#i was fighting bleeding and losing in my room when i saw this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

k-hotchoisan · 6 months

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hii it’s me again with another request (sorry)

Could you write smtg based off the song agora hills by doja cat? whatever member u prefer is fine 💕💕

anywayssss i love you smmm and u are an amazing person!! 💕💕🤭🧎‍♀️

omg that is such a cute song (if you squint hard enough past the public sex HAHAHAH)

Please never apologise for coming back for a request, you know I’ll always welcome you with open arms 🥰

Always thank you for being so sweet vic (if it’s okay to call you that~) and for giving me inspiration + pushing me write out of my boundaries. I genuinely appreciate it.

AND I LOVE YOU TOO 🗣️🩷😭

Where you and Seonghwa have a fight before his Grand Prix finals, but he still wins, and loses his fucking mind when he sees you still cheering for him despite that.

Genre/Warnings: racer au, smut, semi public sex, you fuck Seonghwa in his racer gear, IF YOU SQUINT HARD ENOUGH THERES LIKE ANGST (it isn’t heavy don’t worry), creampies, mild dacryphilla, unprotected sex, sweaty sex

You storm past your partner into the hotel room, trying to let the anger dissipate. Seonghwa is trying to get to you, explaining what you saw. You know that it couldn’t be helped, but feel the thorns prickling your heart when you couldn’t even approach him when you caught one of his overly zealous and nepotistic fans with her hands over him during the after party. Nothing much could done because;

a. He couldn’t do anything about it because the relationship between the both of you had to be kept a secret, his management did not like the thought of entertaining Seonghwa in a relationship when his career is at his peak;

b. The Grand Prix finale was tomorrow. A lot of stakes were in place, and Seonghwa knew better than to fuck it up, especially when he’s worked so hard to get where he is now. He’s so close.

He’s also so fucking close to just wanting to let the world know how possessive he is over you.

“You know it’s not like that right?” and he goes on and on. You know that it’s part of his job—to network, get more sponsors, even if it meant letting other women get a little too close to him. You understand, you do, but oh god, it gets so fucking exhausting. You just wanted time for yourself to clear your head and process the whole thing, and potentially stabbing that nepo baby at least sixty times in your head.

Your arms are crossed. Arguing with him is the last thing you want to do right now, especially when the both of you barely escaped getting caught sneaking into his hotel room. All that for a fight to erupt between the both of you after a long and tense day on the track. You glare at him with a pout.

“I’m going home.”

Seonghwa whips his head so fucking fast, his eyes piercing right into you. He looks absolutely dumbfounded.

“Are you serious?”

You nod. “I’m sorry that I overreacted, but now, I’m not risking us getting caught when tomorrow’s the finals.”

Seonghwa wants to fucking pounce and cage you in. Before he even attempts to deflect your words, you cut him off-

“-and especially when you’re not the one dating someone who needs to keep a relationship a secret.” You sigh. “Please get some rest, Hwa.”

You pull the hotel door open, and leave promptly. Seonghwa stands there, his brows furrowed as frustration bleeds into him. He wants to so badly chase after you, but he knows you wouldn’t let him, not when there could be a chance to risk getting caught by anyone from his team.

As the cab pulls away further from the hotel, your phone is spammed by Seonghwa, and he’s explaining himself. You purse your lips, reading over his texts, but you only decide to reply a curt reiteration of what you told him earlier at his hotel room, and a “love you”, before unlocking your door to finally wash up.

A ping of guilt courses through you—you know you shouldn’t misunderstand or be jealous, but if anything, it was but how it made you feel, and it wasn’t pretty. You didn’t mean to show a perturbed expression when his eyes glanced at you after he barely managed to shake his little fan girl off him, but it was just automatic. And if anything, Seonghwa is just as possessive as you are, if not worse, especially when he sent death glares to your direction when another male had approached you, and periodically touched you up on your arms, which kind of caused the argument to even start in the first place.

Your eyes flutter close, exhausted, as sleep drags you in deeper, the last thing in your mind being Seonghwa.

The morning sun leaks through the windows of Seonghwa’s room. He’s already up, albeit half awake, getting ready for another whole day of racing. His mind was set on going all out for the finals, but something still remains at the back of his mind, and he doesn’t want to push it away. He thinks to himself, he wants to do it for you.

You only send Seonghwa a short text of encouragement, and he doesn’t reply. Then again, he is wrapped up with interviews over interviews, training and the finale would only start when dusk sets. You don a body con dress, paired with one of Seonghwa’s racer jackets you stole, might as well surprise him a little bit.

On the cab to the event, Seonghwa’s gorgeous face is plastered all over the Grand Prix news, as one of the rising stars. He looks absolutely stunning, no doubt, and it gets your heart racing too because you cannot believe he’s yours.

You take a seat amongst the noisy crowd around you. The atmosphere was getting really riled up, especially when the racers all appear on the big screen as they walk back stage to their cars. Your eyes are glued to the screen as Seonghwa appears in his racing gear, and he winks at the camera, a slew of fangirl screams burst around you, and you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle. All the hard feelings the night before faded off, and you heart felt full yet anxious for Seonghwa.

It takes awhile for the warm up and safety check to be cleared, but before you knew it, the checkered flags are raised and lights turned green, cheers roar across the tracks as the loud screeches of the cars overpower them.

Throughout the laps, Seonghwa falls in between 3rd and 4th place, you bite your lip, praying that he’s able to catch up. As the laps close in to its final rounds, Seonghwa slowly climbs up the position to first, and he maintains, amazingly. The night continues to burn with anticipation as the final lap commences, with Seonghwa neck to neck with another racer, switching between first and second.

The final corner becomes the make or break—as Seonghwa drifts, effectively overtaking just slightly before fully taking the spot for first.

And he speeds into the finishing line, winning championship.

You jump from your seat, your fingers clasped from the tension as the announcer is proclaiming Seonghwa’s win, and the screen flashes his winning race in slow motion. Your heart is pounding in your ears as the screams are blocked out. You are so proud that nothing leaves your lips as you fight the tears from falling as you clap. The screen flickers to the car cam, and you see Seonghwa pumping his fist in victory as he rides through another victory lap.

The barricade has fans screaming Seonghwa’s name as he leaves the car and pulls his helmet off. He looks so fucking amazing even when he’s sweaty, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. You decide not to squeeze with the fans near the barricade, opting to stand further away.

Well, now where does this relationship go? He’ll probably be even further from you now.

A huge group of reporters swarm him, and he looks overwhelmed, that is until his eyes scan the crowd and lands on you, just when you’re ready to turn to leave.

Seonghwa’s heart skips a beat, his eyes are only tunnelling you as he pushes past the crowd, jumping past the barricade to where you are. You have a small smile on your face because you know he deserves all of this.

A tight grip on your hand halts you in your tracks, shocking you, as you turn around with wide and confused eyes. He pulls his goggles off. Before you could even process it, Seonghwa has his jacket that you’re wearing in his fist as his hands travel up cup your jaw—and he pulls you in for a deep kiss.

Your eyes shut as the kiss scatters fireworks beneath your eyelids, with Seonghwa’s lips right pressing against yours. Your mind is fuzzy, as your ears blocks out the loud screams of his fans. He pulls back after what feels like an eternity, before bowing politely at the group of fans and reporters in front of him as he leads you away.

From the circuit track to his hotel room, he never once let go of your hand, probably only gripping it tighter the closer he got to his room. He doesn’t say a damn thing either, probably because he still has the adrenaline pumping in his veins. Nonetheless, you still can’t tell what he’s thinking, and you’re wondering if he’s still upset.

At least not until the moment the door closes behind you.

Because he turns his heels right at you as devours your lips, not letting go at all, even as peels off his jacket, then yours.

He finally pulls back, giving you a breather. His eyes look absolutely wild as he tugs his jacket off you, exposing the way your dress hugs your curves, and his breathing becomes heavier.

“Fuckin hell. You don’t know how much it drives me insane when you’re wearing my jacket over something fuckin slutty like this. Fuck,” he groans, kicking his shoes off. You stare at him breathlessly as you remove your shoes as well, but your gaze never leaving how Seonghwa looks so fucking good with a compression shirt on—the way it hugs his biceps, the way it pulls taut against his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous bounce of his fucking tits every time he shifts his arms. He doesn’t remove his top before pulling you right back into his arms, his hands snaking up to grab your braless tits, which makes him groan again.

“Fuck, you’re not even wearing a bra. Are you fucking kidding me?” His erection presses hard against your thigh, and you’re working through your brain to find and answer amidst being trapped by pleasure. “And where did you think you were running to, looking like that?”

“N-nowhere! I thought you’d be caught up with the report-“ he cuts you off with another hungry kiss. God, he’s so desperate that you can’t help feel the heat pool between your legs. It doesn’t help that he had pulled your dress down past your chest, and his hands are all over your tits, sending sparks down your your spine, right to your pussy. Seonghwa pulls away once more, licking the string of spit that connected the both of you.

Seonghwa hums. “Mmm. Shouldn’t have asked. I’d still fuck you dumb anyway.” Your grip on his arm tightens. His fingers snake under your dress, tugging on your panties as he pulls the pair down, and pockets the pair of panties. The wet patch of slick doesn’t go unnoticed by him. His gaze locks onto yours as he makes sure you watch him cover his fingers with spit before his fingers head south. His fingers meet your slick that covered your cunt and scoffs.

“You’re already so fucking wet already”. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as his fingers begin rubbing your clit. You lean forward and sigh as you use his shoulder to lean your head on. He lets you for a moment, adoring the way you’re beginning to squirm underneath him. Then he’s grabbing your waist and then dumping you right on the couch, pushing your legs open for him. Your cunt glistens with slick right for him, and Seonghwa is more than ready to dive in, giving a lick before fully immersing his tongue right into your sex, flicking his tongue against your clit, his hands squeezing your thighs. Your fingers are tangled in his hair and your head is thrown back as you tug his slicked back hair. If you weren’t seeing stars, you’d be seeing the fucking heavens.

Seonghwa hits a pace where you’re beginning to see white spots beneath your eyelids and the knot tugs hard in your stomach. Your thighs contract immediately, but Seonghwa keeps them apart, because he knows that’s the sweet spot. He knows it makes you tingle and it gets him so fucking excited. His tongue works even quicker on your clit and your orgasm builds so fucking quick and your whines climb up in octave, music to Seonghwa’s ears.

“There, there. Oh fuck. I’m cumming. Oh my fucking god”, leaving your lips like a mantra, alongside more whines of his name as your orgasm tingles through your body in waves. His tongue presses against your clit and he sucks on your clit, causing you to jolt, tears already streaking from the overstimulation. Seonghwa’s moaning in your wet cunt, making sure he devours every part of your orgasm as his ego inflates. A broken cry leaves your lips as you release his locks, your hands slumping against the couch. Seonghwa presses a wet kiss against your cunt with a smile. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he towers over you, his erection staining his pants already. Oh god, you love the way your arousal is all over his plump lips nonetheless. He was made for eating you out. He leans in for another ravenous kiss—and he swears he can never get enough of it. Before you realise it, your dress is pulled back up past your tits.

His fingers gently intertwine with yours as he pulls you up, and leads you to-

“The balcony?” You question, your heart hammering in your chest. Seonghwa cracks a smile as he leans in.

“Yeah. I wanna show the world my girl. I’ll fuck you so good that I’ll make sure the world knows.”

“But-“

“It’ll be fine. I’m serious. We’re so high up and we’re clothed, well kind of ”, he comforts. You bite your lip, because fuck, it was definitely exhilarating to be fucked on the balcony. You wanted the world to know that he’s yours too and the thought of it only heats you up even more.

He leads you the beach chair at the side, where he makes you sit and hang your legs on either side of the arm rests, and he’s about to remove his compression top but your hands stop his before you realise it. He looks at you, concern flashes over his face for brief second.

“Fuck me with your racer gear on.”, you blurt out, curling your fingers against the taut fabric. Seonghwa’s expression immediately switches over to one of a smirk. “What have you been fantasising about, darling?” He pokes, looming over you with a cocky smile.

You can’t escape, the only thing that does is a small whimper. Seonghwa doesn’t push for an answer, because he’s busy yanking his pants down past his thighs, and his cock springs out, hitting his lower abdomen. He sighs as he gives his fat cock a couple of pumps while looking at you with your legs spread wide open for him, your pussy just salivating at the thought of him pounding into you into the next week.

He lines himself to your entrance and doesn’t warn you before he enters, and a squeal leaves your lips, then a soft cry as he pushes more inches into you—every inch going thicker and thicker as he goes down to the base, until he’s snug in your cunt.

“That’s my good girl. Warm and wet, just how I like it”, he whispers into your ears, as he strokes your thighs gently. More sobs leave you, your fingers pressing onto Seonghwa’s arms.

Just when you thought you couldn’t fit any more of Seonghwa, the sudden thought of him right now, fucking you in his uniform somehow swallowed more of his cock, earning you the most gorgeous moan from Seonghwa as his eyes roll back and his eyebrows scrunched.

“Baby-fuck!-just what are you thinking about? Squeezing me like this? Oh god”, his knuckles are whitening from his grip on the arm rest. He pulls out before starting a pace to fuck you with, and soon enough it’s only the sounds of skin slapping, both of your moans and the feeling of Seonghwa’s cock just pounding right into the perfect angle of your cunt that exists in this damn universe. You wouldn’t ask for more.

Your brain was becoming pulp, only soft sobs every time Seonghwa’s balls deep into you. You could only focus on how his biceps tensed against the fabric as his tits fucking bounced every time his slams his cock into you—which you definitely see it too—the way his pants hang just at his lower thighs, and his cock is just disappearing into your pussy, drawing out squelching sounds that were borderline obscene. Drops of sweat splatter onto your dress as he leans in to rest his forehead onto yours.

“So good. So fucking good to be inside you like this”, he curses, trying to not the feeling of his orgasm overpower him. As you were gradually losing yourself to the pleasure, he suddenly pulls back completely, and instructs you to face the night scenery with your ass out. He crumpled your dress to your waist, and his cock enters you again, causing you to draw a sharp breath. He doesn’t let you adjust—he just starts fucking you raw like that, leaving your mouth agape and eyes blown out from the pleasure.

He’s able to reach even deeper part of your pussy now, and he makes sure you fucking cry for him. “H-Hwa!”, you try to speak in between sobs. “Oh god, oh god. I can’t. It’s so deep.” Your hands barely have the strength to hold onto the rails as he is railing you from behind.

“That’s my pussy. Milk me dry baby”, Seonghwa grunts, his fucking becoming more erratic, admiring the way your ass bounces off his cock so naturally. “I’m cumming all the way in baby. Be a good girl and take it, yeah?”

And a drawn out moan fills your ears as his cum floods your abused hole, and you cry out as your second orgasm hits you, clenching his cock even more. A loud slap reverberates into the night as his hand lands on your ass, causing you to flinch and squeal.

“That’s it, baby. Oh, you’re such a good girl”, he hums, holding your hips as far as his cock would let him drive into you, letting cum dribble down your inner thighs. He pulls out slowly, admiring the way your cunt convulses, small loads of his cum and yours leak out of you. You release your grip from the railings and fall right into his arms, as he plants a loving kiss on your temple before whispering,

“I promise you’re the only one for me, baby.”

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #kpop fics #ateez seonghwa #y/n x seonghwa #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa #seonghwa

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kyleoreillylover · 8 months

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𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡

Rhea Ripley x Dominik Mysterio x Fem!Reader

Summary: You lose your NXT Women’s title, and Rhea and Dom are here to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: Cursing, typical wrestling violence, anger, etc.

Word Count: 3,138

A/N: We all saw what happened on Raw, so I just wrote this as a lil comfort fic for myself. Hope you enjoy!

You shut your eyes as you held your side, trying to block out the sound of Becky Lynch’s music playing in the air, trying to ignore her standing over you, a smirk on her face as she held your title. That was yours! You were so close to winning, so close to putting Becky away and making her eat her words that she’d been spewing for the past few weeks, make her regret her stupidity by making this match an Extreme Rules match.

Just a couple minutes ago, both of you were fighting, and you wee bruised and beaten, blood gushing from your face. Becky wasn’t doing much better, her arm bleeding and her elbow was fractured early through the match when you hit it with a crowbar. You were fighting in the crowd, beating the absolute hell put of each other with kendo sticks and anything you can get your hands on.

You tried to fling the kendo stick at her again, but she dodged it, and it clattered onto the floor. Your eyes widened at the angry look she was giving you; like this was the beginning of the end and you knew if you wanted any chance at winning you needed to stay away from her direct line of fire.

You bolted down the stairs, taunting her to follow you and she gave into the bait, hurrying right behind you as the crowd got louder with anticipation, wanting her to beat your ass.

You rolled into the ring, maneuvering over the chairs sprawled out but you didn’t get very far because she punched you from behind, taking you down with hit after hit after hit, her anger consuming her as she beat you into the canvas. You laid there limp, your mind hazy until she got you to your feet, trying to set you up for the manhandle slam.

You panicked, pushing her away and kicking at her elbow to make some room between the two of you. She fell to the floor, yelling out in pain. You spotted your title next to you, still in the ring from when you tried to hit her with it before. You saw Becky starting to get up, and you knew it was now or never.

You slammed the title against her face the minute she stood up, following that up with a ddt on the chairs. She was knocked out, and you smirked as you went on top of her for the cover, ready to finally prove to her that you were the better women.

“1... 2... 3-” The ref was about to slam the mat for the three count when you felt yourself getting dragged out the ring. Your groaned when your body hit the floor hard, but anger overtook the pain. You had her beat!! Who the fuck did that?!

You got your answer when you looked up and saw no one other than Tiffany Stratton standing over you, a smirk on her face as she stared you down. “That is supposed to be my title!” She screamed at you, her high pitched voice grating on your ears. “It was supposed to be Me vs you! But you chose Becky, and now you’re gonna pay bitch.”

You stood up, making your way to her with the nastiest glare she’d ever seen on your face. “Don’t blame me because your an untalented blonde bitch who can’t wrestle to save her life!” Tiffany took a step back but it was too late, you punched the taste out of her mouth. She fell to the floor, clutching her cheek as she tried to get away from you. Clearly she didn’t think this through.

“Now you’re gonna pay, bitch!” You yelled at her, enjoying the look of fear on her face as you stalked her. She bolted for the ring, and you chased after her.

You were right on her heels, running into the ring determined to beat her plastic face in when you ran right into a steel chair striking you square in the face, sending a jolt of pain surging through your skull.

Your vision blurred for a moment as you stumbled backward, clutching your throbbing cheek. Becky had a wicked smirk on her face as you collapsed to the floor, the taste of blood lingering in your mouth. You had no strength left to defend yourself as she hit you on the head, in the ribs, anywhere she could get the chair on you, over and over again. Eventually she lifted you up, hitting the manhandle slam on you onto of the steel chairs.

You groaned when your back made contact with the chairs, barely able to see through the haze of pain as Becky covered you for the three-count, the cheers and boos of the crowd sounding like a distant echo. The referee's hand slapped the mat, and your heart dropped when you heard the bell ring.

You lost. Everything you've worked so hard for, everything you've wanted for so long, slipped through your hands in three seconds.

Three. Fucking. Seconds. The number repeated in your head over and over again as you left the ring, storming backstage. It's where Dominik found you, pushing past wrestlers and crew members yelling at the ones who gave you pitying looks. "What are you looking at?" You screamed at a screen tech, who froze in fear as you pushed past him.

"Baby!" He yelled, trying to get your attention. You heard him but you didn't turn to him, you couldn't bear to look at him and the look of disappointment and anger he would be wearing on his face. Why wouldn't he be disappointed in you? You just lost in the fucking main event to one of your biggest enemies, and now your title is in her dirty little hands. He was probably disgusted with you right now. And Rhea. God, Rhea was probably repulsed by you right now. You ignored him calling you and quickly made your way to the Judgment Day locker room.

Your fists clenched, and you threw anything within reach—chairs, bags, water bottles—across the room, all while cursing loudly. The sound of your frustration reverberated off the walls, and the locker room atmosphere grew tense. "Fuck!" you shouted, sending a chair flying across the locker room. "This should have been mine! I had her!"

"Mi vida, it's okay! You did your best," Dom finally found you and walked in, trying to console you, his voice gentle, but you whirled around, your eyes blazing with anger. "Okay?! Did you see what just happened out there? I lost! I let everyone down!" Your voice trembled with frustration and regret.

"You didn't let anyone down, mi amor! Especially not me!-"

"Stop lying Dom!" You spat at him, throwing another bag at the wall. "I fucked up, now you and Rhea can go leave me now that I don't have a title. So stop acting like you care!"

Dominik walked closer to you, eyebrows furrowed at your words. "I'm not fucking lying! I don't know who the hell told you this shit, but Rhea and I would never leave you, title or no title." He grabbed your hand before you could throw another bag, ignoring your glare and wrapping his arms around you. "Let go, Dominik!"

"You need to calm down, mi corazon!"

"You should listen to him." The two of you stopped arguing and looked in the direction of the voice. JD Mcdonagh was standing in front of the door, giving the both of you a wry smile.

"Excuse me?!" You asked him with a scowl. Who gave him the audacity to interrupt a clearly private moment between you and Dom?? Dominik tightened his arm around you, giving you a warning glance that you ignored. JD was either oblivious to your attitude to chose to ignore it, acting like he heard nothing from you.

"What do you want JD? We're busy here." Dominik asked with an exasperated sigh.

"I saw what happened out there love."

"So did thousands of fans here and at home. What's. Your. Point." You questioned him, your piercing stare making JD falter for a second before he continued again, and Dominik prayed he didn't say anything stupid. JD already had Priest almost beat him up, he didn't wanna add you to the list.

“I just wanted to tell you have nothing to be ashamed of, honestly." He walked closer to you, a sympathetic look on his face. "And that it's okay, everyone loses sometimes. Some more than others, but not everyone is good enough to win all the time," he said, and Dom facepalmed internally. He might've been Finn's friend, but god was he dumb as shit. Dominik knew this wouldn't end well.

You went silent for a moment, narrowing your eyes at him and removing yourself from Dominik so he didn't get hurt before you hurled a table across the room and advanced on JD, shoving him against the wall.

J.D. tried to stutter out an apology, but your angry glare cut him off. "Mind your own business!" you spat, your voice dripping with venom. "Stop getting in my business! Stop acting like you're a part of Judgment Day! You never will be, you short piece of—"

“Baby, calm down!” Dom stopped you, trying to hold you back before you killed JD. "Calm down, amor.” Dom urged, his voice soft but firm.

You glared at JD for a moment longer before finally letting him go and taking a deep breath, your anger wavering and the sadness you had been trying to ignore consuming your mind. Dom noticed the change in your demeanor and gently put his hand on your face, his fingers grazing your cheek. You looked up at him, and for a moment, all the anger and frustration melted away as you met Dominik's caring gaze. He wiped away a tear that had escaped your eye and whispered, "It's gonna be okay, mi vida. We're here for you, no matter what."

But you turned away, unable to accept his comfort just yet. You didn't deserve it. "I don't want to hear it, Dom," you muttered, your voice choked with disappointment. "I lost. That's all there is to it."

Dominik sighed, his heart aching for you. He knew you were taking this loss hard, and there was nothing he could say to make it better. But he couldn't stand seeing you like this. "I'm proud of you, you know," he said softly, his hand gently turning your face back toward him.

You shook your head, tears threatening to spill over again. "Don't, Dom. Please."

He gave you a disappointed sigh, but he didn't push you any further. "Come on, I'll wait out here, you grab your stuff and we'll go," he said, wanting to do nothing more than wrap you in his arms and take all your sadness away from you. You nodded, and he made his way out of the room while you got your stuff. He quickly pulled out his phone, texting Rhea, who was back at the hotel.

Rhea<3 Were gonna be at the hotel soon, mami. How bad is it, baby? I saw it on the TV. She didn't look okay. It's bad. She's not doing too good. Physically or mentally?

Both, but mostly mentally. I've never seen here like this. She's about to come out the locker room, see you later mami. I'm gonna kill both of those stupid pricks for hurting her. Drive safe, baby <3

You slid out the room, your bag in hand and a look Dominik couldn't read on your face. "You ready?" He asked, grabbing your bag from you. You nodded, and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, guiding you out of the room.

The drive was mostly silent, with you staring out the window, lost in your thoughts, and Dom stealing worried glances at you.

When you finally arrived at the hotel, you both entered the elevator in silence. You felt Dominiks stare burning a whole through your skin, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes. You felt like you had let everyone down, especially Rhea. She had been your biggest supporter, and now you had lost the title she had helped you fight for.

The elevator doors opened, and you both made your way to your room. You hesitated for a moment in front of the door, not sure how to face Rhea. But Dom encouraged you to go in first, his hand on the small of your back leading you into the room. As you entered the hotel room, you were met with the sight of Rhea sitting on the couch, her eyes filled with worry. "Baby, are you okay?" Rhea rushed up to you, concern etched on her face. She reached out to check on your injuries, but you pulled away, unable to meet her eyes.

"Leave me alone, Rhea," you muttered, heading toward the bedroom, trying to avoid her touch and gaze. You were sure she was disappointed in you, and it hurt too much to face it.

Rhea followed you, eyes never leaving you as you avoided her gaze, "I know you're probably hating me right now," you muttered, your voice trembling. "You and Dom must be so disappointed. Just break up with me already; I know you want to."

Rhea's face fell, and she motioned for you to sit next to her. You hesitated but eventually sat down when she gave you the look that meant she wasn't playing around. She pulled you into her lap, wrapping her arms around you tightly. She examined the bruises on your face, her fingers gently tracing the marks. "That's not true," she whispered, her voice filled with a softness that few people heard her speak with. "I could never hate you, and we could never leave you, not for something like this. I love you, and I always will."

"I lost, Rhea. I lost the title," you mumbled against her skin, feeling defeated.

Rhea tilted your chin up, forcing you to look into her eyes. "And you'll win it back. I'm not mad at you, love. You did your best. It took two of those bitches to put you down." She stroked your cheek, her anger rising looking at the bruises on your beautiful skin. " I'm angry at Becky and Tiffany, and I promise you, I'll deal with them. But I couldn't never be mad at you, baby."

"But I-"

"No buts." Rhea cut you off, giving you a serious look and tightened her grip around you. "It's not your fucking fault, you hear me?" You nodded, but she shook her head at your action. "I need to hear words, love."

"It's...not my fault." Rhea knew you were still hurting and trying your best, so she didn't push you for more. She gave you a kiss on the cheek and glanced over at Dominik. The two shared a look, communicating without a word. Dominik quickly got up to your side and helped you up. "C'mon hermosa, you'll feel better with a bath. You wanna walk or you want me to carry you?" You didn't say anything, just walked into his arms, making the both of them chuckle as Dominik carried you to the bathroom, his strong arms making you feel safe.

He filled the tub with warm water and returned to help you undress, gently tending to your wounds and bruises. The warm water eased the pain, and you let out a sigh of relief as you sat down. As you soaked in the warm water, Dominik joined you, sitting behind you and gently massaging your shoulders to help ease the tension in your body.

Dominik carried you to the bed afterward, making sure you were comfortable. Rhea joined you on the bed, her fingers expertly massaging your tense muscles. You closed your eyes, feeling the tension slowly melt away under her touch.

"Go to sleep love. We'll be here when you wake up." Rhea whispered to you, stroking your back. You hummed back as answer, and Dominik smiled at your tired state and kissed your forehead. You smiled at the gesture and relaxed into Rhea's arms as you slowly went to sleep.

Rhea gently brought you into the covers, trying to not wake you as she tucked you into the bed. She made sure you were completely asleep before turning to Dominik, her voice changing from sweet to threatening. "I am going to kill Priest."

"Mami..."

"Don't mami me. Your injured. Finn's injured. He was supposed to be there for her. I told him to have her back, and he failed." Rhea hissed out, standing up and clenching her fists. She gave him one job, and he couldn't even do it. Didn't even show up. How pathetic.

Dom was quick to sit Rhea back down, trying to calm her anger down. "I know you're mad mami, I'm pissed off too. He left her hanging."

Dom held his hands out, and Rhea immediately slipped her hands in his slightly larger ones. He brought them to his lips and kissed them, relishing in the small smile Rhea gave him. "I know you want to deal with him, but please, for her sake... wait until Raw."

Rhea sighed, looking away and biting her lip in thought. Dom grabbed her face, gently turning her back to him, meeting her eyes.

She gave him a resigned look and nodded at him. "Fine. You're right, Dom Dom. I don't want to overwhelm her." She turned to you, staring at you sleeping peacefully, looking like every bit of the angel that you are. "But Monday, I'm putting him in his place, and you can't stop me. Got that?" Dom nodded, knowing he couldn't fight her on this even if he tried. Once she wanted to do something, she'd do it no matter what.

"You can deal with him, but you need to get some sleep first, mami." She nodded at him, getting up and going to the bathroom to change into her pajamas. She came back to the sight of Dominik already in his pajamas, sleeping soundly and cuddling into you. She smiled at the both of you before slipping into the bed as well onto your other side. She laughed when you immediately pulled her into you, Dominik stretching out his long legs and throwing it around both of your waists. She cuddled up to you as well, stroking your cheek as she watched the rise and fall of your chest.

Her anger rose as she looked over your bruises and your face swelling at all the hits you took. She forced herself to calm down for you and Dom, grounding herself by caressing your skin. She'd let sleep overtake her later, but as she looked at you, she promised herself one thing.

Everyone who hurt you was gonna pay.

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flowerandblood · 2 months

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (19)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex, manipulation, angst ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She didn't have a clue what made her feel an unpleasant constriction in her stomach when she saw the Iron Throne out of the corner of her eye. She stopped, looking at it, standing in the half-light in the distance of the great throne room, illuminated only by the light of the torches.

She thought with pain and bitterness that everything that had happened, everything they had had to sacrifice and fight for, was only because of someone being able to sit on it and declare themselves the only legitimate ruler.

Greed flowed through the veins of Targaryens as much as fire and blood, she thought with dismay.

Sunk in her thoughts, she headed for the throne room, thinking in the back of her mind that even if her father and mother agreed to come to an agreement to build a truce on the foundation of their marriage, if she did not bear her uncle a son, her husband's faction would surely begin plotting against her mother despite the agreement.

Even if her husband remained faithful to her, she could never fully trust him, be sure that he was on her side.

The perpetual thought of betrayal was destroying her from the inside.

She knew that in a matter of days her moon bleeding should begin and she knew what it would mean.

Disappointment and danger.

This was why, every morning for the last few days, before she had even had time to truly wake up, she had sunk her hand between her thighs, feeling her insides clench with fear and terror as she sensed the moisture under her fingers, which then turned out to her relief to be only her wetness mingled with her husband's spend.

It made her draw in a loud breath and smile, for a moment believing that maybe a miracle would happen.

That the gods by making his seed take root in her womb would also indicate to the kingdom that what they wanted to do met with their approval.

Later in the day, however, all it took was for her to feel a discomfort in her lower abdomen, a slight sting or pain, a wetness between her thighs and a cold sweat would fall over her again. She would then lose her appetite and although she ate her morning meal in the presence of her husband, she would later lie that she had eaten a second meal during his training and duties.

She was unable to swallow anything out of fear.

She had the feeling that later when he took her, already as her legitimate husband, something inside her broke, all her terror, her doubts and despair spilled out of her like a rushing river.

She was afraid of his reaction, afraid of his certainty that it was impossible for them not to have succeeded in begetting an heir even though her whole body screamed that it could have been different, that it could be months or years before it happened, and they did not have that much time.

His words, however, took her completely by surprise.

You need to calm down.

Come to terms as I do with whatever the will of the heavens decides.

She didn't know why she suddenly felt burning tears under her eyelids, why her lower lip began to tremble, why her throat squeezed so tightly at the wonderful thought that he understood that no matter how much she begged the gods for their mercy, she had no control over what would happen.

He let her know that whatever would come to pass, he would not blame her.

That he would consider it the will of the gods and not her failure.

She made love to him for the second time that night in his chamber, the embrace of his strong arms tighter than usual, the touch of his hands more tender, his lips finding hers again and again in sticky, greedy kisses as the deep thrusts of his hips forced his swollen manhood into her.

Even though she was a prisoner, she felt free, even though her enemy was taking her, she felt safe, even though some part of her thought it a betrayal, she loved him deeper than ever before.

Her lover.

Her husband.

Her friend.

She hadn't understood when she was still a child how important was the bond they had created then, the long hours they spent at night in conversation, in discussions, sometimes even arguments, after which, however, they always found each other again, realizing that they didn't have to agree on all issues.

She realised, lying with her face cuddled into his naked chest, holding her hand over his lazily beating heart, enveloped tightly in his arms with her legs entwined with his, that although at the time, in the context of their future marriage, what they were doing seemed unimportant, it appeared that it was in fact the foundation of everything that had happened between them many years later.

Had it not been for the trust and affection they had for each other then, they would not have been able to find their way in this reality that faced them now.

"I am truly fond of you, uncle." She said softly, sitting in one of the chairs in his chamber facing him, similarly engrossed in her reading, swinging her legs that did not reach the ground. She realised, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, that she had never told him this and she was not sure he had ever heard such words from anyone.

He lifted his gaze to her and furrowed his eyebrows, as if for a moment he did not understand what she had said; his face expressed consternation and embarrassment, as if he was unsure whether he should respond as a man to such a confession.

However, he apparently decided after a moment that since it was not an overwhelming confession of girlish deep love, but a simple expression of affection, he could also express his opinion on the matter.

"Well…I'm fond of you too." He replied cautiously and grunted, turning back to his book, pretending to concentrate on his reading with all his might – she could see the vein in his neck pulsing rapidly, betraying his excitement.

"What do you appreciate most about me? I, for one, value in you that you know so many things and always listen to me attentively. When I don't know something, you don't mock me but explain everything to me. I like it when you teach me and when you look at my embroidery, when you choose the ones you find most beautiful. I am very grateful then." She said quickly on one exhale, swallowing loudly, overjoyed that he had responded to her words, wanting to take advantage of this and convey to him as much as possible at once, which of course overwhelmed him as he did not look at her for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line.

It seemed to her that he was trying to hold back a smile, but she didn't know why.

He did a lot of things she didn't understand and refrained from emotional statements or gestures, however, it didn't bother her.

That was just the way he was.

She heard him swallow hard, gathering up the courage to reply something, pretending to look at what he was reading, although she was sure his mind was just analysing everything she had told him carefully.

"Well. I must admit that I also appreciate in you that you never mock me and listen attentively to what I have to say. I am fond of your presence, simply put." He muttered, clearly feeling that he was drowning more and more with every word he spoke, settling back in his chair a little, lifting his book higher, not wanting her to look at his face any longer.

She smiled contentedly then, happy, and went back to her reading without disturbing him any further.

She remembered that day exactly, for when she had escaped to him as she did every night, hiding under his bedclothes, she had fallen asleep almost immediately, tired after her long day full of duties. He waited apparently for her to fall asleep, hoping she wouldn't feel it as his hand touched her cheek, as his lips pressed against hers in a warm, soft, tender kiss.

She didn't move or open her eyes, feeling the heat in her lower abdomen, her heart began to pound like mad with delight, for he had never kissed her first before, never kissed her like this before.

She thought of that night and that day as she watched him standing on the other side of the chamber in the morning, his servant helping him dress his black, leather tunic while her maid tied the bodice of her gown.

Their gazes met for a moment and she saw him sigh heavily, unhappy at the thought of what awaited them.

Borros Baratheon.

The Lord of Storm's End appeared in King's Landing at midday, accompanied by his son and his daughter, who it was agreed was to marry her husband. The King called a gathering in the throne room, at which she and her uncle were also to be present, to try to face the consequences of their somewhat joint decision together.

She and her husband stepped into a great hall with tall windows with seven-pointed stars through a side entrance. She swallowed loudly when she caught sight of the silhouette of a postured man, his beard, hair and thick black eyebrows furrowed in disapproval and rage at the sight of her, his lips clenched as much as his fists. Her gaze fled to the right, to the girl standing next to him.

Maris Baratheon lifted her chin higher at the sight of her, struggling to hide the expression of frustration and disappointment in her eyes, clearly hoping that the woman who had stolen her prince would be an ordinary and bland girl, standing in the shadow of her dragon husband.

She, however, had specifically ordered her servants to leave her hair loose, for although when she was a child its colour had driven her to despair, now she saw it as her advantage – her dark and shiny curls fall in gentle waves down her exposed back, accentuating her fair skin and bare shoulders.

Her gown was modest, black and matte, with floral ornaments embroidered in gold threads on her chest, her sleeves reaching all the way down to the ground.

Anyone looking at them from afar could have the impression that her choice of attire was no accident, even more so standing next to her husband clad in a black leather tunic.

They looked alike.

Their evidence of unity and intimacy, a wordless expression of their bond.

She wondered if she could see from a distance the previously red and now slightly purple bruise on her neck, a reminder of her husband's greedy lips, and if she was aware of what it meant.

She pressed her lips together at the thought, trying not to smile and provoke her.

Although she couldn't call her ugly or rejecting, there was something harsh in her facial expression and posture – her elaborate hairstyle with her hair slicked back was perhaps fashionable, but it didn't suit her beauty or her face shape. Her gown, though rich, did not emphasise her assets, whatever they might be.

She thought she wanted to look haughty, to show her that while she was a lady of a respectable house, she was a mere bastard, even if the child of a princess.

Everyone turned their gazes towards the main gates when one of the guards announced the King himself; her uncle stepped into the throne room confidently without bestowing even a single glance on Borros Baratheon, Aegon the Conqueror's crown shone on his head in the glare of light trickling through the stained glass filled windows.

She felt her heart pound like mad as her uncle took his place on the throne, her mother's throne, and she clenched her eyelids, reminding herself that he had extended a hand of truce and that if she wanted the matter of succession to end bloodlessly, she had to control herself and give him respect.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at her husband and swallowed loudly, seeing that he stood upright like a stone, all tense, his hands clasped behind his back, his silhouette expressing the same passive aggression she had felt from him when she appeared in the Red Keep after many years.

He was prepared for battle.

He was prepared to kill.

"My Lords. We are gathered here today to address a sensitive matter. Lord Borros Baratheon and his house have suffered an insult and have come to demand justice. My Lord." Aegon nodded, extending his hand, with this gesture showing him that he was allowing him to speak.

Lord Baratheon walked closer to the throne, followed by his heir and his daughter, her gaze full of poison and rage still fixed on her.

She did not look away.

She had no intention of giving her satisfaction.

"I have come to demand that the honourable Prince Aemond keep his mother's word and marry my daughter, Maris, according to his choice. I witnessed his arrival and that he confirmed in my presence my arrangements with the crown. Yet word has reached me that the Prince has secretly married another woman in a barbaric ceremony." Borros growled, his voice tubular and hoarse, full of strength and determination. She swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in her stomach, a shiver of discomfort ran down her spine at his words.

She glanced at her husband feeling him move beside her restlessly, enraged, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He tried to remain silent and not explode.

Aegon nodded at his words with understanding.

"I understand your bitterness, my Lord. Indeed, our mother forced my brother to comply with her will. However, in my presence and that of our entire family, our father, and your King to whom you vowed, during the supper before his death, announced his will to us.

He conveyed to us that he was keeping the betrothal between my brother and my niece in force, foreseeing the division that would occur in the kingdom once he left this world. After his death, my mother imprisoned my niece and ordered my brother to fly to Storm's End.

Therefore, as you understand, my Lord, the case substituted in this light clearly proves that his decision could not have been in force, for as far as I am aware, it is the King's decision, not the Queen's, which is the final one." Said Aegon with a lightness that shocked both her and her husband.

She could not believe how good a speechmaker he was, with what ease he played with facts and half-truths, creating a image in which, indeed, his brother was in a no-win situation and their nuptials were an act of honour and a fulfilment of their late father's will.

Lord Baratheon drew in a loud breath, furious, his face all red with emotion.

"Are we to accept this insult in silence, then? They did not marry in the presence of witnesses, they did not marry in the Sept, so their marriage is invalid. I demand justice for myself and my daughter." He hissed, Aegon raised his hand, ordering him to be silent.

"I understand the source of your anger, my Lord. However, you have a right not to know that last night my brother married my niece in the presence of myself and my wife before the Septon, who prepared the appropriate act, and their marriage is valid in the eyes of the realm.

I recognise, however, the injustice that has befallen you and my brother has decided to donate part of his annual income as a dowry for your daughter. In addition, you or your son, that I leave to you, will be granted a seat on the Small Council in place of my grandfather, whose decisions led to this…misfortune."

He said softly; Borros pressed his lips together at his words, looking at Aegon with piercing eyes, clearly not knowing himself what he thought of what he had heard.

He hesitated.

After a moment, however, a woman's voice echoed in the throne room.

"It is impossible, my King. No one will marry a woman who has already been touched by another man. The Prince has taken my maidenhood."

All gathered began to speak loudly, shocked by her words – she felt her heart leap into her throat, her stomach squeezed so tightly that she had trouble catching her breath.

She and Aegon looked at her uncle at the same moment, her husband standing as if stunned, his healthy eye wide open, his mouth parted in disbelief. After a moment, however, his shock was replaced by an expression of anger and fury, he took a step forward like a lion about to lash out at its prey.

"Lie." He growled, the voices of conversation and disbelief all around them even louder, the King twisted in his throne, completely not expecting this turn of events.

"How can we be sure that it was my brother who deprived you of your…virtue, my Lady?" He asked quickly, wanting to turn her confession against her, in case it appeared that her uncle was guilty, to accuse her of being able to be taken by any other man.

She lowered her gaze, breathing loudly through her mouth, feeling the cold sweat run down the back of her neck, her hands clenched on her womb quivering as much as her body.

No, he would never have done something like this.

He wouldn't deprive a woman of her maidenhood knowing he wouldn't marry her.

Was she sure of that?

Maybe he took her as his wife that night because he felt remorse after betraying her?

She felt tears of despair welling up under her eyelids at that thought, feeling that for a moment she was in the throne room with only her body, no longer seeing the proud look of Maris who grinned seeing the expression on her face.

"I ran after the Prince once he wanted to leave. He took me in one of the corridors of our fortress against my will." She said without a shadow of embarrassment, as if dragging him down behind her was more important to her than her own honour.

She wanted to become his wife, the Prince's wife at any cost.

"Maris, good gods…" Mumbled her father, looking at her in disbelief, all red with shame at her confession, shocked as the others by what had left her mouth, knowing full well that she was not telling the truth.

"Disgusting lies. I followed my nephew out the stronghold and returned to the Red Keep to fulfil my duty to my father that same night. It was not your maidenhood I took then, shameless woman." He growled, and she felt heat in her heart and a burst of pride at his words.

Even though he had used lie against lie − after all, she was no longer a maiden then − the way Lord Baratheon's daughter swallowed her saliva, the way her body shivered under the weight of his words made her lift her chin, looking at her with superiority.

Insolent whore.

Aegon raised his hands in the air, clearly amused by the situation, ordering everyone to remain silent.

"As I see it, opinions are divided on what happened. Lord Baratheon is a party. Is there anyone else who could confirm your version of events, my Lady?" He asked lightly; the girl looked at him breathing heavily, her hands clenched on her lower abdomen. Aegon looked to the side, directing his gaze to his brother.

"And you, brother, can anyone confirm your words?"

"My nephew." He answered without hesitation.

She swallowed hard, reminding herself that he had, after all, allowed her to meet her brother, and the king wasn't aware of it.

That he could be accused of treason, lose Aegon's support.

"We exchanged a few unpleasant sentences before I returned to King's Landing. Only a brief moment passed between the time he left and our conversation. Certainly not enough for even the most desperate man to possess a woman."

"Who will believe the words of a traitor? Was it not he who took away your eye, my Prince? Did he take something else from you along with it?" She asked mockingly, her father looked at her in horror, his lips forming a silent, warning 'enough'.

She heard her husband draw in his breath loudly, his knuckles clicking in his fingers as he squeezed them as hard as if he wanted to break them himself.

"You were there, my Lord. You know that she did not run after me, and even if she had, she would have gained nothing. I chose her because she was most different from my wife. Lest she might ever think that I could lust after your daughter." He replied with a cold, deep hiss that echoed through the throne room.

She felt a wave of delightful satisfaction run down her body, and though she knew her husband's cruel words might have cost them everything, the look of disbelief on Maris' face was more than worth it.

Did she really believe that he had chosen her because she was the most beautiful of her sisters?

That he could ever desire her when she, his childhood friend, his confidante and lover was by his side?

"I do not know what I saw." Borros replied, however, without his previous confidence, not looking at him or the King, apparently trying with his last strength to protect his and his daughter's honour. Her husband snorted at these words.

"Pathetic." He sneered quietly, not daring to say it out loud; it seemed to her that his whole figure was trembling.

He was furious.

"If I were your daughter, I would be wary of such far-fetched accusations without any evidence or witnesses, my Lord. Some might call it as treason." Aegon replied, spreading out comfortably on his throne.

She couldn't believe some part of her admired him for how he was playing with the situation while still keeping what was happening under control.

Lord of Storm's End did not respond to his words.

Aegon's words were the nail in the coffin of whatever plan Lord Baratheon's daughter had in her head, and after her humiliating outburst, Borros agreed to the terms set by the king himself and the amount of her dowry, which her uncle-husband would pay out of his purse.

She watched with satisfaction and an involuntary smile on her lips as Lord Baratheon and his daughter were forced to sign the terms of the agreement imposed on them by her uncle.

Borros left the throne room like a storm, furious, without even bowing to Aegon, to which he only responded with an amused expression on his face.

Maris didn't dare look at her anymore, her face pale, from a distance she could see how red her eyes were from tears.

She wished to be a princess in a beautiful castle.

She could be his Rhaenys, but she had no intention of allowing any Visenya into their lives.

Even if it was one night in ten, she couldn't bear the thought of having to share him.

Fortunately, her husband was as possessive as she was.

The smile disappeared from her face as she felt an unpleasant, familiar stinging sensation inside her lower abdomen.

She clamped her hand over her womb as something warm and sticky ran down her thigh, a whine of despair and pain stuck in her throat as she pressed her lips together.

She took a step backwards, revealing the stone floor under her feet, and noticed a few drops of crimson liquid on it.

She was bleeding.

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dc-marvel-life · 7 months

Text

You Are My Family Now

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: Natasha is dating someone that the team does not like and tries to get Natasha together with Bruce.

Word Count: ~1.5K

A/N: This is for @waltermis. I saw that you looking for a story like this, and I love the idea so much I made it. Lisichka - little fox, I found this online so I am not 100% sure if it means little fox.

Warnings: The team is mean

You are an ex-assassin/spy for hire who was awfully good at her job. Your biggest enemy was the Avengers, but they never were about to spot you. You caused many injuries and near-death experiences for them, so you were on their naughty list.

No one in the world was able to get close enough to catch you, well no one but Natasha Romanoff. You also have a soft spot for you. You could never pinpoint exactly why but you had the biggest crush on her. It was the way her body moved against you. It was always a dance between you too, but you always got away. You couldn’t tell if you were just that skilled or she let you go on purpose.

You thought that she liked the cat and mouse game that you both played just as much as you do. It was also the way she talked to you. No matter what the situation is or what you said, she always had a sassy comeback that made your heart skip a beat.

—

It all changed one night in Paris. You were working a job where you needed to take out a mob boss who was staying at a hotel nearby. You were just about to walk up and take him out when Natasha came out of nowhere and stopped you.

A fight ensued and you got badly injured. You couldn’t finish the mission with how bad the wound was. You needed to get to your safe house immediately and take care of the wound before you bleed out. You somehow managed to get to your safe house alive, but you weren’t alone. Natasha was able to follow you back.

“Looks like you got sloppy there Silver Fox,” Natasha says once she enters your safe house with a gun in hand. You smile at the way she says your code name. She says it with so much lust behind it. This time you couldn’t say anything smart back at her because you were bleeding to death.

Natasha looked at you and saw that you were in real pain. You are lying on the floor with your hand on the wound trying to put pressure on it but slowly losing it. Just like you, Natasha had a soft for you too. Natasha puts down her gun and treats your wound. Once she finishes patching you up, she puts you in the bed and finds some food and water for you.

“Don’t scare me like that again Fox” Natasha says handing you water.

“Wouldn’t plan on it. Then who would you track across the whole world to see” you say taking the water.

“By the way, my name is Y/N,” you say realizing that you never knew each other names. Just code names Black Widow and Silver Fox.

“My name is Natasha. It is nice to finally meet you” Natasha says with a small smile. You both stare at each other’s eyes then something clicks. You both lean in for a kiss that feels like it lasted for hours. That night you both made love in that safe house until the sun came up.

—

That became your guys' routine for a few years. You guys will find each other then find a hotel or safe house to make love all night and leave in the morning. During the years that you both have been hooking up with each other, you started to fall in love with Natasha. After you guys finished, you would talk about everything. She told you about the Red Room and how she lost her sister. You told her about your backstory and why you are an assassin/spy.

You wanted to do better for Natasha, so you slowly started to take fewer and fewer jobs until you were completely out. Natasha was able to track you down in Jamaica. Once she got there, you told her that you were about of the game and wanted to do right by her. Natasha was so happy to hear it and officially asked you to be her girlfriend.

You said yes and you guys spent a week in Jamaica. Natasha didn’t know that you planned for this whole week. It was the best time of your life.

A month later, Natasha told the team that you guys were together and they weren’t happy about it. You have caused so much damage to the team over the years and it can’t be fixed anytime soon.

You understood and asked for a chance. The team didn’t want to give you a chance, but Fury wanted to keep your talents so he let you on the team with pushback.

You were happy that you could actually do some good in the world and be near your girlfriend. After a few months of staying there, you and Natasha moved into the same room together. Everything was going great with you two.

—

Now you are on a solo mission while the team is at the compound having a chill night drinking, playing games, and watching movies.

Natasha is drinking with the rest of the team but she is waiting for you to be back. You told her tonight when you come back you are going to cook her a nice meal to celebrate each other. So Natasha is trying not to drink too much unlike her teammates who are drunk right now.

“You know Nat, you shouldn’t be dating Gold Fox,” Tony says slurring his words.

“It is Silver Fox and she has a name,” Natasha says defensively.

“Look what we are trying to say that she isn’t good for you. Why not date Bruce? He is a better fit for you” Wanda says to her best friend. Natasha rolls her eyes at the thought of it. She only wants to be with you. It was no secret that Bruce has a crush on Natasha and everyone is for it but you and Natasha.

“No, I am in a happy relationship” Natasha bites back at her team.

“How about you kiss to see? You may never know. Now kiss” Tony says and the whole team starts to chant ‘kiss’.

“Hell no!” Natasha says but now Bruce is drunk and has some confidence. He comes over to where Natasha is and pulls her into a kiss with the team cheering.

Then you hear a loud bang. The team turns around to see you standing there with bags of groceries. You drop the bags and leave the compound.

“Look at what you guys did” Natasha gets up to try and catch you but you are long gone. Natasha sighs and starts to pick up the bags that you dropped. Natasha let out a sigh because she was looking forward to dinner. You always made her the best food and she wanted a night alone with you. You've both been on missions back to back and needed it.

Natasha picks up the bags and sees a small box. She opens the box to see a beautiful engagement ring. It is the ring that Natasha has been describing you for months now.

“You guys are all dicks!” Natasha screams and takes off to the landing bay. She knew exactly where you were going. The safe house in Paris.

Natasha takes a small jet and goes to you. She gets to the safe house and sees you on the bed in a ball crying while holding a picture of you two on your first date.

“Lisichka” Natasha comes over to you and holds you tight. She wipes away your tears.

“Why would you do it” you say in a small voice.

“Lisichka, it didn’t happen that way. The whole team was drunk and wanted me to kiss Bruce. I said no and he came up and grabbed me. He kissed me, but I didn’t kiss him. These lips are only for you” Natasha kisses your cheek. You turn around so you are looking in her eyes to see that she is telling the truth, and she is.

Natasha likes to think that you can’t tell when she is lying but you also do.

“Now were you serious about this” Natasha holds up the box.

“Yes. I was supposed to ask you about a beautiful dinner and it be romantic” you say sadly.

“Well, the answer is yes. And this is just perfect for me” Natasha kisses you with all the passion that she has. You hold her close so she does go away.

“Let’s run away together,” Natasha says once she breaks the kiss.

“Baby, no,” you say and Natasha looks at you confused.

“As much as I would love to run away with you. The Avengers are your family. You even got Yelena back in your life. I don’t want to be the reason why you have to leave your family” you say holding her cheek.

“You know that you are my family now too right” Natasha gets the ring out of the box. You stop her and put the ring on her.

“That’s very true,” you admire her with the ring on.

“Fine, but I will make them like you,” Natasha says in all seriousness.

“I bet you will,” you say and kiss Natasha again. You guys spend the night making love to each other in the same place that started it all.

Masterlist

#marvel #marvel comics #marvel mcu #avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanova #marvel fic #natalia romanova #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #black widow imagine #black widow x reader

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celtic-crossbow · 9 months

Text

I’m Your Fatal Sin

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: Daryl doesn’t like you going outside the safety of the prison.

Prompt: “I will leave now, or I’m going to say things I will regret later.” (Had to write in Daryl speak but it’s the same thing!)

A/N: Second request by @alldevilsarehere90. I took so long writing the first one that I did the second they asked for…and took equally as long. Apparently, “drabble” is not a word I’m familiar with and I should just call these novels. The prompt is waaaay up in the beginning but I just kept going. Sorry again, my friend! Also, I have not had this checked for errors and my brain is too tired tonight. I’ll go over and fix stuff tomorrow…. Because no beta, we die like men.

You watched him pace the length of the room, fingertips rubbing roughly at his temples as if he was fighting off a headache. That would be you, Y/N. You thought, biting back a chuckle. Your group had arrived back at the prison, battered, bruised, and bleeding but hearts still beating. You counted that as a win.

Daryl was not so easily mollified.

He had stayed behind on this run, having only returned from hunting just as your group was heading out. He wasn’t happy that you were going out without him. It was all so amusing to you, personally. When the two of you had first met back at the quarry, you had taken one of the squirrels he had brought back, held it by the tail, and smacked him upside the head with it after he had said something particularly offensive. It was even funnier that you couldn’t remember now what it was that he had said. Regardless, he had retaliated by soaking you in the blood he drained from the rodent he had been skinning. Even in his anger back then, you had caught the look in his eye.

You weren’t afraid of him.

Your friendship started then and there. You spent more time in the Dixon camp than you had with your own boyfriend. That had not gone over well. Mark was the younger brother of one of Ed Peletier’s friends. The moment Daryl had found you doing laundry and saw the shiner you sported, you were given your own small tent next to his and Merle’s. When the perpetrator had come looking for you, the Dixon brothers had formed an immovable wall in front of you.

You still weren’t sure if Mark had been killed by a walker like Merle had said.

Regardless, you were free. Daryl took you under his wing, teaching you to hunt and defend yourself. When he had finally handed you his beloved crossbow, you had laughed and asked if you needed to buy her dinner before squeezing her trigger.

“Stop.” Daryl had huffed, amusement gleaming in those blue eyes.

You had been out with the younger brother when Merle had been left abandoned. While you were angry, you knew how belligerent the man could be, so Rick’s explanation hadn’t seemed too far fetched to you. You went with the group to try and bring him home. You had taken the brunt of Daryl’s verbal aggression with grace, knowing he was in pain. He would never hurt you. That much you knew. When emotions were running high, Daryl floundered and would try to escape them by any means necessary. Even if that meant bucking against someone he cared about.

Still, you stayed.

Months had passed. You didn’t even try to keep up with that anymore, focusing more on the change of the seasons. It felt less like losing something if you only changed your perspective. The group became a family. You had lost the farm and wandered throughout the winter before finding the prison that was your home now.

You and Daryl had remained steadfast, but he continued to open up, bit by bit. First with Carol, then with Rick. Him coming out of his shell made you happy, watching him become more and more comfortable with the others. You’d be lying, though, if you said you didn’t worry about being replaced.

Then, after choosing the cells you all would call your rooms, you came back from your first shower to find the mattress missing from the one you had selected. Daryl was sitting on the top step that led down to the lower level, waiting for you.

“Did you take my mattress, Dixon?”

“Yep.” So nonchalant, like you had just asked if the sky was blue.

“You gonna tell me why?” You pressed, kicking his hip gently with the toe of your boot.

“Ya stay where I can keep a eye on ya.” He shrugged, continuing to fiddle with his crossbow.

“What if I wanted my own space, huh?” You sat next to him and bumped your shoulder into his.

“Cell ain’t goin’ nowhere. S’there if ya need it.”

You never seemed to need it, perfectly content on sharing his perch with him. You had brought things back from runs; books, pictures, and little what-nots that now decorated the area. He never complained beyond the occasional scoff or eyeroll.

And time marched on. Your role in the group was just as vital as anyone else now. You took watches, went on runs, and helped clear the fence. You lost sleep, gave up your portions of the rations to make sure everyone else stayed fed, and you sustained injuries. You weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty for the good of your family.

Which is exactly why you were now perched on one of the tables in the cafeteria, watching Daryl pace a hole into the concrete floor.

“No one died, Dixon.” You leaned back with your palms pressed against the table, collected demeanor the polar opposite of his pulsing anxiety.

“Ya coulda, though, Y/N!” The man snapped, his longer hair shifting to cover his face when he spun to look at you.

“Calm down before you have a stroke.” You mused with a smile.

“Can ya be serious for five fuckin’ seconds?”

You could have sworn you saw smoke boiling out of his ears. Damn, he was mad. “I am.” You sat up straight with your best attempt at stoicism. “Stress can absolutely trigger a stroke and—” You had started laughing while he stomped over to you and grabbed your shoulders.

“Stop, goddamnit!”

“Okay, okay.” You patted his forearm and willed yourself to choke back the amusement. “We’re all fine, Daryl.” Lips pressed into a thin line, he gave you a nod, one that continued even as he released your left shoulder to roughly flick the bandage on your thigh that concealed a deep cut Hershel had earlier stitched. You were taken aback, eyes widening at the tendrils of pain that snaked out from the tender wound. “Ow.” You deadpanned.

“Coulda been a lot worse, Y/N.” He seemed calmer now but his gaze was still intense, shoulders high and nostrils flaring.

“I know that!” You finally snapped back, twisting around until he let you go altogether and stepped out of your space. “Christ, Daryl, I could die just going to piss! I know how dangerous the things we have to do are!” You hated arguing with him but sometimes, brandishing your own anger was the only way to get through to him. He watched you, obviously chewing on the inside of his cheek before he brought his thumb up to inflict the same abuse.

“Nah, not you. Not anymore.” He shook his head and started to walk away.

“What the—” Pain radiated through your leg when you hastily hopped down a little too roughly in your attempt to keep up with him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Daryl? Daryl!” When he made it clear he had no intention of stopping, you had to sprint to cut him off at the door, pressing your palms against his chest to force him to a halt. “Where are you going? What did you mean?”

“M’tellin’ Rick ya ain’t goin’ out there no more.”

Your eyebrows shot up, mouth falling open. “Excuse me?”

“Ya heard me, Y/N.” He made to step around you but you moved with him. “Go get offa that leg.” He ordered in an attempt to persuade you into relenting. He knew better.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to say where I can and can’t go?” You seethed. Now it was you who was fuming and pacing, though it wasn’t as intimidating with your profound limp. Daryl crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. You suddenly wanted to punch him square in the nose.

“Ya ain’t got no business out there. Ya can do plenty here to help.”

“Says the man that goes off hunting alone every other day!” You hissed. Your fists were clenched at your sides.

“That’s diff’rent.”

“Oh, please, enlighten me. This I’ve just got to hear.” You laughed emptily and mimicked his stance.

“Ya just ain’t goin’ and that’s that.” When you moved to cut him off again, he was ready. His arm caught you at the chest and kept you from crossing in front of him.

“Goddamnit, Daryl! This isn’t your decision!” You yelled, trailing after him once again. You grabbed his wrist but he shook you off. “I want to help!”

“Ya can help here!” He shot back without looking at you.

“Would you just stop?!”

“Nah.”

“Why the fuck do you even care?!”

That stopped him in his tracks, nearly making you crash into his back. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides, his posture radiating with tension. He turned his head to the side and focused on something, anything but you, speaking to you over his shoulder. Somehow, this made you more nervous than his livid pacing.

“Ya even hafta ask?” You didn’t respond, utterly confused. The archer gave you more time than necessary but when you remained silent, he shook his head and changed course, heading outdoors instead of to the cell blocks. “Do whatever ya want.”

Your anger dissipated. “Daryl, wait. Where are you going?”

“M’leavin’ now or I’ma say things I’ll regret later.”

You called his name again but the only reply was the slam of the heavy metal door.

Your search for him didn’t last long. You knew better than anyone that there was no finding Daryl when he didn’t want to be found. In his absence, you did the only thing you could do: sulk.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Carol queried, adjusting the basket of laundry on her hip after she stopped by the picnic table you had been perched at for the last 3 hours. Your only response was a heavy sigh. “Staring at the woods won’t make him come back any faster.” Your head shot up to reveal her knowing smile. Aside from you, Carol was the only other person to even relatively understand the younger Dixon. “What’d you argue about?” The silver-haired woman deposited the laundry on the table and took a seat across from you.

“He doesn’t want me to go on runs anymore.” A quiet reply while you toyed with some twine you had been using to hang up things around your space inside.

“And that bothers you?”

“Of course it does!” You snapped before quickly muttering an apology, though Carol didn’t seem affected. “It feels like he doesn’t trust me.”

“You know that’s bullshit.” Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. To your recollection, you had never before heard the woman utter even a syllable of a curse. She, of course, only offered a cheeky grin. “What? You think I can hang around you two and not pick up something?”

“Touché.” You nodded.

“Listen, Y/N,” she started and took your hand, “Daryl cares about you, more than he lets on.” She wouldn’t mention all the times he had come to her with questions. How he would mumble and blush when trying to figure something out to make you happy. How he would actively look for at least one thing to bring back for you from a run. “I think you should try to see this from his perspective.” Just like she had told him to see it from yours. “I think then you may be able to compromise, yeah?”

You nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll think it over. Thanks, Carol.”

“Good.” The woman stood and grabbed up the basket. “Besides, you’re both insufferable when you’re fighting.” You reached out to give her a playful shove as she walked by and then patted the hand she laid briefly on your shoulder.

She was right. You didn’t want to keep fighting with Daryl. It made you both (and apparently everyone else) miserable. You’d have to come up with something in the middle.

The sky had faded to a pale lavender with the orange hue of the setting sun peeking over the trees. It was getting late and Daryl hadn’t returned. Your fingertips were sore from drumming on the table. Just as you stood with the intent to grab a weapon and go after him, a silhouette emerged from the treeline. There was a distinct outline of a crossbow on their back. The relief was immense and had you sinking back down onto the bench with your hand clutching the front of your shirt.

Your eyes stayed trained on him as he made his way past the walkers outside and entered the gate that was promptly closed behind him. From a distance, he appeared fine albeit a little dirty. He walked slowly with his head down, but he had been out all day, so you hoped that was nothing more than fatigue. He made it a little closer than you thought he would before he raised his head and his gaze went straight to you.

“Hey.” You offered, standing slowly. He gave you a nod and you thought he may walk on by, but he stopped just shy of the table. “You okay?” Another nod, his eyes seemingly studying your boots. “Look, Daryl—”

“I was wrong.” It came out so quickly that you had to think about it for a moment before you made sense of what he said. “Earlier. Was wrong. Ain’t got no right to tell ya what to do.”

This time, it was you who nodded. “I know why though.” He looked up, blue eyes peering from behind his hair.

“Ya do?”

“Yeah. You want to keep me safe. You care about me.” You smiled, small but genuine. A strange look crossed his face but was gone a moment later. Was that disappointment?

“Right.” He had started to chew on his thumbnail.

Licking your lips nervously, you continued. “I’ll do no more than two runs a week. And only when you’re going too.” You were absolutely certain you caught a ghost of a smile.

“Fair ‘nough.” He was shifting from foot to foot now, thumb still pressed against his lips. You had been so focused on the problem at hand that you hadn’t noticed the anxiety radiating from him in waves. Something was off. This had been too easy.

“Daryl, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mhm, just—just tired.” His eyes said as much. You placed your hand on his bicep and ushered him along toward the door.

“Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving!” Had your focus not been ahead, you would have seen the way he only smiled once he looked down at you.

“Got some formula for Lil Asskicker.” Daryl rounded the end of the aisle you were knelt in, displaying the four cans in his pack before closing it up and placing it on his shoulder.

“That’ll last her about 3 days.” You quirked, causing Daryl to snort behind you. “She’s growing like a little weed.” There wasn’t much left in the way of over the counter medications but you had scored some infants Tylenol and gas relief drops, as well as medication for the adults. “The food was pretty picked through. I got a couple of cans of fruit, though!” You placed three more bottles of tylenol in your bag and stood, your knees protesting the movement.

“Y’ready then?” Daryl turned to head to the front of the old store. Glenn and Maggie were set to meet the two of you in the parking lot.

“All set!” You confirmed, adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. You jogged to catch up with the archer, bumping into his side while pulling your knife from its sheath. Daryl smirked and ruffled your hair before gently shoving you away. “Pretty good haul, I think. Maybe we could stop by that gas—”

“Sshh.” The bowman had gone rigid, his hand just in front of your mouth. “Ya hear that?” It was faint at first but the closer the two of you moved towards the front of the store, the louder the thumping and moaning became.

“That sounds like an awful lot of walkers, Daryl.” You rounded the broken down checkout lanes to bring the doors into view and felt your stomach drop. The light that should have been filtering through the dusty glass doors was completely snuffed out by the multitude of bodies shuffling past. A glance at the archer found him tense and mirroring your expression. “Glenn and Maggie—” You whispered urgently.

“They’ll wait ‘em out. Ain’t their first rodeo.” He had lowered his crossbow to his side. “Ours neither. Get comfy, girl. Might be here a bit.” He hopped up to sit on one of the conveyors while you walked through one of the other lanes to look at some of the old magazines. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small piece of bright orange peeking out from under the checkout shelf.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked in an enthused whisper.

“What?” Daryl was on his feet, crossbow leveled with his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You were already on your knees to retrieve the object of your excitement. “Reese’s cups!” You sprang up to your feet, waving the small package around triumphantly.

The archer let the crossbow fall to his side, his face hidden behind his palm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Big word, Dixon. I’m proud.” You bumped him deliberately with your hip as you walked by, hopping up where he had just been perched. The man leaned his weapon against the shelf where the cash register was positioned and sat beside you. You didn’t ask if he wanted the second treat, just handing it over habitually. You always shared with him. He accepted it with a smirk you didn’t see since you were already taking the first bite of the stale candy. “Buttery baby Jesus.” You moaned, eyes rolling back.

Daryl barked a laugh, almost dropping the Reese’s. “M’not sure I wanna know why baby Jesus is buttery.” He was shaking his head when he caught your bewildered expression. “What?” He questioned around the first bite.

“They told me it couldn’t happen. That it was impossible.” You whispered, eyes wide. The look on his face said he was waiting for you to continue. “You… you laughed.”

His expression deadpanned. “Shtop.” He mumbled around the chocolate and peanut butter.

“I’m serious, Dixon. We were all wondering when we would stumble across the reanimated remains of your sense of humor.”

He swallowed and bumped you with his shoulder. “I hate ya.”

“I love you too.” Your lips pressed against his cheek and pulled away just as quickly. The man went rigid, eyes straight forward. You didn’t seem to notice, wandering around the front.

His blue eyes began to follow your movements, the tight feeling in his chest overpowering the butterflies fluttering madly in his stomach. His face was burning all the way to the tips of his ears. No longer hungry, he delicately wrapped the remaining Reese’s cup in its wrapper and put it in his bag to give to you later.

You had knelt down to look through a basket labeled ‘return to stock.’ “Score! Batteries!” You exclaimed, mostly to yourself, and quickly shoved the different sizes into your pack. Behind you, the archer cleared his throat.

“Think they’re gone.” He was motioning toward the door when you turned to acknowledge him.

You twisted to the other side to find nothing but dull light creeping through the glass. “Nice! You ready?”

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

You both shouldered your packs and grabbed your weapons, moving almost silently through the door. Glenn and Maggie had undoubtedly hunkered down as well, so it was anyone’s guess who would arrive first at the meeting spot. Daryl followed behind you, walking backwards to ensure the area you couldn’t see stayed clear.

“I think we’re good. It’s this way. Maybe Glenn and—” You rounded the corner, voice cut off into surprised shriek as two walkers tumbled into you. The back of your head met the concrete with a sickening crack and black spots danced across your vision. There was a loud bang to your left that you couldn’t place. Your body moved almost on autopilot, fumbling for the weapon you had dropped while you held one walker back with your forearm and kicked back the other with your free leg. You could hear Daryl screaming your name above the blood rushing in your ears. “D-Daryl!” You managed around the bile creeping up your throat. What seemed like several minutes later, the weight above you vanished and your gun was thrust into your hands.

“C’mon, girl! Up we go!”

Daryl’s hands were on you, pulling you up haphazardly by your arm. His voice sounded muffled but strained, like he was shouting under water. The world tilted and spun, and you felt an arm tighten around your back that you hadn’t realized was even there. You blinked hard, willing your surroundings to come into focus, but Daryl’s jarring movements were aggravating the already present nausea. Before you could warn him, you listed to your right and retched, the bile burning the back of your throat.

“Shit!”

His voice was a little clearer now, but you must have thrown him off balance. You tumbled down, only barely catching yourself on your palms before you would have smashed face first into the puddle of sick on the asphalt. Daryl crashed into your back a second later but quickly averted his weight so he landed beside you. A string of curses left his mouth as he pushed himself up, your eyes trying to follow him but stopping short on the smear of crimson where he had fallen.

“Daryl, are—are you bleeding?” Am I bleeding? You were being hauled to your feet again, the motion almost too much. Your vision grayed at the edges and you felt a strange tingling in your limbs. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.

“Over here! Hurry!”

Glenn. You had never been so relieved to hear his voice. It was short lived as you felt yourself fading. Your body was shifted again and now the world was upside down, a strong grip pressing into your ribs and the side of your knees. The last thing you saw was the herd of walkers closing in before it all went dark.

You awoke with a start, sitting up halfway before the pounding in your head made its presence known and you fell back with a grunt.

“Easy.”

Daryl. Thank god. You risked opening your eyes, finding him to be looking down at you from straight above. Scenery was flying by just beside his head. You were in the car, your head pillowed on Daryl’s lap. “Glenn? Maggie?” You asked quietly. You didn’t think you were physically capable of talking any louder.

“We’re here, Y/N.” Maggie’s voice came from the front seat. You felt her gentle touch in your arm and you immediately relaxed. You had all made it.

“What happened?” You asked, trying to keep your eyes focused on the archer when they wanted nothing more than to close and let you be dragged back into oblivion.

“Other half’a the herd came down on us. Ya cracked your melon when two’a ‘em took ya down.”

Worry and fatigue laced his voice but as you studied him, you could see the clear indicators of pain. Daryl always hid it well but you knew him better than anyone.

“You hurt?”

He shifted in the seat slightly and winced. “Ya must’a squeezed the trigger when ya went down. Shot me.”

Your eyes blew wide and you were instantly moving, trying to sit up. Your body seemed to disagree with that plan of action. “Where are you hit? How bad is it? Damn it!”

“Whoa! Hold up!” He pulled you back down, calloused finger smoothing the hair away from your face. “M’alright. Got the back’a my leg. Hershel’ll take care’a it.” You stared at him with wide, exhausted eyes. Were you actually lying on his wounded leg?

“I shot you?” You could feel the tears collecting on your lashes, guilt eating away at your insides, colliding with the nausea so hard that it made your vision swim. “I’m so sorry.” Your fingertips found his jaw, barely brushing the prickly hair there before your arm became too heavy to hold up.

“Ya didn’t do it on purpose, Y/N.”

“I would…never…” You suddenly felt exhaustion pulling you under, Daryl’s pleas for you to stay awake fading into white noise as blackness swallowed you up once again.

It had been three days since the run. Two had seen you lying in bed with Hershel doing periodic checks to ensure that the concussion wasn’t something more serious. Daryl had been there too. He would only leave when threatened by Carol, forced to go rest himself. He never stayed gone long. Rick had finally dragged an extra mattress in and placed it in the corner. The archer finally allowed himself to fall asleep and that’s how you found him when you had awoken near the end of day two. Hershel arrived to check your vitals and found you propped up on your elbows, watching Daryl sleep.

“How long has he been there?” You asked quietly. The old man smiled and released your wrist, satisfied with your pulse.

“It’d be easier to tell you when he wasn’t in here.” He mused while shaking two pills from a bottle. The sound didn’t disturb the bowman in the slightest, a testament to his exhaustion. “Take these.”

You trusted the old veterinarian and took the offered medication, just assuming it was for pain. Your eyes never left Daryl. “His leg— did it—will he—”

Hershel patted your own leg and waited for you to finally look at him. He shone a small light in your eyes and smiled again. “He’ll be fine. And so will you. You both just need to rest.”

You nodded and laid your head back on the pillow, turning on your side so you could keep Daryl in your sights. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. You didn’t hear Hershel leave.

Now, you were perched in the tower. It was the only thing Rick would allow you to do after Hershel released you. The sun had long ago set and the prison was dark and silent, save for the moans of the walkers shuffling around outside the fences. You had learned to tune them out when you were out there, allowing yourself to enjoy the fresh air and the quiet peace the night offered.

“Hey.”

You jerked around with a start, vision swimming only slightly as Daryl came into focus just beside the door leading to the ladder. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and chewed on the opposite thumbnail.

“Hi.” You smiled at him but it faded as he limped toward where you sat, hissing as he took a seat next to you. “Still hurts?”

“I’ll live.” He was looking out over the field and into the trees for a moment before turning to you. You avoided his gaze, and you knew he knew. “Ya alright?” You looked back at him and he tapped his finger against his forehead.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m feeling much better.” A smile graced your lips once again, not quite reaching your eyes. Daryl nodded, his thumb to his mouth again. “You were right, you know.” His brow creased in confusion but you looked away, finding the treeline before continuing. “I shouldn’t be going out there anymore.”

The archer shook his head and moved his hand back to his lap. “Nah, Y/N. What happened was—”

“My fault.” You nodded resolutely, ignoring the twinge of discomfort it caused. “I wasn’t careful. I was distracted. I shot you.”

“That was a accident.”

“That doesn’t matter, Daryl!” Your voice escalated. The tears stinging your eyes threatened to fall. The walkers beyond the fence zeroed in on the noise and began to gather. The bowman glanced over, assessing the situation. When the fence held the extra weight, he looked back to you, your cheeks now wet before you angrily wiped at them with the back of your hand. “I’m a liability out there. You need someone better to—”

“Hey,” he cut you off, with a hand on your knee, “ya got my back out there. You do.” Daryl ducked down his head, searching for your gaze. “Ya got yer shit together. Y’know what yer doin’ out there. There ain’t no one I trust more. Ya hear me?”

Confusion twisted your expression. You turned to face him, careful that your legs didn’t bump his. “Then why?” You asked with a gentle shake of your head. “Why did you fight me so hard about going out?” You watched several emotions skitter across the archer’s face, but he settled on one: guilt. He scowled deeply, bottom lip caught between his teeth with his gaze anywhere but on you. “Daryl?”

“I, uh—” You saw a spot of blood on his lip before his tongue quickly erased it. “I just—need to know you’re safe.”

He wasn’t making much sense. “If you know I can take care of myself, why are you worried?”

His face began to redden, the color spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. “Damnit, y’know I ain’t no good with words, kid!”

“Obviously. Because I’m not a kid.” You chuckled, your fingertips brushing his cheek before you used your palm to coax his head to turn. He kept his eyes stubbornly downcast, his hand immediately lifting his thumb towards his mouth. You intercepted and gently pushed his hand to his lap, keeping your own over it. “Just say what you mean.”

Daryl swallowed hard, his jaw clenching while he slumped in the chair. You knew where this was headed. He was trying to process something deep; something important. When faced head on with emotions, there was only one thing Daryl could count on: his anger. When his fingers folded into a fist below your hand, you didn’t let him pull away.

“We don’t need to talk about this. Let’s just table it for later, alright?” You smiled gently and moved to turn yourself forward, away from him.

This time, it was him that stopped you from pulling away. “Nah.” When you turned your face back to reassure him things were okay, he met you there. His lips pressed against yours firmly, almost aggressively. This definitely wasn’t something he had planned. Soon enough, the pressure minimized and you were able to react. Your brain was currently short-circuiting but you managed to move your mouth against his, finding a rhythm in the hungry dance.

Of all the things Daryl could “say” to you, this was definitely not on your bingo card for the year. His hands gently held the sides of your neck, calloused fingers sliding up your skin to tangle in your hair. Your own hands found purchase in the front of his vest, using it to keep him close to you; afraid that he would change his mind now that you had accepted his confession. And that’s what this was.

A confession.

Daryl was a man of action, not words. He had been for as long as you had been a part of his life. So this? You could decipher this pretty easily. He cared about you more than a friend. He was willing to be vulnerable with you. He trusted you. He worried about you. He wanted you close by and safe. He loved you. Was he in love with you? That was the only question left. You definitely didn’t mind waiting for the answer as long as he could keep kissing you like this.

You tried to pull back to breathe, but he held fast, tongue licking into your mouth the moment it opened to protest. Drawing a deep breath through your nose, you couldn’t help but let out a content sigh and allow yourself to taste him as well. Tobacco smoke and a hint of spice that you found delicable, craving more as you began to take charge. Releasing his vest, you opened your palms and pressed him against the back of the chair. Your lips never left his, even as the angle changed for you to be standing over him. He had released your hair and settled his palms on your hips as you lowered to straddle his lap.

You had begun to wonder just how far this would go when your full weight settled onto him, and he yelped (in a very manly way, if anyone asked) against your mouth. You pulled back, tripping over his boot and crashing toward the floor. Daryl tried to stop your descent, managing to catch your bicep which led to your hand gripping the front of his vest while your leg was still trapped behind his. You successfully pulled him off the chair, the pair of you meeting the concrete one right after the other.

You laid there for a moment, stunned and assessing the situation. When your eyes met Daryl’s wide blue gaze, you couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. The entire prison could probably hear you but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Especially when you heard the brief chuckle from beside you.

“Great first kiss, Dixon.” You let your head gingerly fall back, the stitched wound beneath your hair still tender. “Top notch.”

“Shut up.” There was no heat behind the words. In fact, he sounded rather relaxed. “First, huh?”

You grinned at the stars, wondering how red his face would be if you chose to look at him at that moment. “Of many.”

He hummed in reply. You started to rethink your words, worried that you were putting too much pressure on him, but then you felt his finger brush over the back of your hand. He didn’t do more than just press his hand against yours but allowed you to wrap your index finger around his. For several moments, the two of you laid there, silent but comfortable in it.

“I’m still on watch.” You finally said, already missing his touch when he moved his hand away. “I guess I should be, you know, watching.”

“Mhmm.” He replied. You turned your head to watch him struggle to his feet, hurrying to get up yourself to steady him. Once he found his balance, you let go and took a deep breath. You didn’t want this moment to end.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“‘Course.” He gave you a look that meant you should have known the answer already.

“Night, Daryl.” You plopped back down onto your chair and looked out through your binoculars while you waited to hear the door close. When it didn’t, you turned to find him still standing a few feet away.

“You, uh—if ya want some company, I could—y’know, stay.” He was blushing again, rubbing the back of his neck like he had when he’d first arrived earlier. You’d never tell him how adorable he looked. He’d likely murder you in your sleep. So, you smiled and nodded before patting the other chair.

“Yeah, I’d like it if you stayed.” As he limped back over, you felt a warmth rise and settle in your chest, one you hadn’t felt since before the world ended. Actually, this was new. This was different. This was the beginning of something. Something beautiful born out of darkness and death. Something you’d fight like hell to hold onto.

And you’d never have to fight alone.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #Spotify

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weirdo09 · 1 year

Text

sabes que te amo mami

a prowler! miles x black! female! reader fic

it’s been a few days since miles had talked to y/n and they were getting worried. ‘c’mon it’s nothin, he probably has a lot goin on.’ y/n thought, staring at her phone secretly hoping for a text from miles.

“mierda!” miles whispered yelled to himself, his suit was totaled and there were scars along his arms. “how do i explain this to mom?” he thought when he got an idea. he’d stop by y/n’s and get out just as quick, boy was he wrong.

miles made it through y/n’s window when they saw him. “miles?” y/n asked, “mami! hi!” miles exclaimed, giving y/n a kiss on the cheek. “miles.” y/n repeated sternly. “yea, ma?” miles said, looking around the room. “sit down so i can look at that.” y/n said, miles smirked. “ok, mamà.” miles said cocky, sitting down. you sat down next to him, “how’d you do this?” y/n asked, though she knew the answer. “it’s nothing, querida.” miles said, chuckling. “oh yeah, losing a shit ton of blood and bleeding out on my carpet is nothing. what am i gonna do with you?” y/n whispered, “stay here, don’t get up or you’re cleaning up that mess.” miles nodded.

after patching him up, y/n had some questions. “why haven’t you told me anything?” they asked, miles came back to his usual bitch face. “i just didn’t wanna worry you, mami, that’s all.” miles said, y/n hummed, not buying it. “baby, i’mma worry about you even when you don’t tell me anything,” y/n said, grabbing miles’ hands.

“then there’s the next thing, why don’t you start explaining why the hell you crawl out my window after not talking to me for months.” y/n said, standing up and crossing her arms. miles stared at her, “i had a job to do.” he said plainly. y/n dryly laughed, “miles, cut the bullshit and tell me the truth!” y/n begged, mikes looked down at his lap.

“miles, you can’t keep shutting me out. i know losing your dad was a lot but-.” y/n began to say before miles interrupted her. “you don’t know anything.” he said, bitterly.

“actually, you know what? i don’t know anything, i don’t know shit because you don’t tell me!” y/n shouted, “hell, miles, do you even love me anymore? i mean, you shut me out after your dad died and barely talked to me!” miles flinched, y/n deflated. “get out.” y/n said, rubbing her forehead. “what?” miles asked, suddenly standing up. “you heard me, miles, get the hell out.” y/n said, miles frowned. “c’mon, ma, you can’t be serious.” he said, walking closer to y/n.

“i have no where else to go.” miles said, desperate. y/n huffed, “you better be glad, i love you.” y/n said before miles ran up and hugged her waist. “sabes que te amo mami..” miles whispered in y/n’s ear, she smiled and hugged him back. “i know you do, baby, i know.” y/n whispered, kissing miles’ hair.

“you pull this shit again, i’mma fight you.” y/n said, miles smiled, “you’ll never win, ma.” he said before pulling y/n into a kiss. it was sweet and intoxicating, just like their love.

wooo, we’re done, hoped you liked it, i sure did

translations -

mierda - fuck

mami/mamà - mommy/mom

querida - dear

sabes ques te amo mami - you know i love you mommy

#cade’s writing ✍🏾#prowler! miles #prowler!mikes x reader #x black fem reader #miles morales 42 #spider man across the spider verse #atsv

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koenigsbleachedshirt · 8 months

Note

Please I need some emotions...I need how all three would react to finding YN beat up or something. The emotions, the angst, the possessive and protectiveness....PLS I BEG OF YOU

Bet 🙏🏻

TW: graphic violence, fighting, shooting

y/cs = your callsign

initial situation -> you were out on a mission with your team to deal with a no-name terrorist group. Everything had gone well until the last standing member managed to slam the butt of his gun against the back of your head. You toppled to the ground in pain, vision peppered with black spots. "Fuck... you piece of shit." You hiss when he gets you on your back and starts beating down on you.

Ghost

He hadn't seen or heard of you after calling through the comms, so he grew worried. "Cap', y/cs hasn't responded to my inquiries, I'mma go 'ave a look." Ghost informs Price, who nods in return.

He was decently close with you, so it left a bitter taste in his mouth when you didn't respond. What if someone had managed to mortally injure you and you were laying somewhere and bleeding out?

Ghost hurried through the rooms of the mostly cleared building and came to a stop when he spotted one of the terrorists on top of you, his fists continuously beating down on your, by now unconscious, body. Then he saw red.

Simon ran towards the fucker who dared to touch you yanked him up by his vest, literally throwing him a few feet away from you before proceeding to punch his living daylights out. "Ya fuckin' dare to hurt one of our mates?! I'm gonna fuckin' kill ya, damn cunt!"

He doesn't stop bashing his face in until it's a bloody mess, his fists dripping with the man's blood. He doesn't spare him another glance before going to check on you, blood running cold when he sees the state you're in. Simon's heart is beating out of his chest at the sight; your lip is busted and still slightly bleeding. There's also a laceration on your cheekbone and a nasty bruise forming around it, and not to forget the black eye you're starting to get.

Ghost exhales a shaky breath and gently scoops you up into his arms, careful not to hurt you any further. That bastard has probably beaten more places than just your face.

And he's going to kill them all by himself if he has to.

König

He had just finished absolutely obliterating five of the terrorists in another room and was about to check up on his team when he heard your pained cries from across the hall. König didn't waste any time, running to the source of the sound and kicking open the slightly ajar door.

The man was sitting on your stomach, violently beating you up; you try your best to kick him off, but he's too big. All you can do is try to shield your face, but it doesn't do much because he still got a few good hits on you.

But then you see your Colonel behind your attacker, distracting you enough to catch a fist to the jaw, and suddenly, you're out cold.

The giant colonel did not enjoy that. He picks the asshole up by the back of his collar and puts him in a chokehold. "You made a giant mistake here, du kleiner Bastard." König says into the terrorist's ear, sounding almost demonic, before he manhandles him around.

And then he breaks his back, like a stick that's being snapped over his knee. The man screams bloody murder, but König isn't done. Next, he breaks the arm he used to beat you up with, snapping it so hard the bone broke through the skin. And then the man went limp, either fell unconscious due to the pain, or straight up died.

He couldn't care less, though, as he tossed him aside and moved to kneel down next to your knocked out form. A pang of panic went through him as he hurriedly picked you up to evacuate and get you to a medic as soon as possible.

König is not going to lose you. Not when he finally found a new purpose.

Keegan

He witnessed it all through the scope of his sniper rifle, jaw clenched tightly. How dare this terrorist scum hurt you?

"Sergeant Russ here, I'm going in." He says into the comms before quickly making his way to where this man decided to touch something that wasn't his.

When Keegan arrived, you were already knocked out, his blood running cold. "You dare hurt my y/cs? Oh, you've made a grave mistake there." He says, voice dangerously low as he raises his assault rifle.

The terrorist on top of you freezes, arm raised back for another punch, but not plowing down again. "Get the fuck off of them, hands in the air."

The man does what he's told, but right when he's back on his feet, he moves to take out his gun, probably trying to shoot Keegan.

But instead, he aims it at you. Keegan's eyes widen, and without thinking, he shoots the terrorist straight through the forehead. The man's aim falters but still pulls the trigger, and the bullet lands inches from your face on the ground.

Keegan drops his rifle from the shock; that fucking man almost killed you right in front of him. His whole body is shaking as he flops down next to you, one hand gently caressing your cheek. "You're safe now. Let's go back to base." He says before slinging his rifle around himself and then picking you up and carrying you out of the building.

#ask - answered #cod mw2 #cod x reader #konig x reader #könig x reader #ghost x reader #keegan x reader #konig angst #könig angst #ghost angst #keegan angst #tw violence #tw guns #tw injury #tw shooting

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filmsomnia1 · 1 year

Text

You Protect who you Love

Movie Franchise: Scream

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Words: 1153

Summary:

Tara and Y/N are not official buy Y/N is 100% in love with her and once she gets a message from Tara that just says 'help' she speeds to Tara's house and acts on complete instinct to protect the one she loves.

Story

'HELP'

That was all you saw as a text message from Tara before you were barreling yourself in your car speeding down to Tara's house, you instantly became worried as hell, not knowing what was possibly happening to her in that very moment.

No matter how many times you would call there was no pick up which stressed you out and caused you to throw your phone in the passenger seat and start speeding even more when a minute later your phone started ringing and you saw Tara's name pop up.

"Tara!"

"I'm sorry this isn't Tara, she's a little preoccupied, currently bleeding out on her floor"

"You fucker, what did you do to her"

"Oh nothing, she lost the game so she became a human pin cushion but the real question is should I kill her.... Y/N"

"Don't you fucking touch her"

"Oh Y/N, Y/N, Y/N you always were in love with Tara weren't you, to bad you both won't get your happy ending"

You heard Tara scream again meaning she must of got stabbed again just as you pulled up and you ran out the car heading straight through Tara's front door when you see someone in the classic ghost face mask.

Tara looked up at the same time as your eyes connected and you could see all the blood because you looked towards the killer, "come and get me" you said causing the ghost face to stand up and you both charge at each other.

The both of you crashing into each other which was not the smartest idea consider the ghost face person has a knife which caused you to get stabbed making you shout in pain as you kicked the ghost face person off.

The two of you kept going back and forth and you had about three stab wounds, on in the stomach, on the back of your shoulder and a big cut on your arm but you kept fighting which came to a sudden halt when you three heard the sirens.

"Times up bitch" you said and the ghost face person made a run for it to avoid getting caught by the cops as you dragged yourself over to Tara, "Tara, you still awake, oh god please be awake" you said as you finally got to her.

Her brown eyes stared up at yours and she gave you a brief nod and you brought her head up on your lap as you waited for the cops to get here, you gently caressed her face to keep her awake "don't worry Tara the cops are almost here, we're gonna be ok" you said keeping her awake.

"You risked your life and you saved me" Tara said looking up at you and you nodded "and I would do it over and over again" you said to her so gently and you meant every work and just as you said the the cops came running through the door.

"Please help her first, multiple stab would and she's losing a lot of blood" you said and the paramedics came and got to both of you and took you both to the hospital where Tara went into major surgery and you minor.

Hours Later

You managed to work some strings and you and Tara had a room together which made you feel a whole lot more comfortable so you could keep an eye on her and know she was safe, you had also just finished giving your statement to the cops about what happens and they would come and get Tara's in the next day or so.

You also had it so no one but immediate family could enter but all your friends knew what had happened and Wes said he would contact Sam to let her know about Tara and you even though you wanted to you were very tired.

You ending up sitting by Tara's bed just waiting for her to wake up holding her hand "oh god Tara, thank gosh the doctor said you were going to be ok, when you sent me that message I was so freaking scared and then getting the call and hearing you scream broke my heart, Tara if you died I don't know what I would have done, I'd have so many regrets gosh I wish I told you I loved you sooner but maybe I'll have my chance at some point soon" you say as you keep looking at her hand holding onto it.

"Maybe you just got that chance" you heard looking up to see Tara looking at you as you stared at her in shock "and maybe she feels the exact same way" she added one making your eyes go even wider as a smile made a way to your face.

"You do" you asked finally being able to say something and she nodded as you started to tear up "thank gosh you're ok Tara" you said standing up and getting a little closer to her and she ended up moving over a little wincing while doing so making you concerned "careful" you said and and she motioned for you to sit down but you were apprehensive "sit" she said and you listened.

"Y/N you saved my life, you did something no one has ever done for me and I can't repay you ever, I've loved you for a long time now but I didn't think you felt the same so I kept quite but if this has taught me anything it's that life is to short and anything can happen so I'm not gonna hide it anymore and when we're both all healed up I'm going to take you on the best date of your life, if that's ok with you?" Tara said and you had the biggest smile on your face.

"That's more than ok with me" you said and you stared into each others eyes before slowly leaning in and your lips were millimetres apart and you looked up into her eyes and she nodded before you both closed your eyes and your lips connected and what you could only describe as fireworks started to appear.

Once you pulled apart you laying down next to her to just be near her and she cuddled up to you while still being careful about both go your wounds and you two feel asleep in each others other and you couldn't tear the smile of both of your faces.

#Scream #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

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dearhargrove · 2 years

Text

Change of heart

Billy Hargrove x f!reader

Request Henderson reader (f or gn) dating Billy, Dustin doesn’t approve, Billy climbs into window after fights with Neil and you patch him up (mentally and physically), but one night it’s really bad and he and Max turn up knocking at the door bc Billy is in no shape to climb, and Dustin answers and Billy is like almost passing out but eh and you have to help him, and Dustin is like “oh shit” and yeah happy ending please

summary Dustin never liked Billy, but he definitely didn't like you dating Billy. Until said boy shows up on the brink of losing consciousness but still manages to swoon over you. Yeah, that might have changed Dustin's mind.

tags violence, wounds, bleeding, Henderson!reader

notes I love writing, so I'm happy to be back! It was hectic with the first weeks of school and I haven't been focusing on much else. There was also no motivation, and I just felt guilty leaving you all hanging like I did. Let's hope it gets better! Love you all <3

masterlist • navigation

Dustin never approved of you and Billy. That's what you expected when you revealed it to him; blatant rejection and some disbelief. It was justified - Billy had terrorized the kids unreasonably for weeks before meeting you.

He had honked at the boys before nearly running them over - but this time you saw him.

You had approached him in school the next day, threatening to run him over instead. From that moment he was intrigued. After asking you out a few times you agreed and got to know him.

It would be quite the shock for everyone to find out he's sweet (when he lets himself).

The first time he needed your help was when he smashed his mirror out of anger, some pieces of the glass still stuck in his hand. You had scolded him and after coddled him, sad this was his only way to channel his anger.

It had luckily never been that bad, a few bandaids, some disinfectant and he was fine.

You were in your room when it happened, reading over your homework.

Dustin huffed out of annoyance at the aggressive knocking before ripping the door open. "What?" That's when he saw who it was on his doorstep. There Max stood, Billy's arm around her shoulder and only barely standing.

"Get your sister. He said she can help," she urges and drags him in. "Woah, Woah. Stop there - he's not going in here or close to my sister." Dustin disliked Billy and didn't trust him. He was scared that you'd end up getting hurt more than anything.

"No," Max just said again and walked further, huffing from the exhaust. "Dustin, what the fuck is going on?" You ask, eyes on the stairs as you walk down (you'd fallen down the stairs way too many times to not be careful).

Max yelled out your name and when you got down the last step she was in front of you with her brother draped over her.

He had blood running down his forehead and his knuckles were burst open. "What happened to him?" You quickly overcome your shock and help the small girl to get him to the kitchen.

You sit him down in one of the chairs and get your - updated - first aid kit. Since the first few times, you've stocked it up on bandages, disinfectant, and more stuff. You brush his hair aside carefully, noticing he was barely conscious.

"Alright, Max, Dustin? Keep him awake, talk to him," you instruct and wipe the blood off his forehead, getting to cleaning the wound high on his forehead. You're incredibly tense, the fact that you have to save this was challenging.

Sometime in between he wakes up completely, hissing in pain. "Jesus, he got me good." He jokes and you would've slapped him if he wasn't in a bad condition like this. "Billy?" Max asks frantically and keeps up the conversation, though his eyes are on you and his hand shakily on your hip.

When you're done you gather up the trash left from everything and gesture to the two teens to take it outside.

With a sigh, you cross your arms and lean against the counter. "What happened?" He smiles at you warily and shrugs, opening his arms. "Hug me I think I deserve some love," it's half-joking, half-serious, so you huff but gather him in your arms.

His head is leaning against your stomach and you have one hand on his neck. "He made some comments about you, and I couldn't stop myself," he explains and you're once again close to smacking him. "I've told you to just let it go when he does that. It doesn't matter to me, so it shouldn't to you."

He shrugs and grins, "Don't care."

With a shake of your head you hear the two friends come back in and take his hand, "Can you walk?" He nods and you help him up. "Pretty sure Dustin accepts you now."

Somewhere - that's way too close for them to not have eavesdropped - you hear Dustin shout a 'Still a long way to go!' and you laugh a little, Billy as well. "He's fierce."

Opening the door to your room you let him go, going to clean up your homework quickly. "Studying as always." He remarks with amusement, dropping on your bed. "Some of us have to," you drily say and sit down next to where he sat on your bed.

"You don't. You're smart enough not to and still ace all the exams, you know that right?" There he goes with the flattery. Scoffing playfully, you change into your pajamas before going to your closet to retrieve some of his shirts, so he wouldn't have to sleep in his bloodied clothes.

"Alright, I have this," you give him a white muscle shirt he'd left months ago, "and this," it's a pair of boxer shorts - you couldn't answer why it was there, but you're glad it was.

"Go change and come to bed, I'm tired."

He looks at you fondly, and even though his eye was swelling up and his face ached with every movement (just as the rest of his body did) he made it a point to send you one of his rare, but appreciated, big smiles.

"Be right back, princess."

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #dustin henderson #max mayfield #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove angst #dacre montgomery x reader #dacre x reader #dacre montgomery

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pixiekiwi · 9 months

Text

Left Behind | Newt

Hiii!! First post after a year and a half of inactivity!! Im finally going to start writing again becuz my bf has inspired me to start sharing my work again!! This is a very old one shot and I barely touched it b4 actually posting it because I need something to get my account bumpin again!! Anyways I hope you enjoy, hopefully I’ll post more soon :)

𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Inspired by Wait by the River, by Lord Huron!

Warnings: Angst, terribly written (written a year ago and just now posting!) also long asf.

Words: 1,634

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

People say time heals. But to you, time was the opposite of what you wanted. The more time passed, the more you missed Newt. The longer you spent apart from him, the more your heart ached, and burned.

He healed you, and without him- time is nothing but an aggravating evil.

Your heart tore in two pieces the day he left the Glade, choosing your brother over Newt. You were scared to leave, all you knew was the Glade. You remember the look of defeat on Newt’s face, how he welled up with tears as you gave him one last goodbye. How tight he held you before he was hurried by Thomas. You wished he never let go, you wished he never left you.

You were afraid, terrified even, but as you watched the love of your life leave the only home you’ve ever known you broke. Shattering like a mirror - splitting your ideals from reality. To follow him, you’d risk your life to do it.

Gally was watching you closely, you knew it. His eyes never left you when the blonde left you behind, he had a firm grip on your shoulder for comfort. You knew it was to also keep you within the Glade.

It was minutes later, your shoulder ripped from Gally’s hold, throwing yourself into the maze. Shouts of protest bubbled from the remaining boys in the Glade. Gally’s shout was the loudest, his own footsteps following behind you.

You weren’t worried about him catching you, as you had always been faster than him. You didn’t know the maze, for fucks sake you were a gardener with Newt, but you had seen the map. Minho was one of your closest friends, he shared everything with you. You had helped Minho study the map with Thomas, so you remembered generally where you were supposed to go.

The hard part was trying to fight the feeling that you were losing control of your own body. Your fingers had grown numb and your eyesight had fallen hazy. The further you ran down the path of the Maze, the less yourself you felt. You felt angry, angry that Newt would truly leave without you, angry with Thomas for cutting your goodbye so short. You couldn’t explain it, but you were angry with the world.

You had lost Gally minutes ago, you didn’t care. You needed to reach the group.

When you reached the Griever Hole you stopped in your tracks, and everything went black.

—

There you were again, you were in a new place, your surroundings electronic and gray. As the hazy feeling in your body faded you saw in front of you were your friends, Newt, Thomas, Minho- but something was wrong. Chuck, on the floor, bleeding.

That’s when you felt it, a flame of pain erupted in your chest. Looking down to your hand you realized you had something in your hand. A gun. You thought.

No, no, no, no-

You looked down to where the pain was in your chest, seeing a large sharp pole sticking what felt like, straight through your heart. You tried to gasp, as time seemed to pick up its pace, two bodies rushed to you. One catching you before you fell to the ground.

The two bodies were Newt and Minho, it seemed as though chaos was erupting around them and you. Light poured into the room, you could only hear Newt’s desperate cries.

“Please (Y/N) stay with me-” salty tears trailed down the blonde's face as he held you closely to his own body. Newts free hand grazed your dirt stained and sweaty face. Your skin was so pale, it made him sick. Minho stood above him, his face filled with fear. He was yelling at someone across the room, his angry words too distant to understand.

The soft touch of Newt’s hands sent you into a flurry of unexplainable emotions. You felt like you couldn’t breathe when he was holding you, although - the spear sticking out of your chest probably had something to do with that.

“I..” you tried your best to gasp out a few words, sorrow coating your tone, “I’m.. I’m so.. So sorry.” Tears welled up in your lashes, you couldn’t see anymore. Your vision was failing.

“(Y/N) please-” Newt’s voice echoed through your once again hazy mind, you could tell he was crying; his voice raspy, “Please don’t leave me, I.. I love you please baby.”

His heart wrenching pleas were the last thing you heard as you faded into nothingness once again.

–

Months passed without Newt, unsure if he was even alive. You and Gally had been saved by Lawrence and his group. Only being picked up moments after Newt had been snatched up by WCKD. It was scary, leaving the only home you’ve ever known, knowing you killed the sweetest boy you’ve ever met, Chuck.

After telling Gally how you weren’t even conscious when it happened; he tried to convince you it was WCKD who was controlling you. And although you knew this was true, you couldn’t help but feel as though it was you the whole time. You remember feeling angry before, but you never wanted to kill anyone.

And now here you were, perched on the large windowsill in Lawrence’s office, gazing out into the Scorch as your brother patrolled the outside of the Last City.

You were close with Lawrence, he grew to be like a father figure over you and Gally. You had confided with him about Newt and your friends in the Glade, and he understood. Lawrence himself lost a lot of friends, especially since he was half cranked-out.

Gally had been a big support system for you as well, he had comforted you through the nights you had cried yourself into exhaustion, missing the one person who made you feel whole.

You missed the warm summer nights in the Glade you spent with Newt, under the starry sky - wrapped up in his arms. He held you so tight, like he never wanted to let go - but he did.

“Y/N,” Lawrence’s raspy voice startled you from your thoughts, looking to the older man you noticed he was holding an orchid gazing at you quizzically, “Where did you go?”

You pulled your legs up to your chest, glancing out the window once more as you hummed in response, “Oh you know, wonderland.” You scoffed slightly at your own words, turning back to Lawrence.

Lawrence chuckled in response, his focus shifting back to the roses he was watering.

You sighed, your head resting on the window pane next to you. Closing your eyes tiredly - before you could pass out you heard commotion in the hallway. You sighed frustratedly, tucking yourself further behind the plants that guarded the windowsill. Maybe it was Gally finally coming back from patrol, you didn’t care though as you really just wanted to get some shut eye.

The door of Lawrence’s office flew open, causing your own eyes to snap open. You were hidden far enough in the window that you couldn’t make out who it was that had barged in so rudley.

“Gally- I’m glad to see you made it back, Jasper told me what happened,” the Crank man hummed his words.

“It was a slaughter,” The gruff voice of your brother seemed to cut through the eerie environment of Lawrence’s office, “there was nothing we could do against those guns.” Your heart sunk, you didn’t want to hear anymore - tuning out Lawrence’s response you played with your hands. Ignoring the aching feeling of sorrow in your chest, more people dead in an already deserted world.

Lawrences sudden sternness of voice caught your attention, causing you to tune into the conversation once more, “Now. Who are these people? Why are they here?”

Gally brought someone to Lawrence?

There was a tense pause of silence, and you held your breath, awaiting the unknown person to speak.

“We need to get into WCKD.”

The familiar voice sent you into a spiral of emotions, your body freezing up and going numb, was it really Thomas? You made a move to stand as Thomas continued speaking - “Gally said you can get us through the walls.” Your heart stopped, it really was him, his voice was more serious than it was back in the Glade, maybe even a bit fearful.

You froze before moving into sight of the others. You were preparing for the worse, what if Newt wasn’t with him? What if… You didn’t even want to think about it - your eyes welled up with tears as you hesitantly moved from behind the wall of plants.

You froze, looking to where the familiar group stood in front of you - each of their eyes now on you. Every expression showed surprise, but you didn’t care about that - your own eyes meeting the one person you missed so dearly. Newt.

You gasped - the tears that threatened to fall earlier now trailing down your face.

The blonde boy lurched forward, his arms around your frame immediately, crushing you with a force you didn’t know he had. His own shoulders seemed to shake - he was crying too.

You broke a sob as your arms wrapped weakly around his waist. You never expected to see him again, you thought he was gone.

“Newt- I’m so sorry,” your sobs broke through his chest as your arms pulled him closer to your body.

He shushed you immediately “No (Y/N), I shouldn’t have ever left you,” his own cries broke his composure- pulling you closer than ever.

Your head shook, apologizing over and over again while Newts lips kissed the top of your head, whispering how much he loved you.

This time, he truly would never leave you behind.

#newt x reader #x reader #maze runner #tmr #tmr x reader #maze runner x reader #newt tmr #newt maze runner #newt oneshot #maze runner oneshot #x reader oneshot #tmr oneshot #maze runner newt x reader

146 notes · View notes

wandabear · 11 months

Text

All my dreams, they fade away (I'll never be the same)

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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female reader status: this is a 'You always love me more (when we're miles away)' sequel. part two, alternative ending. You asked for it, im giving. ㅤㅤ

part one - part two

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHAPTER TWO

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I just woke up from a fuzzy dream... You never would believe those things that I have seen. I looked in the mirror and I saw your face. You looked right through me, you were miles away. All my dreams they fade away I'll never be the same. ㅤㅤ

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The sadness never left her heart. ㅤㅤ

Despite the fact that she was raised to overcome any kind of pain, including letting go of her feelings and ignore them to the point of forgetting that they exist, the only pain she had ever been able to overcome was the death of the person she loved the most.

Because she loved her, she loved Y/N, until her dying day.

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Every night, nightmares tormented the widow. Sometimes memories of the Red Room and other times, even worse.

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The room was cold. The rain crashed against the window of that stormy night in Buenos Aires. But the cozy sound of the rain was suddlendly interrupted by the sound of gunshots; a young woman ran through the corridors of that building trying to cover herself.

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“I'm going, you take them.” she told the redhead, pointing to the people they were trying to protect and get out alive from that floor.

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"I'm not going to leave you here all alone, I came to help you." Natasha assured shaking her head.

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“Please, Sam, tell her…” Y/N swallowed and took courage, more than ever, remembering why she had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. And she thought about telling Natasha so many things, thought about sending her endless messages, but the brunette just ignored it. The Black Widow wouldn't be interested in knowing anyway. “Thank you, Sam.”

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Without further ado, Y/N raised her weapons and battled in that hallway with every watchdog that crossed her path. Even though Natasha tried to take her arm, the hand passed through Y/N as if she were intangible. ㅤㅤ

All she could do was watch as Y/N confronted them with gunshots and hand to hand, beating as many as she could. And every time they fell, Y/N was shot. First in her abdomen, and still, she didn't stop.

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Two more fell, until another bullet went through her leg and shoulder.

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And despite the pain, and the blood that began to trickle down her lips, she kept shooting and fighting until one of the bullets pierced her chest.

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But Natasha couldn't do anything, see everything and not be able to do anything was killing her. The screaming and crying, no one could hear her.

But at the end of that fight, no Watchdog was left alive, and that made Y/N smile slightly before falling to the ground.

ㅤㅤ “Please, save me.” Y/N barely asked, chocking on the blood.

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“I'll do it. Please, моя любовь, stay with me.” Natasha begged, pressing the wound on her belly and chest. So much blood, so many shots, it was impossible for her not to start bleeding to death. The redhead began to despair in tears.

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Natasha looked into those beautiful but sad eyes, Y/N’s eyes started to lose that lovely glow. But Y/N looked at her whispering: “You can’t do it... You sent me here to die.”

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“What?” The spy shook her head and quickly stammered: “No, don’t say that.”

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“You killed me first.” Before she could say anything, Y/N took one more breath before finally dying. Her gaze lost, the red on her body contrasting with the skin, and that red hourglass pendant on her chest reminded Natasha that she had caused the damage.

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“No, no, no, please… stay!” Natasha tried to wake her up, but she was the one who did it when a thunder finally woke her up from that nightmare.

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The redhead sat on the bed, looking around the dark room. The window in front of her showed the huge and vast forest that surrounded the Compound and the lightning in the sky.

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Another nightmare, again.

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Like every day, Natasha got up and showered before going down to the kitchen so she could drink a steaming cup of coffee. The russian looked at herself in the mirror, stroking that little moon under her ear. That small tattoo that had been done long ago in Y/N's memory. Y/N always reminded her that when she was born, there was a beautiful waning moon.

Her mornings were silent until the others began to wake up, the only one she sometimes used to join was Wanda.

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Wanda, who at first hated her deeply. The sokovian kept reminding her that Y/N's death was in her hands, and how much she hurted her.

But as the days and weeks passed, Wanda realized that Natasha was also suffering in her own way. The Black Widow’s thoughts were really overwhelming, so much so that Wanda had to get away from her in order to deal with her own pain.

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Two years later, they maintained a nice friendship. Pain brought them together like never before, but none of them finished healing.

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Clint was by her side too, he never abandoned Nat even though she didn't want to ruin his happiness with his family.

But then the world changed, and with it came chaos.

Thanos attacked, the world fell into desolation, her friends and sister left, leaving Natasha Romanoff even more alone.

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Why? why keep fighting? She wondered that a thousand times, trying to keep the Compound going.

That strong and seductive woman, so sure of each step she took, was beginning to fall behind. Although she always felt, she just didn't feel she deserved it.

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Those hard green eyes now showed absolute sadness. But suddenly, in the most darkest place, there was a hope. A tiny scrap, like a captivating little glow, just had to fight again.

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Fight and they’ll be back.

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She owed it to Y/N, her best friend was victim of the snap. The least she could do was save Yelena and Wanda. Just had to take a little trip back in time and everything, everything would be fine.

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“We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back.” Steve told each of them but mostly, he fixed his gaze on Nat who nodded. He was her closest friend all these years.

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“You know your teams. You know your missions. Most of us are going somewhere we know, that doesn't mean we should know what to expect.” Nat added and they all stood at that machine, ready to go. “We're gonna win. Whatever it takes.”

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Minutes after having lived the strangest trip of their fucking lives, Steve, Bruce, Natasha and Clint appeared in 2012 New York, where they would try to steal the scepter but everything got a bit messy.

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Without the scepter and the tesseract, the best plan was to go back in time to the perfect place to find tjem.

Steve and Tony would go to 1970, to look for the tesseract and pym particles. Natasha and Clint, to the last place they saw the scepter and the pym particles as well.

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Once Clint and Nat appeared in the Compound several years ago, they looked at each other.

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2016.

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“Ready?” Clint asked as the quantum suit disappeared, both of them wearing rather usual clothing. They both had pretty good alibis, Natasha was on a personal mission and Clint was away with his family for a week.

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They both walked through the place in a certain hurry, going completely unnoticed. None of the agents seemed surprised to see them.

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“I’ll go for the scepter, you take the particles." Clint muttered, taking the opposite corridor. The plan was simple, she had to go to the labs and take the particles that Scott kept in the vaults. Easy.

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After taking them and smiling to see how Bruce was busy trying to understand something on the screen, Natasha left the lab with a victorious smile.

They would go home and bring everyone with them.

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But what she least expected was to bump into someone while crossing the hall. The particles were about to crash to the ground, but the widow was faster and caught them instantly.

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“Fuck!” Y/N grumbled picking up her stuff, the coffee she was carrying stained on the papers that she now had to sign again. “Oh, sorry, Agent Romanoff.”

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Those words seemed so empty, Natasha looked up to see nothing more than the stripping of what her beloved had been. The dark circles, the sadness in those eyes. Especially when she saw Natasha smile happily as she left the laboratory where Bruce was.

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Natasha finally remembered, she spent those two weeks avoiding Y/N, trying not to deal with the decisions she made. Oh, of course Nat remembered that day, because it was a day before Y/N died.

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She was alive. Y/N was still alive.

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‘Nat, what are you doing? You know you can’t-’

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But Natasha completely ignored Clint's voice in the earpiece, she felt her heart beating so fast again, fought hard not to come closer and hug Y/N tightly. She fought the urge to tell her that she loved her, that her wounded heart was hers and that in years, she wasn’t able to let her go. And never would. She fought the urge to tell Y/N, finally confess, that she was the love of her life.

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“It’s okay, I was able to catch them.” Natasha murmured, trying to calm herself down and look like it was nothing.

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Y/N nodded and then stared at redhead for a moment, frowning. Her gaze fell on that little moon on her neck, finally encouraged to ask: “Did you dye your hair tips blonde?”

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Nat swallowed, clearly having forgotten that over time, things changed. Y/N never experienced the events that she did. What she least expected was that someone would notice the blonde tips of her red hair.

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“Oh yeah, I was... trying something.” The russian spy cleared her throat and looked away, putting the particles away without Y/N noticing.

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“Interesting.” Almost like an imperceptible whisper, Y/N realized that Natasha couldn't even look at her.

Did she hate her guts that much? Did Natasha ever really loved her? She couldn't even see Y/N's face after dumping her.

It was so painful, seeing her so beautiful and impossible. Not like a crush, this time, much worse.

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‘Natasha, we have to go now.’

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“Okay, I have to go.” Natasha walked away from her, leaving Y/N behind one more time. And every step she took was the most painful; a stab to her heart. But what if…?

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“Y/N?” She turned. “Watchdogs mission tomorrow?”

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‘Natasha, don’t do it.’ Clint again.

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“You can't go, I will take you off the list.” The russian said with a coolness that sent a chill down her own spine.

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“What? Why?!” Y/N approached frowning, quite shocked. It was an incredible opportunity, this mission would be the one that would save her from the dark pit she was in right now. “I've been working on that mission with Sam for a while. You can't do that!”

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“You need to stay here, look at those fucking dark circles you have there. You’re ineffective like this.” Natasha acted in the coldest way she could, this time, feeling her heart break as she saw Y/N's eyes filled with tears. She could see her chin twitch and it felt horrible. “Tomorrow's operation is important and you need to rest. You're staying at the Compound until the end of the week.”

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Natasha started walking towards the exit, using one of Stark tech's pads to disable Y/N from the mission, but the brunette didn't stay there. Y/N followed after her, pissed off.

ㅤㅤ No one could go over Romanoff's orders, if she didn't authorize it, Y/N wouldn't go.

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“You can't do that. I need it!” y/n begged, swallowing the bitterness in her throat. “Natasha, look at me. You coward! Look me in the face!”

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Natasha tried not to show her feelings, and it was getting harder and harder. Y/N steps forward to look at the redhead but the redhead doesn't even look at her eyes at all.

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“You can step on me and treat me like shit, but inside I know very well that one day you will realize what you are doing… and it will be too late. You'll regret it.” Y/N said from the depths of her being, knowing that it was anger and bitterness that spoke.

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“I already did, my love.” Nat whispered, closing her eyes, quickening her pace to get to the Hangar.

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Y/N stayed behind, looking more broken than ever. The last thing Natasha heard was: “You can't take everything from me!”

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Once Natasha realized that Y/N was no longer around, she allowed herself to lean behind one of the quinjets and shed a few tears. The spy pressed her lips together and closed her eyes trying to calm down.

She kept hugging herself for a moment until some footsteps made her jump, ready to attack.

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“Hey, it’s me.” Clint came out of hiding carrying the scepter. “Did you see her?”

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Nat said nothing, just wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her suit.

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“You did it.” The archer narrowed his eyes, knowing that woman perfectly. “You told her not to do it, right? You told her not to go.”

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“I pulled her off the mission.” Nat pouted a little. “She's not physically or mentally ready to go, and Steve will never let her go if he sees what I wrote.”

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Clint just sighed deeply. “You're a bit of a bitch. Now you broke her heart a bit more.”

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“But at least she'll be alive. I can't go back and make everything between us didn’t happen.” Natasha sniffled. “But I can change one thing... I know I can't stop her from hating me, but I can stop her from dying. And you know if you were me, you would too.”

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Shaking his head, Clint looked around.

Nat was right, right now he was risking everything to bring his family back. Could understand Natasha perfectly.

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“I know.” The archer looked at her worriedly and then nodded. “And if it doesn't work? What if she dies days later? Or weeks or months later?”

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“At least I have tried.” She said with her shaky voice, lips quivering for a moment.

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And although he had known Natasha for a long time, Clint would never have thought that he would see her that way. She was a badass, and cold sometimes but also a very sweet and kind woman, perhaps because Clint never thought he would see Natasha Romanoff in love.

Clint came over to hug her for a moment.

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Smiling slightly, he said: “Whatever it takes.”

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After a few minutes, everything was ready, they disappeared. Finally coming back to the present.

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Finally they managed to bring back everyone, Bruce was injured but slowly he began to recover.

Natasha walked through the Compound, smiling and seeing how everyone was reunited with coworkers, friends and loved ones.

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The redhead shed a few happy tears when Yelena's call came within minutes of Bruce making the snap. Natasha took some time to explain, but she was much calmer knowing that the blonde would soon arrive in the quinjet to the Compound. She posed in front of the huge window, feeling an enormous peace after the chaos.

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In the distance, a brunette approached her to melt into a strong hug. Wanda shed a few tears, happy to see Nat again and of course sad. One of her best friends, Vision, died and it was too recent for her.

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“Thank you.” Wanda sighed and dried her tears. “Thanks for all you did.”

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“You don't have to thank. You are family.” Natasha squeezed her shoulder and then hesitated whether to tell her. “I need to tell you something. Something I did...”

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The Black Widow just turned to look out the window. Didn't know what kind of consequences would bring, or if there wouldn't be any, but she had to share it.

Nat took some time to explain everything they had done. Going back to the past, stealing the stones and especially, the part where she altered that day in Y/N’s life.

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How she broke her heart once more, just to save Y/N’s life.

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“Are you sure about this?” Wanda asked when she noticed the concern in the widow’s eyes. Of course, if it was the other way around, Wanda would have done exactly the same thing, maybe worse.

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“I tried to warn her. That day.” Natasha watched as one of the quinjets landed in the hangar. The same hangar where she last saw Y/N.

Dead in her arms, and then, alive. “She was so sad, it was the day before the mission.”

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Natasha looked down, her heart aching just remembering it. “What if I made it worse?”

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Wanda sighed, remembering Y/N and everything they had suffered because of her death. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could be worse than that.

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“F.R.I.D.A.Y., we need to know something...” The sokovian finally took courage, approaching one of the screens on the walls. Natasha frowned but followed her anyway. “Give us all the information you can find about Y/N Y/L/N, please.”

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Natasha closed her eyes, steeling herself for what was to come. Praying that whatever God was above would help her.

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“Of course, Ms. Maximoff.” F.R.I.D.A.Y took a moment to search for it and within seconds, they looked at the information on the screens.

They saw how many images of Y/N appeared on the screen, as an agent or from her past; Natasha couldn't help but sigh.

ㅤㅤ

Finally everything stopped showing the agent file.

ㅤㅤ Y/N Y/L/N. S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent CLEARANCE LEVEL: FIVE -Operations- STATUS: UNKNOWN.

ㅤㅤ

That made Natasha's heart skip a beat.

ㅤ

“Y/N Y/L/N. Born in…” the AI started revealing the personal information it could find in the reports, until it got to the most important part. “Currently living in Buenos Aires.”

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“It worked.” Natasha sighed in disbelief, now her eyes are filled with hope after so long. They both smiled and looked at each other happily. “It really worked.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

What to do? What to say?

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All those questions were driving her crazy. Wanda was too insistent that she should go see her, and despite the fact that Natasha wished with all her being to meet again with who she knew was the love of her life, she doubted.

She doubted even now, being right now in front of that wooden door, the house number was the one that F.R.I.D.A.Y indicated to them, everything was fine. But she wasn't okay, she wasn't being herself.

ㅤㅤ

Fuck, she wasn't the same since Y/N died.

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But the moment her finger pressed the doorbell, Natasha finally knew what fear was. As her anxiety devoured her slowly like a wild animal. When the door opened, Natasha Romanoff knew she was living again at last.

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“Hola.” That woman said in a cute spanish with a soft voice. Y/N didn't look surprised to see Nat there, especially with the chaos of ‘the blip’.

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“Hi.” Natasha gasped when she saw Y/N in front of her. Hearing her voice again was so... shocking. Natasha had to make herself strong not to cry.

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“Come in.” The brunette stepped aside.

The little house in that part of town was lovely, quite nice, that's what Nat thought as she looked around.

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Especially when she turned to see her, Y/N was alive. Being more beautiful than ever, had to admit that. The hair was longer, she clearly was no longer the same girl as before, besides that now she was years older.

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“What brings the Black Widow into my house?” Y/N walked towards the kitchen, noticing that the redhead was following her steps. “I have seen what you did, brought everyone back. That’s amazing.”

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Nat smiled a bit and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I didn't do it alone, we all did it.”

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“Oh, don't be so humble, Romanoff. You know you did it.” Y/N turned to look at her. “Tea or coffee?”

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“Coffee is fine.” The redhead looked at the place carefully, she could see some photographs but there didn't seem to be anyone else in her life. “So... What happened to your life all these years?”

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Y/N sighed deeply as she poured two steaming cups of coffee, handing one to Nat. In the background, on the Tv, the journalists showed that people went out to celebrate in the streets. Happy to be back.

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“I left S.H.I.E.L.D. years ago…” Y/N drank some coffee and stood in front of Nat, seeing how much she's changed. The blonde tips revealed everything she needed to know right now, now everything made more sense. “But you already know that, don't you?”

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“Y/N…” Natasha whispered.

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“I left S.H.I.E.L.D. because the mission in which I was supposed to be that day, here in Buenos Aires, two agents that I appreciated very much died.” Y/N set the cup aside. “Strange, isn't it?”

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Natasha didn't know what to say, Y/N always been so cunning and start. It wasn’t very difficult to understand.

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“Oh, but you don’t know that.” Y/N took a step forward with her arms crossed. “Because you traveled back in time and altered my life.”

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Even though Y/N looked quite serious, she didn't look very happy or very upset by what she was saying. "What happened there with me so that you changed everything?"

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But even so, Natasha never looked down this time. She didn’t regret what she did, in fact, the widow believed that she had made the best decision of her life, would do it again as many times as necessary.

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“I did what I had to do to save you.” The redhead narrowed her eyes and then drank some coffee.

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“You were so fucking irresponsible, Romanoff.” Y/N crossed her arms.

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“Oh, was I?” Nat scoffed.

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But after a moment of silence, they both smiled at each other knowingly. Like two old souls meeting again.

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Natasha licked her lips, curious. “But… How did you know?”

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“Oh, well... It seemed strange to me when I saw that you came back to the Compound later you had your red hair, no blonde tips and not that... tiny moon tattoo on your neck, behind your ear.” Y/N pointed to her neck. ㅤㅤ

Nat just raised an eyebrow and drank again, saving herself from having to answer.

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“You took too long.” Y/N walked into the living room, turning off the tv so she could put on some music.

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“I love you, Y/N.” The redhead said, making Y/N stop and turn to look at her really surprised. “I loved you, all these years without you... You have no idea what it means to lose you.”

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Nat's lips trembled once more at just remembering it. Because now, all those experiences, they only lived in her, in her memories and in her heart.

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“I saw your body, and I couldn't do anything but feel my heart tear apart as it beat.” She swallowed, the black widow wiped away a small tear that escaped. “You have no idea how much I suffered without you all these years.”

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Nat approached and cradled Y/N's face in her hands, who looked at the widow so moved. Oh, she was no longer cold, Y/N’s face was no longer cold. Tears filled Natasha’s eyes and she allowed herself to smile. She was no longer cold anymore.

ㅤㅤ “I love you, заяц.” The redhead said with a shaky hoarse voice. “I love you very very much.”

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Finally, Natasha kissed those warm lips, melting into the most awaited and needed kiss of their lives. Seven years without her, hurt like never before.

A kiss that began slowly, full of love and deep sadness, and ended as a passionate encounter.

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Y/N wrapped around the redhead's neck, making that kiss more passionate when Natasha hugged her hips too. A kiss that ended in a big hug and tears from both of them.

ㅤㅤ “я тебя люблю.” Nat whispered, resting her forehead against her beloved's once more. But a noise at the bedroom door made them both separate.

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“I'm sorry. I’m just-” Y/N sighed and pursed her lips. “I’m not alone. I- I didn't tell you, I share my life with someone else.”

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Frowning, somewhat hurt, Natasha turned away and looked towards the door. She was ready to fight for that woman, against whoever the fuck she was, Nat wasn't going to let Y/N go easily.

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“Oh.” She muttered when she saw that Y/N was approaching the door and shifted in her place, a bit nervous. “I didn’t know-”

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But when the door finally opened, an adorable and cunning black cat walked elegantly out of the room. The cat rubbed against Y/N's legs, using its best weapon of manipulation to get some food.

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“This is Luna.” Y/N smiled and walked towards the cupboard to take one of the cans of cat food and Luna's bowl. “Natasha, Luna. Luna, Natasha.”

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Feeling her soul coming back to her body, Nat just smiled and leaned in to slowly bring her hand closer to the cat. “She’s cute.”

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Luna narrowed her eyes and sniffed Nat’s hand before finally accepting her, rubbing against the widow’s legs. Adopting Natasha Romanoff as her own as well.

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Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N saw how silent fireworks lit up the sky in the distance, so she turned off the lights so that the place would be illuminated by them.

On the radio, you could hear one of your favorite songs.

ㅤㅤ

‘If I could turn the page... In time then I'd rearrange just a day or two.’

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“Do you want to eat Chinese?” Y/N smirked, taking a step forward to give a new start to both of their lives. “I don't feel like cooking and we have a lot to talk about.”

ㅤㅤ

‘...but I couldn't find a way, so I'll settle for one day to believe in you. Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies.’

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Natasha's eyes filled with tears one more time when she saw Y/N's face illuminated by those beautiful colors, red, purple, blue. Her kind smile, her gaze, her lips, her nose.

So full of life, so hers.

Thanks to whoever it is for this new opportunity.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yes, I would like that. I would like very much.” Nat finally smiled. “I love you.”

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So, you guys wanted a happy ending. And I tried to do my best to steal a smile from you. 🌼

Hope you liked it, even if you decided to stay with the 'sad' ending.

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#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

195 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 5 months

Text

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 49: Hurt

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Miscarriage

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

The feeling soon intensified and quickly morphed into a full-blown contraction.

You clutched your stomach, gasping for air as your muscles contracted, squeezing your insides mercilessly.

You tried to remain calm, reassuring yourself that it was probably nothing.

But as the seconds ticked by, the pain worsened, becoming sharper and more relentless.

"I'm fine," you murmured to yourself, attempting to muster some inner strength. But it was useless. The pain gripped you harder, refusing to loosen its iron grip until, after what felt like an eternity, you felt something wet and warm in between your legs and, when you checked, you saw that it was blood.

"No, please, no," you whispered quietly, fear gripping your heart as you desperately searched for your phone, dialing your best friend's number as fast as you could. She was probably at work and not far from the apartment at which she still lived since you moved in with Cillian.

The phone rang endlessly, a haunting melody echoing through the silent apartment before it finally connected.

"Em, I think something is wrong with the baby," you said frantically, fighting to catch your breath. "I'm bleeding, something is not right," you told her, feeling faint and dizzy.

"I need help," you whispered urgently.

"Shit," she cursed under her breath nervously, quickly assuring you that she was on her way and, with that, you could hear her hang up the phone and start running.

You let out a sigh of relief, clutching your hand over your tummy, wishing the pain would subside.

Minutes felt like hours as you paced around the living room, checking every few seconds to see if anyone was outside the building.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps approaching the apartment.

Panic surged through you as you raced to the bathroom to check on the bleeding and it was not long until you heard Emma's voice.

"Hello?" Em called out tentatively from the hallway, her voice wavering slightly. "Are you in there?" she asked, knocking lightly on the bathroom door. You swallowed hard, willing yourself to gather the courage to answer.

"Hey, I'm in here," you managed to say through gritted teeth, straining against the intense pain just before Emma barged inside.

"Oh my God, Y/N," she exclaimed, her eyes widening in shock as she caught sight of the bloody mess on the floor.

"I think I'm losing the baby," you moaned weakly, grasping her arm, clinging on for dear life.

"Okay, hey, we're going to get through this," Emma said soothingly, leading you to sit on the edge of the bathtub. "I am going to call an ambulance," she informed you, reaching for her smartphone, already tapping the screen to place the call. Her voice remained steady, but her hands were visibly shaking.

"Don't worry, babe, everything is going to be alright," she muttered, reassuringly patting your shoulder as she held the phone to her ear. "They're on their way," she said, sounding relieved as she returned the phone to her pocket.

"Here, let me clean you up," she suggested, handing you a towel before gingerly wiping the blood from your thighs.

"You might wanna lie down," she advised, helping you onto the cold tiles of the bathroom floor before covering you with a thick blanket. "Stay with me, Y/N," she coaxed, placing a supportive hand on your shoulder.

"I'm scared, Em," you whimpered, clutching at her jacket, seeking solace in her presence. "There shouldn't be so much blood," you added, swallowing hard, trying to suppress the rising panic.

"Shh," Emma soothed, wrapping her arms around you, holding you close. "You're safe," she murmured, kissing your forehead tenderly. "Everything will be fine," she repeated, offering false reassurance, her voice trembling slightly.

Neither of you knew how true those words were, though. Both of you were petrified. You stared at the crimson stains on the white tiles, fearing the worst.

Your heartbeat echoed loudly in your ears, drowning out the distant siren. The paramedics had arrived, and you were moments away from leaving the apartment. Your grip on Emma's sleeve tightened, and you fought the urge to scream. Everything felt too real, too terrifying to bear.

"It's okay, breathe," Emma whispered, her voice barely audible. "You're doing great."

"I can't do this again, Em. Why is my own body doing this to me?" you thought, fighting to maintain composure as hot tears streamed down your cheeks.

"Calm down, Y/N," Emma urged, her voice laced with authority that belied her shaken demeanor. "You're strong, remember?" Emma encouraged as she followed you into the ambulance and, eventually, the ambulance doors closed shut, cutting off the sounds of the bustling city street.

You felt like you were trapped in a nightmare, watching your life spiral out of control. The medical team worked tirelessly, monitoring your vitals and administering medication to stabilize your condition and, within less than 15 minutes, you arrived at the hospital.

You were rushed into emergency care, where teams of doctors and nurses hovered around you, scrutinizing monitors and discussing treatment plans. Emma stood nearby, watching the proceedings unfold with a quivering heart, while tears silently trickled down her cheeks.

"What's happening?" she mouthed to one of the nurses who advised her that, unfortunately, you were experiencing a miscarriage.

"Why is there so much blood though?" Emma asked the nurse, unable to contain her anxiety any longer.

"It's a natural part of the process. Sometimes a pregnancy loss can cause a hemorrhage and sometimes the miscarriage happens rather abruptly, causing heavier than usual blood loss," the nurse answered sympathetically while Emma watched on as tears streamed down your face.

"We will give her some pain killers and fluids intravenously and monitor her for now," the nurse said before walking away, leaving Emma alone with you.

Emma didn't know what to say to comfort you so she decided to keep quiet and just hold your hand instead.

You couldn't believe this was happening to you again and, whilst you never really wanted to be a mother in the first place, the idea of starting a family with Cillian had grown on you.

Now that you were faced with the prospect of never becoming a mother, you couldn't help but feel crushed.

"Hey," Emma finally said, leaning against the wall near your bed, her gaze fixated on the rhythmic pattern of the heart rate monitor. "Do you want me to call Cillian?" she asked hesitantly, sensing your reluctance to discuss the matter.

"No," you replied weakly. "There is nothing he can do for me, and he really needs to concentrate on these premieres right now."

She nodded understandingly, stroking your hair as you laid your head sideways on the pillow. "Maybe you're right," she conceded, though doubt lingered in her voice. "I guess it's better for you to tell him in person anyway," she consoled you.

"You know, he was actually quite excited about me being pregnant and now my body has failed me again," you sighed, shifting your arm under the blanket.

The drugs they gave you were working, dulling the physical pain but not the emotional torment.

"How can my body betray me like this?" you wondered aloud, staring blankly at the sterile ceiling above you.

"I don't know," Emma admitted, her voice heavy with sadness. "You've been through so much, Y/N. But you're stronger than you know."

"Yeah, maybe," you mumbled, gazing blankly at the stark white walls surrounding you. "I'll be fine," you assured her, forcing a weak smile before contemplating about how you would break this news to Cillian when he comes back home in a week's time.

"How am I going to tell him, Em?" you whispered, the words catching in your throat.

Emma squeezed your hand, her gaze softening. "I don't know Y/N, but no matter what, I'm sure he'll understand," she said gently. "Just remember, he loves you, no matter what," Emma squeezed your hand, her blue eyes sparkling with determination.

In the days that followed, Emma took you back home to Cillian's apartment after a 48-hour hospital stay and, as luck would have it, by this point, his son Max had left and went back to Cork, giving you some well needed peace and quiet.

Cillian himself was not due to arrive back home until Friday and, every time you spoke to him on the phone, you put on a brave voice and pretended that everything was fine.

While he was away, promoting his movie, you did not want him to worry about you. The last thing he needed was more stress, especially considering how exhausted he already was from dealing with the media hype and fan frenzy and, yet, every time he brought up your baby, you changed the topic, making him realize that something was not quite right.

Thus, calling his friend Dermont, he asked him to check on you, explaining that you seemed 'off' when he spoke to you the last two times and, being Cillian's best friend, Dermont was quick to offer his support.

Having picked up on the distress in his friend's voice, Dermont suggested for his wife Connie to pay you a visit and Connie wasted no time in driving over to Cillian's apartment.

As soon as she arrived, she knocked on the door, a little worried and, when you opened the door, she was met with your tearful expression.

"Hi, Y/N," she greeted you cautiously, taking note of your red, puffy eyes. "Are you okay?" she asked kindly, stepping inside the apartment.

She noticed that you were visibly shaken, and your face looked gaunt, almost hollow.

"I'm good," you lied easily, wiping the remaining tears from your face. "And you? How's everything?" You managed to crack a smile despite the pain twisting your insides.

"Well, I'm just passing by because, to tell you the truth, Cillian got worried about you," she explained, sitting at the kitchen counter across from you. "He mentioned to Dermont that you sounded a bit off on the phone," she offered gently, trying to gauge your reaction.

"Oh, he worries too much," you dismissed casually, avoiding his gaze. You could sense her skepticism, but your words fell flat.

"So, what's going on?" she pressed, his tone laced with concern. "You don't look so good, Y/N. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm just tired," you said dismissively but Connie did not buy it.

"Look, you don't have to hide anything from me, Y/N. If anything's bothering you, you can talk to me. I don't even have to tell the boys about it," she offered gently, her eyes meeting yours directly.

You sighed deeply, a wave of exhaustion washing over you. "It's just… I had a miscarriage," you blurted out, your voice breaking. "And I didn't tell Cillian yet. I mean, he deserves to know, but…" You trailed off, swallowing hard, struggling to find the words.

"Oh my god, Y/N. I did not know that you were pregnant," Connie replied, her voice full of compassion and sympathy.

"Well, obviously, the pregnancy wasn't planned and we were going to wait until the 12-week mark before breaking the news," you replied, trying to compose yourself as Connie reached across the countertop and placed her hand gently on top of yours.

"I am so sorry, Y/N," she sympathized, her voice soft yet comforting. "I didn't know things were that serious. I wish I could do something to ease your pain," she confessed sincerely. "If there's anything I can do, please let me know."

You appreciated her gesture, grateful for the empathy she extended to you at such a difficult moment.

"Thank you, Connie," you whispered, pulling your hand away from hers, resting them on your lap. "Just don't tell Dermont yet please. I need Cillian to focus on his work, not on me," you pleaded, your voice choking up with emotion. "I don't want him to worry," you sniffled, blinking back tears.

Connie nodded sympathetically, her gaze filled with warmth and understanding. "Of course, Y/N. I won't say a word," she assured you, patting your hand gently, understanding why you kept this news from him until he returned back home.

She didn't blame you. You knew Cillian well enough, and you both shared a unique bond that made you a perfect match for each other. She admired the lengths you'd go to protect him, knowing that you would rather endure the pain alone than burden him with your troubles.

"Thanks, Connie," you breathed out, your eyes brimming with gratitude. "I've through this twice now, and I just can't bear it anymore."

"Y/N," Connie started, her voice gentle yet stern. "This isn't your fault. There's nothing you could have done differently. It's nobody's fault. These things happen sometimes without explanation."

You shook your head, your eyes welling up with tears. "I just feel so worthless," you cried, burying your face in your hands. "Like my body is broken. I can't help but wonder if it's karma or punishment for not wanting to be a mother in the first place."

Connie sighed heavily, her heart aching for you. "Y/N, please don't ever think that way. None of this is your fault. Things like this happen, and it doesn't mean you're not meant to be a mother someday. You're strong, and you'll overcome this."

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

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oopsiedaisiesbaby · 5 months

Text

This is my contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race ✨

You’re Bleeding But You Want More

Fight during basketball practice to hate sex in the locker room fic

CW: fighting, some homophobic and sexist language, face slapping, degradation, barebacking, spit as lube

Read on AO3

“Plant your feet asshole,” Tommy hissed as he ran past Steve.

Groaning at his still rattling bones, Steve allowed himself a moment to linger on the court floor. He winced as he heard cheering from the other side of the court.

Billy had scored again.

“Harrington, get off your ass,” Coach barked, as everyone started setting up for the next play.

Sighing, Steve gingerly picked himself up off the court floor. He limped over to where he was supposed to be, sucking in a sharp breath at the throbbing pain in his back and elbows.

He tried to ignore Billy’s manic grin, his stupid tongue hanging out of his mouth, the way his sharp eyes followed Steve like a predator.

He was such a dick.

“Awww, poor little Harrington,” Billy drawled, smirking. “Can’t keep a girl or the ball.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve decided to take Nancy and Jonathan’s advice and ignore him. He couldn’t afford to get kicked out of practice again for trading barbs with someone as stupid as Billy Hargrove. They were both dangerously close to losing their starting positions if they kept it up according to Coach.

Steve didn’t need to give his dad another reason to call him a disappointment.

Steve’s team gained possession of the ball from the tip off and he found himself being immediately smothered by a warm weight against his back. Hot panting breath was hitting the back of his neck, making his skin crawl. Pushing back against the weight with his body, Steve knew it was Billy when the solid wall of muscle didn’t budge.

Losing his patience before Billy could even open his mouth, Steve threw back an elbow and delighted in the sharp exhale it earned him. He broke away and sprinted down the court, trying to get open for Tommy to pass him the ball.

Before Steve could call out to Tommy, he felt something solid bump into his shoulder and send him flying to the ground. He barely had time to throw out his hands and catch himself. Without even looking, he knew it was Billy.

Steve reached out a hand and wrapped it around the nearest ankle, tugging hard until he saw Billy crash to the floor next to him.

“You little bitch,” Billy hissed dangerously.

In the blink of an eye, Billy was scrambling on top of him and throwing a wild fist at Steve’s face. Steve’s ears rang as his the fist slammed into his cheek, knocking his head back against the court.

“Fuck you, Hargrove,” Steve spat.

He twisted his torso desperately until he’d rolled them over and was able to land a solid punch to Billy’s jaw. Billy growled up at him as Steve reared back to throw another hit.

“Why are you so fucking obsessed with me?” Steve asked through gritted teeth.

Steve grunted as strong fingers yanked his head away by his hair and he suddenly found himself beneath Billy again.

“You waste too much fucking space,” Billy snapped.

His stomach dropped as Billy cocked his fist back for another punch.

Before Billy could land what would’ve probably been a knockout blow, Steve found himself being pulled away. Feet kicking, he watched as Billy was hauled away in the opposite direction. Both of them were still spitting curses at each other.

“Enough!” Coach barked. “Are you idiots done?”

Steve huffed and shoved the teammates that had been holding him back away, straightening his clothes out. He eyed Billy warily as he did the same.

“Now,” Coach started, glaring at them both, face red. “This is the last time you 2 dumbasses interrupt my practice with your bullshit or I’m benching you for 3 games.”

Steve opened his mouth to protest but stayed silent at his coach’s icy stare.

“Now go clean up in the locker room, I don’t want you assholes back on this court until tomorrow and so help me God, you better leave that shit at the door.”

“Yes, sir,” Billy and Steve mumbled in unison, glaring at each other.

Coach blew his whistle and Steve found himself stomping off towards the locker room, side by side with Billy fucking Hargrove.

He grumbled as he felt Billy bump his shoulder.

“Fuck you, pretty boy,” Billy hissed under his breath.

“This is all your fault, douchebag,” Steve snapped back quietly so that Coach couldn’t hear.

“My fault?” Billy scoffed, elbowing Steve discretely when he dropped his shoulder and subtly rammed into Billy’s arm. “You’re the asshole that can’t play for shit.”

“You only score because you foul constantly,” Steve insisted, through his teeth, elbowing Billy back.

They scrambled as they reached the locker room door to see who could shove their way in first. Billy slapped Steve in the nuts causing him to hunch over and concede the win to Billy.

“I don’t foul, you’re just a little bitch,” Billy smirked triumphantly as he swaggered into the locker room ahead of Steve.

What a piece of shit.

Steve didn’t even think before he was shoving Billy into the lockers from behind. He barely had time to catch his breath before Billy was grabbing him by the shirt and spinning them so that Steve was pinned against the lockers.

Their punches were even wilder than on the court. Knuckles were glancing off of cheeks, but still somehow landing world-stoppingly hard before they were back at it again. Hands scrambled meanly against chests and faces as they tried to push the other away. Steve fought as hard as he could, but he couldn’t get his back off of the locker.

Billy had him completely pinned.

He knew it was over when rather than throw another punch, Billy wrapped his hand around Steve’s throat. Steve gasped for air, nails scratching ineffectively at Billy’s hand. Billy just smirked and leaned his body weight into the hold, their fronts brushing together. Steve couldn’t help the way he went limp and collapsed against Billy as the edges of his vision started to darken.

It was at that moment that Steve realized they were both hard.

He watched Billy’s bright blue eyes widen in shock, his grip around Steve’s throat loosening just enough that Steve could push him away. They stared each other down, only about a foot of space between them, their chests heaving with exertion.

Billy reached a hand out towards Steve and he quickly slapped it away.

What the actual fuck was going on here?

Steve felt like he was losing his mind. He was definitely going to snap and do something stupid if Billy touched him again.

He thought he might lose it if Billy didn’t though.

Billy reached a hand out lightning quick and slapped Steve. His cheek burned as he gasped in shock, eyes round as he stared at Billy in shock and Billy simply stared back at him, mouth open as he took Steve in. His burning blue eyes held a question and while Steve didn’t know what that question was, he found himself nodding.

His body thrummed with static electricity as Billy nodded back.

Steve yanked his shirt over his head, stepping out of his sneakers as he watched Billy yank his own shorts down. The moment Steve’s shorts and briefs hit the floor, he found himself being spun around until his forehead and hands were pressed to the lockers.

He panted open mouthed against the cool metal, groaning as Billy kicked his feet apart. Steve’s socks slid against the concrete floors as he scrambled to comply.

Moaning as sweat salty fingers were shoved into his mouth, Steve sucked on the intruding digits instinctively. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as Billy’s warm breath puffed out hot and wet against the nape of his neck.

“Knew you’d be a whore,” Billy sneered meanly, fingers locking bruisingly tight around Steve’s hip when he bit down on Billy’s fingers. “That’s all you get!”

Steve gasped as the fingers were yanked out of his mouth and he felt them nudging up against his rim. He whimpered, scrabbling against the locker as he tried to get away. Billy held him in place as he sank a finger inside of Steve, hissing at him to stay still.

“Hargrove,” Steve warned, his voice cutting out as a second finger wriggled its way inside of him, curling pleasantly.

Steve had never had anything up his ass in his life because to him, that seemed gay as hell. At that moment, he couldn’t remember why it was a bad thing to seem gay.

There was something about being full of Billy’s thick, callused fingers that felt so unbelievably good. Steve was wholly unprepared for just how good it felt when a third finger was shoved unceremoniously inside of him. He hid his groan in the crook of his arm as Billy curled his fingers inside of him pleasantly.

All too soon, Billy was yanking his fingers out and Steve heard a gross, wet spitting sound behind him. His ears burned as he realized the next wet noise was Billy slicking his dick up with his own spit.

Steve was about to get fucked.

He honestly didn’t feel as ashamed as he figured he should about it.

The loud, high, needy moan Steve let out as Billy started to push inside of him was absolutely obscene. He couldn’t bring himself to care because Billy was groaning into the back of his neck, just as wantonly.

Before Steve got a chance to catch his bearings, Billy was pulling his mouth away from the back of his neck and shoving in just a little further. They both hissed as Billy bottomed out. The brief pause as Billy’s hips connected with his ass had Steve feeling like time was frozen around him.

Suddenly Billy was pulling his hips back and snapping them back in rough and quick. Steve whined, his hands balling into fists as Billy fucked into him relentlessly. The fullness of Billy’s cock inside of him was insane and Steve was losing his mind as Billy thrust into him over and over.

If this was how it felt for girls, Steve didn’t understand why they weren’t all bigger sluts. His dick had never been so hard, he was already dripping precum, and he was practically vibrating out of his skin.

“Harder you pussy,” Steve demanded, nails clawing at the metal of the locker as Billy complied.

“Hard enough for you, slut?” Billy grunted, snapping his hips rough and quick.

Steve banged a fist against the locker as Billy’s maddening thrusts set his blood tingling with arousal. Every thrust was electric but brushed just shy of something. Steve didn’t know what it was but he knew he wanted it.

“Knew you had to be overcompensating for something,” Steve gasped as Billy’s next thrust came dangerously close to that something.

“Sure are mouthy for someone moaning like a lil bitch,” Billy panted, his fingers tightening around Steve’s hips.

“Then give it to me and shut me up,” Steve challenged, his forehead slipping down the locker with sweat, changing the angle of Billy’s thrusts slightly.

He let out an involuntary sob as the head of Billy’s dick suddenly brushed up against something inside of him that made him feel like he was being electrocuted.

“Oh God,” Steve whimpered, pressing his flushed sweaty cheek to the cold locker for relief.

Billy groaned behind him and picked up the pace even more, nailing that spot every few thrusts, but brushing along it with every single snap of his hips. It was like nothing Steve had ever felt before.

He couldn’t take it much longer. His skin felt itchy and tingly. Arousal was crackling loud and staticy in his belly with his rapidly approaching orgasm. Each time Billy sank in and nailed that spot, electricity jolted up his spine and fried his brain.

“Take it, you fucking slut,” Billy growled, his breath hot in Steve’s ear.

Steve threw back an elbow, nailing Billy in the ribs. He heard a grunt behind him before fingers were tangling with his own and shoving his hand against the locker above his head.

Moaning, Steve reached back to bury his hand in Billy’s curls and held his searing, sinful mouth against his neck. Billy groaned and bit into the sensitive skin causing Steve to hiss and screw up tight around him.

Billy let out a strained gasp, his hips stuttering as his fingers tightened around Steve’s hip.

“That all you got?” Steve snarked, rolling his hips back into Billy’s harsh thrusts.

“Shut the fuck up,” Billy grunted, releasing Steve’s hip to land a resounding smack against Steve’s ass.

Steve whimpered as Billy’s thrusts got even rougher. Billy panted into Steve’s neck, smacking Steve’s ass again.

Keening, Steve tried to bury his forehead into the unforgiving metal of the locker and squeezed his fingers around Billy’s. He was leaking all over his abs, probably dripping onto the floor at that point.

Steve didn’t give a fuck.

“No wonder you can’t get a second date,” Steve groaned into the locker, shivering at the static buzzing all over his skin. “Can’t fuck for shit.”

All too quickly, Steve found himself empty and cold as Billy pulled away from him. Whining, Steve reached back trying to find purchase in Billy’s curls again. He found himself suddenly spun around and shoved up against the lockers.

He gasped as Billy grabbed him by the back of the thighs and lifted. Steve scrambled to wrap his arms and legs around Billy to avoid getting dropped. His fear was short lived as Billy fucked back into him and nailed his prostate even harder than before.

Eyes rolling back in his head, Steve slammed his head back against the lockers with a shrill moan.

“This what you wanted, slut?” Billy demanded as he fucked into Steve hard and fast, shoving up against Steve’s prostate relentlessly.

He could practically feel Billy in his throat at this angle with how deep he was.

Steve must’ve been silent for too long because his cheek was suddenly stinging as Billy slapped him roughly.

“Yes,” Steve whined, clenching around Billy reflexively.

“Fuck,” Billy gasped, tightening his grip on Steve’s thigh and fucking into him impossibly harder.

Whimpering as Billy slapped him again, Steve felt his brain going fuzzy from how overwhelmingly good it all felt.

“Harder,” Steve breathed, his nails raking across Billy’s upper back.

Billy whined and smacked Steve’s cheek even harder. He let his fingers linger on Steve’s warm cheek, digging his fingers into the tender skin.

Steve’s throat clicked as he tried to swallow and groan at the same time. He turned his face just enough to suck Billy’s thumb into his mouth, groaning around the salty taste.

He only got a few harsh sucks in before Billy was pulling his jaw down and staring hungrily at Steve’s mouth.

“Stick your tongue out,” Billy ordered breathlessly, the rhythm of his hips never faltering.

Steve bit the tip of Billy’s thumb petulantly, groaning at the slap it earned him. He obediently opened his mouth on his own, letting his tongue fall past his bottom lip.

Lightning bolted violently up Steve’s spine and through his fingertips and toes as Billy spit into his mouth. With a gutteral sob, Steve came all over their stomachs and chests.

His hole fluttered wildly around Billy’s cock as he watched fiery blue eyes widen, locked in on Steve’s mouth as he swallowed Billy’s spit. Eyebrows furrowing and face turning red, Billy let out a concerning choking noise as he shuddered against Steve.

Steve gasped as he felt a peculiar warmth fill him, his body still tingling as he came down from his intense orgasm. Steve shivered as Billy buried his face in Steve’s neck and finally drew in a noisy breath.

It took Steve a moment to realize that the desperate little whines filling the locker room were coming from his own mouth. Punctuating each anguished gasp of air he tried to suck down.

Tightening his legs around Billy’s waist, Steve relaxed his fingers where they were still digging into Billy’s back. With a sigh, Billy pulled back to look at Steve, his eyes and mouth pinched with something that Steve couldn’t name.

Dopey with his very recent mind blowing orgasm, Steve leaned forward to try and kiss away the weird look on Billy’s face. His stomach whooshed unpleasantly as he found himself suddenly falling, his lips grazing Billy’s neck on the way down.

“Queer,” Billy grunted as he pulled away, leaving Steve to stumble as his feet suddenly hit the floor.

Steve burned with humiliation as he collapsed against the lockers. He watched Billy swagger over to the showers, wild scratches littering his upper back.

Fuck him.

Steve stomped over to the showers on weak legs and slapped on the shower head across from Billy. He turned around, putting his back to Billy so that he didn’t have to look at his stupid face.

He didn’t understand what the fuck had just happened. Steve vowed to shower quickly and get the hell out of there as fast as he could.

Maybe he could go home and drink himself into oblivion. Maybe it would help forget that he’d just had the best orgasm of his life with another dude. With another dude slapping him and calling him a slut.

Just as he started to shampoo his hair, he heard a sharp inhale behind him. Steve whipped around to see what had Billy making that noise.

When he turned, he saw Billy’s gaze dropped to his thighs. His thighs that had cum slowly dripping down them, now that he paid attention it.

Billy’s gaze was hot enough to have arousal tingling low in Steve’s belly again. He turned back around to rinse the shampoo out of his hair, trying to ignore the douche bag behind him. His face flushed as he reached behind himself to rinse out the rest of the cum.

Steve gasped as he felt his wrist suddenly locked in a bruising grip. He looked over his shoulder to see Billy looming behind him, fiery blue eyes intent on Steve’s ass.

“Fuck off,” Steve hissed, trying to yank his wrist out of Billy’s tight grasp.

“I’m gonna give you three seconds to get your hands on that wall with your ass out,” Billy informed him, his voice low and dangerous.

Steve stumbled forward as his wrist was released, hands planting against the shower wall. Before he could even think about what was happening, Billy was on his knees behind him, face buried in Steve’s ass.

Groaning, Steve rolled his hips back against Billy’s face as he felt a hot, wet tongue bury itself inside of him. He couldn’t even find it in himself to feel embarrassed when he let out a wanton moan as his next words earned him a harsh smack agaisnt his ass.

“Who’s the queer now?”

Please look forward to the beyond spectacular work from the next contributor, @writer-in-theory.

#harringrove relay race #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #oopsiewrites #steve x billy #harringrovefic #harringrovefanfic #harringrove fanfiction #harringrove fanfic #stranger things

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luneengene2 · 4 months

Note

Would you do a part two of &team’s hyung line accidentally hurting you during an argument? Like the aftermath of it? I’m really curious and I really liked it!

&Team Hyung Line : Accidentally Hurt/Injure (Verbally or Physically) You During an Argument || Atmosphere Cooling

• Warnings : having sex at the ending in EJ's part, ANGST content, Contains grammatical errors

• Previous Part is Here.

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• EJ

After a painful argument with EJ and you crying in his chest for a long time, you fell asleep in his arms because you were tired of crying for more than an hour.

When he saw you sleeping on his chest, EJ closed his eyes and bit his lip quite hard, as if to suppress the excruciating pain. He also felt the pain of having said hurtful words to you without realizing it.

EJ carried you to his room, placing you gently on his bed. He took off your clothes to change into his pajamas. Don't forget, he put socks on you so you don't get cold. He also covers you slowly. After handling you, EJ kissed your forehead for a long time then joined you on the bed. Slowly holding you tightly, trying not to wake you.

~The next morning~

EJ woke up to the sound of his alarm, when he turned off the alarm, he didn't find you in his bed. He hurriedly got out of bed and came out of his room to see and hope you didn't go home.

Just coming down the stairs of his house, he saw you pouring orange juice and boxed milk on the table. The tempting aroma of toast also smelled warm. EJ was relieved when he thought you weren't coming home.

EJ walked over to you towards the dining table. When you saw EJ, you were still nervous because of the unpleasant incident last night. "I'm sorry for touching your kitchen, EJ. I just don't want to be a burden guest in your house, therefore, I took the initiative to make you breakfast, even though it's simple," Seeing that you were still nervous about him, EJ smiled bitterly and thought he was that bad last night. ""I wouldn't be angry if you also burned down my kitchen," EJ said jokingly while gently stroking your hair. Even though EJ looks fine, you still feel guilty for him. "I'm sorry about what happened last night, EJ. I should have understood, but I was being childish," EJ actually responded to your apology with a long kiss on your lips. Making you quite tense. After giving you a kiss EJ smiled slightly. "You don't need to apologize, I learned that you always want attention from me, and I don't mind that. I should be the one apologizing for hurting you and feeling superior," EJ kissed you again gently, this time you also kissed him back.

The kiss turns into a hot make-out session, and over time the two of you feel passionate. And it leads to hot sex in the kitchen when EJ corners you near the counter.

• FUMA

Fuma grimaced in pain as you cleaned the blood from his torn lip. Meanwhile, you cried while you were treating him. Your blind blow made you lose control of course and ended up hitting Fuma's lips as hard as possible with the Nintendo that you were holding.

The blow resulted in his lip being torn and bleeding quite a lot, maybe he was hit by a rather sharp part on this Nintendo, what's more, your punch was really that strong.

"Sorry sorry sorry and sorry, Fuma! I'm sorry, I was mean to you," You were sobbing and your hands were shaking quite a lot while treating him. Seeing you cry like that, Fuma felt even more guilty and hurt. "Honey, no need to apologize. I'm okay, I should be the one apologizing. I was the one who hurt you earlier, you were also hurt because of my actions," Fuma said softly, but you still felt very guilty. "No, I shouldn't have hurt you until you bled, Fuma. I hurt you," Fuma smiled bitterly because you were really blaming yourself, even though you were just fighting back. Fuma sighed, he slowly held your left arm which was sprained by him earlier. "This is what I did, right? I hurt you too, what you did earlier was just fighting back. Even if you push me until I get hurt in other areas, it doesn't matter, darling," Fuma said softly, you who also looked weak immediately fell into his arms. You cried quite hysterically into his chest.

Fuma closed his eyes because this was the first time you could cry this hard, and the first person to do that to you was your own boyfriend, himself.

Don't forget, Fuma also treats your left arm. He even took you to a therapy doctor to make sure your hands were fine.

• KEI (K)

You were treated for several days at the Hybe health clinic. And the one who is almost 100% looking after you there is Kei, your parents can't always be in the Hybe building. So, they entrusted you to Kei.

"Tomorrow I will ask for a letter of resignation as a trainee," Kei, who was cutting fruit for you, immediately looked at you. He sighed. "Y/N, are you still thinking about what I said, darling? You hate me so much that you don't want to continue your dream?" Hearing Kei's question, you shook your head. "I just don't want to throw myself into a place that isn't really for my success. You're right, I would only embarrass those closest to me if I still persisted," Kei felt very insulted when you said that. He was the first to say that he was embarrassed that you were his girlfriend who might fail to debut. "I never hated you either, Kei. I think stopping chasing my dream of becoming an idol was the right decision. I also don't want to waste another opportunity," You said that with a faint smile.

Deep inside your heart, you still want to achieve your dream. But if you are really persistent and reckless, it can cause harm to those around you. "Even though I won't be a trainee anymore, I will live a normal life and still support you, Kei. Supporting you as a successful idol, one day if our relationship is made public, I will show you that I am proud of you. Vice versa, I hope it's like that," Your words immediately made Kei sob softly. He felt very guilty because he had made you back away from your dream. Even though you were also hurt by him, you still supported him with your love. Even your hope that you can make him proud is enough to make his heart ache. Your dreams stop because of it.

• NICHOLAS

You sat Nicholas on the sofa at his house after the two of you had just arrived from the hospital. You were the one who initially hit Nicholas, resulting in an almost fatal incident. It was all because of your increasingly explosive emotions. You pushed Nicholas as hard as you could until he hit the wall and his head was bleeding. Of course it required hospital treatment, his head was immediately bandaged and thankfully it was not fatal.

"I'll get you some water," you said fearfully to him, but before you could actually leave, Nicholas grabbed your hand, and you fell in his lap. When he fell in his lap, Nicholas' eyes were very sad and full of regret. He caressed your cheek. "You're very hurt, but why are you paying more attention to my wound, Angel?" Nicholas said hoarsely, he was really hurt and angry at himself for slapping you. "I hurt you more than that, Nicholas. Your head was injured because of me, I should have been handed over to the authorit—"

"SHHH!—" Nicholas immediately cut you off because you said that. "What are you saying?! You will always be with me here, no one can do that. Including me," Instead of answering Nicholas' question, you hugged him tightly, sobbing into his shoulder. Saying sorry words that made him even more hurt. If only he hadn't slapped you, you wouldn't be in this pain, you even blamed yourself.

#&team smut #&team #&team imagines #&team hard thoughts #&team fuma #&team k #&team ej #&team nicholas #&team angst #&team x reader

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