#gonna watch run with the wind now ❤️ love and light | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pedgito · 2 years

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Hiya! I hope you're well! Id love to request an eddie x femreader who are best friends with feelings with these three prompts please❤️ thankyou !

❛ do you mind if i sleep here tonight? ❜

❛ are you wearing my shirt? ❜

❛ don’t you know what you’re doing to me? ❜

author's note: for my 1k celebration. this got a little long and i'm sorry for that. i wanted to keep it shorter but my mind wouldn't let me. i hope you enjoy!

cw: mostly sfw but 18+ to be safe, there's nothing other than a small mention toward reader's breast (nothing descriptive). just your cheesy love confession during a rainstorm/power outage, also lots of eddie being his lovely himbo/unaware self.

word count: 3.4k

Hawkins rarely floods—it had its fair share of horrible midwestern weather, but it’s never been this bad. Eddie’s peering over your shoulder, your mind battling between forcing yourself to drive home through the immense downpour or convince Eddie into letting you take the couch until the storm calmed—though the end seemed nowhere in sight.

“Eddie—“ Your voice is distressing, worried, eyes glancing up toward him. The words are on the tip of your tongue, “Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?” But Eddie knows, he always knows.

“You’re not driving home,” Eddie says, not much room to budge against it, “don’t even suggest it.”

You nod dutifully. The last thing you needed was to get stranded on some winding road this late in the evening, knowing everyone else was probably tucked into bed.

Eddie reaches around to slip the door closed, flipping on the light to the living room area of the trailer, the lightbulb struggling to revive itself, flickering until it finally stills, the insistent buzzing like white noise to you now.

“We’re gonna have to start calling you Eddie The Chivalrous if you keep this up.” You joke, tugging at his arm playfully, scooting alongside him to sit on the couch. “Would it kill you to be an asshole every now and then?”

“That’s reserved exclusively for Henderson and his ragtag group of friends,” Eddie smacks the ceiling cover, the buzzing immediately dying out. “Someone’s gotta humble Dustin every now and then.”

“He means well.” You say fondly, remember how often Dustin offered to help others, regardless of what it meant for him. “You two bicker like brothers anyways.”

Eddie laughs knowingly, his relationship with Dustin having grown over the past several months—he really couldn’t imagine a life without that kid.

“So, what? Are you asking me to be dick to you more often?” Eddie teases, flopping down into the cushion opposite you, feet propped up on the cluttered coffee table. “Because I can, I’d just hate to be on the receiving end of that—“

Your eyes narrow, vicious but sweet. He’d seen it enough times during Hellfire to know what it meant and he always steered clear. It was either Mike or Gareth pissing you off with their irrational decision making, which always ended in them agreeing with you in the long run. Those two were not built for survival, their brooding and boyish thinking constantly beating out the more sensible parts of their brain.

“—see, that’s terrifying.” Eddie points out, hand motion in your direction.

“Someone’s gotta keep the hellions in check.” He knows your right, he can’t even argue that. “If not you, then me.”

“Hey,” Eddie’s hand shoots to his chest, “I do a great job, you’ve just got that effect that girls have.”

“That’s a little sexist, don’t you think?” You suggest wearily, watching Eddie’s face morph from confident to worried, smile lines disappearing in an instant.

“No, no—that’s not what I meant—“ Eddie clamors, fear turning into annoyance as he watches you curl around yourself in laughter, hand grabbing into his knee. “Oh, okay. I see what kind of night it’s going to be.”

“I’m kidding, Eddie.” He knows you’re being sincere, he does. But, he can’t help feeling the shot straight to his ego. In the years you’ve known Eddie, he’s more sensitive than he lets on. Though, maybe that was reserved for you.

You couldn’t remember a time where Eddie had said anything hurtful toward you, in any way—aside from the time he called you stupid for tripping over him in third grade (Eddie, who was in fifth grade, and towering over half the kids already), it was the first and last time he’s ever spoke like that, because the moment he spotted your Def Leppard shirt that you had so coraguesly worn to school that day, despite the constant snickering from other girls, he was enamored by you.

“I hate you.” It’s meant with no malice, his true feelings shown through the smile that stretches across his face.

Eddie struggled—a lot, dealing with the feelings he’s been harboring for years toward you. He’s dated and dated, even with your assistance, which felt horribly wrong, but nothing ever landed where he wanted. And Eddie had friends, he had plenty, but you were the only one that stuck. You knew the darkest parts of him, the happiest, the most embarrassing, Eddie didn’t have to force up whatever persona he felt like wearing around you—not to say that he wasn’t always unapologetically himself, but he did have some reservations.

“I hate you too.” You smile cheekily, pushing yourself from the couch. “Can I take a shower here? I hate going to sleep without showering—makes me feel gross.” Eddie nods jerkily, hand waving toward the direction of the tiny trailer bathroom.

“Yeah, I’ll uh, give you some privacy.” He says, rubbing the tip of his nose with the back of his hand. “Need a smoke, anyways.”

“Okay,” You eye him skeptically, confused by his sudden aversion to you, “well, don’t drown out there.”

The sigh you let out when Eddie closes the door is long and drawn out. He must be disgusted by you, obviously—why else would he bolt out of the door so fast? You didn’t even know where to begin, where your love for Eddie transformed from something that was familial to not being able to calm that twitch in your heart anytime he spoke your name or smiled at you. It felt like betrayal against what you two had built, your strong unbreakable friendship—yet despite that, it would crumble if either of you acted on something more. Wouldn’t it? It was a dying war you've fought with yourself for months, trying to hint at him in the most subtle ways, but too ashamed to say it out loud. You wanted to scream it in his face, making it as blatantly obvious as possible, but that didn't seem rational.

The shower is hot, scolding, the sting assisting in keeping your mind off your racing thoughts. You fumbled for Eddie’s shampoo—he still uses the coconut one you told him about in ninth grade, a small reminder that he’s always valued your opinions and took them into consideration—that and he really likes the smell of it.

You shower until the water runs cold, snatching the towel from its holder and wrapping it around your body. You dig through your bag, hoisting it up onto the bathroom sink. Okay—underwear, shorts, shirt—where the fuck was your shirt? You always packed a spare pair of clothes in your bag for school, depending on how late Hellfire ran and if you felt like changing into something more comfortable, but when have you ever forgotten a shirt? It was silly, trivial even. You could put on your shirt from earlier, but it was soaked on the floor—of course, those cheap fucking shower curtains.

You pause, trying to redirect your frustrations toward something else. Weigh the odds—go out there shirtless and risk Eddie having an aneurysm or borrow one of his shirts? As much as you would enjoy seeing Eddie’s usual stone-face, cynicalness broken by the sight of your bare breasts—you were also freezing now and didn't feel like making yourself suffer any longer.

Eddie won’t mind. He won’t, you know that. You peek through the sliding door, still no Eddie in sight. Luckily, he has some of the best pickings you’ve ever seen, thousands upon thousands of graphic shirts, similar to your own, but specific to Eddie’s personality.

You throw on a worn out Dio shirt, but Eddie would know that shirt anywhere—of course he would. You ignore that itching feeling, shoving the drawer to his dresser closed and inch your way toward the front door. He had to be done by now, unless he was in the mood to smoke out a whole pack. You reach for the handle, swinging the door open.

Eddie looked like a drenched, wet puppy—mouth downturned, hair sopping wet and dripping down his shoulders, the jeans rolled up around his ankles somehow more soaked than anywhere else, his bare feet covered in specks of mud and grass.

“I dropped my pack,” He frowns, “I tried running to my van to grab my spare and slipped.”

You cover your mouth, forcing yourself to hide the smile that crept up. This was not the time to poke fun, absolutely not. But, that’s squashed when Eddie can’t take himself seriously either, watching the way your eyes squint behind your covered expression. He snorts, shoving the wet hair out of his face.

He strips down at the door, sans his underwear, sparing with the last piece of dignity he had left. You force him to shower first, arguing with him that you could grab his clothes—“It really isn’t a big deal, Eddie. It’s not like I haven’t seen your underwear before.” Not that Eddie had any kept secrets hidden in there, aside from his small stash of top-grade weed that he selfishly had tucked away in the back of his top drawer, labeled ‘DO NOT TOUCH’. You didn’t smoke often anyways—so you never mentioned it or Eddie's horrible choice of hiding spots.

You pile his clothes into your open palm, reaching your arm inside the bathroom door to set them on the edge of the sink, the steam from the shower billowing out the door. There’s a distinct zap sound, like a transformer sparking up outside, before the entire trailer goes black, leaving you both standing in darkness.

“Fuck me,” Eddie groans, hands slapping against tile from behind the curtain, “this shit never ends.”

“Hey, it’s fine.” You assure him, glancing around his room. “Do you have candles or anything?”

Wayne, bless his heart, was more a worrier than he let on. He was also always prepared for any situation—more importantly, a power outage. “Yeah, under the sink.”

You hurry around the corner, digging under the sink for the necessary items—candles, matches, a very old and worn out flashlight. You flick the button a few times, wondering if it even works. It doesn’t. You toss it back under the sink, gathering the candles in your arm and placing them around the house; the living room, the hallway nook that stowed a lot of random knickknacks that Eddie and his uncle have collected over the years, and one on the windowsill in Eddie’s room. It wasn’t much help, but it was something.

“Sorry about this,” Eddie speaks from behind you, towel drying his hair as he makes his way toward you, “this place is a shithole.”

You turn slowly, amused at how wildly he’s rubbing the towel against his damp head, before tossing it onto the growing pile of dirty laundry in the corner of his room. “Not a shithole, Eddie. It never has been.”

Eddie huffs softly, collapsing on the end of his bed. He’s staring, watching thoughtfully, eyes dragging over you. It wasn’t odd behavior for him, Eddie often couldn’t be bothered to fill the silence and would rather stay quiet—and right now, you couldn’t be bothered either.

“Wait,” Eddie says, finger pointed at your chest lazily, his frame leaned back against his mattress, held up by his elbows that dug into the material, “are you wearing my shirt?”

“Oh,” You squeak out, glancing down at the shirt, “yeah, I forgot one and my shirt from earlier was soaked—I’m sorry, I should’ve asked.”

Eddie shakes his head, scooting aside to make room for you as you sit beside him, flicking his damp bangs away from his forehead, most of his hair already sufficiently dried. “I don’t mind.”

“Still,” you shrug, left knee brought to your chest as the other hangs off the edge of his bed, foot planted against his shag carpet, “probably should’ve asked.”

“Looks good on you,” He comments offhandedly and it really shouldn’t make the pit in your stomach clench the way it does, watching his eyes scan you again—those beautiful omniscient eyes doing nothing to snuff how painfully your heart tugged at the thought of him. “Keep it.”

You gasp softly, hand clutched over your heart, “Come on, this one is your favorite—you don’t mean that.” Eddie never shut up about his love for Dio, it was pretty adorable.

“I do.” He smiles softly, fingers running over the fabric of your sleeve.

Selfishly, he liked the idea of you wearing his clothes. It wasn’t the idea of you wearing his clothes specifically, but the idea that he knows how much you cherish them. It was the one way he expressed himself to others, through his style and the way he presented to people.

You can’t deny how different it feels now, being around Eddie. Sleepovers were normal for a while—your parents loved him, Wayne loved you, it was easy. You’d spend endless nights listening to music or helping Eddie work through a campaign, sometimes having the rest of the club over for impromptu game sessions or normal hangouts, or watching Eddie fiddle with his guitar, practicing his songs on you before he’d jam out at The Hideout the next night.

“Eddie,” Your voice is timid, fingers playing with the bracelet around your wrist, something small that Eddie had given to all of Hellfire as a gift—the giant sap he was, “can I ask you something?”

Eddie leans forward, suddenly tense, like there’s some impending doom that’s creeping up on him. “Yeah.” You could talk to him, you always could. This wasn’t different.

It was okay.

Just ask him. Just say it.

“Why do you treat me so differently?” Eddie visibly shifts, watching as your legs curl underneath you, hands planted in your lap.

“Come on—“ Eddie laughs awkwardly, motioning toward you, “you’re you—is that not obvious?”

“I don’t scare you, Eddie. Don’t try that bullshit.” You look down, picking at the week old nail polish on your thumb, “I just—I need to know.”

With graduation rearing its ugly head, you weren’t sure how much time you had left with him. Eddie was bound to graduate, he was—you’d made sure of it. He’d been stuck to your side all year, allowing you to help guide him through his classes, take shit seriously—give himself the chance he deserved. It wasn’t that Eddie couldn’t do the work; he wasn’t dumb or naïve, it was the idea that he didn’t think he could, stuck in the never-ending cycle of having to drag himself up that mountain for the past three years.

Eddie’s silent for too long, eyes glancing to every item in the room that wasn’t you. It wasn’t even worth waiting for an answer that wasn’t going to come, he’d never be able to understand how you felt or how things changed—or when, or how intensely you cared about him, beyond the threshold of friends.

“Nevermind,” You sigh, standing from the bed, “forget I asked—“

Eddie’s hand dwarfs your wrist, the way his fingers wrap around the skin. It’s not rough or demanding, but he doesn’t let you go.

“Do you not see it?” Eddie asked, voice soft, unnatural. You’ve never heard him speak that way, like he was broken down and exhausted. “Don't you know what you’re doing to me?”

The hand that isn’t prisoner in his grip wraps around his own wrist, pulling his attention toward your face. There’s a vulnerability when your eyes connect. You’ve seen it before, but not like this.

Was this all it took? Was this all you needed to do? Had he really been that scared to say something without you taking that first step?

“That’s why I’m asking, Eddie.” He can barely hear you over the pounding rain on the roof of the trailer, you step closer, in between his parted legs, kneeling until you’re eye level with him. He can’t hide from you now and you’re not sure he wants to. “It wasn’t always like this. You get quiet around me all the time, make weird excuses about having to leave. You can talk to me, you know—I’ve known you for half of my life, I think that counts for something.”

“I don’t want to ruin this.” He’s got his hands clasped between you both, grip tightening as he speaks. You can’t tell if he’s trying to hurt or ground himself, using pain as leverage. You gently pry his hands apart, twisting them into your own.

You’ve held hands before, it’s a familiar feeling. He’s got a warm touch and rough, calloused fingertips, small cuts on his hands from how often he worked with them. Eddie even let you paint them sometimes, his pinky fingers still left with the remnants of some cheap black nail polish you used.

“This? Our friendship?” You asked, feeling where he was headed—knowing he thought this was going nowhere and you were going to bolt any second. “Eddie, I’ve been in love with you for two years now.”

Eddie can’t find the words to speak, so he listens.

“It’s probably been longer—and maybe I always have been, even when you were that annoying middle schooler who ran around scaring people for fun and picking on me because I started to like Abba and you thought it was the ‘ultimate betrayal’.” You mock his voice, pulling a quiet laugh from him.

Eddie wasn’t always as open with his feelings as you were, not that you cared. But, it would’ve made things a hell of a lot easier if he had told you this from the start, when things started to change. It would’ve ended all the running in circles, tiptoeing around certain things to avoid making each other uncomfortable, you would’ve had more time.

“I’m an idiot.” He shakes his head, pulling his hand away from you to rub his palm into his eye. “I think I knew—I just didn’t want to believe it.”

“Believe what? That I liked you?” You ask, disbelief evident in your voice. “You’re shitting me, Eddie.”

He shrugs. He fucking shrugs.

“All the times I tried holding your hand? All the times I invited you to sleep over, knowing there was only one bed? How many times have I sat on your lap during lunch in front of the boys?” It all seemed trivial, in hindsight.

“I thought you were just doing that to fuck with me.” Eddie says, “It wasn’t that out of character—you always ask to cuddle with me when we watch movies or listen to music—“

Your eyes narrow, hoping he would catch on to the words that were coming out of his mouth. It was obvious, so blatantly obvious. And he does, thank god.

“Oh,” Eddie says softly, but then, “Oh—why didn’t you say something then?”

“Aren’t I asking you the same thing?”

Eddie chuckles, muffled by the way his hands rub over his face, eventually letting his head hang in his hands. Eddie was the human embodiment of doubt and procrastination. He had been, for years. Fortunately, you knew exactly how to counter that.

“Look, I’m gonna save us both a lot of grief and kiss you.” You tell him, hands curling around his face, pulling his own hands away. “You can decide whether you hate me or not after.”

And Eddie, he doesn’t give you the chance. It’s the first time he’s ever done something for himself, that he wanted, that he needed—and he does it without hesitation, hand slipping around the back of your neck and pulling you toward him before you can even comprehend what’s happening.

You grunt softly, falling into his chest. You never thought his lips would be this soft—but they taste exactly like you expect; cigarettes and fresh mint, like the toothpaste he kept in his bathroom cabinet. It’s him, it’s all him—aside from the artificial cinnamon scent from the candles scattered around the house, providing you with light to see his face.

When he pulls back, he’s staring right at you, eyes desperately searching for your own, wondering if he’d been too crass.

“Dude, you’re always stealing my thunder.” You laugh, shoving his face away playfully.

“You’re welcome.” He smirks, eyebrow quirking up in amusement as he pulls you back toward him, hand slipping behind your back to nudge you into his lap and off that dingy carpet of his bedroom floor. Eddie doesn’t waste another second telling you exactly how he feels.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #my writing #i hate this the longer i look at it #so i'm posting it now before i start over #1kfc

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jobean12-blog · 2 years

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Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 762

Summary: Bucky’s a tease but two can play at that game.

Author’s Note: The whole drive to work this morning I was thinking about how Seb always sits with his legs spread wide and I mean...he’s obviously asking for it. So yea. Thankfully, my lovely friends @navybrat817 @christywantspizza @buckybarneschokeme @beefybuckrrito for their support and encouragement and help with forming an idea around my horny thoughts! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ Divider by @imerdwarf

Warnings: teasing, flirting, light dirty talk, implied thigh riding and smut (18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!)

“Can you please tell your man to close his legs?”

You nearly spit out your water at Sam’s words, your eyes narrowing when you look over his shoulder and see Bucky sitting against the wall with his thighs spread wide and shit eating grin on his lips.

“That asshole,” you mutter before finishing your drink.

“I mean it’s not like his dick is so big he can’t close them,” Sam deadpans.

You drag your eyes away from Bucky and smirk knowingly at Sam.

Sam sighs in exasperation and walks off to grab his phone.

You rest your back to the wall and watch Bucky. He knows you’re staring but he continues to sit there and smile, every so often widening the stance of his legs. His metal hand rubs along his thick thigh before he lifts it and runs it through his hair.

Sam walks over to Bucky and starts showing him something on the phone. Bucky looks down but only for a moment before he meets your gaze and holds it steady, his eyes sparkling with heat. You lift your brows in challenge and saunter off to the bathroom. You can feel the weight of his stare at your back and you add some extra sway to your hips.

When you return you find him in the same position, his attention back on Sam.

“What are you two talking about?” you ask as you drape yourself over Bucky’s lap.

“Just going over some information Torres sent us,” Sam states as he scrolls through the phone.

You wind your arm around Bucky’s neck and rest your palm on his chest, wiggling to get comfortable. He clears his throat and shoots you a warning glare. You shift again, rubbing your ass over his thigh and inching yourself higher.

His metal hand circles your waist and his fingers dig into your skin. The tight clench of his jaw draws your attention back to his face and you smile sweetly.

“You ok Buck?” you ask, kissing his cheek.

He grunts in answer, tightening his grip on your hip.

“Are you sure?” you ask again, tilting your head with feigned concern. “You look really grumpy.”

“I’ll be fine once this is over,” he grumbles. “But I’m gonna ruin you,” he says, much more quietly.

“What was that?” Sam asks, eyeing you both.

You shrug and Bucky just stares. Sam goes on with a roll of his eyes.

You lay your head on Bucky’s shoulder and twirl the chain of his dog tags around your fingers. Sam continues to relay the information Torres sent over and Bucky does his best to listen.

Your fingers dance up his chest and you turn his head slightly, pressing your lips to the shell of his ear.

“Can you hold something in your pocket for me baby? This skirt doesn’t have any,” you whisper.

He cocks his head and watches you intensely. You carefully slide your free hand over and push something into his palm. He looks down and brushes his thumb over the soft and silky fabric of your underwear.

With a sharp intake of breath, he balls his hand into a fist and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, quickly stuffing the material into his jacket pocket. He grabs your chin in his hand and fixes his eyes on you.

“You’re not being a very good girl right now,” he whispers against your lips.

“You started it,” you sass back and pull away, sliding your free hand into his jacket.

Sam’s phone rings and he holds up his finger before getting up and moving to the other side of the room. Bucky quickly glances Sam’s way, making sure he’s occupied, and then grabs your waist and sits you over his thigh.

“Bucky,” you gasp, moaning at the friction from his jeans.

“What’s the matter baby doll?” he simpers.

You grab a fistful of his shirt and rock your hips. “You. Started. It.”

His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s too heated for the situation and when Sam clears his throat you pull away and bury your face in Bucky’s neck.

“Don’t worry. I’m used to it by now,” Sam huffs. “Listen, I need to get to my computer Buck. Can you meet me in a few?”

“Yea. See you soon,” Bucky answers and you wave goodbye to Sam.

“You better hurry up Barnes. Don’t keep me waiting.”

With those famous last words, you try to stand but he holds you in place, putting more pressure between your legs.

“Where do you think you’re going doll face. I’m gonna finish what I started.”

@book-dragon-13 @dreamlessinparis @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @lipstickandbarbedwxre @lookiamtrying @loricamebackyetagain @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @musicalmuffindog1410 @lfnr-blog-blog-blog @late-to-the-party-81 @soldatbvcky @breakablebarnes @weekendgothgirl @turbolisedcomet @thebluemage @bb-skyrunner

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female!reader #bucky

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dreamlessinparis · 2 years

Text

Trapped in a Tangled Web

Pairing: Dark!Steve x F!Reader

Sequel to Run Rabbit Run

Summary: After the party that changed your life, you try to grasp your new reality, despite all the curve balls being thrown your way.

Word Count: 6951

Warning: explicit language, violence, mentions of blood, fear, pregnancy, blood, mean!Steve, dark!Lee (as a side character), starvation, spanking, mentions of kidnapping, punishment, 18+, prison cell, mental torment, bit of Stockholm syndrome, smut, mentions of throwing up, threats, choking, death, mentions of murder, Serial!Killer!Steve

A/N: This is a sequel to Run Rabbit Run, it's not entirely necessary to read that one first but it is advised because some things will make more sense, that's their origin story. This story is part of my serial killer quartet, all the men will have two parts to their stories, a how they met and a flash into the later on. There might end up being more parts but initially just gonna be two parts each. This is Steve's part two. I wanted to have these posted last month but I didn't have time sadly. A huge thank you to my lovely friend @wakingbeauty ❤️ You're the absolute best babe! All mistakes are still my own. Hope you enjoy!

if you’re a minor, please DNI!

Please do not repost, publish or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading :)

You stared out the window beside your bed, watching the large trees sway in the wind of the storm. The full moon’s bright light peeked through the dense clouds. You used to love the moonlight but now it reminded you too much of the night you were taken, the night you lost your friends, and essentially your life.

A wave of nausea washed over you and you rushed as quietly as possible to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. Barely making it to your knees, you heaved out your guts into the porcelain bowl.

“Doll, you alright?” Steve’s caring voice asked, the door slowly inching open. His sweet demeanor always threw you off because you knew the true horrors that lied underneath. What he was truly capable of. He crouched next to you, holding your hair as the thought brought on another wave.

His free hand rubbed your back, soothing you more than you wanted to admit. It was not your fault though, Steve was truly all you had left, he had made sure of that. So the desperation of that had you holding onto him for dear life. You hated yourself for it but it was all you could do. The man was a monster hidden behind a handsome face but as long as you behaved and took him like a good girl, he didn’t hurt you. In fact, he had the ability to make you feel so good, that sometimes you could pretend you actually wanted it.

Sitting back on your heels, you wiped your mouth with some toilet paper. Steve sat silently with you as you accessed if your body was actually done. Nodding to yourself, you started to get up. His hands found your waist, helping you up and you did your best not to flinch away.

“I’m okay, Steve,” you said, your voice scratchy from the strain. You tried to step out of his hold but he stayed firm.

“Steve, let me go so I can brush my teeth and go back to bed please,” you pleaded, trying again to pull away. This time he let you, stepping aside so you could reach the sink.

“Are you sick? Do you feel unwell anywhere else?” he asked, leaning against the wall behind you. He was watching you through the mirror and you returned his gaze, shaking your head as you prepared your toothbrush.

“No, I feel fine otherwise. Must have been something I ate,” you replied before beginning to brush your teeth.

“Or what you haven’t been eating,” Steve retorted, coming up to stand next to you. His fingers caressed the nape of your neck, before gripping it lightly. For anybody else, this could have been a loving gesture but for Steve, you knew it was a warning, “Don’t think I haven’t been noticing how little you’ve been eating,” he whispered. Your eyes widened in fear and surprise. But you should have known that nothing slipped his notice, “Don’t make me bring the tube back out.”

You quickly shook your head, spitting out the paste and gargling out your mouth.

“I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t doing it on purpose, I just haven’t had much of an appetite lately. I’ll do better!”

“That’s my good girl,” Steve praised, stroking the back of your head before moving to wipe your mouth with a towel. He took your clammy hand and pulled you back into the bedroom.

Once the two of you were settled back into bed, Steve pulled you to his chest, holding you tight against him. He fell asleep almost immediately. You, on the other hand, laid awake in his impossibly strong arms for what felt like hours, until it became too hard to stay awake and your body went under.

🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕

Since you were one of the first girls to be not a prisoner, better yet not a murder victim, you had earned the freedom to roam the house, occasionally the yard if Steve was outside too. Yet most of your time was spent in the library. The main area was usually occupied by Bucky’s girl and that girl still frightened you, was too wild and murderous.

Your room was also not an option, there were too many bad memories. Not sexually, all those were reserved for your time in your concrete prison. However, when Steve had deemed you safe enough to move upstairs, he left you alone a lot especially when he had “business” to attend to. What he had never known was that the vent in his room was linked to the basement. So every day and some nights you would have to listen to the tortured screams and desperate pleas of their victims.

You never told Steve why he would come back to find you trembling on the bed every night. You just assumed he knew and was doing it so that he could comfort you at night. It only took you two weeks to break. Steve came back to find you hiding under the bed, a pillow covering your head, repeating the words ‘please make it stop, I’ll be good’ over and over again.

Steve had coaxed you out and even heard the sounds himself as Lee was still in the basement working through his share of women. Immediately he took you out to the hallway, yelling down the stairs telling Bucky to tell Lee to cut it out. That night the two of you spent the night in a guest room. Steve liked you scared but only when he was causing the terror so the next day he had the basement completely soundproofed, especially to his room. The memories still lingered and you couldn’t bring yourself to spend too much time in there alone.

So that’s why Steve found you curled up with a book on one of the comfy lounge chairs of the library. You were so lost in your book that you didn’t hear him coming, nearly jumping out of your skin when his hand landed on your arm.

“Sorry doll, I called your name twice. Thought you had heard me,” Steve said, sitting down beside you.

“That’s because I was pretending to be anywhere but here,” you mumbled under your breath, hiding your face behind the book. Steve grabbed the top of the pages, pushing the book down. The look on his face told you that despite not having heard what you said, he knew you had said something he wasn’t going to like. Panicking internally you backtracked, “I’m sorry I was lost in the book. Did you need something?”

“I wanted to see you before Lee and I left to get more girls. I didn’t want to leave before seeing you,” Steve said, gliding his fingers down your cheek. You knew what he wanted, and you didn’t want to fight him. You were already so tired lately, fighting him seemed too much effort. Instead, you leaned into his touch, and he smiled at your easy submission.

His hand continued down your torso, meeting the other one at your hip before pulling you into his lap. You straddle him, your thighs on either side of his, and you stroke your fingers through his hair, coming down to run through his beard. He made a low sound, similar to a purr, closing his eyes at your touch.

It was moments like this where you forgot that you were his prisoner and just enjoyed his company. You continued your motions back up through his hair, tugging at the roots the way he liked it. You began to pepper kisses on his face, finally kissing him on the lips. The kiss was feverish and passionate, one that made you tingly all over. His hands were splayed on your upper back, holding you flush to his body as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

Your fingers scratched through his scalp causing him to groan into your mouth. Losing yourself in his taste, you let your body submit to the sensations, grinding your hips down. It was your turn to moan, his hardening length gliding over your aching cunt with each motion. Your hands slid down, hugging his broad shoulders, something about these moments made you want to be as close to his body as possible.

Deep down you didn’t like that he was leaving, you didn’t want to be alone without his protection. He trusted Bucky and Curtis enough not to hurt you but without him, you didn’t feel truly safe. It hurt you to admit it but it was true, so you were going to savor his presence for as long as he was around.

Sliding his hands down your back, he grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. Your lack of bra made him grunt in approval, ducking his head down to feather kisses all over your bare breasts. Your back arched for him, and he pulled a nipple into his mouth, sucking and tugging it gently, before moving to the next one. His hands roughly kneaded your ass through your shorts, pushing your hips down on his as he worked on your tits.

Gasps and soft whimpers fell from your lips, and your whole body was aflame from his touch. Needy to feel more of him, you grabbed at his shirt gathering it up in your hands and trying to pull it up. He released your skin with a pop, compiling to your want and pulling the shirt up over his head. His sculpted body was a marvel to see every time, yet you couldn’t help running your fingers over his bulging pecs, tracing down the lines of his abs. One day you were going to have to ask him if he would let you kiss and bite your way down his torso, but he probably wouldn’t agree to it, being that he liked to be in control.

You leaned down, kissing his chest, his neck, his shoulder before grabbing his face and pressing your lips to his. Steve didn’t break the kiss, as he reached between you two and worked on taking himself out of his pants. You followed his lead, blindly reaching down to help him. You took hold of his cock, and pulled him free carefully. It felt heavy and velvety beneath your touch and you twisted your wrist, pumping him slowly. Steve’s head fell forward on your shoulder, his breathing heavy, the only sign he was affected by your touch.

He hooked a finger under your shorts and panties, pulling them aside, running his thumb through your wet folds. Deciding you were wet enough to take him, he wrapped his hand over yours, helping you guide his cock head over through the swollen petals, and lining up to your greedy hole. He moved his hold to your hips, slowly sinking you onto his cock. Your hands held onto his shoulders, biting your lips as his girth stretched you out. No matter how many times you had taken him, you could never get used to his size, needing to adjust to the burn every time.

He bucked up into you, making you dig your nails into his shoulders. Steve rarely gave you time to adjust, he didn’t seem to really care much for your discomfort, knowing eventually that you would start to enjoy it. Plus you knew he was in a rush, so you were surprised he hadn’t flipped you two over and fucked you into the seat yet.

All you could do was hold on as he fucked up into you at a fast pace, a pace that had you throwing your head back and screaming his name. Your breasts bounced along with his thrusts and if anyone were to walk into the library right now, they would get quite a show. You didn’t care though, his dick was stroking spots in you that made you see stars. He was so deep in you that you could feel the breath get punched out of you with each snap of his hips.

“Fuck doll, I’m going to miss the tight cunt when I’m gone. You gonna keep it nice and warm for me okay?” Steve grunted in your ear. You keened in response, no proper words forming in your head as he nudged your cervix, “That’s my girl. So fucking good for me.”

You could feel yourself getting close to your climax, your body beginning to tense up. Steve felt you clench around him, kissing along your throat and keeping his rhythm steady.

“Steve, I’m going to come,” you whimpered, gripping his shoulders tighter.

“Go ahead, doll. Come for me,” Steve growled, using his thumb to tap your clit rapidly, and launching you over that edge. You cried out his name, succumbing to pleasure that washed over your body. You rolled your hips down, meeting his as he kept going, wanting to help him reach his climax. The aftershocks of your orgasm kept steady as you fluttered around him. You could tell by the way his breathing hitched and his body tensed that he was close too.

Steve kissed you roughly, just as his orgasm hit triggering your second orgasm, and he covered your silky walls with his spend. He continued rutting his hips until every last drop coated your insides. In this position, you could feel him shoot his cum so far in you that it would forever be a part of you. Even after he was done, he stayed lodged in you, letting you come down from your high.

You rested your forehead to his, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. His hands caressed your skin, memorizing every part of you he could.

“I’m going to miss you,” you admitted before you could stop yourself. His head snapped up and he regarded you with a curious gaze.

“Me or my cock, doll?” he teased and you ducked your head, hiding in his neck.

“No Steve, you. I’m going to miss you,” you murmured into his skin. He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you up so he could see your face again. He was gauging whether you were serious or not and you didn’t know what had come over you but you truly were going to miss him.

“So that means that you don’t want me fucking any of the girls I capture, right?” Steve asked, his face joking. You growled suddenly becoming possessive.

“Fuck no. You touch another woman, you don’t touch me!” you replied. Steve’s face turned to stone, his large hand wrapping around your throat cutting off your windpipe.

“Excuse me? Don’t think that just because I fuck you softly, means that you have any right to talk to me like that. You’re mine, I can fuck a million girls and still come back and bury myself in this pussy,” He growled, holding your face close to his, his breath hot on your skin, “This pussy is mine, understand?”

His hand roughly cupped your mound and a broken moan fell from your lips. He eased up on your throat, allowing you to gasp for air.

“Yes sir,” you croaked out, rubbing your throat, “Sorry sir.”

He pretty much pulled you off his cock and shoved you to the side. You grabbed the back of the chair as to not fall off when you bounced roughly. Steve adjusted himself back in his jeans, grabbing his shirt before standing up.

“This is not how I wanted to leave things. But you had to get fucking greedy didn’t you?” Steve spat, yanking his shirt over his head. You silently put yours back on, afraid to say anything else to piss him off, “Couldn’t just be a good girl.”

“I’m always good, Steve,” you mumbled. His head snapped in your direction and you sank back into your seat.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing!” you defended quickly. He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, pulling up and bending you over the desk nearby. You shrieked as he yanked down your shorts and panties and slapped your ass so hard that crack echoed in the empty library. His hand met your skin again before the pain of the first smack set in and soon your ass felt like it was on fire. Steve kept going on until he was satisfied with the redness of your ass cheeks, ignoring your tears and your pleas for him to stop. Your cheek was warm compared to the cool wood that it was pressed against. Your whole body heaved with sobs, as Steve rounded the desk, bending down to kiss you on your temple.

“Now that you have a reminder of what happens when you’re not a good girl, doll, I hope you’ll remember this, or I promise much worse punishments to come,” He whispered softly. You almost couldn’t hear him over the pounding in your ears, but you nodded silently anyways, “Don’t worry baby, I’m not going to fuck anyone else while I’m gone.”

And with that he left you, bent over and crying into the wood. As soon as the door shut, you slid off the desk, onto your knees, letting out a pain cry when your ass touched the ground. Instinctively you rolled over onto your stomach and laid there, feeling your whole body ache. You were so mad at yourself, he was being nice and you had to go and provoke him. Yet something about him having another girl drove you up a wall. The words came out before you could stop them and you suffered the consequences. You don’t know why you ever thought that you were more to him than a prisoner, a toy, his cum slut. It caused you nothing but pain for you not to remember that.

Slowly you got to your knees, hissing as you pulled your shorts back up. You limped your way back to your room, luckily avoiding anyone along the way. Steve usually puts a salve on your ass after he gets rough during sex but this was a punishment so different circumstances.

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It took 3 weeks into Steve's absence to realize that the nausea wasn't food-related. It took another week for you to get up the nerve to talk to Bucky's girl and ask her to get you a test. She was the only one the men, mainly Bucky, trusted enough to let off the compound. She mostly worked to replenish supplies but also went out with Bucky and Curtis to get girls.

Surprisingly she was kind to you, not asking questions and bringing back exactly what you needed. She even sat with you while you waited for the test to complete, telling Bucky to leave the two of you alone for a bit. You guessed that Steve told Bucky to keep an eye on you especially after how you two left things.

You still couldn't properly sit down, a dull ache lingering every time you did. You had begun to wonder if it was a phantom pain or if it actually hadn't healed yet. The two of you sat on the made bed, the bed that you hadn't touched since Steve left. At first, it was in protest of his punishment but then it became apparent that despite everything you truly missed him. Missed that sick cruel man and couldn't bring yourself to sleep alone in that bed without him.

The timer went off and she looked at you expectantly. When she saw you had no intention of moving, she pulled her hand from yours and went to the bathroom. Her face was blank when she returned, leaning on the door frame.

"I don't know what face to make because I'm not sure what kind of news you're expecting here," she admitted. You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you pondered the same thing.

"Honestly I'm not too sure about it myself. Am I pregnant?" You asked hesitantly and after a moment’s hesitation, she nodded.

Your heart sank, you couldn't bring a baby into this household. What kind of life would it have? A life where just down the hall, Daddy is murdering women? You shook your head, trying to clear the thought, and began to cry.

Bucky's girl wrapped you up in a hug swaying you back and forth. She was quite understanding for someone who seemed to enjoy this life. Maybe it was the fact that you two had been here the longest, and she just took a liking to you. You weren't sure but you were glad to not be alone.

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For weeks after, you worried yourself sick wondering how Steve would react to the news. You did your best to eat as much as possible but the worry combined with nausea made it difficult.

Curtis and Bucky both hovered in the room whenever you were downstairs and you could feel that watching your every move. You didn't know if Bucky's girl told Curtis' but whenever they noticed your unease, they distracted their men. You knew for Bucky's girl this wasn't a big deal, she actually loved the bastard but Curtis', that girl caused Curtis more harm than any of the rest of you so you knew it was a huge step for her to willingly get his attention.

You were thankful to not be alone but it didn't do much for the nerves. The day Steve was due to get back, you were so shaken up that you kept dropping everything and anything. Bucky had kicked you out of the kitchen after you broke three eggs and a measuring cup. It wasn't just Steve's impending arrival that scared you, it was the fact that you caught sight of yourself this morning, the slight curve of your stomach quite apparent on your wilting frame. There was no way you could hide this from Steve for too long.

Wearing the biggest sweatshirt you could find in Steve's closet, you were dozing off in one of the armchairs by the fire. The open floor plan of the first level allowed you to be as far as possible from everyone else in the room but still where they could see you.

You must have actually fallen asleep because the next thing you knew you were jolted awake by a door slamming. Your eyes flew open and you saw Lee dragging in two unconscious girls, one over his shoulder, the other by the hair behind him. He had blood all down the front of his t-shirt and it sent a chill up your spine.

He was never the most cheerful of the bunch but the deep scowl on his face now, made you shrink even further in your seat, hoping he didn't look your way. From the look of things, the trip wasn't as successful as they wanted it.

You noticed that Curtis' girl was gone and you got up too, trying to sneak off before the next man came in with more girls. You truly hoped none of them were conscious, it was one thing to see them unconscious but when they were awake, their sad eyes and desperate pleas made your heart clench. You always averted your eyes but their faces remained burned in your memory.

Halfway to the stairs the door opened and shut again, this time harder than the last, the screen rattled in its frame. You made the mistake of looking back. There stood Steve, his front also covered in blood but more, way more. It painted the front of his jeans, his tight t-shirt, and his hands. His thick beard looked like it was coated as well, with a few streaks over the rest of his face like someone ran a hand over it.

His blue eyes looked even brighter with the darkened beard and they were locked on you.

"What are you doing down here?" He snarled, advancing on you. You knew he couldn't possibly be mad that you were down here because you had been here before, the last time they brought in more girls. He was furious about something else and you were the only target around.

Subconsciously your hand dropped to your stomach protectively. His eyes never wavered from yours so he didn't take notice of it.

"I asked you a question. Answer me!"

"I fell asleep in the chair Steve, I was just going back up before anyone came back in."

"And when you saw me, why did you keep going? Why didn't you come to greet me?"

You were surprised at the direction of his questions, but then you realized what he was trying to do. He was looking for reasons to be mad at you, to channel whatever rage he had into you. You slowly began to back away and gulped when his eyes darkened.

"I didn't. I - uhm - Steve you're covered in blood," was your meek response. His eyes glinted with a mixture of anger and amusement and you couldn't decide with emotion you disliked more.

"That shouldn't matter, doll. You should come running when you see me. Be a good girl. I think you've forgotten your manners," Steve said, clearly baiting you. You kept your mouth shut, knowing you would fall into the trap so easily, say something you shouldn't. "Found plenty of girls this go around who would make great replacements for you. Maybe I should give you to Lee. Get me a new girl."

You tried to bite your tongue, but you had had enough of this. He goaded you constantly, making you think he didn't care, but you knew he did because otherwise, he wouldn't try so hard to break you. He would have gotten rid of you a long time ago, had you been disposable.

"Fine Steve, do it then. Give me to Lee. Find yourself a new prisoner. I'm nothing to you anyways," you snapped back and Steve flinched like you had hit him before his face turned deadly. You knew you'd fucked up long before you felt his hand wrap around your throat.

His grip was ironclad and you were gasping from how tightly he held you, clawing desperately at his veiny forearm. It terrified you that he could actually kill you so easily. You had never pushed back at him like this, this was new. You probably shouldn’t have done it when he was already clearly upset. Emotions won over you this time, the worst time possible. You had just signed your death warrant.

“Steve.” You managed to get out, but he didn’t falter as he used his hand like a collar, his arm the leash. He walked with a fierce purpose but instead of going upstairs, he bypassed them heading to the padlocked basement door. Your eyes widened in fear and you began to drag your feet trying to slow him down.

“Steve! No, no, no, please,” you begged, continuing to chant no desperately. You couldn’t go back there, locked in that small, dark room, the room where Steve had kept you alone, only showing up for mealtimes and sex.

He descended the stairs, your pleas falling on deaf ears, the sound soon melding into the cacophony of the cries of the other girls, a mixture of exuberant voices and tired, cracked whispers. Your whole body trembled the closer Steve got your old hole. You almost wished that it would be occupied so he would put you elsewhere.

Alas, luck wasn’t on your side when he stopped in front of your old door.

“I’m sorry, sir. Please, I’ll do anything!” you croaked out in a last-ditch effort. Steve simply tightened his hand, completely cutting off your airway. Your clawing became even more gouging. The metal door swung open and Steve shoved you in, tossing you carelessly onto the dirty, thin mattress in the corner. You gasped hungrily for air, you couldn’t form any words but you reached out for Steve.

Your fingers skimmed his pants before he moved out of reach. Your body felt weak, still trembling as you tried to crawl after him. Steve slammed the door shut just as you reached it. The little window slid open and Steve’s face came into view.

“I had a fucking long day and I wanted to come home to bury myself in you, doll. I had even forgiven you for the shit you pulled before I left. Then you had to run your mouth again,” Steve hissed. “Mouthy bitches end up dead around here. Lucky for you I like how your pussy feels around me, so I’m just going to punish you this time. Next time you won’t be so lucky.”

The window shut before you could try to answer him. The room was plunged into a dark, the silence almost suffocating. Numbly you crawled to the mattress, as far in the corner as you could. You pulled your knees up, curling into yourself.

Shutting your eyes tightly trying to pretend you weren’t in here, but ghosts of your screams and other memories haunted you. The cold and silence made those things echo in your mind on repeat. Tears fell freely, loud sobs filling the small space.

You leaned your head on the concrete wall, running your fingers over the wall. Despite the fact that you couldn't see, you knew it was stained with blood, your blood. The last time you were in here, you had clawed at the wall, delusional enough to think you could scratch your way out. Your nails had been raw and bloody by the time Steve had come to check on you.

Suddenly the room filled with light and the door clicked open. Your head snapped up, a sense of hope raced through you.

That hope was quickly crushed when you saw Lee instead of Steve. He held a girl in his arms, looking shocked to see you but that shock morphed into an amused smirk. Dropping the girl carelessly next to you, he crouched in front of you getting close.

"Oh, little birdie what did you do to end up back in this cage?" He taunted, his whiskey and smoke-laced breath fanning over your face and you retreated further into the wall, "Maybe if he doesn't want you anymore, I could always take care of you."

His fingers were wet when he trailed them down your cheek. You stayed perfectly still, biting your lips to quiet your whimpers.

"So lovely when you cry," he whispered, placing a kiss on your cheek before he got up, leaving you alone again. The click of the door was such a final sound, the nail on your coffin. Your body felt cold and you wiped the spot Lee had touched you with the back of your hand.

It had blood on it when you looked down. That's why his hand felt wet. You viciously rubbed your cheek trying to clean it off. Using the bottom of your shirt, Steve's shirt, you wiped off as much as you could. You went back to rest your head against the wall again, hugging yourself.

Your bones ached, muscles cramping the more you sat, but you didn't move. The hours dragged on, you wished you could fall asleep, but every time you shut your eyes, the memories that loomed over, came back.

The other girl was still unconscious, slumped in an uncomfortable position. Normally you would try to fix her form but you were too paralyzed to move. Focusing on a spot on the wall, you tried to take deep breaths, but nothing seemed to ease your panic.

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You managed to zone out for a bit and no one came back for you. Becoming aware of that fact the panic began to deepen, accompanied by a weakness in your bones. You tried to remember the last time you ate.

Probably yesterday afternoon. Your stomach growled as if answering your question. You were sure at this point a couple of meals had passed by. Suddenly you were hungry, yet the thought of food turned your stomach. You wanted the other girl to wake up just so you had some kind of noise or conversation.

Your muscles ached as you unraveled from the ball you were in to reach out to the girl. The drug they used should have worn off by now. You nudged her shoulder, nothing. The closer you got, the better you saw that the shallow breathing that was there hours ago was not gone. The girl was dead, probably for some time now.

You recoiled back, wiping your hand on the mattress. The tears returned, you were tired, scared, hungry, and quite thirsty. The dog bowl full of water sat next to you, but the dead roach in it deferred you. You weren't that desperate yet.

It began to sink in that you were not only trapped but trapped with a dead girl. Soon you might be in her position. The terror gripped you and you began to scream, Loyd and throat-ripping.

You kept going until your throat was raw and your voice was no higher than a whisper. No one came. Where the fuck was everyone? Where was Steve? Did he seriously toss you aside? Did he forget you?

At least Lee would come back for you. The disturbing thought brought you more comfort than it should have. You just needed something to hold on to. Something to anchor your slipping sanity. You felt cold, a chill setting into your bones, the hunger making you feel lightheaded. Your hand slid down to your stomach, another wave of tears crashing through you at the thought of your unborn child.

Pressing a hand to the wall to steady yourself, you slowly got to your feet. If you were going to die, at least you could be pounding at the door when you do. The room spun as you got fully upright. Leaning your full weight on the wall, you made your way to the door. It took far longer than it should have, your feet felt like they were encased in concrete, weighing you down with each step.

Finally reaching the door, you slumped against the metal, the coolness waking you up a tad. Only momentarily as your knees began to buckle and you slid downward. You weakly slapped the door, using all the strength you had. The last of it was ebbing out of you like air out of a balloon. Unconsciousness attached itself to you, dragging you into the dark water, further and further down until you hear a loud crack of lightning. How were you hearing lightning? The dull pain began to worsen by the minute, making you realize that that sound was your head hitting the cement ground. That realization was the last thing you remember before darkness took you over.

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A steady beeping noise filled the room. Was an alarm going off? No, it was too low for an alarm. Plus the basement doesn’t have an alarm. Maybe you should suggest they get one in case one of the girls escaped. Well if you ever got out of the basement yourself; guess your ghost could tell them.

You heard the sounds of a babbling brook, which also made no sense. How hard had you hit your head? Your eyes felt almost glued shut when you tried to open them. Breathing slowly, you take inventory of yourself. Your whole body felt heavy, like you were emerging from quicksand. The blanket covering you was soft and this mattress felt too soft to be the one in the basement. Where the fuck were you?

Oh fuck. You were dead. That was the only plausible explanation. You tried to open your eyes again, having more luck this time. Light penetrated your vision and your eyes snapped, squeezing tightly to keep out the light.

With great effort, you lift your hand over your eyes and carefully squint your eyes open. Sunlight filtered through the window, illuminating the whole room. Slowly you adjusted to the light, taking in your surroundings. You were definitely not downstairs and you weren't dead either. You recognized this room, it was the only bedroom on the first floor. The "hospital" room. Mainly it was used for the men if they got hurt and females they needed to sterilize. Something they used to do when they still fucked the girls they killed. Well, Lee still did, but he didn't have a girl. Who would love a bastard like him anyway? Come to think of it, who would love any of them?

Since the cabin was in the middle of nowhere, it was fully equipped with hospital supplies and machines. Steve had mentioned to you once that before all this, he had worked as an EMT, and still knew someone who could provide him with the equipment and medicine needed.

Blinking a few times until you could fully open your eyes, you tried to sit up. Your body wasn't having it so instead, you looked around to see if anyone was there with you. The beeping you had heard came from the machine you were hooked up to. An IV was attached to it, leading into your arm. You must have been receiving fluids or something to keep you alive.

The babbling brook grew louder and you realized it wasn't water but a murmur of voices out in the living room. The closer they got, the more you could make out.

"Why the fuck did no one tell me she wasn't eating?" Steve spat. Ah, Steve, your body trembled at the thought of him, yet somehow your heart wanted him to come in so you see him. There was something wrong with you if you were yearning for that man after everything.

Your hand moved to your belly, the slight curve still apparent but that didn't mean much.

"We didn't know, Steve!" Bucky replied, "It's not like we could watch her all day!"

Steve growled and you heard something hit the wall. A body perhaps?

"Steve, stop!" You heard Bucky's girl exclaim, "She probably wasn't eating because she wasn't feeling well. I remember her mentioning that ever since the baby, she had no appe…" her voice trailed off, before she exclaimed fuck loudly, realizing her slip up.

"The what?" Steve asked, his voice almost too low for you to hear. You strained yourself to listen harder, wincing when your body ached at the tension, "did you say the baby?"

Something slid down the wall, definitely a body and you assumed Bucky was let go. The door swung open, revealing Steve who faltered for a moment not expecting you to be awake or staring at him with a wide-eyed expression.

He shut the door behind him, locking it and you knew, this was it. He found out about the baby and now he was going to kill you. Fuck. You tried to sit up again, maybe attempt to get out of bed but your body wasn't cooperating. It wanted to stay put, too tired to try anything.

"Stop trying to get out of the bed, doll," Steve commanded, slowly approaching the bed. He seemed almost fearful that you were going to hurt yourself or freak out.

"Please," you whispered, your throat still raw from all the screaming you'd done, however many days ago. You swallowed a couple times before trying again, "please don't kill me."

Steve was shocked by your words, but he still came closer, taking a seat next to your bed.

"I'm not going to kill you. You almost died on me and it actually terrified me," Steve admitted, "I was so angry I couldn't think straight that day and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I should have never put you down there. I shouldn't have starved you."

You were surprised at this. Why was he saying all this? There's no way that this man, this vicious murderous man, had a caring bone in his body. Yet your heart sped up, hoping he truly meant what he was saying. "There were so many other ways I could have punished you. You deserved more than to be locked down there, you earned your freedom. You've been so good to me and it was unwarranted. Next time I will keep your punishments up here where I can keep an eye on you." Steve continued.

Steve reached out, cupping one of your hands into his and kissing each knuckle gently before resting his forehead on your thigh. You used your free hand to card through his thick locks, wanting to comfort him. Despite everything, that's all you wanted, his approval and his comfort. Steve lifted his head, your hand drifting down to his cheek. He leaned into it, turning his head to place a kiss on your palm.

"You're not going to kill me?" You croaked out, still not believing it. Steve shook his head.

"No, I'm not going to kill you, doll. You're mine, you're not going anywhere," he stated, "Are you really pregnant?"

Watching for any flicker of anger, you slowly nodded. Steve’s face was a mask of awe and marvel and he leaned forward to kiss your tummy. Your whole body tensed up but relaxed as he reached up to stroke your face. He got up, gently pushing you aside, and climbed into bed, before pulling you to rest against him.

You snuggled into his warmth, your whole body content with the way he was pressed to you. Your emotions weren't normal, neither was your contentment. You were having a baby with a murderer. Yet as he ran his hand up and down your back, you held onto that sliver of hope that deep down in his black heart he felt something for you and that was enough for now.

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#dark!steve x reader #dark!steve x you #steve rogers x you #serial killer au #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #chris evans fanfiction

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sunaluvs · 3 years

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Someone that Loves You — HONNE

Cant wait to see what you come up with ~❤️

+ TAGS: gn!reader, angst, cheating, gory descriptions? kinda?, reader is toxic, shitty ending, unedited.

+ A/N: ahhh ngl i procrastinated on this bc this topic is kinda sensitive for me but uhh we're going out of comfort zones today i guess !! not really a 100% satisfied with this but i got tired of looking at the words so here it is nsbsnsvs also ty for the song lovely <33

the sun is bright and warm on atsumu’s skin when you make your choice.

he can feel the rays of light beat down on his back in the summer heat, droplets of sweat from both the weather and practice dripping and soaking through his shirt.

he can smell the crisp scent of air, fresh from last night’s rain shower, and mentally decides to thank the skies for providing him with the light breeze that makes the humidity all a little more tolerable.

or, actually, maybe he ought to curse it instead.

because right now, it’s making things a bit more difficult than it should be. he watches the wind brush through your hair, ruffling and messing about with the pretty strands. he watches as you sigh and run your fingers through them—in nervousness or annoyance, he can’t tell.

he watches as the sun burns bright behind you, and the heat drowns you in its touch, and maybe the warmth is getting to him, but he swears he can see a delicate halo of light curling around the crown of your head.

it’s definitely the heat, he thinks, because you’re no damn angel, not at all.

instead, he’d liken you to a devil.

a greedy one, maybe. one that loves and lives to simply take, even when it has more than enough for itself and is always at the threat of drowning in its own undeserved wealth.

a hungry little thing, always keeping its eyes open for the next person it finds interesting and good enough to steal, to keep and consume, to swallow down in full just to throw back up.

or maybe you're something more obscene, something that disregards morals and principles just to get its sticky, stained hands on the prettiest thing it can bite into.

and in its wake, teeth marks are always left behind, like some sick act of possession, a glaring sign that says this was mine. it tells of the havoc that was wreaked, of the sweet, saccharine release you'd tasted, one that never failed to wash away whatever fake guilt you may have initially felt.

or, perhaps it's simply the way you love. a twisted kind of love, where you rip into people's hearts and eat them whole, before leaving the body with a soft apology and a gentle smile.

"i'm not gonna meet up with you anymore."

he wonders what your boyfriend would do if he told him about the teasing smiles and nimble touches you'd leave behind on him, ones that turned rough and desperate when he made you cry out his name at night.

he wonders if you'd still have another lover to corrupt if he knew about the many nights you'd cancelled dates on him just to waste the hours away drinking and making out with the division league athlete.

would he leave you if atsumu told him he knew what your favorite chapstick tastes like on your lips?

"i love him."

no, he doesn't think you do.

you don't love someone and buy more concealers to hide marks they haven't given you. you don't love someone and lie about where you stayed the night and why you had to come home late. you don't love someone and kiss them goodbye before leaving to meet the other man you're sleeping with.

you don't love someone and hurt them over, and over, and over.

but then again—maybe that's the way you love. an awful, dreadful way of love that makes him want to scrub his skin till red seeps out and drown himself in ice just to quell the burning shame he can feel bubbling in his veins.

it makes him feel like something of a fool. perhaps he should've seen this coming.

he draws in a breath.

“okay.”

he lets it go.

(he missed doing that.)

the sun is bright and warm on atsumu’s skin when you make your choice.

and mentally, he decides to thank the skies for the light breeze he can finally start to breathe in.

#tw cheating #cw cheating #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst #atsumu angst #haikyuu drabbles #hq drabbles #atsumu drabble #hq imagines #haikyuu imagines #atsumu scenarios #atsumu imagines #q!#a.writes

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

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Would you do one for Brad based on his (the vamps’s) song Personal? I always love your take on friends to lover story, and I’d love to see your spin on it. Thank you so much!! ❤️❤️❤️

Personal

Pairing: Brad Simpson x Reader

Authors note: can you tell I’m a vamps stan with all the references 😌✨

“You all right?”

You craned your neck over your shoulder, a cool breeze going through your hair as you moved. A soft smile tugged at your lips when you saw Brad standing in the doorway of the sliding doors. He shut the door behind him before walking across the balcony and standing next to you.

“I’m fine. I just needed a break from the party.” You told him as you looked out at the London city scape.

“I know.” He chuckled. “You were never one for crowds.”

You kept your eyes down as you leaned on the railing, feeling a little shy around Brad after not seeing him for two months. The way you had left things definitely wasn’t helping either. Two months ago, the night before the boys left for their US tour, Brad kissed you after nearly a year of flirting underneath a streetlight. It was the kind of kiss that left you breathless and feeling like all your pieces had finally fallen into place. You thought the kiss meant you’d finally be together after wanting him for so long, but you were wrong. That was the last time you spoke to him, followed by a series of unanswered texts and dropped calls. Now he was back and you weren’t exactly mad at him, just indifferent.

“I prefer quieter settings. It’s more intimate.” You snuck a glance at him before returning your attention to the city.

“Like one on one?” Brad asked, moving a little closer to you. You gulped and hesitantly looked at him through your eyelashes.

“Yeah. Like one on one.”

A silence settled between the two of you, the only noise coming from the music of the party muffled by the sliding doors.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.” You said suddenly, and just a tad bitterly. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t shown up to the party just because you’d heard he’d be there. And you’d definitely be lying if you said you weren’t dying for him to see you and your new boyfriend after the way you left things.

“I know. God, how long has it been?” His voice was light hearted, but he wasn’t blind to the pained expression on your face.

“Two months.” You shook your head and gave him a sarcastic smile. “We have not spoken in two months.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Brads face faltered as he scratched the back of his neck. “We’ve been pretty busy with the tour.”

“Too busy for old friends?” You teased, not wanting to get into the past just yet. You had missed him, even if he left you wanting more last time you saw him.

“I’m never too busy for you.” He smiled shyly, brushing the hair that the wind had blown into your eyes out of the way.

“Oh, I’m not too sure about that.” You pursed your lips, his words unintentionally stinging a little. Brad looked guilty for a moment as he turned his head to the city.

“I, uh, I met your boyfriend.” He said slowly, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Did you?” You played dumb as if you hadn’t seen his eyes following you around all night, watching you dance with Jack.

“Real charmer.” Brad scrunched his nose. “Where’d you find him?”

“Our friends set us up.” You told him, watching him carefully for his reaction.

“Sorry about that, love. I think your friends might hate you.” Brad folded his arms and shrugged, eliciting a laugh from your lips.

“He’s a nice guy.” You narrowed your eyes at him to look tough, but even you didn’t believe your words. Jack had earned himself quite the reputation for being a womanizer, and you both knew you were just the next girl he was gonna run dry before he left broken hearted.

“I bet he is.” Brad scoffed. “Matter fact, he’s being real nice to that blonde over there. He’s was being even nicer with a brunette when I first walked in.”

Brad pointed to your boyfriend through the glass doors, carelessly flirting with another girl at a party you invited him to.

“Well they can’t all be keepers.” You said blandly, not even having the heart to care that he was putting his number in another girls phone.

“What was I?” Brad asked curiously, letting his jealousy get the better of him.

“I don’t know. What’s that saying? The one that got away?” You smiled sadly as you trailed your fingers along the railing.

“Something like that.” Brad said softly. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and looked at him, taking in how much he had changed since you last saw him. His hair was a little shaggier and he had the faintest whisper of a mustache, making him all the more alluring to you. You had to advert your eyes before he made you to nervous to speak.

“Yeah.” You swallowed thickly. “Something like that.”

Brad stepped closer to you, leaning on arm on the railing as he leaned in close enough that you could smell his cologne.

“I can’t tell you how much I missed you. I thought about you all the time.” He murmured. “Imagine my surprise to come home and find out you have a boyfriend.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, staring him right in his dark eyes as you carefully thought out your words.

“A lot can happen in two months. But at the same time,” you sighed loudly, “nothing can happen at all.”

“You and John-“

“Jack.” You corrected with a sly smile.

“You and Jack, is it serious?” Brad asked, keeping his eyes low as he hoped for a “no”.

“He’s the only one I’m seeing.” You avoided the question as best you could. You and Jack were less than a fling, but you didn’t want Brad to know that just yet. He had made you suffer, and you were just returning the favor.

“And you like this guy?” Brad questioned. “Like really like this guy?”

“I wouldn’t be dating him if I didn’t like him.” You lied, giving him a once over to really drive him over the edge. Brad rolled his eyes at you, shaking his head as he stared at the horizon.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “We all get lonely sometimes.”

“What’s your problem with me and Jack?” You folded your arms as you glared at him. “You don’t even know the guy.”

“Oh, I don’t have a problem. He just doesn’t seem like your type.” Brad said passively, sparking an angry fire in your tummy. You weren’t exactly head over heels for Jack, but Brad being dismissive of your relationship made you ignite with fury.

“You don’t know my type.” You said through gritted teeth. He always had a way of getting under your skin, but that was just one of the things that drew you to him.

“I know you don’t like jerks.” He quipped.

“You’d be surprised.” You laughed sarcastically. Brad, always up for trouble, stepped even closer to you so your chests were touching. He took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up towards his, making all your blood rush to your head.

“Hey, princess?”

“Yes?” You whispered.

“No offense, but I think your boyfriend is a bit of an ass.”

“Shut up. You don’t know him.” You grumbled.

“I know enough.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You deserve better.”

“Whatever that means.” You laughed sadly as you pulled away. Brad pulled you right back by the wrist, always keeping his touch gentle. You stumbled into his chest, blinking in surprise as he caught you by the waist.

“Don’t take this personal, I think you’d be better with someone else.” Brad mumbled into your ear, sending chills down your spine.

“Did you have someone in mind?” You spoke softly as you looked at him.

“I might.” He smirked. “I was thinking more along the lines of someone like me.”

“That seems pretty personal.”

“So let’s make it personal.” Brad whispered as his lips ghosted over yours. You were aching to kiss him, rising on your tip toes to get closer. You wanted to kiss him, to let him mend your broken wings, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“I can’t.” You pulled away. Brads eyes slowly opened, concrete disappointment in them as you ran your fingers through your hair. “I have a boyfriend. You know that.”

“Does he know that?” Brad laughed sadly as he glanced at Jack again, getting cozy with a redhead this time. Your eyes followed Brads and your heart sank when you saw your boyfriend wrapped up with another girl. You looked back at Brad and gave him a defeated shrug.

“Call me when you want something better.” Brad said, leaning forward and pressing a searing kiss to your cheek before returning to the party. You watched as he left, your eyes lingering long after he disappeared in the crowd.

A buzz from your phone took you out of your trance, your heart sinking when you saw it was from Jack. He was letting you know he was gonna be staying at a “friends” house that night, and you didn’t have it in yourself to care. The only thing occupying your mind was Brad Simpson and his stupid, stupid kiss. You were just about ready to forgive him for leaving you in the dark for two months and give him the benefit of the doubt that he had changed his mind. But now, now you were back to square one.

Now, he made it personal.

After a particularly nasty fight with Jack, you were looking to clear your head. As it turned out, the word “exclusive” hadn’t made its way to Jack’s just vocabulary yet. You blamed yourself for thinking he wasn’t seeing anyone else just because you weren’t, but it hurt just the same.

You heard a rumor Brad was still in town and followed that rumor to a party at James’s flat.

After not seeing him the first half hour you were there, you lost your nerve and retreated to the fire escape for some silence. It wasn’t long, however, before you gained some company.

“Well look who I found.”

A smile broke through on your face when you heard Brad’s voice from behind you. You turned around and walked towards him with your arms extended.

“Hey.” You mumbled as he wrapped you in a hug. You squeezed him tightly, finally healed by time and no longer bearing ill will towards him.

“Needed some air?” He asked as he pulled away from you, squeezing your shoulder endearingly as you walked towards the railing together.

“Yeah. Some air. Some space. Some quiet.” You nudged him teasingly, not realizing how much you missed your friend until now. You may be pining after him, but he was your friend above all.

“I heard about your boyfriend.” Brad said without looking at you. “Or, uh, ex boyfriend, I’m assuming?”

“No, we’re still together.” You admitted, making Brad’s face fall.

“Oh.” He nodded curtly, not bothering to hide his disappointment.

“What did I say?” You laughed sadly, feeling your own disappointment settle in. “They can’t all be keepers.”

“But they can be cheaters.” Brad mumbled under his breath. Your jaw dropped when you heard his comment, slapping him playfully on the arm.

“I’m sorry. I can leave if you want me to.” He offered, not wanting to impose if you wanted to be alone.

“No.” You shook your head like what he said was silly. “You can stay.”

“You don’t have to say that just to be nice.” He said a little sadly. You hadn’t spoken much since the last party and he didn’t know where he stood with you, especially not after the almost kiss. You gave him a sympathetic smile and rested your hand over his, brushing your thumb over his knuckles.

“Brad.” You said firmly. “I’m asking you to stay.”

A smile tugged at Brads lips before tightening into a tight, satisfied line.

“Okay.” He said smugly, pleased with himself for being someone you wanted to keep company with. “What’s the latest with you and Jared-“

“-Jack.” You cut in.

“-Jack, anyway. Trouble in paradise?” He finished and you shrugged, avoiding his gaze.

“I’m sick of the parties.” You said as you looked out at the view. “Tired of him dragging me around like some pathetic puppy on a leash.”

“I don’t know, love. I quite like puppies.” Brad tried to lighten the mood, succeeding in making you smile.

“He flaunts me. He doesn’t care for me, he flaunts me.” You shook your head. “Like I’m a new wrist watch he just bought.”

“You’re not a watch, darling.” Brad said softly, brown eyes boring into you.

“What am I?” You humored him. “A tennis bracelet? A diamond necklace?”

“A person.” He said, much to your surprise. “And you deserve to be treated as such.”

You looked at Brad longingly for a moment, feeling the invisible string tugging you towards him as you yearned to lean in and kiss him.

“I’m sick of my boyfriend.” You whispered, a stray tear running down your cheek.

“We have something in common, then.” Brad said as he wiped your tear with his thumb. “I’m sick of your boyfriend too.”

You leaned in to Brads touch, missing the warmth of another human. Especially this human being in particular.

“I’m sick and tired of my heart sinking every time he texts me. I’m sick and tired of all the passive aggressive acts of spite. I’m sick and tired of the cheating and the lying and the fighting.” Your face contorted in pain as you spoke. “I am sick and tired of being sick and tired.”

“Well I’m sick and tired of being friends.” Brad said bluntly. “I’m sick and tired of watching a man take for granted what he has. I’m sick and tired of watching you be sick and tired.”

You held Brad’s gaze as you brought your hand to his wrist, his palm still resting on your face. You smiled briefly as he told you all the things you wanted to hear, but it disappeared just as soon as it appeared.

“You didn’t text me when you landed.” You said as if you just realized it when in reality, you’d been dwelling in it the last two months. You took his hand off your face and took a step back, turning your body slightly as you collected yourself.

“What?”

You walked a few paces away, taking a deep breath of the crisp London air as you kept your back to him.

“You said you would. And when I didn’t hear from you, I figured you were waiting to get to the hotel to tell me you got there safely.” You smiled sadly as you looked at him over your shoulder. “You didn’t do that either.”

“Is this about LA?” He asked in confusion.

“I didn’t hear from you for two months.” You said out loud for the first time, hurt evident in your features. “You finally kissed me after all that pining and I didn’t hear from you for two months.” Your voice came out confused, like you didn’t understand what you were saying.

“I’m sorry.” He said sincerely. “The boys were teasing me and you know how personal I take things. They were saying I was whipped or I’d gone soft and I wanted to prove them wrong.”

“And by doing so, you lost me.” You laughed humorlessly as you folded your arms.

“Love-“

“I wasn’t gonna wait around forever for you to call me.” You shrugged. “Jack made a move on me and I let him. Don’t be mad that someone else could see what you couldn’t.”

“But he doesn’t see it.” Brad said gravely. “He has the most amazing woman in the world and he can’t be bothered to appreciate her.”

“At least he doesn’t kiss me and not call for two months.” You spat.

“I’m sorry about that. I really am.” Brad took your hands in his in a desperate plea to get you to listen. “But is that really what you want? A guy who can call you on the phone but can’t make you smile for the life of him?”

“What I wanted was you.” You yanked your hands out of his. “But you weren’t ready to commit.”

“I am now.” He swore. “I know better now.”

“Prove it.” You stepped up to him. “Show me you know better.”

Brad responding to your challenge by grabbing your face and pulling you into a heated kiss. Unlike anything you thought possible, it was even better than the first time. He pulled your waist flush against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Brad held your face as he began to pepper kisses down your jaw, each one burning more than the last. He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away and taking out his phone. You watching in confusion as he dialed a number and held it to his ear, getting even more confused when you heard your own phone ring. You held eye contact as you took your phone out of your pocket and pressed it to your ear.

“Hello?” You answered with a raised eyebrow.

“I really like you, love.” Brad said into the phone, seeming just as on time as it was late.

“Who is this?” You smiled coyly, understand what he was doing. He was rewriting the past, calling you after kissing you.

“It’s Brad.” He answered. “I have a problem and I think you might be able to help me with it.”

“What’s the problem?” You wondered, resting your free hand on his chest.

“You see, I’ve fallen in love with you but I was so scared of losing you that I panicked and ruined things before they could even start.” Brad confessed. You bit your lip and looked at him sympathetically as you put your phone away.

“I didn’t know that.” You said quietly as he lowered his own phone.

“I thought if I broke your heart now, you couldn’t break mine later.” He admitted shamefully. “It was a dumb way to think and an even dumber thing to do. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“I think you just did.” You smiled softly at him, tangling your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck.

“If you give me a chance, a second chance because I personally was an idiot the first time, I can promise you you will not regret it.” Brad attested. “I’ll set your darkest night alive. I’ll be different this time, I swear.”

“I believe you.” You nodded and pulled him into a hug, resting your head on his shoulder. “I believe you.”

#brad simpson x you #brad simpson x reader #brad simpson fanfiction #brad simpson #the vamps x you #married in vegas #vamps fanfiction #the vamps

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