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rosewaterandivy · 2 days ago

Text

you’re a dream to me (steve’s version)

a continuation of this blurb

pairing: s.h x f!reader

themes: smut mdni, “they were roommates,” shame surrounding sex/orgasm, casual intimacy, heavy petting, fingering, light praise kink, squirting

Steve didn’t get a wink of sleep that night.

You, however, woke refreshed and in a brighter mood. Hopped off the couch without some much as a “good morning,” and padded over to the kitchen to start the coffee maker.

He’d tossed and turned in vain for another hour or so, until the din of “hushed” voices was too much to ignore.

The couch sags as someone takes a seat on the edge, boxing in his legs underneath the blanket. Turning from a perfectly comfortable position on his stomach, shirt tucked up to his chest, Steve wakes to the scent of cinnamon and coffee.

“Hey sleepyhead,” You greet with a smile, “Made a fresh batch just how you like it.” Only to place the cup in your grasp on the coffee table in front of him, just out of his reach.

“Rude,” He rasps sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Have you seen my—”

You place the glasses in his lap before he can finish asking the question. He mumbles his thanks and puts them on, running a hand through his wild hair.

“The kids and girls are making their rounds in the old neighborhood. I’m hanging back to do some stuff around here.”

He takes a sip of coffee and nods along.

Steve’s supposed to do the typical holiday check-in with his parents, but really has no interest in it. Christmas isn’t far off, he could just put it off until then. Besides, it’s not like they’d do anything but a tension filled lunch at the club where his mother will ask when he’ll finally settle down and his father will remind him that it’s past time to get serious about his future.

He mulls it over while drinking his coffee. Half-watching you mosey around the house starting laundry, writing a grocery list, opening the windows to let in the brisk autumn breeze.

It’s Sunday. On Sundays you do chores, pick up the groceries for the week, spend approximately two hours in the bathroom doing god knows what only to come out nearly a new woman, and order take out from the good Thai place just off-campus.

Steve leaves you to your routine, making a pit-stop to find the cordless phone and leave a message for his parents.

“Hey, it’s me. Something came up and I can’t make it. I guess I’ll see you at the Christmas Eve party. Okay, bye.”

He places the phone back in the cradle to charge and walks back to his room. He didn’t exactly leave it pristine, but it’s essentially an unmitigated disaster now. Whatever hell Dustin and Mike had wrought, they would be paying for in spades.

Sheets don’t knot themselves up, he knows that much for sure. And yeah, Will and Lucas were in here too, but they had far too much sense for whatever this chaos is.

There’s a soft knock on the door. He turns to find you leaning against the jamb wearing a familiar Stop Making Sense tour shirt.

Steve can’t even bring himself to be mad. You flash him a smile and say, “I’m running out to the store. D’you need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good honey.”

“Okay,” You fiddle with the strap of your tote bag on your shoulder. “The washer should be free soon, I just have to move my stuff once I’m back.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He says stepping closer, “I can flip your stuff.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Thanks Steve. I’ll be back soon!” You say with a turn toward the door and toe on your sneakers. With a brief wave, the door shuts behind you and Steve, for the first time in a long time, is left to his own devices.

Not that he takes advantage of it, of course.

He showers, lets the phone ring and machine pick it up, eats something vaguely decent (though the expiration date is questionable), and flips your laundry only to begin his own.

Piling his laundry into the washer and eyeballing an appropriate amount of detergent, he hears you call out a greeting as the front door opens.

You’re weighted down with paper bags and trip twice from the entry way to the kitchen. Steve takes the bags from you without much fuss, sets them down on the counter how you like and sorts out the pantry versus refrigerator goods.

There’s a garbled sound from the answering machine as you press the play button in the living room. He continues to put the groceries away, not paying much mind to whomever had called.

You slide in on socked feet nearly careening into him.

“Shit, sorry!”

This you say directly to his sternum, face plastered to his chest. You can feel his laughter as he says, “S’fine sugar. No harm, no foul.”

Steve’s hands grip your forearms, warm and wide, as he sets you back to rights. He gets a good look at you— freshly washed hair, bare faced, and already in your comfies. He notes the distinct lack of voices in the house. Then, he gets an idea.

“Who was on the machine?”

“Oh, just the kids and the girls.” You say, filling a glass of water. “They’ll be at the ‘rents tonight. Something about giving us our space back.”

“Huh.”

“I mean, they’ll be back tomorrow night. You know they can never last long confined to their childhood bedrooms and loving parental advice.”

Steve considers this information.

“Do ya want me to wash your sheets?” You offer, “I think Dustin may have just passed out in his clothes last night, shoes and all.”

All it takes is a nod from him and then you’re trotting off down the hall. You come back with a smile, sheets miraculously free of knots, and disappear into the laundry room humming a tune from the radio.

The night passes unceremoniously, unfolding in its typical fashion of ordering way too much food and then watching the Twin Peaks episode from last week that you’d taped.

Steve finds himself in a familiar place— arm around your waist, snuggled on the sofa, a blanket draped over you both. He can smell that lotion or perfume you only wear on Sundays, clean and fresh like sheets drying on a clothesline.

“Hey, um,” He begins, trepidation rattling in his voice. “Don’t get mad, but are you okay?”

He can feel as you tense in his arms.

“M’fine Steve. Why d’you ask?”

“Oh, you just said something last night and it got me worried is all.”

You heave a sigh, turning from the tv to face him. Your lips are drawn in a tight line, brow furrowed.

“Just forget I said anything.”

He worries his thumb along your jaw. Eyes tracing along your face— the fading freckles from the summer heat smattered across your nose, the high color of your cheeks.

“I don’t think I should,” He says carefully, “It doesn’t sound like something anyone who cared about you would dream of saying.”

He lets the words land. Watches as realization flashes across your features. Wonders why you’d let something so baselessly wrong bother you so much.

“I mean, they’re not exactly wrong.”

Steve cringes at the thought.

“I’m not like, the easiest person to deal with in that respect.”

“How d’you mean?”

He draws you closer, hand falling to the small of your back.

You bite your lip, eyes flitting to and fro.

“Sex, Steve, I mean sex.”

His mouth falls open in an oh of recognition.

“Apparently, it takes a lot of work for me to come and even when I do, it’s a mess.”

Steve tries to school his expression into one less shocking. Who the fuck would say something like that to you? What is wrong with people?!

“To add insult to injury,” You say with a snort, “I haven’t been able to come for weeks. It’s beginning to be quite the issue.”

Huh. So that explains why you flew off the handle at trivia night the other day. He knew it couldn’t have been over not knowing something as innocuous as which mountain range separates Europe and Asia?

You’re squirming in his grasp and he can tell you’d like nothing more than to turn around and pretend this conversation never even happened.

But the thing about Steve is, he’s like a dog with a bone. And unbeknownst to you, you are the bone in this scenario.

Before you can pull away, he grounds you with an arm to the waist. In response, you raise a delicate brow.

And ah, fuck here he goes.

“I could, uh,” He swallows audibly, “Help with that, if you want.”

Your immediate instinct is to roll your eyes and laugh, let slip a sardonic sure, Steve.

And you can’t help the huff of a laugh that escapes as you say, “Offer that service to all you gal pals?”

“N-no. I - don’t. Just—”

The you is left unspoken but it hooks at something in your chest and pulls. Leaves you jittery and… wanting.

“Okay,” you say with an inelegant shimmy onto your back. “Show me your moves, Harrington.”

Shocked still, Steve doesn’t know where to begin. You’ve maneuvered your back against his chest, head resting on his shoulder and hips slotted beneath his. Your legs splay open, the hem of his shirt falling just above your black briefs.

His heart rattles in his chest, and he’s sure you can feel its frantic pace. He scooches back a bit, separating his hips from the swell of your ass, and sits you up.

The vantage point is better, he rationalizes, he can see what he’s doing here. At his movement, you grab the hem of his shirt and peel it off your body, the image of David Byrne’s big suit landing in a heap at the foot of the couch.

“You can touch me, y’know.”

And yeah, he definitely wants to. Stripped down to your basics, black on black and nothing fancy, Steve’s mouth begins to water. It’s so surreal— he never thought you’d actually take him up on his insane offer. Much less so willingly.

“Y-yeah, okay.”

Your warm back settles against his chest once more. His hands trail the notches of your neck as you turn your head.

“Can you do me a favor though, and just like, talk to me?”

He swallows, desire carving a searing path through his chest.

“Course, sugar.”

And then there’s the hot press of his mouth against your jaw, and the scent of him rushes into your shared space and has your groaning softly. Fresh citrus from his body wash tanged with something that’s ineffably Steve.

His entire body shudders against yours. His hips lurch into the sliver of space between you as he breathes brokenly, “Holy shit.” And you can’t help but agree.

Steve’s fingers end up buried between your legs. Hand wedged into the impossible space between your clenching thighs. His opposite hand splayed against the soft curve of your abdomen, holding you in place and pressing you down into the cushions.

He’s talked you through it all, gentle murmurs and slurred words, the nip of his teeth at your throat. Told you how pretty you were, how good, his mouth smearing hot and wet against your skin.

And how he’d worked you up with his soft, lingering touch. Fingers trailing along sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. How he’d eased the straps down your shoulders, circled your nipples over the fabric and teased them to peaks before letting the black fabric pool at your waist.

There’s a slow drag of words from his throat when his hand brushes the band of your briefs.

“Y’ready, honey?”

All you can manage is a nod, chin clearly thumping against your chest as his fingers dip beneath the fabric to slowly drag through your soft curls. The point of his nose traces a line against the column of your throat, breath hot and seeping while you’re positively leaking through the fabric.

Shifting your hips in desperation, his fingers slip lower and barely brush against your clit. It draws a deep whine from your chest as you reach back in desperation to find his hair and pull.

“Fu-ck.”

Steve’s hips buck against the fat of your ass, his hand pressing down against your pelvis, the pad of his finger petting delicately at the seam of your sex.

“So good like this,” he says raggedly, thumb alighting on your clit with a smear of slick as you gasp. “I know, I know,” he soothes, as your mind drips into something syrupy and slow.

His clever finger slips inside, punching the breath from your lungs. Your head turns to the side, pleasure loosening your bones and burning like an inferno. But Steve never lets up, even as he’s breathing heavy, eyes half-lidded and staring back at you.

His cheeks are flushed pink as he murmurs and mutters, words long lost to you now as heat cracks through you like a live wire, coaxed gently along by Steve’s careful ministrations.

“— want you, please,” you babble incoherently. Already fucked stupid, buoyed by the senseless desire he draws from you like water.

A lewd squelching noise as two of his thick fingers sink into you, causing your voice to break, “Want your cock— inside, oh fuck.” Your eyes roll back in your head at the deep press of them, cunt clenching as they slide against your walls.

His thumb brushes your clit, a firm press as he buries his fingers deep and presses down with his opposite hand, hot and searing on your skin.

“Wanted you for so long,” he groans, urging your hips forward in his fingers buried to the hilt. “Jus’ like this.” He murmurs something else into the hollow of your throat, something lost to time and space.

You’re shivering and throbbing and rocking downwards onto his hand as his fingers continue to ignite your pleasure. His touch searing like a brand as he continues to press against you, until your voice breaks on a moan.

“Yeah,” you breathe, head lolling against his chest, fingers loosely gripping his damp hair. “Right there, oh fuck, Steve —”

You make a mess of him as he draws your desire up, up, up. As it peaks, your back bows and strangled shout falls from your lips, moisture rushing from you. Soaking his fingers and hand, your thighs, the couch cushions, fucking Christ.

“Imsorryimsorryimsorry,” you whimper, fingers clutching tight in his hair.

And all he makes is a deep sound of satisfaction, hips stuttering against your ass. A dark rumble from the confines of his chest, and you look up to see his eyes molten gold and heavy lidded, a smile breaking across his face.

The last of your release shudders through you, his fingers slipping slowly from your sex, petting in soothing strokes and easing you from your pleasure. But still, there’s a keen ache making you clench and flutter around nothing.

Forcing your fingers to loosen from his hair, you let them graze his temple, his cheek heated and damp beneath your skin.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, catching your breath as your eyes flutter closed. Pushing hair from your face, you find your brow slick with sweat. Steve, without a care, whispers a kiss to your brow and huffs a laugh.

“How did you get so good at that?”

Can’t even be bothered to turn back, you roll your head on his chest catching an inelegant shrug of his shoulder.

“Mmm,” you murmur, content to be splayed against him. “I owe you one, pal. Jus’ gimme a minute…”

Steve sighs softly, letting his fingers tangle in your hair as your breathing evens out in sleep. Eventually, he’ll rally and heft you back to your room and clean sheets.

And eventually, though who can say when, he’ll screw his courage to the sticking place and cash in that I.O.U.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction

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yandere-romanticaa · 2 days ago

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I have a fic idea, stay with me on this one folks.

I'm a massive Re Zero girlie and I always really liked how Return by Death was handled in the series. I'm also a massive Sunday girlie and the man is in my head rent free 25/8, so I've come up with a half baked idea which I find highly entertaining, but it still needs a lot of work. Here is the gist of it:

The premise is that you, the reader, get summoned to the world of Honkai Star Rail by the Aeon of Elation, Aha. Aha randomly picked a target from our world to torment and gave you the ability Return by Death simply because it wanted to.

In case you do not know, Return by Death allows your soul to travel the river of time backwards to a save point that Subaru (in this case you, the reader) and/or the witch of envy (in this case Aha) deem safe and/or useful. Now, I figured that the Astral Express would end up picking you up along the way but Aha keeps killing you over and over again just for fun. Aha might also wish to mess with other worlds or the people you've started to care for in this universe, which in prompt forces you to kill yourself in order to save your friends from certain doom, forcing you to start from scratch all over again.

I was thinking that Sunday would have something of a cheat code to eventually realize that something is wrong due to his tuning ability. Across your journey you end up developing feelings for Sunday and the feeling would become mutual, but tragedy keeps striking over and over and over again, always dooming someone to die.

Other characters that I'm thinking who would figure out that something was wrong or not right with you would be Welt, Acheron and Sparkle. Honorable mention to Sampo too.

Again, this idea is barely half baked and I basically just stole the plot of Re Zero and applied it to Honkai Star Rail LMAO. I did not intend this fic to be yandere and if I ever did write it, I wanted to do it on my side blog because this main one is only for dark content.

If anyone has any ideas, suggestions or comments, please share them with me. I find this idea to be incredibly entertaining but it would take me a while to actually start the fic. I'd like to at least finish the 2.7 story (at the time of writing this, that patch is not out yet) and maybe work out some kinks here and there.

Thank you for going through this silly idea of mine, mwah mwah ❤️

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr sunday #hsr acheron #hsr welt #hsr sunday x reader #♥️ girlie says

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starsungwithamelody · 2 days ago

Note

do you write for oliver aiku? :3

-yep anon!! feel free to send in more requests!

car sex w Oliver Aiku

afab! reader

context- you just got stood up at a date, planned by anri of course. you’re sad, upset, kicking the bed, but then… you get a text.

your ex fling, Oliver Aiku

a/n- ignore how trash my writing has been… sorry

warnings- car sex, riding, a lil cunilingus and my horrible “fluff” or “angst” I DIDNT DO A PROOFREAD

its 10:38 pm

you’re laying in your bed, sighing about some random guy who stood you up! you are never trusting anri again, who would’ve known she was horrible at choosing blind dates?

you’re just doomscrolling now, liking and commenting on every somewhat cute guy.

“... this is so STUPID!”

you push your head in your pillows, swinging your legs around. maybe you’ll be alone for the rest of your life!

bzzt!

“please! please tell me that’s a like back!”

you rush to pick up your phone, a text from oliver. your ex-fling..

“you up?” -10:40 pm

oh. it’s this guy again! some stupid strong idiot with some really good dick! i mean you did sleep with him enough… for the number to be in the double digits.

whatever, you’re done with guys! they’re nothing but stupid-

bzzt!

he double texted?! what the fu- you rush to open the chat again.

“c’mon now, don’t leave me on read.” -10:43 pm

okay.. no way he just double texted! that means he definitely wants to fuck right now! wait what are you thinking girl? just one last night stand? your fingers start flying on the screen typing the most perfectly written text message back!

“haha yeah heyy” -10:44 pm

did you come off too strong?! whatever! he just wants to fuck and you don’t mind that!

“come outside cutie” -10:44 pm

wait. HES OUTSIDE?!

you quickly head out to your window, oh my god! he’s actually outside?! you quickly brush your hair and clean yourself up before you rush out the door.

“hey there!”

wait did you even reapply lipstick? did you just forget your phone? you’re so flustered and nervous about a guy you’ve fucked so many times already.

“you were ready for this?”

he looks up and down at you, a cute elegant blue dress. it’s not too revealing, but it makes you look gorgeous!

“oh! well.. my date stood me up earlier..”

you pause, taking a deep breath in.

“whatever.. he was really shitty anyway”

you feel aiku pull you into his arms, one of his hands pressing onto your back pulling you closer.

“ooh! aiku.. i don’t think this.. this is appropriate-“

he quickly shuts you up with a kiss, his other hand holding your head, keep you locked into the kiss. you can’t help but reciprocate the kiss back.

he only lets go after you’re left panting. he watches your eyes, you feel nervous. but then he speaks again.

“i want you back.”

he pauses, his hold on your back moving lower.

“i don’t want to keep just fucking like this.. i want you”

he pauses again, this time he looks through you. you start to sweat a little, no freaking way! no way he just said that!

“i need you, i can’t let some other guy have you for himself.”

is he for real? no way! he has to be lying right?

“im not lying sweetheart, you are the missing piece in my life”

he understood you, he understands you. you feel a real.. genuine connection with aiku, you’ve never felt any spark or connection with any guy.

“so please? will you be my girlfriend?”

you snap back into reality, quickly processing what he just said. maybe you’ll give him a chance.

“a-ah.. shit!”

you grip on to aiku’s shoulders tightly, he just keeps thrusting into you! the comfy leather seats are stained with a mix of your juices.

“fuuuckk… you’re so good to me baby..”

you press your head into his neck, peppering small kisses along his collarbone.

“hah-ha.. is this your way of thanking me?”

you can’t help but smile at his words, his hands tangle into your hair pulling you closer.

“you’re so warm y’know?”

he slowly moves your hands to your hips, keeping you bouncing on his shaft.

“soo.. glad that date stood you up”

he softly pecks a kiss to your cheek, moving down to your neck. you can barely respond, he’s just wayy too deep inside you! his hand moves to your stomach pressing on the bulge.

“just.. too big for you hm, your cunt is just begging for me right now…”

he laughs softly squeezing your hips, lifting your hips up again.

“yeah.. you’re too b-!“

your insides are immediately rearranged with one thrust.

“ahh.. fuckk..”

you look up at him, holding onto his biceps.

“i- i want more aiku..”

in a few seconds, oliver presses your back against the car seat. his hands keeping your legs pressed up to your chest. he quickly kisses your clit, licking up your juices.

“let’s do more then.. shall we?”

he lines himself against you, slowly teasing you with his tip. thrusting fully inside you when you start whining about how empty your stomach feels without, his finger pressing on the bulge on your stomach.

its gonna be a lonnnggg night for you two huh?

a/n- can you tell when i got bored of writing lololol

#blue lock #blue lock smut #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock oliver #oliver aiku #oliver aiku smut

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stellarbit · 2 days ago

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1000 Follower Celebration

I never thought much of my work so I've waited to do celebrate until 1000. For those who've followed and anyone who liked, commented, or reblogged anything, here is an event as thanks. Please know that this blog and those in this fandom mean so much to me. I read every tag, comment, and reblog and they make my day every time.

If you've followed me for awhile you'll know my writing can be slow and fickle. As a thank you I am committing to fulfilling the requests I receive between November 23rd - November 30th. After that I'll be closing my requests until I work through them.

Now let's get to it!!

Some quick rules

Pick up to 3 prompts.

I'll take individual character requests or something like "members of the 501st/Bad Batch reacting to" requests as well.

I will be doing requests for Clones/Star Wars first and then any previous fandoms I've written for.

I will not be taking anon requests for this event

Let me know what character(s) you want.

If you have them, please state SFW/NSFW preferences

If you have them, please state what gender preference you have.

I retain the right to not write prompts that are uncomfortable/extreme for me.

Tell me as many details as you want, it really helps! You can DM me too if you'd like to discuss.

If you've submitted previous request you'd still like done, feel free to send it again. Tumblr has vanished some requests and I've never seen them again

Please be patient, I waited until life calmed down to focus on this event but writing takes time.

Prompt List

My favorite prompts are the personal ones. If you've been going through anything and you'd like comfort, distraction, or in character advice from your favs, I'm here for you. It's been helpful for me and I'd love to do that for you. Be as specific as you want <3

I'll take continuation requests for previous fics. (I am working on Two Faces pt 3 and aim to finish the Hound drabbles from the past, so if its for them don't you worry, just be patient please.)

Tropes

And there was one bed~

Love at first sight

Hate at first sight

Fake dating

Locked in together

Aphrodisiac

Amnesia

Sharing body heat

Kissing as a distaction

Dying confession

X denying their feelings for Y until Y shows interest in someone else.

X teaching Y something

Carrying bridal style

Confessing during fight

Romance/Fluff

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“I didn’t know love until you.”

“You’d be easy to love.”

“You are my equal in every way.”

“I will never stop fighting for you.”

“If there was anyone meant for me, it was you.”

“You say you love me, but you don’t know me.” “Then let me.”

“They don’t compare to you. No one does/ever has.”

“Don’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like you love me.”

“I could make you feel better.”

“Beautiful.”

Angst:

“We could’ve been us.”

“I don’t want your apology.”

“It would be easier if I didn’t know you.”

“You said you wouldn’t leave and then you did.”

“I feel like I’m falling apart.”

“All I’ve ever wanted is for you to see me.”

“What is it about me that isn’t good enough?”

“At least I kept my promise.”

“Does he/she/they not know about me?”

“You look exactly the same.”

Funny&Misc

“You’re family.”

“Bite me.”

“What a pretty sight.”

“Get over it.”

“I thought you couldn’t stand me.” “I lied.”

“You’re bleeding.” “No shit.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” “No.”

“I thought I was alone.”

“Stop staring at me to distract me.” “Oh, I’m not trying to distract you.”

“I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this.”

“Are my eyes deceiving me or is that a smile, my love?” “Oh, shut up.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen something go so wrong so fast.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” “No.”

“What kind of dumb question is that?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

"it wouldn’t hurt you to smile you know." “it will.”

“I can do it myself.”

“What a tease.”

“I’m hilarious.” “You’re traumatized.” “Is there a difference?”

“All this sneaking around is going to get us into trouble.”

LETS DOOO IT THANK Y'ALL

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars #bad batch #tbb tech #tech #the clone wars #prequels #tcw #sw tcw #star wars tcw #the clones wars #clone wars #clones #wrecker #echo #crosshair #nervous in the service as we speak

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obeymestory · 18 hours ago

Note

I don't know if you would like this idea but maybe you could do one where the boys have to deal with a MC that does not like being touched (like it's a trauma thing) and they accidentally lash out at their boyfriend because they didn't know it was them?

Pick what ever boys you want but if you could cqn I have my twins 💙💙💙 if not you can write for whoever

Ps: you write so good!!

Thank you for the compliment friend!!~ I can definitely do that for you!!

✒Lucifer🗃

He would go to take your hand in his, flinching as he barely touched your hand, watching you turn around immediately.

As you lashed out at him, his once calm smile would slowly fade to a frown.

Once you realized it was him you covered your mouth and apologized, trying to stop the tears from coming out of your eyes.

He really wanted to hug you, but as he reached for you he restrained himself, not wanting to upset you or scare you. It's not even something he wanted to think about.

If you gave him permission to hold you, then he would immediately wrap his arms around you, holding you close and resting one hand on your back, the other on the back of your head, keeping your head pressed against his chest, eventually planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me why you reacted like that... but I'll be here to listen if you do."

He would listen to every word, not judging you. If you didn't tell him then he wouldn't mind either, just comforting you the best he could.

💰Mammon💸

"Oi! Oi!! Oi!!! It's jus' me, darlin'." He put his hands up defensively, just moving to get something out of your hair but earning a lash out from you.

Once you realized it was him you sighed and apologized.

He shook his head and put his hands down, pouting softly and murmuring; "I thought ya' were mad at me."

You assured him that you weren't, cupping his face and caressing his cheeks with your thumbs.

He leaned into your touch, the pout slowly subsiding, reaching up to your wrists so he could keep them still, asking if he could touch you this time before touching you as you consented.

He sighed and gently held your wrists, giving you a worried expression.

He didn't ask because he didn't wanna pry, but you could tell he wanted to know, so he could comfort you better and try to understand why you reacted that way to his touch.

🍥Leviathan🪼

He poked your shoulder, gasping as you turned around so suddenly.

He covered his mouth as you lashed out on him, whimpering softly, not used to seeing you so angry.

"Y-Y/N..." He murmurs, making you realize that you yelled at your poor otaku boyfriend.

You sniffled and hugged him, apologizing over and over.

He slowly wrapped his arms around you, hesitant since you just yelled at him about him touching you.

He caresses your back, whispering; "...You wanna go watch anime?"

You pouted and looked up at him, appreciating how he didn't ask why you lashed out on him, agreeing to watch anime with him.

📚Satan🐈‍⬛

He went to wrap his arm around you to surprise you in a GOOD way, but felt you jolt and push him away and widened his eyes as you lashed out at him.

He just stood there stunned, taking in your wrath and blinking.

You realized it was him and shook your head, saying you were sorry and that it wasn't his fault that you lashed out.

"It's okay. I shouldn't have snuck up on you." He admitted honestly, not holding it against you.

You sighed in relief, glad he wasn't angry at you for lashing out towards him.

He did seem concerned at first, but realized that he may have been in the wrong and taking your past into consideration, not wanting to hurt you or make you uncomfortable.

He walked with you, not attempting to touch you for a while until you told him that it was okay to do.

💅Asmodeus🛍

He giggled as he saw you, prancing up to you and putting his hands on your shoulders.

He squeaked as you turned around immediately and lashed out towards him. "Eek!!"

He put his hands up, pouting worriedly as you harshly lashed out.

You realized who you lashed out on and whimpered, pressing your forehead against his chest.

"It's okay, hon. I should've asked before touching you." He admitted, taking your small gesture as a sign that he could safely touch you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a comforting yet loving embrace.

He held you for a while, eventually whispering to you; "I'll be there for you if you ever wanna tell me." He said, noticing the trauma in your eyes as you turned around earlier, not pushing anything and giving you an affectionate smile.

You nodded, calming down and listening to him change the subject, wanting to get your mind off of those bad memories and focus on him again. Even if he changed the subject to himself, he was still endearing.

💪Beelzebub🍔

He held a bag of your favorite food above your head, poking your head to get your attention.

He stepped back and widened his eyes as you suddenly lashed out towards him, his expression going to a more stoic one.

He stayed silent as you realized it was him, not even questioning why you lashed out at him, just holding the bag of food he got for you so you could join him for lunch.

He placed the bag in your hands, not even daring to touch you, having a feeling that that was the issue.

You pouted and looked up at him with a pout, gently holding the bag and apologizing to him.

"Can I touch you?" He asked, keeping a serious expression on his face as he asked.

You nodded and hugged him, thanking him for getting you food.

He wrapped his muscular arms around you tightly yet comfortably, a small smile forming on his face.

"You're welcome. I got your favorite." He smiled more brightly, knowing you'd cheer up instantly upon hearing that.

You perked up and smiled brightly at his words, glad he understood you and didn't make a big deal about you lashing out towards him.

🍣Belphegor🌠

He went to lean his head on your shoulder sleepily, instantly jerking his head away as you yelled at him.

He immediately woke up from your tone, pouting worriedly.

"It's me..." He said softly, watching your face drop.

You hugged him and said you were sorry, earning a surprised hum from him, he chuckled and nodded.

"It's okay. I'll ask next time." He gave a small smile, not minding your anger, finding it quite impressive.

He rubbed your back in lazy circles, hugging you gently and looking at you.

"Let's go home and take a nap together." He murmured.

He gave you a gentle pat on the head, taking both of your hands in his and still smiling as he gazed at you.

He truly loved you, so the wrath you presented when you didn't know it was him, only showed him that you were loyal and only liked him touching you.

He didn't question why you lashed out, deciding not to bring it up since it might be a rough subject, walking with you back to the house of Lamentations, so the two of you could take a well deserved nap.

31 notes · View notes

buckets-and-trees · 14 hours ago

Text

UM, HOW FUN WAS GETTING TO LIVE THROUGH THE DOCUMENTATION OF YOUR REACTIONS TO THIS CHAPTER?!

Thank you for taking me on that journey with you! 🥹

When I had this idea, it was all about Steve and reader. When I started writing it, I realized there would have to be other characters in their orbit constantly, and that's been kind of a fun challenge. I rarely care about shaping the ensemble - at least not with this much of a focus - but it's so many layers of story elements! Campaign team/barely any time to ever be alone, let alone alone time with each other. Campaign team in relation to the reader getting to know people - and some of them know about the arrangement, but most don't, and how that plays into things. Plus how they act toward each other around other people. I'm glad they're parts of the story that are standing out rather than just feeling like we're getting through them to get to a plot point.

And the kisses! Can you believe that wasn't even my original intent with including that scene? 🤣 It was getting Steve to do a TikTok/build up his feeling like the campaign is so showy + reader having another regular moment with Bucky and Sam, and then when I was in the middle of it, I was like, 'oh, wait... this is perfect...' Especially a dramatic kiss and then something more real. 🥹

And the debate prep scene was one that I've really been waiting to get to because it - again - was doing so much for me in terms of the plot development for them. Reader going after Steve instead of Bucky or Sam, Steve being pushed, Steve somewhat losing it, Steve saying some really poignant pieces, and Reader recognizing his frustrations and soothing that a little bit, but also calling him on stepping up and not falling into blaming others because he has to harness that ability (and logistically his right by his role) to captain this ship.

...

And then Josh Connor.

Okay, first, I didn't remember that I named that reporter Andy so I dom't think it's in relation to Andy Barber... (truthfully, I was thinking about a possible Andy x Reader in relation to this campaign, so... I think I was just picking a normal name)

And then Josh.

👀

I won't answer ALL your questions there because... I think you don't TRULY want to be spoiled, plus so much of it will be answered at the beginning of the next part. But I will say that of course Pepper knew.

And because I managed a diabolical mention that went under the radar...

I wanted to leave the tiniest breadcrumbs so that when we got here, it would likely be a 99% shock, but something I knew we were moving toward the whole time. MWAHAHAHAHA!

DON'T REVOKE OUR MARRIAGE LICENSE! I think the way things will unfold will be acceptable. No one will need to sharpen any knives, but there might be some wringing of hands because it's not nothing obviously.

Love you endlessly, and appreciate all your sharing here! 🩵

Red, White & True: DC, Tampa, Athens [5/?]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes Word Count: 6.1k Summary: Late September means things are only accelerating as election day grows closer. Steve is picking up momentum in the polls, and things heat up on multiple fronts before you hit a bump that may shake up the progress between you and your husband.

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: You get another West Wing cameo in this chapter (but totally unnecessary to have ever watched the show). This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Previous Chapter | Series ↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[SEPTEMBER 26 - WASHINGTON, DC]

The late September sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the campaign's official DC headquarters, casting long shadows across the bustling office space. You're leaning against a desk, watching with amusement as Peter Parker, the youth outreach coordinator who's also become the campaign's unofficial creative director of the TikTok segment of the social media team, attempts to explain the concept for the video to Steve.

"Okay, Cap," Peter says, his enthusiasm palpable as he holds up his phone. "We're going to do a quick transition video. It's super easy, I promise!"

Steve stands in the middle of the room, looking slightly uncomfortable but determined. He's dressed casually in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, a stark contrast to his usual campaign attire. The goal is to remind the voters that Steve is relatable to the everyday American at the end of the day.

Steve nods, a mixture of bemusement and determination on his face. "Alright, Peter. Walk me through it."

Peter's face lights up. "Okay, so you're going to start in your casual clothes, then you'll spin around. As you spin, we'll cut and you'll change into your suit. When you finish the spin, you'll be in full Captain America mode, then we’ll have you spin and change one more time, and we’ll end the video with you in your presidential get up."

"And this will... resonate with young voters?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

You can't help but chuckle. "It's about showing your versatility, Steve. From everyday guy to national hero to the next president in the blink of an eye."

Steve shoots you a playful glare. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one spinning like a top."

Peter positions Steve in front of the camera. "Okay, Cap. Just spin naturally, and we'll take care of the angles and editing.”

As Steve prepares for his first take, Bucky saunters into the room, a smirk playing on his lips. He sidles up next to you, crossing his arms as he watches his best friend awkwardly position himself in front of the camera.

"I'm sure Steve must be loving this," Bucky murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You nod, suppressing a chuckle. "It's written all over his face."

Indeed, Steve's expression is a fascinating mix of determination and mild discomfort, his brow is furrowed in concentration.

The rapport that’s been developing with Bucky over the last few weeks has also been nice. It’s its own brand of friendship, and it’s not rock solid yet, but it’s growing.

"Alright, Cap," Peter calls out, phone at the ready. "On three. One... two... three!"

Steve begins to spin, his movements a bit stiff in the first take.

Peter's enthusiastic voice cuts through the air. "That was great, Cap! Let's try again,” he encourages, not leaving a beat for Steve to feel awkward or like he’s done it wrong. You can tell his approach will make all the difference with Steve.

As Steve prepares for another take, you can't help but admire his willingness to step out of his comfort zone. It's one of the things that's made him such an effective candidate - his ability to adapt and connect with people across generations.

"Okay, this time, try to relax a bit more," Peter suggests. "Just have fun with it!"

Steve spares a glance at you and Bucky, then takes a deep breath, shaking out his arms. "Right. Fun. I can do fun."

Bucky snorts beside you. "This ought to be good."

As Peter counts down again, Steve starts his spin. This time, his movements are smoother, more natural.

"Perfect!" Peter exclaims. "That's the one. Now, let's get you into your tac suit for the next part."

Steve nods, heading towards the makeshift changing area set up in the corner of the room. As he disappears behind the partition, Bucky leans in closer to you.

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day when Steve would be doing social media stunts," he says, his voice a mix of amusement and pride. "He's come a long way from the kid who could barely talk to girls in Brooklyn."

You smile, picturing a young Steve Rogers, all skinny limbs and earnest determination. "I bet he was endearing," you say.

Bucky chuckles. "Oh, he was. A real charmer. Couldn't string two words together around a pretty dame, but he had a heart of gold." He pauses, his expression growing more serious. "It's good to see him like this, you know? Engaged with the world, trying new things and connecting with people again. For a while after the Blip, I worried he’d ride off into the sunset forever before the sunset was even really here. We’re out of the century we were supposed to live in, but we’re still here, y’know? Didn’t think it would be this, but it’s not all bad. Pepper wasn’t wrong in choosing him for who he is inside.”

You nod, understanding. “When I met with her about the campaign, she’d sent me the policy materials, the plans, the opposition research detailing his strengths and weaknesses as a candidate, and I was on board to take any position she offered me on the campaign team. I never imagined working on a presidential run, but her vision, her approach? I knew I wanted to be part of it.”

Bucky arches an eyebrow. “I thought… wait…” he’s mulling over what you said. “So, when you came in, you didn’t know she wanted you to marry Steve?”

You laugh and shake your head, “Oh, no! Because that would have been crazy! Who would agree to that?”

Bucky's eyes widen slightly at your revelation. "But you just... agreed on the spot when she proposed it?"

You pause, considering how to respond. The truth is, it had been a whirlwind decision, one that you sometimes still can't believe you made. "Not exactly on the spot," you say carefully. "But...pretty quickly, yeah. It was a lot to take in, but something about it just felt right, you know?"

Bucky nods slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I get it. Steve has that effect on people. Makes you want to follow him into any fight, even if it's not your own."

Before you can respond, Sam walks in, eyebrows raised at the scene before him. "How’re things going here? I hear we’re starting a dance troupe?"

Bucky chuckles. "Social media campaign. Apparently, the kids these days like watching people spin around and change clothes."

Sam shakes his head, a grin on his face. “Glad I’m not going to miss it.”

“I’m suggesting you go in as back up dancer.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Barnes! You know I’d do it!”

You laugh at the easy banter between Steve’s two best friends, but then the man himself emerges from behind the partition, now clad in his tactical suit. The sight of him in the red, white, and blue outfit isn’t new, but as it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him dressed as Captain America in person, it unexpectedly takes your breath away a little.

Steve takes his position again, looking more at ease now in his familiar uniform. "How's this, Peter?" Steve calls out, adjusting the shield on his arm.

Peter gives him a thumbs up and starts the countdown. This time, Steve's spin is confident and fluid, ending with a slight smirk that's pure Captain America.

"Nailed it!" Peter cheers. "Okay, one more outfit change and we're done."

“Hang on!” Sam calls out. His eyes light up as he looks between you and Steve, a grin spreading across his face. "We've got a golden opportunity here."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

Sam rubs his hands together. "Picture this: Captain America, in full uniform, getting a kiss from his lovely wife. It's the perfect Instagram moment!"

Steve's eyes widen slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Sam, I don't think-"

"No, no, hear me out," Sam interrupts, warming to his theme. "We've been pushing the whole 'relatable Steve' angle, right? Well, what's more relatable than a guy getting a kiss from his wife? Plus, it ties in the Cap persona.”

Peter's face lights up at the suggestion. "Oh man, that's genius! The engagement would be off the charts!"

Steve looks slightly uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and you don’t know how to feel about it either. "I don't know, guys. Isn't that a bit... much?"

Bucky chimes in, a smirk playing on his lips. "Come on, give the people what they want."

“Et tu, Brute?” you direct this to Bucky, not at all surprised at the enthusiasm from Sam and Peter, but genuinely shocked he’s jumping on board as well.

Sam turns to you, his expression a mix of excitement and mischief. "What do you say? Want to break the internet with a kiss from Captain America?"

You hesitate, feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, the idea of kissing Steve - even for a staged photo - sends a flutter through your stomach. On the other, you're acutely aware of the artificiality of the situation and the potential implications for the campaign.

You glance at Steve. His expression is unreadable, but you can see a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

Sam, sensing your hesitation, softens his approach. "Look, I know it might seem a bit much, but think about it. We've been working so hard to show Steve as both the hero and the everyday man. This could be a perfect blend of both."

Peter nods enthusiastically. "I think a good candid shot would be a great way to humanize the campaign. Show that even Captain America has a soft side."

You look back at Steve, and he gives a small nod. You see a mix of emotions in his eyes - uncertainty, but also a hint of something else. Trust, perhaps. "If you're okay with it, I am."

"I’m good," you agree, your heart rate picking up slightly.

Sam claps his hands together. "Great! Peter, get ready with that camera."

As Peter positions himself, you step closer to Steve. He reaches out, gently placing his hands on your waist. The tactical suit feels cool under your fingertips as you place a hand on his chest. You can feel the slight tension in his muscles.

"Ready?" Steve murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You nod, managing a small smile. "Let’s do this," you reply once more because this is its own ‘public appearance’, and so the customary exchange only seems fitting.

Steve’s hands move from your waist around to your back, and he takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes.

You stop breathing for a moment, suspended there in his arms.

“Kiss her, punk!” Bucky shouts, and the electric moment is broken, but you both laugh, and then Steve dips you dramatically and kisses you soundly as you clutch his shoulders. The three men cheer enthusiastically and cat call you when the kiss goes on just another moment or two.

As Steve stands you back up, you both burst into laughter, the tension of the moment dissolving into genuine mirth and camaraderie. His arm is still around your waist, steadying you as you regain your balance. The warmth of his body radiates through the tactical suit, and you find yourself leaning into him slightly, your soft, round body pressing into his hard muscles.

"So, Peter," Steve calls out, his voice still tinged with amusement, "did we nail that shot, or do you need us to try again?" There's a playful glint in his eye as he says this, and you can't help but grin up at him.

Peter, looking slightly flustered but undeniably excited, nods enthusiastically. "Oh yeah, Cap! That was perfect! The internet is going to go crazy over this!"

You start to step away, ready to return to your spot by the desk, but Steve surprises you by gently pulling you back, his arm wrapping around your waist once more. The room seems to fall away as he gazes into your eyes, a softness in his expression that you've rarely seen before. Time slows as he leans in, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek.

His touch is feather-light, his calloused thumb brushing across your cheekbone with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. The scent of him envelops you - a mixture of leather from the suit, a hint of aftershave, and something uniquely Steve.

Your heart races as Steve leans in, his breath warm against your lips. For a moment, you forget about the cameras, the campaign, everything except the man in front of you.

Steve's lips brush yours, soft and tentative at first. It's different from the performative kiss moments ago - this feels real, intimate. You respond instinctively, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through your body.

Suddenly, you're jolted back to reality by the sound of a throat clearing loudly.

You and Steve break apart, both slightly breathless. The room crashes back into focus, and you're acutely aware of the others watching. Sam has a knowing smirk on his face. Peter looks like he might explode from excitement.

"Well," Sam says, breaking the silence. "I think we've got more than enough material for social media now."

You step back from Steve, feeling the heat creep up your neck. Steve clears his throat, looking slightly flustered himself.

"Right," he says, his voice a bit rough. "I should, uh, go change for the final spin shot."

As Steve disappears behind the partition again, you catch Bucky's eye. He gives you a subtle nod, his expression unreadable. You're not sure what to make of it, but there's no time to dwell on it as Peter starts setting up for the final shot.

You return to your spot by the desk and try compose yourself. Your lips still tingle from the kiss, and you can't shake the memory of Steve's touch.

Bucky sidles up next to you, his voice low as Sam and Peter talk next to you. "That was quite a show," he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You glance at him, unsure how to respond. "It's all part of the job, right?" you say, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark.

Bucky gives you a long look, then nods slowly. "Right. The job."

Before you can say anything else, Steve emerges from behind the partition, now dressed in one of his presidential suits - a sharp navy number that accentuates his broad shoulders. You can't help but admire how he carries himself. He exudes a quiet confidence, as ever, a perfect blend of the everyday man and the leader of the free world.

"Alright, Cap," Peter calls out, "let's nail this final spin!"

Steve takes his position, and as he begins to turn, you find yourself holding your breath. The transformation is mesmerizing - from casual Rogers to Captain America to Presidential Candidate, but all of them undeniably Steve.

[SEPTEMBER 27 - TAMPA, FLORIDA]

The campaign has rented out an entire floor of a hotel for debate prep, transforming the spacious suites into makeshift war rooms as Tampa provides some key and convenient access to key southern cities by plane. Maps, charts, and policy briefings cover every available surface, and the air hums with the energy of a team on a mission.

Jake Sullivan, Steve's chief strategist, has pulled out all the stops for this crucial phase of debate preparation. He's brought in Amy Gardner, a seasoned political operative known for her sharp wit and take-no-prisoners approach. Her presence adds an extra edge to the already intense atmosphere. You watch as Amy commands the room, even though she sits rather casually in an armchair ten feet from Steve, who stands behind a makeshift podium.

Her presence adds an extra edge to the already intense atmosphere. You watch as Amy paces the room, firing off rapid-fire questions at Steve, who stands behind a makeshift podium.

"What's your plan for addressing climate change?" Jake asks, his voice stern.

Steve responds confidently, "We need to transition to clean energy sources while also supporting workers in traditional energy sectors. My plan includes..."

Amy cuts him off, her tone brusque. "Too long. You've got 60 seconds max. Hit the key points and move on."

Steve nods, taking a deep breath. "Right. Clean energy transition. Support for affected workers. Immediate action on emissions reduction."

“Too succinct,” she says.

Steve frowns, clearly trying to find the right balance. Squaring his shoulders, he goes again. "Our climate plan has three key components: First, an aggressive transition to clean energy sources like wind and solar. Second, robust support and retraining for workers in affected industries. And third, immediate action to reduce emissions across all sectors. This isn't just about saving the planet - it's about creating jobs and securing America's energy independence for generations to come."

Amy nods approvingly. "Better. Now, pivot to how this contrasts with your opponent's stance."

Steve's brow furrows in concentration. "Unlike my Republican opponent, who continues to deny the reality of climate change, my plan acknowledges the crisis we face while also prioritizing American workers and innovation. We can't afford to stick our heads in the sand any longer."

"Decent," Amy says, her tone softening slightly.

“Only decent?”

“You didn’t address the Democrats’ policy. Your battle is to convince enough voters in America to break with over two hundred years of choosing between red or blue.”

You can see Steve is fighting back a sigh of frustration.

"Mr. Rogers, your opponent claims your lack of formal political experience makes you unqualified for the presidency. How do you respond?"

Steve takes a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. "My experience may not be traditional, but it's been forged in the crucible of protecting this nation and its values. I've led teams through impossible situations, made tough decisions with global consequences, and always put the American people first. That's the kind of leadership experience that truly matters."

Amy nods, but doesn't let up. "Good, but tighten it up. You need to hit harder on your unique qualifications. How do you respond to critics who say your experience is outdated?"

"I'd say that my unique perspective allows me to see both where we've been and where we need to go," Steve begins, his voice steady. "I've seen this country at its best and its worst. I understand the challenges we face because I've lived through similar ones before. But I also understand the incredible potential of our future because I've seen how far we've come."

You can’t help but feel inspired by that answer, but Amy's eyes narrow, her expression sharpening. "Not bad, but you're still playing it too safe. Your opponents will come at you hard. Let's ramp this up."

She stands and begins pacing in front of Steve like a shark. "Mr. Rogers, your critics say you're nothing more than a science experiment gone right. How can you claim to represent the average American when you're literally superhuman?"

Steve's jaw tightens, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "I may have enhanced abilities, but my values and my heart are as human as anyone's. I grew up in Brooklyn during the Great Depression. I know what it's like to struggle, to feel powerless. The serum didn't change that part of me."

Your heart swells, but again Any interjects again.

"Weak," she says, her voice cutting. "You're not connecting. Try again."

Your mouth drops open slightly. That was powerful. You know it was.

Steve takes a deep breath, his knuckles whitening as he grips the podium. “I’m not a monkey on a unicycle.”

“Well, what a great start. No one wants a monkey in the White House,” she deadpans.

“I don’t need this. We did just fine in the first debate without you,” Steve nearly growls.

“Oh, I didn’t know we were aiming for just fine, I thought you wanted to win.”

Steve's eyes flash with a mixture of anger and frustration. The tension in the room is palpable, like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point. You can see the muscles in his jaw working as he grinds his teeth, trying to maintain his composure.

"I'm not here to play games or put on a show," Steve says, his voice low and controlled, but with an undercurrent of steel. "I'm here because I believe in this country and what it can be. I've fought for it, bled for it, and yes, even died for it. So don't tell me I'm not connecting."

Amy opens her mouth to retort, but Steve cuts her off.

"I've seen this nation at its best and its worst," Steve goes again, his voice growing louder, more impassioned as he speaks. "I've watched it rise from the ashes of the Great Depression, triumph over fascism, and push the boundaries of human achievement. But I've also seen it torn apart by fear, prejudice, and greed."

His eyes blaze with an intensity that seems to electrify the air around him. The room falls silent, everyone transfixed by the raw emotion in his words.

"I may have been enhanced by science, but my heart, my values - they come from growing up as a scrawny kid in Brooklyn who couldn't stand by and watch bullies win. They come from the men and women I fought alongside, who gave their lives for the ideals this country stands for."

Steve's fist comes down on the podium with a resounding thud, causing several people to jump.

"I'm running for president not because I think I'm better than anyone else, but because I believe in the promise of America - a promise that's been broken too many times for too many people. I've seen what this country can do when we come together, when we fight for what's right. And I'm here to tell you, we can do it again."

Steve's voice rings out, filled with passion and conviction. The room is dead silent, everyone hanging on his every word.

"So no, I'm not a traditional politician. I don't have decades of experience playing political games or making backroom deals. What I have is a lifetime of standing up for what's right, of putting others before myself, of believing that we can always be better. I'm running because I believe in the power of ordinary people to do extraordinary things when given the chance."

He pauses, his chest heaving slightly as he looks around the room. The silence is deafening, everyone ensnared by the raw power of his words.

"That's what this campaign is about," he says, his voice softening but losing none of its intensity. "It's about reminding every American that they have the power to shape this nation's future. That their voice matters, their dreams matter, this country over politicians and political agendas. It’s not a show to me.”

Steve strides away from the podium and walks out, and no one stops him. No one even moves until the weighted door to the suite swings closed again. Jake and Elsa begin conferring. Amy seems unconcerned. You’re sitting with Bucky and Sam, who exchange a look, and Bucky moves to stand, but you’re quicker.

“Let me go after him,” you find yourself saying, surprised at how fast you were to seize this situation, almost like a natural instinct.

You hurry out of the room, scanning the hallway for any sign of Steve. You catch a glimpse of his broad shoulders disappearing around a corner and quicken your pace to catch up.

"Steve!" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the empty corridor.

He stops, his back still to you, shoulders tense. As you approach, he turns slowly to face you. The fire in his eyes has dimmed, replaced by a weariness that tugs at your heart.

"Hey," you say softly, closing the distance between you. "That was... intense back there."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. It's just..." He trails off, shaking his head.

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. "It's okay. Amy was pushing hard. Maybe too hard."

He looks down at your hand, then up to your face. “I’m fine.”

“I think you’ve told everyone you’re fine every day of your life, Steve Rogers, and no one needs to exist like that.”

Steve cocks his chin slightly. “But the President of the United States should have it together, shouldn’t they? People want a leader they can trust.”

You smile, but it’s not a happy smile, and his expression matches yours.

“Can I ask…?” you venture cautiously.

He nods. “Wife privileges. You can ask whatever you want. Wife duties, probably, to ask me questions I don’t want to hear.”

Wife. A flutter flares in your stomach, but you force yourself to concentrate on the moment, furiously tamping down your reaction.

He resumes walking down the hallway, but more slowly this time, and you fall into step with him as you pursue your curiosity. “A monkey on a unicycle is an oddly specific and highly uncommon comparison to bring up. Is that some reference from your time?”

Steve huffs and his eyes fill with a mix of nostalgia and resentment as he begins to speak. His voice is heavy with emotion as he remembers his past. “I used to sketch a lot when I was young. We didn't have much during the depression, but my ma always managed to scrimp and save enough to buy me a notebook for Christmas or my birthday. It stuck with me up through joining the Army.”

His expression turns somber as he continues, "And after the serum changed my body but I was put on tour to encourage people to buy bonds, it just felt...underwhelming. Discouraging. I knew I could be doing more, making a real difference. But I did what I could - I knew raising money still helped.”

You reach the end of the hallway and stand next to each other, looking out the window.

“When they sent us out to Europe to entertain the troops, it only got worse. The last day I performed, for the 107th regiment, I was heckled and booed off stage."

Steve's hands clench into fists at his sides, "I drew a silly picture of a monkey riding a unicycle; it felt like that's all I was worth to them - just another pawn in their production."

You want to reach for his hand, but it doesn’t seem like the moment. So you simply continue to listen.

“That ended up being the last day I performed a show. I found out part of the company had been captured, stuck behind enemy lines. I disobeyed direct orders, found the men, saved Bucky. After that, everything finally changed, and we got to go to work, doing good, fighting Nazis and Hydra.”

A slight smile tugs at Steve's lips as he finishes his story, "I never wanted to feel like that monkey again. But the closer we get to election day, the more this feels like just a production.”

You stay silent for a moment, mulling over the pieces of his past and the feelings he’s just shared. This isn’t an easy conversation, and it’s not the conversation you thought you would have coming out here, but you’re grateful the two of you are having it together.

You aren’t by any means a seasoned politician either, but you had seen and had to at some points play at politics in your own work. “It’s all a show, there’s no denying that. But you’re not the monkey unless you sit back and let that be the reality.”

“How do you figure that?”

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before responding. "Steve, you knew from the beginning that this campaign would be a production. You agreed to it - all of it. Including," you gesture between the two of you, your voice softening, "this arrangement. Marrying a woman you'd never even met before."

Steve's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passing through them. You continue, your voice gentle but firm.

"You didn't do all this just to be a figurehead or a puppet. You did it because you want to be president. You want to be the one steering the strategy, calling the shots, making real change." You pause, making sure he's really listening. "This campaign isn't just about winning an election. It's preparation for the presidency itself."

You turn to face him fully, your eyes never leaving his. "This campaign, as frustrating and exhausting as it can be, is its own kind of preparation for the presidency. Think about it - you're dealing with conflicting advice, responding to the platforms from the candidates and how they overlap and differ from your own, connecting directly with the people across the country, making tough calls on what is and is not a priority.”

Steve listens intently, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considers your words. You can see the wheels turning in his mind, processing this perspective.

"You're right," he says finally, his voice quiet but firm. "I did agree to all of this." He runs a hand through his hair, a habit you've noticed he has when he's deep in thought. "I just want it to mean something. To be more than just sound bites and photo ops."

You nod, understanding his frustration. "It does mean something, Steve. Every interaction you have, every speech you give, every policy you propose - it all matters. You're not just going through the motions. You're shaping the conversation, influencing people's thoughts and beliefs about what this country can be."

Steve's eyes meet yours, a mix of gratitude and something deeper there.

"She’s right, Rogers,” a voice behind you makes you both jump and turn.

“This isn't just about winning,” Amy emphasizes. “It's about learning how to navigate the complexities of leading a nation, finding your presence as the leader of the free world, as commander in chief, winning the trust of the American people.

“The debates, the press conferences, the tough decisions you'll have to make as president - they won't always be fair or comfortable. That’s why I pushed you. You won’t answer every debate question like that, but I needed to know you could go there. That’s the kind of president America wants, but they don’t know it until they see it. If you can shake them to their bones, you’ll change hearts and minds.”

Steve smiles at her half in kindness, half in disbelief. “You say all of that pretty casually.”

Amy shrugs and returns the smile. “Because it’s true. I’m done beating you up now that I know you can go the rounds. If you want me to leave, I will, but I’m game to stay if you’re game for slightly less intense verbal sparring.”

“Oh, I can do this all day.”

[SEPTEMBER 28 - ATHENS, GEORGIA]

The campaign plane hums with activity in the minutes before take off. This cabin is filled with members of the press corps, their laptops open and fingers poised over keyboards, eager for any morsel of information they can turn into their next headlines.

Steve looks almost relaxed. His tie is loosened and sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. The energy from the successful event you just wrapped up at the University of Georgia still lingers in the air. This was the fourth event of its kind - a town hall format called College Q&A limited to students and granting them access to dialogue with Steve. You can't help but feel a sense of pride as you recall how he connected with the students, his earnest answers and quick wit seeming to win over even the most skeptical audience members.

It’s become routine that Steve always takes questions from the press corps when he boards the plane before heading to the campaign team cabin, and he’s truly at ease with them in this interaction.

“We’ll take one more,” the campaign spokesperson announces to let both Steve and the reporters know it’s almost time for take off.

“Andy,” Steve calls on one of the familiar faces - the reporter from The Washington Post.

“Yes, Captain, do you have any response to Jeff Connor’s comments about your relationship with Mrs. Rogers?”

Steve's whole demeanor immediately turns serious, his jaw clenching. "I haven't heard Connor's specific comments, so I can't respond directly. My relationship with my wife is personal, and it's not up for debate or speculation."

He pauses, his eyes scanning the cabin before continuing. "What I will say is that she has been an incredible partner, both personally and for this campaign. Her intelligence, compassion, and dedication inspire me every day to be a better person and a better leader."

Steve's gaze softens a fraction as he glances in your direction. "I'm grateful she agreed to take this journey with me."

The press corps erupts with follow-up questions, but Jake holds up a hand. "That's all for now, folks, you know they won’t take off until we’re all seated and we don’t want to miss our take-off window. Thank you."

You, Steve, and the rest of your staff head into the first campaign cabin, and as soon as the door is shut, the atmosphere shifts. The professional masks slip away, replaced by a mix of concern, curiosity, and irritation. Jake immediately pulls out his phone, you assume to get the quote in question.

Elsa, your communications director, is already pulling out her laptop as she settles into a seat across from Steve. "That was the perfect response back there. Quick and heartfelt. It'll play well, especially given the context of Connor's comments."

Your personal aide Sophia is already handing you a tablet to read the quote. "Here, ma’am. It came out during the Q&A, and everyone got wind of it as we were boarding the plane."

You take the tablet, your eyes quickly scanning the headline: "Jeff Connor Speaks Out: 'I Hope They're Happy Together'" The article features a quote from Connor: "I wish them both the best. Marriage isn't easy, especially in the public eye. I just hope they've found happiness together."

You pass it over to Steve and then chew on your lip, pulling out your own phone.

It only takes him a moment to read as well. "Thanks,” Steve's brow furrows as he loosens his tie further and passes the tablet back to Sophia. “This seems fine, unless I’m missing something. But who is this guy, and why would we care what he thinks of our marriage more than anyone else?"

A beat of silence falls over the cabin. You can feel the weight of several pairs of eyes on you, a mixture of surprise and shock in their gazes.

“Okay, I’m clearly the only one who doesn’t know,” Steve concedes, a shade of irritation bleeding through his tone, “Anyone care to enlighten me?”

You take a steadying breath, then look up at Steve and say, “Jeff Connor is my former husband.”

next part: coming 11/29

I'll just say that I've been waiting for this chapter in the story almost from the beginning. 😌

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#omg reblogged thank you #siri #writer commentary

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kaiyunsim · 1 day ago

Text

abscence of you —

pairing : bf!jaehyun x gn!reader

summary : you and jaehyun are caught between love and personal needs. you both watch as your relationship slips away, knowing they could never give eachother what they needed the most.

genre / warnings : angst, swearing (1 f-word), reader is lwk a red flag, maybe more

a/n : I LOVE BOYNEXTDOOR AND GRENTPEREZ ! also i rewrote this like two times cuz i was unhappy and still kinda am but i hope u guys enjoy ! (lmk if u want more cuz i like writing angst)

currently playing : absence of you - grentperez

— not proof read — wc : 1.1k —

you are always busy with making music but jaehyun never minded it because it’s your passion and he found it cute that you put your efforts into something you both like. he hasn’t seen you in a while thought and he really started to miss you so be wanted to surprise you at your apartment.

jaehyun opened the door quietly, not wanting to disturb you, knowing you are probably working on something. he made sure to get ramen that isn’t that spicy and has some mushrooms because it’s the way he likes it but also gets your favorite. he leaves the takeout on the table and sees you typing on the laptop.

“i got your favorite, let’s eat,” he says with happiness, finally getting to see you after a while. he approaches you and gives you a back hug.

“thanks, give me five minutes to finish this,” you say, not taking your eyes off the screen.

he only nods, moving to the table and unpacking the food and set up the table for the both of you. eventually, ten minutes pass and he just watches you work.

“are you going to eat before the food gets cold?” he asks gently, trying to remind you.

you glance at the clock, “oh, shoot. sorry, i lost track of time,” you reply, getting up and taking your seat at the table.

jaehyun begins to eat and you are about to start before your phone starts buzzing. you pick up the phone and start answering texts and he just watches.

“do you ever just stop?” he asks gently again. bothered, but not wanting to cause trouble.

you look up from your phone, which is now facedown on the table, and frowns slightly, “what is that supposed to mean?” you asks.

“forget it.” he pushes it off.

—

after that, you guys don’t see eachother for a while due to your conflicting schedules. whenever you could spare some time, he would be working on his songs. whenever he would be free, you would be busy with songs of your own.

the next time you would both see eachother is when you went on a hangout with your friends. they wanted to invite jaehyun so they asked if he wanted to join and he accepted.

you picked him up from his place and they all meet up at your place. it starts off as awkward before sungho, being the oldest hyung, wants to break the ice and asks a question to the couple.

“so what’s the next for you two? moving in together? engagement?” he asks lightheartedly, the last questions were in a more joking manner.

he replies half jokingly, rolling his eyes, “if i can ever get them to take a break from producing music on soundcloud.”

you laugh awkwardly, “what? i like where we are now. there’s no rush”

and the silence came back, as if nothing ever happened. but something did happen, tension increasing and sungho started to feel awkward.

his smile falters and he chugs the rest of his drink, not wanting to push the answer out of you.

later, you give jaehyun a ride home and the tension continues to seep into him but he decides to break it.

“you didn’t have to laugh it off like that…” jaehyun comments hesitantly.

“what are you talking about?” you ask, confused.

“the future, us. do you think about it?” he clarifies.

“of course, but i’m just… not ready for anything long term. there’s still so much i wanna do”

“yeah, and i guess i’m not a part of it” he murmurs to himself.

“hey thats not fair. im trying to build something for myself. that doesnt mean i don’t think about us” you answer. you sound somewhat annoyed at the constant comments from him.

“of course you think of us,” he says sarcastically.

“i don’t have time for this” you roll your eyes.

“you don’t have time for me, you mean” he says, raising his voice slightly.

“i didn’t ask you to come” you exclaim, matching his energy.

“jesus fucking christ y/n, i’m sorry i wanted to see my partner after a long day of promotions. i’ll just schedule an appointment next time.” he says sarcastically, throwing his arms up.

just as he says that, you stop the car as you guys are in front of his house. he undoes his buckle and gets out of your car, not wanting to deal with more of you for today.

days later, jaehyun hasn’t reached out, and neither has you. both being consumed by their own thoughts.

jaehyun replays their argument, torn between guilt and frustration. he wonders if he’s asking for too much or if you love him as much as he does you.

you try to focus on your work but feels a hollow ache whenever you check your phone and find no messages from jaehyun. you wonder if he’s tired of you completely.

jaehyun decides to stop by your place to talk. he just wants to communicate how he feels. when he arrives, he sees you on a video call with your team, all animated and smiling. he watches you through the party opened door, realizing how vibrant and alive you seem in your own world.

you spot him and quickly end the call knowing your team would understand. you open the door, your smile fading as you see the look on his face.

jaehyun looks at you with a weak smile, “you’re amazing, you know that?”

“what?” you reply, confused with where he’s taking this.

“you’re incredible at what you do, i just…”

he pauses.

“don’t think there’s space for me in your life.”

you sit there. letting the words sink in.

you shake your head, “that’s not true jaehyun, i’ve always wanted you with me.” you say, gripping onto his hands, eyes starting to water.

“but not enough to make me feel like i belong.” he says. finally being able to confess his feelings.

they both sit in silence. neither knowing what to say. finally, jaehyun breaks it.

“i love you, y/n. but i need more than this…”

jaehyun walks away, not wanting to turn back, leaving you stunned with tears streaming down involentarily. it’s not like you were sobbing, but god damn did you wanna crawl up and just cry. but your breath hitched, refusing to cry further

in the quiet of your apartment, you whisper his name into the empty air, knowing it was the closest you’d ever get to having him back.

#kaiyunsim #boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor x y/n #boynextdoor x male reader #myung jaehyun #myung jaehyun x reader #myung jaehyun x gn reader #kpop x reader #kpop x gn reader #kpop x male reader #kpop bg #kpop #boynextdoor angst #myung jaehyun angst #boynextdoor jaehyun #boynextdoor myung jaehyun

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assortedvillainvault · 2 days ago

Note

hello fellow blitzwing self shipper, i love the way you write him and i am suffering from thoughts of HIM. If it's not too much trouble, could you do a scenario where Blitzwing meets an actual human witch who also has elemental powers and how does their eventual relationship develop? (reader is non-binary.)

Greetings brave comrade, and thank you kindly! We all suffer here, such is the way in the Blitzwing Simp Squad.

I’ve left this more of a cliffhanger on the start of the relationship because I couldn’t get this scene out of my head – this was a really fun one to do so ty for the ask!

Blitzwing x Witch!Reader

He blinked.

He blinked again, with a different face.

“Vhat the frag.”

His plating wasn’t even scratched, but there was no doubt – and yes he did reply his own memory like a broken record just to be sure – that you had just tried to set fire to his shins.

Frag this planet.

His optic twitches as Random hysterically chants ‘Same hat! Same Hat!’ from inside his helm, instead grinding his dentae and trying to stomp on the infuriating little squishy. Feeble jets of half frozen mushy ice splatter against his frame as you run away, clearly not well versed in your irritating fragging mimicry-

Is this a tech thing? A human thing? A freak run-in with the powers that be? Blitz has seen it all during the war but a tiny fleshling with his own powers was just a push too far.

He had to be torn apart and welded back together by a sadistic turncoat spider to get his outlier upgrades, you do NOT get to flaunt a barely passable mockery in his faces – now HOLD STILL-

Of course the Autobots pick you up before he can crush you. Of course you join the myriad weird aft costumed humans he can’t be bothered to pay attention to. Of course he thinks the pointy hat looks stupid. Random wants to pinch the top of it and twirl you like a spinny top.

Of course he finds you trying to sneak into the decepticon mines. Alone.

The two of you stare each-other down. Icy raises an eyeridge after 10 clicks of increasingly sweaty silence.

Eventually, predictably, you snap. “Take a picture 'Con- it’ll last longer.”

Blitzwing takes a moment to refrain from grinding you into paste. Instead, he tilts his head and smirks.

Your phone pings.

“You can’t be fucking serious-”

“Vhat? Like it’s hard?” he shrugs, taking a step forward and enjoying the way you fumble backwards, looking incredulously at the photo of you he sent over. “Do you not have cameras built into your optics?” he asks mockingly.

“Do you not have shit to do somewhere else?!”

He catches the way fire licks in one of your tiny hands. It already looks brighter and steadier than the last time he saw you. Frost glitters on the fingers holding the phone.

He grins and crouches as low as he can. “No.” he says sweetly. “Vant me to leave?”

Your eyes widen in alarm as you register just how much he still towers over you – all escape routes cut off, your phone signal suddenly dead. “Yeah, that’d be great.” you whisper hoarsely, feeling the flames you’ve managed to summon sputter.

His faces spin gleefully onto Random’s glowing, grinning features as both cannons swing down with a hiss of hydraulics and lock on your position.

“Aw, cute! Make me.”

#thalassa responds #tfa blitzwing #blitzwing x reader #transformers animated #maccadam #x reader #blitzwing my beloved #thank you so much for the ask!!#lowkey I think this is one of the best things I've written for Blitz #he's just so done and all 3 are going to play with their food for once

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lilgaeguli · 8 hours ago

Text

[ pairing ] childhood best friend × f!reader;

[ sinopsis ] childhood friends with a mutual feeling that blossomed on a sunny summer vacation;

[ wc ] 3,4k

[ genre ] fluffy smut

[ warning ] unprotected sex (don't do this), fingering (f receiving), tons of rough sex, cute nicknames, Hongjoong is a certified lover boy, kitty slapping (once), nipple play, and some comedy at some point (???)

[ song reccomendation ] we can't be friends — Ariana Grande, sweater wheater — The Neighborhood, Friends — Chase Atlantic & Wild Thoughts — Rihanna;

[ n/a ] I really liked to write this cause I loved the vibe. I hope you get it 𖹭

[ ! ] everything written here is merely fictional and does not represent the artists mentioned.

It was supposed to be just a trip between old friends, but it turned out that spring found them, blossoming a forgotten passion.

Everyone ran from one side to the other shouting and singing while you felt your stomach churn as you laying down on the couch waiting for that damn nausea to pass, staring at the old, turned off television. The sun was slowly hiding behind the horizon beginning the night, but for you it only reminds you of the early morning you spent awake. With your eyes closed, you felt like a burden in that state. Through the reflection of the television, with half-open eyes you saw Hongjoong approaching.

— Are you better? — He said, leaning on the couch.

Your head throbbed just from hearing his voice a little louder. You grimaced, bringing a hand to your temple, almost begging him not to open his mouth anymore. Maybe it was a little rude of you.

— Uh, sorry — Then he noticed — I'll speak more softly.

— No problem, it's not your fault — You reassured him, closing your eyes to avoid the light — What time is it, Joong?

Your stomach growled, begging you to eat something, but you were sure you would throw it all up. Damn anxiety, it should have passed by now.

— It's 4:30 pm — he whispered thoughtfully.

Silence hung for a moment, but this time it caused you immediate loneliness. You felt something on your forehead, making you open your eyes with difficulty. It was just Hongjoong checking your temperature with his cold hand. His bright eyes were full of concern despite his expressionless face.

— You need to eat something.

Anxiety. Even the idea of swallowing something repulsed you. You always felt like this on long trips, it took a little less time for the nausea and anxiety to pass. Probably because this time you were traveling with just your friends for the first time, even though it was only a few days in your parents' old summer house, your intuition indicated that something was different.

— I don't want to. It'll pass soon. Besides, I don't want to throw up.

Let's just say that Seonghwa's car almost got a new decoration on the trip. However, not even this infamous reminder made Hongjoong give up.

— You're as white as a sheet, you need to eat – he said more imposingly — I'm going to make some tea and think of something decent, you're going to eat even if I have to feed you. Your mother will kill me if she finds out that I left you on the verge of anemia — That's an exaggeration.

It was strange how he always found a way to take care of you. Not strange, in fact very adorable, almost brotherly to say the least. Knowing that it would be smarter not to argue, you just nodded.

— Aren't you going to see the lake?

Almost as a reflex, Hongjoong picked up a pillow, hitting Mingi, who came into the room excitedly. Poor thing. You laughed softly, avoiding moving, causing a possible dramatic stab.

— Is she still sick?

— Shut up, Mingi! — he scolded once more, coming out louder than he would have liked. Realizing it, Hongjoong looked at you, pleading for mercy on his face.

Your lips twisted chuckling. The headache was going away. Mentally thanking yourself, you sat down and looked through the door that pointed to the huge lawn surrounded by the forest. You felt foolish for being in that state instead of reliving your childhood memories in that place.

— She’s fine, look — Mingi pointed out, regretting it in the same second due to the storm in his eyes threatening them — Ah… Hongjoong, we were thinking about playing marcopolo¹, maybe going into the forest once more. What do you think?

— Here’s what you do, Mingi — From the beginning of the sentence and Kim’s tone, you already knew what was coming — Why don’t you go ahead and whenever I shout “Marco” you shout “Polo”, we’ll run, I’ll find out where you are. It’ll be super fun — he said ironically, gesturing, that sharp smile was the cherry on the cake.

Giving you a discouraged look, Mingi left cursing softly. You let the laziness melt away from your body and stood up, your shoulders feeling lighter. You didn’t feel the slightest bit like running after butterflies or jumping in the lake with the boys, but it was a start.

— Joon, I’m going up to my old room. I want to take a shower but I promise I’ll come down to help with dinner.

Your feet touched the floor more firmly, a relief.

— No problem, just rest. I’ll be right up to get you something to eat, princess.

Just like the warm sun of that afternoon, that lovely nickname warmed your chest. You went upstairs, walking through the hallways lit only by the rays of sunlight through the windows. It was like reliving a perfect memory, you could smell the cookies your mother baked, perfuming the house, while you and Hongjoong played hide and seek.

You've always been together since you can remember. You grew up together, two children who used to fight over Pokémon cards now barely spent time together due to their busy lives. Seeing the man Kim Hongjoong become filled you with pride. Distant but so familiar, and even from a distance he found a way to take care of you. Maybe it's true that a girl's first crush is the purest.

Entering your room, you caught a glimpse of the wallpaper on the walls with some war marks, that is, chalk scribbles, and your clean bed with a stuffed rabbit on top. Everything was as it always was, as if you had never even left that place.

Stopping for a second you noticed that finally that anxiety and nausea had passed, relieved you looked for your suitcase that Seonghwa had left next to your old dressing table. Out of the corner of your eye you captured your image in the axed mirror. You were a woman now.

After a relaxing bath, you put on a white dress with yellow flowers, like when your mother would bathe you and tidy you up after playing all afternoon completing your memories. You sat in front of the dressing table, fixing your hair with a smile on your face. Just to see if it was just a daydream, you opened the drawers and proved to yourself that that room had stopped in time.

You found things that you didn't even suspect existed anymore, like an unfinished sketchbook full of folds and a photo album. You opened the small album, a little dust tickling your nose indicating the time the object had been forgotten. Each frozen image made a movie run through your head. Until you found a photo of Hongjoong and you together, his knee was scraped, next to the bicycle revealing the reason for the injury. You laughed to yourself as you remembered the story behind the photo. You decided that you were going to teach Kim how to ride a bike without training wheels, helped him, but only for the first 5 seconds before he took his body and the bike to the ground. In an attempt to help, you did as your mother did and showered him with kisses.

— Knock knock — speaking of him — what are you laughing at? I could hear it as I walked up the stairs — he said, entering the room, balancing a cup in his hand and closing the door behind him with his foot.

Was the house too quiet or were you really excited? Probably both.

—Try drinking a little, it might help ease the… anxiety — he got lost in his own words, but his proud face said what was necessary.

Hongjoong quickly admired you from head to toe, not wanting to be caught doing such an act. You nodded in thanks, grabbing the hot cup and leaving it on the dresser.

— I found some interesting things here. Want to see? — you asked, sipping his tea.

He quickly nodded and you made room for him to sit next to you. You put the cup aside and opened the photo album showing that funny photo, to say the least. When he saw the photo, his face lit up and his previously rigid shoulders took on a relaxed posture, but once again all you could pay attention to was that sweet and funny laugh.

— I didn't know that photo existed. My knee hurt just looking at it — he scratched his head

— Do you want a little kiss to make it better?

Adorable! Both of your cheeks turned a peachy shade. Every joke has a grain of truth. You wanted that, didn't you? — I mean, maybe it wasn't obvious, but you couldn't argue — Your fear was that you wanted that but it could be platonic, or worse, being rejected. Why would he, who watched you grow up and protected you so much, see you as anything more than a friend? But there was a small chance that he was thinking the same thing and that's what you clung to.

— There's one more thing I wanted you to see.

You rummaged through the drawer, fully aware of what you would find. Feeling the objects, you turned to him and placed them in his hands.

— Wait a second, I remember these rings — Holding the rings at his fingertips, he shook his head in disbelief — I bought us lollipops after school and they came as a gift. Later, we played wedding games.

He remembered, even more vividly than you. Hongjoong had a lot to say, questions to ask, it was clear but a lump in his throat held back his words. Suddenly he felt 13 again, looking at you still wondering if it was the right thing to do. A breeze hit the back of the man's neck, that silence creating the perfect environment just for the two of you as if the universe had finally aligned.

— I promised I would take care of you. Even if you left my side I would still be waiting for you — he laughed breathlessly, his eyes were aimless — After all these years... are you still mine?

Millions of fireworks exploded, clearing your mind, finally opening the horizon. It took a few seconds for you to formulate a cohesive sentence, if you knew how torturous those milliseconds were for him. You looked at each other calmly, looking like two fools. Finally, the two of you met again. You brought your faces closer, waiting for his reaction. He left the boy he used to be behind, without hesitation he started a warm kiss. It was sweeter than you could ever imagine, his soft lips against yours gave you goosebumps all over. Taking a liberty, he brought a hand to the back of your neck, deepening the slow kiss that like gunpowder ran through your body, warming you completely. It gradually took a needier turn, as if your bodies were now acting on their own, searching for a perfect connection.

— Joon… wait a minute — you separated, taking a breath. His lips shone, calling you once more, but you knew that from then on it would be dangerous territory.

— What happened? Did I do something wrong? — You wanted to pinch yourself. It was impossible for someone as kind as him to exist. Fool, that’s how you should feel for not having opened your eyes sooner.

— No, no, no. I just… — you didn’t want to say it, it felt wrong to say such a thing to someone who until a few seconds ago was nothing more than your best friend. But your mistake was forgetting that he knows you, from your tantrums to your silliest quirks.

— I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything. It’s okay — you said, making your lips form a line that was still cheerful.

That wasn’t exactly what you wanted to say.

You placed a hand on his chest, pushing him weakly out of the seat and standing up with him gently. You looked deep into his brown eyes and gave him two short kisses that had an innocent undertone.

— I’m tired of waiting for your love, Hongjoong.

Your hands ran over his shoulders, stopping around his neck, caressing the area. In perfect connection, he moved his hands, adorned with silver rings, to your waist, further limiting the distance between your bodies.

—Me too — he murmured — No more games.

Your lips met once more without any secondary thought making you question, in order to explore hidden parts of each other. He sought your warmth in someone who only offered him cold. After so long wanting more than the title “friend,” Hongjoong tried to remain calm, always aware of which part of you he could touch, controlling his growing urgency. You knew what you wanted, it was no longer a surprise. Given that, you helped him take off his shirt, throwing it anywhere in the room. That unknown sensation enveloped you more intensely to the point of being irreversible.

You guided him to the bed and laid him down, untying his belt, as passive-aggressive as he was. You seemed like completely different people at that moment, leaving any modesty aside. Your mesmerizing eyes enchanted him as you crawled towards him, that perfect vision at the same time angelic, promiscuous and seductive. You distributed kisses along his neck, going up his jaw to his ear, moaning softly just so he could have a taste of how much you wanted him. He grabbed your hips, adjusting you on his lap, desperately trying to have some kind of friction, that's when you felt how hard he was.

— I've been craving you for so long…

He whispered hoarsely, bringing you the taste of all the nights you fantasized about his hands running over the curves of your body, saying how good you're for him.

— So don't be shy, taste me.

You took off your dress, revealing your bare breasts. At that moment Hongjoong observed you like the most delicate piece of art, but he wanted to mark you, claiming you as his. He changed positions, attacking your breasts with kisses and hickeys. His tongue working on one of your nipples while he played with the other, pinching it, caused a mixture of sensations of sensitivity, pain and pleasure.

— shit, you're so amazing — you whined

— Oh, you like that? I can do this all night long, princess.

He grunted, smirking. Your nipple between his teeth caused you a strangely pleasurable agony. However, a lack grows inside you.

— I had a very nice dream that started like this — He said, looking at you, smiling sweetly.

— And how did it end? — you asked, feeling your skin boil.

— you teaching me how to make you feel good while I ruin my little princess.

His calm voice saying something so obscene was a reward for all the waiting during these years. You caressed his face, the warmth of his cheeks brought back memories, now being replaced by new ones.

— Let's end what you started — you whispered, pulling your silver necklace to get his attention.

He gave you a few short kisses, smiling sweetly at each small distance. From now on, words alone would not be enough to express his desires and feelings. While one of his hands supported you on the bed, the other slid down your body. After a light squeeze on your waist, he entered your panties. The silver of his rings made your stomach turn. Circular movements began on your pussy. He observed the smallest of your reactions, always returning to the most torturous points that were indicated to him, sliding his fingers over your slippery folds. He kissed your forehead lovingly even as you grumbled about his fingers searching for more.

— Please, Joon... I need you inside — You sighed a little frustrated.

— We waited so long, what are a few more seconds? — he teased, laughing — I just need to make sure I won't hurt you.

He didn't just want to try to take care of you, but to make sure that only he could hurt you the way he wanted. Slowly you felt your insides stretch and the cold silver once again made itself present, making you gasp heavily. Two of his fingers invaded you while his thumb continued its work tirelessly. Your low moans incited him even more, if you kept up this pace you wouldn't be able to last much longer, but it was far from enough. You grabbed his hand when you felt your sensitivity slowly increase, that didn't stop him from giving your swollen pussy a few taps, making you choke on your own breath.

— Hongjoong... — his sparkling eyes, so pure, begged for mercy.

He wanted to make sure that your first time together was the best possible for you, unfortunately they would have to avoid drawing attention. Next time he'll make sure to make you scream his name to whoever wants to hear, but right now he needed to remember what it's like to have fun with you.

— I want to see you cumming on my cock so badly

Hongjoong was making a great effort to contain himself just to worship you, but he couldn't ignore his own desire any longer. He got on top of you and pulled down his jeans, showing his covered hardness. He pulled you by the waist easily, already showing his need. The wet base of his cock slid over your wet pussy before invading you completely, making a wet sound, you swallowed every inch of him perfectly, your cervix was pressed, causing you ecstasy making you ignore any discomfort, feeling only him pulsating inside you. He moved his hips slowly, sliding into your warm interior, increasing the speed as your moans escaped.

— Fuck, you feel so good — he said, running his tongue over his teeth with a wicked smile, completely different from the Kim Hongjoong you always kept your eyes on — my babydoll is taking me so well…

The weakly afternoon sun hit his face and made him even more attractive, his concentrated expression and his hoarse moans made you lose yourself for a second, inert in pleasure in all forms, that's when you were surprised by voices outside the house, it seems the boys came back from the lake.

— Shit — he cursed, pushing the strands of sweat-damp hair back — Chill, baby. Don't hold back.

He stood above you, resting one hand on the headboard of the bed, now making full eye contact, which was a complete mess. It didn't take long for him to return to his work and thrust into you more aggressively this time, making it difficult not to make a sound. That's when he grabbed your hips, reaching your deepest point. Your insides contracted and euphoria took over you, you moaned slowly but were interrupted by him covering your mouth.

— Look at me — he couldn't be enjoying himself more — We need to be quiet. No one but me should hear you like this, right? — he asked rhetorically, going slower but rougher.

You nod with teary eyes, and he slowly takes his hand away, allowing you to breathe in relief.

— I don't care about who's outside — you whispered — Fill me up, please.

He was as surprised as you were to hear those words spoken by your sweet lips. Your wish was his command. Hearing you begging like that, he thrust into you again, hard, in contrast to a soft kiss that he started in an attempt to mask his own moans. You reached your limit, leaving his lips, and he just watched you so vulnerable, cumming on his dick, your liquids mixed and leaking through your pussy, sensitive to the touch. He lay down next to you, cradling you in his arms, caressing your hair, distributing simple kisses over every inch of your skin, showing how proud he was.

— You know we’re not just friends anymore, right? — You turned to him, snuggling into his chest, wondering if maybe you hadn’t sounded too oppressive.

— We’re already married. Have you forgotten? — He joked, easing the tension in your mind —Honestly, I don’t care about the title, but I’ll keep trying until you’re mine alone.

You kissed, leaving any doubts behind, staying there enjoying each other’s presence for a few seconds until you noticed the unusual silence for a full house. A few grumbles revealed the reason for the tranquility. Hongjoong snorted, rolling his eyes.

— Marco! — He called loudly, looking at the closed door.

And outside the room he heard someone answering “polo!”.

— Damn…

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wuuuuman · 2 days ago

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Hiii!

I was wondering if u can do hazard dating fem!reader who was in a really bad abusive relationship that she’s having a ptsd attack but thank fully hazards there to comfort reader 🫶

If ur uncomfortable doing this that’s ok!

Omg hey hey hey. Thank you so much for the request! I had a very fun (not) time writing this because the subject is horrible but i had fun making the abuser eat absolute shit tho. If anyone is suffering from an abusive relationship please tell a trusted loved one, i know it is very hard with all the manipulation and everything but you are strong! and you can survive! You can also vent to me if you need to :) TW: Depression, Eating disorder mention, abusive ex, Story will go into detail with mental/physical abuse. PTSD attack, anxiety attack. I have never experienced PTSD attacks or seen anyone having them so i had to go off on what google offers. Sorry if its badly written!!

NOT PROOF READ!!! (3.5k words i think.) - She doesn’t know how this one big sweet hunk of a man had managed to slither his way past her walls. She thought her defenses would be good enough, she thought no one could ever get past them again. But here she is, walking hand in hand with him. He was chattering about his latest adventure with the phreak gang, being so enthusiastic while explaining every little detail. She loved to listen to him, she actually preferred that as well. She was not the one to open up easily about anything, not about her feelings, her needs, nothing. In the past she was in a relationship with this one guy she fell in love with madly. She would have done anything for him, she really loved him. And at first it seemed like he loved her as much too, their relationship was perfect. They were the sweethearts of their college, the perfect couple, always the prom king and queen. He would spoil her with gifts and compliments, he would take her on expensive dates and bring her along on family trips. Everything was just perfect… Then it all changed in a blink. He would stop showering her with compliments and gifts, obviously she wasn’t with him for the gifts and luxuries… But she also wasn’t with him for those cruel insults he would throw her way. He would insult anything she did, he would negatively comment on her appearance and weight. ‘Why aren’t you taking care of your skin as well as Stacey does? I can already see pimples forming on your cheek.’ ‘You should really start hitting the gym. You’ve gained a bit of weight. I don’t wanna be seen with a pig.’ ‘Get yourself together, I have standards to keep up.’ He would always compare her to the other popular girls, those who were the spoiled rotten kind girls. Blondes with green and blue eyes, having the latest designer clothing and bags. All of this really damaged her self-esteem, she couldn’t look at herself in the mirror anymore. All she would see was this hideous monster with all the flaws and imperfections. Worst of all was the fact she knew she should leave him, but every time she tried talking to him he would fire back at her, manipulating her into thinking she needed him and that he was only trying to help her take “better” care of herself. ‘No one would want you in that state, I'm the only one who still wants to help you!’ ‘Please. Do you seriously think any guy would want a pig like you? Be happy I'm even allowing you to stand so close to me.’

And she believed him…

She stayed together with him for at least a year after his cruel personality came to be. Though the insults were not the only problem. It didn’t take long for him to pick up on partying and drinking again with his friends. He would go out to parties, rarely taking her with him, he would make out with other women and sometimes even have one night stands with them. The audacity he had to bring them to HIS house where she also lived. It hurt her so much to see him with another woman. The first time it happened she confronted him the next morning after the random girl had left, she cried out yelling at him. “How could you do this to me???!!” The answer she was met with was a slap to her face. Her eyes wide as she held her cheek, afraid to even look at him again. He started yelling back at her, throwing his hands around in frustration. After many times of asking her to look at him he had enough and took hold of her shoulders forcing her to look at him with her shock filled gaze. “How am I supposed to live with a ridiculous girlfriend who can’t take care of herself AND can’t even fill my needs huh?!!” He yelled at her face, pushing her down on the floor, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. She quickly scrambled away from him, jumping straight into her bed, crying into her pillow. Never in her life did she think he would lay his hands on her, hurt her like that. She doesn’t know why she didn’t just leave right then and there, maybe it was the months of manipulation at that point that still kept her under the roof. Or maybe it was the fact he had also gone as far as to threaten her if she ever left him. She was truly stuck and scared for her life. Her mentality had been scarred for good, she was depressed, she felt lifeless. She wanted to die, she wanted out of this situation. Her eyes were dull, no life behind them. She had developed eating disorders due to his comments and she had stopped taking care of herself all together. Her head was filled with nothing except self destructive thoughts and the need to escape this hell. The emotional abuse continued, and was even worse now. He kept on cheating on her with girls to satisfy his own needs, not bothering to even touch her in any way anymore. In his words she was too hideous to even look at. Not that she really cared honestly, she was glad he didn’t pay any attention to her, but still for some reason he didn’t kick her out. As she was one night scrolling through a social platform, looking at everyones happy lives, imagining hers could be like that as well had shen ever met her bf. She decided to go on his account, see what she was up to, what she saw made her heart break even more than it already was. He was posting a lot about her, acting as if he was her savior, making himself seem like an angel. So this is why he sometimes asked her to pose for a picture, the only

times he would give her small kisses or act sweet, the little hope she had began to get, vanished in an instant. She was only a pawn for him to use, she was a prisoner .It was during a shopping trip that the very thing she had been wishing for finally happened. Her bf had decided to take her out shopping for the first time in months, tired of seeing her in the same pair of clothes. She looked at the clothes in the thrift store, yeah he wouldn’t take her to expensive places anymore, apparently she wasn’t worth more than a few bucks to him. Not that she really cared anymore, she was never worth anything to begin with. After the very short shopping session they walked out of the store. She wasn’t really looking where she was walking and accidentally bumped into someone much bigger than her. She fell down on her ass, dropping her bag in the process. “Oh shit! My bad lassie-” The voice said, clearly someone Scottish. She looked up and oh lord the sight she saw. A very tall and frankly very muscular guy. He had blonde hair, his jawline was strong. He had a very stylish leather jacket on him, he was also pretty much half cybernetic. And his eyes… those beautiful orange-ish eyes, so full of life and energy… the complete opposite of hers. She was about to open her mouth and apologize but was cut off by her boyfriend. “Don’t apologize man, she should’ve been looking ahead.” Her boyfriend scoffed, taking hold of her arm and lifting her up rather harshly. “Cmon, apologize to him.” He demanded of her, giving her that look, she knew she would be in trouble later. “I-Im so sorry mister.. It was m-my bad.” She struggled with her words, not used to talking with other people. “It’s al’right. But are ya okay las?” He asked, one eyebrow raised a little bit after witnessing the way that man talked to her. She was surprised. Someone worried about her? Someone asking if she was okay? No no… He must be talking to her boyfriend. She was about to answer again but was stopped with a hard grip on her shoulder, making her wince. “She’s alright. Now go on mate, don't stick your nose into business that ain’t yours.” Her boyfriend said, turning her around to walk off. “Ay, wait up just a second here lass. Yer partner obviously ain’t feeling too well. And based on what I’ve seen by a minute I don’t think yer treatin’ her correct.” He said, stepping closer,

stopping her boyfriend by holding onto his shoulder. “Get your fucking hand off me. She is perfectly fine with me, right babe?” Her bf asked, threateningly. She stared between her boyfriend and the stranger. This could be her chance to escape from his constant torment and abuse, but the thought lingered, his threats made her hesitate a lot. ‘No no… (Name) this is your time. Who cares about his threats, you NEED to get out.’ Her mind would yell at her. “No.. No i'm not fine! He has been tormenting me for ages… I-I need help, please!” She said loudly, escaping from his grasp, her heart beating so fast. “You little fucking bitch! I’ll kill you-” He yelled out, about to punch her, only to be stopped by the strangers hand grasping his wrist. “Will you shut yer pus and get lost dafty.” He said, the threat evident in his voice. Her boyfriend stared at the stranger, his eyes wide. He let out a yell and went to punch the stranger, only to be met by a cybernetic hand to the face, knocking him out cold immediately. She gasped, looking away from the scene, afraid. “Sorry about that wee yin. Had to teach that scabby lass a lesson. Ya alright?” He turned to stare at her, keeping his distance, not wanting to scare the poor girl more. “I- thank you… Thank you so much…” She cried out. “It was nothin’ Could tell he wasn’t treatin’ ya right. The name’s Hazard, what about yus?” The man said, holding out a hand to give a gentle shake, if she wanted to of course. “(Name..)” She gave a weak smile, accepting the handshake.

- That all happened a good two years ago. It took a lot of time for her to open up to the idea of dating again. Hazard never pushed her into anything, nor did he really talk about wanting to be in a relationship with her directly. Of course from the day he met her, he already felt a certain pull towards her. Half a year after they met and started regularly hanging out his feelings truly became clear to him. She on the other hand felt safe for the first time in her life after they began hanging out, but the fear of it all going wrong again made her very scared and wary of everything they did together. It took her a good year before she realized she liked him, she didn’t know if she should pursue her feelings, and talk to him about him. She didn’t even know if he felt the same, she didn’t know if he would want to date someone as scared and vulnerable as her. After a long talk and feelings shared they shared a deep and meaningful hug, and they began dating slowly but surely. He assured her that every step of the way he would respect her boundaries, he would never initiate anything between them, she would have all the power. She respected that, a lot. A few months into their relationship she was ready to open up more about her past with her ex. She told him how he treated her, how her mental health suffered greatly because of him. How she was still struggling with her self esteem and mental problems because his words and actions would forever haunt her. Hazard listened through everything, gave her warm hugs whenever she started breaking down while explaining her story. Telling her it was never her fault and that her imperfections were what made her beautiful. He helped her get onto her feet, helped her with her eating disorder, getting her back to a healthy weight slowly but surely. Her hair got longer and more healthy, her bones slowly getting covered and her skin becoming more colorful. She still struggled with nightmares to this day, but whenever she woke up in tears he was there to wipe them away and calm her down. At the half year mark of their relationship she finally got the courage to kiss him, to let him hold her in a more intimate way, she loved every second of it. It had been so.. so very long since someone had loved her like Hazard did. He never went further than kissing her sweetly, he never even touched her unless she guided his hand somewhere on her body.

Her thoughts got cut off by Hazard patting her on the shoulder, pointing at the cafe they were supposed to eat at. She smiled at him and they went inside, ordering their food and going outside to eat. “Ay. I’m gonna go use the restroom real quick’ ait bonny?” Hazard smiled at her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Of course darling, I'll wait out here.” She smiled at him, watching as he got up and headed into the cafe. She stared at the scenery around her, looking at all the people walking around and socializing with each other. She felt so happy with Hazard, she felt lucky that she bumped into him when she did, otherwise she feels she would still be trapped or in the worst case scenario dead. As she bit into her croissant, not really paying attention to her surroundings her ears picked up a familiar voice, her heart stopped for a moment, her eyes widening in panic. That voice… no no.. it can’t be. It can't be! She raised her gaze just slightly to see her abusive ex talking with his now possible partner. A really hot one at that, obviously he would only go for the model type girls. She stared for a moment, a mistake she would soon come to regret as his gaze wandered before landing onto her. His mood shifted, happiness turning into anger. She knew that gaze. The look he would always give her whenever he was angry or disappointed with her, the gaze he had when he laid his hands on her. He said something to the girl before walking towards her. No no no no! She panicked, immediately opening her phone and typing a panicked message to Hazard, hoping he would notice it quick enough. Her heart was racing, her anxiety skyrocketing, all the bad memories crashing down around her in an instant. She flinched as she felt a hand slam down in front of her, she almost dropped her phone in the process too but held it close. “Look what we have here. Little piggy out here eating all by herself. Still haven’t been able to let go of the treats huh? No wonder you’ve gained so much weight again!” He laughed mockingly. She couldn’t answer, she couldn’t look at him, the only thing she could do was sit completely still, eyes glued to the ground, shaking. He got irritated fast by her ignoring him, he took hold of her jaw, forcing her face to turn to him.

She screamed out alerting all the other people nearby, some of them continued on and some just stared. “Look at me when I'm talking to you bitch!” He spat at her. She refused to listen to him, this angered her ex and he was about to say something again, only to be lifted off of her into the air. She stared as Hazard held him up high by the collar of his jacket, anger filling her usually sweet and collected boyfriend. A look she had never seen before, and didn’t want to ever either. Her mind blocked out everything he yelled at her ex, she had stopped looking too, she held her head in her hands, her body shaking uncontrollably, she was about to have a breakdown. She heard the sound of a hard punch being thrown at someone and then a table getting smashed. Some people trying to get in between the fight and stop it. And as quickly as it all started it ended. Her ex was bruised and bloody on the ground, his now current girlfriend trying to wake him up, yelling profanities at Hazard. “Haud yer wheesht hackit. Yer boyfriend had it comin’ should’ve never come close to (name) again.” Hazard scoffed, before turning to (Name), seeing her in such a state broke his heart. “Come on bonny, let’s get outta here.” He said. She could only slowly nod as he took hold of her hand leading her away. The car ride was long and silent, Hazard kept looking at her, wanting to make small talk but he could tell she was in a bad place right now. As they finally arrived home she immediately got out of the car and ran inside her apartment, Hazard quickly following after. The moment she got inside her bedroom she fell to her knees breaking down completely, all the panic and years worth of memories breaking free. She cried out loudly, curling up into a small defensive ball, her body shaking like crazy. She couldn’t breathe, all she could hear and see were the memories. She could only hear her ex’s hurtful words, she could only feel the pain he inflicted on her. She was completely dissociated from the real world, being kept as a prisoner in her own memories. A few seconds felt like minutes to her. She was sweating profusely, her heart thumping against her chest.

Hazard ran into her bedroom, kneeling next to her, he didn’t know what to do. He had never seen this before, sure she had small episodes here and then but this was different. This was so much different. He tried to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze but was met by her body twitching violently at the touch and her screaming out.

“STOP! DON’T HURT ME PLEASE!” She would yell, thinking Hazard was her ex. “No no no.. Bonny… It’s just me, you’re fine, you’re alright… I’m here.” Hazard spoke in such a sweet tone, trying to get her to calm down at least a little bit. She was still sobbing, still curled up not responsive. He didn’t give up, he talked to her through it all, he didn’t touch her, he didn’t want to trigger another reaction from her. He just talked, he told her about their old memories together having fun and laughing at stupid things. He talked to her about his gang, the things they do and the embarrassing memories of himself.

She was starting to calm down just slightly, her shaking becoming minimal, her loud cries turning into small sobs here and there. He would praise her for doing so good, for being a strong survivor. It had been almost an hour since her episode began and she was finally beginning to calm down enough for her body to relax. She wasn’t curled up into a tight ball anymore, she was still lying on the floor though, still unable to look at him.

“Yer doin’ so good wee yin. I’m proud of ya.” Hazard smiled, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“H-hazard..?” She mumbled out weakly, lifting herself up just slightly to look at him.

“Yeah bonny? I’m here, whateva you need I’ll get it for ya” Hazard said.

“D-Don’t leave me… please just.. just hold me.” She begged.

He didn’t need to be told twice, he didn’t even need to answer as his hands found themselves around her waist, pulling her into his embrace. She sat on his lap, her face in his bare chest, listening to his calm heartbeat, the warmth of his skin soothing her. His hands rubbed her back lovingly, whispering quiet praises into her ear. Her sobs disappeared completely, her body was now relaxed, her heart no longer racing and thumping against her chest. She could feel herself succumbing to fatigue, her vision slowly blacking.

“Tired.. I'm so tired…” She mumbled against his chest.

“I got ya. Let’s get into bed a‘right hun.” Hazard said, as he lifted her from the ground, holding her close.

He got into bed, still holding her close to her, having her almost on top of him. He pulled the covers over her and stared at the top of her head, giving her a small kiss to calm her down more. “Im never leaving yer side alright? Sleep well bonny.” He mumbled, still giving gentle rubs on her back. She felt safe, she could sleep without worrying about anything. She knew Hazard was a good man, she let sleep take her into dreamland. And for the first time in a long long time she did not see nightmares. She only saw Hazard in her dreams, she saw dreams of their future, living out their days together in happiness. A smile decorated her face, a sight that made Hazard's heart jump in happiness. He truly loved this woman to bits, he would do anything for her, Anything.

- our little green flag bf.

#overwatch x reader #overwatch #hazard x reader #hazard overwatch #hazard #xreader #angst with a happy ending #angst #fanfiction #overwatch fanfiction

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