#i cant just throw away a year and a half

[ganondoodle]

11 pm again and i spent my evening trying to draw but ending up deleting like 5 attempts again and i just want to cry

cant even get upset anymore, i just sit here looking at the wasted time and just kinda going 'yeah ... what did i expect' and the tears are already back :I

[miesozernacma]

.

[orcelito]

I've just been. Thinking. About how close I am to Finally reaching things I've been looking forward to in ITNL

Like. I'm writing chapter 17 rn. And it should not be too long of a process.

Chapter 18 is wolfwood. Then chapter 20 ish will be the reveal of Something I've had cooking for A Bit. The chapter after that (21?) will be the first signs of smth I've had planned since the BEGINNING.

And that's just. So exciting to me. All these things I've been looking forward to getting closer and Closer...

I'm getting there. I'm getting there.

[hotroadkill]

today 2 years ago i was in america and i had the worst hangover of my life and i was in a waffle house with my friend in awkward silence bc we’d fought in a stranger’s kitchen the night before and the server refilled my water for the 5th time while i fought to swallow half a forkful of hashbrowns and she said “i know that look, y’all had a good time at the superbowl last night” and i was thinking actually we had a mediocre time at a nerd bar where u throw darts and all the drinks r named weird things and anyway my friend gives the fakest laugh ive ever heard followed by “yep we sure did” like are we in a CW show right now what was that line delivery and also what even is the superbowl i was born here and should know but honestly i’ve always just pictured everyone gathering at a comically large bowl of cereal but her nametag says leslie and she’s really nice and she’s refilling my water for the 6th time so yeah sure whatever i’m a red blooded american i’ll be anything for leslie in this moment and she tells us stories about working at bars downtown and my friend tells me bad jokes and i feel a little better even though my heart is kind of withering away because my flight is in 17 hours and theres not enough time never enough time i won’t see him for another year and a half and i won’t ever see leslie again and if i ever run into the italian stranger who fell in love with me over darts then it won’t be the same because we won’t be dancing and i’m sitting in a waffle house while the sun sets and i’m sweating gin and tequila and my flight is in 16 hours and i have so many goodbyes to say in this

city because when i was fifteen somebody threw my glass heart onto the floor of my childhood house and bits of it shattered everywhere and fell into the cracks of the floorboards and behind the fridge and i’ll never ever get them out much less back together but i feel like ive been trying for eight years all the same and my flight is in 15 hours but maybe if my friend brings me home now i can spend three of those looking for more shards even though i’ll cut my hand because time never wore down any of the hurt because time might heal wounds but it cant really do jack shit about a metaphysical glass shard its still gonna make me bleed and my friend brings me home and we curl up beside each other in my childhood bedroom thats too small for us it was really a supply room but it became my bedroom when i was eleven and i painted it blue and put up stickers of fish and never took them down but someone someday will take them down and hopefully the house burns to the ground before anyone can touch them theyre mine i grew up here theyre mine dont touch them dont please dont please please please i grew up here and my flight is in 12 hours now because i fell asleep beside my friend and he let me because he knew i needed it he kept watch even though we dont have time we never do because he has to go now and all i can give him is a hug and my hoodie to keep safe until i can see him again and fight him in a stranger’s kitchen again and the sun is gone now and i go and i sit with my dad and my flight is in 10 hours and im trying

not to cry im trying to stare at the stickers because maybe if i look at all of it hard enough i’ll get to stay but i dont because thats not how it works and now my flight is in 4 hours because i fell asleep in my childhood loft bed and now i have to leave i have to pack up and go for the fifth time and it never never gets easier and i know i only have a few more trips left until someone takes my stickers down and paints over my ocean but for now my best friend’s stepmother comes with me and my dad to the airport because my best friend is in college two states away and my flight is in 3 hours and i cry i cry so much and she cries too because she loves me and i think it is such a beautiful blessed thing that i am so loved but oh it is so painful too because i spend more time in its absence than its presence and my flight is in 2 hours and i have to go and my dad is waving goodbye and i see it because i looked back because im stupid i always look back i never look forward i’m forever walking blind through my life because i’m looking back and i can tell my dad is crying and now i have to go through TSA sobbing and it’s awkward because they ask are you okay kid and im not but i cant tell them sorry its just that when i was fifteen somebody threw my glass heart onto the floor of my childhood house and bits of it shattered everywhere and fell into the cracks of the floorboards and behind the fridge and i’ll never ever get them out i cant tell them that so i nod yes im okay and i go and my flight is in 1 hour and i hope it fucking crashes and my flight is in the air and im so far away from all those shards on the kitchen floor now but they’re hurting me all the same and i think i look kind of insane sobbing in the middle seat but how can i miss so many people and so many rooms at once and not lose my mind a little bit? i was going to tell you a short witty little joke about the time i realized i was 21 and didnt know what the superbowl was but i think i slipped on a shard. i’m sorry. maybe next time i’ll get it right. maybe in another two years. maybe you’ll never see me again. maybe this is all the time we had.

[pandoraspurgatory]

What Friends are for

Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader. Katsuki cant masturbate, and it’s up you to help him out<3

I’ve been utterly obsessed with this headcanon since I saw it on AO3, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do

Cw: Masturbation, FWB, BJ, Ball play, Slightly Submissive Katsuki, only slightly MINORS DNI

Being insatiably horny with no release, was a frustrating situation for anybody, though for Katsuki it was worse, bordering on making him insane. He heard it all the time, his friends constantly spouting “just jerk off, it’ll calm you down!” And similiar nonsense that made his blood boil. As if jerking off could change the course of the planet like his classmates chalked it up to be.

It was hard to ignore though, the United Alliance dorms had been a cesspit of horny young adults since the 1st year. Though now the class were in their 3rd year of Class 1A and were all 18; Sex was the hot topic of the year.

He didn’t understand the logic behind it, but somehow once everyone became legal adults, the taboo flew out the window and immersed itself as casual conversation.

It was only last month that Denki and Kirishima made an attempt at the infamous ‘No Nut November”. Katsuki never bothered to ask how long they lasted, though was tempted to join the class betting pool on who would loose first.

Though in hindsight the NNN betting pool was a horrific idea, with half the class trying to set up Kirishima, and half the class trying to set up Denki. Katsuki is confident he never wants to see Mina dressed up as Midnight again after that ordeal, or Mineta in a maid costume.

He wouldn’t admit it within an inch of his life, but Katsuki had never successfully touched himself. There were multiple attempts of humping into his mattress, grinding himself against his pillow and even a weird porn meditation thing he found that was supposed to make him ‘cum with his mind’. It failed miserably, he doesn’t like to think about it.

The issue is his quirk, he can only stroke and pump himself for about 30 seconds until his palms start to spark and he ends up with burns all over his shaft. There are the options of hand free masturbating tools made for people with the same predicaments, though he couldn’t bare the humiliation if his classmates ever found out about it.

It wasn’t until he bit the bullet and tried to do it again. It happened like clockwork every few months, and it always ended the same unsatisfying and painful way.

It was 1am in the morning. Katsuki was rarely up this time of the night, but this particular morning he woke up with a painfully hard erection and his dick dripping precum from a rather erotic dream he had.

A wall away, you slept soundly in your bed, covers snug up to your chin as your heated mattress protecter added extra comfort to your needed slumber. Though that peacefulness was soon interrupted by the sound of small explosions and a frustrated groan coming from the wall opposite your bed.

Having Bakugo Katsuki as a dorm room neighbour was usually pleasant. Though despite his crude personality and edgy nature; he was a clean, quiet and reserved person. Respecting the quiet curfew of the dorms.

Hence why hearing him in distress was out of the ordinary, you shot up in bed, listening for more noises as you quickly emerged from your warm sheets.

Thoughts swarmed through your mind, was Bakugo sick? Having a nightmare? Lost control of his quirk?Did a villain get him?? You two were particularly close, and you came to the conclusion he couldn’t be too mad if you barged into his room at this hour. For all you knew, he could have lost control of his quirk and charred half the room by now.

Throwing on your warm oodie and a pair of slippers, you exited your dorm and walked the few metres to Bakugos door. Hesitating for moment on whether to knock or not, eventually deciding it was futile, how could he open the door and greet you if he was being attacked by a villain?

Despite expecting the dorm room to be locked shut, the door swung open after you gripped and turned the handle. Katsukis room was pitch black, only slightly lightened by the sparks emerging from his palms every few seconds.

The sound of fabric rustling and panted breaths filled your ears as you felt for the light switch, ready to activate your quirk any second incase there was actually a villain hiding somewhere around you. You finally found the switch and hit it, bright light encased the small room, revealing Katsuki sitting up on his bed.

Before you could properly stare at his horrified and bewildered face and red cheeks, your eyes caught on to the sight of his hard cock. Leaking precum into his sheets and bouncing back against his abdomen as he tried to shove it down.

He felt his aching dick twitch, he only felt himself grow harder as he looked at your face. It was grossly perverted and Katsuki damn well knew it. However it couldn’t be controlled after his vivid dream of pounding you into the mattress, the dream which brought him to his exact situation. The meek sound of your voice tore him from his racing thoughts.

“Bakugo… I’m so sorry… I thought you were in danger”

He swallowed, if he wasn’t in danger before then he definitely was now. Only god knows who you could message and call about this later, for all he knew he could go downstairs tomorrow only to be relentlessly teased for gawking at you as he sat there stark naked. He had to say something, before you-

Fuck… what? Why were you? He couldn’t believe his eyes as you walked up to where he was and sat beside him. You placed your hand over his with a small smile creeping onto the corners of your mouth. His throat felt painfully dry like it was filled with cotton.

“Kats… spill it”

“Spill what idiot? That you’re creeping into my room like a crazy woman, how dare-“

“Seriously, people don’t get hard and decide to explode their room at 1 in the morning.”

This was it, the moment of truth he had spent his teenage years dreading. To top this shitshow off, he would have to tell the truth to the person who got him all hot and bothered like this in the first place. Fuck, he couldn’t say it, he couldn’t admit that-

You interrupted once again.

“I’ve heard of this before, that some people get too… excited and set off their quirks when trying to pleasure themselves… is this the first time it’s happened?”

He swallowed his pride, there was no getting out of this one no matter how hard he tried.

“Try every time, I’ve never been able to fucking do it”. He growled, looking to the opposite side of the room to avoid meeting your gaze.

He began to mentally prepare himself to get the ridicule of a lifetime. Katsuki was what everyone wanted to be - strong, resilient, determined, and yet he couldn’t even jerk himself off.

“Can I help? If that’s okay…?”

The word please escaped his mouth before he could even think of a reply. He groaned as he realised how desperate he sounded for you to touch him.

Only moments later you pushed him down onto his plush mattress, wrapping your hand around his achingly hard length as it throbbed under your touch. His quiet groans quickly turning into a desperate moans as you started to stroke him at a slow pace.

The dream that awoke him only minutes earlier played back in his mind, his dick pulsated as he relished in the vision of you fucked out of your mind while his fat cock was stuffed into your soaked tight pussy.

He met your gaze through half lidded eyes, you smiled at him, signalling that it was okay. He finally felt himself relax into your warm and comforting touch, low moans escaping from his lips as you focused on rubbing his tip.

He would’ve thought by now he would’ve blown up his whole room, he wasn’t sure why his palms weren’t sparking and igniting. Though he chose not to dwell on it. Out of sight, out of mind he figured.

You stroked him slowly, trying to execute a confident demeanour despite the fact your mind was racing in a thousand different directions. You had your hands around the fat cock of Bakugo Katsuki, your only weakness and crush… no obsession of three long years. You had yet to be pushed away or blown to bits, so that had to be good news of some sort to indicate he was entranced as you were.

Your panties grew increasingly damp as you listened to his strained gasps, as much as you wanted to hop up and eagerly jump on his dick and have him make you his bitch until morning, this was about him and making him feel good.

Though it was now or never if you were going to tame the beast, slowly but surely you opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around his shaft. Without any warning, he bucked his hips into your face, his eyes rolled back into his head, your touch earning a whine from the back of his throat.

It took all his restraint not to fuck your throat until you were slobbering all over him like the slut he was going to make you. But his quirk hasn’t activated yet, and he wasn’t going to risk it happening in a moment like this.

You bobbed up and down, savouring his musky scent as you began to bring your focus to his throbbing tip yet again. Hollowing your cheeks as you sucked and swirled your tongue over him, tasting his slick precum.

An unexpected, high pitched whine filled your ears as you began to fondle his balls slowly, squeezing every now and then to truely give him the height of pleasure. Feeling increasingly proud of yourself as each ragged gasp emerged from him.

Katsuki couldn’t focus, completely blissed out at the exhilarating feeling of you pleasuring him with your lewd mouth. He always anticipated himself to be rough and dominant in the bedroom, though you had him trembling under your touch.

“Hnngg… feels so fucking good… keep- mhhmmm… going pretty girl”.

His husky voice was all you needed, sucking in a breath as you deepthroated his cock as you cupped and grabbed at his balls. You tried not to gag, his length was average but his girth was intense for a beginner like you. The corners of your lips aching as you struggled to envelop all of him into your mouth.

Katsuki suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair as to try and suppress the urge to immediately spill himself down your tight throat. Where the fuck you leant this, he didn’t know. His face was flushed and his hair disheveled as you continued to suck him dry.

He hoped he’d have more warning to his impending orgasm, though as he felt his legs tremble and cock pulsate in your mouth. He could only manage to mutter a heads up.

“Fu… fuck.. nhgg… cumming”

You didn’t need to think twice, you wanted to feel his thick cum in your mouth as soon as the universe would will it, but it was no fun not seeing the action. Parting your lips from his dick, you gave him a few quick pumps as he quivered, spilling over the edge.

With a final grunt and a slight convulsion, he began to shoot his cum onto your face. The feeling of how his cock pulsated with each load made you weak. He knew there was nothing more fucking beautiful than the erotic look on your face as he ejaculated onto your lips.

His climax hit him like a freight train, shockwaves calming down in his body as his cock finally finished spilling itself. He looked at you, a dorky smile on your face as you gripped his hand.

He understood it all now, and there was no fucking way in hell he would ever participate in No Nut November with you around.

[satoruan]

CONJUGAL VISIT w/jujutsu Kiasen

Description: in which an inmate of a prison or jail is permitted to spend several hours or days in private with a visitors

More: Fem!Reader, explicit content, unprotected sex, some d/s dynamics with Toji, American prison system? (idk if other countries allow this lol?) 

☾ Ryomen Sukuna 

He's been in solitary for so long that you start to think you'll never see him again. He finally fixes his attitude enough to come in contact with others and eventually gets some visitation rights. Get used to having sex with him here because the guards inform you he isn't leaving for a long time.

 “s’too much Kuna!” You whine into the flat pillow but your boyfriend Sukuna could care less and keeps pounding into you from behind.

“Think I care slut? Been away from this pussy for months now, shut up and take what I give you.” He grits out, pushing deeper into your back with one hand, fisting your hair with the other. He’d be damned if you tell him what to do after all this time away. Do you know how spineless he had to act in order to get this visit, on his ‘best behavior’, desperate to finally be able to sink in some cunt after being surrounded by irrelevant men and guards with their heads up their asses?

“Feels s’good,” you moan when Sukuna hits your special spot. “I’m gonna cum!”

“That fast slut, it hasn't even been ten minutes” He chuckles, leaning down to bite your shoulder.

“Missed you, ‘Kuna, c-cant cum ‘out you.”

“Can’t do shit without me, bet you can’t even function out there without me,” He groans in your hair, you don't understand half of what he’s saying you just nod mindlessly and slam your hips back on his cock.

“Then cum on my cock, whore.”

☾ Gojo Satoru 

He's on a mission that requires him to go to jail. The prison warden is in on it, but that doesn't mean your boyfriend doesn't want to experience the "real deal." He convinces the warden to allow him weekly fuck sessions because he says he can't complete the mission without them.

“i-Im gonna cum ‘Toru!” you whine aloud, to far gone to be embarrassed that your boyfriend is fucking you on scratchy sheets in a bed that probably hasn’t been thoroughly cleaned in years or the fact that multiple other girls have probably been in the same position you’re in with other inmates, on the same bed.

“So tight love, haven't you been using your dildos in my absence?’ he questions as he thrusts into your glistening cunt. Watching as you throw your head back, tears running down your cheeks.

“They’re too small ‘Toru!” You wrap your legs around his hard ass trying to get him as deep as he can.

“Aww, they can't make you cum as hard as I can, can they love?” he pouts against your swollen lips. You shake your head furiously, listening to the sounds your squelching cunt makes when he thrust back in, his balls slapping hard against your ass.

“Think i'll ask if I can get out early on good behavior. I can't leave my girl unsatisfied now.” He chuckles before diving his tongue into your mouth.  

☾ Toji Fushiguro 

Your mans got locked up again! This isn't the first time, nor will it be the last. You don’t know how he convinces the guards to allow you to visit time and time again, but you won't complain. You always miss him when he's gone every few months. The guard just sighs when he sees you’re here for visitation again

“You miss me, little girl?” he grins, sticking thick fingers in your already sopping cunt. “You know I always miss you when you’re gone, daddy.” You gasp, your back hitting the cold concrete wall behind you when Toji curls into your g-spot. 

“So so bad.” you whine, grinding your aching clit on his hard stomach, legs tightening around his slim waist when you find the perfect spot.

“You wanna cum little girl?” he asks while marking up your neck. He needs others to know you’re taken and if he can't be around you at the moment he’ll make it known another way.

“Yes Toji!” You scream.

“Yes what?” He stops his fingers.

“Yes daddy,” you whisper, moving your hips desperate to not lose the orgasm you were chasing. “Please make me come daddy, please!” 

“That's what I thought little girl” He says before continuing his movements and biting down on your heavy bottom lip.

☾ Choso Kamo

Too ashamed that he ended up in prison to allow you to visit him for a while. After much reassurance from you that you don’t look at him differently he finally comes out of his shell and makes friends. Get’s out early on good behavior.

“You think someones watching?” You mumble, looking back at the camera in the corner of the dark lit room.

“F-fuck baby, don’t fuckin’ stop,” Choso whines, gripping your waist, trying to make you bounce on his stiff cock. ‘Who cares if they are, baby? They won’t touch.”

You turn back around and grin down at your boyfriend “mmm, isn't that how you got in here in the first place Choso, beating up a man for touching me?” You start grinding on his cock again.

“Do anything for you, baby.” He moans gripping your waist when your tight walls start squeezing down on him, trying hard not to bust a nut so quickly.

“Yeah,” you moan out, feeling his cock twitch in you. “Now you’re stuck in here for months away from me.” You pout and claw at his chest when Choso starts to bounce you on his cock. God, if only he didn’t beat that man up you’d have this every night.

“Worth it.” He looks up at the camera, imagining the security guard looking down at your ass recoil when he slams you down on his cock

[xxlady-lunaxx]

(DOMESTIC) SANEGIYUU HEADCANONS

Sanemi is ALWAYS the one cooking

I’m sorry but I can only see Giyuu fucking up scrambled eggs or something. Sanemi cooks (or bakes) like a professional

Giyuu having a bedhead (he’s adorable) and Sanemi waking him up by either:

throwing a pillow on his face

running his hands through his hair and a “good morning, shithead”

One or the other, no in betweens

Sanemi usually does the chores like laundry, cooking, etc (malewife<33)

Giyuu can do things if given clear instructions tho

Hmm showering together just as a habit

If either of them were mad at the other (or they js fought) before bed, they’ll probably distance themself on the futon

When they wake up they’re always cuddling though

ouugh yes they share a bed

(it was so awkward at first like “ok… i’ll have this side” but then they got comfy and steal each other’s pillows (so romantic smh))

Sanemi definitely holds a longer grudge

Giyuu gets upset if he gets ignore too long, though, and Sanemi eventually caves

Why do I feel like Sanemi would just take pictures or videos of Giyuu randomly

When he’s asleep, when he’s just woken up, when he’s eating, doesn’t matter

Because Sanemi’s in charge of meals usually, Giyuu only gets salmon daikon once a week (which is already a lot as is, but he begs Sanemi for it so…)

Sanemi used to braid/put up his siblings hair a lot and when the two are cuddling, sometimes he makes little braids in Giyuu’s hair, or pulls it up in a high ponytail (often Giyuu wakes up with braids and his hair gets a lil wavy when he takes it out later)

Giyuu’s the baby in the relationship you cant change my mind. He’s the little spoon; he’s being carried because he’s tired; he’s given breakfast in bed.

Sanemi honestly doesn’t mind (he’s used to this) but likes teasing Giyuu about it

Giyuu has a bow of Tsutako’s (he stole a spare) and wears it to formal places always. (job interview? bow. prom? bow. work? bow.)

Sometimes Giyuu helps Sanemi hang up the laundry but they somehow end up hugging always (Giyuu goes on the other side of the clothing line and ThEIr lEgS juST mOVed By THemSElf)

On weekends, when there’s nothing to do, Sanemi will just scroll through his phone and Giyuu watching TV

Giyuu can NEVER not fall asleep during a movie though. depends on the day but he’ll either fall asleep 20 mins in or half way through

Sanemi doesn’t really watch movies and just slowly turns down the volume then off to not startle him awake

I can see Sanemi just volunteering to babysit for their friends (for free<3) and just having a box full of children’s toys for when they come over

Giyuu once overfed a baby to near sickness (“I thought her grabby hands were for more :(“ - “YOU IDIOT, SHE WAS TRYING TO PUSH AWAY THE BOTTLE!!”) and was thereafter forbidden to care for the children (unless they were older than, like, 12)

After a stressful day at work, Giyuu likes flopping down on the couch and having Sanemi run his hands through his hair and hum a bit, maybe small talk

I think Giyuu is actually an open book and horrible at hiding his emotions (like canonically as a child he was like that, only the deaths changed him sooo) whilst Sanemi is better at hiding things

But like after years of living with Sanemi/js being with him, Giyuu has been able to see small telltales

When he’s lying, Sanemi’s eyes flick every so slightly away (so subtly that only a few have caught it before), when he’s upset, he’s a little clingier or his voice is calmer (though many people interpret it as tiredness), when he’s angry but trying to stay calm he’ll probably have a lot of clenched fists (his hand opening and closing x100) but behind his back haha

Why can I see them both as dry texters tho.

Giyuu tries to sound more upbeat by adding emojis/emoticons but overall it’s basically just “Ok 😁👍❤️😋😚✨🎆🎉🎊🎏🍩🔥” // 😭 yeah he doesn’t have a lot of people to text…

I can also see Sanemi being a little old fashioned in a way, idk… He knows perfectly fine how to use a phone and shit but for some time mostly sent letters (except for casual/small talk ofc)

ok that’s it i can’t think of anything else anymore!!

[satoruxx]

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: best friend!satoru is everything to me, fluff, teeny tiny bit angsty, but only bc of pining (my favorite), here to add to my simp satoru agenda, he’s trying his best but reader is oblivious (same), pls notice him rheya’s note: i cant stop thinking about best friend!satoru so i’m here to share this silly little blurb LMAO that’s it enjoy !! part 2

if satoru had known that being your best friend would be this difficult, he would have turned away from you when you said hi to him on your first day at jujutsu high.

it's not that he doesn't care about you. no, quite the opposite actually. he's always cared about you more than he'd like to admit. he can remember the way he used track the eyes of fellow students trailing you when you walked by. he can remember the sting of his nails as they dug into his clenched palms, and how suguru would pat his shoulder sympathetically when he noticed. he was sixteen at the time.

back then it seemed like he would grow out of his teenage crush, after being dismissed as your good friend for so long. but no, just his luck that these stupid feelings would grow and grow until they were tangled up around his very soul. a vice-like grip.

and now almost seven years later, nothing has changed.

"and he told me that if i wanted to be more interesting i should learn to fence, like he does!" you rant, throwing your hands up as you pace the length of his kitchen. satoru leans against the counter, arms crossed as he watches you vent your anger over yet another failed first date.

"uh huh." he acknowledges, trying to stay focused as you continue your annoyed speech. his fingers flex against his biceps, a thinly veiled attempt at controlling his frustration. whether he's frustrated with you or the man you were with, he has no clue.

"then he asked me where i was from, and then said i didn't look like it!" you rage, face hot as you finally unload the frustration you've been carrying all evening.

satoru huffs in mild irritation, trying hard not to roll his eyes. but you hear it and turn to him, half ticked off and half curious. "what was that?"

he clicks his tongue.

"you do this all the time. you always pick guys who treat you like shit. i'm not even surprised anymore." he snaps, a bit more forceful than he intended to be.

there's a silence that follows, and satoru’s unlucky enough to catch the mildly surprised look on your face. he tongues his cheek, brows pinched as he watches your expression fall. an ugly feeling that reminds him suspiciously of guilt rolls around in his stomach.

"you’re right…" you sigh, shoulders slumping as you cross your arms with a defeated shake of your head. "it's just tiring, you know?"

he turns his back to you, reaching across the counter to start slicing up an apple, trying to keep his hands occupied because they're itching to touch you. but he can't keep the bitterness out of his tone when he answers with a clipped, "yeah i know."

he can practically feel your confused stare on his back. but then you chuckle in amusement, mirth clear in your tone. "what do you mean you know? you literally get attention from random people on the street. you can have anyone you want." you laugh.

"are you serious?" he asks, eyes wide with disbelief as he spins around to face you again. you only blink at him, expression so annoyingly clueless it makes him sigh. he turns away from you once again, going back to cutting the apple.

"what?" you cock your head, not understanding why he's so forlorn about it. "most people would jump at the chance to date you. everyone wants you, you know?"

"not everyone. not the one who matters." he mutters bitterly as he places the apple slices onto a plate. you said all of it so casually, like it's supposed to be obvious, but all satoru feels is an overwhelming wave of disappointment wash over him.

"you…never mind." he relents, biting his tongue. "it's not important."

he hears your sharp intake of breath as you gasp, curiosity no doubt brimming in your barely concealed grin.

"ooh interesting! are you telling me you have a thing for someone, toru?" the teasing in your tone is palpable, and satoru feels his stomach flip pleasantly when you say his name. he turns around to face you, letting his shoulders drop as a helpless smile stretches across his face.

he walks up to you, pushing an apple slice past your lips and chuckling quietly. you're still giving him those curious little eyes as you chew, and he tries to swallow down the overwhelming wave of pure affection that threatens to burst from within. clearly today wasn't the day you were going to realize what kind of feelings he's been keeping a secret for so many years.

that's okay. he'll wait as long as you need him to.

he flicks your forehead gently, before reaching down to tug on your cheek. "don't worry your pretty little head about that, sweet thing. you'll figure it out soon enough."

[tiki-was-here]

Mark Grayson x Healer reader

Word Count: 800 smth words

this is so cringe chat i cant write teens. also im not even done with season two i hate school man.

The humming of the sick bay machines is oddly calming. Even if every inch of your body aches. Your arms feel like they’re filled with lead, your vision blurs every time you blink too long, and the searing hot feeling in your chest won’t go away.

Mark is in the cot beside yours, looking like he got hit by a truck. Twice. Dark circles under his eyes,  skin streaked with blood, and there was a bruise blooming down the side of his jaw. Still, he was adorable as ever.

“You look like a soggy burrito,” you muttered without looking at him.

Mark turned his head toward you with an exhausted groan. “And you look like someone stuffed a blanket into a juice box and called it a superhero.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

He squinted at you. “I’m concussed. Shut up.”

You both went quiet, letting the soft beeps of the machines and the distant chatter of medics fill the space. You were sore, tired, and very aware that your heart was beating louder than usual.

“Anyway,” you say, trying to change the subject before you melt into the hospital bed, “you’re still bleeding.”

Mark looks down at the gash on his side and shrugs. “It’ll stop eventually. My healing factor kicks in... eventually.”

“Eventually isn’t good enough. You need help.”

“I think the person who nearly passed out trying to heal everyone else is the one who needs help.”

You grimace. He’s not wrong.t you’d already pushed your powers too far. The blood transfusion hooked to your arm was struggling to catch up with what you gave.

But there is another way.

“…You know,” you said softly, turning your head to look at him, “my blood’s not the only part of me that can heal.”

He glances at you, eyes curious and half-lidded. “What do you mean?”

You shift slightly, tucking your arm beneath your head. “It’s mostly liquid-based. My healing powers, I mean. Blood is potent because it’s, like, concentrated.

Mark’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wait — are you saying… you have magic piss or something?”

You stare at him. 

“I’m going to throw something at you,” you say flatly, but your voice cracks with a half-laugh. “Seriously? That’s where your brain goes?”

He raises his hands in surrender. “You said liquids! I was just trying to understand!”

You roll your eyes. “I wasn’t talking about pee, you idiot,” you said, lifting your head again. “I meant… like tears. Sweat. Spit.”

“—Like, if you spit on a wound, it heals?” he interrupts, squinting at you like you’ve just suggested licking a battery. “Is that hygienic?”

You exhale sharply, looking up at the ceiling like maybe a higher power will give you patience.

“Mark.”

“Yeah?”

You turn your head toward him, cheeks burning but voice steady. “I want to kiss you.”

His mouth falls open.

“I—You—Wait, what?”

“Kiss. You,” you repeated, enunciating each word like he was a toddler. “Lips. Mine. Yours. Together. Healing. Maybe tongue. Optional. And I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while anyway, so…. Kinda killing two birds with one stone.”

His brain short-circuited. You could see it. 

A beat passes. Then two.

“You’re serious?” he asks quietly.

“I just fought a giant lizard alien hybrid with you, nearly died, and gave half my blood to save our friends,” you mutter. “Yeah, Mark. I’m serious.”

Something softens in his expression. He looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time — like all the years you’ve known each other, all the battles, all the late-night chats and almost-moments — are finally adding up to this.

“I… I really want to kiss you too,” he says, almost like it surprises him. “Like, really. I think I’ve wanted to for a while, but I didn’t want to screw things up.”

Your heart does a ridiculous flip in your chest. “You’re not screwing anything up.”

He nods once, eyes locked on yours. “Okay. Um. Then I’m gonna—okay.”

He leans towards, wincing a little as his ribs protest. You meet him halfway, hands trembling as you touch his jaw, guiding him gently closer until his lips brush yours.

 It wasn’t a perfect kiss—he still tasted like blood and hospital gum, and your nose bumped his a little too hard—but it was soft,warm, all you've ever wanted since the moment you laid eyes on him.

Your lips moved slowly against his, and for a second, you swore you felt a spark. Maybe from your powers. Maybe from him.

When you pulled back, both your cheeks were burning. 

“…Feel better?” you asked, breathless.

Mark smiled. “A little.” Then paused. “Might need a second dose. You know. Just to be sure.”

You scoffed. “Wow. You’re such a flirt when you’re bleeding out.”

“And you’re weirdly hot when you’re threatening to heal me with your spit.”

He grins — bright and stupid and beautiful. 

And for the first time in hours, you don’t feel quite so drained.

Fun fact reader was originally supposed to go down on him but I was in public and kinda forgot how old he is when he officially starts working as a superhero so I decided to play it safe

[burreauxsss]

bless your heart

background: y/n a wag for the chiefs who is dating travis kelce of 3 years finds out he cheated on her. she assures herself that she'd never watch the nfl nor date another nfl player, until a convincing quarterback hits her dms.

(all pics from pinterest)

synopsis: y/n decides to move away from kansas city due to her mental health and madison throws sneak clues to diss which backfires on her part.

notes: a mainly centered y/n and madison fic. go catch up on replacement to know who madison is. (may be a tad bit rushed but i could probably not care rn)

warning: this is a au/ alternative universe. dont read if you dont mess with au's???

joe burrow x reader x kelce!ex au

yn.handle posted a story

caption: last night in kc😶‍🌫️

madisonreaves 📍kansas city missouri

❤️ 213,483 💬 10,000

Liked by: chanel brittanymahomes and others

madisonreaves: queen of the city with chanel.

username_1: shots fired??

username_2: shes so pretty why are we hating.

username_3: one sided beef when she legit said you can have him.

brittanymahomes: beautiful.

username_4: brittany we all know your the mastermind behind this.

*load more comments*

yn.handle 📍cincinnati ohio

❤️ 325,911 💬 10,000

Liked by: skims joeyb_9 kimkardashian and others

yn.handle: bless your heart.

username_5: we all know who that caption is for...

username_6: mind you the day that y/n moves to cincy is the day that madison goes on here saying shes the queen of kansas city.

username_7: eww one sided beef 💀 *cough* madisonreaves brittanymahomes *cough*

username_8: she can stay in cincy. *liked by traviskelce*

*load more comments*

nfl & bengals

❤️ 1.5m 💬 6,780

Liked by: joeyb_9 lahjay_10 and others

nfl: battle of ohio, round 1. CINvsCLE on CBS.

username_9: joe will be fighting for his life against myles garrett.

username_10: cleveland definitely has this.

username_11: battle of ass.. wdym.

username_12: joe having legacy games while travis can barely get a touchdown. whats new?

*load more comments*

bengals

❤️ 430,019 💬 21,914

Liked by: alo yn.handle lahjay_10 and others

bengals: arrived. CINvsCLE

username_13: lowkey looks hella comfy.

username_14: we love this.

username_15: we might have a chance now that joe isnt dressed like a girl.

username_16: browns on top. we've always had a chance.

*load more comments*

yn.handle posted a story

caption: 💆🏾‍♀️ just waiting

bengals

❤️ 27,098 💬 59

Liked by: yn.handle nfl and others

bengals: 5 minutes til' showtime.

username_17: is he locked in?

username_18: zac taylor please refrain from the bs today.

username_19: browns will drop 30 on us if joe cant get a o-line.

*load more comments*

tmz

❤️ 2.2m 💬 91,294

Liked by: duexmoi

tmz: in other social media, girlfriend of travis kelce, madison reaves and his ex y/n y/ln have been trending. the apparent 'one sided beef' happened when y/ln moved to cincinnati to be closer to her new boyfriend. reaves posted a instagram with the caption 'queen of the city'. enraging many.

username_20: shes being petty and im not living for it.

username_21: instigating this is wild

username_22: brittany mahomes switching up fast is insane

username_23: duexmoi about to hop on this

username_24: y/n has been awefully silent this week, no sighting at the game today either.

*load more comments*

bengals

❤️ 22.6k 💬 70

Liked by: joeyb_9 yn.handle and others

bengals: heatin' up!

username_25: we just nearly lost to watson and winston please be quiet.

username_26: who dey!

username_27: d-line and o-line daydreaming bro.

username_28: we were struggling in the first half.

*load more comments*

joeyb_9

❤️ 837,109 💬 28,389

Liked by: yn.handle lahjay_10 nfl and others

joeyb_9: keep going.

lahjay_10: burrow!!

username_29: short dude. yn.handle: hes 6'3-6'4. might be lying. username_30: shes 5'8 for the record.

username_31: mvp burrow

username_32: stop daydreaming my guy.

yn.handle: keep fighting shiesty *liked by joeyb_9*

*load more comments*

yn.handle

❤️ 173,092 💬 3249

Liked by: joeyb_9 skims ysl kimkardashian and others

yn.handle: his loss.

username_33: shade?

joeyb_9: that color looks good on you. yn.handle: 🫶🏾

username_34: shes so pretty, travis fumbled for that madison girl- yn.handle: she can have him 😬

username_35: i love y/n shes so real

username_36: the roulette? yn.handle: correct.

username_37: madison AND brittany been real quiet. username_38: probably because y/n has been quiet too?

*load more comments*

notes: i dont think ill put this on the series page but this is what y/ns social media page looks like.

hope yall enjoyed!

[cxffecoupx]

soonyoung as a girl dad

girl dad! soonyoung fluff, smut (just a lil), requested warnings: reader has a womb, soonyoung absolutely whipped for his baby girl, mentions of him wanting a lot of kids, sex (again, i tried) wc: 925 author's notes: thank you, anon, for requesting this, because i loved it way too much. i got carried away a lil heh, but i hope you enjoy this. (and i might do a boy dad! soonyoung too, maybe)

girl dad! soonyoung who starts jumping up and down in excitement when he sees his little baby girl. he is emotional of course, but his happiness somehow overpowers with the way he keeps smiling giddily and kisses the little baby in his arms. runs over to you to tell you how adorable she looks with his eyes and your smile, but he talks so fast that you cant really keep up with him, but just keep smiling because his happiness is so damn contagious.

girl dad! soonyoung who is always so ready to shopping for baby items. he was so so excited to buy a little rocking cot for the baby before the delivery. now he buys a ton lot of plushies and toys, and you only notice at the checkout that most of them are tiger shaped ones.

girl dad! soonyoung who disappears almost immediately when you enter the clothes shop, only to return 10 minutes later with not one, not two, but three matching tiger onesies, complete with hood and all. you dont even argue with him because you know he's been waiting for this. hell, he'd been planning this ever since he's fucked a baby into you. buys a LOT of more matching clothes, but he's always eyeing the onesies with the brightest of smiles.

girl dad! soonyoung who is always around you and the baby, cooing and giggling at her while telling you jokes. he has his hands interlinked with you whenever you're together, and you know he'll he around to offer you as much help and support you need during this difficult time.

girl dad! soonyoung who learns from his mom, how to take care of your baby. learns about how to feed her, when to feed her, how to burp her, how to change her diapers, how to know why she's crying. he rushes over whenever she starts crying at night, but not before telling you to go back to sleep and that he'll handle it.

girl dad! soonyoung who dresses her up in her tiger onesie when his friends and family come over to meet her. when they arrive, they find the door open and the first thing they see when they enter is two and a half tiger looking people. jihoon asks you to blink twice if you need help, and you cant help but shake your head and sigh watching soonyoung keep up his tiger persona.

girl dad! soonyoung who feels like she grew up within the blink of an eye, and starts missing her baby days when she becomes one year old. but at the same time, he starts to learn how to tie and braid her hair, starts to buy more fashionable clothes for her because to him, "she's either going big or going home". his words, not yours.

girl dad! soonyoung who starts trying for his next baby right after his first child hits one year. he had already told you how he wanted to have a football team of children with you, and although you scoffed at him then, you did discuss to have at least 3 children. "the rest", he said, "we can decide later".

soonyoung who, although swears he loves his baby girl, is absolutely ecstatic when he learns that his mother has volunteered to babysit her for one night. and he promises to take full advantage of it. he pushes your face down into the mattress the second you agree to have more kids and thrusts in deep to make sure that you're pregnant by the next day. his low groans elicit louder moans from you, and he's never been more thankful for his mother, he thinks later.

girl dad! soonyoung who dances with his daughter every single day. it started very unexpectedly though. you were all in the living room and watching music videos until a song came up and your daughter started throwing random moves outta nowhere. this was enough for soonyoung though, to jump up from the couch and hold your baby's hands and dance with her. it didnt take long before they pulled you in too, just three people goofing around in their living room.

girl dad! soonyoung who, even though has a passion for dancing, never forced your daughter towards it. agreed, that seeing his daughter dance to songs makes him feel very proud. and although he'd love to see his daughter has a dancer like he is, he never ever wants to push her to something she doesnt like. which is exactly why he's over the moon when she asks him to take her to his dance studio or practice rooms.

girl dad! soonyoung who is always at the front row seats whenever your child's school has any programs. he's always the first to jump from his seat and give a standing ovation for anything your daughter does on stage, whether it be a dance performance or a speech or singing. he's just very very proud of his baby girl, forever.

girl dad! soonyoung who had a lot planned for his family before his marriage. and even though it doesnt always happen according to them, he's happy for the most adorable daughter who unmistakably takes after him (except for his obsession with tigers tho, which makes him pout), and for the most beautiful wife who he continues to love every single day. he's happy for this small family that he has now, but he's even happier looking forward to expanding it and maybe even have a football team of children. whatever you're up for.

[m4vestu]

Gingerbread Man - C. Sturniolo

-blurb sortaᥫ᭡

a/n: I've had this little idea for days now and I kinda hate it now but I wanted to put something cute out soon so enjoy!!

warning: not proofread

You had spent many Christmas Eves in the Sturniolo household, but this year was the first as Chris's girlfriend.

"Ma, wake up." You'd been fast asleep in Chris's room for hours before he barged in. "if you don't get up I'm gonna get trev in here to... pee on you." Chris was joking but he at least thought it would be enough to trick his girlfriend into waking up.

"what do you want Christopher" you managed to giggle out, being half asleep and all.

"Matt, Nick, and I are doing a last-minute gingerbread house-making challenge, and I want my baby on my team," Chris said that last part in hopes of persuading you to get up. You opened your eyes a bit more to see him walking over with Trevor in hand. He placed the dog on the bed in front of you and gave him a little nudge. "on the count of three, trev, just like we practiced."

You looked at them both in confusion, unknowing to what was to come.

"three...two... ONE!" Chris and Trevor both sent kisses all around your face until you were a giggling mess. "OK OK, -I'M UP, GUYS -STOP IT."

Chris pulls away and twirls out of the bedroom happy his little plan worked. You get up, throw on one of Chris's hoodies that lied on the floor, fixed your hair a bit and the mirror, scooped up Trevor off the bed, and made your way into the kitchen with the boys.

____________

"Chris!! the roof is slipping oh my god!" It was a battle between you and Chris versus Matt and Nick to see who could make the best-looking gingerbread house while one member of each team was blindfolded.

"It a little hard to keep the roof up when I can't see, baby" Chris tried over and over to glue everything and keep it together without falling before the timer runs out.

"okay we wont have a lot of time, so let's just decorate the outside." you handed Chris the piping bag with the pink icing inside and guide his hand to start drawing windows on the side of the house.

"I just have a feeling yours and Chris's house looks like shit right now" Nick yelled from the other side of the counter.

"I actually CAN see and let me just say you and Matt aren't looking so hot right now" You were quick to throw an insult back as this was natural to you after all these years.

"Bro what are you talking about right now, chris got y'all house lookin' like something diseased."

Before you could respond back to Matt's remark, Chris slathered a large swipe of icing across your face. You stand there in utter shock at what Chris had just done. He and Matt burst out in uncontrollable laughter, not seeing it coming.

"STOP what did I miss guys, I cannot stand both of you" Nick shouts unaware as to what's happening.

"no fucking way." you grab the other piping bag off the table and get ready to pour it all over Chris. Just as you are about to get him back, Chris throws his blindfold off and runs down to the living room.

You start running after him "I'm gonna fucking kill you" you say, ready for revenge.

"cant catch me ma, I'm the gingerbread man," he says now running circles around the coffee table while you tried to nag him.

Just after saying this, he tripped over one of trevors toys and right onto the couch. You took this as your chance and straddled his waist to assure he doesn't get back up.

Now that you've got him right where you want him, you pour icing all over his face out of revenge and spite. he reaches out to your sides and starts tickling mercilessly. Unable to keep in your laughter, you surrender and Chris wipes the icing off his face with his shirt.

With you still on top of him, he can't help but pull you into a kiss. You grab his face and deepen into the kiss, still giggling into his lips.

"You're a shit gingerbread man Chris," you say before going right back into the kiss.

He pulls away ready to say his snark remark before a pillow hits you both. You both turn in the direction the pillow seemed to come, seeing Matt and Nick looking back in disgust

"Can you freaks get up so we can finish the video please"

────୨ৎ────

[strawberrypumpkins]

hear me out ,

Ko-fi <- ill write anything

Ex husband!Simon x reader

Cw: Reader has a kind of nasty attitude, slight nsfw, established reationship , just throughts, not a final thought

You and Simon broke up on not-so-nice terms. It was a mistake made on both parts after a week back from deployment. He's out for almost 8 months in a year, leaving 4 for you. He spent most of his time back clinging to you and giving you all the love he missed whilst he was away….

When he came back this time, you wanted to talk about your future together and how it was going to work. You guys had been together for over five years, and he had a ring on your finger. Missus Riley in every aspect.

You just miss a thing: a Jr. Riley.

You want a jr, Riley. He doesn't. Neither can compromise for selfish reasons. He doesnt want to be a dead beat who only sees his child at best for only half a year whilst the child is growing up. You insist you can take care of a child on your own with minimal help, you just need someone to keep your busy, youre a stay at home wife you barely have anything doing.

Simon doesnt want his wifey doing any hard work, stay at home like the queen you are, his bank account is yours. Join as many pottery classes as you want, start a cafe, you can do anything.

Just not a child.

What was a civil discussion turned into a heated argument and soon both were throwing curses at each other, --you were throwing curses at him,-- hed rather bite off his tongue than shout back at you, but he absolutely disagrees. No kid, not yet, hes not ready to go that far, he wants to be selfish too.

What turns into not talking for a few hours turns into a day, then a week. You expect Simon to break it as always, he'd say he's sorry and you'd fold telling him how you were wrong, he's right, you can settle for another cat, maybe a dog, or start a business as he said. You were unreasonable, he's barely home how when would he have any time to be with you?

You knew this before saying I do.

But Simon doesnt talk either, doesn't even glance in your direction, he assumes you want space, ofcourse he wants to grab you and smother you in all his love, but he waits…… and keeps waiting… and more waiting for when you give him the signal.

You don't.

Yours mad. Why isn't he coming to you first? You sleep in the same bed at night, have breakfast together, and even stay in the bathroom at the same time, why won't he look at you? Is he tired? Does he think this was a deal breaker?

A week later another fight happens when you go out for a girls' night, when you get home you lay it all out to him. He's a prick, you hate him and he doesn't deserve you, no he doesn't.

Divorce comes after

He leaves the apartment to you, you receive spousal support until you decide to get a job, if you want to get a job, simon says.he never took his card back from you, hes the one who insisted you stay home so you shouldnt have to find a job now, just rest at home regardless of whether hes your husband or not. theres a 1 year period before it will be finalized, hes holding out incase you change your mind.

2 months of deployment and it begins to settle in just how bad it actually feels to be truly alone. You dont have and phone calls, no messages from simon ofcourse you have your cats but thats it, you dont work. You cant go out with the girls everynight simply because youre bored. They have lives too.

Drinking in your apartment on a Thursday night till you blank out is the only thing you have to keep you busy. In a drunken haze, you message Simon's number, a long rant begging him to come back, you were oh so wrong and you made a terrible mistake. The message doesn't send, but you feel better, it feels better to get it off your chest regardless of whether or not he saw it, at least you said it.

Messaging simons number became a frequent activity, you used it as a photo album, a note pack of sorts, you send pictures of flowers you take, of yourself, grocery lists, and the cats, you vent and rant in voice notes, tell the blocked number how you're feeling, how much it's raining, treating it as if it's an actual conversation with Simon. And it feels real, at least in your mind, you don't need to feel embarrassed about venting your wrongdoings to anyone, it's between you and you alone, and seeing the messages sent makes it feel real. You could do the same for another random block called, but you like seeing Simon's name up there.

Maybe there's the hope he sees it.

On the other side of the world, Simon is a month deep into a stressful mission, he's been dropped with the team at some random location, they camp out in the forest and have to sneak around like pests, he can't message you– you're divorced now - or at least in the making -, you hate him as you'd said that night and besides signal won't allow it. Then he sees your messages popping up all at once starting from almost a month ago, grocery lists, you miss him, what you've done that day.

And as he stands deeper into the forest away from the team, fisting his throbbing cock, looking at your reflection in the pot of the noodles you were eating, imagining how your lips wrap around the chopsticks as you slurp and lick your lips and edging himself by pressing his thumb to the little slit as he listens over and over to your voice notes reminding yourself to buy groceries then switching to how much you miss him so much. He doesn't stop until he's shooting blanks, never has he been so happy to hear you talk about buying vegetables.

.

You wake up one morning to someone ringing the doorbell nonstop as if they're trying to break it. Such an obnoxious sound, clearly they dont care much about anyone if they cant wait a single moment. You stretch quickly walking to the main door to rip them one when your eyes fall on simon.

He is wearing a black top, camo cargo pants, and black boots, his duffel bag in one hand and the other hand a stack of papers just back from deployment.

“can I c’m in?”

[cuntboytrainer]

Your lil bro got kicked out of your parents house- kept bringing too many guys over and they didnt raise a slut. Being the good big bro you are with your own apartment across the country, you tell him to get to the nearest airport, you're flying him out to you ASAP. No way you're gonna just let him stay on the streets- or worse- just get picked up by some stranger thats gonna exploit him.

You go down to the airport to take him home. He looks kinda cute a little overwhelmed trying to find you in the big airport, but as soon as your eyes meet he gets so excited, even does a little jump! He runs up to you wraps his arms around you and hops up to try to give you a kiss on the cheek- he almost gets your lips, you feel them just barely brush against yours. Its been years since you've seen eachother, and every time you visit home you're so busy catching up with old buds you hardly had anytime to see your lil bro. Hes so excited to finally have that chance and its infectious. You grab his case (its like half the size of him, he could hardly carry it), and as you turn to head out you just hear "Hey, me too!" as you feel him hop on your back. You figure youre so much bigger than him and hes easy to pick up so no harm. It takes a second to adjust so he stays on- arms around your shoulder and chest, legs wrapped around your waist, and the side of his face pressed against yours whenever hes not too excitedly trying to point something out on your way to the train home.

You get home pretty late, toss his bag down in your little apartment, but he doesnt want to get off your back. You're pretty tired so you bend forward and he panics and rolls off into a little pile on the floor. He laughs a bit out of breath before complaining about how hot it is. You give him a little "Damn that sucks... anyways" before turning down the thermostat just a little bit. You lead him over to your little couch you set up as his bed and tell him to let you know if you need anything-your bedroom is just across the hall and youll be awake on your phone for a bit anyways. He just thank you with a big goofy smile as he looks up to you and you cant help but smile back a bit.

You hop in bed, decide to go on grindr. Your little bro wrapping his legs around you sent pavlovian signals to your cock- usually anytime a guy has his legs wrapped around you its cause you're buried in him making sure he wrings out every last drop of cum, and with how cute he was being you just couldnt get the thought out of your head to go meet up with some cute smaller guy to get lost in each others bodies with. You find a few online to talk to, but you cant really host with your brother over, and you dont want to leave him alone his first night, so you just settle for talking and wacking off. You can hear your bro from outside the room every couple minutes toss and turn, adjust himself, settle, then move around again frustrated, sometimes even making an over exaggerated sigh. Just constantly keeping him in your mind while you try and stroke your cock.

"Hey!"

You throw your blanket over your erection. You lived alone so you werent in the habit of closing your bedroom door, thankfully the lights were off.

"I cant sleep on that couch. Its lumpy and I cant find a comfy position!"

Youve got a queen sized bed so you could have guys you fucked spend the night, so there is room for him, but you try to adjust yourself and the blanket so he cant see how hard you were. He plops himself in the bed, right in the middle specifically, so even with your bed he's just so close. You put away you phone back your hips up so your dick doesnt poke your brother and go to sleep. You wake up a couple time through the night, not fully awake, but at some point your bro backed up against you more, and out of mind fog and habit, you gently grab on and pull him closer, feeling his body against yours, not thinking about that he took off his clothes, just getting lost in the skin contact before dozing back to sleep.

You wake up in the morning, still in a bit of a daze and kiss the back of the neck you see in front of you-forgetting its your bro, just out of habit from all the guys whove spent the night. Your awareness goes to your cock- hard and burning- feeling it under some pressure while something wet just rubs the tip of it.

You remember whos in your bed and you jolt out, tucking your cock back into your pajama pants, waking up your lil bro

"Hey, what the fuck, let me sleep some more! It was way too hot under the blanket so I couldnt sleep till I too my pajamas off"

You're too distracted to even yell at him. You tell him you're gonna start some breakfast and he can grab a plate whenever hes ready to get up. You go to the kitchen to try to calm yourself and your cock. If it wasnt bad enough you couldnt finish getting off the night before, waking up your cock pressed against your lil bros cunt, feeling his heat on your tip, and it was so wet so early in the morning. You swear you heard a little whimper from him when you kissed his neck. You start thinking about what other noises you could get him to make.

Maybe rubbing your cock against his little tdick.

Getting your dick lubed up from his desperate little cunt enough that you could just slide it between his legs, frotting him from behind.

Placing the head of your cock on the entrance to his pussy, pushing just a little bit of pressure on it.

Getting so wrapped up in the cute noises your sleepy brother makes that you accidentally end up entering him and~

You find yourself just dry humping the counter lightly. Good job calming yourself down.

You bring your plate over to the couch, still a mess from your lil bro trying to sleep here last night. You push over a pile of clothes, set your plate on the coffee table and just turn on some news station. Before long your brother comes out of your room, just wearing a long shirt and sits on your lap and picks food off your plate. You try and make a big deal out of it, tell him to get his own plate and seat but he just says hes not that hungry and you can always get yourself more, and that the couch is covered in stuff so theres nowhere else to sit. You tell him that its his stuff that made the mess, but he just blows you off.

He positioned himself perfectly to tease you. His cunt right on top of your still mostly hard cock, barely held behind the flap of your pajama bottoms. Feeling the heat from him emanating right onto your cock. Theres no way he cant notice how hard hes getting you. God, you can even see part of your dick through that shitty flap, and everytime he leans forward to grab more food off your plate ("Not hungry" my ass) its like hes trying to grind on it, to get it to pop out.

When it finally does he acts surprised

"Holy shit dude, you need to put that away in front of your little brother haha Is this what morning woods like?"

You try putting it back in, but he keeps positioning himself to be in the way

"I always wished my cock was more like that. How do you get it back to normal? Do you have to jack it off, can you show me?"

What the fuck. Your brothers literally asking you to jack off with him on your lap. You tell him hes gotta already know how it works, he got kicked out for being a slut after all.

"Hey!" he punches you "Thats not nice! And I mostly just wondered what itd be like if I had a cock to jack off like that."

He positions himself right against it, feeling how wet he is while my hardening cock rests against his cunt. He looks so proud, excited, and hungry.

"I saw you last night and you looked like you were having a lot of fun. You had such a tight looking grip on it" he starts to grab your cock. You try to stop him but he just swats your hand and waves his finger "no" at you

"You're my big brother, shouldn't you be teaching me these sorts of things? Just guide me through it"

He starts before you get a chance to think, and its way too rough. You tell him to go lighter and he does immediately. His soft hands feel so good on your dick. He stays at the shaft, you tell him theres less feeling there, the heads where its the most sensitive, but you gotta make sure to give both attention so you can enjoy it as long as possible. You hear soft little pants from him, feel him grinding his desperate little boycunt against the base of your cock. Probably doesnt even realize it. He looks so focused on making his big bro feel good, listening to every order you give him. Fuck, why couldnt any of your other hookups make you feel this good, listen to commands, or even fit this perfectly on your lap. He started getting the hang of it and uses your body language to see what he should do next. Your hands grip the couch as he starts focussing more on the head. Your panting, "fuck, fuck, fuck" is escaping your mouth. You're so fucking close before you tell him to jack off the shaft and squeeze tight. He follows it to a T, as you start to cum. It shoots onto his stomach but he doesnt stop wringing out every last drop, continuing to pump it till nothing else is coming out.

He gets off off you, plays a little with the cum on his stomach, swiping a little with his finger and licking it, then flicking some onto me.

"Thanks for breakfast~ Maybe you can teach me more while we catch up~"

[mydearesthrry]

right back home to you - h.s.

a/n: had a hard time deciding if i wanted to put this out since im not too happy with the outcome but i wanted to feed u guys. in the future ill probably go back in and edit it but for now i hope you all enjoy this little angsty girl xx im also working on part 2 of love in secret !!!!!!!!!! she should be out fairly soon <3

wc: 4.8k

warnings: none, angst, fluff, flight anxiety

“Hello? ‘M home,” Harry shouted into the cold house. Not that he would even notice, but the air was dull and the atmosphere was still, hues in the normally vibrant house now gray and lifeless. “Baby?” 

“Oh, hi Harry,” A dulcet smile was on her face as she walked around the corner with sweatpants and a baggy hoodie on, a baseball cap on top of her head. She had her dirty and beat up air forces on her feet that Harry loved to make fun of, small dollops of paint on the soles of the shoe. She also had a pair of sunnies that lay stagnant on the dark blue visor, a tell tale sign for Harry that she was going out. “I didn’t hear you come home.” 

Harry hummed, holding his arms out for her to walk into. She did, but only embraced him with half of her body, one arm curling around his waist loosely while the other stayed swaying by her side. In both of their opinions, it was way too short to even be considered a hug, not even close to being an embrace, but Y/N did it purposely. Harry frowned, feeling a twinge of hurt at her unusual lack of affection. “Um… Are y- are y’going out?” 

She laughed falsely, shaking her head and turning her body to face the large windows in their apartment. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” 

Harry was still confused. “What d’you mean?” 

It’s now or never, Y/N thought, and mustered her bravest smile as she pivot turned to face him again. “I’m leaving, Harry. I’m going up to New York to stay with Eliza. I don’t know when I’ll be home, but I’ll be sure to let you know in advance, is that okay?” 

A few beats pass, Harry staring at her in disbelief. “What the fuck? No, no, s’not okay! Why- why are y’leaving? Y’didn’t even tell me? When were you planning on telling me y’were leaving?” 

“I’ve been planning on leaving for a long time, Harry. I was actually meant to leave before you even got home, really, but you’re early.” She sighed, rubbing at her temple and knowing the fight that was about to ensue. 

“Why are y’leaving?” Harry’s voice started to grow in volume, becoming harder and harsher as he tightened his hands into balled fists, trying to channel his feelings in another way rather than yelling at his girlfriend. 

“I’m leaving because I can’t do this anymore, Harry. I cant keep arguing with you every day, it’s just not fair to me. And it’s not fair to you either, really, so I’m just… taking the stress off of the both of us and making the bold decision to leave.” She explains, moving to grab her suitcases from the hallway and roll them into the living room. 

“That’s wha’ this is about? The fight we had last night?” He asks, eyes widening and mouth drying at the sight of her multiple suitcases. 

“Um— not entirely, I guess. I’ve meant to go up to visit Eliza, if you remember, we were going to but you had um— a party, that you needed to attend. So I just decided to book a flight last night after you went to sleep.” She's as quiet as a mouse, her words not staggering but it was physically obvious that she was nervous. 

“So what now? Is that it? You’re just… throwing away four years of my- of our fucking life?” Harry spat. She’d started to shrink into herself quite a bit, sweaty palms running over the now warm black handle of her small suitcase. 

“I’m not throwing away anything, Harry. We had a fight, you and I both said some nasty things, and I’m just going up to my sister's house for a little bit to clear my head. Like I said, I was meaning to go up anyway. This isn’t really about you, Harry, as much as you think it might be. I’ve been miserable here all alone and all I want is to be with someone who I know can provide me with love and attention right now, which is what I need. You need it too.” She tried to hold her ground but the tremble in her soft voice made her feel weak. 

She and Harry had gotten into a multitude of arguments within the past weeks that he had been off tour. It started from little things, like a sock being thrown over the laundry basket and not inside of it, or one of them leaving their dirty tea mugs on the counter when the sink was right there! But as small and insignificant as these things were, they also grew into arguments about bigger issues. One of the more nasty arguments had pushed her to pack her bags and book a plane ride up to her sister’s house in New York. 

The argument on the table this time around was that whenever Harry was home after an elongated amount of time on the road, he would treat Y/N as if she was his friend and not girlfriend of three years. She’d had a problem with this seeing as all she ever wanted him to do was love her and take care of her, and for some reason she couldn’t help but feel he found that hard. 

“Bullshit. I know y’leaving ‘cause your feelings got hurt or whatever, but you know y’don’t have to leave, pup. We can resolve this, don’t we always?” He grumbles, taking a few small steps forward to meet her where she stood by the door. 

“It’s entirely different this time, Harry.” She sighed, bending down to sit on the floor since she knew they’d probably be there for a while. 

“How?! How could this be any fuckin’ different? We’re jus’ arguin’ are we not?” Harry runs a stressed hand through his hair, trying to channel his energy away from his voice. Though he tried to refrain from allowing his anger to seep its way into his voice, his girlfriend could still pick up on the edge that lined his vocal chords. 

“No, baby. We aren’t just arguing. This is me trying to tell you how I feel, and you keep pushing it aside. So this isn’t just us arguing anymore, I guess I’m surrendering. I’m tired of doing this with you whenever you’re home, Harry. I’m alone every day, 24/7, and then you come home and it’s like nothing has changed. Which I love, I love how we can just bounce back, but sometimes I need more love or attention when you come back, and I just…” She starts to gnaw on her lips, trying to word her next thought carefully. “I’m tired of being treated like your friend rather than your girlfriend.” 

“What?” 

“Mhm. Besides me being alone all the time, whenever I do have you— or people around, you only ever want to keep me at arms length. The whole world knows we’re together, Harry. You’ve posted on my birthday and it’s no secret to anyone anymore. I… I just can’t understand why you do that, really. It makes me feel like I’m just your friend and not your lover.” She pauses, inhaling a sharp breath of air and willing her tears away. 

“What do you— what do you even mean? I’m always with you whenever I’m home, I bring y’everywhere w’me?” His anger just kept growing and growing, but this time he noticed that the weight of guilt that was sitting on his heart had gotten heavier with every breath he took, the weight of the pull almost being able to bring him to his knees.

She lets out a wet laugh, shaking her head before dropping it in defeat. “Harry… I hate to bring it up but— you’ve been home for what, three weeks now? We haven’t had sex, we barely have cuddled, you don’t put your arm around me in public or kiss my cheek. I— I feel like I’m losing you. It’s so hard to love you when you won’t let me. I’ve tried to be understanding and just trying to accept the fact that you’re readjusting to our normal life but… I miss you. The only time we talk for longer than a few minutes is when we fight, and that’s not okay. You know how much you mean to me, but I just can’t keep trying to love someone you aren’t anymore. It’s just too destructive to me and I just can’t. I’m sorry, Harry. I hope you can understand, and I’ll be back whenever we’re ready.” 

Harry’s now shaking with sobs. Uncontrollable, messy, heartbreaking sobs. Her words were finally making sense to him. All of the arguments had finally made sense. She was arguing with him just so he would talk to her. He thought he could die with the amount of guilt squeezing his heart right now. 

“I love you, isn’t that enough?” He whispered. 

“I don’t think it is anymore, Harry.” Lifting herself up to her feet, she rolls her suitcase to stand behind her, taking a few small steps to be inches away from her Harry. “I’ll be back, H. I promise.” 

Placing a kiss to his wet cheek, he watched her walk away with a damp smile, and against his will, engrained the image of her leaving to his mind. 

This wasn’t how he imagined they would end. 

He didn’t even entertain the thought of them ever ending; but now he feels like he just lost every single atom of his being in the quickest of moments. 

—

It was hell. 

Harry could say with full conviction that it was absolute hell to be in that house, that big house on the beach, alone. 

Nothing felt right. From the second he woke up in the morning, to the minute he slid his legs under the covers at night, he almost felt nauseous because of how unusual he felt. How unusual everything felt. 

And it was all his fault. 

Picking up his phone, he goes to text his sweet girl again when he decides to scroll up to find the reprieve of gray amongst the sea of blue. 

Harry: Please text me when you land. 

Harry: I love you, please don’t forget that. 

Harry: Take all the time you need, Angel. I’m here if you need me. I’m so sorry.

Harry: I’ll be waiting for you when you get home. Just say the word and I’ll get you a ticket. 

Harry: Take your time though, please be safe. I love you.

Harry: Again

Y/N: just landed. kinda busy rn, talk to you later bug

Harry: That’s okay, be safe. ❤️

Y/N loved this message

Harry: I love you 

Y/N: yeah love you too h

Allowing his head to drop onto the back of the sofa, his arm fell limp onto his thigh, his green eyes scanned the interior of the living room, twinges of pain and guilt panting in his chest whenever he’d land his gaze on something that was proprietarily hers. 

Her growing orchids in a handmade pot that they’d painted together on their first Valentine’s Day as a couple. 

The godawful mirror she thrifted from a random corner store back in her hometown that she begged Harry to put up. 

A small canvas filled with tiny paintings of inside jokes and memorable dates that she gifted to him last Christmas. He allowed himself to trace over that painting for a little longer than the rest of the small things placed among their living room. 

11/29/19. The first time they met. 

1/16/21. When Harry asked her to be his girlfriend. 

4/07/21. The first time they said I love you. 

12/25/22. When Harry surprised Y/N on Christmas with a down payment on a house. The one he was now residing in, alone. 

A red convertible figurine, the car they first kissed in. 

A coffee cup and a teacup, symbolizing the first date they went on, where he learned she hates tea and preferred coffee, which led to an argument on whether coffee or tea was better. 

A small tulip, representing the first bouquet of flowers he ever bought her. 

And a small pearl ring, an exact replica of the promise ring Harry had given her on their 3 year anniversary. 

He didn’t even notice the streaks of tears beginning to run down his face until he felt a teardrop fall onto his inner wrist, making him look down. 

But as he canvassed the room once more, he perked up at the sight of a small snow globe that she brought him back from New York, and that was when he got an idea. He knew it was dramatic, and a bit of a stretch, but who said he wouldn’t go to extreme lengths to get his soulmate back?

Yeah, no one ever. 

To: Eliza

Harry: Hey Liz, got a sec?

—

Harry hated flying alone. 

Since he was a teenager and stepped foot on his first plane, he was anxious even being next to someone he barely knew even though his friends were two seats away. Though he would claim that he’s always been a bit anxious and just chalking it up to flight anxiety, he knew that the real reason why he hated flying alone was because he always feared that something bad would happen on the ground when he was in the air and vice versa, and that was always his greatest vice. 

His hands began to tremble nervously as he looked out the window of the airplane, seeing nothing but fluffy white on the exterior and the soft red light of the aircraft’s wings blinking every so often. His headphones were placed over his head, smushing his curls down flat onto his head, a mask covering the bottom half of his face. His hood was pulled up as well, trying to conceal himself as much as possible. He hadn’t brought much, just a little carry on and a small tote to shove under the seat in front of him. It was wishful thinking that he wouldn’t be there for a long while, but he brought the keys to his apartment in New York anyway. 

He kept his head hung in nausea, the speed of his shaking hands increasing tenfold. The pit in his stomach grew and he had to beg his own body to allow his eyes to not stray to the window next to him. Sure, he could close it, but he feared if it was too dark he would become more anxious than he was right now. The mask covering the bottom half of his face now felt constricting— as if he was being suffocated by the thin layer of fabric. The light douse of perfume that danced around the sunflower print of the mask couldn’t even distract him, and it only pained him more that his senses were fully encompassed by her. He bit down on his lip to distract himself by the whirling feeling of nausea that now swirled around in his throat, willing away the sick that begged to come out.

The rest of the flight was the same, his anxiety only decreasing when he allowed himself to take a small nap. However, when he woke up, his nerves had heightened when he flickered his gaze from the window to the screen in front of him, reading only 20 minutes until he was set to touch down. Grasping his phone from his hoodie pocket, he aligned it to his face then rolling his eyes when he remembered he had a mask on. Lowering his phone he typed in his password— Y/N’s birthday— and pulled up their messages again. 

Harry: Good morning baby. I love you. I hope you have a good day today!! 

Y/N: thanks h love you

He couldn’t lie and say that her being short with him didn’t hurt his feelings, because it did. He wasn’t going to avoid the fact, but that didn’t mean that he liked it regardless. He felt like a fool checking his phone so often, especially when he knew that she wouldn’t be making an effort to reach out first, but he could be hopeful, right? 

At least that’s what he’s telling himself. 

The plane landed safely, nerves rolling off of his back in waves and he was more than happy to leave his flight anxiety on the floor of the plane, relieved to not be miles high in the air. There was a lull that was obvious to Harry, and he felt himself switch to function in autopilot, waiting mindlessly to enter the aisle to retrieve his bag from the overhead compartment. 

The nippy New York air was the first thing to snap Harry out of his trance. Looking down at his phone, he felt a soft buzz and soon after felt his heart beat almost fast enough to eject from his chest. 

Y/N: saw this in a store earlier, thought of u

Y/N: Attachment: 1 Image 

Eliza: waiting near terminal b for you, lmk when you get outside 

Harry: I’m outside, can you see me?

Eliza: yep. be there in a sec

Swiping out of Y/N’s sisters messages, he went to click on Y/N’s before a black car stopped in front of him, averting his attention from his device to the car that just screeched to a halt. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he trudged forward and grabbed onto the door handle, prying it open and avoiding Eliza’s deathly stare. “Um- hiiii.” 

She scoffed. “Hi, H.” 

He throws his tote to his feet, awkwardly buckling himself in and turned in his seat, avoiding eye contact but making sure she knew that conversation was open if she’d wanted to make it. “How— um… How are you?”

Silence follows his words for a few seconds, making him heat up in embarrassment. “Good.” 

“Oh- that’s good… I, um— haven't seen y’in quite a while, Lizzy,” He says softly, guilt evident in his voice. “I missed you.” 

Eliza was basically Gemma’s best friend. They were attached at the hip the first time they met, bonding over being the eldest sisters, and shared secrets. Y/N and Harry’s family had always been interconnected, close with each other even if Y/N and Harry lacked that communication. 

They were basically soul tied in every sense of the phrase. 

“Yeah, I missed you too, H. But,” Eliza starts. “You’ve been a right dick to my sister.” 

“I know,” He whispers. 

“Do you? Fuck, H, my fucking baby sister came to me crying because of you. And you know how much I love you, truly, you know I do, but I love her more. So, I just have to ask,” She pauses, gnawing on her lip and clicking her blinker on to signal her turn. “What the hell happened?” 

“I,” He sniffs, trying to contain his emotions already begging to come out. “I don’t know.” 

Eliza snorts. “Bullshit.” 

“I— I really don’t, Lizzy. I guess I was really in m’head about… well, everything. I lo- love her so much,” Harry’s voice cracks, his facade shattering into more microscopic pieces than the most delicate sheet of glass ever could. 

“I know you do, H. That’s why this is so confusing to me. To Gems. And most importantly, to Y/N. What happened, Curly? How’d we lose you?” She begs, trying to get him to explain where he was mentally. She loved him as she would Y/N, which was the hardest part. It hurt her as much as it hurt him to confront him about the issue. 

“I don’t want her to hate me! Okay?” Harry sobs, chin falling to his chest in weakness. “I don’t want her t’hate me for being away all the time, and I’m so fucking scared. ‘M scared because the press is doing nothing but talking bad about me and I don’t know if I can equally protect her as much as she does me when this happens. When it happens t’me I jus’ ignore it, but I know she can’t do that. I know it, Lizzy, and so d’you.” 

“I know, H. I know.” She whispers. 

“I jus’ wanted to keep her as far away as I could so that if she did decide she didn’t want me anymore, it wouldn’t hurt as bad.” He murmurs so quietly, he himself even doubts if he said it out loud. 

Silence followed the rest of the car ride, the only sound filling the space of the vehicle being the soft splatter of rain on the glass windows and windshield, paired with the crackly static of the stereo. The sun even seemed to be hiding away, the sky dark with clouds, little to no light making an appearance to greet Harry’s arrival. 

Pulling up to her driveway, Eliza parked the car, keeping her ignition on so she could drive away after Harry got into the house. Turning to Harry, she chewed on her bottom lip as she traced his side profile with her eyes. “You need to tell her exactly what you told me. Word for word, Harry. You can’t keep her in the dark. She doesn’t even know I went to pick you up. So, just promise me that you’ll tell her exactly what you told me.” 

“I promise.” Harry’s voice cracked in a broken whisper, vocal cords thrumming against each other as if they were rusted. “Love you, Lizzy. Thank you.”

Stepping out of the car, he knocked on the door thrice, and tapped softly on the doorbell for good measure. His hands had gone cold with anxiousness, but he wrote it off as the stark cold weather of New York. 

“Harry? Oh my god, baby, get inside,” Y/N pulled him in immediately, pushing his thick puffer jacket off of him that was shiny with rainwater, hands coming up to pull his baby blue beanie from his hair, revealing his soft curls. They shared no words as she pulled him to the living room, where she sat the both of them down and covered the length of their torsos and legs with a big fluffy blanket. Y/N didn’t waste a second before she threw her legs over his thighs, grabbing his hands and rubbing over the cold and cracked red skin, trying to exude as much warmth from her own as much as she could. 

She’s always been warm. 

Her hands have always been graced with heat and more significantly, she always tended to carry around an aura as sweet as honey and as warm as a hug with her wherever she went. Bringing their hands up to his lips, he presses kisses all over the back of hers, kissing her knuckles and fingertips that moved erratically over his own. She could feel the dry chap of his lips on her hands and down to her wrists but she didn’t care. She didn’t mind one bit. She would rather commit the feeling of his lips on her hands to memory rather than not know what they felt like at all. 

“What’re you doing here, baby?” She asks, concern etched in her face as she lifts her head to look at him, her movements on his hands not staggering or slowing. 

“Came t’see you,” He whispers weakly. “Couldn’t bear it. I need t’see you, hold y’again… Fuck, do jus’ about anything to be near y’again.” 

Her heart twisted with the most intense emotion that she could only describe as heartbreak. “You— you got on a plane by yourself just to come see me?” 

“Would do jus’ about anything f’you, sweet girl. Of course I would go on a plane jus’ by myself if it meant I could hold you.” He admitted. He avoided eye contact with her, keeping his eyes trained on their conjoined hands that now lay stagnant on the soft fabric of the blanket. 

“Harry,” She whispers. “Why are you here, my love?” 

“I felt too guilty t’let you leave like that,” He says, gnawing on his bottom lip to will away the tears begging to escape. “I couldn’t let y’go without telling y’I loved you. And I didn’t…” He pauses, struggling for air as he over explained. “I didn’t even explain m’self. I didn’t tell you I loved you. I didn’t kiss y’back. I didn’t even tell y’to be safe.” 

He’s fully sobbing now, Y/N tracing his side profile with his eyes, jittering with fear and anxiety. “It’s okay, hey, baby, listen,” Grabbing his chin with the tips of her fingers, she turns his head to hers, resting his forehead atop of hers. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I just needed time to think and I didn’t want to lash out on you because I didn’t have time to. We’re okay, baby. I promise.” 

He shook his head while she spoke, tears falling on the fluff of the blanket with every movement. His eyes were clenched as if he was in pain, and uneven erratic breaths fell from his mouth. “Nonono. I should— should’ve listened to you. I did- didn’t mean t’treat y’like tha’,” Harry’s accent had gotten heavier with how much emotion he was feeling, stumbling over his words as if he was drunk. 

“And I should’ve explained myself more. It’s not your fault, H. Please baby, breathe,” She begged, tightening her grip on his hands as she pleaded with her nose slotted next to his, every whispered beg pushing her lips forward to lightly brush against his raw-bitten ones. “There, that’s it.” 

His breaths began to even out, just the slightest bit. His hands still shook dramatically, veins in his neck that once protruded from the force of his cries now retracting. “I’m sorry.” 

“Harry, stop apolog-“ 

“No. I have t’say this before I leave because if I don’t, I don’t think I ever will. I— I didn’t mean t’push y’away. I was trying to protect m’self but I didn’t see that it was hurting y’too. It wasn’t my intention, and now I realize it wasn’t the right thing t’do.” He sniffles, pulling back from her face to hold eye contact for the utmost emphasis on his words. 

“I tried to keep you far away because if you ended up resenting me for being away all the time it would hurt less if you decided to leave me. Paired with everything that’s being said in the media about m’right now, I tried t’keep y’as far away as I could so that if everything came crashing down on me, I would’ve had to cope with losing y’less than everything else. And I kept picking fights with y’so that if— or when y’got too fed up w’me, you’d leave me yourself instead of something else forcing y’to leave me. I think it was all subconscious, seeing how I freaked out on y’when y’told me you were leaving. I guess I didn’t really prepare myself for when it was really going t’happen. I’m really, really sorry, Angel. I really do hope y’can forgive me.” 

She’s silent. It scares him, he can’t lie. He takes her silence as an answer and pulls his hands from her grasp and moves her legs softly off of his thighs, standing up and brushing off his pants in an attempt to stall. She’s still mute, and he takes it as his cue to go. There’s still tears streaming down his face, but they’re silent. Like he doesn’t even want to acknowledge that they’re falling at all. 

“I love you.” He whispers, before turning and walking to the door. Placing his hand on the knob, he turns it, and his heart follows the motion with a sharp twist that he thinks he feels in his entire body. He’s gnawing in his lip to avoid breaking down in front of her, even though she’s arguably seen him at his worst and most vulnerable times. Opening the door, he’s greeted with the harsh cold air, biting at his skin so aggressively he feels like his tears have now frozen to his face. Bearing the pain, he forced himself to take the step out the doorway and onto the porch, on autopilot as he let his feet decide his motions. 

“Harry, wait,” Y/N pleaded, running out behind him, meeting him in the middle of the driveway in nothing but tiny shorts and a stolen crewneck of his that she'd haphazardly stuffed into her luggage. “I love you. I love you more than I could probably ever explain, and I— I just need you to know that. If you’re done with me or done with this, that’s okay, I just need you to know that I love you.” 

“I love you. Always.” He whispers, lips trembling with sadness. 

“You know I always will, right?” She asks, placing a warm hand onto his wet and cold cheek.

“I know, baby. I do.” He says. 

“I’m here whenever you want me. I promise.” She pleads, coming up to reach his lips, placing a soft kiss to his cold ones. 

“Come home, please.” 

“Always, H. I’ll always come right back home to you.”

[cokoladasljesnjakom]

tag you're it

tag you're it - shes a ruthless killer. she does not care if someone dies on her watch. her moves are like shadow. she is a shadow. once you see her, its too late. its not her problem. she cant complain, but what she can do is to comply thats what is she made for. thats what they made her do. but once she escapes from their grasp, she searches for him. for her brother. but of course what goes around, comes around. and thats is when she meets him. the winter solider. and oh yeah the rest of the avengers.

bucky barnes x fem! reader

word count: something like 8k

warnings: blood, panic attack (again), guns,bombs and uh lots of tears so yeah :) have fun

taglist: @svtpbts :)

a/n: here she is... ready to serve yall and YALL BETTER LIKE HER. i spent like a week and a half trying to finish her and i couldn’t. idk why tho but honestly? who gives a shit. have fun honey bunnies. just to be sure this is NOT proofread! so if you see mistakes... get over it.

masterlist

"Wake up! Come on, kids! Time for school!” Veronica’s voice rang through the house as she rushed from room to room, juggling breakfast, backpacks, and her own work uniform. She barely had time to tie her hair back before heading to Max’s room.

Pushing the door open, she expected to find him tangled in his blankets, grumbling for five more minutes. Instead, he was already sitting up, wide awake, grinning from ear to ear. “Mommy, I’m ready! Ready for school!” he announced proudly, bouncing on the bed like he couldn’t wait to start the day. Veronica’s heart swelled as she crouched beside him, hands on his tiny shoulders. “My big boy,” she whispered, pressing kisses to his soft, chubby cheeks.

Max giggled, his laughter bright and full of life. He clumsily returned the favor, smacking a sloppy kiss against her cheek. She chuckled, wiping off the mess but never once complaining. That was Max—her little sunbeam. As she looked at him, she couldn’t help but think of the day he was born—the way she had sobbed when she held him for the first time, overwhelmed by love. And then, the moment Y/N had met him, standing on the bed, wide-eyed with curiosity.

Veronica had barely gotten the words out— "Sweetheart, meet your baby brother. His name is Max."—before Y/N gasped dramatically. “What?! But you said the baby was in your tummy, Mommy!”

Veronica had burst into laughter, tucking a strand of hair behind her daughter's ear. “Well, he’s here now. I know you’ve been waiting to meet him.”

Y/N had stared at Max for a long moment, her little brows furrowed in concentration. Then, slowly, her frown melted into awe. “He’s so pretty,” she whispered, as if speaking too loudly would scare him away.

And just like that, a bond was formed. Wherever Y/N went, Max followed. And wherever Max was, Y/N was never far behind.

Now, years later, Veronica smiled at how little had changed. “Wanna wake up your sister?” she whispered. Max’s eyes lit up instantly. “Yes, yes, yes! Let’s wake up Y/N!”

Before she could stop him, he was already racing down the hall, his tiny feet thudding against the floor. He burst into Y/N’s room like a tiny hurricane, jumping onto her bed and shaking her with all his might. “Y/N, wake up! Wake up! It’s time for school!”

A low groan came from beneath the

blankets. “Max, move,” Y/N mumbled, pulling the covers over her head. Then, peeking out with one eye, she turned to their mom. “Can I stay home today? Please? I really don’t wanna go anywhere.”

Veronica gave her a sharp look, the kind only a mother could master. Y/N huffed but rolled out of bed anyway, throwing the blankets aside with dramatic flair.

“Ten minutes,” Veronica said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I want you downstairs, ready to go." By the time Y/N trudged into the kitchen, hair brushed, backpack slung over her shoulder, breakfast was already waiting for her. She plopped into her seat, grabbing the bowl of cereal. “Thanks, Mom,” she muttered before shoveling a spoonful into her mouth. Across the table, Max, munching on his PB&J, pointed at her and started giggling. “You have milk on your face!”

Y/N glared at him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand while their mother watched with an amused smile.

For a moment, everything was perfect.

And none of them knew—none of them could have known—that this was the last normal morning they’d ever have.

3 months later -

Max gasped awake, choking on air as if he had been drowning. His heart pounded violently against his ribs, sweat clinging to his skin like ice. His hands trembled as he gripped the sheets, trying to remind himself— It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.

But it was. The echoes of gunfire still rang in his ears. The scent of blood, smoke, and something burning filled his lungs. In his head, he could still see her—could still hear her. His mother’s voice, screaming. Shadow’s cries. His own younger self, frozen in place, unable to move, unable to help.

And then, the silence.

The silence was always the worst part.

Max turned onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut, as if that could somehow erase the images behind them. His fingers curled into fists against the mattress, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. It never ended. No matter how far he ran, no matter how much time passed, the nightmares never stopped. Some nights, he thought maybe—just maybe—if he could endure it long enough, they would finally fade. But every time he closed his eyes, the past dragged him back.

5:00 AM.

The red numbers on his clock glared at him like an omen.

Max exhaled sharply and sat up, running a hand through his damp hair. He glanced to his side—his fingers had accidentally brushed against hers in his sleep. That small, almost insignificant touch was enough to ground him, just a little.

But it also reminded him of how fragile everything was. He wasn’t getting any more sleep tonight.

With a quiet sigh, he pushed the blankets off and forced himself out of bed. His body ached in protest, but he ignored it, walking toward the bathroom. After brushing his teeth and splashing his face with cold water, he stepped into the kitchen, pulling on his running shoes.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Sam’s voice made him pause.

Max looked up to find him leaning against the counter, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Max hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. You know how it is.”

Sam studied him for a second. He didn’t push. He never did. Then, as if shifting gears, he smirked. “So, what, you finally decided to stop being lazy and go on a run with me?”

Max huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, well… figured it was time to kick your ass and prove you’re getting slow.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, really?”

Max finished tying his laces and stood. “Yeah, really.”

Sam hummed in mock thought. “Perfect. That means I can finally push you into that lake I told you about.” Max scoffed, already heading for the door. “Dream on, shithead.” He flipped Sam off over his shoulder.

Sam followed, shaking his head as he locked the door behind them. The world was still dark, the air crisp and biting against their skin.

He smirked. “Oh, I do dream about that shit. Every day, buddy.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “You need new dreams, man.”

Sam grinned. “Nah, this one’s too good.”

Then, without warning, he took off.

Max blinked. “Wait, aren’t we supposed to warm up first?” Already halfway down the street, Sam shouted back, “I did!” before flipping him off.

Max cursed under his breath before sprinting after him.

The nightmares never stopped. The past never let go. But for now, running—chasing after Sam, feeling the wind against his skin—made him feel like he could breathe again. At least for a little while.

After ten minutes of running—ten long-ass minutes of Sam teasing him about anything he could think of—Max was starting to regret this.

Sam, barely out of breath, smirked over at him. “You tired yet? Or do you wanna call it quits before I have to carry your ass home?”

Max shot him a glare, still keeping pace. “I should be asking you that, old man. You’re running like this is your last day on Earth.” He paused, grinning. “Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if it is.”

Sam let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, yeah, keep talking, tough guy. We’ll see who’s still standing at the end of this.”

Max, despite the burning in his legs and the way his lungs fucking ached, smiled wide. “Uh-huh, sure. I’m dying here as we speak, y’know?”

Sam glanced at him. “Nah, if you were dying, you wouldn’t be running your mouth.”

Max huffed out a breath, shaking his head. His muscles were screaming at him to stop, but he pushed through it—he had to. The exhaustion, the burn, the ache in his chest… It was better than feeling nothing.

Sam must’ve noticed something shift in his expression because his teasing softened just a little. “Hey,” he said, nudging Max’s arm as they ran. “Still with me?”

Max blinked, snapping out of whatever dark thought was creeping in. He swallowed, forcing himself to focus on the pavement beneath his feet.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Still here.”

Sam gave him a look but didn’t push it. Instead, he jerked his chin forward. “Race you to the end of the block.”

Max raised a brow. “The hell? I thought we were pacing ourselves?”

Sam smirked. “What, scared you’ll lose?”

And just like that, the tension cracked.

Max snorted. “You wish.”

Then, before Sam could react, he took off.

Sam blinked. “Oh, you son of a—”

But he was already sprinting after him.

For the first time in a while, Max wasn’t running from something. He was just running.

-

They had been running for a while when another figure joined them. Blonde hair, white shirt clinging to his muscles, running like the damn ground was on fire beneath his feet.

Sam was the first to notice. His eyes widened as he watched the guy sprint past them at an almost inhuman speed. “Damn, how’s he running so fast?” He turned to Max, mouthing, Are you seeing this?

Max turned his head, catching a glimpse of the guy. And yeah, he was fast. Stupidly fast. “Dude, he’s gotta be winning this one. He just ran, like, two miles in a minute.”

Sam shot him a skeptical look. “Since when do you know math?”

Max glared at him. “What? Am I wrong, though?” He huffed, nodding toward the runner. “Show-off.”

Before Sam could respond, a voice called from behind them.

“On your left.”

Max, without missing a beat, deadpanned, “Uh-huh. Yeah, okay.” Sam gave him a weird look, but Max just shrugged, picking up his pace slightly.

A few minutes later—

“On your left.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh. On our left. Got it.”

Another few minutes passed, and Sam could already feel it coming. He didn’t even have to look over his shoulder to know the guy was about to say it again. And right before the words could leave his mouth, Sam called out, already annoyed, “Don’t you say it! Don’t you say it, man!”

The runner just smirked. “On your left.”

“Oh, come on, man!” Sam groaned, finally slowing down while Max doubled over laughing.

Sam threw his hands up. “Did you see that shit? Who even does that?!”

Max was still wheezing, hands on his knees, shaking his head. “Dude’s out here making us look like amateurs!"

Sam pointed at him. “Speak for yourself. I’ve still got some dignity left.”

Max raised a brow. “Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.”

After that, they gave up from running, more like max gave up because, damn he never ran this long before.

Wheezing and catching their breaths, they leaned on a nearest tree and rested their backs on it, while max tried to speak, the man who was with them not while ago spoke up, a smile on his face. "Need a medic?"

Sam broke out in a laughter and said "I need a new set of lungs" while Max huffeed and said right after sam "I need new legs. and a cold shower. Like a really cold one."

Sam continued, his hand still on his chest, trying to steady his breathing. "Dude, you just ran 13 miles in 30 minutes."

And the man said, while not sweating a breath or anything at all. "Guess i had a late start.

Max, grinning from ear to ear, took a swing from his water bottle and said. "Yeah? well you should be ashamed of yourself. you should take another lap." And looked at him sceptiply and added again "I assuned you just did right?" Then he turned to sam and asked him "Can you believe that?" while sam shook his head and drank his water too.

The man now asked sam "what unit you were in?" and Sam answered "58th pararescue. but now im working at the VA." While max answered, noticing the mans stare at him. "Im unemployed. Living on his back so, yeah, i am tehnically his problem" and sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, a very expensive one."

The man noded, while Sam extended his hand at the man to lift him up from the ground and introduced himself "Sam Wilson." while Max did the same, only he lifted himself off the ground alone. "Max harrison."

And the man finally introduced himself back while taking sams hand and lifting him off the ground. "Steve Rogers."

Sam laughed and answered while pointing to steve. "yeah, i kinda put that together."

Max, however being the only one interested in now, steve rogers, the Captain America asked him, his hands gripping the bottle in his hands, trying to keep himself from fanboying. "Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing."

Sighing, steve answered "it takes some getting used to. good to meet you Sam and uh Max."

Sam now seeing a chance to know about steve asked him, curiosity peeking out. "its your bed right?"

Steve, now turning around to face sam again asked "what?"

Sam continued "your bed, its too soft. when i was over there, i'd sleep on the ground, use a rock as a pillows like a cavemen." and Max snorted in the backround, after hearing the word 'cavemen' coming out from sam's mouth, and Sam turned around at hit him across his head, while max grumbled.

"Yeah, well I bet your head was too big to fit on a pillow anyway." Max teased Sam.

Sam sassed back at Max "your ass is too big for my couch and yet youre there sleeping like a little princess you are."

Sam now turned his head to face Steve, who had a shit eating grin on his face, looking at Max and Sam bickering. "now im home, lying in my bed -"

Steve interrupted him. "feeling like im going to sink into the floor, like a marshmallow." after a second he asked sam. "how long?"

Sam answered looking around. "2 tours."

Max asked him, now interventing in the conversation. "you must miss the good old days, huh?"

Steve, however shrugged and pointed some things out. "well the things arent that bad. foods a lot better, we used to boil everything." Max grinned. “Okay, first—hot dogs. You gotta try ‘em. Ketchup, maybe a little sugar on top—”

Sam groaned. “Oh my God, please don’t listen to him.”

Max ignored him, continuing, “Also, there’s this new restaurant that just opened. People say their food is amazing. I mean, I haven’t tried it yet, but—”

Sam turned around to face Max and told him to calm down, while Steve looked at them loving the way that Max got excited to talk about new places hes definitely going to visit after. "Internet, so helpful. i've been reading a lot, trying to catch up."

Sam suddenly remembered something and told steve about the old singer. "Marvin Gaye, 1972, trouble man sound track."

Steve took his little notebook out his back pocket and said "I'll put it on the list." and wrote out the artist's name and the name of the resturant that Max told him about, when max saw that, he punched Sam on the shoulder to celebrate his victory.

Steve’s phone buzzed and he sighed before saying bye to Max and Sam. "Alright Sam and Max. duty calls. thanks for the run." and he added teasingly "if you want to call that running."

Max lifted his eyebrows in suprise and called out "okay, cmon man, we tried okay. you're just stupid fast." while Sam said, laughing "oh thats how it is?" and Steve laughed and said while shaking sams hand "ooohh, that's how it is."

Steve pulled his hand out, ready to walk away sam called out "anytime you want to come by and visit me at the VA, trying to make me look cool in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know."

While Max said "yeah, well if you want to visit me, which it would make more sense, and hang out with me, im always here."

Steve laughed and said "i'll keep it in mind." and while he walked away, a car pulled in fron of him and a women called out, or lets say the black widow, Natasha Romanoff. "hey fellas. either of you know where smithononias is? im here to pick up a fossil."

Steve now walked to the car and said "thats hillarious." while closing his door getting in the car. buckling himself in he turned around and said to the boys. "can run everywhere."

Max and Sam laughed and said "yeah, no shit you cant." and the car drove out from their sight. the moment it did, Max jumped up and down while yelling to Sam "dude i just met Captain America!" while Sam laughed and both of them went home, while Max ratted Sam's ear off about everything.

H.Y.D.R.A. SAFEHOUSE

The mans hands trembled as he gripped the files to his chest, his breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve deleted everything when he told me to.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, but it did little to steady the panic clawing at his ribs. Reaching the secured door, he swiped his keycard. A beep. The doors hissed open. He slipped inside. The computer sat waiting, its screen casting a dim glow over the desk. He dropped into the chair, fingers flying over the keyboard, searching for the file he was supposed to have erased. Come on… come on…

Then—there it was. The man exhaled sharply, relief crashing into him. He clicked it open— And froze. Everything was still there. Every bit of data, every classified detail, untouched. But something felt wrong. Like someone had been here before him. Like the most important piece was just… gone. His grip tightened around the flash drive in his hand. No. I need to check—

"William?"

The thick Russian accent sent a bolt of ice down his spine.

Slowly, he turned.

Ivan Aslanov stood in the doorway, watching him with a cool, unreadable expression.

"What are you doing here?" Ivan asked, his tone even.

William swallowed hard. "I—uh, I was just checking the data for the mission tonight. Making sure everything’s in place." His heart slammed against his ribs. Too fast. Too hard.

Ivan’s sharp gaze lingered on him a second too long before he finally nodded. "We have all the data in the office. Come." He gestured toward the door. "We have work to do."

William hesitated. Then, stiffly, he logged out of the system and powered it down.

He stepped away from the desk.

And didn’t notice—The flash drive. Still plugged into the computer. Ivan’s gaze flicked to it the moment William passed him, his expression giving nothing away.

He waited until the sound of William’s footsteps faded down the hall. Then, in one smooth motion, he plucked the drive from the port and slipped it into his coat.

For the first time in years, he had a lead.

Now, he just needed a plan.

To get her out.

Ivan walked with measured steps, his thoughts miles ahead of him. The risks. The consequences. What could go wrong—and what had to go right. Three months of planning, of waiting for the perfect moment. Three months that had stretched into what felt like a lifetime.

Now, it was almost time.

Beside him, William remained oblivious, too focused on the mission at hand. They entered the office, where a large table was covered in blueprints, maps, and classified files. Everything was set. The fake pirate attack. The bitter Frenchman with his personal grudge against Captain America. The so-called "hostages"—S.H.I.E.L.D. agents placed in just the right position to play the victims.

But Ivan barely saw any of it. Tonight wasn’t about the mission. A voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and commanding. An American voice. Alexander Pierce. “Is everything ready for tonight?”

Around the room, the scientists muttered in unison, “Yes, sir.”

Pierce nodded, his gaze sweeping over the room like a final warning. “Good. Everything has to go exactly as planned.” His tone left no room for failure.

Another round of nods. Another “Yes, sir.”

Satisfied, Pierce turned and left.

Ivan exhaled slowly.

First step: the mission. Let S.H.I.E.L.D. play hero. Let them think they were winning.

Because tonight wasn’t about them.

Tonight was about her.

BACK AT THE S.H.I.E.L.D. COMPOUND

Steve and Natasha made their way down the hall toward Nick Fury’s office, their conversation light but persistent—at least on Natasha’s end. “Oh, come on, Steve,” she teased, a knowing grin on her face. “That girl at the front desk? She’s cute. And her name is Darcy. Sounds like she was made for you.”

Steve groaned as they stepped into the elevator. “Is she the one who stares at me every time I walk by?” Natasha nodded.

Steve sighed, running a hand over his face. “Yeah, no. Too many tattoos. And she’s always looking at me weird.”

Natasha let out a dramatic sigh and shook her head. “Because she likes you, dumbass. And she probably wants a piece of that—” Steve shot her a glare as they reached their floor. She smirked. “I mean, can you blame her?”

They stepped out of the elevator and walked toward Fury’s office. Steve raised his fist to knock—maybe a little too hard.

BANG.

Natasha snorted. “Easy there, soldier. You planning to break the door down?”

Before Steve could respond, the door swung open, revealing Nick Fury’s unimpressed face. He eyed Steve, then the door, then back at Steve. “You knock like that again, and you’ll be paying for a new door, Captain.”

Steve scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, sir.”

Fury stepped aside to let them in, the door shutting automatically behind them. “Lock it,” he ordered.

The AI responded instantly. “Doors locked.”

Natasha dropped into a chair, crossing her legs as she made herself comfortable. “So, what’s the emergency, Nick?”

Steve remained standing beside her, arms crossed.

Fury exhaled, leaning back in his chair. He twirled a classified file between his fingers before tossing it onto the table. “We have a mission. And I need you two on it.” He glanced at Natasha. “I tried to get Stark, but the little asshole won’t answer his phone. So congratulations, you’re my second choice.”

Natasha placed a hand on her chest mockingly. “Wow. I’m honored.” Steve, ignoring the banter, stepped forward. “What’s the mission? And when do we start?”

Fury nodded toward the file. Natasha picked it up first, skimming through the pages. Her eyes flickered with interest as she read. “S.H.I.E.L.D. agents taken hostage…” she muttered. “Pirates. French ones, apparently.” She raised an eyebrow. “They really thought taking S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives hostage was a good idea?”

Fury scoffed. “These guys aren’t just pirates. They’re stupid pirates. But stupid people can still be dangerous. And they’ve got hostages.” Natasha handed the file to Steve, who flipped through it quickly before nodding. “We’ll get them back.” He shut the file and placed it back on the table. “You have my word, sir.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned toward the door. “Romanoff, I’ll be waiting.”

Natasha smirked. “Aye aye, Captain.”

As soon as the door closed behind Steve, Fury’s expression shifted. His usual cool demeanor remained, but his voice dropped just slightly. “You know your real mission, Romanoff.” Natasha’s smile didn’t falter as she stood, adjusting her jacket. “Take the most important data, as much as i could and try not to sabotage the mission.Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

Fury gave her a long look. Natasha held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.” Then, with a wink, she strolled out the door.

When it shut behind her, Fury let out a slow breath, his gaze drifting to the city skyline through his window. For three months, he had been chasing shadows. Following whispers about her. The one who nearly put a bullet in his brother’s head. The one who had disappeared without a trace.

Tonight, that would change.

Or at least, he hoped it would.

2 HOURS BEFORE THE MISSION -

walking slowly and trying not to get attention on himself, Ivan had the files thightly in his hands, while the stick was deep in his lab coat, hidden from everyone.

the reason he was on the ship and not someone else? because he was the only one who knew the code to the doors he needed to get into. yeah,yeah he knew, a stupid reason, but he needed one. to do what he wanted to do for months.

when walking, every guard would nod his head to greet him and he would do the same. finally, reaching the doors, his hand reached for the card he now had and scanned it, making the doors open with a quiet hiss. now, youre asking, but how did he got the card, after all these years? well heres it how he got it.

flashback-

walking out from his office, his case in his hands, Ivan's thoughts were all around the place. how would he get the card, how would he find out what did William did, and how to break her free.

his fingers thightly gripped the case, while he entered the room where the winter solider stood. it wasnt a mission, or anything at this point, it was just the siencetists doing their own thing. experimenting on him. breaking him. all over again. his stomach churned at the sight of, before the strongest solider ever known, now like a broken toy, thrown away like nothing. 'it must’ve been the trigger words that affected this.' he had thought. the older siencetist, thrown across the room and his breathing shallow. 'maybe a few broken bones, here and there.'

trying to foucus on the solider, he stepped close to him, and spoke carefully, whispering with his hand out, like hes trying to ground himself. "солдат? ты меня слышишь?" (solider, can you hear me?) and the way the solider spoke, made him stop in his tracks, his footsteps now quiet, like he was afraid to scare him off. "цель устранена, миссия выполнена успешно." (target eliminated, mission successful.)

Ivan looked at the other side and saw a medic on the man trying to get him up, and the guy from the medic, nod his head in the was to say that the siencetist is fine. looking back at the solider, Ivan nodded his head yes, as in making believe for the man in front of him that he susccssesed.

"молодец солдат" (well done solider) Ivan said, while inching closer to the solider. "но мне нужно, чтобы ты сейчас вернулся и рассказал мне, что ты сделал." (but i need you to come back now and tell me what you did) and the solider stiffened, his back now straight and coice clipped. "Я убил цель и готов вернуться." (I killed the target and am ready to return)

Ivan now looking at the mans face, the blood running on his forhead, busted lip, fractured bones and probably twisted arm, asked him once again. "почему и кто вам сказал это сделать?" (why and who told you to do this) and the solider looked at him, pointed his head at the mans direction and said. "он мне так сказал" (he told me so) and Ivan nod his head once again, before telling the solider in a calm,deep voice. "Ты снова идешь спать. Спи спокойно, солдат." (you're going to sleep again. sleep well, soldier.) and the way his eyes crumbled, Ivan turned away, because he knew, that is he stayed there, he would to anything to get him out.

stepping away from the room, he saw William fiddgeting with his fingers and murmuring something to himself. seeing the key card hanging around his neck, he needed something do discract William, so he could at least get a copy of the card.

walking towards William at the full speed, yet acting calmly, he knocked his shoulder against his making William’s files fall out from his hands. cursing, William got down to pick them up, craning his head down, making the card fall down from his neck to the floor. and Ivan not waisting a second, took the card and hid it in his pocket.

"sorry, didn’t looked where i was walking, sir." William apologized, his hands now shaking and if it wasnt for now, Ivan would’ve felt bad. but unfortunately, he did not, so he helped him with his files and said, almost like he felt sorry, with russian accent. "its okay, it happens to everyone." so he patted his shoulder and walked away.

end of the flashback

Entering the dimly lit room, Ivan moved quickly, the door sliding shut behind him with a quiet hiss. He strode to the desk where the terminal awaited, his fingers already pulling up the login screen. The code? He knew it. Hacking into restricted systems had always been second nature to him—just another skill Hydra had unknowingly sharpened over the years.

He typed it in. The system granted him access. Now, his eyes scanned the directories, searching for one thing: the deleted file. But it wasn’t there. His jaw tightened. William must have wiped it completely.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small drive and plugged it into the terminal. A second passed, then another—then the screen flickered, and the file appeared. The one that wasn’t supposed to exist. Clicking it open, he scanned the data flashing before him. The missions Hydra had executed over the decades. The projects. The experiments. The people they had destroyed. Her. Him. Countless others who had been nothing more than pawns in Hydra’s hands. And worst of all—proof that Hydra had never truly died, that it had been rotting within S.H.I.E.L.D. all this time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

His hands hovered over the keyboard for only a second before he made his decision. With precise keystrokes, he initiated the upload. Every secret Hydra had buried, every atrocity they had committed—it was all about to be exposed.

A final prompt flashed on the screen:

“RELEASE THE DATA?”

Ivan didn’t hesitate. He hit Yes.

The system processed his command, the progress bar crawling forward. Heart pounding, he rose from the chair, yanked the drive free, and tucked it back into his coat. He swiped his keycard, stepping out of the office just as the countdown began.

Thirty minutes.

That’s how long until the attack. Until the data was stolen, hidden away. Or worse—until it was erased again. But this time, he had done something that mattered.

For the first time in years, the weight on his shoulders felt lighter.

30 minutes later -

With calculated precision, she took down the last guard, moving like a shadow through the dimly lit hallway. No wasted movement, no unnecessary noise. By the time his body hit the ground, she was already at the door, pulling out a small device. A few taps. A quiet beep.The lock disengaged.

Natasha slipped inside, closing the door behind her without a sound. The room was cold, sterile—just another forgotten corner of a ship filled with secrets. She moved to the computer, fingers flying as she logged in using the stolen credentials. Files flickered across the screen. She filtered through them, searching, scanning—until she found it. A single, tucked-away file, buried deep.

Gotcha.

She clicked. The screen filled with data, scrolling too fast for the average eye to catch, but she wasn’t an average eye. Her fingers moved again, copying everything onto the drive Fury had given her.

Fury.

Lately, he had been on edge, more than usual. Like he was waiting for something—or someone. And whatever was on this hard drive, it mattered to him more than he was letting on.

A muffled grunt sounded from outside the room. She ignored it. Come on, come on, she thought, watching the transfer bar crawl forward. Then— The doors burst open. A body crashed to the floor—a French pirate, groaning, half-conscious. And stepping over him, shaking his head, was Steve Rogers. "Well, this is awkward," she muttered, a smile on ber face.

Steve glanced from her to the computer, then back. "What are you doing?" She smirked. "Backing up the hard drive. It’s a good habit to get into."

Steve’s jaw tightened. "Rumlow needed your help. What the hell are you doing in here?".Finally, he looked at the screen. Realization hit. "You’re stealing S.H.I.E.L.D.’s intel."

Natasha barely reacted, typing a few more commands. "Whatever I can get my hands on." Steve stepped closer. "Our mission was to save hostages." She pulled out the drive and patted him on the shoulder. "No, that was your mission," she corrected, smiling. "And you did it beautifully."

Before she could move, Steve caught her arm, pulling her back. His voice was low, tense. "You just jeopardized this whole operation." Natasha didn’t flinch. "I think that’s overstating things."

Before he could respond, a click echoed in the room. Both turned—just in time to see the pirate on the floor rising to his feet, a small detonator in his hand. "Shit," Natasha muttered. Steve barely had time to react. He grabbed Natasha, shielding her as he launched them both over the desk.

She fired a shot at the window just as the explosion detonated behind them. The blast ripped through the room, sending them crashing to the floor, the impact knocking the wind out of her.

For a moment, everything was dust and ringing ears. Steve was the first to move, pushing himself up and glancing out the shattered window. The pirate was gone.

Natasha let out a breath, rubbing her head. "Okay. That one’s on me." Steve shot her a glare, completely unimpressed. "You’re damn right."

And just like that, he was gone, already chasing after the pirate. Natasha sighed, rolling her shoulders before getting up. "No gratitude, I swear," she mumbled, following after him.

THE NEXT MORNING -

Nick Fury sat in his dimly lit office, the weight of last night’s events pressing against his thoughts. The hard drive in his hand felt heavier than it should. Something isn’t right. He placed it into the computer and spoke, voice steady. “Secure the office.”

“Office secured.” The AI’s confirmation was immediate. The once-transparent windows darkened, the room sealed off from the outside world. No prying eyes. No unwanted ears.

Fury leaned forward. “Open Lemurian Star's satellite launch file.” Silence.

“Access denied.”

He froze. His gaze flicked to the screen. That’s impossible. “Run decryption.”

The system processed, the progress bar crawling forward—then suddenly stopping.

“Decryption failed.”

Fury’s fingers tightened around the desk. He wasn’t one to be shut out. “Director override. Fury, Nicholas J.” Another pause. Another lockout.

“Override denied. All files sealed.”

A slow exhale. His instincts were screaming now. He switched tactics.

“Open files on the most recent missions.”

“Specify.”

Fury didn’t hesitate. “Shadow and the Winter Soldier.” Nothing.

“Access denied. Files are sealed.”

His jaw clenched. "On whose authority?"

The AI didn’t even pause. “Fury, Nicholas J.”

His own name. That was all he needed to hear. Yanking the drive from the port, Fury turned on his heel and strode toward the elevator. "World Security Council."

"Confirmed."

As the elevator ascended forty floors, Fury’s mind raced. Someone had locked him out of his own system, and he wanted to know who. Why now? And what the hell are they hiding? The doors slid open. He stepped out, heading toward Alexander Pierce’s office.

Pierce’s secretary barely had time to acknowledge him before he was inside, waiting while Pierce wrapped up a conversation with a congressman on the screen. Pierce turned, a smirk already in place. "I work forty floors away, and it takes a hijacking for you to visit?"

Fury shook his hand, matching his tone. "A nuclear war would do it too." Pierce let out a short chuckle, but his eyes remained sharp. Fury glanced toward his office. "You busy in there?" Pierce waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing some earmarks can't fix."

Fury nodded, taking a second before speaking. How the hell do I ask this?

"I need a favor." Pierce exhaled. "Nick, when you say favor, I hear ‘bureaucratic nightmare.’" Fury ignored him. "I need you to call for a vote. Project Insight needs to be delayed." A pause. "And I need access to the mission data from three months ago."

Pierce leaned back slightly. "That’s not a favor, that’s a subcommittee hearing. A long one." His fingers drummed against the desk. "And that data—why not just pull it yourself? You’ve got the code."

Fury’s stare was unwavering. "That’s the problem. My code doesn’t work."

Pierce’s expression didn’t change, but his fingers stopped moving. Just for a second.

"Could be nothing," Fury continued. "Probably is nothing. I just need time to make sure it’s nothing."

Pierce studied him. "And if it’s something?"

Fury didn’t blink. "Then we’ll both be damn glad those helicarriers aren’t in the air."

Another pause.

"Fine," Pierce said, rubbing his temple. "But as for the data—I, uh, forgot my own code for it. You’ll have to wait a day." Fury didn’t buy that for a second. But he nodded. "Appreciate it." Pierce smiled, leaning back in his chair. "No problem. But you still owe me—my niece’s birthday party, remember? You promised Iron Man would show up."

Fury gave him a look. "He’s not exactly the 'kids' party' type." Pierce smirked. "He doesn’t have to mingle. Just stand there and look shiny." Fury let out a low chuckle, turning toward the door. "I’ll see what I can do."

As he walked out, though, the uneasy feeling in his gut didn’t fade. Something was wrong. And he hated not knowing what. Stepping into his car, he locked the doors, started the engine, and drove. His instincts were rarely wrong. And right now?

They were screaming.

BACK AT THE H.Y.D.R.A FACILITY -

running around, the siencetists tried to do everything in time, before he arrives. they got out him out of the cyro and sat him down, strapping his hands down on the arm rest. after checking twice if the knot was tied hard enough, the man stepped in front of him with a red book in his hands.

now bucky, stared him with wide eyes, fear filling them and anxiety bubbling all over him. his hands shook in fear, that maybe there is another mission and his memories would be wiped all over again. 'i dont want this, not again, please.'

he wanted to say the words out, but knkowing them, saying a word without a premission woulve have consequences, so he keept his mouth shut and watched the man silently.

the machine inching closer to buckys face, it cachged him and started electrucing him. opening the book, while buckys scream echoed in the room, the man began saying the trigger words.

"Тоска" the man started to circle around bucky, his footsteps now loud, but not loud enough to susprese Bucky’s screams.

"ржавый" every scream sent the siencetists into a haze, their skin crawling and their minds too quiet.

"печь" bucky's skin felt like it was on fire, the touch of the machine burning his face. not handling the pain, he screamed louder.

"рассвет" remembering the daylight so clearly, the sunrise kissing his cheeks, every time he stayed up late, thinking about his future, but now forbidden to think about it.

"семнадцать" when he was just seventeen, the news he got were like he got hit by a car. the day that his grandmother died. he remembered how he cluched his mothers body next to his as if to ground himself.

"доброкачественный" the first time he got convinced that he was about to do, that it was 'good'. that it would help him to grow into good person.

"девять" always doubting him, using him for cruel ways to kill someone and the last nine years he had been used, those nine times he had been forced to listen and have no choice, but do everything what they said. the days that his freedom was taken away from him.

"возвращение домой" the days before he was capcured. the familarity of having his family close to him. where he felt that he belonged there. the warmth of his moms hugs, the teasing from his 4 younger sisters, every praise from his dad and raising him to be good man in the future, his friend, the one he loved so dearly, but his name - seemed so familiar, yet so distant.

"один" the first time he was ever sent to a mission. meaning he was sent alone. being the only one solider he was, in the beginning, it was always just him. one mission, one task, one target.

"товарный вагон" the day he fell off from that train. his fingers grippkng the handle so thightly, he thought his palms would bleed. Steve inching closer to him, wanting to take Bucky's hand into his and get him up, his hands suddenly fell off from the handle, making his screams for help to echo in to the void.

the man now stopped circling around bucky, closed the book and put it on a table next to him and stepped kn front of now, the winter solider, said in a cold demanor. "доброе утро, солдат."

the winter soldier now looked at the man with nothing but emptiness in his eyes as he nod his head. "готов подчиниться."

"is he ready?" pierce asked the second he stepped in the room, his hands in his pocket, making his presence in the room now cold. the man noded his head. "he is ready, sir."

pierce now satisfied with the answer, stepped closer to the winter solider and said. "we meet again, solider." sighing, he said again. "I have a mission for you, and you have to do it perfectly. no hessitation, just perfection." the solider nod his head yes in understoodment.

and the words that left pierce's mouth, shocked all of the siencetists in the room, even the man who triggered bucky. "kill nick fury. and I want a clear shot with a bullet in his head." and with that, he left the room, only to go in the other one.

Entering in the second room, the presence felt cold, non exsitend and almost normal? hearing the sharp breaths and the way her eyes burned through his skull, it made him uncomfortable and his skin crawled and itched every time he had to lock his gaze onto hers.

noding to the siencetist, as if asking if she was ready, the siencetist, whose name was Ivan, noded his head in aprovement to say yes.

Ivan watched Pierce’s gaze onto hers and all he wanted to do is to rip her off from the chair and save her. "she ready?" asked pierce.

Ivan nod his head and stepped away from her, and watched the way pierce walked slowly towards her and kneeling in front of her, taking her hands in his. "I have a mission for you, shadow." and she looked at him with the same look the winter solider had. emptiness and coldness. the loom that could say everything, but yet, nothing.

"I need you to kill Nick Fury." sighing and agzer a second he said again. "and i need you to repeat your mission before 3 months ago." looking at her, he asked her. "you remember that, dont you?" and shadow nod her head yes.

getting up from the position he was in, he clapped her shoulder and walked out from the room.

now it was the time to do the missions.

not one, but two.

-

In 20 minutes, both assassins were ready.

Weapons strapped to their bodies—knives, pistols, explosives. Anything that could kill, they carried. Their suits, dark and fitted for combat, left no room for mistakes. As they stepped out of their lockers, they locked eyes.

The Winter Soldier gave a curt nod. Shadow, standing there awkwardly, scoffed under her breath. “Asshole.”

He heard it. Of course, he did. Enhanced hearing was a pain in the ass sometimes. Turning slightly, he glanced over his shoulder—she was already gone.

Rolling his eyes, he made his way to the black SUV, yanking open the door and slipping inside. And there she was, sitting across from him, casually inspecting a gun. It was sleek, polished—black with pink edges.

His gaze lingered. Shadow, not even looking up, stretched her arm before speaking. "You're doing the staring thing again." He leaned back in his seat, expression unreadable. "No, I’m not. You’re imagining things." She snorted, loading and checking her weapons. "Uh-huh. And you’re delusional."

The Winter Soldier crossed his arms, his presence somehow even more intimidating, and Shadow—God help her—felt her face grow warm. That suit did not need to fit him that well. The way his muscles flexed beneath the fabric? Unfair.

"You are pretty annoying for a girl," he muttered. Shadow smirked. "You think I’m pretty, Soldier?"

His jaw clenched. A flicker of something crossed his face—confusion, irritation, maybe both. The faintest red crept up his neck. He didn’t answer. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Before she could push further, the vehicle came to a stop. Orders were given. They stepped out, weapons in hand, eyes locking for one last moment before their humanity switched off.

Now, they were empty. Now, they were killers.

-

Max leaned against the wall, chest heaving. His shirt stuck to his back with sweat, and his legs felt like jelly. He waved Sam off weakly. “I hate you so much.”

Sam, hands on his hips, grinned like he had just run a warm-up lap instead of nearly getting them both killed. "Uh-huh. And you have a terrible way of lying, but here we are."

Max shot him a glare, but it lacked bite. He was too tired for attitude. Sam, ever the menace, reached out a hand. Max grabbed it, only to regret it immediately—Sam yanked him up, then clapped him on the back so hard he nearly faceplanted.

“Okay, what the hell was that for?” Max grumbled, straightening himself.

Sam smirked, already walking ahead. “You need to learn how to run. Those two things you call legs? Feels like you’ve got cinder blocks strapped to them.”

Max scoffed, catching up. "I wasn’t built for running, Wilson. I was built for—"

"Whining? Complaining? Moving at the speed of a grandma on a Sunday stroll?"

Max shot him a look. “I was gonna say ‘strength,’ but sure, let’s go with that.”

Sam snorted. “Strength, huh? Hate to break it to you, but if we were in a race for survival, you’d be dead five minutes in.”

Max threw his arms up. “Okay, first of all—screw you. Second, I’d survive.”

"Oh yeah? How?" Sam challenged.

Max grinned. “By tripping you first.”

Sam blinked, then let out a laugh. "Wow. Real honorable, man."

"Hey, survival's not about honor, it's about strategy."

Sam gave him a long look before shaking his head. “You know what? I’m actually impressed by how little shame you have.”

Max clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder, smirking. “I aim to disappoint.”

Sam groaned, rolling his eyes as they kept walking. “Yeah, you’re doing a great job at that.”

Max just grinned, jogging ahead. Sam shook his head, but a small smirk played on his lips as he followed.

-

Five more minutes of running, and Max was done. He yanked Sam toward a nearby shop, ignoring his protests.

“I need a treat,” Max muttered, walking straight to the freezer section.

Sam scoffed but followed. “Yeah, sure. Take your time. Not like we were doing anything important.” When Max emerged, happily unwrapping a chocolate-covered ice cream bar, Sam’s expression turned downright offended. Without hesitation, he smacked Max upside the head.

“Wow. Okay. I see how it is.”

Max gave him an unimpressed side-eye as he took a bite. “You’ve got your own money. Buy your own. I’m not your damn nanny.”

Sam huffed under his breath but didn’t go back inside. “You know, every time I go grocery shopping, I get you something. Because I know your ass will be up my neck whining about how I didn’t.”

Max scoffed. “Well, yeah. You can’t just let me starve, shithead.”

Sam shot him a deadpan look. “Sometimes I wish I could.”

Max rolled his eyes and tossed the ice cream wrapper in a trash can as they walked. “Yeah, yeah. You fucking wish, man. If you really hated me, you’d have thrown me out a long time ago—”

BANG!

The gunshot split the air. Max froze as the bullet whizzed past his head, missing him by inches. Sam lunged, grabbing Max by the shirt and yanking him down behind a parked car just as another shot rang out. The sudden impact knocked the air from Max’s lungs. His ears rang.

“What the hell was that?!” Sam hissed, peeking over the hood, trying to pinpoint the shooter. More gunfire. Bullets pinged off metal, shattered glass, tore through the air.

Max’s hands were shaking. His breathing hitched. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst from his chest. He turned to Sam, eyes blown wide with panic. "Sam, w-what’s happening?"

Another shot clipped the side mirror, shattering it. Sam grabbed Max again, shoving him further behind cover. He felt it then—Max's heartbeat hammering against his own palm. Too fast. Too erratic. Not good.

Max’s chest rose and fell too quickly. His fingers curled into his hoodie, nails digging into his own skin so hard his palm bled. His whole body shook. Panic attack.

Sam didn’t hesitate. He gripped Max’s wrist, prying his clenched fingers open. “Hey, hey—look at me.” Max’s eyes flickered to his. “Breathe, buddy. In. And out.” Sam inhaled, exaggerated, slow. Max mimicked it, struggling to control the rapid gasps.

But the gunfire. The noise. The smoke rising in the distance. It pulled him back—to her.

To the day she tried to kill him.

“I can’t.” Max’s voice cracked. His free hand clawed at his chest, as if trying to tear the panic out of him. "Sam, I can't fucking breathe."

Sam’s grip tightened. “Yes, you can. You’re with me. Right here. No one's gonna hurt you. I got you.” Max squeezed his eyes shut. Focus. Focus on Sam's voice. The world narrowed. The ringing in his ears dulled. Breathe. A deep inhale. A shaky exhale.

Sam gave a small nod. “There you go. You’ve got it.” Then he glanced over the car. Smoke. Whatever was burning, it was getting worse. Max was still rattled, and if he took one breath of whatever that shit was—it’d send him spiraling all over again.

Sam turned back to him, forcing a grin. “Alright, listen. We’re gonna run. As fast as we can. Because if we don’t, we’re gonna die in this damn alley, and I refuse to go out like this.”

He nudged Max, trying to keep the moment light. “If I’m gonna die, it better be on some cool superhero shit.”

Max let out a breathless laugh. He knew what Sam was doing. And he appreciated it. “…Yeah, well, we better start running then.” Sam grinned. “You ready?”

Max exhaled. "Hell no. But let’s go."

Then they ran. Bullets tore past them. They weaved between cars, ducking low, using wreckage as cover.

Suddenly—a blur of movement.

A man lunged from the shadows, tackling Sam to the ground. Max skidded to a stop, heart dropping. Sam barely had time to react before a fist slammed into his ribs. Another hit followed—a brutal hook to the jaw.

Watching the fight happening in front of his eyes, Max was ready to jump in and help sam but then - the grip on Max’s wrist took him by a suprise and it was like a vise, twisting his arm so far back that pain shot through his shoulder.

A second later, his chest slammed into the pavement. The impact rattled his ribs, his breath torn from his lungs in a choked gasp.

Move. Don’t freeze.

He felt the weight of the man shifting above him—his attacker trying to get a stronger hold. Max gritted his teeth and yanked his arm forward, rolling onto his side just enough to jam his elbow into the guy’s knee.

A sharp grunt. The grip loosened. Max didn’t wait. Using the momentum, he twisted free and planted both feet firmly against the pavement. Then he kicked.

His boot crashed into the man’s chest like a sledgehammer. The force sent him staggering back, a deep, guttural cough escaping as he nearly lost his balance.

Max didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

He launched forward, grabbing the man’s collar and slamming his fist into his jaw. Once. Twice. A third time. The guy’s head snapped back, but then— A second attacker. Max barely registered the movement before a fist collided with his ribs. A sickening crunch.

Pain exploded through his side, knocking the breath from his lungs. He stumbled back, clutching his ribs, vision momentarily spinning.

Stay up. Don’t go down.

The second man was bigger, stronger. His smirk was slow, deliberate—like he was enjoying this. "Not bad, kid," he taunted, cracking his knuckles.

Max wiped the blood from his lip and exhaled hard, forcing himself to focus.

Then he moved. He ducked under the man’s next punch, twisting his body and bringing up his knee. A sharp hit to the gut. The man grunted, doubling over slightly. Max didn’t give him time to recover. He brought his elbow down onto the back of his neck, sending him to one knee.

But the first guy wasn’t down yet. Max barely turned in time to see him lunging.

His instincts screamed. At the last second, Max twisted out of the way, grabbed the man’s arm, and used his momentum against him—flipping him forward. The attacker’s back slammed into the pavement.

Sam groaned, pushing himself up from the ground, wiping blood from his busted lip.

"Show-off."

Max scoffed, shoving the unconscious guy aside like he was nothing. He stepped in front of Sam, rolling his shoulders before extending a hand to pull him up. “Yeah, well, this show-off just saved your sorry ass.”

Then Max gave him a once-over, lips curling in mock disgust. “Guess I didn’t have to.”

Sam grinned, shaking his head as he clapped a hand on Max’s shoulder. “You alright, man?”

Max hesitated. His body ached. His heartbeat still hadn’t fully settled from the fight, the adrenaline making his hands tremble slightly. But he exhaled, forcing a nod. “Yeah. I mean—I survived, right?”

Sam studied him for a second, then nodded back. “Good. ’Cause it’s your turn to order pizza tonight, dumbass.” He nudged Max’s arm playfully.

Max rolled his eyes, already opening his mouth to fire back—

BANG!

The world shattered. Pain—sharp, searing, unforgiving—ripped through Max’s side. His breath hitched. He barely even registered the sound of the gunshot before his legs buckled beneath him.

Sam didn’t hesitate. He caught Max before he hit the ground, dragging him behind cover. "Max? Max?!"

Max's eyes fluttered, dazed. A slow, creeping warmth spread across his ribs, and when Sam's hands pressed against his side—red. Dark, pooling, spreading red.

Sam’s stomach dropped. "Shit—shit, stay with me, man. Just keep your eyes open—”

Max sucked in a sharp breath, vision blurring at the edges. The pain wasn’t even the worst part—it was the cold. Crawling up his spine, numbing his fingers, slowing everything down. Across the smoke-filled street, a figure emerged.

Shadow. She lowered her gun, pressing a finger to her earpiece. Her voice, sharp and clipped, cut through the static. “цель устранена. достижение успешное.”

But then—another voice crackled through her earpiece. "цель сбежала. миссия... провалилась." Her breath caught. No. Not again.

She took a slow step back, her heartbeat thudding against her ribs like a warning. Her fingers twitched at her sides as memories threatened to surface—the Soldier. The mission. The failure.

This was just like before.

She turned on her heel, walking stiffly toward the waiting black SUV. The agents inside didn’t ask questions. They knew better. Inside the car, Shadow pressed her forehead against her hands, breathing shallowly. When does this end?

Sam was still pressing down on Max’s wound, hands slick with blood. “Max, c’mon, open your eyes—stay with me, man, stay with me.”

Max exhaled shakily, eyes barely focusing. “S-Sam?” Sam nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m right here, buddy.”

Max swallowed, his throat dry. “Listen. You’re… you’re gonna save my sister, okay? Promise me.”

Sam felt his chest tighten. Max lifted a trembling pinky finger. Even now—dying in his arms—this dumbass was making him pinky promise. Sam let out a choked laugh, blinking hard to keep his vision clear. He linked their fingers together..“Yeah, yeah, you got it, man. But first?” His grip tightened. “You gotta stay awake for me, alright?”

Max’s breathing hitched. His eyelids drooped. “…Max?”

No. No, no, no— Sam’s hands shook. His heart slammed against his ribs.

“Max—HEY—STAY AWAKE, MAN!"

TO BE CONTINUED...

translation-

Тоска - longing

ржавый - rusted

печь - furnance

рассвет - daybreak

семнадцать - seventeen

доброкачественный - benign

девять - nine

возвращение домой - homecoming

один - one

грузовой вагон - freight car