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gay-wh0re-slut · 7 months

Note

When I say angst I mean I’ve read all of your work twice and it’s sooooo good

I need it

OOOHHHHH!!! thank you so so much then! lemme think lemme think!! i hope this one will suit your needs hehe but i’m gonna do just angst w happy ending no smut bc i’m afraid i’m repeating myself so enjoyyy

Just Lovely

rhea x fem!reader

content: just angst, but happy ending! with a kiss probably!

The Feud, everyone called it. You and Rhea had hated each other since the minute you met. Unfortunately, you had some matches against her but the chemistry or lack of made for a good show, so they kept scheduling you to fight. You hated it. You always wanted to stay professional though, so you didn’t want to actually hurt her in the ring, just her ego. You were the complete opposite of her style, girly, flowery, pastels, but you became a heel for her only. Everyone ate it up.

Without requesting, the PA’s would make sure that you were on the completely opposite side of the locker room or in different ones entirely depending on the venue. Neither of you were sure why you hated each other but you didn’t have the will power to figure it out.

One day, the producers told you that you needed to fix the feud for the storyline. You refused of course and you assumed she did too.

“The people want to see the two of you kiss and makeup, essentially,” they said.

“I would rather never see her again, to be honest with you,” you fired back.

“Unfortunately, that can’t happen.”

“Unless she comes to me herself and says that she wants to, which I doubt she will with that big head of hers, I will not ‘kiss and makeup’ for the sake of the story line,” you cross your arms.

The men sighed as they nodded and walked away.

“Do I really have a big head?” the annoying accent said behind you.

You’re kidding, you thought. You turn around with your jaw clenched, rolling your eyes, “you win every match, how can you not?”

“Guess they asked you to play nice, huh?” she walked towards you.

You put your hand up to stop her from coming any closer, “yes.”

She stopped right at your hand, centimeters from her chest. You pull your hand away immediately, what was that about, you thought as your stomach turned.

“And what if I did want to stop ‘the feud’, would that be so bad?” she smiled.

“You’ve hated me the moment I got signed, why would you change now?”

“For the fans…everything I do is for them,” she sounded sincere, but you couldn’t help rolling your eyes.

“Oh shut up, you’re here because you bring in the big bucks, not because of-”

“Don’t start,” she growled.

“Did I pinch a nerve?” you pouted.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them,” she admitted.

You felt a soft spot forming for her but you pushed it down, “I don’t have time for this, I have the first match,” you walk away.

The show came and went, but you couldn’t stop thinking about her. She consumed your thoughts, she made you shake and see red anytime you thought of her. It was exhausting, honestly. Part of you wanted to stop this whole thing so that you could rest but it brought you more fame, and unfortunately you wouldn’t be where you are without The Rhea Ripley.

“Hey…uhm, Rhea wants to see you,” the PA was nervous, “I can tell her no, no problem, though she is pretty scary but I can do it.”

“Did she tell you what she wanted?” you were packing your bag.

“N-no, I didn’t get that far,” they were wringing their hands.

You sigh not wanting to scare them more, “It’s okay,” you reassure, “where is she?”

“In locker room 12.”

“Thank you,” you gave a weak smile and walked out of the locker room. You heard them sigh with relief behind you.

So you started making your way across the arena, it felt like. You racked your brain to figure out what she could possibly want. Does she actually want to go through with this? Does she have an ultimatum? Does she want to beat the shit out of me? All these thoughts ran through your head.

You knocked on the door and let yourself in without a response.

“Glad to see you got the stick out of your ass to come here,” she snickered.

“What do you want, Rhea?” you stood just inside the door with your hands on your hips wanting this to be over as soon as possible.

“To talk,” she gestured to the chair, “Is that okay?”

You squinted at her to try to figure out the game she was playing. You stood for a good minute before you decided to sit. You threw your duffle beside the chair as you sat down. You crossed your legs and your arms as you leaned back.

“Thank you,” she sat across from you leaning herself on her knees.

“Psh,” you rolled your eyes.

“About the storylin-” she started.

“I already said no,” you interrupted.

“And I would much rather not do it either, but I’m trying to be the bigger person here, princess,” she mocked.

Your stomach turned again, “For a heel, you’re too nice sometimes, you know that?”

“It’s a curse…anyway,” she leaned back, “I think we should do it.”

“Why?”

“Because we’ll get more attention. In turn, getting more of the women involved, and you know how we’ve been treated,” she seemed to be quite nice but somehow it made you dislike her more.

“I guess so,” you started to swing your leg, “what’s in it for you? There’s always a catch.”

“When has there ever been a catch with me?”

“Oh c’mon, you can’t be anywhere without your puppy dog Dom following you around on and off screen. He brings you more attention than you could on your own,” your tone was pointed.

“Don’t bring Dom into this, this isn’t about him,” she leaned herself back towards you with a point before leaning back again.

“Whatever,” you turn your head away.

“There is no catch, I’m serious. This would be better for both of us.”

You let that sit in the air for a moment before she spoke again.

“Why do you hate me so much?” her voice was small.

You looked back towards her rubbing your tongue over your teeth before you opened your mouth, “I don’t want to get into this,” you start to stand up.

“Please,” she grabbed your wrist.

You’re shocked at her reaction, your stomach turning again. You ripped your hand away from her grip. You stood for a moment contemplating whether or not you should tell her the truth or make something up. So you decide to ask, “Do you want the TV answer or the truth?”

She shrugged as she gestured towards you, letting you choose. She leaned back once more.

You look at your phone for the time, unfortunately it wasn’t as late as you thought it was so that excuse was out. “Fine,” you didn’t sit back down though. “I hate you because I can’t beat you.”

She chuckled, “You’re serious?”

“…Yes.”

“You’re lying. Now I want the truth, because that was obvio-”

“Please shut up,” you rest your head in your hand. You look back at her as she’s smirking, your heart begins to beat faster, “I- yeah, no I can’t do this right now. We have a plane to catch tomorrow.”

You grab your bag and head for the door. Somehow she beats you to it and closes it, basically pinning you to the door. Your breath hitched and your stomach turned. Only now did you realize that it wasn’t sickness, it was butterflies, dammit.

“I want to know. I want to know what I did wrong so I can fix it. If I hurt you, I’m sorry. I’m tired of fighting off camera, you’re the only person who seems to not like me and I want to know why…please,” she admits.

Your breathing was heavier and you didn’t have much air left. You ducked under her arm and went back to the chair leaning your hands on the back of it. She turns to face you, not getting closer.

“Fuck…Damn it,” you said under your breath, “fine!” you threw your hands up in surrender. You were tired of fighting too, you guessed now would be the time to tell her because obviously you didn’t have to balls to start the conversation. “I’m jealous of you.”

“What?”

“I’m jealous of you! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Well…no,” she leaned against the door with her arms crossed.

“Well, I am. You’re so popular, and strong, and your fans absolutely adore you, they’d do anything for you. You get everything you want here and more! It’s ’Monday Night Mami’ for crying out loud,” your face was red and you could feel the tears starting to form but you pushed them back.

She let you continue.

“Even Triple H loves you, the writers love you, everyone loves you. I get jack shit when I walk into the ring. I’ve tried everything to get people to like me, I’m the girly girl who hates you because we’re complete opposites,” a single tear fell down your face, “I’m tired of being compared to the other girls. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m jealous okay, that’s why I… don’t like you.”

She stared at you for a minute before she grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter and handed it to you.

“And you’re too nice,” you added.

“Well that I can vouch for but the rest?” she lifted your chin to wipe the tear away, “I worked my ass off to get here, that’s why people love me I like to believe. Nothing was handed to me though it may seem like it. Like I said earlier, everything I do is for my fans, seriously, if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be pushing myself to be better.”

“God this is embarrassing,” you sniff.

“It isn’t, I’m glad you’re telling me,” she rubbed your shoulder.

You gave her a weak smile before brushing off her hand and stepping away from her, “that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to change the storyline.”

“Not even for one match?”

“No,” you crumble up the tissue, “being mean to you on camera is too fun,” you giggled.

“Right,” she sighed dramatically, “it would be a shame if we became best friends and won the tag team titles though.”

“Don’t dangle that in front of me,” you point.

“The writers love a redemption arc,” she kept going.

“Stop it,” you begin to smile.

“Or maybe, we could kiss and makeup on camera for our next match instead of fighting?” she swayed towards you.

“W-we could do that,” the butterflies in your stomach were sprinting. Her eyes were filled with hunger, her stance was powerful.

“Or,” you hoped this was her last suggestion, “we could kiss and makeup right here?” she brushed a strand behind your ear.

You backed away, “What?”

“Oh, c’mon, you don’t think the jealousy was a cover up for the crush you have on me? Even subconsciously?” she smirked.

“I do not have a crush on you,” you lied.

“So if I did this,” she cupped your cheek, “You don’t feel anything?”

Your face got hot and heart beat faster than it ever has before, “Nope,” you lie again.

“Well,” she dropped her hand, “That’s a shame. We could’ve been WWE’s It couple,” she sighed.

“D-Do you have a crush on me?” you asked surprised at your realization.

“No, I just wanted to mess with you,” running her hands through her beautiful jet black hair, you watched as her arms muscles tensed and released with every movement, “yes I have a crush on you, idiot.”

You shook yourself from your gaze, “Are you serious?”

“I don’t care if people hate me,” she scoffed, “but I do care if I hurt somebody, so that part was true. I didn’t want you to hate me because I don’t hate you.”

“I’m so confused right now,” you rub your eyes, “what do you mean you have a crush on me?”

“I. Like. You,” she took a step closer to you with every word. “It’s not hard to understand.”

“But I’ve been so mean to you.”

“I like a mean girl every once in a while,” she smirked. She was now standing in front of you looking down into your eyes. You weren’t much shorter than her but enough to where it made your knees weak.

You couldn’t say anything, you were in shock.

She lifted your chin again to make full eye contact with you, “Now, can I kiss you or no?”

You slowly nodded your head.

“You sure?”

You nodded your head more seriously this time.

She cupped your face with both hands and brought her lips to yours. Fireworks went off in your head, you couldn’t believe this was happening. Your lips danced against hers perfectly as your hands brought her waist into yours. Your heads tilting in sync, from one side to the other, you didn’t want to let go.

Sadly, she let go, “so,” she breathed, “my room or yours?”

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #hate to love

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annepsilvaauthor · 7 months

Text

Sally: You're obsessed with this guy, Betty!

Elizabeth: Of course not! I'm just saying that...

Sally: He's insufferable and blah, blah, blah...you've said it a thousand times. But you know what, if he was really so unbearable you wouldn't have kissed him!

Elizabeth: I was drunk!

Sally: The second time you weren't.

Elizabeth: He kissed me forcibly.

Sally: And the third time?

*Elizabeth threw a pillow in Sally's face and left the room thinking about the other times she didn't tell her friend*

Summer Nights (2024)

Glen Powell & Monica Barbaro

Gifs multiple vias, one of those is from @natashatrace . The other ones a I don't remember where they're from 😓. If the gifs' owners are around here, please don't be mad at me. I'll take you all the credits 🙏

#top gun maverick #monica barbaro #glen powell #natasha trace #jake seresin #hannix #jake hangman seresin #top gun cast #hannix au #monglen #summer nights #romcom #shoud I actually write this story?#hate to love #hot hot hot #anyone but you #at midnight

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munsonxmayhem · 2 years

Text

Show Me How Much You Hate Me.

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings:

- angst

- smut

- fluff

——————————————————————————

“Uncle Wayne! No way!” Eddie exclaims, exiting his room after his uncle. Wayne just puts his hand up in dismissal. “She’s coming. End of story.” He states and Eddie huffs in frustration, stomping back to his room and slamming the door.

You and Eddie hadn’t gotten along for as long as you’d known each other, never actually sure of why. You were Wayne’s close friends’ daughter, and he’d grown up with you. It all started out as little jests, but the older you two had gotten; the more serious it had gotten, never being able to last 5 minutes in each others presence without a full on war starting. It had been about 5 years since he’d seen you, after Wayne’s friend had moved to a bigger city with more job opportunities.

Eddie heard his door creaking open, not bothering to flip over and face it. “Hey, kid.. I’m sorry, ok?” Wayne says softly from the doorway and Eddie sighs, flopping over to look at him.

“Why is she coming here, anyways? Doesn’t she have an apartment?” Annoyance laced Eddie’s voice as he stared over at his uncle.

“She did, yes. The building got sold, and the new owners raised her rent; so now she can’t afford to live there. John would’ve let her come stay with him again, but he just doesn’t have the space, so I told him she could crash here until she found a new place.” Wayne explained.

Eddie almost felt sympathetic for you, having heard from Wayne how good you were finally doing for yourself.. But he brushed it away easily, remembering how he’d felt about you.

After a couple hours, the sun about to set, Eddie heard a knock at the door. His heart raced with realization that you were here. He heard Wayne open the door, exclaiming happily at your presence, making Eddie roll his eyes.

“Eddie! Get out here!” He heard him yell and groaned loudly, dragging himself from the mattress and out into the hall. Your back was turned, talking to Wayne with your bags at your feet. He tentatively walked into the room, heart hammering loudly in his chest.

That’s when you turned to look at him, eyes bright as your eyes connected with his. “Hi, stranger! Long time, no see.” You grinned, laughing a bit. Eddie huffs, shaking his head as he muttered a quick, “Not long enough..” Your brows furrowed, just barely hearing what he’d said. “Right! Well, uh..” You return your attention back to Wayne, “Thank you, again.. For letting me crash here.” You bring your hand up, rubbing the back of your neck nervously.

“Of course! I work nights, so the rollaway is free and as long as you’re up and out of my bed at 6 am, it won’t be a problem! Unless, of course.. Eddie would like to share his room?” Wayne looked at Eddie pleadingly, hoping that he wouldn’t have to make you get up at 6 every morning and wander about.

Wayne clears his throat, bringing Eddie’s burning gaze off of the back of your head and in his direction instead. “W-What?” Eddie stammers, and you glance back at him. “Would you be willing to share your room? So that she doesn’t have to get up at 6 every morning so I can sleep?” Your eyes are filled with worry as you look between them, “I-It’s okay! I don’t mind getting up, but if you’d let me sleep on your floor, Eddie, that would be great.. Just less of a hassle.”

Eddie’s eyes flick from yours to Wayne’s, and he anxiously rubs his hands on his jeans; you take notice, remembering that he always used to do that out of nervousness. “Y-Yeah, that’s fine. You can crash on my floor.” Eddie states quietly, not enthused but trying to help Wayne out.

“Great! Would you like to show her where she can put her stuff?” Wayne asks, hands clapping together. Eddie nods, reaching for the front door immediately.

“Of course! The dumpster is this way.” Eddie states and Wayne gasps. Eddie let’s go of the door handle, holding his hands up defensively. “I’m kidding!” He says, waving for you to follow him. You nod, grabbing your bags and following him slowly.

He brings you into his room, and you immediately gaze around at all the posters, and guitars. He sees your gaze, clearing his throat. “You can put your shit here. There’s a few extra blankets and pillows in the closet in the hall. Go nuts.” He states plainly, and you nod. “Thank you..” You trail off, dropping your bags by the window. You watch as he plops down onto the bed, long legs stretched out.

He looks different than he did when you’d last seen him, his hair is longer and unruly, he has tattoos peeking out of his sleeves and collar.. He looks good, grown up; though he still has the same scowl he always had when you were around. He rolls his eyes as he looks toward you, and you quickly avert your gaze back to your things.

“See something you like?” He says condescendingly, and you shake your head quickly. “Nope, just haven’t seen you in years.” You state casually, starting to unpack your things.

As much as Eddie swore he loathed you, he couldn’t help as he discreetly watched as you made your bed on the floor; shaking out the blankets as you laid them out. He took notice of your changes, your hair was longer, you grew out of your polos and into band tees, and you seemed.. nicer?

You’d taken notice of his gaze, as discreet as he thought he was, but you decided against calling it out; wanting to keep the peace. Just as you put down the pillows, Wayne opens the door slowly.

“Alright, kids. I’m off to work now, I’ll be back in the morning. I don’t want to return to a dead body, ‘kay?” He glances between both of you, knowing how awful you guys used to be to each other. Eddie nods, looking back down at his notebook. Wayne gives you a sympathetic smile as he exits.

An uncomfortable silence falls across the room as Wayne leaves for work; you making yourself comfortable in your makeshift bed. You grab one of your bags, rustling through it mindlessly at your things.

“Do you mind?” Eddie sighs, referring to your rattling. You shake your head, “Sorry..” You place the bag back over against the wall. After a few moments, you start to get bored again, laying back with a huff as you look up at the ceiling for a few moments.

You sit up suddenly, reaching in your bag and grabbing a towel and some pajamas. “I’m gonna shower.” You say, grabbing your towel and making your way into the bathroom quickly. You let out a deep sigh of relief as the hot water flows down your body, relieving your body of the anxiety that has grown since your arrival.

You step out of the shower drying yourself off before you realize.. fuck. You creek open the door a bit, just enough to lean your head out. “Eddie! I forgot my clothes! Can you bring them?” You yell and hear a ‘no, busy!’ through the bedroom door. You groan in aggravation, wrapping the towel around yourself the best you could before making your way to the bedroom.

You slam the door open angrily, stomping in and grabbing your clothes. Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of you wrapped in an.. incredibly small towel, just barely covering your ass, his breath hitching slightly. “Asshole.” You mutter, returning to the bathroom to change.

When you return, you notice Eddie is fully under the covers now, glaring up at the ceiling above him. He takes a quick glance, instantly regretting it when he sees you in a worn Dio shirt, and skin tight, cotton short shorts. He lets out a shaky breath as he rolls over on his side, facing away from you.

You pay him no mind as you finish towel drying your hair, deciding to mess around a bit as you toss the wet towel over him. “What the f-“ He gasps, before grabbing the towel off of him and shivering. “Literally why?” You giggle in response and his chest tightens at the sound. “It’s not funny, act your age.” You laugh even harder at his comment, reaching over and taking the towel. “ ‘m sorry, I had to.” Your laughter eases up, and you plop down onto the floor, with a hard ‘thud’.

“Ow!” You groan, the floor beneath hitting your tailbone harshly. “Jesus christ..” Now it’s his turn to laugh, keeping his back turn as it heaves with his deep chuckles and you can’t help but to smile at the sight. You’ve never really heard his laughter before. “Serves you right.” He giggles, and you roll your eyes. “Whatever, Munson.”

Both of you fall back into silence, and you hear Eddie rustling around on the bed. You lean over to your small bag beside you, grabbing something before glancing over at him. “Eddie?” He groans, “What?” You sigh, trying to keep your composure. “You smoke?” You ask simply, holding up a joint to his view from beside the bed.

“Since when did you, Miss Goody-Two Shoes?” You let out a breathy laugh, before lighting the joint. You stand up as you inhale, sitting half way on the bed as you hand him the joint. “I’m not that girl anymore.” You state, and he tentatively takes the joint. He glances over at you briefly, before bringing it to his lips. You can’t help but watch the way his full, pink lips part as he takes it between him; your breath hitching slightly.

He coughs a bit as he exhales, handing it back to you. “Jesus..” His voice is raspy as he looks at the joint. You giggle, “Yeah.. City shit is no joke. Makes the stuff in Hawkins seem like lawn clippings.” You take another hit, your body relaxing a bit more into the bed. Your body is buzzing with the proximity, and the fact that you guys haven’t strangled each other yet from being in the same room for this long.

You both pass the joint back and forth a bit, until you’re both relaxed and loose from the high. You found yourself laid back against his pillows, a few inches of space between both of you as your leg dangles off the edge of the bed. “Fuck, man.. City shit is good shit.” He states, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

You hum in agreement, before spotting an ashtray on the side table next to him. Without thinking or realizing, you’re stretching over him; body hovering over his chest as you ash the joint out. His heart races as he takes in your scent, floral and soft. His hands tense at his sides as your shirt rides up a bit, revealing just a bit of your side and stomach as you return back to the other side of the bed.

He looks down at the blanket before back at you, “Okay. Get back down there, don’t want you in my bed for longer than necessary.” He spits, flipping back over. Your eyes widen, stunned at his sudden aggravation with you. “I-..” You shake your head, deciding now was the time to ask.

You stay in your spot, staring down at his back that faces you. He notices you’re unmoving, sighing. “What’re you-“ You cut him off immediately.

“Why do you hate me?” His heart just about stops, you’d known each other for the longest time and this was never a question to be had between you two; not audibly anyways.

“Just do.” You sigh, deeply at his response. “Don’t act as if it’s not mutual, we’ve hated each other since we met; it’s not that big of a deal.” He still hasn’t turned to you, and your chest aches as you finally hear him admit to his hatred for you; regretting even asking the question.

Your voice comes out shaky as you look down at your hands, “I’ve never hated you..” You whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear, and his silence makes you think he didn’t. You slowly remove yourself from his bed, crawling back down onto the hard floor, with only a couple blankets to keep you off of it. As you lay there in silence, you start feeling your heart hammering in your chest; anxiety flooding your body as you realize that not only does Eddie actually hate you, that you felt the exact opposite.

You stand suddenly, causing Eddie to jump slightly. He turns as you hide your face from him, closing the door behind you as you stomp out into the dark living room. Eddie’s stomach drops in realization of what he’d done, yanking the blankets from his body as he stands quickly. “Shit..” He mutters to himself as he makes his way out to you.

His eyes soften slightly as he sees you sat on the small sofa, head in your hands as you stay quiet. He approaches you slowly, his hand reaching out to you before he pulls it away. “(Y/N)? Hey..” His voice is soft, the softest he’s ever spoken to you. No annoyance, no condescending tone; just gentle.

You shake your head, sighing to yourself. You feel him sit down next to you, still not being able to bring himself to touch you. “Look at me.” He urges, gently and you roll your eyes, lifting your gaze to his. He can see that you were ready to cry, the high only heightening your emotions and anxiety. His eyes search yours frantically, not knowing what to say.

You speak before him, voice cracking immediately. “Why do you hate me, Eddie?” Your voice is thin and weak as you keep the tears at bay. He shakes his head, his gaze falling to his hands. His heart is beating so loud he’s almost sure you can hear it, chewing on his lip as he thinks quietly.

“I-I don’t hate you..” He admits, and you chuckle sarcastically. He looks over at you, and you glance at him. “Yeah.. You do.” You state, shaking your head. He doesn’t know how to show you he doesn’t hate you, so with the mix of the high and the adrenaline in his body, he does something he never thought he’d do.

His hands cup your face, his lips pressing to yours causing a surprised squeak to leave your throat, before you give in; lips molding with his perfectly. After a few moments you realize what’s actually happening, your body stiffening as you pull back quickly. “What the fuck was that?!” You exclaim, shocked. His eyes widen, and he stammers; no longer able to form words.

You huff loudly, stomping back to his room to go to bed. You hear him start for the bedroom, his eyes darting everywhere but at you as he enters. “I-I’m sorry..” He says quietly, and you turn around to face him. “Are you kidding me, Eddie?” You begin, anger lacing your voice as you step closer to him. He finally looks up, eyes soft and worried as he sees you.

“You treat me like shit for all of these years, tell me you hate me and act like my presence is a torturous displeasure from hell, and then you kiss me?” He flinches at your words, and the venom that laced them. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes. He just looks down at his feet as he makes his way back to his bed.

You follow him, feet harsh against the floor. “Look, I’m sorry…” He starts, not turning to you. “It was a mistake.” He finishes and you feel the anger building again. “A mistake? You know what? Fuck you, Munson.” You’re surprised at your own hateful words, but can’t seem to stop them. He turns around and looks you in your face, his jaw clenched tightly as he shoots daggers through you.

“Yes. A mistake.” He states.

“I fucking hate you.” It comes out softer than anticipated, and you can’t help but to look down at his lips momentarily. He notices it immediately, like he’s always noticed everything with you.

“I hate you, too.” He whispers, his eyes now on your lips. You make the move this time, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck as your lips crash against his, the kiss quickly turning desperate and hungry. You push him back, the back of his knees hitting the bed and causing him to tumble down on his back, you on top of him. You break the kiss, your lips traveling down to leave hot, wet, open mouthed kisses against his jaw and neck.

“Yeah? You hate me? It that why you got hard when I came in wearing a towel? Hm?” He groans, his hands gripping your waist tightly. “You did that on purpose, huh? Curious to what I’d look like without my clothes?” He whimpers in response as your teeth bite down lightly on his pulse point.

The smirk is wiped off your face as you feel his hand dive into your shorts, his fingers running through your folds. “Yeah? Who’s got you so wet, sweetheart?” His tone is condescending as hell, but you can’t help the desperate moan that falls from your mouth. He uses your distraction to his advantage, his hands gripping your hips and putting you on your back beneath him. You gasp as your back hits the mattress, eyes wide as you look up at him.

“Didn’t really think you had the upper hand here, did you?” He smirks and you bite your lip. “Maybe I didn’t want it, after all.. You’re the one who hated me first. Guess I just want you to show me just how much you hate me.” He groans at your words, leaning down into your neck and placing sloppy kisses to the skin; your legs wrapping around his waist as you feel his straining erection through his pajama pants.

“You know most people start to hate the things they can’t have, right?” His voice is hoarse with lust, causing your thighs to squeeze around his hips. “Yeah? So why’d you hate me then?” You breath out, pushing your hips up against him, feeling the length of his shaft against your slit through your shorts.

“Because I couldn’t..” He grinds his hips down against you roughly, the friction against your clit making you whimper loudly. “…fucking have you.”

“You could’ve..” You breath out as he continue rocking his hips against you. You gasp loudly as he bites your neck hard, his hand gripping your hip roughly. “Fuck..” He groans, the heat from his breath sending chills across your body.

You reach down, yanking at the hem of his pants for him to take them off. He obliges, standing to yank of his shirt and pants as you rid yourself of your clothing. His cock throbs at the sight of your bare body in his bed, your thighs clenched as you watch the pre-cum glisten at his tip. He kneels back down on the bed, prying your thighs apart as his eyes flick from your cunt to your eyes. You whine, trying to pull him up to you.

“Not right now..” You sigh, “Waited too long, need you inside of me.” Your sentences are broken, the lust clouding your brain. He smirks, crawling back on top of you. He wraps his fingers around his shaft, rubbing the tip between your folds to gather your slick. He taps it against your clit a few times, making your hips twitch. “E-Eddie, fuck, please don’t tease right now.”

“What do you want, baby?” He inquires, nudging his head at your entrance. “Oh my god, please fuck me.” You inhale sharply before you both let out a loud moan, his cock burying deep inside you in an instant. You feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes at the sheer size of him, a perfect balance of long and thick.

“Shit..” He breathes out shakily, thrusting slow and deep. You wrap your arms around his back, pressing him to you and bringing your lips to his ear.

“Eddie? You’re fucking me like you’re in love with me..I said.. show me how much you hate me..”

He growls deeply at your words, bringing his hand to your thigh and looping his arm around as he brings it up on his waist. As soon as you’re at the angle he wants you in, his cock starts driving into you harshly, his pace relentless as moans and cries of pleasure leave your lips. His head falls back into the crook of your neck, his groans and heavy breathing muffled into your skin.

“Oh my go— Just like that!” You cry out, nails raking down his back before your fingers dig into his hips. He brings his lips back to yours, kissing you hard and rough to match his thrusts. “I fucking hate you..” He grunts against your lips, and the words go straight to your core, causing you to clench around him. He hisses at the feeling, smirking against your lips.

“I hate you.. I hate you.. Oh my god I fucking hate you..” You whine out and he chuckles, leaning his forehead to yours. “You may hate me, but your pussy fucking loves me, sweetheart..” He taunts, his muscles quivering as he holds himself up with one arm.

Between his filthy words, and his sharp thrusts into your g-spot, you feel the knot start building in your abdomen; your breathing getting heavier as you crawl closer to your release. He watches as your eyes roll into the back of your head, smirking to himself. He leans in close to your ear, his hot breath fanning it.

“You gonna cum already, baby?” You nod fervently, unable to form words as you clamp your teeth down on your bottom lip. He picks up his pace, his release catching up to yours; his hand moves from your thigh, to between you two, pressing his fingers to your clit and rubbing tight circles. “F-fuck!” You nearly scream as you feel the pleasure coursing through you, the knot holding on by a thread.

“Fuck.. Tell me you hate me, baby.” He groans, and you whimper. “I hate you. I hate you so fucking much.” You say breathlessly, and that’s when your knot breaks; your head spinning as the waves crash over you, the arousal spilling from around his cock as you come undone completely. He groans loudly as your body shakes and writhes beneath him, the vice grip your pussy has on his cock and the lie you’d spoken to him sends him over the edge; his thrusts faltering as he buries his release deep inside of you. Spilling all of the hate he swore he had for you all at once.

“Holy fuck..” He breathes out, bringing his forehead to yours. You nod in whatever agreement you thought. When he finally rolls off, his back hitting the mattress; you decide it was probably best to head back to the floor, unsure of what just happened.

When you sit up to get off, you feel a hand grab your wrist; keeping you still. You look down at him curiously, “Where are you going?” His big brown eyes are wide with worry. “I though you’d.. I figured..” You stammered, waving to the bed on the floor. He shakes his head, “C’mere..” You stop the grin that almost broke across your face as you lay back down, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you to his chest.

You lay your head on his chest, hand splaying against his stomach before reaching up to trace his tattoos. “I like these..” You admit. His hand around your shoulders rubs up and down your arm soothingly.

“You could’ve had me, you know..” You say quietly, eyes trained to his chest. “Me? Yeah right.. I knew you were too good for me even when we were kids. I was just this dirty little trailer park boy, and you were this pink skirt, clean tennis shoes wearing girl.” He tells you, your heart swelling in your chest.

“I didn’t care..” You inform him, bringing your eyes to his. He shakes his head, “I knew I didn’t have a chance once we got to high school, how was I supposed to compete with guys like Steve Harrington?” You cringe at the mention of your ex, shaking your head. “Always wanted you.. But you were just so hell bent on hating me that I didn’t try.” He mentally screams at his stupidity knowing that he never hated you, he just hated that he didn’t think he was good enough for you.

“I wanted to tell you, but I knew you deserved better deep down.” He sighs, and you sit up slightly, your face near his. “I didn’t want better, I wanted you..”

“Wanted?” His voice is soft with a hint of disappointment. You shake your head, “Want..” Your lips are now brushing against his lightly. “Then I’m yours..” He whispers and you press your lips to his, this time it’s soft, and loving, and needed.

“I hate you..” You whisper and he smiles against your lips.

“I hate you, more..”

——————————————————————————

Tag List: @figmentofquinn @dxlceprincessa-blog @one-sweet-gubler @hb8301 @laheymaze @bebe0701 @j4to6786 @feltonswifesworld87 @sequoiassoul @kellysimagines @hellfirefiend @psycheberenike @cutiecusp @thefreakofhawkins86 @booskienahnah @science--hoes @assinakase @castiels-gracex @ysmmsy @ajkamins @whoscamila @levimunson @ches-86 @e-munson666 @eterealbeaut @hardcoredisneynerd @obsessivereader118

#eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #joseph quinn smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #joseph quinn stranger things #eddie munson enemies to lovers #hate to love

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sunset-sprinkles · 8 months

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🍉✨TWINKLING WATERMELON ✨🍉

Enchanted to meet you

“the first day i saw you i got to laugh heartily for the first time in a while. the second time i saw you i felt the sound of my heartbeat for the first time ever. the third time i went to see you although you probably had no idea”

Yichan-Cheongah scream Taylor Swift's "Enchanted" coded ship. There's so much subtly, and importance of silence portrayed in the drama. The theme and the characters hit straight to hearts strings , wasn't thinking of watching this drama but oh my god? It's not that the story is something extraordinary - but it's a story which caries emotions at the backend of every characters. Being so close to my parents , I feel this feels like HOME.

" If I hadn’t let Se Gyeong borrow that T-shirt, would I have been the one standing before you? ”

Please don't be in love with someone else

I was enchanted to meet youuu.....

#kdrama #kdramaladies #hate to love #falling in love #headers #love story #soulmates #twinkling watermelon #choi hyun wook #ryeoun #ryeowook #shin eun soo #seol in ah #crush #bts

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gwenrefrick · 16 days

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watched Maxton Hall. I am in love with Robin and Mortimer Beaufort. The wait. The quarrel. Their fucking kiss. The tension. The hate to love arc. The chemistry. I. Am. In. Love. The rich guy falling in love with the poor girl and the villain dad. It is cliched. It is not unheard of. And fuck that! Imma watch that same plot over and over again and will fall in love every single time. The actress is so fucking pretty. Shout out to that. She is gorgeous.

#Maxton hall #james beaufort #ruby bell #ruby x james #the chemistry #In love #review #hate to love #waiting for the next season

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urfriendlywriter · 2 years

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Rivals to Lovers in Marriage Prompts:

(feel free to use<3 tag me when u write 1st, 2nd, and 11th OMFG and 2nd to lasttt omg! requested by @steamorii11 )

"step up your game, babe." they say, tugging you closer. you trace your hand down their chest, "how's that working now?"

"Do you think they bought the act?" "While I kissed you down your throat? They definitely did, honey."

they're laying next to you while they ask, "you think we'll end up falling in love?"

^ when you jokingly reply, "I'd rather kill myself," you notice a strain in their "oh"

"can you please not rub salt in my wound for once and leave?" ".. i actually come offering pancakes and.. warm hugs :)"

finding warmth in their hugs though it isn't supposed to feel like it

"You're a wonderful person, [name]. I'm sorry you had to marry.. me. "

"you're hurting and it's okay, why are you not leaning on me?"

"what if i fall for you?"

hands finding each other's in a nervous situation

"are you faking it-" "i can't seem fake anything when it comes to you, love.."

"I regret a lot of things, love, but I do not regret marrying you."

"I think when i said i hate you i actually meant 'i love you and, i don't know how to tell you, so let me become your rival and you'll somehow figure it out' but am i right here with you in my arms, as my wife/husband and i don't think there's enough words in the world to mention what I'm feeling for you."

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dramashii · 1 year

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Bo Ra! Deborah (2022) | Ep 2

#Bo Ra! Deborah #Bo Ra Deborah #Bora deborah #true to love #yoo in na #Yoon Hyun Min #kdrama #kdramaedit #kdramagif #kdramasource #hate to love #again #I'm not going to make a detailed first impression post about this #but I've seen all the four eps already #kdramadaily #k:bora deborah

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sarahowritesostucky · 1 month

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Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago.

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.”

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?”

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared.

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?”

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.”

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear.

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs.

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer.

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no—

“Looking for this?”

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.” He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.”

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?”

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?”

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.”

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger.

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger.

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for.

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?”

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.” He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens.

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.”

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you.

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat.

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.”

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.”

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you.

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?”

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss.

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?”

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?”

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.”

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.”

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch.

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little,

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?”

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.”

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?”

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him.

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen.

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there.

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him.

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word.

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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lexxwithbooks · 2 years

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📖: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 (𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝑙𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝐴𝑖𝑟 #3) 🐍👑🗡

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nyxindustries · 10 months

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Hate me Love Me| Tony Stark

Fandom: MCU( Msrvel Cinematic Universe)

Pairing: Hate to love Relationship, Tony Stark x Reader, Tony X Fem reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DO NOT Interact, Sexual intercourse, BREIF language, Explicit content, Riding Tony, Tony taking control, enemies to lovers pairing, Unprotected Sex ( Wrap it before you tap it), slight dominant Tony.

Request: “Tony loves the reader (fem reader please, and she loves him too), but instead of confessing his love, he pretends that he hates her because he thinks she doesn't like him that way, but one day they are alone and she asks "why do you hate me?" and he says, "I actually love you" and she confess too, and they make love and stay together forever?”

| Masterlist |

Knocking on the door, you hear a simple 'yes' from the other side. Opening the door and entering the room while standing behind him as he works at his desk.

"The avengers left for their assignment. Just so you know, we're the only ones here. "You tell Tony Stark, who's sitting at his desk, with a bright light, working on a device.

Turning around, he glances at you briefly and rolls his eyes before turning away

“Okay, cool. You can now leave my room.” He says in a rude and abrupt manner.

“Alright, but don't have to be so rude. “ You say you're going to leave the room as Tony turns around again.

“I wasn't being rude. Maybe your ears checked, L/n." Tony says and you laugh at him.

“You were being rude, and all I was doing was giving you a heads up, so you can avoid me.” You're speaking in a rude, slight tone now.

Tony gets up and looks at you, rolling your eyes, as you turn and walks away as he grabs your hand.

"What is it? You're going to call me a rude name or insult my intelligence again. Ever since I got here, you haven't liked me. I don't care, but please show me some decency!” You yell as him as Tony counters your words and begins arguing and yelling over each other quickly.

Tony and I came to a halt as you both snapped.

"YOU! YOU'RE MY PROBLEM!"

“WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH?”

Tony's voice is being drowned out by yours, leading to both of you yelling at each other at the same time. Tony shuts up and stare at you.

“Don't even...” you say as you turn away to get out of his room, as hot tears begin to blur your vision.

"I-... I-....." Tony said he started following you but stopping once you started stopping.

"You don’t want-… What? Say it Anthony because I am tired of this fighting and most of all I am tired-…" you say as you start snapping back at him as he cut you off all of sudden.

"I LOVE YOU…. I actually love you. He says, staring at you, and a laugh escapes your lips as you look away from him.

You love me? You have a really funny way of showing it. You're trailing off as you look off into his room, saying, 'I can't...'

"Look, I'm So-...." said Tony and you cut him off.

"You can’t just say that! You can’t just say that to me! You say as you hit his chest, and Tony sighs out as you hit his chest again.

“You can’t say that! Not to me! I’m not one of your play things! STARK! I’m not that! You can’t throw those around, this entire week you have been more bitchy than normal and you say you love me, that’s not-…. THAT'S NOT FAIR!” You scream at him when you hit his chest once more.

"Not fair…. It’s not…. IT'S NOT FAIR WHEN I LOVE YOU TOO… So you can’t just…… you can’t just say those words to me… unless you mean them and you don’t because you hate me…. Right? Do you hate me” You say breathlessly that your tears have started to fall one after the other as you push him away and hit him over and over until he grabs your hands.

Holding onto your arms tightly as he leans in kissing you. Freezing as you slowly melt into the kiss as Tony lets your arms go as they fall to your side, but you quickly pick them, grabbing Tony face as he slowly pushes you against the wall.

Tony's hands rest on your waist as you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him more. Both by pulling away to get air for a second as heavy breathing filled the room and it wasn’t until Tony started kissing, biting in your neck until you knew what was happening. It felt like a dream come true.

Tony moves away from your neck when you push him away from you, while you then push him onto his bed, making him smile with a smile as you tower over him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Tony asks, and you nod as Tony grabs the back of your thighs and pulls you into his lap.

"Yes.. Let’s just skip to the fun part already! I’ve been wanting this!” Kissing him, as Tony rips your blouse, causing buttons to fly everywhere as he takes it off your blouse.

Your hands slip under Tony's shirt and you remove it. Tony slips your back as he unclips your bra with one hand, making you throw your bra across the room.

Tony takes you in as he chuckles to himself.

“'Oh, you're beautiful!” as you smile wide.

“Thank you” you say quietly into his ear before pushing Tony back onto his bed, but he grabs your hips and lower back as he flips you onto the bed.

Taking a breathless chuckle as you grab the sheets. Tony's eye is on you as he effortlessly unbuttons your pants and removes them with your underwear.

Smiling gently as he kisses you, Tony undoes his pants and takes off his underwear when his cock comes alive. Your legs wrap around Tony’s waist as you flip him back into the bed as you straddle him, kissing his lips and then slowly moving down to neck as Tony groans out.

Kissing Tony's chest and making him smile while he brushes your hair back. Back to his lips while you gently kiss him while your hand descends towards his cock. Slowly readjusting yourself as you lower onto his cock.

Tony entering herself and rests his hand on his chest, clutching his hands as you bite your lip.

Moaning out while closing your eyes and slowly moving your hips. Your breasts are being massaged by Tony while your nipples are being flicked at.

"Oh my god... fuck..you're huge." You moan as Tony starts sucking on your nipple as he slaps your butt with his other hand, making you gasp.

Tony's hands were on your hips now as he moved your hips, causing you to moan more as you started to take charge and bounce up and down quickly.

"Oh god!" You moan out as you swung your head back and begin bouncing more and more causing Tony to groan as he watches you and his hands go and play with your nipples and smack your ass.

Tony groans out, but he just couldn’t get enough, Tony grabbing your back as he throws you onto the bed as he towers over you and pulls you in more and into his cock as he begins thrusting.

Moaning louder than you can hear Tony sit up, as his hand pulls you in, kissing your neck and biting you in places you didn't know you would love.

“T-Tony..fuck me…more! Ah!! You say he began moving much faster as he smacked your breasts.

“Mhm, right there! ”As you moan out more as you kiss Tony, and he groans out as well.

The knot in your stomach grows bigger and bigger as you grab the bed sheets as Tony begins massaging your clit, making you moan louder.

As Tony's thrusts become messy and harder into you.

Yelling out, “shit…'I'm gonna cum!” Tony agrees quickly.

“Me too! Where do you want-“

“I don’t care! I’m on the pill! You moan out as Tony grabs your hips tighter as he slams into you as you fill warm liquid in you.

Moaning out as you cum all over his cock, Tony leans over as he kissed as breathing heavily and you look at him,

Your hands run through his hair quickly as he falls next to you.

Taking a deep breath as you begin laughing softly as Tony looks over at you. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because apparently my worst enemy just did me because he loves me!” You mutter out

“I can say the same thing about you. Honestly, you didn't do anything wrong. I just fell in love with you and couldn’t explain it… so I made it seem like I didn’t like you so I can push you away.” Tony says quietly

“I love you” You whisper as you lay on your side facing him

“I am in love with you. Do you want to be together forever? “ Tony asks almost shyly with a red tint on his face.

“Yes. I would love to.”

“Do you want to go to round two?” You ask and Tony laughs as he quickly nods, kissing you as he grabs your hips.

Tony's going down as you already felt his mouth and fingers are already inside you, as you moan closing your eyes.

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