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delfiore · 9 months

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—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (3/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: without ona, you find other ways to fill the hole in your heart, as the consequences of your own actions come back to haunt you.

word count: 7.0k

a/n: holy shit is this one long. some more cameos for the plot who are all good bros to our dumbasses in love 👍

PART I, PART II, PART IV, PART V

2018, 5 years ago.

You always hated it when your hands shake after adrenaline rushes. It felt debilitating, like you weren’t able to make rational decisions because all you could think about was trying to hide your trembling hands.

When your coach called you into his office, you were still cradling your right hand, the other pressing an ice pack to the bruise starting to form on your right knuckles. The way he pointed with his head for you to follow him—doing so without a word—reaffirmed that you were definitely in trouble.

It was a warm day in May, and yet you had two training sessions to complete. You were drenched in sweat afterwards, your body warm and buzzing like a furnace. Definitely not a good day to be pissed off.

Coach Dennis sat in his chair behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him. His lips were curling and jutting out like they always did whenever he was concentrating or trying to look angry. It made him look like a fish.

A silence followed, and then he spoke. “Are you aware of what you did?”

You clenched your jaw to stop yourself from blurting out something sarcastic. “I punched a teammate, Coach.”

“You’re aware that that could get you released, don’t you, Y/N?” He asked. “NYCFC has zero tolerance for violence within the first team, much less the youth academy.”

You lowered your head. Your hands were shaking much less now.

“May I ask why you did it?” Coach pressed further when he didn’t receive an answer.

So you told him. There was a group of girls that had been picking on you for years now. You were never the biggest or strongest, so you used your techniques to weave the ball through defenders, to make you stand out, and it pissed them off.

“So you punched one of them.”

“They were cornering me.” You said simply, looking up at him for the first time since the meeting started.

The man sighed and covered his nose and mouth with his palms. You might have reduced his lifespan by a decade right then.

“Y/N, I know you. I know you will stand up for yourself, and I expect nothing less from you, but this kind of behavior will not and cannot fly here. That’s why I’m telling you this, because I know you’ll be special one day.”

“Those girls are bullies, Coach. They don’t deserve to be here. You should be punishing them!”

“They will get their punishment in due time, but you still punched a teammate,” he said firmly. “You did what you thought was right, but violence is never the answer. You can’t punch your way out of everything.”

“Are you kicking me out?” You asked, trying to remain stoic, yet you were fiddling with your fingers.

“No. I’m blocking your Dallas offer.”

FC Dallas had been one of the top scouts that have had their eyes on you, and you had been working extra hard to impress them. This was your chance to break into their first team, and it was gone.

“You can’t do that!”

“Yes, I can.” He pressed.

“Coach, please—”

“Thank you, Y/N.” He cut you off. “You may leave.”

Leaving Dennis’ office, and walking down the hallway, your eyes caught Sara—the girl you punched—sitting in the infirmary, her face tear-stained, red, and blotchy. She had always looked at you with disdain, but now there was a fear in her gaze as she caught yours from far away. When she did, you got a better look at the damage you’d done to her face. You suddenly felt that shame you should have felt back in the office.

“Yo, Y/N,” you heard someone call when you were outside. “I heard about what happened.”

“You’re gonna lecture me, Gio? ‘Cause Dennis already did.”

“No, man. I was gonna say how badass that was,” he grinned.

A slow grin spread on your face. You shook your head, as Gio put his arm around your shoulder and you walked to the cafeteria.

You met Giovanni Reyna a few years ago when you first joined the academy. In a training session where both the boys and girls participated, you were paired with him for finishing drills. With a hard tackle, he’d almost put you in the hospital. Ever since then, you had been stuck to the hip. He was the first friend you made and the longest friend you’d ever had.

You’d stay another year at NYCFC, honing your skills, and avoiding another run-in with your bullies until the transfer window was near. You were still waiting for FC Dallas to call back, as you had for a year now. It was the only place you wanted, and while you knew it was risky to do so, it was your gateway to Europe through their partnership with Bayern Munich.

“Sara is going to the Red Stars, did you hear?”

“Dylan’s going to Orlando Pride.”

“I heard Hope and Mary-Anne are going to Roma and Lyon!”

You had tried to block out the gossip in the cafeteria, but it made you doubt yourself. What did they have that you didn’t? Yes, you weren’t the tallest or strongest, but neither were Messi, Xavi, or Aguëro. But maybe that was just it; you were not Messi, Xavi, or Aguëro, and you would never be.

Gio was leaving too, there had never been any doubt about that; his dad was a U.S. legend, and it was only natural that he’d give the best to his son. Besides, Gio might have been the next best thing after Christian Pulisic skyrocketed to fame within the past few years. The boy’s move to Borussia Dortmund was almost imminent, and people had been whispering about it for weeks, but you were the one he told first.

“When do you leave?” You asked, picking at the food on your tray. Gio and you were sitting outside having lunch.

“Beginning of June,” he said.

“I’m happy for you,” you muttered, voice cracking quietly, but a small smile remained on your face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t be sorry. This is a good thing,” you smiled, nodding as you grabbed his hand over the table. “I’ll just miss you a ton.”

“Hey,” Gio searched for your eyes. “I have no doubt that you’ll be scouted soon. I know it. I know you have what it takes to be at the top, whether it’s in Europe, or here.”

Your best friend left less than a month later. You had wrapped your arms around him so tightly and hid your face in his neck, afraid you might bawl like a baby the last time you saw him on the training ground. But you didn’t cry then.

You did cry, though, when Coach Dennis called you into his office again a week later. This time, instead of expressing his disappointment in you, he hugged you tight, congratulated you, and let you read the email that Portland Thorns FC sent to request a transfer for you to their first team.

2023, present.

“You ever thought about what you’d be doing if you weren’t playing football?”

You had just drifted off a bit when the voice next to you spoke. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wondered how she wasn’t absolutely battered.

“Don’t know. Never had a plan B. Didn’t want to.”

“Right. But I feel like, I go to training, I kick the ball, people come and watch me, and then when I go home after, I don’t know who I am. It’s like . . . I’m nothing without the footballer.”

You didn’t expect your hookup to be opening up to you like this. You’d only just met her a few hours ago at a club. You had played against her a few times in the league but had never spoken to her face-to-face. Though not the best on the dance floor, she made an excellent dance partner in bed.

“Well, having a personality is overrated nowadays anyway.” You replied, closing your eyes again. “Nobody cares who you are until you fuck up on the pitch, so just don’t fuck up on the pitch.”

“Easy for you to say,” she huffed. “You have your starter place at City guaranteed.”

You ignored her and turned to the other side. A few minutes later, you heard the sheets shuffling, then the sound of a zipper. “This was fun,” she whispered before you heard your bedroom door opening and closing.

No barks, it meant Bratwurst was asleep, luckily for your ears. Most people you had been bringing home he had been barking at. You wanted to think it was him being protective over you, but he would bark at your teammates too when they would come over, except for one person.

Ever since you came back from the World Cup much earlier than you had anticipated, you liked to find company at clubs and parties. In your time of need, you’d found that you preferred sporadic ones, fewer complications, and headaches.

You were also invited to events; award shows, the British Grand Prix, and a few fashion shows. Those you never really bothered with, but they were chances for your stylist to go crazy with the outfits (which you never complained).

The only good thing to come out of those, however, was seeing Gio again at Paris Fashion Week. The moment you saw him, you gladly accepted it when he brought you into a tight hug, feeling like that 13-year-old again when you first met. You kept in touch over the years, but your schedules were always too different to ever meet up. But it was as if no time had passed, and the only thing that kept you both from talking till morning was that Gio needed rest for his rehabilitation training the next day.

“I’m going on a trip to Ibiza soon with a few friends. You should come,” he said.

“I don’t know, G. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t. I want you to come. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Just because you have a girlfriend now doesn't mean you’re allowed to set me up,” you smirked and shoved him.

“I’ve seen the stuff that came out about you, Y/N,” he sighed. “Is it true?”

“I’m not doing anything illegal if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s not what I meant. About you being seen at clubs day in and day out. What is this really about, Y/N?”

You know Gio wanted the best for you, even though sometimes he was too stubborn to admit it. You were too, but you loved him to bits. Maybe that’s why you two fit together so well.

“I let someone close to my heart, and it fucked me over.”

Gio nodded softly. “Well then. Just consider it a vacation. She’ll still be there though.”

“And you won’t make me go out with her?”

“As if I can make you do anything.”

Unless you were legally prohibited or physically unable to, you would never turn down a proper party. So there you were, on a yacht in Ibiza with your best friend and several other people in his entourage. Gio, that little shit, though having promised not to set you up, was elbowing you at a woman the moment she set foot on the yacht. Anyone with eyes would say that she was beautiful; curly hair, plump lips, and soulful eyes you could get lost in.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. It didn’t hurt to try.

You went over to the bar where she stood and ordered a drink. Glancing behind your shoulder, you noticed Gio sending you a big thumbs-up.

“So, you are the one Gio keeps raving on about,” said the woman next to you. Her eyes were really pretty.

“I guess so. That’s me,” you let out a laugh, albeit shakily. “Am I everything you dreamed of and more?”

It was her turn to laugh. “He definitely mentioned your confidence, yes.”

“Well, then I’ll definitely keep you around for sure. But just so you know, I do other things besides kick a football around and look pretty doing it.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself,” you smirked. “I’m Y/N,” you extended a hand.

“Leena,” she took your hand in a firm handshake and raised her drink to you.

You took a sip, and watched her behind the glass, only to notice that she was looking back at you as well. “So, how did you know Gio?”

“I worked with him on a couple of photoshoots. I’m a photographer,” leaning against the bar with her drink, she smiled and pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. “He was really nervous, said he didn’t like getting his picture taken. Luckily, I used to work with kids and animals back home in Finland, so making a full-grown man laugh for his headshots wasn’t too hard.”

“You’re from Finland?”

“Mmhm. I go back and forth between London and Manchester now, though.”

“Interesting,” you nodded inconspicuously. “I play in Manchester. Nice city.”

Before you knew it, the sun had started to go down, and it was time to drive the yacht back to port. As you all made your way to the exit to disembark, you waited for Leena before offering your hand to help her down the ramp.

Your group was to head into town, and have some dinner before going to a local music festival to finish the night off. It was dark by the time you arrived at the venue, and you wasted no time in immersing yourself in the music. Gio and the others were long forgotten, and you found yourself enjoying your time with Leena much more than you had anticipated.

You told her about your job, and she asked about the World Cup. As much as you hated to talk about it, having declined several interviews and podcast appearances in which mentions of the tournament were inevitable, you told her everything she wanted to know.

She was so attentive and listened, even though you knew she didn’t follow the sport, and for that you were thankful. It has been a while since you talked to someone about how you felt and have them listen so wholeheartedly.

“Do you ever miss home?” You asked once the both of you had taken a break from dancing.

“Sometimes, but right now my wanderlust is bigger than my homesickness. I want to see everything the world has to offer.”

You swirled your martini on the standing table. “I’ve been away from home for so long, I don’t really know where home is anymore.”

“Well, I think home is where you make it.” She lay a hand on your bare arm, caressing it slowly. “If you’ve already made a home at this age, what else is there to do?”

Your eyes trailed along her arm up to her face. Your heart slowed, and the music seemed to have faded in the background. Despite the chaos of the festival, several drunk people dancing next to you, and your friends have already disappeared somewhere, you suddenly had an overwhelming urge to kiss Leena.

But it wasn’t her that you wanted to kiss, not really. You wanted to kiss her because it reminded you of familiar feelings, to have someone in your corner that you didn’t have to pretend to. But of course that was all based on a lie.

As she reached into your martini to pick up the olive pick and held it out for you, you bit down gently on the fruit and let her pull the pick away. You smiled bashfully.

“I’ll go get us some more drinks,” you cleared your throat. “Do you want some fries too?”

You needed to get out of there before you did something you regret and ruin a good thing, again.

The bartender was off once you’d given him your order. Whilst waiting for the drinks, you looked around for familiar faces and spotted Gio and a couple of his friends “dancing” to the music in one corner, clearly quite inebriated.

“Y/N.”

You turned around and wished that you didn’t. It was Ona, looking at you like you were some sort of alien.

“Ona,” you breathed.

“Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with friends.” Now would be a good time for those drinks, bartender.

She nodded. “How are you?”

“Fine,” you said too quickly. “Congratulations by the way, on winning.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“You guys deserved it. No matter who’s trying to take it away from you, you did, and you should celebrate it,” you meant it and tried to force a smile that adequately expressed your sentiments. Needless to say, it would be easier to be saying this to one of her teammates, anyone but her.

You remembered the night she broke your heart, the night when you left your heart by the sidewalk as you trekked all the way home on foot.

That was three months ago, and with all the distractions you’ve indulged yourself in, somehow it still ached.

The bartender handed you your drinks just then, and you were off.

“Y/N, wait.” You closed your eyes. “I’m sorry . . . for what I said, how I said it.”

“No, I think you made your point very clear, Ona. Have a good rest of your trip.”

“Y/N, I did feel something too! I did!”

Ona felt like biting her tongue at the look you gave her when you turned around, the two glasses of Negronis dangling in your fingers by your side. She had almost regretted it when your lips trembled, and your chest rose and fell as if an implosion was imminent.

You took a large step towards her and exhaled. “You don’t get to do that. Not after I’ve tried to do everything to forget you. You can’t do that.”

Ona opened her mouth to say something, but she knew anything she said would only add to your fury.

“I hope you’re happy by the way.” You said mockingly. “Seeing that you got what you wanted. Winning the World Cup, moving back to Barcelona. Hope you’re happy. Bye, Ona.”

She watched unmovingly as you walked away from her, back to a table where a woman was waiting, and pulled her towards the crowd to dance. She found herself returning to her group, not being able to get the image of you swaying behind the woman with your arm around her neck out of her mind.

What kind of sick joke was the universe playing to make her see you right when she was supposed to be enjoying her days off? Maybe it was her punishment, having broken your heart then practically fleeing the country immediately after.

“Where’s the drink, Ona? You were supposed to get us some,” Lucy questioned her when she came back.

“Oh, sorry. I thought I saw someone.”

“Oi, is that Y/N? Y/N!”

“No, please don’t.” Ona grabbed Lucy’s arm, and quickly pulled it down.

Realizing Lucy didn’t know about it, she knew she was going to have to tell her one way or another. Surprisingly, Lucy didn’t laugh or tease her about it after hearing the entire story. They were back at their hotel, with another bottle of wine passed between them, and Ona told her new teammate everything.

“You were under our noses the whole time, and we didn’t even realize,” Lucy snickered with a shake of her head.

“Yeah,” the night had taken a toll on her, and Ona started to feel the effect of the alcohol as she lay staring at the ceiling. “Have I made a huge mistake? Letting myself be involved in all this.”

“Obviously, but the heart wants what it wants. Trust me,” the brunette took another sip from the bottle. “It is a hard situation, but she needs space, as much as you can give her so she can heal.”

“Sounds like you’ve been through it before,” Ona smirked and poked her with her elbows.

The older woman only laughed. “Something like that.”

As hard as it was to accept the truth, Ona had to move on. She didn’t have a lot of time to mope around, however, before she knew it, the season had already begun. Barcelona had always been a place to return to, and the team needed someone who had Barcelona in her DNA to complete the defense.

It was all going swimmingly, too much so even. The season started out slow, but they grabbed the wins when they needed them. Then it was time for the Champions League draw. Barcelona had been drawn into a group with RSC Anderlecht, AS Roma, and Manchester City.

Just her luck. She’d have to see you twice before the year ended. Barcelona would be going to Manchester first.

With her chance encounter with you in Ibiza still fresh on her mind, she joined the queue for warm-up, looking up every once in a while in case she spotted you. When she did, you were standing by the sideline talking animatedly to your other former teammate Keira. She tore her eyes away before you could notice her, and swallowed that uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Longing for your American girl?” Mapi said with a smirk.

“Shut up,” Ona mumbled, jogging away to do stretches. “I knew Lucy would blab.”

“So Lucy knows? I was just making an educated guess from the way you keep making those sad puppy eyes at her.”

“At who?” Ingrid appeared from behind.

“Y/L/N,” Mapi raised her eyebrows at her girlfriend with a smirk, and Ingrid gasped excitedly.

“Oh my god, Y/N Y/L/N?! You guys would be so cute together!”

“Guys, come on. We have a match to play,” Ona groaned and begrudgingly jogged away. Just before she started her sprints though, she snuck one last glance at you, when you briefly looked back. As if having been burnt just by a look, you quickly said goodbye to Keira and went back to your half to continue warming up.

“Do you think they were already together?” Ingrid whispered at Mapi.

Mapi sighed, “Definitely.”

Ona started that match on the left, as Lucy also started and occupied her usual right side. You were playing on the right this time to allow Lauren Hemp to be on the left wing. It meant there would be none of her usual duels with you.

Ever since Lucy’s slip-up in the World Cup final, Ona knew she had been more cautious in defense and stayed back most of the time. It gave her the opportunity to set up passes deeper whilst also keeping you at bay, the tactic Ona herself used at United and one she knew you absolutely despised.

Sure enough, you stupidly went up against only one of the best fullbacks in the world. Your dribbling and speed were to your advantage, and Lucy—with all her experience and knowledge of your play—easily controlled you at the flanks. So you tried inverting inside, and Lucy followed you too, if not Irene did.

Man City was pressing high, giving the offense plenty of opportunities in the box, but Barcelona was better in defense. It was only when a precise lofted ball was sent past the back line, that Lucy was trailing after you. You went down just outside of the box. As everyone was getting ready for the free kick, you were still on the ground. Your ankle had been stomped on by Irene during the struggle.

Ona quickly jogged over and put her hand over your shoulder, “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Don’t put your hands on me,” you seethed, swatting her hand away, just as the physios came over and sprayed your ankle. Just moments later, you were able to stand up, but you never spared her another glance.

As much as it stung, she clenched her jaw to stop the tears and got ready for the free kick.

Barcelona ended up winning 2-0, a stellar start to their UWCL campaign. While Ona went to shake hands with several players from the opposition, she looked for you, seeing you walk towards the stands. You took pictures and signed for some people, even gave a little kid your shirt, but she saw the way you lit up when talking to someone in the crowd. Upon closer look, it was the woman you were with in Ibiza.

Your smile was blinding as Leena was led down the pitch towards you. “Hi,” you breathed. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Of course I did. You gave me tickets, remember?” She brought you in for a hug. “I’m sorry you lost, but it was very entertaining. I took lots of pictures.”

“Of me, I hope?” You smirked.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Keep dreaming, Y/L/N.”

Smiling slightly, you brought her in for a side hug. “Thank you for coming,” you kissed Leena’s cheek. “Means a lot.”

Ona was watching the entire interaction, fuming on the inside. Lucy and Mapi knew to steer clear of her path once they returned to the dressing room by the glower on her usually affable face.

SportsPro Media: Y/N Y/L/N Seen ‘Smiling’ After Man City Lost to Barcelona in Women’s Champions League Group Stage “Fans have taken to social media to criticize the winger, 21, after she was seen smiling and conversing with fans at the stands after a 2-0 loss to reigning champions Barcelona. The criticism came after several of Y/L/N’s teammates on the USWNT were also condemned for their overt optimism after barely making it out of their group in the Women’s World Cup this summer. Among the critics was former USWNT international Carli Lloyd. Y/L/N was also seen getting more than friendly with her rumored girlfriend, whom the winger was spotted on holiday with in Ibiza alongside U.S. men’s team’s Gio Reyna after a shockingly early World Cup exit. […]”

When the second round of the group stage came around, you were much better prepared. Though you were playing away in Barcelona, Man City were preparing to win. You were definitely training to do so, so when the starting XI lineup was posted on the door in the dressing room, you were stunned when your name wasn’t on the list. You had been benched before—it was all part of the game—but only during less important games or for your own recovery, but never during an important game like this.

“Gareth, can I speak to you, please?” You said, gritting your teeth when the gaffer opened the door in his office.

“Of course,” he gestured for you to follow inside. “Take a seat.”

You remained standing. “Why am I not starting for the Barcelona game?”

“I’m doing what I think will be best for the team, Y/N.”

“By benching me? You need me!”

“Easy, Y/L/N. No one is above the club, and I don’t appreciate your tone,” Gareth’s tone was despicably calm, yet no less menacing.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself. “I want to know why, in an important game such as this one.”

“It seems . . . that you might have a personal reason as to why you want to start this game, but I have to rotate the squad and—”

“Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean? What personal reason?”

Gareth sighed. “I’ve been informed that you’ve had a personal relationship with one of Barcelona’s players that didn’t end too well.”

“So? What does that have to do with anything?” You all but yelled.

“I’m making a decision that I deem best for the club, and you and every other player will listen because I am in charge!” Gareth had never yelled, not like this. It made you flinch. “I will not have my players’ private life bleed into the performance of the team. Now, you can either support my decision or I will have you removed from the squad traveling to Barcelona, and replace you with someone else who will put the team above their own interest.”

Your mouth is sewn shut, just by the sheer shock at what the manager had just said. You stormed out of his office without another word, slamming the door open to mask what you were truly feeling inside. It wasn’t fury—you were beyond that—it has turned into fear of being replaced; fear of being left behind.

Man City drew that match, and it was just enough to send the team to the quarterfinals, having done it entirely without you. Gareth had made up a bullshit excuse to the press to make you stay home.

Your agent, Toni, was much more furious for you, saying what he did breach the contract you signed and that you should be taking action. In the five years they have been your agent, you have never had to endure that much legal talk over a club issue before. You’d be amused at their passionate rambling if you weren’t already nursing a headache.

“I think you should leave, Y/N,” they finally said after getting off the phone.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “But where would I even go? I don’t have any offers yet.”

“You will, once the news comes out that you’re looking to leave the club. You only have one year left on your contract anyway, plenty would seek to employ you.”

You had been through this before. The waiting after letting it be known that you wanted to leave was the worst, but you weren’t just a nobody anymore. You were Y/N Y/L/N, and you would have it your way one way or another.

“Alright, then.” You nodded firmly. “Let’s have a talk with Gareth. I’m not gonna scurry out of this club like a rat.”

Goal.com: Y/N Y/L/N Looking for Man City Exit After Tension With Boss Gareth Taylor “Sources within Man City are saying the American winger could be on her way out of Manchester this summer. The player has reportedly ‘fallen out of favor’ with City gaffer Gareth Taylor after ‘expressing her vexation over lack of playing time’. The 22-year-old was left out of the squad traveling to Barcelona for the 4th group stage match of the Women’s Champions League altogether and has since featured in significantly fewer matches for the Citizens. Several European clubs are reportedly keen to sign Y/L/N, but she could also be making a return to the NWSL for what could be a record signing in the women’s game yet. […]

Though you were scared, it was much easier to let go of a burden that you have been carrying around for so long.

Which was why you had agreed to come to a concert with Leena when she had asked you. You would let yourself have fun and connect with someone without being scared anymore because what Ona did to you had nothing with who you were, and you sure as hell weren’t going to pay the price for it.

Needless to say, you and Leena had a great time. You were been walking back to your car in the parking lot when you saw a flash. You sighed and walked Leena towards the passenger side.

“Get in the car. Don’t come out, okay?” You told her with a smile, which was quickly wiped off once you saw the photographers approaching.

“Y/N, are you leaving City? Where do you think you’re going next?”

“Did you have a fight with Gareth?”

“Y/N, are you going to Barcelona?”

You entered the car with an exasperated sigh. Your breathing became heavy as you attempted to start the car, and your hand started to tremble.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Leena spoke softly. “Don’t let them get to you.”

She placed a hand over yours and squeezed it softly. Finding her eyes, you nodded gratefully, and drove away, trying your very best not to run those imbeciles over.

You went back to her apartment where you both ordered some takeout. Over a movie, you talked about anything and everything.

It was like that with Leena. Somehow, she has made you feel okay with pouring your entire heart out in front of her, her caring eyes and encouraging silence taking away your doubts about looking like an emotional fool in front of her.

But the moment you saw her eyes dart back and forth between yours, then down to your lips and leaned in, you froze. You wanted this, only because it would be good for you, but you couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry, Leena. I-I—” Jumping out of the couch, you stuttered like a broken record. Of course, she would have read it like that, you couldn’t blame her. You didn’t quite know what you wanted, but all you could think about was how different it was to kiss Leena than it was to kiss Ona.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t try to stop you. In fact, she didn’t say anything at all. She might as well have been just as shell-shocked as you were by your reaction. You bolted out of there as quickly as you can, like a coward.

Unsurprisingly, Leena hasn’t tried to contact you. You couldn’t blame her, you’d be pissed at yourself too. It seemed everyone was pissed at you these days.

Chloe approached you once in the weight room to ask if you were leaving. You could only offer her an apology, but she brought you in for a hug. You would miss her the most.

Meanwhile, Toni was working tirelessly on your next move, and all you could do was train and be the best footballer you could be while you waited. Even if Gareth didn’t deserve your effort, your teammates did, and you owed it to them to give it your all until the day you left the training ground for the last time.

There was only one destination you had in mind, but going there would mean having to confront your serial one-night stand that you were possibly in love with, who also didn’t share your feelings.

You couldn’t let that deter you from ascending the football hierarchy, though. You couldn’t, and you won’t. You would do it one way or another because it was where you deserved to be. You would show Gareth that he was wrong about you.

“I can’t believe you’re going to Lyon! That’s crazy, Y/N!” Gio said over the phone. He was the first person you told and was ecstatic when you did.

“They still haven’t sent anything official yet, but it’s looking like it, yeah.”

“Well, what happened to the Barcelona deal?”

“My agent was flipping out when I said no, but then this deal came two days later and now they’re flipping out again but for a good reason.”

“That’s awesome, dude! I’m happy for you!”

“I don’t know, I just—I feel like I’m not there yet or something. Lyon wants me, but they’re freakin’ Lyon!”

“Hey, I know all about imposter syndrome, alright? But you can’t let that keep you from playing at one of the best clubs in the world.”

“Don’t let Dortmund hear you say that,” you smirked.

“Eh, we know where we are. That’s why we sold Erling and Jude,” Gio spoke. “Point is, they want you. They clearly see how good of a player you are. So get your ass over to France and show them that!”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You’re right.”

“Alright, gotta go. But hey, let’s go for a drink next time you’re in town. Hopefully, by then, you’re a Lyon player.”

You ended the call and got up to go take a shower. Just before you went to the bathroom, though, your phone rang again.

Grinning, you picked up again, “Look, if you’re telling me you’re gonna set me up again, I swear to god, Gio.”

But you didn’t hear Gio’s voice or teasing laugh. Instead, there was a shaky sniffle on the other side.

You checked the caller ID, and it was an unknown number. From Barcelona.

“Hello?” You said, unsure.

“Hey, Y/N. I just . . . just needed to hear your voice.”

You sighed because you knew exactly who it was. You had etched the cadence and tone of her voice into your memories during the many nights you’ve spent together.

“It’s Ona, by the way.”

“I know,” you nodded. You didn’t quite know how else to carry on this conversation. “I heard Barcelona’s beautiful this time of year.”

“Yeah, it is,” she said, sniffling again. “You should see the beach at sunset. It’s great. I go and sit there almost every night.”

“Are you drunk, Ona?”

“No, no. Maybe a little bit. Just a little bit though. I had two glasses of wine. Or else I wouldn’t have the courage to be doing this. Just like I didn’t have the courage to tell you that I had feelings for you too. Have, I still do.”

You closed your eyes and shut off the water. Then she said it again, “I have feelings for you, Y/N. I think about you all the time. And I know you might be with someone now, but I just can’t . . .”

She started crying again. “I can’t go on without telling you anymore.”

“This is incredibly selfish, what you’re doing, Ona.” You were close to tears too, hearing how much this hurt her.

“I know. I’m sorry I fucked it all up. I’m sorry for hurting you. If I could take back everything I said, I would. I’m so, so sorry.”

You took a deep breath and sat back down on your bed. “I forgive you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was selfish too,” you said quietly. “You should go to sleep. You have a Champions League final to play tomorrow.”

You ended the call before you or she could say anything else.

“Shit,” you mumbled and threw yourself back onto the bed. This was exactly why you had to say no to Barcelona, even though it was your dream to play for them. Alas, it started to feel like a mistake.

You dialed Toni. “Hey, um, please don’t kill me for asking this, but could you reach back out to Barcelona and tell them I’m very interested?”

“I knew you’d pull some shit like this so I’ve stalled them. They don’t know we’re negotiating with Lyon, and would probably be fine with setting up a call soon. It’d be a headache to handle Lyon, though.”

“That’s why you’re the best agent in the world, right?” You smiled sheepishly.

“We’ll see, Y/N. We’ve got some leverage for now, but it’s not guaranteed that Barça won’t say no.”

“Thank you, Toni!” You hung up the phone.

ESPN: Barcelona Completes Signing of Y/N Y/L/N from Manchester City on World Record Transfer Fee “Manchester City W.F.C. has agreed to sell USWNT winger Y/N Y/L/N to Barcelona on a £485,000 record fee. This transfer surpasses Keira Walsh’s own move to Barcelona from the Sky Blues in 2022 with a fee of around £400,000. The signing of the summer was finally completed after several clubs have been reported to enter the race. Olympique Lyon was also close to acquiring the 22-year-old’s signature, but the deal broke down in late June when the player repeatedly expressed her interest in joining the Catalan giants. A technically gifted forward, Y/L/N can play on either side as a winger, and occasionally as an attacking midfielder for the national team. Her impending arrival at La Blaugrana would provide a boost in attacking power to an already impressive Barcelona side. […]”

“Jesus, you look like someone murdered your mother or something. Liven up, please.” Mapi smacked her Ona on the shoulder.

“I’m just a little nervous to see her again,” the younger girl muttered, fiddling with her fingers.

She could hear voices outside the dressing room getting closer. At the sound of your voice, her ears trained. She remained facing her locker, trying to occupy herself until you came in. She really felt like throwing up.

You greeted Aitana first with a quick hug, Marta too, then Lucy brought you in for a spin and released you for Keira to go in for the hug.

You said hello to Mapi and Ingrid, both of whom hugged you tightly.

Then you were in front of her. She had expected you to not even look at her, after what she had said over the phone. But you smiled a genuine smile, the one you used to give her whenever the world was a little too hard to bear.

Ona remembered everything. From the sheer hatred and resentment to the lust and sleepless nights under the sheets, to the longing and heartache she endured away from you.

“Welcome,” she whispered quietly, afraid you might not reciprocate her greeting.

Instead, you pulled her into you and held her tightly.

a/n: i’ve decided to add some lore for our y/n, lmk if you like it, if you don’t like it, if you think it’s too long and you just wanna get straight to the smooching :)) there’s more to come but now the stakes 😌☝️ are higher now that we have some info on what makes y/n ticks. i’m going back to college this week so updates might come later but yeah pls let me know what you think!!

#ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagines #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle angst #woso imagines #barcelona femeni #gio reyna x reader #woso #lucy bronze #mapi leon #ingrid engen

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waterhousse · 1 year

Text

That Funny Feeling

Pairing: bestfriend!ellie williams x reader

Summary: you slowly start to realize you’ve fallen in love with your best friend.

• • • •

“are you done?” you groaned, tired. the girl in front of you gazed up at you, eyes wide and eyewbrows up.

“does it look like i’m done?” ellie gestured at herself. you almost laugh at how sassy she looked.

“i’ve been posing for an eternity.”

“it’s been like ten minutes!”

“well, i can’t feel my ass anymore.”

“i’m sure it’s still there,” she said without even looking at you.

after a few moments of silence, you spoke up again, “you’re gonna have to pay me for this.”

ellie looked up from her sketchbook, completely offended. “is my art not enough payment?”

“i can’t buy shit with your art,” you deadpanned.

you had been so quick with your reply that an inevitable chuckle escaped your friend’s lips. “fuck you,” she laughed and you found yourself wanting to come up with an infinite amount of jokes just to hear that sound again. “hold still or i’m gonna have to start over.”

your eyes stayed on her as she went back to her job, unable to look anywhere else. you had always enjoyed watching her draw, founding it soothing. it also allowed you to study her and notice quirks only you could know about; the way she slightly frowned during the whole process due to the concentration and the countless huffs she let out, especially when she had to restart after a mistake. your favorite one, though, was when she sung. ellie’s voice was sweet, you had told her that many times, so you loved being able to hear it. she didn’t even notice she did it, the melodies just came out without warning.

“aaand, done.”

you jumped out of the big rock you had been sitting on for the past fifteen minutes and ran to her side, trying to catch a glimpse of her drawing, but she closed the sketchbook on your nose.

“hey, let me see.”

“it’s not ready yet,” she started gathering her supplies. you rolled your eyes at her. “stop that,” she muttered.

“what— i haven’t even said anything!”

“i know you rolled your eyes at me,” ellie said as she looked for something inside her backpack. you scoffed, but it actually warmed your heart how well she knew you. “c’mon, let’s go to my place. it’s getting late.”

you were currently behind the town’s barn, ellie had chosen that spot because, apparently, the moonlight hit your face just right. it was cold as hell that night, but being the supportive friend that you were, you decided to respect ellie’s struck of inspiration.

“i’ll show you the drawing when it’s finished, by the way,” she spoke up once you caught up with her.

“kay, well, finish it quick or else i won’t pose for you anymore.”

“fine, i’ll ask stella.”

you dramatically gasped at the mention of her. stella was relatively new in Jackson and the only person in the world you truly despised.

“don’t even joke about that.”

the fact that you hated someone that much was hilarious to her. it didn’t match your personality at all. you were the calmest, sweetest person she had ever met. besides, no one really knew why you hated her so much. even you, which was ridiculous. for some reason, everything that girl did or said annoyed you. you couldn’t stand her, feeling there was something off about her, but couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” she placed an arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to her. you tried to ignore how fast your heartbeat had gotten. that seemed to be happening a lot lately around her. “but hey, you gotta admit she’s not that bad.”

your heart dropped, “you’ve talked to her?”

“what? no. i just think she’s hot.”

you crossed your arms as you hummed in response, suddenly feeling very sick. there was a sharp pang in the pit of your stomach, so you spent the entire walk quiet, only answering to ellie’s babbling with monosyllables. your friend had noticed, so once you arrived at her place she grabbed you by the arm, making you turn around.

“hey, you, uh, you okay? i was kidding about stella. she’s not— i’m not interested in her, y’know?” ellie was nervous, but you were too busy staring at the hand that was stopping you from walking away and how your skin tingled beneath it.

“it’s fine,” you gave her a small smile, eyes back on her. “but i think i’m about to come up with a fever or something, i feel a little weird.”

ellie stepped closer, letting go of your arm and placing her hand on your forehead. “yeah, i think you’re hot.”

you let out a chuckle, “thanks, i’m glad you’re finally admitting it.”

your friend rolled her eyes before opening the door for you. she stood by the doorframe, waiting for you to go inside, but you hesitated.

“i think it’s best for me to go home—”

“what? no, shut up. i’m gonna head over to joel’s to see if he has some painkillers or something, you stay here,” she said as she softly pushed you inside her house. you opened your mouth as you turned around, ready to protest, but the sound of the door closing stopped you. letting out a sigh, you looked around to finally set your eyes on the couch, where you decided to wait for ellie as you tried to ignore whatever you were feeling.

you swept your gaze over the place, warmth spreading over your heart as you spotted little details that screamed ellie; a bunch of savage starlight comics, her guitar perfectly set next to the window, art supplies, books about astronomy and many, many drawings that were either on the walls or just laying on top of the furniture.

you spotted one of her many sketchbooks laying on the floor by her bed, so you went to pick it up and put it on her nightstand, next to the lamp.

after a while, you heard the sound of jiggling keys followed by ellie’s characteristic cursing. you got up from the couch and went to open the door for her since she was clearly struggling. ellie’s frown disappeared once she laid her eyes on you.

“you okay?” you asked, amused.

“this fucking door, i swear to god—” she mumbled as she stepped inside. “look! joel made you soup. i swear he likes you more than he likes me.”

you chuckled at the last part, “i mean, can you blame him?” you joked. there was no way he liked anyone more than ellie, but that didn’t change the fact that you felt incredibly loved and protected by him, too.

ellie gazed at you, a small smile hiding on her lips, “yeah, i supposed i can’t,” she almost whispered. “c’mon, get into bed,” she ordered.

“jeez, ellie. buy me a drink first, at least,” you said, missing ellie’s flustered state. it only lasted a second, though, because her usual smug smirk was already forming on her lips.

“oh, you wish,” she teased back.

maybe it was what she said, maybe it was the way she said it, but your stomach flipped at her words. it was such an unexpected reaction that it made you froze in your spot, completely startled.

“you’re gonna get in bed or…?” ellie’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, she was holding up the covers for you.

“i can go to my house, you know. i don’t wanna be any trouble—” you said as you sat down on the bed. your friend pointed at your shoes and gestured for you to take them off.

“shut up and just let me take care of you, would you?” ellie carefully placed the soup on the nightstand. she went around the bed and sat on the other side just as you wiggled under the covers. she looked down at you, slightly leaning down, “you’re so stubborn,” she murmured as she passed you the soup.

you frowned, offended, “look who’s talking,” you bickered as you glanced up, but you weren’t prepared to see her so close. your eyes met hers, forcing you to avert your gaze elsewhere. you felt her stare still on you, making you malfunction. maybe that was the reason you took a sip of the soup without even considering how hot it would be. ellie laughed shamelessly at you when you burned your tongue. “shit!” you shrieked.

“i’m not saying you deserved it, but…” ellie teased. you would’ve pushed her off the bed if you hadn’t had a flaming hot bowl of soup in your hands, instead, you silently watched her take off her converse. she looked back at you, “move over, i’m cold.”

your breath hitched on your throat at the request, but did as she said. you kept your attention on the bowl of soup that warmed your cold hands, not feeling brave enough to make eye contact with the girl next to you.

“how’s the soup?”

“oh, it’s great. joel’s the best. remind me to thank him tomorrow.” you smiled. “want some?”

“nah, thanks. i don’t like soup.”

“what do you mean you don’t like soup?”

“i just don’t.”

“what’s not to like? it’s yummy.”

“i’m gonna ignore the fact that you just said yummy. and i don’t know! i just don’t like it.”

“weirdo. you’re missing out.”

“okay, soup’s best defender, whatever you say,” she muttered as she closed her eyes. you bit the inside of your cheek as you allowed yourself to scan her face, stopping on the freckles you had complimented so many times.

you looked away, leaving the bowl of soup on the nightstand of your side. the sound made ellie open her eyes.

“you’re gonna sleep?” she asked, her eyes were even more hypnotizing up close.

you nodded, suddenly losing the hability to speak.

“me too,” ellie said before yawning.

“hold on. you’re gonna sleep in jeans, you freak?”

ellie let out an exaggerated groan, “i don’t have the energy to get up and change. it’s too much work.”

“don’t be lazy, c’mon. i’m gonna change, too.” you began to softly push her off the bed, which eventually worked. she walked to her closet and threw you a big white t-shirt, it was the same one you always wore when you slept over.

you averted your gaze from ellie once she started to take her pants off, but it strangely took a lot of strength for you to do so. you shook your head and climbed up to bed, shortly followed by your friend.

“there, happy?”

“very.”

“great. oh, and try not to kick me so fucking much this time or i’m gonna have to fight back,” she muttered with amusement.

you let out a chuckle, “i’ll do my best,” you whispered before everything fell quiet.

you didn’t know exactly how much time had passed since ellie turned off the light, but you were sure it was a while. still as a statue, you layed next to her while staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of how you were feeling. eyes wide, stomach in a knot and heart fluttering as if it were a butterfly.

you realized you had fallen asleep once you opened your eyes and daylight touched almost every corner of the room. you blinked a few times before you fully adjusted to the light, that’s when you noticed ellie’s closeness. she was almost on top of you, breathing into the crook of your neck. it wasn’t the first time you had woken up like that with her, but it was the first time you felt different.

“ellie,” you whispered. she whined in response, mumbling something inaudible. you felt your heartbeat race when she nuzzled further into your neck, feeling her lips touch your skin. you squeezed your eyes shut, noticing the unknown feelings from the day before were still present. “hey, ellie. c’mon. it’s almost eight,” you pronounced softly, but ellie ignored you. “i’ve got somewhere to be, y’know.”

“where?” she asked almost immediately.

“i told dina i’d have breakfast with her. i would’ve invited you, but i know you’re not a morning person, so…”

she complained once again, but eventually came out of her hiding. you almost laughed at her expression.

“were you born with that frown?” you placed your fingers in between her eyebrows, making her smoothen the lines.

“shut up,” she laughed softly. “and i could be a morning person, you know.”

“so you’re coming with me?”

“no, i wanna sleep.”

you laughed and got up, ellie’s eyes following you on your way to the bathroom until you closed the door. you stared at yourself in the mirror, suddenly feeling embarrassed because of the way your hair looked. ellie had seen you like that a million times before, but that time you actually cared about looking at least presentable for her.

with a sigh, you grabbed the toothbrush you had left once and started brushing your teeth. everything felt strange, but you tried to act as normal as possible.

after washing your face and brushing your hair, you changed into your clothes. you took a deep breath before getting out of the bathroom, trying to calm down the sudden nerves that attacked you, but the sight that welcomed you once you opened the door didn’t help at all; ellie’s bare legs were crossed on top of the bed, she had tied her hair into her usual half-bun and a few strands fell over her face as she drew on her sketchbook.

“i thought you wanted to sleep,” you commented, picking up your jacket from the floor.

“just wanted to add some finishing touches to yesterday’s drawing,” her voice sounded even raspier when she was sleepy. “oh, and i forgot to give you that jacket you asked me for the other day,” she said as she got out of bed and quickly walked to her closet, leaving the sketchbook on top of her nightstand.

“trade?” you held up your jacket, making her grin. she grabbed it from you and gave you hers, which you immediately put on.

“you look great,” ellie complimented you, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

“thank you,” you smiled, your voice sounding incredibly weak. “and thank you for taking care of me. i—” love you, you almost said, but for some reason, those last two words died in your throat. it was weird. even though you always said it to her, that time that phrase seemed to carry a heavier, still unknown, meaning. “i gotta go.”

you turned around to leave, but ellie called your name. you looked back at her and watched her grab her sketchbook from the nightstand. “here,” she handed it to you. just as you were about to open it, she stopped you. “wait! look at it later. i don’t wanna see your disappointment if you don’t like it.”

“don’t be silly, you could never disappoint me,” you sincerely replied. “but okay, i’ll see it when i’m home.”

“have fun with dina. not too much fun, though. you’re not allowed to enjoy life to the fullest if i’m not there.”

“i promise i won’t. see you later,” your eyes met hers one last time before closing the door.

when you arrived at your house, you saw dina already waiting for you. once she spotted you, she started frenetically waving at you. a laugh escaped your lips as you copied her action. yeah, two people with that much energy at 8 am would be a lot for ellie to handle.

“finally! i’ve knocking on your door for the past 10 minutes. i thought you were dead,” was the first thing she said to you as she gave you hug.

“sorry, i slept over at ellie’s.”

dina let out a chuckle, “of course you did.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“you two are always together, i should’ve known. that’s all,” dina shrugged her shoulders. she decided not to comment on the fact that you were wearing ellie’s favorite jacket.

you opened the door and stepped aside, inviting her in. you followed her to the kitchen, where you put water to boil.

“oh, i saw your friend on my way here,” dina commented as she took out two mugs from your hand-painted cupboard. ellie had participated in the process too, drawing different kind of flowers.

“my friend? who?”

“stella,” she amusedly pronounced. you inevitably rolled your eyes, making her laugh. “you still hate her?”

“yes! ellie brought her up yesterday and i almost threw up, i’m not kidding. i don’t even know why i hate her so much, i’ve never even talked to her,” you sat down at the kitchen island while dina stood on the other side of it.

“uh, yes you have,” your friend frowned, confused. “you seriously don’t remember? jesse’s party a few weeks ago, it was the night after she arrived to town.”

you tried your best to remember, but nothing came to your mind. you remembered the party, but not stella. your lost expression must’ve been enough for dina to know that you actually had no idea what she was talking about.

“woah, so you were more fucked up than i thought you were,” she muttered more to herself than to you. “okay, so, jesse invited her because she was new and all that. you had a lot to drink, apparently, so you were already drunk when you approached her. you introduced ourselves and asked her if she had met anyone else besides jesse and us and she said she hadn’t, but that she had seen a girl she was interested in and she was planning on finding her. when she started describing her, we realized she was talking about—”

“ellie. she was talking about ellie,” you replied, eyes wide. the memories came flooding back, making you freeze for a second. “oh my god.”

“you totally snapped at her and told her not to go anywhere near her or you’d scratch her eyes off,” she laughed, but you were completely horrified. “yeah, you get pretty violent when you drink. in my opinion, it’s hilarious.”

“i remember the way she ran away after i said that,” you cover your mouth in disbelief.

the more you processed the forgotten information, the more you worried. that uncontrollable hatred you felt towards stella was because of jealousy over your best friend?

“i mean, i support you. you gotta defend what’s yours,” dina cheered, but her smile disappeared once she noticed your expression. “hey, you okay?”

“i shouldn’t have done that. i had no right—”

“hey, it’s okay. i’m sure ellie wouldn’t have been interested in her anyway.”

“she told me she thinks stella’s hot yesterday,” you muttered, eyes set on your own fidgeting hands.

dina stayed quiet for a bit, but you could still feel her staring at you.

“what’s that?” she pointed to the sketchbook next to you.

“oh, it’s ellie’s. she drew me yesterday and gave it to me so i could see it,” you couldn’t help but smile. you watched dina take it and look at the pages with a blank expression.

“have you seen this?”

“not yet, why? is it good?”

“well, yeah, they’re good. there’s a lot of them.”

confused, you reached over to grab the book from her hands. your eyes widened at the content. you felt your heartbeat increase by the second and a deep blush color your cheeks as you rummaged through the pages. you were on each and every one of them; smiling, laughing, dancing, sleeping and more. you recognized some of them, since you remembered posing that way, but the majority of them were ellie’s invention. you were left speechless at how well she had managed to capture you, down to the smallest detail.

“she may think stella’s hot, but i can assure you she thinks you’re the most beautiful girl to ever walk the earth. i mean, look at those. you’re her muse,” dina smiled sweetly at you.

“i have to talk to her,” you whispered before standing up. “i don’t wanna leave you alone, but—”

“it’s okay, dummy. i’ll be here, drinking my tea and waiting for you to come back and to tell me everything. take your time, though.”

with dina wishing you good luck, you left with the sketchbook in hand and ran to her place without even thinking twice about it. you ignored how dizzy you felt and the way your heart was beating at an abnormal speed. nothing else mattered, because everything suddenly seemed crystal clear.

your heart skipped a beat once you arrived at ellie’s place and saw her sitting on joel’s stairs, staring down at something in her hands. she looked up when she heard you approach.

“ellie—”

“i gave you the wrong sketchbook,” she whispered, staring at the object in your hands. you frowned, stepping closer to her. “you weren’t supposed to see that. i’m— shit, i’m sorry.”

“what? ellie, no. i loved it.”

“listen, you don’t have to lie. i know it’s really fucking weird and pathetic—”

“you wanna hear something really weird and pathetic? i scared the shit out of a girl just because she told me she was interested in you. you wanna hear the funniest part? that girl was stella. i drunkenly told her to stay away from you or else i would scratch her eyes out.”

ellie’s eyes widened, mouth slightly agape. worry had started spreading through your body. “what?”

“i forgot about that whole interaction but the anger i felt in that moment stuck with me to the point i hated a girl without even knowing why,” you let out an awkward chuckle. “i… i hated her because she thought about you the way only i can think about you.”

everything became a little too real since the moment those words left your lips, and even though a weight had been lifted from your shoulders once you made that confession, it was soon replaced with the weight of the question ‘what will happen next?’

ellie’s gaze softened, going from confusion to something indecipherable. was it pity or was it what you hoped for?

suddenly, she stood up. you watched her as she walked painfully slow at you, torturing you. once she was only inches away from you, she smiled. with a hand placed on your waist and the other on the side of your face, she finally leaned in and captured your lips in an agonizing, yet perfect, slow kiss. you melted into her touch, feeling as if you were about to explode of happiness.

it was what you had hoped for.

“i can’t believe this is actually happening,” ellie murmured, lips touching yours. she leaned back a little, allowing herself to look at you. her eyes expressed so much love you couldn’t understand how you went so long without realizing that.

“you’re blushing,” you commented, eyes sparkling.

“oh my g— why would you point that out?” ellie complained, but she wasn’t mad. “you’re blushing too, by the way.”

“shut up.”

you silently stared at each other with shy smiles. ellie caressed your face with her thumb and softly pressed her lips on yours, giving you one small kiss. everything felt so intimate that you had forgotten about the rest of the world, completely unaware of the fact that you were on the street.

“i was so fucking scared when i realized i gave you the wrong sketchbook. i thought i’d messed everything up,” ellie whispered, her eyebrows furrowing a little. “i’ve dealt with loss in the past, and even though it hurt like hell, i got over it. or at least i’ve been able to live with it, but losing you? There’s no way i’d make it.”

your heart fully stopped at her sweet words, “you’ll never lose me.”

“good,” she smiled. “y’know, i told myself to draw you whenever you were on my mind, just so i could do something with what i was feeling. turns out that i’m never not thinking about you.”

not knowing how to reply to that, you launched yourself forward, crashing your lips with hers. you could feel her laughing, making you giggle too.

“i was so nervous on my way here. i wasn’t sure if you felt the same way,” you let out a small laugh, lips a little swollen.

“what? the sketchbook didn’t make that clear?”

“well, i didn’t want to jump to conclusions. i could be another stella, you know, just some girl you find hot,” you bitterly said.

ellie grimaced, “yeah, about that…” she awkwardly chuckled. “i don’t she’s hot. i only said that because i was hoping to get a reaction out of you.”

you gasped, “ellie, what the hell? first of all, you’re a bitch. that was a low blow. second of all, well played. it worked. it made me sick, literally.”

“i thought that was a coincidence,” she let out a laugh. “am i a mastermind or what?”

you rolled your eyes at her gloating, “yeah, yeah. don’t let it get to your head. it’s already big enough.”

“hey!”

“kidding,” you pronounced in a sing-song voice. as happiness spread all over your body, you placed your arms on her shoulders and locked your hands behind her neck. grinning, you brought her closer and kissed her again, and again, and again, and again.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #friends to lovers #ellie williams tlou2

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viviennevermillion · 2 years

Text

When you faint in his arms

notes: just the contrast between how dottore treats his test subjects vs. how dottore treats you shfbsnjfks. idk shit about biology and medicine my only source for this are the couple of times I had to call an ambulance because of dehydration paired with demonic cramps from hell

contains: dottore x gn!reader, reader is dehydrated

warnings: fainting + associated symptoms, human experiments (not on the reader), murder, murder threats, needles, medical procedures, dottore is a warning but he treats the reader well, reader watches dottore perform the very questionable experiments

After spending a long day outside in the cold on Fatui business, you visit Dottore in his lab because he had invited you to tell you more about his research

You will never be able to separate Dottore from his questionable human experiments but he was willing to compromise on the test subjects and switch his focus from innocent citizens to the worst of the Snezhnayan prisoners once he realized that made you a lot more willing to discuss that part of his work with him

There is still snow on your head and coat so once Dottore sees you enter his lab, he wraps his large coat, that had previously been draped over a chair, around your shoulders

He kisses your forehead and notices how cold your skin is so he pulls you into a warm embrace as if that alone was enough to warm you over the course of 2-3 minutes.

"Would you like to sit down in front of the heater for a while? I can postpone the experiment for half an hour", he offers but you shake your head and grab his hand.

Dottore prepares a chair for you before concentrating on his experiment. The subject in question is a middle-aged man who whimpers "Please I have a family" on the metal table. "Nice try but you killed your family last June and all that's left of them is a couple of limbs. Your file shows the whole photographic slideshow you made of the process", Dottore grabs a bottle from his shelf.

"Please, lord, forgive me, I will atone for my sins", the man cries, sending his prayer to the heavens but receiving no answer.

"What's in the bottle?", you ask. "Pure alcohol", Dottore turns to you and shows you a model of the human head that's on his desk, "and this is where we put the needle." You were questioning for a moment if he got that right or if you were misunderstanding something. "On the inside of the nostril??", you raised your eyebrows as one of his clones shrugged. "It's a little complicated", he explains.

You stood up and walked closer to Dottore as he filled the syringe with the pure alcohol and inserted the needle into the subject.

He seemed very concentrated on his work, yet he noticed something was up with you even before you did. In a matter of minutes were feeling dizzy and nauseous. Your legs felt like they were going to give in any minute now and you grabbed onto the table with the experimental tools for support. You were feeling cold, way colder than you had outside in the snow and your limbs were shaking.

"Y/n, what's wrong?", you suddenly had Dottore's whole attention and he looked at you with a serious expression. Your vision got blurry and you lost your sense of balance, tumbling backwards. Thankfully Dottore caught you before you could get hurt by the fall.

Fading in and out of consciousness, you couldn't respond to anything the harbinger said. You didn't witness how he snapped at his assistants and clones to grab the medical supplies and prepare a room for you to rest in.

He just left the subject on the table and told some of the remaining assistants to finish the experiment, excusing himself to one of the side rooms to run some tests on your condition.

A part of him worries that seeing the experiment had caused you distress; that it was too much for you to handle and that he was the cause of the state you were in

When he found out the cause of your condition was dehydration and exhaustion from all the work you've done for the Fatui, he scolds you for not taking better care of yourself but his voice is laced with worry. The assistants exchange some questioning glances because they never thought they'd see the cruel scientist tend to another person like this.

The "medical supplies" his clone brings consist of a single first aid kit and a couple of medications that are dusty and were buried in the lowest drawer of his supply chamber. Yeah.....Dottore has not used that in ages.

Needless to say all the infusions were expired

Basically snaps at his assistants to get the necessary equipment and threatens to turn them into ruin machines if they aren't back in 5 minutes at maximum.

So basically these people are running for their lives through the palace trying to find your medical supplies.

Meanwhile Dottore sits on a chair next to the hospital bed he put you on and wraps his coat tighter around you as he notices how much you're still shaking. "It'll be better soon", he says quietly and caresses your cheek to comfort you, "I'm sorry for yelling just now. I hope this didn't make it worse."

He'll let you lean onto him and rubs your back gently.

All the softness in his expression instantly disappears when his assistants enter the room again. "Good. You'll get to live", he sends them an icy glare and tells them to get out of his sight as he grabs the medical supplies.

He gestures for the clone he brought to the room to sit closer to your bed as he prepares the needle for your infusion. "This may sting a little", he explains and guides the clone's arm to you, "you can squeeze his hand if you want to. Like this." He squeezes your hand gently and rubs your knuckles with his thumb before placing a kiss onto your hand.

You do as he told you and Dottore attaches the IV to your arm.

He then relocates you to a more comfortable bed in one of the empty bedrooms for the test subjects that his staff has tried to make more comfortable for you in the past 20 minutes.

Dottore takes his mask off and gives you a forehead kiss. One of his assistants barge in with a question related to the experiment and Dottore hisses "Can't you see that I'm busy, solve it on your own."

After the assistant leaves with a muttered apology, Dottore takes off his tie and vest and lays down behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest.

"Are you feeling better now?", he asks, making sure you're almost fully covered with the two blankets he got for you. You nod and he nuzzles your neck in relief. "You should rest a little, love", he kisses your cheek and holds your hand as you drift off to sleep.

Dottore always keeps an eye on the IV and your condition, removing it when you were stable enough and no longer needed it.

He hears a groan from you as you open your eyes to look into his red ones. "Did I wake you? Apologies", his voice is quiet and he presses a kiss to your lips, something he had been yearning for for hours now, before getting you a glass of water. "Make sure you drink enough", he tells you and waits while you finish drinking the whole glass.

There's a little window in the room that gives view to the lab so when he sees the lights go out, Dottore presses a kiss to your forehead and cheek.

"I'll have to make sure everything proceeded accordingly today, I'll be back in a bit. I'll be there for you if you need me though, so don't hesitate to call for me", he gives you another kiss to the lips before exiting the room

He comes back a couple of seconds later with his clone and he pushes him down onto the edge of your bed. "Here, you can hold this one if you want."

Dottore's segments all have his mindset and feelings so the ones he made after getting together with you are all desperate for your affection because Prime Dottore gets most of it. The difference is, the clone never got held before so he's very stiff in your arms but obviously enjoys every second of it.

He looks very disappointed once Prime Dottore comes back and sends him away.

Dottore gives you a deep kiss before carrying you away from the lab bridal style. He'll bring you to his room so you two can rest in a more comfortable place. He'll have someone bring you your favorite food.

"Take better care of yourself next time", he tells you and leans into your touch as you run your fingers through his hair, "I love you."

He rarely ever said these words unless he felt you wanted to hear them or when he was worried about you.

"I love you too. Thank you for taking care of me today", you reply with a smile and pull him into a kiss. He melts into your touch and kisses you back, sighing as he pulls you even closer to him.

#il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #genshin impact #dottore x you #dottore #il dottore

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buckymorelikefuckme · 1 year

Text

sweet, sugar, handyman

steve rogers x bimbo reader

words: 3.9k

warnings: **18 + ONLY** smut, light daddy dom steve, unprotected sex (don’t do that), creampie. if i missed anything pls let me know!!!

a/n: any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & welcomed <3

part 1 ❀

It's been a few days since Steve took you out on a date. Even though he got the clear and undeniable message that you would one hundred percent be down to fuck afterward, he felt that he still wanted to wine & dine you more first. He wanted to work for it; earn it, so to speak. So when the date was done and he opened the door to the cab he hailed for you, he only kissed you goodnight. Admittedly, it did turn into a little bit of a make-out session, which only stopped because the cabbie cleared his throat pointedly.

You were absolutely not making it easy for him though. In the span of four days, you’ve made every possible innuendo when given the chance, and sometimes even said outright explicit things to him. Steve is losing his goddamn mind. He's beginning to question why he’s so hellbent on being a gentleman.

Even at work he’s not able to concentrate. He's had to restock the same shelves three times now because he keeps putting the wrong items in the wrong places.

He’s grumbling under his breath about how fucking pathetic he is when he gets a whiff of your perfume and immediately stiffens.

“Hey there, big boy.”

He has to shut his eyes at the sound of your voice. It’s just so…

“What’s a girl gotta do to get some good hardware around here, huh?”

Teasing. Your voice is sexy, no doubt, and cute in the worst way, but above all it’s teasing. Steve can hear your smile as you speak. He takes a calming breath before slowly turning to meet your siren stare. He doesn't feel any calmer when he gets a look at you.

Your hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, the ends curling upward adorably. Unsurprisingly, your makeup is beautiful, highlighting your features perfectly, and your outfit is nothing short of incredible. You’ve got a cute, little strapless sundress on—pink, of course—with tiny flowers all over, leaving your collarbones and shoulders on display. Steve’s mouth waters, his desire to bite and mark the skin rushing to the forefront of his mind.

A sweet grin spreads across your glossed lips the longer he stares at you like an idiot.

“Steve?”

He blinks, coming back to the present. “Hi,” he finally says.

You giggle. “Hi.”

He clears his throat. “What, um… What brings you here?”

“I’m looking for some tools,” you reply, putting emphasis on the last word in a way that puts Steve on guard right away.

“Well,” he starts, clinging to his sanity, “you’re certainly in the right place.”

You smirk. “Do you think I could get my hands on your tools then?”

Steve curses under his breath and you're giggling again, making him feel a confusing mix of endeared and aroused.

“Why do you do that?”

Steve does not whine. And he didn't whine just now. Nobody can prove it and nobody would believe it.

“Because you make it so easy and it's fun to see you get all flushed,” you answer honestly.

He tries to glare, but even he can tell it's weak. You step into his space, curling your fingers in the belt loops at the front of his jeans, right above his groin, peering up at him through your fluttery lashes. Suddenly, his palms are sweating.

“Steve?” you start softly. He hums in reply, not trusting his voice. “Will you come over tonight?”

“Tonight? To–for what?”

You smile innocently. “I’m not allowed to want to spend time with you?”

He swallows roughly. “N-No, you are, I just… Do I—Should I bring anything?”

You tilt your head as you pretend to think. “You're a handyman, yes?” At his hesitant nod, you grin. “Then all I need is you and your big hands.”

Ah, shit. Steve is in for some trouble, isn't he?

You lean up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He barely resists letting out a groan when your breasts brush his chest. Now he knows you're not wearing a bra because he can feel your nipples through your dress.

“See you later.”

“Uh huh,” he replies dazedly.

Yeah… He’s in deep shit.

Steve fiddles with the sleeves of his black henley, the cellophane encasing the bouquet of daffodils in his clammy grip crinkling noisily as he shuffles awkwardly on your doorstep. Inhale for three, exhale for three.

He knocks and waits. It only takes a moment for you to open the door. And then Steve’s stomach promptly attempts to fall out of his ass.

You're wearing a skintight, blood red mini dress, sleeveless and low cut enough to show off your ample cleavage. Your legs, toned and perfect, look positively sinful. You've got on a matching pair of strappy heels, and there, on one of your cute toes, sits a gold toe ring. Why that detail makes his heart race faster is beyond him. Your hair falls in soft waves around your face.

You're glowing as you lean your hand against the doorframe. Steve's never seen you in red before, but damn you wear it well.

“Wow,” he whispers.

You bite your lip to tamp down on your smile. “Thanks. You're pretty wow yourself.” You step aside. “Come on in, handsome.”

There's just enough space for him to squeeze past you. He gets a whiff of your perfume and, fuck, you smell divine. It's not your usual soft perfume that he's gotten used to already; it's something slightly darker, spicier. It makes his cock twitch in his jeans.

“Are those for me?” you wonder as you shut the door, gesturing at the bouquet.

“Oh,” he says, thrusting them towards you, “Um, yes. For you.”

You take them with a small smile. “Thank you. They're beautiful.”

“So are you,” Steve mumbles shyly.

He's pretty sure he notes the tiniest, pleased curl of your lips and counts it as a win.

You go about putting them in a vase, arranging them just so before placing them on the kitchen counter. Steve watches you flit about your home and something warm spreads throughout his body. When you're not flustering him and making him stumble over his words and feet, you're pretty fucking cute.

“Would you like something to drink? Wine? Water?”

“Water would be great,” he replies

He accepts the glass with a nod of thanks after you hand it to him, taking a sip then sitting it on the table beside him. You stare at each other, Steve assessing while you're happy to just look.

“Why did you invite me over?” he questions.

You shrug. “I wanted to spend time with you.”

Slowly, Steve shakes his head, walking over to you with his hands in his pockets.

“Bullshit,” he accuses. “That's not the whole reason.”

“I'm not sure what you mean,” you respond defiantly.

He backs you into the counter, hearing your light gasp and feels his lips twitch. “Don't act coy,” he admonishes. “You didn't wear this dress to sit on your couch and watch a movie.”

He trails a finger along your side, down the fabric of your dress, then toys with the hem of it. He's not sure where this burst of confidence is coming from, but he's going to go with the flow and see where it takes him.

“No, you chose to wear this to drive me crazy. You couldn't just wait a little bit longer.” Your breathing picks up, eyes becoming heavy-lidded as he speaks. “Do I need to teach you how to be patient?”

You remain silent as you hold his gaze, seemingly at a loss.

“What, no smartass remarks? That's a first. This is what you wanted, isn't it? You want me to give in and fuck you like the needy little slut you are, yeah?”

A short, choked off noise escapes you, your expression shocked, and Steve smirks in satisfaction.

“Not so fun on that side of it, huh?” he teases.

You clear your throat and try to gather yourself. “It's not that bad. Maybe you're just a pussy.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “You're really testing me. I’m starting to think you want more than just a quick fuck. I think you might need to be bent over my knee and taught a lesson.”

“Fuck, Steve…”

You grab his hand and hurriedly walk out of the kitchen, leading him down the hall. You open a door at the end of it without stopping. Steve finds himself in your bedroom, which is just as frilly and pink as he imagined. You whirl around after you reach your bed, facing him with determination and lust in your eyes.

“I wonder if it's all talk, or if you can actually deliver,” you goad, though your voice does waver.

It's clear you're trying to get a rise out of him, and he would absolutely hate to disappoint you.

“Careful what you wish for.”

In a blink, he's got you wrapped in his arms, lips lightly grazing your neck and shoulder. Your hands fly up to squeeze his biceps as you begin squirming. He presses a whisper of a kiss to your collarbone, smiling at the way you try to push into it more. His lips trail up to your ear where he briefly tugs on your earlobe with his teeth. You whine, tilting your head back to give him more access, but he only lets his breath fan out across your skin for a moment, watching goosebumps appear before pulling back entirely.

“What—” you start, frowning, trying to pull him back to where he was.

“Do you have a safeword?”

You swallow thickly. “I like the color system.”

He nods. “What's your color now?”

“So fucking green, Steve, please just fuck me—”

“You need to learn patience,” he decides. “I'm gonna take my time, gonna explore every inch of your beautiful, sacred body, and you're going to lie there and take it like a good girl. Understood?”

You nod, but that's not what Steve wants. He grips your chin, his fingers and thumb pressing into your cheeks.

“I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. Use your words.”

You exhale shakily. “Understood.”

Steve grins, letting go. “That's a good girl.” You let out a quiet moan. “Now. Where should I begin, hm? Part of me wants to rip this dress right off of you, but another part of me doesn't want to ruin something so stunning.”

You fidget under his observation. He's sure your cheeks are warm beneath your beloved pink blush you always wear. His eyes finally settle on your collarbones, remembering earlier that day and how he wanted to mark them. Without a word, he pushes the straps of your dress down your arms. Then he runs his thumb along the jut of bone, reverent, wondering how and why he got so lucky.

He leans down and attaches his mouth to your skin, sucking and licking and biting until he's positive blood has rushed to the surface under his ministrations. Your small hands are clutching at the sides of his shirt as you moan. And damn, that's a sound he's already growing fond of.

He switches to the other side, biting a matching mark on that collarbone, then decides it's not enough and moves up to the point where your shoulder meets your neck and sucks a mark there too. By the time he's done you're panting and wriggling in a way that tells him you're searching for relief.

“Take the straps off all the way, but don't take the dress off,” he instructs. You're quick to obey and he hums, pleased, when you wait for further direction. “Such a good girl.”

You nod. “Yes.”

As a reward, he pulls down the cups of the dress, exposing your tits to the cool air of your room and watching in delight as your nipples harden. He brushes his thumbs over them, smirking when you twitch and whimper.

“Does my little slut want my mouth on her tits?” he asks as he continues playing with them.

“Yes, please,” you rush to say, “Please, daddy.”

Your mouth snaps shut with an audible click. It's clear you hadn't meant to let that slip.

He pauses, raising his eyebrows. “Daddy? Oh baby, I should've known.” You whine at his mocking tone. “Don't you worry, sweetheart, daddy will take good care of you. Sit down for me.”

Despite your embarrassment, you do as you're told and sit on your bed. Steve kneels on the floor in front of you, pulling you to the edge of the mattress so your tits are directly in his face.

“So soft. So pretty,” he murmurs, cupping them in his hands.

He takes one nipple into his mouth and you let out a high pitched whine, hands coming up to bury themselves in his hair. He gives your nipple the same treatment your collarbones received, sucking harshly and flicking his tongue back and forth. Abruptly, he shifts to the other side, not giving you a chance to catch up. You tug roughly at his hair as you push your chest closer and closer to him.

He pulls off, blowing across your spit-covered breasts, seeing you shiver and whine with a twisted sense of gratification. With a sudden urgency, he determines he needs his mouth on your pussy now. He spreads your legs and pushes up the hem of your dress at the same time. If he wasn't already on his knees, he'd have fallen to them when he sees you're not wearing panties.

“What a naughty, naughty girl,” he chides, voice gruff.

Your pussy glistens with your wetness and you start squirming as he stares.

“Please,” you gasp.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he wonders and meets your desperate gaze.

“Daddy, please, want your mouth.”

He tilts his head. “Where, baby?” You whine again, fingers twitching where they still rest in his hair. He runs his forefinger down your wet slit and you cry out. “Here? You want daddy there?”

“Yes! Please, daddy,” you beg, hips trying to meet his hand.

Steve hums. “I don't know, sweetheart. You weren't wearing any panties. Is that something good girls do?”

You whimper, brows furrowing as you bite your lip and shake your head.

“Think I’m gonna have to spank you, after all.”

“Daddy—”

“Are you gonna be a good girl or not, sweetheart? I can stop here.”

He definitely cannot, but you don't seem to be in the mindset to call his bluff. You whimper loudly.

“No, no, please, I'll be good, daddy, I promise!”

“Color?” he checks in.

“Green,” you reply, eager and breathless.

He grins. “Alright, sweetheart, up you go.”

He rises to his feet and helps you stand before taking your place on the mattress. He pats at his lap, raising an expectant brow. You only hesitate for a second, carefully draping yourself across his lap, making a small noise when you feel his erection pressing into your stomach.

“How many spanks do you think I should give you? Three? Five? Ten?”

You fist your blanket tightly. “However many daddy thinks is appropriate.”

He coos. “Look at that. You can be a good girl. I'll do five this time, okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper.

“Count them out for me,” he directs as he pushes your dress up past your hips, swiping his large hand over your plump ass.

He lifts his hand and brings it back down in a firm smack. With a wicked grin, he watches your ass jiggle with the impact. The only sound you let out is a small gasp.

“One,” you mutter shakily.

Each time he spanks you, he soothes the sting by softly rubbing his hand along your heated flesh.

As he lands his fifth and final spank he's almost upset to be finished. But then he pulls your ass cheek to the side and leans over to look at your dripping pussy, and his mouth waters with want.

“Five,” you whine, squirming, fists clenching and unclenching.

Steve hums. “Perfect.”

“Daddy…”

“I know, darlin’, I know,” he coos.

He maneuvers your pliant body until you're on your back, legs dangling off the edge as he makes himself comfortable between them again.

“Since you were good for me, I’ll give you a reward,” he murmurs, pushing your thighs apart and back so you're on full display for him.

You're already writhing on your bed and he hasn't even touched you properly. It makes his cock throb where it's pressing against his zipper. God, he wants to fuck you, and he fully plans on it, but he has to taste you first or he’ll go crazy.

With that thought in mind, he leans in and sucks on your clit, making you inhale sharply and arch your back. He kisses your pussy sloppily, letting your wetness coat his tongue. He groans deep in his chest; you taste unlike any other and he's on the fast-track to becoming addicted.

“Daddy,” you whine, tugging at his hair, “daddy, please, please fuck me.”

He ignores you for a moment, thrusting his tongue in and out of you, bringing his fingers down to rub messily at your clit. You cry out, a sob forcing itself out of you.

“Steve,” you plead.

Reluctantly, and with a final suck and lick, he pulls his mouth away from your delicious cunt. He stands to his full height and quickly removes his clothes, eyes never leaving your prone form. The way you're spread out is indecent, downright sinful, and the way your stare is already going glazed makes his spine tingle.

When he shoves his boxer briefs down and frees his cock, he sighs in relief. You moan at the sight of it, spreading your legs even wider.

Steve gives you a half grin, stroking himself, “Want daddy’s cock, sweetheart?” You nod, which makes him raise an eyebrow in expectance. “Words, darlin’. Use them.”

“Yes, please,” you whimper.

“Please what?” he taunts, joining you on the bed, manhandling you so that your legs are no longer hanging off.

He makes no move to finish removing your dress or your heels.

“Please, daddy,” you groan.

“Good girl,” he intones. He kisses the inside of one of your knees. “Condom.”

You lick your lips, biting them anxiously. “Can I… I wanna feel daddy’s cum drip out of me,” you whisper, your eyelids getting heavier.

“Jesus,” Steve exhales. “Are you sure? Color?”

“Green, it's green,” you assure quickly.

You're gonna be the death of him.

He pushes two fingers in your cunt without warning and you whine, long and loud enough that he wonders if your neighbors can hear. Part of him hopes they can.

“Mm, so tight with only two of my fingers inside you,” he observes, teasing, “Are you sure you can take my cock?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, “Please, daddy. Wanna feel you split me open, wanna feel full.”

He groans. “Fuck, baby. You're not just a slut, are you? You're a cockslut. A greedy one at that.”

“Yes, yeah, ‘m a cockslut,” you hurriedly agree, “your little cockslut.”

The flare of possessiveness that spreads throughout him is sudden and ignites his desires even more.

“Mine, huh? I like the sound of that.”

He teases the head of his cock along your slit, loving the way you squirm and whimper but still wait so patiently. Finally, he takes mercy on you and pushes in. Your mouth falls open on a silent moan, your eyebrows scrunching together in the sweetest way. Steve groans deep in his chest as he sinks deeper and deeper into your tight, wet heat. When his hips are flush against yours, he only waits a beat before pulling out and thrusting right back in, setting an immediate, steady rhythm that has your knees hiking higher and higher on either side of him.

You're restless with pleasure, unable to be still, head tossing from side to side, hands grappling at nothing and everything. Steve is so big inside you, hitting all the right spots, plus some you didn't even know about. A constant flow of moans, whimpers, and pleas fall from your bitten lips. A light sheen of sweat covers your neck and chest, your nipples hardened into peaks.

“God, you feel so good,” Steve grunts, watching the way his cock slides in and out of you.

You nod in agreement. “My–oh–my pussy was m-made for you,” you whine. “Fit me just right, daddy, fuck! Never… Never had anyone feel this perfect.”

“Yeah? Is daddy ruining you for everybody else?” Steve goads.

“Yes! Yes, daddy, don't want anyone else, ever, please,” you beg, hips twitching up into his next thrust.

Your heels bite into the skin on Steve’s back, but he welcomes the pain. He wants to wear your marks just as much as he wants you to wear his. He thrusts into you harder, loving the way your back arches beneath him, the way your tits bounce with the movement.

You're about a million percent sure if Steve changed the position now you'd punch him in the throat, but you're also just as sure that he knows this, if the way he's looking at you is any indication. His eyes are sparkling, lips tilted up on one side. The apples of his cheeks are pink from exertion, and it makes you bite your lip.

Steve cups his hands under your knees, pushing them up and open more, adjusting the angle of his thrusts just so and making you nearly scream.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you chant, “Steve, daddy, fuck!”

He grins at your babbling, feeling you clench around him as you near your climax. He's not far behind, heat pooling in his lower abdomen quickly. He lets go of your legs, letting them drop to his sides, reaching down to hold your pussy lips open as he spits on your clit. A ragged moan comes from you at the action. Wondering how far he can push, Steve lightly slaps your clit, and fuck. You cry out and clench around him so tight he has to pause.

“Again, again, please, daddy, do that again, don't stop,” you ramble, words blurring together.

Steve does it again. And again. And again. Until you're clamping down on his cock, body locking up as your orgasm hits, your breath halting. But then you're jerking, letting out a throaty gasp, followed by long whines as you ride out what's got to be an intense high. The sight alone is enough to bring Steve to completion, grinding into you as his cock throbs and releases inside you. He groans, closing his eyes, feeling beyond sated and happy.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

Steve huffs a laugh. “Agreed.”

He looks down at you and you’re the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Your hair is splayed out messily around your face, some pieces sticking to your clammy cheeks and forehead, the sheen of sweat making you glow in the low light of your bedroom. Your eyes are still heavy-lidded, but you're smiling in complete bliss, arms stretching above you.

“That was incredible,” you rasp. Your smile goes wonky. “Thank you, daddy.”

His cock twitches where it's still buried inside you and you giggle.

“You're a menace,” he accuses, the gentle way he brushes your hair off your face softening the accusation.

You preen. “Yep! But you like me anyway.”

Steve sighs heavily. “God help me, I do.”

#TA-DAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!#avengers fic #marvel fic #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you

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ctitan98official · 5 months

Text

@ghost-with-a-teacup : Hello! I've never made a request before but I absolutely adore your works, hehe. I'm popping in after reading your latest post about Y/N almost dying after saving the daughters, and you talked about them getting the cadou. I was just wondering if you could write something building off of that prompt; something along the lines of what you think their powers would be as well as them trying to get accustomed to their new abilities with the help of Alcina and the girls? That would be wonderful! Regardless of if you write it or not, keep up the amazing work!! With how much you write I have no idea how you pump out so many ideas, truly leaves me in awe <33 (also your crackfics are fucking amazing LOL). Have a great day~

Thank you so much, friend! That was a good prompt. I had trouble deciding what I thought Y/N’s power would be, but with how mischievous they are, I decided to go with something that they would absolutely wreak havoc with lol! Post this ask is referring to here! Let’s get into it!

You had been mortally wounded trying to protect castle Dimitrescu from hunters intent on killing your loved ones.

You thought you were done for, but Alcina made the decision to try and save you by having Mother Miranda give you the cadou.

It worked. You were so happy to be back with your girls again.

You were very weak when you first woke up but Alcina took excellent care of you.

She fed you and sat with you as you slept. She was just glad you would be okay after all you had been through.

A few weeks after you began recovering, you started noticing that you could… See through things? You thought you were imagining it when it first happened, but Alcina had been sitting right in front of you when you realized you could see her panties and bra from under her dress.

You were so embarrassed that you slapped your hands over your face.

Alcina was startled at your reaction. “Draga?! What’s wrong?” She asked.

You suddenly started laughing like an idiot once you learned what you could do. “I really like that bra, babe. I don’t think I’ve seen that one on you before.” You howled.

Alcina was confused. “What are you talking about, Y/N?!” She said, somewhat weirded out.

“I can totally see through your dress, Alci.” You informed her.

“WHAT?!” She looked down frantically, but her dress was not revealing anything. “Y/N, if this is another of your silly pranks-”

"I can prove it, Alci!” You exclaimed. You focused your attention on the book Alcina had next to her. “Hand me that book, babe!” You asked her.

Alcina was skeptical but gave you the book.

You concentrated very hard and, without opening the book, you were able to read the words on the inside pages.

Alcina’s eyes went wide with shock. “Draga! That must be an acquired skill from the cadou!” She said and brought a hand to her mouth in shock.

You cheered before you thought about something upsetting. “Ew! What if I accidentally see through Karl or Sal’s clothes! Blech, what about Duke or some rando?!” You said, horrified.

Alcina chuckled. “Well, draga. I guess that’s payback for all of the trouble you’ve ever caused.”

You cringed and screamed. “AHH! What if I accidentally see through the girls’ dresses?!” You said. You wanted to claw your eyeballs out.

Alcina didn’t find that part to be as funny. It was mutually decided that you would stay at Karl’s factory until you had better control of your powers. Better to be safe than sorry.

Karl was actually a good teacher. He had trained himself to be able to control his metal powers and he had tips to share with you.

After a few days with Karl, you discovered that you had another power. You were able to make yourself completely invisible!

You pranked and scared the shit out of him a couple of times until he got so mad that he kicked you out. Luckily, you had a pretty good grasp of your powers now.

You returned home to the castle and immediately went to go see Alcina… Well, you may have made yourself invisible first.

When you went into Alcina’s bedroom, you almost busted out laughing when you saw her practicing her smoke rings. She looked so focused and cute.

You snuck up beside her, and said “Boo.”

Alcina shrieked and almost fell back in her chair. Her hat went flying.

You started laughing crazily and made yourself visible again. “Sorry, babe! Couldn’t resist!” You said through your wheezing.

When I tell you Alcina bitch-smacked you so hard, smh. It didn’t hurt, though. You had also acquired heightened healing abilities and stronger skin like the rest of The Lords.

She questioned where you came from and you told her that you were able to make yourself invisible too.

Alcina groaned when she realized that these powers could not have been given to a worse person.

For as much of a troublemaker as you are, though, you keep your pranks with your X-ray vision and invisibility to a minimum. It was just too easy to prank someone that way. You were better than that and took your self-designated title of Prank Master seriously.

And yes, you could totally see, not only though Alcina’s dress, but through her bra and panties too, now. You use that particular skill on her a little bit too much.

Masterlist

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these-written-reveries · 8 months

Note

ok but like, the post you reblogged with the pics of ledger putting the makeup on,, imagine you and J getting ready for the day and sharing the bathroom together while he's putting his makeup on. idk just sounds cute and domestic uwu 💖

Omg nonnie, I was literally thinking these thoughts the moment I saw those pics! I knew I had to write them down, so here ya go! 💖

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Getting Ready With J (Headcanons)

*Inspired by this post

‣ Pairing: Ledger!Joker/Jack Napier x GN!Reader

‣ Genre: fluff, domestic bliss w/cute deadly clown man

‣ Warnings: None!

‣ Notes: Besides the rare occasion of J spreading some daytime chaos across the city of Gotham, most of his work would be done at night. Because of that, I don't think he would always feel the need to put on his makeup early in the day if he's just gonna be at home—especially after he's reached a point of being able to drop his mask around you (literally & figuratively). That said, I can see this situation playing out in 2 different ways...

L!Joker/Jack Napier Masterlist

Main Masterlist

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

« Scenario 1: » ♡ He and you get ready together in the morning/afternoon.

‣ Maybe you have work or some errands to run, or you're simply getting ready to spend the day lounging comfortably at home.

‣ As for J, he has some important "business" to attend to.

‣ The two of you start by brushing your teeth together, J trying to make you laugh the whole time just to watch you struggle not to spit toothpaste everywhere. He gets a good kick out of this, a shit eating grin on his face as he continues to brush his teeth.

‣ You both share the counter space, your self-care items scattered around as you carry on with your routines. There are very little words spoken during this time, but you still communicate through your own secret language; sometimes being able to read each other's minds just by sharing a simple glance.

‣ You both know each other's routine so well that you hand each other the items you need next before either of you ask for it.

‣ On days where J is particularly clingy, he's glued to your side, having such a strong need to be touching you at all times—even if this means just barely touching arms while you get ready in the mirror.

‣ If your daily routine includes brushing your hair, he totally enjoys doing this for you. So much so that he's now in the habit of grabbing your brush and gently running it through your hair while you do something else. He often takes a little longer than necessary, but that's only because he loves to feel the beautiful texture of your hair.

‣ You sneakily give each other occasional kisses on the cheek or anywhere your lips can reach as you continue getting ready. You always love to see the small blush that creeps over J's bare face in the mirror after you've given him a smooch and maybe a gentle caress on his back that just happened to drift a bit lower 😉

‣ Sometimes you play music together while you get ready. A playlist of songs both you and him like. He loves it when you sing or dance to your favorite songs, or even to some of his favorite songs that have started to grow on you too. If you're quick about it, you might be able to catch him looking at you fondly through the mirror just before he looks away and pretends to be focused on something else. Depending on his mood that day, you might get to hear him hum along to some songs as well.

‣ If you wear makeup, you also do this part together. If not, you sit on the counter or hug him from behind while he does his own (he much prefers the latter).

‣ If you ask, he'll definitely let you do his makeup for him. He loves to just sit back, relax, and soak up your touch during this time. He particularly enjoys the part where you draw the smile over his lips and scars with red lipstick and the concentrated look on your face while you do it.

‣ Beware to makeup wearers, Jack will steal your red lipstick if he's suddenly run out or lost his! And he's definitely not gentle with his application. But it's alright, he'll steal buy you a new one!

‣ If you choose to sit back and watch, you'll witness him create his personal masterpiece with nothing but some lipstick, greasepaint, and his fingers. He only uses one brush and that is to dab on a little bit of setting powder at the end (a trick he learned, thanks to you), though if he's in a rush, he'll sometimes skip this part. After doing it for so long, it takes him less than 5 minutes. But he'll often go slower just so he can spend some extra time with his love.

‣ When he's all done, he chases you out of the bathroom, threatening to cover your face with sloppy red kisses. In the end, he settles for a small peck on the lips before the two of you part ways for the day.

« Scenario 2: » ♡ Darkness has settled over Gotham city, which means it's time for J to clock in.

‣ You're already settling down for the evening when J gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. You're right on his tail, following in his footsteps. He smirks when he realizes and playfully comes to a halt, just to get you to bump into him. When you whine/pout over this, he coos teasingly at you and gives you a kiss on the forehead before taking your hand and leading you the rest of the way there.

‣ You perch yourself on the counter or the toilet while he sits in a chair in front of the mirror. You watch him work, admiring the focused look in his eyes and the way he contorts his face to apply the paint to his skin.

‣ He occasionally glances over at you and scoffs at the heart-eyes you're giving him.

‣ Don't you dare give him a flirty compliment unless you want to see him roll his eyes and brush it off all while trying to hide his flustered smile (do it, do it, do it).

‣ The two of you talk about whatever is on your minds and J finds himself lingering on the black around his eyes for far longer than usual just to keep listening to your sweet voice.

‣ Once again, if you ask, he'll let you finish his makeup for him. This time he'll have you sit in his lap while you do it, giving your thighs a light squeeze and running his thumbs over your soft skin.

‣ Upon finishing, you press a little kiss to the tip of his nose and fix his hair a bit. He watches you with a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, reaching up to cup your face in his hands. You stop what you're doing as he pulls you in for a kiss that speaks on behalf of words left unspoken.

♡ J loves you. And he cherishes these little moments with you more than you know.

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

‣ Have an idea for a fic you’d like me to write? Send a request here. But first, make sure to read my Request Info!

‣ If you’d like to join the taglist for L!Joker/Jack Napier, or be tagged in all of my future writings, let me know by sending me an ask/message!

‣ Taglist: @jslittlebirdie @alittlesmartcookie

#ledger!joker #ledger!joker x reader #ledger!joker x y/n #ledger!joker fanfiction #ledger!joker fluff #joker x reader #joker x y/n #joker fanfiction #jack napier #jack napier x reader #jack napier x y/n #jack napier fanfiction #ledger!joker headcanons #jack napier headcanons #l!joker #k.answers #kalistawrites

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hungry-tum-stuff · 7 days

Note

if you’re doing them: "Well, if you're good, I guess you won't mind holding down the fort while the rest of us grab some pizza…"

Important bit of context: Dante is a monster hunter

Dante sighed and rubbed his temples as Buck and his buddies yelled at the game on their TV again, clearly audible through the door to their bedroom. They’d been out there all afternoon watching football, cheering and booing and yelling at the referee as if they were in the stands.

And Dante had been in his and Buck’s bedroom all day, trying to find any sort of break in the case he was working on. Dozens of birds had been found impaled on tree branches in the local woods, sending the town into a tizzy. And seeing as the police and local wildlife experts were stumped on what was happening, Dante figured he’d take a crack at it. Sure, it could just be some freaky teenagers pulling a prank, but it could also be a local witch up to no good, or worse, an omen. And he really didn’t feel like taking any chances.

But he’d hardly been able to get any research done with Buck and company outside. It had been impossible to focus with all the noise, and he’d been at this for hours but he didn’t have a single thing to show for it.

Dante’s stomach grumbled and he pressed a hand against it, frowning as he tried to regain his focus. That was partly why he’d been unable to focus on research; he hadn’t eaten all day. Granted, he could have gotten something from the kitchen this whole time, but that would mean being pulled into a conversation with Buck and his friends that he lacked the social skills to get out of. So in favor of his work, he had neglected his belly.

The living room behind the door erupted into cheers suddenly, followed by excited chatter. Not long after, Buck pushed open the door and crossed the room to plant a kiss on his partner’s head, and Dante smiled.

“You win?”

“We sure as shit did.” Buck said excitedly. “They had us on the ropes but we got ourselves a touchdown at the very last second. Anyways, me and the guys are headed out for pizza, you wanna come along?”

Dante’s stomach rumbled quietly, begging him to take a break and eat something. But he shook his head. Buck frowned.

“Aw c’mon, you been in this same spot since this morning. You’ve gotta be hungry…” Buck’s hands slid down towards Dante’s belly, but he swatted them away quickly.

“I’m fine, Buck. I haven’t gotten anywhere in all this, I gotta stay here.”

“This still that bird thing?” Buck leaned over to look at what Dante was up to, and as he did, Dante’s stomach growled faintly. Buck glanced down towards the noise, then back up at his blushing partner.

“You’re not gonna get nowhere on an empty tank, y’know.”

“Buck, I’m good, really.” Dante snapped, hunching down over his work, partly to get Buck off his case and partly to fold in his belly so it would shut the hell up. “You can go without me, just leave me alone and let me get this done.”

Buck stood back up straight and put his hands on his hips. “Well someone’s grouchy. But fine, if you’re good then I guess you won’t mind holdin’ down the fort while the rest of us are out eatin’ pizza.”

Dante didn’t respond, but his stomach groaned pleadingly. Buck waited for a moment for Dante to change his mind and come along for pizza, but when he didn’t, he sighed and shook his head.

“I’ll bring you some back.” He said, leaving and closing the door behind him.

But unfortunately, even with Buck gone Dante was having more trouble concentrating than before. He’d just been reminded of how hungry he was, and he’d just snapped at his boyfriend. After a few moments of reading the same sentence over and over again, his guilt and hunger bubbled over and got him out of his chair.

As soon as he opened the door, Buck’s friends cheered upon seeing him, and Buck smiled faintly as Dante walked over to meet them just as they were heading out the door.

“I’m sorry.” Dante said quietly.

“I know, you were just hangry. There’s a way to fix that, y’know.”

Dante rolled his eyes as he plopped into the passenger seat beside Buck. “Quit being a smartass and drive.”

#buck and dante #again!#thank you for the ask #!#sfw hunger kink #tummy kink #stomach growling #hunger kink #tummy #belly kink #original characters

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jakkon-and-rose-topic · 2 months

Text

Cw: Mentions to graphic... sickness, blood, shaking, withdrawals in general, stuff like that, Swearing

By agonizing withdrawals, I mean agonizing. Be warned

(Please leave comments I love reading them, even if it's just a simple oof or F in the chat for this poor man - No he isn't dead)

-------------------------------------------

Jakkon stumbled and leaned heavily against the wall with a soft groan. He needed something, anything. It hurt. It hurt far worse than he'd expected. The Satyr gasped through his teeth, breaths shuddering with every movement as his throat tightened and his lungs shattered in his ribs.

He held onto the rock as best as he could, other hand gripping the fabric of his shirt over his chest as pain pulsed like a fiery heart beneath his skin. “Shit…” Jakkon looked up, gritting his teeth as he tried to level his ragged breaths. He needed to see the others. If not, they might suspect something was wrong. He needed to piece it back together and stand up straight. He could do that. He could handle pain. He could ignore it. He'd done it plenty of times before to fool Rose out of burning herself out. He could do it again.

Jakkon shook the hair out of his face and steadied himself. He managed a level step and quiet breaths, but he funneled all of his efforts into staying upright and could hardly find the control to keep his hands from shaking. A tugging dread crawled through his mind as his fake optimism began to crumble. What if he couldn't do this? What if it killed him? What if he hurt someone?

The Satyr shook his head as he forced an uneven smile and directed his attention to appearing fine. But despite all of his efforts, his heart raced and his focus slipped away. He stepped into the doorway of the main cavern and hesitated.

But before he could rethink his decision, Rose waved with a smile. “Good morning Horns!”

“Morning.” He nodded to her, slipping his hands behind his back as he trotted over and sat down beside her.

“Are you alright? You're awake later than usual.” The Fae raised an eyebrow.

“I’m alright. I will be. Do you have any tea, water, or something like that?”

Rose stopped for a moment, but Morena smiled at him from beyond her. “I do. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes please.” The Satyr smiled gratefully, finally able to let go of the concentration and effort it took to stand, hoping desperately that if he had something to drink, it might loosen the claws of pain digging into his skin from every angle.

“Here.” Morena smiled warmly as she pushed a cup of tea toward him.

The Satyr lifted the cup to his lips as gently as he could. It didn’t help as much as he’d hoped, but it did enough, taking his mind off of the pain for a moment. But the relief only lasted for a moment, as a sudden stab of new agony shot through his shoulder and an intense wave of nausea hit him like a rock.

He flinched, pulling back from the table. “Ah…F- I… I should go.”

“What? Horns! Horns are you okay?” Rose stood quickly.

Jakkon groaned in pain. “Yes… I’m… Fuck, ow, no! No, I’m not okay. Shit…”

Rose’s eyes widened and she started to move toward him, but worry sparked into his eyes as he noticed Rose’s desperate terror and instinctively pulled back to avoid hurting her, standing suddenly in an attempt to back away further. But the sudden motion finally snapped the last string holding him upright and he collapsed against the table, shaking.

“Shit! Fuck! Morena! Get Finn!” Rose tensed, vaulting over the table as Jakkon’s body shrank in on itself and fell to the ground, leaving him to convulse on the stone floor, as Rose began to panic, searching for something to do.

But as she froze, he coughed, blood beginning to foam from his mouth as his body began to shake and jerk violently. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Rose began to hyperventilate as she ripped the coat from her shoulders and shoved it under his head as a hope that it would help prevent any damage from the stones beneath him as her wings flapped and bright orange Roses rained petals so thick it covered both of them. His hands twitched, fingers gripping at nothing in the air as his entire body tensed and shook with him.

Finn and Morena rushed back into the room. Finn lunged for Rose, eyes widening in horror as he caught a glimpse of what was going on. The harpy pulled her back into the hallway, away from what was going on. Rose resisted his hold, screaming and clawing at his arms as she shrieked for her brother-in-law, terrified beyond anything she’d ever felt before.

Finn closed his eyes, trying to shut out Rose's desperate screams as her nails dug into his skin, just like Jakkon when Eveny had died. Fighting and screaming with all his will to save her, now Rose for him. Though she didn't fight like he had. She fought for her brother, for the last thing she had left.

Find the rest Here

@agirlandherquill @aestheic-writer18 @aalinaaaaaa @cybercelestian @corinneglass @bifluidmax08 @leotheponderer @rivenantiqnerd @kia-is-poisoned @thelazywitchphotographer @baconandeggs-25 @i-hate-happy-endings @ajgrey9647 @carosbee @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @wisteria-whump

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Star Child 16

And it’s done. Holy freaking shit, guys. I can’t believe it. It’s done. Thank you so much to everyone who commented, reblogged and liked this story. I’m so happy for the response it’s gotten and I will personally miss this little story.

Steve gets his happily ever after

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

***

Steve and Luke were in the studio within days of their meeting and it took everything in Steve’s power not to giggle uncontrollably every time they agreed on something.

Soon they managed to hash out a really great song that Steve would feature on but it would be The Struts playing. Hell, even though it would be a non-album single Steve was still over the moon.

Suddenly Steve was in a room with all of the members of the band and he had to squeal into a pillow after they left. Because holy shit, this was his life now.

He was also grateful the distraction it supplied. He missed Eddie. Like a gaping wound, but this allowed him to concentrate on something other then the overwhelming loneliness he felt.

It took them three weeks to get the song recorded and they talked about when it should be released. Steve of course wanted to release it now, but cooler heads prevailed and it would be released in a couple of months toward the end of summer.

It would give the buzz around Steve’s coming out time to die down and give Steve more time to record his own songs and release one of the solo songs first. So that fans got a taste of Steve’s style without someone else.

It made sense. But Steve was still a little bummed that it wouldn’t come out for a while.

The final night of recording Steve went out with The Struts and had a good time. With invitations for Steve to hang out with them in London if he was ever in town.

Steve was practically vibrating out of his skin.

“Can you please breathe?” Robin asked as she applied eyeliner to her eyes. “What I’m doing over here is dangerous and I swear you’re going to start bouncing around the room.”

Steve ran his fingers through his hair again and sat down hard on the bed. He flopped backwards, arms out spread. “I get to see Eddie for the first time in five weeks and time is deliberately standing still.”

She tsked at him and finished her makeup. She went over to the bed and kicked his foot.

He sat up and looked her up and down. She was wearing a blue button up with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows with a plaid vest and matching tie. She wore baggy slacks over sexy heels and her hair and makeup were artfully messy.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Looking good, Robs. Chrissy is going to faint.”

Robin giggled. “I hope not, I don’t think I would be able to catch her in these heels.”

Steve cocked his head and then nodded. “Fair enough.”

She reached over and played with a strand of his hair. “I still can’t believe Eddie gave you the go ahead to chop off it all off.”

He laughed. “I didn’t chop it all off. I just shaved the sides. It’s just as long as it’s always been on top. Add some fun blond highlights, and I think it looks great.”

Robin smiled. “And it does, honest. I just would have thought that Eddie would have put up more of a fight over it, considering how long his hair is.”

“Now that is a no go,” Steve said firmly. “He’s not allowed to have it shorter than his shoulders. He pulled his hair back once so that he could write with it wet and he looked like a completely different person, Robs. It was freaky.”

Robin laughed. “Whereas you look hot regardless of length?”

“Exactly!” he said with a big grin. “Now help me decide what to wear. I don’t want to go full metal, my fans might murder me.”

Robin winced. As referenced by the social media meltdown when he showed up in videos from the Salt Lake City concert. There was so much hate about him selling out (which, you know weird flex considering it’s usually selling out was in the opposite direction), and how he was clearly trying to get into Eddie’s pants. It was brutal.

In fact the Corroded Coffin fans seemed to be more welcoming and friendly. Telling him how awesome it was that he came out and that he could be himself. But then as Steve was slowly learning, metal fans tended to only looked mean.

So he decided to combine his former look with his boyfriend’s metal style. He wore a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off with chunky bracelets on his wrists. But instead of tight black jeans and combat boots, Steve wore baggy white trousers and black sneakers. Combined with his new hair style and Eddie’s lucky guitar pick hanging from his neck, he felt confident in his look for the first time since he started performing.

Robin eyed him critically, circling him, like a shark scenting blood in the water.

“Good job!” she said with a thumbs up.

Steve laughed. “Did I pass the Robin test?”

“It looks good,” she said. “And if they give you hell, point them my direction.”

Steve nodded. He bounced up and down on his toes. Syking himself up. He waved his arms and wrists, trying to loosen up tense muscles. He began his breathing exercises and then his vocal warm ups.

“You ready for this?” Robin asked.

Steve nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Go get him, tiger!”

Eddie loved performing in front of massive crowds. He couldn’t get enough it. He loved the energy and high he got from the screaming mases. And there was only one thing he loved more than the fans, more than his own band even.

Steve Harrington.

“It’s our last concert and you know we like to go out big,” Eddie said into the microphone. “When we started this tour, we thought it was going to be like any other. Play to sellout crowds, whether that was bars or stadiums. Have fun with my best friends doing what we love.”

The crowd roared, cheering and stomping their feet.

“But as awesome as the highs were,” Eddie continued. “I feel we have to acknowledge the lows. That club with the horrible management and our getaway to the park so we could still play.”

The crowd booed.

“They sucked!” Gareth growled into his microphone.

The crowd cheered back.

“The rain in Seattle.”

The crowd stomped their feet.

“What’s a little soaking between friends, anyway?” Jeff asked.

The crowd roared.

“The fiasco in Austin and beyond!” Eddie said.

The crowd got angry as chant was taken up, “Fuck Creel!”

“That’s right!” Brian screamed. “Fuck Creel!”

“But we made it through,” Eddie finished, “because we have the best fans in the world!”

If the crowd had roared before, it was nothing to deafening thunder that came reply.

“So as thank you, we’ve got a little treat for you all,” Eddie said over the howl of the crowd. “Steve Harrington!”

Who from what Eddie could see was waiting in the wings, liking like sex itself.

The crowd went absolutely feral. There were screams and whistles as Eddie smiled.

“We’re going to do a little song that brought me the best six weeks of my life,” Eddie explained.

Steve came out and waved. “Hello, LA!”

“Hello, Stevie!” the crowd shouted back.

“Come on,” Steve said with a giggle. “You can do better than that!”

“Hello, Stevie!” they roared back.

“You guys are the best!” Steve said.

The music started and the crowd howled.

Then Steve growled out the first line and it was absolute pandemonium.

But instead of being on the opposite ends of the stage like they were in Indy, they started in the middle and were practically all over each other. And then when it was time for the guitar solo, Eddie handed his guitar over to Steve and he let it rip. Just shredded away.

It got so quiet that the only sound was Steve playing like he was born to rock.

So when the solo ended and Steve handed the guitar back to Eddie, Eddie growled. “Steve Harrington, everyone!”

They finished out the rest of the song and then kissed.

“Hi, beautiful,” Eddie said once they had broken off the kiss.

“Hey-ya, Eds,” Steve murmured back with a smile on his face.

“Tell all the wonderful people about what’s been going on with you,” Eddie prompted.

Steve blushed. “After winning a large settlement from my record label I have set up a charity for young LGBTQ+ artists that if they find themselves in a situation like I was, they have someone to turn to. It will have lawyers, counselors, and resources for getting out of abusive homes with living arrangements and a small stipend to help them pay bills as they get back on their feet.”

The crowd cheered.

“There won’t be an exclusion of genres either,” Steve continued. “There is as much queerphobia in country and rap as there is in pop and rock. We want to be able to reach as many people as we can. And while it is mainly for youths, no one of any age will be turned away.”

Again the crowd cheered.

“I’ve also been in the studio writing and recording my new album,” Steve went on.

More cheering.

“And I’ve got a couple of surprises coming for you all,” he said. “Not the least of which is collaboration with these boys.”

The crowd ate it up, stomping and screaming.

“I said in Indy that my greatest dream was to perform with Corroded Coffin,” he continued. “And while crossing that off my bucket list was no small feat, the thought of making music with them, not just Eddie, who I absolutely am in love with, just blows my mind. But these are some of the best in the business and making friends with them and being able to write and perform as song with them? Beyond my wildest imagination.”

“Flattery absolutely works on us, man,” Jeff said in his microphone.

Steve blushed. “Oh, you guys have no idea. That was me dialing back on my enthusiasm. I’ve been your biggest fan for years.”

“Oh no,” Brian said into Jeff’s mic, “we know. And we’re happy to have gotten to know the real you over the last couple of months.”

“Really digging the new look, Stevie,” Jeff agreed.

The crowd whistled their agreement.

Steve grinned.

It had been one hell of a journey. But he’d made it. He was in love with the first boy he ever kissed. He was making the music he loved for the first time in his life. He was out as bisexual. His label and parents were facing criminal charges. And his best friend was going on a date with the girl of her dreams.

If someone had come up to Steve two months ago and told him he would be here with Eddie in front of an adoring crowd, his life changed for the better? He would have laughed himself sick. Good things didn’t happen to Steve Harrington. Not like that.

But it had. And things were only going to get better. He was so happy, he did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed Eddie senseless.

“So did I leave up to the hype, sunshine?” he asked, away from the mic.

Eddie smiled. “You blew my expectations out of the water, sweetheart.”

***

Here’s the meta I wrote for it when I started writing the story and the extra scene that showed what happened that night at Steve’s ten years before the story started.

Tag List: @eboyawstenn @moonshadows-13 @ohlook-afrog @bookbinderbitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @linkydinky06 @livelaughlexa @spectrum-spectre @cutepumpkin4 @whatthemeepever @gleek4twd @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @novelnovella @celtrose-ish @artiststarme @plasticcrotches @anaibis @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @nelotegreitic @steddieassheg0es @yes-im-your-mom @abstractnaturaldisaster @scheodingers-muppet @tiny-enthusiast @thegingerrapunzel @milf-harrington @raisedbylibrarians @reverseteehee @lillys-weird-world @deadlydodos @runyousillydetective @fiore-della-valle @justrandomfandomstm @piebook67 @clumsywriter @donttouchmycarrots @idkareallyreallygoodname @ellietheasexylibrarian @localgaydisaster @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @imfinereallyy @maya-custodios-dionach @child-of-cthulhu @estrellami-1 @lillithhellfire @nerdsconquerall @space-invading-pigeon @avacrebs @ravenpainter @gregre369

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #rockstar au #song fic #ladykailtiha writes

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tri-punisher · 4 months

Text

exciting day. much to report. i had my first psychiatry appointment and it went well. the doctor i spoke to was very responsive and earnest and i didn't at all feel like he was being dismissive at any point or talking down to me at all, despite all my catastrophising about not being taken seriously. he looked at the book i brought with me--This Is ADHD by Chanelle Moriah--which i said had helped me a lot to put a name to my symptoms, and the notepad that i've been using to chronicle all my relevant experiences and said i've done a good job at collecting all this information about myself, and that i am able to convey myself and my symptoms with a great deal of clarity, which he said and i quote made me “sound like a psychologist”, which i think is encouraging.

i've been given a ritalin prescription and start with half a tablet in the morning and half a tablet in the afternoon. if i don't experience much of a change, i can take one whole tablet in the morning and then one in the afternoon, and then if it's still not quite right we can work from there. he also mentioned that i could potentially be put on mood stabilisers at some point in the future, and that i do exhibit clear symptoms of autism, but that it exists on the lower end of the spectrum.

i took half a tablet in the car right after i left the pharmacy and it started working within half an hour. my head felt a bit achey at the start, but that was insignificant compared to the kind of calmness that i felt, like for the first time i felt actually, really contented. and it was a genuinely strange feeling, because i hadn't felt it like that before--i felt alert, but at the same time totally unbothered by everything. i never realised until now exactly how much noise my brain makes at me 24/7 until i was given this prescription and it made everything up there fucking quiet for once. it's like my brain's CPU up until this point was being bottlenecked by a whole bunch of annoying, superfluous bullshit, just inundated with so many different things that made concentrating on anything such a gargantuan task, but i shut it down and rebooted and it was running smoothly after that. it's fucking crazy. like unless you have adhd as well and know what i'm talking about because you're being given stimulants as part of your treatment too i don't think i can really express how unbelievable and weird it is that i've been walking around for all these years with a brain that Literally Could Not Shut Up and then suddenly it just Does Shut Up. i've never felt that calm before in my fucking life. holy shit i'm actually excited to go to bed so i can wake up and take another half a tablet and see what i can do with all the housework that's been piling up. see how much of a difference having such an uncluttered mind even just for a handful of hours will have on my art. this shit is crazy. no wonder they make it so fucking difficult to get a hold of

#chit chat #text

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majorproblems77 · 9 months

Note

So a couple times a year my brain decides to get stuck on the Song of Healing (version by Tara St Michel https://tarastmichel.com/lyrics/?p=32) and combining with the ouch that is Unraveling comes this brain worm

Sky fought the hold (it was taking Warriors, Twilight, Wild, and Four to keep him even that still). Ozone was building in the air, the smell sickeningly sweet. Wind was keeping the gales from the Chosen at bay, as much as he could. The little Sailor’s nose had started bleeding with the sheer effort of this battle of wills. Wind himself hadn’t noticed yet, face screwed up in concentration of diverting Sky’s growing storm.

“Do something!” Wild pleaded with Hyrule. Sky jerked and almost tore himself free. Hyrule was calling his magic, but this...poison extended beyond fairy magic to heal. Sky pleaded once more for the demon he saw in Time’s place to ‘let him fall to silence.’

The ocarina song he could hear from the Master Sword changed its melody and offered a solution.

Day to night, dark to light,

Fall the sands of time.

Let the years, like the gears

Of a clock, unwind.

The Song of Healing. A melody to free a tormented soul. He... he couldn’t do that! Sky was in pain, had been for months. It was his fault. But this was one of his boys! He couldn’t risk losing the Chosen Hero.

In your mind walk through time

Back to better days.

Memories, like a dream,

Wash tears away.

Maybe the melody could do what the sword could not? Maybe the fractured soul could be reached?

Cast away your old face,

Let go of your spite.

With this mask I’ll ask

To borrow your light.

Damn it all! He needed to fix this, to have a chance to make it up to Sky. Not...not what the Chosen seemed to desire in his plea for silence. The boys lost their grip on the Chosen right as Time put the instrument to his lips and joined Fi’s melody on the next stanza

With this song, bring no wrong

Lift me from this curse.

Let this form, like a storm,

Fade and disperse

Sky froze at the melody. The tearing winds only just cushioned by their youngest’s own gifts abruptly fell still. Time took a frantic gasp for air and continued.

In your mind walk through time

Back to brighter days.

Days filled with ways that could

Chase fears away.

Sky sank to his knees, the fight suddenly gone. The malice-filled orange in his eyes flickered, for just a moment allowing the crystal blue to return. Crystal blue filled with tears.

Like the sun shining bright,

Light will soon find you.

Bringing a promise that

You’ll be okay.

They could work through it, as long as they all lived through this. He would hold to that promise.

Cast away all your fears,

Follow your heart.

With this mask I’ll ask

To grant a new start.

And with that final strain of melody, Sky fully collapsed. A mask clattered to the ice as it fell off Sky’s face. Orange, hate-filled eyes stared out of malice-tinted fractures mirroring Sky’s lightning scars. Time’s shaking legs gave out. Producing a mask of his own meager magic reserves had drained him beyond exhaustion.

“Is he breathing?” Was Time’s only question as Warriors got to Sky first. The boys all seemed to hold their breath as Warriors carefully turned Sky to check.

“Breathing, got a heartbeat. He’s still alive.”

Time dragged himself to Sky’s side, ignoring the others’ protests and gathered the boy into his arms.

I JUST

JUST

ASJCICO

BELOVED

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

OMG OMG OMG

*Deep breath*

Okay

Holy hell... I'm crying...(/pos) this is amazing.

I'm at a loss for words, this is stunning. I won't lie it's taken me a solid 20 minutes to be able to formulate a response because I'm just so stunned.

For several reasons

1. This is written incredibly well. I've not heard the peice directly but I can hear it in the written words.

2. I'm stunned that you'd take time out for your day to write something for a piece of work I've made. Im incredibly humbled. Holy shit. Like. Oh man I'm gonna start crying again. (/pos)

3. Its the first time anyone's done something like this for a piece of work I've created. It's such an amazing feeling.

Now if you'll excuse me. I've gotta go cry some more,(/pos) then write some more Unravelling. (With a sprinkle of whumptober)

Just. Thank you so much. It means so much to me that you'd take time to write this.

You are an amazing human being. And have made my week.

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zuzsenpai · 4 months

Text

personal post. tw for mental illness and medication mentions

About four months ago I started having bad anxiety almost completely out of nowhere. I've had depression for about 13 years, but never a whole lot of anxiety until recently. I was also extremely restless, legs constantly shaking, irritable, and unable to focus. My psychiatrist seemed to think that one of my depression meds (I'm on two) that I've been on for three years was suddenly causing these symptoms-- maybe not the anxiety, but probably the restlessness. So I started tapering off of that med. I was extremely worried about taking common "as needed" anxiety medicines because they can be addictive and sedative. So while I was tapering off of the depression med, she prescribed a non-addictive daily anxiety med. Once I was completely tapered off of the one depression med (and my restlessness actually did stop!), she upped the dose of the anxiety med.

Two weeks ago I started feeling constantly lightheaded, extremely fatigued and exhausted, zero concentration, and had frequent mild aphasia (in which I couldn't form proper sentences while speaking without a lot of effort). I thought they were pre-migraine symptoms since I have had those in the past and the weather has been a little weird recently. These symptoms had honestly been scaring the shit out of me. I haven't been able to enjoy things I wanted to. I haven't been able to get work done at work. This past weekend I had guests over and I was sick pretty much the whole fucking time.

SO.... I had COMPLETELY forgotten that I started the higher dose of the new anxiety med exactly two weeks ago. Lo and behold, I looked up the side effects for that med yesterday and ALL of my recent symptoms line up with those side effects. I'm relieved that it can be something potentially fixable if I taper off of this particular med. But..... my anxiety is literally gone now, most likely because of this med. So.... what the fuck am I supposed to do now? Do I wait another week to see if the symptoms subside? If they don't, do I ask my psychiatrist to take me off of the med? What will I do if the anxiety comes back?

I was talking to my mom about this (bad bad bad idea and yet somehow I did it anyway) and she got very mad that I'm not trying "exercise, meditation, and prayer" as a cure for the anxiety. I don't think she realizes that my depression is so shitty and debilitating that I can barely do anything outside of take meds (which mostly don't work regardless of which depression med I take).

I've been extremely stressed as my projects at work pile up and my hobbies have been pushed to the side. I have no idea what to do. I guess I need to fucking exercise.

#zuzu note;#personal post #personal post for ts #mental health mention #mental illness mention

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digital-corruption · 1 year

Text

I'm not happy with it, but I am sick of editing this chapter and I want to move on. Otherwise, I'll never finish it.

⚠️ Trigger warning: PTSD episode, choking

Unrecognisable Part 49

Fire. Everywhere. As far as the eye could see. I tried to find my way out, but all I could see were flames and it didn’t help that every next breath was emptier than the previous. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. I turned back to look at Jake, but where his hand had once been there was nothing but fire creeping up my arm. In that moment my heart stopped as I realised I was done for. I would die in this fire and nothing would be left behind. I didn’t want to die, I wanted to live. Live, damnit, live!

I jumped up in a cold sweat, my heart racing in a panic. My eyes darted around the room, trying to remember where the hell I was. Rundown, abandoned office. Old, ratty leather couch. That’s right, the warehouse. Sighing, I wiped my temple of the sweat and my cheek of the tears. Shit, that was worst and most vivid nightmare I had in ages. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel the heat of the fire. I glanced down and remembered the burns on my fore arms beneath the bandages. That’s right, not all of it was a dream. Some of it, no, most of it was real.

I sunk down and hugged my knees lightly while my mind ran through the events of the night before. I felt the pain of Cyan pinning me to the ground, syringe in his hand, coming so close to injecting me with liquid poison. I remembered hearing the roar of Jake’s voice cut through the room before he tackled Cyan and wrestled him for control. The look in Jake’s eye as Cyan bled out beneath him still sent chills down my spine. It was as if it had been a game – a game with the odds completely stacked against Jake. He won and basked in the victory while his opponent died

However, that moment was brief - that gloat turned to terror.

I winced as I could still taste the smoke on the back of my throat. I wondered how much mouth wash I would have to gargle to get rid of the awful taste. Or was it just one of those things I could never get rid of? Would I regain my sense of smell, or would I only ever be able to smell smoke forever more? Would I always be cursed to remember the night in perfect definition?

My phone beeped several times, which broke my concentration. I stared at it for a minute while I tried to decide whether I would even bother checking it. My curiosity won in the end.

Trix: Holy fuck! What the fuck did you two do!?

Trix: You killed Cyanide!? You actually fucking killed him!?

Trix: What the fuck were you thinking!?!!

Trix: OMFG…

Trix: There’s going to be a power vacuum a mile wide because of you!

Trix: Shit! All hell is going to break loose!

Trix: Why the fuck did you have to kill him!?

I turned the screen off and tossed the phone onto the floor. As if I cared about Colville’s underground politics. They could self-destruct on each other, and I wouldn’t blink an eye. So long as they stayed the fuck out of our way.

I stood up and stretched out gingerly. My crusted burns painfully threatened to weep again if I pushed them too much. I spotted a glass of water on the desk. I knew it was already mixed with Jake’s pain medication. I picked it up and downed it in one go.

‘Or let them come. We could use the stress relief,’ I thought to myself.

Let them come. Let them burn.

I could hear Jake’s dark voice in my head even though he never said those things. Somehow I heard them as clear as day and it made me smile. Suddenly I had renewed strength and was ready to face the day.

Thinking of Jake, I went to check on him. Had he been up all night working again? I expected to find him sitting at his desk as usual, but strangely the desk was vacant. I walked over and found his laptop had been left to run a process, but it had already finished. So where was the user?

A faint sniffle from the far end of the floor caught my attention. Zigging and zagging through the random scattering of desks and chairs, I found Jake sitting on the floor with his head in his knees in the far corner of the loft. His entire body was shivering, no, shaking. I knelt down beside him and put my hand on his back. His entire body jumped at my sudden touch. He raised his head slightly in response. His face was pale and his eyes were wide while his breathing trembled.

“Jake,” I cooed. “Jake, you’re safe.”

No response. The closer I looked, the more I noticed. His pupils were dilated. There was a tiny bit of dried blood on his lip where he had bit it too hard. His fingernails had bent and broke badly from digging them too hard into his pants. How long had he been like this?

“Jake, you’re not in the mines, you’re not in the fire. You’re… here,” I gestured to our surroundings with my head. “You’re home, for lack of a better word.”

“Find R-richy…” Jake shuddered.

“No, Jake, you don’t have to find him. He’s in prison, remember?” I smiled gently. “That was a very long time ago. You don’t need to worry about him anymore.”

I paused for a moment and waited for any sort of reaction from Jake, but he couldn’t hear me. I sighed with regret, knowing that I had caused this new series of episodes. Somehow, I had to get Jake out of the mental prison. It hurt so much to see him suffer like this, especially after having a taste of it myself. But how?

Out of nowhere, Jake snapped around and grabbed my wrist. As if the pain of that wasn’t enough, he twisted it and pushed me off balance. I fell backwards onto the floor with a thud. I screamed out from the searing pain of my burns being so harshly manhandled, but my cries were cut off by Jake’s hand at my throat. Unlike his taunts of the past, he squeezed hard, stifling the life from me, while he stared at me with dead, cold eyes. I clawed desperately at his hand, trying to get him to release me, but he was too strong.

“Jake!” I barely got out.

I stared deep into his cold, blank eyes hoping for any sort of recognition of what was happening, but I got nothing. Quickly strength drained from my body. My vision began to tunnel as my consciousness started to fade. The consideration that I could die right then and there suddenly became a frighteningly real possibility. My heart beat so heavily it felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. With the little vigour I had left, I shot daggers into the eyes of my possessed assaulter. Wake up damnit!

Suddenly Jake’s eyes widened as a wave of realisation washed over him. He immediately let go and jumped off me. I turned over and coughed uncontrollably as oxygen flooded my brain again. I was so deafened by the sound of my own pulse pounding in my ears that I could barely make out Jake screaming in agony until my heart rate started to recover.

“No!” Jake yelled at the top of his lungs. “Why? Why!?”

I tried to speak, but the only sound that came out of my throat was a cracked, broken mess. Jake buried his face in his knees again while his hands pulled at his hair. He let out a tortured wail into his thighs. I crawled over to him and lifted his head up with my hands cupping his cheeks. His expression was so full of pain and remorse that I couldn’t hold back my own tears. I leant my forehead against his and we cried together.

After a while Jake gritted his teeth and spoke up, “I’m so fucked up.”

“That’s why we’re seeing the doctor,” I hoarsely reminded him.

“What if he can’t help me?” Jake bit his lip hard. “Fuck, MC, I was so close to killing you.”

“Jake-“ my voice croaked.

“Don’t you dare say it’s ok because it’s not!” he snapped. “A few seconds longer and…”

I wiped his tears from his cheeks with my thumbs, then kisses his lips. “Tonight, Jake, tonight you’re meeting with the doctor and you’re going to get a handle on this!”

“I wouldn’t need it if it wasn’t for Richy!” he exclaimed. “He’s the reason I’m like this! He turned me into a pathetic, weak, deranged fuck up!”

“And he’s paying the price for it,” I reminded him.

“No…” Jake shook his head and his eyes turned dark. “He’s paid a pittance for what he’s done. His entire existence is a mistake!”

I realised there was no point in trying to argue with him, the best thing I could do was distract him from the topic. I raised my arms and took a good look at the bandages. They got rather bunched up and dishevelled during Jake’s episode, and my wounds wept so much, there was no point trying to salvage these. I needed fresh bandages.

“Did I do that?” Jake anguished.

“Let’s not focus on that,” I glanced up at him. “You can’t change the past, but the now you can change. Will you help me clean these?”

“I caused you so much pain… Only if you would have me,” he said full of guilt. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Then let’s go downstairs,” I stood up carefully.

Jake remained on the floor and with a pained expression, looked up at me, as if he didn’t deserve to stand. I held out my hand to help him up. He took it and pressed his forehead onto the back of my hand apologetically.

“I-I can’t say I forgive you,” I admitted.

“Nor should you. I won’t ever bother asking you to,” he muttered. “This is already much more than I deserve.”

“Jake, that’s not true,” I frowned. “You need help. Everyone deserves help.”

“No, not everyone,” he shook his head.

“Yes, you,” I rolled my eyes.

Jake raised his head and kissed my fingertips, “These are still so clean.”

“No, they’re not,” I sighed.

“They’re cleaner than you think. I don’t deserve this hand. I will only taint it,” he rambled.

“Jake, come on, get up,” I frowned.

Jake looked into my eyes as he put his lips around my pointer and middle fingers and softly lowered his mouth until he was past the second knuckle.

“Something tells me you want to taint it,” I raised my eyebrow.

Jake pulled my fingers out of his mouth leaving a trail of saliva between his lips and my fingers, “I want to corrupt all of you. I will if you keep letting me.”

I swallowed uncomfortably. There was such a darkness around Jake, and it had taken complete control of him. It threatened to engulf and pull me under with him. Oh how easy it would have been to let it consume me. No, my ego had to continue taunting it, thinking I had the upper hand and could control it. I pressed my fingertips against Jake’s lips then shoved my fingers back into his mouth. He eagerly started sucking on them, running his tongue lovingly along their length. I nearly fell into temptation, but the persistent pain on my arms reminded me that there were more pressing matters to take care of. I pulled my fingers back out and then lightly held his chin.

“Stand up, Jake,” I commanded, tugging the invisible leash.

Obediently, Jake stood up and followed me downstairs to the bathroom. I started to go through the first aid kit for the antiseptic solution, but Jake stopped me. He took my left arm and carefully unwound the ruined bandage, then proceeded to thoroughly clean the open burns and blisters. He reapplied the burn cream from the night before and pulled out a fresh bandage to rewrap my arm. After meticulously caring for my left arm, he repeated the process for my right arm just as diligently. Watching him, it was hard to think he was the same person who nearly killed me less than an hour ago. Glancing in the mirror, I noticed the bruise marks already starting to appear around my neck. The juxtaposition was so extreme that if it wasn’t for the physical evidence of Jake’s episode, I would’ve thought that I had imagined it, like it was a bad nightmare. It was too easy to forget how quickly he could snap.

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. Jake buried himself in his work, trying to distract himself from recent events. While he was occupied, I checked the news online to see what was being discussed about the fire. Generally the census was that the authorities had no information regarding the freak fire that burnt down the old warehouse, but I knew that wasn’t true. The articles mentioned some vagrants dying as a result of the fire, but that was as much as they mentioned. There was absolutely no mention of who or what they were, or of us. I suppose all things considered, that was for the best. I was sick of being painted as anarchist villains. I guess there was no story to weave so no propaganda to spin.

In the end it was just a fire that some nameless people died in. However, after a while, that started to unnerve me. All things considered, I shouldn’t have cared that Cyan and his cronies weren’t even named, but then I had a fleeting thought. If it was us, would we get a mention? Or would our deaths too be swept under the carpet like we didn’t exist? Would our loved ones even be told we died? Would our bodies be returned to them, or would we be cremated as John and Jane Doe? The fact I couldn’t even answer that made me sick. Suddenly I felt like there was real weight to Jake’s fear of being wiped from existence. It was too frighteningly easy to become lost and forgotten in this world.

#duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake #duskwood jake x mc #unrecognisable fanfic

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league-of-sam · 11 months

Text

Catching A Ghost | Simon 'GHOST' Riley

Ghost x Reader

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Simon 'GHOST' Riley x AFAB!Reader!OC18+ MINORS DNI!t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

Catching A Ghost: Masterlist

"Soap! What the fuck happened?"

"I-I don't know, L.T. S-she just...the lift, it fell-"

"Just what?! Johnny what the fuck happen-"

The mumbled sounds of your team yelling in your ear was all you could hear over the ringing.

Locking eyes with the man, you gasped, scrambling wobbly to your feet and snatching the controls from his hands. You brought the box up, smacking his face with it before making a run for it down the corridor.

"Shit shit shit- oh fuck- shit! Oh my god." you spoke, laboured breaths in between each word as you ran, dodging the bullets coming at you from behind.

"(Y/N)? Reaper is that you? Reaper how copy?"

"6-2 do you copy? Fuck!"

"Lieutenant Price sit-rep right now!"

Several voices called for you in response to your panicked words.

They could hear every gasp and curse you threw out as you fled through the hallways, before finding a small office.

Shoving a chair in front of the handle, you dropped to the floor, hiding under a table.

"Jesus H. Christ! Oh god I'm gonna die I'm gonna die..." you ranted, pulling the controls open, "Reaper to All Stations I got the controls, b-but I lost my weapons I'm completely blind."

"Fuckin' hell Boo what the fuck-"

"Simon please, shut the fuck up-" you spewed out, instantly feeling bad, "I'm sorry oh God they're so close...Fuck! Someone better tell me what to do right now!"

"Reaper you read me? It's Laswell."

"Loud and clear ma."

"Where the hell are ya?" Soap said.

"Hiding in an office...Laswell please I'm ready let's shut this fucker down."

The panic in your voice made all of them incredibly uneasy.

Ghost was freaking out, his heart feeling like it had been shattered from the way you shot him down.

Soap wanted to throw himself off the building for letting you slip out of his fingers. He'd ordered Gaz to stay with Price, and he was currently solo, fighting his way to you.

Price was ready to murder everyone the minute he caught on that you were alone out there.

"First I need you to calm down so you can concentrate, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You took a few deep breaths, whimpering as a soldier jiggled the handle to the door before moving on.

"Okay...shit, the target is D.C."

"Okay. Now give me the coordinates."

"Uh, thirty-eight, negative seventy-seven."

"That's the Pentagon."

"He's going for Shepherd?"

"No, Shepherd's gone-"

"Yeah well there are 30,000 people who aren't, finish it!"

Hearing your brother's voice brought a comfort to you, lifting the terrified haze just enough for you to focus.

"First, you need to enable diagnostic mode...hit CLEAR and MODE at the same time."

Your fingers moved to the buttons, and you whispered a countdown under your breath, "Okay, done."

"Next is the override. You should see four columns of data- I need to know what's in row two, column three."

The tips of your fingers shakily grazed the screen as you reeled off the code to Laswell, your tone hushed as you heard the soldiers fall back.

"Good girl, now hit LEFT and CLEAR to initiate override."

"Done."

"Get safe honey, this next part will make some noise."

Looking around the room, you noticed a small hole behind a cabinet, just small enough for you to crawl through.

Squeezing in, it brought you into a workshop.

You crawled along the floor, managing to slide behind a small sofa.

Suddenly, a light flashed onto your face, giving you the same message that Ghost had when you landed.

"G-ghost?"

He smiled a little, able to see your eyes relax slightly from his position, "I won't let 'em near ya, finish it."

You nodded in his vague direction, flipping the controls open once again.

"I'm ready, Kate."

"This is the last step...hit LINK when the green light is in the fourth position."

You did so, and the box began bleeping, "Oh shit-"

Slamming it shut, you ducked down, hand over your mouth so your breathing wouldn't give you away through your mask.

"We did it...thank you, lieutenant. Where's Hassan?"

"Fucking surrounded by his AQ zombies...I'm gonna kill every one of them, and then I'm gonna go for him. Out here."

"I'm on my way to ya, Reaper, stand by." Soap spoke.

"Negative. I'll see you on the other side, Ghost Team."

With that, you stood, sneaking through the shadows to get eyes on the soldiers around you.

"Nicely done, Reaper. Now for the hard part."

"That was the fuckin' hard part, Ghost. God, I need a weapon."

"Then make one."

You rolled your eyes, "Ah yeah sorry my bad! Lemme just take five fuckin' minutes to build a semi-auto while AQ hunt me down!"

"That mouth o' yours is really gonna get ya in trouble one of these days."

You snickered, opting not to answer as you snuck through the halls and rooms, picking up any material that could be useful to stop you, well...dying.

That involved you throwing metal into microwaves to cause explosions, looting through toolboxes, and fiddling broken shards of glass into a shiv. Surprisingly, it worked extremely well, and you managed to take down four of the soldiers, stealing their weapons and ammo.

"Would you believe me if I told you I was still absolutely shitting myself?" you said, head peeking around the next corner.

Ghost didn't answer, completely enamoured by your beauty, grace, and skill. You were a killer, through and though.

A killer with the warmest heart he'd ever known.

A killer, who warmed his own ice cold heart, yet proves over and over how little he is needed.

You didn't need him.

You were just fine on your own.

Every step you made, you could hear Hassan taunting you, over and over again.

"You are spineless!"

"You will not win this."

"It is inevitable. I am inevitable."

"Three times you almost got me, three times you failed. This blood is on your hands."

With your makeshift bombs and traps, you managed to stun the final soldier, running at him with your glass shiv. You knocked him down, his blood spurting over you as you brought the blade under his helmet and into his neck.

"Atta girl, now you need to-"

Ghost was cut off, as Hassan emerged from a side door, shooting several rounds of bullets at you.

They littered your vest, knocking the wind from you.

As you fell to the floor, your head collided with the marble tiles, and once again, your vision was blurry, and your eyes fell shut.

The last thing you saw, was Hassan stalking to you, grabbing your ankle.

Your eyes fluttered open, a searing pain in the side of your head.

Reaching up, you winced as your fingers touched your forehead. Pulling them away, you saw the crimson liquid drip.

You were being dragged along the floor and into another room, too dazed to try and defend yourself.

"I told you that your nation would see fire...you think you can stop me?" Hassan spoke, tossing you harshly to the side.

You whimpered as your body collided with the ground.

"G-ghost..." you strained.

"(Y/N)!" he replied, tone matching yours.

You rolled onto your side, trying to get off the ground.

Turning, you saw Hassan, ranting away as he blew out the window opposite you.

"W-watch the w...window."

You let out a cry once again as Hassan approached you, gripping onto your vest and hauling you off the floor.

"We are not attacking, we are invading." he said, a sickly smirk playing on his lips.

One of Hassan's hands moved up, ripping the mask from your face.

"Ah, there she is," he smiled, "the real face of the Reaper...my men were wondering when we'd finally see it. Hmm, so pretty."

You flinched away as his hands rubbed against your cheek, tracing your lips and jawline.

"Pity you're going to die...(Y/N) Price. Such a pretty, pretty waste." your eyes widened, and he laughed, "What? Didn't think I'd be able to figure you out? Had my men search for you since the day you captured me."

"Don't listen to him, Reaper, he's tryna get in your 'ead." Ghost spoke.

"Y-you'll die for t-this, Hassan."

His hand moved, gripping your neck tightly, and you gasped as you felt your feet lift, tiptoes barely grazing the ground.

He was squeezing, hard. And enjoying watching you struggle.

"You know, I almost can't believe I get to be the one to kill the famous Reaper."

"F-fuck you." you spat.

He smirked, letting out a chuckle, "Such fire, such soul! I can see why your team like you. Shame they'll have to stand idly by as they listen to you die."

Everyone on the team was listening.

Soap was running faster than he ever had, knowing he was your only chance.

Price had tried to stand, fighting off the marines and medics holding him down, desperate to try and help you. Gaz had to physically restrain him, holding back his own tears.

Laswell had broken every traffic law in existence to get to your position, hand over her mouth as she saw you slip over the edge, commanding the marines around her to do something, anything to stop you from dying.

On the other side of the street, Ghost was trying his hardest to save you, but the way Hassan held you up...it blocked every angle.

Every time his head moved, so did yours.

And you were edging closer and closer to the open window.

"I can't- Fuck! I can't get a clear shot."

A tear slipped from your eye, "T-then go through m-me..."

By now, you could feel your feet slipping as you tried to find grip on the ledge. Hassan was practically dangling you over the streets below.

He was going to drop you.

"L.T. don't! I'm almost to her!" Soap called out.

"Wha...n-no! 'm not fuckin' shootin' ya."

"It's the o-only way!"

"Negative. Not doin' that."

"It's you and me, yeah?" you said. "It's okay, Simon, it's okay."

Ghost felt his lip quiver under his mask.

The way you were echoing his words back to him as you begged him to kill you ripped through him harder than any bullet would.

"Echo 6-2 to all stations..." you gasped out as Hassan's hand tightened, "I fuckin' love you guys. S-see you on t-the other s...side."

You were so willing to give your life to the cause, and he fucking hated it.

"Soap!"

Your gleeful exclaim brought Ghost back.

"Now, L.T.!" Soap called.

Soap had burst through the door, making Hassan turn his head.

Bang.

Ghost wasted no time pulling the trigger.

But what none of you saw coming was the way in which Hassan's now-lifeless body would release you.

Fear flashed on your features as your feet scrambled to keep you upright, hands reaching out to try and grab onto something.

Anything.

Soap dived forward, yelling, and this time, you didn't slip away. His fingers closed around yours, and he yanked you toward him, the momentum knocking both of you to the ground.

His arms strapped tightly around you, both of you panting.

"You okay, pet?" Soap said, releasing you.

Rolling onto your back, you turned, looking at Hassan's dead body before turning back to Soap.

You nodded, wide eyed, and reached up for your radio, "6-2 to all stations, enemy KIA."

"Perfect shot, L.T." Soap said, panting as he leaned back on his knees.

"You called it, sergeant."

Soap stood, walking over to the corner of the room, and picked up your mask. With one hand, he pulled you off the floor, offering you a small smile before placing it back onto your face.

Your entire body was shaking, adrenaline running through your veins.

"We did it, (Y/N), it's over."

You let out a choked laugh, trying your hardest to hold back the tears that wanted to fall.

With one hand on your shoulder, he led you out of the room, and back to the team. As soon as the doors opened, you ran into Price's arms, holding onto him for dear life.

"The next time I hear you try and give up your life, I'm gonna kill ya myself." he joked.

"I second that." Laswell said, joining the hug.

One after another, the team piled on, until you were in the middle of a very large, very tight group hug...with your family.

It was over.

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