#when she almost fell off the wall? i screamed

[aflockofravens]

THEY WERE SO CLOSE TO A KISS! SO CLOSE!

AHHHHHH

[sukunas-wife]

What about Y/N and reader having a little baby girl. Sukuna was disappointed at first because he wanted another boy. But she becomes so attached to her papa since she was a baby. Like she sees cuts on his hands (she doesn’t realize he can use RCT yet) and tries to treat his wounds 🥺🫶🏽

~🪽

I though tumblr ate your ask when I scrolled 5 times and could find it and I panicked so hard 😭 So cute 🥺 Im pretty sure we’re going with Anya, but I suck at catching her personality so I’m just going to go with general daughter reactions for this 🥹🤍🤍

(Note: I tried, but I feel like I’m always lacking in the daughter area. Maybe I need to borrow my niece ;-; also, its a little short…) finally back into it tho 😎

Your room fell silent, the cries filling the air were almost piercing. You felt like you knew this was bound to happen. Yuji was a miracle, but your second child was born a girl. You knew Sukuna had only ever cared about having heirs, so in the silence you were on edge of what he would say or do.

It was strange watching him in that moment, she was crying in his arms, he was staring at her with that black expression that always appeared like a frown. He shouldn’t have been so openly disappointed, he knew from the start when your stomach started to swell and he hadn’t noticed until he touched your round belly. The child in your stomach had not an ounce of cursed energy to leave a presence, much less for him to be able to tell what it could be. Yet he held out hope for a boy, even if the lack of his presence was due to a heavenly restriction, he could work with that. But no, the little pink haired girl crying and screaming in his arms was enough to leave him perplexed. He shook his head, handing her over to you, you watched him while you began to breastfeed your daughter.

“Sukuna..” your voice was a whisper followed by a cringe of feeling like your insides were coming out. You wanted to comfort your husband but you didn’t feel right. “Sukuna,” your lower stomach kicked in painful cramps, and everything moved in a rush. Sukuna was pushed out of the room and heard the panic of your caretakers clearly.

—- —- —- —- —-

The day had passed and he sat outside your room, they had persisted he did not pass. So he sat out there waiting until the early hours of sunrise when they brought out his daughter. He took her in his hands, you couldn’t see it past her pink hair and eyes, but to Sukuna she had your face. She was small and round but to him, she looked so similar he was in disbelief you had won over that part of his genes.

He sat there all day, holding her to his chest, while his head leaned back against the wall. His eyes were closed but he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t rest, he could tell you were alive, but it felt like you were just barely there. He looked down in his arms, the little bundle of clothes moving around slightly as your daughter moved, crying out. He wanted to hand it off to a servant as his hand came up to uncover her face more to look at her, that was until her hand slipped out taking a tight hold of finger. She stopped crying for a moment just sniffling, her little nails falling digging into his skin. “Come, stop your crying.” His free arm came to lightly run over his little wrinkly cheeks, “my child.” He was looking at her with such a soft look, the servants found it endearing. It was then he decided he would take care of her as he did Yuji, his child, his pride.

—- —- —- —- —-

Years passed, and you were outside with Yuji. Watching Anya’s big eyes growing in size as an emperor butterfly slowly fluttered around the garden. It had been a month since Sukuna had left on one of his little excursions, you were curious why his supposed two week trip became a month long trip. But you had your 13 year old Yuji who was laying in your lap passed out from his own Ventures of the day and your 3 year old girl keeping you busy, you didn’t feel as lonely as when it was just yourself. “Mama!” Your hand kept running though Yuji’s hair, “Yes sweetheart?” Your little girl came running up to you, “Papa!” You could see the stars in her eyes as she pointed behind her, past the garden. You looked seeing the all too familiar and burly silhouette in the distance. You faked a gasp, “It is papa! He’s almost home. Do you wanna go get him the sweets you made?” She perked up more, “Yeah!” You watched as she ran off inside the house singing a song as her steps padded on the ground. Yuji slowly sat up, eyes squinty as he looked around “Dad?” You laughed while rubbing his head, “Yes.”

You started to get up, Yuji rushing up and offering to help you as you struggled to get up, “my leg is tired from being in one place too long.” You laughed and Yuji grinned, “Sorry’ was tired.”

You simply rubbed his head, “It’s fine, go get your sister, she’s been away for a while already.”

Yuji ran off to find his sister while you tried to ignore the feeling in your legs. You moved closer to the edge of the garden Sukuna was approaching in fresh blood, the closer he became the more you noticed the minor scrapes and cuts on his body. You rolled your eyes with a smile, he shrugged off the top of his robes once he had realised your eyes were trained on his body. It would be a lie to say you didn’t find him attractive in this form of glory, but for the sake of your kids you wouldn’t touch his chest and give him that look. It was when he stood in front of you that your dominant hand pulled your handkerchief from your obi, your free hand cradling his face before cleaning his face of the foreign contaminant.

“I see my husband is home, sturdy, well and revelling in his victories.” You hummed as you finished cleaning his face, pulling him towards you gently so you could kiss him. As you pulled away from what was going to be a soft kiss he pulled you back in to catch your lips longer, “Mhm.” Was all

He hummed against your lips, aside from the hand on your head, two of his free hands came to your waist to pull you closer. Placing your hands on his chest you pushed yourself back a little to stare up at him, “Your little girl has been asking and crying for you to come back. She even made you a little treat everyday for when you arrived.” He hummed, eyeing you, your hands moving to rest on his biceps, “They should be here. I sent her in to retrieve what she worked so hard on.” Your head turned exposing your neck to him, his last free hand coming up to run his nails over the tender flesh, “I’m sure she’ll be back soon enough, as for now I’m craving the feeling of something else.” His hand angled your head away, teeth and lips running over the plush pulse point on your neck, until he huffed at your resistance, “how impervious.” He pulled away, hands sliding from your waist as he looked away visibly upset. You couldn’t fight the smile, “We should go, it might be a waste waiting longer out here then if we go find them.”

—- —- —- —- —-

That’s how you ended up in this situation. Yuji was sitting by his dad with a big smile listening to the story of how he single-handedly levelled another city. Anya was sitting on his lap bouncing along as his body shook when he’d let out a louder laugh or was jostled around with his movements. That was until she noticed the smallest cut on his stomach and let out a loud gasp making all of you turn to look at her.

”Papa! You’re hurt!” Sukuna looked down, seeing the small surface wound that left a red line of broken skin over his side stomach. “Oh, I suppose I a-PAPA NEEDS BANDAGES” she was rushing off feet pattering over the floor as Yuji mumbled, “But.. can’t dad use reverse cursed technique…” he looked confused as he closed his eyes tilting his head to the side. You looked at your husband who sighed with a faint twitch at his lips and placed a hand on Yuji’s head messing up his already tousled hair. “Interesting, I remember another brat with pink hair who did the exact same thing.” Yuji smiled under the weight of his fathers hand.

Anya came running in with a bowl of water spilling everywhere and other things tucked under her little arm. You watched as Ryomen steadied her after she spilt water onto his lap trying to clean his wounds as she had watched you done when your husband would crave your attention and purposely not heal his own wounds leaving you to tend to him. He cringed as more water spilt onto his lap as she un purposely smacked his stomach with a soaking rag rubbing at the small flesh wound, Yuji tried not to laugh as you laughed quietly behind your hand watching as Sukuna tried to help only for Anya to yell at him “No! I can do it papa! You’re hurt!”

The screen was cute as he cringed more at the cold water, relieved when she stopped only to become stressed when she pulled out the roll of wraps. She had seen you use those wraps on Yuji many times when he would become injured or hurt. What she didn’t see was how her father was much larger in size, those tiny wraps wouldn't circle his waist even once.

When they couldn't, Anya became frantic, rushing to jump off her father and run to get more bandages. This was until Ryomen caught her mid jump, “Lemme go daddy! Need more wraps!” He sat her back on his lap, “No you don’t brat, I'll show you something better.”

Anya looked up at her dad with glossy eyes and a wobbly lip, “Press your hands here.” You watched as he guided her small hands to his stomach over the wrap, “Put all your force behind it.” She forced her eyes closed, pressing both her hands against his stomach with all her little muscle. Using the slightest bit of his reversed cursed technique he pulled her hands away, “See.” Her eyes opened slowly and the red mark on his stomach was gone. Her eyes lit up as she looked up at him, “I DID IT!” Ryomen couldn’t fight back the twitch of his lips that pulled into a smile, “You did.” Her hands clasped together with starry eyes, her stare locked on Yuji, “I can fix you.”

Tag List: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @sakunawifey @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@bofadeezs

[cherryc1nnam0n]

You entered the wrong house, pretty boy! | Ghostface!Ethan Landry x FEM!Reader

Based on this poll I did, we have this masterpiece

Summary: Ethan made a big mistake by entering your house, a Ghostface fan

Cw: Dub con, P in V sex, unprotected, creampie, he resists at first but then gives in, virgin!Ethan, Ghostface!Ethan, mask kink, riding, mirror sex, recording while having sex, multiple orgasms, excessive cum, overstimulation, spit, knife mentions, rough sex, hair pulling, oral (male receiving), ball play

It was late at night, almost 1 am and you were still awake, sitting on your bed reading a book, when something coming from your living room startled you

"What the?" You said getting up to go investigate, a sandal on your hand, pure instinct

When you reached the place where the noise had come from you saw nothing, just your cat licking her paw

"Callie, you scared me" you whisper yelled at her and she blinked slowly at you "Awe"

You turned around and where met with a masked figure, he tilted his head and pulled out his knife

"Why you up so late?" He asked in a weird voice

"I-I" he started to walk and corned you against a wall, placing the knife against your throat, which made you moan

"What?" He asked genuinely concerned

"Oh what you thought I would be scared?" You said defiantly and he just stood there "Baby, this is having the reaction you least expect" you said squeezing your thighs

He looked down and breathed heavily, where you aroused by this? Where the hell is he?

"Wait, aren't you Britney?" You shook your head "Oh shit, my bad I-"

"What? You were supposed to be in someone else's house?" He nodded, feeling like an idiot "Awwwe, it's okay baby, I'll take good care of you" you said begining to walk into him

"W-wait, hold on, lemme just-" he tripped against your coffee table falling backwards, he tried crawling to the door but you grabbed his foot and began dragging him to your room "Hold on wait! No!"

"Oh you're not going anywhere baby, you entered the wrong house, pretty boy!"

He screamed while you dragged him away into your room, finally inside you ran to close the door and lock it, he backed away from you and you looked at him with hungry eyes

"This has been my fantasy for so long" you licked your lips, scanning him

He was tall, broad even, but you didn't really care about who he was, you just wanted him to fuck you, or you to fuck him

"What is wrong with you?" He asked concerned

"Many things" you said taking your shirt off, boobs falling off freely "Now give me your cock"

He screamed again and you tackled him into the bed, hurrying to lift off his robe so you could free his cock, under it there were pajama pants, so cute, you easily found his mid hard cock, maybe from when he saw your tits

"It's big, I'm gonna have fun with it" you said smacking his dick against your face, he breathed heavily as he saw you play with his cock

You started to suck his dick, it was uncut so you pulled the skin back to suckled his head, he began to moan and grabbed the sheets, bucking his hips up into your mouth, your other hand freed his balls so you could play with them, his breath hitched and he started whining

"Please, please" he said under the mask, you could hear his breath heavy

Your mouth went down to suck his right ball into your mouth, looking up at him while you did so, his head fell back as he finally came all over himself and your face, he came a lot so you just kept pumping him dry for it

"Fuck, stop stop too much, ahh"

You finally released his cock with a pop, licking your lips clean from his cum

"You taste good baby"

You climbed on top of him, removing your pajama shorts and sitting completely naked on top of him, you grinded onto his dick making him whine again, he really liked to do that huh?

"You're a whiney man, you really that desperate?" He nodded

"I'm a virgin" he said lowly and you chuckled

"I can tell" you said to his ear

You grabbed his cock and guided it onto your entrance, sinking down making him hiss and whine, cursing under his breath

"Feels good right?"

He nodded desperately, his hands finding your hips, squeezing so hard he would leave marks

You started bouncing on him, his eyes rolling back behind his head, you bit your lip throwing your head back, your hips moving sexily on top of him, his masked figure was turning you on so much but you were curious of who he was, so taking advantage of him being in pure bliss, you lifted his mask until you took it off entirely, revealing none other than your crush Ethan Landry

"Ethan? I knew you were weird but a killer? And Ghostface? Wow"

"Fuck, don't tell anybody"

"Or what? You gonna kill me? Don't think so" you clenched around him purposely "If you don't kill me, you can fuck me whenever you want"

"I-I, fuck, you feel so good" his eyes rolled back

You kept going faster on him until you felt the familiar tingling of an orgasm, his hand was rubbing your clit while you held onto his thighs so you could roll your hips against him, the tatch of hair at his base rubbing against your clit deliciously

"I'm cumming, gonna cum fuck!" You said orgasming on top of him

He held your hips and thrusted up into you, your tits bouncing as he did so, finally releasing inside you with a loud whine

He fell limp on your bed, his breath erratic as he kept jerking from cumming, he took like 2 minutes to finish cumming

"Wow..." Was all you could say after that

His dick fell off your pussy when he grew soft again, his cum flooding out of you, coating his base and his thighs, running down his ass, his breath hitched when he felt that

"What? You done pretty boy? I thought you could take more than that"

He looked at you, then took a deep breath and sat up, kissing you deeply, his tongue shoving into your mouth, his hand held the back of your neck and while his other grabbed your ass cheek

"I have an idea"

Now in front of your mirror you held your phone up while your chest was against your carpet, your ass jiggling with every thrust Ethan gave you, his hands holding onto your hips, you were recording the whole thing from a beautiful angle that showed hos good he was fucking you, his mask was back on his face, he tilted it as he looked into the mirror, enjoying the view

"Fuck, you like that pretty girl? Like being fucked by a murderer?" You moaned at him "Answer me, bitch!" His voice changer was on as he said that

His left hand grabbed your hair and yanked you back, you moaned from it, eyes rolling back

"Yes I fucking love it, don't stop"

"Good girl"

The skin slapping noises were so loud you thought you would wake up your neighbors, but you couldn't care much because of how good Ethan was making you feel

He reached for his mask and pulled it up until only his mouth was visible, spitting a fat glob onto your ass letting it drip to your pussy, adding extra wetness into his fucking

His cock was hitting your g spot on every move, he was big, uncut and fat, just perfect, and he knew how to use it

"Fuck I'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming!" You said drooling at the mouth as your second orgasm barreled in

"Good girl baby, fucking cum all over my cock"

With a few sloppy thrusts he finally came again, coating your insides with his warm cum for a second time that night, he massaged your ass as he kept rutting softly into you to keep cumming

"All nice and stuffed baby, so good" he said smacking your ass

Turns out it wasn't that big of a mistake to break into your house...

[teatreeoilll]

w/c: 750 Part I - A drabble - headcanon thingy of our favorite king of red flags curses, set in a Heian-era village. i dunno anymore. | Part 2 here

Childhood!FriendSukuna who first met you as he stood at the brink of death.

"Mom, hey, mom." You tugged at her sleeve, directing her gaze at a frail boy, about seven or eight, on the verge of collapse behind the village market stall, "Can I give him an apple?" It's a bad month, she thought, glancing at the contents of her basket; this kindness might cost an empty stomach later on.

"No dear, he'll be fine." But you already ran off with an apple, your tiny legs making their way to the sickly boy.

"Here," you held the apple in front of his face, to which he narrowed his eyes, extending a scrawny arm to smack it away.

"I don't need your trash." He barked, his voice harsh as he gathered saliva in his mouth, spitting at your feet, “Peasant.”

As soon as your mother dragged you away, he picked up the apple, eating it whole.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who didn’t mind the insults the villagers threw at him while he was knee-deep in mud, plowing the fields for a cup of stale rice in the evenings.

"That brat is cursed," the whispers would grow amidst the village's council meetings, "If we stop feeding him, he'll leave."

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, whose malnourished limbs betrayed him as he fell face first on the rice terrace with the hot sun still ablaze on his back.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who woke up almost a day later under an unknown ceiling, fever gnawing at his head under a wet cloth.

"Mom! Mom!" You shrieked from the corner of the room, "He's awake!" and a woman came in with a warm cup of tea, the taste of which lingered on his tongue as he drifted back to sleep.

"Let me die, brat." His hoarse voice was still weak when he came back to his senses as you placed a fresh, dampened cloth over his forehead.

"My name's not 'brat,'" you informed with a scoff, "It's (Name); what's yours?"

Too ashamed to admit he didn’t know the answer, he turned away and closed his eyes.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, whose mouth hung agape when you pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead one night while muttering, 'mother told me that a kiss can heal any sickness'.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, who disappeared as soon as he found the strength to walk again, returning to the fields only to find that the farmer's wife would no longer spare him dried-out rice when he finished a day's work.

"They should have let him die," he heard the farmer's wife proclaim through the thin walls of the cabin, "That self-righteous linen maker and her irritating daughter. That brat probably cursed them, too."

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who killed the farmer and his wife, unleashing a torrent of power he never knew resided within him; some kind of strange magic, he thought, wondering if the whispers of curses were more than the village gossip. The air hung heavy with the metallic tang of blood, and for the first time, he could breathe.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who disappeared after the crime, only to emerge a decade later, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake as he razed and burned each village in his path - laughing as he watched the terror-stricken villagers bow at his feet, crying and begging and dubbing him devil.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who spared you as the village you once called home turned to ashes around you.

"I owe no debt to you now." He announced.

Tears pooled in your eyes, and a scream escaped your lips as you broke down on your knees before him, "I should have listened," you wailed, fingers clawing at the dry dirt beneath you, "They said you were cursed," you hurled a mass of dirt at him, hitting his chest, "They said the devil came to the village the day you were born."

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who passed through the village again the next day, just to see you lying between the rubble, limbs sprawled on the dirt and ashes.

"I've extended you kindness." He said, covering the sun with his frame as he loomed over you, "Leave."

And you laughed, shaking and howling until the sides of your body started stinging, and the words came out as mere gasps; "And go where?"

"Wherever you wish."

"Home," You declared, locking eyes with his confused expression, "I want to go home."

You weren’t sure what sick thoughts ran through his mind when he leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your forehead, so you smiled, his face still a mere inch away from yours; "It's my fault." you confessed, "So, the next time we meet, I'll fix it, okay?" A deadpan expression took over as you added, "I'll kill you myself."

-

[rafeysbafey]

✮ WE THOUGHT GHOSTFACE GOT TO YOU —ETHAN LANDRY

SUMMARY. you don’t realize how loud you were with ethan until you see the group.

WARNINGS. MDNI, smut under cut, fem!reader, dom!ethan, degrading, language, fluff, mentions of gf

WORD COUNT. 0.3k

ethan was pounding into you at a relentless pace, his hands gripping your hips painfully as his nails dug into the soft skin.

your head was thrown back against the pillow as you cried out in pleasure, his cock hitting a certain spot just right causing strings of moans to escape your lips.

“you like that, slut?” he spat, one hand leaving your waist to grab your chin and force you to look at him.

your pupils were blown and tears stained your cheeks as you stared up at him.

“you like being my little fuck toy?”

you could only nod, your mind foggy and throat scratchy from all the screaming you had done.

he didn’t seem satisfied with your answer, his thrusts stilling for a second so he could loop his hands under your legs and yank you closer to him.

his cock practically penetrated your insides, ethan bringing you impossibly closer as his tip forced its way into your cervix.

“say it,” he growled, not daring to move as you wiggled against him, desperate for some type of friction.

“p-please,” you sobbed, grabbing his hands that held your legs as you scratched at them, needing him to move.

“i’m y-your little f-fuck toy.”

a dark grin took over the boys features as he hummed in approval, eyes falling to your cunt that was practically squeezing the life out of him.

he started to rock his hips into you slowly, a satisfied moan leaving your lips as your walls clung onto him tightly.

before you could process what was happening next, he dragged his cock almost completely out of you before slamming back in, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

“gonna make you cum so hard,” he panted, leaning down to burry his face into your neck and bite gently at the skin, “you wont be able to walk for days.”

your stomach formed into the all-too-familiar knot as your walls tighten around his cock, feeling every vein and detail that decorated it.

“cum.” was the last thing you heard before your vision went dark and your body shook, toes curling against the sheets as ethan released inside of you.

you don’t know how long you were out for, but when you woke up, ethan was dressed and cleaning you up.

your legs were parted as he ran a wet wash cloth over your pussy, causing you to jolt and let out a whimper.

“n-no more,” you whispered, ethan’s dark eyes softening as he was quick to assure you.

“just cleaning you up, darling.”

you let him finish before watching him grab a pair of clean boxers and a t shirt, both belonging to him.

he came over and helped you put the boxers on, your hips raising to help him slide them on easier before he did the same with the shirt.

you let out a sigh of approval at the smell of him that lingered on the shirt, feeling immediate comfort.

“i think the others will be here any second,” he said, running a hand over your face and through your hair as you leaned into his touch.

you allowed him to help you up, your legs immediately shaking and an uncomfortable pain running down them as you whimpered softly.

“did i go too hard?” he asked, no trace of teasing in his voice as he looked at you concerned.

this was the ethan you fell in love with, the nerdy—sweet boy that you sat next to in econ in the beginning of the year.

you quickly shook your head, offering him a small smile as you assured him.

“all good,” you smiled, letting him wrap an arm around your waist and walk you out of his room.

your eyes practically fell out of your head when they landed on the group—chad, sam, tara, and quinn all scattered around the living room.

“don’t tell me-” you mumbled, cut off by tara who couldn’t help but laugh as she spoke.

“yep.”

your face flushed red as you buried it in ethan’s chest, too embarrassed to face the group at knowing they had heard you two.

although you couldn’t see, you knew ethan was wearing a shit eating grin—no embarrassment found on his features.

“trust me, it wasn’t all sunshine and butterflies for us either,” chad mumbled, the group laughing before he joked—

“we thought ghostface had got to you.”

[pitchsidestories]

stay strong like a lioness II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Lioness!Reader

masterlist I word count: 1854

a/n: Hi, it's based off this request here, we hope it lives up to your expectations !

It suddenly felt hard to breathe, you fell to your knees on the pitch side, the whole England team was devasted, while the Spain team was celebrating the world cup win in front of your eyes.  The tears of disappointment and sadness you were holding back made your vision turn blurry.

In addition to that a lot of your Barcelona teammates were ecstatic by their glorious achievement which made it even harder for you to accept the loss.

An inner voice was screaming at you, you lost, you looser, you were bad, simply not good enough, not worthy to represent your country on the world’s stage !  The hateful monologue was interrupted by a familiar voice and a hand which was encouragingly placed on your shoulder.

“Good game, y/n.”, Mariona who was under the winners of the night congratulated you.

“No, it wasn’t, Mario.”, you shook your head frantically.

“Hey, you fought hard. It was a close game.”, she countered softly.

“If you excuse me now.”, you announced, shaking of her hand who was padding your back seconds earlier, as you prepared yourself to leave.

“Where are you going? I’m sure the others want to talk to you too.”, the midfielder questioned confused.

 “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like talking to anyone, really.”, you apologized in an honest tone.

“But-“, Alexia joined your conversation, looking alarmed at you. Her worry made your inner demons even louder in your head, you almost screamed at her, why do you care about me now? You just won the biggest title in football and I’m just a looser who will be just a footnote in the history books.

Instead, you chose some words which wouldn’t hurt your club’s captain feelings:” No, please, I just need some time alone.”

“Come on, y/n.”, Keira who lost just like you, opened her arms empathetically, but you refused to let her touch you.

“I’ll go to the dressing room.”, you declared sternly.

“We win and loose together, y/n.”, Lucy added, her eyes were red from crying too, the sadness she felt was written all over her face, she was an open book to anyone who would catch sight of the defender.

But you did notice that a hand steadied her posture. It belonged to Ona who smiled at the older woman. Much to your surprise she returned the smile, an unhappy one, but it counted, nonetheless.

“I don’t want to talk.”, you stated stubbornly. The loving words of your teammates who were also your friends didn’t reach over the wall you built around yourself since the final whistle.

“But when you want to, we’re here for you.”, Keira offered.

“Sure.”, you nodded absent minded.

“Girls, I think we should let her alone now.”, Ona muttered biting her lip disheartened by your reaction.

“She’ll get over it soon.“, Lucy agreed calmly while she watched you leave.

What you did not know while you locked yourself into your hotel room as soon as the team was back at their base camp, was that your girlfriends where sitting at home in Barcelona worrying about you.

“Mapi, she’s not answering our messages or calls!“, Ingrid complained and slammed her phone on the kitchen table in frustration. Her team was already sent home after the Round of 16, so she and Mapi had supported your journey to the world cup final from home.

Mapi frowned: “Still not?“

“No…“

There was silence at the kitchen table for a moment until the Spanish defender cursed: “Shit!“

“Maybe I could call Lucy.“, Ingrid suggested, nervously tapping her fingers on the table.

Mapi shrugged: “It’s worth a try.“

While she waited for Lucy to take the call, Ingrid put her phone on speaker. The English defender sounded tired when she finally answered.

“Lucy, could you please look after y/n? She doesn’t respond to us since the loss…“, the Norwegian got straight to the point, trying to keep the urgency out of her voice.

“She’s pulled away from everyone. She doesn’t want to talk.“, Lucy explained.

Mapi joined the conversation. Nervously she asked: “Not even to you or Keira?“

“No, she’s locking everybody out.“

Your two girlfriends shared a concerned look.

With all the hopefulness she could manage, Ingrid suggested: “Maybe after a good night’s sleep, it will be better…?“

“Maybe.“, Lucys voice agreed but sounded less than convinced.

“Fingers crossed. Thanks, Lucy. See you soon, champ.“ Mapi ended the phone call, still not much calmer than before.

But your girlfriends had no other chance than to wait until you arrived home from Australia just a day later. They really tried their best to make you feel better about returning home without the trophy. There was even a cake on the table but all you wanted to do was lay in bed until you felt less empty.

“She’s home. Hello, my love!“, Ingrid smiled brightly.

Before she and Mapi could come over to embrace you, you had already shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes. You silently waved at them before disappearing into your room.

Mapi looked at the suitcase that you left standing in the middle of the floor: “Still?“

“Mapi, that’s not normal.“, Ingrid voiced her concern.

“What should we do?“

“I don’t know…“

The two of them stared at the locked door for a moment before Mapi suggested: “We should make some dinner. She must be hungry after that long flight.“

Ingrid gave a short nod: “That’s a good idea, we’ll cook her favourite meal.“

“Yes, come on.”, the Spaniard got up from the stylish sofa they have been sitting on, while offering the Norwegian her hand, as she followed her to the kitchen to start cooking.

It didn’t take them long to cook the dinner you loved most, the delicious scent of it quickly filled the whole appartement, but smelling this only caused your stomach to turn.   

“Y/n, we made dinner for you.”, Ingrid told you in an uplifting tone, knocking softly at the closed door.

“Not hungry.”, you shot back. Immediately you regretted the harshness in your voice. After all it wasn’t your girlfriend’s fault that you’ve lost the final. It was yours alone.

“You need to eat something though!”, Mapi protested, she sounded almost mad at you for not accepting your favourite food.

“Later maybe.”, you replied quietly. It was so soft that your girlfriends were almost unable to understand what you’ve been saying.

“Okay.”, the defender sighed, clearly frustrated that they couldn’t get through to you.

The mist of sadness surrounded you and didn’t pass, even when the training with the Barcelona girls started it clung on to you like a second skin.

While you were pushing yourself extra hard in the gym Lucy’s green eyes noticed it with growing concern until she had enough and yelled at you:” Y/n, stop it!”

“What?”, you blurted out, still heavily breathing from the exercise you’ve just done.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”, Mapi added, the defender has been doing her training along side the English player.

“You all don’t get it!”, you countered angrily. The mist has been lifted in your mind, instead there was a thunderstorm of emotions rolling through your whole body.

“Yes, we get it! We’re all players just like you. We all want to be our best.”, Lucy disagreed furiously. The pain of the loss was fresh for her too, but she knew that new challenges were laying ahead of her, with potential wins as a reward to lessen the hurt.

“Exactly, and you can’t shut everyone out, because you lost one game.”, Ingrid tuned in, her facial expression saddened as she glanced at you. The Norwegian felt helpless against the state you were in. Nothing seemed to lift your mood and made you return to your usual cheerful self; the one, she fell in love with.

“It wasn’t just any game.”, you replied through gritted teeth.

“You were in a World Cup Final. Other players don’t even make it that far.”, Mapi reminded you.

“Right, this was a big achievement.”, Ingrid continued, beaming proudly.

You looked from one of your girlfriends to the other. Everything they said felt like pure pity, it made your blood boil.

“No, it was a failure… My dad said I had to be strong and I wasn’t strong enough!“, you exploded.

There was silence in the gym, your teammates stared at you.

Mapi took a step towards you.

“You’ve been very strong.“, she assured you.

You sniffed once, fighting the upcoming tears: “But not like a lioness should be… I let everyone down.“

“We all lost the stupid game.“, Lucy replied.

Keira nodded confidently, gesticulating to herself and your other teammates: “Yes, and we’ll win a lot this season together.“

“Oh yes.“, Mapi agreed.

“Now heads up, little one. There will be another World Cup final coming for you.“, Lucy winked at you.

“And you’ll be in it, no doubt.“, Ingrid added, her gaze soft.

You could feel your breathing slow down as you stood there and listened.

Keira quietly continued: “Plus, it might sound weird coming from me but it does help to talk to someone professional about it because…“

“Because you don’t need to be strong all the time, mi amor.“, Mapi finished for the midfielder, bridging the distance between the two of you and taking your hands into hers.

“Kei’s got a point.“, Lucy said before quickly following up with: “That excludes me though.“

This caused Ona to raise her eyebrows at her girlfriend: “Lies. You cried about it on the first night of our vacation.“

“Shut up, Ona!“, the English defender shot back quickly but with a laugh.

You paused, looking at her. Lucy was without doubt the toughest person you had ever met. “Wait, you cried?“

Instead of her Ona answered, shooting Lucy teasing look: “Oh yes, like a little baby.“

“I didn’t cry. Especially not like a baby!“, she protested.

For the first time since the World Cup, you could feel a smile appear on your face: “I believe Ona.“

Returning your smile, Lucy shook her head: “Of course such blatant lies cheer you up.“

“They do.“

The sadness still weighed heavy on your chest but you felt like a dark veil had been lifted. The conversation with your teammates earlier had helped and you were ready to finally let people in again.

Exhausted from your gym session, you laid in bed with your girlfriends, one on either side of you.

“Can you two just hold me until it doesn’t hurt as much anymore?“, you asked quietly, your gaze directed towards the ceiling.

Your sweet girlfriends immediately wrapped you up into their arms, keeping you safe in their middle.

“Sure, as long as you need us to.“, Ingrid whispered while Mapi pressed gentle kisses onto your temple.

You were so grateful for your teammates and your two girlfriends. Right there, between them, the voices in your head seemed to quiet down and you fell asleep almost feeling at peace.

Maybe you failed at winning the most important game of your life so far but you would always be more than just good enough for Mapi and Ingrid.

[brackishkittie]

ex-factor, abby anderson

— toxic!abby anderson x black!reader

synopsis: toxic abby headcanons because I’m having a really bad abby brainrot rn. 😵‍💫😵‍💫 ( I’ll probably make a full fic abt this later. )

c/n: very very nasty hate(?) sex, choking, slapping, strap riding, degradation, overstimulation, mirror sex, abby cussin you out, hair pulling, clit slapping. ( it’s alot I know..) she’s horrible tbh.

a/n: THIS SHIT TOOK SO FUCKING LONGGGG. I’ve been working on this shit for like maybe 6 months because I’ve been putting it off for so long but it was worth it…😞🙏🏾 (edit:) this was supposed to come out in 2023. ( INCONSISTENT ASS !!! )

daily click | ways to help palestine | important tlou post

idea inspo: @beetlejuice-e ofc I gotta give my creds n inspo!! pls check out niyah’s works especially her toxic abby series!!

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who will surely text yo ass off a burner account on insta and if you don’t answer that? girl no caller id will definitely be callin you and cussin you out.

“who the fuck do you think you’re blocking?” her voice rings out on the other side of the screen. “abigail don’t play on my phone please..” you sigh loudly due to how sick of her bullshit you were. “oh I’m playin on it. unblock me.” she replies swiftly. “girl you not about to irritate me on MY phone. bye.” and you hang up. abby won’t back down though. she’ll be RELENTLESSSSS over that unblock. she’ll even post ts on her story talkin bout “unblock me.” ( obviously you’ll unblock her..but she annoyin asl!! )

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who’ll be mad at you for posting you and your friend together. even if she has met said friend or knows them in general. she don’t gaf. she’ll slide up on the story with a “who’s that?” and you be like “that’s so and so” and then here go abby ass.. “why she so fucking close?? tell her move a bit.”

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who comes to your house mad as hell because you didn’t pickup the phone after you two got into an argument. she’ll bang on your door and she won’t go away until you let her in. when you do let her in though, she’s cussing you out and you two get back to arguing. she’s all in your face and yelling at you for not answering and acting “bitchy”. you manage to push her away from you and walk into your room, but all she does is follow you into your room while still angrily screaming at you. “where the fuck are you going?” abby is absolutely livid and staring you down. “I’m trying to get away from you, abigail.” you respond with an obvious hint of annoyance. abby who doesn’t say a word and pushes you onto the wall, leaving barely any space between you two. “who the fuck are you talking to, y/n?.”

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who loves it everytime you get surprised when she takes the initiative of grabbing you by your face and pushing her tongue deep into your mouth. her hands groping and smacking your ass. abby throws you onto the bed, already taking off her black t-shirt and signaling for you to take off your clothes. you knew the drill. it was a never ending cycle and you fell for it everytime. abby lifts your legs onto her shoulders and smiles as soon as her eyes fell onto your pretty pussy. “fucking slut. I barely did anything yet.” she said as you felt her fingers brush your clit. “I want you to keep your eyes on me. if you look away, you won’t be able to cum.” you nod and watch her slip two fingers into your wet cunt, watching her tongue putting in work. she sloppily eats you out like she’s been dreaming of it.

you shut your eyes and abby almost instantly slapped your clit, making your eyes fly open. “I said to keep your fucking eyes on me..” her nails dug deeper into your soft skin, she’s eating you out with such aggression and knowing that turned you on even more. you gripped her hair and bucked your hips. you felt yourself reaching your high and your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell open. “holy shittttt!— abby please..” you continued watching her tongue work in and out of you, her thumb rubbing at your sensitive clit, and her eyes shooting up at you making sure you were watching her like she told you to. you thought maybe she was just gonna go easy on you tonight because it was a small fight, right? “face down. ass up.” she said as she glared at you.

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who loves seeing you take her strap, her eyes almost glued to the mirror as your ass bounced off her. abby fucking the anger out of you so well that you nearly forgot why you were so mad at her. abby taps your face lightly when she sees you basically go blank for a second. “don’t pass out on me now baby. you had all that fuckin mouth for me earlier.” she stuffs two fingers into your mouth and you finally find the energy to let out some form of words. “too fucking muchhh! fuck..!” your mouth agape when you feel abby fucking into you deeper. “so fuckin nasty..” she grins and reaches for your hair, pulling and tugging at it while picking up her pace as she drilled the strap into you. you were too fucked out to even speak at this point. your head was spinning, your thoughts were scrambled, and your heart was racing. abby pulled her fingers out of your mouth and looked at you in the mirror, “look at me in the mirror, pretty. are you ready to apologize?” abby tilted her head. she knew everything was her fault but for her to apologize for it? hell no. “fuck you abigail.” you responded quickly as she miserably pounded into you. her grin was completely wiped off her face in an instant once you said that.

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who found amusement in you riding her strap. your body clearly tired and about to give out but all she does is plant kisses on your tits and grope them, sucking and licking your tender nipples. “abby please..I’m sorry! no more! I can’t- take it.” you’re losing it at this point. you’ve reached a new point of ‘fucked out’ and abby was gonna use that shit to her advantage. “say it again.” abby stared at you intently — she knew exactly how to make you forget about everything and that was through the movement of her hips. “I love you a lot baby, you gotta stop making me mad..” she purred at you with a subtle smirk on her face. “oh my god.” you pant out, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling yourself closer to her. you place your chin onto her shoulder and continue to roll your hips, bouncing on her strap needily. you can sense yourself reaching your high once again as you dug your nails into her skin. she snakes her hand around your waist and whispers to you softly, “deep breaths baby, let it out. cmon.” abby coos as she talks you through through your orgasm, rubbing your back ever so gently.

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby whose way of aftercare was to clean you two up, cuddle you, and maybe..subtly gaslight you into believing that you’re the reason she acts the way that she does. she’s treating you as if you were delicate almost like a small bubble. abby knew that you being devoid of energy, her being so gentle with you, and talking to you with the most smoothest and kindest voice she could put on, you would fall for it. you had your head on her chest, basking in her scent and letting her delude your thoughts like it was nothing. abby knew it was wrong. did she feel bad? in another universe maybe. she just wanted you to herself. “you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, right? I love you so much baby.” she said to you sweetly. all you could to is hum in response while you smiled at the affection that she was showing you. to you and abby, this was just another friday..but to your friends…that’s its own story for another day.

tags: none cs I’m js clearing drafts out. 🧘🏾 🎀

[actiniumwrites]

BLURRED LINES

synopsis: the defining moment that changed the course of your relationship with them from being enemies to that of lovers

characters: kaeya, yelan, scaramouche, ayato, cyno, dottore, and alhaitham x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, injuries, blood, fighting, harassment (not from any of them), not proofread

notes: idk man i just wanted to write some enemies to lovers scenarios. each of these get longer as they go, so uh, sorry if you wanted some of the first ones to be longer cause i don’t really know what happened 😭 enjoy <3

Kaeya watched how you laughed so loudly, so confidently at him as you fought somewhere behind him. It was as loud and recognizable as usual. He felt his heart beat faster — flushed, annoyed, and fed up with your constant need to one up him, laugh at him for no reason, and point out each and every small mistake he makes. As the Cavalry Captain racked his brain for a comeback, anything to take you off your high horse, his ears began to hurt as your laughter faded into that of dreadful screams. Blue eyes caught yours in an instant, turned so fast that his body almost gave him whiplash. No. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not when he hadn’t realized his hatred for you was nothing more than a guise for his buried love.

Yelan’s faint laughs scared the people on the harbor. Such an intimidating women, softly — yet arrogantly — laughing to herself was certainly an odd sight to see. She had bested you once again, and you hadn’t even known it yet. And Archons she couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you realized it. Her laughter quickly subsided at the faint sounds of desperation and begging, coming from somewhere within a nearby alleyway. Nearly walking past it out of the need to be in other places, Yelan stopped in her trail when the whimpering cries turned into your voice. Fury festered throughout her body in an instant. Nobody was allowed to mess with you, not unless it was her. Maybe she hadn’t realized it yet, but she would do anything to protect you — even if it meant giving her life.

When Scaramouche fell limp out of the robot, falling from great heights as he plummeted to the ground, he held no beliefs he would be caught — no less by the hands of you, his sworn enemy. Yet, there you were, arms wrapped tightly around him as the traveler and Paimon stared at you in shock. Something about the way your heart felt the moment you saw him fall was deeply painful, like weeds growing around your heart. Though, the strong heat from your love was enough to burn those weeds, enough to propel yourself forward without thought and save the man you had unknowingly come to love. And as Nahida watched the scene play out in front of her, a knowing smile crossed her face.

Ayato loved nothing more than to argue and debate with you. It came as a package deal alongside the fact that you were from the Tenryou Commission and he was from the Yashiro commission. Because god you were so smart and always had the perfect comebacks, even though it was infuriating when you would win. What he didn’t like, however, was when he would watch you argue with someone else. Especially when you lost to them. Ironic, right? He hated watching his enemy lose? So when his eyes spotted you around the corner of Ritou, backed up against a wall as a rude man berated you, his eyes filled with fury and his heart was racing. No one was allowed to treat you like that. So he took care of them for you, even though he knew you were fully capable. And as you stormed away from him, he was left with a single question: if you were supposed to be his enemy, then why the hell did he care so much about you?

The moment Cyno saw you fall backwards, he scoffed. Honestly, when were you actually going to beat him while sparring? But then you didn’t get up. Cyno swore he felt his heart fall out of his chest. And oh archons, the moment he saw blood, the weapon fell out of his hand and his feet propelled him forward. His knees scraped against the rugged bricks of the floor as his arms wrapped themselves around your torso and hoisted it against him. But then your eyes opened and the laugh he always thought was so beautiful fell from your lips. Stopping when your eyes met his serious expression, you joked, “What? Don’t tell me you were actually worried about me?” Cyno’s eyes pierced through yours, a serious, yet genuine, expression painted across his face, “Don’t scare me like that, it’s not funny…I thought I lost you for a second.”

Dottore felt annoyed the moment he heard you knock on the door. So he ignored it, knowing only you would be stupid enough to get hurt and go to him at such late hours of the night. You could’ve seen another doctor, but he knew you loved to annoy him more than anything else. But then the knocks came again, weaker and more fragile this time. Sighing, he opened his door, only to find you. Your eyes were kept on the floor, but he could see the tears that pooled in them. Blood adorned most of your body, and your clothes were all tattered and torn. The arm that was holding you up against the door gave out and you collapsed, but not before Dottore caught you in his arms. You were mumbling, shaking, and absolutely terrified as you leaned against him. And yet, for some reason, Dottore couldn’t help but feel a small feeling of warmth spreading in his cold heart at the thought of you coming to him when you were most vulnerable. Though, it wasn’t enough to stop the anger he felt for the person that hurt you.

Alhaitham sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that day as he spotted you in the library late at night. Shouldn’t you have already gone home? Or were you just trying to get ahead him again? Perhaps aiming to steal his position at the Akademiya this time? He never knew with you, but at least the competition kept things a little more entertaining each day. So, he made another sarcastic comment toward you on his way out. He couldn’t see your face from the way you were sitting, but your silence stopped him in his tracks. No rebuttal? No comeback? Not even an annoyed sigh? And then your shoulders started to shake, and small whimpers fell from your lips. Shit. Alhaitham didn’t know what to do in situations like this. But even so, he stopped and walked toward you. Sat down next to you and stayed quiet, only offering a few tissues and some water he had on him — which you hesitantly, but gratefully took. Maybe you were his “enemy” and maybe he didn’t know how to deal with people crying, but for some reason it felt natural with you and he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave you alone.

[imaginesbymonika]

LOML- loss of my life | Prologue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Plot: You knew him at a time when he didn't, and now he is looking for you...

Warnings: depiction of violence, angst, mentions of (perhaps) death, angst, fluff at the end (maybe), takes place after TFATWS

Bucky didn't like to think back to the years when he was working for Hydra. No matter how many times people named him a victim, an instrument - it didn't change the fact that he was operating for them. Going on those missions- slaughtering hundreds of people. Innocent fucking civilians. He couldn't possibly look past that. His therapist informed him that this kind of mindset is what's keeping him from fully recovering.

Maybe she was right about that.

Perhaps that was the root of his never-ending nightmares. The ones where he can still smell the blood whenever he wakes up in a cold sweat. Where he stares down at his hands, and for a split second he can catch a glimpse of their blood. Or maybe it is his blood. He lost track of that a long time ago.

A couple of months ago he had read a psychology book where someone argued that memories are primarily silent. And he couldn’t have thrown that book any faster against the closest wall. Because fuck whoever wrote that piece of crap. He’d be happy if for once he couldn’t hear the screaming of his victims, their begging and crying…followed by his metal arm making this eerie sound whenever it crushed someone’s spine into little pieces.

Bucky takes a deep breath. God, how he yearned and wished for silence. But then again, God has abandoned him a while ago.

His dreams only consist of flashbacks. Please, I have children waiting for me at home! Stop, stop, that hurts! Your work is fundamental for mankind! Oh my god, please stop! Make this stop, please! My oldest is 7! Please, don’t forget that you’re still human underneath it all. Bucky’s eyes open and when he sits up he can not stop gasping for air. Please, don’t forget you’re still human underneath it all.

He inspects his worn out features in the mirror. When had he started to dream of her? When did she manage to tiptoe her way into this hellfire of memories? What was her name again?

You slightly flinched when Pierce's hand made contact with The Winter Soldier’s cheek. The sound echoed through the empty corridors of the facility. And her gaze quickly drops to her clipboard. Everybody around her was silent, staring at either the long-haired man or the one in the suit. Pierce looked beyond furious before his eyes fell on you and he cleared his throat:” What are you writing down.”

Fuck. You took a deep breath, and quickly improved your posture:” I am just documenting the bruising, Sir.” The older man hummed and furrowed his eyebrows:” Let me see.” Out of nowhere, he snatched the clipboard out of your hands. You slightly groan at the burning sensation the plastic left on your skin. The entire time, you were able to feel The Winter Soldier's eyes on you. How you loathed this job. But you needed to remind yourself that you didn’t have much of a choice, whether or not you wanted to be there. For almost three years, you were one of the top physicians at NYC’s best hospital. Then one evening, while you were walking back to your car, you got kidnapped. You-

“Bucky?”, Sam’s voice brings him back into the present: “Are you still with me?” There is a playfulness to his voice. One that quickly disappears, once Sam notices the look on his friend’s face. And for a few seconds, the two men just look at one another, before Bucky shakes his head:” Yeah no. I’m fine.”

“You’re gone a lot these days.”

Bucky tilts his head and blinks in perplexity:” What’s that supposed to mean? We have been working on this case together since last week, we-.”

“Mentally, Bucky.”, Sam cuts him off and brings his cup of coffee up to his lips. And he can detect an emotion in Bucky’s eyes that tells him he struck a nerve. There is a heavy silence filling the kitchen before Sam speaks up again, his voice gentle and understanding:” Where are you going?”

[tojisun]

you're breaking my heart with him who we love and i absolutely adore it!!!! (っ◔︣◡◔᷅)っ ❤

may i ask what johnny (and maybe even simon?) would do if reader - after feeling left out for so long - finally decided to move on and/or find someone else? maybe she gravitated towards kyle and/or john bc they’re sweet and gentle with her and her affection is finally being reciprocated?

and please feel free to ignore this if it doesn't interest you. no pressure at all!

ohn my god no bc im so so glad so many of u are brainrotting w me again about 'him who we love' <33 i could not stop thinking about it on our way home yesterday

!! vague descriptions of an injury and an attack; mentioned callsign for reader but its not important!!; and its so so rambly so do forgive me ): // divider by @/plutism <3

id love to see this happen after that mission mishap with simon and the reader. it takes an explosion; an acrid burn peeling his flesh from his back and you sewing him together with such vitriolic desperation that ghost almost, almost, felt bad for the way he’s treated you; and an apology murmured from the softest lips he’s never really noticed for simon to—

feel his chest twinge.

the denial sits on the tip of his tongue, razor-sharp and blisteringly sour. it waxes, and simon heaves from something more than the pain burrowing deep into his being. he trembles from something that isn’t the agony he feels for returning to johnny as more of a ruined man who is unable to bury the fear of anything that is set ablazed.

(he remembered the day when he finally came to, groggy eyes peeling open before snagging a fracture of liquid orange—fire, his mind screamed, pulsing because: i’m not gonna be able to come back—and lurching out of the bed only for his body to collapse, and he fell with a choked yell, pain blooming from all of his synapses almost like a beast coiled deep into the fabrics of his very existence.

you ran into the room, yelling his name, and something about the way your voice was so raw with worry and anguish, simon was able to calm down. almost like a part of him realized he was safe now, with you; like it knew that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him, not then and not ever.

while you helped him back on the bed, he turned his head to try and see what it was that set him off—

simon’s breath hitched, his eyes straining as a lump lodged itself into his throat because it was—

the fire was—

it wasn’t fire.

there, bouncing off a glass vase, were serpentine rays of the afternoon sun rippling across the walls and bathing him in warm light.

“is there, uh, something you need?” you asked, trying not to hover but unable to truly leave him be.

simon swallowed, running his tongue on the back of his teeth, before murmuring, “shut the curtains.”

you turned to the windows, your brows furrowed, and simon clenched his teeth, bulldozing through the shame curling in the pit of his stomach and added, “please.”

you did what he asked without prodding, and simon swallowed down the rawness of his vulnerability, watching you with something pretty fluttering in his chest but he tried to stomp it down because—

he despises you, remember? so why…)

but the feeling bloats and simon spends the rest of the exfil in silence, watching you—he’s always been watching—but this time it’s without malice. instead, it’s with bubbling interest, pushing at the back of his mind, and rising ever so slightly like a tide.

he thinks of johnny, of the way mactavish had danced around the idea of something more with the three of you, and finds that he’s not too opposed to it anymore. instead, he looks forward to the change.

-

no sooner after the bird touches down on the base, price pulls you into his office. simon’s been wheeled into the sick bay and was stranded there, doctor’s orders, so he only learns about what happened later into the night when mactavish finds him, sorrow so heavily etched on his face.

“tavish?” he asks, ignoring the way his voice comes out as a croak. “what happened?”

“hyde’s gone,” johnny says, slumping into the seat beside simon’s bed and burrowing his head into his palms. “they apparently requested to be assigned somewhere else. cap’n won’t say where.”

“when?” he asks although simon can’t even feel himself move, his mind trying to reconcile the events that happened because there’s no way this occurred in the fly; not when, he remembers, you looked so resolute on the way back like you knew what was going to happen the moment you two returned.

like you had planned this for a while now—

“when’d they ask?”

johnny shifts, meeting his eyes, and simon’s heart crumbles at seeing the weight of johnny’s anguish painted on his face. he sniffles, and rasps out, “probably two months ago, s’what garrick said.”

two months ago—the same night when you managed to find a way to contact the base. the same night when simon’s realized what it must be that he feels for you.

(the same night when you’ve shyly asked him what about mactavish did he like.

“the six inches that you so intimately know,” he replied, cheeky and teasing.

you rolled your eyes, groaning at how disgusting he was, and he piped back how he’s a patient and has all rights to be as gross as he could.

you laughed, chucking a balled paper towel at him and simon remembers the way you looked so…at peace bantering with him that he couldn’t even fathom you were thinking of leaving.

what changed for you? what was it? why couldn’t you have waited—

why didn’t he realize sooner—

whywhywhy?)

notes: tbh i dont think hyde would gravitate towards price n gaz bc their affections for ghoap, particularly for ghost, was so intense. also, even before this ask ive always planned for hyde to leave. their feelings could potentially risk the team morale, which price even talked to them about in the prev works (mentioned in passing)!

[pit-and-the-pen]

You Found Me

Summary:A mission gone wrong. Can Azriel get to you in time to save you? 

Warnings: Wing cutting, gore, descriptions of pain, near character death, angsty angst, one singular use of y/n 

Disclaimer: This is a dark one so please use caution when reading and please let me know if there is any warning I need to add.

WC: ~3k

Walking into that house, you instantly knew something was wrong. Every part of your body was screaming at you to turn around and leave, calling for one of the male to come and help you. But that small prideful part of you, remembering that small joke that Cassian made the other day, you’d be lost without us sweetheart, kept you from doing exactly that. Needing to prove that you didn't always need the Illyrian soldiers to come clean up your messes. 

So you pushed down that little voice in your head and gripped your sword a little tighter, wings flaring out behind you at the unease in your stomach. Taking a step past the doorway, you held your breath, ears scanning the room for any sound other than your racing heart. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, attempting to calm yourself down. It didn’t work in the slightest. 

Your hands were trembling on the grip you had on the hilt of your sword and you mentally cursed yourself. Get it together. All you had to do was look for some notebook Azriel had gained some information about. Just a notebook and you could leave. 

Taking one more step, you almost missed it. The soft click of a trap locking into place. Your breathing all but stopped, eyes flickering around the room trying to glean any information about what just happened. Nothing. Listening even harder you could vaguely hear the sound of someone else’s breathing and that was enough to send a jolt of fear through you. You were truly trapped. Thinking only a second longer than necessary, you moved your foot off the loose floorboard. Deciding that the trap would be better than whoever else you heard in the room. 

The dart that shot out from the wall across from you was easy enough to dodge but the net that swept you off your feet took you by complete surprise. Your sword had slipped from your hand in your shock and you started to struggle against the rope cage. Something sharp dug into your arm and you cried out. The room instantly seemed to tilt on its head as your eyes fell shut. 

Your head was pounding when your eyes finally opened. Shooting up as the events from before caught up with you again. 

When your eyes finally opened again, you were unsure of how much time had passed. Only aware of the sting in your shoulders from where they were pinned above your head. Willing your eyes to focus you made out two figures standing in front of you. 

“Well good morning.” The shorter female said to you. “Thought I’d heard someone sniffing around. Didn’t think it would be anyone other than those two bastards.” She chuckled and you tried to pull against the chains. The pain that shot through you only made you cry out again. 

“I think we better let them know what happens when they poke their noses in other courts' business.” 

You didn’t have a chance to feel relief from being let out of those chains. You were pushed onto a blood splattered table. The female coming up behind you. She pulled the long blade from her side and waved it in front of your face. 

“Such a shame.” She muttered mostly to herself. You went to leap at her before two strong sets of hands pinned you back down. The cold metal trailed over your shoulders and sheer terror ripped through you. 

It was agony. The blade is far too dull to be making contact with anything let alone your delicate wings. You were thrashing around, the hands of your captors barely able to pin you down. Screams were flowing freely from your mouth, tangling with curses. Blood was caked under your nails, both yours and from the few good swipes you have managed to get in as their grip tightened on you. You tried to block out the pain, tried to ignore the way your entire body was drowning in it. Breathing hurts. The sickening thud against the floor told you all you needed to know. Your wings were gone. Your screams continued as the pain still coursed through every nerve. The blood would not stop. That slightly herbal smell in the air told you what was on those blades, faebane. A new wave of panic coursed through you. With the faebane you wouldn’t heal. You would bleed out before it wore off. You were going to bleed out in the middle of this gods damned house and no one would know until it was too late. 

Calm down. Think. You tried to tell yourself but as your vision started to darken around the edges you couldn’t stop the panic that was threatening to take you under. 

So you did the only thing you could think of. You stopped thrashing. Stopped screaming. Tucked that pain into a little part of you to make it seem like you had passed out. It wasn’t far off from how you felt. The pain threatened to pull you under. But you willed yourself to Stay awake even as you close your eyes. Rhys would have been able to tell something was off. 

Your captors said something you couldn’t quite fully make out but the slamming of a door mixed with their sickening laughter fading let you know they were no longer in the house. Forcing your eyes back open, you gathered the strength to reach a hand to your mangled back. Shaky hand reaching to inspect the full scope of damage. The damage that the faesbane was preventing from healing. When you pulled your hand away from your back you knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. They came away sticky and red and you had to force your vision to stop swirling. 

The house was eerily quiet. Until a flurry of grunts and cries reached your ears. You knew that voice. Azriel. At least you could see him one last time. It might even be worth it just to see his face before it all faded away. 

“y/n” He all but screamed into the room. You let out a meek response and you heard his unusually heavy footsteps freeze. A cry was pulled from his lips and you forced your eyes to focus on him.

“I knew you would find me” Your eyes were so heavy. 

“No. Stay awake,” You could barely register the sob that broke through his body. “You have to stay awake for me sweet girl.”

You tried your best but you could feel your eyelids screaming in protest. Begging you to just go to sleep. His shadows were wrapping around you, trying to keep pressure on your wounds. 

“Rhys and Cassian are going to be here any second now. You have to be awake when they get here.” Not good enough. You could almost hear the gears in his brain as he searched for the next thing to say. 

“I remember the first time I ever saw you.” His voice so much closer now, close enough that he took your hand in his. The pressure makes your eyes widen a little bit. He swam in and out of your vision, black spots beginning to take over. 

“You had just gotten into a fight. I didn’t see what started it, just came running when Rhys told me he saw it happening.” You blinked unfocused up at him. Trying your  best to remember. “We were all ready to jump in and protect you but you had the assholes on the ground by the time we all got there.” He laughed. The sound warming your body, when had it gotten so cold? “You managed to put three full grown Illyrian soldiers on their ass in a matter of minutes. Managed to smile at us as we showed up.” He paused 

“Wanna be next?” You rasped out. You could make out his smile through the haze. 

“The first thing you ever said to me was you seeing if you should kick our asses too. You weren’t scared of us, you weren’t, aren’t, scared of anything.” 

“That’s not true.” It was a fight to get the words out. Your voice sounded far away. “Azriel, I have to tell you something.” 

“No.” He all but growled. “You’ll tell me when we get back home.” 

You used the little bit of strength you had left to raise your arm to his face. He didn’t flinch at the blood left there. “I love you. I’ve loved you for years now.” There. You had finally said it. Your eyes had gotten too heavy to keep them open any longer. 

“Please. Just a little longer, sweetheart.” You couldn’t honor the request. Couldn’t fight the screaming muscles as your eyes flickered closed. Everything faded away as you drifted off to sleep. 

It felt like flying. Soaring high above everyone and everything. The pain that had been running through your body didn’t stop the moment my eyes closed, but even a little bit of reprieve was better than nothing. You would have let out a sigh of relief if you could have, but it didn’t seem like you had any control over your lungs at the moment. It was too confusing to try to figure out exactly why. 

Closing your eyes, you could almost feel a thread slipping over you. It was warm and letting go of it seemed so wrong. Your mind tried to grab onto it, hold it tighter but it was no use. Like trying to catch a bar of soap in the shower. Slipping out of your mind the harder you held on. It faded away and the screaming building in my throat got stuck as the last bit of feeling slipped away into nothingness. 

✦✦✦

The next moments were some of the worst of his life. Azriel watched your eyes flicker shut. Screaming at Rhys to hurry up. Begging the gods, anyone that would listen, to keep your heart beating. A heart he still heard the faint rhythm of. That was the hope he had to cling to. Not the ribbons carved out of your back. Not the way you felt so much lighter in his hold. No he could only focus on the fact that you were still alive in his arms. 

So he counted each heartbeat. The words echoing around his head. I love you. He hadn't even gotten the chance to say it back. He would scream it from the highest mountain if it would keep you here with him. Almost there. Rhys’ voice rang through his head. She doesn’t have a lot of time. Please. Azriel sent the scene in front of him and he heard the frantic buzz in Rhys’ mind, speeding up to get to her. Azriel was already tearing through the house to get you to where he could winnow but the damned wards were surrounding the house farther than he could get you to and he was afraid to fly with you in your current condition. He would need Rhys here to break the wards. 

Azriel was too caught up in his thoughts to see the minor wounds on you starting to heal. Fading to nothing but pink marks. The larger ones were finally starting to clot. But he was too caught up in the flood of grief that was circling him, he could have drowned in it but he had to hold out. He had to hope that she was coming back. Azriel didn’t think he would survive her being gone. 

The commotion outside let him know his brothers had finally arrived. He almost let out a sigh of relief. Almost. If it didn’t feel like his heart was outside of his body right now. Still listening to the faint sound in your chest. Still beating. It was the only thing holding him back from losing it completely. 

Rhys and Cassian caught up with him and he fought the urge to bite Rhys’ head off as he slipped your unconscious form into his arms. He couldn’t help but wince at the way you looked so frail covered in your own blood. He had never seen either of his brothers so pale before. He thanked whatever gods that he hadn't already cursed when Rhys was finally able to winnow you all back to Velaris. 

Madja had to all but throw him out of the room when she started to get to work. “I can’t heal anything with your shadows flying all over the place.” the old healer barked at him. He was about to argue back before he caught Rhys’ eyes, the small shake of his brother's head left him storming out of the room. He didn’t go further than the door frame. Unable to look away as  he watched Madja’s deft hands attempt to fix your back. He spent hours outside in the hallway. Practically wearing a path in the floorboards from his pacing. His wings were flared out beside him. He tried his hardest to reign them in. Their weight felt wrong against his back, the same way you had felt so wrong in his arms from your lack of wings. How he wishes he could have gotten to you sooner. How he wishes he could have spent more time carving up the monsters that did this to you. He doesn’t regret getting you out of there, the exact opposite. Madja had said that even a few minutes more and the blood loss would have been too great. His heart ached in a way he never imagined at the thought of what could have happened. 

Cassian finally walked out of the room. Shoulders hunched and wings dangerously close to sweeping across the ground. He looked as exhausted as Azriel felt. 

“You should go in. She’s not waking up anytime soon but you should be the first one she sees.” Was all Cassian said as he passed Azriel. He didn’t hesitate before he walked back into the room and the relief he felt at seeing you was instantaneous. Someone had thought to clean you up. The blood that covered your skin gone, the metallic scent being the only reminder it was even there in the first place. 

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

Your eyes shot open. A yelp left your lips and you shot up off the surface you were laying on. Warm hands wrapped around your arm and you tried to push them off. 

“I’m here. You’re safe. It’s just me.” Azriel’s voice soothed your rising panic. Safe. You let your surroundings sink in then. The soft mattress underneath you. The familiar feeling of your blankets against your skin. Your body relaxed slightly until your memories started flooding back to you. Instinctually, you went to flex your wings. Your whole body screams in protest and it really begins to dawn on you. 

“So it wasn’t a bad dream.” You sniffled, wanting nothing more than to disappear from those intense hazel eyes. Eyes that held nothing but pain and guilt as they looked at you. 

“I’m so sorry… we should have never let you go by yourself.” He tried to pull you against his chest and released you like you had burned him when you flinched at the contact. 

“I want to see.” He froze at your words. No further explanation was needed. A small rational part of your mind knows that you should focus on healing, focus on the fact that you had lived. But you needed to see with your own two eyes that your wings were no longer there. 

Azriel opened his mouth like he was going to protest but quickly shut it. Instead, he held out a hand for you to grab. You did so and rose on wobbly legs. 

He led you to the floor length mirror across the room. His hand not leaving yours as you took in your appearance. 

White hot shame filled your body. Your wings had been one of the biggest testaments to your strength. The fact that you could still fly as even a half-illyrian female was one of your biggest sources of pride. Proof that you had survived. Now, as you turned to get a better look at your back, you balked at the angry marks that took up over half of your back. The stitches still holding the angry looking skin together. The sob left your body before you could even stop it. Azriel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you upright. Legs refusing to hold you up anymore.

When Azriel turned to face you, you found yourself unable to look him in the eyes. Your own lingering on the floor. A gentle finger under your chin tipped your face up to meet his. 

“Talk to me, pretty girl? What’s going on in that head of yours.” You could only shake your head. Unable to find the words. Your brain is so distracted that you didn’t even fully process the name he just called you. 

“Do you want to go lay back down?” Nodding, he helped you walk over to your bed again. But this time he crawled in behind you. 

“Is this okay?” He asked before he got any closer. 

“Please don’t go.” Was all you could respond with. Not caring how desperate it might have made you sound.” 

“Of course not. I’ll stay right here until you tell me otherwise.” He sat right next to you and you let out a heavy sigh before you laid your head on his lap. 

“Why did you stay? I don’t see any of the others.” You questioned after a few minutes of silence. Your eyes were starting to get heavy again but you wanted to talk to him more. 

“We all decided that it should be me here when you woke up. Not like I left the room anyways.” He said softly. 

“Why?” Was the only thing you could think to say. 

“Because I love you too,” His hand had started to brush over your hair, fingers combing through the knots. “And you love me.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say to that. He continue on,

“You seemed so…so calm when I got to you” His voice was barely above a whisper now, my ears struggling to hear him. 

“Because I knew you would find me.” You said as you allowed yourself to drift into a peaceful sleep. 

[ellievickstar]

Maddening.

A/N: This one...this one hurt. yeah. uhm. Peace out ig find out for yourselves heheeheheh. hehehe, I'm not sorry. I got bored during math lesson.

Summary: Based on this idea I had. When the reader goes mad from what she is feeling from the bond while Azriel is unfaithful, how will everyone react when she is gone..?

Request: N/A

Pairing: Cheating!Azriel x reader, Brother!Rhysand x reader

Warnings: Unedited, angst, character death, a desk was thrown, Elain slander. kinda Azriel slander???? idk.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

It.

Was.

Maddening.

“Stop, stop it please,” You sobbed into the night, the shadows that were once something you loved swirling around you and tugging you in every direction. You knew. They knew. And right now you could feel his pleasure, his love for someone else, and you tried desperately to shut down your mind, to put up those walls of mental shields you had trained for years to do. But your daemati powers only amplified what was projected down this bond and it was maddening.

“PLEASE,” You yelled, your hand grasping at your hair as you pulled in frustration, your nausea rising in your throat as you felt his pleasure again. Again. Again.

RHYS.

Screaming into the night, reaching for that tether between your brother and Cassian and you.

CASS. RHYS. PLEASE.

One way or another you opened the drawer beside your bed and metal flashed against the moonlight.

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

You choked on your sobs, your anguish flooding out your mind in every direction, you shakily grasped the hilt of the dagger as you raised it and brought it down in one fell swoop.

Little Starlight…?

Your brother’s voice rang in your mind, but as you felt the mating bond tear, relieving you of that constant wave of nauseating pleasure, as the shadows around you surged in their frenzy, warmth coating your abdomen, your hands and you slowly glanced down at the blood trickling out of you.

With what was left of your strength you tugged the dagger out, and blood gushed free flowing.

I’m sorry…

Was all you whispered back to your brother, and all you heard last was the door behind you being flung open, and the frantic voices of your brother and Cassian.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“Why…why would you,” Rhysand shakily dropped back into his chair, his office torn apart after what had happened with his sister. Cassian’s dark expression hung on his face, his shoulders low and even Nesta did not dare say another word. Feyre hung behind Rhys, her eyes darting around the room, at how damaged everything was, the extent of her mate’s grief and anger, his sorrow.

Azriel stood beside Elain, and Feyre was almost sick to her stomach at how strong the smell of sex was permeating off both of them.

Rhys’s eyes were dead and hollow as he looked up at someone he once considered his brother.

“WHY? She was…she was..”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

When they were 15….

You hastily jumped in front of Cassian and Azriel, your wings coming to materialise as you flared them and yelled, “Stop hurting them!” The kids who had been making fun of Azriel’s hands stumbled backwards, realising who they stood before, the princess of the Night.

“Don’t listen to them, I think your hands are beautiful,” You smiled shyly at Azriel as they ran away, glaring at the kids one last time for good measure. Cassian let out a cheer, swinging you around as he celebrated your ‘amazing victory that brought them to tears’.

And as you glanced Azriel’s way, you could not help but blush at his gaze, your attention soon stolen by your brother who had arrived and lectured you on being more careful when showing your wings.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Starfall before the mountain…

“Rhys….?” You knocked on the door of your brother’s office gently.

“Come in little starlight,” You heard your brother’s voice.

Entering the room, you paused as Cassian and Azriel’s gaze fell upon you, now feeling heat rise to your face at the way you were dressed.

Morrigan had decided to force you into a dark blue gown, the swoop of the neckline leaving enough for the imagination but also something to marvel at. The sleeves were off the shoulder — something you had taken to recently and she had noticed — and the skirt was floor length with a slit that did everything for your bare legs.

You had wanted to come here to get a second opinion from Rhys about the dress and any matching heels.

“You look gorgeous Little Starlight,” Giving you a thumbs up, Rhys beckoned you to come in.

Maybe I don’t need your opinion.

Just ask.

Does this dress paired with black or blue heels make your best friend want to screw me?

Blinking, your brother hummed, Cassian burst into laughter, clearly getting the message from Rhys while Azriel just looked at his two brothers confused.

Black heels, with a choker, from what I’ve heard Azriel is not tame.

I didn’t say him.

You didn’t need to.

That night Azriel had caved and confessed to you, even going so far as to informing you that you were his mate, a mating ceremony was held a week later and you had never been happier. And for a moment you had grasped onto the thought that this could be forever.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Rhysand swallowed as he started to recall all his memories from the past, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed into his palm once more, his head hung low as he hunched over his desk.

“Rhysand I apologise for what I have caused…” Azriel tried but was immediately cut off by Cassian.

“You only apologise now because of what happened. Where was your guilt when she was alone in her pain after the war? Where was your guilt when you were picking flowers with Elain,” He spat her name like it was poison making her visibly flinch, “Where was your guilt when you decided that your mate was no longer worthy of your affection?”

Azriel’s gaze hardened, “I might have chosen to bed Elain but that does not mean-”

“THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT MEANS!” Cassian roared back, his shoulders were shaking, shaking, from how hard he started to cry.

Trying to calm the situation down, Elain stepped forward, "You can't say that just because they were mates it means he betrayed her by loving someone else."

Nesta scoffed at her own sister's words.

"Are you mad?" Nesta asked, disbelief coating every word, "Have we sheltered you so much that you have become this ignorant? Someone is dead because of your selfishness Elain, and you have decided to defend your actions?"

Elain rolled her eyes, "Don't be dramatic, Nesta, killing herself was just her being selfish thinking she was entitled to-" A knife cut across her cheek and the dagger landed against the wall, sinking deep enough to signal what could have happened to Elain's face.

"Speak again, girl," Amren hissed, "And I won't miss."

It was then that Rhysand spoke.

“My sister is dead,” His tone was flat, monotone, stiff to the point it made everyone in the room flinch, Mor who had been beside Nesta immediately placed a shield over the female, Feyre doing the same for herself as part of Rhysand’s desk went flying at Azriel’s head. No one protecting Elain beside him, not even Azriel himself.

Rhysand rose from his seat, his frantic pacing as he gripped at his hair, laughing, laughing as he sunk to the ground and screamed his next words. “My sister is dead and there is nothing, no amount of apologies, no amount of guilt, no amount of begging that can bring her back. DO YOU HEAR ME SHE IS DEAD!” Stilling, he finally raised his head, his hard gaze set on Azriel, his eyes still shining with tears.

“Get out of my court, Azriel.”

Panic shone in the shadow singer’s eyes. He stepped forward but was met with an invisible wall, Feyre. In Rhysand’s words Feyre had raised the wall to separate Azriel and Elain from the rest of the room, their only route was out…

“I never want to see you, or Elain again. Because if I do I will kill you. I will kill you and cauldron help me I will make you suffer. Get out of my court, find somewhere else who will accept someone who betrayed their mate.”

And with that Azriel and Elain were pushed out of Rhysand’s office, the hallway empty and dark save for both of them, and the only sound was Rhys’s anguished roar that followed.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A/N: Sooooo how did you like it? :)

Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl

[springfaekohaku]

Warning Shot

It was only supposed to be a warning shot.

Steve Harrington found himself staring face first into the barrel of a gun, held by none other than Nancy Wheeler — his girlfriend.

Said girlfriend was shouting at him, while Jonathan Byers stood at her side with matching bandages on their hands, the boy looking just as shocked as Steve. His voice echoing around them and getting lost in Nancy’s booming voice, a side he never saw from the girl that he fell head over heels with. Steve could only hold his hands up in a surrendering gesture, he was officially freaking out.

It was chaos. Steve didn’t even know what to think, he arrived with the intent to figure out what was going on with the two of them, Tommy and Carols voices taunting him in his head that something was going on. But this? He was being screamed at, demanding he’d leave and get out of the Byers residence, while Christmas lights were flickering on the wall with an alphabet drawn into it; he felt like he was having a fever dream.

Until the walls started to tremble and shake, Nancy’s voice got desperate and in a panic at Steve’s insistence to know what the hell was going on, he just wouldn’t leave. Jonathan’s panic at the escalation and the added pressure of Steve being in the midst of their plan, making everything go astray. Nancy had to do something to get Steve to leave, she felt herself building in pressure and like a rubber band; she snapped.

Just as the roof was being sunken in and the lights bursting, a loud BANG! rung through the living room and it all went silent…

Steve felt like his ears burst and could only hear ringing as he stared at Nancy. It was like things were in slow motion and his brain didn’t catch up to what just happened until he felt a burning sharp pain in his right hand and turned his head to see a hole in the middle of his palm. That’s when it all set in and realised what the fuck just happened.

He hears both Nancy’s and Jonathan’s voices.

“It was only supposed to be a warning shot. I-It, I…I aimed above I swear. I didn’t mean to.”

“What did you just do?! You shot him! You actually shot him, whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck—”

Steve finally felt everything coming back and clear as the ringing subsided, the adrenaline wearing off and he truly feels the agony and pain in his hand. There is a hole in his hand. In the middle of his palm.

There is a fucking hole in his hand.

And Nancy Wheeler, his girlfriend was the cause of it. Pretty sure it was Ex-Girlfriend now.

He hears the two teenagers shouting in panic and stress, while Steve checked out, only feeling blood pooling out from his wound down his arms and off his elbow. So he releases his hands from the air and cradles his injured hand with his other one, it hurt but his mind was somewhere else and everything seemed to collapse on itself. In his mind and currently in the Byers living room. However, he had a rude awakening as he felt Jonathan call out his name like trying not to spook a wild animal that’s been injured. His name was soft and gentle on his lips. Steve could see the desperation and panic in his eyes, like they were running out of time.

And they were. They were given a moment of peace until hell broke loose again. Only this time, the roof does sink in on itself, with a monster phasing through it and Steve was right under it. He could only look up and see what appears to be a claw, almost puncturing through the roof like it was made out of flesh and stretched skin.

Jonathan didn’t waste a second, discarding the initial plan to coax Steve into safety, they ran out of time; so he lunges for Steve. Grabbing his uninjured arm, tugging him and both jumping over the bear trap and to the room with Nancy ahead, opening the door for both boys and her last, locking it and standing guard.

Steve was walked to the bed and Jonathan sat him down. He had to find something to bandage Steve’s wound, which felt fruitless because there was no medical supplies in this room. So he figured the next best thing is a thin layered shirt that he can tear up and use as a makeshift bandage. It seemed like luck was on his side because he found exactly that. It was a disposable shirt too, it wouldn’t be missed, so he got to work. He had to act fast, he could hear the monster finally break through and its heavy body hit the living room floor. He kneels down in front of Steve and sees the other boy holding his injured hand and trembling. He coaches Steve through it and tells him it’s going to be okay, that it’ll hurt but that he’s here. Maybe it was also to get himself together too. He’s not leaving. As scared as he is, Jonathan knew the monster smelt their blood and now Steve’s fresh flesh wound, he didn’t want it to get any worse than it already is.

They had a plan. It’s all gone to shit and haywire.

Now, they just need to figure out how to trap the bastard and keep it from the others. They can still do this, they need to do this.

Jonathan looks at his handy work and deems is satisfactory for now and turns towards Nancy, meeting her eyes, he sees her guarded, her eyes were stormy and face littered in a ripple of emotions. But it seems like she also has the same conclusion, get it together and focus on the plan; no matter if it’s skewed and ruined.

So, she meets Jonathan’s gaze. She doesn’t even have it in her to look at Steve. Her boyfriend. The boy she shot.

They can still execute in the next phase. They just need Steve to be hidden in a secure place, away from danger.

Away from Nancy and her gun. Which was unsaid but it was spoken in her mind.

Nancy nods, standing guard and Jonathan nods in return. Standing up to guide Steve to a wardrobe, taking everything out and placing him in. Jonathan didn’t feel any resistance, he can clearly tell Steve is still in shock and internally dissociating. He notices that far-away look and how pliant he was with being essentially manhandled into the wooden wardrobe. Sitting him down, Jonathan can only offer a few words of reassurance and telling the older boy they’ll be back for him when it’s over. He wasn’t able to wait for a response as Nancy signals Jonathan and Steve feels the sense of safety and warmth leave his space. A feeling he’d never thought associating with Jonathan, it was new but he couldn’t help but feel his lingering touches, gentle yet firm.

He doesn’t even notice the wardrobe doors close and all he knows next is darkness and being left alone with his thoughts. He can’t help but think back to his and Jonathan’s spat, how Steve taunted him and called him names, said awful things about his family and yet…the younger boy grabbed him and took his hand into safety and out of danger without a second thought. He can’t help but also think about how in their fight, or well, Steve’s beat-down, how Jonathan being on top of him sparked a feeling that felt dangerous and unknown, yet familiar. How he straddled his hips and felt his hands on him and like moments ago, instead of his touch hurting, he was gentle and kind. He felt butterflies in his stomach. It made Steve and his entire world go into turmoil and it seems like he’s come to two conclusions tonight:

Monsters are real.

He’s pretty sure he’s having a Queer awakening.

He didn’t have time to dwell more in the closet, haha, because the sound of gunshots, the sound of like a banshee screeching, Nancy’s voice and Jonathan’s grunts could be heard; Steve had to get out.

So he does.

Steve breaks out of his hiding spot and opens the door, he rushes to the scene of commotion and sees Jonathan pinned down by the monster, which looked to be made out of flesh, its mouth opens like a flower with petals that has razor sharp teeth inside — all wanting to bite into Jonathan’s face as the boy tries to fight against it. Nancy fired shots but it seems to not deterrent the monster, not even bothering it and she seemed frozen and unsure what to do next.

Enter Steve who spots the nailed bat, so he leaps over the bear trap again, grabbing the nail bat and as the adrenaline fills his entire being once again; he doesn’t even feel the pain as he grips the bat in a death grip. He gets close enough and shouts at the ugly bastard. He gains its attention and it screeches at him, now smelling the fresh blood from Steve’s hand and detached itself from Jonathan. It stood and towered over Steve but Steve didn’t feel anything but anger, rage, the instinct to protect and keep them safe.

He twirls the bat to get a better grip and positions himself into a stance to fully swing at the monster, using all his strength and power, he hoped playing baseball for a while payed off.

So he swung, the monster staggering and Steve was hitting blow after blow and that’s when Nancy and Jonathan recoup to see Steve backing the hideous creature into the bear trap. It was working.

Holy shit, it was working.

Steve knew it fell into the trap as it screeched in a guttural scream that he hasn’t heard before.

That’s when he hears Jonathan’s voice shouting at him to stand back and he sees the boy throw a lit lighter into the gasoline which Steve didn’t even notice until it was engulfing the floor and racing towards the trap. Eventually engulfing the creature and the three teens watch as the creature screamed, tried to break free of the trap and even tears off its leg to escape.

Nancy was caught off guard at the unexpected movement and backed away and tugged Jonathan back with her. Eyes trained on it as it advances towards them but then Steve, Steve being the reckless idiot he was, uses the last of his strength and takes only a few strides and twists his body, elbows up and shoulders squared; his feet planted and he swings.

The nails pierced the monsters head before the rest of the bat followed, connecting with the head ripping it clean off its shoulders. The screeching stopped at its decapitation and only the sound of fire burning its flesh remain and the flicker of the lights finally stop and the room stopped feeling like it was going through an earthquake. They stare at the monsters corpse and sees it disintegrating under the flames, taking the heat with it and only leaving scorch marks behind.

Everything was still.

It was over.

Or was it?

TBC…

Next chapter —>

[sebsbarnes]

hole in the wall || pietro maximoff

pietro maximoff x f!reader

summary: despite barely knowing the brainwashed girl beyond the wall, pietro refused to hurt her, no matter how much she hurt him.

word count: 5k+

warnings: fighting, none rlly??

a/n: the russian is translated so i apologize if the translation is wrong. i wrote for pietro years ago but this is my first time in awhile :P reader is subjected to the same torture as bucky bc the character is kinda him, inaccuracies in the mcu but nothing crazy

masterlist

pietro often wondered about the girl who was held next door. he'd hear the screeching metal against the floor followed by a slight commotion and then a thud on the floor. small shuffling could be heard and then it was silence. no movement, no talking, no heavy breathing or cries, silence until the next time the metal door unleashed its harrowing song, and large boots could be heard entering the cell and dragging the girl away.

pietro couldn't tell how long he'd really been here nor how long it had been since the mysterious girl next to him was there but he did know it had been months on end and yet he had never seen a glimpse of the girl that shared the wall with him.

there was a small hole in the cement that allowed him to peer into the girl's cell but each time he looked he was met with the grey wall from beyond. he had heard murmurs that she was young like him and wanda. strong, fearless, one of the doctor's favorites. she was often sent out on missions and came back unscathed. each mission she was sent on was a success as if the concept of failure was unfathomable. she apparently spoke little, only when instructed, never talked back, never laughed, never screamed. almost robotic.

which is why it came to pietro's surprise after hearing the thud of her knees hit the floor and the guards march away he heard a soft sniffle. and then slightly louder ones followed by rapid and heavy breathing. pietro scuffled over to the hole in the wall and peered through. he could see her sitting against the far wall with her legs tucked closely to her, her forehead resting on her knees. he could only see half her body from where she was sitting but he could see her shoulder shaking.

"you... you need to breathe in and out. you are going to make yourself pass out," pietro was unsure, his voice quiet but loud enough for her to hear. her head shot up and looked directly at the hole. her hair was sticking to her face, her mouth was slightly parted, and eyes wide and red.

"it's okay. my name is pietro. you don't need to talk but i... i wanted to see if you are okay. you've never even made a noise before now," he felt funny slightly confessing the fact he's been taking note of your actions.

he watched as you wiped the tears off your cheek and raked the hair off your face.

"i don't know how i am," your voice sounded like you hadn't spoken in days.

"it's okay to not know."

from where you sat you could only see the boy's eye. it was a striking blue, "like the sky," you murmured.

"what?" you heard the voice call back.

you slowly stood up dragging your chained feet over to the wall. you held the wall, steadying yourself before sitting with a huff, "your eyes remind me of the sky."

pietro wasn't sure what to say back. he went months not hearing your voice or seeing you, only knowing the tales that the guards spoke of yet here you were inches from him, broken down and giving a compliment. a much different reality to the one he thought he knew before.

pietro didn't hear another word from you, he assumed you fell asleep against the wall. he tried looking through the hole at any angle he could to see you, but all he noticed was a piece of metal gleaming from the dull light in your cell.

a few days had passed since the interaction and pietro had little time to dwell on it. his testing was getting more intense, he was constantly being injected with needles he knew nothing about, there were many monitors reading whatever vitals they needed to document, and his training was becoming more rigorous. he was exhausted, he hadn't been in his cell in two days, and although the cell offered no comfort he much rather be locked behind the bars than strapped to a table.

the guards pushed him down the hallway, taunting him. each time he stood up they would push him back down. the shackles on his wrists rubbed his skin raw and those around his ankles prevented him from running. the guard gripped his shoulder tightly walking past wanda's cell as she called out to her brother.

"wanda!" he screamed out as he watched the other guard reach through the bars and grip at her neck. the guard holding onto him roughly pushed him into the cell causing him to stumble and land on his shoulder, his face grazed the cement floor.

you had heard the commotion from your cell, you stood at the door looking over at the guards who simply laughed at the twins who were now in pain. all you could do was grimace. you hated this, you hated this place, each day you yearned to leave this hell hole you've called home. you heard pietro scream in frustration and then heard his rapid movements as he ran around his cell, thrashing against the walls.

you had seen pietro from a distance a few times. you were never allowed to be near the enhanced people and only managed glimpses of them. you had seen his super speed and the way the scientists trained him. it was brutal and he endured a lot just from the few moments you had witnessed. you started to notice that after particularly rough days he would do this, run back and forth for what seemed like hours on end. slamming into the cement walls that would somehow rattle from the force. he would yell in anger, cursing the guards and scientists for what they were doing.

the noise settled and you hesitantly sat in front of the small hole. you could see his large frame hunched over catching his breath. he ran a hand through his messy silver hair, his white tank top was dirty and slightly damp from his running. you peered behind your shoulder at the hallway making sure it was empty. you swallowed thickly with nerves in fear of getting caught before forcing three fingers into the hole and ripping the cement block from the wall. you could now fit your head through the hole comfortably if you wanted to.

"pietro," you said placing the block beside you. he faltered and gestured with an open hand in confusion at the now gaping hole in the wall. you couldn't help but pull your lips into a tight light suppressing the laugh you wanted to let out at the look on his face. using his speed he rushed to face you, eyes wide examining the open edges of the cement.

"you-"

"are strong," you cut him off jokingly.

the two of you sat staring at each other. it was weird to be face to face after countless months of unknowing the other despite being separated by only a wall. you took in his appearance. he was handsome. up close you could now see the slight curls to his hair and the short facial hair. his shoulders broad and built. under his sky-blue eyes were dark circles from the lack of sleep but it suited him. he was stunning and pietro was thinking the same about you. your hair fell haphazardly across your forehead. your eyes were kind and gentle, much different than the stone-cold eyes he had imagined in his head. your lips were pulled to one side in the tiniest of smiles as you took in his appearance. pietro found it hard to believe the stories he has heard about your reputation as he stared at you. expression soft, eyes and smile kind, you looked battered and worn down but still so youthful as if you didn't fit in with the surrounding grey walls.

"are you okay?" you finally asked.

pietro's nostrils flared and his eyes fluttered shut, "i don't know."

you hesitated a moment before repeating his words from a few days prior, "it's okay to not know."

if you weren't staring intently at the man before you you would've missed the smile that flashed across his face at your remark. it was soon washed away when you both heard loud footsteps from down the hall. you both quickly turned towards the noise that was approaching pietro's cell, he gulped harshly as a guard came into view. he looked back at the wall expecting to still see your face but instead, he saw a metal hand escaping through the hole as if the cement was never removed.

metal...?

it must have been late in the night. the guards had already dropped off the atrocious meal they call dinner and returned to pick the trays up. they rarely patrolled the hallways at night, opting to smoke outside. it was eerie each night. the sound of dripping water from pipes echoed, the occasional gunfire could be heard from the woods outside, slight whispers could be heard from the twins once in a blue moon but it was rare. in a place like this, they didn't let you be a person so it was hard to act like one.

pietro was lying on the bed facing the ceiling making a laughable attempt at trying to get some sort of sleep. he was imagining his life before this when his family was all together, when times were happy, when he was just a little kid and not a young adult performing for crazed scientists. his eyes scanned the room at the sound of bricks moving before seeing your head pop into vision from the hole. pietro let out a small laugh through his nose seeing your sheepish smile.

you sat facing the other not saying anything at first. it was oddly comfortable being face-to-face with the one they call quicksilver. you couldn't put your finger on why though. you've spoken so few words to him but then again it was the first time you let yourself speak to someone in this building that wasn't a doctor or a guard. maybe it was you being naive but it felt okay and safe.

"what made you cry the other day?" he finally spoke his question causing you to blink a few times.

"i think... i think they do something to my head. i mean, i know they do," you thought bringing your fingers to your temple as if the gesture helped you remember, "but i think i'm starting to notice when i'm on missions. it's hard to really know though it's all a blur."

pietro nodded softly taking in what you had to say, "like... brainwashing?"

"it has to be. they recite something each time and then it's like i'm not me," you confessed, "but these past few missions i'll overhear things from strangers passing by or i'll see something and i can feel myself start to wake from the trance. i'm starting to remember life before here and i'm becoming aware of what they have me doing."

"whatever it is they have you doing just know you are still a good person," pietro spoke quietly.

"i kill people," you said bluntly looking him straight in the eyes. he averted his gaze slightly, his hand coming to caress his jaw.

"the person they turn you into out there isn't you. the real you is sitting in front of me now."

"how can you be so sure, you don't even know me," you questioned.

"i don't think an out right evil person would check to see if a stranger is okay... or compliment them the first time they see them," pietro joked slightly. you hung your head as your lips pulled back into a smile. pietro couldn't help the way his body leaned closer to the hole with a big smile on his face observing the way you became shy.

"no one in this building is perfect. we've all done things that are considered evil but if we manage to hold on to some sort of sense of ourselves i think we will be okay. i hope wanda and i get out of here soon. it was a mistake yanno, being volunteers, i regret it. it makes me feel worse knowing you had no say in the matter. you're here every day as a puppet against your will and yet i walked through these doors. every day i'm in pain and every day i regret it," pietro's accent got thicker as he got emotional.

you frowned at the silver-haired man, "life in here is already hard enough, there is no point in being hard on yourself."

his eyes were glossed over, internally fighting himself for the choices he had made in the past. you reached your hand into the hole searching for his. this was out of character for you but it some selfish way you wanted the warmth of his hand to comfort you as well. it was peaceful sitting in silence holding each other's hand. the only form of physical touch the two of you ever received was in the form of torture. gruff hands slapping, punching, shoving, and poking you seemed like a far and distant sensation compared to the safety you felt as pietro's thumb traced the back of your hand.

"you should rest," pietro finally broke what felt like an hour's long silence, "they usually take you first."

you sighed deeply but you knew he was right. god knows what hour it was and you needed to try and get some sleep. pietro gently let go of your hand and allowed you to snake it back through the hole.

"thank you pietro. i hope we can talk more soon," you told him earnestly.

"i hope so too," he gave you a lopsided grin before you grabbed the brick.

it was mere days later when you two found yourself in the same position. the guards were out, pietro had finished his talks with wanda, the disgusting dinners were consumed and taken away, and here you were staring into the sky amongst grey walls. pietro noticed your face had small cuts scattered on it from a mission you were sent on a day prior but you had made no mention of it thus far. you were currently enthralled by pietro telling a story from his younger days. pietro was funny and he didn't even need to try, it had been years since you felt the burning sensation in your sides from laughing too much but he made it easy. and pietro loved the sound of your laugh, it was beautiful, irresistible almost. the two of you went back and forth sharing any memories you could remember from life before these walls and it was effortless but you knew just like the other nights it was soon time to hide the hole.

"you're really pretty," you confessed.

pietro's mouth formed an 'o' shape before turning into a giddy smile, "you are beautiful, dragă"

this time it was pietro plugging the brick back into the wall just as he was about to finish a loud booming voice came from your side of the wall. his hands shook slightly at the volume of the guard yelling 'soldier' in russian to you. pietro could no longer see what was happening but he heard you stand up and reply back and leave the cell.

although you and the guard walked in silence you knew he saw you talking to pietro. you continued to clench and unclench your fists trying to calm yourself for what was to come.

"Тебе нравится мальчик?" (do you like the boy?) the guard asked placing a firm grip on your shoulder, pushing you towards the all too familiar room. you stayed quiet and you heard the man snicker to himself, satisfied with your silence.

in the room, several other guards were standing in position, many holding guns. you saw the needles and wires spread across the small rolling table with a doctor in a white coat hunched over it. the monitors sitting idly waiting to read your vitals. the guard that escorted you pushed you into the contraption that stood before you forcing your body flush against the back. immediately automatic shackles secured your arms to the chair and the whirling sound of small electric plates situated themselves against the sides of your head.

"смешно... ты, кажется, молчишь только рядом с нами," (funny... you only seem to be quiet around us.) the doctor smirked, admitting they all were aware of you and pietro speaking. the doctor sucked his teeth as you glared at him, unwilling to confess to anything.

he picked up the mouth guard from the table wiggling it in front of your mouth waiting for you to open. you bit down in anger, all the muscles in your face twitching, your eyelids blinking rapidly pushing back any emotion daring to creep up at what you knew was about to happen. it wasn't often they wiped your memory, only when they deemed your actions defied them, like not getting enough information on missions which was rare. it had been months since the last time they did this. you screamed in agony as the electric volts zapped against your head. sweat started to bead across your thrashing body. it was indescribable and it wasn't a short process but once the currents stopped your world was black and each time you'd wake up in your cell with no recollection.

it was a week later you found yourself in the training room after being isolated since the memory wipe. your shoulders were hunched forward, chest facing the ground, your arms swayed ever so slightly by your side, your breathing was ragged after being beaten in the form of "training" for the last two hours. the doctors insisted it would be over soon, one final test for the day before you could go to your cell. the door creaked open and the familiar sound of boots entered, you didn't even bother looking up.

"солдат!" (soldier!) a guard yelled causing you to slowly pick your head up. at the door was a young man you'd never seen before, he wore tattered pants and a tank top, his hair was silver, and his blue eyes were opened wide in what you could only assume was shock. and though you didn't recognize him, pietro recognized you.

up until now, he had never seen your full figure before, only parts of your body that were visible through the hole. despite you clearly being injured and tired you stood tall and pietro could tell you were strong. the most alarming part about you was your arm... your metal arm. pietro's eyebrows scrunched together, head slightly cocked to the side examining the way the metal met your skin, some scar tissue bright red while others were faded.

before pietro could mutter any words aloud a doctor appeared from a side door and sauntered towards you holding a notebook.

"работа...ус��ановить..." (work...establish...) the doctor read.

"please, no," you whispered, your neck screwing to the side as if it will block the doctor's voice.

"станция..." (station...)

pietro watched as your chest heaved air in and out as the doctor continued reciting from the book, circling your body like a predator ready to attack. he watched as your teeth chatter together and your metal hand flexed. the doctor stopped behind your right shoulder leaning down slightly so his mouth was level with your ear. pietro couldn't hear the whispers but he felt nervous at the doctor's intense eye contact and the loud clap of the notebook being shut. the doctor lazily dragged his hand off your shoulder whispering one final command before exiting the way he came.

pietro jumped at the sound of the door behind him slamming shut as the guards snuck out, leaving only the two of you in the room.

"wha- WOAH!" pietro shrieked as you came barreling towards him at full speed, your metal arm raised high in the air to come down on his body.

"please i don't want to hurt you," but his pleas were left unheard as you socked him in the jaw, tossing him to the ground and repeatedly punching his stomach. although being fast, pietro found himself trapped beneath you and it took moments before he was able to get out and start running in different directions. slowly, you walked towards a vacant chair in the corner, eyes trained on the blue light racing around the room. you gripped the chair waiting for the right moment before launching it across the room and nailing pietro square in the back. you stalked towards his groaning figure grasping his shoulder and flipping him onto his back where you straddled him and punched at his face.

to pietro's relief, the doctor came back into the room beckoning an order to you. pietro watched from underneath your frame as your pupils twitched at him and your head robotically moved to face the doctor. you refrained from punching pietro anymore and stood up and walked to the doctor and the two guards who waited behind. one of the guards stabbed a needle into your neck and once more the world was black.

you couldn't even begin to guess what time or day it was when you finally woke up on the floor of your cell. your body was violently shaking from the cold and you started to panic. as much as you tried to think of any memories you couldn't, it was like your mind was a blank slate and it was causing you to panic even more which then turned into anger. you grabbed the small bed and threw it at the wall and screamed loudly. you repeatedly slammed your metal first into the wall causing dust to liter the air. guards walked past your cell but simply laughed and continued to make their way down the hall and off into the outside world.

"hey," a voice spoke unsteadily. you whipped your head around to the other wall and saw a face peeking through.

"it's okay," the man tried to ease seeing your angered state approaching him. you kneeled in front of the hole looking intensely at his face.

"who are you?"

this question confirmed pietro's fear that they wiped your memory. he had foolishly hoped that in the training room you were just too worn down to recognize him when he walked through the door before they sent you into your trance.

"my name is pietro. you may not remember but i am a friend," he spoke hoping to see any form of recollection cross your face. instead you examined him quietly before turning your head and examining the room. it was lit dully, your bed now turned on its side, and there was a tray of food sitting near the cell door that looked to be days old.

"this is a hydra base," pietro continued without you having to ask, "the people here are not good. they hurt us, they experiment on us, many people have died here. i have a sister here, a twin," he said pointing a finger behind him, "her name is wanda. they call us the enhanced. we both possess abilities no normal human would have due to their experimentations. we came as volunteers and i regret it."

"am i a volunteer?" you questioned.

"no, dragă. a few weeks ago you told me they found you during the winter, alone. you had been lost in the forest and they made promises to help you find home but you never returned. you said you aren't sure but you think it's been ten years since," pietro confessed, his accent thick with sorrow.

you hummed, unsure of what to say. you remembered none of this so what could you really say back? was pietro even telling the truth? how could you decipher fact from fiction in a state like this? despite the confusion and the absence of memory, something deep within you said it was all true, everything he was saying was right.

"why is my arm gone?" you whispered, slightly touching the contorting metal panels near the elbow.

pietro couldn't help but feel a pain in his chest as he observed you try and remember any semblance of yourself, "i- i don't know. what i do know is the doctors, they like you. you are very important to them and they make you do dirty work. the reason you can't remember anything is because they wipe your memory."

"i suppose that makes sense," you nodded slightly giving pietro a bitter smile.

"i am sorry for what they do to you," pietro stated earnestly. if he could help you in any way he would, over and over again, he would.

you paused, taking in pietro's face which held some serious injuries. the skin on his brow bone was split, his eye was bright red with blood and a nasty purple-green bruise on his jaw.

"did i do this to you?" you asked, slowly reaching your hand through to gently touch his jaw.

"of course you didn't my love," he murmured, tenderly grabbing your wrist and threading his fingers with yours.

"if there comes a time when i hurt you, please don't go easy on me," you pleaded.

"i cannot promise you that," he smiled at you softly, bringing his other hand to enclose your freezing one.

and pietro was being truthful. he couldn't nor he wouldn't harm you in the event the doctors forced you to fight. he would run and dodge the punches, and the chairs being thrown at him, but he couldn't fight you, he just couldn't. it pained him to see the different version of yourself, the real you locked inside begging to come out of the brainwashing.

pietro didn't think it would be so soon when he would be in the same position as before, standing across from you in the training room as the same doctor circled your body, reciting words in russian that would transform you into their super soldier. it was only hours after the two of you decided to sleep that pietro was ripped from his bed and dragged into the training room.

the doctor once again closed the notebook but before leaving he looked over at pietro, "it is a shame," he started with a thick russian accent, "her memory wiped twice in a week. i thought maybe you two would work well as a team. we could start sending you out on missions with her. but it seems she has developed a hm. what do you call it?" he fake pondered, "ah! a crush! and that is not something we take kindly here. she provides more to us here than you do so..." with that the doctor whispered one final thing in your ear before leaving.

pietro watched carefully as you headed towards him and at the last moment he sprinted away causing you to concave the metal door. you whipped your head around, eyes wide in anger, tracking the movements of the man. he was fast and this irritated you. sticking your leg out you managed to trip him at the last moment and his large frame hurled to the floor. you gripped his shirt in one hand and used your metal hand to punch him in the side of the face.

"it's me!" the man below you yelled. this had no effect on you and you raised your hand to hit him again but he grabbed your fist. the two of you violently struggled against each other before you used your hand clutched to his shirt to slide him away with great force.

"please i said i would never hurt you. it's me, pietro!" the man pleaded getting up to run past your approaching figure. for some reason hearing the name pietro caused a loud screeching pain in your head.

"what are you doing to my head?" you screamed, clutching your head in your hands, eyes screwed shut.

pietro stopped running and looked at your trembling figure, "i'm- i'm not doing anything."

you tried ignoring the high-pitched shrilling noise and stumbled to pietro. you grabbed onto his shoulders and pushed him backward against the wall. although you moved him with force pietro could feel the weakness in your grip this time. he stayed silent looking into your eyes that were frantically examining him.

"the noise..." you muttered bringing your metal hand to hold your head.

"there... there is no noise," pietro spoke confused. there was no noise in the room besides heavy breathing.

"who are you?" you probed shoving him roughly against the wall.

"it's me. pietro. i live next to you in the cell. i came here as a volunteer with my twin sister wanda. you are here against your will. they found you when you were little and never let you leave. they hurt you every day, they aren't good people. trust me, please. it's me your friend," pietro rushed hoping to break through to you.

he felt your grip slightly falter as you looked him up and down. he couldn't make out the emotion in your face as you screwed and unscrewed your features together, internally fighting yourself. he wasn't scared, but nervous rather for your next move or action.

as pietro spoke the high-pitched noise continued to grow louder causing severe pain in your head. it made you nauseous and your vision would cloud with blinding bright light. you hung your head gasping for air as a vague image of a cell came to memory. you tried blinking it away but it would reappear, this time you'd see a man. the man you were pushing against the wall. his head was peeking through the cell wall. instinctually you pressed him further into the wall, pietro's shoulder blades started to ache. a new memory came and it was pietro holding your hand, his thumb caressing yours.

you shot your head up looking at the man. your eyes were glossy with tears from the pain you were experiencing. not just the physical pain of the intense noise but the mental pain as you tried to piece together who he was. his appearance was becoming familiar. his clothes, his broad shoulders, the facial hair on his jaw and upper lip, the cut on his eyebrow, the dark roots of his hair and the silver ends, and his eyes.

you dropped your grip and pietro's eyes contorted in confusion.

"like the sky..." you murmured.

[say-al0e]

Casual

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: Steve Harrington has always been kind of an asshole and you've always been kind of in love with him. But a lifetime of friendship doesn't mean either of you are ready for something more than a casual fling because there's nothing scarier than vulnerability, even in Hawkins. [Set between seasons 2 and 3] Warnings: Car sex, requited unrequited love, unprotected PinV, mentions of cheating (parents, Carol; not Steve or Reader). Pairing: Steve Harrington x rich girl!Reader (briefly mentioned but important, off-screen Eddie Munson x rich girl!Reader) Word Count: 5.6k

Steve Harrington was kind of an asshole.

For as long as you’d known him, he’d been a bit of a dick. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, depending on who you asked, you’d known him your entire life. You grew up together, neighbors, with parents who, in their own way, were best friends - if either of your parents were capable of such a thing as friendship. And because of that, you saw a side of Steve that few others had ever witnessed.

There were moments where you saw the softness, the honeyed sweetness, that shimmered through the cracks in the facade he crafted for himself - beneath the hair and the smirk and the snarky quips. Moments where the real Steve, a tender-hearted, well-intentioned sweetheart who was always on the verge of getting it right but never quite managed to make it, lurked beneath the heavy crown he wore.

Just as there were moments when he saw beneath your own carefully crafted persona. He was the only only person who had ever seen the worry, the sadness, the deep-rooted yearning for something more that was buried beneath your walls of ice. He saw every impossibly strong, deeply felt emotion that lingered beneath your careful composure, your even stoicism. He saw the real you, not just the Ice Queen cloaked in department store dresses and expensive perfume.

Only, neither of you acknowledged those moments.

It was an unspoken pact, one you’ve honored since thirteen when you both realized that being popular meant more than being nice. You both pretended that you were still the same vapid rich kids you’d always been, unburdened by a world built to cater to you.

Even if that was no longer true. Even if it hadn’t been true in a very long time.

Either way, you didn’t mention his newfound soft spot for a strange, ragtag group of children and he didn’t mention the fact that he knew the hickey just beneath your jaw was from none other than Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson.

Just as you had nearly every weekend for the past six months, the pair of you sat in the backseat of his BMW after yet another party that neither of you particularly wanted to attend. It had long ago gotten old, pretending to enjoy the self-involved prattling of your former classmates - their bragging about taking on the family business or which colleges they’d be attending in the fall, snide remarks about Steve’s lack of direction while conveniently ignoring the fact that you were the only one with an Ivy acceptance - and you couldn’t help yourself as you huffed.

“Tommy and Carol are the worst. I swear, if I have to hear her bitch about his inability to make her come or him make another stupid fucking dick joke, I’m gonna scream.”

For as long as you could remember, you’d wanted to tell them both to fuck off, to disappear back into whatever hole they’d managed to claw their way out of, but Steve reveled in their following, once upon a time, anyway. Now, he looked almost resigned to their existence in your lives as he frowned.

“She told you that?”

“Won’t stop telling me that,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as his hand fell to your thigh, fingers idly tracing the bare skin just beneath the hem of your skirt. “I would tell her to break up with him but, honestly, they totally deserve each other. May they spend the rest of their lives making each other completely fucking miserable.”

It was only in these moments, hidden away in the thick of the trees near Lover’s Lake, that any glimpse of your real selves began to emerge. Your annoyed huffing, directed at the awful people you found yourself surrounded by, and Steve’s tender touch as he shifted closer and carefully brushed a lock of hair from your neck. Neither of you mentioned it, too lost in your own little world, but it never escaped either of your notice.

Still, Steve hummed dutifully. “Totally,” he agreed, “told him she cheated on him with Billy but he called me a liar.” He paused for a moment, shifted just a touch closer - his jean covered leg pressing into yours, body warm even in the cool air conditioning - before he changed the subject by asking, “New perfume?”

“Everyone knows about her and Billy. But, like, who hasn’t Billy fucked at this point.” Steve leaned in, nosed at the curve of your jaw, and you hummed. “Mom brought it back from that last conference they went to. Said I needed something more mature before I leave for school.” You left out the part of the conversation where she went on for nearly an hour about how much of a waste it was for you to even consider college in the first place when you were meant to marry someone of status - someone like Steve - and tilted your head to allow him more room.

“Smells good,” he complimented. “Like oranges or something.”

“Or something,” you mumbled agreeably, shifting against the seat to make yourself more comfortable as he began to press his mouth to the sensitive skin of your throat. “What’re you doin’, Stevie?”

“Giving you the attention you deserve,” he answered, never missing a beat and only pausing to nip at the pulse point. “Can’t have you unfucked in this skirt. That’d be criminal.”

As if he sought to make a point, Steve’s hand began to drift higher up your thigh, fingers traveling a well-worn path and ghosting over bruises left in his wake after last Saturday’s party at his own home. Again, he decidedly avoided the few extra spots that lined your thighs - the bite mark he would see when you parted your legs, in the shape of a certain metalhead’s teeth, and the hickey you’d been left with at the juncture of your thighs - as you laughed.

“Should call Hawkins’s finest,” you teased, grinning when Steve huffed a laugh.

“They’d send Callahan,” he mused as his fingers dug into the plush of your thigh and pulled you closer, encouraging you to climb onto his lap. “Would love to see him try to figure out what to do with you.”

“And you know what to do with me?”

Steve’s smirk was obvious, clear even as he nipped at your skin. “‘Course I do,” he assured you, settling back against the plush of the seat as you shifted in the small space and settled on his lap. “I know exactly what to do with you.”

“Prove it.”

The challenge hung in the air for a moment, thick even in the cool interior of his car, and gave you the briefest respite to study him. Soft brown eyes were blown black with lust, a darkness that you sometimes found yourself grateful for the chance to witness, and his hair had begun falling in his eyes. His cheeks were tinged pink and you knew that his lips would follow soon. 

Steve was beautiful, a work of art in the dim moonlight, and your heart beat just a touch too fast for something that was supposed to be casual as you waited for him to take the bait.

Before you could tease, attempt to bring some levity back into the moment that suddenly seemed too intense, Steve’s large hand found the back of your head. He pulled you in with a practiced ease, a touch that betrayed just how comfortable you were with one another, and pressed his mouth to yours.

Whereas Steve’s facade was all flash, easy confidence with nothing to prove, his kiss was almost desperate. There was the knowledge that he was good - he’d earned it, sought to learn exactly what you liked and adapted quickly - but beneath that, there was a desire to make the moment everything you could want. He kissed you with an urgency you could never quite understand, almost as if he wanted to savor the moment because he feared it may never happen again, but you knew that couldn’t be true.

As reticent as you both were to delve into your true selves - into your true feelings - you knew that this would happen time and again. It would happen until one of you inevitably broke the other’s heart, and maybe even after.

Still, Steve kissed your with more passion than you ever could’ve expected.

From your position on his lap, skirt bunched around your waist and hands falling into his hair, you could feel the growing bulge in his jeans. There was a slight rocking of his hips, something you might’ve dismissed as an attempt to get comfortable if you didn’t know him so well, and you still managed to find yourself surprised by just how much the little things turned him on.

“Girls like you,” he rasped, breaking the kiss before you could even think to, “just need to be fucked dumb. Be all pretty and cock drunk. Made into that pretty little trophy wife you swear you’d hate to be.”

The way he spoke was so casually condescending, a little mean in the way he’d discovered you liked, and you felt your cheeks heat as you squirmed on his lap. He knew - knew that your mother hated your ambition, swore you were purposely sabotaging her attempts to marry you off, including the few attempts she’d made with him - and smirked when you shot him a half-hearted glare.

“You can pout all you want, but that’s what you need, right?” His hands fell to your thighs, raking up the soft skin as your own tangled in his hair and tugged. “To be taken care of, to be fucked like you deserve.”

“Don’t think some hotshot husband would care enough to fuck me like that,” you countered, swallowing hard in an attempt to maintain your composure as his fingers trailed higher. “Would never come. He’d be too focused on fucking the secretary ‘cause she won’t be upset when he gets off and she doesn’t. But that’s why the trophy wives fuck the pool boys and tennis coaches, I guess.”

Steve hummed his understanding - had his own firsthand knowledge of both your father’s affairs, knew just what kind of men he was surrounded by now that he was old enough - before tipping his chin to glance up at you. “Guess you’ll have to look harder to find someone worth your time, then. ‘Cause this pussy’s too good to be wasted on some dickhead who won’t appreciate it.”

“Steve.” His name came out softer than you intended, a near breathless sort of whine that betrayed you - more than the growing patch of slick clearly visible against the light pink fabric of your panties - and he hummed.

“Don’t worry, babe. You know I’ll take care of you.” Though Steve could be an asshole when he wanted, he was nothing but a giver when he settled between your thighs. There were moments where you worried, secretly feared this might be the moment he decided to be selfish and leave you hanging, but more often than not, you were the one to tap out first. And any argument you could’ve formed died on your lips as he ordered, “Just shut up and sit pretty for me, yeah?”

Despite yourself - despite the part of your brain that wanted you to argue, to fight back and tell him to go fuck himself - you melted into his touch as his fingers ghosted over the fabric between your thighs. You heard him sigh, felt the warmth of his breath fanning over your mouth as he refused to put more space than necessary between you, as his gaze met yours.

“Next time, I’m fucking you in my bed,” he decided, gaze flicking back to where his fingers hooked into the soft material and dragged it to the side. “Can’t taste you the way I want in here.”

“Can’t keep saying shit like that,” you mumbled, nails biting into his skin as you gripped his shoulder to keep yourself upright. “Gonna make me think you actually like eating pussy.”

“I do,” he admitted, grinning when you rolled your eyes. “Like eating yours the best, though.”

With that, Steve’s fingers swiped through the slick gathered between your thighs. His thumb caught on the sensitive bundle of nerves and his mouth returned to yours, eagerly swallowing the soft noise of surprised pleasure you released.

Each swipe of his fingers was easy, almost lazy. There was a practiced ease there, a lover’s knowledge of your body - absent any of the almost nervous exploration of the first time - and you forced yourself not to think too hard about that fact as his tongue swiped at the seam of your lips.

The small space was cramped, not the easiest to maneuver, but it was familiar.

Though sometimes familiarity equated to boredom, routine, Steve’s touch was anything but. Every swipe of his fingers through your folds, every brush of his thumb over the aching bundle of nerves, was electrifying. He had you teetering on the verge of begging, eager for him in a way you’d never been for anyone else - almost anyone else - and you knew he could tell as he finally gave you something more.

Two thick fingers, skilled and steady, pressed into you. They stretched you - never quite enough to fully prepare you for the impressive length hidden beneath the denim you knew you were soaking through - in a way that had your breath catching in your throat and your heart hammering in your chest. Steve knew exactly where to press, fingers finding that one spot that made you see stars, and you could feel the twitch of his mouth as he refused to allow you to pull away from the kiss entirely.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, tone so smug it made you realize why so many were eager to brand him an asshole. “C’mon, babe, the sooner you let go, the sooner I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Despite your conflicting emotions - the desire to hit him, to call him an asshole and tell him to just get on with it; the desire to kiss him, to tell him that you only wanted this, him for the rest of your life - you settled for the middle ground and allowed yourself to sink into his touch.

Those murmurs of encouragement, almost reverent in a way that you hoped no one else had ever heard, had your mind blanking and your chest heaving as you focused solely on the press of his fingers. His pace was perfect, steady and even and never too much - always too much, always enough to make you wonder how you ever thought you could be fine with losing this someday - and you would’ve told him as much if you were capable of speaking without admitting that you were afraid you could love him for the rest of your life.

Instead, you settled for sinking your nails into his shoulder, for tugging at the soft strands of his hair, as he nipped at your skin. He sucked a mark just beneath the one you knew he’d seen, despite your attempt at concealing it, and that was enough to throw you over the edge.

Steve once admitted to loving the noises you made, promised they turned him on rather than weirded him out - something you only admitted when he asked why you were so quiet, refused to let you come until you explained yourself - and you knew you wouldn’t have been able to quiet yourself even if you’d tried as his fingers worked you through the first orgasm of the night.

Knowing him, Steve wouldn’t stop until he had you desperate - he liked to see your tears, watery eyes and mascara running as you finally let down the walls he’d only glimpsed behind - and that seemed to be the case as he resumed his pace the moment your breathing began to even.

“Steve,” you huffed, your best attempt at something resembling normal, though you could hear the whining edge to your tone. “Fuck me,” you demanded, or at least attempted to. “Fill me up. So big, always feel so full when you’re inside.”

It was a low blow, an attempt to appeal to his ego - exaggerated, though it was true; he was the biggest you’d ever had - and he rolled his eyes as he nipped at your bottom lip.

“So fucking impatient,” he huffed, though he gave in, just as he always did. “Such a spoiled brat.”

With a tap to your thigh, you shifted. You held yourself upright, knees digging into the soft cushions of the seat, long enough for him to unbutton his jeans and shift his hips. As you had every time you found yourself in this situation, which was more often than not lately, you watched with wide eyes and bated breath as he freed himself from the confines of too-tight denim.

For years, you wondered why so many girls flocked to Steve when they knew how things would end. You wondered why anyone gave him a chance, why anyone came back when he forgot to call or blew them off for someone else, but you understood now. The look of him, the weight and feel of his cock in your hand as you reached out and swiped at the pearl of precum beading at the tip, was almost answer enough. The effort he put in to make you feel as if you were the only person that mattered, as if your pleasure were more important than his, quelled the rest of your doubt.

When you lifted your hand to your mouth, lapped the bead from your thumb and hummed, Steve groaned.

“Fucking tease.” There was no bite, no venom, to the words, but you still bit back your grin as he reached for your hip with one hand and held the base of his cock with the other. He dragged you closer, settled you firmly on his lap and swiped the tip of his cock through your folds, as he tipped his chin in a silent request for you to return your mouth to his.

As you pressed your lips to his, he used the grip on your hip to drag your hips down. It was swift, faster than he’d ever gone and almost desperate in the way he pulled you in, but you reveled in the slight pinch as he stretched you open.

There was something so overwhelming about feeling Steve so close, about having him in the way you dreamt of when you first realized how you felt about him, but you did your best to swallow the sudden lump in your throat as your eyes fell shut and your lips parted.

The pace always varied with Steve. Some nights were hard and fast, usually when you were both wound up after a particularly rough night; others were soft and slow, when the emotion began to overwhelm you, when the desperate need to be close outweighed the potential damage a confession might bring. And others still were somewhere in between, teasing and playful; an alternation between soft and hard, slow and quick - a way for him to make you beg, to bring you out of your head and into the moment.

Tonight was no different.

Though you sat atop him, Steve did all the work. His hips snapped, cock pressing into you with every movement, as his hands dragged you down. He controlled the pace, controlled the moment, and you allowed yourself to be fully present.

There was no facade in these moments, no pretending to be anything other than you were, and you imagined that was why you both returned time and again. This was Steve - giving, eager, desperate to be good enough. And you were just as present, just as honest; soft, pliant, warm and overjoyed that he still wanted you despite the surface ice that froze most others out. 

Neither of you could pretend here, with nothing between you but a few pesky articles of clothing. Neither of you wanted to.

And you knew, as your mouth returned to his, that despite the rough snap of his hips and the bruising grip he held on your hip, that your kiss betrayed you. Each swipe of your tongue, each breathless gasp you allowed him to swallow, told him exactly what he needed to know.

When his hand fell between your thighs, thumb pressing to the aching bundle of nerves, your mind went blank and your thoughts revolved solely around the beautiful brunette beneath you.

The curve of his jaw, the warmth of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the plush of his lips; Steve, Steve, Steve, was all that existed in your mind. The drag of his cock, filling you so perfectly that it almost seemed as if he were a missing piece, designed especially for you, was all that existed. And just as he wanted, it left you pliant in his hands.

“There we go,” he groaned, voice softer than you imagined he intended, as a hand lifted to your cheek. “Look at that, givin’ you what you need, hm?” When you moaned your agreement, lips pursing in a silent request for him to kiss you, Steve smiled. “Look pretty like this. Soft and fucked out for me. I’m the only one that can make you feel like this, yeah?”

It was the first confirmation that he knew, that he cared more than you thought he might, about the other man in your life. And though you wanted to tease him, to poke and prod and be a bit of a bitch about it, you could only moan your agreement.

Eddie was good, was more than enough, but there was something about Steve.

“Prove it,” he demanded, voice only just beginning to show his exertion as his hips snapped a little harder. “Come for me, babe. Show me how good I make you feel.”

As was beginning to become a habit, you gave in to him without so much as an attempt otherwise. The press of his fingers to your aching clit, the rough snap of his hips, the warmth of his breath fanning over your sweat slick skin; all of it was too much, just enough, to send you barreling over the edge for a second time.

With a cry of his name, keening and louder than you intended, you came and Steve followed shortly after. You could feel the warmth of his spend, the twitch of his cock, as you settled for a long moment, and felt the tears stinging at the backs of your eyes.

Without so much as a second though, Steve lifted a hand to brush at your cheeks, careful not to press too hard, and swiped away the few that had fallen before he pressed a kiss to your cheek and shot you a teasing wink.

“Love it when you cry for me, babe,” he teased, though you wondered if he’d have the same reaction if he knew the tears were, at least in part, caused by the overwhelming flurry of emotion that had you questioning everything you knew. “Seeing the Ice Queen melt never gets old.”

“You’re such a dick, Stevie.” The huff was as playful as you could manage with your breath still coming in short pants and your stomach churning with emotion but he grinned just the same as he helped you off his lap.

“Think you mean, ‘you have such a great dick, Stevie’.” When you rolled your eyes, straightening out your clothes and attempting to smooth your hair, he laughed. “Oh, c’mon, not gonna say thank you for the incredible orgasms? Your parents raised you better than that, babe.”

“They raised me better than to fuck some rich asshole in the backseat of his car, but, here we are.” Steve followed your lead and began to straighten himself out, zipped his jeans and at least pretended not to stare as you settled your panties back into place, the fabric immediately darkening with his spend. “Speaking of, you should probably get me home, Romeo. It’s past curfew.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Steve simply tugged you back into his side, hand cradling your jaw as you both attempted to catch your breath.

The lie was obvious - your parents didn’t care very much how late you stayed out, even less when you were with Steve - and you knew that he knew who would be waiting for you to return home. However, you didn’t expect him to ask.

Steve’s touch was soft, though you could see the distaste in the set of his mouth as his fingers brushed the two marks beneath your jaw - one fresh and one fading. “What’re you doin’ with the freak, anyway?” He’d never asked, neither of you made it a habit to pry into the other’s personal life, but he seemed unable to help himself as he continued. “You know you could just buy weed, right? You don’t have to fuck him for it.”

“I don’t smoke,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes even as you leaned into his touch. “Dunno,” you shrugged, avoiding his gaze as your hands worried with the hem of your skirt. “He’s exciting. Well, not really,” you amended because he wasn’t, “but he’s different. He’s just… Eddie. Doesn’t try to be something he’s not.” The slight was unintentional but you caught Steve’s slight wince, even as you barreled on. “And, I mean, it totally pisses off my dad every time he sees Eddie sneaking out because the guy’s a total fucking klutz and can’t leave without waking up half the neighborhood.” Steve scoffed, though you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it as he quickly covered the sound with a clearing of his throat before you added, as an afterthought, “And he listens to me. Not, like, pretends to.”

“I listen to you.”

While it wasn’t a lie - Steve listened, retained whatever you told him - neither of you were ever particularly honest with one another. Your conversations were never as serious as the ones you shared with Eddie, never as deep. For someone you considered your best friend, Steve barely knew anything about the real you. Though, that was as much your fault as it was his.

There was always a fear, deep and unfounded, that he might not like the real you. That if you were honest, that if you allowed him to see you for who you really were, that he might hate you. That he might leave. With Eddie, that didn’t matter very much. He was fun, a distraction, a taste of something forbidden and a glimpse into another life, but he was temporary. He could leave at any time, decide he didn’t like the real you and it might hurt for a moment but you would get over it quick. 

With Steve, it was your biggest fear.

Thinking that he might not like the real you, that he might suddenly change his mind and decide the real you wasn’t worth his time, was a fear that felt almost paralyzing. Steve’s opinion mattered, more than anyone else’s, so you held tight to the person you’d always been - the one he’d always at least tolerated - and never breathed so much as a word to the contrary.

Regardless, you humored him. “You do,” you agreed, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair from his eyes. “But you kinda have to. And you also moaned Nancy’s name the first time we fucked so, like, that sorta cancels out some of the good stuff.” Steve flustered, cheeks flashing neon pink as he recalled the moment - a drunken hookup soon after his breakup, the first of what would become a regular occurrence - but before he could defend himself, you asked, “How’s that going, by the way? You figure out how to get her back from the creep?”

Steve shook his head, then, and sighed as he admitted, “Don’t think I even want to, anymore. Think I was just… She was right, maybe. We were kind of bullshit.”

The resigned misery in his voice was obvious, still upset by the hurtful declaration of a girl you knew he’d loved - in his own way, anyway - and you sighed as you rested your head against the seat cushion. “All of this is bullshit,” you shrugged. “High school, Hawkins, Indiana; none of it means anything.”

“We don’t mean anything?” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Steve sounded almost heartbroken - devastated to hear yet another person who meant something to him declare that he meant nothing - and you sighed as you grabbed the hand that rested on your thigh.

“You know I hate sentimentality,” you mumbled, unable to look him in the eye, “but you’re the only thing worth anything in my whole life. You could never be bullshit. Annoying, totally, but not bullshit. Never bullshit.”

There was a brief pause, a moment in which you both felt the weight of you admission pressing on your chests - stealing what little air seemed to remain in the car, windows still fogged and radio still playing too softly to really hear - before Steve swallowed. “You know I…” He cut himself off, paused and seemed to think better of voicing the thought aloud, before he asked, “You know, right?”

‘I love you,’ went unspoken, as it always had. It lingered, just beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to crack the ice and set it free. You knew, just as Steve did, that you were in something like love. Maybe not a love that would last forever, maybe not even a love that was ever meant to be, but it was there.

Warm, shiny and bright, and just waiting for you to stop pretending that things between you had ever been casual.

So, you nodded.

“Yeah,” you assured him, reaching for his hand to squeeze it gently. “I know. Me, too.”

Silence fell, then, thick and suffocating. It filled the interior of his car with a bitter chill and it struck you just how new that feeling was. It made you wonder what a future might be like, if you had one at all, and you found yourself mildly horrified at the idea that you could end up as either set of your parents. There was no world in which you could see a future without Steve at least somewhere in your life but there was no happiness in a world in which you both continued to pretend.

Either way, you were both stuck - caught up in a never-ending performance, an act for an audience that only existed in your minds.

What began as something effortless, something casual, had become so complicated that you no longer felt certain of much beyond the understanding that you loved Steve. How -  if you could love the real him, if you only loved the idea of him, if you loved the safety of him - was a question you had no answer to but before you could begin to even fathom it, the moment ended.

Steve pressed a final kiss to your mouth, bruising in a way that made your chest ache and your eyes sting with unshod tears, before he made his way to the driver’s seat.

And then, just as he had every night since he got his license, Steve drove you home. He pulled up to the door to let you out and didn’t mention the van he saw parked down the street. He squeezed your hand before you could step out into the night, three times in rapid succession, and lit a cigarette the moment you stepped out of the car. 

King Steve wasn’t one to fall in love easily, neither was the Ice Queen. But Steve Harrington wore his heart on his sleeve and that heart beat for you. Despite the distractions, the desperate attempts at finding something so disconnected from the cushioned prison of his gilded cage, he knew that it had been you all along. And just as neither of you mentioned the real people beneath the personas, neither of you mentioned just how real the love you shared had grown.

Loving one another, allowing yourselves to be vulnerable - to reveal the deepest, darkest secrets - was terrifying. Both of you feared what the other might think of the truth that lay beneath the crown so you agreed, silently, that to pretend was better than to face rejection.

So, Steve drove the few streets that separated your neighborhood from his and let himself into the empty house that meant nothing when his true home was likely sliding open a window to allow the only person he’d ever seen as true competition inside. And he wondered when the love of his life became a casual fling, when you both resigned yourselves to pretending that neither of you deserved something real - something true, something happy. He wondered why he carried on with it, knowing that in a few short weeks you would be in Boston, knee-deep in a life you hated, while he was stuck in Hawkins, wishing he’d had the courage to be himself and that he’d asked for something more than casual.

There was no satisfactory answer, not if he really thought about it, so he decided not to. 

The rest of the summer would be spent in the same way the last six months had. Steve would pretend to enjoy the parties and the attention of girls who only wanted him for his reputation. You would continue pretending that nothing fazed you, not even him. And things between you would remain casual. 

And he supposed that was just the way it was meant to be.

_________________________________________________

Author's Note: Did you know there's a chance black beans will catch on fire in the microwave? 'Cause I didn't. Anyway. This was my first time writing 'King Steve' and I had so much fun. This was loosely inspired by Chappell Roan's Casual. And my love of both Steve and Eddie. :)

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[thisfanisgonesorry]

how about some quick fuck with hobie after the show? she gives him a nice bj in a quiet alley and he fingers her in the car otw home…

ty for the ask <3 i wrote most if the same day you sent it and then started dying, hopefully its good! got a lil lazy at the end because i have no object permanence but i tried my best :) 

tags: smut, estab, blowjob/fingering duh, love the carfucking trope, public sex/voyeurism, almost caught oooo

🕷

We slid out the backdoor of the venue, and Hobie let out a long sigh. The tension quickly dissipated as he felt the fresh air on his face. “Fin’lly.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Long night.” He spoke, slumping against the concrete wall. “C’mere, love.” He opened his arms in a loose hug, gesturing for me to hug him back before he forcibly pulled me into it due to taking too long.

He pressed kisses into my neck the second that it was in kissing distance. His hands slowly, and taking their sweet time too, fell from around my shoulders to land around my waist, keeping me in place as he pressed his body wholly against me.

“Lovely girl.” He mumbled. 

“I can feel you.” I smiled, whispering in his ear.

“Sorry.” He lied. “Y’re just so good.” That part had been truthful; his kisses found their way up my neck and onto my cheek before he kissed me sweetly on the mouth. “So good to me.”

There was an abrupt screaming heard from the main drag as the rest of the band left through the front door. Signing autographs, taking photos. The commotion was audible, and there was a moment of guilt for anyone trying to actually sleep in this city.

He turned his head to the sound, his eyebrows knitting slightly.

I slid out of his grip and kneeled on the dirty pavement, feeling the scraping against my skin. He turned his head quickly to meet my gaze, sucking in a sharp inhale as he held his hands awkwardly to his sides, not sure what else to do.

“Oh.. Fuck.” He breathed. “That.. ‘s good.”

“Mhm, you look real tense.” I answered back, rubbing my hands up his thighs. His hands awkwardly found their way to his crotch, being a gentleman, he unbuckles, unbuttons and unzips his pants and pulls himself out. 

“Y’so good t’me. Y’know exactly what I need.” His breathing was quick, and he continued to look towards the screaming.

“No one knows we’re here.” I spoke, spitting in my hand and kissing his hip. I gingerly stroked his length, feeling his muscles tense at the touch.

“I know..”

I pressed a chaste kiss on the side of the base, watching all the air leave his lungs in anticipation. I continued slowly stroking him before licking a straight line up the backside of the whole length, then taking the tip in my mouth.

“Shit.” He hissed. “Love it when y’do that.”

I swirled my tongue on the underside of him, and his hand reached for the back of my head, not pushing; just holding. His eyes stayed glued on mine as I hollowed my cheeks and slowly took more in my mouth.

“That’s it, baby, shit, take it.”

The slow movement down was driving him crazy until eventually my nose pressed against his stomach, his mouth fell open and I held the position, feeling him twitch at the very back of my throat. I kept him there for a moment, and he was trying his best to not thrust into me.

“Y’look so fuckin’ hot on y’r knees in that cute li’l skirt. Could cum from jus’ seein’ my dirty girl like this.” He panted. “Can’t believe y’re suckin’ me off in an alleyway.”

I pulled off for air, kissing the side of his base again. “Can’t believe you’re lettin’ me.” I moved back, but this time I began to bob my head at a gracious pace, he grabbed a handful of hair but wasn’t tugging harshly. 

I placed my hand on his, telling him it was okay, and he took that and ran with it, grabbing more hair and moving me back and forth on him, fucking my face but still being gentle enough to not make me deepthroat him.

His volume increased and he was cautious of the crowd of people just around the corner. There was only so long that he could last like this.

“Someone could catch us—” He started, choking out a groan and his dick twitching at his own ideas. “Fuck, the look on their face.. Seein’ m’cock down y’r throat.”

I pushed on his thighs, and he took the hint quickly, letting go of his movements and instead quickly started moving both of his hands to hold my hair in a makeshift ponytail, keeping it out of my way.

“Y’re so fuckin’ beautiful, love.” He commented, I moaned around him at his words and a low growl was his response. “Love the way y’r eyes look up at me. Love the way y’look on my prick, shit, y’re way too good f’me.”

His words were admittedly egging me on, making it so I started going faster and taking more of him. He groaned in response, his grip on my hair tightening as I wrapped my hands around him again, stroking what I couldn’t reach, my other hand wrapped from his thigh to the back of his leg, trying to ground myself.

“Baby, ‘m gonna cum.” He moaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back, careful enough to not slam it right against the concrete wall.

I hummed around him, expressing delight that he was there so quickly. His breathing got heavy and he weakly thrust into the blowjob, ruining the rhythm but it was getting him off.

“Y/n—” He whined, his gaze falling back down to me and he pulled me off of him, quickly wrapping his hand around mine.

I poked my tongue out, keeping my mouth open as his hand guided mine to stroke him to completion. Quick, long strokes that made him swallow thickly, trying to contain his noises so the crowd didn’t know we were here. 

“Hobie.” I breathed, letting him feel my hot breath on his aching skin.

I moved my head up slightly, pressing my tongue flat against the bottom of his tip, he let out a loud curse, followed by a mess of groans and moans as he came on the wet softness of my tongue.

He panted, begging for air as he watched it pool on my tongue. I held it on display for him as he quickly tucked himself away, making quick glances to the crowd’s noises. His eyes silently begged for me to swallow him, going wide in anticipation. 

I dramatically swallowed his spend, letting him hear the gulp sound.

“I don’t deserve you.” He said matter-of-factly, pulling me to my feet. “I gotta get you home..” He trailed off, speaking to himself as he quickly walked us to the car. 🕷 Halfway through the drive home, his hand on my thigh started exploring more, gradually going higher.

“Bet y’re so wet.” He groaned in admittance to his thoughts, letting his fingers brush against my panties and confirming his suspicions. “That from blowin’ me?” He tried to joke, but it didn’t land when all the air left his lungs and it came across like a desperate plea for validation.

“Course it is.” I responded back, biting my lip and trying not to squirm at his invasive touch as he groped what he could.

He let out a shaky exhale as he slid his hands through the waistband of the panties, his eyes kept flicking to me, glancing briefly before focusing on the road. In the middle of the city, this would not be the place to lose attention.

He ran his index and middle finger up and down the wetness briefly before pushing them in, inwardly cursing at himself when he felt the wetness swallow him.

“Such a perfect pussy.” He praised. “Love fuckin’ this pussy, love how it clenches around me, jus’ like that.”

I covered my mouth with my hand and looked out the window, squirming under his touch and biting back any sounds that threatened to leave my mouth.

“Babyy..” He cooed.

“What?” I hesitantly responded, turning to him.

“Make them pretty noises f’me.”

“Hobie, we’re.. Mhm.. Focus on the road.” I answered, stifling moans. He spoke sweetly and adoringly, as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside of me.

“‘M gonna fuck y’brains out.” He said bluntly despite how loving it sounded. “Bet y’re gonna make a mess all over m’carseat, yeah?” He commented, fingering at a steady pace.

I tried to close my legs around his hand but it was useless, I turned away from him again, hiding my flushed face. “Hobie..” I whined, grabbing his hand. “An alleyway is one thing, but in the car is another.”

“What? Scared some fans might come up to the window?” He teased, struggling to keep his eyes on the road. The city was packed full of fans, walking around post-show, and every now and then, he’d be recognised through the car window.

I helplessly tried to grind against his hand, chasing the orgasm, however he halted the moments, using his elbow to push me into the seat and stop moving around.

“Relax. I’ll be good to you.”

“I know.”

“Are you gonna let y’self go?” He spoke sweetly, continuing his actions.

There was a moment of silence where all that filled the air was desperate pants as he did what he wanted. He carefully drove through the streets as if nothing was happening, completely as oblivious as the outside world.

I grabbed at his hands, lifting my hips for a better angle and glancing out the window. “So many people are staring at us.”

“They ain’t got a clue, love.” He responded with a cocky tone. “Y’re fuckin’ y’self on my hands, but y’still worried about someone catching you?”

“Shut up..” I mumbled, still looking out the window to avoid his gaze as I tried to ride his fingers in the small amount of room I had to move.

“Speak up.” He spoke, doubling his efforts. “Look at me, pretty girl.”

I finally turned to him, resting against the headrest, he was trying to keep eye contact while also driving safely. “The road.” I spoke through stifled moans.

“Y’really gonna take away the best part of this f’me?” He joked, keeping his attention on the road. “I gotta see y’cum or gotta hear it. Which one, darlin’?”

“Fuck, Hobie.” I finally moaned out after denying it to myself (and him); “You’re so annoying.” I laughed softly, though the laugh ended quickly as another moan escaped my lips.

“Can’t take y’seriously right now.” He joked back.

“Eyes forward.”

“Look at you, takin’ my fingers so damn well.” He praised, keeping his elbow pressed against my stomach, limiting my squirming. He wanted complete control over how I’d take him. He kept his eyes glued to the road, letting his mind wander as my sounds filled his ears.

“God, how are your hands that fucking good?”

“They were made for you.” He purred, an intoxicating sweetness to his words as he toyed with me. “Also, playing guitar helps.”

“Close.” I moaned. “Hate those stupid hands.”

“Can feel it. Can feel how much y’love ‘em.”

He paused, the car stopping at the redlight. “Hobes, please.” I whined, careful of bypassers, knowing that anyone could recognise us.

“Y’right there, darlin’, go on, baby.” He beckoned sweetly, I clenched around him and a low growl dragged from his throat. “Calm down a li’l, thought y’didn’t want anyone to see?”

He watched intently, his mouth falling agape, wanting to take in every detail on how I unwound with him fucking me in his carseat. It was a sight that he’d print onto the back of his eyelids. 

“Shit, right there—” I cried out, feeling it hit me fast and hard. I writhed against his hands in the car seat, praying that I wasn’t making a mess like he predicted. I rode it out as best I could, grinding helplessly.

“That’s it.. Always so pretty f’me.”

He pulled his fingers out, sticking them between his lips and tasting the sweetness as I covered myself, pulling my skirt down to be decent. 

“Y’taste so damn good.”

“That was..” I hummed, he leant over the console, pressing a kiss on my lips and placing his hand back on my thigh.

“I know.” He smiled, his eyes glancing to the window.

There was a knock on the window and he smiled at them. My eyes went wide and my cheeks flushed. “Oh my god.” I mumbled.

He rolled the window down in the console, leaning over me to talk to the fan. The light stayed red with a long line of traffic ahead of us. I covered my face with my hand, resting my elbow on the car door, watching them interact.

They talked for a small moment and I felt the embarrassment rise in my chest. “Hobie, the lights green.” I mumbled, nudging him.

“Of course.” He smiled sweetly, waving goodbye to the fan and pulling away. The interaction ended shortly, and he nudged me as he leant back in his seat. “Y’re so red.” He laughed.

“How aren’t you mortified?”

“I don’t have stage fright.” He winked.