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falling-endlessly · 3 months

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Boomerang (part 3)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: Your infuriating ex is planning something, and it's putting everyone on edge. But if he wants at the hotel, he'll have to go through you (and Alastor) first.

<— Part 2 Chapter Index Part 4 —>

—6 HOURS AGO—

"What," Valentino growled, claws creating cracks in the table from how hard he was gripping it. "The fuck did you just say?"

Velvette was no better. Her lip was pulled into a furious snarl, and for once her phone was nowhere to be seen. "Vox, are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Relax," Vox reclined in his chair, raising a brow at his murderous business partners. Velvette's eye twitched and the table creaked in protest under Valentino's fury. "I'm not actually going for redemption, damn, calm your tits people."

"What happened to keeping up an image for the brand?" Velvette banged a fist against her armrest, gritting her teeth. "The Morningstar bitch was literally humiliated on live television, and now you're going to personally advertise for her?!"

"The next extermination is coming sooner than ever, and people are getting desperate. This little publicity stunt can work in our favor," Vox crossed his claws under his chin, megawatt smile growing. "What's a little pity pitch going to hurt? Think about it, I can gather intel, fuck up Alastor's little project, and show Y/n where her allegiances should lie. Win-win-win," he chuckled ominously.

"Cut the shit, Vox," Valentino scoffed, leaning forward to sneer in his face. "It's obvious you're only going this far for that bitch. Can't keep a leash on your toys, hm?"

Vox grit his teeth, digging his claws into his thighs under the table. He knew this wasn't going to go over well, but to be talked down to by someone who was benefiting from him? "So what if I am?" He hid his rage with a large, mocking grin. "And by the way, where's Angel Dust? Haven't seen him around in a while."

Val's face twisted with rage. "You fucking—"

"Enough!" Velvette snapped, glaring at both of them. "I don't have time for this stupid shit. Get on with it or this meeting is over."

Vox's unhinged smile slowly relaxed into his charming PR one. "Of course, my apologies Velvette, Val. I can see why you're not...convinced yet. Let me fix that."

The projector on the wall suddenly sparked to life, displaying three pie charts and a legend with many colorful categories. He gestured to them from left to right. "This is a distribution of our profits from ten years ago, five years ago, and last year."

"We have eyes," Velvette droned boredly.

Vox's antennae sparked in irritation, but he continued regardless. "Y/n's helped develop countless programs and softwares, and with her expertise our earnings jumped thirty seven percent, especially during the collaboration between Voxtek and DeepSpace VR. Now, what happens now that she's taken her business elsewhere? Hell knows she has the computing power to run it without our servers—"

"So, we're supposed to just bend over backwards for a few bucks?" Valentino snarled, crossing his arms.

Vox's screen glitched as he struggled to keep his composure. Thirty seven percent was not just a few bucks. But he knew antagonizing Val right now was more trouble than it was worth. "Val," he chuckled, sauntering forward to rest a hand on the backrest of Valentino's chair, leaning into his space. "Since when have you said no to money?" His eye widened, rings spinning.

"Since it walked out on two legs and ignored us," Valentino snorted.

"Val, I need you to see the bigger picture!" He grasped both of Valentino's shoulders, moving behind him so he could speak enticingly into his ear. "This is an opportunity to keep our brand at the top, and get dirt on that radio bitch. The future is what matters, and we are going to be the ones pioneering it."

The projector flickered to one of the surveillance cameras pointed at an exterior angle of the hotel. Then, the image suddenly rippled to show an artificial video of the same property, but instead of the tacky hotel, there stood a modern building adorned with a bright, neon V logo.

Valentino's smile grew at his last sentence, and he turned in his seat, leaning his forehead to rest against Vox's screen. "I like your vision, Cariño," he purred, grinning wickedly to show off his golden tooth. "But, if your little money-making cocksleeve doesn't come back, well, don't say I didn't tell you so~" he said in a sing-song voice, long tongue coming up to lick languidly along the side of Vox's monitor.

Vox's grin froze on his face, screen glitching.

Valentino chuckled, pushing out of his seat before strutting away. "Oh, and Vox baby," he threw a saucy wink over his shoulder. "Come find me when you get lonely, yeah?"

The double doors slammed shut behind him, bathing the room in silence. Which Velvette quickly broke, of course.

"What the fuck, Vox?" She scrubbed a hand down her face. "All this for a profit we can afford to lose? Really?"

"Velvette," his smile twitched up to full, blinding attention again. "Have I ever let you down before? Everything is under control, trust me!"

"Uh huh," Velvette scowled, unconvinced. "You know, Alastor and Y/n are the only people you've ever really lost it for, and you're going to a place where there's both of them."

"What, you don't think I can handle myself?" His smile strained.

Velvette shook her head, standing up from her chair and approaching him. "You know, that PR shit might work on everyone else, but I can see through your bullshit, Vox," she gave him a hard stare. "Just don't fuck everything up, got it? Or I'll make you wish you didn't."

His fists clenched as she walked past him, smile dropping into a scowl as soon as she was out of view.

****

—PRESENT—

"Whatever you do, make sure he's at least ten floors away from me," you muttered to Vaggie, watching as Charlie gave the bane of your existence an awkward tour of the hotel.

The atmosphere was so tense and suffocating, it was starting to make you incredibly antsy. The others were no better. Angel was drumming his fingers anxiously on the bar counter, Niffty was curiously regarding the new "resident" and Husk was already chugging his second bottle of hard liquor. Holy hell, and you couldn't even forget about Alastor if you tried, the radio demon releasing a constant stream of static and looking about ready to sacrifice someone—preferably Vox—in an incredibly painful and sadistic ritual.

"I can't believe she's letting him stay," Angel hissed under his breath, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "Actually no, what am I saying? This is Charlie, of course she'd let him stay. God damnit."

A tap on your shoulder made you turn around, only to find your favorite stiff drink on the counter behind you. You nodded gratefully at Husk, taking the glass and throwing it back like water.

"At least the hotel's in one piece!" Niffty chirped, her one eye back to tracking any stray insects. "Less mess to clean up." Her knife gleamed as she stabbed a cockroach clean in half with a deranged giggle.

"This isn't going to end well," Vaggie scowled darkly. "He's going to try something, I fucking know it."

"Yeah, no shit," Angel groaned, Husk grunting in agreement.

"Or," Pentious chimed in, hair flaring thoughtfully. "He truly does want to redeem himself?"

There was a silence as everyone turned to look at him incredulously, before a unanimous, resounding "no," rang out.

****

"Anddd here's your room key," Charlie presented it to him with a flourish, beaming brightly. "We hope you enjoy your stay! Breakfast, lunch and dinner are served downstairs in the dinning room, or you can go out and get your own food! We'll get your survey ready for you tomorrow so that you can start building your schedule."

"Schedule?" He quirked a brow, taking the room key from her outstretched hand. "For what, exactly?"

"Oh! Um," Charlie laughed, rubbing the back of her neck. "We actually host group therapy activities and trust exercises with the other staff and residents! You'll fill out a short survey so that we can personalize—"

"O-kay, let me stop you there, sweetheart," he chuckled, grin widening condescendingly. "I think it's great what you're doing, really, I do. But I've already got a schedule, and a billion dollar company to run. I'm quite the busy man, you know?"

Charlie furrowed her brow. "But—"

"Seriously, my sales would fall and what would my clients say? Hm?" A crowd booing track played in the background as Vox shook his head like she was just some uneducated child. "So thanks, but no thanks." He shot her a wink, before the door slammed in her face.

Charlie blinked in shock, taking a few seconds to process that she'd been dismissed in her own hotel. Her shoulders slumped as she trudged away.

But that only lasted for a few steps, before she perked right back up. What was she thinking? Giving up so quickly on one of her clients?

Charlie grinned, smacking a fist into her palm. She'd just have to try harder.

Unbeknownst to her, a figure had been watching the entire exchange from the shadows. Your jaw clenched, claws digging into the drywall.

"Unbelievable," you shook your head in disdain.

****

As soon as the door shut, Vox deflated like a balloon.

"Fuckkk," he hissed under his breath, sliding down the door tiredly. "The hell am I doing?"

He allowed himself only a few minutes to wallow in self-pity, before he sighed, pushing off the floor and getting to work. In less than twenty minutes, he had the whole room wired to his needs, electronic Voxtek devices littering the previously empty spaces. Now he had a way to travel without leaving his room.

He was just about to dematerialize into one of his laptops when a familiar, chilling presence made him freeze.

"Why, you only just got here! Don't tell me you're leaving already," Alastor chuckled, tilting his head in mock concern.

The radio demon was leaning an elbow against his dresser, just casually invading his privacy. God, just his smug face made Vox want to kill him already.

"What's it to you, old timer?" Vox sneered, electricity sparking from his claws in agitation. "Unlike you, some of us actually have responsibilities. So if you don't mind—"

"Oh my, breaking your word to Y/n already!" Alastor shook his head with a grin, sound effects of a heckling crowd emanating from his microphone cane. "How very...disappointing. Truly, I'd expect better from you!"

Vox's eye widened, the swirling rings on full display as his teeth grinded in rage. "Y-y-y-you keep her fucking name out of your filthy, cannibalistic mouth! You hear me?" He glitched furiously, electricity sparking in glowing webs from his monitor.

"Aha! Someone's a little on edge," Alastor laughed in tandem with an artificial, mocking laugh track. "Really, that was too easy! You're losing your touch."

"Get the fuck out of my room!" Vox snapped.

"Gladly," the radio demon grinned menacingly, the corners of his mouth stretching to unnatural proportions. "But first, I came to deliver a little message."

Vox gritted his teeth, curling his fists by his sides. His electricity buzzed under his skin, ready to electrocute the fuck out of this crazy fucker if he needed to.

"If you and your merry band of idiots pull even the smallest stunt to sabotage the hotel," Alastor approached him, antlers growing as his eyes turned to radio dials. "I think you'll find out that absence did not make my heart grow fonder."

"What, don't tell me you actually care about this place," Vox grinned, baring his teeth. "The whole redemption thing doesn't really seem to be up your alley, no offense."

"Oh, of course not! Haha! Don't be ridiculous," Alastor chuckled like he'd said something hilarious, but it was overlayed with bursts of radio static. "But I'm afraid I've invested too much in this source of entertainment for you to ruin it with your cheap, unoriginal touch."

The message was clear: don't touch my things.

Vox curled his lip, unwilling to back down no matter how utterly disturbing Alastor's demon form was up close. It gave him chilling flashbacks of their last explosive disagreement. "Then stay away from Y/n," he spat.

Alastor's grin widened, eyes glowing an eerie green as he held out his hand. "Is that a deal?"

Vox grimaced, looking at Alastor's creepy, voodoo doll appearance. "Hell no, you creepy fucker."

Then, like whiplash, Alastor's demon form receded and the air became breathable again. "Well, glad we cleared that up, then!" He laughed exuberantly, twirling his cane. "Nice catching up, chum!"

The demon grinned as he disappeared into shadowy wisps of smoke, melding with the darkness against the walls.

Vox's jaw clenched, electric anger vibrating through him and rattling his teeth. "Fuck!" He kicked over the first thing he saw, which happened to be a wooden workbench. It took a few deep breaths for him to finally calm down and collect his thoughts.

When he was no longer at risk of causing a city-wide outage again (that had been fucking embarrassing), he made his way back to his laptop like he was originally planning to do, only to pause in shock when he saw the brand new device short circuiting, screen full of pixelated static.

An explosive rage convulsed in his chest, the lights in the hotel flickering ominously.

"You red bambi ass fucker!"

****

<—Part 2 Chapter Index Part 4 —>

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah @yellowsubiesdance @dirk-strides @justaspectatorforfandomarts @harmoira @sunnyslug @gum-iie @lady-valtieri @mit-suri @whatelsecouldgowrong @sillysimplysilky @eternalera @aoiyx @hazellight11 @hopefully-not @tsuvvy @imcryinginemo @dinorawrss @rekoloid @ayesha-eroticax3 @sle3pyh3ad2 @l0verboyxoxo1111

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writingforatwistedworld · 1 year

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If requests are still open (and if it is within the rules) may I request a shot for the Reader who casually refers to TWST guy as her "dream boyfriend" on a daily puzzle? For self-aware!Au and Leona/Jsmil/Riddle if possible? Thank you.

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, death, murder, violence, unhealthy relationship, implied family problems, threats

Riddle Rosehearts/Leona Kingscholar/Jamil Viper-Referring to them as your “dream partner”

Ah yes, cricket. The sport that the Queen of Hears loved so dearly and was the reason why many flamingos and hedgehogs probably planned a rebellion against humans

But here he was, Riddle Rosehearts himself, fueling that fire of hatered of his supposedly feathery friends when he felt the presence of the Overseer again

What a surprise, but he was happy none the less

Playing a perfect game because if he didn’t there was no way he could be worthy of your attention

And then you said those words

Riddles flamingo was this close to going bananas as it felt his grip getting uncomfortably tight around its’ legs

Getting called your dream partner… has he ascended to heaven?

And it didn’t stop there, the next few days you continued to fo that

You better believe me when I tell you that everyone was almost screaming in fear when he was about to punish someone only for him to freeze and stare with glassy eyes onto the distance

Mhm, you said it… only that you saw him on your home screen instead of telling a student that it was “off with his head”

But what if one day you didn’t want him anymore? What if you found someone else whom you thought was better than him?

That was the moment he started to turn into his old self

Only that he didn’t act like this because of his mother but because he thought that if he followed your roles perfectly you wouldn’t divert your attention to someone else

Dark days, my friend. Dark days…

Sometimes though even he misuses them, claiming that someone did something wrong whenever he feels threatened

Never mind that one time when something inside of him snapped and Trey had to wash suspiciously red clothing

Leona isn’t someone who desperately wants to be in a relationship but if you were to ask...

So here he is, laying like most of his free time in the greenhouse, sleeping away...

And it would have been a normal day if it weren’t for you, suddenly appearing as if you had planned to give him a heart attack

They said this wasn’t a horror game… tell that to Leona who is now clutching his chest from the jumpscare of you appearing

So, the housecat extravagant over there is expecting your visit to play out like usual, make students study… making Deuce nearly break his neck during flying lessons

What he did not expect though was you suddenly going all “Awww I like him so much!”

Well… apparently he is a heck of a fresh snack since you are suddenly like “He my dream partner!”

Charming. Absolutely charming. And absolutely not making him go into cardiac arrest for a minute

Leona thought this would be a one-time tingy but no. You are persistently trying to make him loose every single one of his nine lives

You repeat it. And repeat it. And repeat it. And… can someone help Leona over there. I’m starting to think those bad jokes are slowly turning into reality

Suddenly sleepy lion who doesn’t take care of himself is high fashion. Is Vil seething? Maybe but what I can guarantee you is that he plans to turn Sunset Savannahs second prince into a scarf

Malleus over there also looks like he might implode any moment but we don’t talk about the end of the world here… at least not now

Leona is not dangerous because he is very active but because he has his way with words and if that doesn’t work then he can literally grind people to dust… all I am saying is that his magic worked on Ruggie

So whenever he sees someone getting close to him so that they can also get close to you then they better be prepared for intimidation tactics which Lilia hadn’t seen since the war and they will definitely might end up with a few healthy bones less… especially in the neck are but this is a sunny side blog! We- we don’t talk about dark stuf here!

And yes, of course, this is bad for his ego but Leona knows that him changing in any way that is a bit more egoistical will probably end up in a negative way

After all, not even he is sure what he would do would you stop to refer him as someone you consider as husbando material

Uh… Jamil… poor in the shadow standing Jamil…

Now this is someone I can definitely assure you thinks he has absolutely no chance with you

Although that changed after his overblot, with him finally getting a good session of screaming at Kalim his self-esteem was definitely in better waters

So here he is, still a servant but at least he got his problems off of his soul

Which ends up with him dreaming. Would a kind and all-knowing soul like yourself even look at him? If yes, how would it be?

One day, that one darn day, you came and did what you ususally did

Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary, just some guidance

And then he feels your attention on him, his body going into “plank-mode” as he started to become nervous

All the years of serving someone like the Asim family was not able to prepare him for you

And then he is suddenly perfect boyfriend material

What’s even funnier is that he was puring Kalim a drink and at your words he gave the young heir an unvoluntary shower

Huh? The incense has probably gotten to his head, he thought whilst carrying food over to Kalim but then you started to squeal about him again and… I know, what a waste of good food.

When you repeat it every day his self esteem gets even better day by day, you repeating yourself on a daily basis

But what if someone were to take this away from him? What if some lowly insect were to question his position

Jamil can be frightening. Not the normal kind tough. No. Frighting frighting

SUdddenly that students’ social life is ruined because he did something horrible, even his family can’t look him into the eyes. WHat Jamil is always alone to those recently violent becoming people? Nah, that must be wrong, right?

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bisexual-horror-fan · 8 months

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I know you’re requests are closed but I had an idea for a Mickey fic and I’m an awful writer and you’re amazing so imma just leave this here. What if reader and Mickey are both the Ghostfaces along with Nancy and they’re both like, literally insane. Like to the point where after they kill they gotta fuck then and there whilst covered in their victims blood blah. blah but in the end Nancy kills one of them and it makes the other completely fucking INSANE for revenge.

OKAY! SO! Anon! I fucking love this ask. I went so hard. I hope you enjoy this enemies to friends to lovers over 7K massive fic! I stretched out the timeline of Scream 2 because fuck you, this is fanfic and we can do whatever we want to! I love this request and where it leaves off? I already have a sequel planned and mostly plotted. So thank you Anon seriously. Also, shoutout to @mrsaltieri-real for helping me out on this one! You are the best.

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.9K. Mickey Altieri X AFAB! Ghostface! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Reader Is A Killer. Reader Has Anger Issues. Fighting. Taunting. Teasing. Mickey And Reader Are ASSHOLES To Each Other. Blood. Gore. Murder. Death. Mild Fluff. Enemies To Friends To Lovers. Ghostface Partners In Crime Couple. Mickey Is Crushing Hard. Angst. Hurt. Crying. Emotional Pain. I Apologize In Advance.

—

“So Good To You.”

—

You never cared much for the idea of getting a college education, or at least that is what you told yourself because financially it was way out of reach for you, an impossibility. That was until you got an offer you simply couldn’t turn down, what that offer was? It was for a free ride at a college by a benefactor with money to burn and some revenge she needed to be carried out. It would be a hindrance for some, but not for you. The reason you were chosen was because of not only your previous experience with this, but your outright willingness to spill blood. So you accept, you follow her instructions to the fucking letter and arrive at school in September.

Once moved into your dorm, a few days into college you were meeting up with her in person, all the correspondence up to this point has been online and on the phone, meeting her had to be done carefully. The meeting is not even in town, the process must be delicate, and the wrong people cannot see you together lest there be talk and suspicion. When you show up and see that she is not alone you are confused, when you sit down, and she explains that you are not the only student she is “sponsoring” you are pissed.

You don’t hide this either, gripping your menu, so tightly it might bend, speaking in a hushed yell whisper, “Nancy, what the fuck?”

He, whoever he was, agreed, leaning forward and voice low, “Yeah actually, what the fuck?”

Nancy tried to have a measured response, attempting to calm you both, she set her own menu aside, fingers laced together, hands resting on top of the tablecloth. She says your name and then his, “Mickey-” you scrunch your nose, who the fuck is named Mickey? Like the fucking mouse?

“-I have to make sure this happens. You both know the motive and I figured having two of you would make this better, all the easier. I can be very hands-off and honestly, you are both such great talents. How could I choose just one of you?”

That pissed you off further. You keep your voice hushed, not wanting to be overheard, “It sounds to me more that you don’t think I can handle this myself and that I need some shitty fucking guy’s help to kill.”

Mickey scoffed, a roll of his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he said, “Yeah, you are such an empowered woman who doesn’t need any help to kill. So tough. So strong. If you are so capable, why do you need someone to fund your college career?”

You hated him. Everything about him. His stupid spiky hair, the dumb shade of blue on his sweater, his face, his voice, what he said in tone and also in content. “It’s called a scholarship. I know it’s a big word, you’ve probably never heard it, and what about you? She thinks that YOU need a woman’s help to kill, how sad is that for you?”

By the way his eyes narrowed, you feel like he doesn't like you either. Good. You don’t want him to.

The dinner is tense, but you manage to make it through and Nancy makes it clear that if you want to go or if he does that you can, but she will pull her funding and whoever is left will get to do it alone. You don’t back down and neither does he, so you are forced to work together, and you accept this fact with extreme reluctance.

The plan is for you and him to get as close to Sidney and her friends as possible, to insert yourselves and get in the right position at just the right time to make sure that this happens just as Nancy wanted. You did, and you were barely able to restrain your rage against him, it comes out sometimes, everyone else thinks it is an affectionate thing, a long-running joke of both of you disliking each other and exchanging barbs, but no one thought it was serious.

You had to get used to his presence, but that proved to be difficult, you would sometimes get so riled up after an argument with him that you felt like screaming and ripping your hair out, he got under your skin in the worst way possible. You got to him similarly it seemed, you sometimes knew he left your interactions being the one who could barely reign in his temper, part of you liked getting to him like that.

Staying away from him and avoiding any time you and Mickey were solo was a must, but sometimes you can’t help it when you are in the same friend group like this. You and he were at the same party and Sidney left to go use the bathroom, and Randy went to go get a drink, and that left you and him in proximity.

You and Mickey were both leaning against the same wall. He speaks first, “Getting real friendly with Sid there.”

You smile, proud of yourself, you were making a great impression, fantastic progress, you allow yourself to indulge in feeling pride as you agree with his assessment, “Yeah, I am.”

“She seems super invested. You do know that you need more than a low cut shirt to get her fallin’ all over herself for you, right?” He turned to face you, and you turn too as you respond, “Yeah unlike you, I am not a total slut, I am not trying to fuck her.”

“Why not?” He asked, and you laughed into your cup, making sure to keep your voice low enough just for him to hear, “Who am I? Billy Loomis? Gonna fuck her then gut her?”

He shrugs before taking a sip from his own cup, a swallow before he says casually, “I’ve read your papers in film class, derivative is your whole thing.”

“Is it now?” You ask and he says, “It is. Taking from someone great, and regurgitating it back out as if it is some amazing new or profound thought, something original all your own, when it very obviously is not.”

He was such an insufferable asshole.

You swallow what is left in your cup and then push off the wall, “I need another fucking drink if I am gonna have to be around you.”

He lets you go.

After lunch one day you, and he ended up in the same direction, you don’t want to deal with him and so you pick up the pace, walk faster, and he makes sure to speed up too, “Awe where you off to in such a rush? Gonna be late for your gender studies class, princess?”

“Gross, do not call me that shit.” You say as you adjust your backpack, rolling your eyes before you retort, “You ready to fail that test tomorrow? I know you haven’t been studying.”

His hands are thrown up, eyes skyward and a grin as he says, “Heaven forbid, I wanna enjoy the college experience and make the most of it out and about, not with my nose in a book all the time.”

“I think you could stand to be a little more well-read, you are painfully fucking dull whenever I am forced to talk to you.” Breaking off for the turn you head towards the building for your next class, he calls after you, “I am so, so hurt. Hey, don’t forget to spell women with a y, you’ll lose points otherwise, okay?”

He knew just how to really fucking bother you.

You know how to bother him, too.

A different day, you and him were meant to have a meeting with Nancy. You were waiting for her to arrive, and he was boasting about how he had gotten in with Randy and Derek, you said, “Finally, took you long enough. It’s weird, though, considering that you are the fucking worst.”

“I’m the worst?” He asked, and you nod, “Yes you are, I don’t know how you pulled it off, I have seen your acting ability.”

His hand rubs over his eyes as he asks, “You insult my acting ability now? What is wrong with it?”

“Mickey. Virgin teens faking on prom night are better actors than you are.”

His jaw drops, brows pinch together, and you pile on before he can respond, “You seem so chummy with Randy though, you blown him yet orrr?”

Nancy walked into you both locked in another augment, and she slammed the door, making you both stop. “Can you please, please, for the love of God, not fight for one day? I know it must be very hard, but do it for me?”

“It isn’t my fault she is such a frigid bitch.” He spits, and you say back, “Rich coming from the school slut, seriously, do you sweat chlamydia?”

Mickey opens his mouth and Nancy cuts him off, “Please, save it! Can’t you be the bigger person here?”

Mickey doesn’t even look at her, eyes locked with you, he says, “I know you are a real maternal figure, but I am not your fucking son so can you not talk to me like I am?”

You have to bite back the laugh you were about to bark out, and Nancy was just done, thoroughly over you both and your petty rivalry. “If you both don’t knock it off, I will call off the whole thing!”

That had you and he both turning to her, “You can’t!”

It is reminiscent of a tired parent on a car trip sick of hearing, “Are we there yet?” and responding with, “I will turn this car around!” When she tells you both, “I can, and I will if you don’t play nice at least in front of me!”

You and Mickey both know she is serious. You do your best to chill the hell out and just get through this without killing each other.

The road is long until the first kill is meant to happen. You and he have ebbs and flows of seriously deep hatred, neutral times of acceptance and even an instance or two of actually kind of getting along, at least on the surface. Below that, you still find times of hating each other.

One night after yet another tense meeting, after yet more endless frustration, you and he locked in another fight it happens without you meaning to. Both of you are just too pent-up and when he spits, “I am so tired of you being such a bitch, have you tried loosening up sometimes?”

“How would you recommend I do that in between keeping a low profile, getting closer to Sid and the rest, and keeping my grades up?” He tells you with crossed arms over his chest, “I’d recommend you taking a good dick every once in a while.”

“Does it always gotta come back to that? Just fuck my stress away and that will fix me?”

“Why not try it?” And he says it so smugly, something inside just snaps inside of you, leading to you both being in your bed. Your clothes don’t even totally come off, it is a messy hate-fuck, “I knew you wanted me-”

Your teeth sink into his throat, a sharp bite that makes him jerk back, his hips faltering as you respond, “I don’t want you, this means fucking nothing, you mean fucking nothing, okay?”

“Fine, fuck.” Another roll of his hips pulls a moan from you before he mutters out, “Crazy fucking bitch, just stop biting me.”

A terrible idea hits, and you execute it, a slap to his face as opposed to a bite and it is so shocking, catches him so off guard he has to actively fight the urge to cum. “Better?”

You ask sugary sweet, and he grits out, “I fucking hate you.”

“I fucking hate you too.”

Hate fucking when the wait for the plan to kick off becomes a somewhat regular occurrence, one neither of you chose to acknowledge unless you were splayed over a surface together.

Currently, you were in Mickey’s place. You and he agreed to head over to a party together to meet up with everyone else, you were in one of those times when you didn’t totally hate his guts, just mostly did, so you could tolerate his presence. You were getting impatient, you were a punctual person, and he was not when it came to things like this. You were tapping your foot on the bottom rung of a stool as you sat at the bar as you waited, calling out to him while he is in his bedroom, “What are you doing in there? Jacking off? I’d like to go sometime this century.”

“Yeah, I bet you like to think about that.” He called back, and you scoffed, “As fucking if.”

While you waited, your eyes flitted over the bar, and you noticed there were scattered papers about, you are so bored you start to sift through them, looks like some kind of project he was working on. You look further, wondering what it was, you skim pages and words caught on, “slice” and “blood”.

You start to look further, flip through pages, and you find descriptions of murder, violent kills, strangulation, knives stabbed into warm bodies. You read of terrible brutality and the feelings that are invoked while experiencing it. You become so absorbed in the reading when his hand touches your shoulder, you jump nearly a foot in the air, heart hammering.

“Catching up on some reading?” He asked with a grin, and you roll your eyes as you shake off his hand, “Creep.”

“Says the girl who is currently rummaging through MY shit.” Your eyes are back on the papers, ignoring what he said, and instead you ask, “What even is all this? Some fucked up project for a class?”

He takes the seat on the stool next to you, “It’s my work before coming to school.”

Your eyes go wide, you look at him, “Wait is this-”

He brightens further, “A scrapbook, yeah! I was rearranging it before you showed up, got a bit too into it, lost track of time, so I couldn’t clean it up before you came in, and then you were fucking rushing me-”

“Holy fucking shit, you have a scrapbook of your previous kills?” You flip through, detailed accounts, pictures, small souvenirs, more still. It was amazing but also infuriating, how the fuck did you never think to do something like this? Most you had was scrawled out diary entries post kill, but this was truly in depth, a testament to his commitment to wielding a knife and bringing pain.

He leans closer, starts pointing out particular details, and you have to admit, an impressive body of work, clear effort put forth into this catalogue of violence. “She was the first. She was in my math class in high school, the kind of girl who thought she was way too good for everyone, you know the type.”

His eyes meet yours, a taunting smile, and you find yourself letting out a laugh. He kept talking, and you kept listening until he says, “You are being awfully quiet.”

“Am I not allowed to be quiet?” You ask, and he laughs, “No. It just isn’t like you, normally you make your opinions very painfully known.”

You sighed, “I just can’t get over what a good idea this is, I’m fucking pissed I didn’t think of it myself.” You admit, and he laughed louder, “I got one up on you and you admit it? Fuck, it is a good night.” He gets up, collects the papers and puts them in the open box nearby. You try to stop him, “Wait, where are you going?”

You ask as he takes the box back to his room, and he says, “We have a party to get to, remember? I’ll let you read it in full another time for you to cream yourself over, alright?”

Yeah, sure, cream yourself over is what you’d do. You are simply curious about his work before you both met, you liked getting a feel for him and what he had done, it only makes sense since you are going to work together. He comes back and you both leave, but that night you had to admit is what started the shift, you started to look at Mickey a bit differently, had more respect for him. He obviously had skills to back up his talk, it was a comfort as well as just nice to get to know him on this level. No one else understood that side of you, getting to talk with someone else who has killed, he understands the depth, the complexity and more, you didn’t know how nice it would be.

After that night, you and he talk some more about it, his kills and yours, it is bonding, and it goes from hating each other and somewhat tolerating to being more like co-workers. A different night you were in your dorm room alone and both going over what your pasts. He showed you his newly minted scrap book, and you read aloud from your diary about how your first date ended in your killing the guy.

“How often have you gotten blood in your mouth?” He asks, and you gagged jokingly, “Too many times! You never think that it is gonna spray like that until the first time you slash a throat, right?”

“Seriously. Okay, okay. Least favourite part?” He asked, and you groaned, “Disposal, dead weight is such a bitch at times. Once a guy almost got away from me, I cornered and killed him at the bottom of some stairs, but once he was dead I had to drag him back UP those same stairs.”

“Fuck, how did you do it?” He genuinely asked, and you tell him, “With ropes and determination. How about you?” He hums, “My least favourite part has to be when the chase goes on for too long. Nothing worse than being winded before you even get the knife in them, feel like I can’t enjoy it properly, and I hate to do a rush job like that. It’s like the option is taken from me.”

“Lack of control is truly the worst.” You agree.

While you felt closer, a small kinship as well as more mutual understanding, Mickey could still be a bit much at times, you still clashed on occasion, but those times were becoming fewer and further between. It makes the path to the plan easier. You study on occasion, able to have meals together, Nancy is pretty pleased you’d both calmed down, and you find yourself consumed with regular daily life. The hate fucking isn’t so hateful and has also slowed considerably to a near stop.

When you got the go ahead, you and he were giddy. Alight. It caused one of the worst fights you had with him where you insisted that you be the first one to kill, you wanted to show that you could, prove yourself and also, it had been so, so fucking long since you had. Eventually, Nancy sides with you but insists Mickey be nearby in case shit goes screwy, and you can deal with that.

You revel in it. The phone call, the break in, the case and the actual kill. You being on top of her, stabbing her, running her through with one hand as your other is over her mouth. She struggles and whines, and you feel powerful, watching the light drain from her eyes the same way the blood does.

Perhaps you linger just a touch too long, but you just can’t help it. Mickey comes to get you, urge you out, and then he sees it, the aftermath. You still sitting on top of her in your costume, the knife to the hilt inside of her, and you turn, ghostly white mask with small spots of red and his breath catches. He read your accounts, you’d talked in depth, he’d killed people himself, but this, seeing it, you, post kill, was a totally different animal.

You pull off your mask, hair a mess, face sweaty with the effort, a manic smile as you ask, “What’s up?”

He lingers by the door of the balcony you were on, stuck in the threshold, the sliding glass was acting like a metaphorical doorway as much as a physical one, a turning point, one that cannot be forgotten or ignored. A shifting tide, your relationship, how he viewed you, permanently changed. His mouth feels dry, he swallows and says, “We have to go.”

“Shit, yeah, you’re right, just got a little uh-” You look down at the body, pull the knife out and drive it in one last time, you sound gleeful, “-stab happy.”

The laugh spills from you both unbidden and then, you flee the scene of the crime. Costumes stowed in bags and knife hastily wiped down. He couldn’t stop looking at you after that night. Every time he saw you, it was like you went from black and white static to live and in colour, as if he was seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you. He had it and had it so fucking badly for you, it was embarrassing.

You could get him, understand him on levels no one else could or probably ever would.

Mickey started treating you differently. You think it is because of what he saw, he finally was respecting you and sure it was part of it, but much more than you could have realized went into it. He was being much more than pleasant to be around, he was nice, fun to be around, he wasn’t an asshole like previously and slowly, much, much too slowly, after many meals bought, coffees given and notes shared you figure out that you think, he has a crush on you. It slips through even when with your “friends” and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Especially because he doesn’t hide it. He is kind, he flirts shamelessly, he makes his wants and intentions known.

You don’t know how to deal with or process that.

So you don’t.

You let him treat you better, you feel previous hate and anger melt, but you write it off as friendship, nothing wrong with that considering what you were doing. You take his compliments with a smile, you laugh off his over the top promises of “I’d be so, so good to you.” with a wave of your hand.

The plan continues on, stretches out from days to weeks, Nancy claims she wants Sidney to really suffer, and you aren’t going to question or complain.

The next kill is up to Mickey, you weren’t able to be there, but you got to see him after. Amped the fuck-up and excited, he told you about it all, how it went. “He was so pathetic, you should have seen him, begging for his life, crawling on the ground, oh my God.”

You watched him pace back and forth, animated hand gestures, his t-shirt was sticking to him from the sweat, your eyes aren’t sure where to linger, defined arm muscles or that wide sick smile. He flops onto the couch beside you, a large exhale, “It was fucking incredible.”

“And what are you feeling like, right now?” You asked as you looked down at him, and he says as his head pitches to look up at you, “I am feeling fucking starving. You want to order in a pizza?”

So you did. You ate sprawled on the floor and talked about the fact everything was meant to ramp up soon, that you and he were expected to both go in hard within the next few weeks.

It still goes on, you and both grow closer, another kill here, one there until finally there is a night where you have to murder together. The talking beforehand is frantic, both planning what was going to happen, honestly excited to do this together. You and Mickey started off hating each other's guts, but that seems so far away now, you and he were actually good friends and a united front on this plan.

It doesn’t go well at first.

The struggle is hard, you and he almost lose the two people you were planning on killing, but you manged it. Watching Mickey up close, not only that but you both doing this together, it makes something in you and your perception of him change. It is startlingly intimate, you are so in the moment, weirdly in sync with very little verbal communication, at one point you are gutting one of them while he holds them down and even through the masks, you know your eyes are locked, you can’t see his gaze, but you feel it.

It’s then. Between the smell of blood, the sweat making your black robe stick to you, over the screams of your shared victims, that all of it hits you.

It all comes crashing in, you thought he was the only one with a crush, with deeper feelings, that is not the case. You’ve come to realize that you have feelings for him too, deep and intense, scary and all consuming feelings, you care about Mickey and more than as a friend, a fellow killer, a partner in crime. You like him. Old memories flow through your mind now tinged differently, a highlight reel of neon recollection, synapses sparking, forcing you back, dragging you along to really look at those moments in the new light and context of your now fully exposed feelings. Raw and wriggling and out in the open air for you to contend with, screaming for acceptance and to be dealt with in some fucking fashion.

You had liked him for a long while and were far too stubborn and stupid to realize it. And you can’t ignore it any longer.

Snapped back into the moment you are staring. His strong gloved hands around the bitch’s throat, you can see the power he has, the way his arms strain from the effort, you can’t look away.

Once it was over, once they are both dead, you and he had to separate, and it made your mind run. You were so nervous, you trusted him completely now.

You knew Mickey was more than capable, but still, the thought of him actually being caught, you don’t know how you’d handle it. The sudden change steals your breath, you feel crushed by your new feelings, the unexpected care you feel for him.

The emotions run high during a kill night on the best of times, but the rough and rocky start, the joined act of killing, the fact the police presence as stepped up, it all mixes together. You were worried, very fucking worried, and that makes you terrified.

When you come back to the meeting point, he is already there, his mask is taken off, and you hastily remove your own. Staring across the space at each other, heavy breathing, and the look in his eyes upon meetings yours, he knows. He knows you feel differently now, and it can be felt in the air. You stride forward first as you exhale out, “Thank fuck you’re okay-”

As soon as you are close enough Mickey’s hands are on the sides of your face, pulling you to him and his mouth crashing into yours, swallowing you up in him, preventing you from speaking, stealing all words, you return his affection hastily, clumsily and with a moan of relief. Even during all your hate fucking, it wasn’t like this. There were no presses of your mouth to his, the only times your mouths were used were to bite, cause pain, or on occasion give each other some truly rough but brutal oral sex.

You are greedy, need to make up for lost time. You kiss him hard, want to make him as breathless as you are, more than the chase made him. You and he end up on the couch in his place. Costumes are long forgotten on the floor. His hands wander, touch you all over, help pull clothes away and aside, “I’ve been thinking about this so fucking much.”

A laugh slips out as you straddle him, helping him out of his shirt and throwing it aside, “Yeah Mickey?”

He takes in the view of you in just your pants and bra perched on his thighs, his hands run up your sides, fingers press over an already flowering bruise left from when one of your murder victims kneed you in the ribs. You hiss slightly, a sharp intake of air from the stab of pain, you retaliate, fingers in his hair, you thread, twist and pull. He gasps, smile widens, and he nods as much as you allow, “Yeah, been thinking about you just like this.”

“Just like this?” You grind on his lap, bare down on his clothed erection, short muted sounds of pleasure leave you both as you lose yourselves in the action, the friction before he manages to get out, “Almost, there are no clothes in the way, and I am buried deep again in that sweet fucking cun-”

You pull even harder and his sentence breaks off with a groan as you prompt him. “Stop talking and start doing.”

He was losing it. Normally whenever he hooked up with people he was sure, in total control, but you got the drop on him. He should know better, especially after all the previous very violent hook-ups.

At first, he was on top, or rather, he was trying to be, but all of a sudden a leg was around his hip and hands were on his broad chest pushing him until he fell onto his ass, back propped up on the arm rest of the couch. You settle into his lap quickly, straddling him and then lowering yourself, taking him deep, to the hilt, before he could protest. The moan leaves him on an exhalation at feeling how soaked and hot you are. His hands are on your hips, and he rocks up into you once before your hands are in his hair once more. Fingers thread anew, wrap around and twist before pulling, it makes his eyes shoot open, a harsh inhale from the pain, brows knitted together in confusion when you tell him firmly, "Stay fucking still. This is for me right now, not you."

He is shocked, stunned, your tone so harsh, leaving no room for argument, and you start to move, hips rise and fall as you ride him for all he's worth.

You look fucking stunning, gorgeous, and you feel even better.

He didn’t know he could be so into this, but he thinks it is because it’s you. He has seen you kill, seen how capable and powerful you are, he is so fucking into you, feels so deeply for you, he thinks you could carve your name into his flesh and he’d beg for more. The praise tumbles out between groan and gasps, timed with the falls and of your hips, the rolls of your body, and it makes you laugh breathy, “You are really into this.”

“Been a, fuck, while.” He confesses, and you slow your hips, “Mickey, have you kept it in your pants? Stopped fucking half the student body?”

You knew he was seeing other people in between your fucking for a while, but when you and he stopped, did he not get his fill elsewhere? He shrugs, tries to seem unbothered, but it’s hard when his hands are gripping your hips so tightly, browns pinched together, you clench on him and his head is thrown back against the arm rest of the couch. Sweat is down his temple, tendons in his throat as he swallows thickly, “Been busy.”

It is all he can force out. This is serious. Mickey the slut stopped screwing anyone else because he was crushing on you so severely. He did really like you, holy shit. Not an act at all, he was so consumed with you that fucking other people wasn’t something he wanted.

The emotion radiating off him is filling you, bleeding back into you, and you let it take you without trying to show it too heavily. You fucking care about him, you really fucking do.

Your hand below your waist, quick fingers bring you to your peak twice in short succession as you ride him before he finds his own high. The first time is frantic, needy, more about getting it out of your systems after so long without. It is undeniably satisfying and thoroughly enjoyable.

The next time happens that same night. With reheated Chinese and in his bed. You talked about it all, how the kill that night went and in the process worked yourself up once more and made the shower you shared after your time on the couch utterly pointless from how sweaty you got again.

After that night, you were together. You and he often fucked, maybe more than you should, but you just could not get enough. You’d been so busy that you hadn’t really fucked anyone other than him since getting here over a year ago. Times in your dorm or his, shared showers, traded oral in places that you shouldn’t like between library stacks. Once you had sex in the band pit of the theatre, your hands over his mouth and his over yours as you worked to keep quiet, him thrusting up into you, and you are slamming down on him as you worked each other over, bringing him and yourself to Earth shattering pleasure.

Both of you kept it more hush, hush, but another secret just added to it. You didn’t run from your feelings, nor did you attempt to hide how into him, you were. The dates squeezed in everywhere you could also try to make up for your stubborn bullshit earlier. Affection was, often, moments of tenderness and vulnerability in private were shared.

There is a moment that you keep coming back to.

Another kill. You and he are blood splattered, you had a quickie next to the body, a rushed moment of passion with you pushed over a desk. Your legs were shaking from the strength of the orgasm he fucked out of you. Over the past while you’d gotten much more comfortable with him taking control, it wasn’t a fight for dominance, it was shared responsibility that you give into as often as he does. His cum was leaking out into your panties that you had just pulled back into place. You were heaving, body slick, and resting for a moment when he comes around the desk. His mask is pulled up, and he leans down, gloved hands come to your face, one hand holds the knife in his leather clad grip, the other holds your cheek. You feel the knife handle against the opposite side, and he moves in, he kisses your forehead half-in-half-out of his killer garb, and you melt. You smile up at him and he returns it.

The lies and secrecy shouldn’t turn you on like this. Lying to Sidney and everyone else, the high you are both on from so far getting away with it is immense. You and he are too perfect of a fit.

It’s the day of. You and he are about to head out when the urge strikes. “Hey-“ Your hand quickly reached out and grabs his wrist, pulling him back from the door, so he was stood facing you again. His hand dropped to your waist, and he smiled down at you, that stupid damn devastating smile you used to hate that you now couldn’t see yourself living without, “- before we do this, there’s something I wanna tell you. Just in case.”

He noticed you looked almost nervous, weight shifting from one foot to the other, he had never seen this emotion on your face before, and he knew exactly what was coming before you took a deep, unsteady breath and opened your mouth to speak again. “I lo-”

“Don’t.” He said quickly, eyes wide, raising his hand to place it over your mouth, an action you had both done to each other God knows how many times in a much different context. “Save it. Tell me after we’ve won, okay?”

You rolled your eyes slightly, prying his fingers away from your mouth. “God, you’re such an overdramatic dork, Mickey. Okay.”

It was stupid. You shouldn’t have listened to him. You should have said it.

You and he and Nancy were in the theatre with Sidney. The monologue was underway, big speeches, reveals, shock and awe. You’d been watching from afar, waiting for your cue to come in, when it happens all too quickly. Sidney made Nancy so angry so fast, unable to control herself, and she points the gun and with a simple move of her finger, the trigger is pulled and all of a fucking sudden just like that night your world is coming crashing in. He wasn’t expecting it, the bullet holes in his chest pour blood out rapidly.

You are frozen in place. Rooted to the spot. You watch as his body falls. Here then gone. Stole from you in a single moment, no time to react, nothing to do, no time to process either. He was ripped from you, and it takes a moment for everything to come back into focus. Sidney and Nancy are struggling, and you find the strength.

You move.

The weapon in your hand is used on Sidney, not the way you’d intended to, the butt of your own gun is smacked full force on the back of her head. You knock her out and let her fall to the stage. You are left standing there with Nancy, who is wondering what you are doing. You are holding up the gun, pointing it straight at her, questioning her in the same way, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Why are you pointing that at me?” She asked in seeming disbelief, and you scoff, “Why do you think?! I heard you! I heard what you said, I watched you shoot Mickey, I know you want me dead next, right? Clean up the loose ends?”

You spit it at her with vitriol before you do your best impression of her annoying voice during her speech to Sidney, “There was a big scuffle, and you-” your foot kicking Sidney’s boot for emphasis, gesturing down to her with your other hand, “-shoot Mickey-”

Saying it makes you sob. Tears start to stain your cheeks, “I cannot believe you! Bringing us here, making us do your dirty work, and you were planning on killing us the whole fucking time!”

“What, did you really think that he’d get away with it? His big plan about blaming the movies? What jury would believe that-” She shouts, and you stomp your foot, “Shut the fuck up, that isn’t the point!” You weren’t going to tolerate her speaking ill of him, not while he is still bleeding out in the band pit, you kept talking, “You double-crossed us!”

Your gun moves down, and you shoot, getting her in the knee. She crumples under the weight of her own body. She is on the ground, and she is the one sobbing in short order. You make your way to her, you step onto her busted knee, grinding your boot down into it and revelling in her anguished screams. Blood gushes and you still are not satisfied. You sink down, you lay into her. First the gun across her face, teeth are knocked out, displaced and rattle as they roll across the wooden stage.

You hit her again and again, next the gun is dropped, your hand takes over, punching her, nose breaks, cartilage cracks, bones snap, she is coughing and wheezing and weak. Your knife is removed from the holster stored in your boot, and you hold it to her throat, “You are such a stupid fucking bitch.”

She was delirious, and you slammed her head against the stage, “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Her eyes are unfocused, but they are on you, “This is your fault. You are going to die, but you didn’t have to. You killed him first, and now I’m gonna kill you.”

The response is weak from her dry cracked lips, “Why?”

“Why?” You asked, a bitter laugh, you hold the knife closer to her throat, “Dumb cunt wants to know why? Sure, I can tell you.”

A deep inhale before you say, “You brought me here under false pretenses, made me work with one of the most annoying and insufferable people I have ever met in my life, forced me to be around him and in the process made me realize that…”

You can’t bring yourself to say it, but you instead say, “-That I care about him. That I needed someone else who could truly understand me on this level, who cared, who showed me how I deserved to be fucking treated and then, you just…You kill him, snuff him out, like he was nothing!”

You feel the tears falling again, “After all we’ve done to make your fucked up dream of a revenge plot come true, and you expect me to just lie down and take it when you kill him?!”

You can’t see her properly, not through how watery your eyes were. A steadying breath before you say, “And the way you did it. With a gun? It is insulting! Where is the intimacy? The care? The artistry, if he had to die by murder, he deserved better! Do you care about the art form at all?!”

You are tired of her, the anger and sadness had been bubbling up, it all comes to a head and bursts, the knife slices through her throat, she is choking on her blood when you tell her, “I’m not playing along, I’m not doing your stupid plot, not anymore. I’m rewriting it, Sidney’s gonna live.”

You don’t stop there. The knife is forced into her over and over. By the time you are done, her stupid white unflattering white suit is stained completely red.

Getting up from the complete mess, you look over your shoulder, Sidney is still passed out. This is your chance to run, but you can’t. Not yet.

Your steps are tentative, your knees hurt from how long you were on them while hunched over Nancy’s body while you were killing her. Your hands shake, and you peek over the edge of the stage and see him down there, amongst upturned band chairs, and your breath is stolen. You and he hooked up down there weeks prior, and now he was down there, looking wrong, totally fucking wrong. He looks lonely, and you hate that, you move quickly, one hand on the edge of the stage, and you jump down, it hurts your ankles from the height, you don’t care.

You stay there with him. You cling to him, you are reminded of that conversation, your least favourite. Dead weight. Quickly going cold, lifeless eyes staring up, past you, to some point on the ceiling, unseeing. You let yourself cry. You want to say it, tell him the depth of your feeling want to force the words out, you want to tell him you love him, but now it doesn’t feel right at all. He should have been able to hear those words from you while he was alive, while you still had a shot at a future together, whatever it would have looked like.You let yourself say this at the very least.

“You were right…” You sniff, you wipe at your cheeks and say, “The time we had was short but fuck. You were so good to me. I should have let you be good to me sooner. I should have been better to you, too.” The next words sit heavy on your tongue, no matter how much you want to they are left unsaid, and you make yourself leave him.

Before you do, there is one thing that feels necessary, like you have to. Hands cradle his face, one hand still holding the knife, and you lean down, you press a blood stained kiss to his forehead, near his hairline just like he did to you before. A mirror of that previous act of tenderness on a scarlet tinged afternoon but so much sadder because it was the last moment like this you’d ever have with him and again still, it was totally wrong. He can’t feel it, because he’s dead.

You get up and with one last forlorn look to him, you run.

Sidney wakes up unscathed but dazed, Mickey dead and Nancy too. You hadn’t revealed yourself, she hadn’t seen you, Nancy and Mickey hadn’t made mention of you, you’d been wearing gloves and there was none of your blood or DNA at the finale’ site, so you got away with it. They think the last person is still at large, but they have no clue who.

Your sadness is understandable, your real grief is able to be spread around, it is believable that it is for Hallie and Derek and everyone else but Mickey on the surface. You and Sidney drift apart. You tell her it’s too hard and she more than understands, she was initially suspicious at first, but you were too good an actor, your alibis too well planned and airtight.

The unmarked account that your tuition came out of was still full. You intend to transfer to a different college next semester. You can’t stay here, the idea of graduating from here without Mickey is horrible. You need a new state, a new school, a fresh chance to try and attempt to move on. It’s after winter break at that new school that you meet.

The events happened over a year ago, and you were still not doing good. Still sad, you wonder how you can ever process this pain, this total loss, no way can you talk about it, no way another person could ever understand.

Until that is one fateful day, you get a knock at your apartment door. You answer it and standing in front of you is a ghost, one person who you thought, just like everyone else, was dead, and maybe, perhaps, the only one who can relate to you.

Brows furrowed and gripping the door, so your legs won’t buckle, you asked nervously, in total shock and disbelief, “Stu Macher?”

He grinned with a point to himself, “That’s me. Can I come in?”

#Mickey Altieri X reader #slasher x reader #Ghostface x reader #BHF asks #BHF writing #HERE #HAVE IT #ENJOY IT #FUCK #FINALLY #Been working on this one for a WHILE

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once-upon-an-imagine · 2 years

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Love Is A Battlefield - Eddie Munson & Steve Harrington

A/N: aaaaaaaahhhh xD omg! so I have no idea how this happened but it did, I ended up mixing two similar but just as awesome requests so I hope you loves like it! :D

Requests - marvelsbitchh asked: I love steddie so much! I have so many ideas lol. Okay so, could i request a steddie x reader imagine where instead of Eddie buying more time with the bats, reader is in Eddie's place and bought more time and got hurt, and Eddie is the one who finds her. He like freaks out and Dustin comes and helps Eddie bring us to the hospital. We survive but we were in a coma and wake up a week later. Both Eddie and Steve are there (i forgot to mention that we're already dating steddie) and get angry and yell at you because they were so scared. They realise reader is crying/upset and realise what they're doing and quickly apologize and just fluff at the end lol. Sorry if this sucked i'm not the best at requesting things

- spideysbae asked: eddie doesn't sacrife himself, the reader does and they send her to the hospital, but since eddie is still wanted for murder he can't go an visit her, so everyday when steve goes to visit her, eddies like "give this to her please, and read it to her" and he gives steve an letter and steve reads to the reader and everyday eddie just writes a new letter and steve reads it to reader, who is in coma or smt like that. Then one day, steve sneaks eddie into the hospital to see her and he just cries into steve's shoulders

Warnings: spoilers for S4E8 (kinda) reader gets badly hurt and is in a coma for a few weeks (also this focuses more on Steddie because of that, principally in Steve trying to keep it together 🥺); Eddie and Steve being mad at the reader for being reckless; angsty but with a happy ending, and let me know if there’s anything I missed :D

Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things :D gif isn’t mine :)

Your name: submit What is this?

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Love Is A Battlefield

We are strong No one can tell us we're wrong Searching our hearts for so long

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!” you muttered to yourself as you pedaled faster than you’ve ever had before.

You had no idea how you found yourself here. Okay, that wasn’t true. You knew why you were riding this bike as if your life depended on it. Because it did… literally depended on it. You went over the plan a million times. You divided into groups. Lucas, Max, and Erica, group one. Back in the normal Hawkins (if you could call Hawkins normal), at Vecna’s house. You, Eddie, and Dustin, group two. In the Upside down, at the trailer park, creating a distraction and buying more time. Nancy, Steve, and Robin, also Upside Down, but at Vecna’s house. Your instructions were simple enough. Stay there, buy some time, if things go south, go back. Simple enough, right? But no, after Dustin made it back, you turned to look at Eddie, and before you knew it your legs were running out of the trailer, locking the door from outside and leaving him screaming at you.

“Jesus Christ! Princess, get the fuck back here!” you could still hear Eddie screaming but you were getting further away.

And then it dawned on you. You didn’t really have a plan. All you were thinking was that Eddie and Steve needed to get back safely. And for that, you needed more time. And for that, you needed Eddie to stay back and be safe. When you were far enough, you stopped. You got down from the bike, grabbed the shield Eddie made for you, and the bat Steve made for you. And you saw them come. It was more than you remembered. You felt your heart racing faster than you had before but there was no backing down now. You gripped your weapon and shield tighter and you were ready for whatever had to come. It shouldn’t be that bad, right? Steve got bitten and he was okay. Although there weren’t as many. And there were more of you to deal with them. But whatever, as long as your boys were fine… that’s what matters. You had to do this for them. Eddie and Steve were always protecting you and taking care of you. And now, you have to take care of them. So you braced yourself for what was coming.

“COME ON!” you yelled as the cloud of demo-bats got closer, circling around you. You managed to swing a few away. But, as you feared, there were so many. “Fuck!”

You felt them attacking your left arm. Then your leg. Then your other arm. And then… then they were all over you. You couldn’t do anything else. Some of them were pulling at you so hard, you felt your arms were gonna be ripped apart. Some of them were eating away at your sides. As you yelled and cried in pain, you tried to think of something to get your mind off it. You were doing this for Eddie and Steve. Steve and Eddie, who you loved and who loved you. Eddie and Steve, whose eyes you’ll probably never look at again. Whose hands will never run down your body now being eaten by demo-bats. Whose hands you’ll never get to hold again. And then, all of the sudden, everything stopped. You saw the demo-bats fall down to the floor at once. Everything hurt. Everything.

“(Y/N)!” you heard a distant yell. You opened your eyes but everything seemed to be spinning around. You were terrified to look down at your body because you were certain that everything was going to look even worse than how it felt. “Love!” Eddie fell to his knees next to you. “Princess, look at me” he cried, holding you in his arms and pulling you towards him.

“E-Eddie” you smiled, just barely. You didn’t know you still had it in you. But Eddie could always make you smile.

“Shh, listen to me, you’re going to be okay, love” he told you. But you could see tears in his eyes. Eddie never cried. No, that was a lie. Steve never cried. Eddie always did. “Steve is coming, princess and we’re going to get you out of here, I promise!”

“Eddie, what the fuck!” Dustin said, catching up to you two. “Holy shit!”

“Dustybun” you chuckled, feeling the horrible taste of blood coming out of your mouth. “S-sorry, only Suzie calls you that” you coughed.

“Princess, s-stop talking, love” Eddie said, grabbing anything he could to stop the bleeding in every part of your body. “Dustin, help me get her back to the trailer” he begged, helping you up but regretting it the second he heard your piercing scream. “I’m sorry, love, I’m so sorry, but I need to get you back” he said, trying his hardest to stop the tears.

“I’m s-sorry, love” you said, looking at Eddie. “I d-didn’t mean to make you c-cry-”

“Eddie!” you heard a distant voice. It couldn’t be Steve, could it? They were still too far away. “(Y/N)!”

“Steve!” you heard Eddie yell. “STEVE!”

“EDDIE!” Steve ran as fast as he could and he felt his heart drop when he saw you between Eddie and Dustin. “Eddie, what happened?” he asked, finally reaching the three of you.

“S-Stevie” you smiled weakly. At least you got to see him one last time. Your eyes then started feeling extremely heavy.

“No, no, no, princess! Open your eyes” you could still hear Eddie.

“Sweetheart, look at me! I’m here!” you heard Steve’s voice even closer.

“I just w-wanted to-” you whispered. “I’m sorry” you said. “I love you” was the last thing you said before everything turned black.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Steve, please” Eddie begged for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Eddie, love, we’ve been through this” Steve said, walking over to him. “I can’t let you go” he said, feeling his heart break by the way Eddie looked at him.

“But, Steve! It’s been a week! I haven’t seen her in one week!” he cried. “I can’t-! I can’t take it anymore! I feel like I’m going insane!” he snapped. Steve walked over to his boyfriend and grabbed his hands.

“Eddie, Eddie, love” he said, brushing his hair away from his face and cupping his face between his hands. “I know, love. I know you’re worried, and I know that you miss her” he said, brushing his thumb against his cheek, wiping away his tears. “But you still haven’t been ruled out for the murders” he said, making Eddie cry even more. “They’re still looking for you-”

“But you said Hopper would help-!”

“I know, love and he is doing everything he can” Steve promised. “But until that, I can’t let them find you” Steve said, taking a deep breath and kissing his forehead. “I need you to stay here” he pleaded. “I need you to be safe” he said, kissing him sweetly. “I promise she is going to be okay, and when she wakes up, we’re going to bring her home and then you’re going to take care of her, alright? But for now, you have to stay here, love, please” Steve said, with a small, single tear falling down his cheek which Eddie quickly wiped away.

“Okay, okay, love” Eddie said, hugging him closer. “I’ll stay here” he said, kissing Steve’s cheek.

The truth was, both of them were on edge already. They were able to bring you back, but just barely. You had been in the hospital, in a coma, for a week now. Eddie felt extremely anxious every single day that went by without being able to see you. But he knew Steve was right. Even if Hopper was back and he said he would help in proving Eddie’s innocence, it was still dangerous for him to leave the safehouse he had put them in.

And Steve. Steve was holding it together as best as he could. He was terrified of losing either one of you. He didn’t know when you were going to wake up, because he kept telling himself that you had to wake up. And he was also frightened that something would happen to Eddie.

“I’m sorry, love” Steve said, burying his face on Eddie’s shoulder, just needing him as close as possible. “It’s just-”

“I know” Eddie stroked his back, and kissed his head. “It’s a lot, love” he whispered. “I just miss her” he whispered.

“I miss her too” Steve said, pulling away and they smiled briefly at each other.

Eddie pulled away and walked over to the coffee table, grabbing a couple of the sheets scattered all around. Both of them silently smiling at the thought that you would have scowled at them already for the mess.

“Could you uh-” he said, giving the page to Steve. “Could you maybe read this for her?” he asked, looking at Steve with his big, brown, doe eyes.

“You wrote to her?” Steve asked, feeling his heart melting a little.

“It’s stupid, I know I just… want her to know that I’m thinking of her” Eddie said, looking away. Steve placed his hand underneath his chin and made him look up again before he kissed him.

“It’s not stupid, love” he assured him. “She would love it” he said. “And you don’t mind me reading it?” he smirked.

“Well, given that the first page is just me complaining about dealing with you and your horrible cooking by myself, I actually kind of need you to read it, because I didn’t know how to bring it up” he chuckled and Steve slapped his arm before Eddie kissed him.

“I’ll be back in a few hours, tops, okay?” Steve promised and Eddie nodded, kissing him once more.

“Okay” Eddie replied as Steve started to make his way outside.

“While I’m out, it wouldn’t hurt if you finally cleaned up the place” he yelled back.

“Love you, Harrington!”

“Love you too, Munson!”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Henderson?” Steve asked, walking into your room. He felt his heart breaking all over again every time he saw you.

“Hey” Dustin said, smiling at him as he replaced some of the flowers on your window. “I was just… visiting Max and… thought I’d stop by” he said.

“How’s she doing?” Steve asked, feeling a little guilty that she was just a couple of rooms down and he hadn’t seen her in a few days.

“She’s hanging in there” Dustin nodded before looking at you. “How's she doing?”

“Same” Steve sighed, walking over to him.

“She’s gonna be okay, Steve” Dustin insisted. “R-right?”

“Yeah” Steve smiled at Dustin. “Of course, man” he said, unsure if he was trying to convince himself more than Dustin.

“How’s uh… the um, banished?”

“He’s hanging in there too” Steve said, sitting down on a chair next to your bed. “He wanted to come” he told Dustin. “And I get it… he misses her” he said.

“Hey, maybe there’s a way we can get him in” Dustin suggested.

“Dustin, but, I know you’d love to help, but no. There’s no way-!”

“No, wait, hold on, give me about ten minutes okay? I just have to talk to Lucas about something” he said, rushing out of the room.

“No, Henderson! Wait-” Steve tried, but Dustin was already out of the room. Steve sighed, turning back to look at you.

He hadn’t been alone with you ever since you were all back. There was always someone else in the room. If he was being honest with himself, he couldn’t really face you. Seeing you so defenseless in that bed made him want to cry every single time. He didn’t want to sound selfish, but he hoped that Eddie could come too. Either to be there with him or just to take turns sometimes because his heart just shattered having to look at your unconscious form on that bed.

“H-hi, sweetheart” he said, turning to you. He wasn’t sure what to do next so he grabbed Eddie’s letter. “Eddie wrote something for you” he smiled sweetly. “Apparently it is about my crappy cooking but…” he laughed a little. “Let’s see what he wrote, okay?”

He grabbed your hand as he started reading the pages and he wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, or the fact that he was sleep deprived, but he could swear that he felt you squeeze his hand back.

“Steve?”

Steve jumped awake on his seat when he felt someone put their hand on his shoulder. He had fallen asleep at some point. He looked around and saw that it was almost dark outside. Shit.

“I’m up!” he replied quickly, looking at Mrs. Byers standing there. “Oh, hi, Mrs. B-” he said, politely as he got up and greeted them.

“Oh, Steve, please, I’ve told you a million times to call me Joyce” she said, politely.

“Right, Joyce” Steve smiled.

“How’s our girl doing?”

“She’s… hanging in there?” Steve sighed.

“What about you?” Joyce asked.

“Well… same answer?” he chuckled.

“You know, sweetie, you don’t always have to keep it together” Joyce said, placing her hand on his cheek.

Steve wasn’t sure what it was. The fact that his girlfriend was lying unconscious on a bed and he had no idea when, or if you were going to wake up. The fact that his boyfriend is being hunted by the same fucking town that he helped save and he can’t leave the house. Or the fact that this is the closest thing to a mother relationship he has felt in God knows how long. But Steve threw his arms at Joyce and felt his eyes watering.

“I’m sorry” he sobbed on her shoulder. “I j-just- I can't-”

“You don’t have to apologize” Joyce said, hugging him back. “This is a lot for you to take on” she said, sweetly. “She’s going to be okay, and Jim is doing everything he can to help Eddie” she assured him. “And we’re all here for you” she said. “Those kids love you three so much” she chuckled, pulling away and wiping Steve’s tears. “Here” she said, grabbing the cooler she brought with her. “We got you guys something, so you don’t have to worry about cooking or any of that” she said, giving it to Steve.

“Thank you, Mrs.- uh- Joyce” Steve said, gratefully. “Apparently, my cooking sucks so” he laughed. “Eddie’s gonna be really happy” he told her.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Alright, on my signal” Steve and Eddie heard Dustin through their walkie-talkie.

“Henderson, are you completely sure about this?” Steve asked, looking back at Eddie, who was lying on the floor of the car, hiding from everyone’s view. A couple of days more had passed and Steve’s kids had come up with a plan to sneak Eddie in the hospital so he could see you.

“Oh, my God! We have been through this a million times, Steve!”

“You know what, Henderson? I am not in the mood for this. Forgive me if I’m a little defensive, but if this goes wrong, they might take my boyfriend away, okay? So, as I said, the humility now and then, it wouldn’t hurt you!” he snapped, frustrated.

“Love, he’s just trying to help” Eddie said, grabbing Steve’s hand.

“Sorry” they heard Dustin on the other side. “I get it, okay? But I promise this will work” he insisted. “Will, Lucas, and Mike are already in place” he continued. “So, just wait for the signal. You both know what to do” he finished.

“Okay, you ready?” Steve asked, looking back at Eddie. “You know what to do, right? You meet Mike and then-”

“Steve, we’ve been through this, love” Eddie said, getting closer and kissing him. “I’ll be okay” he assured him. “I just need to see her” he begged.

“I know” Steve said, kissing his forehead. “See you on the other side?”

“See you on the other side” Eddie nodded, kissing him quickly again before they went their separate ways.

Steve kept pacing around your room after what felt like hours waiting for his signal. While Lucas and Will were creating a distraction from everyone at the reception, Dustin and Mike were putting Dustin’s plan into motion to sneak Eddie inside to see you. His part was easy. He just had to go into your room, as he always did, and then wait for the signal to go into the bathroom, behind the shower curtain, where there was a loose ceiling tile. How the kids did, and knew all of this? He didn’t even want to know. But he would be forever grateful if everything worked out. Steve saw the flashlight on the window from the room in front of yours. Max’s room. That was Erica. So he went over to the bathroom and did what he had to do, letting Eddie fall from the ceiling.

“Hi, love” Steve smiled as he helped him down.

“Hey” Eddie smiled nervously.

“You ready?” Steve said, holding his hand and Eddie nodded.

Steve led Eddie out of the bathroom and into your room. As soon as Eddie’s eyes laid on you, his eyes watered, his heart raced to what felt like a million beats per minute, and his hands started shaking.

“Oh my God!” he whispered, kneeling next to your bed and grabbing your hand. “What’s all-?” he started. “Why is she hooked on so many things?”

“It’s so they can monitor her and make sure that nothing is wrong, Eddie” Steve said, grabbing his shaking hand.

“She- she looks” he sobbed. “She looks so fragile, Steve” he cried, getting up and burying his head on Steve’s shoulder, unable to look at you any longer.

“I know, love” Steve said, feeling a couple of tears fall from his eyes as he looked at you.

“How can you do this every day?” he whispered. “Y-you were right. I shouldn’t have come… I don’t like seeing her like this” he cried.

“She’s gonna be okay, love” Steve said, kissing his temple. “She’s gonna get better, and we’re gonna bring her home, and Hopper is going to help us with your case and we’re gonna be okay” he said, pulling him closer. “I promise” he said, smiling weakly at Eddie.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You hadn’t expected to wake up. At all. You were certain that you would never see Steve, or Eddie, or any of your friends ever again. But you did. And being back, was not at all what you thought could be. The day you woke up, Steve and Eddie weren’t there. You weren’t alone. Jonathan, Nancy, and Dustin were with you. As soon as you woke up, Dustin called Steve at Family Video and he came over as soon as he could. But you noticed something different about him. He would not make eye contact with you. When he held your hand, he squeezed it a little too tight, but you thought it was just because you were still recovering. Either way, another thing was that he was never alone in the room with you, which you didn’t really mind, but you thought by this point, you would have been able to talk to him. Especially since you were caught up about Eddie still being wanted and not being able to be there. And you missed him so much.

The day you were released finally came. Steve was supposed to come get you after he was done with work but since Joyce was there, visiting Max with Will, she offered to give you a ride and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough back home to your boys. So you accepted. The ride felt longer than anything had in your life but you didn’t care. You were finally back. Patched up and wounded, but back.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come help settle you in?” Joyce asked once she parked on the driveway of the small cabin where you saw Steve’s car.

“Really, you’ve done more than enough, Joyce” you said, giving her a big hug.

“Okay, call me if you need anything else, alright?” she smiled as you got out of the car.

“Thanks, Joyce” you said, closing the door. “Bye, Will” you said, hugging him as he got off the car to get into the front seat.

“Bye, (Y/N)” Will said before getting in and them driving away.

You took a deep breath and started making your way up to the door. You could hear Steve and Eddie discussing something inside but you couldn’t really make up the words. You wanted to open the door but then you remembered this was a different house. This wasn’t your old home, and it was most likely locked because of Eddie’s situation. So, instead, you knocked.

“Who’s that?” Eddie said, looking at the door, as Steve felt his heart drop.

“Go to the room” he instructed.

“Steve-”

“Now, Eddie” he said, widening his eyes at him and Eddie nodded, walking away. Steve made his way over to the door with his bat nearby just in case.

“S-Steve?”

He dropped the bat. He knew that voice. He heard Eddie coming out of the room in less than a second

“Is that-?”

“Eddie?”

It didn’t take long for Steve to open the door and reveal you on the other side.

“(Y/N)!” they said at the same time, standing there, not doing anything else. They both seemed afraid to even touch you. Steve scanned the area just quickly enough to make sure nobody else was there before he pulled you inside.

“Hi” you smiled at them, expecting hugs, kisses, or at least a smile, but nothing came.

“How did you get here?” Steve asked, still looking back just to make sure nothing else happened.

“Joyce gave me a ride. She was visiting Max and the doctor said it was okay for me to be discharged and-”

“I told you I was going to come get you in a few hours, I just came over to change” Steve said, getting upset. Your heart broke a little.

“Steve-” Eddie tried.

“You should have called me” Steve added.

“I didn’t… know what time you got off work and I thought I could um-” you said, grabbing Eddie’s letters from your bag and smiling back at them. “I thought I could make lunch for us” you told them. “Joyce even stopped by the grocery store so I could get everything to make your favorite” you smiled at them.

“Y-you shouldn’t be doing all this work, princess” Eddie said, grabbing the things from you. His heart breaking at the sight of the bandages on your arms. But you could only concentrate on one thing. Princess. You hadn’t heard that in so long. “I’ll make lunch, you just get some rest, okay?” he smiled weakly at you and made his way over to the kitchen.

“Oh” you said, feeling dejected. “O-okay” you told him, trying not to sound so upset.

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna go take a shower” he said, kissing your head quickly and leaving towards the bedroom.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart breaking a little. Something was off. These weren’t your boyfriends. They didn’t even seem happy to have you back. You tried to shake the feeling off and decided to follow Eddie to the kitchen.

“Hi” you smiled, shyly.

“Hey, princess” Eddie smiled at you, before going back to cooking. “You’re supposed to be resting” he told you.

“I feel very well rested” you said, walking closer to him. “Can I help?”

“I got it-”

“Eds” you said, making him look at you. He could see the pleading in your eyes. You were giving him that look that he knew he couldn’t say no to. “Please?”

“Yeah, okay” he sighed.

You grabbed some of the vegetables from the bag and a knife so you could start mincing. You didn’t remember the last time you felt shy around Eddie or Steve. They had always made you feel so comfortable, and love, and save. And now, you felt like you were walking on eggshells. They hadn’t even hugged you. And you missed their hugs so much. But there was so much tension in the air. All you wanted to do was jump into their arms and have them kiss you and spoil you and cuddle you like they used to. You couldn’t even find the courage to ask Eddie how he was. You have no idea what had been going on here since you all came back from the Upside Down but you knew something wasn’t right. You were so lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t even notice Steve coming back into the kitchen.

“I thought Eddie said he would cook” he said, looking at you.

“Uh, I just wanted to help” you tried.

“You should be resting” Steve said, sternly.

“Steve” Eddie warned him as you tried your best to act as if nothing was going on and kept on mincing the mushrooms. But, without meaning to, you cut your finger.

“Shit” you muttered, making your way over to the sink. And that’s when all hell broke loose.

“What happened?” Eddie asked, turning to you.

“Nothing, I just cut myself, is not a big deal” you said putting your finger under water and grabbing one of the towels.

“For fuck’s sake! This is why Eddie told you he would cook!” Steve snapped, as the two of them walked over to you. “Why can’t you ever just listen?!”

“It was an accident” you frowned, confused. “And it’s not even that deep, I just need a bandage-”

“That’s not the point” Eddie said, in a lower tone, but equally angry. “The point is that you just keep doing whatever the fuck you want and you keep getting hurt” he said, glaring at you.

“E-excuse me-?”

“Oh don’t play dumb now!” Steve chuckled angrily. “Not after that shit you pulled on the Upside Down!”

“W-what are you talking about-?”

“What are we talking about?” Eddie said, as he still grabbed your hand, cleaned it up, and place a bandage around your finger. “This” he said, pulling your hand up and pointing at your bandages. “This is what we’re talking about! You almost got yourself killed!”

And then it made sense. They were mad, no, they were furious at you, for what you did.

“I didn’t-” you tried, but you felt your throat tightening. “I just thought-”

“You thought?” Steve snapped. “No, you weren’t thinking!” he said, getting closer to you. “We told you to do one thing. One” he said, with a few tears escaping his eyes. “Don’t play the hero” he said.

“I w-wasn’t trying to-”

“YOU STILL DID!” Steve yelled. Steve never yelled at you. Or Eddie. “We told you that if things went south you had to come back here, with Eddie and Dustin! And you decided to leave! You decided to lock Eddie in the trailer and run out there so all the fucking bats could have a fucking feast on you!”

“N-no, it wasn’t like that-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Steve cut you off. “It doesn’t matter because that’s what happened!”

“Steve” Eddie tried, knowing this could only get worse.

“No! She doesn’t get to do this!” Steve pulled away from Eddie and glared at you. “You don’t get to come here and act as if nothing happened!”

“That’s not what-”

“You’re not the one that had to wake up to Eddie screaming from nightmares of you literally dying in his arms!” he said, pointing at Eddie who looked away from you. “You’re not the one that had to see one of the people you love the most, unconscious in a hospital bed hooked to so many machines and having no idea if you were going to wake up!” he continued, and you now noticed Eddie was crying as well. You made them both cry. You felt your heart breaking into a million pieces. “I had to come and find you almost dead in Eddie’s and Dustin’s arms” he explained. “We had to carry you all the way back and then I had to drive you over to the hospital, trying to make sure that you wouldn’t bleed to death” he said, with tears falling down his eyes as you tried your hardest to contain yours. “I had your blood all over me” he kept going as more angry tears kept falling down his cheeks. “I heard you die” he said, with his voice shaking and you felt your heart drop. Nobody had told you that. And you were certain that Eddie didn’t know about it either because his eyes widened in surprise, looking at Steve. “When I brought you in, you died for like a minute and they had to bring you back. And I heard it” he said, crying harder. “And I couldn’t do anything because you had lost so much blood and I don’t have your blood type but Eddie does, but he couldn’t be there because he had to stay hidden” he yelled.

“Steve, you never told me that” Eddie said, with his deep, quiet voice, pulling his boyfriend closer.

“I didn’t want to” Steve muttered. “You were already blaming yourself” he said, making you feel even worse. “He was blaming himself for not being able to save you” Steve glared at you a little. “He blamed himself for what you did” he told you.

You finally had let your tears fall. You couldn’t take it anymore. You failed them. Eddie was blaming himself, having nightmares, and he couldn’t even try to get back to a normal life because he had to stay hidden. And Steve. Steve had tried to keep everything together. Like he always did. And you weren’t there for him. You left him. Your plan failed. You did what you thought you needed to do to help them and get them out of there safe, but instead, you broke them.

“I’m s-sorry” you said with a shaky, quiet voice, making Steve and Eddie look back at you but you didn’t dare look back at them. You remembered how afraid you were when Eddie had disappeared after Chrissy’s death and you couldn’t find him, and you had no idea if he was okay. And you remembered how terrified the first time you went to the Upside Down and found Steve being eaten by the same demo-bats you tried to fight. And you did the same thing to them. To both of them at the same time. You found yourself squatting down on the kitchen floor as tears ran down your cheeks. All you wanted was for them to hug you and to make everything that happened in the past weeks go away. But you didn’t even feel worthy of their hugs anymore. You didn’t feel worthy of their love anymore. “I’m so sorry” you said, pulling your knees to your chest. “I didn’t mean to do that” you said, wiping away your tears. “I just got scared that we were running out of time” you admitted. “And I didn’t want you to get hurt” you said, still looking at the floor. “Either one of you” you told them. “I love you two so much a-and” you stuttered. “You always take care of me and you always protect m-me and I just…” you sighed. “I just wanted to help” you said, hugging yourself. “I just wanted both of you to be safe” you cried a little harder, resting your head on your knees.

And then… then you felt it. You felt two pairs of arms wrapping around you and pulling you to them. You were back. You were back in their arms and you were safe. You were all safe. You felt soft kisses being pressed against your head and forehead as you kept crying.

“Shh, it’s okay, princess” Eddie said, stroking his back.

“N-no, it’s not” you complained, still not wanting to let go of them. “Y-you were right” you said. “I know what I d-did was reckless a-and stupid and I w-wasn’t thinking, and now I have these stupid ugly scars all over me” you sobbed. “I just w-wanted for you to be okay and instead I hurt you and I made you worry about me, a-and I made you have nightmares a-and-”

“No, sunshine” you heard Steve, pulling you a little closer to him. Sunshine. You also hadn’t heard that in so long. “I’m so sorry” he said, kissing your head. “I didn’t mean to snap at you” he said, holding your hand in his. “I know you were just doing what probably any of us would have done” he told you.

“We were just scared” Eddie said, shedding a few tears again. “We thought we had lost you. But now we have you back” he said, giving you a peck on the lips.

“We missed you so much” Steve cried, kissing you softly as well.

“I m-missed you too” you said, resting your head on Steve’s shoulder as you grabbed Eddie’s hand, playing with his rings. “I’m glad you two are okay” you muttered silently as Steve kissed the side of your head while Eddie kissed your hand. “So, my plan kind of worked” you said, looking up at Eddie who let out a small chuckle.

“Don’t push it, princess” he warned you.

“I really am sorry” you told them, looking up at them.

“We know, sunshine” Steve said, hugging you tighter. “So are we. And we’re just happy you’re okay” he said as they got up, helping you up with them.

“You want to help me finish lunch?” Eddie smiled, pulling you closer.

“No” Steve said, pulling you over and kissing your forehead. “We’ll make lunch. You can just stay here and relax” he said, going back to Eddie.

“But Eddie hates your cooking” you smiled and Steve placed his hands over his heart.

“Alright, it’s not funny anymore” he glared at you and then at Eddie.

“Yes, it is, love” Eddie said, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Hey, sweetheart, I have a question” Steve said as he pulled everything out of the bag. “Why didn’t you get anything to make your favorite?”

“Oh, I just wanted to cook for you two today” you smiled at them.

“Well, lucky for you, we actually made your favorite for desert” Eddie said, grabbing plates filled with everything sweet that you loved so much. You felt your heart flutter and your eyes water again but for a completely different reason. “You didn't think we weren’t going to spoil our girl when she came back from the hospital, right?” he smiled at you and you went over to kiss each one of them.

“Thank you” you said, as Steve hugged you closer to him. “One question, though” you said. “Did Steve cook it or-?”

“Okay, now it’s starting to hurt!” Steve said, glaring at you playfully. But he couldn’t help but smile at you and leaned down to kiss you again. “I love you” he said, looking at you and then at Eddie.

“Me too” Eddie said walking over and kissing you both as well.

“Me three” you said, snuggling back in their arms.

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N hope you liked it :D let me know what you think! :)

505 notes · View notes

beoneofus · 1 year

Note

🎬💉

Okay but I think these would work well mixed together

Do we also request a character? If so can I request Stu Macher? Thx and I love ur work:)

“ I am more than just a copy of you. ”, “ you're just like him. ”

3.17.23

partially edited

hi!! thank you so much <3. I hope you like this, I really am rusty with writing stu and I got really lazy, but I tried to best him. hopefully I did this justice.

pairing┋stu macher x fem! reader

warnings┋angst!! swearing. gore, blood mention. cruel stu. mention of billy. reader being very emotional. gun shot mention, stabbing mention.

summery┋stu tries to kill you and fails. but that doesn't mean he didn't leave you traumatized.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

it should've been obvious.

the horrendous jokes. the description of gore without hesitation. freaking sydney out without any remorse or consideration to her feelings. the shared looks between the two when something bad would come about. the aggression from them both, in general.

It should've been obvious that stu and billy were complete, utter psychopaths. randy pointed out various signs that billy wasn't right in the head and was completely suspicious when it came to the on-scene evidence of being a murderer; horror movies being the incentive to this whole ordeal. and if you played careful enough attention, it was underlined in bold red that stu was his little apprentice.

the blonde had been billy's lap dog from the start so you, as his girlfriend, could've realized at some point that he'd follow the brunette into some scheme such as sociopathism. could have; but didn't. you had feelings of uneasiness around stu multiple times, from the dangerous gleams he'd get in his eyes to the grins he always gave billy when the guy would get just a little too obvious.

you blamed yourself. for not being able to stop stu, and for getting into this situation. If you could have just been a bit smarter, maybe you and sidney wouldn't be in such a predicament.

back pressed to the hallway door that led into the kitchen, you had a hand slapped over your mouth to filter your panicked breathing. tears were brimming the corners of your eyes as you squeezed them shut, too far into the pit of denial that this was even happening, that you didn't even bother to peal them open. hearing your boyfriend and that asshole taunt sidney, spilling that they literally killed her mother in cold blood made you sick to your stomach. you… you need to move, and help her, but the throbbing stab wound in your side was gratefully preventing you from leaping at such a chance.

it hurt, so bad. just knowing you had a hole in your body weakened your state. you weren't all that confident to begin with, so this? It took you back several steps. how the fuck were you going to help her? you'd probably only drag her down and get you both killed.

but no. you could not think that way.

trying your best not to let out a sob, you sucked in your lips; biting down on them while you removed your hand from your mouth. your other hand, which was drenched in blood from holding your side, shakily moved away to lift upwards. you gripped the collar of the jacket you wore and slowly pulled, removing your arms from the sleeves.

once you took it off, you wrapped the article around your waist and tied it tight. It was the most shitty support right now for your wound, but it's the best you had.

swallowing thickly, you carefully looked around the room for anything to use as a weapon. quite frankly, anything can be a weapon, but you needed to consider your choices here considering stu had a gun and billy had a knife.

the best option was one of the pictures hanging on the wall. a plan had already formed in your head, surprisingly quickly. so, slowly, you moved away from the door and side stepped towards the wall.

looking behind you to make sure no one was heading your way, you failed to realize a creak in the floor sounded from the opposite corner that rounded the hallway. by time you looked towards the picture, stu was standing there, drenched in his own blood with the red liquid dripping from his lips.

you instantly froze in fear. just what the fuck were you to do? the gun was in his shaking hand, and a crucial grin was twisted onto his face, and the picture was a little too far from you to just grab and chuck at him. even if you did, he could still shoot you.

“ suuuuurprise, baby! ” his words slightly slurred due to the blood loss, but he still managed to have his usual pep; eyes dramatically widening and hands curling to pump up. “ I didn't think you were still alive. but it looks like ya’ actually escaped billy. ”

“ I.. ” you winced, the throb in your side returning. “ I wouldn't let that dick take me down, stu. ” you were trying your best to sound confident but it's pretty obvious, by your shaking tone, that it wasn't looking too good.

stu giggled wickedly at this, before pausing in a speedy second. he placed a hand to his mouth, eyes wide once more in a mocking manner. “ oh really? you wouldn't let billy kill you? ” his hand moved, so he could slowly lower his head, a menacing smirk showing. “ I think that's a liiiie, baby! and you know how I feel about you lyin’ to me! ” sick, cackling laughter left him; blood flying off of his lips from the messy way his mouth formed words. “ I think you deserve a punishment for that, don't you think? ”

you gulped, before eyeing the brass candle holder on the mini table that stood not too far from you. you were quick to dive forward, and take it in your grip; swinging your arm back to throw it at the males head. “ fuck no! ”

surprisingly, stu managed to move out of the way while you ran. It rammed against the wall behind him, leaving quite an ugly mark. It left him dumbfounded for a moment, but then he gathered himself and whipped his head around to the direction you ran in. clicking his tongue and tsking to himself, he grinned crazily once again. “ not a smart move, y/n! ”

you had bolted straight to the door, hand out stretching to fly towards the handle. you were so close to grabbing it, but a gun shot rang out. a gasp, followed by a blood curdling scream left you, before your body barreled towards the door full force. you slide down against the wood, falling down with a sharp ‘ thump! ’.

a bullet was now lodged into your leg, stuck right down into the bone marrow; you could feel the shit. a gaping hole was in your calf, making you sob and grab at your leg like a hurt child. god did it burn. It felt like a million fire ants were biting you, electricity shocking all the way up to your thigh. even the stab wound didn't hurt this fucking bad - probably because billy didn't get to stab you too deep.

but, fuck, this? It felt like the room was spinning. you could feel your body heating up by the second.

“ see, y/n? ” stu slowly walked over, shaking his head with an overly-dramatic frown on his face. It looked as if it was greatly forced, which it was. “ you made me hurt you, baby. I reeeeally didn't want to, but- ” he sighed. “ I had no choice. you tried to run. ”

“ y-you're fucking sick! ” you screeched, hiccuping out. nothing could detract you from the tremendous pain you felt. “ god, stu, what the fuck! why are you doing this?! ”

his frown instantly flipped upside down. “ why? ” slowly, deeply, he chuckled. “ you wanna know why? ” falling into a fit of low giggles, while slowly turning; scratching his head with the tunnel of the gun. “ well, it's simple really. it's fuuuuun, ” he dragged out the word, turning his gaze to the ceiling. It's as if he was thinking. but then, his gaze shot to you. “ and I can't stand you! ”

over the pounding in your ears and the fact that you were becoming practically numb, it was hard to make out what stu said. but you did, sadly, and it made you freeze up. the grip on your leg loosened, causing it to fall completely limp. “ what? w.. what did I ever do to you? ” more tears brimmed your eyes, the light in the room reflecting off your tears, making it seem more drastic. “ stu… I loved you. w-why the hell do you want to kill me? everyone? ”

“ didn't ya’ listen, babe? ” he snickered. “ it's fun. It fills the thrill in my life. ” pausing, he looked down to the blood stained floor. “ and uh, I'm sensitive. I fall under peer pressure easily. ” shrugging, a side grin slipped onto his lips. “ but y'know, I'm glad billy dragged me into this. It made me realize just how much I want your blood on my hands! ”

your body violently trembled. you could only sit, staring at stu with disgust and disbelief. you don't ever remember doing anything so bad, that stu thought killing you was the only option to filling the angry urge in his heart. I mean, how sick did you have to be? but then again, this man did just say he was killing everyone else for fucking fun.

“ you're crazy… ” you rasped, no longer finding it in you to scream and cry. you just felt empty at this point.

“ really?! ” he faked a gasp. “ what a calfastrophe this is! ” a wide, eye crinkling smirk curled onto his face. this seemed to happen a lot. “ get it? cause your calf is bleeding out? ”

this was no laughing matter to you, which is why you glared, at least the best to what you could muster. vision rather hazy, zeroing in and out, you couldn't see very well. this was very bad considering you needed to get away from him. with a bullet in your leg, stab wound in your side and now vision failing - the odds weren't looking too good for you.

‘ shit.. ’ you thought, lowering your gaze. ‘ this was not the way I imagined going out… ’

stu was stalking towards you by now. you had tried to move, to possibly boost yourself with your leg that wasn't injured, but to even move the other one it hurt like no tomorrow. you were hissing through your teeth with every nudge - there's no way you were making it out of there.

but then both you and stu heard the door that led to the kitchen, slam open. both of you immediately whipped your heads in the direction, only to see billy frantically looking around. It seems as if sidney got away from him.

“ where are you, ya’ bitch?! ” he screamed, anger coating his seething breathes. he was beyond pissed. to let that little cunt get away from him - what the hell was he thinking? “ come oooout, sidney! don't fucking make this harder than it has to be! ”

that's when he spotted you and stu. his gaze moved from his apprentice, onto you, making him realize your pathetic state. this caused him to smirk, before he began walking over; knife wagging back and forth in his hand. “ well, look at this. looks like you actually did something right for once, jackass. ”

billy stopped beside stu, only to harshly gesture towards his gun. “ well, what the hell are you waiting for? kill the bitch! ”

upon demand, stu's smile dropped. he was no longer amused - instead, now getting annoyed with billy. “ I was going to, billy. you interrupted. ” he gestured towards you for dramatic effect - his specialty.

narrowing his eyes at stu, he did the famous dad-point-and-stare - but with his knife. “ fix your fucking attitude. ” he then swirled around, stopping up to you, before lifting his foot and stomping down on your injured leg. suddenly you found it in you to scream again, this one house-shaking; fresh tears leaving past your eyes.

“ f-fuck! STOP! ”

“ SHUT UP! ” billy shouted, spit flying. his ankle twisted, putting more pressure onto the wound. you were gurgling on your sobs at this point.

“ now stu- ” with a sadistic look in his eye, billy turned his neck towards said blonde once again. “ kill her, or I fucking will. ” finally, he picked up his foot. a nasty, huge, purple welt was forming around the entirety of your calf. your breath was coming out in uneven, shaking huffs; lips trembling. saliva leaving your mouth. you were an entire mess and looked so pathetic. but really, you could care less.

stu was left staring billy down, his own eyes squinting into a glare. he said nothing though, because he knew the brunette had the upper hand.

“ fi- ” a sudden bang in the kitchen made both males look towards the area. they stared for a moment, before billy took off; stalking towards the source and banging his fist into the wall on the way there. “ come out, you little whore! I'm gonna slit your fucking throat and leave you to bleed out aaaaaaall over the floor, bitch! ”

but his chatter came to an end. someone slammed open the door of the closet in the hallway and threw themselves towards billy, stabbing him with the tip of an umbrella. they did it once… twice.. before billy was grunting out; wrestling the person.

you could only guess it was sidney. she took ahold of him, and swung him to the floor. while stu watched, astonished and amused, you took it as your chance to scoot towards the door. biting your lips to prevent even more screeching, your shaky palm reached up.

again, no use, because the blonde turned towards you.

“ ah, ah, ah- ” he chuckled goofily, walking towards you. “ I don't think so, princess! ”

you were so angry now. all the pain, the suffering you're dealing with just sitting there taking not only the torment, but the constant hit after hit they gave you mentally. that stu gave you mentally. you couldn't take it - but, here you were, doing nothing. dealing with a gun and stab wound looked easier in movies, but fuck… It wasn't. not at all.

“ get away from me! ” you barked, belligerence in your heavy tone. “ you're so fucking sick, stu, and I refuse to die by the hands of an idiot like you! ”

“ idiot? ” his smile dropped, as he parked his feet right in front of your figure. he looked taken back by what you said. you knew he wasn't lying when he said he was sensitive - it was true. you knew this, you are - were his girlfriend, after all. “ I'm - I'm no idiot. ” his tone was wobbly… which was pretty rich, considering the predicament.

scoffing, you swallowed down the pain you were dealing with. “ yeah, you are. billy was right - you never do anything right. ”

gritting his teeth, stu took ahold of the gun and grabbed the barrel; spinning it until a click was heard. “ uh huh. and you know what else he was right about? ”

you didn't reply, only staring with shaky eyes. but he looked at you, jaw rotating with a grind. “ I said, do you know what the fuck else he was right about?! ”

“ ... no. ” you spoke out, quietly.

“ you are just like me! ” his voice cracked, tears punching the corners of his eyes now. stu was absolutely insane with the look he bored; smile lifting shakily, with anger. “ a copy of me. we're just like each other, y/n. that's why I liked you so much… ” his smile fell. “ and that's why I can't stand ya’ now, baby! ” a manic, unhinged ring of laughter left him. “ which is whyyyy! I'll have such a good fucking time, putting a bullet straight through your. damn. skull! ”

you seethed on the inside, outwardly shaking. did he really just compare you to him? “ I'm nothing like you! ” you cried out, almost choking on her words. “ I.. I am more than just a copy of you, stu. I'm my own person. I'm sane! ” you swallowed, coldness and hatred clouding your orbs. “ you… you're not. ”

“ hey, stu! ” you and stu had managed to block out the fight in the back, as you two had your own assortment; drastically arguing, discussing matters that were pointless. it was enough just for sidney to knock billy out, and now, she was trying to capture the blondes attention to potentially end him.

he fell for it - turning around, only to see his best friend out cold. stab wounds coating his chest from the umbrella, with blood everywhere.

eyes flickering onto sidney, stu sneered. “ you bitch! ” he ran towards her, but she was faster. she ducked, dodging him just by a few hairs, before clumsily running away from him. he followed her like the gullible fuck he was.

stu tried to shoot the dark haired girl, but missed. just as she flew out of the way and he marched towards her, she grabbed the nearest item, and threw it at his head. managing to finally knock him down.

the gun flew out of stu's grasp, and he fell. hand moving to grip his now aching forehead.

“ you fucking- ” he looked up, only to meet sidney's gaze. she smiled tightly, not letting him finish his sentence, before she pushed the tv above him right onto his head.

the sound of buzzing electricity could be heard, followed by muffled yelling and gargling. the tv electrocuted his face, frying him from the inside. you held your breath at this, eyes wide, but thankful sidney killed the son of a bitch.

she breathed in, heart racing. “ it's… finally over. ” sidney huffed, her eyes slowly moving towards the gun stu had. walking over, she bent down and picked it up; hand shaking from the pain in her arm, and the trauma she just endured.

it wasn't long before randy ran into the room. “ r.. randy? ” you wheezed out, eyes finally drooping shut. “ I thought.. you died. ”

“ holy shit, y/n! ” the male ran over to you, immediately cringing at your mangled leg. nonetheless, he crouched down beside you. “ shit, we need an ambulance immediately! ” his hands were worriedly, anxiously running through his hair. “ oh my god. I didn't think stu had it in him to be this fucking brutal. billy, I can see- he always struck me as crazy. but stu? god- ” randy continued to ramble, cracking a grin out of you. but, it was only seconds later that your head pulled forward from you passing out. hair framing your face.

“ oh- fuck. sidney, she passed out! ”

“ don't worry. ” sidney limped towards you both. “ the police and ambulances are on their way. ”

the sound of drowned out, irritating beeping filled your ear when you finally came to. hushed whispering and the clinking of metal, and the thumping of plastic on plastic hit your ears as well, so overbearing that you groaned; rotating your head, furrowing your brows. where the hell…

stu. billy. they tried to kill you…

It all came back instantly. the killings, the ghostface mask, the blood and the pain. your eyes opened instantly, but immediately shut from the blinding light hitting you.

“ geez… turn it off. ” your voice was very dry, as was your throat. but, it looked like you speaking is what needed to be done, given it alerted the people in your room.

“ y/n! ” you heard the voice of your older sister, relief and worry in her tone. the scraping of her shoes against the floor, until they were right next to you, informed you she was now beside the bed you laid on. “ oh my god.. thank god you're awake. ”

after managing to open your eyes, you gestured towards your throat. after dealing with such shit and being asleep for who knows how long, you were parched. your sister instantly understood and handed you a glass of water that was on the bedside table.

you drunk it gratefully, gulping down every last drop. “ I honestly thought I died.. ” you gasped out, your eyes trained on the styrofoam in your grasp.

“ not quite yet. ” another voice butted into the conversation. once you looked up and spotted a white coat, you assumed it was the doctor. “ you lost a lot of blood and nearly your leg.. but you weren't close to dying. unless, of course… ” she cleared her throat to dismiss the thought. “ the bone in your leg has cracked a fair amount, but we managed to get the bullet out safely. we did minor surgery, and you won't be walking around for a few months. you may have a permanent limp as well, but besides that, everything looks good. ”

“ what about my stab wound..? ” you tiled your head to the side in curiosity. by the smile you were offered, you assumed it wasn't too bad.

“ nothing major, ” she adjusted her stethoscope. “ the knife just dug deep enough to stop blood flow from one of your veins, but with some stitches and the unclogging of a blood clot, everything is fine. ”

“ thank god… ” you muttered, looking away. If something serious had happened you would have a huge freak out. your heart was already racing from everything, so bad news was the last thing you needed.

“ I'll leave you girls alone. ” the blonde nodded to you both, before turning and exiting the room. silence confined you both, before your sister spoke up.

“ they're both dead. ” was the first thing she spoke of. “ sidney… sidney managed to kill them, so you have nothing to worry about any longer. ”

“ ... good. ” your tone was dead. I mean, how else would you respond to that? “ those motherfuckers are rotting in hell now. they deserve it. ”

“ ... you know, you're just like him. ”

you paused, recalling what stu had said to you. It's like the memory of what he commented burned into your brain and was slowly playing back, much like a recorded audio. “ who? ”

“ dad. ” you let out a breath of relief. if she would've said what you thought she was gonna say, you'd possibly lose it. “ how so? ” it was only appropriate to ask what she meant.

“ you're brave, y/n. and strong. ” her hand grabbed yours, squeezing it. “ I just… if I was in your shoes, I wouldn't be talking like you are now. I'd be traumatized. ”

dryly, you chuckled, rolling your neck so that you face her. you looked in your sister's eyes with seriousness. “ I am. It's just hard not to act normal. I don't… feel myself anymore, at least not right now. ” you pressed your lips together. “ but, I can't just stop functioning. ”

slowly, a smile formed on your sister's face… “ you're right.. I'm just glad you're alive. ” tears were brimming her waterline.

“ yeah… ” you looked away, thoughts clouding your mind. “ I am too. ”

#scream #scream franchise #scream movie #scream 1996 #scream x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #stu macher x you

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domripley · 7 months

Text

Just Between Us

kinktober 2022 day 6: blowjobs

pairing: billy loomis x stu macher

warnings: implied cheating, friends with benefits, soft dom!billy, oral sex (billy recieving), mentions murder, bisexual billy, stu is a good boy

summary: Billy can't help it - Stu looks really good dressed as Ghostface.

“Hey do you want to try something with me? But it has to stay between us.” Billy asked, looking over at his best friend Stu, who was taking off his Ghostface mask. Setting it down, Stu turned to face Billy who was laying on his couch. He wasn’t sure where Billy was going with this, but he knew it had to be interesting.

“C’mon man, we’re literally killing our friends. I think I can keep whatever you’re about to say between us.” Stu said, rolling his eyes with a laugh. Billy realized how dumb that did sound, considering they were killing everyone around them.

“I meant you can’t tell Tatum or Sidney if you agree to do this.” Billy clarified, even though they did plan on killing them soon – he just didn’t want their plan to be ruined.

“I won’t tell them, what’s up?”

Billy took a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves. He wasn’t sure as to why he was this nervous, but he figured it was because he wasn’t aware of how Stu would react to his admission.

“I like you Stu, and seeing you dressed up like that… it makes me want you in ways I know I shouldn’t. Especially since I’m with Sidney and you’re with Tatum.” Billy admitted, watching Stu’s face grow red.

“What do you think about?” he whispered, sitting on the edge of the couch.

Billy sighed, “I really want you to suck my cock while you’re still wearing that. W-Would you?”

Billy wasn’t normally this nervous, but Stu made him feel things and even though a part of him loved Sidney, he was only with her to get closer to her. He wanted Stu and Stu only.

“I’ll do it.” He said without any hesitation, which threw Billy off. He wasn’t expecting Stu to be all for it or even that quick to do so.

Billy threw the blanket off himself and onto the floor, making a mental note that he’ll wash it later before Sidney came over. She was supposed to be at his house at nine and it was only five – they had enough time. Deciding to help him out, he pulled his pajama pants down to his knees. Billy took some of his cock into his hands, holding it in place while Stu leaned down to lick at the tip of it. Occasionally squeezing it, he wanted to be harder before he let Stu do all the work.

“Fuck man, your tongue feels really good.” Billy gasped as Stu used one of his hands to play with his balls.

Closing his eyes, Billy tried his best to focus on Stu and only Stu but a part of him felt a little guilty. His thoughts soon left him once Stu pushed his hand away and he took him into his mouth.

“Good boy.” Billy groaned, bucking his hips a little up so Stu took more of him into his mouth.

Billy lifted his shirt up so he could play with his nipples, wanting nothing more than to come down Stu’s throat, he also wanted to last for as long as he could. Stu took more of Billy into his mouth, moving his hand away from his friend’s balls, he gripped the rest of his cock. Trying his best to keep a rhythm going – sucking Billy’s cock and jerking off the part he couldn’t get his mouth on at the same time. He hoped that he was doing a good job, a part of him wanting his friend to praise him some more. Billy kept fucking Stu’s mouth the best he could, not wanting to be too rough with him.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good. You’re doing so good. Such a good boy,” Billy moaned, moving his hands away from his nipples so he could grip Stu’s hair. Keeping him in place, Billy fucked his face harder. Stu let go of his cock, realizing his hand wasn’t helping any more. Billy was close and Stu needed to help him get to where he needed.

“I’m coming,” Billy breathed, closing his eyes as he came in Stu’s mouth. Stilling his hips as Stu pulled away from him, swallowing everything that was in his mouth. “Good fuckin’ boy. I’ll return the favor tomorrow; I’ve got to get up and take a shower before she gets here. Make sure you take all that off before you leave.”

Stu wiped his mouth on Billy’s blanket, not wanting to leave his friend's house with come on his face. “I’m going to change and then leave.”

#billy loomis x stu macher #my writing #mine

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thestobingirlie · 1 year

Note

To add to to anon about Nancy's common sense or lack thereof in s4. Idk if it's on the Duffers but yet again Nancy just exhibits reckless behavior when investigating Chrissys murder. Like bfr you are writing for a high school paper, you have zero investigating journaling experience (aside from Murray) and you drag in another guy who has even less experience. What high school paper would also publish this article? It's literally about one of their students. The parents would probably sue them. Again I see people saying it's her trauma of needing to solve things fast because she failed Barb but still. She should have known better than to drag in another person, after what happened with Jonathan and them getting fired for all we know the high school could have suspended them if the article went through. It's like she doesn’t think about the bigger picture. I would love if that would be addressed in the show, that Nancy's tunnel vision is a negative trait she needs to unlearn because she caused so much hurt with it. But that would require the writers to acknowledge Nancy's lack of empathy as well. (Ppl claim Nancy talking to Wayne shows how she's such a sweet and caring person, when in reality she manipulated him to get her story and clues. She's very selfish which I love but I would like it even more if it was portrayed as a negative trait with consequences)

Then later after Vecna revealed his plan to Nancy, she shot everyone down (Steve and Eddie) who were like nope this plan sucks. Steve literally is their best fighter (with Hopper and El) if he has reservations the group should listen to him. Nancy's need to be right and not listening to others got us in this mess and I hope they address it and she can learn from it in s5. I hate when people say well Steve is just against everything, he doesn't care look how dismissive he is when in reality him putting a stop to things is him trying to keep the group save. Besides Steve, nobody really has common sense, they are smart nerds but they need people like him who can strategitize. I mean he was captain of the basketball team and swim team, he's a leader with good ideas.

Nancy also getting a gun instead of a flamethrower shows she doesn't have common sense. When did her guns help anyone? In s3 in the cabin it was Lucas and Jonathan who got El out from the Mindflayers grip and she couldn't disable the car. It's established since s2 the Mindflayer/Vecna hates heat, guns don't do anything only buy you some time. And I hate that Nancy's moment of shooting Vecna was framed as the most iconic and important moment in vol2, when it was Steve and Robin who lit him up and did the most damage. Without that they would have been dead. Nancy saw him covered in vines primary to that moment, she should know vines especially don't care about bullets, if Vecna has them as his body armor why tf would she use the gun.

yeah, it is funny that she investigates a murder as if she’ll be able publish it in the school paper, and she lies to wayne about who she is, saying she works for a ‘small paper’. girl, you’re in journalism club.

i definitely think she feels like she has to solve it because of barb, though honestly i don’t really understand why she drags fred along. like, she doesn’t know chrissy’s death has anything to do with the upside down, and she seems to bin fred off pretty quickly to talk to wayne. and i would’ve thought that after last season she would’ve decided she was better off investigating alone. she doesn’t even seem to like fred much, why bring him along?

i definitely think that would’ve been a better story line, that nancy decides to work alone, and realises that you just can’t do this kind of stuff alone, and that she does need people. because nancy’s development relies on her making friends, so why cut her further away from others when she could have a realisation that she needs steve and the kids. instead the duffers just killed off another teen in close proximity to her to make her feel guilty.

yeah, nancy totally gets tunnel vision and is selfish, which is a super interesting character trait, if it were acknowledged!

the way steve literally said it was a shit plan, and then they ended up losing. but will that be acknowledged? no.

but yeah, steve was a team captain, he should be good at delegating and deciding the risk of things, and i don’t think it makes sense that nancy should be in charge of a group. in the same way that i wouldn’t put murray in charge of a group. nancy is smart, but like you said earlier, she gets tunnel vision, she struggles to recognise a situation outside of her own opinions. she’s not the most empathetic, and i think she often cares more about being right than other people feelings, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it’s not a great personality trait for a leader.

i’m so tired of the gun thing. it never works! it’s used to try and make nancy look badass and then she never even kills anything! everyone else has to do the killing while she shoots her useless guns. lucas literally chopped the mind flayer with a fucking axe, but people only ever care about nancy with a shotgun in her arms. give her a fucking flamethrower, that’d be awesome.

#nancy wheeler critical #steve harrington #stranger things #asks #anon

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natsubeatsrock · 2 months

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The Lucy Paradox

I'm going to get murdered for posting this on Tumblr, huh?

Somehow, I've never talked about this. I've made this joke in private. However, it's worth discussing in this format. Think of it as a celebration of International Women's Day.

Incidentally, Lucy isn't the one who I named this paradox after. The original name of this was the Sakura Paradox. For the record, I mean Sakura Haruno from Naruto.

It feels like a given that Sakura is a weak character. The way some fans talk about her, you'd think she was the worst character in the series. The closest example I can think of is Yamcha, whom no one takes as a threat past the first arc of Dragon Ball. After the big-time skip, he's treated as the joke of the group, especially by fans.

Here's the problem. Sakura's very strong. That's true in a literal sense, but she has more ability than fans give her credit for. It's not a stretch to say she's the strongest civilian in the series universe.

"Yeah, that's true in the second half. But what about in part 1?"

Do you mean the part where she has a better grip on chakra control than her teammates? Or the part where she's shown to ace the first part of the Chunin Exam without having to cheat? What about later in the exam when she breaks out two separate genjutsu? Yeah, I'm not hearing it.

Why do people say she's weak? Simple, she'd been dwarfed in power by monsters. It's not controversial to say Sakura is the worst member of Team 7, with the potential exception of Sai, if you even count him. It's not a close race between her, Sasuke, and Boruto's dad. She's a distant third. The only debate is how badly she's lapped.

If this sounds like I'm insulting her, it's not. Those two might be the strongest characters in the universe, with no qualifiers or exceptions. From what I've heard about Boruto, they're still doing crazy things years after their time in the spotlight should be over.

I call this the Lucy Paradox because fandom might not be fully aware of how incredible Lucy is. She's on the level of magic to use two gold Celestial Spirit Keys at the same time. It's impressive if someone's able to use two keys. She can mix and match between any of the ten she has.

Remember that she's the only wizard capable of Celestial Star Dress. At its introduction, it was just being able to take the abilities of her spirits. In the sequel, it's also the ability to combine the powers of two different spirits.

Let's take that for granted for a second. Lucy comes up with strategies that are helpful to her friends. And it's not just helping Natsu's fights. She's the one who recognized the true meaning behind Daybreak. She's the one who saw through the Eclipse Gate in two different timelines. She rewrote the entirety of the Book of E.N.D. after reading it once. Most importantly, she's the one who revises Anna's plan to make it possible to defeat Acnologia.

I say all that, but she's the weakest human member of the Strongest Team. She's never been on Natsu or Gray's level. Erza's not an S-Class mage for nothing, even if you want to argue that Natsu's overtaken her. While Wendy started weak, she's surpassed Lucy in the last arcs of the main series. I'm not cruel enough to say that Carla is even close to better than her. However, if your only meaningful competition is the Exceeds, that's not great.

Though, let's back up and think about that last paragraph. Lucy is the weakest member of the Strongest Team, no doubt. She's not the weakest member of Fairy Tail. Let's ignore the no-named scrubs who show up for a couple of lines every four volumes Lucy clears. If Lucy joined Shadow Gear, she might be the team's ace. She was able to hold her own with Cana as her partner. (Speaking of which, Tenrou Island is another situation where her planning came in the clutch, and I can't believe I didn't talk about it earlier.) She's more powerful than the Strauss kids not named Mirajane. I'd even go so far as to say she could make a solid member of the Thunder God Tribe.

This is probably where someone else would make this about feminism and how shonen writers aren't good at writing women. (Except for the rare female writers.) I get this for Kishimoto whose writing of women is indefensible. Akira Toriyama (R.I.P.), who influenced much of the genre as we've seen it, isn't much better with how he handles his women.

But Mashima?

I know the fanservice can be way too much at times. But, as I mentioned years ago, his women are better written than fans often give him credit for. Lucy loses to two women on her team. Some of the best story arcs in Fairy Tail revolve around characters like Lucy, Cana, and Erza. I'd put Erza's character up against almost any other female character in a similar narrative role in the same genre. I don't care that she punched that meteor that one time. She's still a better character than a lot of them.

No, this issue is more the fault of fans and their pesky expectations. They see characters who aren't the strongest and assume they're weak. Fans do this despite the advanced strength of other characters and the narrative role of the characters.

I wouldn't say that we have a feminist problem. I'd say we don't recognize the strength of femininity.

I'm just going to come out and say it. Women are great because they're not men, and vice versa. I'm in favor of getting rid of some of the restrictive gender roles culture places on both genders. That shouldn't come at the expense of making women more like men.

"Doesn't that mean that we can't have women who fight and have active roles in media, similar to typically male characters?"

You know what? That might be the most eloquent I've made this voice sound.

My answer is simple. Why can't we have both?

Why can't we have our Rukia and our Orihime? Why can't we have our Tifa and our Aeris? (Or is it Aerith?) Why can't we have our Lucy and our Erza?

Now, don't get it twisted. I love seeing physically strong women in fiction. She-Hulk is one of my favorite heroes in Marvel comics. (I hate that I have to specify comics.) Jupiter is my favorite of the Sailor Guardians. Homura is my favorite member of the EZ Crew. However, a strong character is a good character, and vice versa.

The best thing about the traditional female characters is how they manage their lack of physical strength. They use their wit and charms to their advantage instead of brute force. Men rely on power and speed. Women focus on flexibility and accuracy.

I like to think of it in sports terms. If traditional masculine traits are more offensive, feminine traits are considered more defensive. Both are necessary for teams to succeed. Some sports require people to switch between both roles. However, players usually excel at one of the two.

"What about sports like fencing and the martial arts?"

You need to switch between offense and defense quicker than other sports. However, is it good if a fencer only parries attacks and never thrusts? Is being able to throw punches without blocking a great boxing strategy?

What makes characters compelling has nothing to do with either masculine or feminine traits. (At least, it shouldn't.) What matters are their virtues and determination. It may manifest itself differently in male and female characters. However, it's not as if women can't show strength without sending people through walls. It's not as if men can't show tenderness without caring for children.

The most essential trait for characters might be weakness. How do characters make up for their failings? How do they overcome the conflicts they face? These things draw us to good characters, no matter their gender.

Let's compare two fictional women. Sophie Hatter from Howl's Moving Castle and Captain Marvel.

Carol Danvers is an unfortunate case. She started as a character with solid writing in the comics as a side character. Her solo series as Ms. Marvel in the Civil War era is pretty good. However, since becoming the new Captain Marvel, she's been defined by her power and little else. Despite Marvel's best efforts, fans have not latched onto her new persona.

The MCU didn't help. Captain Marvel was one of the weakest movies in Phase 3. Even at the time, it was clear that its success was attached to the Avengers' success. Few people praised the movie on its own merits. Even fewer had meaningful defenses for its many critics.

Captain Marvel was a physically strong character with no weaknesses. She was so strong that the government she was working for had to limit her powers. However, Carol wasn't the best character the MCU has put out. She didn't endear herself to the audience, had no real connections to the main cast outside of Fury, and became a textbook example of a strong female character without the character part of the equation. Ironically, the best movie to handle her was the one where she barely showed up.

Then there's The Marvels.

It's unfair to say that the movie only flopped because of Captain Marvel's character. That movie's failure has much more to do with the current state of Disney and Marvel Studios. However, part of the plot's failings is because of Carol's lack of weaknesses. They had to find a way to nerf her and chose to tie her to the other characters. They had to find a way to show her connections to the universe and married her off-screen to a South Korean actor on a planet where everyone communicates through singing. No wonder it bombed the same year Guardians of the Galaxy did well.

Sophie Hatter (it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that was her last name) is the protagonist of Howl's Moving Castle, one of Hayao Miyazaki's most beloved works and one of my favorite anime. Miyazaki is no stranger to writing strong women. While I could pick either of the women from Princess Mononoke, Sophie is for the point I want to make.

She is by no means strong. She has no magic and has to rely on Howl and Calcifer many times throughout the story for protection. In a cast of magical individuals, she might be one of the weakest members of the cast.

However, she is far from a weak character. Even at her most insecure, she shows great inner strength and determination. She's determined to find a way to get back to her younger self. She doesn't shrink at the task of cleaning Howl's house. Not to mention, she becomes the heart and soul of the castle. (No pun intended.) It makes sense that she gets younger as she becomes more assured in herself. Ironically, she proves to be braver than Howl. He gains strength and courage from her.

Sophie's strength doesn't come from her ability to use magic or how many soldiers she can knock out. Her strength is more of an inner strength. It's an unshakeable will to achieve what is necessary. That causes her to push past her insecurity and grow throughout the movie. It's no wonder that so many people love her and the movie.

In Conclusion:

If you want to make a strong female character, that's a fine goal. What matters is that you focus more on the "character" than the "strong."

#tfw you diss toriyama's writing in a post #only to hear that he died #i hate it here

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02sjy · 2 years

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Lack Of Love ❥ 10: THE park sunghoon

park sunghoon x fem!reader [ she/her]

❥ synopsis- you and isa are roommates in college who live next to park sunghoon and his friends who are always throwing parties and are loud no matter the day or time, and because of that you and sunghoon both have had a hatred for each other, but what happens when you have to fake date sunghoon for a project.

❥ genre- social media au, fluff ??, enemies to lovers, college au, angst ?? fake dating

❥ taglist [ open ]- @enhacolor @yunki4evr @diestheticu @abdiitcryy @hobistigma @rrinsluvr @hereforsunrise @soobins-gf

❥ wordcount- 586

sunghoon had kept on honking the horn of his car every 5 minutes ever since he got here so you tried getting ready quickly and tried to put on something nice but you just ended up throwing on one of sungchan’s hoodies and some biker shorts with some crocs. you quickly grabbed you phone and your wallet then walked out the door and got into sunghoon’s car.

“finally. took you like 10 years just to put that on ?” he said and started driving away

“god sunghoon you’re seriously so annoying” you rolled your eyes at him and the rest of the car ride was silent apart from the music playing on the radio.

after a few minutes you guys had arrived at a small cafe near a park that had literally no one inside. as you both got out of the car you had asked him what he wanted to talk about but he said he’ll talk about it later. you guys had went in the cafe and ordered your drinks then went outside and walked around for a while.

“what is it..” you ask him but he just turns to look at you with confusion on his face

“what you wanted to talk about” you said and he sighed then went to sit down at a table so you followed him and sat across from him

“oh.. look the fight jay and i had was stupid I admit it. im sorry for lashing out on you. i was just really pissed off that karina and isa didn’t go through with the plan that i had. i get where jay is coming from. i mean if I saw someone do what i did to you to someone that i deeply cared about i would have acted the same way. but i don’t regret what i said..about putting in all this effort for this project when at the end of it we’ll both go back to hating each other. this whole thing we have going on is fake and i really shouldn’t be getting jealous. again im sorry.” he says and you notice him starting to play with his hand nervously. you didn’t know what to say. this was a completely different side of sunghoon than you were used to. if you had told yourself 6 days ago that THE park sunghoon would be apologizing to you, you would’ve tell yourself that you had have gone insane, but sure as hell here you are.

“sunghoon.. it’s fine don’t worry. i get where you’re coming from. but you should be apologizing to jay” you said to him and let out a soft smile

“you know he told me you were about to start crying right ??” he slightly raised his eyebrow and looked at you.

“oh..um.. look let’s change the topic. you apologized so it’s fine now. don’t worry” you said and got up to go throw your trash away

sunghoon couldn’t help but think of what he could’ve done that night that made you cry. was it when he gripped your wrist ?? or was it when he drove off ?? that was the only thing on his mind for the rest of them time you guys were together which was only for 30 minutes until he drove you home and he left. and yet when he was about to go to sleep he was still thinking about what could’ve made you cry but what he didn’t expect that night was karina texting him out of the blue…

prev | masterlist | next

❥ pairing- park sunghoon x fem!reader , fratboy!parksunghoon x fem!reader

❥warning- swearing/cursing, sarcastic jokes about death/murder, kms/kys jokes

❥ header credits- @seungstarss

a/n- I have a layout of the next few chapters so I’ll be trying to post every other day of every day around 8-9pm est

#enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smau #enhypen social media au #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon smau #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon angst #sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfic #enhypen sunghoon

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originemesis · 3 days

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@deathinfeathers xxx

"A WEEK- you can't serious? That's like premeditated murder...of my DICK-"

Meaning as far as his special allergies went, he'd either be curled up for a week in an excruciating ball of swollen frustrations, or develop a case of sausage fingers. Neither was ideal. "And murder's like one of the top no-no's up here, babe." Never mind they both committed demoncide on an annual basis - that shit was cleared by HR.

Clearly exempt.

Still, despite the convincing cut of a promise behind those threats of hers, he can't help but find a spot of amusement in the revelation that she seemed to actually care how fresh her cunt smelled. He might even call it precious- that was, if she wasn't about to ram a literal alien dick up his ass. Damn it- that was definitely not an original design! Hadn't he specified none of that eldritch horror shit? The memory of her smoothing his feathers and informing him that of course she went with that one because the Halloween collection was obviously on major sale during the spring briefly returned to the scrunch of irritation between his brows. Maybe it wasn't her cunt that was as fishy as he thought with explanations like that.

"Well at least something's getting laid here." The debate in question. His tone had tipped towards the lazy end of tense. "Seeing as I'm just here to play a game of guinea pig to your eldritch euphoria, huh ~?" And if such a sentiment held any semblance of bruised feelings for being thought of as a mere prop in the blossoming exchange of 'told you so's', he bit them along with his lip as she set about assessing the positioning of their current entanglement like she were cleaning up any of his usual sloppy extermination plans.

"You didn't make a stick it to the man joke there, so I'm gonna assume you're already in deep with me." Musing aside, he scoffs at the accusation. Whining, huh? "I mean, once my 'week probation' is up, I could dick YOUR ass and see if there's any other sound clip involved?? Don't even try that shit with me- erk!?" The talons tucking in to the mound of his throat choke off any other pet names he could pepper her with, and for the time being- any sound that sought escape (as well as any smart ass remarks) built up a pressure and thrummed under the tightening of her grip.

With a sulky shift from being silenced from his stress-relief known as shit talking, he ground his teeth around the tail end of a choked out grunt when she began her onslaught of hip twists and depth defying twitches. If there's any mercy present, its that her hand is choking out the potential of any so called girlish moans to manifest- not that they would when he's far too focused on why the hell her toy seems stuck deeper than it was when she'd first plunged it- right on a knot that seemed rooted and resistant to her low effort attempts at removing it- or perhaps testing its hold in securing them together. This is not what he meant when he told her he'd intended to tie the knot with her for quite a while now.

"Hrrghfff-" A choked exhale of a complaint sizzled out between clenched teeth and a flare of nostrils as he found the stern weight of her gaze growing blurry behind a golden layer of wet welling up over his vision. Not that he was finding it easy to see straight at the moment anyway- not when her persistent rendition of his own 'pussy pounding' by her words triggers every feather along his wings to suddenly fluff out and stand on end while a deep but fleeting spasm earned one of her calves an involuntary kick.

#verse ; // six months remaining #//the peggening at it again-#suggestive cw #nsft cw #deathinfeathers

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averagetm · 11 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒: this is just a little post involving headcanons that I have, this scenario goes with the implication that Artemis and Bruce are dating & that she knows he’s Batman. All of this is just a little self-indulgent fun on my side of things, I’ll never force these headcanons or assumptions onto another person, I’m literally just here playing dumb barbies and releasing brain rot U w U Also, for my own sanity, I'm not going to include the archives in these, probably?

𝗝𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗗

✿ ; From the moment that Bruce let it slip that he was seeing someone ( and that it was serious ) Jason took it upon himself to make sure that Artemis wasn’t hiding anything suspicious ——— without a doubt, the first concern that everyone had was that she was after his money. Alongside digging up what he could in terms of a dossier, he physically followed her for a few weeks / generally kept track of her movements within the city. Jason grew very, very bored with this self-appointed task once he came to the realisation that she wasn’t hiding anything.

✿ ; It took a little while for Jason to warm up to Artemis, initially keeping his distance from the woman ( it’s just who he is, there wasn’t anything personal to it ) eventually, the two grew incredibly close and whilst Jason is younger than Artemis, she considers him to be an older brother. Artemis is one of the few people that are allowed in his space when he’s . . . being anti – social ——— this is mostly because she doesn’t pester him with trying to talk about his feelings, but she does let him know that he’s there.

✿ ; Initially, Artemis was not aware of Jason’s murder and revival ( Bruce had meant to tell her, but it was kinda forgotten about since everyone kinda knows ? ) she was informed about the events after a joke was made and she had given everyone a very confused look. In that moment, Artemis went through a range of emotions and responses that everyone else had felt across years - she’s still processing the information - when the story was finished, not only was she nearly in tears, she turned to Jason, gripped his sleeve and ‘ ARE YOU OKAY???’ he just . . . gave her a little awkward pat on the head because it was so long ago. Yes, Artemis sides with Jason when he gives Bruce shit.

✿ ; Artemis has taken notice of Jason and the trauma that he tends to ignore —— how the scraping of metal against cement makes him pale, how certain noises from a gun makes him flinch ——— she’s not always able to be there for him, but when she witnesses’ him being tugged back to that day, she’s there to help him, to calm him down and ground him into reality. Artemis tends to be the first one to notice, due to her own traumatic responses to certain triggers.

✿ ; Jason will often sneak into the library when she’s working ——— he’ll browse the classics section and make himself comfortable behind the desk with her. It isn’t something he’ll ever admit to, but it’s to keep her company so she’s not so alone during her shifts, though he doesn’t do this if there are students in the library already. Sometimes, he’ll use the excuse of bringing her dinner.

✿ ; During the time where they’re unable to get out of attending events, Jason and Artemis are already plotting their escape within the first five minutes ——— these plans are often incredibly dramatic in their nature, and they’re always caught by Alfred who somehow manages to sneak up on the two without them knowing. In the end, they just settle upon being bitter in the corner and low – key grumbling about how everyone in the room sucks. Admittedly however, they do eventually enjoy themselves.

✿ ; Artemis being harmed is something that is inevitable ( if not for her ties with Bruce, then due to living in Gotham ) any harm that is inflicted upon her by another person, is met with a violent rage from Jason ( assuming he’s not the only person with her, then his priority would shift to helping her ) it relates back to their sibling – esque relationship, which only becomes stronger with time, that rage being pulled from a fiercely protective side.

✿ ; Whilst Bruce might be hesitant about Artemis touching anything in the Batcave, Jason encourages this curiosity in the worst way possible ; from letting her use the grappling hook within the cave, to showing her how to throw the batarangs ( she can’t throw them to save her life ) these two a practically children in a cave filled with gadgets and equipment. Anytime that they’re caught by Bruce, Jason uses Artemis as a shield.

✿ ; In general, their relationship has a lot of banter ——— they’re the type of people to call each other an offensive name with affection implied.

#/ 𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗔 ✦ ( mini headcanon )

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scuttling · 3 years

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Long Time Coming

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,664 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, Reader has a few one night stands, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex, Blow jobs/Face fucking, Hairpulling, Fingering, Praise and degradation, Dirty talk, Accidental reveal of feelings, TW blood/cut Summary: You have been in lust (and love) with Aaron for a while, but his new look sends you off the deep end, and it's enough to make you do some pretty crazy things. *Inspired by @ssamorganhotchner and these three pics. Link to A03 or read below! You are fresh off yet another unsuccessful first date when Aaron wears the new suit. You, Emily, JJ, and Penelope are standing by the coffee maker, complaining about the pitfalls of online dating and how people are never they way they seem when you actually meet in person; you have the carafe in your hand, filling your mug, and when he walks in, face in a case file, his pants so tight you can make out his hips and thighs as clearly as if he were naked… You kind of lose your shit. And your grip.

The carafe shatters when it hits the tile floor, spraying shards of glass and hot coffee everywhere; Emily gasps, Penelope jumps back to avoid the splatter, JJ runs for a broom, and you just stand there, staring at Aaron—at his tight slacks, at his belt, at his shirt, tucked neatly inside, then at his dangling tie, and finally, his worried face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, because you have literally not moved a muscle since he arrived; your boots are covered in coffee—you are thankful you dressed casually today and aren’t wearing heels, or you’d be in a lot of pain—and your heart is racing, but otherwise you feel frozen, unable to move or look away.

You’ve wanted Aaron for a long time, and everyone knows it but him. It’s part of the reason you’re smothering yourself with online hookups and blind dates and one night stands: because he is off limits, and you’re desperately horny for him, and you need to have him fucked out of your mind one way or another.

The new suit further complicates things.

“Fine,” you say after a few more seconds, and JJ comes back with the broom and dustpan, so you bend down to help her clean up your mess. It wasn’t your brightest idea, because you are now at eye level with the tight crotch of his pants, and all you can think of is working the zipper open, pulling him carefully past the fly, sucking him off until those big hands slip into your hair and tug roughly when he comes.

God. You’re going to have to go on another bad date. Or ten.

“New suit?” Penelope asks conversationally, as if you aren’t having a sexual crisis about it three feet away. “Looks good, boss.” Aaron runs his hand down his body self-consciously, but all you see are thick fingers and stomach and hnnngg…

JJ pinches the back of your arm hard, makes a face that screams get it together!!, and you take a deep breath.

“I took some of my old ones in for alterations and the salesman convinced me they were severely outdated. Do you like this style better?”

For some reason, it feels like he’s looking right at you, and you nod, dreamy-eyed, sweep your tongue over your lips.

“Better,” you rasp, and Emily and Penelope agree, probably to take the emphasis off of your slack mouth and dopey one-word answers. You try to help JJ clean up, picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the dustpan despite her protests—because you are very unfocused, shouldn’t be messing with sharp objects—and when you cut your finger on a piece, she just sighs. Such a mom.

You wince, and Aaron frowns, comes toward you, putting you not only at dick height, but a manageable dick distance, if you were so inclined; really, it’s more if he were so inclined, because you are actually fully prepared to swallow his load right here in front of your friends—all he’d have to do would be snap his fingers and point to his crotch, and the FBI would be suing you for mental distress and using the money to pay for therapy for Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, snapping you out of your very elaborate fantasy (typically your fantasies don’t involve court costs, but this is Aaron, so anything is possible.) He wraps his hand around your injured finger and pulls you up to standing with the other, and you just follow along as he leads you over to the sink, turns on the tap to let the water run over your cut. The way you’re looking up at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen has to be painfully obvious, but he just reaches over for the first aid kit, takes out a bandage, and wraps it carefully around the tip of your finger. You sigh.

It may have started out as lust, but you’re pretty sure you’re also in love.

You have got to find a way to get him to notice you as more than just an agent, a teammate, a friend, and so: Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ begins. You fill the girls in on your master plan, and they fill in Derek and Spencer just so there are more people to laugh at you when you crash and burn, probably. But you’ve got a plan, will be pulling out all the stops, so you might not fail horribly after all. Hopefully.

God, you absolutely cannot fail. You can’t go out with another software engineer with the personality of a peanut or another investment banker who thinks buying you an appetizer means you owe him a blow job in the front seat of his Tesla. You will go fucking insane.

Today’s plan is T for tits, because yours are pretty awesome and almost no one who is attracted to women can resist them. You wear your usual white button down top, but you leave the top two buttons undone, and you add a red, lacy bra for a little additional temptation.

“Here are those consults you asked for,” you say after knocking lightly on the doorframe; Aaron waves you inside. You set them down on his desk, then glance over the open folder in front of him, make a curious noise. “What are you working on up here?”

You walk around his desk, so you’re standing next to him, and lean forward to look over the case file with one hand on the back of his chair and the other pressed against the desk. If he would look over, he would see right down your top, your breasts high and smushed together thanks to the lacy push up… but he looks straight down at the file, taps his pen against it.

“Murders in Detroit. I don’t think we’ll go—they look like mob hits to me, so I’m going to refer the case to Organized Crime.” You hum, turn the file toward you and lean in a little closer, letting your hair spill over your shoulder, the neck of your blouse fall open. Boobs and perfume are usually a one-two punch that is capable of bringing any man to his knees, and while he does turn to look at you, it feels entirely too respectful for your liking. You sigh softly, give up for today, and turn the file back.

“Well you know best, boss. Any time I don’t have to go to Detroit is alright by me.” You flash him a smile, and he reciprocates, and you head back downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a stale shame pastry.

The team looks up at you when you approach, and you shake your head.

“No luck,” you mutter, and Derek laughs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“Maybe you’re not very good at flirting. What did you do?” You roll your eyes—your flirting is not the problem, it’s Aaron’s morals and manners or whatever—and walk over to Spencer’s desk, demonstrate with him what you did to Aaron; you put your hand on the back of his chair, toss your hair over your shoulder, lean in, and Spencer swallows hard, licks his lips, and looks abruptly down at his hands. That reaction, you would have gladly taken.

Derek clears his throat, and so does Emily. Hmm.

“I’m good at flirting,” you say, straightening up; Spencer is blushing, and it’s super cute, so you pat him lightly on the head. “Maybe he’s an ass man. I’ll wear a skirt tomorrow and we’ll see if that gets the job done.”

“Good idea,” Derek says, and when you walk past him, he gives you a once over that makes you feel pretty damn good. “In the meantime, why don’t you come and demonstrate on me?”

There’s no denying he is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life, and earlier on in your career you might have taken him up on it—it would have to be better than Marty McTesla, that’s a given—but you know he’s mostly teasing, even if there is a thin layer of actual desire beneath it all. You just fluff your hair and take your seat and mentally flip through your closet to try to come up with an outfit Aaron can’t refuse. You decide on a pencil skirt, because that’s got to be every boss's fantasy, right? You have one you never wear to the office because it’s a little sexy, tight on your hips and ass, with a zipper up the back that you can open a little and use to your advantage. When you walk into the bullpen that morning, JJ whistles, and you grin, do a little twirl.

“Thank you, thank you. This has to work, right?” You turn to face Emily, then turn away from Emily, butt right in her face. “Emily? This will work, right?”

“That’s... definitely going to work,” she murmurs, tapping the cap of her pen against her teeth, and you have to admit you have a good feeling about this one. For as great as breasts are, your ass is your best asset, and if the open top and red bra didn’t work, this has to be your ticket to some sweet, dirty loving, it just has to.

You all head up for the morning meeting, filing into the briefing room, and you give Aaron a soft greeting and a smile just like every day, and then offer to help him pass out whatever stack of papers he’s holding in his hands—fire drills and emergency protocol, or something boring like that. He accepts the help, and you take the fliers, but instead of walking around and handing them to each member of the team like he would, you bend over the table, reach across, and drop the pages in front of everyone.

JJ is the furthest away, and you practically have to climb onto the table to reach her; you grin and wink when she takes the papers out of your hand, and she shakes her head like you’re too much, but when you stand back up to hand Aaron the extras, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.

He thanks you for your help, and you take your seat and listen to him go on about emergency exits and fire extinguishers and seriously start to contemplate moving to Europe to start a new life, or something else equally dramatic.

Because you don’t give up easily, you orchestrate one more attempt to get him to show some interest in you. You know he usually goes downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, and that the elevator is a jam-packed nightmare because the main stairwell is currently under construction (which is probably why you needed to go over safety protocol, now that you think about it; shutting down the stairwell seems very unsafe.) You usually pack your lunch, but you can go buy an overpriced salad for the sake of your sex drive, so you wait for the elevator when he does, making small talk about your mornings until it dings and arrives on your floor.

He tries to let you in first, gentleman that he is, but that won’t work with your plan, so you insist, earning eye rolls from the other passengers on the elevator. You give Amy from Forensic Accounting a dirty look and then step in after him, lean back against him because there’s really no fucking room to even take a breath.

He’s taller than you, but with heels on your ass still fits pretty nicely against his thighs; a little too nicely, you think, as you get wet just from standing near him in the elevator, the heat of his body through your skirt. You really are a mess.

There are two more floors to go before the cafeteria, and no one gets off, but more people manage to cram into the elevator, which means you press more tightly against him to make room. Someone bumps into you roughly, which makes you unsteady on your feet; Aaron puts his hands low on your hips to keep you from wobbling, and your eyes literally roll back in your head, but he just leans in to mutter, “sorry” into your ear. You say nothing, because you’d probably moan if you opened your mouth, but you shake your head so he knows it’s not a problem.

When everyone gets off downstairs, you hurry to the restroom and don’t look back, turn on the faucet and splash some cold water against your overheated neck and chest. So much for that plan. All you managed to do was work yourself up into a fury.

While you’re in line to pay for your overpriced salad, you open up your dating app and secure yourself drinks with a hot lawyer for tonight. Seduction is clearly not working with Aaron, he’s clearly not interested, and you have to find a way to move on before you have a spontaneous workplace orgasm and get fired from the job you love—all of his tight new suits have been dark so far, but if he shows up in gray, you’re not going to have the will to survive anymore. You have to plan for the worst.

The lawyer is nice enough, but he’s too short, too thin; it’s hard to imagine Aaron’s body weight on top of you when he’s fucking you, but you’re nothing if not resourceful, so you move your hands to his head of thick, dark hair and focus on that—that, and his hot breath against your throat when he comes a little too soon and mutters “sorry” into your ear.

“It’s okay,” you pant, reaching between you to rub your clit. You close your eyes, tip your head back, clench around him; you imagine it’s Aaron inside you instead, and bury your face in his shoulder when you come.

He’s willing to stay, but you explain why it’s better if he leaves, and then you fall back into bed, fumble for your vibrator, and get off again so you’re not too distracted by reality to really enjoy your fantasy.

It’s a little twisted, but it is what it is. You’re standing in the breakroom a few days later, swiping through the dating app and bullshitting with Derek and Penelope, when this guy pops up on your screen. He’s not your usual type, younger and blonder than you prefer these days, a pilot, but something about his profile makes you pause; when it hits you, you blow out a breath and look up at your friends.

“So you guys know Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ is officially dead in the water,” you begin, and they nod, “and now I’m focusing my energy on trying to get over him. I went on a date with a guy that kind of looked like him, and that didn’t really help, but what if…” You turn your screen to face them; Derek nods like it might be crazy enough to work, but Penelope grimaces.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to work. It might actually be crossing a line,” she says with a frown, and you look to Derek for his input.

“It’s more of a coincidence than anything, right? It’s not like he’s unattractive and this is the only reason you’re going out with him. He’s a good looking guy,” he admits, and you’re really grateful he’s willing to help you rationalize this probably terrible idea into a potentially decent idea.

You send the pilot a message, and he wants to meet up; he suggests a bar near the both of you, and you know it’s risky, but you tell him you happen to make a great gin and tonic and that you have everything you need at home, if he’d like to meet you there instead.

He does, and you don’t even make him that drink, just take off his clothes, get him into your bed.

“That’s right, babe—wanna hear you lose it for me. Say my name, gorgeous,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you from behind, and you close your eyes, fist your hands in the sheets, and give him what he wants.

“Oh, fuck, Aaron. Fuck me harder.” His thrusts are already rough and punishing, but this is the best you’ve felt in a really long time, so you’re eager, desperate for more. “Yeah, Aaron, just like that.”

“Tell me my big cock feels so good in your pussy.” He slaps your ass, and you moan involuntarily, press back against him, panting.

“Your big cock feels so good, Aaron, so good in my pussy. Fuck me, Aaron, destroy me.” He grunts, tenses, and moves his hands to your shoulders, slamming your body tight against his as he comes. “Yes, don’t stop, Aaron, don’t stop,” you plead, hips working together, and when he smacks your ass again you come gasping his name, collapsing against the bed with a breathless sigh.

You feel a lot dirtier than you expected you would, even though it was kind of awesome, and ultimately Penelope was right; it was fun while it lasted, but it didn’t do a damn thing to help you forget about the only Aaron you actually want in your bed. Monday morning, Aaron comes into the office wearing a tight navy suit with a striped white shirt and a navy tie, and you follow him with your eyes from the glass double doors all the way up to his office, mouth open a little. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing picks up, which is the dumbest biological reaction to a man’s ass you’ve ever had—but god, it’s a perfect ass—and JJ has to actually lightly slap your cheek to get you to snap the fuck out of it.

“Are you horny right now?” she asks, a little grossed out. “I can’t handle you.”

“I know you guys all call him a tightass, but I mean, if the pants fit… and god, do they fit.” You pick up a case file and fan yourself with it. “He’s so fucking hot. What am I supposed to do? Getting railed by fake Aaron didn’t do shit; I think I might actually have to transfer.”

“You’re not transferring. You just have to get over it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s like a cat in heat when he’s around,” Derek says with a smirk. “I think I’m getting horny just because she’s horny.”

“Okay, so why can’t I have that effect on him?” you ask with your arms open. “Do you think it’s the pheromones? Maybe they’re incompatible. Smell me—does it turn you on?” you ask Spencer, presenting your neck, and he looks like a deer in the headlights, then leans in to sniff you.

“Uh… you smell nice?” he says with a shrug and a half smile. “I think it’s just your perfume, though.”

“Put your face near her boobs,” Derek says, and Spencer starts to lean in again. “I think the pheromones are stronger there.” He pauses about halfway to your chest.

“Actually, they’re stronger near the genitals, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“What’s going on down there?” You freeze and then turn to look up at Aaron’s office, where he leans against the doorframe; Spencer stands up comically fast, and you take a step back, clearing your throat. Aaron’s scowling—it’s really sexy and it’s making your heart beat in your stupid, traitor pussy—and then he sighs visibly. “We have a case, come on.”

The case is only a half hour away, so you drive, which is horrible, because you are with Aaron and Derek, and Derek lets you sit in the front just to watch you squirm.

It gets bad before you even pull out of the parking garage, because Aaron puts his hand on the back of your headrest to look behind him and reverse the SUV, and you look over at his body—his stomach, his lap, his thighs—and then quickly face forward when he puts the car into drive. You’re flushed, breathing heavily, and when he looks you over quizzically, asks if you’re alright, you just clear your throat and nod.

“Allergies,” Derek supplies from the back, and you mentally thank him for the save, but you kind of also want to smack him for putting you in this position in the first place.

You’re practically turned on the entire ride, even as you go over the details of the case, because his legs are spread and your eyes keep moving to his crotch; at one point, you think you notice his already unfairly tight pants getting a little tighter, but it’s just a trick of light.

By the time you arrive at the precinct, you are more than ready for fresh air, to put some distance between yourself and Aaron. You’re out of the car almost as soon as he turns off the engine, which probably looks weird as hell, but for your sanity you can’t give it too much thought.

The head detective and a junior detective give you a run down on the case while the other half of your team meets with officers at the crime scene. The head detective, a tall, handsome man in his forties, is looking at you like you’re a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in months; Derek notices, turns to you with a raised eyebrow and mouths ‘pheromones,’ Aaron is clearly unhappy about the detective’s lack of professionalism, and you couldn’t really care less about the attention. You just want to do your job and go home and touch yourself to thoughts of your boss… as one does.

The local police already have a board made up, so the three of you travel to speak with some witnesses, head back to the precinct, work the tip lines. Aaron seems to be looking at you more than usual, and when you get up to stretch your legs, he’s right behind you, following you out into the hall.

“Are you sure you're alright today?” he asks with a serious expression, hands on his hips. Your mouth waters. “You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Stranger than normal?” You try to smile, to lighten the mood, but as oblivious as he’s been about everything else, he’s always been able to tell when you try to hide your emotions with humor.

“The last couple weeks? Yes.” He moves a little closer, and you try your best not to let it affect you—or at least not to let it show when it does. “You know by now that you can come to me anytime, for anything.” He doesn’t present it as a question, but it’s clear on his face that he’s looking for an answer.

“I know. I’m going through something… stupid,” you say with a shrug. “Something I should be able to handle, but it’s harder than I imagined.” He frowns, flicks his eyes over your face.

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t; trust me, you can’t,” you say, pleading with your voice, begging him to drop it. “I’ll get through it.” You shut your eyes briefly, exhale, and he reaches down to take one of your hands in his.

“Are you in trouble?” This is the most intimately he’s ever touched you, and it’s not just your body that sings; you know you’re in love with him, have been for a while, but focusing on the horny feelings is easier. It makes it feel like you have less to lose.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some time. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, and then Derek pokes his head into the hall behind him.

“We got a tip about the unsub barricading a house downtown; the detective is mobilizing SWAT,” he says; when he glances down at your hands, you pull yours softly out of Aaron’s grasp.

“What do you want us to do, boss?” you ask, effectively ending your conversation, and he tells you to get suited up with comms and Kevlar so the three of you can head to the new scene. Aaron is, unsurprisingly, a complete badass, storming the house along with SWAT, you at his side; it’s his way of reminding you that he trusts you, that it can and should go both ways—he is so perfectly predictable, reassuring with gestures over words even in a situation like this one. It does nothing to help you stop wanting him.

He’s a little rough with the unsub (and that doesn’t help either,) looks ruffled and kind of pissed when you climb in the SUV to head back to the precinct. Spencer, JJ, and Emily meet you there, and you take the opportunity to vent about how indescribably good Aaron has looked all day—Spencer bows out of the conversation early, but JJ and Emily are kind enough to listen to your insane, horny ramblings.

“He’s just so hot—he always has been, but the new suits? They’re so tight, and his shirts show off his tummy, and his pants show off his thighs… You guys will never understand the things I want to do to him.”

“Okay, he’s handsome enough, but you’re nasty about it—I can’t handle you,” JJ says, not for the first time. You groan in response.

“How can you say that? Have you fucking seen him? I’m not supposed to think nasty thoughts when he walks around looking like that?”

You feel yourself getting a little out of hand, and Emily and JJ look like they’re trying to shut you up, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like the floodgates have opened.

“He’s never going to know what I want to do to him… what I want him to do to me. I tried so hard, and he didn’t even look at me. All I wanted to do was get on my knees for him and grab his ass so he could fuck my throat as hard as fucking possible—is that so much to ask for?” You pause, but neither of them say anything, just look scandalized. “I guess I’m going to have to name my vibrator Hotch now, since that’s clearly the closest I’ll ever get to him giving me an orgasm.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You jump a fucking foot, spin around, almost knocking Emily and JJ over in the process; Aaron is in front of you, his brow furrowed, arms crossed over his vest (he hasn’t taken that thing off yet? You threw yours on the table like the minute you got back), and your mouth opens and your eyes close at the same time.

Oh fucking fuck.

“We’re gonna… go,” Emily says awkwardly, and you open your eyes abruptly when Aaron speaks again.

“No, we’re going to go; come with me,” he tells you, and he turns and heads down the hall; you look back at Emily and JJ, swallow hard, and follow him, your heart beating fast.

He steps into a small room with a copy machine, table, shelves of paper and envelopes and other supplies, and closes the door behind you, engages the lock. You are torn between being very worried he’s going to fire you and super turned on, because this is definitely a fantasy you’ve had before.

“Aaron,” you begin, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I think it was the adrenaline; it makes me run my mouth and I can’t stop it, you know that.” He’s facing away from you, his hands on his hips again, and you can see the way his body moves when he sighs.

“Did you mean it, though?” When he turns to look at you, he doesn’t look angry, he looks… nervous. “Do you want me?” His reaction is unexpected—not great, but not necessarily bad—and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah. So fucking bad. And I’m sorry—” That’s as far into your apology as you get before his mouth is on yours, his hands on your face, lips pressing against you for a rough, eager kiss. Your hands move to his waist, pulling him closer by the vest, and he lifts you up onto the table, tugs down the v-neck of your t-shirt, mouths at your throat.

“You think I didn’t look at you?” he says when he pulls away for a breath, tipping your chin down so you’ll look into his eyes. “You think I didn’t see that lacy red bra, your perfect ass bent over in the tight skirt? You think I didn’t feel it pressed against me in the elevator, that I didn’t want to push that skirt up and sink inside you and take you there in front of everyone?”

You moan, chest heaving, twist your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another kiss, dripping and trembling at his admission.

“I would have let you,” you murmur against his lips, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you would have, if that’s what he’d wanted. “I would let you do anything: not just let you, but I’d want it, beg for it. I meant what I said—I’d get on my knees for you, anytime, anywhere, do whatever you want me to do. I want to be yours.”

He catches your mouth in another rough kiss, then puts his hands on your waist, guides you off the table, and flips open his belt, the fly of his pants.

“Oh god. What are you doing?” you ask, and he slides down his zipper, pulls you with him until his back hits the door.

“I’m giving you what you asked for,” he rasps, staring into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. It’s so fucking hot your pussy clenches.

You lick your lips, drop to your knees on the tile floor so hard it hurts, tug his pants open and pull out his thick, hard, veiny cock.

Your dreams and fantasies did not do it justice.

“Fuck. Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him, and he wraps his hands in your hair, pulls tightly. You moan just from that and the heft of him in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” He scrapes his fingers over your scalp, hums as you start stroking him, licking the head. “Don’t thank me—I should be thanking you, beautiful, perfect girl. In what world do I get this?” There are lots of things you want to say to that, but you’ve waited long enough, will have to say them later.

You lick your lips, collect lots of saliva, and take him into your mouth, get your hands on his ass and dig your nails in. Aaron groans, tightens his fingers in your hair, and when you look up at him it feels like a fever dream, like it’s not real but a delicious figment of your imagination.

For a minute or two, you stroke him with a tight, wet mouth, and it’s got you aching between your legs, but he’s supposed to be fucking your throat, technically, if he’s giving you what you asked for. You pull off, tell him that, and he tugs your head back roughly, guides you back onto his cock and starts thrusting into your mouth, earning vibrating moans around it.

“God, you’re so perfect. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you touched yourself to the thought of me fucking your pretty face?” He picks up the pace, pushes deeper when he sees you can handle it, and you squeeze his ass, feel your eyelids flutter as he uses your mouth, pulls your hair. “Are you a whore for me?” he grinds out, and the moan that rips from your throat is inhuman, embarrassing, and absolutely accurate. “Yes you are, baby, yes you are. My pretty whore, on your knees, mouth stretched wide and filled with cock.”

You’ve never been so turned on from a blow job, but this is Aaron, hot and dirty and forceful, everything you imagined and more. You squeeze him tighter, encourage rougher treatment, and he presses his hands against the back for your head, slams his dick in so deep it aches; you don’t gag, but it’s a near thing, and when he pulls you off you gasp for breath and whimper at the loss at the same time.

“Enough of that, baby. You were perfect, so good for me, almost choking on my cock, but I bet your pussy is wet and aching. Do you want me inside it?”

“Holy—yes, fuck, please. Please,” you breathe, and he helps you to your feet and then pushes you against the door, gets your pants down. His rough treatment has you whining, gripping the hair on the back of his head, and you kick off your boots and socks so you can step out of your pants completely. “Keep all this on,” you tell him, pants and shirt and tie and Kevlar vest and all, and he nods, kisses you deeply, presses two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you receive him easily, soft and wet and open, and he uses his free hand to sweep down your top, slipping the buttons loose so he can get a better view of your tits and black lace bra that’s holding them. “So beautiful, and finally mine,” he mutters against your throat, and you whine, let your head fall back against the door, and give in to the pleasure of his thick fingers moving inside you.

“Finally mine,” you murmur, tugging his hair, slamming down against his hand, and when you come it’s like a miracle; you cry out, clamp down, and wrap your free hand around his bicep and squeeze until you’re lightheaded, dazed, desperate for another.

You kiss, deep and passionate and filthy, and Aaron slides his fingers into your mouth, pumps them a few times, then kisses you again.

“Good girl. Are you ready for my cock now?” You pant, gasp, and nod your head, and he pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lifts your legs so you’ll wrap them around his waist, and pushes inside you. You both moan, kiss, moan again, and then you wrap your arms around his broad back, hook your fingers in his vest, and hold on while he pounds your body roughly against the door.

“Oh, Aaron, fuck. Yeah. Want you to slam your body against mine; want to feel it, want to feel all of you.” He looks into your eyes, breathing hard, fucks up into you, hands on your ass, his hips and torso pinning you in place.

“Sweet, pretty, slutty girl,” he pants, spreading you open and shoving himself inside your pussy. “You tried tempting me, and oh, did it work. I might not have shown it…” He ducks in to kiss the base of your throat and you cling tighter, rock against his hips. “But it worked. You dressed like a whore just for me, just so I’d notice you; do you I know went home and stroked my cock and came with your name on my lips?”

“Holy shit. That’s so hot.” You move a hand to his hair again, can’t not thread your fingers there now that it’s allowed. “Could have fucked me like this then. Could have come in my pussy, not your hand.”

“We’ll make up for lost time,” he promises, and he thrusts up with his whole body, so you can feel it pressed against yours—shoulders, chest, stomach, all the very best parts of him. “I’m not too much for you? Can you take it?”

“Perfect for me,” you gasp, holding tightly to his vest at his shoulder and his shirt at his hip, bouncing into his thrusts. “So perfect, want you. I can take it. I can take it, Aaron.” Your mouths meet for a messy, hot kiss, lots of tongue, and you groan. “Give it to me, give it all to me.”

He bends his knees a little more, fucks you so rough and hard your mouth falls open and all you can do is whimper, clutch him, gracelessly kiss back when he presses his lips to yours.

He comes first, holds tightly to your hip and pumps inside you, fills you and then some, so it drips out while he’s still inside. It feels sinful, even after everything, and with a few rough drags of his palm over your lace covered nipple, you tighten and grip him and gasp out his name.

You both slow, and then he turns you, leans back against the door for a little relief after holding you up for so long. He nuzzles into your hair, and you bury your face in his neck, and you kiss soft and sweet until you’re feeling stable enough to hop out of his arms and put your clothes back on. He rights his as well, and when you’re both put together he wraps you up in a hug, kisses you, holds you with soft hands on your cheeks.

“I really have waited so long for this.” He brushes his lips over yours, and you sigh. “You never indicated… I was trying to be professional. Then out of nowhere you were leaning over my desk and bending over the table, and I was a little blown away.” You nod, can see that, pull him down for a kiss.

“It’s the goddamn suits,” you say with a half smile, and he gives you a curious look. “Your new, better fitting suits? They fit you so fucking well it’s almost illegal; I’m thinking of pursuing charges against your tailor for reckless endangerment on behalf of my libido, and the coffee carafe, and my poor, worn out vibrator.” He chuckles, hugs you closer, squeezes you so tightly against his body you almost pass out from all the good things you feel.

“Maybe we can strike a deal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back behind your ear, and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do to make it worth my while.” After a little more hugging and kissing, the two of you figure it’s time to emerge from the supply closet; you don’t see your team anywhere, which surprises you, but when you get to your phone and pull up your texts, it all makes sense.

Derek: Congrats on the sex. The four of us headed home because no one wants to ride with the two of you and your pheromones.

Emily: Yay, you did it!! Drinks on me next time we go out!

JJ: You guys are loud; don’t make a habit of that.

Penelope: I hear congrats are in order! And by hear, I don’t mean hear. There’s NOT an audio clip or anything, so don’t worry about that!!

Spencer: Emily took an audio clip. Is it normal for girls to enjoy being called a whore? You don’t have to answer that.

You take a very deep breath, give him the gist of the messages—you’re on your own, they heard at least part of it, there is some potentially damning evidence that needs to be destroyed—and you leave the precinct to head home in a better mood than you’ve been in in a very long time.

Aaron takes you out for a late dinner, and he spends the night at your place, falls asleep warm and solid and very naked in the middle of your bed.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #prompt

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darkmulti · 3 years

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I see your request is open for hc yay!

Can i request A!JKxO!Reader where jK has a huge dick and reader is a virgin and also his mate. So JK marries her and forcefully deflowered her and forcing orgasms out of her (bleeding/blood play while deflowering her is up to you). She found out JK’s obsessions of forcing orgasms out of hers until she passed out every night. JK also has a breeding and breastfeeding kink so he wanna knock her up just so he can breastfeed on her. He locked her up, all the time he spends with her is used to breed her while forcing as many orgasms out of her. Ok thats too long of an ask, sorry.. 🥺 thanks! 💜

-> I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH SHAUSHSHS

⚠️: NON CON, mention of blood, breeding kink, breast feeding kink, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia kink, angst, death, murder, slapping, somnophilia kink, rough sex

Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!Virgin!reader

-> sorry for any mistakes

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Your breed and Jungkook’s breed are not on good terms

The reason why is because your breed have better senses and are a lot stronger

Jungkook’s breed is the second strongest and let me tell you, they don’t like second place

Since they outdo your breed in numbers, they travel around in large packs and kill wolves your kind

If they eliminate all of you, they’ll be on top

Your parents raised you to stay away from them

They’re just trying to keep you safe because you’re their only child

They allowed you to explore the forest, but you couldn’t go too far

They still needed to be able to smell you out

You’re parents also told you howl if you felt like you were in danger

And you can only explore during the day time

Once it’s night, you must stay close to your parents so they can protect you

One day, you were sitting close to edge of a cliff

This was your favourite spot because it gave the perfect view of the sun setting

10 minutes later, you decided to go back to your pack only to be horrified by the scene

Your pack… everyone was dead

Blood everywhere

Bite marks all over their body

You walked into the crime scene more and saw your parents dead on the ground, next to each other

You immediately burst out into tears, not believing what you’re seeing

“Mom! Mom, please! Wake up!” You nudged her but it was too late

You sat down in between your parents and grieved the whole night

Why couldn’t they kill you too?

You were about to close your eyes but, caught an unfamiliar scent

Your natural instincts kicked in and you got up

You started looking around but that’s when something attacked you from behind

You fall to the ground and knock out after they give you one hard blow to the head

The next morning, you woke up in a bed

You frantically looked around, trying to put the pieces together, but that’s when he popped out of no where

His scent didn’t fail to reach you and once you inhaled it, you remembered all the traumatizing events of last night

Your heart rate increased and you immediately started to panic

“Where’s my mom?! Where am I?! Take me home!”

You started to freak out

“My mom told me to stay away from monsters like you! Leave me alone!”

You let out a piercing howl and made a run for it

However, Jungkook was faster and much, much stronger

He got a hold of your wrist and dragged you back to the room

He quickly pulled out his phone and shoved it in your face

You were squirming around at first but once you heard a familiar cry, you stopped

Jungkook was showing you live footage of wolves your breed, tied up god knows where and howling for help

Your heart crumbled into a million pieces

“W-why are you doing this to us?” You choked on your sobs while watching your breed beg for mercy

“Marry me, and I’ll let them go.”

You looked at him, appalled

“Marry? I won’t marry you. After you killed my family, you want to get married?!”

You pushed him away from you and slapped him

Jungkook poked his cheek with his tongue and quickly dialed a number

“Kill them all.”

You look up wide eyed and shouted “No!”

“You don’t wanna marry me so, now I have to kill them.”

“Wait! No! I’ll marry you! Please set them free!”

Jungkook smirked in victory and told his buddies to stop

“Wedding is tomorrow. Everything is planned, all you have to do is get all dolled up for me and say “I do.”

He left your room as you sat down on the edge of the bed, wiping your tears away

The next day was the worst day of your life

They woke you up early so, they could start getting you ready for the wedding

Once you said “I do” at the alter and signed the paper, Jungkook lips turned into a evil grin

After sealing your marriage with your first kiss, Jungkook drove you both back to your new house

Once you got inside you turned around and faced him

“I did what you asked. I got married to you and now, I’m your mate. You got what you wanted. Now show me live footage that you’re letting the wolves go.”

“You’re so cute, y’know? You really fell for it. The footage wasn’t live. Those wolves have been dead for a while. I could show you the footage of me killing them, if you’d like.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach

“What do you mean? It wasn’t real?!”

“You’re so naive, little one.”

You look at him, dumbfounded

“Why did you kill all of them? Why did you kill my pack? I just don’t understand. Why did you kill all of them just to marry me in the end?”

“Lower your voice, I don’t like being talked to in that way.”

“Go fuck yourself!” You yelled and turned around to leave

He pulled you back and carried you downstairs to the basement while you kept thrashing and yelling

“Let me go, you sick bastard! I don’t want to be near you. Your scent is disgusting!”

You made the worst mistake of your life that night

That was the first time you made him angry

He tried controlling himself but, after you insulted his scent, he wasn’t going to go easy on you

One hard slap after another shut you up pretty quickly

Now, you were terrified of him

Your cheeks were warm and stinging as hot tears glided down

All you could think was “why?”

Why was this happening to you?

Why was only your breed being targeted?

Why did he kill all those wolves?

It mentally tore you apart

You couldn’t wrap your head around anything going on

Before you could fight back, Jungkook got on top of you and pulled your dress down

“W-what’re you doing?!” You quickly grab your dress and struggled to keep it up

“No! No, please! I’m not ready! Please, I’m not ready! I hate you!”

You began to panic, so naturally you howled

“Please! I want my first to be someone I love! Please, don’t do this to me! I’ve never done anything bad in my life! You can kill me if you’d like!”

Crying and fighting wasn’t enough to stop Jungkook

He pushed his whole length in and started fucking you hard without letting you adjust

You frantically cover your breast and private part with your hands but he flipped you around and took you from behind

You felt disgusting and worthless

Your blood was streaming down your thigh and it covered his cock

Jungkook grabbed your ripped wedding dress and wiped up all the blood so, you’ll never forget this day

He threw it in front of you to make you feel even more bad about yourself

You looked away from the dress and focused on your breathing

The speed he was going at was unbearable therefore, it was quite hard to catch your breath

You started to cry for help, calling for anyone who was brave enough to save you

Jungkook’s size wasn’t easy to adjust to

It felt like you were being ripped apart

Especially because it was your first time

“P-please! S-slower! I can’t-”

Your voice cracked in between your sobs

You felt his cock grow inside of you and his tip began rubbing against your cervix

The pain was too much to handle so, you started to cry harder

“No! Too much! I can’t take it!” You wailed, trying to move away from him

He pulled you right back and went as deep as he possibly could

You came around him and thought it was over

Little did you know, it was just the beginning

Hours later, you were under him sobbing hysterically

You were filled with his cum to the point where it was leaking out of you

There was literally a puddle of cum in between your legs

You had bruises all over your arms and body because of his tight grip

And his strong scent made your head spin

You were a helpless, mess

Hickeys covered your neck, collarbone and jawline

Your lips were swollen from all the rough kisses

Your clit was burning from overstimulation

Your cheek was red and bruised

But, Jungkook didn’t plan on stopping

You felt like you were going to pass out when suddenly ripples of forced pleasure pushed through your body

You held your breath and tried fighting off the feeling but it was impossible

You started to cry more, not being able to handle the fierce orgasm

You sobbed uncontrollably, not know what was happening to your body

Before you could open your eyes again, you passed out

Jungkook hovered over you again and fucked you 10x harder after watching you spasm around him

He didn’t care that you were unconscious

You looked so hot in that moment, he couldn’t resist

This continued on for the rest of the year until he purposely impregnated you

If his offspring had a mix of his genes and a mix of your genes, it’d definitely be one of the strongest wolves to ever live

You were crying so hard, telling him to stop because you weren’t on anything

After you found out you were pregnant, he blamed it on you

“You have one fucking job and it was to take your pill.”

“I ran out of pills and I told you that night! I told you to stop. Jungkook, I tried my best to warn you but you didn’t listen-”

He pushed you back on the bed and forced another orgasm out of you, not caring about your pregnancy

You couldn’t fight him off so, you stayed still and hoped for the best

You didn’t want to stress out because it would be bad for your baby

Although you were pregnant, Jungkook demanded sex

Even when you were 8 months pregnant, he still fucked you as hard as he could

You were in so much pain but handled it for your child

The next month, you gave birth

You were obviously new to the mom life and it was quite difficult to adjust

Usually, women have to wait 4-6 weeks before engaging in sexual intercourse

The doctor explained it to both you and Jungkook, so it’s not like he doesn’t know

After you breast feed your newborn son, you tuck him into bed and go to your shared bedroom

You were still in a lot of pain and really wanted some rest

Jungkook was out hunting and when he came home, he was a bit intoxicated

You smelt the alcohol the moment he stepped in the house

He stumbled his way upstairs and slammed the door shut, scaring your newborn

Your son started to cry so you quickly got up to put him back to sleep but Jungkook didn’t allow you

“See what you’ve done? You wouldn’t have to deal with this shit if you had just taken your pill.”

You ignored him and went to your son’s room to put him back to sleep

Jungkook followed you to his room and pulled you out before you could pick up your son

“Did you listen to what I said? I’m fed up with this attitude of yours.”

“Let’s not fight in front of him. We’ll talk in the room.”

You escaped his grip and put your son back to sleep

When you enter your room, you see Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed with his belt in hand

Your heart dropped to your stomach

“N-not today. It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet.”

He scoffed, “do you really think I give a shit?”

He raised his voice a little and you gestured him to keep it down

“Don’t yell, he’s sleeping.”

“This is my house, I can talk however I’d like.”

There was no winning against him, especially if he’s intoxicated

You thought you could hold him off for the night until he’s sober again, but you were completely wrong

You were going to your side of the bed when he whipped his belt below your butt

He pulled you by the hair onto the bed and pulled down your night shorts

“I can’t, Jungkook! It hasn’t been 4 weeks! No!”

Jungkook always gets what he wants

His body weight kept you down as his cock plunged deep inside your cunt

You haven’t healed properly, so the pain was intolerable

You covered your mouth with your hand and sobbed

You still needed to be quiet but it hurts so bad

You pushed your face into your pillow and attempted to let out quiet whimpers

“It hurts! Please, slower!” You whispered

Jungkook purposely went faster and the skin slapping was so loud, you were afraid it’d wake up the baby

You were gasping for air, trying to get his body weight off of you so you could breathe normally

An hour after, you had another orgasm

You clutched onto the bedsheets and tried your hardest to remain silent

Jungkook came inside you again and collapsed on top of you, making you groan

He grabbed your right breast and began sucking as hard as he could until milk squirted onto his tongue

You tried squirming around to get him off, but the more resistant you are the more aggressive he gets

In the end, you passed out like always

You kept your distance from him and gave all your attention to your son

He hated that your attention wasn’t on him 24/7

So, he gave your son to his parents for a full month and kept you locked up in the basement

For that whole month, he fucke you senselessly

You were having orgasms every night; you couldn’t do it anymore

He’d bite down on your nipples and manhandle you all sorts of ways

You were exhausted but your son’s life was always on the line

Jungkook could easily hurt him

He doesn’t really care about your son

(I mean, he does but he acts like he doesn’t so he can use it against you.)

Jungkook only looks at your son as your weakness

He’ll make you have three orgasms in a row and if you tell him to stop or slow down, he mentions your son and it immediately shuts you up

He loved having so much power over you

He could literally fuck you for the rest of your life

You didn’t understand why this was happening to you, but there was nothing that you could do about it

There’s no one that could help you and even if there was, Jungkook will always one step ahead

No one dares to mess with him

I know this has lots of mistakes. I’m so sorry😭

#non con #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut

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babblydrabbly · 3 years

Text

Trust Me Pt. 1 - (Rick Flag x Reader); (Harley Quinn x Reader (Friendship))

Pairing(s): (Rick Flag x Reader); (Harley Quinn x Reader (Friendship)

Characters: Harley Quinn, Rick Flag, Digger Harkness, mentions of Amanda Waller

Rating: General

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warning(s): Language, blood/violence, car accident.

Summary: Imagine you’re occasionally sent on Task Force X missions to back up Flag, but he knows Waller really just sends you to report back any dirt you can find on Rick. You’re a rat (No offense to Sebastian). He keeps you at arms length most of the time, and resents any attempts to be a part of the ‘team’, despite his big speech about treating each other like brothers and sisters. Still, you bond over all the literally suicidal missions, and really do watch each others’ back during the chaos. Rick Flag is torn between you being one of Waller’s spies and how much he cares about you. Part 1/?

---

You were uncomfortable with the assignment to begin with. You’d heard about what happened at Midway before you even transferred to Belle Reve, so when Waller said you’d be assigned to the next few Task Force X missions, you immediately knew why. Amanda Waller did not trust Rick Flag.

Without needing to say it, you were going to report back any and all chatter you considered insubordination between the members of the ‘suicide squad’. You were a rat. And Flag knew it right away. You were adequate in the field, but nothing spectacular; Your real job was working in the comms room during their missions. When the plane touched down on your first tag-a-long, Flag did little to hide the resentment he felt for you.

That was fine. You didn't need to be friends. He kept you at arms length, only speaking to you directly with orders or updates. You rarely spoke at all while out with the team.

That was, until Harley Quinn was reinstated a few missions into your assignment. During the take down of a moving convoy and extraction of an important meta-human asset, Flag looked happy to tell you you’d be driving a hundred miles out into the desert beside the bubbly criminal. He didn’t even give you the dignity of being in charge of driving.

You sat in the passenger seat of the hummer, as Harley blasted the radio and sang without any shame at all. You had a feeling Flag could see your silhouettes from his own vehicle one car back where he was driving with Harkness. You had literal hours to go before your four vehicle team (plus helicopter) even reached the convoy, and Harley’s energy was relentless.

“So, where ya from, hun?” “You got a cute outfit- I’m more prone to a pop of color myself.” “Hey, you ever try peanut butter on a cheeseburger? Hear me out-”

“—Teams report.” Flag’s voice came in through your earpiece after an hour or so. Were you imagining it, or did he seem amused? The members ahead of you check in before you grit your teeth and give a curt, “Fine. Over.”

You gasped as Harley let go of the wheel to stick her body out of the open window, her blonde pigtails whipping around. She waved enthusiastically back at Flag, and you could see in the rearview as he casually waved back from his sunroof behind you. You cursed and snatched the wheel as the hummer swerved, shouting for Harley to get her ass back in the damn car!

You heard a few chuckles and quips over the comms that made your cheeks burn, and you made a note to definitely mark this moment down in your stupid report. Fucking Flag. It wasn’t like you volunteered to be Waller’s little snitch. But you couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face. He was getting bolder. It had been less than a year, and what was once just cold shoulders and dismissals between the two of you was slowly turning into harmless jabs like this one. You even found yourself leaving things out of your reports on occasion. What use was mentioning it if it wasn’t relevant to the task force? Lying by omission for a bunch of murderers and losers— Who were you turning into.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sudden absence of noise— Harley had stopped singing along, instead choosing to bob in her seat to the beat. She glanced at you with a wide grin. Then again. And again.

“Eyes on the road, Quinn.” You practically begged at this point. You pressed your body into your seat anxiously. The dust cloud from the incoming convoy was beginning to blow past your window. Flag’s voice crackled through the comms again to get ready.

“You’re one uptight broad, y’know that?” She said cheerfully. You didn’t know if you were meant to take offense or not. Then, “I like it! Got a real Restin’ Bitch Face.”

“Thank...you?”

“Don’t get me wrong— When a gal’s got on a good RBF, it’s in the name. You’re a bitch. But when a broody guy like Flag’s got one he’s a ‘serious leader’ and a ‘professional’ and a ‘dreamy hunk’.” Harley went on, taking her hands off the wheel to demonstrate her air quotes literally. You gripped your seatbelt in fear as the hummer began swerving again.

“Quinn...”

“Everyone’s always calling me a psycho bitch when I get in the zone, y’know. But then I’m just a crazy bitch when I’m tryin’a keep it fun—!”

“HARLEY!”

Your heart leapt in your throat. As Harley let the vehicle veer back and forth, your attention was suddenly taken by the flash of fire and an explosion just yards ahead of you. The hummer with two other squad members leading the line had been hit with a rocket launcher, sending their vehicle into the air in a burst of flame— and because Harley was driving like a maniac, the explosion had missed your own hummer. Harley and Flag broke the line in a single moment, dodging the car that was now overturned and engulfed in fire.

Hell broke loose then, as it always did.

You remember Harley shouting at you to take the wheel before climbing up to the mounted gun on the roof. Chatter erupted on the comms as Waller’s team directed the helicopter above and the rest of you still converged on the target. The plan was to never stop, to keep driving and extract the asset while all teams kept up with the convoy. You remember seeing a car pull up beside Flag in your side mirror, a rifle pointing right at him through all the dust and cross fire.

But the beauty of Task Force X was how laughably terrible these guys were at not following the plan. You catch a flash of red and blue as Harley leapt onto the enemy’s truck, abandoning her post on the hummer to go get the asset herself. Waller’s orders were meaningless in moments like this, and she knew it. They would either accomplish the mission their way, or they were dead.

That’s what the suicide squad did— was that really you? You looked in your rearview again in time to catch Harkness collapse onto the hood of Flag’s vehicle, a splotch of red visible on his chest even from where you were. You heard Waller’s voice in your head already dismissing Boomer’s loss by the end of all this.

But you also heard Rick, his voice concerned but steady in your ear as he ordered Harkness to hang on while he attempted to lose the car still beside them.

You sucked in a breath, and with a sudden jerk of the wheel, you lined yourself up with the enemy car behind you— And slammed on the breaks.

---

You had to come back to Belle Reve on a separate jet with Harkness, who also needed medical care before being sent back. Harley, despite her protests to see that you were both okay, was returned to her cell without so much as a ‘good job’ from Waller. Flag locked the caged door behind her with a murmur that he’d send word about Boomer soon.

You landed in Louisiana with a fractured arm and ten stitches along your right temple. They had to reset your shoulder too. The bruising on the right side of your face made you look worse than you felt, but you still had to keep your face still from pulling the stitches. As you shuffled down the exit stairs, dragging your duffle behind you, you were startled when you looked up to see Rick Flag on the tarmac approaching you quickly.

His brow furrowed, he immediately greeted you with a gruff, “Hey.”

“Hey—” You said back, feeling your bag being taken from you. He peels it from your fingers, your wrists brushing. No ‘[L/N]’, no curt nod. You watched as Flag slung the duffle over his broad shoulder and gestured back to the SUV he’d driven over to receive you from the Belle Reve air field without a word. When you approach your door, you stare as Flag uncharacteristically holds it open for you, then promptly shuts it, your bag placed down in the back seat.

The drive back to the main compound was usually brief, but today it felt like an eternity. You glanced over as Flag glared at the road ahead, and you remembered what Harley said about his... What did she call it? RBF? Dreamy bitch face?

Silence.

“Am I fired?” You finally said, your voice piercing the dead quiet of the car.

Flag blinked, looking between you and the road as if pulled from his own thoughts. “No, what?”

“Am I fired?” You repeated. Then grumbled, “Feels like you’re rushing me to an exit interview.”

“You're not fired.” He replied in his drawl, still distracted. “And I’m tryin’a hustle you to your debrief with Waller so you can get home and rest.”

He put the car in park, the silence falling over you again deafening now that the engine was off. You sneak another glance over at him to see him staring ahead, his large hands still gripping the wheel tightly.

“Are... You okay, Flag?”

“Are you okay?” He suddenly snapped. He released the wheel, turning his chest to face you in his seat. You reeled a little, confused at the sudden anger that seemed to release like a burst dam.

“Stitches, a broken arm. You got lucky, [L/N]. What the hell were you thinking?” He continued, voice raising. And it was like muscle memory, the way your uncertainty vanished, your body turning in your own seat to square up to Rick Flag, Colonel pain in the ass. He was chastising you now? After you just saved his fucking life?

You said as much, your face shutting down, on the defense. Typical Rick Flag. The thought was written on your face, your contempt like a flashing billboard.

Flag’s lips parted, a sharp intake of breath telling you he was about to fire back— because that’s what the two of you did— but instead he surprised you by promptly clamping the sharp line of his jaw shut. That silence fell like a wall between the two of you once more, and Rick turned to face forward, his gaze leaving you and taking all the fire with it. You watch his Adam’s apple bob minutely, something unreadable washing over his features before he mutters,

“Waller’s waiting for you in comms. Better hustle.”

#rick flag x reader #rick flag #harley quinn #tss 2021 #mywords*#reader is a genius. very smort.

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Deep End - Six

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 4.6K

A/n: Okie dokie! I’ve got an epilogue planned but I like this. The epilogue will explain shit better but I've known that this would be the end since pretty much the beginning LMAO

Deep End Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

When Steve hears you stop struggling, stop fighting and stop crying, he’s nervous.

It’s been a while since he locked you up there, and he really should check on you soon, if only to make sure the baby’s okay after that stunt you pulled.

He pushes the door to the bedroom open, eyeing your figure carefully.

You look like you’re asleep. If he wasn't so attuned to your body, your heart and your breathing, he wouldn’t have noticed something’s wrong.

Your heart is beating rapidly, far faster than normal. And it’s weaker than usual.

Your breathing is shallow and strained, and your face is lacking its usual healthy glow.

He rushes to your side, tearing the rope from your wrists and touching your face carefully.

Your skin is hot to the touch, and he feels fear settle in his gut.

He doesn’t know what to do, how to help. He’s never really had to help you like this, the doctor’s always been nearby.

He grabs his phone, calling the doctor and pacing nervously.

“Sh-she’s burning up and her breathing is shallow.”

Steve's stomach drops as he listens to the doctor’s instructions, answers his questions and comes to the realization of why you’re like this.

He rolls you onto your left side, tears welling up in his eyes at how unresponsive you are.

The doctor hangs up after telling the super soldier that he’ll be there soon.

His heart is in his throat as he tries to undo the damage of his punishment, putting the evidence back in the box and kicking the rope under the bed.

You’re still unresponsive, heart weak, but your breath sounds a little less strained.

Monster. That’s what you called him. What Natasha called him and what Bucky’s asset called him.

Maybe you’re right.

But he wants you. He needs you. Giving you up would be giving up a piece of his soul and he’s not ready to do that yet.

~*~

The doctor informs him that both you and the baby are okay, but being on your back for so long was compressing a major vein supplying your baby with oxygenated blood. If he’d gotten there any later it might’ve been too late.

With strict instructions to keep you on your left side and make sure you stay hydrated, the doctor takes his leave.

He stays by your side, holding your hand tightly in both of his as he really comes to terms with the fact that it was entirely his fault. He almost killed you and your baby to prove a stupid point. To discourage you from doing the very same thing.

His heart is heavy in his chest as he listens to your heartbeat get stronger, to the baby’s heartbeat continue fluttering like a hummingbird’s.

Those two sounds bring him peace, if only temporarily.

Shattering his peace is the sound of the front door opening, followed by tiny little footsteps clomping up the stairs.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Sarah.

Steve shoves himself to his feet and quickly leaves the room just as his daughter tries to enter.

“Sarah, mommy’s sleeping.” She frowns up at him and shakes her little blonde head.

“I need to talk to mommy!”

She walks around his legs only for him to scoop her up in his arms.

“She’s sleeping right now, honey.”

Sarah shakes her head angrily, beating her tiny fists against his shoulders.

“Let me go! I want mommy! Mommy!! Put me down!” She starts shrieking. Full-on screaming bloody murder right in his ear, and he loses his grip on the wriggling child.

She slides out of his arms and runs into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed and shaking your shoulder.

“Mommy?” She’s got little tears on her face, and they don’t cease when you don’t wake up.

“Why won’t mommy wake up?!” She looks up at Steve with terror written on her face and it shatters his heart in his chest.

“Sarah, mommy’s sick, okay? I had the doctor come over and he said that she needs to rest and when she wakes up we’re gonna need to make sure she’s got plenty of water, okay?”

Sarah’s big blue eyes are filled with tears and she shakes her head.

“I want mommy!”

She clings to your torso, crying against your shoulder in fear.

“Sarah, honey, mommy’s gonna be okay. You just gotta give her some space, okay? How about I set up a movie for you?” Sarah sniffles and slowly pulls away from you, looking at her father and shaking her head again.

“I want mommy! I hate you!”

Steve then realizes just how crucial you are. How important you are, not only to him but to his daughter as well.

Losing you would hurt so many people.

“Honey, you gotta give mommy and I some space, okay?”

He picks up the five-year-old, despite her quite literally kicking and screaming, and sets her down outside the bedroom.

He shuts the door quickly and locks it even faster.

Sarah stands outside, wailing her head off and pounding on the door with her tiny little fists.

She cries for you, over and over again, and it breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s brought back to what you said about him. About how this isn’t love.

He sits down at your side again, trying desperately to drown out the sound of his daughter crying outside as his thoughts overwhelm him.

He hasn’t been the nicest to you, that he’ll openly admit, and he makes mistakes probably more often than he doesn’t. But he loves you. He needs you.

Tears well up in his eyes and he lets out a shuddering breath.

He’ll make this right. He has to. Sarah deserves a mother, so does your unborn baby. And -though he may not deserve you- he needs you. The monster will be hard to fight, but losing you will be harder.

The damage he’s done might be irreversible, but he’s gonna do what he can to make things right, to give you a better life.

You don’t wake up for a few hours, but when you do you’re confused.

Your back aches and you feel a little dizzy as you remember what happened, how you got here.

Steve watches as you regain consciousness, confusion pulling your brows together before you slowly open your eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.

You look up at him then drop your gaze to your belly, bringing your free hand down to rub it gently.

“Am I... are we okay?” He nods gently, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I was... I don’t know, trying to teach you a lesson. And all that did was hurt you. Hurt the baby. I wanted to show you that trying to hurt yourself and hurt the baby wouldn’t fly, but I ended up doing far more damage.”

You swallow hard and struggle to push yourself into a seated position, wincing at the throb in your head.

“The doctor said that you shouldn’t move too much, and try to stay on your left side when you sleep. I-I didn't know that sleeping on your back was bad.”

You take a deep breath and look up at him, waiting for the anger to take hold in his eyes but it never does.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. For scaring you and not trusting you. I... I lost you for so many years and now I have you back and... I don’t wanna lose you again. But everything I do to try and keep you close, make you mine... all it does is push you further away and I’m sorry.”

His apology takes you by surprise, and you eye him skeptically.

How are you supposed to know if he’s telling the truth?

He drags one of his hands down his face and for a moment you can truly see just how old Steve Rogers is.

The exhaustion of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders finally shows in the lines near his eyes, the bags beneath them. But what really displays his age is his eyes. They’re so full of trauma and pain and weariness.

For the first time since waking up from the ice, Steve Rogers looks his age.

“I-I’m sorry, too,” you whisper, surprising him.

“I didn’t... I wasn’t thinking. I just... I wanted to punish you for what happened to Natasha. What you did. I wanted you to hurt but I just ended up hurting myself in the process.” You look down at your hands, trying to figure out how you want to phrase what you have to say.

“People argue, Steve. But what you do... it’s beyond that. We’re not... there are so many things wrong with what’s happening between us, what’s happened already, but I can’t leave. Sarah’s too attached and all I want for my little girl is to have a happy life. To have the happiness that was torn from me.”

Guilt settles on his chest, but he lets you continue speaking.

“I want my daughter to have a good life. I don’t want her to be afraid of-of people. The way I am. She loves you, and I know... I think you love her. You haven’t hurt her yet, and I hope it stays that way because at the rate we’re going, I'm not sure how much longer I’ll be able to do this.”

The pure fatigue on your face is more than enough explanation, but the idea of losing you is too much for him to bear.

“No, don’t say that. I’m gonna get better, okay? We-we were happy once. And we can do it again. I’ll be gentle and patient. I just... I need you, (Y/n). I need you a lot and the fact that you have such a tight hold over my every thought makes me angry. But I’m not gonna take it out on you anymore, okay?”

You let out a deep breath and eye him carefully.

“You’ve said that before.”

He thinks back to the time you spent in that cabin in the woods, where you turned his friends against him.

He has said that before, and look at where he is now.

“This time it’ll be different.”

You don’t have the energy to fight him. So if he’s gonna try, fine.

“Where’s Sarah?” You ask, hoping she’s still safely out with Morgan.

Steve’s face falls again and he stands up and opens the door to your bedroom.

Sarah sits crumpled in a ball, her cheeks covered in tears.

“Mommy!” She all but screams the word, launching to her feet.

Steve tries to take her hand but she yanks it away from him, shooting him a glare then running to the bed and climbing up beside you.

Your heart breaks when you see how sad she looks, and you hug her to your chest.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay.” She sniffles and climbs onto your lap, climbing to you like her life depends on it.

You wonder what happened while you were unconscious, what Steve did to upset her so much, and your mind immediately goes to the worst.

You look at the man, your thoughts written plainly across your face, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No. I just told her she couldn’t come in. Not ‘till you woke up. She uh... she stayed right outside the door.”

You soothe your daughter, rocking her as much as you can manage with the pain rolling down your spine.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You hold her close to you, trying to calm her down while Steve looks on helplessly.

Although his daughter loves him, loves being here with him, nothing can compare to the bond that the two of you have.

The monster in him hates it. Hates that he’s not as close to his own daughter, blames you for it. But he pushes that part of himself down.

He made a promise. And this time he’s not gonna break it.

"Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He asks for the thousandth time.

You only shrug, fixing your hair in the mirror as the doorbell rings.

“It’s a little too late now, Steve. Besides, I don’t really care. Sarah’s gonna have fun and that’s all that matters.”

Your daughter took a few days to warm up to Steve again, but now that she has he’s not gonna risk anything changing that.

He takes one last look at you, at how pretty you look in your blue sundress, then leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“I love you, (Y/n). I can send them away.”

You take a deep breath and shake your head.

“Sarah’s excited. Besides, I wanna know what we’re having.”

You plaster on a forced smile and it breaks his heart, but he turns and heads downstairs to greet the guests.

Ever since you got hurt, he’s been nicer. Far gentler than he's ever been with you, and you’re not complaining.

Steve has the potential to be a good person, that much is obvious, but he chooses not to.

He hasn’t hurt you again, or even yelled at you. No, he’s been patient and understanding and it’s such a sharp contrast from who he was before.

You can hear him greeting the guests warmly, chatting on and on about this and that and whatever else.

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you leave the faux safety of the bedroom and head down the stairs, smiling at your guests.

People that you’ve never seen before are in your house. Well, that’s not true. You’ve seen them on TV.

The Avengers are in your living room and kitchen, talking softly amongst themselves.

In the presence of these superheroes, you feel small. Weak. And you can’t fight the urge to find Steve as anxiety crawls up your spine.

He’s in the kitchen, talking animatedly with Tony Stark and Sam Wilson. Iron Man and Falcon.

He looks so at ease, his face split open with a laidback grin.

Sam’s eyes find yours and he says something to Steve, making the blond turn to you with a soft smile.

He waves you over and you obey, one hand resting delicately on your bump.

“Sam, Tony, this is my (Y/n). (Y/n), Sam and Tony.” You nod politely at them, sliding your clammy hand into Steve's nervously.

You haven’t been around this many people in a very long time.

“It’s nice to finally meet the woman who’s got Captain America so hooked! All he does is talk about you,” Sam says, a grin on his face.

You smile at him, looking up at Steve.

He nods encouragingly, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles to try and ease your anxiety.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I, uh, I’ve heard a lot about you. About both of you.” Tony smiles looking down as someone tugs on his pant leg.

“Can I have a sleepover at Sarah’s house?!” Morgan asks excitedly, her little face full of glee.

“You’re gonna need to go ask your mother. You know she makes all the decisions.”

Tony’s gaze lifts to yours when his daughter runs to find her mom.

“Is it alright if she sleeps over tonight?”

Steve nods then looks at you.

“You alright with that?”

You’re not sure if it’s a real choice or a test, but you don’t want to find out.

“Of course. She’s always welcome here.”

Tony nods with a smile, then resumes whatever conversation they were having before you showed up.

You tune out what they’re saying, carefully rubbing over your stomach and poking at your baby whenever they decide to kick you.

“(Y/n)? Did you wanna help me set the food up outside?” Pepper’s voice breaks you from your trance, her hand coming to rest softly on your shoulder.

You look up at Steve, silently asking for permission, but he just leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips and lets go of your hand.

You follow Pepper, setting up the table in the backyard silently for a while before she clears her throat.

“How are you feeling, (Y/n)? Sarah told us you were sick.”

You swallow hard and give her a tight smile.

“I’m feeling better. Tired all the time but this little devil is to blame for that.” You poke your belly only to be met with another kick.

Pepper nods, smiling at you.

“Are you excited?”

That question throws you for a loop.

Are you? Are you excited to have another baby?

You’re excited for Sarah to have a sibling. Excited to get to hold your baby and love your baby. But the reason why you’re having the baby in the first place? The father of your baby? No.

“Yeah, I am. A little nervous, too.”

She sits down by your garden, patting the seat next to her.

“You look tired, (Y/n). More tired than a mother should be. You’re wearing yourself thin.” You keep your lips sealed, not wanting to say anything that might make Steve mad.

She sighs and sets a gentle hand on your knee.

“I don’t know what your... relationship is with Steve, but I know you’re unhappy. He’s a good guy, deep down. But you need to take care of yourself, okay? Don’t work yourself to the breaking point because it’ll be even harder to build yourself back up. Especially with a brand new baby.”

You let out a shuddering breath and nod.

“It’s just hard. I’m trying but... it’s hard.”

As you talk softly with Pepper, Steve observes the two of you.

You look so sad, so defeated. He hates that he made you look like that.

“She’s unhappy, Steve.”

He turns to the voice, eyebrows raising.

“Wanda. I didn’t know if you’d make it.” He pulls her into a hug. “I heard about what happened in Westview... Wanda, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She sighs, pulling away with a sad smile.

“No. But I will be.” Her eyes travel back over to you for a moment, feeling the pain and the sorrow in your soul.

“Do you think she’ll ever be happy here? With me?” Wanda sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes, feeling your thoughts, your energy.

“It’s hard to tell. Right now she’s so... numb. Nothing but sadness and... hopelessness. Her spirit is crushed, Steve.” She reopens her eyes and turns to the blond.

“You can’t keep her here like this. It’s only a matter of time before she gets fed up and tries to do something drastic. Again.”

Steve knows. He fucking knows that. But he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do to lift your spirits.

He's given you more freedom, let you make more decisions for yourself. He’s been gentler with you, hasn't forced himself on you.

Not forcing himself on you isn’t something to gloat about, but given the history between the two of you, it’s something fairly major.

He just wants to keep you in his life. He needs to keep you in his life.

He turns to the young woman beside him, a thought bubbling into his mind.

“Could you... do something to make her happy? Make her enjoy her life here? Make her love me again?”

Wanda’s mouth curves down as she looks at you, watches you play with your daughter and Morgan.

“Steve, it’s not right.”

The blond lets out a pained breath, shaking his head desperately.

“I just want happiness, Wanda. Don’t I deserve it? Haven’t I suffered enough to deserve a happy ending?”

Wanda’s eyes glow red with sorrow as she’s reminded of her own happy ending that she had to give up.

She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, dropping her gaze for a moment before looking over at his desperate blue eyes.

“We don’t always get what we deserve. It’s hard and it hurts, but we can't control everything. And at some point, we need to let go. No matter how hard it is or how much it hurts. We can’t hurt other people because of what we think we deserve.”

They both look back over to you, your own eyes already on the pair, but dropping as soon as you see them turn to you.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do that.”

Tears stab at his eyes and he huffs out a breath through his nose, turning on his heel and walking away from the party, from his friends.

His abrupt departure catches the attention of a few people, yourself included. Before you can get up and see what’s going on, Bucky’s on his feet and heading into the house.

The woman Steve was talking to makes her way over to you, smiling gently.

“Hi (Y/n). I’m Wanda.” You smile at her, eyes darting towards where Steve disappeared from then back to her.

Bucky re-emerges only a few moments later, shaking his head at Natasha when she gives him a quizzical look.

You turn to Wanda with a strained smile.

“Could you just watch Sarah for a minute? And make sure she has something to eat? The foods ready.” She nods, watching with sad eyes as you walk back into the house to see what’s wrong with Steve.

“Steve?” You call softly, looking around for him only to find him sitting on the couch in the living room, his face in his hands.

“Why can’t I have what I want?” His question catches you off guard and you move to stand in front of him.

He shakes his head sadly, pulling his hands off of his face to grab yours, holding them tightly.

His lips brush over your knuckles gently, before he presses the back of your hands against his forehead, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“This isn’t right.”

Your heart races in your chest, stomach tying in knots as you try to figure out what he’s talking about.

“What are you talking about? Is everything okay? Did... did I do something wrong?” Maybe you shouldn’t have talked to Pepper earlier. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and smiled.

“I can’t keep you here.”

One sentence. Five words. Sixteen letters.

That’s all it takes to have your heart stuttering.

“What... what do you mean you can’t keep me here?” You try your hardest not to let your hopes get too high. Maybe he’s going to kill you. Maybe that’s what it is. It’s certainly something more up his alley than... the alternative.

He slowly raises his head, teary red eyes staring up into yours.

“You know what I mean.”

You shake your head, needing to hear him say it himself.

“What are you saying, Steve?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and closes his eyes, the words hurting him but he needs to say them.

“You're free to go. You and Sarah.”

The breath gets knocked from your lungs, eyes wide as tears start to blossom. This is a trap. A test. It has to be. There’s no way...

“You’re letting us go?” You ask softly.

He sighs again, nodding as tears find their way down his cheeks.

“Yeah... I guess I am.”

You’re silent, staring at him and waiting for him to tell you it’s a joke, to punish you. But he doesn’t. No, instead he lets go of one of your hands and stands up, his chest almost brushing yours.

“You said I don’t love you... but I do. I love you. Or maybe I love the idea of you, I don’t know. But either way... I hate how sad you are. How sad and afraid I make you. You're free to go wherever you want.”

You’re practically hyperventilating.

After all this time, you never truly thought he’d ever let you go. That he’d have even a shred of decency left inside him.

He cups your hands together and carefully places something inside them, then turns and walks to the front door, grabbing his keys and leaving the house.

You stand silently, staring at the object in your hands until standing becomes too hard and you think you may throw up.

Then you sit down, silent tears trekking down your cheeks.

“(Y/n)?” You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on the couch, staring at your hands, but Natasha’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“(Y/n), are you okay? Where’s Steve?”

You stare up at her then look back down at the tiny, life-changing object in your hands.

“He let us go,” you whisper, your glossy eyes raising to hers again.

She looks half as shocked as you feel.

“What?”

You sniffle then wipe the tears off of your cheeks.

“He’s letting us go,” you repeat, pushing yourself to your feet and holding your bump.

“Really?” You nod, eyes finding the backyard through the kitchen window.

Sarah and Morgan are playing outside with Sam and Wanda.

“What are you gonna do?”

Your heart is so full of confusion, full of pain and hurt.

“I’m gonna go cut the cake, then have a talk with Sarah.” She nods, a small smile on her face.

She heads back outside and you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down before you go out and face Steve’s friends.

You toy with the dainty thing he dropped in your hands before nodding to yourself.

This is what’s right. It’s the right choice for both of you.

You entertain his guests for a few more hours, not wanting to clue them into anything in case they disagree with your decision, with Steve’s.

Only after the presents are given and the cake is almost completely devoured do they finally start to leave.

Wanda helps you tidy up the backyard, writing her phone number down with a soft smile and a whispered ‘if you ever need a friend’.

Everyone bids you goodbye until only Bucky and Nat are left, the metal-armed soldier staring intently at your left hand before a smile spreads across his face.

He surprises you, pulling you into a gentle hug and nodding his head.

“Congratulations, (Y/n).” You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but for some reason, you don’t think it has anything to do with the baby shower.

They leave too, and then you’re virtually alone, Sarah and Morgan asleep upstairs.

After cleaning up every last inch of the house, you head upstairs to go to sleep.

Steve isn’t home until after midnight, long after he lets his tears run dry and his heart stop shattering. It just aches now. Hurts.

He let you go. He really did it.

Deep down he knew this would be the outcome. Either this or your death, but he never wanted to accept it. Refused to admit it to himself.

But seeing Wanda... after all that she’s been through... and she’s still standing strong.

He takes his shoes off and drops his keys on the kitchen counter, freezing in his tracks when he sees the covered plate of cake with his name written on it.

The batter is blue.

A boy.

He’s gonna have a son.

A son that he’ll never get to meet. He’s given you freedom, and he doubts you’ll let him be a part of your child’s life after all that he’s put you through.

He slowly makes his way upstairs, his heart hurting when he sees no sign of your things in the pristine house.

When he pushes open the bedroom door he freezes in his tracks.

There you are, sleeping in his bed. No bags are packed, nothing is out of place, and the dainty diamond ring sits on your finger.

You’ve made your choice, he realizes, his heart jumping for joy in his chest.

He sheds his clothes then climbs into bed with you, wrapping you up in his arms and sighing heavily.

Maybe Wanda was wrong.

Maybe he’ll get his happy ending after all.

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