#I tried to make their body language the most important thing here

[strange-anni]

I forgot this one. When Max and El are ordering ice cream it's Max who gets the strawberry at first and El the vanilla ice cream. But that's not right so they need to trade.

Fusing is exactly what happens at the Steel factory

and before that there is the fusion of two men in a hospital

So yes, I think it fits very well. A factory for construction and fusion

I'm not surprised that out of all the three Fred is the one with the address on Cherry Street. He's also the supposed murderer with Survivor's guilt. It's likely another hint towards Will

And Chrissy lives on Popular Tree Road. That can't be real right? I mean I don't live in the US and I don't know the naming convention for streets over there but "Popular Tree Road" sounds just entirely made up. (by Will most likely)

I agree with Hawkins lab being a prison because it's entirely inside Will mind and it would not surprise me if Mike unbeknownst to him had something to do with it's creation.

Just trust me! (and Will most likely did)

It's Mike who brings up the fact that there is a military base under the Department of Energy. Mike is also a liar. (Credit for finding this out to @/thefirstlioveyou) I highly doubt it's true and I also do not think Ted ever said that. It's conspiracy stuff and Ted is not into that.

But Mike just thinks it's cool like he is fascinated by superpowers, Star Wars and supernatural things. I know this also speaks a ton of Mikes own issues here but it would not surprise me if Will believed him when he said that and incorporated it into his own mindspace. (at an earlier date as I don't think Mike said it all for the first time in S1)

There are also a lot more connections. Like the fact that the lab is an underground basement and the most prominent basement we see in the show is Mike's basement. Then there is the fact that the lab people use Polaroids while out of all the Moms/brothers we see making photos of the kids, it's Karen Wheeler who uses a Polaroid camera

It's not malicious. Not really. I think Will tried to create a place where he could hide or get help from and used Mike and the Wheelers as inspiration because he likes them a lot and feels safe when he's with them.

This post by @threemanoperation also has interesting things to say about the military facility being connected to the shed

I completely agree on the last part. El did exist before but only in Wills mind and took over to front the body whenever there was a need for it. She was there when the CSA happened and I don't think she understood entirely what was going on but she understood enough to know something was wrong.

There is also another layer to it. El can barely speak when she steps into the world making it unlikely for her to ever speak of all the a*use she suffered because she just doesn't have the words for it. (It's why I think age appropriate sex ed even for kids is so important. Give them the language to describe what happened to them and they will have an easier time speaking about it)

Yeah when Will vanished in 1983 Eleven stepped out of the lab for real and became real like some of the other alters. It's also possible that Will didn't need her for quite some time prior to that as Lonnie has been gone from his life. And then one day he didn't want to lie to Mike, told him the truth and suddenly there was need again as the Demogorgeon stepped out of Wills mindscape scaring Will into believing his father is father is back. So El and her superpowers were needed once again. She steps into the world and becomes real.

The bomb explodes

Btw do you have any idea on the ice part? Why "he likes it cold"? I've thought about it for a while and it just doesn't make any sense to me. At first I thought it might be related to Lonnies drugs. The best storage temperature for coke is 0-10°C (32-50°F) but I'm not sure if this is it. Like it's better to store coke in a cool environment but if it's too cold it can damage the drug as well. So I don't think that's it.

This is the source El finds in the void and it's twofold. It's the father. In this case it's Neil but he's just a stand-in for Lonnie.

The other source is the Steel Works warehouse BRIMBORN but that's not how it is presented to us throughout season 3.

It reads more like BRIMBORN as a shadow covers up the B pretty consistently, making us unable to read it

Warning for discussions of CSA under the cut

We also get the full address of the steelworks warehouse and it's

Brimborn Steelworks 6522 Cherry Oak Drive

This is how where the MF possessed Billy. Cherry Oak Drive

Lonnie also means oak tree

Max also tells us Billys full address

Billy Hargrove 4819 Cherry Lane

Billy lives on Cherry Lane but he lost himself and got possessed by the father at Cherry Oak Drive. A lane to drive on...

Source

Billy was a Cherry Lane at first until he got corrupted in the Cheery Oak Drive

Billy is short for William and a stand-in for Will

We also learn more about cherries and their availability

Hopper says there is no cherry in the 7-Eleven. Apparently they had only strawberry

That's not entirely true tough as we see with Alexei here. In fact it seems like they have only cherry and cola. But Hopper still drove there even though it was way out of his way. So I'm sure he would have gotten cherry if it were there, right?

Well, maybe it's more like an either/or situation with the Seven and the Eleven in which one number is the cherry and the other is the strawberry . Maybe they are mutually exclusive

As we've already seen though, it's Will who is already associated with cherries via association of Billy which in turn can only mean one thing

Eleven is the strawberry

But

In the end there is no difference. Cherry and strawberry taste the same. They are the same. Just sugar on ice

But what's a strawberry anyway?

Source

First of all of this goes with the Will Byers has DID theory.

For the longest time I was convinced that Will created Eleven on the day he vanished in the woods but I don't think that's what has happened any longer. I think she was there long before. Ready to take over whenever Will needed her to use her superpowers to absorb what he couldn't face.

That's why Eleven is a strawberry. She was there ready to save Will whenever Lonnie sold off his son to buy dr*gs. It's why there is still a cola next the cherry in the 7-Eleven. Coca-Cola or just coke. Other sources also say that a Strawberry is a woman who willingly sells se*ual favors to buy dr*gs. (although willingly is hardly the word I would use here)

In the beginning of the first season El could barely speak and was more like a child who didn't understand anything. This was also done for her protection throughout the years I think. The less she understood what happened, the better it is for her (or so the reasoning goes)

But she still understood the most important part

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Cheating Heart

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: Your feeling for John were wrong -- horribly wrong -- but when you see your current boyfriend in bed with another woman, what's to hold you back anymore? (18+)

Word Count: 20.8k

Warnings: Cheating, toxic relationship, angst, fluff, depictions of violence and gore in flashbacks, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smut, breeding kink, praise kink, Protective!Price, vulgar language, porn with an incredible amount of plot

A/N: Literally just supposed to be smut practice and I turned it into a novel lmfao. I should be getting back to requests after this.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You slap a hand onto Soap’s bicep as you slide past the Scot, laughing loudly. The C-17 was still whirring behind you, the engines rumbling and shaking the air over your heads like great waves. Soap had asked you to go out with everyone for drinks at a local bar here in your city, not a moment prior. He was being quite persistent about it.

“Ah, c’mon, Little Lady,” The mohawked man grumbles, jogging to catch up to your fast form. Shit, you really needed a shower – your pores were packed with blood and dirt, “It’s just a few minutes from Base! We’ll all get steamin’ in no time.”

 “Hell,” Your body aches, but there’s a promise of hot water and clean clothes in your Barracks, making your feet move over the tarmac faster. Showering after a tough deployment was better than sex, “I’d love to, man, but you know that Leon makes me homemade meals when I get back home. Sorry, but I hope I make up for it by saying I’d take a bar burger and a drink over his lasagna any day. That thing could kill a horse.” 

Soap chuckles, eyes sparkling, and you send him an inquiring glance, “Price’ll be out with us.”

Your lips thin, the M13 strapped over your back suddenly ten times heavier and digging into your shoulder blades. Inside your chest, your heart sparks to life.

“MacTavish…” You warn, eyes narrowing at the stocky male, “Careful where your words go – I have a boyfriend. Plus, idiot, whatever it is your implying is insanely against workplace policy.”

“Yeah, but that boyfriend of yours treats you like shite.”

“Hey!” Yelling, your eyebrows turn in with a glare, finger pointing at his chest, “That was uncalled for, Asshat.”

Frowning, you watch Soap’s hand go scratch at the back of his head as his optics dart away, grumbling, “I don’t think it was if I’m being honest. Not exactly a prime choice in a partner you’ve got there.” 

The two of you make it to the front doors of the Barracks building, and you huff in annoyance. You were quickly deciding that not even a shower would make you feel better if this conversation continued. It was bordering on too much for your tired brain, sinking needles into your heart and dripping poison. 

Soap wasn’t lying, of course, your boyfriend was a piece of work and everyone knew it. Not only did Leon get pissed when you had to go on deployments – which you didn’t have control over – but he had also made a habit of being a bitch when you came back lately. There was never a chance to relax anymore, and what was worse was that it hadn’t always been like that. Part of you had tried to empathize with him because it was probably hard for someone's significant other to be away most of the time.

Like that gives him an excuse, You think, face heating with resentment as you remember the last argument Leon had dragged you into.

It was the day before your current deployment began nearly four months ago. Leon had gotten angry that you weren’t able to tell him where you were being shipped off to, and, like usual, had made the last day you saw him pure hell. 

“Oh, so It’s my fault that I’m concerned?!” He was screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice bouncing off the ceiling, “I get it – I’m the problem for wanting you home and safe.”

“My job is important, Leon!” Attempting to keep your cool, you take deep breaths. Teeth nash against your bottom lip and rip it to pieces as you use the pain to call away from the tears stuck in the ducts of your eyes, “You’re acting like what I do doesn’t affect the world. I need to go, otherwise, bad people are–”

“Is that what you tell yourself? Fuck me, how goddamn stupid could you be?!”

Leon growls, sending you scathing glances as he begins to pace the living room.

“Now you’re just being rude,” You whisper, whipping at your cheeks and gathering teardrops on your sleeves, “You know I can’t control when John sends me out with him and 141! They’re my team!”

Mentioning your Captain was a mistake and you knew it just as John’s name came out of your mouth. Leon pauses – his body going very still.

“John,” He whispers, eyes lit with burning fire, “Since when have you started calling him by his first name?”

“Leon–” You tried to salvage the situation but it was already too late. Your boyfriend snarls out accusation after accusation.

“I knew it! You’re cheating on me–”

“No, I’m not!” Pleading with someone to listen can only get you so far, “We’re close because we're always together – just like with the rest of the boys!” Leon shakes his head, hands clenched at his sides and vibrating with rage. Loyalty meant so much to you, trying to imagine a world where you would physically go out and cheat on your boyfriend was like seeing a unicorn out on the street. Your feet take you closer to Leon as the tensions rise, “You’re not listening! Listen to me!”

“Why the hell should I listen to a fucking whore!?”

The memory leaves you tense, remembering for a moment the sound of a tossed lamp and the shattering that followed soon after as it hit the floor. It was silly, but that lamp that Leon had thrown in anger was a family heirloom; something immeasurably precious to you. It was the last object you had left from your Grandma. Now, the remains were probably stuffed in a garbage bag somewhere, but you wouldn’t know because you had left with your duffel bag and slept at Base. At the very least you could hope your Leon cut his fingers picking up the pieces of glass.  

You had thought that everyone hadn’t noticed anything wrong, but had been catching concerned glances when you went into the cafeteria with thick bags under your eyes the next day; hair tangled and matted from your fingers.

Price had brought you outside, only pausing slightly before laying a heavy hand on your arm and squeezing. The man had bent slightly to look you in the eyes, head tilting so his hat blocked the sun from your eyes. 

“Love?” His eyes had been warm, creased with concern around the edges – an emotion you never received from Leon. When you just stared at your Captain, he hummed in the back of his throat, “You alright down there?”

Before you could do anything you might regret, you shook off his grip and disappeared back into the cafeteria. You didn’t eat that day and the next you were off on deployment.

“--soon?”

You blink, noticing Soap had begun walking ahead of you, his gear clinking.

“What?” You ask dumbly, “Sorry, I spaced out.”

Soap smirks, looking at you strangely, “I said I’ll see ya soon…hopefully out with the rest of us tonight?” He raises an eyebrow expectantly with a grin and you force out a half-assed huff. Trying to mask the unease in your blood. 

You had been gone four months instead of the intended three with Soap out in Russia on a Black Op, fighting back in a war that no one would ever hear of. Distinctly, you wondered if John was mad at you for how you acted toward him before you left.

“No promises, Suds,” Striding down the hallway you take the turn on the right leading to the women’s barracks, your back turned as Soap continues to subtly plead to you. 

If you took the time to look into it, you would have realized that the man was concerned for you; his thought process was to keep you away from Leon for as long as he could so you might come to your senses.

“I’ll see you at 0900, then! Don’t keep everyone waiting, yeah? Been too long since you’ve been out with the rest of us!” 

His voice falls away as you open the door to the joint female changing room and showers. Only when the hum of the air conditioning overhead blocks out everything else do you speak.

“You’re nothing if not persistent, MacTavish,” Putting your palms into your eyes, you press until you see stars and take a deep breath. 

Filling your lungs you hold the air trapped and begin to count to five, letting the tension in your shoulders leave as you breathe out. The room was empty of anyone else, white-walled, and tiled floors with rows of metal lockers you needed a key to get into. Digging into your vest pocket, you produce the one you would need to enter yours.

It was the one in the middle of the room, with access to the emergency door in the back and a clear view of the front door as well. Some traits stick with you when you join one of the best forces on the planet.

Since you lived around here, everything you would need was already in the locker, including a gray shirt, baggy sweats, fresh undergarments – thank God – and spare boots. Your duffel bag of belongings was still on the C-17 and set to go through inspection before you could get it back.

Groaning and deading the inevitable stack of reports you would have to go through, plus the thoughts of what to do tonight, you sit on the rickety wooden bench and begin to take off strap after strap of your uniform. 

“This is gonna be one hell of a problem, Isn’t it?” You mutter, body slouching with more and more fatigue as the seconds draw on. 

Maybe I should just stay here, You wonder to yourself, Say the hell with it to both of them and have a girl's night in. Watching a sad movie and crying over a bucket of fucking ice cream sounds better than fighting with Leon or trying to ignore John.

Chucking off your combat vest, you clench your jaw in agitation. Why couldn’t things be simple? Why couldn’t you just break it off with your boyfriend and be done? It was obvious the love that was there before was gone…but you had known Leon since high school. You bite your lip. There were so many good memories. 

John, as he usually does, weasels his way into your mind from the gaps. 

You unlock your locker and slam the door open so that the hinges rattle back in anguish. Shucking off your M13 your shaking hands all but toss the attached strap on the hook inside as you try to force the brown-haired Brit from your consciousness. You can’t call it love or lust, but somewhere in the spaces between missions and spent bullets you had grown fond of him in a way you couldn’t describe. John. Your Captain. 

As your knives and pistol are placed in the above cubie you run over hand over your face once more, pausing to breathe deeply before regaining motion. Putting your head on the locker’s cool metal corner, your eyes close tightly. 

The Black Op with Soap had been hard. You had been trying to strangle every emotion down like the ball in your throat when the Scot brought up Price or Leon during muttered conversations. 

“That’s why the Captain likes you so much, then!”

“The boy of yours is a pure dafty – why the hell would he say that to you?!”

“Price’ll have my head if you take another shot for me.”

“The two of you would make a fine looken’ couple, y’know. No missin’ the way he looks at you…Hey, now! I meant it as a compliment! Stop hitten’ me woman!”

You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Why were you feeling like this? Leon was a dick sure, but you both had fond memories together – you’d known him for more than half of your life! When you thought of someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with it was always…

Your eyes harden as reality sets in. 

John. 

“Fuck!” Reeling backward, you curl your left fist and send it right into the locker beside your own. 

Immediately a sparking of pain ripples down your limb like lighting, firing off nerves and heating the skin as blood rushes to the affected area. Hunching your shoulder’s in, you bite your tongue and tip your head down. 

Your heart is hammering so hard you hear it echo through the room, bouncing off the tall ceiling – Knock-knock. 

Blinking, you look up, staring in confusion into the depths of your locker before you realize that wasn’t your heart at all. 

A distinctly male voice calls your name from behind the barrier, and suddenly you know why they weren’t coming in. Closing your eyes and sighing, you back up and stare at the door silently. The man calls your name again, accent muffled as knuckles rasp.

Someone’s knocking on the door…? Why would they do that? You wondered, It’s unlocked.

“I know you’re in there – the Sergeant told me where I could find you,” You could imagine the person you had just been thinking about nodding as he always does during conversations; dark eyebrows animated, “ We need to have a word before you clean up, yeah?”

“Price?” You ask, face tightening as you recognize the speech pattern before he even finishes talking. Could you really not get a moment's peace around here? Shaking out your hand, which was bleeding by the knuckles and leaves droplets on the floor, you stutter out, “W-what are you doing in the girl’s barracks?”

Your heart was already running faster than it had a moment ago. You didn’t want to talk to him right now.

The Captain sighs behind the door, and under the crack you see a shadow shuffle from one foot to the other. His voice lowers, losing that formal tone for a second. Your body reacts even as you tell it not to, and your breath gets shallow and your pupils are blown wide. “Would you open the door so I can talk to you, please, Love? I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

Sucking down a breath your large muscle palpitates heavily behind your ribcage. Did you really have a choice?

John, separated from you but still sensing your hesitation, feels his eyes narrow. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about your last interaction before you left; the way your eyes were red-rimmed and dull. It had weighed on him more than he liked to admit for those few months, and it wasn’t like he could call to check-in. 

Black Ops meant no contact, and your safety was always his priority before anything else. He waited. So when Soap had knocked on John’s office door, the two of you back at Base unannounced, and had looked at him with creased eyes he had known immediately something was wrong. 

For a moment, his heart had stopped, thinking you were injured. But Johnny’s next words stopped him. 

“The girl’s been acting strange, Price. I can’t find any sense behind it – been that way damn near ever since we shipped out. Little Lady’s worrying me. She’s not right and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Maybe this was a mistake, John thinks, eyes narrowing as he itches at his beard, forcing the heated image in his mind away like it burned him. He didn’t know what he felt about you, but the knowledge that you had a boyfriend didn’t sway his sense of loyalty. Even if being around you made his chest tighten and his thoughts run.

If you were in the right headspace the door would have already been open. But then again you were in the locker room. The Captain’s head jerks back, trying not to imagine you naked just behind a thin barrier as his chest sucks in a sharp breath. 

It wasn’t his place to think of such things. To imagine you beautifully naked, laying under him and gasping out his name was…it was immoral. You deserve better than that. But damn it if the thought didn’t make his pants tighten.

A shadow moves under the door and Price straightens his spine, taking a step back before bringing his attention back to the present. Taking a deep breath, he lets it out slowly. 

Your hand lays on the door knob stiffly, shirt already untucked and boots unlaced. You probably looked a mess, you thought to yourself, sticking your tongue out of the side of your mouth with nerves. Freezing, your heart skips a beat.

Why did you care?

Growling under your breath, you swing the door open and plaster a smile over your bitten-to-hell lips that wouldn’t convince a blind man. 

“Sir,” You say, body coiled as your eyes trail your Captain’s figure.

John Price was the same man you remembered. Tall and fit, wearing an army green long-sleeved athletic shirt and cargo pants tucked into boots mirroring your own. Watching his muscles writhe, he crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head – where the old bucket hat sits covering his shorter brown locks. 

The hallway lights were doing wonders for his complexion. 

“Do…you need something, Price?” Maybe if you didn’t look at him your head wouldn’t get fuzzy? 

Your eyes shifted up and down the hallways as if you were doing something illegal, listening to his breath and the rattle of his throat as he made a sound. 

If people saw the two of you rumors would start; you could almost hear them now.

“Did you see her talking to Captain Price outside the locker room?!”

“Lord, doesn’t she have a boyfriend here in the city? I feel bad for him...She’ll start one hell of an internal investigation.”

“No loyalty at all. I bet she likes sneaking around. Hey, do you think she’s sleeping with him?! Holy fuck I bet she is!”

“--Love? Hey, hey, Love, look at me, would you?” You blink back to reality, clearing your throat and tensing as a hand levels on your shoulder. 

Staring at John’s chest, you shake your head.

“Sorry, Sir, just tired,” You attempt a chuckle but it sounds like a balloon deflating, “Long mission, you know?”

Your eyes are boring holes in John’s chest, not willing to move anywhere else as your face begins to burn. His hand was so firm, warm, how would it feel when it was digging into the flesh of your thighs? Your waist? Would he be rough like the calluses on his hands would imply? Or would he handle you delicately like his guns, flicking over the safety and caressing the cool metal?

Shut the fuck up!

A moment passes before you notice your Captain hadn’t responded to you. Frowning, you throw him a quick glance and see him intently looking at your clenched, shaking, left hand. His blue eyes are dark, lips frozen in a thin line that has your lungs shriveling and a shiver running down your spine. You try not to follow the tensing of his lower abdominal muscles or the shifting of his large hips as his feet move.

Stop it, You plead with yourself, Please just stop. This isn’t right. What’s wrong with me?

That was the moment you noticed the blood dripping down your fingers, flooding from split knuckles and dotting the floor in red. Widening your eyes, you snap the hand behind your back in panic, clothes rustling.

“Uh,” You fumble, pulse so loud you can hear it in your ear as sweat slicks the back of your neck. Stuttering, you can’t find the words to continue before John speaks.

“Tell me,” He orders, voice so baritone and raspy you feel it rattle in your stomach; at that moment it’s not John you’re speaking to – it’s your Captain. You move out of his hold but he takes a step forward anyways, “Now.”

Freezing, you gape like a fish, mouth moving but no words come out to grace the man’s ears. John’s heart is pounding, snapping from the hidden hand to your eyes that lack the spark they usually had. He hadn’t seen that bit of light in your eyes for a long time and ached to find out why. What had happened? Why were you avoiding him? You usually went straight to his office after you got back from being separated from him – even if you were full of blood and dirt with bags lining your eyes. 

John’s hands clench, jaw following suit. 

You sigh shakily, swallow down saliva, and try not to throw up. 

“I-I…” Moving your head, your fingers shake. How could you explain your situation? Tell your Captain – who you have complicated feelings for – that you wanted to end things with Leon because of him? Fuck, do you tell him how shitty your boyfriend’s been? That wasn’t his business and certainly not his problem. It was better if you held your tongue and suffered, a part of you knew, because the infection of misplaced guilt was wrapped around your heart like thorns.

John would think less of you for staying with Leon for this long; probably put you on leave to figure it out yourself. 

No, You try to tell yourself, He wouldn’t do that – this is John we’re talking about. He’s kind to me and, if anything, he’d be just as pissed as I am about it. 

That you knew was true. John would go to war to make sure you were alright; he had.

The man was silently standing, patient with you even as the telltale sign of concern and muted irritation were painted on his face. John had always been a gentleman – holding doors open for you, letting you sleep in when the nightmares got to you and left you huddled in a corner for hours. He had found your favorite candy on an Op in Italy and bought you some for fucks sake!

But nothing made sense anymore and everything felt like it was at a breaking point. You liked Price – and hated Leon – and that fact nearly sent you spiraling into hysterics. You had been with your boyfriend for so long; he had been everything to you. 

Leon had helped you get through deaths in your family, and before the fighting started, ordered you flowers when you came back from deployments; Leon cooked and cleaned without you having to ask. He knew your life story possibly better than you did, and you knew his.

Your entire life was spent with him. Who were you if all of it suddenly ended? Years of your life thrown away for nothing.

If there was one thing that everyone on Base knew besides that your boyfriend was a bitch, it was that you hated change more than anything. Ironic, considering the profession you were in. 

You just needed silence – space to breathe without getting suffocated. But maybe what you really wanted was for John to fucking hug you. To feel his bear arms wrap around you and squeeze the stubborn tears out of your eyes as you sob. When was the last time you actually cried, anyways? John would make it better; hold you like he cared about you. Like how he had in Madagascar when a bullet got lodged in your side. You swore you saw him cry that day, beautiful blues shiny as your blood pooled out of his heavy, adrenaline-shaking, fingers. The body of the man who jumped you both lay dead and filled with more metal than a construction zone not a few feet away, gurgling. 

That man was supposed to be the target – Hubert Antonin – and you were both supposed to bring him in alive; you never got execute authority. 

But Price had unloaded the clip on him right as you cried out in pain.

“Stay with me, Princess, c’mon. Keep your eyes open for me…Look at me, Love. Hey, I promised I’d get ya’ back safe. Don’t make me lie, now, yeah?”

A weak, velvety, chuckle meets the humid air. It was startling, watching him lose his composure like that.

“It b-burns, John. I…I can’t–”

“I know, Sweetheart, I know. I’ll get you fixed up and good to go soon, Copy? Just like new,” His wild eyes snapped back and forth as your eyesight gets blurry, lids flickering like a candle’s flame, “Where the fucken’ hell is Evac?!... No, no, no…What did I just tell you – Keep those eyes open, Muppet!”

When you were stable in the Med Ward of the local Base, the man had brought you to his chest, letting you feel the rampaging of his heart and the uneven breaths on the top of your head. His hands tightened over you, fingers brushing up and down over your arms. Like he was worshiping you just for living. For being there.

“Attagirl. Just let me hold you for a minute, yeah?” 

As you recovered, he never let you out of his sight. 

If you thought about it too hard, that was perhaps the first instance when you knew something was very wrong with you for liking the feeling of his skin touching yours. His body heat melting into you in such a tight embrace it left you crying into his chest in thankfulness. You had never felt that when hugging Leon – Leon hated hugs to the point you had to beg him to hold you. 

But thinking about that was just another pipedream. Nothing about John Price and yourself would ever come to light as being anything more than partners on the Task Force. 

He was your Captain. You were working under him. 

You had a boyfriend. John had a valuable asset. 

But you really wanted him to be yours. And, never mind how Price felt about you and if it was the same twisted form of disloyalty or lust, you still hated yourself for it. For feeling so deeply.

“No,” You respond blankly to John’s request for an explanation of…everything, but can’t look into his eyes to see the shock that sparks. 

John's shoulders tense, jaw going slack. He gains his senses, but it’s already too late. 

Jerking back into the locker room, you slam it shut behind you and snap the lock in place, feeling the quivering of your lips as the first sob builds. 

Your skin was dirty and layered with grime, hair matted, and gear in need of deep cleaning. But that feeling you carried didn’t change even as you took a shower, wiping away everything down a drain with red-tinged water as a shadow hesitated for a long moment before confidently moving away from the front door.

You still felt disgusting. 

—

Nothing you did made sense to him. 

John was walking away from the locker room with measured steps, head pounding. People passed by and gave him strange looks, but his eyes were dead ahead, glaring at everything and nothing at the same time. This wasn’t like you at all. 

She’s been acting strange for months, why haven’t I bloody checked in sooner? Your actions reminded him of a ghost – walking around the halls at night and steadily dimming. The whole team had seen it; how there was a weight eating at you. Price and the others had tried to get you to talk to no avail. 

I need to do something about this, He tells himself as a thought worms its way into his brain.

Could she be angry at me? Now that he thought about it, every time he was near you trying to engage in a conversation you froze and made some excuse to not speak. And with how you looked at him before you slammed the door in his face…John had stayed shell-shocked behind the barrier with half a mind to rush in and demand you tell him what was wrong. 

But he knew that would only make it worse.  

“She needs time to cool off,” He mutters under his breath, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers and holding his head for a moment, “Get her head on straight.”

But what if you never chose to seek him out after the fact? Could he handle that? 

Why do I want her to come to me when she’s hurting? He wonders with a clenched jaw.

Taking a corner and leaving the Women’s Barracks, John sighs as he walks on. His feelings were getting in the way again – his feelings about you that he had tried to choke down like whisky. Ironic, that it left the same burning sensation in his neck. There was only so much he could do about them, truth be told, because everything about you made the Captain want to disregard every order he’s given. 

It wasn’t right, it was the definition of wrong in both of your lines of work, but this was the one situation he didn’t know how to fix. So he kept silent. 

You had a boyfriend, and that was enough to stay his tongue and keep him watching from a distance.

John made it back to his office quickly and quietly, but would soon find that trying to get reports done was impossible. When his pen would hit the paper his mind would blank, and many times he would have to re-read the contents over and over to retain anything. 

“Fuck,” He breathes out, baring his teeth and leaning back in his chair. 

The most he could do was sit there and wait until tonight; hoping that the bar that Soap was bringing the Task Force to had good Whisky. 

Try as he might, he knows getting drunk would only make him think of you more.

—

The car ride to your house was spent in silence, a sheen of rain making the sky dark. Under you, the fake leather seats are cold, leaving you shivering even as you were wrapped in a thick sweatshirt and your spare cargo pants. Gripping the wheel tighter as the quiet road went on and on ahead of you, the street lamps shine on the old sidewalks corralling you in. 

You had made the tough decision to surprise Leon when you got home. 

Lips thinning, all you can hope is that the stewing anger that had been left behind had calmed and not worsened. But Leon held grudges, and, unfortunately, so did you. Your Grandma’s lamp still made your heart ache if you thought about it too much; left bitter tears and a bare esophagus behind.

He had stepped over a big line – one you weren’t sure you could forgive him for. Sighing and shaking your head, you watch the dark road as the chilled cloud of condensation is expelled from your mouth. It seems you had forgotten to turn the heat on too. 

Taking a turn, you pull the vehicle to a slow stop as its brakes squeal. Months of sitting in the Base’s underground garage would do that to you, but you still grimace at the noise that makes your face tense. Maybe Ghost would fix up your car like last time so you wouldn’t have to fork over a fortune at the dealership downtown. 

You can’t hide the small smile that comes at the idea. Simon pretended to be such a grump all the time, but he had his moments.

Coming to a full stop, you turn the car to park and look outside through the deluge. 

“At least that hasn’t changed,” You utter, breath fogging the window as lashes of rainwater race down the glass, “It still looks as perfect as ever.” 

The house was brightly lit, painted white, and had a large Oak door in the center. In the front, there was a black iron fence with a small gate and a latch. Looking, a prickly sensation enters your body and your fingers twitch over the wheel inexplicably. Your eyes run from one window to the other, all with warm light streaming out from behind the curtains, and furrow. With one hand you go to itch at your nose.

Why were all the lights on anyways? It’s like ten at night…Not the point, I’m stalling.

“Just go and speak to him,” You mutter to yourself, nodding firmly. But your lungs contracted in your ribcage in blatant retaliation. 

You wished playing therapist with yourself was easier.

Turning off the car and stuffing the keys in your pants pocket, you unclipped your seatbelt and turned to grab your small carry bag. Since the Base was so close there was really no need to bring your duffel bag. You’d be back there tomorrow for de-briefings with Price anyways; writing out papers and sighing confidentiality documents until your eyes bled. Would John bring you tea this time to help you stay awake? Or would he give you that look that meant – ‘Go to sleep right now, or do I have to order you to your bed?’

John would give in occasionally, and sit with you as you worked. He would read, or, you would take a break and play trivia with him; sometimes you asked him to tell stories. You really liked his stories. 

On even rarer cases, when the contents of the report brought up bad memories that left your face blank, he would tell you one of his tales unprompted. Usually, after that warm and selfless event, you would wake up back in your bed without the knowledge of ever falling asleep at all. But there would always be a note. Handwritten on your nightstand. 

John Price hand wrote you notes on crappy lined paper with his chicken scratch lettering. You remembered blushing every time you got one and had your favorite memorized word for word. It had meant so much to get one, Leon never wrote letters. 

“Guess my stories are more boring than I knew, Love, you passed out nearly immediately into the first one. Do me a favor, yeah, and sleep in today? Don’t worry about morning drills. I’ve already dismissed you. Sleep tight. 

– John”

Clenching your jaw, you shake your head and close your eyes. Thinking about seeing him tomorrow makes you sick.  

More opportunities to make a fool of myself and cause him to hate me. God, I fucking slammed a door in his face because I couldn’t get a grip. What’s wrong with me? He doesn’t deserve that.

You can’t keep living like this anymore, you try to tell yourself as you dig through your bag. Grabbing your phone, you’re about to shove it in your pocket beside the keys when it lights up, showcasing the wallpaper of you and the boys on a past Op from years ago. 

Everyone had their full gear on, weapons around fronts, and armed to the teeth. Full of blood and other substances. 

It was your favorite picture and you even had it printed out on your nightstand at Base.

John had his arm over your shoulder, staring at you softly with his head covered by his hat – which had burn marks on it – as you pointed a finger into Gaz’s smug, smile-split, face. Soap’s laughing and holding his stomach as Ghost at his side has a hand to his masked face in exasperation. 

You blink in surprise at the text message from your Sergeant as it pops up.

“Soap’s texting me?” Your mind wonders, and you roll your eyes, “I already said I wasn’t going out.” Not looking and turning your phone off, you shove it in your pocket but can’t hide the small sense of annoyance, “I spent four months with the guy in Russia, sorry, but I need a break from him before my brain explodes.”

Opening the car door, you flinch as rain batters your head and stains your clothes, but you just swing your bag over your shoulder and slam it shut behind you. Locking it with the fob, you make your way quickly to the front door, slipping past the metal gate without mishap and jogging over the lawn to the two front steps. Scaling them, you stand under the portico and look behind you, gazing up and down the street. You watch for a moment the family who lives across the street – they were watching a movie in the living room, huddled on the couch. 

Jerking your head back, you take out your house key and insert it into the lock with a grim face. Twisting, your skin shivers once more as a bout of wind shakes your baggy clothes just as you hear the familiar click of the front door unlocking. 

But that damn lamp. Grandma’s lamp. And John’s blue eyes filled with concern for you. His hands. 

When had this place stopped being home for you?

“Just speak to him,” You repeat a second time, gripping the doorknob, “Get it over with like an adult and forgive each other…” 

You clench your jaw and wrench the door open, shaking your head to dispel the water weighing the locks down like a wet dog. Stepping inside with heavy feet, you close the door quietly behind you and lock it. 

“Leon…?” You wonder out loud, slipping your gaze from the empty couch to the blaring TV as you slip off your boots. Muttering under your breath you add, “Where are you?”

“--And in more local news, the grand opening of the downtown café “Four Horseman” has wracked in a whopping profit of–”

Your fingers flicked off the news, the woman’s voice suddenly halting from the speakers. Frowning, your ears twitch. 

What’s that noise?

“Oh, Leon!” Freezing, your legs tense, hands at your sides gradually tightening into fists. Blinking in surprise, your heart begins to pump adrenaline through your veins with the efficiency of a racehorse. You don’t know that voice, “Just like that!”

But you weren’t stupid.

A certain type of dread infects your brain that leaves your mouth opening in shock; eyebrows peeling back to travel up your forehead. Before you tell yourself that it was better just to leave the house now, while your mind is unbroken, you can’t stop your already moving feet. 

You barrel down the hallway to get to the master bedroom, where you shove on the already partially open barrier with a heavy slam. Rage burns in your gut, spreading like a disease into the thin tissue and bleeding out; proliferating with relentless reach.  

Leon was over a random girl in your bed, half-naked and pants already being dragged down his hips by feminine legs. The woman was already bare, perfect skin glowing in the low light of red candles. 

Your rage freezes with a layer of thin ice, and your heart hammers. Sweat gathers in your clenched palms as the stranger’s scream enters the room. Both were already watching you in horror. Leon halts his actions of being knuckle-deep in the girl – the woman had seen you and snapped her hands to the ruined sheets of your bed to try and cover herself with a desperate scream.

“Leon?!” She yells out, face becoming bright as the scent of expensive perfume makes your nose twitch, “Who the fuck is that?!” 

Blankly, you turn your head to look at your boyfriend – former boyfriend. 

“Yeah, Leon,” You’re surprised by the firmness of your voice, the dead tone hurled out with no remorse. It betrays how you really feel. Tears burn the backs of your eyes, and your lungs hurt when you suck in quiet breaths to help your composure, “Do you wanna explain who I am? Or just how you’re fucking another woman on our bed.”

Leon’s eyes are comically wide, mouth agape and fluttering. Cruel satisfaction brews in your heart as your lips flicker into a dark smirk; anger was better than tears, you decided. 

“Our bed?! You said you were single!” The woman gasps, snapping her head to the man still above her, “Get the hell off me!” 

Shoving Leon, you watch the girl scramble to grab her clothes all over the floor as she apologizes to you. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that he had–”

“Just get out, please,” You mutter under your breath, and the lady zips past with her shirt only half on and her bra hooked between her fingers. 

“Baby,” Leon looks like he’s about to cry, getting to his knees on the mattress and you catch a glimpse of his boxers with cows printed on them. 

Before you had found those enduring – maybe even cute in a dorkish sort of way – but now you realized it was just pathetic. He was pathetic.

“Baby, I swear this isn’t what it looks like!” His fingers are glistening, and his pants are stained. 

You blankly stare at the stranger who inhabits your ex’s body and say nothing back; watching as Leon scrambles for an explanation that changes nothing. There was an absence of anything you loved in this house. 

“Hope it was worth it,” Blankly speaking, you turn around and leave, feet slamming into the floor as Leon calls to you pleadingly. 

“Please! I didn’t–” His voice cuts out as a thump echoes over the home, like someone falling out of a bed before a yelp takes its place. Not slowing, you slip your boots on and unlock the front door. 

Just as fast footsteps rush to the foyer you slam the door behind your back and descend the steps, no longer caring about the rain as you walk in a trance-like state. It hadn’t really hit you yet what had happened, but it was starting too. 

Your breath was getting thinner, hands shaking as your shoulders hunched and waterfalls down your face and neck. The bag over your shoulder is now ten times heavier than it was before.

The door slams open just as you exit the black-iron gate and unlock your car.

“Babe, come back inside, let's talk about this!” Leon screams, and his bare feet seem to slap over the drowned lawn, “You just need to sit down and I’ll speak and explain why I’ve been sleeping with Maxine!”

Your hand freezes on the car handle, slick metal stuck under your grip. 

You whirl around with fire in your eyes, lips snarling.

“Sleeping!?” With your face contouring, your loud voice carries over the storm as Leon – who had gotten quite close by now – reels back a step, “As in this has happened before, you goddamn prick?! How long have you been cheating on me while I’ve been risking my fucking life to get back home to you?!”

Leon’s face twists as you look him in the eyes, nose scrunching.

“Oh, don’t stay on your high horse,” He growls, hands animating his words as you try and keep your cool, “We both know you’ve been cheating far longer than I have.”

“Do we?!” It’s past the point of sense now, and the other lights from the once-dark houses begin flickering their outside lights on from all the noise, “I’ve never fucked anyone while I was out, Leon. You can’t say that, can you?!” 

“You don’t need someone to stick their dick in you to cheat. You’re just as bad as me – John Price must be one helluva guy to ruin a relationship that started when we were teenagers.”

Your breath stutters, and after a moment of shocked silence you shake your head in disbelief, “You’re a bastard, Leon…I wish I’d never met you. Wish I’d never wasted my time with a pathetic man like you. Maybe John is one helluva guy, hm? Maybe I’ll have to tell him that myself.”

Leon’s eyes were red, and his lips, just like yours, quivered as he tried to come up with an answer. You turn around before you can sob and reach for the door once more. 

A heavy weight settled on your arm, your Ex’s fingers suddenly squeezing your skin so hard your lips let loose a muted gasp. Trying to rip your arm away, you tilt your head to look back at Leon.

“Let go of me,” You say the words slowly, feeling rainwater travel down the bridge of your nose and splash to your shoulder, “Now.”

Leon’s hand only tightens, and you hiss, feeling blood vessels pop under the pressure.

“You’re coming back inside and you’re going to listen to what I tell you,” Leon leans closer, eyes dark, “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an–”

Your fist connects with his cheek, and a second later you’re nursing your sensitive knuckles, shaking out your hand and grimacing. Whining reminiscent of a wounded duck rips over the night, and, gripping at his face, Leon lays on the ground half-naked and less of a man than he’d ever been – which was an achievement, to say the least. 

You should have broken up with him years ago. John would never treat you like this.

Getting into your car, you sit down and lock the doors behind you as you insert the key, twisting and feeling it jerking to life. With morbid curiosity, you turn to the opposite window and look at the house across the street.

The family was at the window, no longer enraptured by their TV, and the mother had a hand over her mouth. She was in the process of turning her children away from the scene as the other parent stood watching, slack-jawed. 

Blinking, you don’t know if it’s tears or rain that you’re forcing away from your eyes, but the burning tells you which option you should put your money on. Wiping at your face and sucking down shuddering breaths, you press on the pedal and peel away from the white house with a large Oak door. Taking a peak at the mirror, you spy a man trying to get back to his feet but stumbles, falling once more and slamming into a puddle. 

Driving, you only make it to the next street before you park on the side of the road, your whole body shaking and gasping for breath. With the adrenaline dying down, the pain in your arm becomes prominent, making pain spark as you shift it. The area would most likely bruise. 

Your lips twist and a small whimper leaves your mouth. You smack your forehead to the wheel, hands falling like lead to your lap as a sniffle weasels its way out; tears begin to smack your thighs, gradually increasing until you were concerned your car would flood. 

Crying was never your thing. With all the sights you’d seen, tears felt so small compared to every other horror – they meant nothing in the grand scheme of events taking place. All they were good at was making your nose run and your skin get hot. 

John’s seen me cry before, Your thoughts are running so fast it’s a strange circumstance that they stop when your Captain’s name is filtered through. 

Price had found you in the bathroom, covered in dried blood and shaking just as you were in the present. There had been an accident on the recent Op – a kid had gotten caught in the crossfire and had taken a bullet to the stomach. You had held him as he died; seen the light in his eyes leave in one fell swoop as you drowned in his blood trying to stop the bleeding.

That was what led up to you rushing off the Helo, finding the first bathroom on Base, and rushing inside to throw your guts up. John, of course, had followed close at your heels with fast feet.

“Love,” He said from outside the door slowly, “I’m coming in.” 

Shell-shocked, your hands were strained as you gripped the sides of the toilet, not even picking up on the concern leaking from his tone. Wide-eyed, you stare blankly at the vile contents inside the bowl – throat burning with acid as the image of that dying kid plays on repeat. 

The door opens hesitantly as if any major noise would break you, the hinges squeaking. A pair of feet carefully pad over the tile towards your hunched figure. When his hand slides over your back, his shadow comes to encompass you, shrouding you in its comforting darkness. He made it better.

John’s grip slides back and forth over the gear and other objects along your figure. You hadn’t bothered to take anything off, in fact, your gun was still strapped around your chest and weighing you down. It hit against the toilet with a ‘clink’ every time you moved.

“Sweetheart?” John mutters, body curling around yours.

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You say the words numbly as you glance at the blood on your hands with muted horror, “I…I…He should have been with the other civilians. He wasn’t…”

“I know,” Price whispers, grunting, watching you as your mind breaks to try and think through this, “I know, Love.”

When he knows your stomach has settled, you feel him carefully grab your shoulders and lean you back against the opposite wall. It was like a ramshackle hug, but the feeling of his body pressing into yours made you fall limp. You were safe here. Protected. His fingers go to your weapon, taking it off of you and setting it on the ground as he knees at your side. Soon after goes the combat vest, John pulling at the velcro with confidence. Your body jerks as he peels it off. 

“Lift your arms for me, yeah?” Doing as he says, the article is set by your gun and pushed aside, “Attagirl, just like that.”

The man keeps a hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth. He was closer than he needed to be, but that was alright. 

Looking down, your thousand-yard stare locks to the blood staining your skin, getting stuck in the grooves and the beds of your nails. Would water even wash it off? You had wondered in silent panic. What if it never came off? John’s other hand gravitates to your cheek and the increased sound of your breath is accented by a sharp inhale.

Blinking to push back the nothingness of your gaze, tears dribble from your tear ducts as your eyes lock with his. 

John looked so sad. 

His expression was pained, lips downturned and eyes painfully narrowed on your form; his eyebrows were pressed in on his forehead, curing in the center and creating creases over his flesh. The beard – still filled with dirt and grime – moved as his lips did.

“Focus on me, alright?” You nod, shakily, and watch his optics flick from one part of your face to another, “That wasn’t your fault.” 

“John,” You whimper, the dam breaking every moment his fingers move and caress your skin. His grip travels to the back of your neck and brings your face to his shoulder, letting you sag into him on a dirty bathroom floor. 

“It’s okay,” He mutters into your hair, lips moving as your hands snap to dig into his vest. His hat was pressing into your scalp – grounding you in the present just as his heartbeat was. The muscle was strong in his chest, pounding, “It’s all gonna be alright, Kid. I need you to know it wasn’t your fault,” John sighs, trying to draw you closer, “You did the best you could. I’m proud of you.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You sob, and repeat the sentence once more, like, if you did, whatever God out there would bring the boy back to life. Your lips pull back in pain, wails exiting. 

“I know,” John responded, voice so low your sounds of anguish almost covered it up. His grip tightens, and he lays a kiss on the top of your head. 

You knew, then, that John would give anything to take away your pain. But what he didn’t know was that you would replay his words in your mind to stave off the nightmares – use the image of his face to bring you stability when you woke up mid panic attack. 

It was the only time you didn’t hate crying, because John’s warmth had made it better. Had made it mean something. 

You both spend a long time on that bathroom floor.

When you had spent at least an hour collecting your thoughts in that frigid car, you finally checked your phone. 

Fifty-seven missed calls and thirty-five texts from Leon. Chuckling humorlessly and shaking your head in disbelief, you block him with a quick tap; it was over. You’re about to chuck the phone and go back to Base, but then you pause, eyes locking on a single text notification left on the screen.

Soap: If ya change your mind….’Bottom’s Up Bar’… ;)

He lists the address just below, and your eyes bore into it.

“Fuck it,” Your hoarse voice echoes out in the cool car air, “I need a drink anyways.”

—

Price sits on the bar stool in a black woolen trench coat and a dark beanie, nursing a glass of whisky in his hands that rests against the counter. 

“What’s with the long face, Captain,” Gaz sits at his side, the stools under them uncomfortable and threatening to give out from under them if one happens to take too deep a breath. Soap and Ghost are over playing pool, and the TV behind the counter was showing reruns of some hockey game that was absent of watchers. No one else was there beside them, “Whisky not up to par?” 

“It tastes like piss water,” John mutters but still brings the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip, “But I’ve had worse, Sergeant. You?” 

Gaz smirks, “I’ve had worse…Just tell Soap that I’m never letting him pick the bar ever again. Man’s bloody taste buds must be burned off if he calls this quality.” 

John grunts, tilting his head to the side in an affirmative nod. 

The area lapses into silence, the sound of billiard balls connecting to a cue stick loud as the smell of tobacco and cheap beer perforated the air. There weren’t any civvies left in the old-style building, and outside the rainstorm pounded against the front windows deterring anyone from venturing outside. The group probably should have stayed on Base, but Johnny had been insistent to the point everyone just gave in to the Scot’s demands.

After all, what harm could one drink do? They were all tired.

“Do you think she’ll show?” Gaz asks as the TV erupts with cheers; someone had scored, apparently. The Captain was never one for hockey – Liverpool was his go-to for football teams, and that was about it. In fact, he had a game to catch up on later if he could get the hell out of here in a timely fashion.

Gaz’s question makes the man lightly startle, sliding his gaze to his Sergeant with a sharply raised brow. He brings the glass to his lips once more and takes a swig, missing out on the burn that was found in his own Whisky stash back at his flat in London. It’s not hard to tell who Gaz is talking about. 

“Unlikely,” John speaks through a sigh, going back to mindlessly watching the television as the bartender filters past to clean a table in the far corner. Soap cheers from the pool table, “Her…boyfriend’s making her dinner. Always does when she gets back.”

“Hm,” Gaz chuffs, “Lucky sod,” The Sergeant pauses, and John takes a deep breath at the mischievous tone the man beside him earns. It was too late at night for this bullshit, “I bet you wouldn’t mind having the girl in your home while you make her supper, eh, Cap?”

“Garrick,” Price says the last name slowly, fingers tightening over the cup on the table, “You want to be on sanitation duty for a month – two?”

“...Sir?” Letting out a nervous chuckle, Gaz sends a quick glance to Soap whose ears had quirked at the conversation a few feet away.

“Then I suggest you stop acting like a Muppet and mind your damn business. The girl is her own woman and deserves her privacy,” John sends a narrowed glance with a quirked eyebrow and a warning in his suddenly darker eyes, “Copy?”

“Copy, Sir…Apologies.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” John levels, twirling his glass in his large fingers before tossing back the last remnants inside. Swallowing, he stands and fixes the position of his beanie, feeling his bones creak with fatigue. 

To everyone at the bar, Price looked annoyed that you had been brought up, but those who knew him best could tell that much more was going on. The man had kept the side of his eye on the front door the entire time 141 had been at the bar, shoe tapping against the dark wood floors as hours passed. Even more telling, Gaz had noticed that John had only had one glass of Whisky tonight – even if it tasted horrible the Captain was bound to drink at least three when they all went out. 

It was tradition; everyone knew it. Captain Price of the 141 always had three glasses. Always. You would attest to that, considering that when you tagged along you made fun of him for it. 

“You always have three glasses – I’ve never, for the life of me, figured out why it's always three! Do you never think ‘Oh, gee golly, maybe I’ll bloody have another lad, be a merry good Muppet and pour me another, yeah?’’

Your horrendously exaggerated British accent led to a few snickers that night, and Gaz had seen his Captain’s full body laugh for the first time; watching John sputtering as he coughed down the drink he had been sipping from. 

“Love,” The man had stared at you with a deep smile, eyes crinkling, “Whatever just came out of your mouth, yeah? Never do that in my presence again. Accent’s shaken’ more than your hands when you have to stitch me up.” 

“My stitches aren’t that bad, Asshat! You just move too fucken’ much!”

John scratches his forehead in the present and brushes off his jacket. 

“Alright, Muppets…I think that’s it for the–” 

The bell at the front door jingles. 

Snapping his head over, Price freezes just as he sticks his hands in his jeans pockets, the grumbled words dying on his parted lips. 

A figure was standing at the entrance, soaked to the bone and shivering like a sphinx cat in a snowstorm; water dripped from her nose to the rug. John’s jaw slightly slackens, eyes wide and snapping back and forth. 

You were standing there, eyes gravitating from Soap and Ghost’s pool game – which had halted immediately at your sudden presence – until you blink a raindrop from your eyelashes and lock eyes with John. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Your voice sounds like gravel, Price notes, head slowly tilting to try and understand why His legs had to tense to stop him from rushing over, his training alerting him to the redness of your eyes. You had been crying, why? “Storm’s coming down pretty hard, huh?” Attempting a chuckle, it seems to fall flat.

“Holy shit, Love,” Gaz mutters, snatching a rag from behind the counter of the bar and ignoring the complaints from the worker. He rushes past John, who continues to stare at you and fight his own subconscious, “Did you walk here?”

The Sergeant blinks at you in concern, eyes filtering up and down your body as he stands close and holds aloft the fabric.

“Nah,” Price watched you snatch the towel, going to pat it on your face and neck – running it over your hair and gripping, “Was outside for a little bit, but I came in the car…Oh, speaking of that, Simon,” You turn to the large man who bores his eyes into your face, “The brakes are acting up again – you think you could fix it up back on Base in your free time?”

Ghost taps the cue stick against the ground, lips behind his balaclava shifting as he speaks, “You goin’ to make me fix it up every time you get back? What do I look like, Bird? A mechanic?”

A weak smirk flickers over your lips, but John notices a particular bleakness in your eyes. Soap, who thus far had been strangely quiet, looks at him with flat lips and a small shake of his mohawked head.

Enough is enough, Price decides with a stubble tilt of his forehead, I’ve given her the space she needs – she’s telling me everything. Tonight.

His jaw clenches, and he pulls his hands out of his pockets just to cross them over his chest when you respond to Simon.

“I’ll clean your clothes for a month.” 

“...Two.”

“Deal,” Nodding, you smile at Gaz in thanks and splay the towel over the banister beside you to help it dry, “Thanks, Gaz.”

“What happened to dinner with the Stoter?” Soap finally speaks as you make your way farther into the building. You send him a quick glance as you walk closer to John at the booth. The Scot levels you with a heavy stare, feet shoulder-length apart and jaw clicking, “He do something?” 

A tense silence falls, and all the men send each other looks as you slink to the bar, jumping up on a stool and clearing your throat. You itch at the side of your bicep as you lick your lips in hesitation. 

Why were you not saying anything?

John buries his fingernails into the meat of his arms, taking your lack of answer like a knife to the chest. It was like a switch had flipped as he saw your expression drop for a millisecond, layers cracking like you were barely held together. The veins in the Captain’s arms were flooded with blood, and his hands showed white knuckles. 

There was a terrible reality settling behind his eyelids, and the man wasn’t in his job position because he was anything less than an observer. He was angry, that much was obvious by his tight jaw and dangerous eyes on the side of your face. 

But there was something more important than revenge, and she was sitting right in front of him.

Your clothes are still dripping with water, and without hesitating when he spies you shiver, John shakes off his jacket and spreads it softly over your shoulders. When you jerk back in surprise he feels a part of him break, but steadies you with a thin quirk of his lips and pulls the front of the woolen material farther over your form.

What’s that fucken’ prat done to her? He growls internally, Mark my words…

The Captain’s eyes carefully narrow, orbs sliding over your face. His thumb goes to swipe a tear of water from your hairline and breathes out a sigh when your eyelids flutter.

Looking at your Captain with vulnerable eyes, you answer Soap’s question with a muttered, defeated, tone. It was like you were talking to your superior and not the man at the pool table.

“We...uh, I, broke up with him,” A moment of silence. Two. 

John feels like he’s frozen in time, his body stiff, and his lungs shell-shocked. But in the farthest, most forced-down bits of his consciousness, he thinks there’s a part of him that’s…Christ, is he happy?

He nearly has to turn and leave to take a breather – gain his composure at his own disgusting thoughts – but your eyes hold him captive, unblinking despite the revelation.

You had…broken up with Leon. Your boyfriend.

John’s eyes slowly widen. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

—

“Well, It’s about damn time,” Soap interjects into the moment, gleeful, and you feel your eyes slip away from the cerulean blues of John’s widened sockets, in favor of the table-top, “Erm, no offense, of course, but that’s great news!”

“Shut up!” Gaz hisses, going over to slap at MacTavish’s arm, “Can’t you see she’s bloody gutted about it – idiot!” 

“Hey, now. That excuse for a man was in no way worthy of being with a beauty like her–”

“Johnny,” Ghost utters lowly, the only one able to see your quickly deteriorating state besides the Captain who tries to comfort you, “Shut your trap.”

“C’mon L.t, you had to have seen how he…” Soap stops, finally looking at you, and the chuckle that had been building in his throat dissolved. 

A hand settles on your shoulder, and you blink out of your trance, slowly turning your head to look out of the corner of your eye. John squeezes, and you find that his grip over his gifted jacket is warmer than anything you remember. But you don’t look at his face, instead, you tilt your head down and fold your arms on the counter, slotting your skull in the middle of them. 

John’s hand gravitates to your back and rubs small circles, and above you, he mutters, “Talk to me, Love.”

“He…” You interrupt, hands tightening into fists. Your eyes burned something fierce, but you can just blame the shaking of your body on the wet clothes, “I was going to surprise him. He didn’t know that I was back in town yet, anyways. But, uh, he’s been cheating on me, I guess…Found ‘em in bed.”

Price’s hand stutters over its coarse, but he clears his throat and continues as your stomach tightens, 

“Son of a fucken’ bastard,” Simon’s the first one to speak – which would have surprised you if you’d been paying attention, “That prick did what?” 

Gaz murmurs, “Shit..,” off to the side, but your hidden gaze doesn’t bother to move as Soap lets off a string of curses and insults on Leon’s name. 

The hand over your back is intoxicating, and you feel drunk as you focus on it. John’s fingers dig into his jacket, but just enough for you to feel his nails create a light stimulation through the layers. There was a sense to his actions, you know. He was trying to ground you; he wanted you to focus on his caress. 

You didn’t want to admit how well it was working.

But it was a good thing he did because you have a feeling if he wasn’t there you’d be replaying the events of tonight in your mind one after the other like a fucked up movie.

Leon really did that, You suck in a shaky breath that leaves John moving closer, and you hear muttered conversations from above you, All of those years…Did I really miss something as obvious as him cheating on me? 

It couldn’t be helped.

When you came back from deployments your mind let go of the hyper-focus that was ingrained into you – that Price had ingrained into you – and settled into a haze of sanctity. Home meant food, sleep, and a place of comfort. But when the fighting started you suppose a part of that focus came back to you, blocking out everything that didn’t matter. 

Missing pictures, clothes stuffed where they shouldn’t be, your hair products hidden. They were pointless in the grand scheme of things because you were at battle in your own house. It was small compared to your breaking relationship. 

Maybe that’s when I stopped loving him, You reason, and it’s the first time you admit you didn’t care about Leon in that way anymore, When the fighting started. Did I unconsciously know what he’d done?

You had been more irritable when you were back at the house, some fights even instigated by you.

“But how did I miss it…?” You can’t help but whisper, strained, into the woodgrain of the counter in your cocoon. 

“None of that,” John suddenly says, voice low, and his hand over you halts, “That’s a good way to mess your head up, that is, Love. Just stay here.” 

Shivering, you sniffle, lungs stuttering and with a hot face stained with embarrassment, you whimper out, “I’m such an idiot.” 

The stool beside you screeches as it’s pulled out. 

“You say that again I’m leaving you on desk rotation for a week,” John grunts, and from your hiding place your head shifts, one eye peeking out from over your arm. You find the man glaring at you so heatedly you pause as tears start to leak down your cheeks once more, “I mean it. None of that bullshit – you are not at fault – that,” He pauses, and you see his chest sputter as he tries to collect himself. Price’s eyes flash with rage before it’s gone in an instant, “That’s the bloody bastard’s cross to carry, Love. Understand me?”

You stare at him; at his boiling blue eyes as the sound of a hockey game plays in the background of this shitty bar. The warm lights overhead gather in them to flicker like stars when he blinks, creating constellations for you to memorize when his eyelids once more pull back.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He levels, head with that black beanie tilting closer, “Copy?”

“Copy,” You croak out, blinking to clear the fuzziness of your eyes. Reaching one of your hands, you pull the jacket closer around your neck. It smells like John, and whether you notice it or not, the tension in your muscles leaks when you inhale smoke, pine trees, and gunpowder. 

Patting you on the back, the man stares into you, optics stuck on the image of your tear-stained cheeks and dripping hair. His trench coat was most likely going to be soaked, but he found he didn’t care. If it brought you comfort, the outrageous price he paid for it would be made back tenfold. Maybe he’d even let you keep it; didn’t matter if it was his favorite, he would give you the shirt off his back if you asked for it. 

Not able to stop the words coming out of his mouth when you meet his gaze with fluttering eyelashes, John speaks once more as he feels the gazes of his teammates around him. But the words came easily.

“You didn’t deserve to come home to that. That boy doesn’t know what he’s just lost, alright?” When he sees your cheeks move in a small, barely-there smile, and the way your eyes lit with embers at his teasing tone, the Captain let a smirk of his own fall. But he still refused to speak Leon’s name aloud – his own anger was held on a thin string that was fraying by the moment. You? Getting cheated on? Who in their right mind would do that?! The Muppet didn’t deserve to have your perfect ears twitch at his name ever again, “At least tell me you ripped him a new pair, Love? If not, I’ll have to review your training exercises. Maybe add in a bracket for hand-to-hand.”

“...I might have sucker-punched him.”

John’s chuckle is velvet as it slips through your eardrums. 

“Attagirl, I’d have paid to see that, I wager. Everyone knows you throw a heavy hand,” Your giggle makes his heart soar; beat violently in his breast.

He’d give everything to hear you make that noise again. 

“Did it down him?” Your head slowly peaks up farther, perfect chin now visible. Your short-lived tears had stopped.

“Twirled like a dancer on a string.”

“Bloody brilliant, my girl. Bloody fucken’ brilliant.” Nodding, John smiles, beard pulling back to show pearl-white teeth, and claps your shoulder.

You love the way he makes you feel, like everything you do is well-thought-out and not just spur of the moment. Creasing your eyelids, you rub at your cheeks to try and wipe away the heat of them, knowing that wouldn’t work but still trying. John made your brain pump with dopamine, giddiness striking you in the chest like a bullet with a simple smile and his hand on your back. 

…Why was his hand still on your back? 

“This place got any good drinks?” You ask, trying not to look so entranced by the man in front of you. 

John’s grip slips away and you hate that you want to snatch at it; feel the calluses burn your skin and dig into sensitive flesh. Breaking up with Leon had given you an adrenaline spike, one that lasted so long you were still riding it – only just now was the raging of your heart beginning to still.

It was a bad thought, you told yourself, a horrible thought to have right now…but damn it if John didn’t look like the solution to all of your problems, that yearning urge to feel good.

Leon was gone.

“Hm,” Your Captain murmurs, and your trailing eyes snap from his tight athletic shirt to his face. John turns himself to the front, grunting and setting his elbows on the counter, he lifts one finger up into the air to the frowning bartender and sends you a glace, “Unfortunately, MacTavish picked a place before I could verify,” The bartender thumps over and the Captain confidently says, “One Old Fashioned for the lady, and a refill for me, yeah?”

The bartender's eyebrows furrow, “Old Fashioned? What the hell is that?”

John’s body stills, and his face blanks as if he’s been personally offended. Laughing, you move back from the counter, hopping off the stool and going to stand near your Captain. Resting a hand on his shoulder, you tilt your head when his full attention whips to you. 

His eyes glance at your hand before they settle; softening around the cold edges as the pupils widen. You nearly lose your breath at the sight…It made you want to snatch that hat off his head and make him chase you down for it; hold you to his chest and squeeze.

Stop it.

“I think I’m gonna head back to Base,” You say aloud, “Hang out in the Rec room and go to bed early. Maybe get a headstart on reports for tomorrow,” Looking back at the boys, you begin taking off Price’s trench coat, small hesitations in your nerves showing how much you wanted to keep it around you. But you needed to leave – clear your head without John’s scent making you hazy, “Don’t stay out too long, boys, I’m not coming to drag you back.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Simon utters, knocking a billiard ball and watching the ricochets. He sends you a guarded look, numb eyes running over you, “Drive safe. Weathers looken’ like it's letting up, but don’t trust it.”

“Right,” You nod. You know what he really means.

Gaz is watching you and sending quick glances to Soap with his dark eyes, and you see the Scot clenching his stick with a white-knuckled grip – blue eyes glaring at the table with a clenched jaw and tensing biceps. Like he was itching to lay someone on the ground and wale on them.

Your lips twitch. Soap had been by your side for four months; watching your back just as you had his. That creates a bond of brotherhood that can’t be overlooked. The stocky man was perhaps more upset about this ordeal than you were, now that you thought about it. The Task Force didn’t even know the extent of your fights with Leon – they’d kill him if they did. 

If you even mentioned your Grandma’s lamp, the boys would rip your Ex apart. 

“Suds,” Calling out, you fold John’s jacket over your arm. Soap whips his head to you, blinking back to focus.

“Yeah, Little Lady. You need something?”

“I need you to stop strangling the Cue Stick. You’re gonna break it before Simon can beat you, and that would just be embarrassing,” Soap stares at you, mouth slightly open, before he snaps to his iron grip and unclenches his hand. 

“R-right,” The Scot’s eyes crease, and he itches at his mohawk with his free hand. A pause, “Are you…alright?”

You hesitate, looking to the floor as your feet shuffle before your right yourself, “I will be.” 

Turning to John, you hold out your arm and feel heat on the tips of your ears when he’s already meeting your line of sight.

“Sorry about the water,” Trying not to let out a weak chuckle, you fail, “It looked pretty expensive just to be ruined by me. I’ll pay you for the dry cleaning bill.”

Price grunts, already shaking his head and lightly gripping you by the arm to push the jacket back to you. He stands up and you suck in a quick breath, nose nearly brushing his peck from how close you both were.

“You’ll need it,” Your eyebrows crease, not understanding, as he smirks at you, “What kind of Captain would I be if I let you drive back alone after all this?” John grumbles, shaking his head and pulling out his wallet, “I’m driven’ that’s an order.” 

He tosses a fifty on the table for the bill and nods to the boys over your head, an authoritative tone leaking out. You don’t move away from him, letting his body heat leave you shivering and taking in shallow breaths. Try as you might, your mouth denies to refuse him.

“Be back on Base by 0100 and up for drills at 0500. It’s your fault if you Muppets only get five hours of sleep,” John lays a hand behind your shoulder blades and you let him guide you to the door, “Soap – you’re due for debriefs at 0800 in my office. I expect you to be punctual.”

A quiet grunt carries over the space.

You slip on the jacket, clearly seeing that John wouldn’t let up on this. Maybe…maybe you wouldn’t mind the company of the large-bodied Captain. Already the pain of being cheated on was dull when he was around. But would you be able to focus if he was right by you like this? You doubted it.

Slapping Gaz on the shoulder as you pass him, he sends you a soft look and utters, “Get some sleep, Love, alright? It’ll all be better in the morning. I’ll make sure the boys are back at Base soon so you don’t have to worry about ‘em.”

“Thanks, Garrick. Means a lot. I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“You bet.”

“Behave, Sergeant,” John makes it to the door, opening it for you and feeling the draft enter, “Ghost,” The manchester man tilts his covered head from where he stands bent over the pool table, “watch these two, yeah?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hey–!” 

“What in the–!” 

Price lets the door slam shut and whispers past your smile-split face, watching through the window as Soap and Gaz level offended gazes out at the Captain through the racing raindrops on the glass. Simon stands a bit straighter and once again scores on Johnny. 

“They’re going to hold a grudge for weeks, John. Putting Ghost in charge of them when they’re on leave? Really? He’s never going to let the two live it down,” You say above the rain as you lead him to where your car is parked on the street, cheekiness littering your words.

“Let ‘em,” Price scoffs, and you feel his hands go to the jacket, puffing the collar up for you. Blinking away the rain, you smile shyly at the action, “not goin’ to change that they still have to get up tomorrow. After a twenty-mile run, I’m sure they’ll be too knackered to care, eh?”

“Hm,” You affirm, envisioning the future in your head with sadistic pleasure, and reach into your pocket. Tossing your keys into the air, John catches them effortlessly with a fast fist, only a small clink of the metal connecting heard.  

You feel his eyes on you as you walk down the street, steadying you with a hand on your back even if he knew you were capable of walking by yourself. Above all, John was a gentleman – whenever you were with him, he always walked near the road, kept a hand in the small of your back, and watched the street with roaming eyes.

This was the first time you’d felt his gaze completely set on you. Had he always done that? No, you knew, but recalled something from the back of your mind as you side-stepped a puddle, moving closer to John unconsciously. His hand’s weight becomes more prominent, angling you into his hold. 

After Madagascar was when he had started looking at you more often...you had thought it was because of the injury, but was it?

Shaking away the thought, you quickly make it to your car and leave Price’s steady side, hand resting on the handle. The familiar sound of the lock clicking open has you rushing inside to escape the pitter-patter of rain on your skull. Snapping the door shut, John in the driver’s seat does the same.

You both look at each other, and can’t help the chuckles at the disheveled looks you both share.

“Wind-swept hair would look dashing on you, Captain,” You tease, nose crinkling as you shake your head. The beanie on the man’s head was weighed down and John grimaces at the feeling, glaring up at it before peeling it off his head. 

His free hand goes to his hair, ruffling it to dispel some of the water. 

“Bloody rain,” He mutters, sparing you a look only to find you’re watching intently with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

A tension grows, and for the first time, you don’t push the feeling away. Your smirk slowly slips, going slack as you watch water drip from John’s nose. The world outside the car seems to blur, and nothing but the pair of you exist in this state of perpetual stillness. John’s eyes are such a shade of blue you have to wonder if you could ever look at the ocean again and not think of him, or even smell smoke on the street and not search him out. 

You shouldn’t be feeling like this about him, but how could you not?

“You’re staring, Love,” John mutters, and you blink, shocked, but the man makes no move to stop looking right back at you in turn. His beard shifts as his jaw moves, bristles accented by the light of the street lamps.

“Well, so are you,” Teasing, you send a nervous smile before shifting away to clip your seatbelt in place. 

His hand stops you halfway, covering your own with a large grip as his fingers glide over your skin leaving white-hot sparks. Freezing you watch as Price’s hand squeezes yours and helps you lock the seatbelt into the clip. The man’s hand stays there a moment longer as you, wide-eyed, feel your fingers twitch under his; memorizing the feel of them.

“Thank you, John,” You breathe, and your grip moves, turning to capture his own and curl his fingers into yours. He flinches, before loosening and he studies your face, cerulean blue jumping from one spot on your visage to another, “For everything.” 

The man’s body stills and he blinks down at you. His breath is shallow, rattling in his chest. Something was in his eyes you couldn’t name.

“...Anytime, Dear.”

Price’s hand falls from your hold and leaves to gravitate toward the keys in the ignition. He twists them, and immediately the shaking of the car tells you it’ll survive one more day. Settling farther into John’s jacket you nuzzle your head into the fabric, curling your arms around your middle and resting your eyes. You try to calm your raging heart as the car peels out into the road, breathing through the stuffy air that smells so much like the two of you.

The ride to Base is quiet, but not at all like the kind of silence that had suffocated you on the journey back to Leon’s home – this was a comforting silence. Once you might not have understood what that meant. After all, how could a lack of sound leave your eyelids heavy and a floating feeling in your head? 

When the parking garage gate opened, you had blinked awake. 

Did I fall asleep? Rubbing at your eyes, the crick in the back of your neck told you all you needed to know. Groaning, a small chuckle to your side leaves you turning to face John, who carefully drives down the ramp as you swallow down the dryness of your throat. 

“Sleep well?” He raises an eyebrow, observing out ahead of him.

You scoff in retaliation and don’t answer as John picks a free spot and parks.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” Your ears twitch at his low tone and the rumble like a lullaby in his chest. Was he trying to put you back to sleep?

He gets out of the car and goes to your side as you continue to wake up, opening the door and unclipping your seatbelt. 

“Steady,” John whispers, taking your hand and helping you out as your yawn, “I’ll give your keys back tomorrow afternoon, eh? You’ll lose ‘em like last time if I hand ‘em over to ya’ now.”

“Will not,” You retaliate, stumbling over nothing and causing your face to heat when John smiles, eyes crinkling in a tease.

“Will…You’ll get them back tomorrow. That’s that,” Grumbling, you huff but stay by his side as you both go to the main entrance, sliding past the door and nodding to the guard posted for watch duty. 

“Captain, Ma’am,” The guard greets and a second later you’re both striding down the dimmed hallways with John sending you glances every so often.

“What is it, Captain?” Asking after it becomes too prominent to ignore, you send him a small smile, “I know I look like shit but I can’t be that bad to the point you have to ogle me.” 

John’s face snaps forward and he clears his throat, hands going to slide into his pockets. You pull his jacket closer, eyes turning to silk. 

He’s cute when he’s flustered.

“...Just makin’ sure you’re not going to pass out before you get back to your Barracks,” He blinks, and a blush hidden under his beard makes his ears turn red. You notice with a start that he had left his soggy hat in your car and that his messy hair made him look like he had gotten into a catfight. It was…an attractive look on him, to say the least, “...and you don’t look like shite, Sweetheart. You’re a beauty no matter what happens. Don’t say that about yourself.”

Your breath catches, and in that moment of struggling to breathe, you can only let out a tiny, “Oh, o-okay,” and try to walk straight as butterflies litter your stomach. 

Did…did he call me beautiful? John called me beautiful.

A true, giddy, smile flickers over your lips even as you try to force it down; and just as simple as that, any hurt that Leon had left behind disappears. Everything is replaced by John’s large frame, blue eyes, and grunted words.  

You get to your room and open the door, standing in the opening with dizzy thoughts. Turning around with a content expression, you’re forced to take a deep breath when your nose almost connects with a firm chest. Standing straighter, you snap your head up to find John towering above you, body heat melting into you and causing a reactionary shiver.

“John…?” You ask, head straining to stare at his down-turned face. Something lies hidden behind his eyes, flashing every so often as his gaze narrows. It was the same look as the one in the car, “What are you…?” His lips are thin, and something swirls in your gut when you see how his muscles tense. He’s holding something back.

If you moved any closer your breasts would brush against him, and under your water-heavy sweatshirt, your nipples harden at the idea.

Stop it, You warn yourself, but when he’s looking at you like that – bathed in the hallway light with wrecked hair and widened pupils – you can’t help the way your body reacts to his. Not anymore. 

Leon was gone.

“You mind if I come in, Darling?” Your Captain’s raspy voice sings to your heart, pulse skipping a beat, “Wouldn’t want you to be alone right now, understand me?” 

Taking a shallow breath, your hands at your sides start shaking, subtle actions making it all the more apparent of the growing fire. 

You should say no. Tell him it wasn’t appropriate. But…there was no hiding the attraction you had for Price, not when your boyfriend was out of the picture. You should be mourning the lost relationship of your high school sweetheart, not just hopping into another confusing situation with your fucking superior! 

Frowning, your shoulders hunch. If you said yes – which you really wanted to – that was the final signature on your self-respect and dignity. It would mean a whole stack of paperwork and many late nights. You could lose your job, get John kicked off the Task Force and demoted, the list was endless. 

“Your thoughts are too loud,” Price comments, and he smiles down at you as your eyes widen, tension leaking away as you focus on his words like law, “It’ll be alright. You can say no if you want. You know that. It won’t hurt me.”

But it would, wouldn’t it, because it would hurt you too.

It was more than what was on the surface – the tension in the car that had festered ever since Madagascar told you already what would happen if you let him in. This had been the result of a number of years of pinning building one day after another into a mountain of need and lust. But there had always been a barrier in the way. Leon.

But Leon was gone now; where did that leave you with this stone in your stomach and a want to be with a man you now knew wanted you back?

And John was still giving you an out if you wanted it. A layered warning that this wasn’t the smartest decision for either of you. 

“John,” You breathe, “I shouldn’t.”

“No, you shouldn’t. Neither should I.” 

So that was ultimately why you grabbed his shirt, dragged him into your room, and finally smashed your lips to his. 

John’s arms immediately wrap around your body and peel back his jacket from your form, kicking the door behind him closed so hard the wall rattles. You help, letting him grab the cuff and rip it off as your lips dance in needy kisses that leave your teeth clacking together and air falling from fast breaths. 

His tongue runs over your lip and you open your mouth readily, not caring about how the floor’s going to form a puddle from the soaked jacket or the other water-clogged clothes when they inevitably hit the floor as well. John’s kiss was so intoxicating that when you first felt his hands steady you around your waist you pulled back in surprise, a trail of saliva leaving the two of you connected before it broke. 

“John, we shouldn’t,” You say, breathless as air is sucked back into your red, shiny, lips. It was useless trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t what you wanted since you met him. Maybe Leon was right. Maybe you had been cheating this entire time. A traitorous, cheating, heart.

“No, we shouldn’t,” John growls out, accent far more prominent at that moment than ever before as his eyes darken; boring into your tissue to peel back the layers of your mind until all that remains is him. His lips were so red and shiny you wanted to bite them, “But I couldn’t bloody give a damn.” 

His face once more slammed into yours, and one hand travels to the back of your head, firm. But, if you wished for it, it would leave in a millisecond and you could pull away without a word. All of this could end in a second and John or yourself would never bring it up again; forgetting the unprofessionalism and the way your body reacted to the swipe of his tongue over yours. The sounds you two were making were enough to make you cum right there – the panting, wet kissing. It was improper, dirty, but, beyond all of that…utterly addicting. How high he made you feel needed to be studied, you reasoned, no one could be like this. 

Your hands snapped to his chest and you dig your nails into his shirt, dragging down and feeling his body jolt and squirm. John’s hand on your head tightened as you devoured each other, weaving into your hair as your fingers fall to latch onto his side, feeling the muscle tense and the man groan into your gasping mouth. His pelvis thrusts involuntarily, hitting your thigh.

The way he shutters against you leaves your legs rubbing firmly together as a pounding echoes in your navel. John drags you closer to him.

It seemed you made your decision, but you had a funny feeling you won’t regret it.

Heaving like a wounded animal, John peels back to twist you around, back connecting with the wall as his lips immediately hook onto your neck, saliva dripping down your pulse point in a long, slick, path. A wanton whimper leaves when you feel his beard scrape over your sensitive skin, leaving sparks in its wake that travel directly to your lower body. Using his right foot, the man shoves your legs apart, where you had them previously clenched together and pooling in hot, contained, desire.

“Don’t worry, Love,” He whispers, biting at your ear as your eyes flutter when he slides his thigh in between your splayed legs. You can’t help the loud moan you make when he snaps the thick portion of him up into your core and even through your pants you feel the instinctual, animalistic, urge to roll your pelvis. Fuck, you wanted to ride his thigh, come undone while he watched with those unwavering blues of his, “I’ll take care of you. Make you forget all about that poor bastard. Bloody prick doesn’t even know what he’s lost, but I nearly should thank him for it, yeah?”

“John,” You don’t know what you want, mind a hazy mess as one of your hands snaps to his head just like how he held yours and pulled at the strands tightly. Are you drunk? You feel drunk?

His hand on your thigh forces you to press down into his knee as he grunts in approval of your deteriorating state when you writhe with pleasure at the sensation.

“That idiot just gave me the best damn woman he ever could. Fucken’ fool, he is,” He’s muttering into your ear, head pressed into the wall, as your self-respect flies out the window at his next words, “I’ll fuck you better than he did, Love. C’mon, use me like I’ve wanted you to,” Your hips rut over the substitute for his dick with desperation to stimulate your needy clit, head rocking to the side in a heavy trace of puffing breaths. 

Already the room was heating up, beginning to lose the scent of cinnamon from your old candle and reeking of sweat and carnal urgency.

“Just like that,” John whispers, words slow as the sensation of his tongue licking a stripe over your skin makes you pant and keen. Small jolts of pleasure run from the hard bud hidden behind wet layers, “Steady…Keep your head still.”

He goes back to leaving hickeys on your neck, and through your haze, you know he’s not thinking about how you’ll have to try and hide them tomorrow. John wants people to see the love bites, how they bruise purple and blue all over your throat and under your ear. He lays one on the junction of your shoulder and neck, and your eyes roll at the caress of a hot tongue and immediate sharp teeth digging into flesh a moment later; shuttering.

You hope he leaves some beard burn behind.

That's when you rip his head away by gripping his hair like a vise and then slam it into yours, shoving your tongue so far down his throat you listen to his chest rattle with shock at the action. 

His knee jerks up, and you gasp with nerves that sizzle with lighting and a pool of slick in your core that leaks like a river before a strained plea is said into John’s maw, “Do that again.”

Your Captain doesn’t say anything, but his body shakes with need before doing what you ask. You could feel how hard he was through his pants as the weight digs into your stomach. The knowledge that you would get to feel him inside of you, stretching you open, served to confirm the fact that you would have to throw these panties away tomorrow. 

God, he felt huge, thick, and firm.

John begins to jump his knee up and down, jolting your body as he pulls back to watch with awe at your body’s reaction; setting his forehead against yours. Whining, your back arches, and your shoes brush against the ground every other motion. Every movement sends your nerves alight. It was almost too much – oversensitivity threatening to pull you under with every perfectly angled jumping of your Captain’s knee. 

You slick was staining his pants, completely soaking all layers. 

“Fuck, look at you work, Love,” John was entranced as you got off on him, “Can’t believe that Bastard was getting this when you came back. See how soaked you’ve made me? Shit. Bloody temptress, you are.”

“Need you,” Your lips gasp out, legs shaking violently, “F-fingers. Inside. A-anything! Been wanting you for so long, John.” It was difficult to speak and focus on the pleasure at the same time, but you think he got the point. 

Your pants were too tight, clothes grating to feel on your flesh. You want John’s hands on you. Now. 

“Hm, what’s that?” Price grunts, still watching you move your clothed cunt against him with added fever. 

Annoyance swirls.

“John,” Your mouth snarls, and his face shifts to look back up at you, noses squished together as you breathly sigh at another well-angled jump. Price’s chest rumbles with satisfaction, “Fuck me like how you stroke your cock to the thought of me.”

A moment of shocked silence at your vulgar language.

“Copy.” At once his knee is gone, and you’re squeaking as he grabs you by the waist and the world spins and dances around you. 

John tosses you over his shoulder and the tension in your lower abdomen that had been building turns from a boil to a simmer. You’re about to complain before fingers begin working your shoe laces, tossing the boots off as the man strides to the bed in the corner. 

He lays a heavy slap to your ass that makes you yelp out and hit his back in return. The sparks left behind make your legs clench and your stomach tighten; your hands tear into his back. John chuckles, smoothing over the spot before his grip travels, grabbing onto the waistband of your cargo’s. Ripping them down to your ankles, you moan at the sudden cool air on your cunt and shutter. Anticipation pools to produce a second pulse inside of you, getting louder and more ruthless by the second.

You were so horny it physically hurt to have his grip on you and not inside of you. 

John tosses you to the bed and watches your tits as you bounce on the mattress, looking up at him with black-consumed eyes and a euphoric expression. He wastes no time – the man shucks off his boots and grips his belt with a veiny hand, ripping it from his pants and tossing it to the side. You had the best view of the large tent in his pants, violently straining the fabric in a way your hand can’t stop itself from clenching into the bed sheets. 

“Touch yourself for me, Love, let me see you work that cunt of yours before I eat you out, yeah?” 

Licking your lips, you moan, “Yes, Sir.” 

“Ah, look at my good girl, listens so well to her Captain,” Your fingers aren’t as long or as thick as his are, so they can't do much as you slip them under your underwear and play with your weeping slit as you clench at the comment.

Your fourth and fifth fingers enter you, and your thumb presses into your stiff clit, moving in a tight circle as you stare into John’s eyes. Involuntarily, your lower body rocks in a steady motion as your eyes drink in the man and his heaving lungs... 

You want him naked. 

“Bloody Fucken’ hell,” Price throws off his shirt, and palms at his erection through his pants as his dog tags hit against his scarred and formed chest. 

The sharp ‘V’ of his lower abdomen immediately draws your eyes downwards over the impressive physique, a trail of small dark hairs going lower and lower just to be shielded by the rough material of his pants. John’s skin glistens with sweat, and you want to lick it off of him. If possible, you get even wetter.

You smirk, hips jerking as you send a heavier motion on your nerve bundle; head rolling to the side and mouth opening as you feel yourself tighten around your fingers. That knot was returning, forming as you curl your digits in your slick heat, making your eyelids flutter.  

When you open them again and force them to stay still, you find a heavenly sight beside you. Your eyes widen, and your slit tightens so violently your movements stutter and struggle like a noose had been tightened around your neck. The lungs inside of you gasp.

John’s pants and boxers were gone, leaving nothing on him besides his tags that clink and clatter as he jerks himself off at the sight of you. His sizable dick was red at the tip, lit with fire as precum dribbled out and splatted to the mattress right by your free hand – which clenches the sheets so hard you faintly hear a tear as your ears twitch. But your eyes don’t leave the magnificent sight in front of you watching like a hawk as John’s abdominal muscles tighten with every twisted motion of his hand. 

He was so violent with himself, the exact opposite of how you were playing with your own body. That wasn’t to say the image was anything but fuel to the fire, though.

You whimper and writhe, wrist burning and palm completely soaked with natural lube. 

“Ruining the show, Dear,” The tendon in Price’s neck flares, and a bead of sweat falls down his peck. Inside your sweatshirt, your breasts ache to be squeezed and abused.

Not processing his words for a moment, you pause your fast breaths to let out a high-pitched sound of confusion.

John doesn’t answer, because he moves his free hand and grips your panties, which stretch over your ministrations. He tears them down your thighs, and his touch is like a drug. 

“There we go, Princess. Now I can see that pretty cunt of yours.” Keening at the praise, your back lightly arches from the bed, watching John continue to work himself and matching his pace, imagining him inside of you instead of your fingers, “You like that, yeah? You like when I speak to you like that, dirty girl?”

You bite into your lip, knot so tight you want to grab a pair of scissors and cut it before it tears you up. Fuck, you were so close, the erotic sounds of the both of you fucking yourselves are so wet it increases the pleasure spiking your veins.

A wet hand snaps to your wrist stopping you just seconds away from a release. 

Gasping out in shocked desperation, your mouth releases a strangled plea of, “No, John, please.”

“Answer me when I speak to you,” You stare at your Captain’s bearded face as his hand keeps a heavy weight on your skin. He tears your fingers out of you and keeps them away from your core as you try and ferally move them back. John’s jaw is clenched – he holds you with the hand he was touching himself with not a second before, and you tense at the thought, “I asked you a question, Princess. I expect an answer if you want to cum.”

Tears of desperation form in your ducts. You were so close, but now the sensation was leaving again. 

“Yes!” You yell, voice high, “Yes, John I like it when you tell me how good I am! It gets me wet for you… m-my cunt fucking needs you in it, please! I need you to fucking ruin me, Captain! I want your dick stretching me open like–”

His lips silence your rant, shoving the back of your head into the pillow and moving his body to shadow above yours. The action leaves you moaning so loud at the sensation of his athletic body you forgot the walls were thin and that you were sounding like you were in a pornographic film. 

John smirks above you and replaces your fingers with his own, making your legs shake and twitch at the sensation of his callouses against your walls and his large digits burning as they enter you. He thrusts quickly, sopping wetness quickly making it easy, and the pleasure increases.

“Just had to say yes, Love,” His cock jumps and you feel it brush your lower abdomen, so painfully close but not quite. The man’s dog tags connect right above your face, swinging back and forth as he moves.

You gasp when his fingers curl, squelching echoes over the breathy chants of his name that you release. 

“Look at how fucken’ wet you are,” John praises you, and your walls flutter, as he watches his fingers move in and out of you, “Gotta’ get a taste of that, Love…Take off your top for me so I can see those pretty tits bounce.” 

Fuck you were on fire.

Your shaking limbs don't hesitate, hands snapping to throw the sweatshirt and your bra from you without a coherent thought in your brain. Completely bare before him, John’s expression darkens and swirls with lust. His fingers leave you and he moves down the mattress, leaving back on his knees and grabbing your thighs. Your chest heaves with adrenaline and bare need. This was better than any gunbattle – more thrilling than a training session, and far better than anything Leon had done to you. 

John was focused on you. Entirely. The man was forsaking his own painfully erect cock just to go down on you; to taste your wetness like it was nectar. 

Price hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, and your ankle digs into his back to bring him closer to your cunt. 

“Easy there, Princess. I’ll give you what you need,” His breath spreads over your slit, and your hips jerk before his hand splays over your navel, thumb just brushing your throbbing clit. You try to buck again, whining, “Steady.”

He stares at your face as his tongue goes down to kitten licks your pussy, beard bristles poking your skin and leaving the flesh lit like a glowing ember.

“John!” You moan, and one of your hands snaps to your breast, squeezing as John explores your body, groaning deeply as he collects your slick on his tongue. 

The man’s thumb goes to run circles around your nerve bundle, stimulating you as your body tries to move under his tight grip. But he has you under a tight rope, and the pleasure of it was nearly like being electrocuted over and over again. Your leg over his shoulder traps him there – eating you out like a man starved as his own hips begin to careen into the mattress. The pleasure of seeing you reduced to a blubbering mess that can only chant his name did primitive things to John’s mind. 

And the way you were playing with your breasts…? Fuck, he was addicted to you; the way your body was perfect enough to devour.

John moans into your cunt, the vibrations biting every corner as the tension begins to shatter inside of you when his fingers go to assist his tongue. Your back arches as the muscle and digits work in tandem, pace increasing as the Captain curls over that perfect, spongy, spot that leaves tears falling down the side of your face.

“Fuck, just like that!” You wail, fingers flickering over your hardened nipple, “J-John just like that!”

The words were slurred, coming off as drunk as his beard leaves skin red and scraped on the inside of your thighs. Your cunt tightens, walls closing in around John’s tireless lapping and fingering. His thumb on your clit moves faster, and he lets your hips careen into his face over and over again as his large nose bumps against that same spot. 

Tension builds and builds like an infection, and your free hand snaps to grip your Captain's hair, jerking his face farther into you and ruthlessly twisting the locks.

John whimpers into your slit, cock stuttering in its harsh rutting into the mattress, and your eyes erupt into stars, white light blowing up as your release makes time stand still. 

Gutturally moaning into the hot air, you pant as you come down just to feel a tongue cleaning up your thighs, slurping up cum, and playing around with your sensitive flesh. Fingers still pump inside of you, helping you ride out anything that’s left.

You can’t speak beyond small whimpers and gasps at the movement, but when you look down you’re met with John’s ruined face.

His entire beard was stained, dripping cum down onto your navel as he licks at your clit once. Your hips jerk and you cry in protest at the oversensitivity of the abused area, eyes fluttering.

“Just as I thought,” John’s voice is velvet, dripping just like his beard and nose do as he licks his lips with a demented sucking noise “Boody perfect, doll. Could eat that cunt for hours, just to see you squirm when I’m fucken’ you with my tongue. Better than Whisky.” 

You swallow as his hands caress your thighs, the grip traveling as his body slides up yours. His cock is heavy and leaking as it slides over your drenched slit. Thrusting up into it, the both of you gasp out. John lays drenched kisses all over your sweat-drowned body, leaving a trail of saliva and cum behind him as his own slots over you perfectly. 

“Speak to me,” He groans, and your fingers still in his locks lightly pull as he pushes your still hand over your breast away with his nose. His hot mouth latches onto your nipple and sucks before laying a deep bite around it. 

Writhing, he continues his expiration as a bead of sweat falls down your neck to pool at your bitten collarbone. John licks it up and continues like it’s nothing.

“F-feels good,” Is all you can say, not used to this type of treatment, “R-really good, Captain.”

“Yeah?” He sounds cheeky as his head pulls up to be above yours, hands pressing into the pillow beside your head, “Hm, think my Bird can take a cock? Want me opening that lovely cunt of yours up?”

Your heart pounds, hairs standing on end. The words were so vulgar, but you feel your arousal increase. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Y-yes, Captain.”

John lays a gentle kiss on your bruised lips, and you taste your own release as he sighs into your mouth; connecting your foreheads together when he pulls away. 

“I want your eyes on me the whole time, yeah?” He grunts, one hand going to grab at himself as he shivers above you. Chest bursting with anticipation, your free hand goes to intertwine its fingers with John’s beside your head – the other still gripping his hair, “I wanna see the way you lose yourself on me.”

You can’t answer before he’s filling you up.

Your eyes widen at the stretch, embers of pain bordering on the ledge of pleasure as the man pauses at your expression, going to play with your clit. On your face, your nose scrunches, hesitance floating in your orbs as you let out tight breaths even as his finger does wonders.

“S’alright,” John whispers to you, squeezing your hand and feeling the mewls your lips let out at the sensation of deep callouses, “I’ll be careful, Love. You can take me. Breathe.” Muttering paise as his cerulean blues bore into you, he resumes moving. 

How could you even fit him all inside of you? The tip already burned to take so far into your womb.

But you were plenty wet, the squelching sound resumed, and John tilted his head down to see the way he disappeared inside your cunt like magic. Your thighs have to move farther up his own to help, one locking around his waist as a ring of milky liquid forms over the joining.

The man’s eyes widen when he spies the bulge forming in your lower body, the indent popping out like a hole that’s been repacked with too much dirt. For the final last push, the man forces himself to look away and back up at you – he wants to see how you react. But at the last seconds, John’s eyes roll back into his head when he finally hits the base, a throaty groan mixing with your high-pitched moan as he bottoms out. Your chest flutters against his, and both of your hearts are going so fast they can be seen through your flesh.

You were so full, stretching around him so wide it was a miracle you hadn’t torn something. Both of your stay there for a moment, feeling your walls spasm around him and panting. Sweat falls from Price’s chin, splashing to your skin as your eyelids threaten to close at the stranger inhabiting your most sensitive area. It felt so good.

Your mind completely blanks, eyes glazing over with rapture at the feeling of John’s cock curving so far into you that you know he’ll push into your cervix when he moves. Every minute movement – even the deep breath John takes to steady himself – leaves you needing stimulation as the veins of his dick press into your soft walls.

“M-move, please,” Your numb lips flutter, and John’s eyes open from above you, jaw clenched and one orb more squinted than the other. 

“Yes, Ma’am,” He whispers, expression soft as your hand in his hair tightens to ground yourself. 

John begins slowly, letting you get used to him and the burning that he brings to your insides when he retracts and re-enters. His thrusts are measured, at first.

“Such a good girl,” He says above you, and your eyes refocus, body loosening as your form gradually adapts. But you were right, he’s hitting every corner of you as easily as he breathes. So thick it's like nothing you've ever felt. Your hips are canting up to meet his shallowly, but John does most of the work. He wants to. He wants to please you like Leon never could, to treat you right, “Taken’ me so well. See you grippin’ me, Dear…t-that’s it,'' Your pussy throbs, and you feel him move a little faster, “You’re gettn’ it down, eh? There’s that pretty little face of yours – all screwed up ‘cause of me. Hm, don’t go cock-drunk on me yet, Lovely.” 

“John,” Is what you chant as he begins to fuck you in earnest, pelvis slamming into you as you feel him brush your cervix, “Oh, John.”

“That’s it,” He pants and angles his thrusts up. The action makes you yowl, head tossing back as Price goes to bite into your neck again, dog tags cold against your skin, “There’s that sweet spot, yeah?”

He hits it every single time, marksmanship training telling him to keep attacking the most important part; tears blur your wide sight, back arching as his hand at your clit goes to hike your leg farther up his waist, the limb uselessly flying out behind his back. The deep press of his blunt nails into the flesh adds to the overstimulation, and you can’t keep up if you tried. Too pleasure drunk, you let him do what he wants, as long as you can feel his veiny cock hitting that spongy spot again. His dick thrusts into you with such devotion, ringing out pleasure like how one does to a rag.

“Fuck…” He muttered into your neck, “Won’t last long with you squeezing me like that. You’re so bloody tight.”

The snake was coiling in your gut, tail rattling as John throbs inside of your heat, moving over your skin like he was water over a rock. Loosening your hand from his hair, your nails go to dig into the fletch of his back, raking down his spine as he growls under you; sending a sharp thrust up that has you seeing sparks in your vision. It was building so quickly you couldn’t properly speak, only moan and wail and wine.

You were sure your nails were biting into his skin, leaving long red scratches behind as some sick form of proof. Maybe they were even drawing blood. A sadistic part of you wanted them too. 

“C-close,” Your gasp enters the thick air as your legs shake. John bites your earlobe, lifting his head from your skin to look at you from the side of his blown eyes. 

“W-where do you want it, Love?” He gasps, his beard scraping your skin until it’s raw. You hoped you had lotion in the bathroom for tomorrow, “C’mon gotta tell me before I lose myself.”

“Inside!” You yell, not even knowing what you’re saying anymore. If you did a part of you would have died from embarrassment. The man’s eyes snap fully to yours, widening; you feel his body shaking above you, hands clenching too tightly around your thigh and embrace as the flesh turns a different shade, “Please, Captain, fill me up. I wanna feel you dripping out of me for days! Please, I need your cum! Please, please…”

Price only sputters for a second before he begins to move like a man possessed. He pistons into you with heated movements and you gasp out in response, not sure how much more you could take but please don’t stop it feels so good. So, so, good when you move like that. Fill me with your seed.

“Made for me, you were,” John growls, ferally kissing you as you try to do the same back as he relentlessly pounds away, “I said it before, bloody fucken’ perfect. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need. Make you so full of me you’ll be leaking all over the damned sheets.” 

The coil snaps and you clench around Price’s cock so hard he moans into your mouth as you do the same. 

“Fuck..!” His hips jerk one more time before he spills into you, hot spurts of his seed coating your walls and leaking out of the ring you two had made. 

Shaking, John lets you ride it out as he continues to shakily thrust into you, but it isn’t long before he has to stop and his dick softens inside of you. After a moment of violent deep breaths, he has to shift, exiting from your reddened and leaking hole. Shuttering at the feeling of his ridges once more leaving, the foreign emptiness finally settles into your bones, you feel his cum pooling from you to collect on the mattress; your lower skin feels wet to the touch as the liquid follows the lines of your body and sticks to every part available. 

Lungs desperate for air, your body heaves and shivers; your eyes stay locked onto the ceiling above you, where you wished the metal was the same shade of blue as John’s eyes. You didn’t even notice the man himself had gone into your bathroom to receive a damp rag to clean you up until the rough material was leaving you flinching away from it. 

“Careful now,” John speaks lowly, and you hear his dog tags below you as he swipes at your folds. Your eyelashes flutter, legs tensing, “Need to clean you up.” 

He lays a kiss on your knee and continues for a few minutes, muttering compliments and kind words that you miss as your ears ring; he cleans your combined fluids from your spent cunt delicately, completely different from how he was abusing it a short while ago.

John leaves, and when he returns a second time, he slips into the bed in front of you, taking the wrecked covers and arranging you carefully so you were covered by them.

A moment of hot pressing bodies passes, and your head is pressed into the man’s raging chest, drawn back to consciousness by his heart when he shifts, “...Didn’t hurt you, did I, Love?”

“Hm,” You groan, and moving your legs results in needles digging into the fine tissue, “No. But you’re going to be carrying me tomorrow.” 

Your Captain has the audacity to laugh, his hand going to rest on your ass, rubbing the skin as he draws you closer.

“Wanted to do that for a long time, Y’know,” He whispers, laying kisses to your hair, “Long time.”

“Me too,” You admit, sighing as your eyes flutter shut, “Since Madagascar, I think.” 

John lightly flinches, “Madagascar?” It’s a question, but he already knows the answer, “What about…”

He trails.

“Leon?” You ask and Price grunts, knocking his nose down into your scalp as he draws circles into your skin. He didn’t like you saying that man’s name, “I think I wanted to break up with him…finding him with someone else just gave me an easy out, I guess,” You think over the event. Had you been relieved slightly? Perhaps, but it was easier to tell now than earlier, “It was just…”

Stopping you hum, and turn your head to lay a kiss on a scar on John’s chest in your vicinity.

“Easier.” 

It’s not a question your Captain poses, it's a statement.

“Less complicated, yeah.” He breathes a sigh into your hair and fatigue leaves your lids falling quickly.

“We’ll talk more in the morning,” John mutters, “Copy?”

You don’t answer, because you’ve already fallen to sleep, body bruised and yet feeling far better than you had in years. John wanted to be with you, Leon was out of the picture – it was all turning up. But there was still that part of you that ached with betrayal, that bled when you poked at it with a finger; a wounded heart would do that. It bleeds for a bit.

Though, you knew John would be there with a bandage, to put pressure on the wound and catch the spills. Maybe that was selfish, but maybe you had a right to be for a little while. Your Captain certainly didn’t seem to mind. 

John fell asleep quickly after, content for possibly the first time in years. He gets to hold you in his arms and wake up with you right by his side, even if the paperwork was going to be atrocious.

There was no doubt people had heard them, but it wasn’t like the Captain cared. 

—

“Little Lady?” The knock wasn’t what woke you, John did. Looking up at him, he holds a finger to his lips and has a pleading look on his face. You raise a brow, about to go back to sleep before Soap’s voice makes you freeze, “I know you’re in there – you wouldn’t happn’ to have a clue where Price is, would you? Man missed the debriefing.” 

Your wide eyes stay locked with Johns, Maybe If I don’t answer he’ll go a–

“That’s it, I'm coming in!” 

“Wait!” 

But the door was already opening – John hadn’t locked it, too caught up in the stupor of finally getting you into his arms and wetting his dick. 

“...Steamn’ bloody Jesus!” Screaming and a quick rustling can be heard echoing out into the hallway, “...Well, well, well, Cap finally got the girl, did he? Bout’ time, I’d say! Tell me, now, how good was he in bed for an old man?” 

“Stop lookn’ at her, you Muppet! I’ll hang you by the fucke–” 

“How can’t I – her fucken’ tits are out and you’re about a bawhair away from her! Where else am I supposed to look, man?” 

“Out!” 

Soap rushes out, smiling wider than anything with gleaming eyes before stumbling and nearly careening into the wall as John Price rushes after, face red and snarling. The Captain had nothing more than a wrinkled, thin, standard white bed sheet around his tapered waist with dog tags fastened around his neck. 

John’s clenched hand connects with the door frame and the rageful man leans out down the hall and yells, “When I find you, MacTavish, It’s your fucken’ neck under a goddamned rope! You hear me, Sergeant?! Your fucken’ neck!”

Vibrating laughter can be heard from the figure already disappearing down the corner of the woman’s Barracks.

“Wait till the boys hear about this!”

The door closes so loudly behind John that the wide-eyed bystanders in the hallway miss the lock being clicked into place with savage fingers. But the loud, chest-tightening, feminine laughter that forms moments later is none the clearer.  

Well, secret’s out. 

[joeshiestyslover]

first sight- c. sturniolo

pairing: chris sturniolo x influencer!reader

summary: you are an influencer who first gained traction on youtube for your makeup videos and daily vlogs. you and tara have been best friends since you two collaborated over a year ago. she invites you to her 1 mil party where you meet a very special triplet.

warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, fluff

masterlist

lowercase intended

parties were never really your thing. sure, parties are apart of the influence lifestyle, but you never found yourself desiring to go to a party, get drunk, and stay out until three a.m. however your best friend, tara, is the complete opposite. she loves going to and throwing parties. every time, she tries to drag you with her, but most times, you just stay at home, either making content for your fans or simply lying in bed.

recently, she hit one million subscribes on her youtube channel and she immediately began planning a huge party that she wanted filled to the brim with friends and other influencers. the first person she invited was you. you were hesitant at first, but knowing how important this was to her, you agreed.

“come on, y/n, you have to go! it’s not like there’ll be random people there. larray’s gonna be there, jake and johnnie will be there. just please come, or at least consider it.” tara begs you. you sigh, knowing that she really wants you there. “okay i’ll go, but i may not stay for very long.” she immediately grins from ear to ear. “thank you!” she pulls you in for a hug, “you’ll have so much fun i promise.” you laugh at her excitement. “yeah, yeah, i’m sure.” you respond playfully.

a few weeks pass and it’s the night of the party. tara helped you pick out a sparkly minidress that shows off the tattoos littering your arms and some heels. you have to admit, you look good. the way your makeup accentuates your features and the way your outfit clings to your body makes you feel untouchable.

tara walks out of her bathroom after she finishes changing and looks you up and down, a huge smile on her face. “oh my god you look so good!” you return her smile, “you ready to go?” you ask her and she nods. “let’s go!” she interlocks her arm with yours and you two walk out of her apartment towards a limousine waiting outside. “there’s no fucking way you got a limo” you laugh, loving the effort your best friend put into the party. “of course i did! we need to arrive with some style.” she responds, leading you to the back of the large vehicle.

you both slide in and see champagne and some chocolates in front of you. tara grabs the bottle and opens it, pouring the drink into two glasses, holding one out to you. you accept it and tara holds out her flute, tapping it against yours before the both of you take a drink. music is softly playing in the limo as you two drink your champagne and laugh about random things.

you and tara arrive at the party where there are already a ton of people inside. the music is blasting through the speakers and the moment tara walks in, people begin to cheer after seeing the guest of honor. tara grabs your hand and begins leading you somewhere. “let’s get a drink!” she yells over the music. you two go over to the bar where you order a tequila shot to loosen you up and a modelo with lime. you throw the shot back and grab the modelo, squeezing the lime into it. you look around and see another one of your good friends, larray. you turn to tara, “i’m gonna go mingle. i’ll catch up with you in a bit.” she simply nods and you walk over to larray, tapping him on the shoulder. he turns around and his face lights up when he sees you. “hey y/n!” he brings you in for a hug, “i’m surprised you’re here!” he smiles at you. “me too, but it’s a tara yummy party, so i just had to go.” larray laughs at that, “well i’m so glad you came!” you both engage in conversation, talking about everything that’s going on in both your lives (and talking some shit about people you both hate).

tara’s talking with a few of her friends when she sees chris and nick sturniolo walking in. she excuses herself from the conversation and walks over to the two boys. “you made it!” she hugs them both. “of course we did! we wouldn’t miss this for the world!” nick replies and chris smiles, scanning the crowd, seeing a few familiar faces. “well, have fun and enjoy yourselves! there’s a lot of cool people here!” her face then lights up. “in fact, there’s someone i want you two to meet! she’s so fucking cool! come on i’ll find her!” she walks through the large crowd with chris and nick trailing behind her. tara spots you with your back turned to her, talking to larray. “oh there she is!” she points to you and chris immediately takes notice to your dress and your large back tattoo peeking out the top of the dress. “y/n!” she yells towards you.

you hear your name being called, so you turn around, being met with a smiling tara and two guys who look the same. you return her smile and walk over to her and she throws her arm around your shoulders. “what’s up?” you ask. “i want you to meet a couple of my friends! this is chris and nick sturniolo!” you look up at them and stick your hand out for them to shake. “hi i’m y/n.” nick is the first to shake your hand before moving your hand in front of chris. he takes your hand and shakes it gently, and you swear you can feel a sort of electricity run through your body at his touch.

chris on the other hand, is absolutely entranced by you. he swears he has never seen such a perfect human being in his life. the way your hair perfectly frames your facial features and the way your dress perfectly fits your body, you’re perfect in his eyes. he soon realizes he’s staring, and he snaps back to reality and the only thing he can get out of his mouth is: “nice to meet you.” you give him a smile in return. “i’ve seen some of your youtube videos,” nick speaks up, “you’re so funny.” you giggle at his compliment. “thank you. i try.”

while you’re talking to the two boys, you can’t seem to keep your eyes off chris. he’s one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your life. he’s exactly your type, brown shaggy hair, blue eyes, not too tall but definitely taller than you. he just looks so perfect.

as you’re all talking, tara notices that chris’ gaze never leaves you. she smirks and turns to nick, “hey, can you come with me to grab a drink?” he shrugs, “sure.” tara and nick walk away, leaving you and chris alone. both of you stay silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. you rock back and forth on your heels before chris finally says something, “i umm, i like your tattoos.” you lift your arms slightly, “thank you.” you blush a little, a small smile forming on your face. “i’m sorry i don’t usually talk this little. parties aren’t really my thing.” you say, but chris shakes his head. “no i get it. tara mentioned you’re not a party person.” you nod, “yeah i’m not. so you’re a youtuber as well right? with your brothers?” you try to make conversation. “yeah, it’s me, nick, and our other brother, matt” he replies. “and where is matt tonight?” “he’s back home. he’s not a party person either.” you nod in understanding. “i think i’ve seen some clips of your youtube on my for you page. nick was right, you are really funny.” chris smiles at you. “thank you, chris.” you can feel the heat rising up to your cheeks.

chris stays silent for a moment, contemplating what to say. “i’m sorry i just have to tell you, you’re really pretty. like really pretty.” your eyes widen a little at how forward he’s being, but you smile at him nevertheless. “you’re so sweet chris. you’re really cute too.” you can see a blush forming on his cheeks as he looks down at the floor for a moment. he looks back up at you to say something but he’s interrupted by sam and colby calling out both your names. you look over and see the two of them walking over to you, colby immediately bringing you in for a quick hug while same daps up chris, them engaging in their own conversation. “hey y/n! how are you?” “i’m great! how’s the ghost hunting going?” you ask, smiling up at him. colby chuckles, “oh, y’know, same old, same old. you should come explore a haunted place with us some day.” you wince. you don’t do ghosts. “i don’t know about that colbs.” “oh come on, it’s so fun. just give it a chance.” you sigh, “i’ll think about it.” he nods, “i’ll accept that answer. hey, i’m gonna go make some rounds, but i’ll see you later, yeah?” “yeah of course! see ya.” he smiles and walks away with sam into the crowd.

you turn back to chris. “sorry, what were you saying?” he looks back at you. “i wanted to know if i could maybe get your number? we could go out sometime?” he asks nervously, fiddling with his fingers a bit. you grin, “i would love that chris.” he smiles and takes out his phone to hand it to you. you quickly type your number into his phone, handing it back to him. you two talk for a bit before tara and nick make their way back over to the two of you. “how are you guys doing over here?” she asks with a knowing look on her face. “we’re doing great.” chris tells her, smiling over at you. “well, i’m glad. y/n we should go find jake and johnnie. they’ve been asking about you” you nod and motion for her to lead the way, but before you go, you turn over to chris and nick, “it was nice meeting you guys,” you look at the younger triplet, “and text me sometime.” tara then leads you away from the two guys, navigating your way through the large crowd.

nick looks at chris, “so i’m assuming you shot your shot with her? after talking about her for weeks?” nick smiles at his younger brother. “yeah i did.” he smiles proudly, thanking the universe for giving him the chance to talk to you.

you and tara are walking through the crowd when she asks you: “so it went well with chris?” you nod, “yeah it did.” you blush a little at the thought of him. “i’m glad.” you raise an eyebrow, “you planned that didn’t you?” “sure did.”

a/n: def gonna make a part 2 to this

tags: @sassysturniolo2008 @chrissypook

[solbaby7]

Seen

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: possible swearing but this is mainly just fluff, maybe a splash of sexual tension but I love a good slow burn when it comes to azzyboy

summary: Nosy by nature, you follow a few stray shadows somewhere you know you don’t belong—better not get caught

—

You shouldn’t be here.

You definitely shouldn’t be here.

But everytime you stopped, tried to turn back and go where you came, those little shadows stopped you. Wrapping around your legs like snakes, pulling at your clothes and gently pushing you forward down a dark hallway with only one door.

You knew you shouldn’t have touched it.

But the little shadows twisted the knob for you, door opening with a slow creek.

“Absolutely not,” You say to the hovering shadow, unsure if it could understand you but the way it curled around your shoulders and urged you forward seemed like a “actually, you will”.

It was a little colder in here, a room filled to the brim with all sorts of treasures. Weapons hang neatly against the wall above the fireplace, swords sharper than the jagged rocks weathered by the crashing tide deep below the mountains. Armor and fighting leathers of all sizes and stitching hang on a rack in the corner, perfectly clean save a few random holes—war wounds you concluded.

But whose?

The answer becomes more apparent when you prod a little further, carefully observing rare books; some with languages carved on the spine you hadn’t even known existed. Paintings hang on the wall, some of landscapes, a few of the Night Court, but one makes your eyes widen—the painting Feyre had made for Azriel.

You step back immediately, the shadow holding at your arm to brace you. “I really shouldn’t be in here.” You whisper at it, fixing the papers on the desk you’d stumbled into.

“No, you really shouldn’t.”

Your body freezes, hands stuck in place over the little wooden figurine you’d knocked over and the profanity that slips out is nothing above a whisper. “I swear I wasn’t snooping.”

It definitely looks like you’re snooping, hands all over personal paperwork that once you squinted your eyes to look at, you realize they’re reports; mission debriefs, important information that you certainly shouldn’t know and the whine that pulls in your distress, Azriel actually finds kind of cute. “Okay.” There’s no reading the expression on his face, dark hair tumbling down his shoulders. His shirts unbuttoned, golden brown skin capturing your attention and you force your eyes away before you get caught up in the giant wings tucked behind him. “Why are you here?”

Your fear morphs into anger, pointer finger jabbing at the two shadows slinking about your feet, nearly fully hidden if it weren’t for the smoke like wisps that curled in the air. “They made me, I swear. I didn’t even open the door.”

Azriel says nothing, wings ruffling when he beckoned them, silently commanding they return but the shadows don’t obey. They hide behind your frame, flitting about your clothes and one settles around the back of your neck like a sleepy cat. “Interesting.”

“They’re kinda cute,” You admit softly, eyes transfixed on the newest addition to your shoulders and when your fingers come to touch it, it feels cool. “—if they weren’t so naughty.” As if remembering you’re not alone you look back up, hand lowering back down to your sides as you stand there awkwardly. “But, I suppose I didn’t exactly fight them that hard—I was a little curious.”

“Dangerous thing, curiosity. People have killed over less.”

It takes everything in you not to step back because even though the words are slightly threatening, they aren’t untrue. “I apologize—I’ll go now.”

“If you weren’t actually snooping through my papers,” Azriel begins, the shadows attached to him preventing you from going any further and the two connected to you reach out to the others—bumping against one another like bees communicating where the most pollen was. A few more reach out to you, curiously prodding at your clothes, your hair, curling around your arm and gliding through the gaps of your fingers. “What were you looking at?”

You answer quickly albeit a little distracted by the smoky darkness crawling up your shirt and around your neck. “I was—“ Your breath catches when they squeeze a little, blush fanning. “Can you get them off please?”

“Believe it or not,” You dare look up at him and find that he looks just as flustered as you by his shadows. “I’m trying but they’re not really responding to me at the moment.”

Panic is evident on your face and the swirling gems containing the true extent of his power behinds to glow a little, shadows being pulled back like a magnet no matter how hard they latch on. “Does that happen often.”

Azriel’s hand reached out, snatching at one that dared try to pull away. He doesn’t look at you when he tucks it back with the others. “No.”

There’s a pause, a silence that’s not exactly uncomfortable but you still feel the need to fill it when you skim over parts of the room you hadn’t been able to explore before. “What is all of this stuff?” You’re moving before you can tell your feet to stop, settling before a glass cabinet filled with all sorts of precious gems, glimmering necklaces and two neatly hung dresses and though neither are quite as high quality as the stones; your hand still hovers over them, fingertips millimeters from the shiny glass. “It’s beautiful.”

You don’t hear anything for some time, too entranced with the golden arm cuff that had been carefully designed into a vine with detailed leaves and stems that seemed to grow the longer you stared at it. “They’re for,” Azriels voice is low, clearing his throat when his breath catches slightly. “—they were for my mother.”

Were.

You don’t look at him, granting him the gift of privacy because it was obvious this wasn’t exactly an easy subject and even more clear that procuring this many words from him was a feat in itself. You hum instead, trying to appear as casual as possible as you appreciate items not meant for other eyes—treasures meant for a someone who was no longer with us. “She must’ve been lovely—probably a bit complex,” You say without thinking. “Probably really kind too and good with nature,” You add, looking back at the arm cuff.

A blush forms when you finally turn to face him again, his mouth is slightly agape and you can’t quite put your finger on the way he’s staring at you. “You get all that from some jewelry?”

You scoff as if they’re your own, defending them like you’d picked them yourself. “They’re not just jewelry. Look at how intricate the pieces are,” You point at them, never touching the glass in fear of leaving a fingerprint or possibly breaking it. “Each and every one of them probably look careful thought and planning and endless hours of time spent bringing it to life. The care; the love put into them it’s—“ You let out a breath, realizing how fast you were talking and how quick you were breathing. Suddenly, you feel shy with his eyes studying you. “It’d be a disservice to just call them jewelry when it’s so clear her soul’s in every piece.”

Azriel’s not a man of many words, so you don’t force them. Instead you dip you head in farewell, returning the clingy shadows and making way to leave when you hear a whisper so soft you nearly mistake it for the wind. “I thought so too.”

[lazitoelgato]

If anyone wanna read the tags is free to do so jsjsjshsjs

Take responsibility for your own actions

[samiiy20]

♡ 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝑴𝒚 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 ♡

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Lee Minho x fem!reader 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: When you thought it was finally your time to shine, fate plays against you by pairing you with the person you hate the most, making you have to work together to win a dance competition. 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: Slow burn, rivals/enemies to lovers, smut 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 11k (damn it, sorry) 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕

N/A: Sorry for the wait, but here it is at last. I'm actually really proud of this, it's my longest work so far so if you like it please reblog it, that would help me a lot. I thought of making this a sort of mini series of the kind of love you would have with the other members, so look out for news soon.

masterlist II tag list

This content NOT is for minors!!!

This is merely entertainment, this does not represent any real person.

It is forbidden to copy or translate my work.

English NO is my first language.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Mention of anxiety attacks (if you are sensitive don't read it) Insults, nicknames: (darling) ,unprotected sex (don't do it), semi-public sex, oral sex, fingering. (I'm sorry if I forgot something) A little bit of angust if you squint your eyes.

Dancing was everything to you, ever since you could remember you knew you were destined to shine on stage, although it wasn't always easy. Over the years you had to do many things, you gave up many others and even lost relationships with important people to pursue your dreams, you worked very hard to get into a prestigious academy and when you finally did you worked even harder to make a name for yourself in the industry, but it was harder than you thought, but still you weren't willing to give up.

You trained for a long time, so much that sometimes you forgot the hours you spent in the practice room, but when your name was among the highest positions you felt that everything was worth it, but there were times when you felt the opposite, no matter how much you concentrated and dedicated time sometimes it wasn't enough, that's why you were determined to win this competition.

When you heard your name you took a breath and ignored all the looks from your classmates and went on stage. The pressure in your chest increased with each step, but you continued walking until you reached the center and looked up to try to see the judges, but with the light reflecting off you it was impossible to know where they were.

You got into position, raised your arms, stretched your legs and stood on your toes.

The music resonated loudly throughout the place, but only you could feel it running through your veins as you danced, it was as if it entered your body and took control of it. You felt like you were in another place when you danced, you felt like for a moment everything else ceased to exist and there was only room for the music.

You gave every part of yourself to that dance and when the music finally stopped you were aware of your heart beating strongly. You opened your eyes and you were back on stage. Your breathing was accelerated and your feet hurt, but you could only smile as you tried to recover.

“Thank you very much” you gave a small bow, giving way to the nerves that invaded your body and you left the stage to wait for the judges’ final decision. The other people waited just as anxiously as they watched the number of participants getting smaller and smaller.

You stayed to look at the others, but none of them was better than the last, many fell or made mistakes because of their nerves and that only made you feel more confident for a moment, until you saw him.

Lee Minho.

He was new, but he earned the teachers’ recognition easily, something that bothered you since it took you several years for the teacher to even remember your name, but after finding out that his family was rich and had enough money to buy a place anywhere it only made your hatred towards him grow.

You always avoided him wherever you went and if you met him by mistake you just ignored him, you couldn’t stand people like him, crushing the effort and time of others just for a little money.

Still, what bothered you the most about him was that despite everything he did pretty well. When it was his turn, people crowded behind the curtains to watch him and you rolled your eyes, but you didn't leave.

“He's amazing” you heard someone say “he's sure to get the lead role” you sighed heavily and turned to see the person who said that comment in your presence and he just lowered his head when your eyes met.

The music started playing through the speakers and he made the first move. You knew the choreography by heart, you had seen him practice over and over again. His movements were delicate and he had perfect control over his body, his arms moved to the beat of the music and his feet marked his steps with harmony.

Lee Minho had a unique glow among everyone, he stood out among the rest with his simplicity and fluid movements, in addition, he was tall, with a sharp face and full lips, but his gaze was cold and calculating. It was like Minho was born with a natural talent that made him steal the attention in any room he entered and that, too, bothered you.

You peeked your head out a little and saw how everyone was lost appreciating his dance, a small part inside you knew it, knew that all your effort had been for nothing (again) and it was all because of him. You walked away from the place with a cloud of ideas in your head and you felt a pressure in your chest and labored breathing, you looked around but your vision began to get blurry.

“Shit” you whispered trying to find a lonely place because you knew what was coming.

You tried to control yourself, but every second that passed was worse. Your hands began to shake and you felt an invisible pressure surround your body, but you let out a small sigh of relief when you saw the bathroom door.

You ran and checked that there was no one there before closing the door and collapsing on the floor. There was no air left and you felt like you could faint at any moment.

You closed your eyes and tried to control your tears, but you knew it was impossible with all those thoughts tormenting you, so you let the sorrow envelop you.

When you came out of the bathroom again, everyone was gathered to hear the judges' decision. Despite your swollen eyes and red nose, you walked among everyone with your head held high and noticed Minho in the distance along with two other people, but you sat far away from the rest, where the shadows would hide you a little.

Everyone was nervous and you could feel the uncertainty in the environment, you just wanted all this to end so you could breathe.

The judges approached where everyone was gathered and the room was filled with absolute silence, everyone was holding hands or praying in their heads to be chosen, but everyone knew that only one could have the lead role.

“First of all we want to thank you for participating in this competition, you have all done amazing” you rolled your eyes, you didn’t have time to listen to a whole sermon, you just wanted to hear your name or leave that place “but after discussing it for a while we have made an important decision” everyone in the room had stopped breathing and you could see some of them closing their eyes.

You hated the wait, the silence was eating you up inside and everything around you seemed to shrink, people seemed to have disappeared and you were alone, there was no one who could help you with the pressure that was taking over you, you were cursing in your mind until suddenly between the fog of thoughts you heard your name.

Everyone turned to look at you and a few applauded, but most just sighed tiredly from the defeat. “Please come forward.” You were still dizzy, but as best you could, you stood up and walked past the judges. The weight of your body vanished when you saw everyone on the other side and you knew it had all been worth it.

You dared to look at them one by one, but when you met Minho’s gaze, you stopped to savor the victory. Minho just narrowed his eyes and smiled. You felt a shiver run through your body when he looked you up and down.

“Please don’t be discouraged,” said one of the judges. “We have something new for this occasion.” The people again became agitated and the whispers became louder and louder. “This time we have decided to give the opportunity to two people.”

“What?!” Your voice wasn't the only one that echoed through the place, everyone was surprised by the new announcement and you didn't know how to react, this had been your chance to shine and now you'll have to share it? People were once again in an uproar and the whispers were getting louder, but your mind could only think of the worst.

“We want to implement a new dynamic” said another of the judges present to calm the people “so the other person will be…” people were once again in an uproar, you closed your eyes praying for a miracle but then you heard it “Lee Minho”

You heard some people sigh, others applaud and shout, but in your mind there was only room for one thought as you saw Minho's triumphant smile approaching. You wanted to run, scream, throw yourself through the window and run away from here, but your feet didn't move, you were static with a lost look while Minho stood next to you.

“It will be a pleasure to work with you, darling,” he whispered to you while the judges were still saying something that you couldn't understand while your heart was pounding hard in your chest wanting to get out, the only thing you wanted at this moment was to wake up from this nightmare.

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

You had prepared yourself hours before for this moment, you had arrived about 10 minutes ago, but you couldn't even raise your hand to knock knowing that on the other side was your worst nightmare. You breathed a few more times and counted in your head to do it, but the right moment never seemed to come.

"Damn it" you whispered trying again, you closed your eyes and tried to breathe calmly "one… Two…"

"Just do it" You opened your eyes and turned to that unknown voice, but you would have preferred not to.

Minho was in the hallway leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a backpack on his shoulders.

"How long have you been there?"

"The same amount of time you've been trying to knock on that door" you sighed and for a moment you felt embarrassed "it's not that hard, you know?"

You weren't going to talk to him if it wasn't necessary and after the small humiliation you finally decided to open the door. The room was empty and you got worried when you heard footsteps behind you, but you didn't turn around to look at him.

You threw your stuff in a corner and sat on the floor, you knew the teacher wouldn't be long in coming so you decided to start stretching.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Minho in the other corner of the room, his gaze on you was heavy and although you tried to ignore it something inside you made you want to look at him, dare him.

You dared to look at him in the mirror and held his gaze, no words were needed to read the anger in his eyes, you knew he would have preferred to keep the spot for himself too, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of giving up your spot just because of his presence.

Before you could say or do anything, the teacher entered the room and began giving them orders. You took a breath and silently prayed that you could survive the rest of the day.

“That’s it” you dropped to the floor as soon as the teacher turned around and walked out the door. You didn’t expect her to be more strict than in class, your feet hurt and your whole body felt tense, but according to her this was nothing more than stretching.

“I don’t understand why they chose you” Minho said suddenly starting his game to annoy you, but you ignored him knowing that it would annoy him more “anyone would do it better than you” you pressed your lips together to hold back the words, but you were starting to feel that little flame inside you start to burn

“Then why aren’t they here?” you answered, unable to hold it in and grabbed your things to leave before you lost control.

You left the room as quickly as possible and ran down the stairs to enter the classroom, where the atmosphere was no better than being alone with Minho. You knew there was hate and envy floating in the air, but you ignored it. You always knew that sometimes people hid their true intentions and you were terrified of hanging out with the wrong person, which is why you preferred to be alone.

The class wasn't the best either and you just left there as soon as your day was over. The way home was long, but you preferred to walk to clear your mind a little, but when you got there you just sighed because you knew no one would welcome you.

Sometimes you just wanted someone to talk to you a little, to accompany you to dinner or to invite you out at night, but all you had was an old cat that only meowed when he saw you arrive, but even so you were all you had and you loved him.

You picked him up in your arms and stroked his head as you threw your things away to head to the kitchen.

“Did you miss me?” the cat purred and you let him go to leave him food that he thanked you for by meowing before eating.

Your night routine was nothing special, eating, bathing, watching your favorite series and going to bed leaving a space in the bed for your cat. You looked at the window and sighed wondering if all your decisions in the past were the best idea, you used to have friends, you got the best grades in university and your parents had been proud of you once. You turned over in bed when you felt your cat and hugged him trying to hold back your tears.

“Do you love me?” the cat meowed and you burst into tears feeling an emptiness in your chest.

You had pursued your dreams, but at what cost?

You had lost everything.

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

The next day wasn't any better than the day before, or the next, or the next. The whole week you found yourself stuck in a routine between having to endure seeing Minho's face every day, having to endure the hateful looks of your classmates, and your boring routine at home.

The days didn't seem to get any better and when the teacher finally decided on the choreography they would present you were a little happy.

"Okay, now we'll start the real classes" the teacher proceeded to explain that she had been analyzing them to see their strengths and weaknesses, she made some recommendations and then proceeded to show them the dance floor while she performed each one's part separately. You memorized all the steps you could and went over them in your head "your turn"

You didn't turn to look at Minho and you stood in the center of the dance floor waiting for the music to start playing, but when you felt Minho stand behind you and place a hand on your waist you looked at him in the mirror. He didn't look down and you tensed up a little taking a step forward, but he grabbed you and came close to your ear.

“Don't look at me, darling, I wasn't the one who put the steps”

“Don't call me that” Minho just smiled and before you could say anything else the music started and you just rolled your eyes and focused on dancing.

The times you had to interact with Minho your body would get tense and you couldn't stand to look at him, you looked away somewhere else and just focused on doing it right on your own. The teacher corrected the mistakes and they repeated the choreography over and over again, but that didn't make the experience of dancing with Minho any better.

“Again”

You held back a sigh and closed your eyes, your head was starting to hurt. You got into position and took a breath to endure it all again, even though your legs were burning from the effort you were making.

You felt a look and looked up only to see Minho squinting, you hated the way he looked at you, as if you were a sculpture he didn't understand and tried to decipher, as if his gaze could make him see beyond your head and be able to see your thoughts.

“Stop looking at me”

“You're shaking” you gritted your teeth and just looked away “are you scared?”

The music started to play and you moved to the side following the steps, but when you were close to him again you couldn't stay quiet.

“Scared? Of what exactly?” Minho took your hand and you stood on your toes on one foot while he spun you around “of you?”

“Yes” You rolled your eyes at the same time he let go and you continued dancing until you were facing him.

“Don’t make me laugh” Minho grabbed you by the waist and you let your weight fall back while stretching your arms “I feel nothing for you but hate” you heard a dry laugh

“It must be hard, right?” you raised your eyebrows, but you didn’t stop dancing around him while the music was still playing “I can’t feel hate for you” you missed a step because of his words and you only heard the teacher’s voice in the distance while your thoughts were scrambling in your head, what did that mean?

“You lie”

“I don’t” he said when you crossed in front of him and when you were in front of him again for a second to gain momentum and jump you heard him “the only thing I feel for you is pity”

His words echoed in your mind, you didn’t notice how close the floor was and you stumbled. You fell to your knees, but you didn’t try to get up. His words affected you more than you thought and it made you burn inside

“Get up girl, this isn’t over” the teacher’s voice made you look up, but then someone interrupted in the room “take a break” she said before leaving them

You looked at the floor as Minho’s words echoed over and over in your head. You wanted to throw yourself at him, hit him, yell at him, but instead you just closed your eyes and tried to think of something else.

“You’re pathetic” you looked up, but you didn’t care much until he spoke again “you haven’t done anything to deserve the position”

You wouldn’t let that go unnoticed, he could have said anything else and you would get angry, but he didn’t know all the effort and sacrifice you had made to get here and you wouldn’t let him say that lightly. You stood up and closed the distance, you pushed his chest, but his crooked smile only made you want to hit him with all your might.

"You're nobody to say that," you pointed a finger at his chest as he raised his hands, "you know nothing."

"Do you think that with your miserable efforts you'll reach the top?" The rage inside you was spilling out everywhere and there was nothing that could stop it.

"I've worked hard to be here…" your voice cracked a little, but you continued "But of course, you wouldn't understand… after all, your place was already bought from the beginning" the words were left floating in the air and you noticed how his smile faded, his eyes were two burning black points that would burn the world if they could, but you stayed there, burning with him.

Minho couldn't stand being around you, everything about you made him ignite the anger inside him, your mere presence in the room bothered him, since he saw you dance for the first time he knew it immediately, you were that kind of person that bothered him more than anything in the world, that kind of deluded person that risks everything for their dreams.

“Your efforts are of no use here, darling,” he said suddenly, you clenched the shirt in your fists as he held your hands, “you are pathetic wherever you go,” his voice was filled with hate and you could see it in his eyes, “why don’t you do everyone a favor and go back to where you belong? To that filthy little place…”

His words were choked off before you could allow him to continue, you had freed yourself from his grip and left a mark on his cheek. You weren’t going to let him continue talking badly about you, you had enough with having to share the position, you wouldn’t let him insult you in any other way.

Your eyes were burning and you didn’t know how to speak, so you just pushed him away and got out of there, you ran through the hallways with a pressure in your chest that you already knew. You opened the first door you found and locked yourself in one of the empty rooms before falling again.

You touched your chest and tried to take a breath, but you knew it was useless, that lonely and empty feeling had made itself present and you knew you couldn't do anything to stop it. You stifled a scream deep inside yourself when you remembered his words, everything around you faded away and you let yourself be carried away to the depths of that feeling.

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

The hatred for Minho did nothing but grow from that day on, you didn't speak to him if he spoke to you at all and you didn't even bother to look at him anymore. Plus, you were fighting the inner voice in your head that screamed all your doubts about your future.

You had so many other things to think about, like for example the choreography you were dancing, but with everything else you couldn't think clearly and you were making too many mistakes, so much so that the teacher had left a while ago, but Minho insisted on continuing and you simply agreed almost without realizing it.

"To the right" you heard before colliding with Minho "don't you know where your right is?" you rolled your eyes and sighed, you no longer had the spirit to continue doing this, your body was tired and your mind scrambled with a thousand thoughts. Plus, you weren't going to put up with Minho's insults.

You walked around the room and grabbed your things, but before you left the room Minho crossed your path. You looked up angrily and sighed.

“Get away”

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked as you stepped aside and he did the same “this isn’t over”

“It’s over for me” once again he blocked your path and you gritted your teeth

“No” you closed your eyes tired of all this

“I won’t say it again” you warned him pointing your finger at his chest, but that didn’t seem to intimidate him

“You’re not taking this seriously”

“As if that matters to you” you said with venom in every word “after this you can continue as if nothing happened” Minho let out a sigh

“You think so?” you hesitated to answer him for a moment, you didn’t know what he meant, but it seemed like there was something else behind his words, but right now you didn’t care.

“Move” Minho blocked your way again and you were starting to get annoyed again

“We have to do this”

“What if I don’t want to do this? What are you going to do?” Minho stood there and you threw things aside, you pushed his body but he didn’t move “Why are you even doing this? You’ve never had to fight for what you want” you said feeling like everything you had kept inside was starting to emerge “I’m tired of doing everything just for nothing” you said almost like a confession while you were still trying to push him away

“Do you think you’re the only one who has problems?”

“Of course not, but…” you took a breath, this was absurd “do you even know everything I had to go through to get here? Of course not, you don’t know shit” you took a breath and threw out your words before he did it first “I had to give up a good life, with a good career, where I was sure I would make tons of money, I had friends until I found out they were just idiots” your voice started to break as you remembered everything, but you needed to continue, keeping everything to yourself for so long consumed you and you just let it out like a bomb that had been activated and couldn’t be stopped “my parents… they decided to act like I didn’t exist because this path wouldn’t take me anywhere and when I tried to prove them wrong… you appear…” you hit his chest and bowed your head shedding your tears.

Minho had remained silent, he felt uncomfortable and didn’t know what to say or do, he just stood there watching you break down little by little and your eyes spilled the sea of ​​tears that you had held back for so long.

He didn't want to say it and he wasn't going to, but a part of him knew how you felt, he knew that feeling and when you looked up at him he could see it, he could see the emptiness in your eyes and the loneliness inside you, but he couldn't do anything but look at you.

After coming back to reality you realized that you were crying in front of Minho, shame took over you and you just pushed him with all your strength and ran down the hall, you needed to get away from that place, you needed to get away from Minho, get away from all the thoughts that ran through your mind and clouded your vision, but you knew that no matter how hard you ran you had nowhere to go.

With your heart racing, your mind clouded and your vision blurry you managed to reach the stairs, but before you could continue moving forward someone called you, you turned around for a second and saw Minho running after you. You took a wrong step and felt your foot slip.

The last thing you felt was the immense, sharp pain of the blows to your body and foot. When you finished rolling down the stairs, all you could see was the ceiling covered in a bit of darkness. You couldn't move even if you tried. The floor seemed comforting for a moment and you stayed there, right in that position while everything around you seemed to fade away along with everything else.

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You were sitting in one of the many seats in the theater, front row, but you were too small and you just wanted to go home to play, but your mother asked you to be patient. Suddenly the lights went out and you felt a shiver run through your body when you noticed someone walking on the stage and then, the lights turned on focusing on her.

The music started playing and she began to dance, her hands moved delicately and it seemed like her feet made her float in the air. You were left with your mouth open and the whole time you had the feeling of watching the best thing in the world. When everything was over the theater was filled with applause, everyone seemed to admire and adore her.

At that moment you knew, you wanted to be like her.

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Tears were still running from your eyes when you woke up, your head and some parts of your body hurt, you remembered the fall on the stairs and you reacted, but when you sat up you realized you weren't in the academy. You were in a big bed with sheets covering your body and a rag on your head, everything around you was unknown and an alarm went off inside you.

You quickly sat up pushing the sheets, but when you tried to stand up your foot felt a pain that made you fall to the floor. You cursed and grabbed the edge of the bed to stand up again, but when you poked your head out you saw a cat in the middle of the bed that meowed when it saw you, but it made you let out a small cry from the fright.

The door suddenly opened and you stood still when you saw Minho.

“What are you doing on the floor?”

“You? What are you doing here?” Minho raised his eyebrows and a small smile appeared on his face

“It’s my house”

“What?!” You stood up with effort and complained a little about the sharp pain in your foot

“You fell down the stairs” Minho ran his hands through his hair and you noticed that he seemed tired “I… didn’t know what to do” your eyes met for a moment, but the next second you looked away remembering everything that had happened “I don’t know where you live… nobody really does” you bit your lip when you heard it and everything seemed to make sense

You felt embarrassed, thinking that Minho helped you after everything you confessed, but, even so, that didn’t free you from everything he had said about you. You sat on the edge of the bed because of a sharp pain in your foot and looked at your foot.

He was kneeling and you were scared for a moment thinking that you wouldn’t be able to dance, although a part of you was glad about it.

“You’ll be fine in a few days, it’s just a small sprain” Minho said

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been through something similar” you looked at your foot again, you didn’t know how long it would take for the swelling to go down and you sighed “that’s nothing, you’ll be able to walk in a couple of days”

The cat meowed taking you both out of its bubble, Minho approached and picked it up petting it, reminding you of your own cat.

“I have to go” you said hurriedly

“It’s raining” you paid attention for a moment and looked at the window to see that the sky was grey and the glass was full of small drops of water

“Shit” you complained

“You can stay”

“No” you said getting up and trying to take a few steps, but you stumbled, although you didn’t fall “it’s too late”

“Then let me take you home”

“No”

“Are you planning to walk in the rain in that state?” His gaze scanned you from top to bottom and stopped at your aching foot. You gritted your teeth. You knew you couldn’t walk, but you weren’t going to accept Minho doing anything else for you, not after what happened before.

“If I have to crawl home, I will do it just to be away from you.” Minho sighed and let go of the cat as he took a few steps to where you were. You wanted to get away, but you couldn’t and you just looked up.

“Then let me…”

“No, I won’t allow you to keep doing… this,” you said, raising your arms. “I don’t need your mercy, or your help. I can do it alone like I always have.” Minho stood still, looking at you with a strange expression that you couldn’t understand. “Do you expect me to thank you? Is that why you did all this?”

“No” Minho walked away without another word, but before reaching the door he stopped “If you want to leave someone else can take you home, if not, you can crawl home to get away from me” the cat got off the bed and followed him when you heard his last words “but not forever, darling”

The ride home was silent, the driver didn't speak to you besides asking your address but you were grateful for that, you didn't want to talk, you just wanted to get home and lie down on the bed. Although questions about Minho were starting to form in your mind.

When you opened the door a loud meow greeted you and you could only sigh in relief to see your cat. You picked him up and walked through the house to go give him some food.

“I’m sorry baby, I know you’re hungry” you said petting him when he took a big bite of the food “I was… busy” you knew it was absurd to try to explain it to him, but still something inside you needed to get it out “actually… I don’t know what happened” you sat on the floor and spread your legs while petting the feline “I fell down the stairs and then someone… helped me, although I don’t understand why, he didn’t owe me anything” you sighed and looked at the ceiling “he’s… he’s… an idiot, right?” the cat just meowed and kept eating.

That night you couldn’t sleep well, you had very strange dreams where Minho appeared and every time you woke up you hit yourself on the head to make him go away, but you couldn’t do it, plus you felt like his damn scent had stayed with you and you screamed into the pillow when you couldn’t do anything to get rid of it.

You tossed and turned in bed, but nothing could take your thoughts away from Minho and you hated him. You needed to calm down, but anything you thought about reminded you of him. You stared at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity and when you were finally managing to fall asleep it was when you thought of dark, cold, calculating eyes.

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Your foot still hurt a little, but you could bear it. You arrived early to rehearsal and you were surprised to see the empty room. You stood in the middle of the room for a moment and looked at yourself in the mirror, but you couldn't bear to look at yourself for too long without turning to your thoughts.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. A light melody began to play in your head and as if your body was moving on its own, you began to follow the melody. For a moment, all your worries, thoughts and feelings disappeared.

You let yourself go and danced around the room without any ties. It was just you and the music in your head. You danced for yourself and poured everything you felt into your dance. You felt every fiber move inside you. You felt your arms and legs synchronize to take you away from there and for the first time in a long time, you could feel like you were you again.

When you opened your eyes again, a part of you felt lighter, as if dancing had brought back a part of you that you had abandoned long ago. You smiled, trying to hold back your tears.

“Wow, you know how to dance.” You turned around suddenly only to find Minho leaning against the door frame.

“Fuck you.”

“I mean it.” He walked into the room, but you stayed where you were without taking your eyes off him. “I see you feel better.” He looked you up and down, and a small shiver ran through your body when he stared at you for too long.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Take this,” he said, handing you a bag, but you didn’t move and raised an eyebrow questioning his action. “It’s for your foot.”

“I don’t want it.” You crossed your arms and looked up. “Do you expect that with this, I’ll forgive you and forget everything you said?”

“I wasn’t the only one who spoke” you felt your cheeks burn a little as you remembered your own words “just take it and that’s it”

“No”

“Why does it bother you so much?” Minho sighed a little tiredly and you noticed the anger in his voice “Is it just because you’re not used to someone caring about you or is it because it’s me?”

Your words drowned in the depths of your chest and you wondered if you had heard correctly. Was he worried? About you? His words floated in your mind for a moment and stirred something inside you. You gritted your teeth and looked away, you didn’t know the answer and you didn’t want to find out right then.

“Just take it” he said annoyed taking your hand and making you hold the bag “and accept it” you were in shock, but you didn’t say anything, Minho walked away from you and left the room before you could say anything.

Once alone again, curiosity made you open the bag only to see a couple of medications and some candy, but among them you saw a chocolate bar and you were left wondering how he knew it was your favorite.

“Idiot” you whispered trying not to smile as you took a small bite.

The days got better, you felt that the rehearsals were more bearable, but you knew that something felt different, something inside you still worried you and made you wonder about the strange change in Minho's behavior. You didn't understand why from one day to the next he started to behave more tolerable with you, he no longer insulted you and he didn't argue with you.

“We're getting closer to the big day, you need to improve a little” the teacher reminded them when they got to the room “you need to give your all, I need you to really give yourselves to the dance, I need you to feel it and transmit it with your movements and your expressions” they both nodded “very well, let's work”

The music started to play throughout the room and you executed your movements automatically. Your arms rose in the air and you tried to endure the little pain that it left you when you stood on your toes.

"They should feel it" you heard the teacher say "transmit it" Minho held you by the waist and lifted your body into the air for a few seconds before meeting you face to face.

His gaze was the same as always, cold with a hint of mysterious darkness, but your body shuddered for a few seconds. He held your arm and guided you with the music through his movements, you focused on continuing to dance and continued spinning and jumping.

The music continued for a while longer, they repeated the choreography a couple more times and you were grateful when someone spoke to the teacher. You went to sit in a corner to catch your breath and check your foot. You sighed in relief when you saw it was okay.

In the distance you saw how Minho lay down on the floor with his limbs stretched out and breathing heavily. You looked at him curiously but quickly undressed your gaze when you noticed that his shirt had risen a little on his abdomen and left a little skin exposed.

You felt your face turn red and you cursed yourself for it, it was just a bit of skin, nothing you hadn't seen before, but somehow it felt different as if it was something forbidden that you weren't supposed to see and yet you looked up again.

His eyes were closed and his breathing had calmed down, it seemed as if he was sleeping, his face was serene and there was no trace of that calculating look, only tranquility.

You looked down a little in fear, but when you saw his toned body something inside you stirred. He had strong arms and his abs were worked.

"I can hear your thoughts up here" you quickly looked away and focused your gaze on the floor

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"Please" Minho turned to his side with one hand holding his head "I can feel your gaze on me the whole time"

"I wasn't looking at you" you said nervously trying to defend yourself. Minho smiled and stood up walking towards you

"Liar" you stood in your place feeling your nerves tickling all over your body "if you want to look at me just say it" you were going to say something to him when you saw how he lifted his shirt a little.

"Nobody wants to see you naked"

"Naked? I didn't say that" Minho made his smile bigger and you pressed yourself against the wall when he was closer "do you want to see me naked?"

"Of course not" you claimed almost screaming, feeling your face burn

You heard a laugh and looked up only to see Minho split in half laughing and… You were surprised. You had never seen him laugh like that, he seemed like another person, there was no trace of the person you hated and for a moment you stared at him.

"idiot" you said standing up, you gave him a little push when you passed by him, but he took your hand. When you turned around he wasn't laughing anymore, he was staring at you and you felt a chill

"I have something for you" he reached into one of your pants pockets and pulled out a small chocolate wrapper. You stared at him and didn't know if you should take it, but last time he made you do it so you did it fearfully with a question on the tip of your tongue.

"Why?" Minho seemed to understand and just shrugged his shoulders "why are you doing all this?" You raised your hands tired of trying to figure out his behavior "do you expect me to forgive you?"

"No"

"Then why?" You didn't want to break down in front of him again and you held back your emotions before they got out of control, but a small part of you remembered his words and you couldn't help but say them "is it because of pity?"

"No" He said raising his voice, he lowered his head and sighed heavily "it's just that…" Your eyes met for a moment, but this time it was different, you could see a little beyond the darkness and you perceived something different "I know what it feels like to be completely alone"

You were confused, you didn't know what to say, there was no answer to his words, now you only felt a great emptiness in your chest. Lee Minho, the person you always hated and envied was in front of you showing you a part of him that you didn't know.

"I…"

"Don't say anything" he interrupted you "just… take care of yourself" and so, confused and scared he left you in the middle of the dance hall with an unknown feeling in your chest.

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The days passed faster than you expected, with all the change in Minho's attitude and the fact that he didn't treat you badly anymore, the day of the competition came too soon. They hadn't stopped practicing and even though you tried to hide it, the nerves were starting to show, but you tried to hide it.

"You've worked very hard" said the teacher when she gave you a little break "but tomorrow you must give your all, mind, soul and body" you rolled your eyes, she had repeated the same thing for the last three days and you were sure of what she would say next, without paying attention to the teacher you looked away at Minho who also looked a little tired of the same thing, but when your eyes met he smiled and moved his mouth saying exactly the same thing as the teacher "you must be one" You almost spat out the water and coughed to catch your breath, but the teacher noticed it anyway. You looked at the ground trying to contain the smile on your face, even though you knew that was a stupid thing to do “okay, let’s continue”

You got into your usual position, you were ready and when the music started playing you did what you did best. Minho’s warm hand on your waist was already familiar but you still held your breath.

“You’re nervous” he said before you moved to the side to follow his steps

“Nervous? Me?” Minho took your hand and you stood on one foot on your toes as he spun you around “in the morning?”

“no” You rolled your eyes as he let go and continued dancing until you were facing him.

“I'm not nervous” Minho took you by the waist and you let your weight fall back while you stretched your arms and he held your weight with his arms, when you stood up again you found his face very close to yours

“I know you” his words distracted you for a moment and you heard the teacher's voice in the distance, you continued with the dance and when you were in front of him again you couldn't help but stay silent

“You don't know anything about me” you answered when you passed in front of him. When you placed your hands on his shoulders Minho took you by the waist and lifted you up.

“Of course I do” Minho replied as he set you down and spun you around “I know you don’t have any friends” you remained serious despite his words, but the continued “I know you live alone and apart from others out of fear” your body tensed up, but you continued moving around the room anyway

You moved away from him to do your jump and you were happy that it went perfectly, you stood still, waiting for Minho to finish the choreography and when his hands hooked around your waist you couldn’t help but tense up.

This moment was always weird, it felt like something intimate because after that he had to lean down and pretend to kiss you, even though they had never done it, he always hid your body with his and you just stayed held by his arms looking at his face.

“I know that despite everything you still pursue your dreams” he said at the end and you held your breath as you watched him get closer and closer

“Perfect” said the teacher taking you both out of the bubble in which you had been trapped for a moment “that is exactly what I want you to do tomorrow”

Minho sat up with you and you finally moved away from him. The teacher was saying something, but you were only aware of your burning body where Minho’s hands had touched you. You hated that he had that effect on you lately, it was not something normal, but you did not want to admit it.

“Well, then get some rest,” the teacher said, “you need all your energy for tomorrow.”

You hurried to grab your things and leave the room before Minho, you couldn’t keep looking at him without questioning things you didn’t want to admit and all of that was so absurd when you remembered how you had treated each other at the beginning, whatever you were starting to feel had to be a product of the pressure of the competition, you just had to wait until the next day for this to disappear.

You were about to leave the place when you stopped at the entrance when you noticed it was raining, you rolled your eyes and cursed silently as you mentally prepared yourself for the race you would make to your house, but when you were about to run someone took your hand. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, but you did anyway.

“What's wrong?”

“You're going to get wet,” Minho said seriously, still holding your hand.

“It's just a little water,” you said, trying to escape the feeling that formed in your stomach.

“You could get sick.”

“What do you want?” you asked, a little irritated and upset. “I need to get home.”

“I can take you home,” you bit your lips as you thought about his proposal. You saw the rain falling and thought about it again. Your house was far away, so you just sighed.

“Okay,” Minho seemed to smile, and before he could say anything else, he took your hand and ran to where his car was. He opened the door for you, and you got in without thinking twice. Minho got in right away, and you noticed some drops falling down his hair and some others sliding down his face.

There was something mesmerizing about watching him, and you bit your lips as he ran his fingers through his hair. You looked away, realizing that some drops had stuck to you, too. Minho's gaze rested on you for a second and you noticed how his eyes seemed to follow the trail of some drop that spilled from your forehead and passed over your lips where it was lost on your neck and under your neckline.

You shifted in your seat and when his eyes returned to yours you felt a shiver run down your spine, you couldn't understand it but you knew that he was hiding something beyond his gaze, something that you couldn't understand but that made you shudder and want to know what was beyond.

You didn't realize your labored breathing until Minho approached you putting his arm over your head and you held your breath when you felt his breath near your lips, his eyes were on yours and you could swear that time stopped, but when you saw his hand return with the seat belt something in you felt disappointed and you cursed for thinking that he would try something else, but you hated yourself a little more for thinking about something like that and not disliking the idea.

“Safety first” he said jokingly, but you just nodded, staring straight ahead as he started the car.

The ride was silent and you felt the weight of tension with every second that passed without talking, no matter how much you looked outside and tried to focus on something else your eyes always strayed to his hands holding the wheel. You needed to get out of there before your mind drifted to places you didn't want.

The rain seemed to get worse with every minute and by the time you got to your house it seemed dangerous so you invited him in thinking he would leave but now you were in the living room, silent and with nothing to talk about. You hoped everything would calm down but your insides didn't seem to want to. You were hyper aware of Minho's presence and you could even swear you could hear his heartbeat, or maybe it was yours, you didn't know anymore but you wanted all this to end even if it meant getting away from Minho again.

You got up to make tea and forget your thoughts. There were so many things you wanted to say, but you didn't know how to do it, you didn't know if the words would destroy the strange relationship you had built, a kind of friendship where you supported each other for a common good, although you knew that inside there was something more.

“Do you think this will stop?” his words brought you out of your thoughts and you looked up

“It has to stop” you said almost begging for it to stop, but the drops still fell heavily down the windows and didn't seem to want to go away for a long time

Silence reigned again in the small space and you took your hands determined to say something, but then Minho spoke again.

“I’ve been thinking about something” you turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow

“Wow… I didn’t know you could do that” you heard a laugh and you smiled at the sight

“I do it often, in case you were wondering”

“So… what are you thinking about?” you asked curious and nervous at the same time

“Me, you, us” you stopped what you were doing, trying to analyze if you were starting to go deaf

“Us?” you turned around again and noticed that Minho had stood up and was slowly approaching where you were

“I know I’ve been an idiot before” with each word he got closer and you tried to back away until you found yourself at the kitchen counter “maybe I still am, but now I know I’ve done things wrong” Minho was left only a few steps away from you “I’m sorry”

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it twice,” he said jokingly, but when he saw that you weren’t smiling, he repeated it without hesitation. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” you asked nervously, still stunned, not understanding his words.

“For everything, I’ve treated you badly and said things that weren’t right.” You gritted your teeth as you remembered the words that had been engraved in your mind. “The truth is, I… was jealous of you.”

“Jealousy?” Minho sighed heavily and lowered his head in shame. “What are you talking about?”

“I always saw you rehearse over and over again, I saw you give yourself completely to music without any effort, I… I can't do that and everyone kept reminding me of it, that's why every time I saw you I…” he lowered his head to catch his breath and hide the shame that all this caused him, but he got a little closer to where you were “I… wanted what you had” he raised his head again and you froze when you saw his eyes lit up by what looked like tears “I felt miserable and useless seeing all the effort you made and I could only get here with money, I know I'm not good at this and I still try, that's why I was jealous, that's why I turned everything into hate” you were frozen by his confession, the words had gotten stuck in your chest, there was nothing you could say and you just stayed trying to process everything

“I thought you… hated me” Minho let out a tired laugh

“I hated you, I hated your talent, but... hating you doesn’t serve me anymore… I can’t hate you anymore” he said ignoring you “but… all this…” he opened his mouth but it seemed like the words were stuck in his chest and he was struggling to get them out “this… absurd and useless feeling for you is killing me”

“What… are you talking about?” your voice shook with each word, your heart was agitated, you knew there was something floating in the air that you tried to ignore.

Minho sighed and looked at the ceiling, he reached his hand to your face, but stopped before doing so, as if doing so would hurt him.

“I… you…” he closed his eyes and lowered his hand, clenching his fingers into a fist “I can’t spend another second with you without my entire body wanting you, every time I see you I lose my breath, I can’t stop thinking about you, your eyes, your smile” his fingers lengthened a little and very gently caressed your cheek “everything about you drives me crazy and I can’t spend another second with this inside me”

All you could hear were the raindrops hitting the windows, the air didn't seem to be enough anymore and you could feel a pressure on your chest. You couldn't stop thinking about his words, a part of you wanted to scream at him, tell him he was lying, that it was a stupid joke, you wanted him to leave and never see him again, but there was something else, something inside you that was taking over you and you couldn't contain it.

“Minho” it was the first time you called him by his name, and he seemed to react to your voice like a scared dog “I… I don’t know what to say, this is all so confusing” you looked up at where he was “I thought you hated me, I… I hated you too, I hated the way you walked down the halls and the way you stood out everywhere… your stupid temper and the damn way you dance… you, you caught everyone with your dance and I can’t do that… but now that doesn’t matter… because I can’t hate you either, not anymore”

Everything went silent, the raindrops were a distant noise, but you could still hear your heartbeat in your chest. Minho walked to where you were and this time he didn’t stop, he took your face and looked into your eyes just like he always had, without fear and with curiosity, but now there was something else, something you had no doubts about, he looked at you with love.

“Give me one reason not to kiss you right now,” you held your breath and let go of the fear in your chest with every word he said. “Tell me to leave and that you don’t want to see me again. Ask me for anything and I will do it. Because you have my heart hanging in your hands now. It’s all yours and you can do whatever you want with it. Destroy it, mold it, design it, love it… my heart belongs to you now… and so do I.”

“Minho… please kiss me.”

It wasn’t a soft, slow kiss. It was a desperate, anxious one that reflected all of your confused and jumbled emotions inside. It was a hot kiss, full of everything you both had dragged along until now. You could feel your heart beating hard, but you ignored it and just focused on his kisses, on the way his hands seemed to tremble on your waist and the way his lips ran over every part of your mouth.

You lost yourself completely in him, you let yourself go and forgot about everything you ever questioned, there were no doubts anymore, there were no ties, there were no secrets, they were just two people who opened their hearts and now they were feeling it.

Minho's mouth was desperate, his hands slowly ran up your body, but you just wanted him to hurry up, to calm that fire inside you that had started to burn. You took his hands and placed them on your breasts without fear, you wanted him, you needed him and you didn't mind admitting it.

You moaned his name when his mouth slid down your jaw to your neck and your fingers tangled in his hair. Minho pressed his hands to your chest and you threw your head back moaning at the feeling of his hands on you. His mouth continued down to the neckline of your blouse and before he did anything he looked up with a silent question and you just nodded desperately. He put his hands underneath and got rid of your blouse, throwing it away along with your bra, freeing your breasts where his mouth settled, making you shudder.

Your hands moved down his body, touching every part of him, and you heard him let out a gasp when you touched him above his crotch. You slipped your hands under his shirt and took it off to admire his bare chest.

You stood still for a second, appreciating each other's half-naked bodies. Minho licked his lips before attacking your mouth again. His hands squeezed your ass before unbuttoning your pants, leaving a trail of kisses from your abdomen to your thighs.

Your breathing was agitated with the slightest touch of his mouth on your skin, his mouth leaving kisses on your thighs and you held your breath as you saw how his fingers hooked the edge of your panties and left you uncovered.

His hands caressed your thighs and slowly moved closer to your core where you moaned at the feel of his fingers on your wet pussy, his thumb searched for your clit and you saw him smile when you shuddered. He moved his finger slowly in circles and you could feel how you were getting wetter and wetter.

You didn't realize when your legs opened more, but when you felt Minho's mouth on you, you moaned his name holding his hair as he buried his tongue in you.

You turn your head back and let yourself be caught by the burning sensation running through your veins, his tongue on your clit makes your legs tremble, but when you feel his fingers near your entrance a shiver runs through your entire body. You look down for a moment to beg him, but before you can Minho slides a finger inside you and you moan his name.

“Minho… I…” you can’t finish the sentence, he slides another of his fingers in and curls them touching a sensitive part inside while his tongue moves over your clit. The fire inside you burned strong, you couldn’t hold it back any longer and you let it consume you completely.

Your legs were shaking and your breathing was labored when Minho stood up. He held you tightly by the waist and wore that triumphant smile on his face that you had previously hated, but now found attractive.

“Darling… you taste divine”

“Shut up” you claimed embarrassed

“Shut me up” you approached his lips and kissed him hard tasting yourself on his lips.

You pressed your body against his and felt his hardening on your belly, you stifled a moan in his mouth when Minho grabbed your legs and lifted your body.

“I'll take you right here if you don't tell me where the bed is.”

“Upstairs.” Minho didn't wait any longer and took you to your room where he left you on the bed while still kissing you as he took off his pants and boxers, leaving his cock free.

He placed himself on top of you and you stirred as you felt the tip of his cock caress your clit. Minho took his cock and placed it at your entrance, still looking at you, again with a question in his eyes.

“Min… I need you.”

Minho moved his hips slowly and you arched your back as you felt his cock stretch you and hit rock bottom. He placed his hands on either side of your head and kissed you, staying in that position for a moment, feeling your walls enveloping him.

From one moment to the next his hips moved back leaving only the tip of his cock inside and then he moved again making you moan over and over again with each thrust.

Your mouth kept saying his name, all you could feel was his body on yours and his kisses on your neck while you felt his breath on you. You had your legs around his waist and your hands around his back marking his skin with your nails with each push of his hips.

Your body was burning and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer if he continued like this, but suddenly Minho sat up and before you could say anything he took your legs and placed them on his shoulders bending you in half like a doll, but this new position made him go deeper and you moaned at the feeling.

“You should see yourself with my eyes darling… you’re magnificent”

“Minho… shut up and fuck me” you heard him let out a laugh before pushing hard and biting the inside of one of your thighs.

The new position made you feel everything more intensely and you could feel a knot in your belly that you couldn't hold back any longer, your legs trembled and Minho noticed.

“What's wrong darling?” He asked mockingly as he saw how you held the sheets and how your back was arching, you wanted to talk but the only thing that came out of you were moans of pleasure announcing your orgasm “a little more, I know you're a good girl”

His words only made you squeeze his cock tighter and that made him lose himself in his own ecstasy so he continued praising you.

“Are you going to cum around my cock?” you nodded desperately and Minho only leaned in closer to kiss you “do it… cum for me”

You obeyed him and let yourself be carried away by the pleasure that ran through your body at the same time that you felt Minho's release inside you and how it ran down your legs when he released you from his grip.

You could feel your unbridled heart beating at the same time as Minho's who was on top of you. At that moment they were one and the same and something inside you finally felt calm.

You closed your eyes and stayed that way for so long that you didn't realize you fell asleep until you opened your eyes again. Minho was next to you and his arms were around your body covered by some sheets.

"Sleep darling" you heard him say

"I don't think I can" you said snuggling into his chest hugging him back

"We have a competition to win, you better rest" he gave you a kiss on the forehead and that was enough to go back to sleep, taking away the feeling of emptiness you had before.

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Your nerves could get the better of you at any moment, you kept pacing back and forth and there was nothing that could calm you down, not even the teacher's encouraging words, not Minho's compliments, not even the voice in your head. You had never been so nervous and you knew the reason.

You had decided to invite your parents at the last minute thinking they wouldn't go, but when they said they would give you a chance everything inside you went off the rails. This could be a new beginning for your relationship if everything went well or maybe things could end up the same, anyway, it was too late to regret it.

Minho was serious, he was worried about your condition and he was afraid you would have an anxiety attack, so he was behind you all the time, but that only made you more nervous.

“Stop that” you said turning around and facing him

“I’m not doing anything”

“You’re following me” you said raising your voice, making the people around you look in your direction for a moment “I’m sorry”

“It’s okay, you’re nervous”

“Of course I’m nervous” you bit your nails to keep from crying, but Minho took your hands and you looked up into his eyes.

“Just breathe a little” you took a breath and your chest seemed to calm down a little “that’s it… everything will be okay okay?” you nodded not very sure of his words “we’ll go in there and the world will go to shit, it’ll just be you and me… okay?”

“Yes” You approached to kiss him, but you saw the teacher in the distance and you moved away from Minho as far as you could without knowing why

“It's your turn” the nerves returned to your body, but you tried to smile when the teacher pushed them close to the curtain, where the other people waited and watched the couple's presentation on stage “you are the best, you know it” said the teacher when the lights went out and left the stage free “prove it”

You closed your eyes for a moment trying to leave everything behind, as you always did when you danced, until you felt a hand take yours to move forward. You opened your eyes to look at Minho, his gaze was no longer cold or calculating as before, now it was warm and loving, you were no longer alone.

You walked forward together to the stage and got into position, you felt the thousands of eyes on you, but there were only a few that mattered to you and were in front of you.

“Let’s do this” you heard him say before the music started and everything around you stopped mattering.

You gave yourself completely to the music, all your movements synchronized with Minho’s and for the first time you understood the teacher’s words. Together you danced and gave your body, mind and soul to the stage, you let yourself be carried away by the melody and you felt your body flow with ease, with every jump you made, every movement, every turn, everything was perfect.

You could only hear your heartbeat, the music had long since gone, and the looks of the people no longer mattered, you could only focus on bright eyes full of love and desire.

Minho took you by the waist and lifted you up before leaning over you to finish the choreography, but this time you didn’t stop him from coming closer, you didn’t move away and you took his face and kissed him at the same time that the lights went out and the applause resonated throughout the theater.

“I love you” you heard him say and that was all you heard.

You knew someone would see them if they just opened the door, but you didn't care. His mouth was fiercely devouring yours as you held onto the small table in the place where they had decided to hide. His kisses were leaving you breathless, but you continued to taste his lips.

You felt the fire run through your veins and you let out a small moan when his hands ran down your bare legs until they squeezed your thighs.

"Min…" you moaned in his ear as his mouth slid down your jaw to your neck.

"Give me a reason not to rip your clothes off right now" he said running his hands down your wet center and you shuddered at the feel. You looked into his eyes for a moment

"Do it"

Minho ripped off your clothes and touched you with his fingers, the adrenaline from the dance was still running through your body and it excited you to think that someone could come in and see them, but the excitement after finishing their performance was so much that they ran to the first dressing room they found to get naked.

You moaned when his fingers touched your center and found your clit, his mouth fiercely attacked your neck and you felt his teeth on your skin, but you didn't need that, you wanted to feel him inside you.

Desperate, you pushed him away a little and Minho looked at you surprised when you pushed him to the small sofa that was there while you moved forward and took off the rest of your clothes, at the same time he did the same.

You climbed onto his lap and took him by the shoulders moving your hips feeling his cock on your wet pussy. Minho threw his head back and grabbed your thighs.

“Shit, Darling…” you didn’t let him finish his sentence as you grabbed his cock and sank down on it making him moan “someone… might see us”

“Then you better do this quickly” you said agitatedly moving your hips up and down marking the rhythm.

Minho grabbed your thighs and squeezed your skin tightly as he felt you bounce on him over and over again, he couldn't stop himself from kissing your breasts and biting your nipples to hear your own moans.

You were so immersed in each other that you had forgotten about everything that was happening outside the doors until after a while you stopped moving out of exhaustion, but Minho grabbed your hips and moved his up to continue until you felt your insides heat up from Minho's release.

You collapsed on his chest and smiled as you heard his heartbeat as he caressed your hair. Everything was calm and quiet until you heard your names over the speakers in the place.

“Did we win?” you asked bewildered hearing the applause of the people “we should go”

“Maybe” he said when you looked up and tried to move, but he held you back “but everything I care about is here”

“You're a fucking romantic”

“And you love it”

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EPILOGUE

"Don't you dare open your eyes" you heard Minho say as he led you through who knows where, nerves running through your body and you didn't know what he had in store but you were sure it wouldn't top your anniversary gift.

"I'm scared" you confessed with a nervous laugh

"Do you trust me?"

"No" Minho let go of your hands and you searched for him until his hands took your waist and made you move forward a little more between laughs

"You lie"

"Maybe" you felt a warm kiss on your temple and his hands leaving your body

"Wait here" he said before you heard his steps walk away

"No… Minho" you stood still for a moment until the nerves took over you and made you restless "Minho, this is not funny" with labored breathing you took off the blindfold from your eyes but you couldn't see anything, it was dark "Minho… I swear I'm going to…"

Suddenly the lights turned on and you held your breath when your vision adjusted to the place. Your eyes filled with tears when you saw Minho coming towards you again.

"Happy wedding anniversary"

"But… what is this?" you asked as he handed you some keys

"It's what you asked for" he said hugging you "your own dance studio, here you can dance, show others your incredible talent, it's all yours"

You couldn't hold back your tears any longer and hugged him back burying your face in his neck.

"Don't cry darling, it will ruin your makeup" you laughed a little before wiping your tears and hitting him in the chest

"I hate you"

"I love you too" he said before kissing you in the same place where you met.

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IF YOU LIKE IT PLEASE REBLOG

-> @cultofdionysusnet

Tag list: @zuuhaaa @T.leeknowsaurus @lilol @kissesmellow21  @melanctton @queenmea604

Divider: @fairytopea

[hotvintagepoll]

There's something serious I want to talk about before the contest proper starts. I got a lot of submissions for this contest, and I tried to include a good variety of scrungly little guys. In my head this is a tournament dedicated to the funny, odd, weird character actors, and I'm happy that we have a range of talent here from noir to comedy to horror to drama. With that said—

A few of the submissions walked a line that I felt uncomfortable with, where a physical disability or a facial disfigurement was treated as the only reason to submit someone as scrungly. These submissions made me uncomfortable—the equating of someone outside the able-bodied norm with, by one of my own definitions, a scraggly-looking opossum. It crosses a line for me to frame a person as being odd for simply......existing in a human body. That's not what this tournament is about—this is a tournament about character actors who gave us fun, weird performances, driven by their own acting choices, not an excuse to think someone strange just for the way they exist.

I define scrungle as coming from a person's agency and skill as an actor, an energy and electricity brought by the actor themself, not from an appearance. I will not tolerate any propaganda that focuses on an actor's body in a demeaning or fetishistic context. I also won't tolerate propaganda that gets weird about race or class, comments that focus on a person's look over their performance, etc. etc. And if (against my best intentions) any of the propaganda in a poll post falls into this, I hope you guys will let me know and I'll correct/remove it. Please talk to me if I fuck up.

Some of the people here overcame significant barriers against a society that did not want to see them, making the most of bit parts and sidekick roles by giving warm, funny, weird, and masterful performances. That is a wonderful thing, and a brave thing. Some of these actors never truly got to shine, because Hollywood did not want to see them as more than a stereotype. I want to honor those comedians and character actors anyway for what they did manage to do. This tournament is about highlighting all these scrungly guys for the fun, purposely weird acting they gave us, and I hope we can be considerate in how we talk about their work.

tl;dr Respect for bodily autonomy and diversity of humanity is important in this competition, and it's important to me that we don't conflate "scrungly," ie an intentional performance of weirdness driven by the actor's choices, with "I think they look weird therefore they are weird," which is gross and dehumanizing. Do not do that. I won't tolerate anyone being weird about people who are just being people.

I hope this makes sense and I used the right language! See you guys Thursday :)

[literaryavenger]

I love you and I hate it - part 2

Summary: After your fight with Bucky, you put all your efforts into avoiding him, convinced that your friendship is over. Bucky, however, has other plans.

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Reader being dramatic. Angst. Language maybe. Minimal use of Y/N. Fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: I promise I didn't mean to make it this long, but I couldn't help myself, again, and I didn't want to end on another 'cliffhanger' so here it is! hope you like it!

Part 1

Masterlist

Bucky can't believe what he just heard... You like him?

No, you used the word ‘love’. You love him.

Do you love him?

Certainly, he would’ve noticed if you did... Right? He is a trained assassin, he was taught how to see beyond people’s words and actions.

And he knows you, you can deny it all you want, but he knows you better than anyone. He knows you better than he knows himself.

And if he’s being honest, you know him better than anyone ever has, Steve included.

You feel safe, you feel calm. You feel like the peace he’s always wanted, the quiet he needs.

You feel like home. In a platonic way, of course.

Right?

His thoughts of you are interrupted by Sharon’s voice. He didn’t even realize he was back at the party.

"Where did you go?" she asks and, suddenly, her grip on his arm was just a little too tight for his liking. But it was probably nothing.

"I went to check if Y/N was okay."

"Oh." something in her voice felt wrong, but Bucky tried to ignore it, that is until what she said next.

"Why would you even care about her? All she does is embarrass you like before. She’s useful to no one, I heard the only reason she’s even on the team is because she slept her way to it." she laughed like it was the funniest thought in the world, and Bucky couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Not only was she saying hurtful, untrue things about his girl, but she has the audacity to laugh at her own cruelty?

"How dare you?" he does his best not to yell, but his tone still startles Sharon. "Y/N is the best agent in all of Shield, that’s why she got in the team! She’s not an embarrassment, she’s a valued member of our family and she’s my best friend! Of course I care about her, she’s the most important person in my life! Don’t ever talk about her that way again."

Sharon seems shocked at his words but, looking around, she realizes people are starting to stare so she tries her best to defuse the situation. "Alright, I’m sorry, I won’t say things like that again. Let’s just calm down and have a nice rest of the evening, ok?"

In his head Bucky knew her request was reasonable, he could forget about this and keep having fun with his girlfriend. But in his heart he just knew he couldn’t let it go.

The words were coming out of his mouth before he can stop them, not that he even wants to.

"You know what, Sharon? This isn’t working. We have to break up." He doesn’t even give her a chance to say anything before he’s turning around and making his way to his room.

Meanwhile, on the roof, Steve’s trying to talk you down the ledge. Metaphorically speaking, obviously. 

"He hates me, Steve." you can't stop the tears.

"Stop saying that, sweetheart, he doesn’t hate you."

"You saw what happened at the party, the way he looked at me. And he heard me say that I love him and walked away like it was nothing." You sniffle. "If he didn’t hate me before, this certainly pushed him off the edge."

Steve has nothing to say to that, he knows Bucky doesn't hate you, but he also knows that you’re too stubborn to hear any reason, especially not right now when you're in the eye of the tornado and can't see a way out.

Right now you need a friend and shoulder to cry on, usually Bucky would take on that role, but, given the circumstances, Steve decides to step up and be that friend.

He wraps his arms around your crying body and holds you as you let it all out. Neither of you say anything else, the only sounds in the dark of the night being your sobs, until eventually you calm down and after a few moments of silence Steve glances down to see you fell asleep. 

Not wanting to wake you he carefully picks you up and makes his way to the elevator.

When he gets to the floor you both reside in he finds Sam and Natasha chatting at the kitchen counter, probably about to go to bed after coming up from the party.

Sam gives him a confused look, while Nat seems to understand what is going on right away as she moves without saying a word, walking ahead of Steve towards your room.

She opens the door for him and walks in behind, moving the covers back as he lays you on your bed as carefully as he can, and then Nat delicately takes your heels off before covering you with the duvet.

As they’re leaving your room the door opposite yours opens, revealing a hopeful Bucky but when he sees it’s not you, his face becomes stoic once again. He’s about to ask where you are when Natasha beats him to the punch.

"Leave her alone, Barnes. You’ve hurt her enough already." Is all she says before she steps into her own bedroom.

Bucky looks to his best friend for help but, at his confused face, the blonde super soldier just shakes his head in disappointment and walks away without a word.

Bucky stands there for a few minutes, just staring at your door like he's gonna will you to open it and talk to him.

He sighs and goes back to his room where he spends the next few hours overthinking about you and this whole night, eventually falling into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning when you wake up you feel at peace for about 10 seconds before the events of last night hit you like a truck, and all you can feel is humiliation.

How can you face the team after they witnessed your fight with Bucky?

How can you face Steve after he saw you at your most vulnerable and, apparently, carried you to bed after you cried yourself to sleep?

How can you face Bucky after he heard you say you love him and he walked away from you?

You can’t, that’s the answer.

Should you just move out? Just quit the team, ask Hill to be reassigned? Maybe you could even get transferred to another country...

You’re not overreacting, right? This is a very embarrassing situation and you have every right to want to run away from all of it.

As you’re making up an escape plan in your mind you hear a knock on your door, followed by Steve’s voice. "Hey, are you awake? We just want to make sure you're okay…"

You try to be as silent as you can, slowing down your breathing praying he’ll think you’re sleeping.

You can hear him exchange some muffled words with what sounds like Natasha, and then you hear their footsteps as they walk away, so you let out a relieved sigh.

Okay, step one is definitely getting out of this room, it’s just the most obvious place where to look for you.

You get up and out of your awfully classy dress, take a shower being sure to clean away all the makeup from last night and put on the most comfortable sweats you own.

Just as you’re opening the door you can see Bucky opening his about to get out and, in a panic move, you run back inside your room and slam the door shut.

Very subtle, yes.

You rest your back against the door and can hear him sigh and then walk away.

You wait a few minutes, just to be sure, and then relax a little. Your plan was to go to the gym and work out a bit, but now all you can think about is getting the hell out of this compound.

You grab your purse, make sure to have your phone and keys in it and open the door, making sure no one’s around before getting out.

You’re practically running, taking the stairs for good measure, and in a flash you’re at the garage. You jump in your car and drive away as fast as you can without breaking the law, not even knowing where to go.

Once you’re in the city you stop at a cafe for breakfast near your favorite book store, the one you and Bucky have visited together a hundred times.

Okay, stop that. No more thinking about Bucky.

You spend the rest of the day just going from one store to the other, stopping to have lunch at the diner you always go to when you’re in the city, and trying not to kick yourself for not being able to stop thinking about Bucky.

Seriously, why can’t you stop thinking about him?

It doesn’t help the fact that every one of your favorite places has at least a hundred and twelve memories of Bucky.

God, have you ever gone anywhere on your own in the last two years?

The more memories come to mind the more you think that maybe transferring wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Go somewhere new, get a fresh start.

When it starts getting dark you decide to drive back to the compound, but when you park and turn the car off you can’t find it in yourself to get out.

You take out your phone, which you’ve been ignoring all day, and go through all the messages of your worried friends, hating yourself a little more when you catch yourself looking for his name in your notifications.

Just as you’re about to answer Tony’s texts first, you get a call from Steve. You stare at your phone, unsure if you can stomach answering him right now, but your decision is rendered moot when someone taps against your car window.

Your head snaps towards it and you let out a breath of relief when you see Steve standing there, holding his phone and using it to tap on your window again.

You close your eyes for a second but resign to your fate as you gather your things and get out of the car.

When you lock your car you turn to see that Steve moved to be leaning on the trunk of your car, so you join him and wait for him to say something, not knowing what to say yourself.

"So," he starts, with his arm folded in front of his chest and looking at his shoes "you’re avoiding all of us now?" You let out a sigh, feeling bad for hurting his feelings.

"I’m sorry, Steve. I just…" you can’t even look at him as you talk, so you just look ahead of you at all the cars "I’m just embarrassed. After everything that happened last night, I don’t know… God, you even carried me to bed like a child." you cover your face with your hands.

You finally look at him when you hear him chuckling. "That’s what friends do, Y/N. They lean on each other." he bumps your shoulder with his playfully.

"I know we’re not as close as you and Bucky, but I am your friend too. I’m not gonna judge you for last night, I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s what we all want. You made us worry that you might run away on us." He says the last part as a joke, but you can’t help looking away from him.

That’s exactly what you wanted to do.

You bite your lip as he keeps looking at you and you feel like he can see the gears turning in your head, like your thoughts are so loud and your guilt so visible that he knows right away he was right on the money.

"Y/N…" it’s almost a warning, but you still can’t find the courage to look at him. "You were seriously thinking of running away?!" he seems almost shocked.

"Okay, it’s not like I’m a teenager running away in the middle of the night after a fight with her parents!" you finally look at him. "I was just considering… I don’t know, maybe asking for a transfer?"

"So you actually want to leave the team just because you had a fight with Bucky?" He scoffs.

"It’s not just the fight, Steve, he knows I love him and he doesn’t even care!" You yell before sighing and lovering your voice.

"Do you realize how much that hurts? And now I’m supposed to, what? Just go back to how things used to be? Pretend like nothing happened? Even if we’re not friends anymore, he lives across the hall from me! I’m bound to see him and it’s gonna hurt every fucking time!" You’re almost crying, again, but you hold back not wanting to go through that again and you look away.

"I know it hurts, trust me, sweetheart, but… what about us?" you look at him again as he goes on. "We’re your team too. We’re your friends, we’re your family... You can’t just leave us. I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, but we can help you make it better. We all care about you a lot." It’s honestly a miracle you’re not crying already. You feel him take your hand, but don’t look away from his face.

"Please let us help you." you squeeze his hand and nod, not trusting your voice not to break and the flood to hit as soon as you open your mouth.

He smiles at you and you can’t help but do the same. "Good. Then let’s go up and have dinner like we always do." He starts walking and taking you with him, his hand still in yours.

While you’re waiting for the elevator you can’t hold yourself back as you turn to him and give him a tight hug. "Thank you."

He hugs you back just as tight. "Anytime, rookie." you snort and let go of him, giving him a punch in the arm you’re sure he didn’t even feel as he laughs with you.

When you get to the big kitchen most of the team is already there and you sit down next to Natasha while Steve sits at her other side.

The seat next to you is quickly occupied by Sam as he bings the pizza to the table. He gives you a side hug and squeezes your arm in sympathy but aside from that nobody even mentioned what happened last night, which you're grateful for.

You eat like always, having conversations, laughing and teasing each other like normal, you didn’t feel like anyone was pitying you and you realized Steve was right: these people are your family, you could never leave them.

And, as you watch Loki and Peter trying to make you laugh by messing with Thor’s hair, putting tiny umbrellas in it while he's not looking, you just know they’re gonna help you through everything.

What makes you sad to notice is that one brooding super soldier is missing, though you don’t bring it up for fear of opening that particular door.

And that’s how you spend the next few weeks: avoiding anything and everything that has to do with Bucky, including the man himself.

You start training with Natasha and realize how easy Bucky went on you.

You do more missions with Sam and Steve and realize that missions aren't as fun for everybody as they were for you and Bucky.

You hang out during your down time with pretty much everyone and realize that you couldn’t have as much fun with everyone as you had with Bucky.

So yeah, as much as you could avoid Bucky and talking about him to anybody, he lived rent free in your head.

Fun, huh?

It also didn’t help the look that Steve gave you every time you basically ran out of a room as soon as you caught a glimpse of your former best friend. 

Everybody noticed the change in your friendship, but it felt like they all took a silent oath to not mention anything to either of you, and you were glad they were respecting your choice to stay away from Bucky.

He, on the other hand, was going crazy.

He hasn’t seen you in weeks, except for those few seconds before you realize he’s in the same room and run away.

He doesn’t hear your voice unless he’s eavesdropping on you with someone else, but even then he never hears his name come out of your mouth.

Nobody will tell him anything about you, the only thing he can get out of Steve is ‘she’s okay, just give her time’.

He’s been trying his best to give you the space you need, but he feels like he’ll lose his mind if he doesn’t hear you say his name soon.

It’s been a month of successfully and not so subtly avoiding Bucky.

There was one time where, as the team about to land for a mission, he got much too close to you for your liking and you thought he was about to say something so you grabbed a parachute and quite literally jumped out the jet, then walked the rest of the way to the Hydra base.

Everyone had to wait for you, some annoyed, but most found the situation too amusing to be bothered by it.

Anyway. 

You’re at the gym for an early morning workout, a habit you took to when you started avoiding Bucky.

You know he usually stays up at night. Occasionally because he still gets nightmares, usually because his overthinking mind tortures him until early hours. So he uses mornings to sleep in when he doesn’t have missions.

You’re on the treadmill when you hear the doors of the gym open behind you but think nothing of it, assuming it’s just Steve replacing his morning run with a workout because it’s too hot to run outside.

When you don’t hear him say anything, you’re about to turn your head to see who it is, but before you can do anything you feel two hands, one cold and one hot, on your waist.

You squeal when they pick you up and take you away from the treadmill, setting you down on the ground in front of it before turning off the machine.

"Bucky, what the fuck?! I could’ve gotten hurt!" you were so shocked you didn’t even fully realize you were actually talking to the person you’ve spent so much time and effort avoiding, or that you were walking backwards while Bucky was getting closer to you.

"Oh please, I’d ever let you get hurt." he’s sounds almost amused, like this is a normal thing between you two, but the truth is he’s just happy that you’re actually talking to him.

When your back hits the wall you realize too late that it’s Bucky in front of you and suddenly you’re looking around you to find a way to escape. But all you find is that he’s successfully trapped you between the wall and his body, his hands on the wall at either side of your head.

You swallow hard and if he notices he doesn’t say anything, but your brain is too busy registering the warmth of his body so close to yours to even be ashamed right now.

"Is this the only way I’ll get to talk to you now?" you almost miss his question, your eyes snapping up to meet his and, where you expected to see a smug look at having caught you not only off guard but also ogling, you found a frown and a slight pout.

Something about the hurt on his face stopped you from lying or straight up kicking him so he’d move and you could run away.

No, Bucky was your best friend, you’ve always felt the need to be honest with him ever since that first day, and even now you owe it to him to tell him nothing but the truth.

"I just need time." You hoped he understood.

"How much more time do you need?" Apparently not.

"I don’t know, can’t you just be patient?" You can't believe you really have to ask him this.

"It’s been a month, doll, I think I’ve been plenty patient. Are you planning on avoiding me forever?"

"Not forever… just… I don’t know." If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know how long you would’ve kept on avoiding him.

You were so busy doing the actual avoiding that you didn’t take the time to think about when you’d be able to stop.

You let out a sigh, but didn’t look away from his eyes for a second. He needs to know you meant every word you're about to say. "I was hurting, Bucky. I still am. I get that you have a girlfriend-"

"I broke up with her." he interrupts you.

"You… What?" you weren’t expecting that. "When?"

"The night of our fight. I would’ve told you sooner but it was hard to catch you, you know, with you avoiding me and everything."

You almost lost your train of thought, but it didn’t matter that he was single, he was still the first one to walk away, why was it so wrong for you to do it now?

"It doesn’t matter… I know you don’t owe me anything, but you walked away from me. From my feelings." you can see Bucky’s confusion so, before he can say anything, you explain yourself.

"That night on the roof. I know you were there, you heard me say that I loved you and you walked away like it was nothing. Like I was nothing. I know you don’t like me like that, and I can live with that in time, but it hurt. It still hurts." you don’t know what you were expecting him to say, but it definitely wasn’t he says next.

"Do you remember the day we met?" you furrow your brows in confusion but he waits for you to nod before he keeps going. "We’ve never really talked about it, have we? It's ironic since we’ve talked about pretty much every topic we could possibly come up with. But that day, you introduced yourself and I just got up and walked away. Kind of what you’ve been doing this past few weeks."  he chuckles a bit and you have the impression he's getting closer to your face, but you're probably just imagining that.

"Yeah, I thought I did something wrong, but you were just a rude bitch." he laughs and you can’t help but smile.

"I’m sorry about that, I just… the second I saw you I felt weird. And when you talked to me it was too much, I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t know what I was feeling and my brain just screamed at me to get out, so I did. Then you came to my door and said all those nice things and that weird feeling started to feel more and more comfortable as you talked. It was nice. Then we became friends and I guess I just dismissed that feeling as friendship. It was a different type of friendship that I’d never had... But then again I’ve never been this close to a woman. Emotionally speaking, of course." His hand comes to cup your cheek and you can’t speak, so he takes the opportunity to say everything he needs to say.

"This month has been hell for me, doll. I’ve missed you more than I’ve ever missed anybody in my entire life. Not being able to spend time with you, joke around, talk to you, barely even see you. It's been driving me insane. Being away from you for so long made me realize what that feeling was. You’re not just my best friend, you’re my person. You’re my calm, and my reason. You’re my happiness, my home. You’re the love of my life."

"What?" you're basically whispering, so quietly you’re sure he wouldn’t have heard you if he didn’t have super hearing.

"I love you too, doll. I love you." he holds your face in his hands "I love you."

You feel like your brain shut down all of a sudden. You barely know how to breathe, let alone talk. All you can do is stare at him, the look he's giving you making you weak in the knees.

"You’re killing me here, doll. For the love of god, say something, angel." The nickname seems to snap you out of it, and there's only one thing in your mind left to ask.

"If you love me, why didn’t you tell me on the roof?" He let out a deep sigh, you can feel his breath on your lips, but you try your hardest to focus on his words and not his lips.

"For one I was still with Sharon. And I didn’t really know what I was feeling. Also, I wasn’t even sure you were serious. Honestly, I was just confused about the whole thing, and still mad about the fight. Nothing good would’ve come from me staying and talking to you that night. I probably would’ve ended up hurting you more." All that makes a lot of sense, sure, but it doesn't change the fact that it hurt.

The look in Bucky’s face at the moment though makes you want to forgive him right this second and let this whole thing go. Pretend like the last month didn’t happen. 

So that’s what you do.

"What if…" you start, looking back and forth between his eyes and his lips "what if we forget all of this happened?"

"No." he answered so fast and firmly that it made you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and disappointment. "I don’t want to forget anything about us, doll. Good or bad, it’s all worth it, as long as it ends with you in my arms."

You're melting and can't hold yourself back, you grab his face and bring his lips down to yours.

He freezes, probably not expecting it, but when you're about to pull away, he holds your face to keep you there, deepening the kiss.

After a few moments you hear someone clear their throat and almost throw Bucky off of you, looking behind him while he turns to see who it is and you see Steve and Sam standing there, amused looks on their faces.

"We were just talking." You blurted out and Sam cracked and almost doubled over with laughter.

"Really?" Steve said while raising an eyebrow, almost exasperated and knowing damn well what you were doing.

"Sure they were, Steve, she was obviously trying to get the word out of his mouth!" Sam said to the blonde, still laughing his ass off.

"Oh, of course she was. Tell us, sweetheart, what did you find in Bucky’s mouth?" Steve was now laughing too, and you were so embarrassed you hid your face in Bucky’s chest.

He wrapped his arms around you, barely glaring at the two laughing idiots. "Ok, just get out of here, punks." Fortunately for once in their lives they decided to actually listen and left, their laughs echoing through the halls.

"You okay there, doll?" Bucky was now chuckling at your embarrassment.

You raised your head and, meeting his eyes, you said "I can’t believe Captain Dumbass is making fun of us for kissing."

He started laughing and you gladly joined him, looking forward to making up for the time you missed with him, unknowingly promising each other to never let go of the other ever again.

taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @spookyparadisesheep @scott-loki-barnes @pattiemac1 @emerald-writes @sapphirebarnes

[betterbooktitles]

"I’m certain I’m not the only millennial who feels we as a nation have taken a dizzying turn when it comes to drugs. I remember a uniformed police officer showing up once a week in 5th Grade (a year before Sex Ed) to explain how to avoid buying and taking drugs. Luckily, I already knew the dangers of the drug trade because I had seen The Usual Suspects. I knew cocaine was a bad thing to buy, sell, or steal, especially from a drug kingpin. The D.A.R.E. program, however, let me know how important it was to say no to anything fun, including alcohol. At least until I understood a little algebra first. We did role-playing exercises where we walked one by one toward the portly police officer and he casually asked if we wanted to hit a mimed joint with him. All we had to do was say “no” and walk to the other side of the room, defying the only rule I knew about improv. We wrote essays about how important it was to preserve our pristine bodies and minds, obviously unsullied since we had yet to take the class teaching us how puberty was going to defile them both. I’m still mad that my friend Nicole’s essay beat mine in a contest, and she got to read hers in front of the whole school all because she had the benefit of an older brother who took too much acid and sat in her room all night talking about why the existence of light proved God was real. My essay about a time I saw my friend’s dad drink a beer and then drive his truck somewhere was also good! We signed pledges to enter the new millennium drug-free. We took the red pencils that said “Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Drugs” and sharpened all of them down to say “Let Friends Do Drugs,” “Friends Do Drugs,” “Do Drugs,” and simply “Drugs.” Despite that little rebellious act, my friends and I spent a solid six months swearing we’d never put any harmful substance into our bodies besides every form of candy available.

Imagine how I feel now as a D.A.R.E. graduate becoming my dad’s drug dealer. It’s less thrilling than I thought it would be. Between my father’s warning not to hang around one specific neighborhood in Cleveland as a kid and nearly every TV show about drugs, I thought I’d always be buying marijuana from an intimidating dude who definitely had a gun and would use it immediately if he thought I was wearing a wire. Instead, I now buy marijuana from a well-lit storefront that looks like the Apple Store. I’ve even gone to a place where a guy with an iPad explained what each available strain would do to me. I buy what sounds good with all the confidence of a man pointing at items on a menu written in a language he can’t read. I put it all in a cardboard box. I place a book on top. I mail the box to my dad from my local post office. I tell myself the book is to hide the contraband crossing state lines, but in truth, the book is what clears my conscience. I want to send my dad something edifying while also sending him the drug that all of America worried would make me unable to read if I tried it once. The unrequested book is a red herring to distract from the vice, like when you were young and didn’t want to buy condoms outright at the store so you cushioned them between a pack of peanut M&Ms and a magazine. Hmm, what else did I need, — right, while I’m here — might as well pick up a few condoms.

Right as marijuana becomes legal in most states, I’m about done with the drug. I’ve had three good times on edibles, and one of them was when I felt nothing and fell asleep at 9:30 PM. I’m flabbergasted that my dad likes edibles. He seems to be a man free of anxiety. Case in point, I once brought him some THC lozenges to our summer holiday in Chautauqua, and around dinner time I told him “You might want to only take half of what I gave you” to which he replied, “I took it hours ago.” He was stoned and no one noticed.

While I’m stuck in my head, stoned or sober, wondering why I didn’t take some acting gig 15 years ago, wondering if I’ll ever make enough money, worrying I’m doing everything wrong including in this moment as I write this sentence, my dad is enjoying himself.

Judith Grisel, the author of Never Enough: The Neuroscience And Experience of Addiction, describes using marijuana as throwing “a bucket of red paint” on your brain. She was approaching the stimulant clinically in terms of how it differed from the laser focus of other drugs (THC reacts with many receptors in the brain, cocaine focuses on one), but now every time I smoke, I think of the red paint metaphor. While other people seem able to crank an entire joint and do insanely complicated stuff like function at their jobs, I am reduced to a gelatinous blob, on top of which my eyes and brain are navigating a dream state that, like many dreams, isn’t all that interesting the next day. Mostly, I get high and can’t decide what I want to watch on TV or what video game I want to play, I realize how hungry I am, and then I fall asleep with cereal still stuck to my teeth. Pot, for me, is like the squid ink hitting the screen in Mario Kart: I can still see where I’m going, but everything gets a little harder to do, and the panicked half-blindness makes everything slightly more chaotically fun."

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An essay on Claire Dederer's book Monsters and movies made by monsters.

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[cloudysarts]

Hi there!!

I want to say that your “Mabel’s muse” Au concept has absolutely called my attention, Bill mentions multiple times (Dipper and Mabel’s guide to mystery and fun and TBOB) how he likes Mabel’s personality and wanted her to be his ally…sooo the idea of an alternative time where he decided to approach her and where she trusts him and considers him as her friend is absolutely full of potential

I just think about how many stuff would change and how bill would be a little more genuine with her as he for once isn’t pretending to be an all-wise being and having to constantly rise the ego of Genius minds…instead he just has to party with a teenager whose idea of fun is quite similar to his…he doesn’t have to be the “supreme being” for once just a silly fella in order to earn Mabel’s trust

Also about how some episodes would have to take a completely different route:

maybe “Mindscapers” wouldn’t even take place…because I doubt that Mabel would trust a Bill if he went inside Stan’s head

Bill possessing her during the “sock opera”episode instead of dipper

Also don’t get me started on “the last Mabelcorn” episode. All the angst and horror that Ford would feel when he finds out about the whole friendship with bill situation reflecting himself on Mabel and probably Dipper being the one who search for the unicorn hair while ford tries to convince her that Bill isn’t trustworthy

I apologize for my rant but I seriously love your idea and sorry if it’s a bit confusing English isn’t my first language

I hope you have a nice day and thank you for reading this silly thing!!

first of all, your english is great!! second of all, i am SO sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, it just made me so happy that i wanted to take my time to craft a response!!!!!! :DDDD (context: for people who don't know what my 'mabels muse' au is, you can check it out over here!)

you are practically SPOT ON with my ideas for this au!!!!!! but i'm gonna briefly run through all the things you brought up!!

first of all, yes, absolutely!!!! for bill, partner-ing up with mabel was a very nice change of pace. he likes stroking the ego's of genius', just for his own amusement, but he doesnt get the THRILL of just getting to PLAY very often!! he's a very childish being, at the end of the day. he enables mabel's selfishness, while getting to indulge his own, silly passions right alongside her!! and obviously, mabel LOVES being enabled <3 i imagine most of the dreams he gives her would make any normal persons eyes bleed

as for your episode ideas, you're mostly right!!! :) mindscaperers does, in fact, NOT happen in this au. in my head, i imagine gideon trying to summon him, only for an 'I.O.U' to appear where bill should be. he's busy hanging out with his favorite pre-teen!!! so gideon skips straight to his backup plan, aka, gideon rises ^^

for sock opera, i'm still on the fence a little bit. one of the reasons bill is hanging out with her at all in this au is because, unlike in the regular timeline, this bill actively wants stanford to be brought home. the reason mabel is important to him, is because he can see timelines where she presses the button in not what he seems, and keeps him from returning. in his mind, he has the greatest shot of success if mabel doesn't press it. in this au, she doesnt even hesitate to trust stan, because she has another, trustworthy voice in her head, yelling DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON. its 2v1! ANYWAY, the reason any of that matters for sock opera, is because he wouldnt have any need to possess anyone, because he has no interest in smashing the laptop! BUT.....i can see him doing it anyway. i figure, most likely, he gets mabel to (willingly) let him use her body, so that she can work on her sock opera while her body sleeps. i just imagine a bill-possessed mabel up at 3 am, covered in hot glue and googly eyes as he tries to work it out shjdkfhjsdkf. but......honestly, he probably destroys the laptop in the process :) just to fuck with dipper <3 not that dipper ever finds out its her. he has no idea that mabel was ever possessed/has no reason to suspect her, because at this point, he still doesnt think bill is real. that is....until the last mabelcorn.

IN the last mabelcorn, mabel reveals to ford that she does recognize bill, and that he lives in her brain! she says it really excitedly, at the table, while dipper kind of just rolls his eyes about it. to her, its vindicating, because it's the first time anyone has ever acknowledged bills existence. but to ford, its HORRIFYING, because he knows it isn't just a coincidence. he knows he has to do something, but he doesn't know what, right away. this is where our ideas differ a little bit, because i think that mabel still WOULD be the one retrieving the unicorn hair! ford just didnt tell her what the hair was for. ford sends her off, because he wants to brainstorm a way to get him out of her head, preferably without hurting her/her memories. he also plans to bill-proof dippers mind in the process, just in case mabel is too far gone already. the events here happen basically the same (with minor tweaks), but instead of dipper suspecting that ford is evil/bill-possessed, this is where he finally learns that bill is real at all. ford tells him about his backstory, and explains the REAL reason he sent mabel out to get the unicorn hair, etc etc. he loves mabel a lot, but hes not sure how to go about dealing with this situation yet. its not HER fault she trusted bill, but he knew that if he just tries to tell her hes evil, she wont believe him. shes known 'her muse' longer, and as of right now, he's never lead her wrong. just like what happened to him in the past...

i wonder how mabel would feel if she only heard the end of that conversation...

(more of this au here and here!)

[snailmail444]

Can I get a headcanon of the bachelors and how they'd be sexy with you when you're down? Like, if they're trying to cheer you up and be a little goofy with it but also tryna HIT. THAT. 🤣🤣🤣

Thanks Snail, ILU.

Bachelors Goofing Their way Into Your Pants

18+ 🌱 MDNI 🌱 NSFW (-ish)

This one was a tough ask Libby but I’ll do nothing if not stand and deliver 🫡 Honestly might be my favorite head cannon list for the bachelors I’ve ever done so THANK YOU for this prompt icon. NSFW? -ish under the cut (lewd?? Idk lol)

Harvey-

💚 Perhaps the goofiest about this

💚 He would not try to come onto you when you’re down unless he KNOWS it’s going to pick you up

💚 So once he’s confident let’s start there

💚 It’s a song and dance

💚 Dissappears, and when he’s back he’s got his med kit

💚 He gets out the stethoscope and all. The whole nine yards.

💚 That’s right folks. We’re paging Dr. Love

💚 Will NOT let you stop this routine. Dr. Love WILL be completing the full assessment. Listening to your heart rate, checking your throat and ears, somehow always having to complete a chest exam

💚 (M or F he will be groping your tits for this one)

💚 The diagnosis is in

💚 There’s Only One Cure for What Ails You

💚 You guessed it! You need a little lovin’ (Dr. Love’s catchphrase)

💚 Important note: Dr. Love is not a licensed medical practitioner

💚 This works a little too well perhaps. He’s so confident for no reason at all LMAO

💚 Lowkey want to write a Dr. Love oneshot now because this is really fun and cute

Elliott-

❤️ If you’re feeling down man will preform the absolute worst ad lib poetry

❤️ Silliest lymrics you’ve ever heard

❤️ Dumb dumb dummmmmb

❤️ Very dirty and stupid bad poems about you

❤️ Specifically about his favorite parts of your body

❤️ Or his favorite things you do during sex

❤️ The worse it is, the better as far as he is concerned

❤️ Raunchy dirty filthy

❤️ But like. In the most grade school mother goose style he can manage

❤️ No flowery language here

❤️ Takes off your clothes to expose the parts of you the he’s referring to

❤️ When you do x thing (then tries to make you do x thing)

❤️ Will be proving his point. Period!!!

Alex-

🤎 Physical touch legend

🤎 Wrestles

🤎 Winner gets whatever they want from the loser

🤎 Has a wrestling name and all

🤎 Does the John Cena theme

🤎 His hands end up in all sorts of places that they don’t need to be

🤎 Most wrestlers aren’t grabbing ass 🤨

🤎 Gets you in some really tight, close pins, but somehow you end up winning anyway

🤎 No I didn’t let you win don’t be ridiculous I respect the sport too much to ever—

🤎 He let you win

🤎 You can take your prize now 😌 Whatever you want 😌

🤎 And if his hard on is pressing against you? Well. Maybe he has some ideas about what your prize should be

Shane-

💙 Gets you through the hard stuff first, so once you’re on the mend he’s goofing to the max

💙 KING FLEXER!

💙 Aw babe come on? How can you be so sad when you have these guns to look at?

💙 Runs through a series of absurd poses to show off his muscly farm boy arms

💙 Lays it on really thick about being a stud

💙 “No matter what at the end of the day you have a trophy husband” (even if he’s not married to you. ESPECIALLY if he’s not married to you)

💙 STRIP! TEASE!!

💙 Showing off everything you’re so lucky to have with a big goofy grin on his face

💙 Throwing his clothes across the room and everything

💙 Making the music sounds with his mouth

💙 You HAVE to whistle or hoot at him or clap or something

💙 He demands applause from his audience if he’s not getting some singles at least

Sam-

🩷 Another song and dancer

🩷 This man was born for the stage I fear

🩷 Genuinely and truly putting on a SHOW about it all

🩷 The drama of it. Uh oh, he’s compromised!

🩷 Will end up ‘stuck’ under the couch or table or anywhere else

🩷 Uh oh! I hope nobody takes advantage of me 👀 When I’m so exposed 👀👀 and vulnerable 👀👀👀

🩷 The worst stage acting you’ve ever seen in your life

🩷 Starts stripping in the middle of the living room because he “didn’t see you there!”

🩷 Pretends to be scandalized when you finally succumb to his advances

🩷 What are you doing?! Huh? What do you MEAN I was coming on to you? I always take off all my clothes in the kitchen, that’s ritual

🩷 insists he’s been objectified and taken advantage of

🩷 That kind of turns him on though let’s be so fucking real

Sebastian-

🖤 Okay so we’re going blunt king here

🖤 Two possible options

🖤 Uses it as a way to hard reset the system mid breakdown

🖤 Full crying, upset, whatever, he’s been holding you and trying to calm you down but it’s not working

🖤 “Wanna have sex?”

🖤 DEADPANNNNNN delivery

🖤 It never fails. Tried and true

🖤 Option two?

🖤 This is ONLY if mans is super comfortable in your dynamic

🖤 A classic

🖤 Whips it out

🖤 Thinking about that one tweet of the boyfriend who was in the mood and just put his dick on her shoulder while she was watching tv

🖤 Like that but buried under sixteen levels of irony

🖤 “I know what’ll help” and then he pulls his dick out

🖤 Probably the least likely to actually hit with these methods

🖤 However, he’s maybe the most likely to help improve your mood substantially

🖤 Through sheer presentation if nothing else. Man can deliver, and knows when to hit with the absurd to make it the most impactful

[meanbossart]

Hey! I was thinking of trying to write something for you about DU Drow but after a trying to gather stuff about him via your page I’m struggling to get something substantial for his personality- like I get it mostly (I think?) but it’s hard to put into words (which makes it easier for me) so if it’s not too much to ask; how would you explain DU Drows personality and maybe some of his values? - if you don’t mind! I love your art BTW!

Man, this is a tough ask and I MADE the guy. The fic is definitely the best place to see his personality in action, but it is also 20 chapters long so far - and I'm a fairly reasonable man.

Before I get to any descriptions, there's two important things to note: A) Overwhelmingly, his looks do not match his demeanor. and B) DU drow is extremely hedonistic in practice. He might claim to have certain beliefs or standards but hardly ever practices them.

Anyways, I present to you: The guy, more-or-less summarized to the best of my abilities.

BEHAVIOR: Purposefully standoffish. He wants to be noticed, but he does not want to be bothered. He's a little bit stiff with his body language and mostly makes use of head/neck gestures to assert his sentences and signal his level of interest. On that note, me makes it extremely obvious for the socially-versed individual to tell what he thinks of them - he hardly ever tries to hide if he's disinterested, annoyed, or having a laugh at your expense. He expresses emotion through his face a normal amount, but his default look is eerily bland, and subtle emotions might go unnoticed because of his eye-color and thin brows.

As it is with most people, the more uncomfortable he is with a situation the more stiff and inexpressive he becomes, and vice versa.

SPEECH: DU drow is very much well spoken, and simultaneously very blunt. He abides by most conversational formalities (definitely more formal than you would assume him to be) and basic etiquette. He will greet you and he will say please and thank you even if clearly not meaning it or feeling like you're unworthy of the gesture. Sometimes, he does it just to be patronizing.

With all of that in mind, he has a tendency to use violent turns of phrase and analogies to express himself, this applies to both negative and positive feelings. That being said he's aware of social norma and knows full well when things are or aren't appropriate, even if sometimes he chooses to ignore that and be weird anyway - usually with the purpose of intimidation.

He is the most earnest and sincere with very close friends (quite literally only Astarion and Shadowheart) and rather curt with everyone else unless you catch him in a particularly good mood. He's a little chummier with dwarves and duergar (he finds them amusing and fun to hang out with) and reserves a slight bit more tenderness and kindness for children and mothers, especially if they're elves. He's also fond of animals. He is dismissive of gnomes, goblins, bugbears, half/full orcs and hobgoblins. He despises githyanki and drow. He treats humans fairly respectfully but thinks they are a far lesser race than pretty much all others.

He has a very dark/offensive sense of humor and a tendency to make well crafted, but cruel jokes or quips about sensitive topics. This goes for everybody, including people he's on good terms with.

VALUES: Here's where things get tricky. DU drow is both a hypocrite and a unreliable narrator of his own story, not to mention deeply unfamiliar with his own inner-workings and feelings. Politically, he would be the guy who doesn't vote, doesn't want to pay taxes and dreams of living off the grid, who thinks everybody should pull themselves up by the bootstraps and that it's a dog-eats-dog world. He hates systems of government, authority figures, hierarchical structures and archaic customs. He believes it would a chaotic but functional world if people governed themselves.

In practice, he doesn't stand for anything and gladly overlooks injustices and things that don't align with his supposed values as long as they favor him, or just don't get in his way, and easily makes exceptions for things on a whim. He's indifferent to slavery; unless it's Astarion's. - He thinks humans are a worthless pet-race, except for his dearest and nearest friend, the half-elf Shadowheart. He thinks Half-orcs are intellectually inferior, but he will gladly be chummy with them if they amuse him and make for good-company during a night-out.

INNER WORLD AND INTIMACY: DU drow is extremely unfamiliar with his own emotions and very often comes up empty when he has to justify or explain anything that is based on feeling, while simultaneously operating on impulse and instinct for the vast majority of the time. He is subject to fear, resentment, and insecurity as much as anyone else, but carries a deep shame in acknowledging his own vulnerability at all. He is very intense when it comes to love, however, and shows no reluctance in expressing it through his words and actions towards the people he cares about. He does care for the levels of comfort of those dearest to him though, and doesn't bombard them with it unless the moment is right, or if overwhelmed into doing so. The same applies to physical affection - he's extremely comfortable with it, but cares deeply for respecting the boundaries of his loved ones. When it comes to strangers, he only touches them outside of combat if there is some kind of power-game at play.

A couple of other things that might be of note:

-He likes creature comforts, but is also fine with going without them and won't ever complain about having to live, sleep, or survive in less-than-ideal circumstances as long as he feels in control of the situation. -He can be enticed by valuables and gold because they make the immediate future easier, but he doesn't seek a life of vast riches. -He is not an alcoholic but probably has a binge-drinking problem. -While he is fond and respectful of animals, he has no issues killing them if the situation calls for it. -He pretty much always believes himself to be the most impressive person in the room. -He is not a vain man, but very much likes the way that he looks and to have it be acknowledged by his partner. -He believes faith, religion, and gods to be a waste of time.

[bloodyinkandquill]

Pest x Reader

my friend who loves subspace she also loves pest so i will deliver this to them when i finish, first regrevetator request and it’s pest, based on my research that makes sense the most common regretevator yume is pest followed closely by mach, anyways on with the requests

- How you managed to end up in a relationship with an antisocial, maybe narcissistic beetle was a mystery honestly, but you aren’t complaining

- Pest is very reserved with his affection, it’s not that he doesn’t love you he just doesn’t outwardly show his feelings for the most part, he tries his best to around you but he’s never been a very expressive person so it’s difficult, but he lets you know how he can, like saying it in beetle or on occasion japanese because you (assumedly) don’t know either, if you do he just makes happy beetle noises, they’re not that different then regular beetle noises but you’ve learnt the difference

- Their main way of showing their affection however is tinkering and making things for you, wether it’s something small that they think you would like, or if you mention needing assistance or something with something they make something to assist you, their move language is a mix of gift giving and acts of service, ironic since they usually steal from others not give them things

- Speaking of he is stealing from you, it’s a force of habit, he never takes anything important maybe a shirt or two, little objects and items you own, on a rare occasion a few coins, if you ask he’ll give them back to you, maybe a bit begrudgingly but he will, he just likes having things of yours in his den

- First time you steal or even just borrow something from them they are proud, so happy you’re stealing and you’re just there like ‘it’s a spoon…’ they will teach you to pick pocket, no arguing you’re learning how to steal from people, wether you decide to use his teachings or not is up to you, as long as you know how to he’s happy

- Pest doesn’t really do dates, he doesn’t see a point in them, if you really want to he will but he thinks they’re a waste of time, you love each other isn’t that the only thing that matters? Why do you have to show it by going places and doing things together? If you were to go on a date it would probably be an arcade, steal prizes and play games, he says he doesn’t see the point everything there is just meaningless junk, but you see him eyeing one of those big ass plushies

- They also don’t particularly enjoy kissing, they never initiate kisses unless under very certain circumstances, they don’t necessarily dislike when you kiss them but they don’t like it either, besides their female mandibles would probably poke you since they’re on the edge of their mouth

- Also not a very touchy guy, he’s fine with it but he doesn’t love for it, he’d maybe give you a small touch here or there, out of every touch his favorite is lightly bonking you with his male mandibles, he makes sure they won’t hurt you first though, but if he’s feeling very loving he will run at you like a bull mandibles coming straight for you, so look out for that

- You are the one and only person who’s allowed to try their baking, it is honestly really good, a good portion of the things they bake are apple themed but they can make other things, if you specifically request something they’ll make it assuming it’s not too difficult, you’re the only person who they put time with over money, so if they have to spend 2 hours baking something for you they will, or an evening lounging around with you, they don’t truly mind since it’s for you

- He has some problems, you do your best to comfort him about Folly, that it wasn’t his fault and that she can’t hurt him through his dreams, you also comfort him when he’s feeling self conscious about his wings, it’s a rare occurrence but sometimes he does feel bad and a longing to fly but he can’t since his wings are fused to his body, it sucks but he’s gotten used to it, he still does sometimes wish they weren’t though

- Pest thinks pet names are stupid, why not just call someone by their name? They never use them on you, and they prefers you don’t use them on them either, but secretly they have one pet name for you, it’s in beetle so you never know about it, it doesn’t directly translate outside of beetle anyways, it’s the only time they call you something other then your name

- Dr Retro cares for him so you did have to go through her at some point, she approved of you luckily and now she keeps an eye on you when she can and uses her medical knowledge if you need it, she also lets you pet her so that’s a bonus

yippee!! lunch time, this was fun but a bit difficult to write, nice to have my first regretevator request though! thanks for reading! ps my requests are back open

[shehimin]

Edgaring time!

Tutorial on how to make your own responsive Edgar :D I will try to explain it in really basic terms, like you’ve never touched a puter (which if you’re making this… I’m sure you’ve touched plenty of computers amirite??? EL APLAUSO SEÑOOOREEES).

If you have some experience I tried to highlight the most important things so you won’t have to read everything, this is literally building a website but easier.

I will only show how to make him move like this:

Disclaimer: I’m a yapper.

Choosing an engine First of all you’ll need something that will allow you to display a responsive background, I used LivelyWallpaper since it’s free and open-source (we love open-source).

Choosing an IDE Next is having any IDE to make some silly code! (Unless you can rawdog code… Which would be honestly impressive and you need to slide in my DMs and we will make out) I use Visual Studio!!!

So now that we have those two things we just need to set up the structure we will use.

Project structure

We will now create our project, which I will call “Edgar”, we will include some things inside as follows:

Edgar

img (folder that will contain images) - thumbnail.png (I literally just have a png of his face :]) - [some svgs…]

face.js (script that will make him interactive)

index.html (script that structures his face!)

LivelyInfo,json (script that LivelyWallpaper uses to display your new wallpaper)

style.css (script we will use to paint him!)

All of those scripts are just literally like a “.txt” file but instead of “.txt” we use “.js”, “.html”, etc… You know? We just write stuff and tell the puter it’s in “.{language}”, nothing fancy.

index.html

Basically the way you build his silly little face! Here’s the code:

<!doctype html> <html>     <head>         <meta charset="utf-8">         <title>Face!</title>         <link rel = "stylesheet" type = "text/css" href = "style.css">     </head>     <body>         <div class="area">             <div class="face">                 <div class="eyes">                     <div class="eyeR"></div>                     <div class="eyeL"></div>                 </div>                 <div class="mouth"></div>             </div>         </div>         <script src="face.js"></script>     </body> </html>

Ok so now some of you will be thinking “Why would you use eyeR and eyeL? Just use eye!“ and you’d be right but I’m a dummy who couldn’t handle making two different instances of the same object and altering it… It’s scary but if you can do it, please please please teach me ;0;!!!

Area comes in handy to the caress function we will implement in the next module (script)! It encapsulates face.

Face just contains the elements inside, trust me it made sense but i can’t remember why…

Eyes contains each different eye, probably here because I wanted to reuse code and it did not work out and when I kept going I was too scared to restructure it.

EyeR/EyeL are the eyes! We will paint them in the “.css”.

Mouth, like the eyeR/eyeL, will be used in the “.css”.

face.js

Here I will only show how to make it so he feels you mouse on top of him! Too ashamed of how I coded the kisses… Believe me, it’s not pretty at all and so sooo repetitive…

// ######################### // ##      CONSTANTS      ## // ######################### const area = document.querySelector('.area'); const face = document.querySelector('.face'); const mouth = document.querySelector('.mouth'); const eyeL = document.querySelector('.eyeL'); const eyeR = document.querySelector('.eyeR'); // ######################### // ##     CARESS HIM      ## // ######################### // When the mouse enters the area the face will follow the mouse area.addEventListener('mousemove', (event) => {     const rect = area.getBoundingClientRect();     const x = event.clientX - rect.left;     const y = event.clientY - rect.top;     face.style.left = `${x}px`;     face.style.top = `${y}px`; }); // When the mouse leaves the area the face will return to the original position area.addEventListener('mouseout', () => {     face.style.left = '50%';     face.style.top = '50%'; });

God bless my past self for explaining it so well, but tbf it’s really simple,,

style.css

body {     padding: 0;     margin: 0;     background: #c9c368;     overflow: hidden; } .area {     width: 55vh;     height: 55vh;     position: absolute;     top: 50%;     left: 50%;     transform: translate(-50%,-50%);     background: transparent;     display: flex; } .face {     width: 55vh;     height: 55vh;     position: absolute;     top: 50%;     left: 50%;     transform: translate(-50%,-50%);     background: transparent;     display: flex;     justify-content: center;     align-items: center;     transition: 0.5s ease-out; } .mouth {     width: 75vh;     height: 70vh;     position: absolute;     bottom: 5vh;     background: transparent;     border-radius: 100%;     border: 1vh solid #000;     border-color: transparent transparent black transparent;     pointer-events: none;     animation: mouth-sad 3s 420s  forwards step-end; } .face:hover .mouth {     animation: mouth-happy 0.5s forwards; } .eyes {     position: relative;     bottom: 27%;     display: flex;   } .eyes .eyeR {     position: relative;     width: 13vh;     height: 13vh;     display: block;     background: black;     margin-right: 11vh;     border-radius: 50%;     transition: 1s ease } .face:hover .eyeR {     transform: translateY(10vh);      border-radius: 20px 100% 20px 100%; } .eyes .eyeL {     position: relative;     width: 13vh;     height: 13vh;     display: block;     background: black;     margin-left: 11vh;     border-radius: 50%;     transition: 1s ease; } .face:hover .eyeL {     transform: translateY(10vh);     border-radius: 100% 20px 100% 20px; } @keyframes mouth-happy {     0% {         background-color: transparent;         height: 70vh;         width: 75vh;     }     100% {         border-radius: 0 0 25% 25%;         transform: translateY(-10vh);     } } @keyframes mouth-sad {     12.5%{         height: 35vh;         width: 67vh;     }     25% {         height: 10vh;         width: 60vh;     }     37.5% {         width: 53vh;         border-radius: 0%;         border-bottom-color: black;     }     50% {         width: 60vh;         height: 10vh;         transform: translateY(11vh);         border-radius: 100%;         border-color: black transparent transparent transparent;     }     62.5% {         width: 64vh;         height: 20vh;         transform: translateY(21vh);     }     75% {         width: 69vh;         height: 40vh;         transform: translateY(41vh);     }     87.5% {         width: 75vh;         height: 70vh;         transform: translateY(71vh);     }     100% {         width: 77vh;         height: 90vh;         border-color: black transparent transparent transparent;         transform: translateY(91vh);     } }

I didn’t show it but this also makes it so if you don’t pay attention to him he will get sad (mouth-sad, tried to make it as accurate to the movie as possible, that’s why it’s choppy!)

The .hover is what makes him go like a creature when you hover over him, if you want to change it just… Change it! If you’d rather him always have the same expression, delete it!

Anyway, lots of easy stuff, lots of code that I didn’t reuse and I probably should’ve (the eyes!!! Can someone please tell me a way I can just… Mirror the other or something…? There must be a way!!!) So now this is when we do a thinking exercise in which you think about me as like someone who is kind of dumb and take some pity on me.

LivelyInfo.json

{   "AppVersion": "1.0.0.0",   "Title": "Edgar",   "Thumbnail": "img/thumbnail.png",   "Preview": "thumbnail.png",   "Desc": "It's me!.",   "Author": "Champagne?",   "License": "",   "Type": 1,   "FileName": "index.html" }

Easy stuff!!! 

Conclusion

This could've been a project on git but i'm not ready and we're already finished. I'm curious about how this will be seen on mobile and PC,,, i'm not one to post here.

Sorry if I rambled too much or if i didn't explain something good enough! If you have any doubts please don't hesitate to ask.

And if you add any functionality to my code or see improvements please please please tell me, or make your own post!

[loveless-arobee]

Being Loveless

Because there’s a lot of demonisation going around still and people really gotta learn to chill down about the way other people describe their emotions.

I identify as loveless as both a personal identity, as well as a somewhat political (? For lack of a better word rn) one on top of it. I’ll explain what I mean by both.

This is only my personal experience, not every loveless person feels the same! If any other loveless person wants to share their experience in the notes, feel free to do so! I enjoy hearing about other people :)

Long post incoming. I tried to keep on track but my mind is messy whenever I’m writing something that’s not a book haha.

So, why I personally identify as loveless is actually the most obvious reason: I don’t really feel anything I’d label as "love". This ties into my low empathy, I think, and my inability to really understand my own emotions, too (alexithymia) (though I see both of that as the same thing, really; to me it just feels like my own low empathy extends to myself, too, not just other people. (But that’s just me, ig))

I don’t really feel like the word love accurately describes any of my feelings, there’s always better phrases to describe what I actually mean. "Love" is a muddy word that can mean almost anything; it just doesn’t make any sense to me. I prefer to use precise language. Like, "I enjoy your company/I like spending time with you", "You’re my favourite person", and "I’d die for you" etc., all carry so much more meaning to me than just a simple "I love you"; because that could mean all of the above or none of it.

For me, it’s just an inaccurate word that doesn’t serve what I want to say at all, almost all of the time. It either can mean everything or it’s just some thing people say, so what am I supposed to expect when someone says they love me? And what do people expect from me when I say I love them?

People also try to give me shit then for "not loving my pets"; as if my dogs and cat and mice would care how I label my emotions! I cuddle them when they want to, give them food and water and entertain them, get them to the vet when they need it, let the one mouse who likes it crawl all over my body, and make sure they live the best life I can offer them. Because I care for them! I chose to get pets; so it’s my responsibility to make sure they are healthy and happy, even when they piss me off from time to time. That’s a lot more than what I see other pet owners do that repeat again and again how much they "love their pets" but that’s a whole other can of worms I don’t want to open here.

The point is: why do my emotions mean so much more than my actions? What, because I don’t have the good and right emotions behind something, my actions are automatically bad? Because you love your pets your obvious abuse of them doesn’t matter, because you just mean well, and you feel the good and right emotions?

Which ties into why I think being loveless is also an at least somewhat "political" identity. At least in the culture I grew up in (European, but I’m very interested in people’s experiences outside of western culture!), love can be and is used to excuse all kinds of abuse and harmful actions.

We can see that a lot in parental abuse; children get told over and over again that their parents just mean well, that they didn’t mean to harm them, that they love them and isn’t that so much more important than the harm they’re doing? And when it gets "to far" (all abuse is to far), they turn and say well, they didn’t really love you if they did those things!

And isn’t it just so romantic that they loved their partner for so long before and stalked them and didn’t take no for an answer and pressured them until they finally agreed? So much love!

And so much more examples.

But of course when I point that out, people are going to hound me with stuff like "well if they’d really love them they wouldn’t do that" or some other variation of "that’s not real love, then!"

But that is just ignoring all the harm that can be and actively is done in the name of love. It is ignoring how love is used far to often to cover up suffering and harm by keeping it on that pedestal of can do no harm, only good. And that is bad. That is very bad.

Love is an emotion just like every other. It can cause both harm and good; and acting like people who love you are incapable of harming you is setting yourself up for abuse. And acting like loving someone means you could never harm or hurt them is making you ignorant to all the hurt you might be causing.

Being loveless, on a political level, means taking "love" down from that pedestal. It is about decentering love, and it’s about freeing myself from the societal expectations put on everyone. It’s about rejecting other people’s reading of my emotions.

And I honestly do not trust people who act like you can only care for someone and want to help them if you love them (or have empathy for them!)

Because basing your support on your own emotions for a person—or a group of people—will often times lead to you being a horrible ally. Because if that person, or some people from that group, do something you don’t approve of, or have an experience you can’t relate to, emotionally, do they not deserve your support anymore?

And why is my support worth less simply because I can’t feel other peoples’ feelings, or even fully understand them for the most part?

Of course, I’m not saying that labelling your own feelings as love is bad in general. But you shouldn’t act like loving someone absolves you fully from ever doing any harm to them, just because you obviously meant well (and they should be thankful you were even trying to help them!)

And you shouldn’t push your definition of emotions onto other people, or act like people with different experiences than yours are inherently evil. I am loveless, and I don’t care for love at all. If that makes you uncomfortable, if that makes you feel attacked, that is your problem, not mine. Take it out with yourself.

Love is not necessary to make a good human. And love can make some people absolutely horrid humans, too! Feelings are feelings and have absolutely nothing to do with one’s morals. Please stop acting like it does.

Thank you for reading this.

Some pet pics before someone asks:

(The last mouse does also have a friend, don’t worry. I would never keep a mouse alone! His friend is just asleep in their house rn and I don’t have a photo of them both. I found him sitting behind a house like this just now.)

[strawberryblue-blog]

Baby blue love —Mason Mount

warning: none

words: +2.5k

summary: being there for Mason at his most difficult time

#sexynote: English is not my first language, maybe there are mistakes.

An exhausted sigh escaped the young man's lips as you walked through the house carrying the laundry basket. From behind you saw his defeated back as his hands covered his face in disappointment.

"Is everything okay?" you asked putting the clothes in the washing machine. Mason sighed again.

"Mason" you called out to him when he didn't respond. From his spot, Mason turned his face slightly to look at you.

His eyes were glazed over and his smile drooped.

He had been like this for a few days, depressed and sad about his departure from the club. But even though you tried to cheer him up, Mason ended up ignoring you and regretting his decisions.

"Mason..." you repeated again as you sat down next to him, your hand stroking his back gently.

"Everyone hates me" he whispered in anguish.

In front of his eyes was his instagram profile, precisely the last video he had posted only a day ago.

"It's not true" you denied waving your hand to comfort him.

"Yes they do, just watch what they say" he noted. A gasp came out of his mouth, he was frustrated, sad and disappointed. "Not even the official confirmation came out and everyone already knows, they hate me."

Yes, it was hard what he was going through and you understood it perfectly.

At least a month ago the rumor that Mason would be leaving Chelsea had been much talked about by fans of the club or those close to it, especially because there was a supposed proposal from Manchester United.

After 18 years at the club of his beginnings, Mason Mount would no longer be a player in blue and it was driving him crazy.

"Stop that" you grumbled when he kept scrolling down the publication, taking his phone out of his hands to turn it off. Your boyfriend snorted stretching his body out on the couch.

Raw silence broached them. Mason wasn't saying a word from that point on and you were leaving him, as you didn't want to pressure him to talk let alone make him feel like he had to explain himself.

"You hate me, don't you?" he asked dejectedly. The question caught you off guard for a moment.

"No," you muttered. "Why would I, Mason?"

"Because I ruined everything."

"That's not true," you denied. You knew perfectly well what this conversation was coming to and you were ready to face it. "For wanting to move on?" you asked. "For wanting to have another chance?"

He lifted his shoulders expressionlessly. You weren't going to lie, the news that Mason would be leaving had affected you more than you thought it would. You had always been a Chelsea fan, thanks to your father, a huge Blues fan. And on one of your many visits to the stadium, you had met Mason at Stamford Bridge when you had volunteered to work one afternoon. The thought of not going to support him at the stadium anymore, not seeing him celebrate with his teammates and family, seeing him ready to play before every game. Nostalgia ran through your mind as you thought of him and wanted to support him every step of the way.

"It's okay, honey" you took him in your arms. Mason sobbed as he felt your warm embrace. "You haven't done anything wrong" you said.

"I've been an idiot these days, I don't understand how you're still here" he said. You could feel the pain in his body, in his voice, in his eyes, in his mood.

Mason had always been a laughing boy, who laughed at everything and cheered everyone up in the worst moments but now he was a kid who had to make an important decision that would be a big step for his career. For his future. And of course you would accompany him, you would be by his side no matter what his decision was.

"Do you think it's okay what I'm doing?" he questioned taking your hands. You had not had this conversation since it had all started, as Mason was a bit shocked and somewhat distant.

"It is. It's the right thing to do because you deserve it" you muttered. "You deserve a team that will take advantage of your talent, respect you and help you grow. You deserve to play in the big leagues and succeed" you said sincerely.

And it hurt. It hurt to see your great love leave his lifelong team, the team that saw him grow and succeed. It hurt to know that he would no longer wear the blue jersey and that you would not go to the game with his jersey to cheer him on. But more than anyone else in the world you wanted Mason to move on and succeed because you knew he was a great player. Young and talented.

His hands grabbed your waist, pulling you close to him to place a soft kiss on your lips. Mason wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you to his chest.

He knew how much you supported him no matter what. Even though he was going to the opposing team or moving out of town. Because you had always supported him since you had known each other, in his bad times and good times, when he needed you and when you were there for him.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, baby" he whispered nuzzling his nose with yours tenderly.

"I love you, Mason."

"Enough to wear a red t-shirt with my name on it?" he asked teasingly.

"No!" you squealed laughing. "You know i hate the color red."

Mason laughed nodding.

"But you don't hate it when I'm wearing it, do you?" he teased again with an amused expression. His lips touched yours delicately as a gasp escaped them as you felt Mason's hands take you from your waist until you sat on his lap.

"Nothing will ever change the love I feel for you, ever since the day I saw you in the rain at Stamford Bridge" he whispered through his smile. "From that day I knew I would love you forever, my baby blue love."

I'm late i know but I'm still not over Mason being gone 😭😭 I miss him so much 💔