#part 2?

[the-everlasting-ash]

Tonight and Goodnight

[cloudyykisses]

Reader who betrays the 141.

You’ve spent years alongside the corp, worked with Soap, fought with Price, got drunk with Gaz and managed to unravel Simon’s fears until he actually felt human enough to let you in.

After 2 years in the corps, you and the lieutenant hooked up. Then you two continued at it for another two, fucking occasionally to quiet the trauma bothering you both.

Poor Simon. If only he had known you were feeding all those words to him for trust, all thick lies from clean teeth. You’d always belonged to Makarov, not even when he dicked you down and you cried his name.

He had no idea how you even managed to slip by Laswell and other higher ups to join the UK SAS. But you did, weaseled your way through until you worked alongside him. Now he’s actually felt the love he hadn’t all his life, he felt stable. Simon felt human, for once in his slacked, poor excuse of a life.

And then Price announced you were with them the whole time. Just feeding information from 141 to Makarov. Every plan, every mission, every recon and dead recruit along the way. It was all just a tinted screen no one could see past. He’s so angry at himself for falling for it too.

Simon realizes why they’ve never captured Makarov. Why he managed to slither right out of their palms every damn time. You.

Now after a year of resenting you and drowning himself in work all over again, he finds you. Finds you injured, suffering just like you deserve. On a solo recon mission, scouting out a warehouse.

Seems you didn’t make it back from the mission, got stuck in the forest he was stalking from. With a thick gash on your thigh and hooded eyes. The lieutenant almost wants to laugh the second you spot him, because you know. You know the second you spot him, it’s over. That’s why you’ve been running. Avoiding.

“Did ya’ have fun?” He hums, taking a silent step with his thick boots from around the trees. “Was it fun?” He corrects himself, scoffing.

“What?” You choke hesitantly, brows furrowing in confusion. His voice is so flat, so horribly neutral you can’t even tell if he’s angry with you.

“Being Makarov’s lap dog?” He shrugs. “Betrayin’ us?” He goes on. “Was it fun, love’?” He glares at you as if you’re dumb.

“It wasn’t personal.” You state, now beginning to heave heavy because the man just clicks his tongue, taps his heavy rifle against his leg with a grunt.

“Me fuckin’ you wasn’t personal?” he rolls his shoulders, taking a sly step towards you. Simon is so horribly blunt. You liked that about him.

You tense up, you hadn’t expected that. He sees it, watches like a wolf does a doe. Yet as he stops infront of you, eyes watching you through a hateful resentment, you realize none of the man before is Simon.

He isn’t soft, he isn’t the man who checked your combat vest over before a mission, or had an extra bar for you when missions stretched long. You had that version of him long before.

But the only version you have now is the one slowly raising his rifle to your forehead, shaking his head. The rifle you used to help him clean. There’s no pity in his brown eyes, just disappointment.

(Part 2?!!)

[moonwisps]

“Only i shall fulfill your desires.”

Concubine!Sukuna x Empress!Reader

୨୧⁩𓎢𓎠𓎟𓎠𓎡𓎢𓎟𓎠𓎡𓎠𓎟𓎠𓎠𓎠𓎠𓎠𓎠𓎠𓎠𓎠𓎠𓎠𓎠𓎠𓎠୨୧⁩

When you walked in, the sight should have suprised you. It was a whole mess, a massacre, anyone would be able to see it

but—

on the other hand, you saw it coming. You weren’t suprised. It had only been a matter of time when it would take place.

When he would finally snap.

You could almost hear how your handmaidens had stiffened behind you, but you were mostly unfazed at the massacre that probably had taken place just moments ago.

Your gaze lazingly flitting over the blood smears, splatters, dismembered bodies and organs strewn across the usually clean floors. As if it were some grotesque art show that was put on.

“It’s my gift for you, my love. They are not needed, not when you have me.” Sukuna was shamelessly sprawled out on your throne. Two hands lazily resting on the arms of the throne, one drawing circles on his thigh and the other supporting his chin. His face was set into a subtle grin, enough of a telltale sign that he was proud of his work.

With a curt nod towards your handmaidens, you dismissed them. Not bothering to look back how they scurried away. A soft hum emerged you as you walked closer to the bodies, well what was left of them atleast.

You could barely identify them, but you know well enough who they were. The rest of your concubines. All sorts of hands, feet, torsos were clattered at the foot at your throne. Gaze raising up to where Sukuna was still sprawled out as if he were the emperor himself, so you finally said something. “Normally i would punish you for this. Carelessly ridding of useful lives, i had purposes for them. I suppose you are somewhat right though. I don’t need them, when i have you.”

That made him twitch. Sukuna knew that you couldn’t be mad at him, atleast not for long. With slow and calculated steps, you made your way up to your throne. Disregarding the bodies and limbs that were sprawled all over your floor.

Your eyebrow slightly arched up as you carefully took in the way that Sukuna was sitting all sprawled out, as if the place belonged to him, as if he was the Emperor of the Kingdom. Not just a concubine of The Empress. He simply didn’t care. You could see it in the way he kept his chin lifted. If it were anyone else, they would have been sent to be executed already—But this was different. This was Sukuna.

And the part was, you did not loathe it. The way he acted. How he dared to challenge you in his bold ways, daring to stand out and defy against you. He was the only one who did not care that much for your title. Sukuna kept to his bold ways, which you secretly preferred much more than most who rarely dared to say anything in your presence.

Slowly Sukuna leaned forward, one of his hands reaching out to boldly grasp at your hip. Fingers bunching up the layered fabric you wore and you just tipped your chin up, waiting silently. “Let me rule alongside you. I know how to take care of you—Unlike these useless measley humans. They did not even fight back. How would you expect them to protect you?”

A soft scoff emerged from your lips at Sukuna’s words. Bold, as always. Not like you would have expected any differ from him. He’s always voiced his dislike for the humans that were employed by you, as if he deemed to think you above them—Despite being Empress, you were still made from the same flesh as those ‘Measley Humans’. With a soft hum, you raised your hand. Slowly letting it card through Sukuna’s locks. Pausing, before you lightly tugged on the colored strands, forcing him to look up at you.

“You forget yourself, Ryomen. If i wished to have one equal to me, i would have chosen one. Do not forget where you stand, beneath me..ordered at my desires.” Your grip tightened in his hair, your other hand raising to press against his chest—Pushing him back against the throne. One of your feet nudging his apart, forcing him to spread his thighs further open,—until you heard a groan emerge from him.

Instead of him getting pissed, he enjoyed it. You could tell the way he half liddedly looked at you and you out a scoff at the sight of him. Muttering a ‘pathetic’ underneath your breath. In some way, it did not suprise you. Sukuna was always devoted to you, no matter what (rightfully so) , but unlike your other concubines or even guards,—He meant it when he’d said he would kill for you and right now it showed.

It was sweet in some kind of twisted way, him murdering the rest of your concubines just so he could have you all to himself. That only he could and would take care of you. To be the only one taking care of your needs and praising your body and soul like a Goddess to be prayed to.

Obviously you could not resist such temptation, after all..you were only of human flesh.

Who were you to deny yourself the pleasure you rightiously deserve?

Sukuna’s voice, soon enough snapped you out of your daydream. “Just relax, your Majesty. Let me take care of you. You need not do anything now, not any time soon.” You almost felt yourself going slack in his grip as he brought you closer to him. Now standing between his spread thighs.

A shudder running over the back of your neck as Sukuna pressed and nuzzled his nose against your fabric covered stomach. Unable to help yourself as a staggered breath escaped from your lips.

What a minx he is

“Shh,—Let me do all the work.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

I had no idea how to end this, so please don’t come for my ass. Feel free to send me requests if you liked this! (๑>؂•̀๑)

[nctzenhwa]

the watcher | psycho!yunho x reader

tags: dark fic, stalker!yunho, cnc/dub con, knife play, voyeurism??, overstim, power imbalance, creampie, degradation, fear play?, reader is now captive?

a week of work and im not completely happy with it >_< but psycho yunho is here!

you never thought yunho was anything other than safe. just the tall neighbor with a pretty smile that made the hallway feel warmer every time you passed by.

he carried your grocery bags up three flights of stairs when the elevator broke, brought you coffee whenever you worked late, smiles at you whenever you bump into each other.

tonight, the power in your apartment went out for the third time this month, forcing you to text him if you could come over because he told you he had a backup generator in a casual chat.

his reply came almost too fast, telling you to come over and to bring your laptop so you could work.

he opened the door, wearing just a black tee and gray sweatpants that slung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers slightly visible. his hair is messy, a few strands falling over his forehead and into his eyes.

“hey.. sorry about the outage again. building’s falling apart, huh?” he says softly, hand settling at the small of your back as he guides you inside.

you settle onto his couch, laptop open on your knees, the screen illuminating your face. yunho brings a glass of water and sits across from you, starting up small talk as you work.

eventually, your bladder tugs at you and you ask for the bathroom.

“down the hall,” he murmurs, voice soft, “first door on the right for my bathroom, but the guest room is the third door down if you want more space.. take your time, no rush,” he smiles, pointing toward the hall.

you walked down the hall, counting the doors in the dim light, skipping over the first door and kept going to the third, opening the one on the left accidentally, assuming it was the bathroom he meant.

the wood door creaked as you pushed it open, your eyes falls on four screens illuminating the small office. live feeds of your entire apartment: the couch in your living room, a view from the bookshelf in your bedroom, your kitchen counter where last night’s dishes still sat.

photos everywhere, printed on expensive photo paper and taped edge to edge on the walls. paparazzi-esque photos of you leaving work, on the subway, asleep in bed: all with dates and times in neat black ink.

there was a corkboard with your schedule pinned in it: your shifts at work highlighted in yellow, the times you went on walks in the morning, when you took out your trash.

a small shelf held things you thought you had lost months ago: your spare apartment key, a pair of earrings that vanished from your nightstand, and a black pair of panties you swore the dryer ate.

your stomach dropped hard, a cold wash spreading through your chest. you back up, the floorboards creaking under your feet, sounding like a gunshot in your ears.

suddenly you feel yunho’s hand close around your wrist, the grip firm enough to bruise, causing you to spin quickly.

he blocked the doorway completely, his shoulders relaxed and face calm like he’s been waiting for this moment for months, tension falling from his jaw the second your eyes meet his.

“i was wondering how long it would take,” he whispers, a small smile playing on his lips. you try to yank your arm free, but he just steps in the room with you, the door locking shut behind him.

“yunho- what the fuck is this? i was looking for the bathroom-”

he tilts his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “wrong door, honest mistake. but you’ve seen all of it, so there’s no point in pretending anymore,” he murmurs as he reaches past your shoulder, flipping a switch on the wall. the monitors became brighter, angles of your apartment in real time staring back at you.

“i’ve been keeping you safe. remember that guy from the bar who wouldn’t take no for an answer? he won’t bother you again. i made sure of that, personally,” he rants as he steps closer, the cold wall pressing against your spine.

“you’re sick, yunho. let me leave, right now!” you snap as he crowds your space.

his fingers brush your jaw gently, thumb tracing the line of bone before pressing in hard, rough enough to bruise in the shape of his fingerprints. “sick? i call it dedicated. months of watching and waiting to make sure no one else got too close.. and here you are, in my space, seeing everything i’ve built for us,” he whispers as his hand slides down to your throat, fingers resting against your pulse point, the veins jumping under his touch, “you’re not leaving. not tonight, not ever. you belong here now.”

you try to duck past him, but he just catches your shoulder and spins you against the desk, the edge digging into your hips. his body is solid and warm against yours, chest rising steadily as his hips trap you completely.

“don’t,” he says quietly, “you already know too much. running now would just make a mess, and we don’t want that, do we?”

his free hand opens the drawer beside you, the knife he pulls out glinting in the light of the monitors. he lifts it between you, turning it slowly so the light slides along the metal.

“been thinking about this moment for a long time,” he murmurs, eyes darkening. “how your eyes would widen like that, how your breath would catch right here,” his thumb presses against the side of your throat, feeling your pulse hammer under his fingers, “pretty. so fucking pretty when you’re scared.” you swallow hard as he hovers the blade near your collarbone, the cool metal raising goosebumps on your skin.

“take it off,” he says flatly, eyes locked on you, “every piece, or i’ll do it for you, and i won’t be careful.”

your fingers shake as you try to unbutton your shirt, so yunho hooks the tip of the knife under the first button of your shirt, the metal kissing your skin as he popped the button off.

the cool air hit your chest as he flicked every button off, tracing the knife against your bra, the cold material making your nipples tighten and peak against the thin fabric.

“look at you,” he says, voice dropping lower as his polite mask slips completely. “already shaking and i haven’t even touched you.. ready for someone to finally own you completely?” he questions as he slides the blade under the strap of your bra, the fabric snaps, letting the cups fall to expose you fully.

his hand shoves into the front of your pants, fingers pushing past the waistband to find you slick and hot. yunho laughs darkly, the vibrations traveling up the column of your neck. “of course you’re wet.. like all those nights i watched you touch yourself… moaning into your pillow while thinking about me,” he murmurs as he pushes two fingers inside you, crooking them hard.

you gasp hard, the knife at the base of your throat biting into your skin as the tip poked against your racing pulse. yunho works you open, thumb circling your clit roughly to build up the pressure quickly.

he holds you up with his body against the desk, hips pinning yours enough that you can feel the hard line of his cock pressing through his sweatpants. "that's it.. fuck my fingers like the desperate little slut you've always been for me.. been waiting months to feel this tight little cunt flutter around my fingers," yunho rambles, working you open with rough strokes.

you try to push at his chest, palms flat against his shirt, but yunho just laughs at you as he adds a third finger, stretching you to your limit. your hips jerk against his fingers despite yourself, tears pricking your eyes as you try to chase the friction.

he pulls his fingers free, leaving you clenching around nothing as he wipes them across your stomach, smearing your own wetness across your skin.

"on the desk, now. legs spread."

you don't move fast enough for him, causing yunho to grip your hips hard, sitting you on the edge of the desk, the wood biting into the back of your thighs. he shoves your legs apart, bringing the knife to your inner thighs and tracing gently.

you feel the edge kiss the seam of your pants, the fabric giving way with a soft rip, tearing a hole right in the middle. he peels the ruined material down with the blade, leaving everything dangling off one ankle, letting the cool air hit your exposed pussy.

yunho's cock is pulled out, hard and flushed, the tip of him leaking steadily. he strokes himself once before he lines up, the blunt head nudging your entrance before he pushes in all the way to the hilt.

you cry out, causing yunho to press the knife into the side of your neck as he begins moving, hips snapping against yours in a brutal rhythm. each thrust punches the air from your lungs, his cock dragging against the spot inside you that makes you see stars.

"mine," he growls against your ear, teeth grazing your lobe. "say it. tell me who this pussy belongs to."

you're too overwhelmed to answer as he continues to hit that spot that makes your vision blur and yunho slams in harder, the tip of the knife pressing into your neck enough to sting. "say it or i start carving my name right here on your pretty throat.. everyone will see who owns you," yunho snaps, dragging the knife over your pulse point.

"y-yours," you choke out, voice cracking.

"louder," he growls as he angles hips to abuse that sensitive spot inside you, "tell me who owns this tight little pussy. who's been watching it for months."

"yours, yunho. f-fuck- it's yours-!" you whimper, thighs shaking around his hips.

yunho fucks you like he hates you, every thrust punishing you for how long you made him wait for this. one hand grips your hip hard enough to leave bruises while the other keeps the knife steady at your throat, the tip scratching against your skin with each thrust.

you cum hard around him, clenching tight as your walls flutter and squeeze around his cock, a broken moan falling from your lips. tears slip down your cheeks as he pounds you through it, your nails digging into his shoulders, the fabric bunching under your fingers.

"again," he orders, a groan vibrating through his chest. "cum again while i'm still buried inside you. show me how much you need this even when you're scared shitless."

your body obeys him, the second orgasm ripping through you as your vision whites out completely, pussy spasming around his thick length. yunho keeps thrusting through it, hips stuttering as his pace turns erratic.

"that's my good girl. been mine since the first time i saw you," he mutters as he buries himself deep inside you. yunho cums hard, thick ropes filling you until it leaks around his cock, dripping down your thigh and onto the desk.

yunho stays buried inside, letting his cock twitch before he pulls out slowly, letting the cum spill out freely. he lowers the knife, letting it fall onto the desk as his kisses your forehead softly.

"you can clean yourself up later," yunho says calmly, a polite smile playing on his lips again. "you're staying here tonight. and tomorrow night. and every night after this. understood?"

you nod, tears pricking your eyes as your legs tremble. yunho brushes a strand of hair from your face gently, thumb wiping a tear from your cheek. "welcome home, baby."

[xcryptic-studiesx]

the one where ray comes home

Summary: Ray comes out the victor of the walk.

Characters/Pairings: Ray Garraty x GN! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, injury, and PTSD

Word Count: 2.8K :0

A/N: I've been THIRSTING for some fluff and angst with Ray Garraty. His character amazes me beyond belief and Cooper Hoffman absolutely nailed the role. Kinda wanna make this into a full fanfic but lmk :P

Edit: The love?!?! Thank you for the love omg?!?

When he came home, he was different. What else could you expect after a long, grueling week of losing everyone close to you while being forced to trek on a never-ending march?

The man who kissed you goodbye through teary eyes and soft whispers of "I love you" was gone, long replaced by a thousand-yard stare and the smell of death.

How was he even alive?

That didn't matter. What mattered was that he was on your doorstep, still dressed in the same clothes, feet covered in fragments of what was left of his socks, and a blank expression washed over his face. Of course, you immediately opened the door wider - a quiet invitation that he wasn't sure how to accept.

He had just wanted to see your face, make sure that you were real and that he wasn't in some god-forsaken hell. To see your smile that he thought about on repeat through the entire walk.

Not that you'd be able to offer him a smile while he was standing in front of you looking like a dead man walking. He needed to sit down. You wondered if he had even sat down since last night. After he had walked off when the walk was done, the cameras did not follow him, neither did the Major or the crowd. Maybe he had been walking to your house that entire time.

"Ray..." You finally whispered, barely loud enough for yourself to hear. Of course, he didn't respond, just took another step towards the door. His hands were shaking at his side as his head fell.

"I'm so tired," he sobbed out, finally falling to his knees at the stoop of the doorframe. You immediately fell with him, your hands coming to rest gently on his shoulders. You weren't equipped to deal with this side of him. You didn't even know where to begin.

To fulfill your own selfish desires, you let your arms wrap around him, not even realizing that you had begun to cry until the warmth of your own tears fell on your arms. "Oh, my God, Ray," you whispered into his neck, soft sobs wracking your body.

His hands hung limply at his sides as he began crying with you, accepting your embrace the best that he could. Of course, he needed this, needed to be touched and held after a week of unimaginable torture and exhaustion. He just hadn't imagined that it would feel this good.

He sobbed out your name into the cold air, his trembling hands finally finding their way to your back. He gripped you so tight that it hurt, but you couldn't even care because he was finally touching you, and everything was real. He was alive, broken but alive and that was all that mattered.

~

You ran him a hot bath while he sat naked on your bed, wrapped in a towel that he didn't remember you having the last time he was at your place. It smelled like you: familiar and warm. You wanted to follow him as he went into the bathroom, figuring that maybe he should be accompanied until you were certain that he was going to cope well, but you allowed him some privacy instead.

He was standoffish at first, not wanting to embrace the idea of finally relaxing- finally turning his survival instincts off. How do you even tell your body that the danger is gone when it's not?

His feet burned as he stepped into the bathtub, he was finally aware of every ache, sore, cramp, and cut on his body. He wondered if he was going to die. Maybe now that the adrenaline was wearing off his body was going to reject the pain and kill him from the inside out. Or maybe-

Ray's thoughts cut off as he slowly slid down into a sitting position, his knees coming up to his chest so he could cradle himself. The tears started up again, he wasn't even sure why this time. All he could do was cry.

You heard him. You heard everything from him seething in pain to his heartbreaking cries of sorrow and fury. His goal had not been completed. The Major was still alive and there would still be many walks to come, but all you could think about was that Ray was alive, and it felt selfish to only care about that.

To distract yourself from his cries, you cooked dinner. Not that you were certain he would want to eat it, or if he would even be awake to do so, but you needed to keep yourself occupied before you went stir crazy. You wondered how so many before you had done it. How these men left their lovers behind, how the ones who didn't return home left a gap in their families because of a broken system, and how the ones like you had to completely restructure their lives because of the trauma their men were sent home with.

Hush

You put your hand to your forehead and sighed softly. How could you be so selfish? 49 men had died out there, and you were stressed because your man had come home alive. What a horrible thought.

Forty-Nine Men.

~

When Ray emerged from the bathroom he was limping and holding his side. His eyes had drooped even lower than before, and you knew he was about to crash. You set his plate of cold dinner to the side and pat the open side of the bed.

"Please come lay down." You beckoned, your eyes trying to find anything else to look at but him. You didn't want him to think you were staring.

"I can't," he whispered softly. So softly that you had to think twice if he had actually said anything. It caused you to cock your head to the side in confusion. Surely after all that he endured he would want to lay down, right?

You stood up slowly, trying not shock or scare him. Not that you were afraid that he would hurt you- you were afraid that he would hightail out of there and never come back. Ray reacted immediately, taking a few short steps before he reached you. One of his hands found your cheek, the other splaying across your back. It felt real this time. Something that he finally had control over. You submitted yourself to his touch and allowed him to take control, allowing him to guide you towards the bed.

He laid you down gently, bending down at the waist to place a gentle kiss to your forehead before he slowly crawled into bed with you. He turned away from you, which was alright, and curled up into a fetal position. You propped up on your elbow to face him and allowed yourself time to finally look at the state of his body. He was swollen.... everywhere. His legs and feet were blown up like balloons, and you knew that he would need medical attention soon. For now, you let him rest. Let yourself listen as his breathing slowed to a deep disconnect from reality. You slowly put one hand on his side, a gesture to let him know he was safe and sound where he was.

~

He didn't sleep. Of course, he didn't. Every thirty minutes or so he was waking up in a cold sweat, loud cries emitting from his sleepless body as he shot upright. You followed him every time, a hand on his back as some sort of comfort. Mostly, it was to bring him back to reality. His eyes were so bloodshot, and he was as pale as a ghost, and it was an almost sickening site to watch as he leaned over the bed and dry heaved.

"Ray," you whispered as the sun started to peak over the horizon. "You know how this goes, please. We need to get you to the doctors."

He brushed you off, obviously annoyed and scared. Going to the doctors made it real. If he could just sleep and forget about it all, then it was never real. The entire time he was home with you, waking up to breakfast and a good morning kiss. If he could forget for just a moment.

"No," he shot out coldly, his shoulder shrugging you off as he stood up and limped towards the bathroom. "I'm fine."

You wanted to argue- wanted to follow him and tell him that he was wrong. But how could you? How could you take away his last bit of control and break him fully as a man?

A sigh escaped your lips. You rubbed your sleep-riddled eyes and got out of bed as well, headed downstairs to grab the mail. He was closer behind you than you thought. You felt his breath on your neck as you turned the knob on the door, causing you to stop and turn around.

"I- I just don't want to leave yet. Please," he sobbed out quietly, tears in his eyes. He was dressed now. How he managed to do it on his own was beyond you.

You sighed softly and wrapped your arms around his middle, your head coming to rest softly against his chest as you took in the smell of your body wash mixed in with his natural scent. It was relaxing.

"I know, Ray. I know."

~

A week had gone by of you two living in silence together. You were walking around on eggshells to keep Ray at bay, and he was trying to figure out how to live a normal life again. He still had not gone back to see his mother yet, and you were beginning to think he never would.

For now, your days consisted of sleepless nights, endless nightmares, and tending to the self-made bandages on his torn feet. They were worse than you had imagined. Parts of them had decayed down to rotten flesh and muscle, other parts were bruised black and blue. It hurt your chest to see every day, but he was healing along nicer than you had hoped for.

Ray wasn't any closer to being okay let alone normal. You had tried to get him to watch the television and listen to music, but he wanted no parts. You read to him once a day, a few pages out of a poetry book that you bought the day he left. He liked those. He said it reminded him of his friend Peter.

You had heard the name a few times in passing when he was willing to talk. Just enough that you knew he was the reason Ray was with you now. You prayed that Peter's soul was resting easy.

Today was different. Ray was asleep when you woke up, and you had no recollection of waking up throughout the night. Which meant that Ray's nightmares must have finally eased up some.

You wanted to ask him about the walk. How he got along and what it was like. You wanted to hear more about his friends and what they were like. It just wasn't appropriate. How could you ask him to relive some of the worst moments of his life?

You stayed in bed until he woke up. You didn't want him to panic if he woke up without you there.

"Good morning," he groaned out groggily, his voice at an all-time deep. Ray rubbed the sleep from his eyes and rolled over to face you, propping himself up on his elbow. His eyes were still bloodshot from crying the night before, and it physically pained your chest to see.

You threaded your fingers in his hair and bit your lip, repressing a smile. "Good morning, Ray."

He groaned as he sat up, winced softly, then cupped your cheeks and pulled you into a kiss. This was the first time he had truly shown you affection since the day he left for the walk, and it would be a lie to say you hadn't been waiting for this moment since the day he showed up on your doorstep.

You kissed him back softly, not wanting him to feel like he was losing control of the situation.

And then he smiled. He actually truly smiled into your lips, which inevitably broke the kiss. You didn't care, however. The fact that this broken man of yours was finally smiling was enough to warm your heart just a bit more.

"What?" You smiled back, brushing your nose up against his. He swallowed and bowed his head to you, his eyes landing on your thighs.

"I just," he let out a soft breath and looked up at you- you could see he was holding tears back. "I want to thank you. I don't know how you've done it this last week. Taking care of me and all, y'know?"

You shook your head and ran your hands through his hair, your eyes never leaving him. "Ray... You have handled being back better than anyone could have given what you went through. I would never just abandon you to figure it out on your own."

This was the first real conversation that you two had had in over two weeks. The last one being when he broke things off with you the day before he left, if you could classify it as a conversation more than a screaming match between two desperate people.

~

"Ray! Please!" You sobbed softly, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt as he tried to back away from you.

"Listen to me, y/n," he huffed out softly, his hand a tight cuff around your wrist. "I'm going, whether you like it or not. How else are we going to afford to put food on the table? Keep the lights on and the water running?!"

You sobbed again, your brows furrowing together in a desperate plea. You felt abandoned. Like he didn't care about you but rather his main goal out of all of this.

"You think I'll care about all of that when you're dead?!" You shouted in his face, spit and tears flying from your lips as you closed the distance. Your finger pointed at his chest accusingly. "I know what this is really all about, Ray!'

His cheeks flushed a deep red as he took a step back, his eyes darting in every direction to find an escape from your burning stare. "W-What are you talking about?"

You scoffed and shook your head. You were angry- furious even. You had found his diary a few days back, read all about how he wanted to kill the Major for what he had done to his father. None of this was about you or keeping you fed and warm. It was about getting his revenge.

"Even if you do win, Ray..." Your voice was laced with disgust and anger. "What happens then? You'll kill the Major and then what?!" Your eyes grew wide with fury as you took step back as well. "You think the money will just fall into my lap all delicately? You think they'll just allow you to walk away with all of your earnings? NO!" You slammed your fist down onto the table and sobbed softly.

He tried to close the distance, but you held your hand up in protest as you slowly calmed yourself down. "You'll leave me here alone. I don't care about the damned house or the water or- or anything but you, Ray. I just- as long as we have each other, we can make it work. There is no win for me in there. It's like I wasn't even a part of your plan."

He looked at you with pleading eyes, his chest pounding in a fury of anger, shame, and embarrassment. You were right. You were never apart of his plan, ever. He had neglected to think about the fallout that would come your way because of his own selfishness.

"Fuck!" He shouted suddenly. He slammed an open hand against the wall and turned his back to you, grabbing a handful of his own hair as he tried to straighten his thoughts. "We're done, y/n. Move on, go find a man who is willing to come home to you!"

With that, he threw the door open and stormed out, not bothering to shut it behind him as he walked briskly down the cold, empty street of the night.

~

You shook the memory off and tightened your grip on the back of his head, afraid that you'll lose him again. It wasn't important anymore; it didn't matter what he had intended on doing going into the walk. All the mattered was that he had chosen to come home to you. He gave up his revenge plot to come back and give normalcy a second chance, how could you say no?

"We'll be alright?" He asked you softly, his gaze lingering into your eyes for longer than intended.

"As long as we have each other, Ray," you nodded softly, a faint smile finding your lips.

[ladybugs12]

Almost, Always

Steve Harrington x Henderson fem!reader

warnings: Angsty, traumatized Steve, mixed signals, slow burn, multal wanting, Soft heartbreak with hope?, 'Almost relationship ' dynamic. summary: You never expected Steve Harrington to matter to you, just a name, a reputation, someone your little brother admired. But after surviving Hawkins’ horrors together, Steve slowly becomes a constant presence in your life: lingering looks, quiet care, and moments that feel dangerously close to something more. As mutual feelings grow, both of you hold back, afraid of breaking what little stability you have left. In the end, your situation doesn't leave room for love, right? So you stay close enough to care, even if it means never fully having him. But how long could that actually last?

You always knew Steve Harrington.  He was a name first, the King of Hawkins High, the boy teachers watched a little closer, the one girls whispered about in the hallways. By the time you actually met him, you were already unimpressed.

Dustin, on the other hand, was not. 

“Where are you going ?” you asked from the couch as you saw your brother leaving.

“I'm hanging with Steve,” he said, dumping his backpack on the living room floor. 

You blinked. “Steve? Like Harrington?” You ask 

“Yeah,” Dustin beamed. “He’s like… nice. Weirdly nice.”

That was the first crack.

The second came weeks later, after your first encounter with a demogorgon in the Byer home.      You started playing nurse, patching up the boys when they needed. They couldn't go to a normal doctor after all. That's when Steve began to show up at your house, bloodied knuckles, split lips, that same stupid apologetic smile as if your living room had become some headquarters for broken boys who pretended they weren’t scared.

You were older than most of them, and mature enough to understand what fear looked like when it tried to pass as humor.

After that, it was small things.

Steve waiting for you before walking Dustin home.

Steve sitting a little closer than necessary during mission debriefs. 

Steve glancing at you when he thought no one was looking, and looking away too fast. You hated yourself for noticing.  Steve Harrington didn’t look at people casually.

When he looked at you, it felt like he was holding his breath.

You convinced yourself it was nothing.

Just proximity. Trauma bonding. Shared chaos.

You told yourself he was just being Steve, overprotective, loyal, painfully earnest.

But then there were nights like this one.

The house was quiet except for the hum of the fridge. Dustin was asleep. Steve had stayed late again, sitting at the kitchen table like he didn’t quite want to leave.

You leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

“You don’t have to keep coming over, Dustin is fine,” you said gently.

Steve swallowed. “I know.”

But he didn’t move.

The space between you felt charged, like something unsaid kept pacing back and forth, waiting to be acknowledged.

He finally stood. “I should go.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He walked to the door, hand on the knob, then paused.

“Do you ever,” he started, then stopped. He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

Your heart did something stupid.

“Steve.”

He turned.

For a second, you thought he might say it. Whatever it was.

Instead, he just looked at you, soft, aching, careful.

“Goodnight,” he said.

The door clicked shut.

And you stood there long after, thinking,

What would I do if I were close to you?

If wanting was quiet, almost was loud.

Almost, Steve was brushing past you in the hallway, hand grazing your arm like an accident neither of you believed.

Almost was sitting beside him on the couch, knees touching, neither of you moving away.

Almost was the way he always found you in a room, even when he didn’t need to.

You noticed how he took care of Dustin as if it were instinct.

How he listened when you spoke, really listened.

He looked tired lately, like he was carrying more than he let on.

And the worst part?

You felt close.

Not in the obvious way, no confessions, no grand gestures.

But in the way Steve lingered.

In the way he waited.

The night it broke open, it was raining.

Dustin had fallen asleep at the Wheelers’, and Steve offered to walk you home anyway, like you needed the protection.

You let him.

Halfway there, you stopped under a streetlight, rain misting your hair.

“Steve,” you said, quietly.

He looked at you immediately attentively as if you would dissapear if he looked away. “What’s wrong?”

You stared at him, heart pounding. “Why do you keep doing this?”

His brow furrowed. “Doing what?”

“This,” You say, gesturing between you two

Then space. The silence. The waiting.

He looked at you like he already knew the answer.

“I don’t know how to stop,” he admitted. “And I don’t know if I should.”

Your breath caught.

“You could...” you said. “If you wanted to.” 

Steve stepped closer, rain soaking through his jacket. “That’s the problem.”

You were so close, now close enough to see the doubt in his eyes, the care, the fear of ruining something that hadn't even happened yet.

“I think about you more than I should,” he said. “And I hate that it feels selfish.”

“Why?” you whispered.

“Because everything feels fragile,” he said. “And you’re… good. You’re steady. Dustin needs you. And I don’t want to be the thing that complicates that.”

You felt it, then the truth settled heavily in your chest.

He wasn’t afraid of wanting you.

He was afraid of having you.

“So what do we do?” you asked.

Steve’s voice was barely audible.

“I stay close enough to care. Far enough not to hurt you.”

You laughed softly, bitterly. “That sounds like torture.”

“Yeah.” He smiled.

For a moment, you thought he might kiss you.

Instead, he reached out and gently brushed the rain from your cheek with his thumb, slow and reverent. Enough to make you want more.

“I wish,” he said, “that wanting was enough.”

He stepped back.

And just like that, it was over

not with heartbreak, but with restraint.

Later, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, you realized something painful and true:

You didn’t lose Steve Harrington. 

You just had to make him realize that he was good, just as good as he said you were.  

[adeline-f1addict]

•The smaller Hamilton•

Summary: You are an Olympic golden medalist, and ontop of that also the great lewis Hamilton‘s sister. Almost everybody on the grid knew you. But Lewis tried his best to get you away from all the drivers, somehow a man called Alex Albon slowly showed interest in you

Contains: fem reader, face card: Tara Davis-Woodhall pinterest girls and Lily muni he, olympic golden medalist, lewis Hamiltons sister, smau

Inspo

My Masterlist

Part2

Instagram/

Liked by Lewishamilton, Alexandraamalenaleclerc, Scuderiaferrari, trackqueenlex, teamusa, billieeilish, Carmenmmundt and others

Secondham: Some off duty life, with my brother (obviously) and I got threatened to go training again

Comments:

User1: she is so cool

Lewishamilton: i am the better hamilton

-> Secondham: defently not

Alexandraamalenaleclerc: 😍😍

Teamusa: looking great👍💙

F1: see you at a gp! (We Hope)

-> Secondham: if you guys invite me

-> Scuderiaferrari: on it

User2: met her and lewis yesterday😭🤭

-> User3: Luckyyy!

Georgerussel63: the good lewis content

-> Secondham: always

-> User4: is she Friends with the drivers?

-> User5: almost all of them

Instagram/

Liked by Lewishamilton, alex_albon, Scuderiaferrari, mercedesamgf1, Alexandraamalenaleclerc, Carmenmmundt, kimi.antonelli, F1academy und others

Secondham: congrats to kimi, lew and george and ofcourse to the academy girls❤️

Comments:

User1: shes such a cutie

Lewishamilton: thank youu❤️

-> Secondham: no problem😌👍

F1gossip: alex albon???

-> Alex_albon: in the flesh

Alexandraamalenaleclerc: it was great seeing you❤️

-> Secondham: luv uu💘

Carmenmmundt: miss you already! But good luck in Paris💗

-> Secondham: Thank you carmenn🤭💗

Scuderiaferrari: see you next time👍

-> mercedesamgf1: nah we will invite her

-> Secondham: calm downnn

Alex_albon: had fun with you

-> Secondham: me too i guess

-> Wagsanddrivers: 💀

F1academy: thank you for the support yn💞

-> Secondham: always💗

Instagram/

Liked by williamsf1offical, Secondham, Lewishamilton, Alexandraamalenaleclerc, Carmenmmundt, teamusa and others

Alexalbon: wanted to buy her a new jacket, she said she will kick my ass

Comments:

User1: most unserious people here

Lewishamilton: shes loyal

-> Secondham: mercedes colors matched me more

-> Alexalbon: what about wiliams

-> Secondham: stfu

Williamf1offical: enjoy paris🥖

Alexandraamalenaleclerc: oh la la

-> Alexalbon: uhm

-> User2: Alexandraa gossip has entered the chat

Secondham: why did you want to come with me again?

-> Alexalbon: everyone is busy and you are an idiot

Carmenmmundt: take good care

-> Alexalbon: I will

User3: i see the couple

User4: Holy Relationship goals

Lewishamilton: i dont like these rumors

Instagram/

Liked by Alexalbon, Lewishamilton, Scuderiaferrari, Nike, teamusa, Alexandraamalenaleclerc, Carmenmmundt, billieeilish and others

Secondham: paris, Training and olympics

Comments:

Alexalbon: and me

-> Secondham: sadly

User1: dont know if its just friends or friends to lovers

Teamusa: see you on Friday 🥇🏆

User2: the rumor has it

Lewishamilton: have fun and good luck little one

-> Secondham: ik your 41 but you sound like dad

-> Scuderiaferrari: sibling goals

Alexandraamalenaleclerc: nike Sponsor but Adidas shoes 😭girllll

-> Secondham: living on the limit

User3: will lewis be there to watch the olympics?

-> F1gossip: i think the whole grid is invited

-> User4: oh damn

Williamsf1official: see you soon yn💙

-> Secondham: cant wait:)

Instagram story/

Instagram/ (lots of pics sorry)

Liked by User1, User2, Secondham, user4, Wagsanddrivers and others

F1gossip: everyone we know from racing at the Olympics!

Comments:

User1: DAMN

Secondham: incredibly lucky and happy to have them here🥹

-> User2: indeed lucky, good luck yn!

User3: even alba is there

-> User4: cause yn is always supporting the academy

User5: casually aryna watching

Wagsanddrivers: the support she has is insane

Instagram/

Liked by alexalbon, Lewishamilton, Williamsf1offical, Scuderiaferrari, Alexandraamalenaleclerc, carmenmmundt, teamusa, alba.racing and others

Secondham: Olympic Champion🥇

Comments:

Alexalbon: endlessly proud💗

-> Secondham: thank you so much al🫢❤️

Lewishamilton: my sister everbody❤️

-> Secondh: love you lew💞

Alexandraamalenaleclerc: so so proud 💘 just iconic 💕

-> Secondham: LOVE YOUUUU

williamsf1racing: So amazing! Huge congrats 🍾

Scuderiaferrari: congratulations Yn!🏆

Teamusa: magic moments are priceless🥇

User1: The most pure expressions🥹

-> Secondham: still crying

User2: ICONIC

User3: stawp the huggg

F1gossip: teared up watching all the reactions from the others

Instagram/

Liked by Secondham, williamsf1offical, lewishamilton, alexandraamalenaleclerc, teamusa, carlossainz55, rebeccadonaldson and others

Alexalbon: so proud of you🥇

Comments have been limited:

Secondham: you never fail to make me smile 😌

-> Alexalbon: ik you smiled writing this

Alexandraamalenaleclerc: i will watch you albono, take good care of my girl

-> Secondham: possesive much 🤭 (luv u)

-> Alexalbon: i will alexandra trust me

Lewishamilton: welcome to the Family albon

-> Alexalbon: that was fast

Carlossainz55: power couple

Instagram story/

——

I love her soooo this is it

Part 2? Or not? Cant decide