#I am so gone I can’t handle him

[daddy-long-legssss]

#LOOK ATHE FUCKING SHOULDER BITCH #IM LOSING MY MIND RN #I SAW THAT VIDEO AND HAD TO PAUSE #I am so gone I can’t handle him #I really can’t #the shape is obscene #unnecessary horniness 15 yards 🫱 #miles kane #omb tour

[eddiesxangel]

Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader

TJ’s 2K Request celebration!

@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”

Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers

WC: 3.1k

I hope you enjoy!! 💗

“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”

A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.

You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.

“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.

“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.

“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.

“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.

You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.

“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.

You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.

“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.

Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.

You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.

Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”

You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.

“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.

Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?

That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.

“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”

“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.

“I just think— "

"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.

"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."

“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.

"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.

"Yes, you do."

"When have— "

"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"

"Sweetheart I—"

"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."

"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I don’t want to."

"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.

You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.

“Woah, see my point exactly.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.

Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.

The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.

Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.

You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.

That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.

“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”

“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.

Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.

So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.

You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.

You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.

Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.

You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.

After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.

You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.

“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”

You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry, Angel”

Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.

“I didn’t know you stayed?”

“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”

“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.

“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.

“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.

“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”

You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.

Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.

“Oh god”

“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.

“You said it was demeaning…”

“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.

“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.

“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.

“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.

“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.

“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”

Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?

“You do?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.

“Oh?” You were in shock.

“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.

“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.

“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”

“Kiss me.”

Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.

You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.

You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.

No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.

Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?

“I think we should slow down.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"

"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.

"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."

"Okay, Eddie."

Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.

You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.

Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.

hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.

"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"

“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.

Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.

Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.

“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.

“Can I taste you?”

“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.

Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.

“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”

“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.

Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.

“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.

“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.

“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”

“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.

“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.

You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.

“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.

“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.

Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.

Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.

When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.

Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.

You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.

When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.

You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.

The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.

“I want you,” you repeat yourself.

Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.

You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.

“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.

“Yes.”

He quickly got up and you moaned,

“What are you?- oh,” you blush

You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.

Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?

“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.

Cocky, shit.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.

“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.

“I have my toys.”

Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”

“Finally”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.

“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.

“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.

“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”

That made your pussy clench down again.

“Oh, you like that?”

You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.

“Noted”

You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.

“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.

You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.

“Harder”

“You sure”

“Yes, god yes!”

Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.

“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.

Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.

"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.

A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.

The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.

"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."

Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.

Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.

With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.

"That good, huh?"

"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.

"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.

"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.

"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "

Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites

@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv

#Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson x female reader #Eddie Munson x virgin!reader #Eddie Munson imagine

[lovebugism]

#20 from the jealousy, jealousy prompt list with steve pls 🫶🏼

steve doesn't realize he's in love with you until he gets a glimpse of you with someone else (fwb to lovers, fluff, 1.2k)

Steve Harrington spent the entire summer thinking he was the only one who thought your Scoops Ahoy uniform was way hotter than should be allowed. 

The thigh-high socks. The short skirt. The pretty ascot tied around your neck. It was a diabolical concoction. And, yeah, sure, the sailor theme was an acquired taste, but Steve has always been a firm believer that you could wear anything and make him fall to his knees. He’d worship you like a goddess in a goddamn parka, he’s that far gone for you.

The only problem is he thought he was the only one.

He loved you so much that everything else just became white noise. There was never any room for anyone else to love you ‘cause he adored you the most. Or he thought so, at least — until a pretty boy with circle glasses and a chiseled jawline talked you up at the front counter. For ten fucking minutes straight.

He watches the stranger cross the threshold of Scoops, with a sundae in his hand and a dumb smile on his stupid face. “Who was the guy?” Steve blurts from the opened partition the second he’s gone. He folds his golden arms over the countertop, biceps threatening to burst from the navy sleeves of his uniform.

“A friend,” you answer casually as you sort change in the register.

His fluffy brows pinch then relax a moment later. He pouts at the vague response because he can’t handle not knowing. “Seems like you two are real close,” he lilts, trying hopelessly to play it cool.

“We are, actually,” you tell him. You drop the remaining quarters into their designated section and flash him a pretty look over your shoulder. “I’ve known him since I was a teenager— sophomore year, I think?”

Steve nods slowly, feigning interest. “Ah. High school sweethearts, then?”

You slide the opened register closed with your hip. It clunks shut behind you as you spin around to face him. You walk the short distance to the back counter, skirt swishing around your thighs as you go. Steve tries hard not to pull away when you lean in towards him, choosing to bask in your unwavering stare and intoxicating perfume instead.

“You should watch what you say, Harrington,” you caution lowly. “I’m gonna start to think you’re jealous.”

He scoffs. “I am not jealous.”

“No?”

“No! No way,” he answers, too quickly to be convincing. “We’re— We said we were gonna do the whole unlabelled thing, so… That’s what we’re doing.”

You nod once. “Great,” you hum with a tightlipped smile, spinning away once more.

The door to the breakroom squeaks open a moment later. Steve lingers in the entryway, shifting on his feet like a nervous child in a sailor’s uniform. Crossing his arms over his chest, he peers at you through his lashes. 

“But it wouldn’t be, like, the worst thing in the world if I said I wanted to be the only one who, you know, looks into your eyes, and… holds your hands, and… hears you laugh…” he wonders lowly, scrunching the bridge of his nose. “Right?”

You don’t realize how big you’re smiling when you look back at him. “No,” you shrug, all cool despite your skipping heart. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“Good,” Steve grins.

The small of your back digs into the counter’s edge when you turn to face him. You meet his pretty face with a sheepish one. “But it does go against everything we talked about it.”

The boy shrugs. “Well, then, screw it,” he blurts. 

“What?”

“I take it back.”

You laugh before you mean to. The golden sound echoes through the empty store. “That quickly?”

“Hush,” he pouts.

“It took me talking to some guy — who might as well be a stranger to me now, by the way — to change your mind about wanting to date me?” you elaborate with narrowed eyes.

Steve cowers under your stare. “…Kinda. Yeah.”

“So, what?” you scoff. “We’re boyfriend-girlfriend now?”

“If you wanna be.”

You grin up at him while he approaches you, all slow like he’s stalking prey — only you don’t entirely mind being hunted. “Pretty soon, we’ll be playing house if we’re not careful,” you joke, smoothing your palms up his torso.

A crooked grin blossoms on his pink mouth at the thought. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually,” he mumbles lowly.

“Steve…” you huff.

He laughs and cradles your jaw between softly calloused palms. “What?” he hums as he ducks down to kiss you. Your lips lock in a fleeting kiss — an innocuous spearmint-strawberry-chapstick concoction.

You let him kiss you, but your pout never wavers. “You can’t just say something like that and expect me to move on,” you murmur.

“I like you?” he shrugs. “So what?”

“So what?” you parrot with a laugh. “We’re not kids anymore, you know? Relationships are pretty serious now, Steve.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

You meet his doe-eyed look with a sterner glare. “That’s the problem. That’s why we agreed to keep things lowkey. ‘Cause you can’t be serious about anything.”

“I can’t be serious about some things,” Steve insists with a boyish twist to his scruffy features. You arch your brow to egg him on. “Well, you, for starters— I haven’t even looked at anyone since I started seeing you, so… That’s gotta be a start, right?”

Your brows scrunch softly together. You don’t mean to look as shocked as you do, but you can’t help it. “You haven’t?”

“No,” he answers, chiseled features swirled like he’s tasted something sour. The thought never even crossed his mind despite distinctly keeping your relationship (or lack thereof, maybe) completely casual. “Have you?”

“No! I just… I thought that maybe you were, you know, keeping your options open or whatever.”

“So that means you’re not canoodling with Mister Jawline, right?” he jokes with a hopeful glint in his honeyed gaze.

You roll your eyes but decide to humor him anyway. “No, Steve,” you deadpan. 

He grins, prettier than should be allowed. “Good.”

You squint up at him. “Which means you’re not canoodling with Miss Redhead-Nice-Boobs, who comes in every week just to talk to you. Right?”

Steve’s brows furrow. His dark eyes flit between both of yours as he tries to figure out who exactly you’re referring to. “Who?” he wonders with a cartoonish lilt to his voice.

You’re pout deepens ‘cause you don’t know what he’s playing at. Her name’s Cherry — which you think is pretty easy to remember, considering her fiery auburn curls and ruby red lipstick. She’s tall and lean and effortlessly beautiful. Too pretty to be jealous of. You can’t help but admire her.

So Steve’s confusion is equally dumbfounding.

“You do like me, don’t you?” you murmur with a suspicious squint.

He laughs. “Does that surprise you?”

“A little bit. Yeah.”

His nose scrunches. “Still wanna be boyfriend-girlfriend with me, though?”

You purse your lips to the side and pretend to ponder the question “Sure,” you shrug after a few moments, rising to the tips of your toes to smack a quick kiss to his mouth. 

You greet a group of customers a second later, while Steve restocks the tubs of ice cream. Totally casual. Not at all lovesick.

Well… maybe a little.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

[cosmos-coma]

My Sun, My Star

A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

Words: 6756

Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??

Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!

________________

Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat. 

You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.

“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him. 

“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup. 

“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.” 

You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.  

‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’  you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send. 

“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held. 

“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.

Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner. 

----

Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation. 

“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?” 

“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again. 

“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.

“SAM.” 

“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”

No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.

He should’ve listened. 

It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried. 

“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.  

“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms. 

“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet. 

They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten. 

He should have listened. 

Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung. 

At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn. 

“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake. 

“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over. 

Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.  

“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”

Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him. 

“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.” 

Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be. 

But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.

“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.

The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click. 

As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.

“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend. 

However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.

---

The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead. 

His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.

The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence. 

The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.

With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door. 

His door.

Your door.

The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.

A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?

“Hmmph”  

His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached. 

The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise. 

His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.  

“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.

Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour. 

With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently. 

“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.

His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.

His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question. 

A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.

“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.

 You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.

So much for that

Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.

Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away. 

With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more. 

Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal. 

Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body. 

But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin. 

His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning? 

“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.

“Красивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высокая, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him. 

“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better. 

“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.

A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.

His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin. 

“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.

But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission. 

Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not. 

“Oh. I-” 

CRASH.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere. 

Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on. 

Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?

“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands. 

“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.

You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, 

His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way. 

He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you. 

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”

Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room. 

“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden- 

BANG.

“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet. 

You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways. 

Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid. 

You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again. 

“No…!”

A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air. 

Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.

“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team. 

“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.

“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again. 

“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”

“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.

“Sol-”

“Мое солнце  [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive. 

“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive. 

“I can’t do this without you…” 

The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place. 

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.” 

A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].” 

You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague. 

Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s get you two to the tower…” 

----

The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab. 

Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.

“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work. 

“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly. 

You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.

"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.

“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.

You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.

He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.

He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?

"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.

But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."

Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."

The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.

Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.

A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.

"Yes?"

“Is it time…?”

You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.

You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.

He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?” 

Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.

 It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss. 

But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….” 

-----

You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head. 

“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…” 

“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”

You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.

Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye. 

Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well. 

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.

“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.

He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began. 

You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry. 

“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”

_____________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)

It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!

#bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james barnes x reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x Y/n #James buchanan barnes x Reader #winter soldier!bucky x reader #winter solider x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x y/n #Winter soldier!Bucky x you #bucky barnes

[evergreenfields]

A Helping Hand

Captain Price uses his deft fingers to help you take out your menstrual cup.

Pairing: Captain Price x Female Reader

CW: descriptions of female anatomy, digital penetration, fluff, swearing. MDNI.

Words: 2.7k

—

You didn't mean to swear so loudly in the toilet cubicle but you were sweating, your hands were hurting and your thighs were burning.

You could not, for the life of you, take out your menstrual cup.

After a gruelling CQC training session, your hands were cramped and now slick with blood. You surprised yourself at how far you could fit your fingers inside yourself without even reaching the inch long handle of the cup.

"Sergeant?" A gruff voice called through the door.

"Fuck." you whisper, "yes sir?" You call back, sitting back down on the toilet in defeat, staring at the tiled floor.

"Everything alright in there?" Captain Price is closer to the door now. Of all the people! You thought of him in his far-too-fitted top tucked into his far-too-snug combat trousers, all pressed and neat. Earlier in the day he had patted your shoulder for a job well done and you hated how you could still feel his eyes on you after you walked away.

“Yes captain, all good here." Ending it abruptly, you wait for him to leave.

Getting back into a squat position, you try again. You swear again.

Another knock at the door.

"Sergeant. Do I need to call someone for you?" Concern laced his gruff voice.

Something in you falters. You think it's stupidity, you think it's the opposite of courage, you consider it vulnerability. Either way, your mouth and mind move in different directions as you pull your trousers up, wash your hands and walk the short way to the door.

“Have you seen a period cup before?" you say quietly through a small gap in the doorway, looking past your Captain at passers by, looking anywhere but at his deep-set blue eyes.

He looks at you with knitted brows and answers "no. But I'm guessing it's not coming out." He enunciated ‘out’ with his trademark back stretch.

"Precisely." You get redder and try to quell it. He knocked, he asked, maybe someone else could help me, a female medic, but the thought of gloved hands felt clinical and made you tense. The pause was palpable.

"Right, let's get you to your quarters," he steps back from the door, straight as a board, and you slip out past his hulking frame.

Filling what you thought was an awkward silence you said you had training with Simon and “it's not usually this difficult, usually it pops out easily." Accidentally making eye contact on the “pop.”

"Right." Price says and you think you saw him swallow a smile. You arrive at your quarters and open the door.

"A nurse once told me I had a high cervix, so who knows where it's gone." You turn to close the door behind Price and you're surprised to see him chuckling, the movement in his broad shoulders and the crows feet around his eyes make you feel a way you know you shouldn't.

"Give it another go, I'll get a tea brewing," he strides past you into your tiny kitchen, knocking around your cupboards for teabags.

You avoid your gaze in the bathroom mirror as you wash your hands again and pull your trousers down, rooting around for the damned silicone cup. You were naturally more dilated as you were on your period, but pushing down with your pelvic floor muscles still didn’t get it within reach of your fingers.

You can hear the kettle going, you imagine him leaning against the counter, muscled legs crossed at his calves, calloused hands on the fake marble top.

John asks himself unanswerable questions, the exact kind of questions he hates. Why am I here? He has an inkling of the answer but it’s not absolute. He can’t deny you’re electric, an excellent squad mate and charming to boot. The chemistry is palpable between you and he knows exactly what he’s doing when he banters with you at post-mission briefings and winks at you when handing you a drink at the pub. He indulges in the flashes of recognition when he sees you around base, especially when you’re in civilian clothing.

Minutes later you're back in your kitchen, which Price manages to dwarf.

"No luck?" He says as he passes you the steaming cup, handle first. How polite.

"No luck.”

“No problem." Price says in his husky voice, taking a seat on your small sofa. He's taken his hat off, he's basically naked now. You join him on the furthest end, you're both turned half towards each other, your crossed legs are mighty close to touching his.

"Sorry, this is really awkward."

“Nothing awkward, relax yeh." He sips his tea.

"You make a shit tea." You say absolutely unprompted, staring into your cup seriously.

Price doesn't respond and you look up expectedly.

“Funny that, I couldn't find a good cup." He says with his usual dry gruff.

A beat.

You both burst into laughter, almost spilling your tea. You end up having to put it onto the table, calling him a prick in the process.

"Fuck sakes sir!"

"I had to." He continues drinking his tea, too cool for school as you settle yourself.

You decide to regale him as a way to fill the silence again, "so the cup has a stick at the end but I can't grip it, I can barely reach it. It's silicone and around an inch long." you instinctively measure it out with your thumb and index finger.

"Right."

He's killing you. You remember he's a gentleman, a professional, helping you feel more relaxed and less tense.

“It’s more than just grabbing and pulling it though-”

"So I'm going to have to break the suction first." He finally says, a mercy.

You did a double take and accidentally looked at his gloved hand. It hangs over his knee. You know they are heavily veined and strong, you want to evaporate at the thought of them touching you in such an intimate place.

"It doesn't take much.” You say dry mouthed.

"I can get someone else." Is quickly followed by you breathing "I'd rather you didn't."

Next thing you know, you're standing in your shower with only a towel wrapped around your lower half. Your captain was seated on the rim of the bathtub. It was as if you had a tipple of whiskey instead of tea, you felt drunk, giddy, nervous. There was an undeniable pulse in your clit you were trying to ignore. Price thoroughly washes his hands and you make an effort to not watch his sinewy forearms flexing.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna be laying down?” Price asks earnestly.

“No it would feel too clinical. And we need gravity on our side.” You say absentmindedly, he nods an affirmative.

“Understood.“

"I'm going to look like Winnie the fucking Pooh.” You sigh.

"Ey?" blue eyes flicker at your eyes.

"He doesn't wear any trousers. He just wears a top."

"Stop being a muppet." He dries his hands.

“Okay so you'll have to use a thumb and finger." You say, feeling flushed as you place your feet further apart, they were wet with the residual water from your shower earlier in the day.

"I’ll be gentle." He puts the hand towel under your feet for grip. You almost place your hand on his shoulder to balance yourself but you're too afraid to let go of the towel.

"Better?" He asks. You nod. His back straightens, he's in serious mode, “if it hurts at any point, say and I'II stop immediately." And he waits for your affirmative and more disgustingly, your eye contact.

"Yes sir. I will.” You nod, blink and then look away.

A pause. Silence.

You're still holding the towel over yourself. You feel like a lost lamb and you even start to hate yourself for feeling so shy. You wonder how Price is so calm and collected, you’re trying to see from his perspective but you can’t fathom how he’s so blase and annoyingly professional.

In a measured movement you remove the towel and swing it over the curtain rail. Everything feels red, you feel a flash of anger at yourself for existing. You look up past him. Blood rushes to your face and ears. Cool air hits your legs and butt. John carries on with acute focus, mentally noting you had incredible legs. He wished he was still wearing his hat so you couldn’t see the sweat bead on his forehead.

“Put your hands on my shoulders." He says, “and relax." He drawls, admittedly more to himself. “Alright I'm going to make-"

"Don't say make entry, for fuck sakes." Your voice sounds distant with the acoustics of the tiled bathroom.

"I was going to say make contact, sergeant." His tone is clipped but his eyes smile. You sheepishly look away.

“I’ve tried a few times, it’s quite… elastic, so don’t be worried if you go past the knuckles.” You chew your lips.

“I’ll be gentle.” He reiterates. You assume he knows his way around things, a fleeting thought of him with other women floats through your mind.

John knew you trusted him which is why he was here. He was very aware of what he was helping with and felt it was beyond his duty of care, kind of like how he has to decide who lives and who dies when they’re attached to a bomb vest with 8 seconds left. It was discretionary. He put it out of his mind and considered this a ‘removal of foreign body’. But with no need to staunch the bleeding. And no need to report it in the injuries log. The only thing he was staunching were any feelings towards you. Tucking them deep away like a professional, or like a pressure cooker. There was a reason he was the captain, he was measured and controlled.

With the softest touch, you feel his index finger and middle finger part your folds and fall into the valley of your hole. His fingers deftly dodged your hardened clit and he slipped in gently until he’s fully inside of you. His finger runs along your gummy walls, they are much thicker than your own digits. You scrunch your eyebrows. He’s warm and tentative. Your face is flushed red, but not entirely from embarrassment, it’s that familiar feeling you get when you’re filled. Heat rises from you. Your breathing is shallow and quick.

His left hand leaves the tub edge and holds your calf softly. You feel safety in his touch, you feel like he's entering with trepidation. You've fought on battlefields together, traversed through tight streets in war torn villages and travelled for days in cramped trucks, you trusted him with your life and by extension your body. It was as if it was all to culminate in your bathroom. You find yourself wishing you had just asked him for a coffee a week ago when you weren't on your period.

"Is that okay? Ready for the-"

"Yes sir." He pushes his thumb in gently too. You feel it breach your cunt and against your spongy walls. You can’t tell but John’s heart is hammering against his chest, but it doesn’t betray his breathing.

"You don't have to call me sir.” He mumbles.

"Yes sir.” You hold his broad shoulders and lean over him, looking straight ahead at the cheap wooden door. His fingers gently move up into you, he’s warm and you’re hot, you try to stay still and not squeeze your walls around his fingers.

You hear his breathing, it’s even. You want to look down at his lap but your line of sight is obscured by his arm, you know what you want to see and you swallow. His fingers move, you can feel the pressure but you can only guess at the direction. You feel the large knuckle of his thumb press against your innermost folds. His ring and little finger push into the underside of your butt cheek, you realise you did the same thing to yourself when you were trying earlier. There was no where else those fingers could go without being in the way.

John tries to ignore how your body feels around his fingers and focuses on pushing in with the least resistance, he has big hands so there was no doubt he’d be able to find it but he didn’t want to hurt you. Sweat forms along the back of his neck. Steady now.

"Try to relax. I know this isn’t ideal, I'll go slowly" He says, you can smell his cologne, his musk, you hold your breath but he feels that too.

"Breathe and bear down." You daren't comment about how he knows about "bearing down" but you push down with your pelvic muscles.

"I’ve got it, gonna go further to grip it." You dare to look at his face and you're surprised to see he's not looking at your mound, he's staring at your rucked up top, just above your belly button; he's concentrating. He looks adorable, mouth a little open.

"It’s a slippery bastard." He chuckles and then reels the laugh in.

"I'm so sorry about the blood." You whisper above him. He just grunts.

"Nothing we haven't dealt with before, ey?" His eyes crinkle into a smile. “Can I go further?" He says, you look at each other and you nod. You feel pressure and friction, you try to breathe and it comes shakily. You clear your throat.

"It's not hurting is it?" He stops.

"No, it doesn't hurt, it's just this entire situation-"

"Look, I know you'd do the same for me." He meets your eyes and you snort, trying not to laugh. You instead lean your forehead down to the top of his head for a moment, he can see your stomach move and your breathing change as you laugh silently. It’s strangely intimate.

John swallows.

"I got it." You feel pressure push upwards into you and then the suction disappears. With a pull and a slick pop, the cup comes out. Your body feels doubly empty. Price holds it steady with one hand, he marvels at the amount and viscosity of the blood. He then brings his other hand up to cradle it. You add both your hands around his to stop it spilling.

"Y'alright?" He carefully lets go of the cup. His left hand is on your arm, his intense blue eyes boring into yours for what feels like way too long.

"Yes." You smile.

"Right, I'II let you get that sorted.” He smiles, squeezes your arm and turns to use the faucet.

With his broad back turned, you look down at your naked lower body and bloody chalice. You see that he doesn't turn to look back at you. Such a gentleman. You cheers him silently with the cup and get to sorting yourself out.

When John leaves the room, he exhales hard. Needing something to do, he immediately walks into your kitchen. He hates that he’s clammy and not from exertion. He pushes your warmth and wetness from his mind, but he knows he’ll be summoning the memory soon, when he’s alone.

When you step out of the shower, you're in a daze. You don't know what to say when you get dressed and return to your living room. Thanks and sorry? Sorry and sorry? Let's never speak of this, but can we talk about your unwavering eye contact and those touches? You pull on your knickers and cargo trousers and wrestle with a sanitary pad.

You return to see him washing the tea cups, his gloves tucked into his back pocket, his narrow waist fanning into a broad back.

You jog into the kitchen and grab the tea towel he's hung over his shoulder.

“I got it - thank you,” you say, quickly adding “John.” As if to point out the power dynamic was left at the door. You dry the cups. You feel longing, you don't know what possesses you, you didn't want those fleeting touches, gentle words of affirmation and smouldering eye contact to evaporate into nothing. Like they usually do.

“Don’t mention it.” He says, heading for the door.

“Not even to my girl friends?” You snap back, shrugging the tea towel over your shoulder.

“Wind your neck in!” He laughs loudly from the chest.

“Consider it wound in, sir.”

“The lengths you go for my attention.” He retorts with his trademark grin, turning to face you with his hand on the door handle.

“The lengths are apparently 3 or 4 inches, sir, give or take.” You laugh back knowingly.

John pauses.

“Between us, that’s only the half of it.” He says with a wink. And with that, he leaves. Your laugh gets caught in your throat, you’re left with a feeling your next one-to-one with your captain would be a little different moving forward.

#captain price x female reader #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #cod fanfic #john price x female reader #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price x you

[hs-is-loml]

You Know This. (cl16)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x best friend!Reader

Summary: moments of charles and reader throughout the years that show they are so obviously meant for each other so carlos gives them a small push. (they are basically together but without the title...)

Warnings: mentions of Jules and Hervé so little angst but the majority is fluff! one kiss? lando swears. cute couple moments of two idiots UNEDITED

a/n: almost forgot how to write compared to the social media AUs i've been doing... hope you enjoy :)

all translations of french below

Chérie = darling

masterlist

19 years old

You stared out the window overlooking the streets of Baku until you heard a sigh from across the room.

“I’m so tired. Is it even worth going through this weekend?” Charles admitted as you looked over to him running his hands over his face while he took a seat on the edge of the hotel bed. “I don’t know if I’ll make it through.”

“No one will blame you if you don’t,” you said walking over to stand in front of him. 

“That’s what they all expect isn’t it?” 

“You’re doing more than enough just being here,” you brought your hands to his face and gently rubbed your thumb along his jaw. 

“I miss him, Y/n. How am I supposed to continue without him?” he whispered while he wrapped his arms around your frame and pulled you closer to lean his head against your stomach. 

You could tell that he had finally reached a breaking point from holding out on his own emotions as he helped everyone in the family with theirs. You knew that he was staying strong for Pascale and Arthur while Lorenzo was handling everything for Hervé’s funeral. When he asked you to accompany him for this race, you said yes without any doubts crossing your mind.   

You soon feel his shoulders shake as he lets out soft sobs. “You continue for him. Just like you have done for Jules, they’re going to watch your legacy grow together. One day you’ll be driving in that red car placing poles and winning races. You will make it through this,” you played with the hair at the nape of his neck as you reassured him.

You were aware that he had told Hervé a few weeks ago that he had signed with Ferrari already. In the past few years, it had always been the goal. Everyone understood how crucial it was for him to make that come true.

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“I know, but I believe in you. We all do. It’s only a matter of time.”

“What would I do without you?” he lifted up his head to look at you.

“Well, it’s a good thing I never plan on leaving you,” you leaned down to press a gentle kiss on the crown of his head. 

"I'll never let you go."

20 years old

You were talking with Andrea and Lorenzo near the Alfa Romeo motorhome while you all waited for Charles to finish with media day. “How do you think he’s doing with the news?” you anxiously looked around in the hope of seeing him heading your way. “The media has gone wild when the contact got out that he signed with Ferrari.”

“Probably basking in the attention,” Lorenzo laughed. “You know how long he’s waited for this.”

“That boy never fails to catch the camera either,” Andrea added while you covered your mouth with your hand trying to stifle your laugh when you realized that Charles was finally done for the day. 

Charles came to your side snaking an arm around your waist and teasingly poked you, “What are you three laughing about you?” 

“You,” all of you replied, causing him to gasp in fake annoyance. 

“I know ma chérie would never do such a thing,” he shook his head at the two men. “Enzo, look how bad of an influence you are.” Which was Andrea’s queue to quietly leave before he was targeted by the young driver too. He took Lorenzo along with him as the older brother gaped at the accusation. 

You both started to head to his driver’s room to gather his things before driving back to the hotel. “How was it?” you asked him while you took out his phone from your purse.

“A lot. It feels like it’s never ending and everyone keeps congratulating,” he smiled and reached out for the phone. 

“I’ve only heard of all the good things so far,” you tell him and hand the phone back to him. 

You had begun to look for your jacket, and it was almost as if he had read your mind, “It’s right here, I’ve got it.”

As you two walked out of the paddock, there were still crowds of fans and photographers lingering around the area hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the drivers. People started to whisper and squeal when they saw Charles place his hat on your head allowing you to shield your face from the now flashing cameras. 

“Who is she?”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!”

“They must be dating.” 

“Charles! Over here!”

“Can you sign this for me please!”

You listened to all the hollers from the crowd as you got into the car, “Wow.”

“You okay?” Charles softly asked and glanced at you before starting to drive back to the hotel.

“Were they always like that while you were in F2 and I’ve never noticed?” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“I’m not sure,” he chuckled at your reaction. 

21 years old

“He has one more corner!” you held onto Andrea’s arm anxiously looking at the screen.

“MERCEDES THREW EVERYTHING AT HIM TODAY… CHARLES LECLERC HAS COPED BRILLIANTLY!” you heard from the speakers.

“HE’S GOT IT!” one of the crew members screamed when they saw Charles shoot down to the line.

���HE WINS IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA! CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2019 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX!” David Croft announced as Charles crossed the finish line. He had just won in Monza in front of the infamous Tifosi. 

You felt yourself get pushed to the front of the barrier as people started rushing to see the winner. The momentous scene couldn’t have been better. He had just ended the nine-year winless streak in Monza and scored his second consecutive race win. All you could hear in the hectic moment was the Ferrari crew chanting out in Italian for Charles. The crowds of fans roared out in cheers and the stands filled with raised Ferrari and Italian flags. 

You will never forget the moment he jumped down from on top of his car and made his way over to you. His hands found your sides as you held the sides of his helmet. “You did it,” your smile wide and eyes filled with tears as you focused on him. 

“For them,” he told you tenderly.

“For them,” you repeated and placed a kiss right where you thought the corner of his mouth would have been. The crew reached over to congratulate him, and the cameras were pointed directly at him wanting to capture the moment. 

The podium ceremony was scintillating. The crew, media, and Tifosi all packed in to see their winner. Andrea knew to keep you close to the front knowing that Charles would want to see you more than anyone else. It wasn’t only you looking up at him in admiration though it seemed like the world stopped for a moment when he blew a kiss back down to you from the podium.

Your cheeks flushed from the action and beamed as you met his eyes, “I love you,” you mouthed to him hoping he could read your lips from the stand. 

“I love you,” he replied back.  

22 years old

With COVID delaying the F1 season and everyone having to quarantine. You and Charles had decided to move in together into his apartment to keep each other company. It wasn’t hard to fall into a routine for you two. 

“Y/n! Can you bring me water please?” you heard a yell from Charles’ gaming room.

You got up from the couch and set aside your book heading into the kitchen. Decided to bring him a small pack of crackers as well along with the water since he had been on stream for a while. You brought the plate to him which he thanked you for and gave your hand three small squeezes. 

The simple interaction caused the chat to make tons of new comments flow through regarding you. Over the past few years, you found yourself more comfortable with your life in front of the camera because of his career, and it makes you look back to the times of Charles’ first year in F1. You could now give a small wave to the camera before you planned to head back out to the door.

“That’s not fair,” you heard Lando complain from the screen, causing you to halt in your footsteps to listen closely. “You have Y/n to bring you stuff, and you don’t even need to stop the game.”

“Lando’s just jealous he doesn’t have anybody,” George snickered.

“Damn right, I am,” Lando huffed out. “I want a Y/n.”

Charles noticed you silently laughing and he motioned for you to come back over wanting to tease Lando a bit more. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer to be in the frame, “Too bad there’s only one of her.”

Lando started muttering about how it was not his fault that he was alone during these times all while you shook your head at their antics. Alex and George continued the jokes creating a newfound argument that moved the topic away from you and Charles. “What do you want for dinner?” you questioned him softly not wanting to disrupt the chaotic banter from the others.

“Will you make carbonara?”

“DID YOU HEAR THAT??” Lando pointed to the screen baffled. “SHE EVEN COOKS DINNER FOR HIM! WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN? Y/N, WILL YOU COOK FOR ME NEXT TIME?”

“Sure, Lando. Once quarantine ends we can plan something out,” you replied with a sweet smile towards the camera.

“YES!” he cheered out at your response.

“Once we get back to racing, will you bring your cookies again?” George asked excitedly.

“Or the muffins!” Alex added on. 

“I’ll go and bring them if you bring Lily, Alex!” you answered them.

24 years old

You told Charles earlier in the week telling him that you couldn’t make it to the Bahrain Grand Prix due to work. Really you just wanted to surprise him, and you had been in contact with Carlos planning it out.

“I think he is getting suspicious of me,” Carlos told you over the phone as you got your bags together waiting for Carlos’ cousin to come and get you from the airport.

“Well, I’ve only sent him short messages for the past few days and maybe ignored a couple of his calls because I can’t keep lying to him…” you explained which caused the man on the other side of the phone to snicker at your dispense. 

“I swear you want him to kill me, Y/n. Once he finds out.”

“Find out what? Who are you talking to all the time, mate?” you listened to Charles continuously question Carlos.

"No one!" Carlos quipped.

"Is that Y/n?" Charles asked him.

"No, it's my sister..."

“Good luck!” you hung up the call quickly and got into the car with Carlos Oñoro.

“Charles found out?” he started heading to the hotel that the Ferrari team was staying at. 

“Hopefully not yet, but Carlos was talking about how he’s on to him already.”

A notification went off on your phone and you saw it was a text message from Carlos.

You opened your messages with Charles and came up with something quick to text him about.

at the circuit 

“Hermosa! You made it!” Carlos exclaimed when he saw you walking towards the group of the drivers that just got out of the media pen. "I swear he was going to choke me earlier."

You laughed at his remark and went over to his side to whisper to him, “He doesn’t know I’m here yet, right?”

He tugged you a bit closer and kept his hand on your upper back. He spoke into your ear in a hushed tone while carefully looking around, “Not a clue, but you remember what I said over text? You say he’s not your boyfriend yet, so let’s mess with him just a little. It’ll prove something to you.”

“Prove what-” 

You were cut off by Lando as he finally took notice of your presence, “Y/n! Tell me you brought them!”

“Yes, Lando,” you smiled, taking a small packaged bag of cookies out of your bag before you could even hand them to him. He had snatched it and already begun opening the bag. “Yours are back at the hotel,” you told Carlos who was trying to take one from Lando.

“GIVE ME ONE!” George yelled at Lando who took his chance and ran off with his cookies. 

“NO!” causing George to chase after the Mclaren driver. 

Another group of drivers came over as they had just finished with their interviews. You saw Charles talking with Sebastian but he didn’t see you yet. “Sweetheart! A pleasant surprise, Charles was just talking about how you couldn’t make it,” Sebastian said with a smile as he walked past you with Fernando. 

“Hello, Sebastian,” you smiled back and felt a breath near your ear. 

“How long do you think it will take him to drag you away?” Carlos said in a low voice.

“He wouldn’t,” you mutter back.

“Oh, yes he would. Good luck with him,” Carlos grinned as Charles had stormed over to you two and grabbed a hold of your wrist.

“Charlie!” you yelped as you tried to keep up with his pace towards the Ferrari’s motorhome and into his driver’s room. 

He shut the door behind him, “So you can text Carlos but not me?”

"What are you talking about?" you acted confused."

"I know you were on call with Carlos earlier. But you couldn't even answer mine this morning?"

“It was supposed to be a surprise, Charles,” you huffed out.

“What a surprise that you and Carlos are together now?” he scoffed at the mere thought.

You began to laugh aloud which caused him to frustrate even further, “E-ex-cuse me?” you said through your laughter.

“This is not funny, Y/n.”

“Charles, it’s funny you think that I would even do anything with Carlos in the first place,” you pointed out to him while setting your bag down on a chair. 

You heard his footsteps come closer to you until you felt him press against your back, “Are you not?”

You turned around to face him and took his face in your hands, “Of course not.”

“Good,” he placed his hands on your waist rubbing up and down your sides.

“And why is that?” you raised your eyebrow at him.

“Y-you kno-o-ow b-b-because you’r-re…” he trailed off a stuttering mess caught off guard by your question.

You stroke his jaw with your thumbs and brought his face closer to yours, “Charles, I’m yours. You know this.”

He leaned down and closed the gap between your lips in a long-awaited kiss. He kissed you gently as if he were testing the waters. You smiled against his lips and moved to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands moved to your hips. You moved forward slightly to lean more into him and he let out a groan against your mouth. He stilled in the kiss, keeping your hips in place from moving further. 

“No more surprises, okay?" he said as you separated.

"Okay, but no more jumping to conclusions either."

"You are going to give me gray hairs early, Chérie," he exasperated.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc headcanon #fanfic #fluff #carlos sainz #twitch quartet #charles leclerc angst #best friends to lovers

[studioghibelli]

leather & lace- a joel miller x reader series

chapter one: the silver stallion.

summary: an untamed cowboy and the sheriff's daughter. an outlaw and a goodie two shoes. a hardened piece of leather and a perfect cut of lace. at first glance, you and joel miller are polar opposites, yet somehow fate has managed to tangle you both up in the same spool of yarn.

“You're saying I'm fragile, I try not to be. I search only for something I can't see. I have my own life, and I am stronger than you know.”

warnings: violence (guns, blood, death.) enemies to lovers, an unspoken companionship of convenience, this is sort of a soulmate au? in a very thematic and metaphorical sense, age gap (50’s Joel, 20s reader), themes of guilt and betrayal, domestic abuse. if i missed any, please kindly let me know. thank you!

A silver stallion was galloping across the vast canopy of the dusty sky, illuminating the distant mountains with a sheen of gentle moonlight. It had been a harsh, dry summer, followed by an uninspired autumn, but soon the loving hand of winter would blanket the land in her snowy glory.

The town of Ruby Springs stood glimmering at the base of a mountain, the golden light of dingy hotels and busy saloons flickering in the darkening air.

It was warm, inviting-and there was nothing he wanted more than a pint of beer and a place to rest his aching feet.

How long had it been? Days? Weeks?

The time didn’t matter when his back ached like this. His crooked spine had not felt the plush feathers of a pillow in many moons, his lips had gone too long without a tender kiss from a pretty stranger.

Every inch, every bone, every breath of Joel Miller hurt.

He was getting too old for this, too lousy, too grumpy, too much of everything to keep up with it all. The train robberies, the kidnapping, the late night bank runs. If it were up to him, he would have stopped years ago.

But he was an indebted man, and Joel knew he’d have to sleep with one eye open if he tried to run away from it all. He was reminded constantly of his duties, of the promise he swore to her years ago.

Tess.

His boss, his warden, his burden. She saved a life for him, and in turn, he owed his entire world to her. Every penny, every breath, every move- Joel did so to appease Tess.

And now this.

He had done many things in his life. Cruel, unspeakable things. He had watched skin turn purple and eyes roll blank. He had watched men hang for their crimes and horses die for their loyalty. War, famine, anger, cruelty- Joel had seen his share of the world, of the vast and indescribable horrors of man.

But this. Something about this made his stomach churn. Something deep, intrinsic, something that had been determined by fate many moons before. Something he didn’t quite understand.

The letter detailing his current orders were in the pocket of his worn coat, burning a hole straight through the leather and deep in to his chest.

Joel,

The girl. The boy. Their father. In that order. This sheriff’s been sniffing out our plans for too long, and we can’t have him ringing any alarm bells. Get it done and dusted, and report back to me in Jackson.

T.

He could turn his strawberry roan mustang right around and run off, far into the desert. Where he would go, what exactly he would do- well, he wasn’t quite sure.

But he had ideas. Options. Dreams.

He could ride alongside the screaming eagles through the valleys of mesa rock, make camp beside a Montana stream rich with salmon. He could trade meat with the Apache down in New Mexico and drink moonshine beneath the stars.

He could choose to do anything but that.

No.

He couldn’t, could he?

What was more innocent blood on his hands? Joel had killed before, and he knew he would kill again.

Patting the ivory handled Colt that sat glued to his holster, he guided his steed towards Ruby Springs, stomach tight with the promise of what he was about to do.

The powder room was the color of eggshells with pink satin pillows thrown about, piles of gowns that needed to be washed and trays of powder that were fading had been littered throughout various places. It was pretty. Delicate. Feminine. A room fit for a city girl who had never known a days work. A city girl who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

A city girl Joel felt inextricably fond of, without ever knowing intimately.

The room he had found himself camped in smelled faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, and framed photos of a pretty thing and her loyal steed were hung about the walls.

You.

The woman he was sent to kill.

Joel sat behind the bed, careful not to lean back on any loose floor boards. If he made any noise, he know he was screwed. In his gloved hands was a small, circular photo frame, a photo of your face beaming up at him, his target, staring back. Your eyes were full of light, face full of promise. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen someone so beautiful, someone so fragile.

He wondered what you smelled like. He wondered what your voice sounded like, if you snorted when you laughed. When he looked at your photo, he saw hope. He saw a shadow of someone he once was.

An outline of a little boy with a heart, with a soul, with a dream. A little boy who prayed and laughed and played outside beneath the heat of the sun. A boy who kissed his mamma and brushed his dog and shook the sand from his boots before walking inside the house.

Where had he gone? What had he turned in to?

Down the hall, he could hear footsteps. Heavy and booted, hushed whispers accompanying them.

“Shit.” He muttered, grabbing his pistol and peering over the meticulously made bed.

The doorknob was rattling.

Joel glanced down at the fading picture. He really did think you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. A confident smile, pretty hair, dazzling eyes- you were so young, you looked so pure.

And your blood was about to be all over the palms of his hands.

His ribcage felt as though it was going to break, his whole body full of the whistling pressure of what must be done. Before he could even think or mourn, he heard a hiss of pain.

“Get off me, Wyatt!”

Wyatt. Your brother. The boy he was meant to kill.

“You gon’ tell daddy? Betcha’ not gonna do shit about it.” There was venom in his words, it dripped from each syllable.

Joel sat quiet. His curiosity outweighed his allegiance to Tess, and he wanted to see where this was headed.

“You killed him, Wyatt.” Your voice was hushed on that forbidden middle word, killed sounded so foreign when it came out of your mouth. It was as though your tongue wouldn’t dare hold on to the verb anymore than it had to.

“So? Don’t matter. When you’re the sheriff’s kid, you can do anythin’ you want. You should try it sometime.”

“No. I won’t. I’m going to tell him.”

“You wouldn’t.” A challenge. There was the ruffling of a leather strap, followed by the clicking of a gun. Not only a challenge, a death sentence.

Although Joel couldn’t see, the air grew thick with tension, like a beach before a storm. He could hear your little breath of air, he could smell your annoyance. Quietly, Joel peered over the mattress.

Something stirred deep within him. He wanted to protect you, and the thought made him angry.

Wyatt stood tall and dumb, buck toothed and freckled like a growling hound dog. His pistol was pointed right at you, and he wore a mask of pure anger. That’s all he was. An angry little boy with no real reason to be.

And Joel knew how to deal with angry little boys.

You couldn’t remember when it started.

The rage.

It ran unbridled through you, like a stream trickling downwards towards the edge of a mountain. You could feel it in your veins, like the stinger of a wasp, stuck with nowhere left to go.

You knew, ever since you were a young child, that one day the band that held it all together was going to snap. And one day, sweet, innocent, “Oh no sir, I could never!” little old you would snap. You would sink your teeth in the neck of a handsy man, or drive a bullet straight through a gossipy woman’s stomach.

One day that band would break. And one day your perfect socialite image would come crashing down.

Today, spoiler alert, was that day.

That morning, when you had awoken, your thighs were sticky with your own blood, and your skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. Winter was approaching, but the wooden walls of your family home held in the heat from the furnace like no other.

You were hot. You were angry. You were a woman on the edge, standing at the precipice of a ravine full of hatred and violence. One little gust of wind, and you’d be pushed over the edge.

Enter: Wyatt.

Your big brother. Nasty, incompetent, spoiled rotten by your overly doting mother who never, over her now dead body, treated you the same.

Wyatt could get away with whatever he wanted. Why? He was daddy’s favorite. The crown jewel of Ruby Springs. Next in line to be the town’s newest, gluttonous, and corrupt Sheriff.

Wyatt was a pig. A fucking pig you would send to the slaughterhouse if you could. You could do a lot of damage with a nail gun to his forehead, you thought.

When he had grabbed you by the arm and dragged you in to your room to snarl his line of profanities, you were already knee deep in the rotted mud of a shitty day.

One little gust of wind.

“-You wouldn’t.” Wyatt’s tone was full of that disgusting self-righteous attitude he always carried around with him, full of the thought that nothing could ever harm him, full of the thought that there was no one who could put him in his place. When he pulled his pistol out on you, no fear coursed through you.

Why would it?

You had been spanked as a child, damn near shot by your own father when you were twelve and accidentally dropped a bucket of hot water on his feet. When he grabbed you by the throat and threatened to spill your life blood, you felt it for the first time.

That rage. That deep, bitter, heavy rage.

One little gust of wind.

“What are you doing, Wyatt?” You asked nonchalantly, eyes flickering down to his gun.

“Protectin’ myself.”

“From what?”

“You.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “You’re such a fucking coward. You know that?”

Wyatt held the barrel of his gun against your chin. It was cold. It was… inviting, like a hug from a distant family member. There was a feeling to that frigid metal against your skin that felt familiar, a yearning deep within you that had always been there but never awoken.

Not until now.

“Don’t test me, girl.”

“No, Wyatt.” Your voice was low, like the growl of a cougar. Your dumb brother didn’t notice you reaching towards your vanity, to the pointed hair pic resting gently on the edge. It wasn’t a knife, but it would do.

They say poison was the weapon of women, but you figured anything could work if you gritted your teeth hard enough.

So grit your teeth you did. So hard you could hear them heaving and grinding against another, like the metal cogs of a train engine.

“You don’t test me.”

Wyatt took a step back. A floorboard creaked, from what- or who- you weren’t sure. All you knew was your red tinted vision, the thrumming pound drumming at the back of your head, was filling your mind with the promise of a fight.

“I have put up with you for so long. Your incessant bitching, your stupid fucking crocodile tears. I’ve put up with the abuse- from you and papa- and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you. You know what doctor’s do when a sickness starts spreading? They get rid of it. And I’m going to get rid of you. You’re a fucking pain in my ass. A disease.”

You had never seen Wyatt go so wide eyed before, like a doe stuck at the end of a bowie knife, a rabbit lost in the woods. There was a bead of sweat forming at his temple, crinkles scrunching at the side of his dark eyes as he squinted, trying to make sense of what was going on in the world around him.

“You-….” He stood up straighter, cleared his throat louder. Wyatt’s eyebrows knitted tightly together as he gained his arrogance back again. “You on your period or something?” The chiding tone of his voice was enough to break that band.

One little gust of wind.

“That’s it!” You screamed out as your legs carried you, your mind completely on auto-pilot as your instincts guided you. In a matter of seconds Wyatt was on the floor, and the hair pic was lodged deep into the flesh of his cheek.

He cried out, a string of curses soon following. “You crazy bitch! You fuckin’ stabbed me!” He spit, a loose molar tumbling to the floor.

“I said don’t mess with me!”

“You’re fuckin’ crazy!” Wyatt easily wrestled you to the ground, shuffling around for his pistol as you struggled against his grasp. Unfortunately he was much stronger, and you held no power over him while he had the high ground.

You felt the cold barrel of his Colt on the temple of your eye, and for a moment you accepted your fate. At least you went out with a bang.

And there was indeed a bang, followed by a thud, and before you knew it, you were being suffocated with the body of your lifeless brother, your neck and face painted with the crimson of his blood.

Joel had no clue what had come over him.

He hadn’t felt protective like this for a very long time.

Not since her.

As he perched behind the cushy mattress, listening to you two bicker like a pair of angry birds, a wave of emotion rushed over him. A bit of fear, an unforeseen amount of admiration, and a twinge of…. well, something he didn’t really know the word for. Interest?

Interest? Joel shook his head to himself quietly. He wouldn’t. And even worse than that- he couldn’t.

Interest. In his line of work? Not a safe option, not a safe feeling.

Joel held his gun steady, ears perked like an alert dog, waiting for an opportunity. An opportunity for what exactly, well, he wasn’t quite sure.

When he heard your bodies tackle to the ground, he knew he had to do something about it. Before he could think about his next move, his mind shut off, and his gun was pointed right at Wyatt’s head.

Something within him could hardly stand it, seeing you there, wide eyed and covered in blood. His ears were ringing, the echo of the shot bouncing off the wooden walls of the house. It had been drowned out by the old church bells right across the street, signaling the turn of midnight, the noisy commotion of the late night saloon bustling about outside the frosted windows.

“Up.” Was all he could manage to get out, extending a gloved hand your way.

Fuck Tess. Fuck it all. He wasn’t going to kill you.

Because God above, were you even more breathtaking in person. He felt his stomach twist and knot around itself, his organs rearranging themselves at the mere sight of you. His palms grew sweaty behind his gloves, his heart slammed against his ribcage, begging for a prison escape.

He didn’t know what to do with all the emotion fluttering about behind his skin.

It was in that moment that Joel Miller decided he hated you.

The weight of a dead body was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

Your mouth was full with the taste of metal and gunpowder, your eyelashes cracking with drying viscera. It smelled like searing flesh, and your nostrils flared at the intrusion.

The strange man stood towering above you. Strong, capable, eyes hidden behind the brim of his dark Stetson.

“Up.”

It was a simple command. Covered in the previous life of your brother who easily wrestled you in to submission, you decided to take both his hand and his offer. It was one of the kinder interaction you had had today.

While rising to your feet, your eyes caught his own.

His eyes.

You had never seen a shade of umber so alluring before. Honeyed spheres full of coffee tinted orbs, his pupils wide and dilated with the rush of taking another man’s life. There was something dangerous about his eyes, something dark and distant, as though he had seen and partaken in unspeakable horrors, as though he had carried the entire weight of the world on his shoulders and survived to tell the tale.

He was a broken man, you knew it right off the bat. A broken man with nowhere else to go, or nothing else to do, except shoot people with bounties on their head.

Oh, you weren’t naive. It wasn’t the first time a man had been found hiding in your room, ready to take you. Why, kidnapping the Sheriff’s daughter for ransom would give them a pretty penny, wouldn’t it? But you have a murderous brother- correction, had- who didn’t mind hunting men down and killing them. Not because he cared about you, of course not, but because he loved the feeling of murder, he danced with the illustrious shadow of death.

That shadow came back to bite him in the ass, and you relished in watching him die.

Fuck Wyatt. Fuck that tool. He had tormented you your entire life and now he was gone.

You shook those thoughts away, returning to the gaze of the man before you. Something rumbled deep in your soul, something you had never felt before. A tug, a pull, towards the person who stood tall in front of you. You had never felt something so intense, so deep, in all your life. It’s like you were stuck in the waves of a tempestuous ocean, with no escape in sight and a mouthful of sea water clawing at the back of your throat.

You were drowning in those honeyed orbs, a gust of wind pulled you back down to reality.

Finally, you could speak. “I’m-”

“I know who you are.” His voice was raw and deep. You watched him wipe his bloodied gloves off on the denim of his pants, and you winced.

“Are you taking me somewhere?”

“Yes.”

For a moment you stopped. You could run out the door, it was three feet away. You could also pounce and grab Wyatt’s gun, it was right at your feet.

Or…. you could go with him. You could run away from the abuse, the suffocating town, the disgusting standards, the burden of having a social life in the public eye. You could prove a point to your father.

You could be your own person.

In that moment you decided that this man was going to be your ticket out of Ruby Springs.

“Can I change?”

“What?” Joel looked at you like you were crazy, a thick eyebrow raising with incredulousness at the sound of your statement.

“Can I change? I’m covered in blood. I want to put on a clean dress, it reeks of Wyatt.”

The unnamed cowboy sighed. “Fine. But be quick.”

You began the tedious process of stripping out of your layers, starting with the buttons on your sleeves. “And don’t think about looking.”

“I ain’t lookin’.” His voice was tired with annoyance, an echo of the man he once was. He turned around on his heel, staying true to his word with his broad back turned to you.

“What’s your name anyways, mister?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“I reckon you and I are going to be spending a bit of time together.”

He snorted, and you watched his shoulders rise and fall with a shrug. “Miller. Joel Miller.”

Your fingers stopped in their tracks, your body short circuiting as the name replayed in your mind, again and again.

Joel Miller.

The Joel Miller.

He was as famous as Billy the Kid, as notorious as Jesse James- he was an outlaw that everyone, even those fancy pants on the East Coast, knew of. And he was standing in your room.

Joel let out a sigh. “Your silence is loud, girl.”

“I just…” You paused for a moment as you flicked through your wardrobe. “I just…. my dad used to tell us stories about you when we were kids. He…. well-”

“Hates me?”

“Damn straight. Made it his life mission to hunt you down.”

“Well he ain’t that good at it. Considering I walked right in to his town.”

You laughed, slipping in to a chemise. “He’s gotten a bit stupid in his old age. Should I go and tell him you’re here? Give him a head start?”

You could have sworn you heard Joel chuckle, but a quick clearing of the throat masked whatever sound of amusement he could have made.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“You don’t know? That’s not how ransoms work, you know. This isn’t my first time being snatched up.” You held your head up high, buttoning up the front of your blouse.

“Doesn’t surprise me. Lot’s of hunters like your type.”

“My type?”

“Naive little girls with rich daddies. The kind that pay well.”

“Naive? Don’t make me laugh.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. You’re definitely not naive. You put up a good fight with your brother.”

You had to learn to defend yourself at an early age. You had to hold your own. There were days you would walk back home from school with swollen eyes and cracked knuckles. By the time you hit puberty, your mother started dressing you up in the attire that good little girls from rich little families inside snooty little social circles wore. Dresses the color of poppies, shoes made from silk- it was all lovely, and you grew to love it all, but deep down you knew it wasn’t where you belonged.

You didn’t respond to Joel. You threw on your overskirt, slipping on your tired leather boots. “Ready.” You chirped.

Joel turned around on his heel, looking at you through his eyelashes. There was a short moment of silence before he picked your brother up and tossed him on your bed.

You winced. “Come on. Those sheets were clean.”

He ignored you, patting through his pockets. A few stray bullets and some loose change later, and you were sneaking out the back of your house.

“Can I go grab my horse?”

“That would defeat the purpose of a kidnappin’, girl.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please? I don’t want to leave Fritz here.”

“Fritz?” Joel scoffed at the name, staring you down.

“Please?”

Joel gritted his teeth, hissing out a shot of hot air. “Fine. But be quick or I’m shootin’ you too.”

You smiled a toothy grin, running off to the stables. You had appeared just as quick as you left, an all black stallion standing tall and proud. His mane was braided, and his soft nose was pink. He was a handsome specimen, standing out like a sore thumb beside the strawberry coated mustang.

“What’s her name?” You asked, following him closely on the path that lead out of the town. You noticed you were headed for the mountains.

“My horse?”

You nodded, before realizing he couldn’t see you. “Uh, yeah.”

Joel sniffed a bit. “She doesn’t have one.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s just a damn horse.”

You rolled your eyes, running your fingers down Fritz’s soft neck. “She’s your companion. She trusts you more than anything, you know. She’s bonded to you, completely at your service, and you can’t even give her a name?”

“Will you just shut up? You’re yapping my ear off, woman. Kidnapee’s ain’t supposed to talk this damn much.”

“Well you ain’t never kidnapped someone like me, Joel Miller.”

As you rode in silence, the early morning thickness hanging in the air, the sound of cicadas lulled you deeper in to your thoughts. Thoughts of Wyatt, thoughts of the strange man riding in front of you.

The strange man who seemed so cold, so mean. And what kind of dick didn’t name their horse?

It was in that moment that you decided you hated Joel Miller.

tag list: @loliwrites @persephone-girl @ilovepedro @noisynightmarepoetry @moel-jiller @bensonispunk @obvitsclaire @redb1cpen @paanchusblog @joelalorian @dragonsanddragons @ashleyfilm @kungfucapslock @cumberpegg @cupidguider @sunandmuun

#studioghibelli #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us fic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #tlou au #joel tlou #tlou fic #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #cowboy au #western au

[xxsabitoxx]

Kyojuro’s a fairly innocent guy. At least that’s what he tells himself. He’s focused on his profession, on saving the lives of those who can’t protect themselves. That doesn’t mean he’s a stranger to his hormones, by all means he’s quite familiar with them. They don’t make an appearance all that often, but they’re certainly there.

He could honestly go about his life never having sex and it wouldn’t bother him really… that is until he met you.

A mission gone wrong earned Kyojuro a month's stay at the Butterfly estate. As cheesy as it sounds, when he first woke up in that bed he thought he had died. You were beside his bed, carefully changing the bandages on his wounds. “Oh! Rengoku-Sama! How are you feeling?!” He blinked at you, lips parted as he took in what he believed to be an angel. "You don't need to reply if speaking is difficult right now..." you laughed nervously, moving to finish the half-bandaged wound. Still, he was too stunned to speak.

You quickly grew fond of each other within the first week of his stay. Bringing the pillar his meals and checking his bandages every few hours. That eventually turned into Kyojuro asking you to stay, eat with him, chat with him into the late hours of the night and early hours of the morning. By the second week, it was quite apparent to everyone that the two of you had quickly grown to care for one another.

“Beautiful as ever this morning.” You rolled your eyes, face warming as you set the tray of food on his bed for him. “You’re too much, Rengoku-san.” He smiled, he was still trying to get you to call him by his first name. Though, he had to admit you changing from sama to san in a weeks time was a good start. “It’s the honest truth, I have no reason to lie.” He thanked you for the food, smiling a bit more as you pulled a stool to sit by his bed. “Fine, you’re far too kind.” You countered, hoping it would ease your racing heart. “Really, it’s the truth. When I woke up last week, while you were tending to my wounds, I truly believed I had died and you were an Angel.”

You would have laughed if it weren’t for the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn’t joking, not one bit, and that made you feel warm all over. “You truly find me beautiful?” You commented softly, watching as he began to eat. He nodded, wild hair bouncing as he focused on you again. “How could I not? Your beauty was enough to render be speechless.” You had to turn your gaze, if you kept looking at him you were certain you’d burst into flames. “If it says anything at all, Rengoku-san… I find you very handsome.” You met his gaze, eyes widening significantly when realized how red his face was turning.

By his third week there, the tension between the two of you had grown significantly. “Is something bothering you?” You swallowed, sitting on his bedside to begin dressing the wound that had landed him here. It was making steady progress healing wise but it still needed to be treated and re-bandaged every day. Your fingers ghosted over his side, just above the wound. He turned away, face red as he focused on the bed sheets. You had seen him shirtless every single day for the last three weeks. Now, he couldn't handle it without feeling some type of way. Not embarrassment... quite the opposite.

He wanted you to see more… feel more. He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply before responding. “No… nothing is bothering me.” You weren’t content with that answer, packing gauze over the cut before grabbing more to begin wrapping. “Then why are you so avoidant all of a sudden?” You had to wonder if he felt it too… was that why he was withdrawing? “I…for your own sake.” He grounded out, face flushing a deep shade of crimson as he focused on his hand fisted in the sheets. “For my own sake? That sounds like you’re dangerous.” You teased, ignoring the way his knuckles turned white with the strength of his grip. “Maybe I am… I don’t know how to put this without crossing a line…” you stopped mid-wrap, looking up at him with a quirked brow.

“I think I know where you’re going with this Ren…no… Kyojuro.”

That got his attention back on you, eyes wide and lips parted. Again, he seemed too surprised to speak, so you carried on. "I like you... a lot. More than a friend, much more than that actually…” you wanted to scream how much you wanted him, hands shakily going back to wrapping. “Y/n…” his voice was lower than you’d ever heard it, your eyes peaking up at him through your lashes. “Hmm?” He was looking at you with flushed cheeks, pupils dilated. “I need you.” You didn’t need to ask him to clarify, the intentions were made loud and clear. “You’re still injured…and we’re in the infirmary… someone could hear… or see… I’m technically working…” What you really wanted to say is that it would be indecent of you to get fucked by your patient. “I don’t care. I need you.”

#kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer smut #hashira #demon slayer fluff #xxsabitoxx’s work! #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku #kimetsu rengoku #rengoku x reader #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku x y/n #kny kyojuro #kny rengoku #rengoku smut #kyojuro rengoku smut

[idkwhatever580]

I’ll cut your f****** balls off!

Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader

Prompt: y/n gets mad when Bruce “accidentally” ends up with his face in Natasha’s boobs 🤨

Warnings: cursing, Bruce slander, jealousy, boobies, fight scene, y/n is more than a bit angry, soft/sensitive y/n at the end

A/N: I legit wish I was him. But I was a little too nice to him in Are you mad? So I decided to throw out some hate. Not proofread 😬

——————————————

Y/n’s pov

I am watching Natasha pour herself a drink from the couch I’m sitting at with a smile on my face. When I see Bruce creep up to the bar to talk to Natasha.

I squint my eyes at his awkward stance and decide that there’s no harm in listening in on their conversation. So I perk up on my super hearing and zone into their words.

“How’d a nice girl like you end up working at a dump like this?”

“Fella done me wrong”

I furrow my eyebrows at Natasha’s words. I know she doesn’t really know how to handle situations like this other than flirting since she was trained to do that, but it still makes me feel uneasy since we’ve been dating for a while now. I also didn’t think I did anything wrong.

“Got a lousy taste in men kid”

“They’re not so bad”

I hope she’s just joking, but what did I do to wrong her if she’s not? Also why is she not correcting him on my pronouns if she’s talking about me?

“Well they have a temper, deep down they’re all fluff. The fact is they’re not like anybody I’ve ever known.”

A look of confusion falls upon my face when I hear this. I can’t tell if she’s talking about me or Bruce. I want to assume it’s me but the way they’re ogling each other makes me doubt myself. I keep looking at the ground.

They talk a bit more and I keep listening.

“They sound amazing”

“They’re also a huge dork.”

I haven’t actually given them many looks during their conversation in fear that they’ll see me. But I look over at this point and I tilt my head. Then she adds.

“Chicks dig that”

And I’m angry.

Is she really talking about him? Maybe she’s trying to be nice and still doesn’t know how to. Maybe she doesn’t realize she’s flirting hardcore.

I snap out of my thoughts and they are still talking

“Did he- were they- what did they do that was so… wrong to you?”

“Not a damn thing… but never say never”

I huff at her words and I watch as she walks over to me and sits down. She looks at me and I fix my face before she can tell I’m mad.

I’m gonna brush it aside and see if she tells me anything.

“What were you and Bruce talking about?”

I say with the most composed voice I can. She smiles and says

“I was talking about you. I don’t think he knows about us”

She smiles and I smile back and say

“Really? We’ve been dating for what? Six months now? And most everybody has found out.”

She shrugs her shoulders and says

“I think he was thinking of Cho when I was talking. I was like “chicks dig dorks” and he is a dork and I’m sure Cho likes him.”

I take a steady breath and nod my head. I grab Natasha’s drink and take a sip of it

“Hey! that’s mine!”

I give it back and say

“Sorry. I wanted to try it.”

It’s getting to the end of the party everyone is gone except the rest of the avengers and a stray drunk man that probably had some of Thor’s asgardian liquor.

The boys are trying to lift Thor’s hammer and Natasha has moved to my side. I look down at my dress and smooth out some of the wrinkles.

When suddenly this beat up robot comes out and starts talking all this crap. Everyone is on edge and suddenly he says he’s on a mission

“Peace in our time”

And then a bunch of Tony’s robots come flying out. Everyone scatters and I run behind the bar to grab the gun from it when Natasha jumps over and lands on her back

“Nat”

I try to go to her but then Bruce ends up on the bar.

Dumbass

Natasha pulls him off of the bar and he lands right on top of her.

His face is in her boobs and the impact makes Nat let out a loud choked groan. I narrow my eyes at him as he apologizes and she says

“Don’t turn green”

He says

“I won’t” and I grab one of the guns and she grabs the other.

She starts shooting and I wait and she looks at me and I nod my head towards the stairs and she tells Bruce to come with her.

I stay at the bar and wait for an opening to hit the robot.

I shoot it a couple times but this fucking gun doesn’t have as many rounds as Nat’s. So I wait a second and yell at cap to throw my his shield.

He throws it and I grab it doing a spin maneuver and throw it right at the robot slicing it clean in half.

This Ultron dude keeps yapping on and on about peace and whatever until Thor throws his hammer.

I don’t care right now. I am seething with how Bruce thinks he can do that to my girl.

Everyone tries to collect themselves making sure nobody is hurt but I march over to Bruce and Natasha and I start yelling

“You fucking cunt!”

Natasha gets in between us before I can hit him and she says

“Woah woah woah hold on babe what’s going on”

But I ignore her

“You think you can have her?! She’s mine you bitch!”

Everyone is worried about how I’m being kinda crazy so they circle around us and make sure I can’t get to Bruce. And he says

“Did you not just see what happened?! And you’re worried about me liking her?”

I huff and say

“I don’t give a fuck what just happened! You know what just happened?! You shoved your face in my girls tits! That’s what happened!”

He is actually scared of me and Tony is behind him saying

“Don’t turn green please”

For once he keeps his composure and says

“I didn’t mean to! She was pulling me down from getting shot!”

I get angrier and say

“So you’re gonna say it’s an accident? Don’t act like I didn’t hear your conversation earlier! I heard how you want her! If you ever touch her again I’ll cut your fucking balls off! You hear me?!”

Natasha ends up picking me up and carrying me to our room. She tells Tony

“I gotta get her away from him. When she’s calm we’ll come back to help. Just worry about ultron and Bruce.”

He nods his head as they all disperse. Natasha carries me to our room and then plops me down on the ground and says

“What the fuck y/n?! What the hell was that?!”

I look at the ground while my breathing is a bit erratic. I don’t say anything as I avoid eye contact with her.

She realizes I’m shutting down and to combat that she brings me over to the bed and makes me sit down. I look at my hands that are now in my lap and she sits down on my lap and wraps her arms around my neck.

As she plays with my hair she says

“Baby, can you please tell me what’s going on? Why are you so worked up over Bruce?”

I huff and say

“I heard what you said! You were totally talking about him and then he went and shoved his face in your boobs. That’s only my thing to do.”

She sighs and keeps asking knowing there’s more to it.

“Baby, what else?”

I stay silent for a bit and she squeezes my shoulder in reassurance and I crack. I immediately start crying and saying

“Please don’t leave me I love you. I don’t want you to leave me. Please don’t go! I love you!”

She pulls me in and rubs my back. Then she maneuvers us so that I am now straddling her lap.

Usually I act all tough when we’re around others but I am a baby around Natasha. She just brings the soft side out in me.

She rubs my back and shushes my crying and says

“Oh baby, I’m not leaving you. I love you too.”

My sons turn into more silent tears and she pulls me away from her neck. I whine a bit but she clicks her tongue and I quiet up. She makes me look into her eyes and says

“Listen to me okay?”

I nod my head and sniffle

“I am not leaving you for Bruce. I am not leaving you for anyone. I love you so so much and I don’t ever want to leave you okay?”

I nod my head and she continues

“Now that I’ve said that, I want to say that I was not talking about Bruce when I was talking to him. He had come up to me and said how he feels like he can’t talk to girls. He likes Cho, and he asked if he could practice being smooth or whatever with me. So I said yes not knowing you were being hurt by that. If I knew you’d be hurt I would have never done it.”

She pauses and I nod my head so she continues

“So yes I was flirting with him but it was fake and he was just trying to be cool for Cho okay?”

I look down and nod my head then she lifts my head back up by my chin and says

“I’m so sorry. I can see how that got mistranslated from across the room. Will you please forgive me?”

I nod my head and say

“I was never mad at you.”

She smiles and kisses my pout into a smile and when she pulls away I whine a bit in protest. I try to get another kiss but she says

“None of that detka. We have a big matter to handle then we can make out at much as you want okay?”

I nod my head and get up to go downstairs but she grabs my wrist and says

“Let’s get changed”

So she changes into a tank top and shorts and I change into a baggy shirt and shorts. Then Natasha says

“When we go downstairs, you’re gonna apologize to Bruce and then we’re gonna figure this ultron stuff out okay?”

I roll my eyes and nod my head but Natasha doesn’t like when I roll my eyes so she smacks my butt a bit and says

“Don’t roll your eyes at me”

I look down and say

“Sorry. I’ll apologize to Bruce”

She smiles and gives me a peck on the cheek.

We head downstairs and I go into the lab.

“Hey, um Bruce?”

He looks up and immediately is scared and he backs away, so u throw my hands up in surrender and say

“I’m not here to cause any trouble. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I let jealousy overtake me and I got a little scared that Natasha and you liked each other. I didn’t know you like Cho. So I just wanted to apologize and say I’m not gonna cut your balls off”

He chuckles and says

“Uh it’s okay. Thanks for not murdering me”

He scratches the back of his head and I nod and go to leave but I pause and say

“You and Cho would go good together. I also think she likes you back so you should go for her after all this is over.”

He smiles and thanks me and I leave.

I walk into the hallway and Natasha is waiting for me there. I go to her and hug her but instead of a normal hug I shove my face in her boobs.

She laughs at my possessiveness and says

“You good there?”

I nod my head and say

“Mine”

But it is muffled since, of course, my face is literally in her boobs. And she chuckles and pats my head softly before rubbing it and says

“Yes. All yours.”

Once I am satisfied we go into our office and start working to figure out the ultron shit.

I look over at Natasha and say

“I’ll still cut his balls of if he touches you wrong again, or anyone’s for that matter”

She laughs and pats my head before saying

“I’m sure you will baby. I’m sure you will.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I didn’t want to make Bruce the real bad guy. Oh no 😥 I’m going soft. A few years ago I would have never been nice about him. I hope you liked it!

#avengers #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #fanfiction

[a-spes]

| ALL THE THINGS I AM NOT - One shot (3.097 words).

| Summary - Since Peter Parker joined the team, things aren't the same anymore. Why does everyone seem to prefer him to you? (Inspired by that post from @th3-c0rps3-r0gu3)

| Tags & warnings - soft mom!Natasha Romanoff x adoptive daughter!Reader, former widow!R, angst with a bit of comfort, happy ending, R&Nat are insecure (they're trying their best), self-hatred, mention of past traumas, R is injuried (during a mission), mention of blood&death.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

You wouldn’t say that you hate Peter Parker. 

It is a strong word to describe your feelings, and you don’t like what it implies. You can’t hate someone who hasn’t done anything wrong to you, someone like him. He is the opposite of a bad person, so why I am feeling that way? He is nice. That’s what everyone is saying about him, and you know they are right, even if you don’t like to admit it. He always has that smile when you two are talking, answering you kindly even when you’re trying to test his limits.

It would’ve been easier to not like him if he had any defects, but he doesn’t. You’ve tried to find some, you’ve spent hours observing him, waiting for the moment he would make a fatal mistake, but the moment never came. You even started to question if he was human.

Natasha told you that humans make mistakes all the time, and that you can’t avoid them. It’s normal, she said, that’s what makes you one. You used to think you were better than that, better than everyone, but are you? When you look at the boy, you are not sure anymore.

He is everything I am not. 

You thought you were doing good, really. You made a lot of progress, and effort, since you've joined the team. Two years ago, most of them wouldn't even agree to let you out of your room. Now, you could talk normally to almost all of them.

You thought that you were doing things right with the team, but you slowly realised that your attempts are not enough anymore. You have made a lot of progress since the first time you set foot in the compound, no one will deny it, but you are not at his level yet. 

Two years ago, you wouldn’t even step out of your room during the day, barely sleeping when the night came around, and at best you would exchange wary glances with the team. You didn’t trust them nor they did, and even if you are now talking, it hasn't changed a lot. That’s something they never told you, but their eyes and actions have done it for them. These two never lie, not when you know how to interpret them.

They don’t even let you go on a mission alone, let alone attending the most important meetings. You think it is stupid because you are the most skilled of everyone here. Well, maybe it’s not true, you never managed to beat Natasha in a fight, but you are sure that you are at least as useful as them on the field. 

I am too young, just a kid. 

That’s what they call you, but the nickname doesn’t carry the same kindness as when it’s for Peter, their voices being tinged with disdain. Except when it’s from Natasha, you like it when she calls you nicknames. She doesn’t do it because she thinks you are not capable of handling yourself, but to remind you that you have time. The time to learn, to make mistakes, to grow. You both know that you will never be a normal teenager, it is too late for that, and nothing can erase the first years of your life, but the redhead is confident : you’ll learn how to live, you just need a bit of help. 

She is the only one that doesn’t seem to treat you differently, but you are not sure if she counts. You two are the same. You have been through the same things, and she is the one that brought you here, it is obvious that she wouldn’t let you go. 

She wouldn’t, right?

You don’t know. You are not sure of anything, everything seems to go backward since he joined the team. All the progress you’ve made? Gone. In a few weeks, he did better than you’ll ever be able to do, and you don’t even understand how that’s possible.

You can beat him in a fight whenever you want, no matter the conditions. Even with your eyes closed, and your hands tied behind your back, you would be able to put him down in a matter of seconds. You are fast, strong and attentive while he is clumsy, dreamy and weak. He can’t even use a gun properly, always missing his target when it’s moving, even slowly. Whenever you are looking at him, all you can see is a kid that has no idea what he's doing here but thought it would be fun. A kid that was given a toy, and thought that it made him the most important person on that earth, a hero.

I am everything he is not. 

Yet, they prefer him, so there must be something you are missing. Since he joined the team, he has created a strong bond with all the Avengers, even with Natasha. You thought your relationship with her was special, but it’s apparently not that much. You saw them laughing together, but you’ve seen worse when you witnessed the woman ruffling the boy’s hair. You are sure she would braid the boy’s hair too if it was longer. 

Well, maybe I hate him.

You have every reason to feel this way when he was stealing what’s yours, destroying what you had taken so long to build. Only, it somehow didn’t feel right. Natasha doesn’t belong to you, none of them are. They are humans, and humans have feelings, they don’t have to get along with everyone. That’s what you’ve learned from the redhead, but you only realise now that it is not only true for you ; you can’t force anyone to appreciate you. Yet, you would have liked to live up to their expectations, something the boy seems to do effortlessly.

He is always smiling, saying the right thing at the right moment, laughing with the others. Since he arrived, he has never made anyone angry, he never had one of those violent breakdowns where you would hit someone by accident. Natasha says it is not your fault, but you know that the others don’t think the same way.

Durings meals, apart from their missions, Peter Parker is the only thing they know how to talk about. Everything he does is praised. Even the things you were doing as a kid, things you’ve never been congratulated for because everyone had to know that, it was normal. Natasha said it was not, but you are not sure if you believe her yet because if it’s not, where are your praises? 

Maybe it is because they don’t expect anything from him. He is just a kid who’s learning, not a threat to be dealt with, let alone a weapon to train. No, Peter Parker is none of that. He is nothing more than a stupid kid who’s trying his best to save the city, and it’s a story you can’t bear to hear anymore. Just his name makes you feel as if your whole body is burning. It’s a feeling you can’t name, but you are sure that you don’t like it.

He is everything I am not. 

If you saved him that day, it is definitely not because you appreciate him. You even had a moment of hesitation before throwing yourself between him and that bullet, wouldn’t your life be easier if he wasn’t here? No, it wouldn’t. 

You didn’t want to take that bullet for him, especially not when this is the consequence of his own stupidity, but it was the obvious choice. You hate being sent on a mission with him because it is like going with a baby widow. You have done everything right, he has not, and yet you are the one suffering the consequences of his recklessness. 

If he had died today, it would’ve been your fault. You know it’s not true, but you can already hear them tell you that it is. That’s why you did it, because you know they value his life more than yours. It is not easy to accept that you are not the most important person on the team anymore. In fact, you have never been there since you joined the Avengers, but you believe that it was true before. 

Those people, they have powers and technology. They can do things you will never be able to achieve, no matter how hard you try. You hate that too, that feeling of failure. Yet it is not your fault if you are trapped in a competition that you can’t win. So you thought that, maybe, if you save their precious boy, then you would get the attention you wanted. 

I didn’t want to, but I did what I was supposed to. 

Except it doesn’t feel right. The Quinjet was quiet during the return journey. You didn’t even know where the boy was, and honestly couldn’t care less. You were even relieved to know that he couldn’t witness you in a moment of weakness, leaving you alone to inspect the wound left by the bullet. You told him it was nothing, but you lied, and you don’t even need to take a close look at your abdomen to know that.

However, it wasn’t the pain that was worrying you. The only thing you could think about was their reactions. Natasha told you many times that you are allowed to make mistakes, that it makes you human, not weak, but you know she is lying. You’ve already heard Fury scolding people for their mistakes, even the Avengers sometimes fought for the same reason, and you definitely don’t want to deal with that right now.

So when the Quinjet eventually lands, you go straight to your room. You were scared to step foot in the common areas in this condition because you knew your mom was waiting for you there. Maybe she had made your favourite meal, or maybe she decided to do the boy’s favourite. This time, you can’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes.

You’ve seen how she acts with the boy. She is so caring, always smiling, and her eyes are even shining. You don’t think it has ever happened when she is with you. Her expression is always tinged with sadness, perhaps pity. It is when you witness those moments that you realise that she deserves more than you will ever be able to give her : a normal kid. 

Maybe she realised it too.

Last night, she came home late, called in for a last-minute mission, and she missed your return by a few hours. She had no idea how your mission went, and even if she trusts you to handle yourself, she can’t help but feel concerned. She doesn’t like to know that you’re on a mission without her because anything can happen.

If Natasha was already worried, it is only when the following morning came that the feeling began to gnaw at her from the inside. She even started to bite her nails again. It was almost ten in the morning, and no one had seen you yet. They say that you are probably sleeping, and they might be right, but what if they are not?

She knows that some missions can be exhausting, and not only physically, what if it was one of those? You didn’t seem to be doing well lately. Despite the appearances, she noticed every little change in your behaviour, and she is sad to see you going backwards. She guessed that, maybe, you needed a little space, but she is no longer sure she made the right choice. She has the feeling that your relationship has deteriorated in recent weeks, almost as if you were avoiding her.

The redhead could no longer bear to stare at the hands of the medical bay’s clock, all she wanted to do was go, and check on you, but she couldn’t. She made a promise to the boy’s aunt. She glances at Peter who was asleep, he has been injured during the mission, nothing serious, he should be out of here the following morning. However, she promised her aunt to look after him when she couldn’t. 

She always keeps her promises.

Natasha didn’t bat an eye all night, but even if she had wanted to sleep, she wouldn’t have been able to. She couldn’t stop thinking. When the day came, she still had no idea what to do. Widows aren’t known to be good at expressing their feelings. The woman always felt awkward in her interactions with you, scared that her actions could do more harm than good. Maybe you weren’t the one that needed a bit of space. 

“How is she?” is the first thing the boy asked when he woke up that morning, but the frown on the Avenger’s face let him know that she had no idea what he was talking about. “We got a bit of a … situation during the mission” he explained, avoiding saying that his recklessness put them in danger, “we both got hurt, but it is nothing too serious”, he quickly added when he saw the expression on the redhead face changing suddenly.

The boy tried to reassure her, but it was too late. The woman barely heard him as she was rushing out of the medical bay. She was an idiot. She should’ve checked on you the moment she stepped foot on the compound, she should’ve guessed that you wouldn’t go to the medical bay on your own. You’ve always hated those places because it is where you are the most vulnerable.

It was almost eleven when she knocked at your door. She did it three times, but each of them was met with an oppressive silence. When she tried to open it, she discovered that it was locked. However, there isn’t a door in that world that can stop a widow. In less than a minute, she manages to open it, and enters the room.

She understands something is wrong when she sees your form under the covers. You would never stay in bed that late, being awake before she is most of the time. If at first she was hesitant to step in, she almost ran to your bed when you didn’t reply to her calling your name multiple times. Your sleep is so light that someone walking across the corridor is usually enough to wake you up in a flash.

She pulls back the covers without thinking twice about it, and the view she sees is definitely not what she would call “nothing serious”. The sheets are covered in blood, your blood, and you are not sleeping at all, she can see how you are struggling to keep your eyes open. She is not even sure you noticed her presence.

"Baby?" she tried to call again, but you didn’t react to the nickname either. "Baby, what happened? Talk to me, please, open your eyes", she said, kneeling by your side.

She shakes you slowly, but it has no effect. You don’t react before her hands grip your face, her nails leaving marks on your skin because of the brutality of her precipitous gesture. She is trying to open your eyelids to see your eyes when a whine escapes your lips.

You have no idea what’s happening, but don’t have the energy to ask the question. You just wish the woman would let you go back to your comfortable slumber, far from the pain, and that world of misery you were trapped in. But she doesn’t. Instead, she stole your blanket, leaving you shivering with cold, and she wouldn’t stop talking, worsening your headache.

When she takes you in her arms, being as careful as she could, she notices how cold you were. Yet, you seemed to be sweaty. She doesn’t waste more time, almost running back to the medical bay. You were hanging in her arms as a rag doll would, your head dangling painfully on the side, and the same was true for your limbs.

She held you firmly in her arms, constantly glaring at you, as if she feared you might disappear if she let her guard down. On the way, she kept mumbling things that you couldn’t understand, not knowing if those were really intended for you, or if it was a way to reassure herself. Maybe it was both.

When the woman pushed the medical bay door, she didn’t even need to yell for someone to come. The second the doctors saw you, they knew it was an emergency. 

It is only a few days after that they let you out of the medicine that was keeping you out. The first thing you felt was the pain you tried to ignore since you've been shot. A whine escapes your lips. You felt your mom close to you before you saw her. She probably didn't sleep or left or eat since you've been, no matter for how long it have been. You feel a bit guilty at the thought.

“Don’t you dare to do that ever again,” she whispered, holding you as close as she could against her chest. One of her hands rested on your back, gripping the soft fabric of your hospital gown, while the other one was stroking your hair, “you scared me to death …” she added, and you felt really stupid for not realising that she had always cared for you, and probably always with, but you were too blinded by jealousy to see it. 

“I am… sorry,” you managed to reply in a hoarse voice, “I was scared. I wanted to show you that I can be strong too,” you whispered, “I wanted to prove that I’m worth loving,” you eventually admitted, your voice being so low that, at first, the redhead wasn’t sure if she heard correctly. It broke her heart to realise that it was her fault. You didn’t need space, you needed her by your side, and now she was here, you wouldn’t let her go, holding her as you could, not minding the pain it caused in your abdomen. 

"But my little dove, you are already the strongest person I know, you don't need to prove it anymore to anyone,” she whispered, “and I will always love you, I won’t let you doubt it,” she added, letting you go to cup your jaws with her hands. She let her thumbs brushing your forehead before she kissed it, repeating the three words you were dying to hear the past weeks again, and again, and again.

You could both feel tears running down your cheeks.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Tag list - @godhatesgoodgirls

#a spes writing #mcu fanfiction #reader insert #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff comfort #angst with comfort #angst with a happy ending #one shot #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

[suguruplsr]

ex geto as you roommate (love your work🩷🩷)

Ex suguru as your roommate!

✰ ✰ ✰ roommate!ex!suguru headcannons !

જ⁀➴ mind was racing, heart beating, thighs quivering, toes sh****** — when i saw this <3 and ty ilyyyy

,,roommate!ex!suguru x ex!fem!reader , suguru is toxic a bit , and a asshole , he brings girls over , soft sex , idk 🧍🏾‍♀️

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who you broke up with after finding out he was talking to multiple girls on campus. even a few you knew and smiled to your face while their nudes were in their messages with him. but you didn't have any choice but to stay with him, only as his roomate of course.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who finds the changes in not only how you two act with each other, but how you live together, a nuisance. his room no longer cluttered with a few of your belongings, the smell of your body wash fading away in his sheets, (he didn't wash them and his pillow case for nearly 3 weeks), your voice waking him softly, the sound of the front door closing right as he wakes up with no aroma of food, all of it was gone.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who can't handle it. hearing your voice through the thin walls, talking to some guy over the phone. he's sure he knows the guy. a goodie two-shoes with absolutely no game at all. at least in suguru's opinion. it's bewildering that the guy even got you to the point of talking to him in that oh so sultry voice that you used to use on suguru himself. even if it was directed towards him. just hearing it made his heart, and something else jump.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who starts waking up early. up at 8 am, drinking a cup coffee, (his 4th cup), with nothing but a dark pair of sweats on, and his hair messy and untied. he’d scroll through his phone, not responding to his messages of girls he hasn’t talked to after the break up. all just to see you up and ready for a good 15 minutes before you leave for nearly 12 hours, and he's sure you're not that busy, you're so cute avoiding and ignoring his existence.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who's just so nosy, and doesn't know what to do with knowing that you're actually moving on from him. so he begins to tell you little lies, "that guy? no, the really smart one. yea, he's just fucking the psychology professor for a good grade.", "i heard some guy got your number yesterday. don't worry about who told me- he has herpes!" , "did you hear about that rumor of him and his sister? yes i saw that clown kissing her” he can’t let you leave him just yet, maybe he should start threatening people?

Roommate!Ex!Suguru whose lies are just so funny to you. you know what is true and what’s not. and you also know he’s just being a huge dick. but you can’t help but indulge him just a tiny bit and cut off a few guys just to see how his eyes twinkle, with a small, “i told you so.” it makes you feel jittery, desperately wanting to just, ‘burst his bubble’, and call him out on his bull.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who begins to realize that despite you listening to his words, you aren’t as affected as he wishes you were. he knows it’s wrong to be upset that his, not-so-good, actions aren’t enough to push you over the edge. over back to him. he can still hear you talking to that one guy. you met him like a month ago and you’ve been going on dates with him every single week. he knows his ego is too big, especially to think that he’s better than some smart, preppy, cute guy. but he can’t help it.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who begins to get petty. talking to new girls and finding quick fuck buddies whose names he can’t remember. but what he eventually did, which definitely pissed you off, was bring them home. sneaking them in the house and fucking them closer to your shared wall. acting clueless when you cuss him out in the morning. you never showed your face to them though, knowing that he picks a new girl every week so it was best just avoid the temporary girls. maybe he never saves their numbers because even he finds their shrills annoying. it makes you facepalm, the dick is never that good.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who actually hooks up with one girl more than once. surprising you when she walks out his room, finding you, who was making a bowl of cereal before you get ready for work.

“And who the hell are you..?” you sigh at the sound of her snob tone. but you can’t blame her. “i’m his roomate, and i’m leaving.” short and sweet. respectful. and yet she just had to open her mouth, “of course. geto wouldn’t fuck someone like you..” she trails off under her breath, making you whip your head with a roll of you eyes. “oh please. suguru, has fucked me more times than i can count. and you aren’t going to disrespect me where i live, so good day ma’am.” you open the door, a smug look on your face as she stomps out.

“did you really have to do that..” suguru slumped out of his room with a yawn, feigned annoyance on his pretty face, but you could tell he felt rather happy from the crinkle of his eyes. you aren’t sure why he’s obviously deriving some joy from seeing you kick out one of his hoes. but it makes your lips curl in a smile. “stop having sex with girls while i’m here. plus i think her wig was slipping.” your eyes soften at the sight of him covering his croaky laugh. you follow in suite with a few chuckles as you two actually continue the conversation, talking for nearly an hour before you have to go.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who you begin to get more comfortable with compared to before. the tension between you two lessening within weeks. you two even continued having your late night horror movies, which you stopped after breaking up, or talking to each for hours about gossip that you two bring home. hell, both of you spent two hours talking about the guy you’ve been seeing, piecing up to the fact that he may have been a bad ex of some girl you knew. suguru was fairly happy when you called the guy and broke things off.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who starts to change as your friendship heals. becoming more involved in things he actually likes, cutting off on his smoking and drinking habits, getting good grades, working out. you knew he was genuine about his growth in becoming more healthy from him doing it unconsciously and without question.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru whose change slowly attracts you. its refreshing. but you knew from his glances and small intimate touches, that he still wanted you. you thought he’d be over you after nearly 5 months but you’ve decided to wait. maybe he’s caught on to your own fleeting actions? anytime you’re touching him, he makes it a mission to have your hands on him longer than they should be.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who gets bolder after a small incident of him accidentally cornering you…

“that’s the salt.” “oh..” you sigh playfully as he puts the salt back, searching for the sugar again and moving around you. you admit, it was kinda scary how his taller build just towered over you. large arms going around your head and— wait what?

pausing, you place the knife down on the cutting board and look up. suguru’s jaw was way above you, one of his long and large arms around your whole body to reach up to the cabinet as he searched for the sugar shaker. turning, you tried to move away but his other arm blocked your way.

and of course. with the way your kitchen was styled, part of the counter blocked the other side. “suguru….” your voice comes out quieter than you wish it did, so meek and quiet. “suguru..” you say it louder, making him halt and look down at you. god, you looked adorable, your eyes trying to look anywhere but him, biting your lip. gesturing to the sink, you stammer, eyes flickering up to him only to look away. “you’re kinda..” “oh- sorry”

suguru immediately moves away, watching silently as you wash your hands. he could tell how nervous you were from how you had let your hands stay in the water a little longer than needed, taking a deep breath. so cute.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who lets his hands linger on you more, sometimes guiding your body when moving around you, or helping you out. “your bonnet’s falling a bit, lemme fix that right quick.” and you know it doesn’t take that long to adjust your bonnet. you know it doesn’t take that long to get a piece of lint off you. you know it doesn’t take that long to fix your necklace. you know. yet you never speak out on it. but maybe that’s why he keeps doing it.

Roomate!Ex!Suguru who makes small innuendos when you least expect it. loving the small gasp that escapes your lips, head whipping to him with traces of your ice cream on your lips. “what? i’m just saying~” he’d tease, wiping off the ice cream and licking it off his thumb. the tension quickly easing as you slap his shoulder with a huff.

Roomate!Ex!Suguru who knows you both aren’t shy of knowing each other's bodies. but you two can’t help but act like little virgins who can’t handle being near each other without getting nervous. it’s like falling in love all over again, but with sexual tension. and it's killing him. you both know what you want so why not act on it and try again. together.

Roomate!Ex!Suguru who works you up, annoying you and turning you on all in one day only to shut you up with a kiss. which leads to both of you eventually stumbling onto the couch..

“m’so sorry baby.. should’ve been better” you huff as suguru mutters the nth apology, his feather like kisses on your neck numbing the pain of his cock sliding into to you for the first time in what feels like forever. “i know— um, oh fuck.. sugu, please, it’s okay! i..” your whimpers make suguru’s eyes lock onto you, leaving little scratches on his chest.

he was in deep. cock pushed to the hilt and right at your sweet spot. just pressing it. but he just wouldn’t move, your pussy was so tight, so he could just grind into you and he’s sure he’d cum. “s-sorry baby. i’m just so sorry n’ i can’t think. fuckin’ pussy is a-amazing..” suguru closes his eyes tight. his voice having an undertone of a whine as he slowly rocks his cock in and out of you.

“uh— mm, your so deep suguru~ just like this.. still need ta’ get used to it” your moan has a chuckle leaving his lips. both of you were in a drunk haze of sex and emotions, unable to even fuck properly. “yea? o-ok. that’s fine. but please tell me you’re gonna take me back after this. fuck. really wanna be with you again. i love you so much and—“

you cut him off like a small kiss, a ditzy smile playing on your lips, “of course you idiot. i don’t just let anyone fuck me. not on a couch of all things. a-and i love you too.” your nails dig into his shoulder at the feeling of his cock dragging in slowly. it made you feel delirious, and him leaning down to continue the kisses topped it off, speaking between them, “then i’m not fucking you. i’m making— ha, love to you..”

#jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #geto suguru #jjk #jujustu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x you #geto x reader #jjk smut #geto x black reader #geto x you #jujutsu geto #getou suguru smut #geto x y/n #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x y/n #jjk suguru #suguru x chubby reader #getou suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen suguru #headcanon

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel:

Human!Alastor x Housewife!Reader

~Understanding Asexuality~

Warnings‼️- Established relationship, angst to fluff, mentions of pregnancy, fem!reader, maybe OOC Alastor??, mentions of cannibalism but only for like one sentence.

Setting is Alastor’s time period, 1900-1930s.

A/N: I hope I did Alastor’s character justice! He might be slightly out of character?? I can’t imagine him actually getting in a relationship, I mean man is literally a serial killer- so I tried- ENJOY

~I would also like to say, I am not asexual or aromatic myself. This is just my take on Alastor’s sexuality/how he handles it. If I made any mistakes, please correct me but I tried to be as respectful as possible. I tried to do some research on the history of asexuality during the time period, but remember I am not perfect and this is a FAKE scenario with a FICTIONAL character.~

You like to think you know your husband like the back of your hand.

The two of you got married young, falling hard for the young radio host was easy. Many other maidens had, their affections for Alastor painfully obvious. All the while Alastor had no plans on perusing any of the women who fancied him. He was love blind, not really understanding the amount of people attracted to him, or why they were.

What wasn’t to like? He was an attractive young man, charming, and a true gentleman. But the idea of settling down, having to commit himself to one individual the rest of his life, didn’t appeal to him.

Especially with how tainted his brain was with his little hobbies.

He never got the special feeling everyone spoke about. Butterflies, increased heart palpitations, sweaty palms. The mere thought of it was enough to have his face contorting in mild disgust.

That opinion didn’t change when he met you. There was no ‘love at first sight’ feeling for him. You were polite and put together and that was something Alastor could appreciate. He didn’t quite understand your advances towards him. Seeing your interest towards him as friendly banter, while you saw his reactions to it as rejection.

You accepted his dismissal of your feelings, knowing you had given it your best shot. It didn’t stop Alastor from adoring your company. Whether it be on the dance floor or attending the diner you worked at. You were an incredible friend to him, nothing more.

Safe to say, Alastor didn’t suddenly catch feelings for you. There was no sudden change in his feelings.

But there were whispers

Unwanted Attention being brought on Alastor.

Gossip was high. Many mouths questioning Alastor’s true intent with you. Why was he always along side such a pretty thing without courting her? Were the two of you involved in secret affairs?

The theories grew, and while Alastor loved the attention being a radio host brought him, gossip was bad if he needed to keep his personal life under wraps. Besides, what kind of gentleman would he be if he let others tarnish your good name? Getting with you was more of an effort to fit into norms rather than it being for ‘true love’.

Slowly he showed signs of affection towards you. Holding your hand in public, taking you on more proper dates, even kissing your cheek once or twice when he saw hushed whispers from nearby crowds. The affection was sudden, but not unwelcome to you. Your feelings had never truly gone away for the radio host, and you pinned his original rejections on him being shy.

It wasn’t long after his advances he asked your official partnership. To be frank, you were easy and Alastor needed a cover. His true intentions were cruel, but you were blindsided by your longtime crush and friend being interested in you.

But you weren’t completely naïve.

While yes, you loved Alastor with all your heart, you knew in the back of your mind he had ulterior motivations. Every chaste kiss, every hand hold, every hug, felt rushed and nervous. Your whole relationship with Alastor felt fast paced, as only a few months after having the gall to ask you out, he was asking you to marry him.

It felt forced.

The feeling you tried to ignore, hoping it was just your insecurities causing the sinking feeling in your gut. You of course said yes to Alastor’s proposal. Knowing deep down you loved him and should not question if he did so in return.

Before you knew it, you were dressed in white in front friends and family, listening to wedding bells chime gleefully.

You could recall joyous laughter and dancing, talking about your soon future with the radio host whose last name you had now shared. Sharing drinks with friends to celebrate you ‘winning’ over Alastor. It all moved so fast yet you were happy with the results.

Alastor couldn’t have agreed more considering the chatter about the two of you had died down ever since his proposal. (Besides a few heartbroken maidens who heard the handsome host was officially off the market) Less eyes were on him which was good for the estranged hobbies he would indulge in.

You and Alastor moved in together and it felt like smooth sailing.

Until the next thing people expected from the two of you. That of course being children.

Alastor and you would constantly hear all about the subject from your mother, who was desperate to have some grandkids running around. At the mention of children you felt flustered and embarrassed, considering you and Alastor had yet to be intimate with one another.

It was through the subject, however, that sinking feeling returned. As your mother rambled on about grandchildren, you occasionally piped in with your own opinion. When your husband realized having children was something you actually wanted, you caught him grimacing at the idea.

The look he gave made your heart feel heavy in your chest. The sinking only worsened when he begrudgingly agreed with your mother, saying how the two of you would provide her with grandchildren with time.

Forced.

You felt guilty. You knew Alastor was lying with his words. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to seduce your husband before. It was actually something you expected to happen and for the radio host to initiate.

Alastor would be lying if he said he didn’t start to feel genuine fondness towards you. You knew him well, better than any other friend he had.

You knew his schedule, his habits, his preferences. It scared him how much you could read his mind like a book. All the reason more to keep you sheltered away from how cruel of a man he truly was.

You were simply too good for him. Too innocent.

But when it came to intimacy, the radio host showed absolutely no interest. Coming up with one excuse after another to not be intimate with you. His rejection left you feeling unwanted and almost abandoned. Your own husband didn’t seem to enjoy your affections and it hurt your heart. You started to question if you were the cause of his discomfort. Was he just not attracted to you? Were you being too pushy?

Your mind even wandered to the late nights Alastor would stay out. Was he seeing someone else, perhaps? He could have anyone he wanted really, despite your marriage, there were many women who would still flirt with him. Had one caught his eye that he favored over you?

Anxiety and insecurity riddled your body for a long time before you started to search for possible answers. After work, you would head to a library of the outskirts of town. You didn’t want anyone you knew possibly catching you wildly scanning through books for possible answers.

The library didn’t provide much comfort. You found unsatisfactory answers, many of which ended in advice on how to ‘properly seduce a man’.

You didn’t want to force your husband to be intimate with you. Making desperate attempts that would ultimately be denied as they had been in the past.

You dug a little deeper, with a lot of the same results. You were just at your wits end with all the repetitive failure to find anything that felt right. However, one article caught your eye. A book that had dusted over from the lack of acknowledgment. Out of luck you reached for it, hoping to find any answers. Reading through the contents, it opened a whole new world of terminology and knowledge about a community you didn’t know existed.

You found comfort knowing there were possibly other people like your husband. That his rejections could possibly be the cause of something else other than you. You decided to take the article home with you, along with a few others, to read into it more at home.

————————————————————————

Through your research, you had started to understand your husband’s behavior more and more. You wouldn’t truly know the answers unless you had simply asked him, but at the same time, it felt better to consider this an option than to believe something was wrong with your marriage.

There were other people who exhibited traits your husband showed when it came to intimacy. Those who didn’t enjoy such pleasures or desires. It was a spectrum, one that you had never heard of. But it all made sense the more you read into different people’s experiences.

Some people’s stories you read stated how intimacy rarely crossed their mind. Before, you had only heard stories of friends being hyper sexual, with high sex drive that would oftentimes cause high gossip. It made sense that there were bound to be people at the other end of the stick, who felt the opposite. Of course they could acknowledge it was a thing. However the need/want to experience such things would rarely and sometimes never spark. It didn’t make these people strange or less human, it was simply how they felt.

You hear the door swing open, interrupting your thoughts. You swear to yourself silently, hurrying to close the books and articles you were reading up on. You shove the disorganized papers into the large book, then shove it underneath the table, out of view. You stand, brushing off your dress, and quickly go over to the stove.

“Hi honey! You’re home early.” You shout across the house to your husband. You grab your apron, messily tying the back of it.

“Oh I finished up early today, thought you would enjoy the surprise.” Alastor’s voice responds, his footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Grabbing a pot, you fill it with water as Alastor enters the room. He approaches you, putting a finger under your chin and bringing you closer. He gives your cheek a small peck, his fingers barely grazing your hip.

Forced.

You smile towards your lover, setting the full pot over the unlit stovetop. Adrenaline runs through your veins as you watch Alastor go and sit at the table. You clear your throat, avoiding looking at your husband. You open up the cabinets, looking around for ingredients to start on supper.

“How was your day, love?” You ask, trying to be as casual as you could. Alastor caught on to your anxiety, but decided to ignore it. He hummed, adjusting his glasses on his face.

“As normal as any other, dear. There was actually quite the crazy story, today about-..” Alastor went on about his radio show and the topics he had covered. You nod occasionally to show you could hear him, but his words didn’t really process in your head. You couldn’t focus with you heart drumming in your ears. Pulling out random ingredients from the cabinets, trying to think of anything to make for dinner, Alastor continues to speak. His voice a source of comfort despite him unknowingly being the cause of your anxious behavior.

“..they apparently continued their actions anyway! Don’t these men have any class? I swear to you the nerve of… some.. folk..” You tuned back into Alastor’s rambling just as he hear him start to trail off. You hear his seat pull back, making a creaking noise as he leans back and looks under the table. Feeling his gaze on you for a moment, you don’t dare to look back at your husband. He had seen what you tried to poorly hide.

Alastor leans down, grabbing the book with articles sticking out of the side. He hums, opening the book a skimming over the contents of what he found.

“Darling, what’s all this?” He asks, eyebrows furrowing as he read through the article. Tensing at his tone, you avoid looking towards him and keep quiet. Your mind racing almost as fast as your heart. Your voice was caught in your throat, trying to come up with an excuse. Any excuse.

It takes a moment to gain your composure. Eventually you speak, after clearing your throat in an attempt to get rid of the lump stuck there.

“I was just.. doing some reading.. on uhm..” Gosh, this was embarrassing to admit. Your face flushes to pink as you continue, “I just had some concerns.. I suppose I was feeling a bit insecure about our relationship-..”

“Our relationship?” Alastor questions, staring daggers into your back. His tone showing signs of irritation and discomfort. You turn towards your husband. There was no hiding how you felt now. You couldn’t lie to him when he had the evidence in his hands.

“I.. suppose I was worried.. for my own selfish reasons. I got to wondering why you didn’t seem attracted.. to me.” Alastor glares slightly at your words, drumming his fingers against the table. He knew exactly what you meant with your words, his nose instinctively cringing up in mild disgust. He opens his mouth to speak again, but is cut off quickly by you.

“I know it’s something silly to be concerned about, it shouldn’t be a concern at all. I shouldn’t have questioned you. Dare I say it was wrong of me.” You quickly tried to explain to ease your husbands silent anger.

Alastor stayed quiet, teeth gritting as his all too fake smile cracked at the seems. He felt on edge. He couldn’t have you questioning him like this, opening him up and making him vulnerable. You made him question how well he was really hiding his true identity. You could tap in to what he was feeling and it irked him. He cleared his throat, interwining his fingers together to create a cradle for his chin to sit.

“I don’t see how your concerns are important, dear. Our relationship is fine without such activities. Do you not believe that to be true? I love you, do I not?” Alastor asked, a small smile plastered on his face.

Forced

“Do you?” You find yourself asking before you can process the question yourself. Alastor’s wide eyes make you replay your words. You gasp, covering your mouth with both hands. What were you thinking??

Both you and your husband stay quiet for a period of time, staring at each other with wide eyes. Alastor breaks his gaze, looking towards the wallpaper design in the kitchen that suddenly interested him. Your voice catches in your throat. It felt like you couldn’t speak for what felt like forever. Heavy weight on your chest when you uttered the question you’d been keeping inside since you said your I do’s.

Taking a breath to regain yourself, you look towards the stove. Scattered abandoned ingredients of what dinner was supposed to be left there. You glance towards Alastor, voice barely a whisper as you speak to him.

“I understand..” Your muttered voice doesn’t reach him, causing him to look at you and turn his head. You see him in your peripheral vision, then repeat yourself;

“I understand if you don’t.. or if you don’t want to partake in any.. intimate actions with me..” You start, grabbing a potato that had been abandoned on the counter. You start to rinse it under the sink water.

“From what I’ve read, you’re not alone. There apparently are men and women alike who don’t share an interest for sexual acts and behaviors. You’re not the only one..”

“I’m not accusing you of anything.. I’m not trying.. to make you feel bad. I just wanted to understand.. and I do. Please let me.”

Alastor stares at you while you speak. His silence feels like rejection. The same rejection you felt when you had first met him, but this was worse. Your heart ached, your chest felt tight, and your eyes felt like they were drowning in welled up tears.

You loved Alastor.

But never would you force him to return it.

You hear your husband stand from his place at the table, slow steps walking towards you. You feel his presence behind you. You silently prepare yourself for an onslaught of ‘how dare you’s and ‘who do you think you are’s.

Instead you feel warm hands hook underneath your arms, pulling you back towards Alastor’s body. Your body tenses, as you drop the vegetable you were once washing into the sink. Alastor leaned forward, resting his nose in the crook of your neck. Leaning down and hugging you tight.

Flood gates open as soft tears spill down your flushed cheeks. You gently hold onto Alastor’s arm with one hand, trying to stay perfectly still as if your husband were a stray animal. As if you move, he’d flinch away.

Alastor pulls away from your neck, looking at your face. His hand reaches up, standing straight, as he caresses one of your cheeks. He smears the tears across your cheek in an attempt to wipe them away, before leaning into you. Breath hitting yours before his lips meet yours.

Authentic

You’d never felt such a gentle and loving kiss from your husband. It felt so genuine and kind. You kiss back weakly, only hoping to make him feel the warm feeling he gave you.

Alastor never truly did understand his admiration for you. He never regretted marrying you. Of course you were always a good friend for him, one that he would work hard to keep safe. To keep you hidden away from who he was. Your happiness was always in the back of his mind as an essential. Sure he hated how you read him so easily, like it was second nature. But he hated it because if you knew the truth, you wouldn’t be safe.

He hated it because a part of him did love you.

Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor keeps you close to him, watching more soft tears fall down your face. He brings his other hand up, letting you face him while he grabs out a handkerchief from his pocket. Gently dabbing away the tears on your face, he looks at you with such soft eyes. Such genuine eyes.

“Thank you.” Is all he says. It wasn’t a satisfying answer. You wanted more than anything a long list of answers to all your worries.

But invisible weight lifts off your shoulders. Closing your eyes and letting out a breath that felt much deserved to let go. It was a solution, an answer no matter how much it truly did explain. You had made an effort to understand your husband, when most would force their ways through the barriers he set around himself. That was something Alastor could appreciate.

He never understood why you took the time in your life to be patient. Be understanding. How an angel like you ended up with the demon he was.

But he hoped you wouldn’t regret it just the way he never regretted you.

——————————BONUS———————————

“…and I told her, if she ever had a problem with him again, take it up with me! And just like that, her husband was on a platter! Such a shame, his body was almost as disgusting as his behavior!”

Alastor sipped his tea as he listened to Rosie ramble. He never broke his gaze away from her, hanging on to every word she had to say. He delicately set down his cup on the porcelain saucer. Everything about Rosie.. her charm, her personality, her humor.

It all lead back to the thought of you. Someone he admired and felt comfortable with.

“Are you alright, Al? You’re kinda gawking over there..” Rosie asked, practically seeing the gears turning in Alastor’s head. Alastor blinked out of his thoughts, watching Rosie give a smile at him and tilt her head.

“I’m fine, dear, it’s just..” Alastor glanced to the side, his signature smile softening into something genuine. “You remind me of someone.” He explained quietly.

The mention raised Rosie’s interest, ready for any gossip Alastor had to spill. She leaned in close, grinning ear to ear. “Ooo! Don’t be shy, who do I remind ya of?”

Alastor looked at Rosie and he could’ve sworn that in her midnight eyes, he could see yours. Staring back at him through his soul. How could he describe you? Someone who just knew him despite how hard he tried to hide. Someone who acknowledged him over and over again despite his own uncertainties.

“She was the dearest darling to ever grace the earth.” Alastor found himself muttering. Rosie melted at the compliment he not only gave you, but her as well. She saw genuine adoration in the radio demons eyes when he spoke of you.

While what you had with Alastor wasn’t entirely real, he wouldn’t have exchanged your marriage for anything. After all, when everyone else didn’t and refused to.

You understood.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #rosie and alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel rosie

[nellasbookplanet]

In the wake of FCG' fate I've been thinking about death in ttrpgs, and how it kind of exists on three levels:

There’s the gameplay level, where it only makes sense for a combat-heavy, pc-based game to have a tool for resurrection because the characters are going to die a lot and players get attached to them and their plotlines.

Then there’s the narrative level, where you sort of need permanent death on occasion so as not to lose all tension and realism. On this level, sometimes the player will let their character remain dead because they find it more interesting despite there being options of resurrection, or maybe the dice simply won’t allow the resurrection to succeed.

Then, of course, there’s the in-universe level, which is the one that really twists my mind. This is a world where actual resurrection of the actual dead is entirely obtainable, often without any ill effects (I mean, they'll be traumatized, but unless you ask a necromancer to do the resurrection they won’t come back as a zombie or vampire or otherwise wrong). It’s so normal that many adventurers will have gone through it multiple times. Like, imagine actually living in a world where all that keeps you from getting a missing loved one back is the funds to buy a diamond and hire a cleric. As viewers we felt that of course Pike should bring Laudna, a complete stranger, back when asked, but how often does she get this question? How many parents have come and begged her to return their child to them? How many lovers lost but still within reach? When and how does she decide who she saves and who she doesn’t?

From this perspective, I feel like every other adventurer should have the motive/backstory of 'I lost a loved one and am working to obtain the level of power/wealth to get them back'. But of course this is a game, and resurrection is just a game mechanic meant to be practically useful.

Anyway. A story-based actual play kind of has to find a way to balance these three levels. From a narrative perspective letting FCG remain dead makes sense, respects their sacrifice, and ends their arc on a highlight. From a gameplay level it is possible to bring them back but a lot more complicated than a simple revivify. But on an in-universe level, when do you decide if you should let someone remain dead or not? Is the party selfish if they don’t choose to pursue his resurrection the way they did for Laudna? Do they even know, as characters, that it’s technically possible to save someone who's been blown to smithereens? Back in campaign 2, the moment the m9 gained access to higher level resurrection they went to get Molly back (and only failed because his body had been taken back by Lucien). At the end of c1, half the party were in denial about Vax and still looking for ways to save him, because they had always been able to before (and had the game continued longer it wouldn’t have surprised me had they found a way). Deanna was brought back decades after her death (and was kind of fucked up because of it). Bringing someone back could be saving them, showing them just how loved and appreciated they are. Or it could be saving you, forcing someone back from rest and peace into a world that's kept moving without them because you can’t handle the guilt of knowing you let them stay gone when you didn’t have to. How do you know? How would you ever know?

#cr spoilers #sometimes i think about how oryms backstory has it baked in that will was magically impossible to bring back #while yasha was simply not powerful enough in either magic or connections to bring zuala back #and by the time she was years had gone by and yasha had moved on and bringing zuala back would've been cruel and selfish #similar to how deanna was brought back but now she was left behind and alone #speaking of could you ever truly move on from grief in a world like that? #how do you accept the inevitability of death when it isn’t necessarily permanent? #no wonder delilah and sylas went evil to keep each other alive #no wonder laerryn accidentally caused the calamity in trying to break through the planes #the hubris of a world like this would be UNREAL #as would the bitter feelings from everyone who knows this power exists but can’t access it bc they’re like. a farmer #critical role #long post #nella talks cr #cr3 spoilers

[jyoongim]

Heya! I found your account a couple of days ago and I am obsessed with your soft Alastor fics, they're just so beautifully written! You are crazy talented, I love your writing.

I was wondering if I could request a soft!Alastor x reader fic where Alastor does something scary like threatening someone in his big demon form, and reader witnesses it and just gets a little fright. When he finds out he's really apologetic and holding them and it's all just really fluffy.

Thank you, and have a wonderful day!

- a new anon: 🌻

🌻 anon that’s so cute! Welcome to my shit show!!!

Your request was so cute! And just what i needed to get out of writer’s block.

——————————————————————————————-

You walked beside Alastor as the two of you trailed behind Charlie as she showed Lucifer around. You  hadn’t noticed Husker behind the two of you until he called out to Alastor.

”Hey boss a word” You paused and watched as Alastor’s eye twitched. He spun his neck like owl to acknowledge the cat

”What is it?”

Husker’s eyes drifted to you and Alastor turned his attention to you “Dearest why don’t you go on ahead without me, ill catch up in a few”

You smiled and nodded, letting them have their privacy.

You hadn’t gotten too far when you heard Husker talking about Mimzy’s sudden appearance at the hotel.

”Me and you both know Mimzy only show her ass when she needs you to clean up her mess. That bitch is trouble”

you hear Alastor laugh “Don’t worry about it Husker! Its nothing I can’t handle besides who would dare cross me?”

The flickering of the hallway lights caught your attention and Husker’s yelp made you turn back.

Rounding the corner, your eyes widened as you see Husker cowering on the floor and Alastor is pissed.

He has a green chain in his hands and he’s slowly approaching Husk, wrapping the chain around his arms

”If you EVER mention that again I will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams FOR EVERY DISRESPECTFUL WRETCH WHO DARES CHALLENGE ME!”

Alastor transforms just big enough to fill the hallway and towered over the shaking cat

”Do you understand?” He tilted his head

Husker nodded frantically and in a flash Alastor was back to normal “Lovely” before he could turn around you ran.

You were shaken up. Alastor had joined you again and you couldn’t help but distance yourself from him.

You didn’t understand what had made him so angry to threaten Husker.

You had never seen Alastor upset and you didn’t like that he acted like nothing had happened.

It was rather late when Lucifer had left and everyone had gone off to do their own thing.

You usually spent your nights with Alastor in his radio tower, but you opted to be alone in your room.

A knock at your door pulled your attention from your book and the door opened to reveal Alastor.

“I thought you would be keeping me company tonight my dear” he had a soft smile on his face as he approached your bed.

You scooted away from him before he could pull you to him and he quirked his brows,  confused.

”Darlin? What’s got you so spooked?” He asked as he settled on your bed.

You felt guilty being afraid of Alastor, the Overlord had never once made you feel scared, but his actions towards Husk made you feel unsure of him.

”You scared me earlier” you said softly, fiddling with your hands. “I had overheard you talking to Husk and-and I saw you. You were scary Al”

Alastor's eyes widened.  He didn’t know you had witness him lost his composure and now you being distant the whole night made sense.

His ears furrowed against his head as he took in your nervous expression.

He reached for your hands, bringing them to his lips and letting out a soft purr to soothe you. 

You softened as you let him pull you into his lap.

”Oh my dear I’m sorry I gave you a fright. That you had to see me in such a distasteful light” he apologized nuzzling you.

You giggled as he peppered kisses all over your face.

“Just never get big and scary unless absolutely necessary” you poked his chest, trying to be stern.

Alastor let out a low laugh, nodding “I will do my best to not let my anger get the better of me”

You held out your pinky “Pinky promise”

He looped his claw around yours bringing it to his lips, bright green smoke swirling around the digits

”Deal”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor the radio demon #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel fluff #alastor fluff

[azriels-shadowsinger]

No. 13 for Azriel please ❤️❤️🤌✨

“Everything reminds me of you, it's driving me insane”

Azriel x Reader

wc: 1.4K

a/n: kinda inspired by cardan’s letters. if yall read the cruel prince series then u know. get ready for some angst yall.

prompt list

“This is the last straw Azriel. I can’t handle not being a priority in your life! You always choose Rhys, Cassian, Elain, work, or literally anything else over me. I have only seen you once in the past week, and we live together for Cauldron’s sake! I feel like I live with a ghost. You’re gone before I wake up and you return after I fall asleep!” You yell between tears. “I can’t do this anymore. I love you, but it is too painful to keep living like this.” Azriel realizes where this is headed.

“Y/n, please. I’ll be better. I promise!” He begs, desperation in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Azriel. You had your chance, multiple actually. It’s too late.” You turn away, unable to look at his heartbroken face without potentially giving in. You can feel his shadows attempting to reach for you as you walk out the door.

———

January 7th

Dear y/n,

Rhys won’t tell me where exactly you left to, but promised he would deliver this. I understand that you are angry with me and that you need some time to calm down. I hope that you will return soon so we can work this out. I love you and I’m sorry.

Sincerely,

Azriel

———

January 29th

Dear y/n,

Point taken, dear. I know I messed up, but it’s been weeks and I miss you.

I know you are getting these letters. Rhys said he ensured they would be delivered. I guess that doesn't guarantee that you will read them. Nevertheless, I am sorry for my actions and I am taking steps to create boundaries in my life so that I can have more time for you. I can prove it, if only you would just come home.

With deepest apologies,

Azriel

———

February 14th

My love,

I had hoped you would return before Valentine's Day. You always loved celebrating this holiday. I know you won’t see them, but I still got you flowers. They're on your nightstand.

It's been over a month. I miss your voice. Please come home.

Azriel

———

March 7th

Y/n,

If this is your way of punishing me, then consider it a success. I’m a wreck without you. Please come home.

-Azriel

———

March 30th,

My heart,

I am begging you to come home. Come home and yell at me, come home and fight with me, just please come home. I love you and I’m so sorry.

Always with love,

Azriel

———

May, 15th,

Y/n,

I understand what you meant about feeling like you were living with a ghost. Everything reminds me of you, and it’s driving me insane. I am haunted by these traces of you around our home. Please end this torment and come back to me.

-Azriel

———

June 7th

I’m sorry.

I love you.

Why are you doing this to me?

I hate myself for causing this and pushing you away.

Do you still love me? Do you even miss me?

Please come home I can’t take it anymore.

I love you I love you I love you I love you

I miss you.

———

Y/n,

This is my last letter. I won’t bother you anymore after this. I hope that wherever you are, you are happy. I will always regret taking your love for granted.

Eternally yours,

Azriel

———

It was another sleepless night for Azriel. He was plagued with the memories of every single time he chose something or someone else over you. He’s past the point of beating himself up over it, but rather, he considers this the worst punishment of all. Being forced to relive each memory over and over, unable to change it. Hating himself and drowning his sorrows in whiskey.

He hears a knock at the door. It’s probably Cass or Rhys, doing their weekly check on him, since he rarely leaves the house anymore. Azriel chooses to ignore them.

They knock again.

“Fuck off, I’m not in the mood tonight guys.” He barks in the direction of the door, taking another sip of his whiskey.

Another knock.

Cauldron boil him, his brothers were relentless. He was going to open the door, but only to yell at them to leave. He grumbles angrily to himself all the way to the door.

“I said I wasn’t-“ It's not Rhys or Cassian on his doorstep. Instead, he sees you, holding a stack of letters. His letters.

This is another dream, he thinks. He must have fallen asleep on the couch. When he wakes you will be gone again, having torn the rip in his heart even wider. But until then, he lets himself indulge in the dream. Azriel doesn’t hesitate for another moment before pulling you into a tight hug.

“My dreams must be especially cruel tonight because somehow I am able to smell your perfume. I can feel your heartbeat.” He mumbles, face buried in your hair. His shadows encompass you two, whispering in Azriel’s ear y/n, y/n, y/n

“This isn’t a dream, Azriel.” You say softly, pulling away to look at him and placing a gentle hand on his cheek. It takes him a moment to realize what’s happening, but as soon as he does, he pulls you back into a hug, even tighter than before. You feel hot tears fall onto your shoulder as his shadows surge around you.

“My love, my heart, my star. You came back to me.” He sobs. Your heart breaks at the pain in his voice. You had known he was probably upset about the breakup, but in an attempt to heal and move on, you never opened his letters… until last night.

After several long minutes of intense bear hugs, he finally manages to let go. Well kind of, he can’t seem to let your hand go yet.

“We should talk, Az.” You say nervously.

“I will do anything you want if it means you will stay.”

Gods, you were the worst person in the world. This poor male, who you still love desperately despite your best efforts, is so broken over you leaving.

“I’m not going anywhere, Az.” You reassure him. He finally loses a small bit of tension in his shoulders a the words, but his hands seem to hold tighter. You take a deep breath, trying to prepare for what you have to say.

“I didn’t read your letters until last night. I was trying to get over you, and so I avoided reading them. In an attempt to move on, I had convinced myself you were happy without me. But I couldn’t move on. I couldn't stop loving you. When I finally read your letters, I realized you truly had changed. I should’ve read them months ago. I should've never left. I’m so sorry Azriel. I understand if you need time or if you can’t forgive me but-“ He cuts you off.

“I forgive you. I don’t need time. I only need you here.” He’s so quick to dismiss every mistake you made, it breaks your heart. It will take a long while to reassure him that you aren’t ever leaving again, maybe a lifetime, but that’s okay.

You take notice of his dark circles and how skinny he has gotten. Gods, has he eaten at all since you left, you wonder.

“Let me make us some dinner, then we can talk more, okay?” Azriel nods and reluctantly lets go of your hand, following you to the kitchen like a lost puppy.

———

After several long hours of tears and brutal honesty, you and Azriel lay in your bed, embracing each other.

You spent the next week holed up in the house, reconnecting and reigniting your love for each other. You even took extra time to apologize to his shadows. They were very happy that you were back and made sure to show you so.

True to his word, Azriel never took your love for granted for as long as you both lived. And true to yours, you never left again.

I think I may do this prompt again later with someone else in more of a rivals to lovers type scenario, but I kinda just felt like this was fun for this one and wanted to try it idk

prompt list

taglist: @fxckmiup

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #my writing

[despairots]

━━━━━━━━ in another another dimension.

1610! miles morales x gn! spiderman! reader x 42! miles morales. angst, and sorta fluff?? also spoilers if u havent seen the movie yet, shit writing since i havent wrote in a long time 👎

where miles morales was your boyfriend and died in your dimension ‘cause you couldn’t save him in time after he was pushed off a building. where earth 1610 & earth 42, you’re dead ‘cause you got pushed off a building.

you couldn’t save him in time. by the time you saw his figure disappear from the ledge of the building, you were already frozen in spot, seeing as if the love of your life was gonna die and it was because of you.

even though you caught him by the chest with one of your webs, the recoil already impacted his head and back, causing him to die. you couldn’t apologize to him after the argument you two had.

“miles… i am so sorry. please wake up. wake the fuck up, miles! this isn’t funny. please tell me i’m dreaming, please tell me you’ll wake me up from a nightmare like before. please, i can’t lose you too…”

he always would wake you up and comfort you after a nightmare, he wouldn’t do that anymore. he would always whisper sweet things in your ear that always made you blush, he wouldn’t do that anymore.

nothing that was only exchanged between the two of you wouldn’t happen anymore, nothing. it was meaningless to you, you missed him. it was obvious to everyone.

your parents, friends, miles’s parents, classmates, teachers, schoolmates. they all knew how much you cherished eachother, how much you couldn’t keep living without eachother.

when he needed you the most, you weren’t there. you weren’t able to save him in time. maybe you could this time, saving him from a hundred other spider people.

EARLIER.

“this your friend, gwen?” a familiar voice was heard behind you making you quickly turn around, your spider sense going off. “miles?” “[name]?” the two of you spoke at the same time, jaw dropped and eyes widened.

“this was the surprise you meant, gwen.” all guilt that you thought you buried long time ago was to much to handle when you saw him, the same beauty that he had when you he died in your universe.

you couldn’t help but hug him tightly, face buried into his chest, he was always taller then you. miles jumped a little bit before hugging you back, his face buried on top of your hair.

you were restraining yourself for crying, small sniffles came from you as you could see gwen lightly smiling at the two of you. embarrassment was the only thing that made you pull away.

“sorry! i— um, have a miles morales in my dimension b - but he died.” you stumbled upon your words, blush on your cheek as miles blinked at you. “it’s fine. i have a you in my dimension but they — uh, died.”

miles nervously chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. it was awkward between the two of you, completely embarrassed that you hugged eachother even though you technically knew eachother too.

when you think about it, maybe you could save him this time… from millions of spider people and being thrown to his earth with him.

EARTH ???.

miles told you to wait in the living to talk to his mother, brooklyn was totally wrecked on his earth. spiderman was gone for just two days or maybe more and brooklyn looked like hell.

it didn’t feel right, you felt uneasy. it felt to surreal, to unrealistic in your opinion. you turned invisible when you saw mrs. morales, miles’ mother, walk out of his room, laughing.

he tried speaking to her before getting cut off by glitching, scaring you. ‘he’s in the wrong dimension.’ miles and you shared a look, signifying the look of terror.

‘the spider that bit him… it wasn’t from his dimension. miguel was right… he was never meant to be spiderman.’ the door creaked open, revealing the man who thought had died in miles’ dimension.

the two chattered, his uncle taking him to the roof as miles looked at you and gestured to follow him. it was shocking, to say the least, watching the two look at a mural.

your eyes widened at the art, instead of miles’ uncle dead, it was his dad and you. until then, you realized, you were always going to die in ever dimension but yours.

no matter how many times, no matter how many dimensions, the universes were working together to stop you and miles from every getting together.

that’s why miles died in yours, you dying in miles, and you dying in this world too. the universes never wanted you two to get together, maybe it was because of the saying:

in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spiderman.

you were too lost in thought that you didn’t realize miles was knocked out until your spider senses tingled, reflexes making you dodged the incoming punch.

your hood (from your black sweater that you wore over your suit) flipped off, revealing the tight frown and scowl on your face. “what the f— miles…” you whispered the last part, seeing him on the floor.

something was poked into your neck, injecting you with something and forced you to sleep. losing authority over your body, you fell to the ground, unbothered by it.

your body didn’t touch the ground, that’s the thing, someone caught you in time. they cradled you softly in their arms, watching your eyes blink in and out if reality before completely closing.

aaron scoffed at his nephew, “that’s not the [name] you knew, they ain’t yours.” his nephew mumbled a yes, watching you sleep with the beauty you still had when you died.

your fingers were twitching, a small habit that you always had when sleeping. he missed you, he missed you so damn much.

and when he saw your face when your hood flipped over, he felt like he got a second chance to be with you.

but when he looked over at the other miles that was over his uncle’s shoulder, he felt hatred. he didn’t want to risk you to his other counterpart, he didn’t want to lose you, again.

and that was the same feeling 1610 miles felt, he didn’t want to lose you again. and for sure, you felt that way too.

#kaz. 💫 #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #1610 miles #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #spiderman reader #angst #fluff #character death #1610 miles morales #42 miles morales #earth 42 #earth 1610 #earth 42 miles morales #earth 1610 miles morales