#but not from the trauma of such a dream as one would expect. oh no. i'm sobbing into my pillow at 5am bc it was all just a dream and my dog | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

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First Time (18+)

Bayverse!Donatello x reader

A/N: Damn, I think this is my longest one ever. Big time Donnie love!💜

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Donatello is more than a little nervous about the thought of having sex with you, not trusting his own abilities, but with some reassurance and guidance from you, he rises to the occasion.

Warnings: A more angsty build up that I had planned, unprotected sex, Donnie having his first time with you💜

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To say that Donatello was an amazing boyfriend, wasn’t enough to do him justice. He was fantastic! The sweetest and most genuine guy you had ever met. He was attentive and treated you well. Sure, he might be a mutant turtle that lived in the sewer, yet he was the best boyfriend you had ever had. Whether that spoke of your former poor taste in guys, or just the general low bar for human men you did not know. But you knew for a fact that Donatello was one of the best things that had ever happened in your life.

Donatello would say the exact same thing about you. You were not just the best thing that had ever happened to him, but a dream come true. Before meeting you, he had never actually believed that he would get to experience something so good. Just as he had accepted his fate as a lonely mutant turtle that would spend his days alone in hiding with his brothers, you came along and changed his life for good.

The friendship the two of you shared was just what you needed. You may not fully understand everything Donnie had going on inside his lab, but you listened nonetheless, finally giving a much needed ear to his thoughts and inventions. He in turn provided you with a safe space to go to, whenever your life became a little too much.

During those years of friendship you and Donnie grew close in ways none of you had experienced before. Not even his brothers could read him as well as you did, and you in turn had never thought that anyone would understand you as well as Donnie did. So therefore it was only expected that stronger feelings would blossom.

When you and Donnie started dating, it felt natural. Just like your first kiss. It just came naturally to the two of you. No grad gestures and no confusion. Both you and Donnie knew what it meant, and you were just happy to be with someone that understood you so well.

But if there was one thing that didn’t come as naturally to you and Donnie, it was sex. Actually, it didn’t come naturally to Donnie. You didn’t blame him. The poor guy had lived most of his life, convincing himself that sex would never be something he would get to experience. So when you and Donnie started dating and kissing, and the first thought of sex came up, Donnie started overthinking. You were a human that had had sexual experiences with other humans before, and he was a mutant turtle who had his hand as the closest thing to a former sexual partner.

It didn’t mean that Donatello didn’t want sex, because oh boy, did he want to! He was just nervous. Really nervous. It was almost nerve racking to believe that he could actually have sex, let alone with someone as beautiful as you. And you understood. You really did. You took the time to sit with him and talk it through, making sure he felt heard and comfortable, especially talking about a subject like that. What did he feel? What did he fear? What was he excited about?

Other than the general confusion and trauma that came from accepting your fate of loneliness, you learned that Donatello feared not the action of sex itself, but how he would act. More specifically, he was nervous and overthinking, because he did not know what to do. Where should he put his hands? What was he supposed to say? And the thought that haunted him the most; if he didn’t do good, would you leave him? All very valid fears for a mutant turtle, who did not even dare to dream of being with a human.

You took Donnie’s hands in yours and told him it was okay. He was allowed to be nervous and overthink, and he was allowed to not know what to do. You told him that you loved him, and you wouldn’t leave him if he didn’t make you feel good the first time, nor the time after that. Humans too would be nervous before their first time, and it was very normal not to be satisfied the first time.

And after that conversation, you and Donnie slowly started preparing for your first time together. With Donnie being a totally different species than you, he started preparing you for what you could expect. He told you where his cloaca was located and how it worked, along with other parts of the turtle anatomy you may or may not have known already. You in turn did the same. You told him where humans liked to be touched and answered his questions about human anatomy. And it calmed Donnie down. It calmed him down enough, to the point he dared to ask if he could touch your breast.

The make out session that came from that, was one unlike any you ever had had with Donatello. With his hands groping your breast, you were at a shock of naturally good your sweet tech boyfriend was at this. You had expected him to be more unsure, but you soon learned that when he had the confidence he could do anything. Making you moan against his lips while he played with your nipples, this guy did not know what talent he possessed.

This unlocked a new area of your relationship, that you and Donatello carefully explored. Make out sessions became more common, with hands exploring and building up the courage, going a little further each time, until one night Donnie told you he wanted to try.

“Are you sure?”, you asked. You were sitting in his room, you in his lap with your arms around his neck, still breathing heavily after the heated kiss the two of you had just shared. One of his hands was in the back of your neck, playing with your hair, while the other rested on your ass, squishing you through your pants.

“I’m sure”, Donnie answered, watching you through hooded eyes. The hand on the back of your neck crept to the side of your face, letting Donnie’s thumb glide across the corner of your mouth. “I really want to try”.

You nodded your head, biting your lip with a smile, before letting Donnie close the space between you once more. Your lips dancing together as your tongues slowly found each other, letting a small moan escape you, as you felt the vibrating churr being in Donnie’s chest. You had heard that sound quite a few times now, and each time you loved it more and more.

Your hands moved from Donnie’s neck, and down to the top of his plastron, enjoying the feeling of his vibrating chest through your fingers. You moved your lips to his chin, making your to his neck, feeling the hand on your ass pull you closer. Donnie’s breathing was heavy, his chest moving as he felt you work your lips around his neck.

Donnie’s hands found your waist, dipping under your shirt to feel the warmth of your smooth skin against his rough palms. You took this as a sign, removing your lips from Donnie’s neck to take off your shirt. This made Donnie move his hands to your breast, palming them through your bra as you reached back to unhook it. The breathy curse that left Donnie’s mouth once your bra was off, went straight to your core, making you clench around empty air. And Donnie could smell it. The scent of your arousal was strong, making him slightly dizzy.

Donnie nuzzled his head against your neck, pressing kisses against your skin like you had done to him, enjoying every sound that left your mouth and the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. His hands moved from your breast to your pants, where he tried to undo them, only to grow frustrated at the small buttons in his big fingers.

“Want me to take them off?”, you asked, gliding a hand up his neck.

“Please”, Donnie answered, bringing your hips close to him once more.

Donatello watched, with his head resting on your shoulder, through the valley between your breasts, as you undid your pants. Once you got them past your waits he helped you, sliding them off of your legs before throwing them somewhere in his room, leaving you in nothing but underwear on his lap.

“Shit”, he moaned, his heart raising once more as yet another wave of your arousal hit his nose, stronger than before. He hooked his thumbs into the straps of your underwear, his eyes finding yours to ask for permission. Breathless you nodded, lifting your hips to make it easy for him to pull your damp underwear down your legs.

The sight of you naked on Donnie’s lap was enough to make him moan. Your cheeks were already getting pink, and your pupils were just as blown out as his. The best way Donatello could describe the sight in front of him was; hot. So fucking hot.

He kneeled your hips, biting his lips before he asked; “Can I… Will you show me… Will you let me finger you?”

Once again, Donnie’s words went straight between your legs. The way he looked at you and the way he spoke. Needy and so ready to try. You loved every second of it.

“Of course you can”, you answered him, before bringing him in for another needy kiss. You took one of his hands in yours, guiding it down between your legs, helping one of his fingers glide through your folds, letting him feel the wetness that had built up. Donnie shivered, letting a whimper against your lips. You couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling from his lips, finding his reaction adorable.

“You feel that?”, you asked him, letting his finger glide through once more. Donnie nodded, letting out a small shuttering yes. “That’s all because of you, Donnie”. Your boyfriend cursed once more, his face showing frustration and absolute bliss.

You moved his thumb to your clit, guiding him on how to circle his finger around your small bundle of nerves.

“Like this?”, Donnie asked, watching your facial expression as he worked his fingers on you.

“Yes”, you breathed out, arching your back enjoying the feeling of his thick thumb on you. “Just like that, Donnie”.

Donatello bite his lip, watching your face closely, while remembering the things you had told him about the human body. How humans liked to be touched. How you liked to be touched. And with that thought in mind he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you close and still, while his index finger glided through your folds once more, before finding your entrance. He slowly pushed his finger in, sighing in delight at how tight you felt around his finger. You moaned, leaning your head back, happy that Donnie had wrapped his hand around to stabilize you.

“Fuck, Donnie”, you moaned, feeling how his finger went further in.

“Is it good?”, he asked, brows knotting together, biting his lips as he felt the familiar feeling from his cloaca, threatening to let dick drop.

“Yes, Donnie”, you moaned, your legs shaking against his. “Please, move them Donnie. Like this”. You held up your hand, showing your boyfriend how to move his fingers inside you. Donnie nodded, doing just as you showed him, moving his fingers in and out of you while his thumb rolled against your clit. You moaned, dropping your head against Donnie’s shoulder. He moved his fingers faster, feeling you move and shake against him, every moan from your mouth sounding like sweet music in his ears. He continued like this, feeling you tighten around his finger, your climax inching closer and closer until you came around his fingers with a loud moan.

When Donnie removed his fingers from your used cunt, he could not resist the urge to bring them to his mouth, sucking them off in front of you. The look in your eyes and the way you smelled told him everything he needed to know. You enjoyed it. All of it. He brought your lips back to his, your tongues finding each other. You moaned at the slight taste of you in his mouth.

Donnie pulled from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, listening to your heavy breathing, feeling it against his face. “Can I do it?”

“Do what, Donnie?”, you asked, your hands smoothing over his shoulders and biceps.

“Can I fuck you?”

You nodded, too stunned to speak. Once again, you had not expected Donatello to be so straight forward, having thought he would be way more shy.

Donnie took your lips in for another kiss while he slowly laid you down on your back. Once your back was flat against the mattress, he started moving his clothed crotch against you, moaning against your lips as he felt himself getting closer to his drop. You whimpered against his lip, almost begging him to take his pants off. Finally he sat up and undid his pants in full view of you. He pulled his pants off along with his boxers, before climbing back on top of you, feeling your legs close around him the best they could, bringing his cloaca to meet your wet center.

“Can I drop into you?”, Donnie asked, his lips ligering against yours, his hands moving from your hips, up your sides to your shoulder, bringing you closer to him.

“Yes, Donnie”, you moaned, buckling your hips against his, causing him to moan, feeling himself tipping on the edge before finally dropping down in front of your entrance. To his surprise, you were the one to move your hand down between the two of you, taking his cock in your hand moving it to your opening before pushing it in closely.

Donatello moaned, his head falling down beside yours, your cunt hugging him tightly as he sunk further in. You kissed the side of his face, whispering sweet nothing as he sunk in as far as he could. He stayed there for a moment, letting you and himself adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. You were a tight fit for him, but he couldn’t deny it felt good.

“Donnie, please move”, you moaned, moving your hips under him. Donnie wrapped an arm under your shoulder so he could bring you even closer to you, resting his forehead against yours once more as he slowly began to move, moaning and cursing in delight over the feeling.

His thrusts started out slow and soft, until you told him it was okay to go harder and faster, to which Donnie obliged. He cursed, one of his hands grabbing on to the bedding beside your head, enjoying this knew feeling around his cock.

“Fuck”, he breathed into your ear, causing tingles to erupt in your stomach. “It feels good, (Y/N). Fucking good”.

Your hand found his face, stroking his cheek making him look you in the eye. The sigh was enough to make both of you shiver.

“Wanna go faster?”, you asked him. Donnie nodded, his lips slightly agasp. “Go as fast as you want to. Fuck me as fast as you want, Donnie”.

And that was all your boyfriend needed. Every trace of nervousness Donnie had showed you during your first conversation about sex disappeared, leaving behind what you could only describe as a feast for the eyes. Donnie was concentrated, his brows frowning, his pupils wide as his muscles flexed before he let loose against you. You gasped and moaned loud, grabbing onto Donnie’s shoulders as he thrusted faster and harder into you. He was rougher than you had thought he would be, but you found it to be a pleasant surprise.

But then Donnie did something you never saw coming for his first time. He took one of your legs, hooking it over his arm before thrust into you even deeper than before. This new angle caused you to arch your back in ecstasy, as he continuously hit the sweet spot inside of you. It didn’t take long like this, before you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach as you clung closer around Donnie.

“Donnie!”, you moaned out, your pitch higher than he ever had heard it before, making him growl in delight. “Donnie, I’m close!”

Donnie did not answer you. Instead he dipped his head down to your neck, where he started nipping at your skin, his hips working against you like a piston. He wanted you to cum around him, washing away every fear he ever had about not making you feel good. And you knew. You knew your boyfriend, and you knew what he was thinking. And as he started groaning and biting your earlobe, you couldn’t hold back anymore, almost screaming his name as you came for him once more.

Donnie moved both hands down to your hips, holding you still as he started chasing his own high, helping you ride out your own in the meantime. As he moaned louder and louder as he got close, his thrust became more and more erratic. Finally he came, pushing himself all the way into you as he shot out his white ropes, letting out a moan better than porn star you ever heard.

Once down from his high, Donnie pulled out of you, before slumping down next to you, sweaty and out of breath, his dick still out in the open.

He looked at you, his eyes tired yet full of love, making you feel warm in so many ways. “Was it good?”

“Are you crazy?”, you asked, smiling brighter than any stare Donnie had seen. “It was amazing, Donnie!”

Donnie chuckled, wrapping an arm around you to pull you close against his plastron, giving you a kiss before resting his forehead against yours once more, a smirk spreading on his pretty lips. “Does that mean you’re up for another around after a quick nap?”

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agent-grey-fics · 3 months

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Oh, I love it and hate it at the same time. - Finnick Odair

Pairing: Finnick Odair x fem reader Wordcount: 6k pure filth

Warnings: porn without a polt, filth, drugs, mentioning of prostitution, sex, mental breakdown Summary: Finnick and y/n both won their games and when they returned home it became clear that they were puppets in Snow's hands. They’re the same, something they love and hate at the same time.

AN: This is pure filth, you're welcome.

A victor. That’s what you are.

A victor of a game you never wanted to play in the first place. When you got reaped at the age of fifteen you never imagined getting out alive, you thought that you would get killed in the first couple of days by one of the careers. But the usual alliances never formed, the careers started killing each other off by day three and the odds ended up being in your favour after all. You were the victor of the 67th Hunger Games and became a Capitol favourite. Not that you won much. You got PTSD and woke up almost every night screaming bloody murder because of the flashbacks that haunted your dreams. That was the life of a victor. Well not only the haunting dreams but you were also expected to show your face at the presidential balls organised by Snow in the capital. It was no secret that he played the victors as puppets and used them in any way he pleased. That’s how you ended up on the dancefloor with a middle-aged man whose hands kept creeping lower and lower on your back. That’s what you hated the most. They made you a killer and when you got out you weren’t free at all. They promised you a life full of prosperity and serenity in the victor's village back home in District 5 but it was all a lie. You had your peace for three weeks, four tops, but after your victor's tour Snow invited you for a chat in his office and you finally realised you were on this train forever. He made it clear that you were his property from now on and that he could use you as he pleased.

The guy you were dancing with was one of Snow’s associates, he was surprisingly friendly. Most of them didn’t treat you as a person, you were just a warm and desirable body for them to use as they pleased. You let your eyes wander over the dancefloor when all of a sudden they locked with a familiar green pair. Finnick gave you his famous cheeky smile but it didn’t reach his eyes, they had a sad tone to them. That’s when you noticed the lady on his arm, another Capotil elite. You gave him a small smile. The two of you were caught in the same trap, he a bit longer than you were. You met him at the end of your Victor's tour, after your chat with Snow. Finnick asked you to dance and while he spun you around the floor he warned you for the president and made sure you understood the danger. After that day he started looking out for you. The two of you stuck together, tried to save each other as much as possible and looked after one another. He became your safe haven. The capitol wondered out loud what kind of relationship their favourite victors had. They speculated that they spend their nights together in his bed. Even after it became public that they both had multiple lovers, the gossip continued. You did share his bed but not in the way they expected. You shared it when both of you were lonely, longing for loving touches instead of hungry ones. You could count the times you’ve kissed on one hand and never went further than that. You always wondered how it would be if the two of you had a normal Victors’ life. Would you have met during the next games as mentors and become friends? Would you be as close as you were now? You would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to the male Victor, but it went beyond his good looks. The two of you just clicked, probably because of the shared trauma but there was so much more to him. He was kind, warm and loyal. He would do anything to protect the ones he loved. Finnick was just Finnick, he was one of a kind.

‘Don’t you agree Miss Green?’ The man's lips almost touched your ear and a shudder ran down your spine. ‘I’m sorry sir, could you repeat that please?’ You averted your gaze from Finnick so you could look at your client. His laughter roared deep in his chest as he saw your confused expression. ‘I said that this party was getting boring and that we should go back to my place.’ Your heart dropped when you heard his proposition. ‘Is it okay that I go to the bathroom quickly and that we leave afterwards?’ He nodded. ‘Sure, I’ll wait for you in the foyer.’ With a small smile, you made your way across the room. Some partygoers greeted you as you passed them by. When you stood in the bathroom you slammed the door shut as you tried to calm yourself down. ‘Come on y/n, you’ve done this a million times. It’s just another guy and it’s just sex. You will be out of there in no time’ you mumbled to yourself as you stared at your reflection in the mirror whiles you fished a little baggy out of your bra. Another side effect of the games was your drug dependency. It started as a medical treatment to keep you sane but now all you wanted was to forget the games and their hands touching your skin.

After swallowing the pill you waited a couple of minutes until you felt the familiar haze creeping into your system. You washed your hands and walked out without paying attention to where you were walking. You bumped into a tall person, their hands encircling your waist to prevent you from falling to the ground. “Shit, sorry.’ When you looked up you were greeted by the sea-green eyes you learned to love. ‘Oh Finnick, hi.’ He gave you one of his dashing grins when he saw the shock on your face. ‘You’re leaving with him?’ A soft sigh left your lips. ‘One of Snow’s associates.’ He nodded understandingly grin still on his lips but that faded when he saw your dilated pupils. ‘Are you kidding me y/n? You’re high right now?’ You took a step back and shrugged your shoulders. ‘You’re high all of the time, so it’s really not your place to tell me what I can do and what not.’ Finnick knew that the two of you were in the same boat, being sold to the highest bidders and you both had developed your own coping mechanisms along the way. ‘Never whiles I’m on the job.’ It was a mumble when it left his lips and he gave you an accusing look. ‘Yeah sorry Finn but I cannot do this sober. I should get back, let me pass please.’ Finnick dropped his head as he took a step aside to let you pass. ‘Text me when you’re done? I’ll pick you up so you don’t need to stay over.’ You just nodded as you brushed past him so you could get to the foyer. ‘There you are, ready to go?’ A fake smile found its way to your lips as you nodded your head. ‘Let’s go.’

Most of the time they took you to fancy hotels so their partners didn’t find out about their little affairs but he took you home. When you walked into his flat it was striking how neat his place was, you weren’t expecting this. There were pictures of groups of smiling people, holding champagne flutes and landscapes. He was wealthy, hence the penthouse and the ultra-modern design of the place. ‘What did you say your job was again?’ He had talked about boring meetings and how the dance was a much-welcome distraction. ‘Military detail.’ You jumped a little when you heard how close he was. ‘Right, sorry it was a busy night.’ His hands were on you before you could finish your sentence, tracing soft circles on your hips. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ His hands spun you around and he planted his lips on yours. Throughout the years you learned that the more you fought the harder it was, so you just went along with his moves. You hoped that you could get out of this place soon.

02:45 Can you come to get me? - y/n

You texted Finnick fifteen minutes ago with your location attached after you told the client you didn’t stay over. He offered to drive you home but you said it was okay. When you walked out of the apartment complex you noticed Finnicks bike, of course he rode his motor here instead of his car. He held a spare helmet out and you took it without saying a word. The two of you had established this relationship where you showed up but didn’t ask questions. As you swung your leg over the passenger seat you mumbled a small thanks. He sped away, the wind gave you goosebumps but so you pulled yourself even closer to Finnick. You had your arms tightly wrapped around his waist as a support so you didn't fall off. He placed one of his hands on yours as the two of you rode through the night. The ride back to your place took you less than ten minutes. You were standing in front of your small studio, looking for your keys. Finnick leaned nonchalantly against the wall next to you. ‘You know who that was, right?’ You just shrugged your shoulders. ‘Some military guy, didn’t pay too much attention.’ A soft laugh escaped his lips. ‘He’s head of the peacekeepers and Snow’s personal security personnel.’ ‘Oh.’ You finally opened your door and walked in, Finnick following close behind. ‘I’m gonna take a shower, please stay?’ He nodded as he made himself comfortable on your couch, kicking his shoes off. ‘I know the drill.’ The roles had been reversed hundreds of times when he was a mess and you had to put him back together. You immediately turned o the shower when you entered the bathroom, the water as hot as you could handle so it would burn the feeling of his wandering fingers away. The clothes you wore were thrown in a pile on the floor and you looked at your body in the mirror, bruises started to form on your thighs. At least it wasn’t in plain sight. When the water made contact with your body it stung a bit, but after a while it was a pleasant feeling. You washed your hair and body with a sandalwood-smelling shampoo and body wash and thirty minutes later you walked back into your living room where Finnick was flipping through tv channels, long shirt covering the black sleep shorts you were wearing. He patted the cushion next to him, signalling for you to sit down. The blissful haze you fell a couple of hours ago was wairing off and your hands were trembling a bit. ‘It’s getting late, I would rather go to bed.’ You mumbled as you pointed over your shoulder to your small bedroom. ‘Sure, whatever you want honey.’ He reached for his shoes to put them back on and leave you alone, you looked exhausted. ‘No stay please, I don’t want to be alone tonight.’ He didn’t say anything when he got up out of his seat, when he passed you by towards your room he grabbed your hand so he could pull you along. You immediately crawled into your bed and left the covers open for Finnick who was taking off his clothes so he could slip into the pyjamas he kept at your place. When he stood at the side of your bed he just saw the broken girl he met after her games when she first came out of the arena. The girl he nursed back to life to the best of his abilities. You looked so broken and small.

Your back was turned towards him when you felt the bed dipping in next to you. ‘Come here,’ he mumbled whiles he threw an arm across your waist pulling you into his chest. A shaky breath left your lips as you felt his body heat against your skin. You turned around in his hold so you could face him. ‘Finnick I don’t know how long I can keep doing this. The appearances at the parties I can handle, I can pretend to be happy to be there but the sleeping around with half of the Capitol’s elite is killing me.’ Tears welt up in your eyes and your vision got blurry. ‘You know what happens if we stop, you saw what they did to Johanna.’ She was the victor of the 71st Hunger Games and her entire family was murdered when she refused to be Snow’s puppet. ‘My family doesn’t even want to see me anymore, they think I’m some cheap whore.’ It was true, They were embarrassed for you when you visited them since your whole life was smeared on TV and in the tabloids. Everyone knew what you were doing but they didn't know why you were doing it. That didn't matter to them, they had already decided who you were. ‘He already took everything away from me.’ He gently rubbed your back, a comforting gesture. ‘They just don’t know what’s going on.’ You pressed your cheek against his chest while you sneaked your arm around his waist. ‘We’re going to be ok y/n, we’ll be ok.’

A week had passed since Finnick had spent the night at your place, you hadn’t heard from him since. It wasn’t unusual, the two of you needed space and alone time as well. You had spent the last hour on your makeup and hair since you were expected at a party again when your phone lit up with a text.

08:15 Need a ride? - F

You replied a simple yes, knowing that he would show up within the next fifteen minutes. Tonight you were invited just as a guest, no clients or hidden agendas. Just you and Finnick socialising with the elites as usual. As you stood in front of the mirror in your room there was a knock at the door. ‘The door’s open Finn!’ You yelled back while you fixed the straps of your dress. You decided to wear a red floor-length dress with small spaghetti straps, it was a simple look but you were in love with the gown. ‘Y/n, are you ready to go?’ He turned around the corner when he saw you standing in front of the mirror and let out a wolf whistle. ‘Too much?’ He shook his head. ‘No, just enough you look great.’ A smile spread across your lips as you took his own appearance. ‘You look not too bad yourself either.’ It was a joke, he looked handsome and he knew he did. He gave you a wink as he stretched his hand out towards you. ‘Let’s get the gossip mill going again.’ You shook your head as a laugh rolled off your lips. ‘Yeah let’s go.’ Finnick’s driver dropped the two of you off at the entrance of the mansion where the party took place. The stairs towards the house were packed, some of them turning their heads as they saw the two of you arrive. ‘Let’s give them something to talk about, shall we?’ With those words he slid his arm around your middle, placing his hand on the small of your back so he could guide you through the mass. You could feel their gazes burning on your skin as the two of you made your way towards the entrance of the building. You said your hello’s too familiar faces and plastered a smile on your lips. When you were inside Finnick walked in front of you whiles he grabbed one of your hands in his as he pulled you along. ‘What do you want to drink?’ He came to a stop at the beverage table. The table looked like a full-on bar with fancy drinks on display. ‘Something strong, need to be tipsy as soon as possible.’ Finnick reached for two tequila-based cocktails and handed one to you. ‘There you go, love.’ You took a sip and pulled a shocked face, those were strong. The two of you walked to the entrance of the main room so you could take a look at all those who were attending. Without thinking about it, he put an arm around you, his hand resting on your hip and you leaned into his touch. ‘What was the party for again?’ You asked him. Finnick had always been better at these events, he always knew who was hosting and what the occasion was. ‘The oldest daughter of the Pierces and the second eldest son of the Oakleys are engaged, so their parents threw an engagement party.’ You nodded as you remembered when you heard his words. ‘Right.’ His thumb traced small circles over the dress’s fabric at your hip and you were wondering if he was doing it on purpose. ‘They will gossip no matter what we’re doing so you don’t have to give a big performance,’ You joked as you nudged his side softly. ‘Mh?’ For a minute you thought that he didn’t know what he was doing but then you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘Finnick Odair, unbelievable.’ A hoarse laugh left his lips before he took another sip of the drink in his hand.

‘What do you think of a dance?’ He looked down at you, waiting for your answer. ‘Yeah sure, but I was hoping for more than one tho.’ Finnick emptied his glass and you followed his lead, pulling a face when the alcohol burned down your throat. ‘You have my undivided attention all night Miss Green.’ You rolled your eyes at his comment as you pushed him in front of you. ‘If you say so Odair.’ Once the two of you found a place on the dancefloor he pulled you in by your hips taking one hand in his and started slowly swaying to the music. You placed your cheek against his chest and let him lead as you closed your eyes. His heartbeat pounded softly in your ear. Finnick lowered his head so he could whisper in your ear. ‘They are all staring.’ A small smile spread across your lips as his warm breath tickled your skin. You lifted your head from his chest and looked around, they indeed were eying the two of you. You could almost see the wheels spinning in their heads trying to figure out what you guys were to each other. ‘You wanted to give them a show.’ He rolled his eyes and a laugh left his lips. ‘I’m not complaining, I just warned you about what’s happening.’ You shrugged your shoulders. It was in these moments that you felt free and normal. Just a girl dancing with a guy she liked. He softly stroked a lost strand of hair behind your ear, it was such an intimate feeling that it made you blush. ‘Did I make the Miss Green blush?’ He had this cocky grin on his lips when he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘Oh shut up Finnick.’ As the song ended the two of you found your way back to the bar, going for shots of tequila this time.

The more alcohol flowed the more handsy you both became, not that you minded. By two in the morning, Finnick had your back pressed flush against his front and moved his hips along with yours to the rhythm of the music, hands roaming your body at the same time. You had thrown one arm back around his neck pulling him closer. You knew what they say, ‘Tequila is nasty but after a few shots, so am I’ and you definitely were far past acting descent and composed. But you weren’t the only ones, the dancefloor was packed with grinding couples who could not keep their hands off each other. Your little performance ran out of hand. Maybe you should have stopped after the fifth shot of tequila but you had gotten carried away. At one point Finnick had placed the lemon wedge between your lips and almost kissed you when he took it out of your mouth with his own lips. You had not meant to be glued against each other in the middle of the dance floor but there you were. Finnick leaned down and placed a trail of soft kisses on your jawline. ‘Mh, Finn maybe we should go home. I think you made your point clear and gave them a show.’ A chuckle left his lips and he spun you around in his arms. You weren't sure how much of tonight was staged and what was real but you hadn’t had this much fun in a long time, that’s for sure. He clasped his hands together behind your back and you swung yours around his neck. ‘Do you wanna go?’ You nodded. ‘Okay let’s go then.’ Once again he took one of your hands into his and started guiding you towards the exit before you were stopped by a middle-aged guy. ‘Y/n, do you have one more dance in you for me?’ He had this grin on his face that made you shiver, not in a good way. ‘Sorry mate we’re just leaving.’ Finnick spoke for you as he saw the hesitation in your eyes. ‘Oh come, you had her all night Odair let the others also have some fun.’ He stepped in front of you, shielding you from the guy. ‘I said that we’re going, so back off okay?’ Finnick spoke, his words laced with a threatening undertone. Everyone in his right mind would back off, he was one of the most deathly tributes the capitol had ever seen, crazily skilled in hand-to-hand combat. The other guy eyed him up and down and he then shifted his gaze towards you. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. ‘Finn let’s go.’ You softly pulled Finnick back indicating you wanted to leave as soon as possible. His hand tensed in yours and squeezed your fingers as he turned away from the guy, ready to leave. ‘Whatever dude, everyone already had her.’ Before you could say something, before you could pull him back, Finnick had spun around and his fist made contact with the guy's jaw. He almost stumbled to the floor when he got punched. ‘You fucking asshole.’ Several shocked gasps were audible all around you. No one expected the Capitol's favourite to lose his temper like this, he was known for keeping his composure in public. ‘Finninck!’ You stepped forward and clung to his arm in an attempt to hold him back. The man clutched his jaw in surprise as if he had not seen the blow coming at all. ‘If I ever see you near her again or even hear you talking about her I’ll fucking kill you, understand?’ All he could do was nod, still not getting what just happened. ‘Finnick let’s go.’ You urged as you saw people pooling around the scene you just caused. As he turned around and started walking away he pulled you behind him by your hand. It was because he was drunk otherwise, he would never have thrown that punch you thought to yourself. The alcohol was the only explanation. ‘Guess the rumours are true then, he’s sleeping with her.’ You heard a girl say to her friend when the two of you passed them.

Once you were finally outside, he let go of your hand and went through his hair in frustration. ‘Fuck.’ he grumbled to himself. What the fuck just happened? You opened your mouth to say something but quickly shut it again when you didn’t know what you wanted to say. Snow was going to make you pay for this, you just knew it. Finnick’s driver drove the car out front and opened the door of the back seat. Finnick got into the car without saying a word and kept silent the whole drive back to his place. When the car stopped in front of his building and he got out, you stayed put expecting that Finnick didn’t want you there at the moment. When you didn’t follow him out he gave you a confused look. ‘Get out of the car y/n, I’m not letting you spend the night alone at your place after what just happened.’ You were still confused but you did as you were told and climbed out of the car. Finnick said a thank you to the driver and started walking towards the entrance of his building. It was one of the most modern places you had ever seen, you needed a keycard to enter the building and a code for the elevator since they went straight into his living room on the top floor. He got everything he wanted because he was so loved by the Capitol, he was their golden boy.

As the two of you stepped into the elevator he only needed a second to push you up against the wall. A small gasp left your lips at his sudden movements. He didn’t give you any time to react as he crashed his lips against yours, these weren’t the sweet touches he used to give you, this was pure anger. You kissed him back, placing your hands against his chest and parting your lips giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue in. Not even trying to gain dominance you let Finnick take the lead, almost melting under his touch. He only stopped kissing you when the elevator opened, ushering you out of the small box into his apartment. It gave you a couple of seconds to catch your breath, a heat rose to your cheeks when you realised what just had happened. But those few seconds were all you got because the moment your feet touched the wooden floor he spun you around and his lips found yours once again. The two of you started walking, you backwards as he guided you through his living room. ‘Finn, what are you-’ He didn’t give you the chance to finish your question as your back hit a wall. One of his legs came up between yours, hoisting up your dress as he spread them apart with his thick thigh. ‘I’m done playing his games.’ His lips found their way to your neck where he softly tucked at your skin. A moan left your lips when he found your sweet spot under your jaw. He sucked on the tender skin until it stung to then soothe it with his tongue. That was gonna bruise. ‘I’m done pretending to be ok when I see you with other people and pick you up afterwards. I don’t want the pieces, I want all of you.’ It took every ounce of self-control left in your body to pull away so you could look at him, placing your hands on both of his shoulders. ‘Finnick-,’ This wasn’t new, you had this kind of conversation before but he never said that he wanted you. You longed for him in a whole different than the Capitol did. You didn’t want him for his body, you wanted him for the man he was. He was kind, caring and loyal. He had this great sense of humour and would do anything to save the people he loved. ‘As you said, we cannot do this. Remember?’ He pressed his forehead against yours

He pressed his thigh firmer against your core and your breath hitched in your throat, you were dripping wet. You were already turned on the moment he had you flush against his chest on the dancefloor at the party. He softly bit your neck, making your head spin. ‘Finnick, we’ve been drinking-’ You were going to say that you didn’t know this was the right moment for this situation, heads being clouded by alcohol but he didn’t give you the chance. He pressed his lips full force against yours, not asking for permission as he forced his tongue inside your mouth. This was a mix of pure anger and lust, you had an idea where this came from but you were still not sure if it was because of you or if you were just at the right place at the right time. His hands found their way around your body and rested on your ass, softly squeezing and not giving you any time to second-guess the situation. He softly tucked at your lower lip when he pulled back. ‘You have no idea about all the things that I want to do to you, y/n.’ A small gasp left your lips when you felt his teeth graze your ear as he softly spoke, his voice more sensual than usual. You just gave in. Your body reacted before you could and without thinking you started rocking your hips over his thigh hoping to gain some friction between your legs, almost sure that you were going to stain his pants with your juices. Finnick smirked when he felt your movements and started guiding your hips over his leg while he pushed you down, creating more pressure. ‘C’mon baby, be a good girl and make yourself feel good.’ Your legs started to tremble as you rode his thigh, swinging one arm around his neck and placing the other hand on his hips to stabilize yourself. With a swift movement, he pulled your panties aside and watch how your pussy rubbed against his thigh. A pink blush rose to your cheeks when you saw the wet spot starting to form where your cunt touched his pants. ‘So wet and I haven’t touched you yet.’ He mumbled as he saw your juices on his thigh. ‘All for you Finn.’ His name rolled in a moan of your lips as you were getting to your high. ‘Were you already wet when we were dancing?’ He breathed in your ear, followed by his teeth scraping your neck. You nodded frantically. ‘Use your words.’ ‘Yes, yes. Fuck’ you threw your head back and screwed your eyes shut. ‘So desperate for a good fuck y/n?’ The way he was treading you combined with the sound of his voice made you only wetter. ‘Fuck Finn, I’m going to come just like this.’ A chuckle left his lips. ‘Look at me.’ You were chasing your high and ignored his order. When you didn’t comply he grabbed your chin and pinched lightly with his fingers, forcing your face down. ‘Look at me I said.’ His dominance excited you. ‘Sorry.’ You muttered and looked at him. His pupils were dilated and radiated pure lust. ‘Sorry who?’ ‘Sorry, sir.’ It rolled off your tongue without thinking twice about it. ‘Come for me’ After hearing those words the knot inside exploded, your orgasm washing over you like you never experienced before. Legs trembling and Finnick needed to support your upper body. This was pure filth and you were all for it. ‘Fuck.’ You tried to stop but Finnick kept pushing your hips in a grinding motion over his thigh. Your clit grazed over the fabric of his pants, it overstimulated you completely. 'Finn, stop too soon,' you muttered when you felt the knot in your lower abdomen tighten again. Tears began to sting your eyes when he didn't stop. ‘Ah, fuck.’ Your second orgasm came faster than you wanted. You pushed against Finnick's chest. 'Finn stop.' Tears streamed down your cheeks from the overstimulation. It was too much. ‘Are you going to let me fuck you like all of Snow's pawns?’ You nodded, that was all he needed. He took you in his arms in one smooth motion and walked toward his bed.

'On your knees.' You had never obeyed anyone so quickly. He placed his hand gently on your cheek and stroked your lips with his thumb. 'Are you going to be a good girl for me?' Your hands found their way to the button of his pants. In one swift movement, you undid them and pulled them down eagerly. Finnick followed your every move. His boxers quickly followed causing his cock to stand up proudly against his muscular stomach. You licked your lips. ‘You know what to do.’ You nodded. You took his member in your hand and pumped up and down a few times, his head looking painfully red as pre-cum glistened on it. You teased him by rubbing his head slowly with your thumb. Then you bent over, and with your outstretched tongue you licked a long line from his base to the tip. A hissing sound left his lips. ‘Stop teasing’. You pulled your lip over your teeth and took his cock in your mouth. Gently you moved up and down, building the tension. A blissful sigh left his lips. You relaxed your jaw and took his length as deep as you could in your mouth. His head pushed against the back of your throat eliciting a gag reflex. Finnick grabbed your hair with one of his hands and pushed against the back of your head as a sign to take him even deeper.

When you looked up through your eyelashes you saw that he had his head thrown back in delight, his mouth gently agape. A sense of pride spread through you. That you could make Finnick feel so good did something to you; it got even wetter between your legs. ‘Fuck y/n, keep going.’ He wrapped his hands around your neck and squeezed gently. He pushed his hips forward and began to fuck your mouth. Obscene sounds echoed in his bedroom. Your gurgling filled your ears and tears pricked your eyes. 'You look so good like that.' Your mascara by now had to hang everywhere as tears ran down your cheeks in thick drops, saliva running from your mouth. 'Almost there.' he growled between his teeth. He didn't want to admit it but seeing you sitting there made him even hornier and harder.

You didn't like to admit it but being degraded like that turned you on. You were super horny and couldn't stop your own hand. You slipped your hand into your panties and moved like crazy over your clit. You couldn't wait to bounce on his cock. A moan left your lips, the vibrations drove Finnick crazy and he began to pound even harder into your mouth. After he moaned your name, he squirted thick ropes of cum down your throat and mouth. With a plopping sound, you pulled your mouth off his cock and swallowed his cum obediently. 'Good girl. Now I know why they all want you.’ You had never been so submissive and it turned you on. ‘Please fuck me.’ It was pathetic, you were begging him to feel his cock inside you. You were still rubbing your clit and he noticed. ‘So desperate for my cock, aren't you?’. You nodded, knowing he was going to give you what you wanted: a good, rough fuck. He pulled you up and pushed you on his back. Your back hit the soft matras. ‘You're never going to want another cock again’ said Finnick with an arrogant grin on his face. ‘Stop teasing, just fuck me Finn.’ The message was clear. He took your leg and pushed it up so that it rested against his shoulder. Without warning, he pushed his cock into you all at once. ‘Fuck.’ You hissed as you clawed at his shoulders, trying to contain the overstimulation. ‘I want to be the only one who can give you this feeling.' He pounded into you at a gruelling pace. It hurt, but it was a pleasurable pain. A moan rolled over your lips. ‘They’ll never touch you again.’ he murmured hoarsely in your ear. You felt the knot in your lower abdomen begin to tighten again. Your walls pinched his cock; he was also near his climax again. ‘Say it.’ Your breath stuck in your throat. 'Fuck, Finn you can only t-' You couldn't hold it back anymore, your orgasm taking over your whole body. Your legs trembled a blissful feeling spread throughout your body ‘-touch me'. He growled approvingly. He lowered your leg but continued to thrust for his own orgasm. He found your neck and began sucking around your pulse point. He left marks, you just knew it.

He moaned your name and came inside you. He leaned his forehead against yours as he caught his breath. 'We'll figure this out.’

#finnick x reader #finnick odair #the hunger games #finnick x you #finnick imagine #finnick smut #Finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader

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fruity-mega-coconut69 · 1 year

Text

One More Chance

[pairings] : Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

[Summary]: You and Tara broke up after what happened, but multiple months later, she realizes what mistake she had made and try to fix it.

[Warnings]: Swearing, kissing, hooking-up

A/N: Wow, this turned out even shittier then i expected. But i'll post it anyway.

You and Tara were the perfect couple in Woodsboro high. Your friends supported you guys whenever. You were living your best life, it was like a dream. Until, it all turned into a nightmare. Tara was attacked by some psycho and you weren’t there. Later when you found out, you did not waste any time and ran to the hospital. There, you promised her that you will always be there to protect her.

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

And you are still there. But you can’t really make your whole life about her. It wasn’t fair. After she broke up with you, claiming that she needs some time, she still asked you to go to New York with her. Although you were a complete wreck, you tried helping her through the trauma.

On this specific day the whole group went out for a little time together. You guys are sitting in a lovely cafe, just talking. Well, most of you were. Tara and Chad were sitting beside each other, a little too close. Tara was looking up at Chad with a small twinkle in her eyes, as he was telling her some shit story about something. You looked away from them with a sigh.

‘I need some time’ my ass. She just wanted an excuse to break up with you. You put your coffee down and rub your face with your hands. You lean over to your new-found best friend and whisper to her.”I’m going to the bathroom” Quinn nods, but puts a hand on your arm to stop you. “Everything okay?” She asks with furrowed eyebrows.

You give her a quick smile and nod then get up and head towards the bathroom. As you get out of the stall you were in, you notice a woman standing in-front of the mirror, fixing her make-up. Going over to the sinks, you nod at her in a way of greeting her. She smiles at you then turns sideways to look at you.

“Are you alone here?” You look at her from the corner of your eye with a slight furrow in your brows, but shake your head nonetheless. “Oh, are you on a date?”

You finish washing your hands and take a piece of paper towel to dry them. “ No. I’m out with some friends, why?”

The woman takes a step towards you. She reaches into her purse and takes out a piece of paper and a pen. You tilt your head as she writes down something.”Well, I personally found you really….sexy and I'm in need of a good-time, so would you be up to it later tonight?” You purse your lips as you look down at the piece of paper with her number on it.

“I don’t even know your name.”

The woman chuckles.”Oh sorry, my bad. My name is Victoria. You?”

“Y/N” She hums and holds the paper out for you once more. Biting your lip, you hesitantly take the paper. Victoria smiles at you then heads towards the door.

Swallowing, you head out of the bathroom and back to your table. Sitting down beside Quinn with a smile on your face. She laughs at you. “What’s got you suddenly in a happy mood?”

You just hold the paper up to her face and she gasps. “Ooh, is she hot?”

“Very” You guys continue laughing as Tara’s attention is turned towards you. She bites the inside of her cheek as she notices the piece of paper with the number on it on the table.

— —

Later at home, you decide to dial Victoria’s number. It rings for a couple of seconds then her raspy voice answers. “Hello?”

“Uh, hi. I-it’s Y/N? From the cafe?”

“O, yeah. Hey, should I give you my address or….?” She trails off.

“Yours is fine. I have a couple of roommates.” You laugh lightly at the end of your sentence.

“Alright, see you in around a half an hour.” With that she hangs up and not even a minute later, you get a message with the address.

You get ready and head out. After about 15 minutes, you arrived at the address. Getting out of the taxi after paying, you go up to the door and ring the bell. Victoria opens the door with only a robe on and two glasses of wine in her hand.

“Well, you’ve got quite a big house”You laugh nervously as she smirks looking at you up and down. Suddenly, she grabs your shirt and pulls you inside.

— —

The next morning, you wake up with the worst headache of your life. Sitting up in the bed, you look around and your eyes land on a sleeping form beside you. You almost choke on your own spit then try to quietly get out of the bed. As soon as you do so, you notice your lack of clothing. After gathering your clothes and dressing up, you pick up your phone to see the time. ‘ 4:29 ‘. You shut your eyes as your headache somehow gets worse.

Walking out of the room, you are met with the inside of a fucking mansion. You gulp and start walking down the stairs. Downstairs, you see some wine spilled on the beautiful white carpet and your face crunches up in pain. Putting on your shoes and walking out of the mansion, you call a taxi. It arrives and you get in, telling the driver your address.

By the time you arrive it’s almost 5 in the morning. Hopefully, everyone is still asleep.

As you walk inside silence welcomes you and you let out a sigh of relief. You go to the kitchen for some pain killers then after swallowing them, you let your body fall onto the couch while turning on the TV and turning the volume down.

Around an hour later you hear multiple footsteps. A few seconds later, you feel a presence behind you. You look up and see Mindy.” Y/N! When did you come home last night?” She says, sitting down beside you.

“Uhh, late.”

She laughs and looks back at her girlfriend, who is currently in the kitchen making breakfast with Tara. You glance at her then follow her line of sight. As soon as your eyes land on Tara, you can’t look away. Her hair was messy and she was wearing an oversized T-shirt with shorts, while talking to Anika. You and Mindy stare at the two girls in awe, until she tears her eyes away from Anika and looks at you.

“Are you coming to the party tonight?”

You look at her with a confused face. “ I thought we weren’t going?”

“Oh, but we are. Come on! It will be fun.”

You bite your lip and take a quick glance at Tara once again, only this time Chad is there. And they are laughing and giggling. Again. You clench your jaw, but suddenly an idea pops into your head. “ Alright. I’ll go”

Mindy cheers and holds her hand up, waiting for you to high-five her. You shake your head at her childishness while giving her a high-five.

In the evening you head over to Quinn's room, first making sure she is alone, then knocking. Quinn opens the door and smiles. “Heyyy, what’s up? “ Then she gasps. “Are you going to the party?”

Grinning back at her, you reply. “Yep. And I need you to help me get ready. “ She raises her eyebrows. “ What? You can’t put on a fucking costume?” You glare at her before answering.

“No, I just need you to do my make-up.”

“Oh, okay. Come in” You do so and go to sit on her bed, but remember what she usually does and choose to sit in her chair instead.

While she looks for her make-up supplies, you decide to tell her about Victoria. “ Sooo, I hooked up with the woman from the cafe. “ She turns to you.

“Really?” You nod

“But I fell asleep and had to come home quickly. And she had this fucking mansion! “ Quinn looks at you with wide eyes. “What?!” She nearly shouts. “I mean all I ever get is, dump college dudes with barely 5 dollars in their pocket and you pull a motherfucking mistress? “ You laugh.

“Just do my make-up already!” She Puts up her hands and steps closer to you.

After she is done, you leave her room and put on your costume in yours, walking out, you notice that everyone was already in their costume lingering around the living room. “Oh, were you guys waiting for me?”

Mindy speaks up.” Yeah, but not for that long. Come on, let’s go.”She gestures towards the door and slowly every one of you leaves. As you are looking at each of your friends' costumes, your eyes land on Tara. Your jaw drops slightly. She was fucking breath-taking in her pirate costume. For the rest of the walk, you stay a little behind just so you can admire her.

When you arrive at the party, the music is blaring and a bunch of college students are dancing and drinking. The mixed smell of sweat and booze fills your nose as you step inside, immediately you feel suffocated by the amount of people in the small apartment.

Your friends go over to the couch in the middle of the room, while you excuse yourself to get a drink. Grabbing one of the red plastic cups, you pour some beer in it.You stand there for a while, drinking a couple cups of beer and taking shots of tequila. When you are done, you turn around only to bump into someone. Luckily, your beer didn’t spill. Letting out a grunt before looking up, your eyes widen at the tall boy before you.

“Oh my god, I am so fucking sorry! Are you okay?” You look at him and smile slightly while taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, I-I’m fine.” He laughs nervously, looking down at you.

He bites his lip and thinks for a moment. “How can I make it up to you?”

You look at him with a confused face.”What would you have to make up for? Nothing happened!” You let out a breathy laugh. He just shook his head. “ Please “ Glancing back at your friends, you see Tara whispering something into Chad’s ear and he smirks and chuckles at her.

“You know what? I would really like to dance” You quickly chug your drink and take his hand harshly.

“O-Okay, b-by the way I’m Asher! “ He shouts over the loud music. You start moving your body to the beat. “Y/N!” He grins and starts dancing with you. At first, it’s light touches while you are rocking your body, then he starts grabbing your waist and hips. You push your body closer to him.

You know you shouldn’t be doing this. Coping with the break up with hooking up and drinking. But you couldn’t help it. Back then, she was basically all you had- and of course your friends- and she left, well not really. But you don’t really talk anymore and it’s killing you.

Soon, Asher feels your body tense up and he stops dancing. “Are you okay?” You just nod mindlessly at him, trying to pull a smile on your face. You can see he isn’t convinced, but could care less as you continued moving your body. Asher sighs softly then grabs your hand and pulls you aside where the music is quieter.

“Listen, I can’t do this if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” He raises his eyebrows at you. You bite your lip and look at the floor.”I-......I’m sorry, okay? I just..” You sigh while looking up at him. “ I just can’t bear the sight of her with someone else. Even if they are not dating and I try to cope with it by….whatever this is.”

“Oh………okay.”There is a long pause as he takes in your body with your arms crossed and your fingers tapping the side of them.”Look, we can go to my dorm, clean you up because you are obviously drunk, then talk, hmm? I think I can help you, but only if you want me to.” You nod hesitantly and he smiles at you, taking your hand while heading towards the door when you remember your friends.

“Wait! What about my friends,”

“Well, you could just text them after we got to my dorm?” You nod and continue walking, a little dizzy.

— —

Asher opens the door to his dorm and lets you inside. He goes in after you and closes the door. You look around and note that the room has a rather comforting vibe. He gestures to his bed and you sit down. He goes to his closet and takes out a hoodie. Asher tosses it to you then walks over, sitting down next to you. You put on the hoodie.

“So, tell me the whole story.” You look at him, hesitation and fear in your eyes. He huffs.”Come on! I won’t tell anyone. “ His reassuring smile makes you give in.

As you finish your story, you look up at Asher to find his eyes wide and jaw dropped. A couple seconds of silence later, he speaks up. “ Oookay. So do we agree that she definitely did not break up with you because she needed some time. Like, girl, What the fuck? That either was an excuse or…” He claps his hands together. “ She was afraid of you breaking up with her and she did i instead!”

You laugh at him and nod. “Right, right, but now give me your idea so that I can win her back again?”

He scrunches his nose” That sounded weird, but sure. I think maybe we could make her jealous by ….uh,...” He trails off as he thinks of something. You are looking at him waiting for him to continue. Suddenly, he gasps. “You could spend the night, then the next morning we could go back to your apartment and just go in your room, and I don't know, like put on music and do our thing, but they don’t know that!” He smiles proudly as he finishes telling his plan.

“Well, I mean…It could work”

He grins at you and wraps an arm around your shoulder from the side. “Then let’s do that!” You laugh and pull out your phone to text Mindy.

— —

The next morning you, once again, wake up with a headache. Groaning, you sit up while holding your head. Asher walks in with two mugs. “Morning!” He sits down beside you and hands you a mug and some pain killers. “So, you fell asleep on my bed so I slept on the small couch” You look at him apologetically, but he just shakes his head. “ Anyway, you should hurry. We have to get our plan into action!” Asher throws his free hand up in the air.

Later, you are sitting in Asher’s black Dodge Challenger, heading towards your apartment. You fidget nervously with your hands as you look out the window. Before you know it, you are met with the familiar sight of your apartment building. “Is this it?” You turn to Asher and nod. Sighing, you open the door and get out, Asher following suit.

You walk in and start going up the stairs. When you arrive, your shaky hands drop your keys and you look at Asher behind you and laugh then pick them up, unlocking the door.

As soon as you step inside, you are met with an angry Sam and your eyes widen. Asher looks over your head and gulps at the sight of the furious woman.

“Where the fuck were you?!”

“A-at a friend’s” You stutter out.

“ And you could not fucking tell the others about that before going?!”

“I did! I texted Mindy that I’m staying at a friend’s dorm and that I don't know when I’m getting back. “ Sam just shakes her head and walks away. You don’t even look at the others, just walk towards your room, Asher following you.

Shutting the door behind you, you turn to him. “You sure this is gonna work?”

He shrugs and you scoff. “Hey! It usually does!” You just shake your head and turn on some music on your speakers.

A couple hours later, Asher had to go. He wished you good luck then headed out. Now you were gathering the courage to go out of your room for a drink. When you think you’re ready, you open the door and take quick steps to the kitchen. As you are doing your drink, you could feel the others staring at you. When you’re done, you just simply go back to your room.

In the living room, Mindy watches as Tara’s eyes follow you. She scoffs and groans. Suddenly pulling Tara aside.”I really don’t know what the fuck you two are doing, but you should stop it now! You seriously like two children! Just fucking talk to her, T!”

“But-”

“Don’t even say it. That random guy and her have no fucking chemistry! You two did…fuck that, still do. So just go” Mindy pushes Tara forward and she starts walking to your room.

Mindy goes back to the others as they stare at her. She looks at them”What? It had to be done.”

Tara knocks on your door and you open it. You smile at her. “Hey, Tara! What’s up?” You hope she can’t hear the nervousness in your voice. “Hi, can I come in?” You nod and let her in.

She sits down on your bed and you sit beside her.”Look, I-...’m sorry”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What for?”

Tara closes her eyes then opens them to look at you. “ For everything. I mean, we went through some deep shit together, that I dragged you into, and then broke up with you, started ignoring you, although you were also going through some shit. But by the time I realized this, it was too late.”

You shake your head and take one of her hands. “It’s not your fault”

“Oh, stop with that bullshit. It is and you have to know that I want to make it right. I–.....I just want another chance” Tara looked at you with pleading eyes.

You smile at her and your eyes jump between hers and her beautiful red lips. She smirks as she notices and pushes her body closer, taking your face in her hands. The music is muffled by the sound of your own heart beating in your throat. You start leaning in and when your lips finally meet hers, you let out a sigh of relief. You missed her so much. Your hands traveled up her shoulders and went to her face. Tara hummed into the kiss. Butterflies were flying around in your stomach, making you nauseous. Tara had them too, and she smiled into the kiss.

After a minute, you pull away as she smiles at you, then says. “Sooo, is this a yes?” You just giggle and nod your head, leaning in once again.

You finally can be with her again. It feels unreal. To have her back in your embrace after all this time. Getting to kiss her soft lips again. She was just as happy as you and she made sure you knew that in the future.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #scream fanfic #scream vi #scream franchise #jenna ortega #Spotify

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sheisjoeschateau · 1 month

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | Part IX (FULL)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER IX WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - language, innuendo / sexual undertones, mention of dr*gs and abuse and childhood trauma, Max in a coma, talks about death, difficult confrontations. 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the 9th chapter, written in full. Not action packed, but vital to the plot. Lots of beautiful moments in here that I really took my time with writing because at this point, I am just so in love with this concept. We learn more about Bauman's past. Steve and Jonathan finally have that talk. Murray is a proud uncle. The kids are adorable. Steve's dream isn't only his. And everyone prepares for doomsday.

Bonus: If you love the song "This Little Life," well then you are in for a treat. It heavily inspired this chapter, and it will be back...

PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+

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Steve Harrington was no stranger to nightmares.

He’d learned how to endure them. Over the years, he made friends with his demons. So much so, it got to a point where he got too used to having them around. He just nodded at them as they lurked in the darkest corners of his sunshine mind, letting them exist as lonely, miserable wallflowers who were never noticed in the daylight when he was awake…waiting for their fleeting moment of popularity after dark, when his eyes were shut. He didn’t address them when he was awake. Because if he addressed them, that would mean they were real. But if he let them have their way at night, forgetting them the next day and acting like they did not exist, that meant they had no power over him. They didn’t mean anything. They were nothing.

They meant nothing.

At least, that’s what Steve told himself.

Every night before shutting his eyes, he steels himself for whatever hell he was going to face. From the ripe age of four, he learned to simply expect the unexpected when it came to sleeping. Sleep was never going to be his friend — whether he was sleeping alone, or with a friend, or holding naked girl in his arms. Steve was made to suffer in his sleep. His subconscious was a world that was built upon a foundation ruled by the reality of absent parents, being an only child, high school flings that left him longing and the endless search for love. It consisted of repeated dialogues — sometimes the incessant arguing between his parents, or the jabbering of Tommy H. and Carol, or hearing Nancy chanting bullshit, along with all the other voices of people who filtered in and out of his life. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

Sometimes, Steve was running away from his own voice in his head. There were nights when, within his own nightmares, he himself was the nightmare. That really came into effect during his last year of high school and the summer after he lost Nancy. Adding the entire element of the upside down into his life only fed his nightmares. They were bad before, they were bad then, and they were worse now.

Trauma after trauma, loss after loss, fight after fight, bloodshed upon bloodshed.

Every punch to his eye. Every word slapped across his face. Every other worldly creature he was made to battle. Every moment he was paralyzed with fear of losing one of his kids.

Nightmares loved Steve. And they knew exactly where to find him, every single night.

But right now, sleeping next to you, it wasn’t nighttime. It was still day. Daylight shown through the windows of your assigned guest room in the Harrington house — curtains drawn, and the gloomy afternoon sky filtering the space around you both.

And here he was, fast asleep with his cheek resting on top of your chest, as your heartbeat thumped against his ear. One of his toned arms was looped around your waist, having closed his eyes and letting the steady rise and fall of your chest lull him to sleep. Steve had been fighting sleep for the last two nights. Especially the night after you died in his arms. He had just barely brought you back to life, and he knew that as bad as his nightmares had been before…all of them amounted to nothing compared to the nightmares that would undoubtedly follow him after that. Steve wanted nothing to do with sleep. He was damned for all eternity when it came to sleep, and it was sure to bring him a life of insomnia after the real life nightmare that he was made to face when wide awake.

That’s the beauty of being asleep: you have to wake up.

Steve told himself that every night before he went to bed. He told himself that no matter how bad it got, he would still wake up. And once he woke up, it would be over.

He learned to do that after he went to the county fair one year with his friends, back in middle school. He’d gotten on a ride, peer pressured by Tommy H. and not wanting to look like a chicken.

Every second of the ride, Steve was petrified.

He wanted off, he wanted off, goddammit let me off he shouted.

Then he remembered having been told by the county fair worker that the ride lasted four minutes. Steve took a deep breath, realizing he’d likely been on it for already half that time. So he counted to himself. Counting down the last half of the ride, he told himself over and over: eventually, this ride has an end.

Sure enough, when it did finally come to an end — and when everyone was let off the hellish escapade — Steve realized that he had found the glitch in the matrix. The warp in time. The secret superpower to conquering fear. Suddenly, he wasn’t so afraid anymore. Which is why now, whatever nightmare he was made to face, he would endure it — knowing that the sweet relief of waking up was just right around the corner.

And after all: stranger things had been proven real in Steve’s real life, far more than in his wildest dreams.

Loving you had turned out to be the strangest thing of all.

Even more so, the lack of nightmares that came with that was also strange…

Because right now, as Steve finally succumbed to sleep instead of fighting it, lying next to you…he was not trapped in a nightmare. His subconscious did not have him roaming the unpredictable pathways that led to the darkest corners of his mind. His demons had ceased their dance. Vecna, and all his other worldly monsters, were not the stars of this particular show. Steve was not trapped in the midst of jabbering chants coming from the voices of all the people that he loved, all the people who had betrayed him, or even the voice belonging to himself.

For the first time in years, Steve Harrington was dreaming.

It wasn’t anything drastic. Nothing that could exhaust him, to where any hours of sleep hadn’t felt like any sort of sleep at all. In fact, his subconscious state was…serene. Quiet, peaceful. It was almost unsettling in a way.

Little bursts of yellow — pastel and sunshine and lemon — colored the dark walls inside his mind. A light breeze gently wooshed in the distance, coming seemingly from nowhere but still fanning his face and the flop of his perfect hair. Somewhere, someone was humming. Almost like a bird, or the sound of a foghorn super far off in the distance. Maybe even the distant drums of a far away land. The rhythm came and went, but it kept him company. As if it were some little song made up in his head as he went along, saying, “Hey, I’m right here. We are in this together.”

On the other side of Steve’s closed eyelids, you laid beneath him in his yellow crewneck. The air you breathed softly, in and out of your nose, fanned across his forehead and his perfect hair. And while your heartbeat was not even, it was there — beneath his ear, drumming in a makeshift pattern, inventing its own rhythm as it went.

In the real world, your uneven heartbeat reminded you both that you yourself were not in the clear. Not yet.

But currently, in this new world that Steve’s subconscious had just discovered, it reminded him that he was no longer alone. Not with you.

In the real world, Hawkins is in trouble. Cursed.

And while none of you had figured out how to break that curse just yet, along with Vecna’s…one curse had been broken.

You’d broken the curse to Steve’s endless nightmares.

But would this world even allow for you both to explore a future together, in which you had broken this dark spell cast over Steve Harrington’s life…?

***

Seeing Nancy shuffling out of Argyle’s room is the last thing Jonathan ever could have expected. And he’d seen a lot of shit that prepared him for the unexpected.

The perplexed look in her eyes. The determination in her step to get the hell out of there, despite clearly having been given some sort of useful information after sharing God-knows-what conversation with his Cali best friend.

The two lovers at war made eye contact. It was quick, fleeting. But tense.

Eddie and Robin watched as Jonathan turned to stare at Nancy over his shoulder, and how she froze for a moment to stare back at him through her glassy, wide blue eyes. Her gaze, fixed on him, went from longing to hardened. Nancy walked away, and Jonathan letting her without a word only motivated her to keep walking.

And now, Jonathan had been in Argyle’s room for a good long while. Eddie and Robin had left behind their own little comforting conference of sorts to join the adults downstairs, while the kids had set off in other directions of the Harrington house.

But before that, during all the upstairs drama, Joyce and Murray had been having some drama of their own in the basement.

“You did what?!”

By now, Murray had recounted every single part of his story and how he’d played a huge role — along with you — in how her son had ended up with Nancy Wheeler. Murray’s once upon a time had rendered her speechless.

Even Hopper — who’d heard them go downstairs and immediately followed when he heard Joyce start rocking the boat as she pressed Murray for information — now stood there beside Joyce, having just listened to everything – stunned.

Because when in the world did you all have time to fall in love, fall out of love then fall back in love / new love like this? How the fuck were you all managing that on top of the upside down mayhem?

“May I remind you both how you two lovebirds have spent the last few years developing your own slowburn of a story arc?”

Murray’s question was dripping in condescension. But it was valid. It also came from the heart. He loved these two humans to death. And they loved him back.

While Joyce felt an enormous amount of joy that her son had ended up with the girl he loved…her heart ached for Steve. She’d grown to love him like her own over the years, especially these last several months as she lived under his roof. She had no idea just how broken up he’d been about Nancy. Joyce couldn’t help but feel…almost guilty.

But Hopper was shaking his head with a sort of proud grin, noting how as much as Murray had been the one to rock the boat — you had been its captain at the wheel. He pointed out how you had steered that wheel without even trying.

“Were they even friends in high school?” Hopper asked curiously. “Harrington and Bauman — I can’t see your niece even having time for him back then when he was a punk.”

Murray went on to proudly confirm that assessment, along with explaining how you’d simply participated in your Uncle Murray’s meddling because you happened to be there that night and it’s just a sort of family tradition that you both had formed over the years. And when Joyce asked him how someone like you had not been swept up already by some guy, Murray had scoffed. He looked bitter — in the way that a protective parent is on behalf of their own kid.

“My niece deserves the world. Not one stupid guy at that high school could give her a mere city, let alone a globe’s worth. Doesn’t mean she didn’t…try. I know she was into one guy for a good while at one point. Some friend she’d made with one of the athletes who shared A.P. classes with her. She helped him study. Something she never did, unless it was with the girls and guys from her class that had weekly study group nights. But this kid she liked…he was smart, and he liked her back. She more than liked him…and he let her. Then, as all the petty high school boys do, he ditched her and all her efforts and hours spent studying and helping him pass his classes with flying colors…for a bimbo. A blonde, hip shaking, Pom-pom waving babydoll who’s all body, no brains.”

Joyce frowned. “Bauman is beautiful. She’s body, beauty and brains.”

“Yeah well,” Hopper mumbled, shaking his head disdainfully. “In high school, if you’ve got a dick, we’re letting it do the talking for us.”

“Point is,” Murray continued. “It hurt her. Big time. But that’s the thing about my niece. Given our Bauman blood, we don’t easily succumb to our sentimental feelings. We just let it broaden our dark comedic chops and cynical worldview. My niece doesn’t have mommy or daddy to run home to and cry. She’s an only child, so no siblings to help care for and bond with. Yeah, she’s got friends. But mainly at school. She’s got herself…and she’s got me.” Murray smiled at that. “Between me and her grandmother, we’ve been the ones that raise her. But to be perfectly honest, my niece pretty much raised herself.”

Hopper’s heart clenched. For both you and your uncle.

“She’s great, Mur,” Hopper murmured. “You’ve been there for her and it shows.”

Murray was quiet at that. He hated compliments. But he didn’t flinch or get snippy. He actually looked humbled, silently appreciating this observation.

Joyce sighed. “Murray…you really have been an incredible uncle to her. I know that I’ve…given you a hard time about things, but…really. You’ve never missed with her.”

Murray was still quiet. He looked everywhere but at his two best friends for several beats. Finally, he gave a curt nod. But it was grateful, and full of love. Mainly for you.

“That’s my kid.”

Murray’s voice cracked a bit. It was the most unusual sound in the barren basement of the Harrington house, bouncing off the walls despite its soft decimal in volume. The tight lipped grin on his face as he finally made eye contact with Joyce and Hopper said it all. He loved the shit outta you, like any good parent loves their kid.

“I didn’t get the white picket fence life. Or a lifelong love story with some gal. I got dealt a crazy family of addicts and narcissists and loons. Had a brother who married a gal from rehab, got her pregnant while they relapsed and went forward with having a kid that didn’t stand a damn chance at surviving it.”

Murray pursed his lips before he continued. “That’s the first goddamn miracle I’ve ever witnessed. That little fetus somehow made it, all of 5 pounds at 9 ounces. Ready to get the fuck out of the womb and live. It made for an early arrival and the risk of being premature, on top of being a crack baby.”

Murray’s eyes shone with a certain kind of fondness. It held both sadness and joy. And his voice was the gentlest it had ever been as he spoke about you.

“She didn’t have one thing wrong with her. Not one thing. Perfect lungs. Perfect heart. Perfect brain activity. Not cursed from the drugs that coursed through her mother’s veins and doomed her life from the start. That kid’s been outsmarting everyone in her life since she was a seed.”

Joyce and Hopper couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Their eyes shone with Murray’s, having been parents themselves and unable to fathom being so reckless when bringing life into this world.

“I didn’t get my own kid,” Murray continued. He looked at Hopper. “I didn’t get a Sarah.” Then to Joyce, “Or a Jonathan, or Will. A kid who’s my own flesh and blood that I’d fight for to the bitter end.”

Murray stood there, resolute in what he was getting at. “But I got her. I got a niece who loves me. After she was born, I got my dad’s mom to take her in while I traveled and worked. She’s the only family member I’ve bothered keeping in touch with. She’s an odd one. But she had a home and money and willingness to take in a stray. She never thought she’d ever get a granddaughter. Don’t even think she really wanted one much till she was handed one to take in. Between the two of us, we raised her. She got thrown at whoever would take her and that was fine with me. Meant she still had a damn shot at a life. That’s what we gave her. The rest? She’s done herself.”

Murray sniffed. Then, smirking at himself —

“I’d like to think my being an unorthodox parental figure of sorts is why she’s built for the war.”

Hopper grinned at that, swallowing back tears of his own. He squeezed Murray’s shoulder. “Yeah, she is. Kid could survive the damn streets of New York on her own.”

Murray laughed at that, and so did Joyce — she finally shook her head and wiped away a couple motherly tears. She took a deep breath, looking up and shifting gears with the topic.

“You know,” she started. “Call me a hopeless romantic… But I’m pretty sure that Steve Harrington has hopelessly fallen for your niece.”

Hopper snorted. “God, I haven’t ever liked the idea of two youngins together the way I like them.”

Murray grinned big. “Yeah that’s a plot twist even I wasn’t expecting.”

The cynical gent’s expression suddenly went from warm to grave. “…don’t ever repeat that.”

The adults all shared a heart laugh at that, making their own comments on how the two mortal enemies turned out to be lovers. Hopper cringed at the word, along with Murray — and Joyce gave your uncle hell for that, given he’s the self-acclaimed mastermind at love.

“My witch doctor hours are limited when it comes to my niece’s love life,” he argued, but it was all with humor and fondness. “I already orchestrated the basics.”

“Which were…?”

“Calling her out.”

Joyce smiled. “What do you think of them?”

Murray’s expression softened. He contemplated that for several sincere moments.

“Surprises me to say it…but I think she’s got someone who loves her fully. Will love her fully. There’s actual years there, backing them up. Years of real life shit. Abnormal shit. Valid tension, deeply rooted hatred that turned out to be love. She saw Harrington for who he was, and sees him for who he is. I mean — Jesus, she was there for all of it. Steve Harrington’s redemption arc was witnessed by her just as much as those kids that he’s taken on as a babysitter. Well, and the Robin girl. But that’s…not the same thing as what he’s got with my niece. No threat there.”

Hopper’s eyes narrowed at that, curious. But Joyce gave Murray an all-knowing grin, knowing what he was getting at.

“I don’t think she’s on the same field,” she winked.

Murray winked back. “Exactly.”

Hopper blinked. “…alright, you guys lost me.”

Joyce waved him off, continuing. “So you like him with her. Maybe even…approve?”

Murray slowly nodded. “Didn’t think there’d be a guy who stood a chance at that. But given the whole…letting us all stay here and saving her life thing…yeah. I’d say I’m very good with those two being together.”

Joyce nudged him with her elbow. “Maybe you should tell him that. Y’know…given you’re at fault for ‘ruining his life,’ too.”

Murray rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, those two never stood a chance with your broody son standing in the way of that.”

“Yeah well…that broody son of mine isn’t making much sense right now,” Joyce shook her head. She sighed, worried. Hopper stroked her back. “I need to talk to him.”

“Lover’s quarrel,” Murray pointed out. “Best let that be up to him and Wheeler.”

“Yeahhh, well,” Hopper sighed. “Emotions are high right now. Maybe a little adult intervention would be good for them.”

Murray patted them both on the shoulders, back to his usual self. “WELP! You two have a large time with that. Meanwhile, I’ve got a date with a second drink calling my name.”

***

You watched Steve sleep on top of your chest, thinking about the words he’d spoken to you before dozing off.

“What about France? Or Switzerland, somewhere with a bunch of acres and nature and a lake nearby or something?”

You’d smiled at Steve’s question. “How would we get the Winnebago over there?”

He’d stared at you for a moment, eyes sparkling as your words landed. A deep grin formed on his face.

“You really liked my little dream on wheels, huh?”

You grinned back. “Yeah. It’s not little. It’s big.”

He shrugged sweetly. “I mean, it’s not a mansion. Or a house. It’s a home on wheels. Honestly, a really small home on wheels, but…I dunno, I just — wanna travel. With my family. Not leave them behind at some big house while I go off and explore god knows where without ‘em.”

You played with his fingers, listening to his every word. He wasn’t used to this. Having someone who was happy to just…listen to him ramble. Was he even one to ramble at all? Or is that something you just brought out in him?

“I just dream of this…this little life of sorts,” he continued, speaking to you and also to himself.

You smiled at his words. “I think I like this little life.”

Steve could sing at your response. Something about that one sentence after he’d just further divulged into what a bright future looked like in his mind made him feel on top of the world. The lovesick joy in his eyes, and in his heart, made you melt.

“I only want that little life with you,” he whispered to you, cupping your neck as he bent down to press his forehead to yours. You loved when he did that. Too much, way too much.

You nuzzled your nose to his. Steve loved when you did that. Too much, way too much.

“And the nuggets,” you whispered back with the cutest grin. Then, daring to say it — “Our nuggets…”

Steve’s heart soared at that. Ours…

The happy little laugh Steve breathed against you was the prettiest sound in the entire fucking universe. He caught your lips in a kiss, sweet and soft and firm.

“Your heart needs to get its shit together,” he breathed before kissing you again.

“I know, I know,” you breathed back with that playful attitude he had come to love, gliding your lips against his. “Such a pain in the ass. I know you wanna rail me, Harrington.”

He deepened the kissing, his fingers sliding up from your neck into your hair. “Yeah, god forbid I actually just want you to be okay. I only wanna fuck you senseless.”

You sighed into his mouth, clutching his hips with one of your hands and a fistful of his shirt with the other. “Yeah, you dirty, filthy asshole…”

He sucked on your tongue, cutting you off. “Be nice, princess.”

The two of you had eventually pulled back, knowing that you needed to wait on Dr. Owen’s to bring you whatever goddamn medicine was supposed to help even out your heart arrhythmia. Steve had moved in your arms to rest his head over your heart, cheek pressed to your chest with your heartbeat in his eardrum. You could feel him shaking. So, you made up a little tune as you felt fatigue taking over you.

“I think I like this little life…

This little life…

I think I like this little life…

This silly little life.”

You could tell it made Steve smile as he held you closer. He murmured something sweet to you about liking the improvised melody, to which you murmured something back about it becoming a hit one day. Steve let your soft spoken singing play in his mind, giving him the sweetest of dreams as your voice trailed off.

And now, you were awake — humming it again. Steve was still fast asleep on your chest, which brought you tremendous relief. You dared to think it might be the only medicine your heart really needed.

There was a soft knock at the door. You craned your neck towards the source of the sound, curious. Steve didn’t move a bit. He was out. It made you grin. You sighed lightly, planting a soft kiss on top of Steve’s perfect hair. Slowly, gently — you found a way of standing up without waking him. Little did you know, the sleep he found in your arms couldn’t be bothered easily. He slept harder with you than he ever had in his life.

You padded over quietly to the door, opening it slowly and only enough to show you. Your uneven heart was flooded with warmth as you stared back at 5 familiar faces.

Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will and Eleven all stood there. They held random things. Board games, snacks, and pillows with blankets.

“We are inviting ourselves for a sleepover,” El said.

“A very unexciting one,” Lucas clarified.

“Yes, no excitement,” Dustin agreed.

“Just some good ole fashioned card games that don’t hit pique anxiety,” Mike added.

“Annnnd drawing,” Will threw in, lifting his bag. “Art is always therapeutic. Good for the soul. And the heart.”

You felt yourself getting teared up, looking at their faces with pure love and joy. You chuckled wetly, your chest clenching as you so sorely wished that the sixth nugget was awake to add her sarcasm and unwavering love to the mix.

“Plus it really sucks about the mandate coming soon,” Lucas added sadly.

“Yeah,” Mike nodded. “Before we know it, we’ll all be cramped downstairs in the basement or out there in the middle of nowhere.”

You gave them a sad smile.

“A not-exciting sleepover sounds like a grand plan,” you nodded with a wink. Then, cocking an eyebrow, “So I’m hosting then, huh?”

“Yeah, your room’s bigger than ours,” Dustin said.

“True,” you winked. “Orrrr, we could go over to Max’s room and have her join us?”

All of them nodded excitedly. You smiled, turning back to look at Steve sleeping peacefully in the bed.

“Gimme a few minutes to wake up mom and tell him that Max needs some attending to first, so that we can successfully host a sleepover in her room.”

They all quietly cheered, carefully moving to set down their array of stuff inside of your room. They caught sight of Steve sleeping, snickering to themselves like they were all 8 years old again. You shook your head at them with the biggest grin on your face, adoring how Lucas and Dustin were just so tickled with Steve being in your room. Will and El were giggling into their palms, with Mike shushing them but snorting himself. That made everyone fight back even worse laughter, and you ushered them out quickly before closing the door behind you. Man, you loved these kids so much.

You went into the bathroom, freshening up a bit and turning on the shower to let some hot steam hit your aching shoulder for a bit.

he sound of Steve murmuring your name made you hold off on that.

You walked out, beaming at him as he stared in your direction while sitting up. You were back in his arms in seconds, mumbling into his neck.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

“Jesus, how long was I out?”

“A good chunk of hours.”

Steve groaned, pulling you impossibly closer to him — still mindful of your bad shoulder. You giggled in his grasp. His ears perked up, craning his head up towards the bathroom door as he heard the stream of water running.

“How dare you think of showering without me?” he scoffs incredulously in your arms.

You continued giggling harder as Steve nuzzled his face into your neck, pretending to attack you as he smothered you with groggy affection.

“Just needed to relieve my handicap a bit,” you sighed contentedly.

With that, Steve rose to stand. He was scooping you up into his arms before you could blink, carrying you into the bathroom. He lifted your shirt off, then his. As you stripped your pants, be took the hair tie from your wrist and ran his fingers through your locks, tying it up with ease. With a kiss pressed to your neck, he took your hand and escorted you into the hot stream of water. You watched Steve wistfully as he shed his pants and joined you.

As Steve gingerly massaged the soap into your shoulder blade, you remembered you needed to tell him about the plans that had been made for you both that evening.

“Baby?”

He hummed in response, loving when you called him that.

“The kids have the evening cut out for us tonight,” you started.

Even with your back to him, you knew his eyebrows were raised. “Oh yeah? What, am I making some crazy dinner feast out of canned goods now?”

You sniffed a laugh, turning to kiss his jaw. “No, we’re on for a sleepover in Max’s room.”

“S’that so?” he mulled, a grin in his voice.

“‘Tis so. That, or in here. But I don’t know if we can move her. Plus, I really want her to hear us all talking as much as possible.”

He exhaled, a kiss pressed to your shoulder. “Alright well, I’ll need to go ahead and get her taken care of before we all take over the room.”

“Sounds good,” you sighed contentedly.

You both finished up, and as you got changed into fresh comfy clothes Steve was eyeing the pile of stuff that the kids had unloaded into your bedroom.

“Damn, they just decided to dump the haul here?” he asked.

You snorted. “Yeahhh, they like to make themselves at home here.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but the fondness behind them said it all. He loved it.

Noticing you struggle with your shirt, he quickly moved to help you pull it over your bad shoulder carefully.

“Need to get better at asking for help, angel,” he winked at you, pulling your arm carefully through the sleeve.

You blushed at that, playfully rolling your eyes. “Noted.”

Steve shook his head as he made sure that your shirt was straight, lost in thought for a moment. “Guess we all won’t be able to hang out up here soon,” he murmured. “Outside of the basement.”

Your heart sank, knowing he was referring to the impending doom that loomed around the corner with the whole mandate going into effect next week. “Yeah,” you mused. “Might as well make the most of tonight with them before we have to go back to doomsday mode.”

He nodded sadly, planting a kiss to your hair before grabbing your discarded clothes along with his to start a fresh load of laundry.

“I’m gonna go start a load,” he said. “Check with Hopper on when Dr. Owen’s is getting back here with your meds.”

You sighed. “Yeah, those…”

Steve looked at you solemnly. “Hey.”

You gnawed at your lip, looking up at him.

“You will be okay,” he told you. His tone was firm yet soft. Confident, despite the worried undertone laced around his voice.

You gave him a light smile and nod.

“I’m serious, Bauman,” Steve continued, his brown eyes boring into yours. “We’re getting you on these meds and if they don’t work, then we…do the next thing that does.”

You knew he was stressed. Too stressed. You hated seeing just how fearful he’d been when he lost you before, and how much the fear of losing you again was eating away at him. Of course, Steve being Steve, he now insisted it would be fine. He’d broken down in front of you when it all happened, unable to stop it. Normally, he’d never let that happen. But given the dark reality of things, and just how much everything else had caught up to him, he wasn’t able to be his usual positive, nonchalant self with you over the last 24 hours.

With a mischievous look in your eye, you patted your chest. You gave it a little knocking rhythm, beatboxing under your breath so that he’d laugh. After a moment of Steve glaring at you, the corner of his lips finally twitched up into a grin. He tried to hide it, but you’d already seen it before he could turn away.

“Don’t worry, Harrington,” you told him. “I’m not even close to being done bothering you.”

He turned to look back at you longingly, a smile ghosting behind the way he bit his lip. He nodded.

“Don’t think that ever really had an expiration date, did it?” he asks, teasing you in his husky voice that you loved whenever he was getting coy with you.

You smirked. “Never.”

He took a moment to soak you in with his eyes. “Good,” he said. “I’m keeping it that way.”

You knew what he meant. Don’t you dare fucking leave me again.

And you had every intention of keeping your word. I’m here as long as you’ll have me.

Steve intended to keep you forever.

“Now,” you said, moving towards him. “Let’s go have a big ole sleepover with these six nuggets so that we can stop the end of the world and have another six later on down the road, yeah?”

Steve glowed. He stuttered a bit, unable to breathe. “Y-you really want that? S-six of ‘em…?”

You shook your head, smiling up at him as you stood toe to toe. “Hell yeah, I want that.”

You kissed his jaw. Then, moving to scoop up a bag of the kids snacks — “That’s more buckets of Halloween candy for us down the line.”

Steve smiled and blushed unabashedly, shaking his head with the happiest eye roll you’d ever seen.

“So we’re gonna be that family, huh?” he asked, moving to grab a sour gummy from the bag you’d just opened.

“We will win every costume contest, Harrington,” you said seriously, that signature dry humor of yours coursing through your Bauman blood at full speed. “I’m very competitive. Don't worry, the kids will be too busy having a great time to know that their mom is secretly a little psycho.”

Steve tugged at the gummy worm between his teeth with the most mischievous, flirty glint in his eye. You could smell his perfect skin mixed with the scent of the raspberry candy. “Ahh, so you are mom. Thought I was mom.”

You leaned up on your toes, inching your lips towards his where he still dangled the gummy worm. “In this era? You’re mom. I’m dad. Next one, I’ll be Mommy.”

You bit at the end of the gummy worm, going full lady and the tramp with it like a loose spaghetti noodle. Steve’s lips and teeth stretched into a wide grin, eyes swimming in sex and lust as they looked down at you. You both bit and sucked the gummy worm till your teeth and tongues met. In the lowest, sexiest of husky tones, Steve told you…

“Well in this one? I’m daddy.”

His tongue lapped your mouth, tasting like sugar sweet candy. “Your daddy.”

Before you could completely dissolve into a hot mess of a puddle, familiar voices from the other side of the door sounded off.

“EEEEWWWWWWW!!!!!!”

“STEEEEEEVE!”

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god —”

The sound of all your kids gagging and losing their shit were making for an orchestra of triggered teens, and you both jumped at the noise. After gasping, Steve threw his head back and huffed incredulously.

“Seriously??” he snapped.

You buried your face in your hands, unable to keep yourself from laughing in pure humiliation — but also in adoration.

“You shitheads are listening in, seriously — Jesus.”

Steve huffed and puffed, but it was clear as day he loved it. You did, too. He moved to open it while you stood back, snickering into your palms with flaming hot flushed cheeks.

“Hello,” he said, voice flat.

“You’re disgusting,” Dustin scoffed.

“And you’re an eavesdropping ass hat.”

“Why do you smell like gummy worms?” Mike asked suspiciously.

“Because you left them in my room, Wheeler,” Steve said wryly.

“Yeah, for tonight!!! For all of us!” Lucas scolded.

“Well Sinclair? Maybe don’t leave your candy unattended in my room.”

“It’s Bauman’s room!” Mike said.

Steve opened his mouth, then shut it. “Right yeah, well. My house, but yeah.”

“Lord, I can’t unhear this,” Will grimaced, but even he was grinning.

“You weren’t supposed to hear it at all,” Steve pointed out defensively.

“If you’re gonna fuck around, you’re gonna find out.”

Eddie’s sing-songy voice was new to the mix as he walked past them all, carrying a bunch of things as he made his way downstairs. “Howdy folks, don’t mind me.”

Steve snapped his fingers, pointing at him as he looked back at his kids. “That. What he said.”

El looked at everyone curiously. “What does being daddy mean if Steve is that for Bauman —”

Everyone cut her off with sounds of disdain.

“Noooope! Nope, nope nope nope.”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

“La la la la la la la la not talking about this la la la la.”

“Alright, enough,” Mama Steve silenced the kiddos. “Move along.”

“No, we’ve been waiting for 30 minutes,” Mike griped.

“It’s okay,” came your voice as you emerged from the room, standing next to Steve. “Why don’t you kids come on inside while Steve gets Max’s room ready?”

They all took you up on that offer, shuffling past you both and making their way inside. Steve shook his head as you grinned, pinching his side.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be grown up and outta the house before you know it.”

You winked at him before making your way into the room with them. Steve watched you fondly, hands on his hips in true Mom Steve Harrington fashion. He had that signature sexy-sassy look on his face that everyone had come to love over the years — you especially. Despite being annoyed, Steve felt his heart fill to the brim as he watched the kids scatter the bags of candy and show you the card game selections. You were hugging El closely while Dustin pointed out that he had plenty more candy hidden in his backpack. Will was telling you about his newest art collection ideas, and you excitedly listened to him while Mike and Lucas bickered about which games were better for everyone.

“Steve, you’re joining us, right?” Dustin asked.

Steve scrunched his face in confusion, doubling back with his shoulders. “Yeah, wasn’t that already happening?”

Dustin shrugged. “Just making sure you’re not gonna be lame.”

Steve shook his head. You looked over at him as you smiled.

“F’course he’s joining,” you winked. “It’s not a party without mom.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at you playfully, making your shoulders shake with a chuckle.

He felt more at home in his own house than he ever had in 19 years.

__________________________

Jonathan watched Steve make his way into Max’s room, knee bouncing.

He was seated in the living room, next to Joyce. She’d cornered him earlier, after watching Nancy move to sit on the porch alone and stare at nothing as she sat on the steps. Robin had moved to join her eventually, giving her company and offering to lend an ear.

That sprang Joyce into action, and she found Jonathan standing outside of Argyle’s room with Will. She’d found them both talking, happy to see her boys were in deep conversation and bonding. She could tell they’d been doing that for a little while now, and when they both looked up at her the three Byers all shared warm, solemn smiles. The boys looked a bit sheepish. Mostly the oldest.

Jonathan knew his mom wasn’t gonna let him off the hook. And if he was being honest, a good honest talk with his mother about something not having to do with the upside down was something he’d needed for a long time.

So they talked. Joyce listened while Jonathan spoke, and he listened while she responded. It was the perfect blend of expressed empathy, disappointment and motherly advice shared on her end. He admitted to the fight with Steve in the alleyway, back when Will was missing. And he admitted to making a move on Nancy while she was still in a relationship with Steve. She brought up Murray telling her about him getting drunk at the Henderson’s house, 2 years back…and he shamefully ducked his head as he wrung his hands. But Joyce just rubbed his back, reminding him she wasn’t here to berate him and only to talk through things the way they always have: as mother and son.

“You know, Jonathan…” Joyce spoke softly, her heart heavy. “I don’t think I ever really thanked you for everything that you did in helping me find Will.”

Jonathan did a double take, brow furrowed. “What’re you talking about, of course you did —”

“No,” Joyce shook her head. “No, we talked about it, sure. I verbally thanked you.”

“Many times, mom,” Jonathan assured her.

“Just listen,” she cut him off gently, clutching his hand. “I lost a son…but you’d lost a brother. We both lost him. Twice. God, twice… and each time was a brand new hell. We didn’t even have time to process the first round.”

Jonathan chuckled darkly. “Would we ever have processed that? I mean really…”

Joyce grinned at that. “Psh, yeah. Doubt it.” Looking back at him with a softened expression, she continued. “Point is…in the midst of all that stress, and searching, and worrying…you were still going through so much. Not just with Will missing…but everything else, too.”

Jonathan listened to his mother as she looked deeply into his eyes, clutching both his hands. She went on to tell her eldest son every validating thing a mother could tell her child. She recounted every single thing that Jonathan had been dealing with outside of Will going missing, and it hurt her to relive it all just as much as it hurt Jonathan to hear it all over again. When Joyce got to the part where she’d had to make them all move, Jonathan’s eyes watered up.

“You and Nancy were just beginning to dive into things deeply,” she was saying. “Really, you’d both gone through so much together and finally you both got to just…start being a couple, and then it all went wrong again, so that — that forced you both back into the upside down bullshit…”

“Mom,” Jonathan said, a bit shocked.

“I’m serious,” Joyce said back, eyes fierce and full of love. “Jonathan, you’ve had to be an adult since you were just a kid. Since you were Will’s age. And then you finally get into a relationship with a beautiful girl, and immediately you’re thrown into war. Not even able to enjoy your teens going into adulthood. Even Nancy, she…she’s been through so much with you. And now…”

Joyce’s voice trailed off. She sighed, exasperated with herself. She re-centered, turning back to her son.

“I love you,” she told him, eyes full of love. “So much, you just don’t know. You are just…a good person. And the fact you feel overcome with guilt as though you’re not —“

“I haven’t been a good person, mom,” Jonathan murmured, voice wobbly.

“Jonathan,” Joyce whispered, squeezing his hands. “Just because you’ve not acted right in certain ways…that does not make you a bad person. Do you understand that? Because if not — then whoever’s telling you that…whether it’s someone you love, or a stranger, or yourself…stop listening. Seek within. Listen to your heart, because it’s never going to steer you wrong. And no, that’s not just some dumb cliche saying, it’s true. Your mind will confuse you, and your soul will get shaken. But your heart? It will always lead you back.”

Jonathan’s lip trembled, and Joyce held him tight as he shook him her arms. He clung to his mother, overwhelmed.

“I’m afraid I’ll never say enough, mom,” he wept into her shoulder. “To Steve, or to Nancy… I’m actually more sure about what I need to say to him instead of her.”

Joyce chuckled early, squeezing him tighter. “Aw, baby… Don’t overthink. Say whatever is going to give your heart peace. You’ll regret anything you never said far more than anything that you did.”

***

“Trust me kid, I’m in the doghouse now for the hell I raised on the phone with him.”

Hopper stood in front of Steve, along with Murray. They’d just spoken with Dr. Owens on the phone, who’d told Murray that he wouldn’t be able to bring them the medication until tomorrow morning. Murray had managed to remain calmer than Hopper, to both their surprise. Now, they stood in the kitchen with Steve – filling him in.

Steve took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling just as deeply out his mouth like a puff of air he’d been holding while running a hand through his hair. Murray looked at him with a somber, empathic expression.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not just as furious about it,” Murray pointed out. “But given the whole…having a target on his back thing…I’m trying to have some sort of grace about it, mostly for her sake. And yours.”

That made Steve look over at him gratefully. He couldn’t imagine the stress your uncle was experiencing, knowing your heart — literally — was on the line.

“Says he’ll be here with it as early as he can be,” Murray added. “Just keep doing what you’re already doing. Which is the most.” His lips turned upwards at one of the corners. “The most, and then some.”

Steve allowed himself to give your uncle a sad smile back, appreciating being seen by him. He’s all that you had as far as family goes. With a nod, Steve let that news settle into his brain. He reached out to shake Murray’s hand, who shook it back firmly and dared to pat his shoulder. Physical affection was so not his thing. But he’d make an effort for the guy his niece was in love with, and who not only saved her life — but was still doing everything he could to keep it intact.

“Kids sleepover, huh?”

Hopper changed the subject, grinning at Harrington — who chuckled lightly.

“You guys know about this?”

Hopper shrugged. “We might’ve told them to allow themselves some fun for one night, before we all go into lockdown…” His expression turned grim, a thought pushing its way to the forefront of his brain. “And whatever plan needs to go into action.”

Steve knew what he meant. Getting back out there. He swallowed hard, giving him a quick nod. No one was ready for this. But were they ever really “ready” for any of this?

Murray and Hopper told Steve to not give any thought whatsoever to anything relating to doomsday until the next morning. They insisted that they just take the focus on laughing and soaking up the night with you and the kids. Steve was surprised at how certain they both were about it, but despite it being out of character for them in an endearing way…it scared him. It meant that they knew just how much everyone here was at risk. It made a sharp chill run up Steve’s spine.

Eventually, Steve had made his way up to Max’s room. He was sorting through it, making room for you all to camp out there. El had already turned her little cot bed into a floor couch of sorts, which made Steve grin.

He talked to Max out loud as he checked her vitals. Lucas already had, along with Joyce and Hopper. Still, he always wanted to make sure.

“Not sure if this is gonna be one of those nights where I’ve gotta make Dustin cut the attitude during games,” Steve was telling her with a smirk as he straightened her pillows. “Honestly, it’s probably an excuse for Mike and El to be able to cuddle at night. So I’ll likely be chaperoning the entire night. Good thing I got mad good sleep with Bauman today.”

Steve moved to close the curtains, watching the sun begin to set behind the trees in the distance. It looked dull, given all the debris and toxic air.

“You know what’s crazy?” he asked her. “Ever since I started sleeping with her — like actually sleeping, head outta the gutter Max — it’s…I haven’t had a single nightmare. I always have those.”

He moved to discard some of the kids’ loose candy wrapped and one of Dustin’s empty pudding containers, glancing over at her sleeping form.

“Seriously, it’s weird. It’s like she just…makes them all disappear.” Steve scoffed a laugh at that. “Who’d have thought… She’s been a nightmare to me, and now I can’t…can’t even stand to think back on the times I never saw her like I do now.”

Steve looked around the room, seeing it was good for the night. It would be a tight squeeze — but having shuffled Max’s bed over enough so that they all had room to play games and draw on the floor with snacks, it would do. He sighed, taking a second to sit on the edge of the bed near her feet.

“Maybe this is a good thing,” he murmured. “Tonight. Hearing all our voices at once. Arguing and bickering and laughing the way you all do together.”

Steve poked her knee. “Think that’ll kick start you again, red? Wake you back up so that you can give us all shit?”

Her silence isn’t as long as he expects it to be whenever he hears a knock. Steve looks over to the open doorway, finding Jonathan standing there. He looks…wary. Rough, and timid. Standing awkwardly with his hands buried deeply in his pockets, he shoots Steve a very quick, uncomfortable right-lipped grin.

“Hey.”

Steve blinks. “Hey.”

Jonathan rocks on his feet for a moment. Finally, he clears his throat. “Can I come in?”

Steve blinks again, but eventually nods. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, yeah.”

Jonathan moves to lean against the wall, next to the doorway. Steve would laugh at the fact that this is Byers’ way of “coming in,” if it weren’t for the fact that he was so clearly nervous about something. Steve had a few guesses as to why he was here. He knew this had been coming, and he wishes he’d been the one to initiate it. Because they really needed to talk.

They’d needed to talk for 3 years.

“Look, Byers,” Steve started after waiting for what felt like a century for Jonathan to say something. “I owe you an apology…”

“No,” Jonathan cut him off.

It made Steve look at him in surprise. But Jonathan continued before he could say anything else.

“No, it’s me who owes you an apology.”

Steve stared. “…what?”

Jonathan sighed, scratching his neck and praying the words could find him as he finally dove into what he needed to let off his chest.

“Look I’m not good at this,” Jonathan said. “Talking, I mean. You know I’m weird.”

He gnawed at his lip, pensive and twitchy. He looked down at his feet a lot, feeling tense under Harrington’s gaze. But he sucked in a deep breath, going for it.

“Back in 1982, you had every right to break my camera.”

Steve froze. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah. Yeah you did. I shouldn’t have been spying on you guys like that. ‘Cause even though I was looking for my brother, it…it turned into me just…following the sound of you all partying and watching from afar. So I mean, technically…” Jonathan chuckled under his breath darkly. “Technically, I was being a stalker.”

He looked up at Steve finally, finding him looking at him in pure shock.

“You were dating Nancy,” Jonathan continued. “And I took…really inappropriate pictures of her. In a moment when you both were having…or well, thought you were having a private moment together. That wasn’t alright. And if…if someone had done that to me and my girlfriend, I would’ve…probably done the same thing. And honestly, you getting mad at me in the alleyway that morning —”

“Dude, no,” Steve shook his head. “Don’t take the blame for that. That was all me. It was shitty, what I did to Nancy. And what I said to you.”

“Yeah it was, but you found me in your girlfriend’s room, Steve,” Jonathan told him. “I was in there with her, in her bed, sleeping next to her when she told you that she was with her family. It looked…fucked up.”

Steve was just staring again. How in the hell was this happening right now? And why had he himself never made it happen sooner?

“So you chewed me out,” Jonathan shrugged. “And no, you shouldn’t have publicly humiliated Nancy like that at all…”

“I kick myself for it every day,” Steve murmured. “Trust me…”

“I know,” Jonathan told him, voice softer. “I know that now. I’ve…known you have for a long time. Nancy told me. I know you apologized over and over.” He took a moment, going back. “But what you said to me was just…your way of saying fuck you. You felt used, tricked and stupid. After you’d protected Nancy from a guy who’d proven himself to be a creepy stalker, and it looked like she slept with him. So you lashed out. Like any teen guy would.”

“I called you a queer,” Steve says incredulously, cringing at the memory. “I even went as far as saying you were the reason for Will going missing, along with your mom. It was low, Jonathan. What I said and did was just — flat out low. No excuses. None. I’m the one in the wrong.”

“Steve, we both were.”

Jonathan’s voice finally finds confidence. It makes Steve look at him in another light, as if he’s truly seeing Byers for the strong-willed young man that he is. It occurs to him now that maybe Jonathan has been going through some soul searching of his own, just as he had over the last few years. Clearly, he still was. Both of them were.

“We were barely 17 years old, and stupid,” Jonathan kept going. “We — we didn’t know how the hell to deal with anything. Much less a missing kid, or a guy related to that kid who’d taken creepy photos. We both were idiots.”

Steve let that land. And it actually made him laugh, sheepishly.

“Yeah,” he nodded slowly, scratching his neck. “Yeah, I guess we were.”

Jonathan laughed too. It was still tense, a bit awkward. But it was becoming lighter. For both of them.

“Shit, Byers,” Steve shook his head. “Have we both been feeling awful about this for years and just… not saying something about it until now?”

Jonathan sighed. “Sounds like it.”

They were both quiet for a moment, letting this newfound revelation settle into existence.

“Thanks for the new camera, by the way,” Jonathan added. “I know that was you.”

Steve looked back up at him, finding kindness and sincere gratitude in Jonathan’s eyes. It made him feel shy. Worse, yet better at the same time.

“Least I could do,” Steve shrugged.

Jonathan sniffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… You didn’t take the credit for it. You let Nancy do that.”

Jonathan pursed his lips, brow pinching as he shifted against the wall and stared down at his feet again. Steve waited as he watched him curiously.

“You extended way more kindness to me than I did you,” Jonathan said softly. So softly, it made Steve wonder if it was actually what he said.

“I shouldn’t have pined after Nancy,” Jonathan said. “I should’ve asked her out. Like actually asked her out, while she was single again. Before you two got back together.”

Steve felt his stomach jump. This was…a lot. So much was being covered right now in this conversation.

“But instead, I just sulked and pretended I still wasn’t in her thoughts at all. Even though I knew that…that she liked me. But I also knew that she liked you. So I just… I convinced myself it wasn’t ever gonna happen. Because that was safer. And hating you made it easier to do that.”

Jonathan looked ashamed of everything that he was saying now, but certain about it. Steve just listened, not daring to interrupt him.

“I might not have cheated with Nancy the first time you both dated…but I did the second time. And that’s not… that’s not right.” Jonathan sighed, taking a breath. “But I was a coward. Maybe not when it came to the upside down and finding Will, but up here? In regular real life? I am. I’m a coward. I don’t say whatever it is that I’m actually feeling or thinking, or wanna say. I just…wait for circumstances to make it happen for me. You don’t do that. You just…go for it.”

Steve scoffed. “Trust me, I’m…I’ve been a coward for years. In many ways, many times, for many reasons.”

“Yeah, well…you still didn’t steal someone else’s girlfriend instead of actually making a move. And I’m really…really sorry about that, Steve. I’m sorry I swooped in like that, and then…drunkenly bragged about it to Bauman Squared while you were in earshot. It made you take it out on her, when she didn’t deserve that. I did. All she did was call me out on it with Murray. They both had no idea it would turn into this.”

That made Steve squirm. He thought about how he’d been pining after Nancy still, even when she was with Jonathan. He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to let that off his chest too.

“Look,” Steve started warily. “Honestly, I really appreciate everything you’re saying. And really — apology accepted. Completely.”

Jonathan could tell that Steve meant it, and he visibly relaxed some once he let that settle into his bones. He released a breath of air that he hadn’t even realized he had been holding.

Meanwhile, Steve was holding his own.

“And you’re right,” Steve continued. “What I did to Bauman? Taking it out on her like that was…well it was projection. Cowardly projection. Instead of taking it out on you and Nancy, I took it out on someone else. Because that was easier. Because it meant that I still got to be the unsung hero in Nancy’s life, and a bigger person than you.”

Jonathan stared at him now, surprised to hear this. He wasn’t expecting his confessed guilt to lead to Steve admitting guilt of his own.

“I’ll probably be telling Bauman I’m sorry for as long as I live,” Steve continued, voice solemn. Honestly I feel…shitty beyond belief, knowing that I could’ve been kinder to her all this time…maybe even spared myself way more heartbreak...if I’d just gotten mad at you guys instead of her. Because then, I might’ve gotten close with her and discovered feelings for her before this all went down.”

“Maybe,” Jonathan pondered, nodding. “Then again… I don’t think you’d have fallen for her nearly as hard if it hadn’t been for you giving her shit for it.”

They both awkwardly chuckle at that. But it makes them both sad to think about it. How you’d taken the brunt of it all.

“Fuck, she didn’t deserve that,” Jonathan huffs. “And I’m — I’m the one who caused it.”

“No,” Steve shook his head, eyes sad and dark as they swam in regret. “No, that was all me. I was an asshole. And truthfully, I was still so hung up on Nance that I didn’t know how to even remotely look at another girl. Let alone one I convinced myself was responsible for taking that away from me, knowing damn well that it wasn’t. Nance wanted you, and you wanted her. Plain and simple.”

Jonathan looked ashamed all over again, but Steve held up a hand.

“Trust me,” Steve assured him. “She wasn’t mine to keep. I get that now.”

Jonathan slowly smiled at that. “You love her, don’t you?”

Steve knew who he meant. You.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered. “Yeah, I…don’t even know what to do with it.”

Steve stared into thin air, lost in thought. Jonathan didn’t push him, just watching him and waiting for him to go on.

“I just…look back on it all and wonder how. How did I not see her in high school, or…see during the summer of ‘84 that she was clearly perfect?”

“It takes time,” Jonathan said softly. “Shit doesn’t always hit you right away. I know that better than you’d think.”

Steve pursed his lips. “Yeah. Yeah no, you’re not wrong. I just… I dunno. I guess I’m just…”

He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to get this over with.

“I was still hung up on Nance while you were in California,” he continued, making eye contact with Jonathan again. “So much so that…I told her I was. And I’d…hoped to get her back. I wanted to steal her back from you.”

Jonathan sighed, giving him a small smile.

“I know,” he said. “She told me.”

Steve stared. Oh.

“Believe it or not,” Jonathan continued. “I’m not…mad about that at all.”

Steve blinked. “…why…?”

Jonathan chuckled. “Steve, I actually stole your girlfriend. I had it coming.”

After several more blinks, Steve coughed out a laugh. Was he serious? As Jonathan laughed with him, he realized that he truly meant it. He wasn’t mad.

“Sorry man, but I won that round,” Jonathan chuckled.

“Fair,” Steve chuckled back. “Good game, man.”

Jonathan nodded awkwardly, shuffling his feet. “Yeahhh, good game…”

They took a few moments of silence, letting the tension wear off some more. It was…nice. This weird sort of talk was nice.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Steve continued. “I’m sorry, too. For going after Nance again, and not just… facing you both sooner.”

“S'alright,” Jonathan told him. “I’ve honestly been a really shitty boyfriend these last several months.”

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Long story,” Jonathan waved a hand. “That’s my own wrong that I gotta make right with Nancy.”

Steve contemplated that. Had whatever was going south between Jonathan and Nancy, unbeknownst to him, been the reason she’d seemed to be interested in him again? Or was that just the tipping point for her, and her buried lingering feelings for Steve?

Regardless, it didn’t matter now. Steve was so in love with you, he couldn’t see straight. But it did make him wonder.

“And honestly, I don’t blame you,” Jonathan said, smiling. “Nancy, she’s…perfect.”

Steve smiled at him. “She’s pretty wonderful,” Steve agreed. “I’ll always adore her. But…”

“…but you found your person,” Jonathan finished for him. “Your ‘perfect’ person.”

Steve grinned. “Yeah. She makes everything make sense for me, and I just…god, I love her.”

Jonathan nodded, still smiling. “I know how you feel.”

Steve fiddled his thumbs in his lap, staring down at them and feeling his stomach knot up. There was another thing he needed to own up to…

“Jonathan, what I said to you…” Steve murmured, eyes still downcast. “Yesterday, back at the fence…when Bauman…” Steve winced, skipping that part. “...it wasn’t at all —”

“I deserved it.”

“Okay, you’ve got to stop doing that, will you let me feel bad for at least one thing I’m saying?”

“No, and especially not this one.”

Steve sighed, perplexed. “…and why is that?”

“Because I deserved it.”

Jonathan watched as Steve just gaped at him, biting back amusement. He let the sincerity of the serious topic ground him again.

“You all searched and fought relentlessly for me and my mom when this all started,” Jonathan went on to say.

“...I so did not do anything from the start.”

“Maybe you don’t think you did? But you did.”

“…I so did not.”

“You got there. And besides…like we both said earlier…lots of misdirected projection. And lots of long overdue confrontation. On both our parts.”

Steve couldn’t argue that. Byers was right, at least in this case.

“You were still mad at me,” Jonathan continued, “and I was just mad at myself but convinced that everything and everyone else — you included — were the problem. Not me.”

Jonathan gnawed at his lip for several moments, clearing his throat. “You basically unleashed years of deeply buried resentment onto me in one foul swoop. I gotta say, your words…shit hit me hard.”

Steve frowned, ducking his head a bit. “I honestly don’t even remember some of it. I just…saw red.”

Jonathan snorted. “Blind rage will do that. Shit, I don’t even remember swinging on you back in ‘82. Apparently, I did a pretty nasty job.”

“I was positive you’d done permanent damage to my nose.”

“Yeah, and then you took an even worse beating from that Hargrove kid and the Russians,” Jonathan said, nose scrunched with a laugh. Steve laughed, too. They had to laugh about it all at this point.

“Christ, man,” Steve groaned. “It’s a wonder my face isn’t the prime subject for plastic surgery…”

Jonathan shrugged. “And you wonder why we all hate you so much. You’ve gotten your ass beat so many times, and still look good.”

Steve smirked. “Thanks.”

Jonathan winked. “I’m sure Bauman Squared digs it. All the battle wounds.”

That actually made Steve blush. “Psh. Compared to the fall she took? My experiences look like a walk in the park.”

“So Dr. Owens is bringing her meds tomorrow, yeah?” Jonathan asked, brow pinched with worry.

Steve sighed, raking a hand through his hair before crouching over his knees, elbows pressing into them. “Yeah. Yeah, that can’t come soon enough.”

Jonathan looked at Steve with a somber expression. He hated that he was going through this. Seriously, when was Harrington going to catch a damn break?

“She’ll be alright, man,” Jonathan told him kindly. “She’s got you. Got all of us.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, she’s gonna have to be. I’ll lose my goddamn mind if she — yeah, she has to be.”

“She will,” Jonathan nodded, speaking firmly. Assuringly. “She’s not going anywhere.”

Steve bit his lip, staring at his hands.

Jonathan shuffled his feet, feeling shy again before asking… “So hey…are we cool? Like actually really, finally cool?”

Steve looked up at that, eyes shining with relief and kindness. He stood up, extending a hand out for a firm handshake. “Yeah man. We’re cool. For good.”

Jonathan felt relief wash over him entirely as he shook Steve’s hand, pulling him in for a tight hug. And Steve felt like he had just made so much peace with his old self in a multitude of ways, over one honest conversation with Byers. While he wished it had happened sooner, he realized…maybe if it had, it wouldn’t have led to this. This true sense of peace that came with newfound mature understanding that both of them had grown into individually.

Byers and Harrington could be friends now. They both had peace to find with Nancy Wheeler, but if they were being brutally honest with themselves — that wasn’t going to be possible until the two of them had hashed it out, once and for all. And now that they had, Steve could let Nancy know that he had finally moved on…once and for all...and so could she.

And Jonathan could go make things right with her — whether that led to them deciding to take time apart, or getting his girl back.

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TAGLIST (ILYSM) If I forgot you or you wanna be added, lmk :)

@aloneinthehellfire @xprloki @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @Eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers Originalthingparadise Pleuviors pumpkinonice Ihaveproblemsihaveproblems Brinleighsstuff Definitelynotherr sucker-4-angst bookkeeperlove notlilyyyy @goosy-goose

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #mishas masterlists #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #oh so we do love steve #Steve and bauman #steve harrington fluff #stranger things au #SoundCloud

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romanoffsbish · 4 months

Text

Affirmations

Natasha Romanoff x R (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Trauma (Red Room) | Sources say you might cry.

Healing—well that’s a family affair, 🥹💕 | WC: 2,618

Heavy at times, but super hurt / comfort — fluffy vibes. Probably the sweetest fic I have ever written tbh

"I am smart," your daughter repeated with a grin, eyes hopeful for some reassurance. "You are so smart and."

"I am kind," she remembered, and you beamed, not even needing to speak the next one either. All you could do was place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

———

"I a-am b-b-beautiful," she stuttered, then she took a calming breath before going on, voice a lot more steady this time as she softly said, "and deserving of love." Her gaze was however focused on your face, you smiled then gently twisted her head until she was solely staring at her reflection, she flashed you a nervous smile. "Again baby, but this time try to mean it."

Arabella nodded, "I am beautiful," her voice held a soft veil of conviction, "and I deserve forever love."

"Now all at once," you gently commanded, a proud smile on your face for encouragement. Arabella matched your confidence as she did as you instructed, then she turned and jumped into your unfolding arms.

"Always remember your worth love, people in this world will try to tell you otherwise but if you hold onto your heart you'll never perceive their lies as truth."

Natasha had watched the entire sequence from the moment you entered the house with the crying child. Her best friend Darla had dropped her for a popular girl who just transferred to their school, and in the process of doing so she called your daughter ugly.

When she heard the words leave Arabella's trembling lips she nearly left on another mission, but she chose instead to do what she does best, spy from doorways.

It amazed her just how quickly you were able to bring your daughter back to herself. To instill in her a sense of confidence and love that many kids only dreamed of. Natasha felt a brief flash of envy trying to consume her when she saw herself amongst the crowd of unloved. Then she really looked at you both and rebuked the notion, that was then, she needed to focus on the now.

"Oh look," you gasped to alert your daughter to the guest you'd locked eyes with through the mirror. Your wife flashed you a smile that spoke of guilt and hope. "Mama has been watching us this whole time."

Natasha saw the traces of sorrow in your eyes but she moved passed the need to talk it out as she stumbled forward and settled into the both of your open arms.

"How long did you know you'd be home today?" The redhead shrugged and mumbled, "Only a few hours."

It wasn't a lie, you'd walked in only minutes after her, unaware that she had made it home days before she was expected to. The redhead never knew exactly when a mission would end as the bulk of them came with sliding timeframes based on multiple factors.

It wasn't her fault that a standard two week mission only takes her one, but you hated it regardless of how true her reasoning was. The impromptu nature of the arrival always made it impossible for you to tend to her. Which wouldn't bother you as much if she wasn't going out of her way to stop you from doing it.

As she pulled away from the embrace she saw you were about to offer her assistance but she was saved by the tiny girl in your arms who yawned. On days like today, when your daughter was emotionally drained, she was ready to go to sleep before you could prepare dinner.

"I'll be okay detka," she pressed a kiss to your lips then pulled Arabella from your arms for a proper embrace.

"I missed you," she yawned while melting into her mama's chest. "I missed you too sweetheart."

"Night mama," she pressed a sweet kiss to Natasha's nose then rotated back into your arms. "Sweet dreams princess, I'll see you in the morning for cartoons."

Once your daughter's smiling face was out of sight Natasha's smile fell along with her shoulders. The mission she went on was only over so soon because of the total catastrophe it became. Tiny miscalculations on the bases end led to her team evacuating the wrong building, then by the time she knew it was too late.

You knew it was best to give her time to herself, so after you prepared a snack for your daughter and got her settled into bed you began to clean the house. Ears perked up to the sounds above, and after three long hours you finally sighed in relief as the water shut off.

Natasha had zoned out after the conditioner washed out of her hair, she stood there beneath the freezing cold water in a daze until she felt her tired body sway. Once she got out she tended to her wounds, some of which were already healing and that infuriated her.

Why should she be able to walk away with her life?

When her hollowed eyes met their reflection she sighed, and she tried to remember her therapists words, "survivors guilt is natural, but don't listen to the temptation, you have a family who needs you too..."

Natasha could feel the darkness creeping in though, so she decided she would try her hand at your method.

"You are smart," she tried to mimic your earlier words, but it left a bitter taste on her tongue. If she were, then the intel she received would've never mattered, if she truly had the power to be a hero she would've known.

The next phrases were followed by the same self deprecating thoughts. What good were kindness and beauty when you were meant to be a ruthless soldier? It was in her DNA to be efficient, yet she failed. It was like her mind split in two as she muttered, "you are a monster," with clear disgust and overwhelming anger.

Then she stumbled back and shook her head, "n-no." Her mind ran wild with memories of her youth, "I-I didn't have a choice," she whimpered, and that was when you knew it was time for you to step in for her.

"Stand up Natalia," you firmly commanded and the redhead fell in line in seconds. It broke your heart but you knew you needed to be strong; firm in tone and command so she'd mean what she was about to say.

"Repeat after me," you steadily spoke, "I am not bad."

Natasha repeated it but her gaze was far away.

"I am not a bad person," you rephrased, and just like before she struggled to say it with any feelings. You sighed, "I'm not a monster." Her body stiffened, which was odd as she'd already been stood straight as a board. This time, she refused to repeat the words.

Natasha never lied, and that broke your heart, but you didn't falter in pushing her towards owed forgiveness.

"I am human," you paused, "not marble." You felt the way her spine slightly slumped as she repeated your words with a hardly noticeable, but never for you, shaky voice. You noticed everything and that was how you knew your beloved wife was about to have a real breakthrough on the never ending road to healing.

You smiled softly as her eyes finally met yours, the both of yours glistened beneath the blinding bathroom lights. Hers were merely glazed, but yours were pooling in the corners as you spoke, hopefully speaking directly to her soul. "So I'm allowed to break."

"Oh god," she cried, hands clutching the marbled sink as she had to keep herself from collapsing. You were prepared for her to fall so you had wrapped your arm around her waist, spun her then pulled her into an abrupt hug. Trying to calm her nervous system and to shield her sobs for the sake of your sleeping daughter.

"It's okay my love," you tried to reassure her but she shook her head and only sobbed harder. You took the queue then to focus on physical reassurances instead. Holding her even tighter and kissing her face, usually atop of her cheekbone to catch the fresh tears, a silent way to tell her that you'd take her pain if you could.

Natasha felt even guiltier when she caught on. "I-I couldn't save them all," she confessed into the cotton of your shirt, body shuffling in vain because there was no way possible she could get any closer to you.

"You were alone?" She shook her head and you soon hummed, "then why do you shoulder all of the blame?"

"I'm an Avenger—I was the one in charge, and..."

"You are human."

"I am enhanced..."

"Enhanced metabolic rates doesn't mean you had the ability to save them all, and we both know you don't need me to tell you that Natasha. You are brilliant."

Before she could continue to bicker with you she was stopped by your lips pressing hers shut. Natasha melted into your sweet touch. No matter the case you were always gentle with her, even when she wasn't with you. If she was angry and shouting you'd quiet her with a kiss like this, you were patient and rarely yelled back.

It's what helps her to become better for the sake of your daughter. As she processed her feelings, some for the very first time, you only ever offered her patience. You were the light at the end of her tunnel, giving her everything that she could ever dream of and more.

"I-I," she really wanted to take you on but she was too tired to fight against the warmth of your love. Her body once again melted into yours and everything felt like it was settled, but the peace of mind was short lived.

"Mama, are you okay?" Arabella sniffled from your bed, and the both of you looked up to see her crying. "Baby, what are you doing here and out of your bed?"

You coaxed your wife to keep calm as you firmly held her hands so she could still feel you there while your attention was focused elsewhere. "I heard a scream and thought there was a monster next door. I was coming to get mama so that she could fight it off for me."

Natasha squeezed your hands and sat up to face her, uncaring that her face was a mess of irritated, red splotches. On the journey to wellness it is important that you don't hide the process from your loved ones.

They can only understand you if you show them...

"Come here honey," Natasha called out to her and she immediately shuffled over and into your lap, her eyes were stern as she stared into your wife's broken pair.

"Mama needs to remember her worth," she huffed to you directly and you refrained from chuckling in her face as she looked like she meant business. "Yeah, I suppose she does—are you up to lead her through it?"

Arabella nodded her head then stood, pulling Natasha off of the ground and right over to the mirror. You left them to their moment and slipped off to the kitchen.

When you got back to the room with the tray of snacks you nearly melted into a puddle. Your daughter was sat on the counter, her tiny hands cupped around her mother's face as she told her even more phrases, it was as if she knew exactly what Natasha needed to hear.

"You are brave," then she paused so her mom could say it back. It continued on, the two in their own world as you watched your wives heart mending in real time.

"You're an Avenger," she spoke with a soft smile that only grew as her mom teasingly groaned the words.

"You're my hero," she beamed, "my super mama."

"Oh wow," she huffed shakily, "I love you so much."

"I love you even more than the Barbie movie mama."

Natasha chuckled, "wow, I must be special." Your daughter innocently nodded and you watched as Nat pulled Arabella up and into a tight hug, one of her arms loosened as she approached you without even looking up, you didn't hesitate to slip into her hold. "My greatest loves, you fit perfectly in my arms..."

The three of you remained in a tight embrace for a total of five minutes before your intuition was proved right. Natasha's stomach roared, then Arabella's followed.

"On the bed, pick a movie while I clean up some."

Natasha handed your daughter the remote then went on her nightly patrol, her hand never too far from a hidden weapon—just in case. Once she knew the lot of you were safe she grabbed the drinks you had left on the counter and returned to join you both in bed.

Arabella happily took the chilled capri sun from her hands then reached into the snack pile for a cookie.

"We are watching Encanto," she cheered and your wife fell into your unoccupied side with a hushed groan. "You and I both know she'll be out in twenty, then you can turn on Moonraker and I can finally sleep."

Natasha pinched your side but you only chuckled, and in about fifteen minutes time you had proved her right.

Your wife watched as your daughter, in the depths of her sleep climbed atop of your body and settled down. It warmed her heart to see the love that your daughter expressed even without the need for consciousness. She pressed a kiss to her cheek then moved to hover her face above your stilled one, waiting for you to bite.

Hook, line and sinker—it only took seven seconds for your eyes to crack open and your lips to perk up. The woman gently kissed your lips and if the both of you didn't desperately need to sleep she'd have continued.

Natasha's kisses lowered, pressing down your jaw until she could feel your racing pulse as she settled her face into the crook of your neck, where she slept the most.

With the tv playing on mute you found yourself drifting off as the flashes of light brought you a weird peace. You were settling into it just fine, "Y/N?" then you were being startled. Your entire body shivered as her rasp tickled the thin skin of your neck, once she kissed you in apology you found it in you to urge her on.

"You are the most beautiful partner I could have ever been blessed with—your love is the atlas of my hope."

"That was a really dramatic way to tell me you love me," you teased, voice grumbly as you fought sleep.

"Goodnight," she groaned and you giggled, "Your love is the atlas of my hope too Natty; I adore you, truly."

The redhead nipped your neck in retaliation but it was a ruse as her hand intertwined with yours atop of your daughter's back, nestled beneath the fluffy blanket.

Healing was a process that Natasha never expected to occur in her lifetime, with the blood in her ledger she always thought she was undeserving. Then there you were, at the ready to wash her hands clean in your personal oasis of understanding and righteousness.

Natalia Romanova was a victim of her circumstances, built only to lay waste to entire regimes, her story however was the greatest one to topple. All because she met a couple of people who saw her heart. Natasha Romanoff was a woman who was painfully reborn, whose entire purpose now lay beside her, at peace.

"I am not a monster," she finally repeated, just after you slipped off to sleep. "I am worthy of this love."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff hurt / comfort #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x female reader #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #black widow #black widow imagine #black widow x reader

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tuliptic · 1 year

Text

"You're the death of me," they said. But why? And how?

Piles go from left to right, photos are taken by me, everything is literally by me. And I do not consent my work being used by third parties in other websites as well.

Now. Breathe in with me, and then breathe out. Picked your pile? Let's find out what are the answers

Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever you feel like it. If it doesn’t resonate, it’s okay to just drop it.

Content warning: Sexual topics mentioned briefly without much details. Just to let y’all know beforehand.

Decks used: Luna Cat Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Kawaii Tarot Deck, Sweet Dreams Oracle Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck, self made decks.

Pile 1:

With The Emperor being the overall energy in this pile, what I’m seeing here is some self demanding, where you have high expectations of yourself, and others as well at times. You have your idea of how you hold your destiny, and you often expect the same of others, probably why you may feel weird that people are not willing to improve or why would you have an FS and all those questions. Change is also very prominent here, where you live for changes, and changes often come to you. What I’m mainly feeling here is a soulmate relationship (there’s The World and The Lover) coming out for you in other places and… Yeah, just take it as you see fit. Cuz with all the questions you have about yourself and others, your FS is still head over heels, madly thinking about you all time.

Emotional attraction: Three of Cups rx

Pfft for some feeling, your FS might want to start a fling with you, something short, something not so serious. But oh how the tables have turned, cuz seeing you with how you’re not someone to mess with may make them want to have you. It’s the cliche “I can fix him” trope, except you have no intention of fixing anyone. It’s just they’re learning from you about the ways of life and have been slowly seriously attracted by you. And they change. There’s a Death card in the entire reading and it symbolizes the dying of old ways and embracing the new ways. The catalyst? It’s you. They’re changing for the better because of you as they wanted to be the right one to be by your side, to be someone you’re willing to show off.

Emotional addiction: Eight of Cups rx

And now we come to this card. Do y’all know one of the messages for this card is fear of change? There we go! There’s a lot of fear in your FS, but that somehow gets them more addicted to you. Fear of you leaving, fear of being left behind in terms of work progress or status in life, and many other more fears. You never wanted him to feel those emotions, but they just… Sorta has it. Prolly cuz of the trauma they experienced when they were younger. But all these fears just made them want to be better, pushed them to be better to be your equal. No, not masochistic tendencies but just… You. It’s all because it’s you and they want to achieve what you’ve achieved, so that you can look into their eyes and say “I noticed you, I saw you, I’m looking at you now.” kinda thing.

Physical attraction: The Fool rx

This pile is starting to make more and more sense cuz The Fool in reverse gives me the feeling of maturity, as it’s the opposite of a fun and new beginning. You prolly have had a lot going through in your life, specifically school, career or family. Hence, there’s this old soul kinda vibe in you, where you may unconsciously present the more mature side of you. You may be young, yes, but people tend to say you look older than your age because of how your eyes focus on things, how your thoughts have formed you to be who you show to the outer world. Which was probably what made them want to have a fling with you because they wanted to see what it’s like beneath that hard shell.

Mental stimulation: Six of Cups rx

Honestly speaking, at this point I’m already tired of talking about mental maturity here but still the cards are telling me that. As your FS gets to know you more, they noticed that you’re working on yourself more and that you’re resolving any childhood issues, any traumas that have made you who you are today. While you appreciate being the strong you right now, wounds still need to be healed. This part of it just makes them amazed. They’ve prolly never needed to go through this and don't know the difficulties in healing your inner child. But they are willing to learn. They wanted to know more about you, about how amazing you’ve flourished, and they fall in love with you again and again.

Other forms of addiction: Knight of Swords rx

-Covers face in agony- ‘Aite let’s get back in. Your FS prolly has a tendency of annoying you just to hear whatever sarcasm or witty words you’ll be throwing back at him. I swear to god I don’t think they have a masochistic personality but the cards seem to tell me otherwise. ANYWAYS. Back to what we’re talking about here. They prolly like how you (lightly) hit them when they said something annoying or cheesy, since you’re prolly not very used to them. Or maybe they teased you a lot, thinking you didn’t know what they’re talking about, while you understood every single word and retorted back in the same way/language.

Remember what I said earlier in the first paragraph? About this being a soulmate relationship? Yeah. There may be fights and disagreements in life, but y’all know how to resolve it instead of sweeping it under the carpet. You both understand the importance of connecting with each other and that’s one thing that’s very telling. You two attracted each other into your lives and you slowly let go of whatever self criticism you have.

Ooh, one thing I need to share with you is that they like you, they love you a lot. They may act all nonchalant or fun and cheesy, but deep down in their hearts they’re really REALLY madly in love with you. They want you to hug them and to love them, just like how much they love you, just like how much their life depends on you showering them with the love they crave for. They are your other half, and y’all need to explore the ways of balancing the relationship because the past may be a ‘lil rocky.

Pile 2:

The overall energy of this pile is hella intense. When the two cards fell out, I wanted to take only one but then upon looking at them, yeah they're gonna be a pair, cuz it's The Tower and The Devil. Personally I feel that there's no black and white in the energy present here. It's just, intense. No it's not all over the place, it's just at a place and it's building its strength there.

I'm trying to keep this PG 13 but not gonna lie, it does give me a huge sexual energy between the both of you. No one should be judging you on that, not even yourself. Some may be easily sexually attracted to other people so yeah.

Emotional attraction: The Chariot rx

They like how things build up, letting the pining and tension between you two simmer. Or maybe how you’ve put a distance between you and them, only allowing them to slowly approach you. They like the pursuit, the chase, the patience and strategic planning to approach you. It's like... Extending the sexual tension in between you two. Yes it's there but instead of raving and rushing through it, it's gonna be like... Let it level up slowly until you're madly in love with them, until you can't think of anyone else other than them.

Emotional addiction: Eight of Pentacles

They get hooked onto you by seeing how you've been working on yourself, how you've been wanting to master a particular skill, or multiple skills. I'm not surprised if this pile is learning a lot of things and wants to get good at it. Them seeing you getting better at saying the corniest pick up line just makes them fall for you even more. The way you focus on getting your shit done? Perfect. It'll make them torn cuz they want you to do your best and yet they also wanna kiss you and tell you that you're amazing. Honestly speaking, having both is possible you'll need to tell them that.

Physical attraction: Page of Swords

There's this youthful look/glow that you have. It's not gonna be about the appearance but the energy you give out. Probably have air influence in your rising sign (signs, degrees, Mercury, Venus or Uranus conjuncting your AC). There's this liveliness that you expressed when they first noticed about you, and that constantly be one thing they looked for in you. They love the air energy of yours and will get worried if you're not as upbeat as you were, or not as witty as you used to be. For some reason, the way you send text may also say something about it? Do you use a lot of emojis in your text? That too.

Mental stimulation: Six of Pentacles rx

Shrewd with your words. You're actually someone who's really smart and has a lot of concrete knowledge. Instead of the air type of intelligence, where one knows a lot of things and random knowledge, your sort of intelligence is something that you've learnt throughout the years, through your pains and tears. Those are what we're talking about here. And it's gonna take a lot of probing and coaxing from their side to get to know you better. You're the exact opposite of an open book; you're a sealed book. And guess what? They have the magic key to unseal you. You trust them and are willing to share about yourself, but those were already ingrained and you, to the point you don't know how to tell your story, which part of the plot to focus on and all. And this is what stimulates them the most.

Other forms of addiction: Two of Pentacles

For some reason, this balance over here is giving me peak Libra energy, of wanting things to be fair and square. Yess boo I'm looking at you. Instead of talking about addiction, it's more of how they're attracted to your need to have things in balance, and want things to be fair, equal give and take, especially in terms of money. It's giving me the feeling of gift gifting, where you match the same with your FS.

Another thing I'm picking up on is that you tend to have great guts or intuition on certain things with people around you, for people around you. But not towards yourself. It's time to trust your feelings cuz there will be a lot of downloads from the universe coming to you, and you're called to accept the changes coming your way because that's what your FS is bringing every single day. If you're single, it's time to manifest your dreams, desires and goals.

You activated so many potentials in your FS, expanded the view they have towards the world. This partnership that you two share holds a lot more meaning that you could never think of. Juno is significant here too so you may check your Juno sign in astrology.

Also, don't hide things from your FS because you think it's too much for them. They rather two to share the burden instead of you shouldering everything. You guys will share a lovely marriage together, so please let your thoughts out and share them together. They're prolly insecure as well, and they are head over heels with you cuz you're always in their head, making them unable to think of anything else. You're literally the death of them.

Pile 3:

The overall energy that you give your FS is that you’re not one to be messed with, that you have this air of regality over you, and you’re sitting in your throne, knowing what you want and what you work for. You steer your way through the sea of life, no matter how hard and harsh the waves may be. These all made your FS head over heels for you, cuz the confidence you have is different from the atrocities others have.

Emotional attraction: Wheel of Fortune

This card appeared twice in the entire spread and I really like to think that this is a fated connection, something that’s like soulmate. They’re somehow attracted to you upon meeting you or interacting with you, and slowly but surely, they fell for you. Sounds cliche, but that’s what the cards say, not me. Also, instead of saying it’s purely fate, I strongly believe that you’ve been working on yourself and your FS sees that. Whatever effort you’ve put in working with yourself is seen. They see it and acknowledge it, appreciating how you’ve strived to make yourself a better person.

Emotional addiction: Nine of Pentacles rx

Somehow somewhat, there’s this sense that they like how you’re not independent at times. You’re sitting on your throne, having everything and anything you want. Yet sometimes, you just want to act spoiled and lean on someone while not giving a shit with the responsibilities in life. They like how you trust them to the point you let your shield down with them, allowing them to see your most vulnerable side and letting them pamper you. With this, it makes it seem that they have a reason to stay by your side, although they know very well that the entire relationship is balanced.

Physical attraction: Six of Pentacles

The way you’re generous with the people in need, the people you care for, and most importantly, generous with yourself. It’s very obvious in how you care for people, and there may be a chance that one of your love languages is gift giving. But yeah, that is something that caught their attention, especially when you spend money to "decorate" yourself, and people also do the same for you because you helped them too. Something here gives me the feeling that some of you may like having inks on you, or have the habit of writing things/reminders on your hands. Man imagine you writing something on your hand and your FS just takes your hand over in theirs to see what you've written. That just happened in my head okay.

Mental stimulation: Page of Wands

Creativity is something that links you both together. You both have some artistic traits that you two interrelate. For some reason, I thought of one composing music for a poem the other wrote, or one drawing a comic for a fic the other wrote. You both like to keep things fresh and explore various topics, and they enjoy their time with you a whole lot cuz it's never boring or dull with you. There's also a touch of youth here where they feel like they're constantly learning new things about the world, learning new things about your interests, and most of all, learning new things about you. There are so many layers to you and they'd love to understand you and get to know you more.

Other forms of addiction: Four of Cups rx

Once again, instead of saying there's addiction, I feel that this card here tells that you've freed them from their stagnation, from whatever they've been holding in the past, and all they focus on right now is to see how they can move forward with you in the future. Just a scenario to explain this: They may have had a crush in the past and it's just difficult to move past. But then you appeared and slowly replaced the crush he had on the other person, and now they're focusing on you, with every intention to grow with you instead of standing in the same place. It's as though their eyes are now opened and they know what they want to focus on, and they work on it.

The theme of stagnancy is pretty prominent in this reading, and it's highly cuz of you. This is something very different from what I've written above cuz this is definitely you. You've been unwilling to get out of your shell, only wanting to stay in your mind. And at times, this trait of yours makes them want to shake those thoughts out of your head. High possibilities that you may feel yourself are unworthy of love and think that no person that charming and attractive will be romantically interested in you.

This is your calling to surrender the self-limiting beliefs and to welcome the new magic into your life. It's difficult, yeah, but baby steps. I believe this community is with you to celebrate every little success you've achieved. Time to put this coping mechanism of not wanting to feel disappointment and rewire the thoughts that failure is never a disappointment. We're all just small beings in life so what's wrong in falling a little? You're not gonna be like Evergreen being stuck at the Suez Canal anyways.

By surrendering the old past, only you will be awakened and will be reborn into limitless possibilities, heck, even things you've never been able to imagine. Your guides are watching over you and have wanted to work with you, to show you the miracles of life, to show you how wonderful the world can be, how abundant in blessings and support you are.

There are times that your FS may wanna confront you and your toxic behaviours and you may question if you were meant to be together. But know that even the best team out there takes time to work together. That's the same with you both, where you two are the strongest combination you'll ever have to venture into a future together. You're their first and their last, and they wanna hold your hand and dance with you. Don't think lowly of yourself, you can't imagine how lonely they feel without you by their side and how much they want your presence.

You may not see it now, but you're a butterfly. When the time comes, you will be reborn again and transformed anew.

#tuliptic #🌷#pick a card #pick a pile #future spouse reading #tarot #tarot reading #i cant believe im doing this already #like.... tagging to get exposure #but eh theres this side of me where i still type my thoughts in tags #anyways #pile 1's fs legit reminded me of jung wooyoung #dont ask me why #I'll tell you why #my brain went to the part where he was at the beach and he yelled #'YOU GONNA SPANK ME??'#and boooyyyyyyyyy i wanna push you into the waters

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youwouldneverbreakthechain · 1 year

Text

I don't like the Found Family trope.

There, did I get your attention? It's true, but the question is, why is Guardians of the Galaxy still one of my favorite stories in any medium ever?

Something really clicked for me with the ending of Vol. 3 (spoilers ahead, natch). The team broke up and that kind of development is usually heartbreaking, because we love the team, they love each other, now that they've found each other why should they ever part ways?

The answer is that they're a family, and that's what families do. Growing up means leaving the parents who raised you and finding a path of your own, maybe to someday continue the cycle with kids of your own, but never losing what you got from your first family. Those people, who you can't choose, will always be a part of you.

Each of the Guardians, aside from Drax, had their childhoods interrupted by traumatic events. They didn't get to finish growing up naturally, and that loss hounded them all their lives. When they found each other they began to heal, but here's what I didn't realize until the end of the trilogy: the family that they found with each other wasn't the kind that you make when you grow up. It's the kind that you grow out of.

From the beginning, Peter has shown signs of "Peter Pan Syndrome," acting like a little boy even though he's highly skilled, courageous, and compassionate. His maturity gradually began to show through, but one quirk that kept coming up was his refusal to return to Earth. No good reason for it except that he couldn't bear the reminder of his mother and he was ashamed to face his grandfather. He can handle it now because his life with the Guardians gave him the stability he needed to become a true adult.

Gamora's new incarnation doesn't need the Guardians because she found the Ravagers instead. We don't know much about them but I expect that what they did for Yondu, they'll do for her too. In the meantime, Nebula's had a few good years of being loved and now she can follow the footsteps of the Gamora who was lost, aside from falling for Peter, because that's unlikely to ever work again.

Groot's been the most fortunate, not having his youth cut short or taking any serious trauma since he sprouted. Eventually he may want to strike out on his own, but until then it's good that he can stick with Rocket.

Mantis seemed more aware than anyone of their internal struggles, including her own. Which is appropriate, her being an empath and all. She really made the boldest possible move, going it alone, and I'm proud of her. Hoping she'll make an appearance in The Marvels or something else before reuniting with Peter and/or the Guardians.

Drax is a special case and the one who I thought was most likely to die, since it seemed like his arc was all wrapped up: he had his childhood before we met him and it was his adulthood that was ripped away from him. Revenge was his entire deal and Ronan and Thanos are dead now, so what's left for Drax? Well, it turns out revenge doesn't have to be his entire deal and now I'm embarrassed I ever thought otherwise.

Rocket...oh, Rocket. We always knew that he was something other than what nature had intended, and that was on top of the nonstop physical and emotional abuse, but now it turns out he already lost the only three people who put anything good into his sad little life. Since there was nothing to salvage from his upbringing, he was the one who needed the Guardians the most, so he's the only founding member to stay. But no mistake, it matters that he's staying as the leader. He's not alone, but he's not under anyone's control, either. He knows who is now and he knows his worth.

The "don't call me a raccoon" running joke always bothered me a little but I never dreamed it would have a payoff like it did in Vol. 3. Rocket claiming his full name is much more than a nod to his comic origins. It's his understanding of where he began and the injustice that was done to him, his acceptance that he wasn't at fault for the deaths of his first companions and that he does deserve to be loved by the Guardians.

That's the foundation that lets everyone part ways without having to ask each other if this means their relationships are over. As far as I've seen, no other found family in fiction has reached this point - the team is generally the endgame, and if someone leaves, things will never be the same again.

In a real family, a good one, when someone leaves we celebrate. Congratulations on your first apartment. Good luck at college. Blessings on your union. Just remember, you can always come home again. Our arms are open for you.

#guardians of the galaxy vol. 3 #gotg vol. 3 #gotg vol 3 spoilers #peter quill #gamora #drax the destroyer #nebula #mantis #groot #rocket raccoon #found family trope #guardians of the galaxy

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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

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Hi, if your schedule is not full, I would like to place an order 💗 I was thinking of something with Az x f!reader, where Az has known reader for a short time, and she's a Peregrin of the Dawn Court, so she has feathered wings. And Az praises her wings, without knowing that praising a Peregrin's wings is like inviting him to dinner or for s*x... Lol

This is kinda weird lol, but I wanted something funny and cute, and this came to mind. Feel free to decline, and thank you for your attention. 💗

Peregryn.

Azriel x f!Reader

Masterlist.

Warnings; mentions of sex, abuse and trauma.

I hope this is what you had in mind when you requested this. It's not weird it was really fun.

Being a Peregryn was a torture while Amarantha ruled, you had to see some of your friends who disappointed her getting their feathers ripped from their wings… you had nightmares for a while, hearing their screams and seeing the agony in their faces again and again. After Feyre saved Prythian, Thesan decided to send small parts of your legion to Velaris in order to train with the Illyrian general Cassian and to heal their internal trauma. Everyone was so thankful that Rhysand decided to share the hidden city with them. You stayed more than everyone there, being Thesan’s lover’s -the captain of your legion- best friend meant you were trusted with overseeing the training and reporting back. That’s how you met the night court’s shadowsinger. He kept you company while you watched the training and one day offered to show you the city.

˚₊‧꒰ა ཐི♡ཋྀ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You decided to wear a white dress with some gold details and styled your hair in a high bun. Azriel was waiting for you on the balcony of the house of wind, you checked his appearance and noticed how different you were. He was dressed in black, and his huge membranous wings shined in the dim light of the stars. You stared in awe for some minutes and then made yourself known, his shadows had probably informed him already but he didn’t show it. “You look really good.” He complimented as he scanned your form. “I like the way your wings look in contrast to the night sky”.

You almost choked on air, a blush creeping on your face. Was he inviting you in his bed? No, maybe he doesn’t know. You thought and decided to wait to see if he says something about your wings again.

“Uhm thank you” you smiled and hoped he couldn’t smell your arousal. This was an automatic response for a Peregryn when someone complimented their wings and when that someone is so hot like Azriel you were surprised that you didn’t pounce on him.

You both took off and after a few minutes you landed on the main street. The city was full of life, the residents seemed so happy and carefree, Rhysand made a great sacrifice, but it was worth it. You thought as you glanced around.

Azriel was explaining how the city was built and he showed you his favorite stores and restaurants. You were currently sitting on a bench with two small bowls of ice cream. “I love this city so much” you exclaimed and pointed around. “Its perfect” Azriel said and nodded.

“And so bright, I didn’t expect this from the night court”.

“Well, we call this the court of dreams, if you go to the court of nightmares, it will probably be like how you expect the night court to be” he shrugged. “Your wings though look magnificent now that there is more light” he continued.

You couldn’t hold back the moan that left you, your face burned, and you looked the other way hoping he didn’t hear you. Azriel was staring at the side of your face, his eyebrows furrowed. “Did you… did you just..?” he was confused. “Yeah I just moaned” you murmured and hid your face in your palms.

“But its your fault” you exclaimed. “Complimenting a Peregryn’s wings is like inviting them to your bed. Males can’t control it so better watch what you say to them, unless you’re into it” you shrugged. Azriel was gaping at you, his cheeks turning pink and his shadows shooting up to hide him. “Oh my… I’m so sorry” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it.” You smiled a bit disappointed because he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He noticed.

“So if I want to have you in my bed I should just compliment your wings?” he asked.

“Yup” you nodded.

“Okay thanks for the information” you quirked your brow at that but didn’t say anything else.

After seeing more of the city, you decided to get back into the house and as you landed you saw Cassian, Rhysand, Feyre and Nesta sitting in the main room with a bottle of wine.

“Hey you’re back! Join us!” Cassian boomed.

Azriel frowned and opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off by walking to the couch and taking a seat. His wings slumped behind him and he took a seat next to you.

“You thought you could have her for yourself huh?” Cassian teased him and Azriel almost growled.

“I can have her for myself” he shrugged. “I’m right here” you lifted your hand annoyed by their conversation.

“You know, your wings are so beautiful, and they look so soft... can I touch them?” Azriel smirked as you shuddered. Cassian was gaping at you and Azriel continued.

“So delicate and bright… just perf..” you cut him off by jumping on your feet and pulling his arm.

“All for myself” Azriel winked at Cassian as you dragged him away.

Requests are open but delayed. Princess chapter coming tomorrow.

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yelenasdiary · 1 year

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Hey can I request a fic?

You can choose the partner. So readers past relationship was very abusive in many ways and the avengers helped her get out of there. One day the ex comes back, you can choose moment and place and when they (also choose gender) maybe tell reader to come with them reader starts to go shaking??? Like if the ex was so manipulative that we don’t have another option (like killgrave or something) then the avengers help again and happy ending.

Sorry for the confusing ask I just got the idea and wanted to share it with you. Feel free to ignore 😊❤️

-🐚

Unwanted Visitor

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: When Natasha is away on a mission with Clint, you think you’re safe at the compound with the others, you think..

AC: So sorry it took me a while to get this out! I hope this was what you were after x

"Oh, come on Thor, what's the secret?!" you chuckle, throwing yourself on the sofa after several attempts to lift Mjolnir from besides his feet. "How do I lift it?" you asked. Thor broke into a loud laugh, "you've got to be worthy of it" he tells you. "Oh, so you're telling me I am not worthy?" you cocked a brow, playfully crossing your arms over your chest. "Maybe one day you just might be" the god winked.

"I'll show you, one day I will be!" you stood up from the sofa, "I'm going to take my afternoon walk before Nat gets back" you inform the Avenger. It's been well over a year since Thor and the other Avengers helped you leave your abusive ex. Since then, you've always made it a point to tell somebody what you were doing or where you were going. It was more for security than anything.

While you were on your afternoon walk, Natasha returned earlier then expected. Thor told her where you were which gave her some time to shower and unpack her things. Your walk was peaceful for the most part, the fresh air was just what you needed to keep you from going insane while waiting for Nat to come home.

Your relationship with Natasha was relatively new but exciting. Natasha did everything to make sure you were always comfortable, she never forced you to do anything, never second questioned you, never raised her voice at you and never, ever laid a hand on you. She understood that things would take a little extra time for you to come around and feel completely comfortable and she was always on top of your triggers. She'd been gone for a little over three weeks and to say you didn't miss her would be the biggest lie that would leave your lips.

"There you are!" the familiar voice stopped you in your tracks, looking up from your feet you were met with the eyes that haunted your dreams for months. "I've been looking for you, I was just about to knock on the door" your ex added with a soft smile that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall. Your eyes were glued to them, the world around you came to a stop, your feet felt super glued to the ground as your ex took a few steps closer to you.

"I know it's a bit of a shock but I'm back baby! I got the help I needed, we can go home now" their words went through one ear and out the other. The lump in your throat only grew bigger, screams for help echoed in your mind just hoping that Wanda was close by to hear them. "I'm so sorry I hurt you baby, you know I didn't mean it. I was just upset and wasn't thinking straight" the words left her lips like everything she put you through truly didn't matter. Gently she cupped your face and kissed your forehead while you stood, frozen and staring into space as if your soul had left your body. "Cutie pie, are you okay?" she asked, the triggering pet name brought you back to their eyes.

"W-what a-are you d-doing here?" you asked in a stutter. She chuckled lightly, "I'm here for you baby, I want us back. I miss you, I promised you'd I'd come back" her eyes were cold as ice. She moved her hands from your face and placed them on either side of your arms, her grip tightened when your eyes flickered towards the main entrance of the compound.

"Forget about them baby, they stole you from me. They don't want the best for you like I do, remember all the plans we made? We can finally go and make them relative, I've got the car packed, all your things you left at our apartment, let's just go baby, please"

"I c-c-can't"

"You can. Do you think that the Avengers want you sticking around? You're not like them baby. You can't help them; they aren't good for you. Always running off acting like they make the world a better place, leaving you all alone. Anything could happen to you baby, who is there to protect you huh? Nobody"

Your eyes flickered over to the compound once more as her words soaked into your racing mind. "If they cared about you, cutie pie, they would never leave you alone. Would they?" Her left hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at her, "would they" she repeated. Just like old habits, you remembered to keep her happy. "Never upset her" your mind told you as you nodded to her question.

"That's my girl, come on baby. Let's just get out of here, okay"

Again, you nodded, slowly. You felt your arms shaking as your ex turned you around, your back now to the compound and your legs felt like jelly as you took your first steps away from the place you felt safest.

"Y/n?!" You heard Natasha's voice call.

"Great!" Your ex sighed as they turned around. Natasha came walking in your direction, closely followed by the other Avengers. "Back off Natasha, she doesn't want to be here anymore!" your ex spoke, keeping a firm grip on your arm.

"That's not at all what she told me" Wanda replied.

"You know, you're trespassing on private property and from memory, I think you're breaking the restraining order Y/n as against you" Tony pitched in.

"A restraining order you all brain washed her to get! Leave us alone! Tell them baby, tell them you don't want to be here anymore" your ex harshly turned you around to face the people you called family. Your eyes instantly connected with Natasha; she could see the fear deeply in your eyes as she mouthed "it's okay" to assure you that nothing was going to happen. "Tell them!" your ex snapped, squeezing your arm tighter but even though you could open your mouth, the words couldn't come out.

Natasha stepped forward, never taking her eyes off you. "Let her go!" Natasha spoke sternly. "Or what? huh?" your ex replied, pulling you closer into her side. A glow of red circles around the wrist of your ex, forcing her to let you go. Natasha caught you before you fell to your knees, pulling you closer to her as you broke into tears.

"I think we should have a chat" Thor smirked as he walked towards your ex, taking her arm in his hand. "Hey! let me go" was all you heard your ex say before Thor had taken them above the clouds. "Get them inside, Nat. We'll take care of this" Steve looked at the two of you, your tears slowly starting to soak Natasha's shirt.

----

Later that night you were cuddled up to Natasha, her arms wrapped protectively around you while you both watched your favorite movie. "I'm sorry, Nat" you spoke, your voice still shaky from everything. "Don't be sorry darling, it's okay. You know I'd never let anything happen to you, ever" Nat replied with a kiss on the top of your head.

"I'm not sure why I even thought about going with her"

"You weren't in the right headspace, you weren't thinking" Natasha assures you.

"But Nat, if it was that easy for her to have control over me again" you sat up and looked at your girlfriend with tears once again building in your eyes, "what happens it this happens again and none of you are here to save me again?" you added. Natasha brushed a lock of hair behind your ear and gently wiped your tears, "it'll never happen again, I promise baby" she gently strokes your cheek with her thumb. "Nobody is going to miss her, lets just say that" she adds.

"Th-they killed her?" you questioned with a frown.

"No darling. She's in Asgard now, she won't ever hurt you again. I promise. Thor said she'll make for a great maid"

You couldn't help but chuckle, "I'm not sure about that, they never were much of a cleaner" you joked before crashing gently into Nat, letting her wrap her arms around you once more. "You're safe now my beautiful love" Natasha whispered, placing another kiss on the top of your head.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #avengers #marvel #fanfiction #black widow

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7-wonders · 10 months

Text

The Nightmare

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x reader

Summary: Your daughter has a nightmare, and Morpheus is the one to soothe her.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Just a short little something to get back into writing after my unexpected break. This is in the same universe as "Fatherhood," where you're a single parent with a daughter named Caroline. I just love unexpected parental relationships, okay? (no this certainly doesn't say anything about me and any childhood trauma I have)

It’s been a long day by the time you’ve finally gotten Caroline to go to sleep, and you fall back onto your couch with a heavy sigh. You love your daughter, truly–she’s the light of your life. But good god, why do children not have an off switch? Why do they have to be “go-go-go” from the moment they wake up until they literally pass out from exhaustion?

“Long day?” Morpheus asks, having appeared from thin air.

It’s so familiar now that you don’t even flinch when he occupies space that, moments ago, was empty. You can hear the teasing in his voice, but you barely even have the energy to open your eyes and look at him.

“You have no idea.”

Morpheus joins you on the couch, and you lean your head against him with a sigh. He smiles down at you softly, brushing a couple of stray locks of hair behind your ear. “Might I help you relax after your long day, then?”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” you say with a smile.

Instead of actually doing any sort of relaxing, you somehow end up making out with your primordial, all-powerful boyfriend on the couch like you’re a couple of teenagers. Par for the course, you have to admit; though Morpheus may not seem it, he’s extremely affectionate, and you’re more than willing to accommodate him.

When crying starts up in earnest from Caroline’s room, you frown against Morpheus’s lips. She’s historically been a good sleeper, sleeping through the night since she was a baby. To hear her crying concerns you, though most things regarding your child concern you. It just comes with the territory of being a parent. Still, you try to ignore it and continue kissing, hoping that she’s just restless in her sleep.

You’re already up and heading to her bedroom by the time she calls out for you, Morpheus completely forgotten.

The light from the hallway illuminates her tear-streaked, flushed face when you open up her bedroom door. She has the blankets pulled up all the way around her, with only her face peeking out of the opening.

“Baby,” you coo, sitting down on the bed and letting her crawl into your lap and bury her face in your neck. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a nightmare,” she whimpers.

“Oh, that must have been so scary,” you commiserate, feeling her nod against you.

“I looked and I looked and I looked, but I couldn’t find you!” she cries out, devolving into sobs that shake her entire body. You hush her and rock her, reassuring her that you’re right here and that you aren’t going anywhere.

“It’s okay though, you know that nightmares aren’t–”

You stop yourself before you say what you’ve always said to comfort her, which is that nightmares aren’t real. If there’s one thing you’ve learned since you began to see Morpheus romantically, it’s that dreams and nightmares are very much real. How are you supposed to help your daughter now when your normal placation is a lie?

You panic, your eyes searching the air as you try to think of something to say. They land on Morpheus, who stands silhouetted in the doorframe. He enters the bedroom, which you hadn’t expected. Even more unexpected, he kneels down next to you and places a hand on Caroline’s back.

“Dweam,” Caroline says when she realizes he’s here, in the little kid way that always makes your heart ache.

“I heard that you had a nightmare,” Morpheus says in lieu of a greeting.

“A scary one,” she insists, not that either of you needed any convincing.

“Sometimes they are, yes. Though, a very reliable source has informed me that they are far more scared of you than you are of them.”

Caroline looks up at Morpheus with wide eyes. “Really?”

“Oh yes. Especially when you growl at them.”

Caroline giggles against him, and you stifle your own laugh in your hand. “You’re silly.”

“It is true. Show me your best growl?”

She scrunches up her face, bears her teeth, and roars like a little bear. Morpheus nods seriously, while you hide your face in his shoulder so that you can laugh in peace.

“Very frightening.”

One of the many things that you love about Morpheus is that he doesn’t treat your daughter like a child. No, she’s a person, only small, with thoughts and emotions that deserve to be taken seriously.

“Would you like to hear a story?” Morpheus asks when it’s apparent that any sign of tears is long gone.

Caroline perks up and nods. She loves Morpheus’s stories; he’s not called the Prince of Stories for no reason. If you’re being honest, you love his stories too.

Only at her say so does Morpheus maneuver his long legs to fit onto Caroline’s toddler bed, with you shifting effortlessly to the floor to allow the two their space. Caroline snuggles into Morpheus’s embrace, and her thumb goes to her mouth as she looks up at him. After he thinks for a moment, likely flipping through his mental arsenal, he decides on a tale of a little nightmare that didn’t know what her purpose was.

By the time he reaches the climax–the little nightmare was actually a little dream, whose purpose was to comfort children having nightmares–Caroline is snoring softly against him, and she has been for a few minutes. You’re a little in awe of just how easily Morpheus got her calmed down and back asleep, with no magic other than his voice. You wish you had your phone with you, so you could capture this memory forever.

He disentangles himself from Caroline, taking extra care not to jostle her any more than absolutely necessary. You pull the covers back up over her, kissing her little forehead as you do so. Morpheus smoothes a gentle hand through her tangled curls—you pretend not to notice, instead waiting for him at the bedroom door.

When you’ve successfully shut the door without waking her up, you look up at Morpheus. “Thank you.”

His strong brow furrows in confusion. “For what?”

“Getting Caroline back to sleep. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense. She was disturbed by one of my own creations; it was the least I could do.”

You almost laugh at just how much of a non-issue this was for him. In his mind, it makes perfect sense that he would obviously comfort his lover’s daughter. For you, though, it means the world, and you tell him as much.

He shifts uncomfortably under your praise, and you’re practically waiting to see him blush. Alas, not this time. “She is your daughter,” is all that he says in response.

When he tries to kiss you again, you yawn. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I actually am tired.”

“Shall I see you off to my realm as well?” Morpheus asks smoothly, kissing at your jaw instead.

“Hmm, as long as I’ll see you there?”

“That can certainly be arranged.”

You know how much Morpheus’s realm means to him; it quite literally is him. It’s not lost on you, what it means for him to so easily shift things around just so that he can spend as much time with you as possible.

You’ll never take for granted just how much he loves you and, much to your surprise and delight, your daughter.

#dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #morpheus imagine #morpheus #the sandman imagine #the sandman

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jeon-ify · 5 days

Text

on live - nakamoto yuta

pairing: yuta (nct) x female reader *

a/n: hello!! this is my first nct smut!! ofc its gonna be of my bias????? yuta is rlly hot in this one and hes super super dom and mean but recently ive been into cnc (its a trauma response or a coping mechanism mannn idk) and i had a dream about yuta last night so i think this would be THE ONE! this might be my most toe curling and nastiest and most graphic smut i’ve ever written and tbh i love it 😁

in which yuta fucks you and makes you touch yourself on camera for him to watch while he’s on tour.

warnings: swearing, dom!yuta x sub!reader, unprotected sex (yeee a big no no) mentions of tossing out birth control (ib @justaaveragereader ), yuta calls reader a bitch, slut, whore, cnc!play, sextape in the making, pussy slapping, titty slapping and sucking, face slapping, spit play, breeding kink, female anatomy, she/her reader, some?jaehyun? sex on live, if i missed anything lmkk

genre: smut, dark romance

mdni. 18+

enjoy nasties

“wait, why are you buying lingerie? isn’t yuta leaving in like 3 days?” your friend asks you as you both decided to shop around for a set of lingerie to prepare for a film that your boyfriend was oh so excited to make.

as you both walked through the last couple of aisles, you find a gorgeous black and pink set. you already knew yuta would go insane over it, already imagining the different positions and scenarios he’d play out for you.

lately, yuta’s been into cnc play. something that he was so unsure and insecure about; but when the topic came up, he brought it up to you. you were always open to trying new things with yuta, as long as you both knew where you stood, and that there was a line.

“girl come look, oh my god…” you hold up the piece for you friend to see, watching the way her eyes shift to the corset area.

“good luck walking normally for the next week. he’s gonna fuck your brains out!” she says, almost too loud for the crowd.

you pick out your size and check out to head home. you throw your bags in the car, finally getting a chance to text your man.

my yuta 🤍: hey baby, i’m on my way home. i’m gonna stop at target really fast

my yuta 🤍: are you home?

y/n: hi baby!!!!!!!!! i’m not home yet

y/n: i’m almost there tho

my yuta 🤍: okay gimme like 20 minutes bb

y/n: okay :3

you pull into your driveway, grabbing your things and rushing inside to hurry into your new set. you quickly showered and did your hair, spraying it to hold the wet hair look. you rubbed on body oil followed by a body shimmer, yuta’s favorite thing you do. you sprayed perfume on your ankles, wrists and neck, wherever yuta would be closest to you.

you also put on a touch of makeup, as yuta loved when you wore makeup, just so he can watch it run down your face when he fucks your throat.

after 20 minutes of getting yourself ready for your man, you unlock the front door, running up the stairs for yuta to see you waiting on your knees in the middle of the bed. you calmed your breathing, nervousness clouding your entire body when you hear the front door slowly open.

the front door was never unlocked unless something was going on— and this had yuta’s blood rushing, knowing you were home with the door open already for him.

“baby? i’m home, why’s the door unlocked?” he yells for you, getting no answer— expecting him to walk upstairs looking for you. you hear him putting some bags down, listening to the jingling of keys and shoes being thrown around.

“my love, i’m not playing this game.” he sighs. you hear him finally walking up the stairs, blood rushing to your ovaries and making your head spin in excitement. he opens your bedroom door, taking in the view before him. you’re on your knees in the middle of the silk covered king bed, with a pink maid lingerie set on, your wet hair almost coming down to your breasts, shifting with every deep breath you take.

you hurriedly finish setting up the camera on the chair across from bed, making sure your hair and outfit looks perfect— if you’re posting this on twitter, it has to be astounding.

you rush to get back into position, hearing yuta’s footsteps approaching. he nears the room, leaving the door completely open. his gaze darkens, curiosity at the scene before him is making his cock hard. he can only wonder what’ll happen next.

“fuckin’ hell. this what you were doing? look at you, pretty girl. is this new?” he walks up to you, reaching for the straps on your fabric, admiring the way your clean skin is perfectly suited by the set you’ve had on.

“all for you, baby. wanted it to be a surprise when you got home. i remember you mentioned you wanted to try cnc, so i got excited.” you breathily laugh. yuta’s fingers run up your neck and down to the valley of your breasts.

“yeah? good memory, baby. what do you say i rip this off you and pound your pretty cunt, hm?” his long hair bounces off his shoulders when he stands up and undresses himself. slides off his white top, his black trousers following suite.

he doesn’t notice the camera at first, but when he catches you looking at the phone on the chair every 20 seconds to make sure it hasn’t fell, his cock (impossibly) gets harder and harder.

“yuta, aren’t you tired from work?” you pretend to push him away from you, but yuta doesn’t budge. he leans over your smaller figure, planting a kiss on your forehead.

the smell of his car is what’s following his body, the new car scent making your head spin. the cologne he wears makes compliment to his aesthetic, edgy and mysterious— with notes of tobacco and ocean breeze. you catch a tiny bit of vanilla as he moves away from you. the mix of fragrances makes your mind fuzzy.

“never too tired to fuck you,” he continues demandingly, cupping your jaw to get a better view of your nervous look. his shoulders are tense and you notice the sweat beginning to form around his chest. “no, yuta. i don’t want to,”

“don’t fight me baby. you’re only making this worse for yourself,” his large hands press your back down onto the mattress, spreading your thighs to kiss around your heat. his teeth magically unbutton the body suit you struggled to clasp together. amazed, you moan out when you feel his teeth graze your cunt through your thin lace panties. he pushes your thighs apart as he kisses and licks you through the thin material.

letting go of your legs, he rips your panties off and licks a long stripe from the top to the bottom of your clit. he sucks at the sensitive area, whimpering and gasping at the taste of you.

your pussy clenches and convulses around his tongue while your thighs attempt to shut around his long haired head. his brown hair is damp with sweat, using his free hand to brush his hair back. he bites at your clit, making your legs twitch. “yuta, stop— please,” you whimper with watery eyes while your orgasm threatens to approach.

he only groans in response, sucking harder and flicking his tongue faster up and down your entire cunt. your orgasm approaches; you release all over the area where a beard would sit.

his stronger hands make impact with your pussy, your body jolting in response. “stop fucking moving. i’m gonna use you how i see fit, am i clear, y/n?”

“but i-“

“but i don’t care. don’t make me tie you down.”

his dark eyes lock into yours, making your heart jump in fear and excitement for what’s about to come. your legs force themselves open while yuta strokes himself slightly and lines his cock up with your soaked, sore cunt. in one thrust, he’s all the way in, giving yourself no time to adjust. he places his hand on your mouth to block out all sound from you. “yeah, keep that fuckin’ mouth shut. only thing you’re good for is this pussy.”

he lands another sharp slap on your cunt, making you cry out. your back arches upward and you could’ve swore you just saw your brain from how hard your eyes rolled back. “gonna toss out your birth control and fill you up every. fucking. day.” with every word, he pulls out completely, then thrusts harder back into you. your body shivers and your toes curl at the contact. with your back arched up, he takes the opportunity to remove his hand from your mouth and undo your entire set, stripping you completely naked.

after he’s satisfied with the scene before him, he slaps your right tit, then your left, then the right. the muscle turns red and you wince out in pain. he leans down to suck and lick at the area, earning a gasp from you.

“don’t cum in me, please!” you beg. you absolutely need him to breed you— it’s a staple in your’s and yuta’s sex life. it wasn’t sex if he didn’t full you up by the end of it.

“shut the fuck up. the last time i checked, sluts like you don’t care about getting pregnant, hm? they just sleep around and wait for someone to empty their cum into their loose pussies, yeah? that what you are?”

“n-no.” your eyebrows furrow in anger at the words he throws at you. the expression on your face doesn’t match the expression your pussy displays. you’re throbbing and swallowing him in, unknowingly cumming around him for the -nteenth time.

“yeah, you are. say it with me.” his tone softens as he talks you through the most vulgar words, waiting for you to say the words.

“i’ll call someone if you don’t let me go.”

“who are you gonna call, darling? the cops? i’ll make them watch.” he slaps the left side of your face, leaving a red handprint on your glossy skin.

“open your legs. don’t make me repeat myself,” you force your shaky legs open while yuta continues his assault on your sore pussy. the lewd moans he lets out makes your head fuzzy. “so fucking tight. even after i fucked you for hours,”

his thrusts slow, then they continue at a rough and fast pace. his fingers are hooked into the right side of your mouth like a dental clamp. your teeth are covered in your own arousal.

he repositions the both of you to where you’re both facing the camera. he cups your jaw, making you watch him fuck you through the camera. you connected your phone to the tv, so you’re both seen on the screen.

“say hi to your fans, bitch. we’re on live.”

somehow, yuta managed to switch to a livestream, the comments being flooded with a sweaty face emoji and thirsty comments. he pounds into you while you’re both whining and whimpering, holding your hair back to push you deeper onto his length.

“n-no, yuta, let me go!”

you’re cut off by a sharp slap on your ass. “one more chance. say hi.”

“h- fuck, i can’t!”

you watch the views go up dramatically, while yuta smiles manically.

12.7M VIEWS

3.7M COMMENTS

1.27M GIFTS

cznniehoe: man im tryna get my coochie stretched too

johnnysuh: no sharing?

jaehyun: hot

marklee: dude this is so hot

taeil: bro what let me get some

taeyong: BOW BOW BOW BOW BOW THATS THAT BOOTY MEAT

the views only increase, making your heart clench at nervousness.

“say hi to jaehyun for me.”

“i can’t—“ another slap to your right ass cheek, already forming a bruise. he pulls you off of him, watching yours and his cum drip down his cock and your thighs. “h-hi jaehyun,”

jaehyun: hello pretty girl

“there you go. wasn’t so hard was it?” yuta leans over to grab the camera and angle it at your face. it’s at selfie level as you stare at your own arousal on your face and the mascara on your cheeks. your lips are puffy and red with strands of hair on your face.

you look like yuta’s bitch.

#kpop smut #kpop #jeonify smuts #jeon ify #jeonify #jeonify fics #yuta x y/n #yuta nct 127 #yuta x reader #yuta nakamoto #yunho x reader #nakamoto yuta #nct yuta #yuta smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct x reader

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sophieshyacinthgarden · 23 days

Text

Bad Things Can Be Good For You

Summary: A distraught Bucky goes into the Avengers kitchen after a string of nightmares only to be greeted by your company…

Warnings: Angst, Talk of Trauma, Unrequited Love-ish, Slight Smut, Mutual Pining, and Sad Bucky

Authors Note: This is My First Published Fanfic so Wish Me Luck and Please give a Read and Feedback <3

Bucky is shirtless and is in the kitchen because of a nightmare but he doesn't want to admit it. You had gotten up out of bed after you heard him screaming and couldn't sleep knowing that he was scared.

You are a new Avenger and everyone seems to like you expect Bucky. He tends to always give you rude looks. You decide to walk up to him in the kitchen in the middle of the night. “What do you want doll?” Bucky rudely asks, sitting atop a marble counter top.

“Nothing, I simply heard you screaming and was wondering if you were okay,” you reply grabbing a glass of water, attempting to defuse the tension. You leave it on the counter to turn to face him.

“It was just a dream nothing’s wrong,” Bucky mumbles while not even bothering to look at you. His tone is a little hostile so you know he doesn’t want to talk yet you keep pushing.

“You know I won’t judge right? You can tell me anything,” you grab his arm reassuringly and look at him with a look of pure concern.

Bucky flinches for a second as if he was afraid of you touching him but quickly plays it off,” I said it was nothing I know you won’t judge. I’m not that stupid.”You sense a little sarcasm and hostility as he says this. Deep down you know it’s not personal Bucky doesn’t like sharing his feelings or emotions with anyone.

He was trying to fight his internal demons alone and that was how he was going to do it. If he’d done it for over seventy years he wasn’t going to stop now.

“You don’t have to be afraid… trust me just this once,” you say hoping he would listen.

Bucky stays silent for a second you could tell he wasn’t sure about whether to trust you or not despite your constant attempts, but then he spoke. “You said you wouldn’t judge right?

“Of course, I would never. I swear,” you tell him and when you swear to something you mean it.

“Fine…” He says finally agreeing to tell you everything and takes a deep breath; and then he starts talking,” I just had one of THOSE dreams…”

Your immediate response was something like “like a wet dream” but yo decided not to say it due to the current circumstances. So instead you opted for the safe option,”Oh, what do you mean?”

“The one where I remember the past… where I remember the Winter Soldier.” Bucky says his voice in a little hushed whisper where a wave of sadness takes over his face as he talks.

You looked at him compassionately,”You’re past is behind you, you’re not that person anymore.”

“I know…I know. That’s what everyone says, that’s what Steve says, but I don’t know if it’s true,”Bucky replies with a sigh. He’s usually a confident person but right now you can tell he was starting to tear up.

The nightmares of those times always hurt more. Bucky never wanted to cry that was not who he was now, he was strong not weak. What was once a rough exterior was now littered with cracks and chips like an antique vase. The past haunted Bucky everyday, as though it was a ghost of his past self.

You wipes away his tears and grab his face lovingly,”You are everything to me and I know I don’t show it but it’s true.” And it really is from the moment you met Bucky you were enamored by his rough persona yet loving interior. And yes it pained you so that he would never look at you the safe but instead he looked at you with disgust.

Bucky stays silent for a second still trying to fight the waterworks, you can still see a few tears rolling down his face. The words were a little unexpected he didn't know what to say but he knew he liked it but again he didn't want to say that. Bucky tried to move your hands away from him.

“You don't mean that...." he said in a low voice, his tone is hostile once again just like before.

“Of course I do,” you say with uttermost seriousness.

“You’re just saying that,” he says he’s trying to play it off but it’s not working at all, this is probably the most he’s shared about his past with anyone but Steve. Yet there was still a lot he didn’t want to admit.

“I’m no good… You shouldn’t like me. It will only bring you down,” Bucky says but it is not his normal sarcastic and hostile tone. It’s in a low his, almost disappointed tone.

You cross your arms over your chest,”Well maybe I like what’s not good for me.”

You see a small smirk form on Bucky’s mouth as you say that, Bucky’s usual personality is back but now you can tell he’s in a better mood. He was actually somewhat happy now, though he had no idea why. “You like bad boys huh?” he asks in a teasing voice. It’s not the tone you normally hear from him yet you can’t help but find it undeniably attractive.

“Maybe,” you smile coyly,” I think they balance me out.”

“So you think of me as a bad boy..” he says in a low chuckle. His tone has definitely lightened. Bucky usually never showed much emotion before now but for some reason he can’t resist it with you.

You move closer to him,”Possibly… and it well really riles me up if you know what I mean.”

A real grin finally forms on Bucky’s face as he chuckles again, he was a bit surprised that you liked his “bad side.” “So you really like my bad side then.”

“I’d say so,” you reply.

“You’d only say so?” Bucky teased yet he said it in his sarcastic voice again,”Is that all I am to you, just a bad boy?”

You shake your head,”No you’re a beautiful, tortured human being.”

Bucky stayed silent for a second he was once again not expecting you to say that. No one in his life had ever said anything like that to him before. He felt his face start to get warm. He was trying to hide his facial expressions by acting like he was nonchalant. “Oh yeah? Is that so?” He says as he tried to hide his blush.

“Yes it is,” you say.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to act he was a bit flustered and well he didn’t want to admit it. He was never used to receiving any kind of kindness. “Why are you saying these things to me? No one else ever tells me this.” he asks looking at the floor avoiding your eyes.

“Because I love you,” you tell him, throwing all caution to the wind.

Bucky stays silent for a minute his jaw dropped…he thought he heard that but he wanted you to say it again so that he can make sure he’s not hearing things wrong. “You..You love me?”

“I love you,” you say once again.

Bucky’s jaw is still dropped he didn’t think he was actually hearing this. What you were saying was just too good to be true. Again Bucky wanted to know if he heard you correctly so he decided to ask the question again. “You LOVE me?” Bucky says it’s still really hard for him to believe.

You laugh,”Yes, but do you love me?”

Bucky stayed silent for a bit not sure if he wanted to say the true answer out loud it was still crazy to him. What if he actually did say yes, What if you were just messing with him? Bucky couldn’t take that chance. “Maybe?” he mumbles his tone changing drastically.

You looked at the floor defeated, and upset. “No..!” Bucky says immediately as he notices that his sarcastic tone made you sad,”I mean..yes of course yes I do.” He says it really fast and then turns away from you. Bucky couldn’t care have you see how red his face is.

You grab his arm quickly and kiss him passionately turning him to face you. Bucky’s breath hitches in his throat as you grab him and kiss him, he was caught completely off guard he thought you were just going to have a conversation but now he was being kissed by the girl he’s secretly been pining over since she was recruited. Not that he was complaining, he wanted to continue. Although he didn’t want to show it so he stayed still.

“Come on Sargent, you have to admit that you feel something right now,” you groan into his ear. You feel him beginning to push into your thigh, slightly moaning at the use of his official title.

“Shut up.” Bucky mumbles he was starting to blush again. The urge to kiss you back was very strong right, so he decided to act on it.

Feeling confident you whisper,”Make me.”

Bucky stayed silent for a moment then he let out a smirk. You saw the usual sarcastic and hostile tone return to his face. “You really want me to?” he says while holding your hands tightly, he was definitely going to make you shut up.

“Yes, I’ve never seen wanted anything more in my life. Make me not able to walk,”you reply.

“Oh is that really what you want,” he says his tone is now very flirty,”I may even do more then that,” Bucky says as his grin gets wider.

“Do your worst,” you reply.

Bucky smiles as he moves in a little closer, his face is only inches away from yours now. His gaze meets yours one hand releases your other hand and goes around your back holding you tightly to him. The hand that isn’t holding you is moving up slowly from your waist up to your neck.

As you make out, you tug his hair slightly. A small shiver goes down his spine when you pull his hair and he moves closer to you. Bucky couldn’t explain it but he liked it.

You begin to kiss down his neck leaving small marks,”What’s wrong solider? Cat got your tongue?”

Bucky was trying his best not to show any of his emotions right now but it was difficult he was feeling things he’s never felt before. His breathing got a little heavier as you began to kiss his neck and leave small marks. You can tell his heart was beating fast as he was starting to get hot around his chest.

“You know what I can get a glass of milk later,” a voice says,”Y’all can continue to do whatever this is.”

You both detach from each other and turn around to find a shocked and slightly traumatized Sam Wilson. “It’s not what you think it is,” you say desperately.

“Ummm… what she said,” Bucky quickly replies becoming well aware to the fact that he’s not wearing a shirt and has a string hickeys down his neck.

“Yeah sure. But maybe next time preferably you don’t do this in our shared kitchen space? Since this is where people eat? Eat food? Like a family?” Sam tells you guys,”Thank you. Have a good rest of your night.” He turns and leaves as soon as he had appeared. Without his glass of milk in hand fully prepared to tell everyone in the tower tomorrow; well maybe except Peter since he was a child and an annoying little shit according to Sam.

You begin to regain your composure and point to the hall awkwardly,”So, I’m going to go now.”

Before you can leave Bucky grave your arm and whispers in your ear,”We can continue this tomorrow Angel.” He gives you one last wink and you retreat to your bedroom.

Wow. Bucky Barnes was going to be the death of you.

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embossross · 9 months

Text

From His Mind to Hers

chapter 12 >> Chapter 13 >> masterlist

✣ Pairing: Hanma x AFAB fem!Reader

✣ Warning: 18+, minors DNI; unhealthy relationships & dark content

✣ Chapter CW: DUBCON (oral gun play, ptv sex, rough sex), Assault (slapping, gun in mouth), revenge porn, descriptions of derealization/mental break, APPROACH WITH CAUTION

✣ Story CWs: patient/doctor relationships; smut (oral, ptv, pta, etc.), degradation, stalking, torture (not of y/n), murder, dubcon & abuse in c13, discussions of trauma and abuse, drug use, and more

✣ Synopsis: Forced into therapy, Hanma expects to waste his time and yours, but you’re not about to let the chance of a high-profile and higher paying patient slip through your grasp. The fact that you’re both attracted to each other doesn’t hurt either.

✣ Word Count: 6.5k+

Slipping into your bedroom, a haze of unreality deepens the shadows cast by what little furniture you own.

During the half hour walk here from Roppongi, Hanma’s dress shoes ripped holes in his heels, which he hardly noticed as his imagination fixated on what he would do once he arrived here, repeating the details again and again until they crystalized in his mind. The scene became real to him, closer to the fixed certainty of memory. The way you would wake to the death rattle of Amani Takashi as he choked on his own blood. In the absolute darkness, you wouldn’t recognize the reaper hovering above you, not until his hands, familiar as only a lover’s could be, closed around your bare throat and squeezed. As he choked the life from your body, you would realize the immensity of your mistake in betraying him, and oh, the weight of his satisfaction would be nearly sensual as you gargled out your apologies, your aborted pleas that would have no power over him in the dark, where he can’t see your eyes. It would be all over when those once seductive eyes closed forever.

The scene in his imagination is so vivid that upon entering your room and finding the details differ, a sense of derealization dizzies him. It’s like returning home after an earthquake to find all the furniture shifted almost imperceptibly to the left. Or, like he’s entered one of those children’s puzzles, where you spot the differences between two nearly identical pictures, the eye tripping over itself.

He catalogues each difference precisely as if to anchor himself.

The curtains are wide-open, letting in a blue-toned light that illuminates the bed where you sleep, alone. Your oh-so-lucky boyfriend is nowhere in sight. Tucked in tight with the covers pulled up to your chin as if shielding your throat, you dream the dreams of the innocent, peaceful and nearly glowing in the slight light.

Where he expected predatory excitement or at least the faint hum of purpose fulfilled, Hanma feels nothing but an emptiness, a hole. A vortex writhes within him, the chaos of feelings and impressions no quieter than before, but it sucks away all surface thought and feeling, all warmth, so entirely that he doubts they’ll ever be returned to him again. Suddenly, he feels the chill of winter upon him, those long nights returned to swallow him whole. He realizes his artificial buzz is gone. He’s left tired and dopamine deprived.

He watches you sleep for several long minutes until he fears he’ll lose what little soul he has left to the frostbite. Only once he’s reconciled the differences between the supposed “reality” of the scene with what he pictured in his head does he approach you and the bed with slow steps.

You don’t stir when he peels the blankets back to expose your throat and chest. Your nipples harden beneath your tee-shirt, delectable even now after everything. The bed dips under his weight as he kneels above you, a knee on either side of your waist, but you don’t even murmur, perhaps used to Takashi coming home late.

Again, he’s struck by your sleeping face, how you sleep with lips gently parted, trusting, like a woman with no secrets to condemn her. Many nights he’s watched you sleep just like this. All of his emotions are clogged down, muted, so that he doesn’t know if his feelings for you have changed, but the old instincts – to shield you from harm, to protect your precious sleep, and keep you closeted away somewhere, undeniably his – remain unsullied.

Bottom lip plush and glistening, your mouth beckons to him, and he wants to gently push a finger between those lips, past the blunt teeth and into the heated crevice of your mouth, the heart of you. But, those days are over. He knows this with the same detached certainty he knows when to shift gears when driving or when a piece of meat is chewed enough to swallow. Instead of his finger, Hanma taps the entrance of your mouth with his gun, and then, slides it inside.

For a brief moment, your expression morphs into disgust as you taste metal, but then the sleep recedes from your eyes and panic erupts there. You flail inelegantly against the intrusion, and then, more purposefully, as you recognize who looms above you and what has housed itself inside your mouth.

Hanma subdues you quickly by kneeling on your arms and seating himself on your chest. As you try to question him, mouth widening, the gun pushes its way in deeper, and the words come out an indistinguishable garble. You try to speak regardless, slobbering around the gun as your eyes beseech him, asking for some reassurance or explanation that is not fast in coming. There is nothing in his heart, nothing in his eyes or soul to comfort you. Just the cold.

For a moment, neither of you tries to speak.

Then, as if on autopilot, Hanma recites the words he imagined saying a hundred times already.

“I’ve been thinking about what you call a therapist when there is no patient confidentiality. And then it came to me. You call her an overpriced whore, who doesn’t know when to stop running her mouth.”

It’s as if he’s not the one speaking these words, watching himself from a distance, like an actor’s been hired to act out the part. It’s a rerun. He knows how this ends. Yes, he’s seen this one before.

Except, he’s not supposed to see your eyes. They disturb him, the way they peer up at the him who’s not him, squinting in confusion and protest. They lie for you better than the dialogue written in the script. Tears well along your lash line, and, when you blink, the tips of your eyelashes come away wet.

“I spoke to your friend today, Haitani Ran. Ah, see, there goes the innocent act,” the actor-Hanma sneers, while the real Hanma observes the understanding dawn on your face. “I wonder how much he had to give you to tell all my secrets. I’m always curious just how little people value their lives. How about it? How much was your life worth? What’s the number?”

Whatever you try to say in response is lost around the barrel of his gun.

It too looks strange in your mouth. Plastic, instead of cool metal, like a toy. It feels heavy like always in his hand, the weight of a murder, but what he sees doesn’t match. His brain argues that such a measly hunk of plastic could never be the thing that dims your eyes, now brimming with unshed tears, for good.

The scene simply isn’t right. Something needs to be done.

Breaking free from the script, Hanma decides to let you defend yourself a bit. He battles the actor-Hanma back and pulls the gun away.

“I didn’t!” you cry out immediately, the words slurring in your haste. “Shuji, I swear. I didn’t tell him anything. He cornered me and made me an offer, but I never –”

The barrel of the gun emits a jarring clanging sound as it rams into your front teeth. He won’t listen to you lie to him. Within the maelstrom of impressions that have been too loud to make out, one feeling floats free, taking on a familiar shape: anger.

Hanma can’t fathom how much you could have cost him. Had Haitani used the intel you slipped him to move against Toman, buggering the HKJ deal, he would have lost his shot at Mikey. In the aftermath, Kisaki would have had him killed for his role in it. No second chances. You’d be whacked, too, of course, for knowing too much, for being a liability. And, all that easy intimacy that you had built together over the last many months would be snuffed out as some no-account Toman lackey pureed you, entering you again and again with their knife, until your corpse was so mangled only dental records could hope to identify you someday.

You risked too much, stole too much, and his anger tastes like acid, coating the inside of his mouth.

Around the foul taste, Hanma – or maybe it’s the actor again? – spits the words, “Do you know how many stupid fucking corpses tried what you did in the past? Tried to use their bodies to get close, get my secrets. And it never fucking worked. There’s only one punishment that fits the crime when someone betrays Toman, betrays me, and you knew that when you took this job.”

The hand tattooed with the kanji for punishment pushes the gun deeper, unbothered by the way your soft palette rises on instinct as if you have any hope of choking him out. He forces through the resistance until you swallow his gun all the way to the trigger guard and the tip of the barrel knocks decisively against the back of your throat. Memories of past times when he broke through that same resistance echo, and his cock twitches. If he pulled the trigger at this angle, it would blow a hole clean through your trachea, not a quick and easy death.

Manipulative tears spill down your cheeks as you try to work out a blubbering sob. He wonders if you would have cried for him too had feeding Haitani secrets led him to the noose.

There’s no silencer to dampen the gunshot. It resounds in his ears, throbbing like a declaration.

Hanma doesn’t see the damage until sickly red blood floods your white pillowcases, forever staining them, and then mixing with your hair. You gurgle helplessly as you try to breathe around a compromised trachea, hands flying to your throat like you might massage it back to usefulness.

Condemning eyes glare at him. They’re like an ocean of blood, the waters slowly rising, until the whites of your eyes are gone and nothing but bloodred accusation stares back at him.

He blinks and the blood is gone.

The safety is still engaged. Your eyes are filled with translucent tears, hands still caged by his knees.

He shakes his head a few times. The force knocks his glasses around.

Of course, he didn’t shoot you through the neck. Earlier he strangled you with his own hands. No guns involved. When you died, it was like falling asleep, peaceful and lovely as he cradled your slowing pulse between his palms.

In your final moments, Hanma knows you didn’t spare a thought for Takashi, gut like a pig beside you.

Yes, you’re dead already.

He strangled you to death hours ago. Or minutes ago. Or.

He…or actor-Hanma…or.

No.

Hanma looks to the right where Takashi’s body should be and sees the empty space, the undisturbed blankets and half remembers. That’s right, Takashi wasn’t here when he arrived.

He hasn’t killed you yet. You’re still alive.

Unsure if up is down or down is up, Hanma giggles. In this twisted dreamscape, he thinks he could do anything, fuck the consequences. He can always change the outcome in the post-edit. He’s the director, actor, and audience.

Surreal as this scene may seem, the knowledge of his control over it fills him with an acute sense of power, enough to continue, unfettered by worries about what is or isn’t real.

“Lucky your boytoy isn’t here, right now. Think I’d have killed him first, so I could take the edge off. I want to take my time with you.”

He remembers – No! No pictures – how you would react to Takashi’s unceremonious demise. The corpse would serve as a dire warning, but you wouldn’t waste your tears on him. No, Takashi means nothing to you. Just a body even in life.

Except, Takashi too is still alive.

Every time Hanma blinks, he sees something else, like he’s peering into one of those optical illusion pictures, where if you cross your eyes, a hidden message appears and disappears. He is seeing doubles, triples, but he can’t make out what’s the hidden message underneath and what’s real anymore. He swallows and swears he tastes blood.

“Where is Takashi anyway?” Hanma says, hoping your answer – or lack of answer if you are really, truly dead – will anchor him.

At your gurgle, Hanma remembers the gun and pulls it out.

“Shuji, I swear, I never –”

He slaps you. Barely a love tap by the situation’s standards, but his palm connects with a crack, and your head snaps to the side, burying into the pillows, where you stay, chastened and too scared to try to speak lest he do it again. Breathing heavily, Hanma rewedges the gun between your lips. He’s sweating. Bullets of sweat plummet from his brow to plop on your neck, where the bones are so fragile they peek through the skin.

The tears behind your eyes dry up. The fear is gone in an instant. Hanma lowers his face until you’re nose-to-nose, staring directly into your eyes, looking for the fight, the will to live, but there is nothing. Only resignation.

Is it so hard for you to play your part? After all, actor-Hanma is doing his best to stick to the script even as these changes keep tripping him up.

You’re supposed to fight and plead for your miserable life, not throw it away for some cheap payday or perish without complaint in your bed. Where is the will, the wanting, that he nurtured inside you these last several months? Where is the woman he…

He hates seeing you like this. Hates it more than Haitani’s smug, smiling face, more than Kisaki barking orders at him like he’s nothing but a leashed dog, more than a listless weekend sunrise when the sleeping city threatens to drown him in boredom.

He loathes seeing you like this enough to spare you.

“This could only ever end in one way,” Hanma says, releasing the safety and cocking the gun. He aims the gun higher, so that when he shoots, the bullet will make a home in your brain, a cleaner, faster death. There is mercy in freeing you from this indignity as quickly as possible.

From the small space where your lips stretch obscenely, your tongue darts forward and laves the underside of the slide. The sight of it, incongruously pink on stainless steel, draws him up short. He watches as if hypnotized as you lap at the length of the gun not disappeared in your mouth with long, wet strokes. Craning your neck forward, you can just stretch your tongue to the trigger guard. Where his finger rests on the trigger, he can feel your breath, that wet heat that envelops him so completely.

His pulse ricochets, three beats a second drumming in his cock. Hanma doesn’t want to shoot you with a hard cock. Even by his standards, the idea is too perverse. He tries to will it down, but his blood rushes south like a dam breaking, and he is hard and aching before he can stop it.

Maybe it shows a lack of imagination on his part, but he’s never rammed his gun down a hot throat before. Like so many things in his life, this belongs to you and you alone.

You don’t break eye contact as you push your head forward until your throat restricts around the gun again. Delicious choking noises follow.

It’s faint, but as you suck off his gun, Hanma swears he sees a glimmer of desire warm your dead eyes. The life there, the personality, suits you better, and he lets out a long breath as if finally taking off a pair of shoes two sizes too small.

He still wants to hurt you. He wants to hurt you and, by proxy, the entire world. But, painfully hard as he is, he can’t imagine never feeling the heat of your mouth again, never enjoying the best pussy of his life again. A body like yours was made for him to enjoy. There will be time to make you suffer later.

Because once he pulls the trigger, you’ll go cold. The little life in your eyes will leech away by degrees. Your tongue will swell, stiff and useless in your slack maw.

It’s not fair that you would steal even this from him.

He won’t let you.

Hanma takes control. Not bothering to reengage the safety, he fucks in deeper, positively battering the back of your throat, so you spasm with each collision. It is brutal, harsher than any pounding he’s ever delivered with his cock, and tears and drool alike spill down your cheeks to coat his wrist. Intoxicating as the visual is, it’s the glugging noises that tumble helplessly from your throat that really spur him on. He rides high on the line between his pleasure and your pain, until the ache of his trapped cock spikes into a hurt that demands immediate relief.

A long, thick strand of spit connects your mouth to his gun when he pulls back to strip. You gasp and cough as if you just survived a waterboarding, debauched and pathetic as the drool settles on your chin. By the time he throws his jacket and shirt to the side and pulls his cock out of his fly, you have only just caught your breath.

The detached, dead-eyed gaze returns.

“Do whatever you have to do to get this out of your system, Shuji. Use me to get it out,” you whisper huskily, throat too sore to try anything louder, but he hears you as clearly as if you’d shouted.

He could do anything he wants to you now. The invitation is unnecessary. But it’s there between you now regardless. Through your words, he grants himself the permission to possess your cunt one last time, too selfish to deny himself the pleasure.

Things move quickly after that.

Hanma flips you onto your belly, ripping your sleep shorts and panties down the swell of your thighs, so they keep your legs pinned together. In this position, your ass and puffy pussy are perfect. Everything presses together as if to signal just how tight you feel on the inside. He can’t resist spanking your ass, harder than he’s ever hit you before, so that you shriek in pain and the flesh rebounds in his hand. It is a good reminder for you both – when the rush of lust threatens to envelop you and wash away all recollection of your betrayal – and so, he does it again on the other side for good measure.

Slipping one finger inside your cunt, he groans to find you soaked. It is a flood between your thighs, the kind of wet he usually only achieves after hours of edging you with his tongue.

He can’t wait.

Despite the wetness, you aren’t prepped enough for the stretch of his length in this position, so you emit pained whines as he forces his cock inside you. Every centimeter he pushes deeper is a struggle as your body fights against him, but eventually, your cunt yields to the pressure, and he sinks all the way to the balls, the tip battering your cervix cruelly in the process. And isn’t the cruelty half the point? He fucks you brutally, using his arms to leverage as much force as possible into each thrust, making sure to grind in as deep as your body can accept him.

There is a blissful annihilation in this, the mechanical thrusting of hips, the heat of your cunt hugging him, like a fire that burns away his every brain cell. He forgets about you altogether, uses your body like a cheap cocksleeve for his frustrations. One forceful thrust after another, and his brain empties and his balls unload. He moans as he fills you up.

The usual sensitivity follows; but to his surprise, his cock doesn’t go limp, remaining half hard. Like an agoraphobe refusing to go outside, clinging to the walls as his doctors try to force him out the door, his cock doesn’t want to leave this paradise.

Euphoria from his orgasm softens everything else around him, dulling the sound of his breathing, muting colors and smudging the lines of his vision. Hanma peers down on where your face is buried in the pillows as if you’ve been crying, and he feels sorry for you.

It’s his fault in a way, isn’t it? He should have taken better care of you. If he’d insisted on paying your bills sooner, you wouldn’t have been so easily tempted by Haitani’s offer.

And, if he’s honest, isn’t this part of what he loves so much about you? The way you continuously surprise him, never letting life grow dull?

The many days and nights that make up your torrid affair return to him. He remembers how sometimes, when you think he isn’t paying attention, you look at him with a softness that borders on reverence. On that night at the beach, when he got you high and took you dancing, you couldn’t have faked that openness, couldn’t have falsified the sincerity when you called him “Daddy” for the first time. Every moment was real for you.

There is no way you would have knowingly risked hurting him. Haitani must have manipulated you, convinced you that it was a win/win situation for all involved. You didn’t want to destroy him. You’re a brilliant woman, but sometimes, the stupid, greedy girl you buried and denied for so long wins out, that’s all. What you need is someone to teach you, to take care of that little girl with a firm hand.

Everything is his fault really.

Hanma’s thoughts eventually turn to marveling at how small you are in comparison to him. He could positively shroud you with his body if he chose. The space you take up in his life is larger than your body, larger than the shadow you cast when the sun is at its highest.

Hanma rolls to the side, bringing you with him, so you nestle into the give of his body. From where your calves rest against his thighs, up to where your cunt still spreads for his cock, and further up to where your head shelters in the crook of his neck, there is not a shred of space between you. Body-to-body, there is no space remaining for anger or betrayal either.

The heat of your body is a brand against him. He runs his fingers tenderly down the slope of your hip, fascinated by the way you can shiver as if from a chill. When he cradles your breasts, your nipples are tight stones against his palms. It should be impossible for you to feel the cold when your cunt burns him from the inside. The ache of winter nights spent dreaming of relief and sunshine feels like a distant memory. Inside you, with you, he doesn’t believe he’ll ever feel cold again.

The flesh between your thighs is slick when he spreads the lips of your hungry pussy. His fingers slip through the leak, almost unable to find your clit in the mess. It is the first time he’s not made you cum during a round of sex, and so he carefully manipulates your body until he hears your first whimper of pleasure.

Not immune to the sounds you make when your hungry pussy is still clenched around him, Hanma hardens once more inside you. The gentle hug of your cunt coils and tightens until it is a vice that grips him, and he can no longer resist. He wraps both his arms around your chest, crushing your breasts against his forearms, and just rocks against you. Eyes closed, he doesn’t think about anything but how wonderful you feel around him, how the only feeling better in the world is that same cunt squeezing rhythmically as you cum. It won’t be long now either. Between his fingers, your clit grows more engorged, your whimpers more frequent.

Patiently, he coaxes the orgasm out of you, but when you finally cum with a small cry, it is you who leads him right over the edge, so that he dumps a second load into your tired body.

They call it post-nut clarity for a reason, Hanma realizes because in the aftermath, everything once obscured appears so clear, like he had been trying to look at a painting through a dirty glass that’s since been cleaned.

Hanma is not willing to part with this for anything. What you did or might do in the future, your motives and feelings, they’re all irrelevant. Since he started fucking you, he hardly ever wakes up wishing a meteor would strike his building, just for a little novelty. He no longer smiles at the thought of a sinkhole opening up beneath his feet or an overdose slowing his heart to a halt, the kind of ignoble deaths he rejects on principle but would sometimes glitter seductively during life’s most boring moments. Knowing your set of pretty holes are waiting for him gives him a reason to get out of bed every day. And he is not going to let you take that from him over some irrelevant bullshit.

He will set you up in an apartment he owns, shower you in gifts and luxuries to ensure you’re a well-kept woman, happy and eager for his nightly visits. Nothing needs to change.

A frown darkens his face, and he inadvertently tightens his arms around your chest, hard enough to sting, when he realizes there’s still one remaining threat to his plan. Haitani knows you betrayed Toman and has already snitched on you once. If Haitani decides to run his mouth to the others, to Kisaki, you are dead regardless of what Hanma wants.

With his date with Mikey looming around the corner and promising to make the whole matter superfluous, Hanma considers leaving it to chance, but then decides against it. He should probably deal with Haitani. One last hunt before he shuffles off his mortal coil. He doesn’t pretend he won’t enjoy it.

You recover from your orgasm slowly. The pulse at your neck is skittish. Hanma can smell the sweat at the back of your neck. Your breathing takes minutes to return to something remotely steady. He enjoys holding you through these changes, wonders if you’ll fall asleep in his arms.

Kissing your back, Hanma tells you that he forgives you. Sincerity drips from his voice. He means it. It’s a blanket pardon for everything you have done until now. There are only so many days you have left to spend together.

You don’t answer immediately, but when you do, it’s to ask to use the bathroom in a small voice. Rolling aside, Hanma watches you free your body from his clutches and limp from the room, his cum leaking down your thigh. A long time passes. He hears the shower turn on and dozes off, still half-dressed atop your sheets.

Hyper-sensitive to danger, he blinks awake the moment you reenter the bedroom. Water clings to your hair, which dries freely, before puddling in your wake. A lemon-yellow towel wraps tightly around your form, and he wants to rip it off you, so he can watch your naked body strut about as you rifle through your dresser. If he had to put a name to it, he’d call his current feelings “proprietary.” This was a final test, and he controlled himself, and now, as his reward, he gets you. He’s a fair bit impressed with himself.

“I’m going to meet with my realtor tomorrow to tell him to move forward on the Ueno apartment. I’ll transfer it directly to your name, so you don’t need to worry about rent or what happens when I die. I’m free the day after next if you want to go shopping together, too. I don’t give a fuck how you want to decorate, but since I’ll be spending a lot of time there, I want to make sure the furniture’s comfortable at least. I swear half the chairs in this country are too short for me,” Hanma drones, pausing, annoyed, when you pull a massive sweatshirt, large enough to belong to a man, over your body. “You just need to dump that Takashi twat already. He’s not welcome in my apartment.”

You don’t respond. In fact, you haven’t said a word in the better part of an hour.

Looking more carefully – no longer with the distorting eye of a proud lover – he notices a shake to your hands as you tug on a pair of sweatpants. You stand nearly pressed to the door, like you might need to flee at any moment. You’re terrified.

Hanma sighs, regretting how harshly he dealt with you, though you’d left him no choice. Despite a few front row demonstrations of his business, you are mostly unexposed to the violence that characterizes his life, always discussing it in the abstract. If you were more yourself, he’s sure you’d tell him that it’s psychologically healthy to have a physiological response to eating a gun. All those months ago when you played Russian Roulette, your reaction was a lot more fun, but he supposes, special though you are, you are still a civilian, and this kind of response is to be expected.

Still, he doesn’t prefer you hurt or scared. It makes his brain itch.

The bed creaks when he stands. Approaching with slow steps, Hanma notices you literally shrink away from him, leaning more of your weight against the door.

Like soothing a spooked horse, Hanma stretches out an upturned hand, but you slap it away. Heat blazes behind your eyes. No different than a cowering animal, you lash out.

“Don’t touch me!”

This time, Hanma expels a very different sigh, a sigh of irritation at your overreaction. Given the nature of your betrayal, he could have done far worse and been justified. Comforting you is tedious, but he grits his teeth and forces himself to try.

“I forgive you, okay, Doc. You don’t need to worry. I’m not going to shoot you or anything else. I forgive you. You’re still my girl.”

“Oh, fuck you! I’m not your fucking girl!” you seethe, gnashing your teeth at him, like you might truly bite him if he comes closer.

Hanma patiently tries again, “I forgive you –”

“You’re actually insane to think I’m leaving Takashi – my loving, stable boyfriend – to play house with you in some shitty apartment. I’ve heard all your little hints about leaving him, and guess what? I haven’t! I didn’t leave him before you showed up in the middle of the night spewing baseless accusations and stuck a gun in my mouth. Now? You clearly need to find a new therapist because you’ve grown delusional to think I’d choose you over Takashi!”

Cold tendrils creep down his spine. He actually tries counting backwards from one hundred, like that useless technique first suggested to him in elementary school has ever helped him control his temper before.

As he fights down the beginnings of a rage to rival his anger when he first arrived tonight, you keep going in a voice like reinforced steel, “I thought about it in the shower, and the more I thought, the less I understood what you even bring to the table. Takashi is one hundred times the man you will ever be. Do you hear me? All you have going for you is good dick, and frankly, I can live without it. I’m firing you as a patient, effective immediately. I’m obviously not suited to help you as I’m just a…what did you call it? Overpriced whore? And for the record, I’m not interested in being your whore either, so…”

Your lips continue to move as you spit invectives at him, but Hanma tunes out the words. He can’t ignore escape your tone, how the heat slowly dampens, and you grow colder, the unfeeling mask you often wore when you first met returning. The heartless, robotic delivery is somehow more venomous, and the weight of your disdain washes over him like the sea, dragging him down, down, down into its bottomless depths.

With what little presence of mind he’s regained, Hanma knows that if he fights with you now, it will undo everything he accomplished. He’ll hurt you if he stays. And even if his knuckles strain against his closed fists with the desire to do just that, another stronger part of himself does not want to hurt you at all.

He – and you by virtue of being his therapist – deserve a goddamn medal because instead of lashing out at you, Hanma decides to leave.

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” Hanma grits out. “It’s been a long day for us both. Get some sleep, and I’ll call you in the morning with what the realtor says.”

His feet drag like they’re stuck to the carpet, but step-by-step, he manages to walk towards the door, where you plaster yourself backwards to avoid the merest brush of his body against yours. Alone in the hallway, the pictures of you and Takashi stare down at him, smiling and false.

It is quiet as the grave on your little residential street. The sky is a deep grey, the faintest hint of light illuminating the world as the sun just begins to peek through the clouds. Sunrise is within the hour.

Only now, free from the oppressive shadows of your apartment, does Hanma acknowledge the miracle that you have somehow survived this night.

Hanma is too tired to hope for anything more. With his thoughts in a frenzy, he walks home. He is not ready for tomorrow, not yet.

Growing up, Hanma heard people joke that behind every real estate broker in this city, there hid three yakuza: one to hand out bribes, a second to threaten tenants, and a third to lap up the profits. Another version of the joke boasted that if the government ever nationalized real estate, the yakuza would dry up within the month.

In 2018, the yakuza have diversified their business ventures. The Kokonois of the world have dragged them into the twenty-first century, operating more like billion-dollar conglomerates than classic criminal syndicates. It’s the age of shell companies and tax shelters, stock shorts and corporate espionage. Still, Hanma holds a soft spot for the classics, and there is no shortage of realtors comfortably living in Toman’s pocket.

So, with Toman’s resources, Hanma fast-tracks the procurement of his new apartment, signing on the dotted line before lunch.

He calls it an apartment, but your new home is really only four units housed within a two-story building, squat and bookended by two larger apartment towers on either side. The realtor reassures him that the building meets both of Hanma’s requirements: it’s less than a fifteen-minute walk to your office and the quiet street is several blocks from any major thoroughfare, meaning little foot traffic.

The only complication arrives when Hanma asks about buying out all four apartments. Since he plans to spend much of his time in your apartment, he is willing to considerably drain his personal savings for the luxury.

The realtor, a paunchy, balding man despite not yet reaching forty years of age, named Obara, informs him that two of the other apartments will be simple enough to obtain. He remembers placing both families within the last five years and is confident they’re the reasonable sort who will jump at a generous offer. The problem is Itoh-san in unit four. Widowed for the better part of three decades, she has stubbornly clung to this apartment and the memories it houses. She will not be easily moved.

Your apartment will be on the first floor, unit two, while the old woman’s is directly above. Obara assures Hanma that she rarely leaves the house these days except for a weekly trip to the market or one of her many doctors’ appointments, so she probably won’t even notice his coming and going. But, if Hanma prefers absolute privacy, Obara gently suggests Hanma might send a few men from Toman around the following evening for a “productive conversation.”

Ten years into his real estate career, Obara is well accustomed to working with yaks. He doesn’t so much as blink as he suggests Hanma chase this little old lady out.

There is no need to make a decision just yet. Hanma tells Obara to make offers to the other residents and move forward with the paperwork. He will sleep on Itoh’s fate.

As he dials your number, Hanma reflects that he’s been damned generous of late.

The phone rings six times before clicking to your voicemail. Your voice is cool and impersonal in the recording as it encourages him to leave a message. Hanma foregoes the suggestion and texts you instead.

Hours pass. He pushes his body to the brink at the gym, fighting opponent after opponent until he can no longer recognize where one bruise ends and the next begins. He scalds his skin to a glowing cherry color in the shower and then sweats his brains out in the sauna. He places a few bets on the horses.

Between each activity, he calls you and is met by your voicemail.

Eventually, he can’t keep up the pretense any longer, acknowledging the growing ire inside him.

He pounds back shot after shot of tequila at a dingy izakaya, where he’s one of only two customers and the bartender knows better than to ask questions. As Hanma drinks, he thinks about how fucking entitled you are. After everything he has done for you, sparing you the punishment anyone else would have suffered, you reject him. He tries to remember that you’ve pulled these disappearing acts before and always been easy to lure back with a few false promises, but whenever he remembers your trembling hands, he knows this time is different.

The way you waxed poetic about Takashi yesterday infuriates him. You’re shrinking back into the prison you erected around yourself and called safety before he met you. Only he knows how to provide for you, help you make a real life in this world, rather than wasting away behind unlocked doors, too afraid of your own shadow to try the handle, to want anything.

One last chance, he vows to himself. He’ll give you one last chance to respond and after that, he’ll show you the same consideration you have shown him. None.

He calls your number.

When the fourth ring goes unanswered, he doesn’t bother waiting for your voicemail. He closes out the call and flips straight to his photo gallery, scrolling to the “hidden” folder. There are dozens of photos and videos of you here. Covertly taken, they capture you taking his cock in nearly every position, cockdrunk and desperate for it. He pauses to enjoy one where you lie on your back, neck extended off the bed, while he pushes his cock into your throat, slow and steady, hypnotized by the gush of spit that strings down your chin.

Hanma selects all the videos in the gallery and adds them to a text message with a recipient he knows only by memory.

He hits send.

As the electrical signals race from his phone to his recipient’s, Hanma sighs. This time, it’s a sigh of satisfaction. He honestly feels a lot better.

#hanma shuji #hanma x reader #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #hanma smut #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers x reader

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violetrainbow412-blog · 8 months

Text

Cigarettes [S. R.]

Best friend!Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

Summary: Spencer comforts you after you learn some bad news about your relationship.

contents: hurt/comfort, talk about addictions, smoking, insomnia, cheating, mention of traumas (mainly from Spencer) no really romantic feelings. Thought at some point in season 4

Spencer rolled over in the hotel bed again, for perhaps the fifth time in less than half an hour, and knowing that lying down was useless, he got up to turn on the light. The trip to Los Angeles had been exhausting and by the nature of the case you had had to move all over the city during the day, so he was tired, but he just couldn't sleep.

There had been a lot going on in his life lately and ever since the trip to Vegas and meeting his father he had been feeling a little restless, despite the surprising turn things had ended up taking, and that included having a few bad dreams or not having them at all.

He took out the folders with information on the case and tried to go through them to find anything that would be useful, but after a couple of minutes he realized that he couldn't concentrate and this only ended up frustrating him. Suddenly he remembered that he had seen a small terrace when you were just getting settled and he thought that, with any luck, he could stay there for a while to get some fresh air and clear his mind. He just took the room keys and headed down the hall, passing a rather inebriated couple who were struggling to open the door between giggles. For some reason this amused him and he even thought about coming back to help them, but in the end he didn't.

When he felt the night breeze, he was grateful for having put on a cardigan and was so lost in thought of him that he didn't even realize there was already a person on the terrace until said presence turned to look at him.

“Oh, sorry, I…” he started to say, but his words trailed off when he realized who it was “Y/N?”

"Reid," you said, sounding a bit taken aback. The first thing Spencer noticed was the smoke surrounding you and suddenly his gaze fell to the lit cigarette in your hand.

He didn't want to say anything at first, so he just walked over to you and leaned against the railing.

“Six minutes”

"I know" you muttered defeated.

Spencer had once told you that for every cigarette you smoked, you were subtracting six minutes from your life, and when the situation demanded it, he would remind you. Even with this you took another puff, which worried the man watching you.

You two had a rather unique relationship, unlike the one you had with any other team member. When Tobias Hankel kidnapped him, despite the fact that you had known each other for relatively few years, you were the only one who dared to confront his apathetic and hostile attitude to ask him what the hell was happening with his life. Initially you thought it was just the aftermath of the trauma, but over the days you realized there was something else. You knew how to recognize an addict because you were one, even though the source of it was completely different.

When you suggested such a thing he was reluctant to talk to you, and of course you didn't blame him, until after a few weeks one night he knocked on the door of your hotel room to finally confess things to you. When he found out about your smoking problems in some sick way he was glad that you could understand him so well and at that moment he brought the two of you together inexplicably. You started attending AA meetings without anyone else knowing and after some effort you agreed to make a pact; you weren't going to smoke if he didn't inject Dilaudid. And to avoid this, every time you thought about doing it, you would turn to the other to make you see reason.

It was obvious that you had just broken that promise and you probably didn't expect him to find out, but your friend's insomnia problems had conspired terribly against you.

"Are you okay?" he whispered. You were a short distance away so instinctively your hand moved away so the smoke wouldn't bother the man, but your body sought the warmth of his on its own.

You didn't answer for a while and he thought that perhaps the case had affected you more and he wondered why you hadn't gone looking for him like you always did, even coming to believe that he had made some mistake that made you lose trust in him. During that dead time Spencer noticed how your eyes glazed over as you looked at the horizon, and then you finally spoke, but not before bringing the cigarette to your lips again.

“I think Paul is cheating on me”

How was Spencer supposed to respond to that? Paul had been your boyfriend for a year and, to be honest, he had always disliked him. He was a conceited idiot who in his opinion didn't deserve even the smallest bit of your affection, but since he was attractive and you seemed too enamored he never dared to say anything to you about it. More than once you had come to work with clear signs of having cried the night before and Spencer knew that as soon as he saw a mark of violence in you he would summon all the courage he had to face that man and file a complaint against him if necessary. And now that you were crying over him and smoking again because of him, Spencer felt her blood boil.

"Why do you think that?"

“He's been really weird lately” you exclaimed shakily “And it wasn't even his behavior, but… there was something about him. I mean, we're profilers, we can tell when something's not right, you know what I mean?” You still didn't look at him, but this didn't stop him from nodding. "It's been weeks, so I became suspicious and started paying more attention to the things he said, how I looked, his clothes, everything. Last night when he got into the shower he left his work phone unlocked and even though I knew he was avoiding his privacy I was too curious so I checked it and found too many calls to the same number. I wrote it and this morning I sent a message from my own phone pretending to be him from a new number and… well, you can imagine”

"Did she say something suspicious?"

“She asked me when we would see each other and she said that she missed me. So I called just to check and indeed a woman answered, so it is not difficult to reach a conclusion” at this point a few tears were already slipping down your cheeks, so to swallow them you sucked again on the tobacco; deeply and guiltily satisfying "I'm sorry I'm breaking our pact, but I really didn't know what else to do"

"It’s fine" he replied immediately "I mean, it's not fine that you're doing this, but... I think it's understandable."

"The worst thing is that it's not even a good cigarette" you sighed bitterly and then you finally turned your gaze to see him. He hated seeing you like this "What were you doing here anyway?"

“I couldn't sleep and I thought I'd get some air” he explained to you. Spencer didn't want to talk about himself that night, but he wanted to know in depth the nature of your state and make sure that you would be okay. "But you, what will you do?"

“Break up with him, that's a given. I honestly don't even want to ask for an explanation because I don't want to hear lies. The only thing that worries me is where I will sleep for the next few months when I take my things out of our apartment”

"Stay with me" the words came out without thinking and with such certainty, that they forced you to look at him immediately "I don't have much space, but I can sleep on the couch and you stay in the bed"

"I was thinking of asking Garcia" upon hearing this his cheeks turned red, because although you were good friends it was obvious that you would prefer to stay with a woman "But you are very sweet to offer it, Spence. I would love to sleep on your couch."

"In bed. I would take the couch” he clarified and for the first time that night, you smiled. It wasn't a smile that reached the corner of your eyes, but at least it was something.

Spencer wanted to reach out to take the cigarette from you, but he knew he had to at least give you the pleasure of that slip. While he looked at you out of the corner of his eye, he thought that you looked beautiful in profile and although he would never admit it, the smoke gave you a certain interesting touch that highlighted your qualities, as well as inevitably drawing attention to your lips, which were slightly dry at that moment.

"And you know what hurts me? That I keep wondering what I did wrong. Maybe it's that I spend too much time at work or I just… I don't know, maybe I wasn't good enough anymore."

“Don't say that,” he demanded, sounding almost annoyed. “Men cheat almost half as often as women, and their motives are usually sexually selfish. You have irregular hours at work, so what? A person who truly loved you wouldn't do that just because he can't see you as often. The problem is him because he's an idiot who doesn't know how to value you and honestly, I didn't expect less from him, because this just shows that he's a shitty person who feels like he can do that with women just because. So I don't want you to blame yourself for that, you are not the problem. And if you do then I'll rattle off every stat I know of that contradicts you. And I know a lot of them."

"Sure you do" you half laughed, at the accusing finger of your friend. He had spoken too fast and the curse words he said amused you, since it was not very common to hear the correct and kind Dr. Reid express himself like that.

The fire in your hand was dying out and with some regret you took what you knew was the last drag on your cigarette, enjoying it more than the rest, knowing that you might not do it again for a long time. He looked at you carefully and then picked up the end to deposit it in one of the containers that were around.

“I don't know what I can do for you. But if there's something that makes you feel better, you know you can ask for it, right?" he offered cautiously. Although he knew the facts, he had never had to comfort a friend in a situation of this nature, so he didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing.

"Another cigarette?" you asked hopefully, but his serious face told you that this wasn’t a possibility.

"Be honest with me, was that the first one or had you smoked during these days?"

“The first and will be the last. I swear" you replied, while with your finger you drew a cross over your heart. You knew that his insistence was only to keep you well and deep down you were very grateful to him "Do you know what else would make me feel better now?"

"What?"

"A hug" you confessed in a whisper.

A second later Spencer had already closed the distance between you to press you against his warm body and your arms slipped under his cardigan. You felt the soft fabric of his shirt caressing your cheek and that's when you started to cry. When he heard your first sob, he felt a tug in his chest and his head rested against yours, as if he was seeking to shelter you completely.

There was something in the man's hugs that made you feel safe and calm at the same time, as if they transmitted some kind of inexplicable peace to you. You knew that sometimes he wasn't a big fan of physical contact, however, he had never denied it to you. You continued to cry for a while and he didn't stop holding you for a second, both physically and emotionally.

"You should get some sleep" he whispered to you when he thought you were calmer, while he carefully rubbed the lower part of your back "Rest will help you feel better"

"I don't think I can do it"

"I'll stay with you," he offered. It was enough to speak in whispers so that you could hear him “If you want. I couldn't sleep before coming either."

"We're both screwed, huh, Reid?" you muttered ruefully and he chuckled.

"We are"

"But I'm still glad to have you," you said sincerely. You pulled away a little to see him and he let his hand go by itself to your cheek to wipe away all traces of tears with his thumb "You are a good friend"

The man's heart warmed at your words and he smiled tenderly as he gently stroked the side of your face.

"Things will be fine, I promise. You don't need that guy to be happy"

“Sometimes I wish I didn't love him, you know? I would like to be able to fall in love with someone good and kind, who is really worth it"

"You'll find them" he smiled genuinely "For now you'll have to settle for my company"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," you half laughed, your palms resting firmly on his waist, and then you were silent for a few seconds.

“Do you want to go back inside?" he suggested, seeing you yawn, and then you agreed. Crying had exhausted you and if he made good on his promise to stay in your room you'd probably drop out in a couple of minutes.

During the way you missed his warmth and as soon as you arrived you pulled him towards the bed to encourage him to sleep with you. It wasn't awkward or had an ulterior motive, it was just the two of you lying in the same bed.

"Reid?" you spoke in the dark

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for being here. I love you" you confessed. Spencer reached up to cover both of you with the sheet, then ventured in to place a hesitant kiss on your forehead.

"I love you too"

And with the feeling of those words firmly planted in your chest, you two finally fell asleep.

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