#so what i get from this is that he came home one day and found cxs dying in the studio

[ghostofafool]

It's been 7 years since I founded the Fiddlesti ck Adventuring Party. Alongside them, my four friends and I traveled the world. We helped people with bandits, walked them home at night, delivered groceries. We were hired by kings to slay dragons, common folk to steal food, the nobility as bodyguards.

People came and went. Arthur, our Paladin, was sent on another quest by his God one day. I still see him in the taverns, looking for information for it sometimes. We gained a warlock named Millie, who allied with a Goddess of Harvest soon after. She left to go help her hometown during a famine. Eventually, all the founders had moved on. Except for me. I thought I was still needed as an adventurer, even if I'm an adult now. Fiddlestick was only hired by those who wanted to get away with paying less for high quality. No one gives children full wages, after all!

That's what leads me to a fortnight ago. A nobleman offered to pay us handsomely for jewelry from the Fae Wilds. Despite my doubts, our leader took the job. He'd been thinking about retiring from heroism, living a meager life in a village somewhere. We all got to the Wilds easily enough. And we went in, one of us seeing the eyes in the shadows. The Leader recapped our commission. 2000 gold per person left alive for the Heart of the Seel. The Heart of the Seel is a magical gemstone said to contain the power to control the Good Folk of the Forest and bend it to their will.

And we found it. Locked away inside a small sapling in the middle of a clearing, was a green gem the color of leaves in the height of summer. Everyone celebrated, with a ferocity I had not expected from people who'd traveled for weeks for a gem that was so small it wouldn't be used for anything but a ring. Except for me and our druid Nia. Nia recognized it instantly, coming from a family whose trade was jewelry making. It was a peridot, and a perfectly mortal one at that. They explained to the rest of the group, and were called a liar who wanted all the glory. After that, everyone lost it at once.

Everyone started fighting each other after that. Nathan the barbarian teamed up with the Leader Cole to fight Nia, Wizard Desmond challenged our knight, appointed as Sir Marian of the Queen's Guard, and after that it all turned into a brawl. I just stood there, near the entrance of the clearing, not doing anything. It's what I'm best at, according to Cole and Nathan. It's the only thing a healer is good for. Being on standby unless needed. Desmond died first, they always had low defenses. Then it was Cole, happy to retire for good, as he put it. Then the brawl thinned out a little, as more corpses littered the clearing with its stench and that awful pomegranate red.

Nathan died, clutching a broken ax, swearing that he will avenge himself upon Nia. And then the crowd gathered. The crowd of One, who was named Theresa. She was a rogue who Nia was friends with, and because of that hesitation, Nia was stabbed through the chest. I rushed to their side, trying to heal them as best I could. Nia kept fighting, long enough to drag Theresa into the earth and suffocate her. She died in my arms not long after. I wailed and cried and pleaded, wondering why all this had happened.

When I heard a voice, one I knew but was still a stranger. Then more, enjoined in a choir of voices, high and low, big and small. Eventually it started to sound like the buzzing of cicadas, rushing waters, and thunder at once. "The Heart is Alive! Rejoice, for Our Soul has Reunited with Our Lord!" Over and over again, so loud I couldn't think or see or feel anything else.

The only thing I could do was fall to my knees and scream in agony.

You were the healer—the last light of your party. But now your final ally dies in your arms, and there’s no one left to save. The enemy jeers, calling you useless. You look up, eyes hollow and black. The light is gone. The Void answers. You're no longer a cleric. You're something far worse.

[lilhughesy]

Maple Lattes and Cheese Croissants. | Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

warnings! none!

summary: it’s hard to not fall in love with your friend when he treats you so well and does little things like paying for your coffee.

a/n: sorry super rushed and not my best work!

It came out of the blue, you and Quinn’s friendship. He was new to Vancouver and you’ve grown up on the island but had visited the popular city multiple times before. After high school, you decided to move to the mainland to experience real city living and he was drafted to the Vancouver Canucks.

He had ran straight into you on the sidewalk, causing a movie-like collision with your purse, phone, and keys going flying up in the air and you nearly falling — before his hands caught your waist. You had apologized multiple times, as did he. Before the two of you laughed it off and quickly became friends.

The two do you were miraculously the same age and still getting to know the city — so why not do it with a friend?

And within the past few years, the two of you had grown quite fond of each other. His schedule was packed with practices, training, and meetings while yours was busy with work. Nonetheless, the two of you allocated time for one another; whether it be trying a new restaurant for lunch, a new coffee shop, or a hidden bookstore for you two to pick up a new read. The two of you cherished your time spent with one another as it was like an escape from your realities.

Time together was comfortable and easygoing. You two seemed to understand each other like the back of your hands. He felt like home away from home. He was your shoulder to cry on, a person you could rant to when work got stressful, and he would always come pick you up after your night out with your girls. Quinn never failed to make you smile and he always knew how to bring up your mood — often bringing you takeout on nights you were too exhausted to cook, or buying you your favourite flowers because he knew how much you loved a pop of colour in your kitchen.

Some may think that you two were a couple, which you always had to deny. Although at times you wished that you were something more with the Canucks captain. You found it harder and harder to find a man to be with, as they never treated you as well as Quinn did. At some point you seriously wondered if it was even possible to find a man who would treat you better than Quinn.

“Hey! How was practice?” You greeted the hockey player as he approached you. He pulled you into an embrace the second he reached you,

“Tiring as always,” He chuckled, before the two of you started walking together, “How was your day?”

You shrugged, adjusting your jacket slightly, “I called my mom earlier about plans for Thanksgiving and just went to work… You know, the usual.”

“How’s your mom doing?”

“She’s good, she seems to be doing well!” You beamed as you guided him towards your destination, “So my coworker told me about this cafe, she says that the croissants and the cinnamon sugar donuts are really good.”

He nodded before opening the door for you, “After you.”

You smiled at the boy before entering the cafe. The warm smell of coffee and buttery-sweetness of the baked goods surrounded you like a blanket. There was quiet chatter amongst the other people sitting in the cafe alongside the hum of the coffee machines.

Quinn stuffed his hands into the pocket of his joggers, standing right behind you as the both of you took time to read the menu.

“What are you thinking of getting?” You asked him, turning your head slightly to look at his face.

He hummed, “Probably just a coffee and maybe a ham and cheese croissant, that sounds pretty good.”

“Yeah that does sound good,” You replied before approaching the cashier, “Hi, how are you?”

“Good afternoon! I’m good, thanks! What can I get for you?”

“That’s good to hear! I’ll get the maple latte and a cinnamon sugar donut please.”

She nodded while typing your order into the tablet, “For sure! Anything else?”

“No, that’ll-”

“Yeah a medium coffee and a ham cheese croissant too.” Quinn objected before tapping his card on the machine.

“They’ll be ready for you just over there by the window!”

“Quinn, you know you didn’t have to pay for my food.” You sighed, leaning a shoulder against the wall as the two of you waited for your order.

He chuckled, adjusting his Yankees cap on his head, “Yeah, but I wanted to.”

“Thank you,” You offered him a smile which he returned before nudging you with his shoulder lightly.

When your order was called, Quinn went to retrieve the bag of food and the cardboard drink holder and motioned towards the door. The two of you walked at a comfortable pace in the direction of his apartment, making easy conversations as always. Whether it be his ongoing hockey season or drama at your work, it always flowed with ease.

You two settled into his living room, Quinn at one end of the couch whilst you on the opposite side. You cradled your coffee near your chest as you giggled at whatever joke Quinn had cracked.

He looked peaceful, comfortably lounging into the corner. His navy hoodie hugged him perfectly in a slightly oversized fit which made Quinn seem so cozy. He had one arm relaxed on the back of the couch while his other held his own coffee. His legs were in their typical manspread position as his neck extended back as he laughed.

“Luke said that?” You repeated, eyes still slightly widened while you tucked your knees towards your chest.

He nodded, “Yeah, Mom had to correct him super fast after that one. He’s lucky he didn’t say that in front of any other woman.”

“That’s so funny,” You laughed before taking another sip, “I hope I can meet your family one day, they sound amazing.”

Quinn smiled softly, his eyes glancing between your cuddles up figure and his drink, “Yeah, I hope you can meet them too. ‘Though, you’d probably be the first woman I introduce them too.”

“Oh really?” You questioned, your hands getting slightly clammy, “You’ve never introduced your girlfriends to your family?”

He only shrugged, “Never had a serious relationship before. Just a few flings or hook ups here and there.”

You hesitated before saying your next words, cautious of what may come next, “Have you ever fallen in love before?”

Quinn caught your eye, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob and the air in his throat hitch slightly, “Yeah, every time I look at you.” He breathed out.

Your stomach flipped, “Really?”

“How can I not?” He chuckled as the rosy colour spread across his facial features, “You’re everything I could ever ask for in a woman. You’re smart, strong, kind, beautiful, and yo- you’re breathtaking.”

A smile crawled up onto your face as you watched Quinn rub his jaw with his free hand. You placed your drink on his coffee table before moving closer to sit right next to him. Your legs curled underneath you as your hand played with the sleeve of his hoodie, “I think I fall in love with you more every time I see you too.”

His eyes softened more at your words, as he put down his own drink — not looking away from you. One of Quinn’s hands cupped your shoulder gently, “Yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

His focus bounced between your eyes and your glossy lips, “Can I kiss you then?”

Your hands moved to cup his face as you brought him closer to yours. Your lips melted with his as he eagerly kissed you back. His hands pulling your body to be pressed against his. Quinn’s strong arms wrapped around your waist as your hands danced in his soft hair.

You pulled away slightly, your foreheads touching, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you, Quinn Hughes.”

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” He chuckled before kissing you again, “Now that I’ve kissed you, I don’t know if I ever want to stop.”

You beamed at his words, “Good. I feel the exact same way.”

His hands softly ran up and down your sides, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course, Q.”

Quinn grinned before pressing a kiss to your neck. You giggled as the feeling of his hair tickling your skin and you hugged him close. You didn’t have to worry about finding someone who would treat you better than Quinn, because he was finally yours. Your chest swelled with love and adoration for the man as he adjusted your bodies to be cuddled up in the couch, where the two of you would spend the rest of the afternoon together. The light patter of the Vancouver rain on the window and whatever movie the two of you chose to watch playing on his TV. You were so content to be wrapped up in his arms, even though the maple latte and cheese croissant were forgotten on the table.

[rrysbabydoll]

Busy

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

CW: Explicit sexual content, dominant/submissive dynamics, spanking, power imbalance, emotional vulnerability, mild humiliation, tears, aftercare, consensual BDSM with soft limits.

Synopsis: Y/N gets bratty after Harry ignores her for a week.

You had a bad idea.

Not just any kind of bad idea, but the kind of bad idea that your sweet, sensitive self wouldn’t normally even think about acting on. Except… well, it had been a week.

A full, torturous week of Harry holed up in the studio, headphones half-off and hair a mess, obsessing over the final mixes of his album. He came home late. Ate silently. Fell into bed next to you smelling like vanilla and frustration. Every night, you’d curl into his side like a good girl, hoping he’d roll over, mouth at your shoulder and pull your panties down.

But every night?

Nothing.

So now, here you were, standing at the doorway of his at-home studio in your little sleep shirt, barely-there fabric, hem riding up every time you shifted your weight, sleeves falling past your knuckles, pouting so deeply your lip trembled. But not in the soft, sniffly way he was used to. No. You were being a brat.

"You're obsessed with that stupid album," you muttered, arms crossed.

Harry didn’t even flinch. He turned a knob and scribbled something on a notepad, his back to you.

You scoffed. “You're honestly being such an asshole.”

That did it.

His head turned, slowly. He looked over his shoulder, hair a little messy from running his hands through them over and over again.

“Come again?” His voice was low. Calm. But not amused.

You shifted on your feet, unsure now. This wasn’t your usual tone with him. You were the sweet one. The cry-easily one. The soft girl.

You swallowed. “Nothing.”

He leaned back in his chair and spread his thighs a little wider. His eyes dragged over you. “You’ve got about five seconds to come in here and say what you meant.”

You squirmed. Your plan hadn’t gone much further than this.

Still, your feet moved. You padded in, heart pounding. “I just meant… you haven’t touched me in days, Harry.”

He nodded, once. “I know, sweetheart. I’ve been busy.”

“That’s not fair,” you huffed, suddenly brave. “You always say that when you're working. What about me?”

He raised his eyebrows and didn’t blink. “What about you?”

You stared at him, the flush creeping up your neck. “I’m—I need you. But you don’t care.”

His jaw ticked. Slowly, he stood.

You watched him walk around the desk. He didn’t stop until he was in front of you, and still, his voice never rose.

“Let me get this straight,” he murmured. “You storm into my studio. In your little shirt. Acting like a brat. Talking back. All because I haven’t fucked you in a week?”

You bit your lip, nodding.

He tilted his head. “You think I don’t care about you because I’ve been finishing an album I’ve poured years into?”

That part stung. You didn’t mean it like that. You looked down.

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, baby. You did,” he said, quietly. “You meant it. You wanted to hurt me a little. Thought if you poked me hard enough, I’d snap.”

“I—”

“Be quiet.”

You closed your mouth.

He stepped closer, chest brushing yours. His hand found your jaw, not rough, but firm. His thumb pressed against your lower lip.

“You’re usually such a sweet thing,” he murmured. “What’s gotten into you, hmm?”

Your eyes welled up. Instinctively, you tilted toward him.

“I missed you,” you whispered.

“I know you did,” he said. “But that’s not how you tell me.”

“I’m sorry…”

He hummed. “You will be.”

Your stomach flipped.

He took your hand and walked you to the edge of the couch in the studio, small, low, the one he sat on between takes. He sat first, then pulled you over his lap, face-down, ass up. His hand ran gently down your back, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“I try so hard to be patient with you,” he murmured. “You’re usually so good for me. Sweet little thing. So why do you act like a brat when you know I’m barely holding it together?”

His hand smoothed over your ass once, then landed a sharp, open-palm slap that made your breath catch.

“Count for me.”

“O-One.”

Another. Firmer.

“Two.”

“You looked so pretty standing in that doorway,” he murmured. “So pretty, even when you’re being a little mean.”

Three. Four.

You gasped, hips twitching in his lap.

“Harry—”

“No talking,” he said gently. “Keep going.”

Five. Six. Seven.

Your voice trembled.

“Eight…”

By ten, your legs were shaking. You buried your face in your arm.

When he finally stopped, his hands smoothed over your warm skin. “That’s enough.”

You breathed in sharply, then again, like you were about to cry. But he gently moved you to stand between his legs.

“Take your shirt off.”

You blinked at him.

“I said take it off.”

You pulled the sleep shirt over your head, bare underneath, your nipples pebbled from a mix of cold air and nerves. He looked you over, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.

“Get on the couch.”

You obeyed, knees sinking into the cushion.

“On your tummy.”

You froze.

You hesitated.

“I don’t want to,” you said softly. “I wanna look at you…”

His expression didn’t change. But his jaw clenched slightly. He moved closer.

“No.”

Your lip trembled. “But I just—”

“No,” he repeated. “You don’t get that tonight.”

You blinked fast. “Harry…”

“Get on your tummy.”

When you didn’t move right away, his voice came again, soft but unmistakably stern.

“Now.”

You turned, heart in your throat, and laid on your front. Your cheek pressed into the pillow, and tears began to slip down without permission.

He knelt behind you, strong hands parting your thighs. You whimpered, wanting, needing, his touch.

When he eased into you, slow and deep, you gasped sharply.

“You’ll take it,” he murmured. “You’ll take it and remember not to act out next time.”

You cried softly, face buried, hands curled in the pillow. Your hips twitched toward him, needy, even as your body quivered.

Halfway through, when you felt overwhelmed and aching and emotional, you reached behind blindly, searching for his hand.

He caught your wrist. Held it firmly.

“No touching.”

You sniffled. “I—I’m sorry…”

“I know,” he whispered. “But you still need to learn.”

You nodded into the pillow, crying quietly as he drove deeper, relentless but not cruel. You wanted to see his eyes, to see softness return, but he wouldn’t let you. He stayed behind you, keeping the space between you firm, no matter how much you squirmed.

When you came, it was with a sob in the pillow.

He pulled out slowly, breathing heavy, and tucked himself back into his sweats. The room fell quiet, save for your soft sniffles.

Then…

His hands—warm, wide, familiar—slid under your body. He lifted you gently and turned you over onto your back, then pulled you into his chest like you were made of glass.

His voice, finally, was soft again.

“Oh, baby…”

You curled into him immediately.

“I didn’t mean it,” you whispered, fists in his hoodie. “I missed you. I just—I don’t know what came over me—”

“I know, lovie. I know,” he whispered, kissing your temple over and over. “I shouldn’t have let it get this long. That’s on me.”

You clung to him, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin.

“I just wanted you to look at me,” you mumbled.

He pulled back, tilting your chin.

“I always look at you,” he murmured. “Always. Even when I’m tired. Even when I’m busy. You’re all I see, baby.”

You hiccuped.

“I didn’t like not touching you...”

“I didn’t like saying no,” he whispered. “But I had to. You needed to know you crossed a line.”

You nodded, eyes glassy.

“I was bad.”

“No,” he said firmly. “You’re never bad. Just a little bratty sometimes.”

You smiled through your tears.

He kissed your nose.

“You’re still my sweet girl.”

“Even when I make you mad?”

“I wasn’t mad,” he said. “Just… frustrated. And maybe a little hurt.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.”

He rocked you gently, murmuring against your hair.

“Let me take care of you now,” he whispered. “You were good in the end. So good for me.”

You nodded, already dozing off in his arms.

He reached for a blanket and tucked it over you, laying back into the couch and holding you like you were the only thing he needed in the world.

And really, you were.

[platonicaxaxe]

Deathtrap & Bob ³

Bob Reynolds (sentry) x Ex Assassin Reader

Context: Bullied Boyfriend Bob?

1-2-3The Bob(sentry) Masterlist here

(Can't find any cute Bob gifs🥺)

---

The streets of New York were alive with their usual chaos—honking cars, fast-talking pedestrians, and street performers blaring music on every corner. Bob and Y/N walked side by side, not quite hand-in-hand, but close enough that their shoulders brushed every few steps.

Bob nervously glanced around, occasionally stealing a glance at Y/N when she wasn’t looking. She looked effortlessly cool, even blending in like a regular citizen—nothing like the Red Room legend known as Deathtrap.

He was so distracted, he didn’t see the broad-shouldered, tattoo-covered man in front of him.

BUMP.

Bob staggered a step back. “O-oh—sorry! I didn’t—uh, I didn’t mean to—!”

The man gave a glare, towering over him, but before he could say a word, Y/N had already grabbed Bob’s arm and tugged him away, weaving through the foot traffic like a pro.

“Don’t make eye contact with walking temper tantrums,” she muttered.

“S-sorry,” Bob mumbled, still flustered as they ducked into a small, cozy café.

They took a moment to relax—Y/N sipping something warm while Bob distracted himself with a cookie he didn’t even order.

When they stepped back out, Y/N suddenly stopped in her tracks near an alleyway.

“Oh shoot—I forgot to get that cookie I was supposed to take home,” she said. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Bob nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Y-yeah, sure. I’ll just, uh… stand here. Not get into trouble.”

He smiled awkwardly.

Y/N jogged off.

Seconds later, trouble found him.

Two large men stepped out of the alleyway and blocked his path. One of them was the same tattooed guy from earlier.

“Well look who we got here,” the man sneered. “Little pretty boy.”

Bob stiffened. “I-I’m not lookin’ for trouble, guys—”

One of them shoved him lightly. “Look at this hair. You some kind of washed-up superhero?”

“W-what? No, I—well, I mean—kinda—” Bob stammered, backing up as the two closed in.

“Guy like you doesn’t belong around here. And that chick you were with? Bet she’s just babysitting.”

“Hey!” Bob’s expression changed. Something in him snapped. “Don’t talk about her like that—!”

He tried to swing, but the man caught his fist mid-air and sent him sprawling with one punch.

Bob groaned, trying to blink through the dizziness as his eyes started to glow gold. His pulse quickened. He could feel the Sentry clawing at the edge of his mind.

But then—

CRACK.

A boot to the face sent one of the men stumbling into trash cans.

Y/N had returned.

Silent fury burned in her eyes. She moved like lightning—dodging, striking, flipping one of them onto the pavement with brutal precision. The second guy barely had time to lift his fists before she took him down with a devastating roundhouse.

Bloodied and groaning, one of them hissed, “Who even is he to you?!”

Y/N didn’t hesitate.

“Boyfriend.”

Then she landed the final punch—swift, sharp, and unforgiving.

Bob blinked, wide-eyed and stunned, still sitting on the pavement.

“Y-you… y-you called me—boyfriend,” he stuttered, cheeks blooming red.

Y/N reached down to help him up. “Well, you are, aren’t you?”

Bob nodded way too fast. “Y-yeah! I mean—I’d like to be! I-I am. I… guess I am.”

She smirked, brushing a bit of dirt off his jacket. “Let’s get out of here, Mr. Sentry.”

He looked at her like she’d just saved the world. “T-thanks for not letting me go full nuclear rage mode back there.”

“You’re welcome,” she grinned. “But next time—aim for the kneecaps.”

Bob made a mental note. “R-right. Kneecaps.”

A few days after the alleyway incident, YN texted Bob with a simple message:

“Wanna go for a ride? I’ve got something to show you.”

Of course he said yes—he always did when it came to her.

The sun was beginning to dip into the horizon when they hit the road, the city gradually fading behind them. Trees soon replaced buildings, and the rush of traffic melted into the soothing hum of cicadas and the low growl of YN’s motorcycle. Bob held onto her gently, a soft smile on his face, wind ruffling his hair.

Eventually, they pulled into a gravel driveway, tucked behind a patch of dense woods.

A small cabin stood at the edge of a clearing—quiet, simple, with ivy crawling along the wooden walls and a narrow porch holding an old rocking chair.

Bob’s eyes widened.

“W-whoa… is this… where you live?” he asked, stepping off the bike.

YN nodded, pulling off her helmet. “This is my hideout. No phones. No cameras. No trackers. Just… peace.”

Bob took it all in with a soft breath. “It’s beautiful.”

“I don’t bring people here, Bob,” she said seriously. “You’re the first.”

He looked at her, heart skipping. “R-really?”

She just smiled and opened the door.

Inside, the cabin was small but warm—bookshelves packed with paperbacks, a tiny fireplace, a couch with hand-stitched blankets, and a makeshift kitchen that smelled faintly of herbs and tea.

They spent the evening on the porch, sharing takeout and stargazing, wrapped in a big, old comforter YN had pulled from the couch.

Bob couldn’t stop glancing at her.

“What?” she asked, nudging him playfully with her shoulder.

“I dunno,” he mumbled, cheeks tinted pink. “I just… I feel lucky. Like, crazy lucky.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “You're not just lucky, Bob. You earned this. You listen. You care. And you never asked me to be anything other than what I am.”

Bob let out a breath, his hand gently brushing against hers before intertwining.

He looked up at the stars. “Can I… c-cuddle you? Or is that too weird to ask?”

YN chuckled and leaned fully into him, tugging the blanket tighter around them both.

“You already are, silly.”

He let out a tiny laugh and rested his head on hers, feeling more grounded than he had in years.

In the soft quiet of the night, with crickets singing and the stars blinking above, Bob whispered:

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

And YN, eyes fluttering closed, replied softly:

“Welcome home.”

Thunderbolts Headquarters – 9:37 AM

“Okay, don’t freak out…” Yelena said, walking into the room holding a cup of coffee.

“What?!” Ava said immediately, already half-freaking out.

“Bob didn’t check in last night,” Yelena admitted.

John Walker nearly dropped his protein shake. “He what?! You mean like—missing?”

Alexei gasped dramatically. “The boy has been taken! I knew this would happen. He is too soft. Like marshmallow!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he’s just on a walk. I told him to do that.”

“For twelve hours?” Ava quipped, pulling up Bob’s last pinged location on a map. “He vanished off the grid halfway through Brooklyn. That’s not a walk, Barnes. That’s a ‘he’s tied up in a basement somewhere’ walk.”

Alexei paced. “We need to assemble. Call in satellites. Call in drones. Call in—”

“He’s probably just with Y/N,” Yelena interrupted coolly, sipping her coffee.

The entire room went silent.

“With Deathtrap?!” John screeched. “You mean the lady who disappears like smoke, punches like a tank, and eats ghost protocols for breakfast?! That Deathtrap?!”

“Yes,” Yelena said, completely unbothered.

Bucky stood up. “Well, if he is with her… I mean, that’s good, right? She’s capable.”

“She also doesn’t do visitors,” Ava said. “If Bob’s with her, we’re not finding him. Even S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn’t track that woman.”

“Then what do we do?” John asked.

Alexei pointed to the ceiling. “We wait. And we pray to the gods of love and luck that he comes back… with all his limbs.”

—

Meanwhile… in a cozy cabin miles outside the city…

Bob sneezed.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, poking her head in from the kitchen.

“I-I think someone’s talking about me,” he chuckled.

Back at HQ, Yelena checked her phone. “I’m giving him until tonight. If he doesn’t come back, then we send in a search party.”

“Great. I’ll prep the ‘Missing Bob’ posters,” Ava said dryly.

“They should say ‘Reward: One Cookie and a Hug,’” Bucky added with a smirk.

John nodded. “And a warning label: ‘Do not approach if he's in Sentry Mode. Approach only with snacks.’”

Alexei dramatically put a hand on his heart. “If he returns to us… I shall give him my strongest bear hug. He has survived the deadliest assassin and love. The man is a hero.”

Outside Thunderbolts HQ – 10:46 AM

Alexei was fully geared up, wearing his Red Guardian suit with a fanny pack. He gripped the car keys like a man ready for war. “I will drive through every inch of New York. I will not rest until the boy is safe. If we need to kick down doors, we kick down doors.”

Just as he reached the car—

VROOOM.

A sleek motorcycle pulled up, kicking dust and gravel. Y/N hopped off effortlessly, helmet under one arm, cool as always. Bob clumsily climbed off behind her, legs wobbly from the ride, cheeks tomato red.

"You're good?" she asked him, brushing a hand down his arm.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, totally dazed. “T-thank you… for everything. Especially… the cookie…”

She chuckled, then leaned in, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek—close enough to his lips that Bob nearly melted into a puddle.

Alexei froze mid-step.

PLOP. The car keys fell from his hand.

Without another word, Y/N revved her bike and zoomed off into the streets.

Bob stood there, blinking, goofy smile stretching across his face.

Alexei blinked, then grinned. “Well well well.” and Bob got startled.

Inside HQ – Moments Later

The HQ doors swung open with dramatic flair as Alexei strutted in like he just saved the world. Bob followed, awkwardly hunched, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie, eyes glued to the floor.

“Found him,” Alexei announced triumphantly.

Everyone in the room turned at once.

“Thank God!” Yelena gasped. “Where the hell were you, Bob?! We were about to storm a warehouse!”

John Walker leaned on a chair. “Was he in a safehouse? Dungeon? Dimensional rift?”

“Deathtrap dropped him off,” Alexei said with a smug smirk, “with a smooch, to be exact.”

Bob audibly choked on air.

Ava raised her brow. “A smooch, huh?”

Bucky leaned forward. “Bob, is that true?”

Bob flushed deep red and muttered, “I-I mean… it was just… like a ‘thank you’ thing… I-I didn’t know anyone saw…”

“She kissed him!” Alexei sang. “And he blushed like a schoolboy!”

“Oh my god,” Yelena laughed, grabbing a throw pillow and tossing it at Bob. “You’re so done.”

John cracked up. “And here I thought I had the worst public crush moment. You’ve topped it, buddy.”

Bob just shrank further into his hoodie. “I-it’s not a big deal…”

Bucky clapped a hand on his shoulder. “It is if she’s Deathtrap. You’re either in love… or in danger.”

Alexei beamed. “Or both! The best kind!”

As Bob covered his face in his hands, mumbling unintelligible excuses, the rest of the team burst into another round of chaotic laughter.

Thunderbolts HQ – Afternoon

The team had settled into a surprisingly peaceful moment after the morning's chaos. The place was buzzing with their usual dynamic—Ava messing with tech, Bucky cleaning his arm while muttering about “things he didn’t need,” John Walker pacing back and forth with a cup of coffee, and Alexei lounging casually on one of the chairs, looking way too comfortable.

Bob, still red-faced from his earlier embarrassment, was sitting at the table, fiddling with a coffee cup, desperately trying to act normal. Every time someone looked at him, he’d stiffen and look away. Great, he thought. The worst day of my life.

“So, Bob,” Yelena began, leaning casually against the wall, “have you finally figured out how to get her to join the team?”

Bob flinched. “I-I didn’t—! It’s not like that. I—She’s, uh... she’s just... different.” He looked down at his coffee cup. "She's not... like any of you."

Alexei snickered from across the room. “Not like us? Oh, I beg to differ.” He leaned in theatrically. “Remember that sweet kiss she gave you, Bobby?” He fluttered his eyes and dramatically leaned toward Bob, mimicking a kiss, “Mmm… thank you, Bob... for being such a good listener.”

Bob’s eyes widened, and his face turned a deeper shade of red than before. “N-no! Stop! It wasn’t like that! I was just... she—”

“Oh no, it was definitely like that,” Alexei interrupted, standing up, hands on his hips. “The sweet, innocent kiss... on the cheek... at the hilltop... mmm... so romantic, so tender,” he mimicked, leaning forward and puckering his lips at the air, “Sooooo, Bob, I really enjoyed our time together...” He exaggerated the movements, making kissy faces in the most obnoxious way possible.

The rest of the team, already trying to hold in their laughs, burst into giggles as they watched Bob squirm, his face practically glowing.

“Alexei!” Bob squeaked, mortified. “Please! I swear, it wasn’t like that! I-I didn’t even mean to—"

“Oh, you didn’t mean to?” Alexei raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to Bob and leaning down. “Then what was that thing you did when you held her waist like that? Were you preparing for some kind of fight, or were you really trying not to fall off the bike?” He smirked. “Don’t worry, Bobby. We saw you hugging her like it was the end of the world. She was all... cool and collected, and you... well, you were all... shaky, like a leaf in the wind.”

“Yeah,” John Walker added, grinning, “I saw that too. You looked like you were trying to survive the ride of your life.” He leaned in with mock seriousness. “But she didn’t let you fall. How... sweet.”

Bob threw his hands up in frustration. “Guys, I was just trying to balance! I’m not good with—people! Okay?! She’s just...” He paused, looking at the floor. “She’s different. And I didn’t think... I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at Bob’s discomfort. “Hey, don’t feel too bad. You’re not the first guy to get all flustered around her. I mean, come on. You’re in a team full of chaos. Of course we notice.”

Bob sighed, hiding his face behind his hands. “I didn’t... think this was gonna happen. This isn’t like—this isn’t how it was supposed to go, okay? I thought I’d be able to... I don’t know... keep my cool or something.”

“Keep your cool?” Alexei grinned, leaning in again, clearly enjoying every moment of Bob’s misery. “Bobby, it’s okay. We all know how this ends.”

“We do?” Bob said through his fingers, still mortified.

“Yeah,” Alexei said, his voice turning dramatically serious. “You’re gonna get a surprise visit one day. You’ll knock on her door all shy, you’ll stand there, heart pounding like a jackhammer. And then she’ll open the door, and what will you do?” He stepped closer to Bob, his arms outstretched like he was preparing for the worst love confession of all time. “You’ll stutter, just like you always do. And then you’ll say, ‘H-hi, Y/N... I—uh—I wanted to, you know... tell you... that I—I...’ And she’ll interrupt you with a perfect kiss and a perfect smile and all of a sudden, you’re her guy, Bobby.”

“Wait,” John said, tilting his head. “You’re not telling us Bob’s actually planning on telling her about this, are you?”

Bob shook his head quickly, panicking. “W-what? No! I wasn’t! I mean—maybe... but... no! I’m just trying to figure out how to talk to her, okay?”(he already confessed👀)

Alexei grinned. “That’s what I’m talking about! You’re already on the way, Bobby. You can’t avoid it now.”

“Maybe we should all just plan a nice dinner,” Bucky suggested, crossing his arms. “You know, set up a nice place. Play some music. Just to get things awkward enough for Bob to say something.”

“Not helping, Bucky,” Bob muttered under his breath.

“Come on, Bob. You’ve been acting like a schoolboy in love,” Yelena said, casually sipping her drink from the other side of the room. “You were shaking when she kissed you, remember?”

“Ugh! Stop!” Bob buried his face in his hands, completely overwhelmed by the teasing. “I swear, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen!”

Alexei slapped him on the back, making Bob lurch forward. “You’ll figure it out, my friend. Love’s like punching a wall—you just have to go for it.” He winked at Bob. “But be careful. Deathtrap’s kisses... they’re dangerous.”

Bob groaned, hiding his face in his arms. “This is a nightmare…”

It was early evening at the Thunderbolts HQ, and Bob was in his room, humming softly to himself as he folded the last item into his small blue backpack—his favorite fuzzy blankey. The soft fabric, dotted with faded stars and moons, looked comically juvenile against the sterile metal walls of the compound, but to Bob, it was a source of comfort… especially when he was going to Y/N’s.

He carefully zipped up the bag, triple-checking that he’d packed his toothbrush, a fresh shirt, and—most importantly—a box of instant cocoa packets, because Y/N’s cabin always had that magical quiet that made warm drinks taste better.

Just as he was about to sling the backpack over his shoulder, a loud knock on his door made him jump like he’d heard a gunshot.

“Woah, woah, loverboy,” Alexei's booming voice rang as the door creaked open. He stood there with his arms crossed, one brow cocked and an amused grin playing on his face. “Packing for a date night or your first school camping trip?”

Bob’s face flushed deep red as he fumbled to pull his backpack straps into place. “I-It’s just—uh—I’m just spending the night at Y/N’s,” he stammered, eyes darting anywhere but at Alexei. “I’ve been... having good sleeps there.”

Alexei gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest like Bob had just stabbed him through the heart. “You telling me,” he said with mock devastation, “that you’re not comfortable in the room I lovingly set up for you? With the memory foam mattress and the glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars?”

“N-no! I-I mean—it’s not that—I am comfortable here! It’s just...” Bob trailed off, nervously wringing his hands.

Alexei’s face broke into a chuckle as he clapped a massive hand on Bob’s shoulder, nearly knocking the poor guy forward. “Relax, boy. I’m just messin’ with you. Go enjoy yourself.” His voice softened for just a beat. “If she makes you feel safe—makes you sleep better—then cherish her. And if you love her...” he paused, “don’t be stupid. Let her know.”

Bob blinked, looking up at him with those wide, unsure eyes. He gave a tiny nod.

Just then—PEEP!—a familiar sharp motorcycle horn echoed from outside the compound.

Alexei’s head jerked toward the window and grinned. “Your girlfriend’s here,” he said, smirking like a proud uncle sending his nephew to prom.

“Let’s goooooo,” came Yelena’s voice from the hallway.

As Bob shyly followed Alexei out of his room, his blue backpack bouncing lightly with every nervous step, he was greeted by the entire team gathered just outside the main entrance—like nosy parents watching their kid head off for their first sleepover.

There she was. Y/N, seated on her motorcycle like she owned the entire block, her helmet resting on her lap as she leaned back casually, waiting.

Bob swallowed hard.

“Protect our boy, Y/N!” Alexei called out dramatically, wiping invisible tears from his eyes with the edge of his sleeve. “He’s sensitive. He folds his socks.”

Bob winced.

“Don’t worry, I got him,” Y/N called back with a slight smirk, revving the bike just enough to make Bob jump.

“Use protection!” John Walker shouted with a snort.

Yelena immediately smacked him in the arm. “Oh my god, Walker. He’s taking his blankey, not booking a honeymoon suite!”

Bob turned scarlet.

Y/N, clearly amused, patted the seat behind her. “C’mon, blue backpack. Let’s go before they start planning our wedding.”

Bob offered a stiff, flustered wave to the team, then carefully climbed onto the bike, hugging his bag against his chest for a second before strapping in.

As they pulled away, Alexei stood with a hand raised in mock farewell. “There he goes... our sweet awkward prince… off to cuddle town.”

[neeeooon]

Good morning, Elle. I'm here with another Blue Lock request. May I request: Blue Lock boys finding out that Reader had already left on an overseas scholarship during their two week break from Blue Lock. Characters: Chigiri, Yukimiya, any other characters you want.

idk if you intended angst but !!! here it comes 🙂‍↕️

when you move while they’re at blue lock

bf(f) bllk x gn!reader. angst angst angsttttt

chigiri hyoma

-> he knew you wanted to leave, he just thought you’d wait until he came back

-> with no access to phones, chigiri had no way to check and make sure you were still in town. he chose to trust you when you said you’d greet him at the bus stop, and felt his chest deflate when you weren’t there

-> he thought, maybe you got the time mixed up, but his mother and sister were there. everyone he cared about but you

-> “y/n,” chigiri went quiet after that. he had his phone pressed to the side of his face as he thought about what to say. “i—“ “to send your message, press 1. to rerecord, press—“ chigiri hung up

yukimiya kenyu

-> you talked about the scholarship opportunity before he originally left for blue lock, but you weren’t supposed to hear back for another few months

-> when yukimiya knocked on your door during his two week break, eager to tell you about his experience and hear what you’d been up to, your mom breaks the news that you got the scholarship and had to move away as soon as possible to accept it in full

-> he just stared blankly before thanking her and grabbing his phone. why didn’t he think to call you first? you answer on the fourth ring. “you’re back?”

-> “i’m back… but you’re not here.” he listened to your apology with shiny eyes. “i didn’t want to choose between you and my education. i want both in my future.” “then wait for me, and i’ll wait for you, in return.” “okay… i’ll call you every night there until you have to go back.”

isagi yoichi

-> he smiled at his mom and dad briefly before looking around for the one person he really wanted to see. when you weren’t there, isagi’s brows furrowed. “y/n didn’t come?”

-> at the sad look on his mom’s face, isagi felt his hopes shatter. “sweetheart… y/n got accepted into that wonderful university overseas. they left a week ago.”

-> a week ago? there wasn’t any way for him to know that, for you to communicate that to him, but isagi still felt betrayed. he didn’t say anything the rest of the way home and went straight to his room, where he found a neatly written letter on his bed

-> yooo isagi! you started in the letter, and isagi choked on a laugh. your writing was full of promises of how you’d text and call him whenever he was on break, and you added your new number at the bottom. don’t miss me too much, babe ;) i’m still your biggest fan!!

itoshi rin

-> he didn’t think he’s miss you as much as he did. before he left, rin told you not to wait around for him, because he’d be too focused on his career to pay you any mind when he got back

-> it was true when he said it. it was true now. but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss you. didn’t think of you so often he wondered if he was mentally unwell

-> and when you didn’t answer his calls, he stopped by your house, where your family told him you’d already left. apparently, you left the day after he did

-> rin knew you were smarter than him. he knew you applied for multiple scholarships and international programs. you told him you would have stayed if he’d asked you. he never asked, and now he’d never get the chance

nagi seishiro

-> i’m sorry i couldn’t see you before you got back, your text says. it’s the first thing nagi checked when he got his phone back after blue lock let out

-> you told him before he left that you accepted a full ride to a university away from home, but he didn’t dwell on it much. you told him you’d stick around until he got back. he’d simply shrugged and continued gaming at the time

-> now, his chest hurt. his apartment felt cold and empty, even with choki back in his care for a few weeks. you liked to call yourself his best friend, but nagi never confirmed or entertained you while you were together

-> but standing in his place, alone, he felt the lack of your presence, and he didn’t like it one bit

mikage reo

-> reo was so excited to tell you about his newfound chameleon skill! there was no way for him to communicate with you while in blue lock, which only heightened his excitement for the two week break they were getting

-> it all came crashing down when he had his driver take him straight to your house, ignoring their anxious offers to take him to see his parents first. your parents gave him such sad smiles as they explained that you moved away to pursue your education

-> he immediately asked baya to help him book a flight to your new school. reo didn’t wait to greet his parents before heading straight to the airport to fly to you

-> it takes several hours, but when you opened the door, your jaw dropped at the sight of your friend from back home. “reo? what—“ he crushed you in a hug before you could finish, holding you tight as if you might slip away again. “you didn’t even let me say goodbye.”

[tokoyan]

Hi, I would like to make a request with Gotak. I was thinking of one where Gotak buys his girlfriend a gift, could be a necklace or a book she's been eyeing for a while. I think of the girlfriend as someone who has a similar personality like Juntae

- Anything for you

pairing: go hyutak x reader

Warning: none

Word count: 1,193

a/n: omg yes i love this request!! he acts so nonchalant but its so cute seeing him get all shy and stuff. anyways i really enjoyed writing this 💘

gif credits: @slytherinshua

School had ended, and both you and Gotak were walking back home—well, more like he was walking you home before heading to his own place. As usual, he did most of the talking, excitedly rambling about his hobbies while you listened with a soft smile.

“And that’s when I suddenly went behind him and threw the ball—and it just went in!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms up to mimic the moment. His animated storytelling made you laugh.

“That’s really cool,” you said quietly, still listening to him talk as you both strolled past familiar shops.

But today, something new caught your eye—a shop that hadn't been there before. It had a soft, doll-like vibe with pastel colors and cute accessories on display. You came to a sudden stop without realizing it. Gotak kept walking, still caught up in his story, until he noticed you were no longer beside him. He turned and looked back.

“Why are you just standing there?” he asked, confused, before following your gaze to the store.

You hadn’t even noticed him staring at you. Your eyes were still fixed on the display window full of glittering trinkets and charm-like accessories.

Gotak walked back and stood in front of you, hands in his pockets. “Are you just gonna stare, or…?” he said, snapping you out of your daze.

“Oh—uhm, no, sorry,” you mumbled, quickly starting to walk again.

“You sure you don’t want to go in there? I don’t mind,” he called after you.

“No, it’s fine,” you replied without stopping, so he jogged to catch up. But as he glanced back at the store one last time, an idea started forming in his mind—he didn’t say anything, though, and you both continued walking.

---

The next day, you had after-school practice, so Gotak was walking home with Baku instead. The two were goofing around as usual when they passed the same shop. Gotak abruptly stopped in front of it.

Baku raised an eyebrow. “Damn, didn’t know you were into pastel hearts and sparkly bows,” he teased.

“Shut up,” Gotak muttered, shooting him a glare as he walked into the store. Baku laughed and followed behind.

Inside, they were met with fairy lights, soft music, and an explosion of cute decor. Baku looked around with wide eyes. “Okay, but seriously, what are we doing here?”

Gotak scanned the shelves. “What do you think Y/N would like?”

“Why are you asking me? Isn’t she your girlfriend?” Baku laughed as he picked up a fluffy keychain.

Eventually, Gotak found the bracelet display from the day before. Not quite sure which you'd like, he picked two—one pink, one purple.

“You think she’ll like these?” he asked.

“If I was a girl, I’d dump you on the spot for that,” Baku joked. Gotak slapped his arm.

“Says the guy with no girlfriend,” he muttered and walked to the cashier.

“Hey, that one actually hurt!” Baku said with a fake pout, trailing behind.

---

Two days later, you sat alone in your seat during lunch, staring out the window at a group of students playing football. You didn’t notice Gotak and Baku approaching until they were already pulling up chairs.

“Heyyy, Y/N,” Baku grinned, flopping into the seat next to you. Gotak sat across from you, letting out a nervous sigh.

“Okay, so… Y/N—”

“C’mon, Gotak, you can’t get shy now. Just say it!” Baku interrupted.

“Fine, fine…” Gotak opened his bag, unzipped it, and pulled out a small paper bag with a cute label. You blinked in surprise. “I saw you looking at the accessories in that new shop the other day… so I thought…”

He slid the bag across the table and looked away, clearly flustered. “It cost me a shit ton… but anything for you.”

“Oh my—Gotak, you really didn’t have to—”

“No, he really wanted to,” Baku said, looking at you seriously.

You smiled wide as you opened the bag and found a soft velvet box inside. Your eyes widened slightly.

“Don’t be shy, open it! It’s not like he’s proposing or anything,” Baku teased.

“Baku, I swear—shut up,” Gotak muttered, shooting him a glare.

You opened the box slowly and found two delicate bracelets inside—one pink, one purple.

They were beautiful.

“Gotak… thank you,” you said, smiling at him genuinely.

“Y-you’re welcome,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But…” you said softly, picking up the purple bracelet. You reached for his hand and gently put it on him. “I think it’d be cute if we matched.”

Then you leaned forward, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting back down.

Gotak froze, staring at you in shock. His face turned bright red—he looked like a tomato.

Baku burst into laughter. “Oh man, he’s blushing!”

Even if Gotak finds it hard to express himself sometimes, it’s clear he really cares about you.

And sure, you get shy too—but he loves that about you.

At the end of the day, he thinks you’re perfect.

And to him, that’s all that matters.

[ilyprs]

P I S T A N T H R O P H O B I A | s.geum

───𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛───

pistanthrophobia : the fear of trusting people, forming close romantic relationships, and being vulnerable in interpersonal connections

' in which she can't escape her first love

•seong-je x reader

•part 2. ( u can find the first part on my profile i just couldn’t figure out how to link it !!😭)

ׂׂૢ་༘______________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။•✩♬ now playing: i'm unhappy | aespa

Serim lay awake in her bed for a long time, replaying the entire day in her mind. She couldn't understand how a day that had started off so beautifully could end in such a disaster. The boys hadn't let the topic go, and she literally had to drag them away by their ears to stop them from going back and beating up the other guys. They only winced in pain and swore to her, that if there was something she was hiding from them, they would find out. She had only briefly explained what had happened and had left out important details—like seeing Geum Seong-je again—because if she'd mentioned that, they definitely would have gone back, and it would've ended in bloodshed. Afterward, the boys had walked her all the way to her front door and waited until she was safely inside before making their own way home. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, her friends could tell that something was wrong, and they wouldn't let it go easily.

The thought of Seong-je made her heart ache again. Every day, she had done her best to suppress her feelings for him—and it had worked relatively well, until she saw him again today. The last time she had seen him was quite a while ago, since she had spent months avoiding the places he might be. All the feelings she had fought so hard to bury suddenly came flooding back, and she couldn't believe it. It was all just too much for her to handle at the moment. Determined, she got up and rummaged through her nightstand until she found what she was looking for. Quietly, she grabbed a pack of cigarettes and her favourite lighter that Seong-je had gifted her and stepped out onto the balcony. The chilly air welcomed her and she brought her jacked closer to her body. She never smoked when they used to be together but he had always insisted on her having something that resembled him and gave her a dark red lighter with his initials on. She could never bring herself to throw it away. It was one of the few things she had left of him before he became the way he was now.

Serim rarely smoked—and only when she was completely overwhelmed. It was a habit she'd picked up after leaving him. The smell was oddly familiar and brought her back to those times when she sat on this very balcony, facing him, just watching him. He looked so beautiful in the sunset—his glasses always slipping slightly down his nose, smoking in the chair directly across from hers. The smoke which was lingering on him and the way he breathed it out only had made him hotter than he already was. Sometimes he caught her staring and asked why she was looking at him like that. She always said it was nothing, but they both knew it was much more than that. He then would always get close to her and give her that fucking smirk he always had sitting on his stupidly handsome face, before he leaned in and kissed her. Other times he would just admire her and tell her how beautiful she looked in the sunlight. There were even many instances in which they whispered quiet confessions at each other under the moonlight.

„The moon is beautiful isn't it?"

As the memories rushed back, her heart clenched again, and she lit her cigarette. It was windy, and she had to shield the flame with her hand to get it lit. With a heavy heart, she took a deep drag that didn't even taste good and tried to push the old memories from her mind. But it only brought more pain and sorrow. No matter how much she wished it, nothing would ever be the same again.

She spent exactly 34 minutes on the balcony. When she stepped back into her room, the warm air wrapped around her, making her feel a little better. Quietly, she tucked the pack and lighter back into her nightstand and checked her messages one last time. She didn't want to, but her fingers moved automatically to the archived chats and opened his contact. Two hours ago, he had sent her a picture with a message. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should just ignore it—but her curiosity was too strong. She opened the photo, and her phone almost slipped from her hands.

It showed a bloody hand bent at a strange angle. The fingers were twisted unnaturally, and the hand was covered in scratches, blood, and bruises. Serim didn't need to think twice—she knew exactly who it was. Her breath hitched and she was close to throwing up. It was the guy who had tried to hit her. She had heard his painful screams when she was running away. Serim couldn't believe what she was seeing with her own eyes but she should have known better. She knew that the boy never could have just walked away as if nothing had happened.

As she exited the photo, she saw another message:

"That's what happens to anyone who even thinks about hurting you."

Serim's heart skipped a beat. Seong-je's jealousy wasn't anything new to her, but she had a feeling it had only gotten worse since they went their separate ways. For the past two years, no guy had dared to talk to her—Seong-je had threatened everyone around her with death if they even got close. It was one of the reasons she had to change schools. Seong-je started getting into physical altercations almost daily—just looking at her was enough to piss him off, which led to a lot of problems and fights.

Her fingers trembled as she typed a short message to him. She had sworn never to contact him again, but if innocent people were getting hurt, she couldn't just sit quietly and do nothing. Sometimes, she cursed herself for her compassion and empathy.

"Leave me alone."

Without thinking twice, she hit send. She was about to throw her phone against the wall to escape this madness when it buzzed again, pulling her out of her thoughts. With shaking hands, she looked at the screen. He had replied immediately, as if he'd been waiting the whole time.

"Never."

Serim really was about to throw her phone, but she knew it wouldn't change anything. Instead, she just let it fall onto her pillow and layed down. He would never give up, and she would never have peace. Every time she blocked him, he messaged her from a new number. Even when she changed her number, he would find her new one within days. Lee Serim was never truly free from this boy, no matter where or how far she went. It was impossible to escape him. She knew someone was always watching her—she had caught people following her before, but when she confronted them, the next day it would be someone new and the cycle would just repeat itself. To call him obsessed would be the understatement of the year. He seemed to live and breath only for her. And she was slowly reaching her breaking point. She didn't respond anymore, set her phone aside, and tried to sleep. But her thoughts kept returning to him. Before she drifted off, she blocked his new number too.

⸻

The next morning, she had to force herself out of bed. The night had been long and sleepless, and she was beyond exhausted—but skipping school wasn't an option. She quickly got ready and grabbed a small breakfast. She gave her dad a quick kiss and promised to come to training later, then stepped outside. Just as she opened the door, Gotak was standing there, about to knock. Startled, he flinched, and Serim had to smile. It had become a routine for the two of them to walk to school together every day. Usually, Baku was with them too, but that idiot was currently serving his suspension.

„Morning. You look like shit," Gotak commented, eyeing her with concern. „Did you sleep at all?" he asked as he instinctively took her backpack so she could throw her jacket over her school uniform. Serim bit down on her now-reddened lips—the same way she had all night—and looked at him.

„Thanks, just what I wanted to hear first thing in the morning," she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes before giving him a small hit on the back of his head. She was very grateful for her friends and their honesty but sometimes it was just to much to bare. The worst part was, he wasn't even lying—she really did look awful. Dark circles had formed under her eyes, and she looked like a walking corpse in the mirror that morning. She didn't even have the energy to cover them up, so she accepted her zombie appearance for the day.

Gotak kept watching her with worry as they made their way to school. She had taken her backpack back when he, once again, asked if everything was alright. She knew that no matter what she said, he wouldn't be convinced—but she simply didn't have the energy to explain again and waved him off. Gotak just eyed her suspiciously but left it at that after a while. Serim was in no mood to talk.

⸻

When they arrived at school, she sat at her desk and wanted to start studying right away, when suddenly a small boy with cute glasses rushed into the classroom and frantically started digging through his oversized bag. He moved quickly between the desks, placing some sort of snack on almost every one. Sometimes he picked the wrong one, muttered a quiet curse, and switched it out for the right one. Confused, Serim watched the boy as he suddenly approached her and silently placed a strawberry milk on her desk. Perplexed, she spoke:

„Excuse me, I think you've got the wrong desk."

The boy's eyes widened in panic, and he apologized repeatedly before rushing out again. She stared after him, bewildered. Serim had seen the boy multiple times by now but everytime he seemed to be in a hurry and just rushed off so she never got to talk to him properly.

What was that about?

Lee Serim just shrugged in confusion and tried to drown out the noise of her classmates by putting in her AirPods and focusing on the math book in front of her. Serim was an excellent student who always had top grades. Solving problems came naturally to her. She didn't need to study much, which made her friends jealous—but they made good use of her intelligence and forced her to study with them before exams which sometimes ended with a screaming match that everyone was involved in.

The class dragged on endlessly, and Serim felt like she could fall asleep any second, thanks to the previous night. All she wanted was to crawl back into her room and never come out again. None of her friends were in her class, which made it even harder to stay awake—but she pushed through. She remembered her promise to her Dad to visit the gym after she was done with school and sighed again. All she wanted to do was go home and just sleep for the rest of her damned life.

Just before the class ended, her phone buzzed and suddenly she got a bad feeling. An unknown number lit up on her screen. Her heart immediately sank—she didn't even need to check to know who it was from. Her palms started sweating, and she struggled to breathe. Cursing quietly under her breath, she opened the message.

"8 PM. At our favorite place."

„our“. That was funny. There was nothing left of them or atleast what used to be them.

Just as she read it, another message popped up.

"If you don't come, I'll find you."

Serim could swear her heart stopped. Her mind raced and she found herself imagining multiple ways this could go, and none of them ended good. She was in serious trouble.

„You dumb motherfucker i swear to god!" she whispered quietly as she dropped her head into her hands and closed her eyes while trying her best to not breakdown in the middle of math class.

She was so fucking tired.

—

taglist: @gacktsa @dripoftheseus @rockerica @b3autyist3rror 🩷

[loveesiren]

𝖫𝗂𝖼𝖾𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗒

Kwon Jiyong x fem!reader

a/n: Hiiii, was yapping with friends about funky lil sicknesses we had as children and I remembered the time I got lice when I was like 7 so I wrote this lol. Wanted to give you guys something while I move and work on CMH! Just silly, enjoy <3

warnings: fluff, lice??

wc: 2.1k+

Being a teacher was the most rewarding part of your life. You spent your days wrapped in patterned skirts and cardigan sweaters, hiding math problems beneath glittery worksheets and storytime. You smelled like markers and juice boxes, and your fingernails were always tinted faintly with dry-erase ink. But you loved it—nurturing young minds, celebrating their little victories, feeding them knowledge that would help shape the future.

And when you came home, you didn’t have to be the adult anymore. Not with Jiyong. In his arms, you got to be the kid. He’d pull you into his lap while a movie played, brush your hair out of your face, feed you bites of his cooking with chopsticks, and whisper silly things in your ear like “I love you more than ramen and music.” He made the world soft.

But tonight, your soft routine flew out the window.

“JIYONG, AHHHHHHHH!”

The sound of your scream echoed through the house like a murder had just occurred.

Jiyong dropped his freshly scooped bowl of ice cream straight into the sink, the spoon clanging loudly as he sprinted down the hallway—barefoot, breathless, wearing nothing but black boxers.

He skidded past the bathroom before stumbling back with wild eyes. “Baby?! Are you okay?! What happened?!”

You stood in front of the mirror, hair a tangled mess, eyes watery with panic. Your lips quivered.

“There are bugs in my hair…” you whispered in horror, your voice cracking as you reached up to point at your scalp. “Bugs, Ji!”

Jiyong blinked, stepping closer as he gently tilted your head to the side, brushing your hair apart with careful fingers.

He squinted, then chuckled softly. “Ah… Jagiya, you’ve got lice.”

“WHAT?!” you shrieked, flailing like the word itself physically stung. “NO. NO, NO, NO—EW! GET THEM OUT! GET THEM OUT!”

Jiyong winced and the cats darted through the hallway in terror. He leaned in toward the mirror to check his own hair, muttering under his breath, “Shit… I probably have them too…”

Sure enough, he found a tiny bug crawling leisurely through his orange strands. He plucked it with a grimace and crushed it between his fingers, holding it up for you to see like a trophy.

“Confirmed,” he said with a grin. “We’re infested.”

“Jiyong!” you wailed, stomping your foot. “Why are you SMILING?! This is a crisis!!”

He laughed and tried to pull you into his side, but you smacked his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. “Get. Them. Out. Of. My. Hair!”

“I mean… we could just shave it all off.” His tone was too casual.

You froze. Then burst into tears.

“BABY! I’m kidding!” he gasped, eyes wide as he pulled you into a hug. “Oh my god, don’t cry—I swear I’m joking!”

You sobbed into his chest, smacking him again through your tears. “You’re an asshole, Jiyong…”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you tight even as you sniffled dramatically. “I know, babe. I know. But I promise—I’ll get rid of them. Every last one. We’ll nuke this whole place if we have to.”

You sniffed again. “Even the pillows?”

“Especially the pillows.” He kissed your temple. “Nobody fucks with my girl’s hair and lives.”

-

Jiyong had stuffed all of his hair into an oversized beanie and made the walk of shame to the corner bodega. He paced the aisles, grabbing tea tree oil, medicated shampoo, a steel-toothed lice comb that looked like a medieval torture device, and—because he knew you—your favorite snacks: a king-sized pack of sour candies, ramen, and a bottle of strawberry milk.

When he got home, the sound of your disgusted groans echoed from the bathroom.

He peeked in to find you hunched over the sink, using tweezers like surgical tools, picking through your hair and making dramatic gagging sounds with each bug discovery.

“Oh my god, they’re multiplying,” you whispered, horrified.

Jiyong tried not to laugh. “Jagiya, get in the bath,” he said gently, walking barefoot across the tile and kneeling beside the tub. He twisted the knobs and let the water run warm before pouring in a mountain of lavender bubble bath like it could somehow cleanse the trauma. It smelled like serenity.

“Ji, this is so disgusting,” you groaned, still inspecting your scalp like you were reading a bad Yelp review. “How the hell did this happen?”

“You spend every day surrounded by tiny humans who wipe their noses on their sleeves and forget what personal space is,” he said, matter-of-factly. “This was an ambush waiting to happen.”

You were too busy huffing at your reflection to notice him pulling your pajama top over your head.

“I’m infested,” you muttered.

“And still hot,” Jiyong said, grinning as he lifted you off the ground. You yelped and clung to his neck, but he just carried you over to the tub like you weighed nothing, gently placing you into the warm, bubbling water.

“I’m gonna throw the sheets in the wash and burn everything we own,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Be right back. Don’t go falling in love with another lice-removal specialist while I’m gone.”

You sank into the bath with a deep sigh, the lavender lulling your nerves and making the whole bug-invasion feel a little less apocalyptic. You grabbed your phone and, sure enough, saw an email from school.

Subject: Lice Protocol.

School was closed for the next few days for ‘decontamination.’ You almost cried with relief.

“Babe!” you called.

“What’s up?” Jiyong reappeared in the doorway, now shirtless and smug with his laundry triumph.

“School’s shutting down for a few days. Full-on lice outbreak.”

His eyebrows raised. “So you're telling me… I get you all to myself?”

He stripped off his pants and boxers and stepped into the bath, the bubbles reaching his hips as he sat behind you and pulled you against his chest like a human pillow.

“That means no grading, no early alarms…” he whispered. “Just you, me, and our parasite roommates.”

“Ew, don’t say that!” you grimaced, leaning away. “Don’t kiss me. There are bugs in my hair.”

“There are bugs in my hair too,” he replied, tugging you back into him like you hadn’t just declared a biohazard.

You whined. “Get them out. Please.”

“I got you, baby.” He lathered a palmful of the tea tree shampoo and began working it into your scalp with slow, deliberate fingers. You practically melted under his touch.

“This part’s kind of nice,” you admitted, eyes fluttering shut as his thumbs traced behind your ears.

Jiyong took his sweet time, scrubbing with love and then styling your soapy hair into ridiculous peaks and shapes—one moment a unicorn horn, the next a slicked-back mob boss look. “I call this one ‘Bugsy Malone.’”

You snorted. “You’re such a freak. Okay, my turn.” You scooted around in the tub, grabbed the shampoo, and lathered it into his hair, scratching gently at his scalp while he hummed happily.

Once both of your heads were foaming like cappuccinos, you sat back and giggled, flicking water at each other until the walls were wet and the bubbles overflowed.

“Thanks for always being the best,” you said softly, giving him a shy smile. “Are you sure you’re not mad that I gave you lice?”

Jiyong grinned. “Baby, you work with kids. I knew this day would come.”

You rolled your eyes. “Still…”

He kissed your nose. “You’re the best teacher I know. And someday you’re gonna be an amazing mom. And then we’ll probably get lice again.”

“Gross!” You splashed him and he laughed, water flying everywhere.

When the shampoo had done its job, you turned on the shower and let the warm stream wash away the tea tree suds and the tiny demons in your hair.

-

Jiyong sat cross-legged on the bathroom floor, the tiny metal lice comb in one hand and a determined expression on his face like he was defusing a bomb. You sat in front of him wrapped in a towel, head bowed slightly as he methodically dragged the fine teeth of the comb through your damp strands.

“Hold still, baby,” he murmured, gently parting your hair with his fingers, his brows furrowed with surgeon-level focus. “We’re almost done.”

Each time he wiped the comb on a tissue, your stomach twisted a little—another tiny, defeated bug removed, a new wave of ick crawling down your spine.

“You’re way too calm about this,” you muttered, shivering slightly.

“That’s because if I scream, we both scream, and I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that never ends well,” he replied, grinning. “Besides, I’m saving your beautiful scalp. I’m basically a hero.”

Once he was finally satisfied that your head was pest-free, it was your turn. You took the comb from his hand and gestured for him to sit between your legs.

“Alright, oppa. Time to return the favor.”

He groaned dramatically, flopping down like he was a soldier going into battle. “Be gentle. My scalp is sensitive. Like my soul.”

“Drama queen,” you teased, running the comb gently through his thick hair, being extra careful not to tug too hard. His hair was soft and dense, and you marveled for a second at how much time he clearly spent taking care of it. You were going to make sure no bug ever dared lay eggs here again.

Once the two of you had finished the comb-through and double-checked each other's heads under the harsh bathroom light, you applied what had to be half the bottle of tea tree oil to your hair—“for good measure,” you said as Jiyong watched with both concern and admiration.

“You’re gonna smell like a Christmas candle for a week,” he joked.

“Better than smelling like lice and trauma,” you shot back.

You rummaged through his bathroom drawers like a woman possessed until you triumphantly held up two packs of wrinkled plastic shower caps he’d swiped from a hotel. “Victory!”

Jiyong raised an eyebrow. “You’re not actually—”

“You bet your ass I am. This is war.”

You forced the cap onto your oil-slicked hair and handed him another. “Put it on.”

He looked at it like it might bite him. “It’s giving ‘old lady at the spa.’”

“It’s giving ‘lice prevention protocol.’ Cap up, lover boy.”

Grumbling under his breath, he shoved his hair under the plastic dome. It puffed up around his head like a deflated balloon. “Happy now?”

You grinned. “So happy.”

The two of you climbed into bed with your heads crinkling like chip bags every time you moved. The cats, Iye and Zoa, sat at the foot of the bed, staring at you both like you’d completely lost it. Their eyes followed the rustling sounds like they were watching prey.

“Jagi… how long must we wear these?” Jiyong whispered. “Zoa’s giving me serial killer eyes. I think she’s about to pounce.”

“We have to sleep like this,” you whispered back. “We have to make sure every last bug is dead. This is serious.”

The night was anything but peaceful. Every toss and turn brought a chorus of crinkles. The cats took turns swatting at your heads. You woke up at 3:17 a.m. to Jiyong muttering “I swear to god, this cat’s trying to murder me.”

By 5 a.m., you’d both had enough.

Groggy, delirious, and running on zero good sleep, you dragged yourselves back into the bathroom. You stood under the warm spray of the shower, heads bowed like you were performing some kind of sleep-deprived exorcism. You washed each other wordlessly, hands moving lazily as steam filled the room.

Jiyong rubbed shampoo into your hair one last time, checking every section as if he was going for a medical license in Liceology. You did the same for him, and when you found nothing, you both exhaled like you'd finished a marathon.

You toweled off and sat on the edge of the bed, drying your hair while Jiyong ran a hand through his now lice-free mane, sighing in deep satisfaction.

“You know…” he said, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, “school’s closed. I don’t have to work either. We’ve got the whole day to ourselves.”

You smirked, squeezing the towel tighter around your hair as you stepped closer. “Oh yeah? What are you thinking?”

His lips curled into a familiar cocky grin. He reached for you, his hands finding their way to your bare hips before sliding lower. “I was thinking…”

You leaned in, hopeful. He leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing.

“…we rot on the couch and order five kinds of takeout.”

You burst into laughter. “Jiyong!”

“What?” he laughed, pulling you into a warm embrace. “We earned it. We fought lice. We deserve snacks and K-dramas.”

You reached up and kissed him deeply, lingering as your fingers tangled in his clean, soft hair.

“Sounds perfect,” you whispered against his lips.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, click here.

Tags: @infinetlyforgotten @ldydeath @c1delight @divinefeminineeeee @nicklet94 @fleabagspurplewife @rafesbunniebby @dear-satan @princessadedulce @aerangi @Bcfcpsh @fairyprincesslvr21 @rositapinchesfresita @steponupbabe @w31rd3rg1rl @gdinthehouseee @petersasteria @emmiesoverthemoon @pinkpunkdynamite @modzmadness @breakmeoff @Sofws @burlesquerade @eru-vande @Amyyforshort @korevictrix @gdgirl21 @aizshallnotbefound @ttturnitup @Keiraryan @mashtatosworld @Kai-277 @Loonybubny1 @sherrayyyyy @sharnnnnnn @juliskopf @97claudia97 @shad0wcast @lilysdoll @scream-queen-25 @rubyylovestoread @wickedbutlovely @sherxoo @cannotdriveinastraightline @crashmunson @whotfiscamellia @heartubeatusalon @slut4namgyu @ricecake9999 @makeitworse @Liv2cool @butnobodycares @g-devine

[angelbby555]

Home life

Summary: Jake acts two different ways. An asshole at work, and a caring husband at home. Word count: 800

⋆. ୨୧˚⋆

It was safe for the daggers to assume Jake liked to act out and mess with others because he got no attention at home. In grade school, everyone constantly mentioned a bully who picked on others because their home life was terrible.

Jake Seresin's home life was far from terrible and better than most. When he came home after a long day at work, his son Aaron was jumping into his arms to greet him, and food was served at the table. Then he always found his pregnant radiant wife in the kitchen finishing a word search puzzle in Aaron's coloring book.

"Hi pretty." Jake grinned ear to ear, knowing this was his favorite part of the day.

"Hi, jakey." You threw your arms around his neck when he was close to you. You pressed a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. Jake bends down to kiss your growing belly, letting his index finger lightly brush over your stomach wanting to get the baby's attention.

"Don't give your mom too much trouble now." Jake stood up properly still glancing down at your bump. "Let her finish her boring word search puzzle made for kids in peace."

You faux a pout, that was more of a smile. "You're not getting dinner anymore." You grabbed the coloring book off the counter and swatted his bicep with the paw patrol book.

"I'm joking. I'm joking." Jake laughed. He kissed your temple for good measure and pulled you back to his embrace, with your baby bump sandwiches between you both. "I missed you. How was your day?"

After that the 3 of you had dinner and Jake made sure Aaron didn't start his meal until you sat down at the table. Usually, there was a game of Connect 4 after dinner, but since Aaron suddenly got an obsession with Hot Wheels, they built orange race tracks on the floor.

Aaron's objective was always to make the longest track, and Jake was willing to build track after track till it was perfect. It would take almost all afternoon to make a track long enough to take up the living room to the dining room. You just sat next to them doing the word search and occasionally stealing blue boosters, to make both boys go on a search hunt to find them.

The next day you would tell them to clean it up, but since it had taken very hard work and time they refused to back the track away. So it just sat there for the rest of the week till Araon wanted to build a new one.

His home life wasn't anything crazy compared to his job in the sky, but it was his and Jake treasured it dearly.

Nobody knew about Jake's family, except for Javy and Bradley. Since Jake shared a good bond with Coyote he told him straight from the start about his incredible family. But Bradley found out on his own when he saw Jake, you, and Araon at the supermarket.

Bradley would always get nosy and ask Jake about his wife. But Jake would always deny it or brush Rooster off, making Bradley feel like he was crazy.

"What are you talking about? Nobody would settle down for Hangman." Phoenix laughed at Bradley's remarks when he brought it up again.

"Nah, Nat I saw it with my own two eyes. Jake was kissing his wife at the supermarket the day before the Fourth of July weekend pushing his kid around a shopping cart." Bradley tried convincing his best friend but Natasha wasn't buying it. She only knew Jake as an asshole instead of the husband who rubbed his wife's feet when he got home.

"You're going nuts, Bradshaw." Natasha scoffed.

"Must be all the jet fuel getting to his head," Jake smirked at Rooster. Since nobody believed Bradley, all he was left to do was flip Jake off and head to his super hornet.

Then it was Jake's ranking ceremony and obviously his loyal family went to cheer him on. Once he got pinned, Lieutenant Commander Jake didn't hesitate to make a beeline straight for you.

"Oh my gosh super cute pin, jakey! I'm so proud of you. " You squealed pulling him in by his tie to kiss his lips.

"Couldn't have done it without you next to me, darlin'." Jake pressed his nose into your cheek before kissing you there.

"Good job Lieutenant Commander. You're so cool, Dad." Arron said looking up at him. Jake felt his heart fluttering at his son's words.

"Thank you, Aaron. Takes a cool person to know a cool person." Jake held out his hand and Aaron jumped up to high-five him.

From a few seats away he could see the daggers obviously staring at Jake and pointing at him. He read Bradley's lips when he said.

"I told you! But nobody believed me!" He kept his family a secret because he didn't like to mess up his work life with his home. But it was too late now everyone had seen his wife kiss him and he had the lipstick on his mouth to prove it.

first ever Jake blurb. Sorry Bradley but, got to move on when there's a drought since roosterforme hasn't been posting

[jinuaei]

Wait wait wait... TFP S1 E13 the cortical psychic patch with Megatron... Probably OOC Idc

Yan! TFP Megatron x medic bot reader

Uh... middle of the night writing hopefully it's understandable

Word count: 1.3k

Reader is Knockout's assistant and was tasked to basically be Megatron's bedside nurse. To Megatron, you were no one, just a bot that meekly follows behind Knockout or Breakdown. You are usually seen helping Knockout in checking up on him, or helping Breakdown clean up Megatron. But this time you were tasked to make sure Megatron never wakes up.

So Knockout — under Starscream's orders — had you connect to Megatron via the CPP, and gave you orders to stay low and ensure that Megatron stays in stasis lock. You do, observing him killing Optimus Prime over and over and over. You have stayed inside his head long enough to make you get used to the repetitive behaviour and become negligent on your task.

You were sloppy enough to have Megatron notice you hiding behind one of the rocks, tiredly nodding off. You snapped out of your short nap after hearing Megatron's canon preparing to shoot, scaring you half to death.

Megatron questions who you are, thinking you were an autobot and you quickly answer, fearing his wrath, but he doesn't kill you, instead he lowers his weapon, finally remembering that you are that shy little bort Knockout brings with him. Knowing that you are a Decepticon, he leaves you be, but you follow behind him regardless of his glare. 

Over time, he got used to your presence, following him or keenly observing him do whatever he does. The longer you stayed in his mind, the more he noticed odd quirks of yours that he deemed… adorable. Like how you kick your pedes that’s hanging off the edge of the platform above the arena while you observe him, or how you play with the loose rocks by stacking it on top of each other when you are bored.

Additionally, you tend to recharge a lot, understandable considering there’s nothing really happening much in his mind, other than killing Prime of course. He often sees you recharge on the cold platform, occasionally shivering. 

No, he definitely did not think it was endearing that you stop shivering when he gets closer, finding safety in his presence. And no, he did not think it was cute how you would nuzzle close to his servo when he moves to caress your cheekplate, that did not happen and will never happen again.

But when you woke up you found yourself on a berth, a proper berth on top of the platform, complete with a ‘pillow’, as those humans call it. You look over to Megatron in confusion but you find him killing prime (again), but if you only looked closer, you would see him smile as you cuddle the pillow close to you. He did not know how he managed to create that, but when he thought about how pitiful you looked on the ground, it suddenly appeared 

You don’t know how long you stayed inside his mind, you don’t know what day it is, where the Nemesis is or hell, you don’t even know if you’ll ever wake up in your original body again. But Megatron has been oddly sweet to you, or as sweet as Megatron could be. The berth has now expanded, it became a proper house now, complete with 2 berthrooms, a kitchen (that none of you really use but you enjoy the act of ‘making’ something), and a ‘living room’ with a tv (that only plays Megatron’s battles during his gladiator days)

It’s honestly rather cozy, and you noticed that Megatron has been killing Optimus less and less. Now instead accompanying you inside the house, oftentimes lazing on the couch or watching over you when you do something. 

I like to think this reader, though a cybertronian, has a thing for human homes and how domestic it is. So most of the ‘human’ objects came from your mind, doesn’t the CPP go both ways? So it is possible for Megatron to know about human domiciles due to your knowledge passing onto him. (I’m delulu let’s just say I’m correct on this :P)

One time you talked to him about flowers, and described to him how organic flowers look, he summoned one with the best of his abilities but what appeared was an amalgamation of metals that’s in the shape of a rose. Now those roses are planted outside your house accompanied by your flowers.

The moment you remembered that the bot you are with is the Leader of the Decepticons and is actually dangerous was when you tried to explore the place the best you can. When your pede reached the bottom of the stairs his voice called out to you from the top, it was cold, calculating… dangerous. And as you look up, his face is covered in shadows, optics bright, and frame tense. 

He does not like you being away from him.

Since then, you have not strayed far from your ‘home’ and when you tend to the flowers he is often found staring you down from within the home, his silhouette always standing behind one of the windows, looking over you, making sure you never stray away from his sight.

This routine followed the both of you until one day as you were talking to him, him softly responding to you, you suddenly disappeared. One klik you were there, the next, you were gone. He tried to find you within your home, checking every room, every nook and cranny that you could hide in. He thought you were playing that stupid hiding game, of course, he would always find you, but this time, he couldn’t.

And after searching every place he could think of, even outside yours and his home, he flips out. He deemed you a traitor and destroyed every piece of furniture within your home in anger.

How could you leave him? After giving you everything you wanted? All that stupid organic items, that stuffed bunny that you adoringly name as ‘Megatron jr.’, and even the flowers. How could you betray his spark and abandon him?

He started ripping apart the pillows, the sheets, even the walls are not safe. But when he is staring down at Megatron jr. he feels a sudden coldness on his spark.

Why did he blame you? No you would never, you are too kind to even be a Decepticon, nevermind a traitor, so someone else definitely took you away from him. Yes, that’s it, someone took you, far far away from his safe clutches. And he intends to hunt them down and kill them to even dare to touch you. With renowned energy he gently tucked Megatron Jr. inside his sub space and went out to seek you.

When he reached the arena he found himself staring at the autobot scout, enraged, he went to attack him but found himself unable to. Someone from the autobot team must have realized that Megatron is currently in a dangerous state because Bumblebee disappeared from his very optics, but by then it was too late, Megatron already knew the truth that everything was fake, the house, the plants, the battles, were part of his mind. And a thought crossed in his mind that maybe you were also fake… but he refuses to believe that. 

Due to his feral state or perhaps his obsession with you, he somehow manages to wake up from his processor dead state and is now staring at Starscream and Knockout, he ignores them and tries to find you. You were next to him, recharging, ‘forced into stasis lock by one of the autobots’ Knockout said, it was lucky that you would wake up soon, he would hate to kill Knockout if he was wrong.

Megatron then grabs your recharging form, intending to have you rest in his... no, both of yours berthroom. Just because it was all in his mind, does not mean it was fake, he can, and will be keep everything the same, but this time — everything is real.

[sqrclouds]

i won’t kiss your friend, konon. ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

pairing. best friend’s brother! nishimura riki x fem reader

synopsis. unbeknownst to you, konon made riki promise to never touch you. you’ve been crushing on him for years; will he give in?

wc. 2.1k

warnings. brief makeout session, angst

pls feel free to send in requests! i write for all enhypen members <33

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

riki was never the best influence. you had to be near him, though, as he was your best friend’s brother.

you and konon have known each other since you were kids. you were seatmates in school and you both became friends immediately. she knows every little thing about you: your biggest fears, your best subject in school, your middle name. there was one thing you wouldn’t tell her about — the crush you had on her brother.

it was small and came and went. you always found him cute, and as you grew up, he became more attractive. you wouldn’t act on it, you only stole glances of him every now and then. you were shyer around him.

riki was known to have a different girl on his arm frequently. he’d talk about one girl to you and konon, then go on to a different one the next week. you knew he wasn’t good for you, so you kept your distance the best you could. you weren’t innocent, you were just inexperienced in a sense. nothing compared to riki.

konon knew this, and she made riki swear up and down that he would never touch you. he even swore to himself that you weren’t his type. maybe it was the fact that he swore to never get involved with you, but he found himself attracted to you more with every passing day.

you’re sat in konon’s room with snacks and drinks spread around while you talk about anything that comes to mind. “university has been so hard recently,” you complain. “seriously! i’ve just been so burnt out recently” konon tells you. just then, there’s a knock on her door. “come in” she calls out.

you can see a head of black hair peek behind the door before he opens it wider. riki had recently dyed his hair back to his natural color and it made you feel more entranced by him. “oh hello”, he says to you, “didn’t know you were here,” definitely something you were not supposed to be attracted by as the man barely paid attention to you.

he turned his gaze towards his sister, “do you want to order takeout or something? i’ve been craving it.” she looks to you, silently asking if you would want to. you nod and she responds, “sure. get me the menu and we’ll look”

when he leaves, your mind is clouded by him. the dangling of the earrings he was wearing, the way he was speaking, his comfortable outfit, everything. while you don’t want to give away your crush, you ask konon, “wow, he’s changed a lot, right?” she rolls her eyes and replies, “he has. i’m surprised he hasn’t brought a girl home tonight.” you giggle, but a light blush sets on your skin.

once you have the restaurant menu, you and konon pick several things to share and she texts riki the order. “i think he’s paying tonight. that is so out of character” she’s surprised. you take a mental note to thank him later, but you’re not sure if you can without becoming flustered.

when the food comes, he delivers it to your best friend’s room, grazing your hand slightly. his touch sent a warm feeling on your hand, and even when he pulled away, you could still feel it. he steals one last glance from you before leaving to eat his own food.

“that was so weird” konon calls out, noticing his peculiar actions. “he’s acting like…” she trails off. you raise an eyebrow at her, “like what?” she has to think for a moment, “like he cares about you.” those words made heat rise to the entirety of your face and you pray she didn’t see it.

the food was regular takeout, but it tasted better when you remember that riki paid for it. you were helpless with your crush and the clock was ticking until konon found out. you had to keep quiet. you had to pretend like he wasn’t most of your thoughts when you were sitting in silence.

after that night, riki’s flirtatious behavior only increased. he’d often sneak glances at you while you pretended not to notice. he’d make a point to touch you when he handed you things. he’d move you out of his way by grabbing your waist.

you try to act like everything was normal. you only speak to him when spoken to, or unless you feel like you absolutely have to. however, it felt like you needed to be around him. you could look, not touch, that’s what you told yourself.

you’re sleeping over at konon’s house, as usual, when you wake up in the middle of the night. you begin coughing from a dry throat. quietly, you get out of bed and make your way towards the kitchen. you open the fridge and grab a bottle of water before drinking it and walking back to konon’s room. you’re just about to pass riki’s room when the door opens and you immediately look up at him.

“hi,” he says smoothly. you gulp. you needed more water. “hello” you greet as best as you can. he gestures towards your water bottle, “i was just going down there for that” he meets your eyes again. you regrettably ask “would you like some?” as you hold out the water bottle to him. he doesn’t say anything, he just takes it and drinks from it too.

you try not to think about the fact that you indirectly kissed. he hands the bottle back to you, “see you in the morning, angel.” you almost choke. you only wave before going back to bed. there is no way that just happened.

your mind is silenced by sleep overtaking you once you lie in bed. you look at konon and you feel terrible. how could you do this to her?

the next morning you’re laughing with your friend as you make breakfast together. riki comes out of his room, humming to himself once he sees you. you continue talking to konon as you make food for all three of you.

riki so graciously sets the table before you set down the breakfast you made: egg dashi and various side dishes. you turn to use the bathroom before breakfast, and riki follows. he corners you between the restroom and his room. “you’ve been acting differently” he says, his voice a little husky. you decide to play innocent. “i haven’t” you shake your head.

“i’m not stupid, i know you like me” he says darkly, almost teasingly. you want to speak up, but you know your voice will come out in a squeak. he gives you a small peck on the lips before leaving you to go back to the kitchen. you stand there stunned.

you see him around university sometimes. often, he’ll be in the same lecture hall as you, or coming as you are leaving. this time, you’re leaving your last class of the day when he stops you by grabbing your wrist. “hey, angel” he whispers. you can only stand there in silence as you watch the rest of your classmates file out of the hall. you’re quite embarrassed that anyone could’ve heard him.

“what’s wrong with you? i’m not one of your girls and you know that, riki” you say, raising your voice ever so slightly. “not one of my girls, but my girl” he bites his lip. you want him… no, you need him. you lean up to crash your lips onto his. he wanted you and he’ll have you.

he gasps quietly at your boost of confidence but quickly goes back to his confident demeanor. the kiss isn’t gentle; it’s rough with desire and the latest weeks of pent up frustration. he’s meticulous with the kiss, biting your lip to ask for permission to explore your mouth.

you part your lips slightly, moving your fingers to thread through his dark hair and pull at the strands there. he can’t help but groan at the feeling as he moves his hands to your waist, gripping it harshly. you moan as his lips and tongue move against yours. the kiss is somewhat sloppy but the feeling has you desperate.

he pulls away after nipping your bottom lip. your hands are still in his hair as you pant from the lack of oxygen. “you’re a good kisser. lets me take control” he smirks. you roll your eyes, “your girl?”

“you’ve always been my girl. just didn’t know it yet” he says, still smirking. “what about all of those other girls? the ones you were always with?” you ask genuinely. “was trying to make you jealous, baby. it never worked so i stopped” he honestly answers, although it sounds daft now that he says it aloud.

there’s only one thing running through your mind now: you have to tell konon. you bite your lip before speaking again, “i have another class to go to, but i’ll see you later?” he nods, “see you” and he leaves.

you rush to konon’s house. the guilt is eating you alive and you only kissed him five minutes ago. once you reach her house, you knock on the door frantically. she opens it in a rush, “oh my god, are you alright?” she ushers you in, closing the door and locking it.

“no. konon, i did something terrible!” you want to scream, but she holds your face and caresses the skin there. “hey… no… what happened? you can tell me, okay?” you burst and say quickly, “i kissed your brother! i’m so sorry, i just-“ she removes her hands from your face. “no, no, konon, please just-!” your eyes fill with tears.

she shushes you, “it’s okay… don’t be upset. i’m not upset.” you let out a breath, but there was something in your head that she was definitely upset about something.

to make you feel better, she tells you to relax in the shower. you oblige, knowing that would calm you down in this moment. you just hope she’s not angry at you. after your shower, you put on some of her clothes that she left for you to wear. you go out to talk to her.

“you kissed her? are you serious, riki?” you hear her screaming and a pit forms in your stomach. “it was a mistake, alright? i shouldn’t have done it!” you hear riki’s voice echo off the living room walls. you can only freeze in place. a mistake? it would’ve hurt less if you didn’t like him as much as you did.

after a few more curses thrown around, konon looks past riki to see you behind him. she gently escorts you to her room while tears pool in your eyes. she speaks to you softly once you’re sat on her bed, “i’m not upset with you, okay? i’m upset with him. he swore not to do that. and i know for sure you weren’t the mistake. he feels guilty for kissing you,” the tears begin flowing and you cry into her chest.

you were at least glad she clarified the “mistake” part. you just didn’t know how to feel about her telling riki not to kiss you. deep down, you knew it was because of his reputation, but you didn’t want to admit that.

after what feels like hours of crying in her chest, there’s a knock at the door. you both know it’s riki, and you don’t say anything as he opens it. “can we talk, alone?” he asks, his question directed to the both of you. you nod, and konon stands to leave while riki kneels in front of you. “i’m so sorry,” he begins, “a while ago i promised her i would never touch you. i liked you too much and my desires got the best of me.” you sniffle and he continues, “you don’t have to forgive me, but i care for you a lot. i want you and only you.” he reaches to wipe the tears off your face. your eyes meet his for the first time that night and you can tell he’s sincere, but you need time.

both konon and riki allow you that time and space. you haven’t talked to either of them in days and it feels like it’s killing you inside. they smile at you on campus, they wave, and you feel terrible for not doing it back. you know they’re both sorry, so you finally decide to stop ignoring them.

you knock on the door and riki is there to answer it. he looks at you, not knowing what words will pour from your lips. “i forgive you, both of you” you tell him, afraid to show any emotion. he smiles and reaches his hand out for you, and you take it. a smile reaches your lips too as he pulls you inside.

[moonlight-prose]

for tommy 😌

❛ coming here to see you is the only place i could go. ❜

❛ if you won’t take care of yourself, then who will? ❜

last night on earth

a/n: so years ago when s1 happened you sent me this request and i finally finished it! this is the sequel to tommy's fic it will come back because i am incapable of doing one shots. i originally was tempted to do a small series with these two when i first wrote that fic and i might continue this. but for now enjoy some angst with the husband. it took forever, but i hope you like it babes!

summary: life was quiet. forever lingered in the distance, beckoning you forth with kind words and saccharine promises. you were filled with a love that wrapped around you like vines in a forest. you were with the man you loved. until life carved a new path you couldn't ignore.

word count: 5.3k+

pairing: pre-outbreak!tommy miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, fluff, romance, tommy being hopeless in love, p in v sex, dirty talk, he's filthy with it, spit, teasing, unprotected sex (do not follow his example), tw vomiting, blood, tw death, horror genre, gore, enough angst to hurt, heartbreak, UNHAPPY ENDING, survival.

The dishes still had to be put away—dinner half eaten and forgotten about. Tommy came home later than expected, the two of you missing one another every morning and night. Two passing celestial bodies, never able to catch one another as you drifted by. The sun and moon rising and setting, only to find one another again at specific points as the universe gave you small chances here and there.

You fell asleep staring at the stone that sat atop your ring finger, the gold band heavy against your skin. For a while you were adamant on staying awake to greet him, to reheat his dinner and sit with him. But the exhaustion won the battle—sleep victoriously dragging you beneath the waves of consciousness.

On the nights he staggered back to your place Tommy found you curled in his shirt, your hand clutching his pillow. A piece of his heart sliced off in order to form you—the other half of his brittle and broken soul.

So, he did what he could to get off work. Explaining to Joel in a wearied voice how he had to make it home, terrified that his fear of you growing tiresome with this disappearing act would lead to something worse down the line. It ate at him on nights when he wrapped himself around your sleeping form, hands buried in the warmth of your flesh and body molded to yours.

What if this was it? What if one day you would eventually give up in your waiting?

He wasn’t afraid of much. Too preoccupied with what life dealt him—a job that took more than he’d ever get back, a family he longed to bring you into. But the idea of you giving up on him ripped into a heart that beat in time with yours. He was a lucky son of a bitch to have found you—life handing him something good.

Losing you was something he couldn’t risk. A future he refused to accept. He placed the ring on your finger, he watched your eyes gleam—your smile burning like the sun and like a fool he rose high enough to feel his wings give out. His fate that of Icarus.

Nothing beat the look you gave him when he walked through the door, weight falling off his shoulders and hitting the floor with a thud neither of you could hear. As if the dark gray clouds finally parted, sunshine filling his world.

There you were, his future, still willing to give him all of your love. Pressing your heart into his calloused and rough hands without hesitation; such a simple decision for someone who trusted too much.

The both of you had barely gotten halfway through dinner before Tommy leaned over and kissed you. The taste of him on your tongue after so long sent a low curling heat to emerge from your core. Spreading sluggishly through your body as he licked into your mouth.

You clutched at his shirt, forgetting the meal, in order to have some leverage while you clambered into his lap. His hands gripping your hips and shoving the dress you wore up.

“Missed you honey,” he murmured, hands curling over your ass and blunt nails sinking into your soft flesh.

The heady scent of your perfume filled his nose, plaguing senses he otherwise might have needed given any other day. But tonight he indulged. He sucked on your tongue with a pleased hum, dragging you up high on his lap until your core pressed to the cold belt buckle on his pants. You practically tore at his button down, shaky fingers ripping at the buttons as he drink down the taste of wine off your taste buds.

“Tommy,” you whined, hips grinding down to feel how hard his cock was, twitching beneath the constricting denim. “Missed you so much baby. The house is so empty when you’re gone.”

He smiled against your cheek, delighting in the flutter of his stomach. “‘M here every night sweetheart.”

“No you’re not,” you sighed, lips dragging a trail down the pulsing vein in his neck. “You’re not inside me.”

Choking on his spit, he struggled against the light headed sensation of having you hump your clothed cunt along his belt brought him. “Jesus baby-”

“Miss your cock.” The words were mumbled against his neck, heat blooming with that unfamiliar streak of shame beneath your skin.

This was new to you, wanting him this way. You couldn’t breathe when he was away—fighting tooth and nail to stay upright as you waited for him to return. His touch, the taste of his tongue on yours, the feel of how he stretched you on that kitchen floor left you aching for a piece of what you knew he could give. Begging like an animal in heat never appealed to you…until you were alone.

Replicating his touch stopped being an option the more he ruined you. Your fingers unable to match the size and roughness of his. Memories never matching up to the physical reality of having him under you like this—hands gripping your hips to maneuver the way you moved. Fingers clawed at his back muscles, the longer you waited dragged you closer to that pit of insanity.

A madness created and formed by love.

“You miss it huh?” The teasing lilt of his voice didn’t go unnoticed, heat burning past your veins until nothing but ash remained in an aching body. “What do ya miss about it?”

His name was the only sound you could get out, lips forming each letter like a prayer. A plea to be answered by the man you worshiped as your god.

“I…”

A tight grip on the back of your neck pulled you back to face him, brown eyes now black with every ounce of emotion he swallowed down. “Use your words now.”

The words were a whispered admittance to the sin that strung along each artery, pulling taut as he pulled at your bottom lip, thumb brushing along your bottom teeth. “All of it. I miss you coming in me.”

He groaned, hips bucking up to meet yours. “You tellin’ me you want me to breed you?” Air punched from your lungs at the feel of him pressing down on your tongue, lips closing around the digit with ease. “You wanna be filled baby? That it?”

Nodding emphatically, you welcomed two more fingers hooking behind your teeth, the wet drip of your spit smearing along your chin and down his wrist. The food sat forgotten about on the table, growing cold the longer you sat perched in his lap. You could hear the chair creak beneath the weight of both of you; precarious suddenly became an understatement as his hand tugged at your lace waistband.

“How wet are you?” he murmured, fingers dipping along hot skin and past a patch of curls he longed to bury his nose in. Breathing the scent of you until his lungs burned with the effort. “Makin’ a mess on my jeans.”

“Mhm.” The muffled spit of your words struck another match along your spine.

He held your mouth in his hold, nose pressed to yours—watching. Picking apart each shift of your body and whine that tore from the base of your throat.

Calloused fingers pressed to your clit with ease, rubbing quick and rough as your legs kicked out beside him, hips canting down into whatever touch you could get. He grinned at your whimpers, the wet echo of of your slick filling the space. Tommy wanted it injected into his veins. The sound of your pleasure, body writhing at his touch, was all he could hope for on nights spent holding your sleeping form.

“You’re gonna get me a lil wet sweetheart,” he mumbled, kissing along a strained jaw. “So you can take me nice and easy.”

You said his name around spit soaked fingers, eyes glossy with unshed tears that begged for mercy. The peak of bliss rushing through your body, pulling at your stomach tight enough to hurt. He could feel your walls flutter as two fingers pressed in, the heat enough to make his cock jump in anticipation.

You were a fucking mess—ruined beyond anything he’d seen before. But the beauty of watching you unravel in his lap stole the breath from his lungs.

“I can feel it,” he said, urging you on with curled fingers and a thumb of insistence. “Let go yeah? Fucking give it to me.”

A cry ripped from stuttering lungs, thighs trembling and eyes rolling back as you were sent to the peak of everything you burned for. You gushed over his hand, slick pooling along denim until a dark patch formed along the fabric. Part of you might have felt shame any other time. Tonight you gave into what you’d gone without for so long.

“There she is,” he praised. “My pretty little pussy.”

“T-Tommy,” you gasped, his hand dropping to cup your chin, dragging wet lips to his until his chin was smeared in it. The taste of wine still prominent on your tongue.

“You can take it.” Before he said the words you knew you’d follow what he said until your body was in the grave.

He owned you.

Shaky hands unbuckled his belt, tugging at the button on his jeans until he complied with a pleased grunt. The feel of his cock leaking had saliva pooling in your mouth—his taste a lingering memory on a mind plagued by the haze of need. He’d ruined you before, destroyed all that you were with a pleased smile on bruised lips; you wanted him to do it again, his touch the water that washed along a parched throat.

“Go on,” he spurred, cupping your extended throat. “‘S yours.”

Yours. Yours…

Tommy pulled at your hips, lifting where you had no strength, and allowed you to set a pace that was always in your hands. His head fell back, eyes fluttering when you took the head with sharp gasps and whimpered sighs—the painful stretch of bliss surging along an arched spine. You would burn alive for him, set the flame yourself with broken matches and wood soaked by the River Styx.

Dropping yourself down with a groan you felt him shiver beneath your palms, eyes twisted shut and sweat coated brow furrowed with the effort it took not to come. His ragged breath left you high on the feel of him buried right down the base. Until you swore he sat in the base of your throat.

His eyes slid open with a punched out groan, hands kneading the flesh of your ass in an effort to keep you still. This was his favorite part. Witnessing the other half of his soul perched on his lap, stuffed full of a cock that twitched for you.

“F-Fuck you feel like heaven,” he managed to get out between grit teeth and harsh breaths.

“Can I…” Gasping at the small shift of his hips, you felt him rub perfectly along the clenched walls of your cunt. “Please Tommy.”

“Like I said.” Fingers wrapped tight around your throat, tugging you close enough to feel his lips brush yours with each whispered word. “‘S all yours sweetheart. You can do whatever you want.”

Planting your toes on the cold tiled floor you pushed with all the strength that was left in your body, arms looped around his neck and lips mashed to his as he slid halfway out with ease. Slick clung to him, pooling on the patch of dark hair you would be happy to bury your nose in. Throat stretched and filled with the heavy weight of his cock. Later you’d indulge, in a proper bed where your knees could be saved from the ache.

You dropped down with a soft cry, eyes rolling back and body going rigid. Tommy took over before you could strain yourself again. Pulling and pushing you along in a stunted rhythm—the wet echo of skin again skin filling the kitchen.

Nothing could compare to the taste of salt along his throat, his voice a low rasp that pleaded for all you had to give. Nothing would tether you to the ground the way Tommy could. He echoed in the back of your mind, forever tied with the delicate band of gold on a finger you never once considered. Forever promised in this very room—painting the walls with the cries of your euphoria.

He hit a spot along your walls that burned a hole through your chest, pleasure pulling taut along an already sore stomach. But neither of you could stop. Your chests heaved, bodies coated in a thin sheen of sweat, and still he arched his back and fucked into you with unbreakable stamina.

“I want it Tommy,” you sighed into his mouth, tongue sliding along his bitten bottom lip.

“C-Can’t say shit like that.” A choked moan was muffled by your mouth, his thighs trembling and stomach tensing.

“But I do-”

Cutting you off with a grunt, his hand dropped between your bodies, thumb a harsh press to your clit. It practically begged for his touch. Weeping sweetly over his throbbing cock. Your fingers tugged sharply at his mussed curls—mouth forming a cracked sob of his name—and suddenly you were shoved into the arms of bliss. Spit trailed down your chin, his tongue leaving a hot path to swallow your taste, his throaty moan prickling along your spine.

You rolled your hips for as long as your body let you, feeling the sticky mess form between your bodies—staining the fabric of your clothes. Tommy’s breath hitched with a grunt, hands clutching at your hips to slam himself into you hard and fast. Each thrust quicker and shorter than the last, until he came with a shout—warmth spilling into you with soft breaths and furrowed brows.

“Fuck,” he gasped, lips sliding along yours despite the spit that smeared along his chin. “Wanna go again?”

“Insatiable,” you laughed.

His moan was soft, muffled into the heat of your mouth. “You can count on it sweetheart.”

“We forgot to finish dinner.”

“‘S alright.” Another kiss had you melting further into the warmth of his chest. “I got my eye on dessert.”

“Oh yeah cowboy?”

He smiled and your chest lit a fire bright enough to be seen miles away. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

SEPTEMBER 26TH 2003

The ring turned slowly along your finger, pushed to and fro as your mind was pulled from a heavy sleep—sunlight breaking past curtains that were rarely closed. You could hear birds in the front yard, traffic a few streets away, and Tommy’s breaths pressed against the shell of your ear. His body enveloped yours, chest giving off enough heat to almost feel unbearable. But over the months you’d grown used to the comfort it brought—waking up with him was enough to appease any sweat that clung to your skin come morning.

“You’re gonna be late,” you mumbled, shifting back into his form.

He smiled, twisting the ring with the tender touch of a man who still couldn’t believe you existed—that you said yes. “Joel will survive without me for an hour.”

“How many times do I have to say-” Sighing, you rolled to face him, eyes firmly shut to a cruel world that forced you wake so early. “I don’t want an angry Miller on my front porch.”

The brush of his knuckle along your cheek soothed the irritation in your chest—sleep calling you back with soft words and sweet promises. You were having such a tender dream. The laughter of a child echoing in the back of your drowsy mind, Tommy’s face flickering behind the shadow of a camera. Burnt candles and white frosting spread along the tip of your nose.

A future reaching out to guide you. Taking your unsteady hand with the knowledge that it would all work out—you’d find happiness in choosing Tommy.

You were always meant to say yes; always meant to be his.

“I made you lunch last night,” you mumbled through the haze his soft touch was putting you in.

“And how many times do I gotta say you don’t have to do that.”

Hitting his chest with a huff of annoyance, you felt his laughter reverberate through you—settling beneath the steady beat of your heart filled with certainty. “If you won’t take care of yourself, then who will?”

“Guess I got lucky,” he breathed, lips finding yours with the ease of lovers who had been here before.

Lovers who would be here for decades to come.

The buzz of his phone forced you to peel your eyes open, sunlight blinding what little clear sight you had left. You could make out Tommy’s form shuffling through his jeans pocket—a small flip phone clutched in his large hand. He had the courtesy to whisper, but you could hear a voice soft and questioning through the speaker—Sarah.

“I’ll be there soon. Wake him up yeah?”

“Miller clan taking you away from me already?” you mumbled into his chest, body splayed across the soft bedding of a mattress his scent still clung to.

His sharp breath shouldn’t have made you smile, but the sheets pulling down to your waist brought light to his reaction. You were naked, body still pliant and sore from a night spent being pounded into these very sheets. His spend still stuck to your thighs, body humming in bliss from the indents of his teeth and pain of his grip as he yanked you back onto his cock.

“I could stay another hour.”

Words spoken under the heavy breaths he forced himself to take—eyes drinking in the sight of your ass peeking beneath ivory white sheets.

You smiled, propping your chin on folded hands. “Better not.”

“Half an hour,” he bargained.

“It’s never just an hour Tommy.”

“You’re killin’ me baby.” His groan rumbled beneath your body, hands sliding to cup your ass. “Don’t I deserve a good breakfast too?”

He did. He deserved to sink between your thighs, taste what he did with just a few words and a smile that crinkled the soft lines around his eyes. He deserved to fuck you until your throat went raw and his body gave out. But time was fickle and refused to take whatever you were willing to give for just a few more minutes.

So you pressed a kiss to his pouting lips—tongue sliding into his parted and willing mouth. “See you for lunch baby.”

“Unfair,” he grumbled, kneading your flesh hard enough to hurt. “Now I’m gonna be fuckin’ hard at work.”

“Then come home later and do something about it.”

“I will,” he whispered against your lips, one foot planted on the floor. “Coming here to see you is the only place I could go.”

“Tell Joel I said happy birthday,” you replied, happily tangled in the sheets as he stood with a groan. Already clothed and packed for a long day in the sun. Yet you couldn’t stop the tug of need around your stomach, the flannel he wore open to the white beater beneath. “And hurry home.”

6:OO PM

“I can barely hear you Tommy,” you practically shouted through the phone tucked into your shoulder, files for work spread along the kitchen table. “What was that again?”

He yelled, muffled cuss words being thrown out into a construction sight you’d passed by days ago. “Some of the guys wanna drag Joel out for a drink tonight. They’re wonderin’ if I wanna go.”

“And leave me here all alone? When I could get into…trouble?” you purred, teeth clamped on your lip to subdue your smile. “I don’t see why not.”

“Be fuckin’ careful darlin’,” he rumbled, voice cracked through a shitty phone line. “You’re gonna get it when I’m back.”

“Promises promises Miller.”

His chuckle nearly shot a hole through your stomach, the deep flare of want rising to a crescendo you could no longer ignore. The moment he quieted the doubts in your mind, putting the rest the part of you that could no longer see a time where he would stay, dug up another side of you that lay dormant for years. Passion was easier to find, love rang in your heart loud enough to deafen.

Purpose came without consequence—etched into the cage of ribs protecting a fragile heart held in his grasp.

“Stay safe.” They were words spoken before he stepped out the door, a small plea to drag himself back to you.

To appease the worry that gnawed at your twisting gut.

Something felt off in the air today—the chill of morning air biting along your bare arms and stiff neck. You wondered if it was merely your mind playing tricks. A day of unease before the unsettling feeling dissipated with morning. You waited it out, keeping yourself busy throughout the day, filling the time with tedious chores and half hearted tasks you’d later regret not completing.

“I always do.”

Your phone went quiet, his voice playing in the back of your mind, and you swallowed the stone stuck at the base of your throat.

9:00 PM

The toilet flushing echoed off the bathroom walls like the firing of a bullet. Loud and obnoxious and taunting you with the distress that ate away at your stomach. Breakfast didn’t sit well; lunch following the same pattern soon after. But the phone lighting up with Tommy’s name eased the pressure behind your eyes, fingers trembling and stiff as you snatched it off the counter.

“Please tell me you’re on your way home,” you sputtered, leaning back against the cold wall.

A sigh broke through the static. “We’re still at fuckin’ work.”

“Shit.”

“I know I’m sorry. You sound different. Everythin’ okay sweetheart?”

“I don’t know.” Swallowing through the biting wave of nausea, you settled the best you could in spite of a body that begged you for rest. “I think I caught a bug.”

“You want me to bail? I can be home in fifteen minutes if you-”

You groaned, chest fluttering. “Don’t be sweet Tommy cause then I’ll want to say yes.”

“You already said yes,” he said and you swore you could hear his smile through the crackling phone line.

“I did,” you breathed. “Said yes to forever.”

His breath echoed loud and clear—you ached for it to brush across your cheek. “You did.”

“Which means…” Sucking in a breath, you dragged yourself up on shaky legs. “You’ll have forever to take care of me. Finish what you have to do baby. I’ll see you sometime tonight.”

“Forever,” he replied, voice thick with an emotion you latched onto—unraveling it like a blooming flower begging to see sunlight. “I like the sound of that. I love you.”

You smiled. “I love you.”

MIDNIGHT | 12:00 AM

“You gotta give me another call.”

“That ain’t how this works Tommy and you know it.”

He sighed, fingers pinching his nose hard enough to have pain flaring behind his eyes. The men were shouting in the distance, fighting between the bars as officers ran to the front—guns held in shaky grips and eyes submerged in a wild look he’d seen once before. In the middle of battle, his comrades yelling for him to move, to get the fuck out of the way and duck. His stomach churned at the sight, heart twisting the longer he sat there.

“I need to call my girl-”

“I don’t have time for your shit Miller. Things are fallin’ apart here,” the officer spit, his body rigid, hands twitching at his sides. “You got your call. Just sit and wait for Joel.”

“But it’s important-”

A bang shook the windows, dust falling in a cloud from an already cracked ceiling. He’d been in a holding cell before, years before he met you, but tonight the air lingered with a chaos he’d never witnessed before. People were on edge, sitting in wait for something. Yet never quite knowing what that something was.

Tommy didn’t bother to ask, terrified of what the answer might be.

The door swung open, people shuffling in swiftly and falling over one another in the process. He spotted a familiar face pushing through the crowd, dark eyes a mirrored match for his own—brows furrowed with an anger that bled into thickening air. Pissing off Joel was one thing. But dragging him out on his birthday meant time away from Sarah, moments he’d never get back because his brother remained a fuck up.

A man who knew better yet chose to fall into familiar patterns of trouble.

“What the fuck Tommy,” he snapped.

Tommy pushed his way out of the opening door, reaching for his phone on the table. “What’s happenin’ out there Joel?”

“I don’t know.” He took the lead with ease, a natural instinct after years of brotherhood. “Took me an hour to get here with all the traffic. Figured it was a crash, but that’s not what I saw.”

“What’d you see?” Joel fell silent and Tommy watched as the wildness of survival—nights huddled by a fire with his weapon as his only companion, the need to make it back home burning into a mind wired with exhaustion—fell upon his brother’s face too. “Joel what the fuck did you see?”

An answer never came to the question they were both too afraid to answer.

Tommy knew what he saw. He watched it happen at the bar; the man lunging at a waitress with hunger in his broken screech. He witnessed humanity fall to the depravity of feral animals and like an idiot he chose to do something about it. Going to get a drink was a bad idea, he knew this at the time, but he was a man tainted by bad choices. He’d fallen privy to them his whole life—unable to keep away from their allure.

Joel’s face turned to stone, eyes glimmering with a darkness he’d seen once before—the time Sarah came crying because of a boy’s cruel words. “We need to get home.”

“My car’s at the fuckin’ bar.”

“There’s no time for that.”

“Okay. We’ll get Sarah and then I gotta make a stop-”

“Tommy.” He stopped, watching a flash in the distance and knew that there was no going back from this. “There’s no time.”

3:00 AM

The screams woke you up.

Horrid shrieks that spilled in through the open window—cutting through the air loud enough to make the hair stand on your arms. You thought you were dreaming. Caught in the snare of nightmares waiting to pounce, lies your mind whispered in the dead of night as you begged for peace. They started again, breaking the silence you welcomed on this particular hot night of September.

“What the fuck,” you muttered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as the neighbors screamed loud enough to startle you awake.

Your heart leapt, throat constricting at the sound of a blood curdling cry you could feel down to the tips of your fingers. Stumbling out of bed you found the phone on your nightstand, Tommy’s extra knife hidden in his drawer of flannels. You snatched it, holding it to your chest with a shaky breath and hope pushing past the fear.

The lights on the street were dead, cars lined perfectly down the street, and yet you couldn’t see Tommy’s truck in its usual spot. The driveway empty of everything except two trashcans. You sucked in a breath, clicking the lock on your door—settling in the rickety kitchen chair as the phone rang in the heavy silence.

“No,” you spit.

CALL FAILED.

It mocked you. Broke what little faith you had that peace would remain.

Tommy wasn’t home. Tommy wasn’t here.

Nausea flared to life, the stone in your chest sliding between aching organs and hateful parts of a body willing to turn on you. Worrying would get you nowhere. But the screams wouldn’t cease in the wake of your terror—sounding like alarms you couldn’t silence. The fear told you to get out, run from this place and find the man whose soul was twined to yours, sewn tight enough to hurt when parted for long enough.

No matter how many times you tried you couldn’t get through to his phone, the words blinking up at you in the dark of your house. He went out for drinks with Joel. You knew this, heard him say it hours before, but the realization was starting to settle on your already racing mind. The city was falling into chaos and you were stuck in the cross hairs—forced to survive it alone as you waited for Tommy to find you.

The glass door behind you shattered. A screech piercing the air loud enough to burst your eardrums, body going still at the sound of something dragging along your living room floor. You leapt out of the chair, phone clattering beneath the table as you finally caught sight of what was coming.

“Lily?” you breathed, your neighbor’s eyes rimmed red with an infection you couldn’t name, her face coated in blood that stained your rug.

She moved fast, throwing herself over the couch hard enough to drag it with her—a sound you’d never forget ripping past her unhinged jaws. You stumbled back, nearly crashing into the cabinets, but she caught you seconds before that.

Your head cracked against tile, arms flying up against her stretched neck—her jaws snapping hard enough to break her teeth. Screaming her name made no difference, she wouldn’t have recognized it anyways. Lily—the middle aged single woman you’d grown to like—was gone. Replaced by the hunger that ate at her mind. Driving her to claim the life of another, to add to an already large horde.

“Stop!” you screeched, plunging the knife into her neck with all the force you could muster.

Breaths fought to find a pathway to your lungs as you lay there, limp beneath the dead woman. Her blood stained the floor—coating your hands in a darkness you never thought might breach your shores. Death wasn’t something you were familiar with. Tommy shielded that from you in his stories of war, keeping the brittle parts of his soul trapped in his mind. He kept you safe from a cold touch he’d grown familiar with.

You killed her.

You took her life.

You…survived.

“Tommy,” you gasped weakly, shoving her off with a pained groan.

The back of your head was bleeding, vision going hazy, but you couldn’t find enough strength to fixate on that which you couldn’t change. His voice rang in your ears, leading you to the small emergency pack he made for you a month ago—teaching you that life might one day deliver pain to your very doorstep.

“Actually it came through the back door,” you sighed, wincing at the bubble of laughter that arose. You’d have to tell him that when you saw one another soon.

He was somewhere in the city with Joel and Sarah. But chaos had taken over whatever normal life once existed, cracking open your heart with an axe you never knew it could wield. Yanking the knife from Lily, you headed for your car on the street, the keys clutched in one palm and a weapon in the other. Bombs dropped in the distance, a blackened night sky flashing with enough light to bring forth the sun.

The engine roared to life and you slammed on the gas pedal, body numb and mind quiet for the first time. You could hear the screams in the distance, people running through streets blocked by carnage. Yet in the back of your head you heard it loud and clear.

A child laughing to the sound of a man’s voice—Tommy’s voice. A future you once thought might come to pass.

Forever. Now buried in a shallow and muddy grave.

[colonelkaboom]

Their Biggest Insecurities

✎ AN: What makes them the most insecure in your relationship? If you view them differently than I have described them here, I'd love to hear your opinion! I have no one to discuss this game with, so I'm truthfully very open to hearing other points of view. Word count: 1.1 k

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

❥ Xavier - Not being enough for you: Being with you was worth spending all his stamina on, there was no doubt in Xavier’s mind about that. However once his battery ran out, there was nothing he could do but go home and sleep. You’d happily join him for a nap. The issue was that he didn’t need a nap, he needed a minimum of 10 hours of heavy sleep to reach a semi comfortable 50% before he gladly let you drain him again. He loved your energetic passion and relished in simply watching you have fun as he sat back and rested. But, of course you wanted him to join you and share new experiences. 

He wondered when you’d get sick of quiet nights on the couch playing video games and watching movies. Surely you’d grow too restless for him soon. He’d understand, of course, he’d let you go if he had to. The thought made his chest ache. Where would you go? Who would you go to when he no longer excited you? There was one question he already knew the answer to; what would happen to him, when you were no longer his? The answer is simple, yet terribly complicated and difficult at the same time. The day you decide he can’t keep up with you anymore, is the day he’ll allow his battery to permanently burn out…

❥ Zayne - Being too cold for you: Shielding his emotions and remaining professional was a quality of Zayne’s that came in very handy when working as a Doctor. Remaining cool, calm and collected in any situation was part of what made him so good at his job. The issue arose when you became such a big part of his personal life. He had his ways of showing his devotion, but moving beyond small gestures no one but you would deem affectionate seemed to be beyond his reach. He was scared.

He couldn’t help but fear that perhaps you’d want more. That you’d want someone who would dare hold your hand in the presence of others. Someone brave enough to kiss you with all the passion he felt, every single time your lips touched his. Someone who was able to shout from the rooftops, for the whole world to hear, that he loved you. Someone who wore his emotions proudly, rather than keeping them hidden underneath small smirks and gently furrowed brows. Your continuous reassurance and reminders that you could read him like an open book, brought him little comfort. In fact, it simply made him more uncertain, assuming this meant his emotions were slipping through the cracks at a rate he could not keep up with...

❥ Rafayel - Being too much for you: Rafayel knew who he was, confident, talented, handsome, all laced with a spellbinding dramatic flare that only he was capable of wielding. But he was also emotional, needy and at times unreliable. All these qualities, both good and bad, could only amount to one thing; Too much. He swore he could sense it radiating from you at times, you were annoyed at him. He took it one sassy comment too far this time. It was supposed to be funny, but perhaps you were not in the mood for his humor today. Your busy work life drained you, leaving no patience for his antics. You couldn’t handle him. 

He’d attempted to keep his distance. Adopt a more quiet persona. But he needed your presence like he needed the ocean, he simply could not breathe without you. There I go again, being too much, too needy… He’d attempted to communicate his insecurities to you, and you did your best to ease his worry. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was simply too much for you. You’d realize sooner or later and leave him stranded and alone once more… 

❥ Sylus - Being feared by you: When he finally found you and you couldn’t resonate with him, he was terrified. The thought of you being afraid and disgusted by him made his usually hard exterior slowly crumble. No one could see it, not even you, but he was aching. In order to keep the N109 Zone his domain, being feared was a necessity. But you had no reason to fear him, why were you so scared? He’d never hurt you, surely you knew that? 

As you slowly warmed up to him, he dared melt furter into you. Yet, every time he saw you, he’d still have that lingering ache threatening his hard facade. Was there any trace of his business visible on him? Any blood from his enemies? Soot and ash from a bad deal going up in flames? Any trace of the dangerous activities he partook in, all in the name of Onychinus? How much of his villainous lifestyle would it take for you to finally back away? How much more could you handle before he’d find you quivering in a corner staring at him with tears in your eyes? He hoped he would never learn the answer to all these questions burning a hole in his heart. He’d rather not know... 

❥ Caleb - Being rejected by you: He’d spent his whole life catering to your every need, always doing his very best to make sure you had everything you wanted. He loved watching you smile, be happy, do well in school and have the privilege of witnessing you growing into the beautiful woman you are today. But most of all he loved when he was able to be part of or completely responsible for your happiness. 

That is why the distance that occasionally grew between you was so hard for him to handle. He lived for your satisfaction, and when you claimed that you didn’t need him or wanted to do something without his help, a small part of his heart broke. You would be right there to glue it back on, but as more and more pieces would break you simply couldn’t keep up with the maintenance he silently required. He asked too much of you, without asking anything of you at all, he knew that. How honest could he be without risking you finally shutting him down and backing away from him? You knew he was devoted to you, but his everlasting silence on just how devoted he actually was remained a painfully obvious secret. 

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

⋆ Read more ⋆ Masterlist ⋆

- Colonel Kaboom

[womenlovee]

The Void

pairing: ava starr x fem!reader

summary: ava doesn’t know what to expect when she walks into the void, but it definitely wasnt to be reminded of something precious she lost request

warnings: minor thunderbolts spoilers! angst BUT with a happy ending, and i think that’s it?

word count: 2.4k

author’s note: bold italics are flashbacks! otherwise nothing from me. happy reading!

“I’m going after her.” Ava says, leaving no room for argument as she walks away—only to be stopped by Bucky’s cold metal hand on her shoulder.

“And then what?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, his frown tight with stress.

“If she did that, she did it for a reason.”

“What if she’s dead?”

“And what if she isn’t?”

Bucky knew Ava was going to follow through whether he agreed with her or not, so with a clenched jaw, he gave a soft nod and turned his attention back toward Walker and Alexei.

Instead of running from the black shadows like they once had, they stepped forward—embracing the darkness that overtook them. Ava didn’t know what to expect, but she wasn’t just going to give up on Yelena or Bob.

It began with her childhood.

She wasn’t sure where she was until she heard her mother’s desperate shouts to run, and then she saw the younger version of herself sprinting back toward the room where her father was. Ava tried to intercept her younger self, by reaching out, but her body phased through her and metal bars came flying, caging her to the other side.

She was forced to relive the moment her life flipped upside down.

She had to watch her parents die all over again. She had to feel the moment she started dying herself—the moment the pain began to consume her and betray her body.

The memory played over and over like a cruel joke.

Once the metal bars finally released her, she found a gap in the walls and ran through it, only to stumble into another memory. One of herself, hooked up to machines, crying in agony.

She passed through two more rooms before breaking into one that felt familiar… comforting.

And that’s when she saw you.

You stood in the home you once shared, fiddling with a ring on your finger, your lip trembling, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. She didn’t remember seeing this—had never seen you this broken.

You jump when the front door opens suddenly, revealing your fiancée stepping inside and fidgeting awkwardly at the threshold. Grabbing a tissue from the counter, you quickly wipe your face, erasing any trace of your tears before she can see.

“Hey, darling.” Ava mumbles, walking past you without a glance.

Usually, you’d let it slide. At least you got a pet name. But now—sitting in your dress with mascara smudged and your eyes red—you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You forgot.” You whisper, just loud enough for her to hear.

Ava freezes mid-stride before slowly turning her head to look at you. There you stand in that plunging black dress—the one she loves so much, the one that hugs your figure and shows just enough to make her stare every time.

She closes her eyes, exhaling in disappointment. That nagging feeling she’d had all day—it wasn’t paranoia. It was something real.

“Fuck. I completely forgot.”

“This wouldn’t be the first time.” You say, gripping the edge of the counter.

Ava scoffs, tilting her head back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ava, do you even know why we had a date planned tonight?” You ask, voice quiet but pleading. Hoping—just hoping—she’ll remember.

“I— Date night?”

You close your eyes slowly as a single tear trails down your cheek. Maybe you’ve been holding onto false hope. Maybe you thought this time she’d get it right. That you would finally come first.

After a beat of silence, you sniffle softly and take a deep breath.

“It’s our three-year anniversary.”

Ava watches intently, unable to tear her eyes away. She sees how clueless, how cold, her past self looks, and how heartbreak clings to you like a second skin.

And you—god, you looked like you were crumbling.

She slowly walks forward in the memory, standing beside you at the counter. That’s when she notices it—the way you’re quietly fiddling with your ring beneath the marble surface. If her past self had really been paying attention, she might’ve seen what was coming.

“I said I’m sorry.” Ava huffs, rubbing her forehead with a gloved hand.

You let out a hollow laugh, eyes still downcast. “No, you didn’t. You never do.”

Ava’s jaw tightens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you barely act like I exist, let alone look in my direction. I’m just someone who keeps the other side of your bed warm.”

“I have a job.” Ava snaps. “An important duty outside of this relationship. I’m sorry if my focus isn’t always on you.”

Her tone is sharp. Dismissive. Defensive.

Ava flinches, her lip trembling. “Don’t say that to her.” She whispers to the memory of herself, voice soft, aching.

She shakes her head. She can’t believe how cruel she’d been to you. Beautiful, patient, loving you.

You warned her the day Valentina walked into your apartment, offering work that felt wrong. You told her it didn’t feel right. But she brushed off your concern, too eager to throw herself back into the field.

Now, with clarity only hindsight gives, Ava sees the truth.

Valentina never cared about her. She only wanted Ghost to do her dirty work—and when the job was done, she’d make Ava disappear.

And while Ava was off becoming someone else’s weapon, she left you behind. Left you thinking you didn’t matter. That you weren’t worth fighting for.

“It’s never been about me.” You say, quietly but firmly, and Ava stiffens.

That’s when you slide the engagement ring off your finger. Your hand stays curled around it for a moment—hidden, private, sacred.

“I’m so tired.” You murmur, voice cracking.

“Then go to bed, for all I care.” Ava snaps, throwing her hands in the air, turning away.

“I mean I’m tired of us.”

A metallic clink echoes as you set the ring on the counter.

Ava turns back, startled by the sound—eyes dropping to the small band sitting in the empty space between you.

“Wha—?”

You don’t bother hiding the way your face twists with heartbreak. With a shaky inhale, you finally speak what’s been eating at you for weeks.

“I’m leaving.”

It was so hard for Ava to walk away from this memory. Some part of her thought she deserved to have to rewatch what she broke until the void was satisfied, but she wasn’t here to pity herself. Not now anyways.

Once they had saved Bob and defeated the void, they suddenly reappeared in the catastrophic ruins of the city, glancing around as everyone who had been panicking moments earlier came back into focus.

As they scanned their surroundings, they saw Valentina yelling at someone on the phone, quickly drawing everyone’s attention toward the woman who had orchestrated so much chaos. None of them hesitated. They started walking toward her, united in their silent resolve—ready to face the person who had done so much, and tried to do worse.

“Hey, guys. We can talk about this.” Valentina stammered, shrinking back as she stumbled through the tarp behind her.

They followed.

That’s when they were all blinded by flashes erupting around them like lightning. Dozens of cameras. Microphones extended. Valentina’s voice echoing.

Ava steps forward, the memory still dissolving behind her like smoke. The sound of your voice—tired, heartbroken—still echoes in her mind.

But that wasn’t the end, was it?

The void may have forced her to relive the pain, but now, back in reality, Ava feels something else clawing its way up through the numbness.

Regret.

Her boots hit solid ground. The sky above is cracked with streaks of orange and violet, a strange but beautiful afterglow from the chaos of their battle. Around her, the remaining Thunderbolts gather, bruised and dirty but standing tall—hailed as heroes. The world doesn’t know how close it came to breaking, and maybe that’s for the best.

Crowds line the edges of the field, held back by barriers and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. People cheering. Applauding. Cameras flashing.

And then she sees you.

You’re standing near the front, just off to the side, your expression unreadable. The wind catches your coat, your hands folded tightly in front of you. You’re not clapping. You’re not smiling.

You’re just watching.

Time slows.

Ava’s heart slams against her ribs. The noise around her fades to a low hum. It’s not the first time she’s seen your face in the crowd. She’s imagined it a hundred times—hallucinated it more than once.

But this time…you’re real.

She starts walking. Then jogging.

Walker calls her name, but she doesn’t stop.

You don’t move as she gets closer. Don’t flinch. You just wait—arms crossed, guarded, but curious. Maybe unsure if she’s here to say something or just make peace with a ghost.

Ava stops a few feet in front of you, breathing heavily, not from the run, but from everything pressing on her chest.

She doesn’t know how to start.

So she just says the one thing that’s been burning in her throat since she left that memory room.

“I’m sorry.”

You blink. Slowly. Not cold, not cruel. Just careful.

“I didn’t see it then.” She continues, her voice soft and rough. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought if I kept pushing forward—if I just survived long enough—it would all be worth it. That I could make it back to you and explain everything and somehow that would be enough.”

You don’t say anything, but you don’t look away either.

“I broke us.” Ava admits. “Not Valentina. Not the job. Me. I chose something else when I should’ve chosen you. Every time.”

There’s a pause. Long and heavy.

And then, finally, you speak.

“You said that last time too.”

Ava swallows hard. “Yeah. But this time…I mean it. And I know that might not be enough. I know I can’t ask for a second chance.”

You look down, your fingers fidgeting. She notices. No ring. No necklace. Nothing tying you to her anymore except this moment.

“I don’t want to undo the past.” Ava whispers, stepping just a little closer. “I just want to say that I see it now. Everything you carried. Everything I ignored. And if I don’t tell you that, I’ll never be able to move forward.”

Your jaw flexes slightly, but your eyes soften just a little.

“Why now?” You ask. “Why after all this time?”

Ava exhales slowly. “Because I had to watch you walk away again. And this time…I finally understood why you did.”

Silence again.

Then your voice, barely above the wind. “That was never easy for me.”

“I know.” She nods her head. “It shouldn’t have come to that.”

“I saw everything again too, you know?” You admit, looking down at her shoes as you sway in the spot.

“What? How?”

“The black mist stuff took over the whole city. You can’t exactly run away from it.” You huff out a laugh, allowing Ava to finally let out a smile.

You both stand in front of one another, taking in each other’s appearances like you thought the other was gone forever. Small smiles etch on both of your lips as you both finally take in the moment.

“I am truly sorry.” Ava whispers again.

You reach out, gripping her gloved hand. “I know.”

“Do you think after all of this we can try again?”

Her voice is almost too timid, afraid she’s taken her chances too far but little does she know you were thinking the same thing. You give her hand a soft squeeze, directing her momentarily attention from the ground back to you.

“We can try again, but it’s going to take time. We can’t just pick up where we left off again.” You say softly but unwavering.

“That’ll be perfect, darling.” Ava rasps, grinning at the soft shiver that spikes up your body from the long awaited pet name.

Biting your lip, you look around at all of the press and cameras before looking at her with a shy smile. “I wouldn’t be opposed to a little kiss.”

The taller girl’s eyes widen slightly, not expecting to already be welcome this far. She quickly nods her head while her hands find your waist, pulling you in lightly.

Your hands wrap around her neck, pulling her down and closing the tiny gap she left in case you wanted to pull back. Both of you expect just a small timed kiss, but once you get the feeling of each other’s lips again, neither of you can let go.

Not caring about the cameras surrounding you two or the wolf whistles from Alexei, you both deepen the kiss, grasping for something you thought you lost long ago and craved ever since.

Ava doesn’t even flinch at the sound of Alexei’s whistle echoing through the chaos.

In another life, she might’ve tensed. Pulled back. Kept her guard up. But not this time.

This time, she lets herself feel.

When you finally break the kiss, the crowd around you has gone nearly silent. Not out of disapproval, but awe—the kind reserved for stories that feel earned. Ones that took blood, pain, and impossible choices to reach their ending…or maybe, their new beginning.

Your forehead rests against hers, your breaths syncing in a quiet rhythm only the two of you can hear.

“I missed you.” You whisper, voice soft like a prayer. “Even when I didn’t like you…I still missed you.”

Ava exhales shakily, closing her eyes. “I never stopped thinking about you. Not once. Even when I tried to forget.”

You both stand there, surrounded by noise, by the world watching, but in this moment, it’s just the two of you. Like the rest of it doesn’t matter.

Finally, Ava steps back just enough to really look at you. “So where do we go from here?”

You smile softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “One step at a time.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” She nods, almost to herself.

And as the Thunderbolts begin to regroup behind her—Valentina restrained, agents swarming the area, press still flashing cameras—you and Ava remain exactly where you are.

In the middle of chaos, you found each other again.

And for the first time in a long time, Ava feels like maybe, just maybe, she’s finally come home.

[lovetrouble123]

Trust In Me. I’ll Show You My World.

Synopsis: What’s playboy Bruce Wayne hiding?

TW: n/a

A/N: I hate this fic so much. Imma set it on fire:3 also this takes place during year one ish

⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆

Bruce Wayne, the playboy philanthropist, never truly expected to be tied down at any point of his life. He had flings in the past with random girls to keep up his persona, and had a few run-ins with Selina Kyle (for example). But at his core he was married to that cape and cowl. He was the Batman.

So maybe that’s why he’s getting irritated when his spouse was wondering where was when he wasn’t home. She had every reason to question him, but it really did annoy Bruce.

Did it look like he was cheating?

Absolutely.

It was easy to keep up the double life, but when he fell in love, it became all the more difficult. Bruce Wayne and the Batman were two sides of the same coin, and they were both in love with the same woman—their wife. So, if he had to hurt them to keep them away from his vigilante life then so be it. Even if it hurt.

“What I do with my free time is none of your concern, Y/N.” Bruce said, sitting in his office as he read over some documents for his company. It was rare for him to get actual free time. The type of free time where he wasn’t working as the CEO Bruce Wayne, or as the Batman. But was it really free time if he was still working?

“It does though.” Y/N insisted as she stood in front of his desk that was neatly cleaned (as usual). “You’re never home, and when you are home, you’re asleep or hauled up in here.”

“You knew this going into this marriage. You knew this when we started dating.” Bruce reminds, his eyes focused on the documents in front of him. “You knew I was a busy man, and you knew I wasn’t going to be around all the time.”

“Are you cheating on me?”

That caught his attention.

He looked up from his work as he took in her appearance. She looked so…sad and looked like she was waiting for Bruce to say he was.

“Where is this coming from?” He asked, “you truly think I would cheat on you? Sleep around with women behind your back?”

“Considering you’re playboy Bruce Wayne…it’s not entirely off the table.”

“I didn’t have any issues with sleeping around back then, but I’m not like that anymore.” Bruce firmly assured.

It was true. At one point in his life he would have slept around with women because he could. He was rich, had the status, the charm, the good looks—but it was all lies deep down. A way to keep up appearances.

“If you’re not cheating,” Y/N began, their voice dripping with a slight scoff like she didn’t believe him. “What are you doing? Because I refuse to believe you’re working all night long. I go to bed without you and I feel you crawl into bed with me in the early mornings.”

What was he doing?

He was at work and then going straight to patrolling on a normal day. But he couldn’t tell her that.

“I’m not sleeping around, alright?…I have business meetings.”

God, even he wouldn’t believe that lie. And for him, lying came easy considering he leads a double life that nobody but him and Alfred know about.

“At midnight and later? What?” She crossed her arms and raised a brow, “do you stay out all night partying and getting drunk?”

Partying was the last thing he could do, even if it was a gala or a charity event. He always found himself having to sneak off early and play the role of Gotham’s Dark Knight. Besides, he preferred patrolling over partying.

“I’m the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, love. I work with people all over the world. So yes, midnight or later.”

At least that part was true…for the most part.

“Right,” Y/N replied sarcastically.

Bruce finally stood up from his chair and came around his desk causing Y/N to take a step back. “It’s the truth, Y/N.” Half truth. “Why would I bother sleeping around when I have you by my side?” He took a step forward and took her hand, the hand that she wore her dazzling wedding ring on. “You know I would give anything to—.”

“—Do you still love me?”

Of course he did.

“I do. Why would you believe any differently?”

“When was the last time we went to bed together?” Y/N asked with a glare. “Our last date night? The last time we had sex?”

Unable to answer the question, he stayed quiet.

Bruce was too busy playing the role of the bat that anything that wasn’t pertaining was on the back burner. He was neglecting his life, though he had done that prior to meeting his spouse. He was neglecting himself.

He was neglecting her.

And that hurt the most.

“I know that I haven’t been the best husband,” Bruce finally said with guilt laced in his voice. “But you have to believe me when I say that I love you, Y/N.” He used his free hand to lift her chin up so that he could get a better look at her, and the sadness in her eyes. “Just because I’ve been preoccupied does not mean I’ve fallen out of love with you. You have to believe me.”

“Hard to believe when you’re never around,” Y/N bluntly said as she pulled away from Bruce.

“I’m busy. I have a multimillion dollar company to run. I’ve got business meetings and such. I don’t have time to take off and spend every moment of my life with you.”

Y/N knew that.

She was being selfish.

Expecting the worse.

“I just…wish you’d tell me the truth…what’s really going on.”

Bruce paused and stared at her with a conflicted expression. He wanted to tell her the truth, the real truth. He wanted to tell her everything, but what if she didn’t accept him? You’d view him differently.

“You won’t like the truth—.”

“—How do you know that?”

“You’ll think less of me.”

“So you are cheating.”

“No. No, I’m not.” Bruce says as he shakes his head.

“Then tell me the truth.”

“You’re not going to be pleased with me.” Bruce finally said, his eyes looking into Y/N’s own with determination. “I’m the Batman.”

“What?”

“I’m the Batman.” Bruce repeated, “I dress up as a bat and fight criminals at night.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not lying to you,” Bruce quickly said with a defensive tone. “I’m telling you the truth. I’m out all night taking down criminals…that’s why I come home late and why I’m always tired.”

“I know who Batman is. He’s that new vigilante who’s appeared out of nowhere. But I have a hard time believing that you’re him.”

He understood why they didn’t believe him. He wasn’t sure if he’d believe him either if he was her. Bruce Wayne was a playboy, and the Batman was a stoic man.

“I understand, but—.”

“—Prove it.”

Bruce hesitated for a moment before he grabbed Y/N’s hand, and before she knew it, she was under the Wayne Manor and descending down stone steps and standing in the middle of a dingy, dark, and cold cave—the Batcave.

“This is where I keep my suit, my gadgets, all of my Batman stuff.” Bruce said as Y/N glanced around eyeing how empty the cave was, especially how high up they were considering there was a bottomless pit just over the ledges. It was high tech and seemed out of this world impossible for someone to own, but Bruce was rich, so Y/N could believe it…barely.

“This…has been here this whole time?” Y/N asked in disbelief, her eyes focusing on the slick black Batmobile.

“Yes, this is where I spend a lot of my time if I’m not on patrol. This is where I’ve been, and why I’m so tired. It’s because of my double life. I patrol every night, beat up criminals, and on the occasion I team with the Commissioner.”

“…”

“Are you finally believing me?” Bruce gently asked as he watched you take in the Batcave.

“I-I’m sorry for accusing you,” Y/N apologizes.

“You didn’t know,” Bruce replied. “And it’s not the most believable thing in the world that I would be the Batman.”

“But now I feel bad.”

Bruce lifted his free hand and placed it on Y/N’s cheek, his calloused thumb gently brushing against her soft skin. “Don’t feel bad. Like I said, it’s not the most believable thing. Nobody would suspect playboy Bruce Wayne to also be the Batman.”

“Nobody…not even me.”

“I’m sorry that you believed I was sleeping around and cheating on you. I feel guilty for worrying you.”

“…”

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

“And if I did?”

“It could get me killed,” Bruce bluntly replied. “If you went around and told everyone then I’m sure people would come after me.” His expression hardened, his voice laced with seriousness. “You can’t tell anyone, Y/N. No one can know. Understand?”

Y/N nodded. “Then I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be my—our secret.”

Bruce nodded, “good. Our secret.”

[amirawrah]

✩The Softest Victory

with MICHAEL OLISE⭐︎REQUESTED BY ANON!

synopsis: Michael wins the Bundesliga, but the real victory is celebrating it with you—first at home, then with the team, and finally in a quiet hotel room where it all sinks in.

You found him on the edge of the couch, hoodie half-off one shoulder, thumb between his teeth.

He’d barely said a word in the last ten minutes.

The Bayer Leverkusen match was playing on the TV, volume slightly too high. Michael’s eyes didn’t leave the screen—every pass, every foul, every whistle made him flinch. Bayern had already played their match earlier in the day. Handled business. But the math still came down to this. A Leverkusen draw, or loss, would hand Bayern the title.

You padded into the room with a bowl of popcorn you knew he wouldn’t touch and nudged his knee.

“Babe,” you said softly. “You’re biting your nails.”

He didn’t respond. Just let out a shaky sigh and leaned forward like getting closer to the screen would somehow will the match in Bayern’s favor.

You dropped the popcorn on the table and slid onto the couch beside him, curling your legs under yourself. His knee was bouncing. The nerves were practically vibrating off of him.

“Michael.” You nudged him again, this time resting your head against his shoulder. “You do realize you already did your part, right?”

He exhaled again. “I know. But still... if they score now... it’s over.”

“You’ll still have more chances—”

“I want it tonight.”

That made you smile.

You’d watched him grind all season—travel, training, pressure, adjustment. The move to Bayern had been huge, and he didn’t talk about it much, but you knew how badly he wanted to prove himself. How hard he worked. How much he wanted to lift that trophy.

You reached up, threading your fingers through his locs, grounding him a little. “So if they draw?”

He glanced sideways at you, eyes flickering with hope. “We win the league.”

You tilted your head. “And if they lose?”

He smirked faintly, eyes flicking back to the screen. “We really win the league.”

You snuggled into his side, whispering, “Then I’m manifesting the driest, most boring nil-nil ending possible.”

He chuckled under his breath. “I’ll take it.”

Seconds passed. Then minutes. Leverkusen missed a big chance and Michael clutched his head, falling back against the couch like he’d just been shot.

“Why are they attacking like they need the three points?” he groaned.

You kissed his shoulder. “Deep breaths, champ.”

The word champ made his lips twitch, but he didn’t argue.

The final whistle blew after what felt like a lifetime.

Draw. 1-1.

You sat up first.

Michael blinked at the screen, stunned. Then slowly turned to look at you, mouth slightly open.

“…That’s it,” you whispered.

“Wait—” He grabbed the remote, flicking through post-match stats like he needed triple confirmation. The “Live Table” updated right before your eyes.

Bayern: Champions.

You tackled him before he could even react.

“YOU DID IT!” you screamed, half-laughing, half-crying. “Oh my God, Michael!”

He wrapped his arms around you instantly, burying his face in your neck as his breath hitched. “I can’t believe it,” he mumbled.

You pulled back, hands cupping his face. “Believe it. Bundesliga champ, right here in my living room.”

He let out a breathy laugh, leaning in to kiss you. “We need champagne.”

You grinned. “You’re lucky I already put a bottle in the fridge this morning. Just in case.”

He blinked. “Really?”

You shrugged, smug. “I had a feeling.”

Michael stared at you for a second, then shook his head and pulled you into his lap. “I love you.”

You kissed his jaw. “I love you more, champion.”

Your quiet little living room turned into the most important trophy celebration in the world.

The champagne cork had barely popped before Michael’s phone started buzzing.

FaceTime from Jamal. Then Serge. Then Phonzy. Then the team group chat lit up with voice notes, emojis, and wild celebration videos from every corner of Munich.

You’d barely gotten dressed when Michael pulled you into the closet, grinning wide. “They’re throwing a party tonight. Whole team. Wags too. You coming, right?”

You blinked, halfway through applying lip gloss. “You really think I’d miss your title party?”

He kissed your shoulder. “Didn’t wanna assume.”

An hour later, you were stepping out of a black car into the soft, golden glow of the venue. Music pulsed low in the background, tables were draped in red and gold, and a massive “CHAMPIONS” banner waved against the skyline.

The second Michael stepped in, all hell broke loose.

“AYYYYEEE—CHAMP IS HERE!” Alphonso yelled, pulling him into a bear hug so hard his backwards cap flew off. Kimmich poured him a shot before he even finished shaking hands with Thomas Müller. The DJ shouted his name over the mic and cheers erupted as the champagne bottles popped like confetti.

You stood to the side for a second, watching it all with your heart full. Your boyfriend—quiet, intense, private—was beaming. Laughing. Letting his teammates slap his back and pull him into photos.

Then his eyes found yours across the room.

That familiar softness flickered.

He excused himself from the crowd and walked over to you, tucking a curl behind your ear. “You look perfect.”

You smirked, leaning into him. “And you look like a title winner.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s because I am.”

The night went on in waves: toasts, dancing, speeches, photos. You fed him a strawberry off the dessert bar and the table behind you whooped like it was a goal celebration. Somewhere around midnight, Michael pulled you to dance with him.

You weren’t a flashy dancer. Neither was he. But the way his hands slid to your waist, the way he looked at you like the party blurred into silence—it made the whole room disappear. You pressed your forehead to his and swayed while confetti rained down like snow.

“Still feels a little unreal,” he murmured in your ear.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “You earned every second of this.”

He kissed you then. Not rushed or showy, just slow and full. Like he was remembering the quiet living room moment from hours before. Like he was dancing with his best friend, his girl, the one who watched him hope, worry, and win.

And in the middle of the music and champagne and roaring teammates, you whispered the truth into his shoulder:

“I’ve never been prouder of you.”

The hotel room he had booked - cause it was too late to go home - was quiet except for the soft rustle of your dress as you stepped out of your heels. Your feet ached, your throat was dry from laughing, and your cheeks still burned from all the pictures. But none of it mattered.

Because he was sitting at the edge of the bed, hoodie on now, locs a little damp from the champagne shower earlier. Michael glanced over his shoulder at you, a lazy, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“Come here.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice. You walked over and slid into his lap, the room smelling faintly of his cologne and confetti still stuck to the back of his neck.

“Did you have fun?” you whispered, your arms draped around his shoulders.

He nodded, resting his forehead against your chest. “Yeah. But this is the best part.”

You smiled softly, fingers brushing through his damp locs. “What, sitting in a dark hotel room with sore legs?”

“Sitting here with you,” he mumbled, eyes fluttering shut. “Everything feels right when I’m with you.”

You leaned back a little, your nose scrunching in amusement. “You always get so soft after wins.”

He smiled. “Only with you.”

The room went quiet again. You could still hear faint music from the streets below—honking, cheering, someone blasting Bayern chants—but it all felt like background noise now. He curled his arms around your waist, holding you like he didn’t want the night to end. Like winning wasn’t real until he shared the stillness with you.

You kissed the top of his head. “You know what I loved most tonight?”

“Hm?”

“Watching you let go. Be celebrated. You deserve that.”

He looked up at you then, eyes a little glossy but calm. “You know what I loved most?”

You blinked. “What?”

He tugged you closer, like it was obvious. “That every time I looked around, you were there.”

Your heart thudded a little louder.

You cupped his jaw, brushed your thumb across the curve of his cheekbone, and kissed him. Not rushed or urgent—just soft and certain. He sighed into it, the kind of sigh that came from peace.

The medals, the lights, the chants—they were beautiful.

But this? This was everything.