#they just had to take him away from me huh?

[amfstargirl]

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

So, pack up your car, put a hand in your heart, sing what ever you feel, be wherever you are

We ain't angry at you love. ⋆·˚ ༘ *

The pain of the neglected soul. Under the heavy mood lingering in the manor. An architectural design that screams wealth but is never wealthy with love and laughter. well, at least not to the second youngest child of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire playboy, the most powerful man in Gotham City.

Being a product of a mistake between an infamous prostitute and a well-known, almost "celebrity"-like man was not really an ideal life. Being shunned away by the woman who you call Mom, who's supposed to whisper sweet words to you and rock your fragile body back and forth to ease you of whatever you feel bad about, instead shoves you into the arms of an unknown man who's your supposed father. Yeah, that sucks.You've always adored your mom. Despite the horrible words she casually whispers to you - "you ruined me, kid"—you turn a blind eye to her actions and act deaf to her cruel words and instead pretend that she's the mom who loves you and adores you just as much as you do for her. Because it was better. It just was. Your brain can't really process the fact that your abusive mother can be abusive. No, not when she was the one who carried you for 273 days, birthed you, and gave you your name. A 5-year-old's brain can't possibly carry the thought of having that same woman hate you. So even when it was your birthday, you waited for her all day to come home and give you kisses and maybe a birthday cupcake or present. just for once, she comes home drunk, messy, and dizzy with a man on her arms while laughing feverishly. It crazy to think that was the most happiest you've seen her; she was always scowling when she was with you. Strange. Even so you greet her with a hug. "Momma, I've been waiting for you all day—" she cuts you off and tells you to get away from her and calls you this strange name "annoying" huh. Wonder what that means. And for the next hours you spend your birthday alone, in your bedroom. Awake and hungry. But it doesn't matter at least mom came home! Sometimes she doesn't even come home for a few days, but she came home today! That means she must love you. Only for a few days she stays at home with the strange man she brought home on the day of your birthday. It doesn't bother you, it was normal after all. She always do this and then after a few days the man's gone. Yeah, this is just temporary. You say as you clean the house full of dirty clothes and empty alcohol bottles. And then one night the strange man is yelling at your mom; screams filled the tiny apartment with smashing sounds of bottles echoing around the room. You're furious, and you want to defend the woman who you oh so lovingly call "mother" You push the man away, and it angers him. With his bloodshot eyes, he grabbed the bottle and smashed it at the side of your tiny head. You soon wake up in a large room with bright lights and thick white walls. Soon you find out that you're in a hospital; its so cool, it's the size of your living room! Maybe even bigger… Moments later you found out that your mother gave you up to some unknown man who is to be called your "father.". You thrash and scream against the nurse's hold and scream for your mommy, yet she never came.A strange man came and introduced himself. He said he was "Alfred" and said from now on he will take care of you. That's silly because no one in your entire life has had someone take care of you. Soon he drives you to a gloomy big house with lots of statues as Alfred proceeds to tell you that this will be your new home now. Different portraits adorn the walls, and shiny pottery and impressive works of art fill the house. Alfred soon introduced you to your father, Bruce Wayne. Now this is where it all starts. With your new home, hope sparked through your heart, and you believed that somehow, someway, maybe you'll be able to get the love that you have always longed for, yearned for, waited for.

Wrong.

Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, the most powerful man of Gotham, the heartthrob, the Batman, but never the father of y/n l/n. He doesn't even know you. Doesn't even try to acknowledge you and your hard work, desperate to try anything to make him pay attention to you. To give you the attention you crave and yearn for ever since you arrived at the comfort of his home. You weren't stupid. You knew who he was and his nightly activities. You understood. But what hurts was that despite this, he managed to give every. Single. One. Of his children, attention except you. Was it because you weren't like them? Was it because you didn't fight bad guys for a hobby? Or was it because he never deemed you worthy of his time? Why? Were all the things the kids and big adults whispered behind your back true? That you were a child of a whore and you were bound to become one too over a matter of time? Was it true you'll never compare to your siblings? Being compared to your siblings, who had so much talent and had their own special abilities that yours can't compare to, was draining—and partially true. Your little ballet classes can never impress bruce over his other children's combat skills, multilingual abilities, and genius calculations. And you learned to accept that over the years as you grew up.

Richard grayson, dick, the loving big brother, the family guy. Maybe he was a good guy. After all, he managed to acknowledge you for about 6 seconds one time! He even asked you about your ballet classes! Though that was only to distract his self before Damian came. Always the big brother and Lil brother duo! .. Despite being busy with being a full-time cop and a vigilante, he still makes time for family, the ones he considers as family. Not you, never you. Who were you kidding? Dick is the star of the show, and you're just another side character in his main character life! Just a plain, old, boring bystander. That's all you will ever be to little Richard Grayson's glam life story.

Jason todd was different. He was known as someone who was brutal and full of anger. So it was no problem for him to shove you and tell you off. He had no conscience in telling you to go away, and you liked that. You like the fact that at least he had the decency to not give you false hope. Jason todd hates you, and you know it. Jason todd is jealous of your normalcy and how oblivious you are to the danger of the world. In his eyes, you were his replacement; looking at you makes the green monster of envy crawl out of him and take his anger out on you. The way you are so vulnerable stirs something up inside of him, and he realizes that your eyes look just like his when he was full of wonder and innocence. It made him restless and irritated. It reminded him of his mistakes, foolishness, and those memories he buried deep inside his mind to save him from countless nightmares he desperately ran away from.

Timothy Drake, the genius Robin, the hero by choice, the prodigy son. You would be lying if you said that you weren't jealous of Tim at all. I mean, look at him! He's a genius, a hero, a heartthrob, and a role model to several youths of Gotham. He was exactly like Bruce, and I mean exactly like Bruce. His life revolved around solving crimes, fighting bad guys, acing all of his tests, and coffee. Anything was more important other than you. Sure! He has time to cuddle with his family for movie night (without you, of course) but never has the time to play video games with you. Everything seemed to send thrills to his veins and spark an interest in him except your very existence. If you were just a mere bystander in Dick's story, you weren't even in Tim's!

Cassandra. The girl of the family. You have always envied her. Not only was she the only girl of the family and doted on by every single one of your brothers, but you and she also shared the same interest. What's even more infuriating was that she didn't even have to try. She didn't have to beg countless times to have anyone attend her performances because they were all there. Even Jason, who hid in the shadows. They were all there to support her and show her the love you have always asked for, begged for. She swooned all of them with her dancing, and you can't help that maybe her hands are more gentle, maybe her feet are more pointed, maybe her posture is more straight than yours, maybe she's prettier than you, maybe she's more worth than you.

And finally. Damian al Ghul Wayne. The youngest son, the baby brother, the scarred child loved by his family. When Damian came into the manor, you were thrilled. You thought that maybe you and he could bond over the same trauma. Maybe finally someone can understand you.You thought wrong again. Damian thought you were weak and a disgrace to the bloodline of the Wayne family clan. He called you thousands of cruel names and insulted you whenever he had the chance to. He always belittled you and showed you no mercy, going as far as to drag the blade of his sword across your neck, drawing blood, just for him to cruelly laugh in your face and tell you that you are being dramatic. You forgave him. You were a good kid. Right? So why is it that a kid who made thousands of innocent lives bleed through his sword is sitting with his father—your father—on the couch, sleeping soundly on his chest? It's not fair.

They were never fair.

As Dick was checking the CCTV footage of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage—about 2 weeks ago—of a person packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates; it's impossible. Unless…Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed in on the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled, and his eyes dilated.

It can't be.

[ventismacchiato]

18 stuck with you — cherry blossoms !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

MORNING AFTER

You wake up, and the remnants of last night’s drinking are still rattling around in your skull. The harsh light streaming through the windows feels like a personal attack, and the dull throb in your temples only adds to the misery. You almost don’t remember everything from the night before. Almost.

The kiss. The sight of Mona kissing Scara. Heizou’s arm around your shoulder. Scara’s eyes, watching. The way you rushed to defend yourself.

You try to roll over, but everything feels off. There's this weight in your chest, a weird, almost sticky feeling in your gut that you can’t shake. The weirdness is because of him.

After dragging yourself into the living room, hoping for a bit of quiet before leaving for breakfast, your eyes find the culprit of your headache. Scara. He’s standing by the door, looking entirely too unaffected by the chaos of last night. The cool indifference he always wears is almost infuriating. You were hoping he’d be feeling just as lost as you. 

You’ve always known Scara was beautiful. It's one of the reasons you hated him. It’s why the jealousy burned so fiercely inside you for all those years. His sharp eyes and how they managed to cut through everything, the way his features seemed too perfect to be real, it always made your stomach twist. It made you question why he had to exist in your orbit at all. 

But now…now, as you watch him, you feel that old jealousy resurfacing. But this time, it doesn’t feel the same. It feels different. 

Maybe it was never jealousy at all. The thought makes your heart skip, and before you know it, you’re staring at him.

Your gaze lingers for too long because all of a sudden he looks back at you. His usual detached expression softens for a split second, and you swear a flicker of something crosses his face. A jolt runs through your spine. Heat floods your face. You can’t help it. It’s like you’ve forgotten how to speak.

Remember. Be flirty. Show him you don’t hate him.

"Good... good morning," you stammer.

He gives you a strange look. “Morning?” he says, before walking past you.

Thankfully, the others arrive, and the group starts moving toward breakfast, leaving you in the dust. Your eyes flicker back to Scara briefly, but you immediately look away again, hoping your face isn’t burning as much as it feels. Lumine, who must’ve noticed your awkwardness, grabs your arm and pulls you back. 

"Okay, that could’ve gone better," Lumine starts, voice light but teasing, "I thought you liked him? Why were you glaring at him like that?"

You freeze, mortified. “Not so loud!” you hiss, wincing at the noise in your head. “I wasn’t glaring. I was just… staring. I tried being nice.”

Lumine raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Right. Just staring like you wanted to murder him. I thought you were going to flirt?”

You groan internally, the embarrassment already creeping up.

“That was my attempt,” you say weakly.

Venti, trailing behind, chimes in unhelpfully. “You’re hopeless, Yn. How did Xiao’s awkward ass get a man before you did?”

Xiao, walking beside you, frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

Venti flashes a mischievous grin. “I mean, come on. He can barely string a sentence together, and yet, here we are... take some notes, Yn.”

Xiao crosses his arms, scowling, but you roll your eyes, tuning out the back-and-forth. There’s something heavier on your mind.

"I know I’m awkward," you mutter, glancing down at your shoes. "But I don’t think there’s any point in flirting with him. He doesn’t like me, and honestly, I’m just hoping this feeling… goes away."

Lumine gives you a sympathetic look. 

“Even if that were true, there’s no harm in trying,” she points out, her voice gentle but firm. She doesn’t press further, though. Instead, the group continues toward the kitchen, the chatter from the other group filling the silence.

As you enter the kitchen, you scan the room. Mona’s already there, looking completely at ease, her eyes bright and unbothered. It’s a little strange, considering she was absolutely hammered out of her mind last night. You glance at Heizou too and he greets you with a smile, but there's a tiredness in his eyes that makes you pause for a moment. His usual carefree demeanor seems worn.

Because of you.

Before you can speak, a voice pipes up from underneath the table. It’s Yae’s voice, muffled but chipper, and she sounds far too cheerful for the morning after what was a particularly chaotic night. 

Childe, who was sitting from where she popped up shrieks and practically jumps from his chair. “Don’t do that!”

Yae ignores him, her voice still carrying across the room. "Guess what I just heard? Apparently, last night, Scara and Mona kissed!"

You freeze. Your stomach does a strange flip. Your eyes instinctively snap to Mona, who is sitting across from you. Her face pales as she blinks at Yae in confusion. “We what?!” she exclaims, her tone high with disbelief.

Meanwhile, Scara, who’d been silently sipping coffee, seems to shrink into his seat, his usual stoic mask barely holding up under the weight of the accusation. He looks like he wants to disappear into the floor.

“There was no ‘we,’” Scara mutters, his voice sharp with irritation. “She kissed me. I’m not an asshole to take advantage of a drunk girl.”

Mona slaps a hand to her forehead, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face flushed crimson.

You thought you were done with this, but hearing it said aloud still manages to send a strange ripple through your chest. You knew the kiss hadn’t meant anything, especially with Scara’s angry words from last night. It stings, even though you tell yourself it shouldn’t.

Your eyes move back to Scara. His usual guarded expression is there, but you can see the frustration beneath it. He’s trying to act unaffected, but it’s clear that he’s anything but. You wonder if that’s how you’ve always made him feel. Unreachable.

But Mona’s outburst fades, and the silence that follows feels heavier than it should. You catch Scara’s eye again, and this time, you don’t look away. Neither does he. For a moment, he raises a brow at you, and you swear his lips curve ever so slightly.

“Well, that drama was short-lived,” Yae says, breaking the tension. “Can we milk it any further, or are we done here? What about you, Heizou?”

Heizou, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, speaks up. “We actually discussed how Yn holds no feelings for me.”

Yae sighs dramatically. “Why did we bring you three here, then?”

Diluc, who’s been quietly watching, finally speaks up. “I’m having a swell time.”

“Fuck, finally,” Yae huffs, rolling her eyes. “Alright, whatever. We’ve got another activity, and I’m sure it’ll land you all a place in Paradise.”

“Is this one rigged?” Aether pipes up.

“A little,” Yae grins. “I’ll reveal it at the end. Anyway, we’re doing a Scavenger Hunt! Pairs, but since we’ve got an odd number... Heizou, you’re going solo.”

You wince at that, already guilty for rejecting Heizou’s advances all this time.

“You each get an item to collect. Shells, flowers, rocks, etcetera. Nothing too athletic. Go out and explore, and bring back as much as you can,” Yae continues, casually ignoring the obvious tension.

“But you assigned us flowers,” Scara interrupts, “All the flowers are in the woods.”

“Yes, and?” Yae smiles, unbothered.

“And the woods are up in that mountain,” Scara points out, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You want us to climb that?”

Yae simply smiles.

“I don’t like you,” Scara grumbles.

“I love you, too,” Yae laughs. “Moving on, we’ll meet back before lunchtime! Get going!”

୨୧✧

You get paired with Scaramouche, obviously, but unlike the other times you don’t find yourself too mad about it. You both knew no matter how good or bad you did at the game they’d rig it around you both, so you take your time making your way up the trail. Or what you both assumed to be a trail.

You both stood at the foot of the raging path ahead of you, mentally preparing yourselves to walk up it. Scara digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out a handful of gummies.

“I didn’t take you for a sweet tooth,” you murmur.

He scoffs, grabbing your hand with his free one and letting a few fall onto your skin. You try, and fail, to ignore the warmth of his skin upon yours.

“It’s not candy,” he says, walking ahead of you. You stare at the not candy in your palms and then at his retreating back before throwing them back. Anything to help the swirling pit in your stomach.

You don’t talk much. The silence stretches between you, both of you awkward in your own way. You’re searching for something interesting to say, but the words won’t come.

It’s not until you reach a fallen tree that Scara climbs over and reaches a hand out to you.

“Careful,” he says simply.

You take his hand, letting him pull you over, but as you do, your foot catches on a branch. You find yourself pressed against his chest, and for a moment, neither of you moves. He doesn’t pull away until you shift, pulling yourself off him.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, already embarrassed, but then his fingers brush against your cheek.

“You’ve got dirt on you,” he says, his tone surprisingly soft. “Walk slowly.”

Your cheeks burn as you watch him walk ahead, hoping the shade of the trees is doing a better job than your body at hiding the blush creeping up your neck.

Eventually, you both come across a small meadow filled with flowers. You kneel down, picking a few, letting the petals twirl in your fingers. You hear a rustling beside you, and when you look up, Scara is crouched next to you, holding a flower in his hand. 

“Here,” he hums, and before you can say anything, he tucks it behind your ear. A gust of wind carries the petals, some of them landing in his hair, and for a moment, the sight takes your breath away.

“I didn’t think sunflowers grew here,” he mutters, pulling the petals from his hair.

“Leave it,” you say, almost breathless. “It’s pretty.”

He stares at you for a long second, his eyes unreadable and a fistful of petals in his hands. He ‘s silent before he lets the petals fall into your hair. “Have them,” he says, his voice low. “They’re like you, anyway.”

You blink, unsure what to say.

“How?” you manage to ask, voice shaking slightly.

Scara eyes you for a beat before answering.

“You follow the sun,” he says, standing up and brushing off his pants. “And people can’t seem to get enough of you.”

He doesn’t look back as he speaks, his gaze fixed ahead. After a beat, he adds, almost offhandedly, “Sunflowers aren’t too bad to look at, either.”

You’re left standing there, watching him walk away, his words hanging in the air like a soft, lingering echo.

Maybe you weren’t a sunflower. Maybe you were a cherry blossom instead. Cherry blossoms fall at five centimeters per second, and you’ve been

falling

…falling

……falling

since the day you met him. Even if there wasn’t any gravity on Earth, you’d probably fall for him eleven times out of ten.

୨୧✧

You both reach the peak, breathless. Neither of you were exactly built for this. “Rock,” you manage to say, sinking onto it before Scara can even respond. The sweat trickling down your neck probably isn’t doing your attempt at flirting any favors.

He sits down beside you, letting the flowers you picked tumble to the ground. The sun filters through the trees, but you still get a decent view of the ocean. You glance to your left. Scara’s staring at it, the wind ruffling his hair.

Your head spins, but you can’t tell if it’s from the lack of oxygen or because of him. “Sorry about your mom,” you say, trying to break the silence. It’s also a way to make up for not checking in on him last night. You never did see if he was okay. You probably should’ve. He chuckles softly, the sound surprising in its warmth.

“Not your fault.” You fall quiet after that, the words you want to say stuck somewhere in your throat. “Just spit it out,” he says, leaning back on the rock, eyes still on the horizon. He always knows when you’re holding back. “If your mom hadn’t paid Mona off, would you have kept dating her?” you ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it. You expect him to scoff or brush you off, like he usually would. But his answer comes quickly

“It wouldn’t have lasted anyway,” he says, voice low. He picks a flower from your discarded bouquet and twirls it between his fingers. “We weren’t suited for each other. She hated how much I focused on work, and said I was too much. I just wish she’d broken up with me herself, though.” You nod, his words strangely comforting. “Besides,” he adds casually, “All we ever did was have hate sex.” You choke on a surprised laugh, coughing at the suddenness of it. And then…he laughs. Actually fucking laughs. The sound is so rare, you find yourself wanting to drown in it. “Prude,” he teases, watching you with a sly grin. You compose yourself, shooting him a glare. “Not a prude.” “I beg to differ.” You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. Another question bubbles up, one you can’t resist asking. “Was she your first?” He’s silent for a beat, then answers with a firm, “Nope.” “Was she your only?” He glances at you, brows raised. “Why do you care?” Because you like him. Maybe it’s something a little more than that. Something you haven’t dared to admit to yourself yet. The answer is right there on your tongue, but you swallow it down.

 “Just being nosey,” you say, trying to brush it off. “Didn’t think you could pull anyone else.”

He shrugs, nonchalant. “She wasn’t. But after her, I stopped having casual sex.”

You scoff. “But I heard you’ve hooked up with half the industry?”

“What tabloid did you read that in?” he smirks. “You know there’s shit other than sex, right? Or do I need to give you sex ed?”

His words hang in the air, the implication making your cheeks flush with heat. You must’ve looked taken aback, because he doesn’t hesitate to press on.

“Half of them were just blowjobs backstage.”

You choke from his words again.

“God, you are a prude.”

“Shut up,” you muster out before continuing, “Don’t you miss it? I thought you liked…sex?” 

His smirk is there before you even have a chance to respond. “Well, yeah. Who doesn’t?”

You stop, unsure why you even care enough to ask. Well, you were pretty sure. You’d thought he’d just shut you out.

“What, spit it out,” He presses, and you almost want to avoid his gaze, but you can’t.

“Wouldn’t someone like you get...?” you murmur, barely above a whisper, feeling the heat rising in your neck.

He stared at you. Then he shifts, almost as if to tease.

“Do I need to explain to you what self pleasure is? Ever heard of mastur–.”

“Shut up!” You cut him off, shoving his shoulder, your heart pounding in your ears. But he just smiles, grins, really. And you can’t help but notice how that smile hits you harder than it should. 

How had you gone so long without seeing it?

By the time you and Scaramouche make it back down, your heads are clearer, and the afternoon sun is already at its peak. Lunchtime. Scanning the scene, you both realize you’ve managed to collect more of the required items than anyone else.

“We got distracted,” Venti mutters, holding up the single, sad shell he and Aether managed to gather.

“It’s no matter,” Yae waves him off with a dismissive flick of her hand. “This whole thing was rigged anyway.”

Lumine, ever observant, scans the group. “Aren’t we missing a few people?”

“Oh right, I completely forgot,” Yae laughs lightly, tapping her chin. “Heizou and Mona took off while you were all busy with the game.”

You’re a little taken aback by the news. You’d been hoping to talk to Heizou again before he left, but now... you’re not so sure. Maybe it’s better left unsaid. You’ve probably hurt him enough as it is.

Scaramouche’s reaction to his ex leaving couldn’t be more different.

“Thank the Archons,” he mutters, clasping his hands together in exaggerated relief, causing Kazuha to shoot him a bemused side-eye.

“Anyway,” Yae interrupts, snapping the group’s attention back to her, “Back to the show. Let’s see the results.” She glances around at the gathered group, raising an eyebrow. “Good grief, did any of you actually try? The one couple we rigged was the one that won.”

Xiao speaks up dryly. “You told us to collect rocks.”

“Yeah, and those,” Yae hums, tapping her chin and gesturing toward the small pebbles in Kazuha’s palms, “Are definitely not rocks. Never mind that, though.” She raises her voice slightly, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “The pair who collected the least will be spending the night on this island, while the rest of you get to go to Paradise.”

She feigns a gasp, dramatically sweeping her gaze across the group. “Congratulations to everyone except Scaramouche and Yn! You two will be spending the night here on this hell island, while the rest of us head to Paradise... including the crew!”

The others around you celebrate, but your thoughts are elsewhere.

Tonight, everyone will be gone.

And it will just be you and him.

Alone.

[00:00:00] GOODBYE INTERVIEW ONE 

YAE: So, how does it feel to go home empty handed?

HEIZOU: Honestly, I got the closure I needed.

YAE: But not the lover you wanted?

JEAN: YAE!

YAE: Sorry, sorry!

HEIZOU: [LAUGHS] It’s alright. I get it. But yeah. 

YAE: Anything you would’ve done differently?

HEIZOU: [QUIET FOR A FEW MOMENTS] Probably have gotten to know Yn a bit more. I would’ve saved a lot of money on snacks they didn’t actually like.

YAE: What a gentleman! Great send off. We’ll miss you, Heizou!

HEIZOU: [SMILES] I’m sure you will, bye.

YAE: And cut!

[00:32:10] GOODBYE INTERVIEW TWO 

YAE: So…how are we feeling girl?

MONA: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU GUYS LET ME GET SHITFACED ON TV!

YAE: [LAUGHS] It made for great television, how are you feeling?

MONA: So embarrassed. But I’m glad I came and put on a show. Any publicity is good publicity.

YAE: And what about the ex you left on that island? Any regrets about him?

MONA: Oh believe me, a lot. But, I shall just carry on with my life! I’ve embarrassed myself enough on this hell island.

YAE: [LAUGHS] Fair enough. Any jealous feelings towards anyone else on the island?

MONA: [ROLLS EYES] You know what you’re doing. I’ve lost enough fans from trying to kiss Scara. I’ll say no comment.

YAE: Well, I tried folks. Goodbye, Mona!

MONA: Mwah!

YAE: CUT!

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

me googling where sunflowers and cherry blossoms grow and then realizing it isn’t that deep so just pretend for me okay thanks

scara taking an edible to try and flirt he’s so real

peep the lyrics in scaras story like YN OPEN UR EYES but yeah at this point yn is coming to realize scara might like them back 🤭

kinda insecure about this chapter so pls lmk if u liked 😣 pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed i need motivation 🤗

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

notes — i’ve gotten like 8 hours of sleep in total last week i’m lowk goin thru it guys i hate college 😭 pls send me asks about swy or anything i need motivation i’m bashing my head into da wall as we speak

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

taglist — (closed) @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse

[roanniom]

Couldn't Wait

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, piv

When you come home from your girls night out, you had expected to find your boyfriend on the couch watching a horror movie or reading a comic book. You hadn't expected to find him waiting to pounce the minute you walked in the door.

"What has gotten into you, Eddie Bear?" you ask with a laugh, kicking off your heels so he can pull you down onto the couch with him.

"I need you, baby. Need you right now." His voice is rough between kisses delivered to your neck and cheeks and collar bone.

"Ok just let me change out of these clothes real quick -,"

“C’mon honey please, ‘m so fucking hard, jus’ look.”

He’s right. His cock is standing at attention in his sweatpants, clearly aching and reaching out for you. He drops a hand to his lap and palms himself slowly.

“Fuck, baby. Please. Need that tight little pussy. Let me have it.”

Your eyes widen taking in the state of him.

"Eddie Munson, what has gotten you so worked up that you could barely wait for me to get back?"

Eddie's gaze shifts away from you sheepishly over to the coffee table. Before he can stop you, you reach for the thing he'd glanced at - a polaroid of you. On your back in your shared bed. Naked and blissed out with a tattooed arm reaching in from the bottom of frame to rest a hand in the space between your legs.

"Oh," you say simply, a small smile forming on your lips.

"Baby, I'm fucking aching for you."

You play with one of his curls and pretend to consider it.

"Why didn't you just take care of yourself while I was gone?" you ask. "I wouldn't have minded."

"You think I would deprive myself of a goddess in favor of my own shitty hand? Babe. Be serious."

Eddie's eyelids are heavy and his chest rises and falls a little more rapidly the more he gets worked up. You drop your palm to it and let it slide down the plane of his torso, down his abdomen, and into his lap.

"Alright. We can be serious." You wrap your hand around his length through his pants in earnest. Eddie intakes breath sharply.

"Yes. Yes yes yes."

Your clothes on the floor in a matter of seconds, Eddie replacing the cups of your bra with his hands.

"Ahhh finally," Eddie says with the gusto of a man having his first drink of water after a long thirst. All you're doing is grinding down on him, working yourself up to reach his level. But the look on Eddie's face implies he's reached nirvana.

"You wanted me that bad, huh?" you tease, a bit more breathlessly.

"More than a blind man wants to see the sun," Eddie says reverently into your cleavage.

"Well that's an exaggeration," you chuckle. You can't press it, however, because Eddie begins pressing his finger on your clit through your underwear. After a few minutes you find yourself writhing above him.

After a particularly loud moan from you, Eddie grins.

"Speaking of exaggeration..."

"Oh shut up and fuck me, Munson," you smack his shoulder and climb off him to divest yourself of your final scrap of clothing.

"With pleasure. princess." Eddie gives you a salute before chucking off the rest of his clothes as well.

Before you can ask him how he wants you, however, you're twirled around to face away from him, his hand on the back of your neck, guiding you to kneel on the couch.

"That's it, baby," Eddie practically purrs. He lines his tip up with your dripping center, but instead of immediately sheathing himself inside of you, he swipes from your core down to your clit.

"Fucking tease," you complain, wiggling your hips to entice him forward. After all of his pleading and cajoling he was still making you wait. A swift slap to your ass makes you squeal.

"Takes one to know one."

When he finally does slide inside of you, you realize he's right. You'd rather this - a quick fuck in the dark of night with your lover - than seeing the sun.

~*~

I hope you enjoyed!

[luvismenu]

Only When It's Us — JJK

you can’t wait to show your boyfriend the lingerie you bought — kinda nsfw

— drabble based on this ask !!

wc: 2.4k+

note: i’m so sorry it took me this long 🥲 but yay, it’s finally here!! wanted to keep this a little shorter, like 1.5k-ish words but i js couldn't help myself write a little more hehe— enjoy the silly, sexy moments <3 check the ask for warnings if you need them lolol love all of my owiu readers out there !! 🤍

ever since you started dating jungkook, life has felt... lighter.

it’s not that the stress is gone, there are still challenges ahead of you, but one thing that keeps you grounded is knowing your boyfriend will always be there for you.

like today, when he insisted on taking you out because you’ve been working so hard lately.

you’re out with jungkook and a group of your friends; yoongi, jimin, taehyung and his girlfriend hina, and jin with his wife da-eun. these are the people you’ve grown close to, thanks to jungkook encouraging you to meet them. you didn’t have many friends before, but now you do who you're thankful for.

and you’re especially grateful for hina and da-eun. hina, the same age as you, is a bundle of energy, while da-eun, a few years older, is a calming presence. even tho they're different than you, they still, just.. get you.

the day started at a museum; jin and yoongi’s idea. it was calm and peaceful, exactly what you needed.

jungkook stayed by your side the whole time, his arm draped around your shoulders or your waist, leaning in to whisper sweet things to you. and okay, maybe he sneaked you into an empty storage room for a heated makeout session, but that’s beside the point.

it was still peaceful.

next came the arcade, a suggestion from jimin and taehyung. while the guys, especially jungkook, went wild with the games, you and the others enjoyed watching. yoongi’s consistent losing streak provided endless laughs, and the chaos turned into pure fun.

when jungkook noticed that the guys had been dominating the day’s plans, he suggested letting the women choose the next stop. naturally, hina, da-eun, and you all agreed on shopping, much to the guys’ amused groans.

now, you’re at the mall, wandering through the shops. the energy of the place, with its bright displays and bustling crowd, somehow lifts your spirits.

“i literally don’t want anything,” jimin says, stifling a yawn.

“i might grab something,” taehyung adds, his eyes darting to the plushie section. you can’t help but think it’s for hina. she told you loves collecting them, even showed you her collection.

you, on the other hand, have just one plushie from childhood, but you get the appeal. plushies are adorable.

“i really wanna buy some cute clothes!” hina exclaims, her excitement contagious as taehyung pulls her close with a chuckle.

“me too,” da-eun says with a smile, glancing at jin, who nods in agreement.

“what about you, babe?” jungkook asks, looking down at you with that soft gaze of his.

“me three!” you grin, and the group laughs.

“well, let’s head to the women’s section i gues—” jimin begins, but hina cuts him off sharply.

“men are not allowed.”

the guys blink in confusion.

“huh?” they say in unison.

“why can’t we come? it’s just a clothes section,” taehyung protests, crossing his arms.

“because we’re having girls’ time, right?” hina says, looking to you and da-eun for backup.

“absolutely,” da-eun replies without hesitation.

you nod with a smile.

“but i thought i could help pick something for—” jungkook starts, his hand still on your waist, but da-eun interrupts him.

“girls’ time!” she declares, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards her. jungkook is left standing there, sulking like a kid whose toy has been taken away.

“i’m okay with that,” yoongi says, almost like a deadpan. “plus, i need to sit down. my legs are killing me.”

“same here. you girls enjoy,” jin adds, planting a kiss on da-eun’s forehead.

“all right, grandpas, let’s find you a bench,” jimin says with an eye roll, leading yoongi and jin away. taehyung pauses to kiss hina on the cheek and whispering ‘have fun’ before following them.

jungkook stays rooted in place, looking like he’s waiting for something.

you cup his face in your hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “see you later, babe.”

he pouts, his bottom lip jutting out just a bit, and you chuckle before turning to join the girls. behind you, jungkook slowly trails after the guys, shaking his head with a smile.

now it’s just you, hina, and da-eun in the women’s section, sifting through racks of clothes and chatting about everything.

“i am so glad we can take our time now and let the boys wait. i don’t even like museums,” hina huffs, sorting through a pile of clothes alongside you and da-eun.

you and da-eun chuckle, shaking your heads.

“look, this is cute. it matches your aesthetic too!” you say, holding up a light pink mini dress.

“and it looks like it would fit you perfectly,” da-eun adds with a smile.

hina’s eyes light up as she takes the dress. “i’m gonna try this on right now!” she squeals, rushing off which makes you both smile.

you and da-eun continue browsing. she picks out a few outfits while you grab some comfy clothes and a few dresses. as you glance around, your eyes land on the lingerie section nearby.

one particular set catches your attention; a lacy, red, and very explicit set that makes your cheeks warm just thinking about it. it’s the kind of thing you’d love to wear for jungkook.

you blink, trying to shake the thought, but da-eun’s voice from behind startles you. “you should buy it.”

you flinch a little and chuckle nervously. “what? no, i was just looking.”

da-eun smiles knowingly. “do you not like it?”

you look at it again and you sigh, giving in. “i love it,” you admit.

before she can respond, hina comes bounding back with the pink dress in her hands, her face glowing. “you guys were right, it fits perfectly, and i love ittt!”

you and da-eun smile at her.

“i sent a pic to tae, and he’s already drooling.” she chuckles before continuing, “what about you, da-eun? are you gonna get that pretty, sexy dress you were looking at?” hina teases with a laugh.

“obviously!” da-eun says with a grin. then both of them turn their attention to you.

“what about you, ___?” hina asks excitedly. “did you pick anything... spicyy?”

you glance awkwardly at da-eun, who grins mischievously and subtly points hina towards the lingerie display. hina gasps dramatically, her eyes widening.

“that is so fucking hot! oh my god, you should totally get that, ___. please, please, please!” hina exclaims, practically bouncing on her toes.

you laugh, hiding your face in your hands, a little flustered.

“i’m getting that one.”

“oh my gosh, i missed food!” jimin gasps dramatically, stuffing a bite into his mouth.

the eight of you are seated in a cozy restaurant, wrapping up the day with dinner after hours of fun. the table is alive with chatter and laughter, everyone enjoying their meals. the couples sit side by side, exchanging sweet moments, which jimin predictably calls out.

“ugh, get a room, all of you!” he groans, rolling his eyes.

“honestly, yes, get a fucking room. you’re all just rubbing it in that i’m single,” yoongi adds with a dry chuckle, making everyone laugh.

you’re beside jungkook, his hand intertwined with yours under the table. his thumb lazily rubs soft circles on your skin while he chats with yoongi about something. you’re barely paying attention to their conversation because all you can think about is how ridiculously fucking good he looks right now.

he’s not even trying, just sitting there in a simple shirt and jeans, his hair slightly messy, and yet he’s got your mind wandering to... other things.

speaking of other things, you think about the clothes you bought earlier, the lingerie and a few silky nightdresses that were too beautiful to resist. the thought of showing them to him makes your heart race.

gently, you slip your hand out of his hold and place it on his thigh. his conversation falters as he glances at you, his dark eyes searching yours like he’s silently asking, ‘what’s wrong?'

you shake your head, smiling softly. his lips curve into a small, confused smile, but he goes back to talking.

you wait for the right moment, checking to make sure no one’s paying attention, and then let your hand slide a little higher.

that gets his full attention.

his gaze snaps to your hand, now dangerously close to a place you know will drive him insane. his jaw tightens, and you can see the realization in his eyes— he knows exactly what you’re doing.

leaning in, he brings his lips close to your ear, his voice low and deep. “if you keep doing that, i might have to take you home right now.”

you smile teasingly, leaning closer to whisper, “what are you talking about, jeon? i’m doing nothing.” your hand retreats, as if you’re completely innocent, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

you pick up the drink infront of you, sipping on it with a teasing smile.

he shakes his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips, but you can tell he’s trying to distract himself from the thoughts in his head— thoughts about exactly what he wants to do to you later.

. . .

soon, the evening winds down, and everyone begins saying their goodbyes.

“this was fun. we should do this more often,” taehyung says, and everyone nods in agreement.

as you’re saying goodbye to hina and da-eun, you notice the way they giggle at you, their eyes glinting with... mischief. you smile knowingly, already guessing what’s on their minds.

“what? what’s going on?” jin asks, looking at da-eun curiously.

she simply smiles at him and says, “just girlie things.”

jin frowns slightly, still confused, but lets it go with a soft laugh.

“okay then, let's go home.”

the door barely shuts behind you before jungkook has you pressed against it, his lips capturing yours in a kiss so desperate it leaves you breathless. his hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his body presses against yours.

you kiss him back with equal intensity, your hands wrapping around his neck pulling him down, but then you pull away slightly, resting your forehead against his.

“wait,” you whisper, your breathing uneven.

“wait?” his voice is low, and he looks at you like he’s already losing his patience.

you nod, smiling as you try to calm your racing heart. “i want to show you the clothes i bought today.”

he groans, throwing his head bacm dramatically. “right now?”

“you’ll like it, i promise.” you take his hand and lead him to your bedroom, pushing him gently onto the bed

“stay here,” you instruct, pointing at him before disappearing into the closet

he watches you go, running a hand through his hair, still trying to cool down.

a few moments later, you step out wearing a long, dark purple dress that hugs your body in all the right places. the fabric flows down gracefully, and the color makes your skin glow.

jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, his eyes raking over you with awe. “you look... fuck.. wow. so pretty.”

you twirl slightly, letting the fabric swish around you. “you like it?”

“baby, you look so fucking beautiful,” he breathes, sitting up straighter.

smiling, you step back into the closet and reappear moments later in another dress— this time, it’s a bit shorter, hitting just above your knees, with a soft floral design. jungkook grins, biting his lip as he watches you show it off.

“okay, this one’s cute,” he says, his eyes never leaving you.

you keep going, the dresses getting shorter and more... bold. when you step out in a sleek, silky black mini nightdress that barely reaches mid-thigh, jungkook groans, leaning back on his hands like he’s trying to restrain himself.

“you’re doing this on purpose,” he accuses, his voice low and rough, his eyes locked onto you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“what?” you ask innocently, moving a little, the skirt of your dress swishing just enough to tease him.

he watches you, his gaze following your every move, filled with love— and something much darker, much hungrier. “do a little twirl for me, baby,” he says, his voice dropping even lower.

you smirk and twirl, biting your lip when you see the way his jaw tightens.

“are you done yet?” he finally asks, his tone laced with desperation. “because if i don’t touch you soon, i might fucking lose my mind.”

you laugh softly, walking over to him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “one more, please?”

he grabs your waist in an instant, pulling you close until you’re straddling his lap, his warm hands settling on your hips. “fine,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck, “but only after you give me a kiss.”

you tilt your head down, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s soft but full of promise. after a few seconds, you pull back, grinning. “you’re gonna love this,” you whisper before slipping off his lap and disappearing into the closet again.

jungkook leans back on the bed, exhaling, trying to control himself. but when you don’t return right away, he shifts impatiently, standing up to pace the room.

when you finally walk out, he’s stops mid-step. he freezes, his eyes widening as they take you in.

you’re wearing the red lingerie set, the delicate lace barely there, with rope-like straps wrapping around your body. small red heart-shaped details covering the parts he really wants to see right now.

he stares at you, his lips parting slightly, his breath catching in his throat.

“oh.. fuck.” he mutters, his voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper.

you walk towards him slowly, swaying your hips just a little. “what do you think babe?”

he doesn’t answer right away, too busy drinking in the sight of you. when he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse. “i think i just died and went to heaven.”

you stop in front of him, chuckling softly as your fingers trailing up his chest. “i told you you’d love it.”

“you’re so fucking sexy,” he breathes, his hands coming up to rest on your hips, his grip on you firm as if he’s trying to stop himself from losing control. “c'mere”

you smile, letting him pull you closer.

“all this for me?” he asks, his voice low and raspy as his hands trail down to your ass, gripping the soft flesh in his large hands, pulling you even closer.

“all for you,” you whisper, your lips barely hovering over his, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin.

that’s all it takes for him to snap. his lips crash into yours fiercely.

and this time, there’s no holding back.

a/n: ...wish i can show yall the lingerie pic but idk if it's allowed habahabaohw

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @wombatkitten127 @minaateez @myjungkookthighs

💌 permanent taglist: @annyeongbitch7 @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @jaytheatiny @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle @rrosiitas @jjeonjjk7 @remgeolli @ty-moy-ya-tvoy @rpwprpwprpwprw

[sxcretricciardo]

I’m back… pt.3

social media au

part two here

•

f1 BREAKING: Norris and Y/L/N are out of the race ⚠️

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username1 omg they’re gonna end up killing each other

username2 damn, but it was clearly Lando’s fault

-> username3 right?? Why didn’t he leave enough space???

username4 the fact that Y/N got out of the car and almost threw hands at Lando she’s a BADASS

-> username5 she isn’t taking shit from him, go girl 🤭

-> username6 as she SHOULD

username7 Oscar asking on the radio if she was okay before asking about his OWN teammate 👀

•

real life

The post-race chaos was a blur as you stormed into the McLaren garage, your pulse hammering in your ears. Every muscle in your body was tense, your mind replaying the sickening crunch of metal and the stomach-lurching spin off the track. The collision with Lando had been entirely avoidable, and you knew it.

Lando was sitting on a workbench, still in his race suit, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. When he looked up and saw you, his jaw clenched. He set his water bottle down, clearly bracing himself for what was coming.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Lando?” you spat, your voice sharp enough to cut glass.

He stood, matching your intensity. “Don’t start with me, Y/N. You were just as much at fault.”

“Don’t you dare try to put this on me!” you snapped, stepping closer. “I gave you enough room! You turned in on me like you wanted to take us both out!”

His eyes flared with anger, but he didn’t respond right away, and that silence was all the confirmation you needed.

“This wasn’t just a racing incident,” you pressed, your voice shaking with fury. “That was personal. What were you thinking, huh? That you’d knock some sense into me? Scare me? Or were you just trying to hurt me because you still can’t stand the fact that I walked away from you?”

“Stop,” he said, his voice low but warning.

“No, I won’t stop!” you shouted. “You’ve been acting like this ever since I left you—since I finally decided I deserved better than someone who cheats!”

The words hung in the air between you like a live wire, and you saw the flicker of guilt cross his face before he masked it with anger.

“Don’t bring that up again,” he said tightly, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it?” you shot back. “You ruined us, Lando. You did. And now you’re trying to ruin me on the track, too?”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t like that out there.”

“Then what was it like?” you demanded, your voice shaking. “Because from where I’m standing, it looked like you were trying to prove a point.”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he muttered.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you said bitterly.

Lando looked up at you, his expression cracking just enough for you to see the regret underneath. “I lost my head, okay? Seeing you… seeing you so happy, like none of it even mattered—it got to me.”

You stared at him, disbelief flooding through you. “So you risked my safety—our safety—because you’re jealous? Because you can’t stand the fact that I’ve moved on?”

“Maybe I can’t,” he admitted, his voice quiet but raw. “Maybe I hate seeing you with them—watching you smile at other guys like you used to smile at me. Do you know how hard it is to see that and know it’s my fault? That I’m the one who screwed it up?”

Your breath caught, his confession hitting you like a punch to the gut. But it didn’t soften your anger. If anything, it made it worse.

“You don’t get to play the victim here, Lando,” you said coldly. “You made your choice. You cheated. And I walked away because I deserve better than someone who couldn’t even respect me.”

His shoulders sagged, the weight of your words clearly hitting him, but you weren’t done.

“And now? Now you’re letting your jealousy and regret turn into something dangerous. You could’ve ended my career out there today. Or worse.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

“Sorry isn’t enough,” you replied, stepping back. “I’ve moved on, Lando. Maybe it’s time you try to do the same.”

He didn’t say anything as you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there in the quiet of the garage. But as you stepped out into the paddock, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over—that whatever unresolved emotions still lingered between you would find a way to surface again.

•

yourusername not the result I wanted for this weekend… but I’ll keep pushing to get back those lost points! See you next weekend 💪🏻🫶🏻

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username1 clearly not your fault! That penalty was well given to Lando!

fernandoalo_oficial you got this chica 💪🏻

alex_albon let’s go! glad you’re not hurt

username2 get it girl!! 😍

oscarpiastri 💪🏻

username3 the next dts season is gonna be INSANE I can’t wait 🤭

•

real life

The day had been long and emotionally exhausting. After your fight with Lando, you had barely made it through the mandatory media debriefs without snapping at someone. Now, standing in the paddock under the setting sun, you were relieved that the weekend was finally over.

“Rough day, huh?” Fernando’s familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

You turned to find your teammate leaning casually against the wall, his helmet bag slung over one shoulder. Despite the chaos of the day, Fernando always seemed composed, a stark contrast to your current state.

“That’s putting it mildly,” you replied, managing a weak smile.

He nodded knowingly, then tilted his head slightly. “I heard you’re heading to the Aston Martin headquarters tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Have to go over some data with the engineers.”

“Same here,” he said, his tone casual. “Why don’t you skip the hassle of a commercial flight and ride with me? My jet’s leaving in an hour.”

The offer caught you off guard, but it also sounded like the perfect way to escape the mess of today. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Fernando said with a small smile. “It’ll be nice to have some company.”

An hour later, you were seated across from Fernando on his private jet, a glass of wine in hand. The plush interior and quiet hum of the engines felt like a world away from the chaos of the paddock.

“To surviving another race weekend,” Fernando said, raising his glass with a smirk.

You chuckled, clinking your glass against his. “Barely.”

As the jet cruised through the night sky, the wine kept flowing, and so did the conversation. Fernando was surprisingly easy to talk to, his sharp wit and dry humor making you laugh more than you had all weekend. You found yourself relaxing in his company, the tension from earlier slowly melting away.

But somewhere between the second and third glass, the atmosphere began to shift. His gaze lingered a little too long, and your laughs turned into soft smiles. You couldn’t ignore the way his voice dipped when he said your name, or the way his hand brushed yours when he reached for the bottle.

It was reckless, you knew that, but when he leaned closer, his dark eyes searching yours for permission, you didn’t stop him. His lips were on yours before you could think, the kiss slow and deliberate, leaving no room for doubt about what he wanted.

One thing led to another, and soon you found yourself tangled in the sheets of the jet’s private cabin. It was a blur of heated whispers, soft gasps, and the kind of passion you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Afterward, as you lay beside him, reality began to sink in. You sat up, pulling the blanket around you, your mind racing.

“This can’t happen again,” you said, your voice firm despite the lingering warmth of his touch.

Fernando propped himself up on one elbow, his expression unreadable. “I know,” he said simply.

“I mean it, Fernando,” you pressed, turning to face him. “We’re teammates. This… this could complicate everything. It was a mistake.”

He studied you for a moment, then nodded. “I get it. One time, no strings.”

His calm response surprised you. You had expected more pushback, maybe even an argument, but his easy acceptance only reinforced why you had always respected him.

“Nothing changes between us,” he added, his voice steady. “We’re still teammates. Still focused on the team. This doesn’t leave this jet.”

You exhaled in relief, appreciating his maturity. “Thank you.”

Fernando gave you a small smile, his hand brushing against yours briefly. “Get some rest. We’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

As you settled back into the seat, your thoughts swirled. You told yourself it was a one-time lapse in judgment, a fleeting moment of weakness.

•

yourusername alexa play “kill bill” by SZA 🔪

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oscarpiastri I hope you liked the cake

-> yourusername you spoil me too much, pastry🥐

-> georgerussel63 you’ve never sent me cake, I’m jealous oscarpiastri

-> yourusername come get your man carmenmmundt 😴

username1 omg Oscar sent her the cake?? What am I missing???

-> username2 RIGHT?? her dating her ex’s teammate would be an amazing revenge 😭

username3 the caption 💀

•

thatf1podcast here’s a sneak peek of our episode with the one and only Y/N Y/L/N 👀

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username1 I need all the teaaaaa 😏

yourusername it was a pleasure 🤭

username2 I NEED THIS EPISODE NOW

username3 I’m loving it 😌

•

tag list: @samantharaytanner @stressed-cherry @anamiad00msday @book-obsesseds-world @hurtblossom @tagteamedbitch @hoeforsirius @jxnellat @tillyt04 @danielshoe @tvdtw4ever @raynetargaryan2 @sadiemack9 @henna006 @wordesthatics @whosluce @mikaalvesreal @widow-cevans @honethatty12 @littlegrapejuice @bakingpiastries @ietss

- part 4 coming soon

[rosinaparker]

Hi! Hope you’re doing okay :) I was wondering if I could request Izuku being a simp, bending over backwards for whatever his (future) girlfriend wants, (she doesn’t know that), and finally he gets a push (literally) from Bakugo and he confesses his love for reader and happy ending- thank youu

“You have me wrapped around your finger”

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Izuku x Reader

Warnings: none

a/n: hii sorry that we're getting to yalls requests so late...this was one ended up being a bit sloppy excuse me for that😔🙏-Rose✩

Izuku Midoriya was known for a lot of things: being quirkless once upon a time, inheriting the power of the greatest hero in history, and muttering until his face turned red. But above all else, Izuku Midoriya was a certified simp. For you.

It wasn’t something you’d notice unless you paid close attention, which you didn’t. Not really. To you, Izuku was just your kind and reliable friend who always seemed to go above and beyond without you even asking. But to anyone else—like his classmates—it was blatantly obvious.

When you mentioned your favorite brand of tea during lunch one time? It magically appeared in his grocery bag later that week, tucked neatly next to his protein bars. If you complained about a sore shoulder after training, Izuku would “happen to have” a heating pad in his room and deliver it to you like some kind of awkward but adorable hero.

And when you asked him for little favors, he made them his entire personality.

“Midoriya, could you pick up my notebook from class? I left it on my desk.”

“Y-yeah! Of course!” he stammered, darting off at full speed like you’d just asked him to retrieve the Holy Grail.

You thought he was just sweet and thoughtful. Everyone else? They thought he was pathetic.

It wasn’t like Izuku wanted to be pathetic. It wasn’t like he woke up every morning thinking, How can I make myself look like more of a doormat today? No, he was just hopelessly in love with you and had no idea how to tell you without combusting on the spot. So instead, he did everything in his power to make your life easier—thinking maybe, just maybe, you’d notice one day.

today you had a grueling training session. You’d just finished sparring with Uraraka, looking exhausted but still smiling as you wiped sweat from your forehead. “Man, I’m wiped,” you said, turning to Izuku with a tired grin. “Think you could grab me a water bottle from the vending machine?”

“Yeah! Right away!” Izuku’s voice cracked as he sprinted off, already pulling out his wallet.

Bakugo stood nearby, watching the whole interaction with a look of pure disdain. When Izuku returned, practically tripping over himself to hand you the water bottle, Bakugo couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re pathetic, Deku,” he sneered, stomping up to them like a storm cloud.

Izuku blinked, confused and panicked. “K-Kacchan, what are you—”

“What the hell are you doing, huh?” Bakugo barked, shoving Izuku in the chest. “Carrying her bags, fetching her water, running around like her damn servant—what are you, her personal butler now?”

Your eyes widened. “Dude chill—”

“Shut up, I’m not talking to you!” Bakugo snapped, shooting you a sharp glare before turning back to Izuku. “When are you gonna grow a spine, huh? You think doing all this crap is gonna make her like you? That she’s just gonna magically figure out you’re in love with her? You’re so damn pathetic it’s embarrassing!”

“Kacchan, stop!” Izuku tried to protest, his face bright red and his hands shaking. “It’s not—” Bakugo didn’t let him finish. With one sharp shove to the chest, he sent Izuku stumbling forward—straight into you.

“Bakugo, what the hell—!” you shouted, barely catching Izuku before he toppled over. Your hands gripped his arms tightly, steadying him as he stared at you with wide, panicked eyes.

“Go on, say it!” Bakugo barked, ignoring you completely. “Tell her, or I’ll knock it out of you myself!”

Izuku froze, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. You frowned, your hands still on his arms. “Tell me what? What’s he talking about, Izuku?”

The green haired boy swallowed hard, his mouth dry as he stared into your curious, worried eyes. He couldn’t keep running, couldn’t keep hiding behind excuses and small gestures. Not anymore.

“I like you!” he blurted, squeezing his eyes shut as the words tumbled out of him. “I’ve liked you for a long time, and I know I probably don’t deserve someone like you, but I just wanted to make you happy, and—”

“Midoriya,” you interrupted softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. His eyes flew open, his breath hitching as he looked at you.

“You really like me?” you asked, your voice gentle but serious.

“I do,” he whispered. “So much.”

Your lips curved into a small smile. “Good. Because I like you too.”

For a moment, Izuku forgot how to breathe. “Y-you do?”

You laughed, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his. “Yes, you idiot.”

Behind you, Bakugo rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out. “Finally. You two are so sickening it makes me want to puke.”

Neither of you paid him any mind. For once, Izuku didn’t care what Bakugo thought. Because you liked him back—and that was all that mattered.

[sinnabarmoth]

Under the Weather

Pairing: Sylus x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Rafayel) (Xavier) (Zayne)

“Miss! You have to come over right away! He won’t listen to anyone else we fear. Please come as soon as you can!” Was the message that Luke and Kieran had left on your phone. Panicked that Sylus was doing something stupid and reckless, even for him, you sped over to the N109 zone as fast as you could.

You pulled up to the mansion and rushed inside. “Luke, Kieran, what is it? What’s going on with Sylus?”

“He’s back in his bedroom,” Luke said, “He won’t let us in.”

“But what happened?”

“You just need to see for yourself. Please, you’re our only hope.” Kieran ushered you back to Sylus’s bedroom.

You were scared about what you may end up finding on the other side of that door. Whatever Sylus was doing that had the twins this concerned couldn’t be good. You took a deep breath and knocked. “Sylus? Are you in there?”

“Go away.” he called through the door but he didn’t sound right.

“Not a chance, babe.” you opened the door but didn’t immediately see him. “Sylus?”

“I said to go away.” you turned toward the bathroom and found your boyfriend sitting on the floor, his face pressed against the seat of the toilet. When he saw you he groaned. “I told them not to call you.”

“Are you…are you sick?” you knelt down next to him and felt his forehead. “Oh god, Sylus, you’re burning up.”

“It’s just a cold. I’m fine.”

“Uh huh, just a cold. That’s why you’re in here hovering over the toilet.” you rolled your eyes. “Have you even taken any medicine?”

His frown deepened. “For the love of--” you stood up and rifled through his cabinets and pulled out some fever and flu medicine. “Take these.” you put the pills in his hand and got him a cup of water. “Drink.”

He must not have had the energy to fight you because he did as you commanded without even a little pushback. Any other time he was such a brat. This fever must be really hard on him. “Keep drinking, we don’t need you getting dehydrated.” you kept the cup to his lips, not stopping until he had drank everything.

“Thank you. I’ll be fine now.” he said.

“If you think you’re getting rid of me that easily you are sorely mistaken.” you grabbed a small hand towel and soaked it in cold water. You pressed it against his burning face and you saw the way he sighed in relief. “Honestly, I’m kind of surprised you can even get sick.”

“I’m just full of surprises.” he sighed. For someone who was already pale he looked positively pallid now.

“Come on, let’s get you to the bed.” you helped pull him to his feet, taking it slow so his legs didn’t give out underneath him. As gently as you could you set him back down on the bed and pressed the cool towel to his forehead. You then grabbed a trash can and set it next to the bed just in case he had to puke.

“My poor guy,” you grabbed another towel and started wiping away the sweat on his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”

“I was handling it.” he said.

“Very poorly. If you weren’t already sick I’d punish you for taking such poor care of yourself.” you sat next to him on the bed. “You don’t need to be embarrassed about needing help, Sylus. If I was sick and I tried to hide it from you, how would you react?”

He closed his eyes. “I’d say you were an idiot.”

“Exactly. And now, I don’t want to have to take advantage of a sick person but desperate times call for desperate measures. Until you are feeling well again I am in charge of you. Understood?”

A breath of a chuckle left him. “Yes, kitten.”

“Good. Have you tried eating anything yet today?”

“Been a bit preoccupied.”

“Got it. Be right back.” you went out to the kitchen and started rifling through the cabinets, finding some instant oatmeal and bananas. You assured Luke and Kieran that you had Sylus well in hand and that they didn’t need to worry about him. They both looked relieved. They cared about their boss so much, it was cute.

You also quickly brewed some tea and brought the tray of food back to his room. “This should be easy enough on your stomach.” you set the tray down on the bed and spooned some oatmeal up. “Open.”

“Feeding me now?”

“If you want to do it yourself--” he cut you off by licking the spoon clean. “That’s better.”

You kept feeding him bites of oatmeal and giving him sips of tea until some of the color started to return to his face. “Looks like the medicine is finally starting to kick in.” you replaced the cloth on his forehead for a fresh one. “Feeling any better?”

“Much. But I don’t know how much the medicine had to do with it.” he grazed your hand.

“The medicine helped plenty, but I’ll happily take the rest of the credit.” you reclined next to him, tucking yourself against his side. “I was really worried when the twins called me.”

“Apologies, kitten. I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’m your girlfriend, it’s in my nature to worry.” you rested a hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. “Next time you’re feeling poorly, tell me. Okay?”

“Okay.” he closed his eyes. “I rather like having you fret over me. My kitten takes charge so gently. You can’t help being sweet, even when you’re being bossy.”

“I’d rather you do as I say because you want to rather than because I forced you. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, as the saying goes. Or in this case I guess I’m catching crows.” you poked his chest. “Now get some rest, I’ll be right here by your side.”

“What if I get you sick?”

“Then we’ll be sick together and have to rely on Luke and Kieran to take care of us.” you chuckled. “But I wouldn’t worry about it. Just rest.”

“Fine.” he looped an arm around you, keeping you close to him. “And thank you.” he murmured before finally falling asleep.

You kissed his cheek. “Anything for you, my love.”

[starrygazers]

home, or what's left of it.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ I'M IN MY MYDEI WRITING GROOVE (procrastinating on my programming assignment). Also, the food used here is based on Golden Honeycakes, one of the oldest delicacies in Amphoreus history, which was once a favorite high-end dessert among the nobility. (according to the HSR wiki) also he made an ad for this? that's so cute

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ tags : comfort, fluff

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ featuring : Mydei; minor spoilers for 3.0

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The brutish man ducks his head to slip inside the small entryway. He makes no sound, but his demanding presence in the middle of the establishment is not easy to miss.

You meet his eyes, cloth in hand. Giving him a small smile, you look away and continue wiping the tables. "Normal people say hello, you know?"

Mydei huffs, his hands crossed in front of his chest. The chilly night air of Okhema doesn't seem to bother him, as he's dressed like he normally is. Flashy, royal; befitting of a Crown Prince.

"Take a seat," you motion to the table nearest to the counter. You've put away most of the chairs, as the clock nears midnight, but saved a single one in hopes of your esteemed guest's visit.

He positions himself on the appointed seat, watching you take ingredients out from behind the counter to start cooking.

Mydei is no stranger to being away from home; that's how he'd spent most of his childhood, anyway. Fighting for his life at sea, dying in the hands of giant waves, starvation, or beasts. Even in Kremnos, he never experienced a good night's sleep. It was a kill or be killed world, and immortality doesn't take that away from him; they just have to kill him again and again until he stays dead.

And home was not something to miss, not after what happened. Not after his god fell from glory, dooming his people, and he was forced to make a choice between dying (again and again) for mortals or reign as a deity. So, he chose pain, because that is what's destined for the King who never got his throne.

Home is so far, and he doesn't want to go back.

And yet,

"Here you go!"

You place a plate of Golden Honeycake, topped with fresh fruits and dripping with honey, just like how Mydei likes it.

Home is far, and he doesn't want to go back, but he remembers the same aroma. Of the cooks taking pity in him and introducing him to the sweet delicacy. Of stories in the past by his mother who teased him for having the same taste in sweets as his father and all the kings before him.

He gives you a curt nod, a sign of thanks. You beam at him, watching intently as he takes a tentative bite. It tastes like home.

He takes another bite. Then another, and another, until the plate is a fresh clean slate. You chuckle, picking up the plate.

"You know, most people consider it rude to barge in on closing time," you tease him.

"I didn't mean to disrupt your business."

"You act like you don't drop by here every night, ordering the same thing," you laugh again, and he find himself liking the sound of it. He wants you to laugh again. "You must really like it, huh?"

He chooses not to answer, but he doesn't shake his head either.

You disappear behind the counter to wash the last plate, and he stands in the middle of your restaurant awkwardly.

"Is there ... anything I can help with?" he asks sheepishly.

You stare at him, clearly surprised, before clearing your throat. "Oh, um, you can put the chair away. Please, if you don't mind."

Mydei nods, picking up the wooden chair with ease as if he were handling a feather. At the sight, you allowed yourself a joke, "Closing would be a breeze if you worked here."

The Prince looks away, seeing your apron tucked under one of the shelves, letting his mind wander about a universe where the battles he fought were less gruesome. Where he could patch his wounds and value his only life. Where he would go home, and he'd be proud to call it that.

But in this world, all he had were the scars and the baths.

"You make good Golden Honeycake," he says. "It reminds me of the ones they used to make back in Castrum Kremnos."

Mydei swears he can see the sparkle in your eyes when you stare at him in awe, and thought they rivaled the sight of the night sky of all of Amphoreus.

Then your lips break into a smile, and Mydei's cold, inhumane, non-existent heart melts like the butter on the honeycake.

"I'll have you know that compliments won't suffice as payment," you grin, though a hint of bashfulness is evident in your voice.

"Put it on my tab." the Prince turns away from you, hiding his own embarrassment as he walks to the exit.

"If you had one, it'd be longer than my grocery list," you joke again. "How about this; you come back tomorrow?"

Mydei looks back to you, reads the hope written on your expression easily, and lets out a sigh.

"Yeah, expect me to bother you again tomorrow."

Home is maybe not too far away.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©2025 starrygazers. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ if you liked this, consider buying me a ko-fi! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[mintyhollows]

Nam-Gyu x Thanos’ ex gf reader part 1

This is my first ever attempt at writing anything lmao so bear with me pls. I’ve had bits and pieces of this stuck in my head for DAYS and I just had to do something about it. This part is really just setting the tone as mc & Nam-gyu doesn’t even interact lmao. But lmk if this is anything worth continuing.

THANOS IS PROLLY OOC BUT I LOVE ME SOME MEAN THANOS🫶🏼🫶🏼

When life gives you crippling debt, you can’t really afford to make lemonade. And it wasn’t so much life as it was your ex boyfriend who gave you crippling debt either.

You’d left Su-Bong a long time ago, before he adopted the personality of Thanos rather than just the stage name, and you weren’t planning on ever seeing him again. He’d broken you down in so many ways. Convincing you to let him invest your money, promising you he knew what he was doing, promising you he was recovering from his addiction. If only you hadn’t believed him.

Unfortunately, it seems that when life gives you crippling debt, it doesn’t take your plans into consideration. Now you could only hope Thanos had the decency to leave you alone after everything, even if his new friend might not.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The first game shook you to your core. You hadn’t known what to expect after accepting some random business card and being somewhat consensually kidnapped to god knows where, but it wasn’t this. The sound of gunshots was still ringing in your ears as you were lead back to the main room, and you didn’t know if it would ever stop. You mindlessly found your way back to your bunk and plopped down, trying to regain some piece of mind.

«Fancy seeing you here»

So much for peace of mind. You looked up and met the eyes of your infamous ex boyfriend. He looked worse than you’d ever seen him, yet he acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

«What do you want?»

«Aw, don’t be such a downer. I always said you ought to live a little, come join the Thanos world and we’ll get through this.»

He gestured behind him, where you could see the rest of his presumed friends pretinding not to listen in on the conversation. You raised an eyebrow at him in annoyance.

«If I remember correctly, I already left both you and the Thanos world quite a while ago. Besides, I didn’t realize you had groupies»

He almost looked sorry for you for a second, but he kept the smirk on his face.

«Oh sweetheart. I’ve always had groupies, you were just too naive to realize that you were one of them»

Had he told you this a few months ago your heart would have shattered, but your resentment for him had only grown in your time apart, and so the only thing affected by his statement was your ego. Not that you were about to let him know that though, so you only shrugged at him as he turned to walk away. But not without calling back to you.

«Offer still stands sweetheart, the games are gonna be boring on your own»

You spent the time leading up to the vote mulling over his offer. However annoying he might be, his offer was tempting. It was his fault you needed money in the first place, so letting him show off and keep you safe during the next game was only fair, right?

Once it was your turn to vote you looked over at him and his little group. Thanos was whispering with who seemed to be his right hand man as they both looked at you in anticipatoon. You made eyecontact with the unfamiliar man and felt something in you click.

‘Player 124, huh? Fuck it’ You thought as you pressed ‘O’.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[starlit-writer]

in sickness and in health, ch. 2 - alpha!simon riley x omega!reader

here is chapter two!!!! in writing this chapter, i realized that this little fic has taken on a complete life of its own that i never anticipated, and will have many, many more chapters to come, so if you want to be added to a tag list to make sure you stay up-to-date, let me know in the replies! eat well, lovelies <3

as always, if you want to understand more about my omegaverse au, you can look at my masterpost here, and it'll help explain all of the intricacies that may or may not be explained well enough in these short-form fics!

word count: 4,270 chapter one masterlist ao3 link

You slept. And you slept. And you slept.

But, Simon held tight to his promise to you. He didn’t leave your side for any longer than necessary, and necessary held a very… loose definition to Simon as you laid on his bed, all but comatose. In the three days since you had shown up at his door, Simon had left the bed maybe five times to relieve himself, and a handful of other times just to growl somebody away from the door who had missed the memo that Simon and you would be out of commission for the foreseeable future. The rest of the time, he just laid next to you, curled up like a guard dog. Sometimes he talked to you, but most of the time, he was just watching your chest as it rose up and down, his fingers resting delicately over your wrist to ensure your heart was still beating. That you were still here.

It had been three days. And you still hadn’t woken up. The worry in Simon’s heart was becoming hard to keep down, and the neglect of his own body was starting to catch up with him. He hadn’t done any work, hadn’t showered, and had barely eaten the food that the team had left at the door. He was going insane with panic, with fear, at the thought that he lost you. That he had killed you.

He never knew what he had had until it was gone.

Simon was spiraling. He sat in the corner of the bed, making sure to keep his thigh pressed against you, but his head was in his hands as his fingers tugged relentlessly at his dirty blond strands. It was his fault. All of this was. He didn’t know how to be a good alpha, let alone any sort of partner that he knew you needed him to be. He was so completely lost in his own tortured mind that he didn’t even hear Soap as he slipped into the room.

It wasn’t until the tray full of food that Soap was carrying clattered to the ground that Simon even noticed he was in there. Simon’s head snapped up, his hackles rising as a vicious growl ripped through his throat. The sound was a clear warning to get the fuck away from him and his mate, but all Soap did was roll his eyes in complete exasperation and take a step closer to your sleeping form.

Simon’s growl intensified at the intrusion, his muscles rippling in preparation to fight. It didn’t matter that this was Johnny, one of the few people on this earth that Simon trusted wholeheartedly. His mate was dying, and Simon’s alpha was tearing itself apart, identifying anything and anyone that got too close to you as a threat. But, the other alpha ignored him. The only sign that Simon got that Soap even heard his posturing was the low, return growl that left Soap’s lips as they curled up to reveal his alpha fangs.

“Haud yer wheesht,” Soap grumbled in reply as his hand came up to rest on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing gently over the joint. Soap’s focus was entirely on you, completely ignoring the massive bulk of Simon just on the other side of you. Soap and you had always been friends, and you had sought comfort in him over the last few months of Simon’s neglect. Guilt gnawed at him that he wasn’t enough, that he couldn’t help prevent the bond sickness from stealing you away, but that guilt was far overshadowed by the rage he felt towards Simon.

“How could ye ever do this to ‘er, huh?” Soap muttered, the words low and dangerous as he finally glanced up at Simon. “She was good. More tha’ good. She was a great fuckin’ medic, better teammate, and now look at ‘er.”

Simon’s alpha growled in response. He knew he had fucked up, destroyed you in ways he was only beginning to comprehend. He would take you yelling at him, telling him how shit he was, but hearing it from Soap, another alpha, was a whole new level of shame and guilt. Simon wasn’t built to hold this much emotion, never taught how to properly deal with his feelings, and he was at his breaking point. His rage was rising, like water that had been left on the stove too long without proper supervision, the bubbles breaking free over the steely confines of the walls he had built around his heart.

The very same confines that had kept him from you.

Simon’s eyes zeroed in on Soap’s hand on your shoulder, and he lost it. He scrambled off of the bed, his movements uncoordinated due to the lack of sleep and sustenance, but still full of the undeniable power that lived within the massive bulk of the alpha. He slapped Soap’s hand away, and grabbed at the straps of his tactical vest. Simon picked the smaller alpha up and spun to press him against the wall, Soap’s head cracking off the drywall. But, it wasn’t enough. Simon hated himself. Hated Soap. Hated everything that he could even remotely tie in as a factor to your comatose state on his bed. Simon gnashed his teeth in Soap’s face, pure, unbridled alpha rage pouring off of him.

Soap just smirked, completely unfazed.

“Oh, I see. Now you can be all protective over ‘er when she’s dying, aye? When it’s yer fuckin’ fault that she wasted away like this? You should’ve been better!” Soap was close to yelling now, his own hands coming up to Simon’s throat. Soap wasn’t going to kill him, no, the only thing that that would accomplish right now is causing more harm to you. But, dammit, if he wasn’t close.

Soap squeezed at Simon’s throat, his alpha claws digging into the mating bite on the side of the larger alpha’s throat. “I should rip that fuckin’ bite right off of ye, ye know that right?”

Simon roared, jerking his neck around to get Soap’s claws as far away as possible from the scent gland that held the imprint of your smaller omega fangs - the last thing truly tying him to you. He was far too gone with his rage, his alpha bursting against the confines of his skin, to even begin to formulate a response. All he could see was the red-hot haze of his rage, of his grief, the anguish that had settled so permanently into his bones over the last three days.

Soap grinned, a mean, sadistic thing that did little more than show off his alpha fangs. It was a challenge, an expression eerily similar to what a predator does when defending their territory. But you were not Soap’s territory. He knew that. He wasn’t trying to vye for your affection or to stake claim on you. His goal was single-minded: get Simon pissed enough to finally admit that he needs you, that he’ll fight for you, for your health, and that he’ll never abandon you this way again.

And if he wouldn’t? Well, Soap wasn’t looking for an omega of his own. Mainly just saw you as a constant in his life, in his pack, but he would single-handedly rip out that mating bite that glared, swollen and red from the strain of the bond, on the edge of Simon’s throat with his own claws and claim you as his own, if it meant fixing you, giving you some sort of stability.

“Ye did this to ‘er! Yer neglect, yer fuckin’ issues, made ‘er this way! All because your head was so far up your goddamned arse you couldn’t see it! She deserves better! She deserves an alpha who will take care of ‘er, not someone who will abandon her for months on end in hopes of getting blown to pieces!”

“I know!” Simon roared in response as he lifted Soap away from the wall again and slammed him back into it. “I know!” His grip on Soap started to falter as tears welled up in his eyes. He let go of Soap with one hand, the smaller alpha falling back to his feet on the ground as Simon scraped his hand across his face to prevent the tears from falling.

“I… I just… I don’t know how to do this, Johnny. It’s not like I grew up with a…” Simon trailed off, his voice thick with tears and regret as he completely let go of Soap to run his hands through his hair in anguish. “My father was an awful man. A horrendous example of an alpha. He… the things he did, Johnny, to me, to Tommy, to my poor fuckin’ mum… the only promise I made to myself when I left that place and let it burn to the ground was to never be like him. And that meant keeping myself as far away from any omega as I possibly could. I never wanted this! And then the brass gave that ultimatum, and shoved us together, and… and I sure as shit wasn’t gonna be the reason that she got kicked out of the place that she worked tooth and nail to get to! I didn’t know how to be an alpha! I didn’t know how to protect her, and I had no one to ask! I just… I… I just didn’t know…”

Soap stood against the wall, mouth agape as he looked down at the massive, trembling form of the man he considered his best friend. Somewhere in his monologue, Simon had completely collapsed onto his knees, his head back in his hands, but Soap was too busy listening to the raw, honest truth falling from Simon’s tear-stained lips to even begin to try and guess when it had happened. Soap was in shock. But, he was at even more of a loss at how to comfort the other alpha.

Soap crouched down beside Simon, his hand awkwardly, yet gently, patting his shoulder as Simon’s hulking form shook from the force of his silent tears, his agony. Soap sighed as he rubbed his other hand over the back of his own neck. What the fuck had he gotten himself into?

“Ghost, I… I think you need to go talk to Price. Maybe get in with the base therapist.”

Simon stiffened under Soap’s touch as those words left his mouth. He didn’t want to go talk to Price, even if he was his captain and a part of his pack. He didn’t want to have to admit to his failures to the same person who gave him orders, signed off on his paychecks. And a therapist? Yeah, he talked to a therapist, he’d just about be signing off on his own discharge forms.

Soap felt it. How his words affected Simon. He sighed again, a low rumble reverberating from his chest in an attempt to provide some comfort to the larger alpha. It was normally a move reserved for comforting a pup, or a distressed omega, but Soap was truly at a loss of what to do here. He had never seen Simon break down like this.

“Ghost, Price can help. He’s been with his bonnie lass for years, and they’re happy with pups runnin’ ‘round. Just… you can’t keep doin’ this to ‘er. And if that means you need direction, need to see how to be an alpha… at least talk to Price. She deserves an alpha who can be there for her, at the very least.”

Simon nodded slowly, wiping his hand across his face again. He felt weak, like a failure, but he knew he had to try.

You never knew what you had until it was gone.

Yeah, well, he knew now. And he wasn’t ever going to let it go again.

Simon lifted his head, his watery brown eyes meeting Soap’s determined baby blues. There was still anger in Soap’s eyes, but he was shoving it away. No point in kicking his friend while he was already down.

“I… I can’t just leave her here.”

“I’ll stay with her,” came Soap’s immediate response. You had sought solace in him over the last few months, and as another alpha from your pack, you would probably be the most comfortable with him around, even if your alpha was gone.

Hearing Soap’s immediate reply made something in Ghost’s alpha twist with distress, aching at the idea of another alpha taking care of his omega, even if it was another member of his pack. A low growl born of his alpha’s displeasure of the situation rumbled out of his throat for a moment before he quickly cut it off by clearing it. Simon knew this needed to be done, and sooner rather than later. He had to fix his ways, to see what it meant to truly be the type of alpha that you needed, that you deserved. But, before he agreed, he had to know one thing.

“Do you love her?”

Soap froze, his head rearing back slightly in shock. Did he love you? “What?”

“You heard me. Do you love her?”

“Simon, she’s a part of our pack. She always has been, even before you and her mated. So, yes, I love her, but not… not like that.”

Simon nodded slowly, his joints aching as he stood up to his full height again. Everything hurt. His muscles were sore from lack of movement, sleep, and nutrition, and his heart and soul felt as if they had been ripped to shreds. Your end of the bond felt like it had been shrouded in impenetrable inky blackness, which just made him feel even more empty. Gods, it used to annoy him to no end to feel your neverending presence in his mind, but now he would give anything, his own life, just to feel it again.

Soap breathed out a silent sigh of relief as he saw the acceptance in Simon’s nod. His best friend was going to be okay, both of you would be. He had to believe it. And, in classic Soap fashion, he couldn’t help but try to chip away the sour, somber mood in the room by cracking a joke.

“But, ye fuck it up again, and I really will rip that mating bite right out of ye, ye can bet on tha’.”

Simon glared at him, but it was the first bit of normalcy he had felt in… months. He shoved at Soap’s shoulder, but all it did was make the smaller alpha’s cocky smirk widen.

“Fuck off, Johnny,” Simon mumbled half-heartedly as he pulled off the tank top he had slipped on after you had fallen asleep, and he tucked it gently next to your head to ensure you still had his scent while he was gone. He ran a gentle, almost reverent finger down your cheek, smoothing an errant piece of your hair back behind your ear. He sighed softly, his guilt threatening to break free again, but he quickly stepped back from you and tugged on a sweatshirt. He glanced at Soap, his gaze glinting with a possessive protectiveness.

Soap, knowing exactly what was running through his mind, put his hands up in a placating manner.

“I won’ touch ‘er. Just don’ be gone too long, aye?”

Simon grumbled something under his breath but nodded, grabbing his keys and shoving them in his pocket before he opened the door. He paused in the open doorway with one last, longing glance back at you filled with all of the pain and regret and guilt swirling through his veins before he finally stepped through and shut the door behind him with a soft click.

—

He didn’t want to be here. To be doing this but he would, if it meant fixing you. He stood in front of Price’s office door, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he tried to muster up enough courage to knock. The light was on, so Simon knew Price was in there. Hopefully he was just doing paperwork, and not anything… else.

Simon sighed loudly, scraping a hand down his face before he shook out his arms. He just needed to open the door. And, you know, pour his heart and soul out to the Captain, but that would come after. However, he didn’t get the chance.

“You gonna stand out there all day or are you comin’ in?”

Shit. Simon squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he took a deep breath. He could do this. For you, he could. He had to. He shouldered open the door, but he kept his gaze on the ratty red carpet of Captain Price’s office. Mmm, low-pile. Probably feel really scratchy on his face when Price inevitably-

“Ah, Simon. I’ve been expecting you.”

Fuck. Simon felt untethered, for lack of a better word. He couldn’t get a read on Price’s expression as the older, greying alpha moved his glasses off of the bridge of his nose and carefully folded the arms in to set them on the giant wooden desk in front of him. Simon made a point to keep his gaze away from the gouged out claw marks on the surface of the desk. Simon swallowed thickly and looked back down at the carpet in front of him. He had never had to ask for help before, at least, not like this. Not anything that meant showing his weakness, his losing hand, the fact that he’s a shit ass alpha.

“Uh, yeah. I… um, sir, I need… help.” Gods, kill him now.

“Yeah,” Price breathed out harshly as he stretched his arms back around his head. “Yeah, I’d say you do.”

Simon winced at Price’s words. He sounded like a disappointed father, or, at least, what Simon imagined a disappointed father would sound like, and he felt like he had been brought into the principal’s office after painting graffiti on the side of the building during recess. He finally brought his gaze up to the older Alpha, taking a deep breath before he spoke.

“Captain, listen, I-”

Price cut him off with a raise of his hand as he stood up. Simon watched with wide eyes as Price grabbed a cigar out of the humidor that had always laid on his desk. Price grabbed his lighter, and placed the cigar between his lips before he turned away from Simon and looked out the window in the back of his office. A few moments later, and Simon heard the shink of the lighter catching, and he watched as a thick plume of dark grey smoke rose above Price’s form.

“You should’ve come to me for help sooner.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Price questioned, looking back at Simon over his shoulder.

“You’ve been running for years, Simon. Even before she came into the picture. And I let you. I shouldn’t have, but I kept hoping you would figure it out. And then, well, you didn’t. And then I watched you continue to close yourself off, to keep your distance. I watched as you brushed her off over, and over, and over again. And, I admit, as the pack leader, I should have stepped in. Should have forced you to stay on base and figure your shit out, but, tactically, it would’ve been a mistake to keep you here. So, we’re here now. What’s happened has happened. How are you going to fix it?”

Simon stood there, slack jawed and wide eyed as Captain John Price just essentially ripped down every single one of his defenses, his excuses, in one fell swoop. He wrung his hands in front of him, feeling exactly like he had been flayed open, all of his weaknesses and failures laid out in the open like intestines.

“I… I don’t know. That’s why I came here. I was looking for… pointers, I guess. Of how to be a better alpha- fuck, how to just be a good alpha. How to treat an omega. I wasn’t ever… I didn’t have good role models for that shit, and I just- well, Johnny said-”

“Will you actually listen?”

“What?”

Price took a deep inhale of the thick, grey smoke and held it as he turned to look at Simon face-on, studying Simon’s shaking form, the wild, lost look in his eyes, before he exhaled. Price kept his face schooled in a neutral expression, but he really did feel for Simon. He had once been a lost alpha like him, confused on how to even begin to take on the responsibility of an omega, how to take care of them. “If we have this conversation, will you actually take what I say into consideration? Or are you going to attempt for a few days, get frustrated, and then give up?”

Simon winced as Price continued to lay into him with that same cold, calculating gaze he used when discussing potential battle plans. Simon sighed softly, letting his head fall back to stare at the ceiling for a moment before he rolled his shoulders and looked at Price. “I have to fix this.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

Price grinned around his cigar and sat back down at the desk, his fingers tracing idly over the claw marks in the surface of the wood. He gestured his arm out, inviting Simon to sit across from him. Simon squeezed into the chair, his large bulk making the chair creak in protest. He leaned back, trying to feign a confident, or at the very least, unaffected air, but all of his thoughts just kept coming back to you, his knee bouncing in a very distracting fashion as he fought every urge to just run back to his quarters, just to check on you.

Price smirked and steepled his hands in front of him, resting his chin on his thumbs. “You’re scared, ain’t ya?”

Simon nodded, biting down on his plush lower lip.

“Good. Means ya care. You’re just shit at showing it.”

Simon’s lips pressed into a thin line, but what could he do? He couldn’t protest the truth. He was already flayed open, might as well attempt to dissect and treat the diseased portions where he has been keeping all of his shit coping mechanisms.

“Did you ever court her?” Price asked, watching Simon skeptically. He could guess at the answer, as the relationship between you and Simon was far from traditional.

“No, I… Price, the brass gave us an ultimatum, you know that. I didn’t have time!”

“Not before, you didn’t, but what about after? You still could have courted her. Maybe then you would’ve trusted each other more, and we wouldn’t all be in this situation. Do you even know her favorite food? Flower? Song to dance to at 3 am in the kitchen? Color?”

With each question, Simon sank further and further into himself. He felt like the worst alpha on the planet. And, honestly, he probably was, or else you wouldn’t be still laying in his bed practically comatose.

Captain Price sighed and rubbed his thumb over the deep-set lines in his forehead. “Alright, well, those are good places to start, I guess, but… being an alpha isn’t all about gift giving and protecting. You have to listen to her. And I don’t just mean the words out of her mouth - although those are still very important - I also mean her pheromones. Her body language. Her microexpressions. All of the things she doesn’t say.”

“What!? How am I-”

Price put his hand up again to stop the tirade that he knew was about to come pouring out of Simon. “You pay attention. That’s it. It ain’t rocket science, Simon. You’ve led how many teams through how many missions? I’m sure you can figure out if one omega prefers dark or milk chocolate.”

Simon sighed loudly, the sound trailing off into a growl. He felt so stupid. He had been too focused on himself, on his own trauma and his own issues that he had completely neglected the bare minimum for you. He had so much to make up for. He slammed his forehead down into the desk in frustration, the force making the pens on the desk jump. “I should’ve just allowed the brass to kick me out. At least then she could’ve been forced to mate someone who could actually provide for her.”

Price shrugged, leaning back in his own chair as he puffed on his cigar. “No point in thinkin’ like that. You guys are mates, and that bond stayed together for a lot longer than I ever thought it would. That means somethin’, you know. So, you’ve really only got one option. You’ve gotta fix it. Listen to her. Pay attention. Make her feel cared for.”

Simon nodded, his forehead still pressed against the cold wood of the desk, but something Price said kept sticking in his brain, ruminating like a dog trying to lick peanut butter off of the roof of its mouth.

“That means something?” Simon asked, looking up at Price, skeptically looking for clarification.

Price just grinned and pretended to zip his mouth shut before waving Simon off. “Go back to your girl. If you still haven’t figured it out in a few weeks, come talk to me. But remember, court her. Especially after all of this. Show her you care. That you can be a good alpha.”

Simon furrowed his brow, not thrilled about not getting an answer about what Price meant, but got up from his seat. He had been dismissed, and all he wanted to do was get back to you.

Courting. Courting. Right. He could do that. Right?

tag list: @kerst666 @misscaller06 @letaliabane @sai-int @itsmeamysworld @massivescissorsthingperson @aeeliy

[windser]

where the apple falls

pairing: amnesia, exbf! caleb x reader rating: t wc: 1700+ a/n: based off this post. this will be a series of drabbles. i will also be working on other exbf! caleb verse. that is the trope for him the resonates most with me. after reading his story, i'm soooo excited to write about him. happy to take requests relating to both tropes!

“hmm, jian bing? normally i have to accumulate quite a bit of favors to wake up to this. what’s the occasion?”

a homemade cure to job memory loss, sits on your tongue like a secret. but you swallow it down, tasting every word you can’t admit. it’s only been a week. since then, caleb has seen the physicians once more—three days since returning to your home for a follow-up.

but just those seventy-two hours had felt like distant memory. the first morning had been the most jarring. caleb had walked into the apartment as if he’d only returned from a day at work, not nearly a week in the hospital, though even the small missed him longer. his only moment of hesitation was the brief pause when his eyes caught on the small changes you had made since the breakup.

the furniture remained the same—too much hassle to replace—but you'd taken quiet, deliberate steps to erase him. gone were the photos of shared milestones, absent were his awards and accolades. the tangible pieces of caleb had vanished, leaving only the slowly healing void in your heart.

the physician had given you ample time to prepare your home for his discharge, clear instructions to recreate a familiar space that mirrored the fragments of his memory. but you’d balked at the thought of resurrecting the past. now the remnants of the last four years were still stored away in the recesses of your closet. 

selfish, perhaps. misguided, maybe. but a part of you refused to accept the accident—not just the memory loss, but the implausibility of it all. caleb, always composed, prepared for anything? reduced now to a vulnerable man clinging to fractured echoes of what was? 

it didn’t sit right with you.

you watched as his gaze drifted over the near-barren walls and mismatched artwork. his jaw tightened, barely perceptibly, lips parting as if testing words that refused to form. his shoulders rose once, twice, then sagged in quiet surrender before he turned to you with a smile so perfectly broken it felt like a carefully crafted illusion.

"still in the middle of some deep cleaning, huh? i appreciate you getting everything ready for me to come back home. why don't I help get it back in order?"

at the check-up, the physician warned you: patience was crucial. recovery couldn’t be rushed without risking setbacks. most cases resolved themselves with time, they assured you.

just be patient.

“i thought some of your favorites would help you remember” you offered instead, glancing over your shoulder quickly before turning your attention back to the stove. “it’s almost done.”

caleb didn’t respond at first as he sat down at the kitchen bar, still dressed in his sleepwear. he couldn’t have been up for more than a few minutes, likely just long enough to take his part of medication before arriving. the others would require a meal to go with them.

“i couldn’t have missed that much,” he said finally, voice laced with casual dismissal. “i don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

it was eerie, how easily he brushed off nearly a year of his life.

you set a cup of coffee down in front of him with a mishandled grimace. “this is serious, caleb. you can’t just report a wrong date and think everyone is going to write it off. ” it was becoming just a bit more than a little frustrating how light he took the situation. 

his hand shot out, catching your wrist before you could turn away. his grip was firm but not unkind, his thumb brushing absently over your pulse.

“i am taking it seriously,” he said quietly, his eyes steady on yours. “do you understand how troubling it is to hear you've lost months of time?”

“could have fooled me.” you mumbled under your breath, tugging half-heartedly at his arm.

“what was that?” his voice sharpened slightly. “it doesn’t help when you mutter.”

you exhaled sharply, meeting his gaze. “i said you’re not exactly helping yourself, caleb. It was okay at first to adjust. i know you were in pain, and it was jarring, but—” your voice cracked, the words caught in your throat. you cleared it hastily, averting your eyes. the physicians had warned you to avoid accusations, anything that might exacerbate his confusion or headaches. caleb’s expression tightened as he read the unspoken in your hesitation.

“but?” he pressed. his grip on your arm loosened, though he didn’t let go.

“it doesn’t feel like you’re trying to get better,” you said, wincing as you braced for his reaction.

instead, you felt the soft press of his lips against your temple.

“i don’t even know what ‘better’ looks like,” he murmured. “I’m doing what i was told. resuming routines. beyond that…” his thumb brushed your cheek as he trailed off. “you’ve got your orders too. sure you’re doing your part?”

you shoved at his chest, though there was no real force behind it. “that’s not funny.”

he didn’t laugh, though his eyes glinted with suppressed amusement. “okay okay, i know. it’s just... a lot to process. being told your life isn’t what you thought it was.” he sipped his coffee. “i mean, what could i have possibly missed?”

your gaze dropped to the mug, a relic of the past—the one you’d gifted him when he got his fleet position. “a lot, caleb. a lot.”

“well, they told me to take it one step at a time. i’m still processing it all. still can’t believe the news headlines”

“pretty sure you were told to not overwhelm yourself,” you countered.

he shrugged. “i binged all the new seasons of our sitcoms. i get bored.”

“and nothing triggered even the smallest memory?”

“it might help if you just told me what i’m forgetting.”

you stiffened, jaw tight. “you’re supposed to recall them naturally.”

caleb leaned back, studying you with quiet intensity. “then we just keep going as we were. i have you, and you have me. what else matters?”

“caleb…” your voice faltered, a lump rising in your throat. “that’s not—”

“i’m sorry.” his tone softened as he tugged you closer. “i know this is hard for you too. there are probably things you want to tell me…” his hands steadied you as he guided you onto his lap.

your faces were so close now that you could feel the faint heat radiating from him, a warmth that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. it struck you as almost cruelly ironic how, in a way, you were both reliving memories—but only you felt the hollow ache of the gaps between them. you could count every one of his dark lashes, each one a delicate frame to the deep gaze fixed on you. and then your eyes betrayed you, flickering downward to caleb’s mouth: light pink, nicely shaped, and far too familiar. you knew, if you gave in and pressed your lips to his, they’d taste soft, warm, and faintly of coffee.

“yeah,” you replied, though your voice was barely more than a breath.

“yeah,” caleb echoed with a faint, lopsided quirk to his lips. “just… give me a bit more time, okay? right now, despite the aches in my body, nothing has ever felt more right. it’s always been like this with you.” his voice softened, becoming something raw and fragile. “i wouldn’t trade this for anything. not even for the memories I’ve lost.”

“that’s not okay, caleb,” you said tersely, the words rising unbidden in your throat. “you can’t just disregard the past—or the future.”

his head tilted slightly as he studied you, something unspoken glimmering in his eyes. for a moment, silence stretched thin between you before, without warning, caleb stood up. you barely had time to react before you were flipped upside down, your world spinning as blood rushed to your head.

“caleb, what are you doing!?” you yelped, hands scrambling to clutch the fabric of his shirt in tight fists.

“just hang on,” he said, voice far too calm for the chaos he’d just unleashed.

he carried you the short distance to the couch with an unsettling ease, his shins pressing against the edge before he lowered you onto the cushions. a pillow fell to the floor in his wake, discarded like an afterthought.

in the shock of it all, you barely registered his hands threading gently through your hair, the sensation grounding you even as your mind reeled. his gaze traced the lines of your body as though committing them to memory, an intensity that made your breath hitch. caleb had always been intense, after all—a force that could bring everything in its path to kneel. that much hadn’t changed. but now, there was something else. a weight behind his actions, a shadow you couldn’t quite name.

he wasn’t holding you down, but his presence blanketed you, toeing the fragile line between comfort and constraint.

when his lips descended, it felt inevitable, like the pull of gravity. a soft, tentative brush at first, before returning with more intensity, more hunger, as if savoring the moment like a man starved. his kiss was familiar in all the ways that made your heart ache, every motion perfectly attuned to what you liked, what you craved.

when Caleb finally pulled away, you instinctively leaned forward, chasing the warmth of his mouth. but he had already shifted, his lips grazing along your jaw, leaving a trail of nips and feather-light kisses in his wake.

it was still caleb. caleb, who always knew exactly how to undo you.

your eyes fluttered open, stealing a glance at him as he kissed the curve of your neck. you weren’t sure what you were looking for—a sign, a clue—but all you saw was caleb. just caleb.

despite it all.

despite your suspicions.

he was okay.

and despite everything, the thought of losing him still felt unbearable.

caleb sighed softly, leaning back to look at you. his hand drifted to your face, a knuckle brushing against your cheek in a gesture so tender it made your chest tighten. you leaned into his touch without thinking.

“i’ll figure it out,” he murmured, his voice low but steady. “i always do.”

and in that moment, as his words settled in the space between you, you couldn’t quite recall why that wasn’t a good thing.

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - Stab me.

Warning : blood, death

Genre : angst

Synopsis : Imagine the final game is the same one as in season 1 but it’s just you and Thanos

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English // it’s short UGH

As you entered the empty field, you recognized the place. You had played the first game here, Younghee still in place, her body facing the wall but her head turned to you, as if she was still watching you.

Thanos was by your side, almost in his own world as he had already popped one of his pills in his mouth, moving his hands to the rhythm of the square guard speaking, explaining the rules.

You wanted to smile at his antics and relax but you couldn’t.

The more he spoke, the more you recognized the rules, the game. Though you played it a lot as a kid, you didn’t have for habit of winning it.

You had expected the last game to be a one versus one. One lives, one dies. But you had hoped for a game where two could win. If only.

You squeezed the knife in your pocket. You were ready. You breathed slowly, trying to calm yourself and your panicking heart.

“Three. If by any chance one player is unable to proceed with the game, the last one to stand wins.” The guard finished as he turned around, stopping you in the center of the field where lines were drawn on the ground like in your childhood, but much bigger.

“What happens to the uh, player who loses ?” You asked, voice shaky, hoping for the best.

As Thanos was about to reply that you’d be two winners, the guard spoke.

“Death. Like in any other games.”

“Huh ? What ?” Thanos said, before looking at you, wide eyed.

“Now, let the game begin.” The guard said, walking away from the giant squid on the ground.

Thanos slowly moved to the tip of the squid, ready to play the game though he was trying to think of a plan to get out of here. He had the fork from the bathroom fight and stole a knife from the last meal, he could kill the seemingly unarmed guard. But then what ?

As he turned around he noticed you hadn’t moved.

“I fucking hated that game.” You said with a disgusted face, pulling the knife out of your pocket and before you could think more about your actions, you stabbed yourself in the chest, taking it out and planting it again. You grimaced. Sweating. Fuck, so painful !

Thanos was horrified. Frozen in shock.

You tried to speak but let out a cough instead, some blood spilling out of your mouth, ruining your sweet face.

You pulled the knife out one last time and let it fall down. More blood gushing and spilling out, staining your suit. You fell to your knees before planting face first into the ground, gasping.

Thanos’ eyes were wide as he thought he was having a bad trip, but when he saw you remain on the ground, unmoving, he finally stumbled toward you, rushing, pulling you against him.

“What the fuck ! Why did you do that ?!” He yelled, his voice and hands were shaking. He didn’t know what to do.

You raised your hand slowly, gently caressing his face, before going to his hair, enjoying their fluffiness, a soft smile on your bloodied lips. He grabbed your hand, squeezing it against his heart.

Fuck.

“[Name]… Oh my god…” He started, looking at your face then at your wounds. “Why did you do that !? Huh ?!” He yelled, shaking you slightly, not understanding your thought process. How could you do this ? You were supposed to be the one winning. Not him.

“So…rry.” You replied, struggling to speak. It was hurting so bad you could hardly breathe. “Am selfish.” Your voice was so quiet, barely audible, like strangled.

He frowned.

“What do I do ? What do I do !?” He yelled, frustration and fear engulfing him. He placed one hand on your stab wounds, trying to stop the bleeding, your blood seeping between his fingers, getting stuck inside his rings. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You squeezed his hand, feeling your end approach more and more.

You wanted to speak more, to tell him how much you love him, how you love loving him, how thankful you felt for his feelings, even when you’re arguing, clashing, fighting.

You wanted to tell him you are too afraid to live without him, on your own, with your grief for only company. But he can do it, he’s resourceful, has dreams, he can have connexions, find help. Start anew with the money. Be a fucking worldwide rapper like he had planned. You know it will be hard, but he can do it. You trust him.

You coughed and wheezed more blood out as you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

You wanted to tell him to kiss you, one last time, so you could die without forgetting the taste of his lips, though you never forgot it. But it’s for good measure and to erase the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

You were so afraid.

You grabbed his collar, wanting to pull him in but tears glided down your face instead. It was so fucking painful. Fuck…

You let go of him, hand falling to the ground as you drew out your last breath, Thanos was holding you tightly, still screaming and cursing at the guard to help, to fucking do something, not noticing your death until after a good minute.

“No ! [Name] !” He yelled, shaking you. Your empty eyes looking at the sky, a flock of birds passing by. His head fell down, devastated, defeated, heartbroken.

He looked at the knife.

He wanted to do the same. To end it, once and for all. He had been too much of a coward to do it on the bridge, now was his fucking chance.

But he is still a fucking coward.

It’s gonna hurt, isn’t it ? If I stab myself in the heart ? It’s gonna be painful ? Will we really be reunited ? Will you be happy to see me ?

How did you do it ? Why ? How could you ?

He let out a frustrated scream before pulling you closer.

“Fuck ! Why did you do that ?” He asked, quietly, kissing your forehead.

Thanos stayed like this, holding you, until he heard footsteps coming from behind him, two masked O approaching with a big black box to put your lifeless body in.

“Don’t approach ! Go away !” He grabbed the knife, swinging it around, ready to fight them, still holding you. “Fucking bitchless bastards, I’ll kill y-”

The square guard had knocked him out with his gun.

It took a lot of time for Thanos to come back to the rap scene. Scared he would fail you. Fail the second chance you gave him. But he was doing his best, releasing songs and samples every now and then to not be forgotten. He wasn’t really successful, forgotten since his appearance on TV, but he did get himself a small fanbase, a mix of the 1st day fans and new ones.

Though his debts and lack of money weren’t really known, people still noticed the change in his entourage and the people he worked with.

“Do you think he stole the money from his fans ?” A girl asked her friend, reading an article about Thanos’s comeback. “A bit like that YouTuber that disappeared some years ago after scamming his viewers with crypto money. Ah, what was his name ?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think his fans are rich enough to give him that much money. Maybe he won the lottery ?” Her friend replied, looking over her shoulder to read the article as well. “But he’s not the type of guy to hide he won it, so I truly wonder too.”

[multi-stays]

Shoulda Been Me

Paring: Idol!Roommate Han Jisung/FemReader

Genre: smut 18+ MDNI/ kinda angsty

Summary: When an on-and-off sexual relationship with Minho takes a turn, your roommate Jisung decides he's had enough.

Note: A smut collab with @inkandtension love ya😘

💜✨Warnings below the cut✨💜

Warnings: slight angst, unprotected sex, oral sex (F Receiving), cussing, asshole Minho, nipple play, hickeys, making out, dry humping

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of your shared apartment, catching the flecks of dust floating lazily in the air. You sat curled up on the couch, a book in hand, though your eyes skimmed over the words without absorbing them. The feeling in your chest—a mix of loneliness and quiet yearning—had been gnawing at you all day.

Jisung, your roommate, emerged from his room, headphones slung around his neck and a notepad in his hand. His unruly hair and slightly disheveled appearance betrayed hours spent hunched over his desk, working on his latest track. He looked up and grinned when he saw you.

"Still on that same page, huh?" he teased, plopping down on the couch next to you.

You smiled faintly, closing the book. "Yeah, I guess I’m a little distracted."

Jisung tilted his head, studying you. His voice softened. "What’s going on? You seem... off."

"It’s nothing," you said quickly, not wanting to drag him into your mess.

Jisung didn’t press, though the way his gaze lingered told you he wasn’t convinced. Instead, he nudged your arm playfully. "Alright, but don’t forget—ramen night tonight. I’m making my specialty."

You laughed softly. "Your specialty is adding a slice of cheese."

"Exactly. A masterpiece," he said, grinning.

His lightheartedness eased some of the weight in your chest, but it didn’t completely go away. Later, when your phone buzzed with a message from Minho, your heart sank and soared at the same time.

Come over, it read.

The words were as blunt as always. No greeting, no questions about your day—just an order. You stared at the screen for a moment, debating whether to reply. Against your better judgment, you found yourself grabbing your bag.

"Heading out?" Jisung asked as you slipped on your shoes.

"Yeah," you muttered.

"Minho?" he guessed, his tone carefully neutral.

You nodded, avoiding his eyes. Jisung didn’t say anything, but you caught the way his expression hardened slightly before he looked away.

Minho’s apartment was cold, both in temperature and atmosphere. He greeted you at the door with a nod, barely making eye contact.

It was the same routine as always—no small talk, no warmth. You sat awkwardly on the edge of his couch while he disappeared into his room for a moment.

"Come on," he said when he returned, gesturing for you to follow.

And you did.

**

"I don’t think I can keep doing this," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Minho glanced at you, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"This... whatever this is. I want more, Minho."

He scoffed, sitting up. "I told you from the start I’m not looking for anything serious. You knew what this was."

Your chest tightened. "I thought maybe..." You paused, tears welling in your eyes. "I thought you’d change your mind."

Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This is exactly why I don’t do relationships. You’re too sensitive. If you can’t handle it, maybe we should stop."

His words stung like a slap. You blinked back tears, sitting up. "You’re right. Maybe we should."

"Fine," he said, grabbing his jacket. "I’m going out. Let yourself out."

You stayed in his bed for a moment, feeling a mix of anger and heartbreak. Then you pulled yourself together and left, your mind clouded with regret and humiliation.

The apartment was unusually quiet when you stepped inside, the door clicking softly behind you. Your hands trembled as you clutched your bag, your face streaked with tears that refused to stop falling. You felt like a raw nerve, your confrontation with Minho replaying in your mind like a broken record.

You barely made it to the couch before your legs gave out, your body curling into itself as the sobs you’d been holding back finally escaped. You buried your face in your hands, the ache in your chest threatening to consume you entirely.

"Y/N?"

You froze at the sound of Jisung’s voice, your breath hitching. You hadn’t even heard his door open. When you glanced up, he was standing in the hallway, his expression shifting from confusion to immediate concern.

"What happened?" he asked, hurrying over to kneel in front of you.

You shook your head, trying to brush it off. "It’s nothing, Jisung. I’m fine."

"Fine?" he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You’re crying on the couch in the middle of the night, and you want me to believe you’re fine?"

You looked away, your fingers clutching at the fabric of your jeans. He was too close, his gaze too intense.

"Y/N," he said softly, his hand resting gently on your knee. "Talk to me. Please."

Something in his voice broke the dam inside you. The words spilled out in a messy, tear-filled confession—everything about your arrangement with Minho, how he treated you, how you felt used and unseen. How you’d hoped things would change but had finally realized they wouldn’t.

By the time you finished, your voice was hoarse, and Jisung’s expression was a mix of fury and heartbreak. He let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair as he stood.

“Too sensitive? Is he for real? He’s the insensitive bit-“ he stopped, his voice low but shaking with emotion. "He treated you like that? And you just... let him?"

You flinched at his words, but he softened immediately, crouching down again to meet your eyes. "No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just... God, Y/N, you deserve so much better than this."

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes. "It’s not like I had other options, Jisung. I thought... I don’t know what I thought."

He stared at you for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Then, with a surprising steadiness, he said, "If you needed a good fuck, why didn’t you come to me? At least I’d treat you the way you deserve."

Your head snapped up, your eyes wide. "What?"

"I’m serious," he said, his tone firm yet gentle, though tinged with something heartbreakingly sad. "I’ve been right here, Y/N. And I would never—never—make you feel like this. You deserve someone who sees you, who cares about you. Someone who actually listens."

You stared at him, speechless. There was something in his eyes—something raw and unguarded—that made your heart skip a beat.

"Jisung..."

He stepped closer, his hands finding your shoulders as he leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek. His fingers slid gently over the curve of your shoulder, trailing up to caress the side of your head, his thumb brushing your temple with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

"Darlin’," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet heavy with emotion. His forehead rested against yours for a fleeting moment, his other hand cupping your jaw as though afraid you might pull away. "Let me take care of you, just once. Please. Let me show you what it’s supposed to feel like."

His hands lingered on your face, warm and steady, cradling you with a care that felt out of place for him. His thumbs brushed your cheeks, his touch soft, almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him stay there. His tone was quiet, carrying just the faintest tremor, and his eyes stayed fixed on yours, searching for something he didn’t say.

All your adrenaline surged through you at once and maybe what happened next was inevitable, with the way he stared into your soul and his comment earlier that went straight to your core, you kissed your roommate.

You hoped it wasn't a mistake, you didn't want to lose what you already had with Jisung but you were so needy. His fervent kiss slowly took you away from the corner of the couch you were crying in and made you feel something you never felt before.

His kisses were slow and his movements were all carefully thought of, putting a hand in yours and the other on the back of your head, slowly leaning into you forcing you to lay flat on the couch.

With the new angle, you could feel his erection through his pants, pressing into your leg and throbbing with each kiss.

By now if Minho was hard he'd already be ruthlessly fucking into you, stripping you naked like you were some whore he picked up off the street and treating you like a dog.

But Jisung was gentle and his thoughts completely away from himself, even if that meant he'd cum in his pants without you ever touching him.

His hand trailed down to your breast, slipping under your shirt to massage it bare, his warm soft hands making it so pleasurable.

The slow grinding of his cock into your clit made you buck up into him, his hips matching your rhythm as you both humped each other.

“This is still ok right?” he asked, stopping his movements just for a moment to look at you, eagerness filling his eyes.

“Please, don't stop” you moaned, putting your hand between the two of you to strip your shirt off.

The sight of your bare nipples sent Jisung over the moon and he couldn't stop himself from attaching his lips to one, the other being pinched between his fingers.

He swirled his tongue around your nipple making your whole body shiver. His other hand made its way to your face, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand before bringing them up to your mouth for you to suck, which you instinctually did without thought.

Moans straight from Jisung’s hard penis shot straight up to his mouth and into your nipple, the vibrations making your mind go fuzzy and your nails dig into his back.

His lick soon stopped as he trailed his kisses up to the top of your breast, rolling your skin between his teeth and sucking hard every now and then. You knew he was trying to leave a hickey and you were fine with having his mark, hoping you could flaunt it in front of Minho sometime.

“Such a pretty purple spot on you,” he said pulling his fingers out of your mouth and rubbing the spit on his hickey that sat perched just below your collarbone.

“Can you take my pants off, Please?” you asked, lifting your groin in the air so he could easily slip it off.

He delicately hooked his fingers on the waistband of your pants and slid them down to your feet so you could kick them the rest of the way off. You weren't wearing any underwear so there you were, bare and naked in front of him and he loved every minute of it, eyes darting from your wet folds to your pretty clit that was waiting for him.

He spread your legs open wider. “God you're gorgeous,” he said leaning down, his breath hitting your glistening folds. “I think I'll just,” he planted his tongue on your clit, kissing it softly. “Give you a few kisses first,” he smirked devilishly against your wet skin, spreading you open to slowly start sucking your hole.

You arched your back at the feeling, you've never had oral sex performed on you before. Obviously, you did it to Minho more times than you'd like to admit, but now you were seeing why he liked it so much.

His kissing and sucking made you forget everything about Minho, now only focusing on his lips sucking you.

You propped yourself up on your one hand, getting a better view of him covered in your slick, a particularly large string of your white essence running from his mouth to his neck.

Soon he started sucking hard on your messy folds and you couldn't help but tangle your free hand in Jisung’s messy curls, a small moan escaping his lips when you pulled a bit too hard, edging and pushing him deeper into your vagina.

He nuzzled his face deep within you, looking down at him between your legs you could tell he was just as lost as you, spit and your juices still running down his chin and he couldn't care any less.

His eyes were shut, but he knew very well what spots to suck, your folds plopping out of his mouth so he could focus on your clit.

“Fuck Jisung, please stop” you said, arching into his face. He almost jumped when he heard the words escape your lips. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he looked at you almost petrified searching for an answer.

“Did I hurt you? Are you uncomfortable? Am I not any good?” thousands of thoughts filled his mind hoping he did nothing wrong.

“No” you laughed, “I just want you in me before I orgasm, that's all.”

You sat up from where you were lying and chased him into a kiss, slowly undoing his belt as you both stood up, his hands cupping your face as he let you pull his belt out.

You could feel Jisung’s sigh of relief in the kiss as he fiddled with his pants, taking them off quickly and bringing his hands back up to your cheeks.

Jisung kissed you deeply, guiding both of you safely into his bedroom and closing the door with his foot. You layed down on the bed as you waited for Jisung to join you. He scurried over to his bedstand and got out a condom, pulling it open with his teeth and sliding it over his cock.

“Ji”

You looked at him innocently but your intentions were far from it.

“Can we try maybe without the condom?”

His eyes widened and his penis twitched as he slipped the condom off, visibly affected by the thought of being in your bare vagina.

“If that's what you want then I’ll gladly oblige, tonight's about you.”

You shook your head yes, eagerly wanting to feel his cock raw.

He tossed the condom in his small trash bin beside his bed and pumped his cock a few times, getting it lubed up so it would slide in easier.

Seeming he's already seen you naked you didn't feel shy spreading your legs open so he could stand between them. He slid his hands up your stomach and rubbed his thumbs across your soft skin “I'm gonna take care of you.”

Looking down you see his long cock in his hand, slipping it perfectly through your wet folds and in your aching hole.

The feeling of you bottoming him out left Jisung feeling fuzzy, head lulling back with a low groan.

“You take me so well y/n, fuck so tight” he said, as he started to move, putting his hands on your waist for support and pushing in. His cock fit you perfectly, not too small and not too big, unlike Minho’s.

The pain Minho brought you was far worse than any love he could have given you, physically and mentally he exhausted you. Especially towards the end, there was no way you could've loved him.

Now you just wanted to relax, fully letting yourself forget about him and focus only on Jisung. Feel his cock head drag across your spongy walls, his cute face heaving into your ear with each hard thrust.

When Jisung was about to orgasm he dug his pretty nails that were painted matte black into your skin, the stinging of him pushing deeper made it clear to you that he was there, walls fluttering around him as you felt his release fill you up.

“Fuck Ji it feels so good, don't stop please,” you said, grinding your hips into his sloppy thrusts, squelching sounds filling the room as you both rode out your high.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, referring to his head that was now comfortably placed between your boobs, his arm around your torso, snuggling you tightly.

“No Ji, this is perfect” you said, placing your hand in his and playing with the now very messy tangle of curls in front of you.

Jisung let out a sigh of relief and sunk deeper into your bare skin, breathing in your soft perfume that was still lingering on your skin, a slight tinge of sweat mixed with it.

“Does this mean we can talk about us in a dating kinda way?”

“Im kinda tired right now but we can talk about us tomorrow Ji” you said, hoping you didn't hurt his feelings.

But he didn't answer, looking down his eyes were shut and his hand that once drew a small circle on your skin stopped.

He must've been more tired than he realized, you thought smiling to yourself as you too drifted off to sleep, safe in Jisung’s embrace.

[salty-autistic-writer]

I wish you would write a fic where Buck experiences Tommy going into Autistic shutdown.

Thanks for the prompt! <3

Tommy is silent on the drive home.

He’s turned away from Buck, staring out of the window, only answering in hums, shrugs or barely noticeable shakes of his head.

“Hey. Are you alright?” Buck asks when he has to stop at a red light.

“Hmmm.”

Buck frowns. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Nothing.

Buck throws a concerned glance at Tommy, or rather, at the back of Tommy’s head.

Okay. This is new.

And Buck struggles with the urge to press. To insist. Because if anything bothers Tommy, if anything hurts or worries him, Buck wants to help. Wants to comfort and reassure. Wants to be a good boyfriend.

But every signal Tommy is giving indicates that he wants to be left alone. And Buck guesses he has to be patient then, even if it hurts. Even if he’s scared that it’s something he did wrong. The thought burns. Did he do or say anything wrong today? Did he hurt Tommy by accident? 

No. He has to stop spiralling. It’s been a long day of work ending with a long evening of socialising. They all went to a bar together for the first time. The whole 118. Spontaneously. Buck did notice Tommy’s surprise and hesitance when he was asked if he would come too, noticed that brief frowny moment of really? before he had his confident smile back in place and said “Of course”. 

It got late. Tommy is probably just exhausted and needs some time for himself. They have only moved in together recently, so they are also still getting used to sharing everything all the time.

When they’re home, Tommy mechanically, wordlessly, takes off his jacket and shoes and makes a beeline for the bedroom.

Buck stares after him, baffled, scratching the back of his head in restless uncertainty.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to not just burst and ask Tommy a thousand questions. Buck holds himself back. Takes a few deep breaths instead. Only after he goes to the bathroom and drinks some water, does he go to the bedroom to check on Tommy.

It’s dark in the room because the curtains are drawn. Tommy sits on the bed, still in his clothes, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them, head resting on them. He’s not moving.

Maybe he has a migraine? Buck’s chest clenches in sympathy. He doesn’t really know what to do. But he feels like it’s a little cold in the room. So he takes one of their extra blankets and wraps it around Tommy’s stony shoulders. Then, he grabs his laptop and sits on the bed too with his back to Tommy’s, without touching him. They are sitting in silence like that, the room filling with the noise of even breathing and rhythmic keyboard clattering.

Buck doesn’t know how much time has passed when Tommy’s shoulder nudges him. “Hey,” Buck says, smiling Tommy turns around and puts his head on Buck’s shoulder. “You okay?” “Hm. What are you doing?” Tommy asks, his voice slightly dozy as if he just woke up from a nap.

“Not much. I started with a mystery story about a message in a bottle I found and somehow ended up reading about the frankly horrifying eating habits of Komodo dragons.”

“Wow,” Tommy says, shuddering when he sees the quite graphic picture Buck was looking at. “Poor little deer. Well. I guess it’s the circle of life. So, uh, you probably want to talk about it, huh?”

“Hm?”

“Me, going all silent on you,” Tommy clarifies.

Buck closes the laptop. “Oh. It’s fine. I was just worrying.”

Tommy nods, unsurprised. “It’s not you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Okay. But … are you okay?” “Me?” Tommy says, now sounding a little surprised. “Oh. Yeah. Sure. It was just a little too much today. I didn’t want to be a buzzkill. And it’s not like I don’t like spending time with people, especially your family and friends. I just like to know. So I can prepare myself. Unplanned social events tend to make me a little … withdrawn after because they seem to drain all the energy I had left for the day. Always feels like my stupid mind is a battery that has to recharge after days like this, sorry.”

“I had a feeling,” Buck nods. “And you don’t need to apologize. Or to pretend. You can be honest with me. If you don’t feel like going out, you can tell me. We don’t have to. We can just have a nice relaxing evening at home together. I want both of us to be comfortable.”

Tommy is silent for a moment. “Thank you,” he finally says quietly.

“What for?”

“For being so accepting. For not pushing. For the blanket.”

Buck wants to chuckle, but then he feels a hint of sadness. Because sometimes he feels like Tommy is thanking him for totally normal things. If this is what Tommy sees as accepting, that means someone couldn’t even do this. Couldn’t even let Tommy have a moment for himself when he clearly needed it. Buck makes a mental note to ask. Because he feels like this is totally something they should have a long talk about. But not now.

“I hope it helped,” he says instead.

“It did,” Tommy says. “You have no idea.”

Buck smiles. “I'm glad. Are you hungry?" “Yeah.”

Buck puts a hand on his grumbling stomach. “Good. Because I could eat a whole deer right now, just like that Komodo dragon.” "Evan ..."

(AO3 Link)

[saeslove]

🕸️ 015 . lines we crossed

synopsis caught between playful banter and rising tension, a kiss ignites feelings too raw to ignore, but his self-doubt threatens to tear you both apart before it can begin. wc 948

“bro??? i lost three times in a row! how are you so good at literally everything?”

he smirked, setting down his controller and taking yours in his hands. “it’s easy. come here, i’ll show you.” his warm, bruised hands covered yours as he guided you.

“so, to speed up, you press this button here, and to slow down, it’s this one. got it? now give it a shot.”

you blinked, clearly distracted. “huh?”

he raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “i said, try it out. i just taught you my tricks.”

“oh, okay,” you mumbled, trying to focus.

but he wasn’t convinced. “you didn’t listen to a word i said, did you?”

“i did!” you protested, fumbling to recall. “the decelerate button is here, and then the—”

before you could finish, he stepped closer, the proximity making your breath hitch. his voice was lower now, teasing. his breath brushed your lips.

as he lingered close, his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back “you’re distracted again,” he said, “are you even trying to focus, or is it me?”

you swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks. “i’m trying!”

“if you say so.” his fingers grazed yours briefly as he steps away from you.

“alright, one more round. if you lose again, maybe i’ll have to take over completely.”

you tried to focus on the screen, but the game blurred in comparison to the tension lingering between you. suddenly, the game ended, your character crashing into defeat yet again.

“game over,” he said with a laugh, leaning back triumphantly. “guess that’s four in a row.”

you groaned in frustration, throwing the controller down onto the couch. “i don’t even know why i bother.”

“maybe because you like losing to me," he teased, the smirk on his face infuriatingly charming.

shooting him a glare, you grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him. he caught it effortlessly, laughing as he leaned forward. "alright. i’ll let you win next time."

"yeah, sure," you muttered, but you couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips.

as his laughter subsided, the room seemed to settle into a comfortable silence. his teasing smirk softened, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made your breath hitch.

his gaze was steady on yours, the smirk fading into something softer, more vulnerable. he leaned in, his breath brushing against your lips, pausing just inches away. the world seemed to slow, your heart pounding in your chest as your eyes fluttered shut.

and then it happened, his lips met yours, tentative at first, but growing surer as the seconds passed. his hand found its way to your cheek, warm and grounding, while the other rested lightly on your waist.

just as you started to lose yourself in it, he abruptly pulled away, breaking the connection as his hands fell to his sides.

his expression had shifted entirely. the vulnerability you’d seen moments ago was now overshadowed by something else, like self-doubt. he stepped back, raking a hand through his hair.

“i—“ he started, his voice strained. “i shouldn’t have done that.”

you blinked, the sudden change throwing you off. “what?”

his jaw clenched as he avoided your gaze, his fists tightening at his sides. “you don’t understand. i’m not someone who deserves this.”

“michael,” you whispered but he just shook his head.

“you think i’m someone i’m not. it you knew everything about who i really am, you wouldn’t, you wouldn’t want this. you wouldn’t want me.” his voice cracked slightly, but he quickly masked it with a bitter laugh.

“stop,” you said firmly, reaching out to him, your hand brushing against his arm. “i don’t care about whatever you think makes you undeserving. i know who you are, and i’m still here anyway.”

he finally looked at you, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to find a reason to believe you. “you don’t get it,” he said, his voice quieter now. “i don’t want to hurt you.”

“michael,” you said softly, reaching for his hand, but he pulled away before you could touch him.

“i overstayed my welcome i have to go,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, as though he wanted to say more but couldn’t bring himself to.

“huh? i don’t understand, where are you going?” your voice cracked as you watched him step back.

“i’m sorry, y/n” he said, his tone heavy with regret.

without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving you standing there, your chest tight with confusion and the ache of something left unfinished.

series MASTERLIST

notes from lily ❦⋆ : no more fever but the headaches is so bad omg 🙂

TAGLIST

@mixolya @x3nafix @96jnie @tamashithe2nd @cookielovesbook-akie @yuiearyi @noomimi @stargirljas @jhsluvv @sof888a @livelaughloveshidou @swagkittybear @axquella @passw-0-rd @hwaassaa @bbladie @tofumiarchives @justanotherweeb666 @metaphorically-here @ravenbc @levihanmyotp @rybunnie @adrnmyknight @etherealrin @shosuki @90s-belladonna @wwastro @shr00mfairy @pan-kojiwa @pctterheadd [tell me if i missed out anyone’s name]

comments & reblogs appreciated!

@ saeslove 2025 do not plagiarize, translate, or rewrite my writings without my permission !

[princesseilish]

BIG HEART

Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader

Warnings: talks about animals in captivity, slight teasing, fluff

Synopsis: Billie takes her girlfriend on a zoo date…

Billie had been excited for today. A rare free day, no work, no stress—just her and Y/N at the zoo, soaking up the sun and enjoying life. She figured it’d be a fun, carefree date. Y/N loved animals, and Billie loved watching Y/N be happy. Simple.

Except Billie had severely underestimated Y/N’s emotional attachment to animals.

They had made their way through most of the exhibits without much issue—Y/N fawning over the red pandas, giggling at the way the otters held hands, and taking a million pictures of Billie pretending to be interested in the giraffes. But when they reached the marine exhibit, specifically the orca tank, things took a turn.

Y/N stood pressed up against the glass, eyes wide, lips trembling as she watched the massive orca glide through the water in slow, lazy circles. Her fingers pressed gently to the glass, and Billie could already sense where this was going.

“Baby…” Billie started, cautiously.

Y/N sniffled, blinking rapidly. “He looks so… sad.” Her voice wobbled, and Billie sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“Babe, it’s okay,” Billie tried, placing a comforting hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “They’re taking care of him, he’s got food, and, uh… look, he’s swimming, see?”

But Y/N wasn’t buying it. She turned to Billie with glossy eyes, her bottom lip wobbling. “But, Bill, he’s meant to be in the ocean. The ocean. Not this tiny tank.”

Billie sighed, rubbing her temples. “I mean… yeah, but—”

“I can’t do this,” Y/N whispered, stepping back from the glass. “It’s not fair, Billie.”

“Baby—”

“We have to do something.”

Billie blinked. “Like what? Bust him out? You wanna go all Free Willy on me?”

Y/N shot her a glare through teary eyes. “This isn’t funny.”

Billie pressed her lips together, trying so hard not to smile at how adorably upset Y/N was. “I know, I know,” she said, wrapping an arm around her waist and steering her away from the tank. “Come on, let’s… go see the butterflies or something, huh?”

Y/N let herself be led away, still pouting. “They deserve better,” she mumbled under her breath.

Billie kissed the top of her head, grinning. “I know, baby. You have the biggest heart ever.”

As they walked toward the next exhibit, Billie made a mental note: No more zoo dates.