#and b. is a way of resting without having made a decision to rest on purpose. with the associated guilt

[karliahs]

interesting that for all the things being off social media for a week did do for me, it did not achieve the secret hidden goal I hadn't totally admitted to myself I had, of suddenly meaning that I spent all of my time super productively

I definitely did get more done! but like...in the mornings I always used to do a big scroll and catch up on my dash, and I was annoyed by how long I then took to really get going with my day. so I thought without the big scroll that'd go away. and it did get a little better, but mostly I just found that I was spending the same time after breakfast watching TV or reading or something.

which makes me go hm. maybe I just...need or like to rest a bit after breakfast? what if that was...fine?

and having accepted that, it made me realise that I go to activities like scrolling tumblr or some video games in times when I feel guilty about resting bc it blocks out thoughts better than something like TV or reading, so it distracts me from the guilt. but if I am resting On Purpose, I can just do whatever I feel like doing? and it's fine? it turns out that's fine maybe? more data required to be sure.

[swanlikely]

Current Brainrot: Brat Enabler Caleb!

Author's Note: The poll ended 50/50, so I made the executive (and very self-indulgent) decision to go with Brat Enabler Caleb! because sometimes I just wanna be spoiled, okay? Please check out the artist! (Artist & Her Ko-fi!)

not proof-read! (sorry if there are any errors - let me know and I'll fix it!)

CW: AFAB! reader, pet names, penetration, overstimulation, praise, light D/S dynamics, slight dacryphilia, and 'usage' of his bionic arm.

Caleb loves you like it’s coded into him. Like it’s in his blood, his bones, his circuitry.

He does it without effort, like breathing. Like the pulse of a machine: constant, precise, unyielding.

And he’d give you anything. Anything. Just one pout, one whimper, one soft little “Caleb, please”—and he’s dropping whatever he’s doing to hand it over. A brat’s dream. He doesn’t care if it’s indulgent or excessive or unnecessary. If you want it? You get it.

He’s always there. Cooking your favorite meals with one hand while the other; his right, sleek and gleaming with matte black plating—rests on the curve of your hip as you sit on the counter and sneak bites. That arm, the one people used to flinch at, has never once made you nervous. It’s part of him. Him, who tucks you in like you’re something breakable, who lifts you like you weigh nothing, who touches you with inhuman control and completely human care.

And right now, he’s using both hands: one warm, flesh and blood; the other cool, mechanical precision; to ruin you in the most delicious ways.

You’re spread out under him, legs trembling, body already gone boneless from orgasm after orgasm. You’ve stopped counting. It doesn’t matter. Caleb never stops at one. Or two. Or three.

His thick cock is buried in you, slow and steady, dragging against the places that make your vision flicker. One hand cradles your jaw; his real one, calloused and gentle. The other, his metal arm; is between your legs, thumb pressed to your clit, writing his name into you in soft, pretty patterns.

C. A. L. E. B.

Over and over again. Cold metal, careful pressure, devastating control.

Your skin is flushed, sticky with sweat. Your hands tremble where they grip at his broad shoulders, desperately trying to ground yourself. One of your legs is hooked over his waist, the other shaking helplessly against the mattress, every muscle twitching with the tension he’s building back up in you.

You're crying now, sobbing openly, your voice gone hoarse from how much you’ve moaned and gasped and begged. But he’s not stopping. He’s adoring. Reverent.

“Fuck Pips,” he groans, voice wrecked with how hard he’s holding back. “You’re everything.”

His thumb strokes another letter and you keen, your hips jerking. “Can’t—Caleb—too much, it’s too—”

“Yes, you can,” he coos, leaning in to kiss your parted lips. His tongue traces yours, measured and possessive, like he has all the time in the world. “You can take it. You are taking it. You always do.”

The flex of his hips deepens; calculated, but heavier now. Like he’s letting himself feel just a little more, just enough to tip you further. You feel him everywhere: inside you, against your clit, in the weight of his chest brushing yours, the tremble in his breath. He smells like sweat and heat and you. “You wanted this, remember? You asked for it. And you know I’d never say no to you.”

You grip at his back, your nails catching on the seam where flesh meets metal. He shudders; groans low in his throat, more sound than word.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, burying his face in your neck. “So pretty when you cry for me. So sweet, you were made for this. Made for me.”

You weep at the reminder—how easy it is with him. How good he is to you. The worship, the rapture, the indulgence of it all. The fact that you don’t even have to earn it. You just have to be.

His robotic hand doesn’t falter. Ever. Each movement is exactly what you need, no more, no less. Meticulous. Devoted.

You can feel it building again; your body tightening, coiling, heat spilling down your spine like liquid fire. Your walls flutter around him, desperate and close and so overstimulated. He feels it. He always does.

His voice drops into a growl, desperate and reverent all at once.

“Give it to me. C’mon, Pips—give it to me. Let me feel you fall apart.”

And you do.

You come again; shaking, sobbing, gripping him like a lifeline. Your cries fill the room, gasping and broken, and he keeps moving, keeps whispering, like your pleasure is something holy.

He was bullying your poor sloppy cunt, but in the sweetest way a man could: just enough to make it mean something, dragging it out so every pulse of pleasure felt personal. A gift he was determined to give you again and again, until you had no words left but his name.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “That’s my girl. Mine. Always.”

Only when you’ve gone limp beneath him, body completely undone, does he finally let himself go. His hips stutter, cock twitching deep inside you as he moans your name like a prayer. He stays buried, locked to you, his metal hand stroking your thigh now, pleasant and patient.

He kisses your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your swollen mouth.

“Breathe, baby,” he says softly, like he didn’t just wreck you with love and machinery and absolute, overwhelming need. “You did so good. My pretty girl.”

And even though you’re trembling, tears drying on your cheeks, the only thing you can do is nod: because it’s true.

Caleb would do anything for you. Break himself in half. Hold you together. Build you a new world with his bare hands.

And you would let him.

Because no one loves like he does.

No one ever will.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A little bit of jam [B. R.]

Bob Reynolds x fem!mutant!reader

wc: 2.5k

Marvel and I are so fucking back, baby!! I think this mass love hysteria toward Bob is the best, and I honestly wanted to play with the "found family" trope a little because I love it so much. I hope you like it!

and if u have any idea, let me know ;)

Two months had already passed.

Two months since the sky split in two, since the world almost went to hell—again—and since a dysfunctional group of dangerously competent people were thrust into the headlines as the new “heroes.” No one was sure if the title was too big or too accurate. The only clear thing was that, after surviving hell together, you had ended up sharing something more than a mission.

Now you lived in the old Avengers Tower. Together.

It wasn't an official government decision or part of any rehabilitation protocol. It just happened. Most of you didn't have a fixed place to return to, and the few who did... didn't want to return at all. So, without saying it out loud, you started staying. One night. Then a week. Then a sofa became a bed, a kitchen became a habit, and lights left on at all hours stopped seeming strange. Without seeking it, you had made it work. As if the disaster had woven an impossible routine between people who, otherwise, would never have shared more than one mission.

Nobody said it, but you knew it.

You finally, amid all that chaos, felt like you fit in somewhere. You weren’t an Avenger, you weren’t an X-Men, you were never officially from anywhere. You’d grown up far from anyone who could explain to you what to do about your mutation, and you’d spent more time evading labels than claiming them. But now… now you had a room with your name written on the door in permanent marker (thanks to Yelena), a mug for your coffee (which sometimes Alexei stole from you), and an old Bob sweatshirt that you’d sometimes find hanging on your desk chair for no reason; as if someone knew when you needed it more than you did.

So, little by little, you began to look more like a team, a real team. But also, in a way, you shared a certain familiarity that all of you definitely needed in your lives.

Weekends were occasions, without explicitly stating it, to spend time together. Sometimes you'd just gather in the living room, put on a movie, and the rest would join in, or someone would start drinking, and soon you were all doing it.

Speaking of which, that day you had decided that a few boxes of donuts wouldn't hurt you and your friends. Maybe you could even make some coffee, since with the rain that had started to fall in the city, that seemed like a good plan.

When you walked in, you could see most of them. Yelena was sitting on the floor, completely wrapped in a huge blanket, eating a bag of chips with her feet up on the coffee table. Ava was leaning against the wall, silently observing everything, her arms crossed and a neutral expression that didn't quite hide her curiosity. John Walker was flipping through a magazine upside down, clearly just pretending to read while he kept an eye on what you had brought. Alexei was snoring in the largest armchair, face up, a remote control resting on his chest, as if it were a sacred artifact. Bucky was leaning against the counter, probably making himself a drink or reviewing policy documents.

And Bob… Bob was probably in his room. You noticed he was sleeping a lot lately. Not because he was lazy, not because he was idle, but because he was carrying his own mind, his memories, The Void… exhausted him in ways the others could barely understand. So none of you blamed him for taking long naps.

“I brought donuts,” you announced, in case anyone hadn’t noticed the packages you were holding.

NO one refused the food, and even Alexei, who seemed to be asleep, got up to get a couple upon hearing your announcement. You'd bought a variety of flavors, a box of classics and some more sophisticated ones, so almost all of you sat down at the coffee table to enjoy.

You exchanged a few pleasantries, talked about things that had happened and possible future missions. At one point, when everyone had already eaten at least two pieces, you saw Walker's hand reach for the box of donuts.

Serious mistake.

“NO!” you screamed, almost like a spring.

John froze, his finger brushing the blackberry's glossy glaze.

“Why not?” he asked, offended, as if you had denied him the last glass of water on the planet.

“That one’s for Bob.”

“But Bob isn’t here.”

“But it’s for him!” you insisted, crossing your arms, as if that closed the case.

“There’s more!”

“But don’t eat that one. Eat anything else.”

“It’s my favorite!”

“Well, what a shame, there’s only one and it’s not yours.”

Suddenly, everyone seemed interested in the donut. It was a blackberry donut with vanilla glaze, a small work of art in dessert form. The fluffy, lightly browned dough was covered in a smooth, glossy glaze that smelled of natural vanilla extract, not the cheap, cloying imitation. Above the glaze, a purple swirl of homemade jam snaked like a miniature galaxy, with tiny pieces of blackberry peeking out here and there like barely revealed secrets.

“I saw it first,” he replied, his hand now closer to the box.

“DON’T TOUCH IT!”

By then, Ghost had already materialized behind John, her head peeking out from over his shoulder.

"What if I cut it into two equal parts? Half for each of you."

“I said no!” you shouted.

“Do it,” John concluded, lifting the box to give it to Ava.

Yelena, sitting on the couch, gave a curious look while she chewed her third donut with total shamelessness.

"Why don't we just hide it and see who finds it first? Like a stupid, grown-up version of a treasure hunt?"

“No one’s going to hide that donut. I already told you it’s Bob’s,” you complained, twisting around to shield the box with your body as if it were a nuclear device.

Alexei, sitting at the bar with a beer in his hand, licked his lips.

"I say the only fair solution is hand-to-hand combat. Whoever wins keeps it!"

“No!” you shouted, and Bucky joined in. However, your friends had a different opinion.

“I fight,” Ghost said.

“You didn’t even want it in the first place!”

“Me too,” Walker said, already taking off his jacket.

“I can eat it while you guys fight!” Yelena said, but you had already thrown a pillow at her with surgical precision.

The room became a chaotic choreography: Walker dodging Ava, Yelena climbing the back of the couch like a cat on sugar overload, you trying to put the box on top of the cupboard, Ghost dematerializing mid-leap.

From his position, Bucky watched you like an exhausted dad and issued a warning about not breaking any of the furniture. Alexei, at his side, was shouting to encourage the fight.

Peace only returned when a sleepy voice was heard from the hallway:

“Why are you shouting? What time is it?”

Bob peeked out, his hair a mess and his eyes still squinting from his nap. The chaos stopped. You all looked at him. And you held the box up in the air like it was a trophy.

“Take it away!”

"What?"

“Take it!” you practically ordered him.

The poor man stumbled over to you and snatched the box from you, hearing a collective sigh. You were relieved, the others were annoyed.

"What is this?"

“I bought you a donut,” you explained simply.

Then he frowned and opened the box. It was a little squashed, but the blackberry dessert was still in one piece.

Bob blinked.

“Were you all killing each other over a donut?”

Perhaps it was the incredulous tone of voice, or how ridiculous the situation sounded when said out loud, but suddenly all of you found yourself holding back a laugh. A few seconds later, laughter erupted.

“What a shitty team we are.”

“We can share it, if you want…”

"Yes!"

“No!” you shouted in unison. Bob flinched slightly at the tone of your voice. “Walker can choke on all that’s left, but that one’s for you.”

You said it in a way that left no room for argument and he smiled slightly.

“It’s my favorite.”

“That’s what I said!” John complained. However, he didn’t pursue the matter further and approached the others, taking two more donuts as a sign of resignation.

As quickly as chaos had appeared, it was gone.

Alexei occasionally expressed his approval of what had just happened, arguing that this kind of situation was an exercise in group bonding. You thought you heard Bucky call you idiots, but in a tone that made it clear he didn't mean it.

"Here"

Your murmur brought Bob out of his thoughts, and he smiled broadly when you placed a mug in his hand. It was a gift from Yelena and was inscribed with: Today is a good day. Very appropriate, in your opinion.

"Thanks”

“Two of milk and one of sugar,” you announced with satisfaction.

His happiness only increased when he realized that you were actually paying attention to him.

You plopped down next to him on the soft couch—most people's favorite when it came to a nap—and he shrank down to give you space, sitting in the lotus position as he always did.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye. That day, he was wearing a thick, slightly baggy olive-green sweater with slightly long sleeves. The color had a muted hue, like moss or old pine, which brought out the sparkle in his eyes.

There was a white T-shirt underneath, barely visible at the neck. A pair of soft, dark gray sweatpants, the kind with drawstrings and deep pockets. And on his feet, a pair of dark socks with which he glided around the tower.

He didn't look scruffy, just comfortable.

“I got scared a little while ago. I thought something bad was happening.”

You let out a soft chuckle at his confession, feeling the tension in the air melt away.

“I’m sorry we woke you up.”

“Don’t worry. At least it wasn’t in vain,” he smiled reassuringly, taking a sip of his hot drink. The steam brushed his face before he opened the dessert box and looked at him with more than just hunger.

“How did you know this was my favorite?” he asked, surprised, as he carefully turned the box over in his hands.

“You told me.”

He looked up at you, clearly confused.

“Well… you didn’t tell me directly. I heard you muttering it in your sleep.”

“Do I talk in my sleep?”

“Apparently so. And you actually answer. Because when you said I'd give you a donut, I asked you what you were talking about… and you said you wanted this one.”

"How embarrassing.”

“It’s kinda cute, if you think about it.”

The rest of the group was absorbed in their conversations, muted laughter, and the occasional impromptu board game. Between you, the air felt more intimate, softer.

Bob took a bite of the donut. The slight crackle of the glaze broke with the sound of a deep sigh, as if something inside had loosened.

“When I was a good kid, my mom used to give me money to buy one of these,” his voice lowered slightly, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he should share “It wasn’t all the time, of course. And sometimes we went together, on the… the better days, you know. I think everything seemed simpler back then.”

He was silent for a moment.

“I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately, maybe that’s why I mentioned it in my sleep.”

“Oh… I… had no idea.”

“But it's a good thing. I forgot how good it tastes” a soft, nostalgic smile spread across his face. “I always liked this flavor because it has just the right amount of sweetness, with a hint of sourness. “I feel like it’s very similar to what life is like.”

He was silent again for a second, fiddling with the napkin between his fingers.

“It’s probably not something you’re interested in, but…”

“Yes, I’m interested,” you quickly interrupted “Any story you want to tell us will interest us, Bob. There’s Alexei with all his anecdotes from his years in the service… we’ve never complained, even though he tells them over and over again.”

He laughed a little, brief but genuine.

“Do you want to try some?”

“But it’s yours”

“I'd like you to try it. It's something I want to share.”

You hesitated for only a second before accepting. You leaned closer and took a small bite from the side opposite the one he'd tried. The flavor was more intense than you expected: sweet, sour, and smooth all at the same time.

Bob watched you silently, as if observing your reactions was more important than the dessert itself. When your lips curved into a smile, he nodded, satisfied.

“It's delicious.”

“Um, you have a little bit of jam left…” he said softly, leaning slightly towards you. He raised a hand, hesitant, then pointed a finger at your lower lip “This way.”

His gaze dropped to your mouth. The air seemed to stop for a moment.

For a moment, just a moment, it seemed as if he was going to lean closer. That he was going to wipe the jam off with his lips instead of his hand.

His eyes searched yours. And then, he took a deep breath. He lowered his hand, barely brushing your chin with his fingertips, and pulled away with a shy smile.

"That's it."

You didn't say anything at first. The warmth was still there, floating in the air, unnamed.

“You should, uh, drink your coffee. Before it gets cold.”

Your friend nodded at your suggestion and after that you tried to shake the nervousness from your mind, ignoring the sting that still burned where he had touched you.

Minutes later, fatigue began to take its toll. The noise of the group became a distant murmur, almost like a lullaby in the background. Bob leaned back slightly on the couch, still holding his cup in one hand. Without thinking twice, you approached and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Do you mind if I stay like this for a while?” you asked quietly.

“No. Stay”

His words were gentle. There was something so serene about him that made you close your eyes. Your arm instinctively reached for his, wrapping it around him in a gesture that didn't ask for permission, only offered shelter.

Bob stayed still, careful with every movement, as if breathing deeply could bother you. He felt your weight against his side, your breathing slowing. The warmth of your body was unlike any blanket; it was human, alive.

He felt held, loved, in a way he hadn't known he needed so much.

The team was always affectionate toward him. Many patted him on the back, hugged him unexpectedly, or sat very close without question. But this… this was different. It wasn't a casual display of affection. It was something that asked him to stay. Something that said: you're safe here.

He looked at you once more. You were already asleep, your lips parted and your brow barely relaxed. And although the chair wasn't entirely comfortable, and the noise continued in the background, Bob didn't want to move.

Not that night.

[astraeus-tree]

Chapter 3

『The Dark Sea Gets Deeper As You Approach』

Disparities Between Our Souls You're forced to make some decisions you'd rather not do and have a bittersweet goodbye with your aunt Disclaimer(s): N/A

Chapter 2 <- Chapter 3 -> Chapter 4

The silence of the comms held countless unspoken words that piled up over the years you were gone. It was finally interrupted by Cass’s voice.

“As in our [Name?]” Her voice was full of disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Where are you. Damian could hear the urge and hope in her voice through the comms.

“I’m on a rooftop near their aunt’s house. They’ve just gone in with the other supposed-hero and the rogue.”

Finally, Damian heard the sound of Dick’s voice through the comms. “Robin, stay there and follow them if they go out. I’ll come over after dealing with some stuff in Bludhaven. Oracle, alert B when he comes back from his mission with the JL.”

“Copy.” Both Damian and Barbara replied.

“I’m coming over Robin.” Cass spoke up again, determination laced in her voice.

“Red Robin.” Dick called out.

“Yes?” Tim’s voice sounded surprised, like he had been lost in thought.

“You’re in charge of finding any information about [Name] and their partner.”

“On it.”

Throughout the whole conversation, many members of the group stayed quiet. Amongst these people was Jason Todd.

Jason had many regrets, more than he could count. Yet, one his biggest ones was his relationship with you. When you had gone missing, Jason was devastated. He was forced to confront his feelings. Forced to realise how his actions had caused you more harm than protect you, like he intended.

Those who had the misfortune of going against him the first few of your disappearance had instantly regretted it, but they did not have the pleasure of being granted mercy by the crime lord.

He thought he had finally accepted this outcome—you were gone, never to be found and you two would never have the chance to reconcile. This surprise turn of events had disrupted this mindset of his.

Jason didn’t know what to feel. On one hand, he finally had another opportunity to reconnect with you. On the other, he didn’t know how to go with his new-found chance. Clearly, you were not the same person you once were. Not the old [Name] who didn’t have any fighting knowledge. It almost made Jason laugh at how similar you and him were, but this wasn’t the time for that. He had a decision to make, to got or to not, and he had to make it quick.

The three of you of you had been at this for what seemed like hours at this point.

With such little tools and no idea why they were even broken in the first place, no progress had been made in fixing the gizmos. At times like this, you wished you were half as resourceful as Hobie Brown, but unfortunately, neither you, Miguel or you aunt were.

With it still being the middle of the night, you decided it was best for your aunt to get some rest. You did eventually persuade your aunt to go to rest, but not without some reluctance and white lies that you’d also go to sleep soon.

It was now only you and Miguel—excluding the anomaly— in the living room of your aunt’s. The silence made you uneasy, like something would pop out of the dark corners and scare you. With your adrenaline finally coming down from its high, you were left to deal with the overwhelming emotions that it left in its wake.

Mentally, you recounted the events that had occurred in just the past few hours; firstly, you were unexpectedly dropped into your home universe with no way to return to where you were before. Then, you and Miguel find an anomaly. You were ready to open the can of worms this knowledge came with so you moved on. Finally, you met your aunt after not being able to see her for 5 years, a seemingly invisible force stopping you every time you had attempted before.

So many emotions coursed through you that you honestly didn’t know how to feel.

Another problem to add to your pile was your family. You knew it was inevitable for your family to find out about you and your new identity, in fact, they probably already knew you were here, but you just weren’t ready to face them. Your habit of avoiding confrontation was always weakness of yours.

You wanted to stay away from them as much as you could. It wasn’t that you hated them, it was just that you grew to live a life without them and had almost completely forgotten what it was like to be with them and you wanted it to stay that way.

You decided to focus your thoughts back to the gizmo. This was your priority, not avoiding your family. You needed these gizmos working, stat. You and your husband had a HQ to run and an anomaly to send back to its universe.

Speaking of the HQ, hopefully it was doing alright without its leader. “Miguel, do you think the HQ is doing well?”

He nods. “Lyla’s most likely already informed the others of our disappearance. She can handle most of my responsibilities, and those that she can’t will be handled by Spiderwoman and, regrettably, spiderman.” You sighed, you knew you could trust Lyla and Jess with those responsibilities. Peter, maybe not as much, but hopefully the others will keep him in line. “Our main concern right now is to get our gizmos working again so the anomaly can be sent back.”

You felt defeated. All you had was a lack of new discoveries, useless tools and broken gizmos in your hands. Your train of though was interrupted by a familiar sound—distortion, like that of a TV. You swung your head towards the anomaly and then back to Miguel.

Shit.

You had forgotten about the glitching. You knew it was there but with so much happening, you were too busy to even remember that detail. Glitching was a painful experience, and as much as you didn’t like Doc Ock in any universe, you didn’t wish the pain of glitching upon them.

You really were on a time crunch now, unless you found a way to temporarily stop the glitching. Wait.

You did have one, and it was wrapped around your wrist right now; your gizmo. Although the portals weren’t working, you knew it still at least stopped the glitching. After all, your husband was standing perfectly fine with no glitches. As for you, this was your universe, you wouldn’t glitch at all as a native to the world.

“Should I give him my gizmo?” You stared down at the Doc Ock as you asked Miguel. His brows furrowed almost instantly at your words.

“I’m sorry? Did I hear that right mi vida?” Miguel was flabbergasted, in full doubt of your words.

“I mean, the portals aren’t working, communications are down, we’re in my universe and he’s glitching. I feel like the pros outweigh the cons right now.” You reasoned with not only him, but also yourself. You could see that Miguel was genuinely thinking through this plan of yours. You knew it was risky, but with the two main risks not working, you felt it would be fine.

Apparently, so did Miguel, as he nodded not even a minute later. “Alright.”

You took the watch off your wrist as you walked over to the Doc Ock and strapped it around his. “This’ll stop the glitching for now. Once we get back to the HQ where we can transport you back to your universe, I’ll take it back.” You spoke softly to him.

Although he couldn’t move due to Miguel’s paralysing venom, you could see his eyes light up and you took that as a thank you sign. You nodded at him before standing up again and facing your husband. “We really need to get back home soon.”

“Agreed, but we don’t have the right tools in reach to do that.” You both sighed and stayed quiet for a few seconds, letting each other try to come up with solutions. “Do you think we could go to your-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” You glared at him.

“It’s really our only option right now, corazón. Unless we suddenly had money, our only other choice is to steal. They’ll be able to help us, they’re your world’s greatest detectives, are they not?” Damn it, why did Miguel have to make such a compelling argument.

“I don’t want to talk to them though.” You saw Miguel’s demeanour soften at your mumbled words.

“I know mi corazón, but let’s think about it this way. They’ll be able to help us finish what we need to faster, and after we leave, you won’t ever have to talk with them again. Don’t you want at least some closure as well? How they felt about your disappearance?” You stayed quiet, biting your nails. Your mind was in a war with itself right now. “I’m sure they’ll be relieved to see you alive and well.”

“I hate how you’re probably right.” You slump in defeat, placing your head on his shoulders. You felt his arms wrap around you, comforting in every way and you melted into his embrace.

“I’ll be by your side the whole time. You don’t need to be worried about anything.” You clung to him tighter.

“Thank you my love. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You mumbled, words even more muffled by that fact that your head was still leaning on his shoulders.

“Yo también te amo.” You smiled at the familiar phrase.

…..

The sunrise came far quicker than you liked it to. With it came a new day with tasks you had to fulfil. One of which was the bittersweet goodbye with your aunt.

You waited anxiously for her to wake up. As you did, you walked around the house, nostalgia heavy. You stopped at the entrance of your bedroom.

Your room looked like it had remained untouched throughout the years. You remembered when you were younger, this room—the whole house, actually— was a lot more ruined, with paint peeling and bugs crawling everywhere. As much as you didn’t like Bruce, you were thankful that his money was able to grant your aunt with better living conditions.

You head a familiar pattern of footsteps approaching your room.

“Do you miss it?” Your aunt asked, voice soft.

“I do. I always miss when it was just us two.”

“Me too.” You stayed silent, it felt like she wanted to say more and you were right about that. “When you first disappeared, I was devastated, you know? I would sleep in your bed, letting my tears dry there. I was too scared to touch anything else in this room. This was all I had left of you.”

She put her hand on your shoulder, and suddenly, it felt like you were a little kid again, afraid of what the big world had in store for you. “I know you’re leaving today. Don’t worry about me darling. I know you’re alive and happy and that’s all I’ll ever need.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. She turned you around to face her and cupped your face. “Don’t cry. I’ll always be here whenever you need me.”

You held her hands gently. “I promise to have back to you auntie. I’ll find a way.” You were filled with determination. Once you made it back to the HQ, you would do everything in your power to find a way to visit your aunt without some random rogue portal.

“I’ll be here waiting for as long as that will take.” You smiled at her and she returned it. It hurt you to break apart, but you knew you eventually had to.

You walked to the living room, where your husband was and nodded at him. He stood up, understanding the message. He easily picked up the anomaly and headed towards the front door. You slowly followed, reluctant to leave this place once again, but you pushed yourself.

You turned around to see her one more time before leaving. “We’ll be going now auntie. I’ll see you again.”

“Be careful out there darling.” You smiled and nodded before walking to Miguel who was waiting outside the door. You took a deep breath and stepped outside.

Taglist (open)

@kik1010 @cxcilla @00hellohello00 @bluepanda08 @frankie-moon3 @guyfuitty @lumi320 @type-ink @kye-chen-r @sugasweettea @sillyheartmoonnyx @definitely-not-sammie @birbtweettweet @itsberrydreemurstuff @bellethesleepypotato @yaoizee @bat1212 @mybones537 @cim0nnin @ninihrtss @redkarmakai @a-lurking-fae @1abi @lettucel0ver @leeiasure @chericia @yotokx @amber-content @oscarissac2099 @awawage @k-anaru

I'm sorry for another late chapter guys 😭

This chapter gave me a lot of trouble, I can't lie. I started getting writer's block and then I started hating my writing so that was fun

I'm also starting to regret starting this story without a proper plot so we'll see how that goes lmao

Also, most of Batfam finally makes their appearance, yippee!!

Anyways, I watched AOT: The Last Attack in the cinema yesterday and oml I was sobbing the whole way through. I won't spoil anything just in case some of ya'll watch it but it was just so sad

As usual, mistakes are free to point out! They will be fixed as soon as possible

This week's song comes from the English translation of Black Sorrow from Alien Stage

Have a great day/night everyone! <3

[novemberheart]

{overview} You bond with both your alphas— the topic of your heat comes up again

{warnings} fem reader, poly141, a/b/o dynamics, cursing, backstories, things get a bit heated between you and John

Chapter 20 <- Chapter 21 -> Chapter 22

“You went out for what?” John huffed, sitting across from Kyle.

“A walk, sir,” Kyle replied, his eyes straight ahead. He had already mentally prepared for this.

“And you come back with”- he trailed off.

“A puppy, sir,” Kyle was trying to bite back a smile. It wasn't that he wasn't afraid of the captain- he was. It was the image of your happy face in his brain that was causing the battle in his mind. The truth was he wasn't sorry, he would get yelled at every day if it meant you being happy. John groaned, recognizing the dazed look in his beta eyes. He must still have happy omega clouding his brain.

“Dismissed,” he groaned again, leaning back in his seat.

“Love you, Cap,” Kyle shouted over his shoulder bolting down the hall towards the small backyard.

Your puppy- Vernie (for Inverness) as she had been renamed, wasn't blind. She did appear to be deaf, though.

Simon insisted she was just stubborn like you.

“You two kind of look alike,” Johnny smirked, waving his finger in front of the puppy’s snapping mouth. You giggled, scooping the excited pup off the floor. She licked your chin, nuzzling her way against your neck.

“It's the eyes,” Simon commented. Johnny and Kyle nodded in agreement, and each of their camera rolls filled with enough pictures of your puppy dog eyes to prove it.

“Well I take that as a compliment,” you grinned, setting her back down. “Go to Daddy Kyle,” you urged.

“How come he's daddy?” Johnny shot.

“I was with her when we got her,” Kyle reminded, picking the golden retriever puppy up. “When we see Uncle Johnny we what?” Kyle whispered to her. “We growl, that's right! Good dog,” he praised.

You giggled making your way back inside for a bowl of water. You bit your lip as you noticed John sitting at the dining table, deep in thought. You crept over, your hand resting on his shoulder.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted, grabbing a hold of your hand and kissing your palm.

“You're not too mad, are you?” you pressed. He pulled you over so you were sitting in front of him, guiding you so you were sitting on his leg.

“You happy?” he hummed. You quickly nodded your head, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. “Then no,” he smiled just enough to where his dimples poked through. You grinned, resting yourself against his chest. “Wish it was more of a group decision, but”- he cut himself off.

“The next time I get a pet I'll make sure to run it by everyone,” you smirked. You jumped when a hand collided with your bottom. It wasn't hard, but it definitely caught you off guard. He chuckled at you.

“Only goldfish from now on, yes?”

“Yes, sir,”

“Come on pup,” you jumped at Simon’s voice. He had the tendency to just appear out of nowhere. Years are training you suppose.

“Where are we going?” you questioned pulling your shoes on.

“Errands,” he responded coldly.

“Could you be any more vague, Simon?” you questioned.

“Maybe.” he replied, causing you to chuckle. As the two of you walked down the street a sudden craving formed in your head. An urge to test the waters. Your hand reached up, gripping onto his forearm as you walked. He made no move to brush you off, actually his body shifted closer, so your arm didn't have to extend so far.

It was weird seeing him outside without his mask. He blended in with the crowd even with his hulking frame.

He led you into a shoe store.

“Simon you don't need to do this,” you began, your chest growing warm.

“I want to,” he pressed.

“Thank you,” you beamed. He rolled his eyes at you, patting you on the hip.

“I'll stay here,” he groaned, sitting down on one of the try on benches. “You stay where I can see you. You're still on parole,” he grumbled. You giggled, heading towards an aisle.

You ended up with four pairs. A pair of dress shoes, a pair of workout shoes, a pair of casual shoes, and rain boots because Simon was tired of the entryway smelling like “wet feet” every time it rained. “Thank you, Simon,” it was around the tenth time you had thanked him, but it was important for him to know how much you appreciated it. He carried the large bag for you and you were surprised when he began walking even further away from the house. “I need lunch after that,” he sighed. Your stomach growled in response. You two ended up in a Chinese restaurant, the smell drawing you in from a few streets over.

“Do you ever miss Manchester?” you asked between bites.

“You ever miss the toilet when you leave?” he shot back. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Was it really that bad?”

“No.” he agreed. “Reminds me of my father though,” he conversed. You suddenly felt favored to be a part of this conversation. Simon Riley was opening up.

“I take it that's a bad thing,” you urged. He nodded his head.

“Piece of shite that one. He was a beta, my mom was an alpha. Spent the rest of his days trying to prove he was the strongest,” Simon shared.

“Did they both pass away?”

“He died from cancer. She lived just fine for another five years. Passed away from untreated pneumonia.”

“That's terrible Simon,” you breathed. “She sounds like a strong woman. I mean she has to be, her son is strong,” you affirmed. You wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him but your words had hit him, deep. It's all he wanted. To be half as good of an alpha as she was. She was strong, loyal, protective, and loving to those who were hers. John reminded him of her in a lot of ways.

“She was, pup,” Simon finally responded. “She’d like you,” he added softly. You blinked back some tears, shifting in your seat. “What about your father?” he asked suddenly.

“He and my mother were both betas, both of them coming from a long line of alpha-omega pairings. We were kind of the odd ones out of the family. It didn't matter much to us though. We were all close, especially with me being the only child,” you paused, your lunch suddenly looking unappealing.

“It was a shock when your mom left?”

You swallowed, nodding your head.

“She came into my bedroom that night and just held me. I'm not sure when she left. My dad was so angry. I didn't know what to do, so I just curled up in her closet with the clothes she had left behind. My dad moved on quickly- I feel like it was just out of spite,” you sneered.

“What was she like?”

“She wasn't horrible. She just wasn't my mom. I never really talked to her honestly. I just couldn't wrap my head around seeing her stuff where my mom's stuff used to be. Her curling iron on the bathroom counter, her silverware in the drawer, her couch in the living room- her pictures on the wall. The worst part was she had five kids from a previous relationship. I had to share a room with three of them. I started having a hard time breathing. I even passed out a few times. My grandparents decided to step in and suggested I get put into an omega-holding house. By then, I was so desperate to get away I begged my father to let me go. I think that hurt him more than he ever let on. I lived in that omega house for a year until I was transferred across the country to a different one. I haven't seen any of them since,” you finished. You looked away from your plate. Simon had his arms crossed over the table, his eyes intently on you.

He hated it. Hated the way you had been left in the dirt. You didn't deserve that.

“That's not fair, sweetheart,” he said softly. The tears finally escaped, his thumb reaching out to brush them away before you could.

“It's alright,” you tried to smile, sniffling into your sleeve. He understood you more. He realized the parts of you that drove him crazy were the parts that so deeply resembled himself. You were still in fight or flight mode. Still waiting for the moment you would have to take off into the wind. Still waiting for the moment you would be peeled away from this pack like your old one. He wished he understood it sooner, but he's not sure it would've had such an impact on him.

He was no longer in fight or flight mode, his mind dead set on one: fight. Fight for you to feel safe within this pack- within your pack.

You were a bit nervous to sleep in the same room as both the alphas. At first, you tried to sneak your way into the beta’s room, but John quickly hoisted you over his shoulder, tossing you on the bed. The scent was slightly overwhelming, turning your bones to mush. Simon was still in the shower, and you were curled up on John’s chest, his hands running up and down your thighs.

The conversation you had with Simon was still weighing on your mind. It must've spread into your scent.

“What's eatin’ at you, love?” John hummed, his hands giving your thighs a squeeze.

“Me and Simon were talking about our old packs. It just brought up some feelings,” you mumbled, taking a large inhale of his scent. It settled at the base of your neck, causing a warm buzz throughout your body. “What was your pack like?” you questioned, resting your chin against his chest.

“It was big,” he sighed, his tired blue eyes dancing over your face. “Too big. Lots of power struggles between alphas.”

“That why you left?”

“Partly. My family was pushed around a lot, my father is a good man, but he isn’t strong. I hoped joining the military would make it so that when I went back I could prove our family was strong,” he sighed. You knew what John was talking about.

“Communal pack?”

He nodded his head. Communal packs were very traditional and rarely worked. There could be up to thirty different families living together under the jurisdiction of one alpha.

“What was your alpha like?”

“I never met him,” John chuckled. “He seemed decent enough, though. It was hard for the other alphas of the pack, you know how they are, have to be the toughest in the room. My family still lives there, two of my sisters have bonded and have pups of their own. My brother is still causin’ trouble,” he chuckled fondly and your heart ached for him.

“Do you ever miss it?”

“I miss them. We still see each other a few times a year. My eldest sister and I see each other the most. Her work brings her near base. And I have to call my mother at least once a week or she’ll march up here and give me what for,” he smirked, making you giggle. “I'd like you to meet them someday.”

“I would love to!” you cheered beaming up at him.

“They’ll love you. Probably want us to move back up there.”

“Are any of them omegas?” you pondered.

“My brother is. My eldest sister is an alpha and my two others are betas,” he explained.

“That's a nice spread,” you smiled, stretching out on top of him. You wondered what John was like as a child. Was he always so headstrong? Protective? Determined? Troublemaker? The thought made you chuckle.

“Would you? Move back there?”

“Never. It's just like base, except there are fewer rules and regulations. Not the place for you or the rest of us,” he explained. “Where would you want to live?” he hummed, rolling onto his side, keeping a firm grip on you.

“Somewhere with trees and rain. I want to be near the mountains. I also want to live near a big city so there's always something to do. Oh, and I want a big backyard with chickens and a pool,” you smiled, your fingers smoothing over his beard. His cheeks lifted in a smile.

“Sounds doable,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against your cheek. He let your noses brush, smiling at the way you're crinkled. He closed the gap, his strong arms holding you in place as your lips moved together.

They all kissed so differently. Johnny was all-consuming, his ability to make the thoughts in your head vanish never fails. Even his short ones were eager and overwhelming. Kyle was playful. Lots of teeth and tongue, but never enough to fully satiate you until you yank him as close as you can. Maybe that's why he does it. He wants you to want him. Lucky for him you fall into that trap regularly. John’s were melting. Slow and passionate. He isn’t playful or eager. All of his attention is on you and the rest of the world just fades away.

You wondered how Simon kisses.

John’s hands were messing with the bottom of your sleep shorts. They crept up slowly, giving your bottom a gentle squeeze causing you to gasp. He chuckled against you, his tongue taking advantage.

Maybe he was a little playful.

You had to get him back. You thought back to the little trick Kyle showed you. Your hands bunched around his lower back, and you rolled your hips against his. He cursed against you, pressing you deeper into the mattress.

“Careful what you wish for, honey” he warned, biting at your neck. You whined, tilting your head back even further. The subtle act of submission making his head reel. He kissed and bit his way around your neck until he made it near your collarbone. You became breathless at the knowledge of what he was doing. He was trying to find the best place to mark you. He could tell he found it when you nearly moaned. Just above your collarbone right in the junction of your neck. “That where you want it, pretty girl?” he murmured. You nodded your head rapidly.

“Now, please Alpha,” you begged. If he was a weaker man he would've given in. Your shaky voice, heated skin and needy scent in the air were all suffocating his senses. You're lucky he's had so much training or else you would be howling in pain right now.

“No, pretty,” he soothed, placing another kiss against the spot- a promise that he would be back. “Can't do it now, it'll hurt,” he reminded

“You marked Kyle and Johnny,” you reminded. Betas couldn't have heats or ruts, so when they were marked it was searing.

“They were under anesthetics,” he shot back. Even you couldn't argue with that. The bathroom door opened.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon grunted waving the air in front of his face. You giggled, cuddling your way into John’s chest again.

“Simon took me on a date today,” you whispered to John. He raised his eyebrows, playing along.

“Must've been a different one,” he smirked, looking up at the brooding alpha.

“No, it was this one. He was a perfect gentleman. He opened the door for me, he let me hold his arm, he paid for my lunch and he even bought me new shoes,” you grinned, looking back at the flushed Simon.

“Sounds like a great bloke. Should call him back,” Simon replied, getting under the covers. You and John chuckled, as he shut the lamp on the bedside table off.

“He is great,” you whispered absentmindedly, a yawn escaping you. “I do appreciate the two of you, you know. There aren't a lot of alphas that would be as patient and forgiving as the two of you,” you thanked. John’s chest rumbled at the sentiment.

“Of course, honey,” John rumbled. Simon stayed silent. He didn't quite feel he deserved such praise. He had made too many mistakes. He jumped as a cold hand rested against his bicep. You could be sneaky when you wanted to. You made no move to pull him closer or grab another part of him. He sighed grabbing your hand in his, clamping your hand within his own, resting it against the bed.

The sound of your purrs lulled him to sleep.

You woke up to the sound of groggy groans and chuckles. You could feel yourself moving until your face was pressed against a bare chest. Cinnamon.

“Mac,” you groaned. You felt someone else’s smile against your shoulder and the tickle of Johnny’s scruff against your cheek. You opened your eyes, pulling away from Johnny.

“Good morning, peaches,” he purred all too happy for this early in the morning. Your face pulled into a frown making him and John chuckle from their spot. He pressed a kiss against your lips as you sat up, your legs on either side of his hip. He groaned, his hand instantly finding your hips. You were in the middle, Johnny resting against John. Kyle was back to back with Simon, who looked to still be asleep. You yawned rubbing at your eyes.

“We were thinking we could all go to breakfast,” Kyle spoke, nudging the alpha next to him awake. One thing you learned about the boys is that none of them were into cooking. John seemed to be decent at it- well at least he was good at cooking steaks. Kyle survived off of cereal and Johnny could kill a box of granola bars in a day.

“French toast,” you sighed happily, flopping back down onto the Scot. While the plans had been made no one made an effort to move. It was all too comfortable. Too warm. You purred, causing almost all of them to follow suit. Simon clenched his jaw, swallowing back the rumble in his chest.

You giggled, Johnny's chest vibrating against your skin.

“I'll fall back asleep if I stay here,” Kyle yawned, maneuvering his way out the bed. Simon tumbled out of it too, his arms stretching above his head. His tank top did nothing to hide his flexing muscles. Johnny pulled away, regretfully, heading back down the hall to his room. The chill in the air nipped at you, causing you to cuddle your way back against John.

“We’re going to get in trouble if we don't start getting ready,” he hummed gently, his hand running down your back.

“I’m getting up,” you assured, making no move to do so. He patted your bottom, sitting up with you still in his arms.

“French toast,” he reminded, pulling you to your feet. You perked up.

“John?”

“Yes, love.”

“When we get back can I talk to you about something?” you questioned. You regretted it as soon as you watched his face turn. You hated it when people did that. Just say what you are thinking.

“Tell me now, love. I’ll go with you to the backyard,” he said, watching as you grabbed the half-asleep puppy out of the bed Johnny had made her.

“Alright,” you agreed, treading down the hallway. He grabbed a cigar on the way, making sure to sit downwind from you so you would breathe it in.

“It's about my heat,” you started. “I want you to help me through it,” you flushed heavily, your face burning so hot the nip in the air couldn't cool it. “I don't know if I'm ready for everyone to help though,” you drew out. He chuckled next to you causing your head to shoot up. God, you have embarrassed yourself haven't you?

“Sorry, honey,” he apologized quickly. “That would be like throwin’ a lamb to the wolves. Wouldn't expect you to do all that,” he assured, making your shoulders relax. His hand reached out his fingers brushing against your cheek. “It would be my honor to help you, sweetheart,” he whispered, making you burn brighter.

“That’s a stretch,” you chuckled. Honor? Surely he had done much more honorable things than take your virginity.

“It's not. It means you trust me. That's all I want, love,” he smiled reassuringly in a way that made your heart beat a bit faster.

“Thanks, John,” you pressed a kiss against his cheek, collecting the curious pup off the grass.

Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Chapter 22 will be in two days and I’m going to warn you now it WILL have heavy smut……hopefully none of you are against that! See you then 🧡

[onlyyoucanhurtlikethis]

Now we can talk like adults. - kylian mbappe, one shot

You’re still standing by the dresser, pulling your hair back loosely, skin warm from your nighttime routine. The overhead light is off; only the low amber glow from the bedside lamp hums in the room. He’s already in bed—one arm tucked under his head, the other stretched out like it’s waiting for you, like it always is.

You don’t look at him at first. You know that if you do, he’ll smirk.

“Were you serious earlier?”

His voice is unhurried, deep from the pillows.

“Serious about what?”

You twist the cap back on your moisturizer.

“About thinking I’m still deciding.”

There’s a pause. Not defensive—bemused.

“No. I’m not that delusional.”

You glance over. He’s watching you like you’re a slow-burn film. Not in a hurry to finish—just enjoying every second of it.

“You wear my ring when you shower,” he says. “You wear it when you type, when you argue, when you’re ignoring me. You hold onto it when you sleep. I know where your decision stands.”

“Then why say it like that?”

“Because sometimes I like watching your face when you correct me.”

You blink at him.

He adds, shamelessly,

“It’s a little erotic.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you like it.”

You bite back a smile. It’s easier not to answer.

“I decided a long time ago,” you say, quieter now.

He just watches you for a moment, then shifts slightly, lifting the blanket and patting his lap without a word.

“Really?” you ask, dry. “You want to have a strategy meeting in bed?”

“I want to see your face while you give me updates on our lifelong union. You standing over there makes it feel like a press conference.”

“You’re exhausting.”

“And you look well-rested. So get over here.”

You climb into bed, slow, deliberate. Like it’s a ceremony. He adjusts easily, pulling you across his lap until your knees settle on either side of him.

His hands rest on your thighs. Casual. Warm. Unmoving.

“There,” he murmurs. “Now we can talk like adults.”

“We are adults.”

“Debatable. You hide affection like it’s a contraband item.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And you kiss my ankle when I’m asleep. Who’s the menace?”

“Me,” he says easily. “And you’re the one who said yes.”

“Twice,” you clarify.

“Just making sure you’re keeping score.”

You sigh dramatically. He grins.

“You never told me I was too much,” he says suddenly. The smirk fades into something softer. “Even when I knew I was.”

You look at him. Really look.

“You’re not too much,” you say. “You’re just full.”

That makes him blink.

“Full?”

“Of everything. Thought. Feeling. Want. It doesn’t scare me.”

His thumbs move slightly where they rest on your thighs. Like they needed something to do after that sentence.

“You used to,” you admit. “Before I knew what to do with all of it.”

“And now?”

“Now I want to memorize it.”

He doesn’t kiss you yet. Just looks.

“You’re not afraid of me?”

“I’m the only person who isn’t.”

That one lands hard. You feel it in the way his jaw shifts, just a little. Like you hit a pressure point.

You soften your voice.

“You know… I used to think I was just boring. Quiet. Like I was made to be background noise.”

“No,” he says firmly, shaking his head before you even finish. “No, don’t say that.”

“I’m not,” you reassure. “I just mean—I wasn’t wrong. I am quiet. But maybe I’m the exact kind of quiet your life needed.”

“You are.”

“Turns out, I wasn’t too slow. I just hadn’t met anyone worth slowing down for.”

His voice cracks the silence like velvet:

“Why do you say shit like that when I’m already planning to propose again?”

You smile into his chest. Your voice is muffled when you reply,

“Because I like watching your face when you melt.”

He groans dramatically.

“You are so annoying. Sexy. But annoying.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“I’m yours,” he says, low. “That’s what I am.”

And then finally, finally, he kisses you—soft and solid, a palm against your cheek, his forehead pressed to yours like he’s anchoring you both to the room.

You whisper,

“You don’t need to prove anything.”

He kisses your temple.

“I know. But I still want to.”

There’s no performance in the moment. Just presence. Familiar, loaded, sweet.

He holds you.

You stay.

And somewhere in the quiet between your heartbeat and his breath, the only truth that matters lands fully:

This love? It’s mutual madness.

But finally… finally, you both feel safe in it.

[starliasolemn]

Burn N.R

— Part One

|| next part ||

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: Natasha thought of you a ghost, a section of her past that escaped from the things she never could. When you’re found, she realises she’s not remembered as anything to you.

warnings: violence, torture, subtle hints of SA

wc: 3141

*this is my first time posting on tumblr lolz, please ignore any mistakes with layout etc.🤍

☆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Cold eyes bore into the wall in front you, your neck straining to stay upright, despite the tug in your mind to let yourself rest.

The room they kept you in was silent, without a shred of light peeping in through any of the cracks implanted into the brick walls surrounding you. You were sure there was some form of cleft left in the wall behind your head considering how often your body had drooped the slightest inch forward before you slammed it back against the wall in precaution that you’d miss someone coming in.

You reckoned it had been about thirty hours since you were thrown into the room. Not that you would know for certain, the red room most definitely didn’t prioritise clocks for their solitary rooms. Still, you had been keeping some sort of internal stopwatch wearing on in your mind.

Your tattered ballet slippers were still on your feet, the silky ribbons Natalia had tied so delicately for you the morning before were contrasting harshly against the blue and black bruising that emerged from underneath. You didn’t have it in yourself to take them off, the consistent pressure that pushed against your injuries was steadying in a way that you couldn’t explain. You didn’t dote on it too much.

The steel shackles on your ankles provided the opposite comfort. Their weight dragged you down to the floor, in such a way that you worried you might just be pulled down to the core of the earth, into a fiery hell that you didn’t imagine to be too different to the one you were enduring now.

A sharp inhale was the first sound your silent body had made in those thirty hours other than the secure thump of your skull hitting concrete every time your body slipped.

The cold air hit you first. Russian winters were not something to be reckoned with. The goosebumps ran up your bare arm until they countered the thin strap of your worn leotard, where they stopped. Your eyes had snapped immediately from the dusky wall in front of you to the door where the light was now coming from.

A figure stood in the doorway, their shoulders perfectly level with the base of their neck. The volatile wind whisked itself through the air outside and the short hair of the person standing in front of you traced the breeze’s peculiar path.

You couldn’t see their face. The lightness that shone in from the winter forest outside illuminated the large box you were in and your eyes twitched slightly at the cold air that whipped your face.

You didn’t move.

Neither did he.

You kept your body still, eyes trained onto the being in front of you, and you prayed for your eyes to adjust enough to see who this was. It wasn’t someone you recognised. Not Dreykov, not Madame B., certainly not Natalia. The frame was too built to be one of your peers.

It couldn’t be one of the guards, Dreykov restricted any access among his staff to his ‘divine gift’, as he called you.

“вставать.”

Get up.

Not one of your muscles moved. You saw the slight bump in his jaw as he clenched it, the darkness of his face contrasting greatly against the white snow adorning the bitter winter paradise outside the door.

“вставать.”

Get up.

There was a beat of silence as you considered the urgency in his tone, however any decision you were going to make was stripped from your hands when the man took heavy steps towards your body that was still chained to the back of the room. Your spine straightened on instinct and your hands, that remained free, pushed against the cool floor beneath you as you attempted to push yourself into a position that was less submissive than the one you’d been in on the floor.

You stood just in time to meet face to face with the man—albeit your head was tilted upwards, however your eyes stared deeply into his. You recognised the reticent look in his own when he held your gaze.

“подходить.”

Come.

His gloved hands gripped your arm tightly and the cold snow that had been on his gloves pressed against your skin until you were sore. He turned and attempted to march towards the opening of your margin, but before he could your left hand came down heavily on his own.

You and Natalia tied at the top of your class. You fought strong, and defended stronger. You’d been sent on a series of missions already, most in isolation, and had succeeded in each of them. Your tough will is what made Dreykov praise you so.

Sometimes, your strong will willed for you to become weak so you could avoid his praise.

Your body count had already risen dozens before you had the chance to hit eighteen, victims rising from fellow students and strangers alike. You were strong.

Regardless, the second your skin made contact with the arm of the stranger who had his grip on you, you released a sound of weakness. The pain shot through your arm, ringing through the muscles as your eyes flashed up to his.

He was quick to backhand you, using his free limb to whip your face backwards whilst his other tightened around your arm.

“подходить.”

Come.

His voice was stiffer now, rising from the back of his throat. Your eyes flickered down to the chains that wrapped around your ankles for less than half a second before you focused back on him. His gaze followed your wordless hint. His hand slid away from your arm, the redness of both his grip and the freezing snow now furbishing your skin, and he bent down.

You watched with a tinkle of curiosity spreading through your body when he grappled the shackle around one of your ankles with both hands before tearing it apart. Your face remained steady, however your mind was running a million miles an hour.

He did the same with the other ankle before he stood up to tower over you. His hand met your bicep once again, although slightly less tight than it had been when you struck him.

Your slipper sank into the soft snow beneath your feet when you stepped outside, however you weren’t granted any time to appreciate the normally refreshing sensation. You already had a plan in mind, you had since the second the door opened. You’d been taught how to use someone’s strength against them, and from what you’d witnessed of this man so far, you had a lot of strength to work with.

You peered around the almost desolate area until your gaze fixed onto the dark building that stood a few hundred feet away from you. You pictured Natalia in there, and if you imagined hard enough, you could see her red hair distinct against both the white snow and the dark bricks. Your heart warmed at the thought for only a second before you snapped your sight back in front of you, where the bulky man was stomping through the snow.

He hadn’t looked back at you once, so you still hadn’t seen his face although you could now see the pale skin of his neck and the dark locks that twisted down the back of it. He was walking you away from the red room, heading towards the densely wooded forest that stretched for miles and you wondered where he could possibly be taking you.

It was clear that this man was not from the red room.

You stayed silent as you approached the woods, and the second you two stepped into the shaded area, you struck.

You grabbed the wrist that was holding your arm with your free hand and used it to push your body sideways until your legs hit against his chest. He grunted and took a half step back, grazing his back against a tree before he tightened the grip that remained on your upper arm and used his other arm to twist you away from him.

His hand reached out to strike against you, but you were quicker. You jumped, bracing yourself against his body, thighs wrapped around his hips, before ripping your hand into his hair. You swung it back against the tree in a way that wasn’t unfamiliar to you, although the failure of unconsciousness was a surprise.

His hands wrapped around your back until they had a harsh grip against your shoulders, from which he tore you away from him. You landed with an undignified grunt when your back hit the ground beneath you, the velvety snow not softening the brute force of which the man threw you at.

He stepped over your body, his cloudy eyes looking at you for a split-second too long. You bounced up, throwing any hits you can get, putting the man onto defence.

Just as you believed you were getting the upper hand, his fist caught yours. His other hand caught your free wrist and held it to the side whilst his grip on your fist tightened. You attempted to flail your legs towards him, however he had you pushed against a tree before you could blink, body pressing against yours. His head remained close enough for you to study his face, his brown eyes glaring into yours, but far enough away that you couldn’t headbutt him.

His stare hardened further — if that was possible — and his fist began to tighten. You grit your teeth together but his administrations never stopped.

You heard the first sickening crunch of your knuckle as he squeezed. It was a slow, cruel action that dragged the pain through your arm as each knuckle popped, your fingers curling into themselves as their bones split.

A whimper rose from the back of your throat and just when you believed it couldn’t get worse, at his final clench, your wrist folded in on itself.

His hand left the end of your crushed limb to dangle itself by your side as he reached for your neck. You tilted your head towards him, not yet letting the fight part from your body, however his face loomed closer as your airway was slowly squeezed.

Your body was already a lighter shade of your average skin tone and the blue was creeping its way up from the tips of your toes as the minus temperatures of Russia's atmosphere set into your body. You were still clad in the tight ballet leotard that you’d put on in time for your lesson, the lesson that had led you to be shunned into the concrete building that you’d looked out at so many times. It wasn’t near your first time in solitary confinement, and when you were dragged on your knees by the two guards towards the infrastructure, you were sure that it wouldn’t be your last.

Now you couldn’t be certain. You felt his grip tighten and wondered if he would do the same to your neck that he had done to your hand.

Why would someone creep you away to simply kill you less than fifty feet away from where you’d been taken?

You were a strong fighter, no doubt. You’d held your own against men taller and bigger than this one. But above all else, you were smart. Certainly smart enough to know that any attempt of hurting this man had been torn from your grasp before you’d ever gotten a hold on it.

As black spots filled the corners of your vision and your blinks grew weaker, the man leaned in close until his lips grazed against the edge of your ear.

“Hail HYDRA”

-

Bitter water dripped coldly down your back, drops hanging onto the ends of your hair for just a second before gravity pulled them further. The shower head spat its water into your face, and you embraced it. You weren’t granted the relief of a shower often — after all it’s not as though HYDRA prioritised your well-being over.. well, anything.

The water stung against the burns that adorned your ankles, although you could feel the fiery feeling distancing itself away from you as the liquid splashed against your defects. Your vision dragged itself down to the bottom of your legs in a cruel curiosity to discover what exactly they’d done to you.

You never truly escaped the chains that seemed to sneak their way into every period of your life. Thick shackles covered your ankles in a tight grip, weighing you down to the ground with strength that was definitely not needed for a girl of your age, every living hour you were breathing. The restraints had been loosened only a handful of times over the duration of your lengthy stay here. Each time that you were trusted for a mission.

You’d accomplished every goal set for you, of course you had. Killings were what you were good at, becoming a weapon without a face, channeling your anger into something brutal, although the emotion never truly faded.

Anger acted as a forefront to the rest of your sympathies. Despondency had filled your body for as long as you could remember. Exhaustion seeped into your joints with the lack of a constant in your life causing you to continuously adapt. Disgust cursed your mind at the volume of self-awareness you contained.

And empathy.

Empathy was but an injustice to your way of life. It percolates your skin, seeping in through your fingertips concurrent to the warm sanguineous fluid that stains your clothing scarlet. It racks through your body at nighttime, the cool chains serving as a heavy reminder to the burden you are.

Faces were never distinct for you. Their cries and bellows leaked into deaf ears. The meaningless defence that scratched at you wouldn’t even count as a scar.

But, God, did the defeated slump against your body stick. The stillness of their movements was when it clocked for you, the soul that was dispersed into the very air that was suddenly suffocating you from the inside out. You could never hesitate, not even linger for a moment to wish a form of apology onto the cooling body that lay on the ground.

But at night time, you allowed yourself to breathe and acknowledge the being you had stripped from this world.

‘Empathy is what makes you human,’ Natalia had reminded you gently every time you’d slumped into her arms when the guilt pierced your skin a little too hard.

‘Being human is what makes me feel nothing,’ you replied.

‘Feeling nothing occurs when you feel too many things at once,’ The tame stroking of your hair stopped momentarily in time for Natalia to press her lips to your temple. ‘Your body is simply protecting you from an override in your mind.’

The blisters on your ankles protrude from your leg grotesquely, the thick white skin a memory of the burning sensation they’d cast on you. The blaze of flames had creeped their way through the iron of the chains until they’d reached your shackles, heating up the skin to an unbearable amount.

It was a ritual, you’d realised, within the first six months of your stay. You believed in the beginning they were attempting to train you, ensure that you would perform as an ideal soldier, however after the first three successful missions, you recognised the sadistic pleasure that your captors gained from this continuous torment.

The electroconvulsive shocks made you yell, attempting to thrash your arms around in a desperate endeavour to escape the steady brainwashing they were grooming into you. The beatings that bruised you when you acted out caused you to grit your teeth, your stare steady on the perpetrator. But the slow, growing burn of the steel made you twist, quiet whines escaping your lips while your hands burned themselves as they desperately attempted to pull the shackles over your heel.

It was impossible, you’d known that from the second you woke up, half-dazed, eleven months ago. In the red room, you could get out of the handcuffs they used to trap you to your bed with practiced ease. Here, wherever the hell you were, some HYDRA base lost in nowhere, the chains stuck to your ankles. No matter how you dislocated the joint, even breaking the bone, it would be impossible to shatter the tether that bonded you so close to the torture method.

The water made a sputtering sound before it turned off completely and your head snapped towards the bathroom door.

“Время истекло.”

Time is up.

You withheld a sigh at the interruption to your limited moment of physical peace, using the rugged grey towel to dry your body before you changed. The door swung open and you stepped out, following the armed guard down the seemingly endless hallways. You felt the presence of two other guards joining from behind and you had an inkling on where they were taking you.

It had been a month since you were last shocked, and your memories were trickling in slowly to your head. A certain redhead was always the first thought to come back, though her name was long lost to the veins of electricity.

After each event, you could feel a chunk of your memories that wouldn’t come back. You willed yourself to remember, but every time you thought too hard, a persistent headache would echo around your mind. You felt yourself slipping away and you knew that they were edging closer to the exact stage they wanted your mind in.

The two guards behind you approached quickly and you didn’t bother to fight. The first few times you did, you conquered the surrounding guards before hundreds more poured out from each door, lasers pointed at your chest from every direction. The cruciation those nights seared your skin until a loss of consciousness, and you weren’t eager to counter it again.

You were brought into the room with that all-too-familiar chair sitting before you and you were strapped in before you could blink. A man you’d come to recognise approached from the shadows, his dusty blonde hair clashing with his grey sideburns. He loomed over you, his gaze piercing yours.

“Prep her,” he muttered, and the soldiers around you moved hastily. “Wipe out and start over. She’s almost ready.”

The screams ricocheted off of the four walls, bouncing between every surface until they penetrated your own two ears.

Your terrorised exclaims eventually subsided after the burning sensation had finally stopped and you were left to reel from the torture.

“тоска.”

Yearning.

“хрупкий.”

Fragile.

“ожог.”

Burn.

“лунный свет.”

Moonlight.

“восемьдесят пять.”

Eighty-five.

“нежный.”

Gentle.

“девять.”

Nine.

“доступ.”

Access.

“один.”

One.

“Белоснежка.”

Snow White.

Your eyes drooped low and the frail finger of the older man touched your chin. You looked up, meeting his expecting gaze as he stared down at you.

“Я готов отвечать.”

Ready to comply.

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter One

I finally have a first chapter out! Finally!! It's a bit shorter than I wanted it to be, but like it's here after so long, so I'm happy with it! Plus we get some angry boys in this fic

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader Summary: Ateez wc: 1.4k AU: a/b/o Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: Angry Joongie/ateez, yelling, mentions of anxiety and fear, angst with some fluff, honestly just the boys are pissed off but mostly it's Hongjoong being royally pissed, I think taht's everything? masterlist

“What do you mean we need another member?!” Hongjoong asked the KQ management team members in front of him.

“We’ve decided that you need something new to add to the group, and that a new member will be the best choice to attract more attention to Ateez.” One of the higher up staff members replied.

“We’ve been fine for five years, why do we need another member?” The captain asked through gritted teeth.

“Look, the decision has been made, there’s nothing more to say. You and the rest of the members will have to prepare to have a new member.” They said, a tone of finality marking the end of the conversation.

“So we’re supposed to just accept whoever the fuck you find into the group, and potentially our pack, without any say?!” Hongjoong exclaimed, fed up with the group of people in front of him at the moment. They really thought they could just spring this news on him and he’d be fine with it?

“It’s in the best interests for Ateez.” Was all that was said, as if it was a sufficient explanation in any way for the upheaval of the status quo for Ateez.

Hongjoong pushed his chair back, standing up and leaving the room quickly, trying to keep his temper under control. Who did they think they were? Ateez had done so much for this company and now they’re haphazardly adding a new member into his group. This changed everything. They’d had to readjust the choreography, the lines for every song, any of the concepts they’ve come up with now have to be adjusted. He stormed into the practice room where the rest of the pack was practicing, and a couple of them flinched at the anger emanating from their captain and pack alpha.

“Hongjoong, are you okay? What did they want to tell you?” Seonghwa asked cautiously, not wanting to anger the man further.

“They want to add a new member to our group. A new member after all this time!” Hongjoong ranted, revealing the news to the rest of the group.

The rest of the group had various reactions of shock, and more than a few were angry at this news being sprung on them. Wooyoung felt the brunt of everyone else’s reactions and curled into himself, while Seonghwa moved to try and calm down Hongjoong, knowing that it wouldn’t be productive to talk while he’s that upset. The eldest member, who also was the head omega, wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pushing out a soothing and calming scent to try and get the captain of their group to calm down. It worked thankfully, and Hongjoong rested his head on the other man’s chest.

“Thank you Hwa.” He softly said to the other man, once he had gathered his emotions and had calmed down significantly. He was still upset, but not as much as he was minutes ago.

“Always.” Seonghwa replied, smiling at the alpha. He brought the pack alpha closer to the rest of the guys, and they all sat down on the floor before starting to talk about what this change means for all of them.

“Did they say how they’re choosing a new member? I assume it’d be another trainee from the company?” Wooyoung queried, his eyes full of curiosity.

“They didn’t get that far before I left.” Hongjoong admitted.

“You could’ve waited around until they told you at least!” Wooyoung whined.

“Wooyoung, quiet down. This is not news any of us were expecting, and even if it was, the expectation is that we would have been included in the conversation. So I don’t blame Joong for storming out. KQ took the choice of having a new member away from us, which isn’t fair on any of us, let alone Hongjoong.” Seonghwa scolded the younger man, who looked properly chided by the end of it.

At that exact moment, Hongjoong’s phone started ringing once again, making the idol frown before answering it.

“Yes?”

The rest of the group watched as Hongjoong listened to whoever was on the other line, not sure what the call was about. Though it wasn’t long before they found out as Hongjoong sighed as he ended the call.

“So, what’s going on now?” San asked their leader.

“They want all of us upstairs for a meeting, right now.” Hongjoong stated.

They all knew this was about the new member, and they all got up from the various places in the room, heading towards the door with the two eldest leading the group. They walked up to the designated meeting room, trudging in to find most of the same group that had been in the earlier meeting with Hongjoong. 

The eight men sat down in the chairs set out for them, and as soon as they’re sitting, one of the management team starts talking, as another hands each of them a pile of thin folders.

“Here are the shortlisted candidates for the ninth member of Ateez. We’ve already held auditions, and these are the smaller number of candidates that we think are suitable for the role of your newest member.” He explained to the group.

“What do you mean you’ve held auditions? Without informing at the very least, Mingi and I?” Hongjoong questioned the man, a frown evident on his face.

“You weren’t needed. You had other pressing matters, so we took the liberty of holding auditions. It doesn’t matter now, you have the information on all 20 shortlisted candidates. We’re bringing them all here to do a final audition, as well as to make sure they fit within Ateez.” The man continued, ignoring any reaction from the two producing members.

Before the captain could retort, Seonghwa’s hand touched his arm, and the pack alpha looked over at his omega, who reminded him non-verbally that he needed to calm down. Getting mad at the company right now wouldn’t be productive. But that didn’t stop others from protesting the company’s decisions.

“Wait! So you’ve gone through this whole process and never thought to even consult us or tell us what you were planning until now, when we’re almost to the point of you choosing a new member?” Wooyoung shouted, staring down the opposite side of the table.

“As I just said, you were all busy and weren’t needed until this point in the process.” The man repeated himself, seeming very tired with having to reiterate his words.

Grumbles and mumbles about the way that KQ management has conducted things so far were heard from Ateez’s side of the table. Their manager picked up where the other man stopped, hoping to calm the boys down, they didn’t need angry alphas, nor a pissed off Ateez pack, it wouldn’t end well for anyone.

“We’ve brought you in now, because this is now more of your decision than it is ours, but we will still have input on the decision. The 20 candidates chosen are arriving tomorrow, and don’t worry, they’ve all been thoroughly checked to ensure they’re not sasaengs.” The manager assured them.

“We’ll look past the issue that you didn’t think to talk to us until now. But why wait to tell us they’re arriving till today and that they will be here tomorrow. There were plenty of opportunities before today, that you could have pulled one of us aside and said something, if not pulled us all into a meeting.” Hongjoong lectured the staff members, thoroughly upset with them and their actions.

“Regardless, this was the major thing we wanted to discuss. Though once the prospective members arrive tomorrow morning, in the afternoon they’ll be here for their final auditions, and to see how well they fit in with you. So you will be required to be here at the company at noon tomorrow.” The first man informed them.

There were huffs from the members who were quick to anger, and especially from the alphas in the pack, and the others had displeased looks on their faces.

“Well, thank you for at least informing us today, instead of springing it on us tomorrow.” Seonghwa cut in, before Hongjoong could say anything. The omega had also grabbed Joongs wrist, trying to calm the anger he could feel coming off of the alpha in waves.

Sadly for Seonghwa, his efforts were for naught.

“I will remember this, and you better hope that there’s someone in your shortlist that I and the rest of the pack can get along with. Or no one will be happy.” Hongjoong said as he pushed his chair back and stood up, prompting the rest of the pack to do the same. With the pack alpha leading the group, they all walked out, leaving the management team behind.

| Next

Taglist: @scarfac3 @smally97 @iyeeeverydee @lxsunshine @ismelllikechlorine247

@fr34k4c1dr41n @ateez-atiny380 @bethelighthalazia @davinashifts333

Taglist is open!

[eclipixels]

hai hai !!! i rlly love ur bllk works sm, my faves are the isagi ones !!

request

okay so for this one reader is hungry and randomly asks him “thighs or breast” (for chicken duhh) his dumbass quickly says personality. (the rest is up to you ! oh and bonus points if u add in how he has a thigh fetish)

Personality

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

Content: "Thighs or breast?"

[1,330 words]

      You're cuddled up on the couch, legs tangled with Isagi’s under a shared blanket. The TV is on, but you’ve both stopped pretending to care about whatever's playing twenty minutes ago. His hand is resting lazily on your hip, and his chin is nestled in the crook of your neck, soft breaths warm against your skin.

      It’s comfortable. Perfect.

      Until your stomach lets out a loud, tragic growl that echoes in the silence like a dying whale.

      “…That was aggressive,” Isagi murmurs against your shoulder, trying not to laugh.

      You groan. “I’m starving.”

      He lifts his head, looking mildly alarmed. “Did you not eat today?”

      “I forgot,” you mutter, already reaching for your phone. “Too busy with class, then work, then...this.” You gesture vaguely at your comfy position in his arms.

      He lets out a low hum of disapproval. “You need to take care of yourself, dummy.”

      You scroll through your phone at different restaurants and fast food places nearby, stomach already doing excited flips at the sight of crispy golden goodness.

      “Korean fried chicken?” you offer.

      “Always,” he replies without hesitation.

      You reach the menu and hesitate for a second, then tilt your head slightly, still nestled close to him.

      “Ichi?” you ask, voice soft.

      “Mm?”

      “Breasts or thighs?”

      He jolts.

      Like, physically jumps.

      “P–personality!” he blurts out, panicked.

      You blink. “...What?”

      He pulls away slightly, blinking at you with the horror of someone who knows he’s made a fatal mistake in a split-second decision.

      “I thought you—I thought you were asking me like—”

      You stare at him.

      “I love your personality! Not that I don’t love your breasts or thighs—you’re beautiful inside and out!”

      A beat of silence passes before you burst out laughing.

      “Oh my god,” you wheeze. “Yoichi, what the hell.”

      He groans and covers his face with both hands. “I’m so dumb. I don’t know why my brain short-circuited…”

      Still giggling, you poke his ribs. “So you’re a personality guy, huh?”

      He groans louder.

      “No, I mean—yes? But—ugh.” He drops back into the couch like his soul has left his body. “Thighs. Okay? The answer is thighs.”

      You smirk. “So you do have a type.”

      His face turns red. “I didn’t mean it like that! I meant for chicken! W-we should order thighs!”

      “Oh? But you said it so passionately. So which is it?”

      “I—okay look,” he says, eyes darting away, “maybe I have a small thing for thighs. But that’s not important!”

      You just grin and snuggle back into him, victorious.

      “I’m ordering thighs..”

      He lets out a suffering sigh, burying his face back into your shoulder.

      “I can never recover from this.”

      You stretch your legs out a little, just to adjust. Nothing dramatic as you have one of your bare thighs rested lightly across his. Casual. Cozy. But you don’t miss the way his breath hitches for half a second.

      You glance up at him, pretending not to notice. “You okay?”

      Isagi nods a little too quickly. “Yeah. Fine. Just... warm.”

      “Mmm.” You shift slightly. Your thigh presses more fully against his. You feel the tension in his arm. Just a little. You sigh dramatically, resting your head on his shoulder.

      “I can’t stop thinking about that chicken.”

      “Same,” he mutters, voice a little tight. His eyes were staring hard at your legs.

      You smile into his hoodie.

      “It’s just… so hard to choose sometimes,” you murmur. “Thighs have so much flavor, but breasts are kind of classic, you know?”

      You feel his entire soul go still beside you as you lean over, your arms clasped in front of you as you give him a full view of your cleavage coupled with the sigh of your bare thighs in shorts. He doesn't say anything for a moment. You hear him swallow.

      “…You’re doing this on purpose,” he says quietly.

      You blink up at him. “Doing what?”

      He turns his head just enough to meet your eyes, and there’s a flicker of exasperated amusement under his nervous energy.

      “I get it,” he mutters. “I panicked and said ‘personality.’ You don’t have to psychologically destroy me.”

      You grin, curling closer into him. “I’m not trying to destroy you.”

      “Feels like it.”

      You let your fingers trace absentminded circles on his chest through his shirt, completely innocent, of course. “You did say thighs in the end, though.”

      He exhales slowly. “I did.”

      Another beat of silence.

      Your fingers pause. “So… do you like them more, or...?”

      Isagi covers his face with one hand and groans into it. “I’m not answering that while you’re half in my lap.”

      You laugh softly, satisfied. He shifts beneath you, not pulling away, just grounding himself. You feel his hand slip slightly lower on your back, like he’s trying to reclaim some kind of composure.

      “I’m just saying,” you whisper, voice light, “you could’ve just said ‘thighs’ from the beginning.”

      “Yeah,” he murmurs. “But then you wouldn’t be torturing me like this.”

      You smile. “Fair point.”

      Your leg is still draped across his lap, skin warm against his sweatpants, and Isagi’s fingers haven’t moved in a while. Not out of hesitation. He’s thinking. You can see it all over his face. The way his eyes keep flicking down. The way his thumb subtly brushes the soft part of your thigh like he’s not even conscious of it anymore.

      You shift just slightly, curling deeper into the couch, your back pressed to his chest now as you stretch both legs across his lap. A clear invitation. You don’t even need to say anything. His hands are on you a moment later, slow, deliberate.

      They start at your knees, warm palms sliding up the outer curve of your thighs, spreading gentle pressure as he goes. You feel his breath on your neck, calm and even but you also feel the tension rolling off of him in quiet waves. Like he’s trying to stay casual. Trying so hard.

      His thumbs press into the soft muscle at the top of your thigh, slow and soothing. Like he’s focused, not teasing, not playing, just appreciating.

      “You’re really committing to the bit, huh?” you murmur, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder.

      “I’m just helping you relax,” he says, low and even, but there’s a distinct rasp in his voice.

      “Mm. Right. Totally normal amount of thigh contact for a massage.”

      “You’re the one who started this,” he mutters, voice a little tighter now as his thumbs roll a little firmer into the muscle near your hips.

      You hum again, not bothering to hide your grin. “I just asked a chicken question.”

      “You asked it while sitting in my lap, wearing those shorts, and then stretched like you were posing for a damn poster,” he fires back, hands still working, now kneading the inside of your thighs with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch.

      Your body shifts under his touch, a quiet surrender. His fingers stay respectful but close. So close. He’s watching your reactions now, gauging the way your muscles flex and relax beneath his palms.

      You bite your lip, eyes fluttering.

      His voice is quieter this time. “You always this tense?”

      You pause.

      “Maybe, gives you more the reason to help me loosen up.” you say softly.

      His hands still for half a second. Then, with that same quiet intensity, he leans in just enough for his lips to brush your temple. His hands move again in a slow, reverent way, sliding down to your knees and back up again, mapping you.

      And then—

      DING DONG.

      You groan.

      “No way.”

      Isagi’s head falls back against the couch. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

      You sit up slowly, glancing back at him. His hands are still on your thighs, and his expression is nothing short of tragic.

      “…I was literally about to—,” he says under his breath, squeezing your thigh once before letting go.

      You pat his cheek gently. “Sorry, the thighs you wanted are here.”

      He groans into a pillow.

[saveahorserideaneddie]

(popping back for 0.2 seconds to give my thoughts on the episode- this is a long post so buckle up lmao but i promise it’s not crashing out or raging i tried to be as calm and collected as i could)

I’m going to confess something:

If a main character had to die on the show… Bobby would have been my choice.

Now before you run to my replies to get upset and accuse me of hating Bobby- let me clarify that that doesn’t mean I WANTED him to actually die…

But

If it needed to be done (it didn’t but walk with me) I understand the choice to have it be Bobby. I won’t spend too much time going into why I feel that way or what my intricate thoughts and feelings are on why he would be my choice, but instead I am going to spend time explaining why I am angry about his death.

To put it simply: It reads as cheap shock value.

It feels like Tim wanted an excuse to shake things up, and he dove off the deep end to do so without stopping and really thinking about what it would mean to the show and to the fans. Like I said, I think MCD’s are completely unnecessary in this universe and trying to throw one in now (regardless of who) only risks losing audience members who A) feel connected to that character and lose interest now that they are gone, and B) lose the assurance and comfort knowing that at the end of the day, these characters will get through what happens. That was the charm of this show, that no matter how much they go through, they will always come out on top in the end. That is no longer a reality here, and it’s a decision that- unless somehow reversed within the next two episodes (which is very unlikely)- will only negatively impact a show that was consistently climbing in terms of ratings and numbers, and didn’t need a shakeup to maintain interest.

It all feels unnecessary and out of nowhere- a sentiment that could provide a unique and interesting opportunity to explore those feelings within the show.

That, unfortunately, is not the case with ep 16. From start to finish, there was an emotional pall over the entire episode, but that feeling of grief was left underutilized within the context of the episode, all because Tim Minear felt the need to once again dedicate an entire episode to a side plot that didn’t even provide any real substance to the overarching story. We see Athena and Chimney both struggling to cope with their grief, but the rest of the main cast merely feel like background actors in their own lives.

For Hen and Buck it feels like they’re both just having a crappy day (at the most) and nothing more. Eddie (who was blatantly ignored by the show since the beginning of this arc) is once again cast to the side, his grief and emotion being boiled down to a handful of throwaway lines that don’t even begin to signal what the relationship between him and Bobby had been for years. Ravi- who for once had finally started being treated like a member of a team he had been with for years- is now back to being an afterthought; his grief and emotions barely making an appearance beyond the end of ep 15.

The potential to showcase the 118 grieving as a whole was completely bypassed by the direction Minear decided to take the episode. We could have explored Eddie’s complex feelings for not having been there, and the guilt he feels for that. We could have explored Hen losing the only captain who ever really believed in her when everyone else had no expectations of her success (especially with Gerrard being back). We could have expanded on Buck’s seeming stoicism and how he might be repressing and bottling up his emotions (something that wasn’t even really hinted at). We could have seen Ravi feeling isolated as the person who had known Bobby the least amount of time out of the whole team.

All of this could have been done as a subplot to Athena going through the process of grieving and moving on- something that would have made the ending all the more poignant, and would have been a fitting end both for Bobby as a character, and for the three episode arc that focused on the 118 as a family.

But instead, we got a flashback to a call we’ve never heard mentioned before, but supposedly had some major impact on Bobby meaning Athena spent the entire episode just ignoring her grief (in a way that didn’t even bother to explore the complexities of the denial stage of grief- it legitimately was as if this were just another case until the end). And on top of that, we have been taken all the way back to where we began the season:

Bobby’s gone, Gerrard’s back, Eddie’s storyline is at a standstill- (buck and tommy are potentially rekindling their relationship?)

We are quite literally back to where the season started, so I beg the question- What was the point of it all. Aside from a few minor outliers, there has been almost zero character development in the main cast so far, and we only have two episodes left to actually do something that would make this season not feel like a colossal waste of time.

And when you pair that with the fact that next episode seemingly is once again pushing Eddie to the side (like eps 14-16) and creating another random non-issue plot for Hen (like ep 13), I wonder if we will actually be anywhere different by the end of the season, or if they are simply going to just cram another random shock value twist in out of nowhere.

All that said, we can only wait and see what happens, but for now we are stuck with an episode that not only confirmed that Tim Minear is tone deaf to his audience, but also did not give Bobby/Peter’s farewell to the past 8 years the respect and reverence it deserves, and to me that is almost worse than Bobby actually being dead.

And with that, I am returning to my mental health hiatus- I will most likely be back by the start of the summer hiatus depending on how things are going for me irl (rehearsals are in full swing, im in the middle of a job search, and i am about to start flight attendant training ive been BUSY 🙃🫠), but i just wanted to give my thoughts on this ep 💕💕

love you all, please drink some water, eat something, and take care of yourselves- this all sucks but at the end of the day it’s just a show and isn’t worth making yourself sick over <3

[railingsofsorrow]

I was thinking about jj being at home while reader is out partying. and then she calls him, really really drunk so he's concerned and goes pick her up.

love your writing! ❤️

midnight swim

[jj maybank x reader]

summary: the one where you drink too much and decide to have a midnight swim but your boyfriend stops you.

pairing: jj maybank x reader

w.c: 1.1K

warnings/content: alcohol consumption; language; stupid drunk decisions; argument with parents (mentioned); suggestive content (you blink you miss it).

[requested]

A/N: HELLOO this was fun to write hope you like it :)

navi

masterpost

outer banks masterlist

request me something

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Wanna go home.” You mumbled into the phone, walking outside of the loud house to have a moment of peace. Maybe your social battery is over. You didn't know what exactly cut your mood off from the party but you wanted to put on your pajamas and lay in your boyfriends' chest for the whole (rest) of the night.

“Mhm.”

“Dude, did you just kill me?!”

Pope's laughs echoed through the line, followed by JJ's trying to stifle a chuckle but he was very unsuccessful, earning a punch on his arm provided by his best friend.

“Baby? Sorry. The guys were being loud and— You still there?”

You hummed, eyes slightly unfocused staring at the enormous pool of whoever Kook's house you were. You were barely remembering your own name to be honest. You don't like drinking without your friends but you made the terrible choice to drown in booze to forget about the fight with your parents and here you are. Wallowing in self pity. And alcohol. A lot of it, it seemed.

“Baby?”

Rubbing your eyes with a sigh, you replied with a soft hi and there's some shuffling in the background.

“How's the party? Eat any fancy finger food yet? Or is it just champagne?”

“Fuck off.” You couldn't help your chuckle. Your feet somehow carry you out of the porch and into the pool area. Everything felt hot.

You can hear your boyfriends' deep chuckle before he teased you some more, attempting to rile you up. JJ was aware that when you called him at a party was either because you wanted to leave or you just got tired of being socially active and the excuse of being on the phone was good to keep people away temporarily. He wanted to know which was the option now.

“So?”

“'s boring. I wanna— Ouch.” Your laugh was loud but you didn't had a filter with the alcohol in your system so you didn't think much of it or that it wasn't so funny to stumble and fall flat on your ass.

“What?” JJ seemed to notice your lack of sobriety through your continuous giggles. “Where are you right now?” He prompted, eyeing the van's keys on the bowl beside him but not moving to grasp it quite yet. You were a big girl, you could handle yourself; you told him that once when you called him drunk and he showed up to take you home because he was worried. You were pissed. He'd never do it again unless he felt the need to. He didn't want to be possessive in any way.

“Wish I was with you.” He couldn't see your pout but he knew it was there. “Listen... We should go for a midnight swim—is it midnight yet?” You laughed, crawling towards the edge of the pool. The water looked so clean and it was so hot, you just wanted a quick swim.

“It's 1am, baby.”

“Perfect.”

The blond's lips quirked up slightly. “You sure you good? Not doing anything stupid, right?”

“You said it yourself stupid things have good outcomes all the time.” You retorted, taking off your sandals. “Ah, shit. I didn't brought a bikini.”

“Why would you need a bikini?” JJ yawned, resting back comfortably against John B's beaten-up couch. “Was it a pool party? I can't remember you telling me—”

“Not a pool party but they have a pool.” You clarify, blinking down at your outfit. “Baby, I gotta get off my dress, I don't wanna make it wet.”

The way he sat up so quickly that Pope, who was thrown on the loveseat gave him a look of confusion.

“Why do you wanna— Where are you?”

You sighed impatiently. “Told you we should have a midnight swim! I'm by the pool—”

“Okay, yeah, no.” JJ grabbed the car keys and practically sprint out the door. So much for not doing anything stupid. “Baby, can you do me a favour?”

Your face scrunched up and you shook your head. “No. 'm gonna wait for you in the pool—”

“No, you're not. You're gonna get your pretty little feet away from whatever pool you're nearby and you're gonna wait for me, got it?”

“But the midnight swim...” you slurred out, throwing your head back with a groan. “C'mon, stars ar' out and—”

“We'll have a swim when I get there but only if you wait for me, 'kay?” JJ tried a different tactic, a bit desperate for you to get the hell away from the pool while being drunk. “Where are you at again?” He knew some of your friends but he didn't know exactly whose house you were at.

“Stacy's.” You replied, dumping your feet in the pool and dangling them from one side to the other. You were sitting at the edge, the party inside echoing all of the excitement from strangers and the few (three?) people you barely knew.

The Twinkie was on before JJ even shut the door.

“Baby?”

He said carefully, praying you hadn't jumped in the pool in the meanwhile. You let out a low hum in response.

“Your dress' still on, right, princess.”

“Why? You wanna take it off?” She chuckled, leaning back to rest against her elbows. “Still on. 'm waiting f'you like you asked.”

“Good girl.” He turned on the street and now it was only ten minutes away by car. He'd make it in five. “Hey. Are you dizzy or feeling lightheaded? Are you sitting down?”

“Okay, doctor Maybank. You're doing a full checkup or something—Hey!” You exclaimed in indignation when a splash went off and you got soaked. Someone had jumped on the pool. A group of girls that were shrieking like little kids. You stumbled away from the pool, your eyes a little more focused now as you walked towards the backdoor, pushing between people to reach the exit and leave that fucking party. God why did you even came?

“Babe, you good? I'm here.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, watching the beat up van park in front of Stacy's house. “I see you.”

JJ stepped out of the vehicle to greet you. You met him halfway, a pout on yours lips when he asked why on earth were you wet. “Did you get into the pool—”

“No! Some stupid girls jumped in it and I was sitting close!” You whined and JJ's concern turned into amusement really quickly. “Stupid, fucking—”

“Alright, alright.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to bring you closer, running a hand across your back and pressing his lips against your forehead. Your sigh was muffled when you buried your face in his shirt. “Let's get you in some nice comfy and dry clothes, yeah? You good with that?”

“You promised a swim.”

He kissed your pout away until it became a smile you were trying to break into a frown but was unable to.

“Sobriety first then we'll swim and surf and do whatever you want, baby.”

Just definitely not tonight.

[sqfewrd]

HOLD ME, CONSOLE ME, and then I leave without a trace

warnings: mild language, fluff , a hint of angst, smut, reader babying John b because he’s literally her baby!! oral fem!receiving MDNI!

“Johnny?” Y/n walked into the chateau, stepping over crushed cans of beer, and trying not to breathe in the smell of sweat and beer. She made it past the dining room and into John b’s room. “John?” She made a full stop at the foot of his bed. There he was, shirtless and dead asleep. “Johnny” she shook him by his leg. “Baby… wake up” she shook his leg harder.

“Five more minutes” he kicked, turning to lay on his back, his arm shielding his eyes from the peeking sun. “Baby… it’s two pm” y/n crawled onto the bed, laying on her back next to him. He groaned, rubbing his face, his eyes fluttered, fighting to stay open. “But m’so tired” he whined. “I wonder why” she teased. “Didn’t think to invite me?” She sat up staring down at him. He opened one eye, looking at her, his lips twitching with a smile. “Last minute decision” she rolled her eyes playfully. “Right” she brushed his hair back. “How bad, one through ten?” He opened both eyes, hissing slightly. “Twenty”

“My poor baby” she cooed, her fingers brushing against his cheekbones. “I’ll fix you right up” she kissed his forehead, before grimacing. “Let’s start with a shower first” he pouted.

“Thank you” he mumbled his face smushed against her stomach, his arms around her legs, as she dried his hair with a towel. “Don’t mention it” she kissed his damp hair. “I’m sorry” he mumbled sitting up, his head tilting back to stare up at her. “Why?” She tilted her head, “Because you gotta take care of me now” she shook her head, cupping his face. “Hey, I don’t have to do anything, I want to” he scrunched his face. “I still feel like…” she kissed him, cutting him off. “Don’t even finish that sentence John b, you take care of me when I’m not feeling myself, so let me dote on you, yeah?” He nodded, his hands coming up to cover hers. “Now, I’m making you blueberry pancakes with smiley faces on them and you’re going to enjoy every single bite” he giggled. “With chocolate mustaches too?” She nodded. “Chocolate mustache too” he smiled. “oh you love me” she rolled her eyes playfully her hands dropping from his face, “who told you?” She acted embarrassed, struggling to hide the huge grin on her face. “I’m not telling” he played along leaning his head up for a kiss.

“Here you go, chocolate mustache and everything” she said softly as she set down the plate of pancakes infront of him. “Thank you, baby” he murmured pulling her in by the waist, planting a sweet kiss on her lips. As he ate she sat next to him brushing his dirty blonde locks from his face, she was so deeply in love with him, she couldn’t imagine not waking up with him in the morning for the rest of her life, it would be hell not having John b. “I love you b” she murmured kissing his jaw. “I know” he gave a smug grin, she glared at him playfully. “I love you too” he said his tone serious, she smiled sweetly, giving his sticky lips a kiss. His hands dropped the fork he held, moving them to rest on her waist, pulling her in.

Her hands moved down his back, slowly moving under his shirt, their lips moved together, slowly picking up the pace. “Johnny” she whimpered, as he pulled her closer, trying to meld their bodies together. Her head tilted back as his lips moved down her neck, sucking gently, his tongue grazing over. “Johnny” she tugged at his curls. He hissed, the cool air hitting the small forming mark. “Fuck baby” he moved back up towards her lips, roughly sticking his tongue in her mouth, not wanting to waste time. “I need you” he moaned into her open mouth. “Fuck, baby, please” he begged, his hands moving down her waist between her legs, caressing her covered thighs. She nodded, her hips moving forward trying to catch any kind of friction. He lifted her with ease, her legs wrapping around his waist, they made their way back to his bed, never patting once, he laid her down, hovering over her.

“Johnny” he shushed her, kissing her jaw. “I know baby, I know” his hands moved down, tugging at her shirt. “This okay?” She nodded, trying to pull it off herself. “I got it baby, lay back” he murmured helping her out of it. He undid her pants, keeping an eye on her face. He groaned as he piled her pants down, seeing the wet patch on her underwear. “Fuck baby” his ring and middle finger rubbed small circles, watching as her hips jerked up, he stopped, planting a kiss on her inner thighs. “Not so fast baby, wanna go slow, wanna enjoy you” she whined, tugging at her underwear. “Off” her smirked, his fingers hooking under them and sliding them off. “I’m going baby, I’m going”

He almost came as he saw her glistening folds, his mouth watering. “Fuck, y/n…” he leaned down, his nose brushing against her sensitive clit as his tongue poked out, licked a stripe up her folds. “Fuckin’ hell” he mumbled, he couldn’t tease her, he needed more, he needed her now.

She practically screamed as his tongue worked away at her, her hand flew to his hair, tugging, he slurped and spat, sucking on her now swollen clit, he moaned, his nose brushing against her clit as his tongue poked at her entrance. “Fuck, taste so good baby” his hands squeezed her bare thighs, his hips rutting into the mattress. He sucked away, the noises that left her lips encouraging him to continue, his pace quickening.

He stared up at her as he sucked ay her clit, moaning around. She watched her mouth hanging open, soft moans escaping, “so pretty like this, b” she pushed his hair back, his teeth slightly brushed against her small bud, causing her body to jerk. His eyes closed as he savored her.

“Johnny… I’m… fuck… M’close Johnny” she whined, her hips moving up fucking his face, her moaned. “Let go for me baby, please, I need it” he spoke into her cunt. “Please baby… need it so bad” he sucked at her clit, flicking at it with his tongue. “I feel it, I feel you baby, come on” he whispered, his fingers rubbing circles on her clit, before teasingly pushing them past her entrance. “Fuck” he groaned, wrapping his lips around her clit again, his fingers fucking her, the extra stimulation edging her closer.

She clenched around his fingers as she came with a loud moan, her hand pulling at John bs hair. He lapped at her juices, not letting a single drop escape, his hips rutted faster into the mattress, whining into her folds as he came.

“Fuck” He kissed her inner thighs before, rubbing her sensitive clit with his thumb, he moved back up, his face shiny with her juices. She was breathless staring up at the ceiling, she felt like she was shaking, she was shaking. “You still here baby?” He murmured, pushing her hair back, she nodded weakly, smiling. “Did you come?” She asked him her eyes trailing down to his bulge, a wet patch on the crotch of his pants. “Uh-huh, That’s how good your pussy is” he wiggled his eyebrows a smug grin on his face, she laughed, pulling him down for a kiss. “I think that helped my hangover” he smirked, she tilted her head. “Yeah?” He nodded. “We found the cure, baby!” she giggled, and he smiled staring down at her, a love sick look in his eyes . she was his, and he was going to make sure he never lost her.

AN: first time writing smut (sorta) I know more now! 🙈 anyway, I love John b I need him sooo bad he’s my baby and he deserves everything good in this world

divider by me!

[talesofesther]

what once was mine | ch 5

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: Writing a lovesick Loki is my new favorite hobby.

Masterlist | Read ch 4 here

There was something about you. Still, he couldn't quite place what it was. But there was something. He's not sure if it's the way your eyes crinkle on the sides and you avoid your gaze when you smile or if it's the frown on your lips and the raised eyebrow look you usually give to him when he shows up at your desk.

Loki didn't know what it was about you, that got him in an absolute trance, and he felt the gravity around you pulling him in.

A sharp pain in the back of his head snapped him back to reality, a small grunt escaping his lips.

"I swear I'm regretting all my decisions right now," Mobius spoke from beside him, unrolling his jet ski magazine he had just smacked Loki with, "If I have to repeat everything I've just said just because you were too busy drooling over-"

"I was listening." Loki cut him off a little too urgently, finally moving his gaze away from where you had been talking with B-15 a few steps ahead of him. "And I wasn't drooling," he grumbled.

"Yeah, right," Mobius mumbled, leaning back on his chair as he followed Loki's gaze that had, unsurprisingly, returned to you. "Did you two get to talking already?"

Loki sighed, he watched as you propped yourself up on someone's desk, fiddling with the loose tie around your neck as you spoke with the hunter. "Not exactly," he frowned, "She still avoids me most of the time. She's difficult."

Mobius hummed in agreement, now mindlessly flipping through his magazine. "You're telling me."

Tapping against the arm of his chair, Loki craned his neck to look behind him where Mobius was sitting. "Are you two close?" He asked with genuine curiosity, "You seem close."

"She's a pain in my ass," Mobius threw the magazine aside and picked up a stack of documents, neatly placing them inside a folder. He briefly glanced at you, who now sat alone, swinging your feet back and forth as you watched people walk by, a small fond smile appeared on his features. "But she grows on you pretty fast," he spoke quieter, "I gotta give her that."

The ghost of a smile crept into Loki's lips too. He jumped slightly when the folder was unceremoniously dropped onto his lap.

"Now make yourself useful and take that to the library," Mobius raised an eyebrow at him, "Some of us actually have work to do."

─── ·❆· ───

Loki praised himself for being able to reach the library without getting lost. He read the date stamped on top of the file on his hands and browsed the shelves until he found said date, neatly stacking the file in between the others already there.

As he was about to walk out, he caught sight of the joyless woman who sat behind the desk in the corner; the permanent scowl still adorned her face as she typed away at her computer.

Loki took the sharp turn and came to stand before her. He waited a beat before pressing the bell atop her desk once.

The typing halted but only her eyes moved to look at him. "Yes?"

"I'm on the lookout for a few files, if you wouldn't mind assisting me." The smile on his lips was rather mischievous.

After about a minute of following the woman around the library, Loki was pleasantly surprised to be handed the file he had actually asked for.

"Happy reading," the woman mumbled, and left him be.

In between the cramped shelves, Loki turned the file in his hands, tracing his fingers under the name written on the first page. Your name.

He wondered for a moment if it would be inappropriate, an invasion of your privacy. Prying into your life as if it were a book for him to read. He tried to justify with the thought he'd only be reading the parts with him in it.

As he slowly made his way out of the halls of shelves, Loki took a brief look at the basic pieces of information on the cover of your file. Your picture at the front was… endearing—much as he wouldn't admit it out loud—you had your arms behind your back, your lips pulled into a line, and your eyes quite wide with apprehension, wearing the same TVA uniform that Loki got thrown into when he arrived. You were human and from Midgard, which already got Loki mildly confused as to why his future self would've gotten this close with a Midgardian of all people.

Loki rounded the corner of the last shelf with his eyes fixated on the file, and he nearly dropped it when something suddenly collided against him full force. Or rather, someone.

A small oof escaped your lips when you bumped face-first into him. You took a few steps back, blinking several times with a frown on your eyebrows.

Biting back a gasp of surprise, Loki quickly hid your file behind his back, mustering his most convincing innocent look.

Your eyes finally found him and you sighed quietly. "It's you."

A small, teasing grin stretched Loki's lips and he narrowed his eyes at you, "are you following me?"

You raised an unamused eyebrow at him, adjusting the lapel of your jacket and straightening your posture; "why would I follow you?"

"Because I'm terribly alluring." His voice took a slightly lower timbre, he leaned just a tad closer to you.

All you gave him was a roll of your eyes before circling past him so you could continue on your way. Loki turned with you, keeping his hands behind his back and away from your line of sight.

Much to your dismay, he fell into step with you.

"And now you're following me?" You asked, feigning uninterest as you made a point of avoiding his gaze, heading towards the elevator.

Loki hummed; "Not at all." He stayed just half a step behind you, trailing his eyes over the way your hair fell over your shoulder, just barely revealing the black earring you wore and making him wonder if it would feel as soft as it looked if he were to run his fingers through it. "We just happen to be going to the same place."

As you waited for the elevator to arrive, Loki managed to fold your file once and stash it inside the pocket of his jacket. You went in and Loki followed. The silence that lingered as the elevator slowly made its way up made Loki feel uneasy, he shifted in his stance and stole not-so-sneaky glances at you every few seconds. Has this elevator always been so slow?

"Would you like to stop for tea?" The words stumbled past Loki's lips on their own. "Or, coffee, whatever it is you drink." He felt the need to add, to feign nonchalance.

You kept quiet, but quiet was good, it wasn't a no. Loki realized, as he pretended not to be watching you, that what kept pulling him towards you wasn't curiosity anymore; at least not only curiosity. You were going to be his in the future, that much was clear, why or how he couldn't know, but his would-be future self had been lucky enough to be loved by you. And that was it, he realized. Loki never had anything to call his in his life, he never truly belonged. And when he first saw you on that screen, he just knew it had been his choice; he would have been lucky enough to find you and choose to call you his, to be yours.

Loki's breath hitched in his throat. That feeling in his chest, his heart knew where it belonged, who it belonged to; even before he did. And you were right there and Loki couldn't push away the thought that… he was yours, even if you weren't his. Not yet, and maybe not ever again.

You kept quiet. The elevator was nearing its stop when you hit the button that led to the cafeteria floor.

The place was emptier this time of day, almost peacefully so. There were only a few people here and there, sitting at the tables while enjoying a quick meal during their break.

You spared Loki a glance, "Go find us a table, yeah?"

Loki didn't object as you walked off to grab a drink. He picked a table in a far corner, away from any unwanted disturbances, and waited. This wasn't about drinking tea, not really; he didn't mind not having a drink.

You came back a few minutes later, holding two mugs; each steaming hot and with a bag of tea floating inside. You sat down in front of him and slid one of the mugs towards him.

Loki fought to keep his face impassive, to not make you uncomfortable by displaying how the gesture had touched him. He took the mug slowly, warm ceramic heating up his cold hands. When he took the first sip, his eyes briefly closed in delight, surprised that you knew exactly how he took his tea. But he shouldn't be.

When he opened his eyes again, he noticed your gaze was, for the first time today, fixed on him. Your lips were slightly parted and your hands hung loosely around your mug on the table. It was almost as if you were gauging his reaction, hanging onto every twitch of his muscles. To prove a fact or dismantle a lie.

"It's… lovely, thank you," Loki spoke softly.

You gulped at his words, then cleared your throat and took a generous sip of your own tea, that most likely burned its way down your throat given the way your eyes watered. "Yeah, sure."

Loki softly tapped his mug as it rested on the table, he glanced up at you, his eyes betraying him with the softness he tried to hide. "You know, I'm truly quite impressed."

He captured your attention, and you turned to him with slightly raised eyebrows.

"I wasn't expecting them to have such good tea around," Loki raised his mug to prove his point, "for a place that, literally, has access to all of time, their food options are rather limited." He complained with an indignant frown.

There was a smirk fighting its way into your lips that you gently ducked your head to hide. "I have to agree, sometimes I just wanna slip into the timeline to grab a milkshake or a smoothie."

Loki struggled to keep his voice working when he saw the hints of a smile on your face, but that's also the reason why he kept talking. "Right? And then there's the neverending paperwork. I mean, honestly, for a place like this they sure are so old-timey, aren't they?"

You laughed. Genuinely laughed, and Loki delighted in it. He wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it with him forever. His lips hovered in a dazed smile of his own, and he simply looked at you—all doe eyes and pink cheeks—engraving the image in his mind with the pride that he was the one who made you happy, if even for a second.

Shaking your head, you avoided his eyes. Biting your lower lip before you said; "Oh yes, that's one of my biggest critiques yet."

A quiet chuckle escaped Loki's lips, and he made it his mission to keep the conversation going for as long as you'd have him.

When you drank the last sip of your tea, which was most likely already cold given the time that had passed since you first got it, you looked at Loki with the ghosts of that smile still lingering—a little crooked and still a little hesitant, but beautiful to his eyes nonetheless.

"I have to go," you said, voice quieter, as if you spoke louder it would break the moment. Your eyes glimmered under the artificial lights, for a beat it looked like you wanted to say more but you bit it back. "But thank you for the company."

Loki nodded softly, "It was my pleasure." He hoped you could see it in his eyes that he meant it.

Loki watched you leave. He watched as you walked into the elevator and held his gaze from afar until the doors closed. The feeling hit him hard and square in the chest, making him close his eyes and exhale a shaky breath—he was falling for you, and it killed him to think that he might be falling alone.

He took the file still hidden in his jacket pocket, unfolding it only to see the picture of you staring back at him. He looked at it for a long time, yet never opened it. He wanted to do right by you. If he were to know you, know the story you would've had together, it would be because you choose to let him.

Later that day, Loki stopped by the library again. He took a single last glance at the cover of your file before stashing it back on the shelf.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 6 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @arunabrak @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage @princess-ofthe-pages @daisy-the-quake @talesofadragon @rainbowsocks @alexandra-001 @mary-jinx @stevenknightmarc @falconxsoldier @ladymercury8 @shirukitsune @ladymischief11 @starkzdaughter @navs-bhat @creat0r-cat @cinnamonbambii

@anundyingfidelity @creationcitystreet-em @or-was-it-just-a-dream @agustdpeach @oreo-cream @jollydeckk @agent-tempest @spidermantaylorsversion @127djarin @imthedoctorlove @duckwithsunglasses @lokidokieokie @cookieeecutter @anuncalledbridge @finechalamet

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Currently Watching - July

aka The Masterlist

Because I love a good little list - in alphabetical order! 😊

Regularly updated during the month, latest update 23.07.2025.

A little link to my favorite bl-tropes-collection 💙 If you have any ideas or special wishes, just let me know and I will look if I can prepare a set or already did one and tag you 😊

gif-requests are open, but you'll need to have some patience🌼

Here you can find all of my gifs.

At the end you can have a look at what we can expect in July.

This is guaranteed to contain spoilers!

1. 40 Made ni Shitai 10 no Koto (3/12)

They are cute and Suzume was so happy and all smiling and enjoying his time. And damn Keishi without his glasses. With them he looks so good but without them he looks really sooooo good. The ending made me cringe a little bit, but I was prepared for that... I really like this series.

2. Ameagari no Bokura ni Tsuite 🇯🇵 (4/6)

I really enjoyed the talk those two had. I appreciate that Shinichiro was telling her the truth. That was good for her to let go and for him too, to be honest to himself. He needs this. This scene made me tear up and I was not in the mood for crying, but she cried and then he cried and before I could think about it, I was crying. Besides that the episode was hilarious and infuriating. I loved Kosuke this episode and really disliked Aya.

3. I Became the Main Role of a BL Drama Season 2 🇯🇵 (5/6)

This was the highlight of this episode. Him looking like that. This sounds so sad... and it is. This series is such a mess. Next is the final episode. Just get over with it...

4. Memoir of Rati 🇹🇭 (1/12)

It is just the first episode, so I have no clue if I like it or not. But I know for sure that the music is slightly getting on my nerves and every time this one song starts to play, I am reminded of Pearl Harbor... I don't like it when the music shouts at me: this is an important emotional moment! Feel it! Less telling, more feeling please. But Inn and Great look so pretty!

5. Perfect 10 Liners 🇹🇭 (8/24)

Yeah, I am still here. I don't know, this is not that catchy for me. Perhaps I find some time to finally move on to the next couple, but my weekends were stacked with social events and I didn't have the time...

6. Revenged Love 🇨🇳 (14/24)

I am so anxious about their upcoming divorce era! I don't want them to break up and hurt each other! I don't want ax evil ex messing up a new relationship. And I love Wu Suo Wei taking the initiative and kiss Chi Cheng first. I love how Chi Cheng gives in into this kiss. They can be so adorable! Don't hurt them.... please...

7. Sweetheart Service 🇰🇷 (11/12)

Hm. I guess I only watch it, because I want to support Strongberry and because the episodes are really short. The acting still is meh and the story is not good. And what is wrong with Su Yeon? I didn't like her from the beginning, but now she is only annoying. Really wish we get some progress next week. But in the end I don't know if this would make a difference.

Finished in July

Series

Boys in Love 🇹🇭

This was such a cute little show about coming of age and to find your way in life. At least for the first few steps. It is a highschool bl with a little bit drama, but I guess it is relatable. Deciding what to do with the rest of your life. Deciding what comes first, love or your work future. And what happens when dreams don't come true. What to do when plans don't work out and you have to find a plan B. I really enjoyed the communication and the mothers were great in this last episode. If you like My School President, than you might like this one as well. For me this is a solid 8 out of 10.

Depth Of Field 🇯🇵

I binged this one and that was the right decision. It is a bittersweet story about growing up and coming to terms with your own sexuality. It is a calm series with some strong characters. I didn't mind the time jump in the end, because it made sense. I was feeling so many emotions watching these two getting closer and parting again. A 7,5 out of 10 for me.

Movies

Short Films

Dropped in July

The Next Prince 🇹🇭 (9/14)

Style without substance. At this point it just feels like a waste of time for me. The series looks beautiful, but the plot is so stretched out and so many things could have been dealt with in one episode. The characters are beautiful, but feel lifeless, like really beautiful puppets without a soul and a life. Sorry. I just don't feel it.

Looking forward to in July

Kita-kun ga Kawai Sugite Te ni Amaru no de, 3 Nin de Share Suru Koto ni Shimashita 🇯🇵 (July 1st)

Asada Minami, a nurse, Hiruma Toko, and Nishino Yu, a bookstore employee, all fall in love with Kita-kun, also known as Manaka Kita, who has a mysterious charm that captivates everyone regardless of age or gender. In order to avoid increasing their love rivals, they form the "33% Club" to share Kita-kun's love in three equal parts. It is a love comedy about three people living together with Kita-kun.

Ameagari no Bokura ni Tsuite 🇯🇵 (July 3rd)

Kanade Shinichiro, a working adult living in Tokyo, has decided to hide his homosexuality and never fall in love again due to bitter memories from his school days. One day, he reunites with his high school best friend, Mashiro Kosuke, who he once had a "special" crush on. After meeting for the first time in six years, the two face their pasts and begin to move forward while reexamining themselves. A heartwarming boys' love story about two people who sometimes hurt each other but also clumsily love each other.

40 Made ni Shitai 10 no Koto 🇯🇵 (July 5th)

Tojo Suzume, who has been single for over 10 years and spends his days just going back and forth between his office and home, realizes that there are only three months left until his 40th birthday. Suzume makes a list of "10 things I want to do before I'm 40" due to the sudden sense of impatience he feels at the turning point of his life. "Takoyaki party," "Change your taste in clothes," "Find a lover..." However, the list is accidentally seen by Tanaka Keiji, a handsome junior subordinate! However, at Keiji's suggestion, the two decide to fulfill the list together. Their mundane days change into fun days spent together. And they become "special people" that transcend the relationship of boss and subordinate and the age difference. This is a fascinating story about the slowly closing distance between the two and the love story of an adult who falls in love for the first time in a long time!

My Idol - Trailer 🇰🇷 (July 8th)

U Sang is devastated by the death of his father—and now, even the school track team is about to be disbanded. While everyone urges him to face reality, only Jae Min quietly steps closer to stand by his side.

Desire - Trailer 🇨🇳 (July 12th)

On the edge of death, Sheng Shao You meets someone who seems like his exact type: a delicate white lotus kind of beauty, the kind you'd want to pluck, keep in a vase, and admire forever. But turns out, this boy isn’t just a harmless little lily. He’s a ghost orchid, rare and unpredictable, with charm that’s deadly, elegant, and darker than expected. When obsession meets something untamable, who’s really going to end up devoured?

Dating Game - Trailer 🇹🇭 (July 14th)

Hill, a former bullied boy with a geeky personality, finds love and confidence from "Yuka" in the female character romance simulation game "Yuka! Love Me Please" and grows into a handsome programmer beyond recognition. Hill achieves his dream of getting a job at the company that developed "Yuka! Love Me Please", where he meets Junji, the perfect, cold-hearted CEO from Japan. Soon after getting the job, the company announces that it will be ending service for the game, leaving Hill dejected. Seeing his passion to move forward despite his heartache, Junji approaches Hill with a proposition.

Only You - Teaser 🇹🇭 (July 18th)

A bodyguard's assignment to protect a former schoolmate—now a famous performer—deepens as unexpected feelings ignite between them.

Secret Lover - Teaser 🇹🇼 (July 22nd)

Han Tuo and Lu Jun Xi, lifelong rivals competing for the same girl, escalate their games into intimate challenges. Despite their determination to win, bold moves and unexpected passion blur the lines of rivalry; their games lead to intense and confusing emotions between the two. A heated battle of pride, desire, and unexpected attraction unfolds.

My Magic Prophecy - Trailer 🇹🇭 (July 27th)

Dr. Thap, who doesn't believe in horoscopes or destiny, is forced into a position where he has to flee for his life with the help of fortune-teller In.

[in1-nutshell]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write where Sari asks NightLight how Ratchet and her became Conjunx endura?

This story caught the other's off guard for sure.

Hope you enjoy!

How did Nightlight and Ratchet get bonded?

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Mention of injury, Cybertronian reader

TFA

The questioned started after movie night.

Nightlight had finished her evening patrols earlier than expected and the others had been preparing for Movie Night.

Nightlight had nothing better to do for the rest of the evening and decided to join in.

This made Sari very happy, seeing as Nightlight didn’t join in many nightly activities that were around patrolling or work.

The movie ended with its main protagonist getting married and riding off into the sunset.

Sari looked up to Nightlight, who was sitting next to Ratchet. Sari: “Nightlight, how did you and Ratchet get married?” All the bots are caught off guard by the question. Bumblebee: “Now that she mentions it, I don’t think either of you have told us.” Ratchet: “There is a lot you young bots don’t know.” Bulkhead: “Did you have a spring wedding?” Bumblebee: “Or maybe something like in a church?” Prowl: “…Who asked who?” Nightlight: “You do realize we did Conjunx rites? We didn’t do a ‘wedding’ like the humans do.” Sari: “Oh right, aliens… but then how did you get… umm…” Optimus: “Bonded?” Sari: “Yeah! Robo married!” Ratchet looks over at Nightlight and gives her a knowing smirk. Ratchet: “Yes Nightlight, how did we get ‘robo married’?” Nightlight looks uncharacteristically flustered and tries to make a break for it before Ratchet traps her on the couch using his magnets. Nightlight: “Ratchet!” Optimus: “Okay now I want to know.” Bumblebee and Sari: “Tell us!” Nightlight sighs in defeat. Nightlight: “All right, all right… sit down everyone… it’s a bit of a long story…”

…

It took place during the final days of the war.

The pair had been ‘dating’, if you could call it, for a while.

A couple hundred years give or take, but it felt a bit shorter given each other’s professions took a lot of time and dedication to.

It was a miracle for a field tech and detective could even find time for each other that wasn’t based on screen calls or rare mission briefs.

Nightlight’s most recent case had led her to the same base camp Ratchet was in.

It would soon come to her attention that the base would be under siege in a matter of days.

Normally a quick call would have sufficed in warning the others and getting the relief team on their way… if the base wasn’t under a tech blackout.

Nightlight made sure to call in the relief team for the base before racing to get to the base herself.

Ratchet was surprised to see Nightlight in the base looking so disheveled and panicked.

After briefly explaining the situation, the two helped getting the injured and other personnel bots out of the base before the siege started.

Too bad some Con scouts had entered earlier.

It was up to Nightlight, Ratchet and a few other bots to hold everything down before the others would arrive.

The small group was doing okay for the most part.

Ratchet spots a Con sneaking behind Nightlight. Ratchet: “Nightlight! Get down!” Nightlight immediately drops to the ground as Ratchet uses his magnets to throw the Con. Ratchet looks down at her worried as she hadn’t gotten up yet. She just stared at him. Ratchet quickly pulled her up, looking over for any injuries. Nightlight grabs his free servo. Nightlight: “Be my Conjunx?” Ratchet stops, completely caught off guard by the question. Nightlight punches a Con who was trying to attack them both. Nightlight: “We’re busy!” Ratchet shakes his helm in disbelief. Ratchet: “You decided that NOW of all times is the right time!?” Ratchet and Nightlight punch a couple more Con’s. Nightlight: “I am not going to go out without asking that.” Ratchet: “No one’s going out!” Nightlight: “Just being realistic—HEAD’S UP!” Nightlight drop kicks another Con. Nightlight: “I made my decision Ratchet… would you do me the honor of being my Conjunx for whatever time we have left?” Ratchet blinks before turning his helm to a nearby bot. Ratchet: “Kup!” Kup: “Yeah!” Ratchet: “You’re our witness for the Conjunx rites!” Kup does a double looking at Nightlight and Ratchet ducking from the blaster fire. Kup: “Now?!” Nightlight: “Please Kup?!” Kup: “… Sod it… Say your things! I’ll cover for ya!”

Both bots are fighting and yelling out their rites, gifting each other enemy blasters at one point.

Now officially Conjunx’s… just as the relief team came.

Everyone had survived, hurt and wounded heavily, but alive.

Many bots where surprised to hear that the sour field tech and detective had the bearings to do their Conjunx rites in the midst of battling the enemy.

The pair didn’t care too much about what the other younger bots were whispering about.

Mainly because Ratchet had a bit of a lovesick smile while Nightlight had tucked her helm on the side of his helm.

Both their servos tightly wound together.

They had lived for another day.

It would take them a few hours to get back to the capital for better care on their injuries.

It would also be a few days later before the war would have officially ended.

…

The team’s mouths were on the floor.

They were not expecting that!

Ratchet and Nightlight earned some respect on their names.

Optimus and Prowl are just surprised when they had made the rites.

It was completely dangerous and risky for Nightlight to make such a decision.

Though to put it in perspective, if she was that scared to risk doing one last thing with Ratchet before she went off line…

The two bots just hoped that they never had to see Nightlight make such risky decisions like that on Earth.

Bumblebee, Bulkhead and Sari are just floored with this story.

They were expecting something like a sappy love confession or them casually wanting to do it to lower their taxes.

This story gave the married couple a new light for the young ones to look at.

Optimus: “But there is one thing I don’t understand. Nightlight looked very flustered when mentioning about the story, why?” Bulkhead: “Maybe because she’s just embarrassed.” Ratchet chuckles. Ratchet: “No, its what happened shortly after we bonded.” Nightlight hid her face in her servos. Nightlight: “Ratchet please…” Ratchet: “The kids are going to keep on asking.” Nightlight graoned: “…Proceed…” Ratchet chuckled a bit rubbing circles on her back. Ratchet: “She apparently had a whole series of plans to ask me to be her Conjunx. All colored coded, alphabetized and in most likely to least likely to fail.” Sari: “Can we see it?” Nightlight jumps up and is out the door. Ratchet chuckles a bit. Ratchet: “Give her a couple of days, a few puppy dog eyes and maybe you get to see Plan Yellow C.” Prowl: “What is that one?” Ratchet: “Lets just say it involved several jetpacks, a few favors and Megatron’s sword.” Optimus: “Megatron’s what!”

[crowsofdarkness]

Soldat: Chapter Three

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?

Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox

Soldat Masterlist

The bickering had reached a whole new level of annoyance. Natasha wanted to jump right into the fight; for Nick. Steve wanted to think about a plan of action first. He hated not having a plan. And Steve’s new friend, Sam, was fine with whatever we decided; he was happy to help in whatever way we needed. I, however, did not want to do anything. I sat at the table in Sam’s kitchen with the rest of them, chipping away at my nail polish, trying to drown out their voices knowing they would try to make me choose a side. 

It had been one hell of a 48 hours. After Steve and I barely managed to escape Shield Headquarters, Natasha, and I found what was on the hard drive Nick left Steve; a location in New Jersey. Come to find out it was where Steve was trained for the war; pre serum. And what we found there was something that still wasn’t sitting well with any of us. 

Hydra had infiltrated Shield years ago thanks to Dr. Zola and had been creating weapons that could be used to eliminate millions of people all over the world. We had also found out who had killed Nick, granted I knew before any of them but decided not to tell them. 

The Winter Soldier. 

Once Shield had found us in New Jersey and after dropping a bomb on us literally, we made it back to D.C and were currently hiding out in Sam’s house. I was tired, hungry, and desperately needed a shower however everyone was bickering about what our next plan of action needed to be.  

I continued to remain silent, hoping that Steve could make the decision without me. I had seen a lot of shit during my years on Swat and in the FBI. I also faced a lot of scary things but nothing scared me more than the Winter Soldier and I was not about to tell my team why.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” I reluctantly looked away from my fingers and rested my eyes on Steve’s face. 

The bags under his eyes were heavy and his shoulders were heavily weighed with the guilt of everything happening. We both needed to rest before we did anything drastic. 

“What do you think we should do?” He questioned. 

They waited patiently for my answer, causing me to groan.

“Please don’t make me choose,” I begged while pushing away from the table, “I need some time alone.”

Ignoring their stares, I walked down towards one of the spare bedrooms Sam allowed us to stay in and fell onto the bed with a large groan. My body started feeling heavy, darkness starting to engulf me in sleep, and I almost succumbed when voices in my mind awoke me with a start. 

Soldat? What are you doing here?

You need to leave now. 

No, I’m not leaving you. I lo-

“Y/N?” 

Raising from the bed, I leaned back on my elbows and gave Steve a weak smile. He was leaning against the door frame, the muscles in his arms tensing as he crossed them over his chest. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry for snapping earlier. I haven’t slept in over 21 hours and my body feels like it’s been thrown through the ringer. I need a massage and a hot shower,” I admitted while rubbing my shoulder. 

Steve nodded towards the bathroom that was attached to the bedroom. “I was about to shower. You can go ahead.” 

Sucking in my bottom lip between my teeth, I took in his appearance, suddenly wishing I could see him underneath the stream of water. He was only wearing his jeans with a white tank top and I fought the urge to suggest that we should shower together. 

“Or you could join me. Save water, ya know?” 

Fuck. 

Steve’s eyes widened at the request and coughed, trying to hide the arousal that pooled in his stomach. “I’ll just use the shower in Sam’s room.” 

My cheeks burned in embarrassment when Steve turned me down and I simply  nodded before dragging my feet towards the bathroom.

 “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I mumbled. 

“Y/N-”

Steve’s voice called as I slammed the door shut behind me. A twinge of guilt pulled at my heart for snapping at him but I was embarrassed that I had even suggested that in front of him with everything going on. I should have been worrying about what our next steps were going to be, not having shower sex with Steve

Groaning out in pleasure, I let the hot water cascade down my body, the dirt and sweat rinsing away with ease. Not wanting to be rude and use up all of the hot water, I stepped out a few minutes later wrapping a towel tightly around my chest. 

“Y/N?” A soft knock sounded on the other side of the door. 

Natasha. 

“Yeah?” I called back. 

“There’s some fresh clothes for you on the bed. Sam said an ex of his left a bunch of her clothes here so they’re fair game.” 

Even though I couldn’t see her, I knew Nat had a smug smile on her face. 

“Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute.” I giggled. 

Once I knew I was alone again, I used my fingers as a comb to untangle the knots out of my hair before leaving the bathroom, shutting the light off behind me. My feet padded against the carpet but came to a halt when I saw the figure walk through the door, a towel wrapped tightly to his waist. 

Steve jumped a bit when he saw me, not realizing I was out of the shower yet. 

“Sorry! Nat said she had some clothes for me in here,” He apologized. 

“Of fucking course she did,” I scoffed. 

Silence fell between us as we both stared at each other. Steve’s hair was pretty damp still, water running down his broad chest, and I had to lock my feet into place to stop myself from running over to him, licking up the little drops of water. The sexual tension between us was getting thicker each second that passed and Steve had to discreetly adjust himself under his towel .

“Did the shower help?” His voice came out raw and husky. 

Licking my lips, I shook my head. “I still think I could have used some help.” 

Steve’s body went rigid and slowly nodded. “Sorry.” 

“Next time,” I jokingly suggested. 

“Definitely.” 

Steve’s eyes went dark with lust as they grazed over my exposed skin, as if taking a mental picture for himself. Feeling the desire pool between my legs, I pointed behind me. 

“I’m going to get dressed in the bathroom. Feel free to use the bedroom.” 

Grabbing the black leggings and the maroon tank top, I scurried into the bathroom, Steve’s burning gaze on my back. Once alone, I let out a few strong breaths to steady myself. 

I wasn’t sure what had come over Steve but whatever it was, I wanted to find out if it were his true feelings or just being caught practically naked that caused it. Biting my lip, I opted out of the leggings, deciding to just wear the tank top and underwear and after tousling my hair a bit, I walked back out into the bedroom, hoping Steve would still be there. 

He wasn’t. 

Letting out a disappointing breath, I pulled back the sheets of the bed, suddenly wanting nothing more than to take a six hour nap. I was about to crawl underneath when the door opened, Steve returning wearing nothing but sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips. His hair was brushed back, a few strands falling into his face, and he had a glass of water in one hand. 

He looked like a fucking dream. 

I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. “I thought you left?”

“I did. To grab some water for you.” Steve placed the water on the bedside table before locking his gaze with mine. 

“Have we decided what the plan is?” I questioned. 

He nodded. “We’ve got a few leads we can follow. Sam suggested we rest up before though. We’re leaving in a few hours.” 

“Okay,” I responded. 

Steve stuffed his hands in his pockets before nodding towards the door. “I’ll come wake you up when we’re ready to go.” 

“Stay,” I breathed. 

He blinked before nodding, not bothering to ask if it was okay. He knew I didn’t mind. 

We crawled underneath the covers together, Steve’s body warmth immediately warming me up without me touching him. I went to turn my back to him but his arms engulfed around me pulling me into his chest. Not fighting it, I rested my head against it, absolutely loving the feeling of having a body pressed against mine. It had been years since I’ve been in bed with anyone and had missed the feeling of it terribly. 

“Is this alright?” Steve questioned. 

“More than alright,” I cooed.

We fell into a comfortable silence and I felt the darkness starting to take over when Steve started running one hand through my hair, the other tracing shapes on my bare thigh. His lips grazed the top of my head and his breath hitched when I placed a leg over his hips. 

“Is this alright?” I mimicked his question, the sleep slowly taking me. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t even have to ask.” Steve groaned. 

“Let me go you asshole!” I screamed pounding on the bars in front of me. 

“Shut up!” The guard spat towards me. 

“You’ve kept me prisoner for days now. I’ve told you before, I don’t know anything!”

“I said shut up!” The guard pointed his gun towards me, immediately shutting me up. 

Biting my lip, I fell against the wall of my cell, a sob escaping the confines of my throat. 

“SOLDAT!You’ve returned. Watch her. I have to take a piss,” The disgusting guard demanded of a man who I hadn’t noticed before. 

The man stepped closer to the slightly dimmed cell and my breath caught in my throat. The light cascaded his metal arm and I scurried farther away from him. 

“I swear I don’t know anything about Zola, please.” I sobbed. 

Soldat turned his head to the side, studying me, his hair falling into his face. He pushed away the strands of hair with his metal fingers before looking around the small cell. Using his metal arm, he ripped the door to the cage open causing me to scream. I crawled away from him but the cool fingers wrapped around my ankle, dragging me over to him. 

Sitting up in bed, I let out a large scream, eyes snapping open as I took in my surroundings. I was in the guest room of Sam’s house, taking a nap with Steve. 

Steve.

Looking to my left, I noticed the empty spot that was no longer warm, meaning Steve had left the bed awhile ago. 

“Y/N?!” 

Steve had busted through the door when he heard my screams and was kneeling in front of me. “What happened?” 

I shook my head, not wanting to get into details. “Nothing. I’m fine.” 

“The hell you are. Your scream woke the damn birds outside.” 

My eyes snapped to the doorway where Sam and Natasha stood, worrying etched over their faces. 

“I said I’m fine.” I reassured and tried to get out of bed before Steve stopped me. 

His hands gripped my hips, keeping me locked in place. 

“What the hell happened?” He asked, “And please don’t lie to me.” 

My heart fluttered at Steve’s worried eyes but I still couldn’t find the words to tell him about my past. 

“Please Steve, I don’t want to talk about it.” I begged. 

“Y/N, he needs to know.” Nat’s soft voice suggested. 

I looked at her dumbfounded but let out a low chuckle. “Of course you know. You’re Natasha-fucking-Romanoff.”

“I’ve known for a while now. I’ve just been waiting for you to tell them,” She admitted with a small frown. 

“Tell us what?” Sam asked. 

“Sweetheart, what are you talking about? I thought there were no secrets between us.” Steve squeezed my thigh. 

“It was something that happened way before I met you or Nat. I never thought to mention it because I didn’t think I would ever run into him again.” I quietly admitted. 

“Who?” Steve placed a finger under my chin forcing me to look at him. 

I clasped my shaking hands together and sighed, trying to find the courage to say his name out loud. 

“The Winter Soldier. Or I knew him as Soldat.” I breathed, “It was years ago, back when I was in the FBI. I was undercover in Russia gaining intelligence on a possible terrorist group run by Dr. Zola when I was kidnapped. Only at the time, I didn’t know what I know now about Zola.” 

Steve squeezed my hands. “How long were you a prisoner with them?”

“I stopped counting the days after ten. For all I know, I could have been held there for six months.” I revealed. 

“You didn’t know his name?” Sam asked, referring to Soldat. 

I shook my head. “No, the men only ever called him Soldat. It took me a while to understand what it meant; soldier.”

“That’s why you froze on the roof?” Steve suddenly started putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “He was the one who kidnapped you.” 

“God, no. He was my savior. He was the reason I escaped,” I assured them, “I don’t think I would be alive if it wasn’t for Soldat.”

Jealousy raged through Steve’s eyes at the mere thought of someone else protecting me, saving me. His grip on my hands tightened and I had to gently brush my fingers across his cheek. His face softened, only for a split second before he rose to his feet, his hands dropping from my hips. 

“He still killed Nick. So he’s not the Soldat you remember,” Steve’s demeanor and voice changed, almost with venom before he nodded towards Sam. “Have you heard from your informant?” 

Sam nodded. “He’ll be leaving lunch in an hour.” 

“Let’s suit up then,” Steve demanded, not bothering to look in my direction as he left me and Nat alone in the room together. 

“Man, jealousy does not look good on him.” She chuckled. 

“Whatever,” I mumbled before dragging my body to the bathroom to get ready for what I didn’t know would be the craziest, fucked up next couple of days.