uh go now, let me know if you need anything else."

"Hughie-" He stops and turns towards you, his hand resting on the doorknob. "Thank you."

You lay on your back, eyes focused on the ceiling as insomnia wreaks havoc on your mind. You think back to the other girls, the needles and the screams, the liquid that coursed through your veins, the pain that burned through your body like fire.

A wave of nausea rolls through you as you hear his voice in your head, his praising, taunting, telling you that it was just a matter of time.

The house is silent as you descend the stairs, everyone is asleep and you pad quietly into the kitchen in search of something to calm your frayed nerves. Your eyes light up when you spy a small orange bottle on the counter but you grumble when you pick it up and find it empty.

"Can't sleep?" You turn quickly and throw the bottle of pills at the intruder, freezing when it bounces off of his chest and rolls across the floor.

Soldier Boy leans against the door frame, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as you stare at him. He matches your stare until the silence becomes unbearable.

"No." You stand straighter as he pushes away from the wall, those green eyes of his examining you as he stalks around you. He opens one of the cupboards and retrieves an unopened bottle filled with amber liquid, whisky you think. He smirks and shakes it at you teasingly.

"Won't you have a drink with me, Honey?" You watch him wearily, you don't trust him and you don't want to let your guard down but it's been so long since you've been able to just sleep.

"If you try anything, know that I won't hesitate to tear off your cock." He chuckles then, it's deep and rich and your stomach tightens at the sound of it.

"I don't doubt you'd try."

You settle down on one end of the long couch, not taking your eyes off of him and accept the short glass he holds in your direction, careful not to touch him more than needed as you take it from him. He settles into the chair opposite you and sets the bottle down on the coffee table. He hums as he takes a long sip from his own glass, his legs are spread wide and his free hand rests against his thigh.

"You're strong." He grins at you now and his chest puffs slightly from the compliment.

"Yes I am."

"Strong enough to kill Homelander?" His smile falters then, he leans forward to set his glass down on the table and clasps his hands together, elbows resting on his knees. The way that he's eyeing you makes you uncomfortable and you shift in your seat, he nods once as he considers what he's going to say.

"Why were you in that lab?" You frown at him.

"You didn't read the files?" He shakes his head and you nod as your fingers grip your knee, your short nails dig into the fabric of your jeans, the discomfort grounds you. You're silent for a long time as you run through the events that you remember and try to piece them together, the memories are hazy but not enough for you to forget.

"I was just on my way home from work, I remember waking up in that white room, in those clothes. There were others too, I could hear them, they wanted us to hear each other."

His brows are furrowed as he watches you, you knock back the remainder of your glass and set it down, your features steeled to hide the emotions bubbling just below the surface.

"Homelander wants children and in order to have those he needs a living incubator, but seeing as most supe women are sterile they had to get creative. They tried something new, they pumped us full of chemicals until we changed, it burned like hell and the more they did it the stronger I got, I had more stamina, my senses got better."

You lean forward and grab the whiskey bottle and bring it to your lips, you take a long pull before offering it back to Soldier Boy. He takes it from you with a silent nod.

"Then one day I woke up strapped to a table, they wanted to see how much my body could take, so they poked and prodded and sliced, I didn't bleed, I didn't bruise, but I still felt everything." You breathe deeply, trying to ignore the heaviness in your chest.

"He came to my cell the next day, told me that I was going to be the one honoured with carrying his children, that the others weren't as strong as me, as beautiful as me. I tried to slit his throat with the scalpel I stole from the lab but it didn't even make a fucking dent."

"He didn't try to kill you?" You let out a mirthless laugh.

"Of course he did, he tried to laser me in half but it didn't work, it didn't even mark my skin. That's when he started calling me his diamond and ranting about how our children would rule the world."

You scrunch your nose in disgust as you remember the moment before looking back at the man across from you. Soldier Boy's jaw is clenched tight and his expression is stormy, his eyes have darkened and his fingers are no longer entwined but pulled into fists. You consider him as he exhales deeply.

"Did he?-" You ignore him and shake your head as you rise from the couch and walk towards him, his eyes widen as you snatch the bottle of whisky from his hand and make your way past him to the stairs.

"That's enough sharing for one night."

Part Two >