#To be clear I really didn’t need the love triangle coming back

[twentytwothings]

Thoughts on the Steve-Nancy-Jonathan love triangle of season 4

There are two main problems, in my view, with the way the love triangle is set up. The first is this:

Jonathan should have told Nancy the truth, and he should have done it right off the bat, either at the start of the season or even shortly before it.

The thing is, the root conflict between Jonathan and Nancy makes sense. Nancy wants to go to a different college than Jonathan does, one too far away from his family for him to be able to support them the way he wants to. It makes sense he doesn’t want to follow her to Emerson, and it makes sense he doesn’t want her to follow him to his preferred college by giving up on her own dreams either. But Nancy would understand the weight of this as well—she cares about her education and her future.

If Jonathan tells Nancy his reservations, maybe Nancy’s immediate response is, fine, I’ll come with you instead, but on the strength of both her own and Jonathan’s wish for her to follow her own path in life, I think they could both spend season 4 just… thinking. They have by now spent over half a year in a long distance relationship—are they prepared to continue like this through all those years of college? What about after? Who knows what the situation might look like by then, what new concerns might keep them apart? How much of their lives are they willing to dedicate to uncertainty and distance?

We saw in season 3 that their relationship, while rooted in love and respect, is hardly some perfect cloudless fantasy life. Now, building on this, let’s ask the next question: how much are they willing to sacrifice to keep it?

This would give Nancy something real to think through over the course of the season about her relationship with Jonathan and what she’s willing to give up for it. It’s something that requires looking within herself and drawing a conclusion—rather than just being left in the dark to be kind of annoyed and unsure of where she stands with him. As for Jonathan, it avoids making him the cause of the problem, and gives one of the few things he’s got going on this season more weight than a simple lack-of-communication plot.

The likeliest reasons I can think of as to why the showrunners didn’t go this path to begin with would be either 1) because they didn’t think the “separate colleges” problem would be big enough to matter if Jonathan actually said anything about it, in which case Jonathan just looks stupid, or 2) because if this is what breaks Nancy and Jonathan apart, then it wasn’t really an issue of incompatibility between them but just life getting in the way, which could in turn make an endgame Nancy/Steve pairing feel like just a consolation prize to Nancy when she couldn’t be with the guy she really wanted.

I can understand the second one, but I don’t agree with it. People aren’t made for one specific other person; they find someone out of many possible someones and then build a life with them.

Nancy chose Jonathan over Steve once before, that’s true—but they are all three different people now, particularly Steve, and isn’t that the whole thing making her reconsider her relationship with him to begin with? I don’t think you need to demonstrate that Nancy and Jonathan could never have worked out under any circumstances in order to allow Nancy to have an equally worthy, or better, relationship with Steve.

This is not to say that Jonathan and Nancy can’t come out of this still together; in fact, I think this version of events will make an eventual reconciliation all the stronger. If, at the end of the day, they find that yes, they are willing to do what it takes to stay together, whether that means giving up on their individual plans for the future or accepting years of staying in a long-distance relationship or something other than that again, it would feel like their relationship has survived a real trial-by-fire and come out stronger for it. It would, when all is said and done at the end of the final season, give the season 4 strain in their relationship purpose, as it would lead to a real affirmation of the strength of their commitment to one another. But as it stands in canon—assuming Nancy and Jonathan remain together in the end, won’t this little detour of theirs feel kind of weird? What does it provide their relationship that their disagreement in season 3 did not?

In season 4 as it is, Nancy lacks agency, and Jonathan is unreliable. The whole situation feels insubstantial, made up as an excuse for more relationship drama. But it didn’t need to be that way.

There is real weight to Jonathan’s dilemma. Instead of making this another flimsy story about lack of communication breaking a relationship apart—just take the issue at hand seriously.

The second main problem is that Steve and Nancy should have spent the season becoming friends more than anything.

The thing about Steve and Nancy’s dynamic is that it has always been defined by romance. We meet them when they’re already pretty much together, and it’s clear there was no real “just friends” period before that point—just a steadily building flirtation. When they break up in season 2, that also marks the end of their interactions altogether, except for a line or two taking place in a larger group dynamic at the end of season 3. Then season 4 puts them together again and they immediately return to flirting.

The problem here is that their relationship lacks a real sense of foundation. What lies beneath the romance, the dating aspect? I don’t know. I’m not sure they do either. In their time together, they have always adhered to it—and Nancy in particular spent season 2 seeming to be mostly going through the motions of it more than anything. What do they look like together without the societal framework of a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship to fall back on?

Additionally, Nancy and Steve have some real unresolved issues to work through. The show seems to have mostly decided the problem was just that Steve had a lot of growing left to do back when they were dating and leaves it at that, but the reality of their time together and how it impacted both of them could easily be delved into more deeply than that. Talking about it—offering each their perspectives, both what they thought then and how those thoughts have changed by now—would be a compelling way to show the two characters feeling their way back to something like solid ground with one another after so long adrift.

This—hashing out what went wrong in their old relationship—would be happening simultaneously as Nancy is contemplating her current one with Jonathan, pushing her to consider the two in relation to one another. Any hints of Nancy and Steve’s relationship blossoming back up come near the end of the season, when they’ve had time to settle back into being on good terms with each other, and it feels like something they unearth or build anew rather than them just kind of picking back up where they left off.

This also has the benefit of giving them more to do—more of a chance to grow, or to show how they’ve grown—than either of them really had this season otherwise.

Steve holds no speech about how it has “always been you”; he truly moved on in season 3, like he said, even if season 4 sees old feelings coming back to him. They might still talk about whether they might have made it as a couple as the people they are now, and this may or may not take the form of a confession. Eddie doesn’t make any claims about unambiguous signs of true love on Nancy’s part. Possibly nothing is ever stated explicitly—to avoid forcing the issue to come to a point, instead allowing them to potentially sink back into friendship at the end of the day—but there is a sense that an old door, or perhaps just a window, has been reopened.

Narratively, this will strengthen any potential endgame Nancy/Steve relationship, because it will give their difficulties in season 2 and time apart in season 3 greater impact. Their breakup mattered, and it defines their relationship even now, as they struggle to work through it. Their time apart mattered, and it changed how they feel about one another and the places from which they approach each other. It will also narratively strengthen an endgame where they don’t end up together, because their friendship will remain regardless now that it’s no longer dependent upon romance to exist; no matter what happens in the end, an important relationship was repaired and remains repaired, so the time spent developing it won’t feel wasted even if no romance ultimately comes of it.

Comparing canon—what are we left with if Nancy and Steve don’t end up together? What would be the point of it all? Steve-and-Nancy live and die by their romance, and so does the strength of their season 4 screentime together.

In this new version of the story, things don’t look too dissimilar to canon by the end of the season. Like before, Nancy has come to view Steve in a new light. Like before, Jonathan and Nancy still haven’t worked out their problems. Like before, all their relationships face an uncertain future. The destination remains the same; it’s only that the path there has been slightly altered.

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle from Hell (5)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Following the events of PART FOUR, you all begin to pick up the pieces and start to heal.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: kissing, messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing/name calling; arguments; crying; hurt/comfort; angst; miscommunication; jealousy; happy ending; fluff

A/N: We have made it to the final part of our story. I'm honestly sad to see it end- but it's not *really* over, is it? Again, everyone who has commented and reblogged- you are my muse. It was your kind words who kept me motivated. Thank you so much. You all are so amazing. Please, please, please don't hesitate to send me questions or requests- do you want to see more post-story drabbles, more angsty flashbacks, headcannons? Let me know and I will do my best to deliver. My inbox is open for requests.

Alternative ending coming soon!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Because Steve crashed at his parent’s house, he hadn’t been home to see that Eddie never came back last night. Instead, he woke up in his childhood bedroom after a night of tossing and turning. He wanted to call you- he picked up the phone and hung it up so many times last night. He knew you probably wouldn’t appreciate it, so he resolved to wait until morning. He hardly slept. 

With tear stained cheeks, Steve knew he needed to get up and shower. After he was dressed for the day, he sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the wall. He didn’t know what to do, and he didn’t want to go home yet. He couldn’t face Eddie. He was so embarrassed and ashamed. 

He needed to take a walk to clear his head. He ended up deciding to get coffee. There was a coffee place he walked to and after that, with 2 coffees and a bag of bagels in hand. He decided to stop by your apartment. You’d have coffee and bagels and talk this out. If you would let him, it would be his do over to make up for last night. 

He walked up to your apartment two steps at a time balancing the coffee tray carefully with both hands to not spill. He lets himself take a moment. He smooths out the front of his jacket. And tousled his hair to look a little more presentable. He hopes you don’t slam the door in his face when he knocks. He stands up straighter when he hears the door unlock.

You open the door, but not all the way. You poke your head out from behind the partially open door. You’re still in your pajamas. A very old t-shirt that Steve has seen you in a million times before and flannel pajama pants- you look your best like this, Steve thinks. His brows furrowed in confusion when you step out onto the porch with a sweatshirt and don’t invite him in. 

“I got you a coffee,” he offers, “a peace offering for last night.”

. I was being an asshole.” 

“Listen, Steve..,” you begin. You cross your arms over your chest and look down at your feet. “I don’t know how to say this… Now isn’t the right time…”

“I’m sorry, I just thought we could talk in person,” he explains, “I just wanted to- you know, apologize in person.” 

“I get it.”

“I- I just, look,” he says gathering his thoughts, “I didn’t handle any of this right- at all. I’m never going to be able to forgive myself for taking this long to realize my feelings, but…”

“Steve. Stop- listen,” you say anxiously, tugging at the sleeves of your sweatshirt. “Before you go on, I need to tell you…”

“What is it?”

“Eddie stayed over last night.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“Oh…”

“Steve-”

“He’s still here, isn’t he?” Steve finally catches on. You hang your head, unable to look him in the eye. He blinks back the threat of tears. “Okay, um,” he clears his throat. “I’ll, uh, get out of here.”

“Steve- wait…”

“No, no it’s okay, really,” he tries to insist, trying his best to not break his cool. “Uh, anyways- take the coffee and stuff, anyways… I gotta go anyway.” 

He’s down the stairs and down the block before you can stop him. You slip back inside. You leave the coffee and the paper bag on the table. You couldn’t touch them. You take a seat at the kitchen table, staring at them. Eddie was still asleep, easily slept through Steve’s knocking. It’s a few minutes of solitude, just lost in thought, before the front door opens with a whoosh. 

“I’m surprised you’re up,” Robin marvels, kicking off her shoes. She hangs up her jacket, she’s wearing her same clothes as yesterday. You offer her a knowing smile. 

“Yeah,” you agree. “You just missed Steve.”

“What does that mean?” she asked hesitantly. “Did you and Steve-”

“Nope,” you say, realizing now what that sounded like. You shake your head- you have so much to fill her in on. “Eddie’s here- and Steve showed up with coffee and bagel for me.” 

“Wait. Wait. Wait,” she hurries over and takes the seat across from you- taking one of the coffees. “You slept with Eddie?”

“Eddie and I went to Lover’s Lake after the game-”

“Ew! Did you do it in the van?” Robin gasps. 

“No!” You say embarrassed, “We were just there, and Steve followed us. He started banging on the side of the van and scared the shit out of me.”

“What did he say?”

“Get your fucking hands off my girl.” You watch Robin’s jaw drop. 

“No, he didn’t!”

“He did! And he called me ‘baby.’” 

“What happened after that?”

“Well, Eddie drove me home and I invited him to stay. It wasn’t like that at first. I just- you weren’t home and I didn’t want to be alone so I asked him to stay with me.” 

“Sounds like it was that from the beginning,” Robin teases. “And Steve came here this morning to apologize and win you over and you had to tell him you slept with Eddie.”

“Pretty much,” you nod. “He’s still here.”

“Eddie’s still here?”

“Yeah, he’s asleep.” 

“Holy shit, dude.”

“I know!”

“Explains that huge hickey,” she jokes and you swat her arm. “Was he.. Was he good?”

Your eyes widen, “Robin!”

“I don’t know what to ask!” She holds her arms up in surrender. “So are you and Eddie, like together?”

“We didn’t really talk about that yet.” 

“He’s been in love with you since he was like 17,” Robin points out. “You think he’s going to not want to be with you?”

“No- it’s just, it’s all happened so fast. I just don’t want to ruin anything.” 

“I’m gonna call Steve,” Robin says, “I want to check on him.” You nod in agreement. 

“Yeah, that would be good,” you agree. 

The door creaks open when you slip back into your bedroom. In your absence, Eddie has starfished out on his stomach and has taken up the whole mattress. In just his boxers, he snores very softly as the light from the window is starting to beam in through the panels of your blinds. You walk over to the side of the bed, crouching down to be eye level. You gently stir him awake. 

Eddie can’t put into words how incredible a feeling it is that you are the first thing he sees when he wakes up. He smiles lazily with his face squished against the pillows. He reaches out and beckons for you to join him back in bed. He scoots over so you can have space to slide in next to him. The messy bed and the cozy blankets are so inviting, it would be just enough to help you forget about what’s waiting for you outside this little sanctuary. 

“Come on,” he pouts, and you can’t help but concede. He pulls you into him, spooning you. He pulls the blankets over the two of you. You turn to face him, but he keeps his arm slung over your waist. 

“Steve was just here,” you whisper. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, concerned. The news of Steve’s visit wakes him up. You nod. 

“Yes, it was just a hard conversation,” you volunteer. “He knows you stayed here last night.” 

“How’d he take that?” Eddie asks.

“Um, I could tell he felt hurt,” you admit, “he brought me breakfast; wanted to apologize and try it over with me… I told him you were here, and he accepted it. He was clearly upset, but he didn’t take it out on me. He, um, looked devastated. But he just left after I told him.” 

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie asks, sounding shy and suddenly unsure of himself. 

“Of course,” you say encouragingly. 

“What did last night mean? You know, like- where do we stand?” Eddie isn’t sure if he even wants to know the answer. He’s so worried you’re going to reject him- tell him last night was a mistake. He’s bracing himself for the heartache of losing you.

You trace your hand gently over the side of his face, helping move his hair away from his eyes. Is it even still a question? You can’t help but smile. It all makes sense.

“I love you, Eds,” you confess and it feels like the weight of the world lifts off his shoulders. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see that,” you apologize, but he’s too wrapped up, he doesn’t even care. He pulls you in for a kiss, slow and passionate. Everything feels right- finally. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips. 

Your senior year (Eddie’s second), Eddie finally convinced you to sneak out on a Tuesday night and come see Corroded Coffin play at The Hideout. Your parents would kill you if they knew you were at a bar forty-five minutes away past eleven on a school night to see some boy with long hair and tattoos play in his metal band. They wouldn’t care if you insisted he was just a friend.  Thankfully, this is something they will never find out. 

Eddie felt on top of the world that night. He played better than he ever has, because you were there to impress. He could watch you, as you sat comfortable at a table all to yourself, singing along to songs you had no idea where even about you. You cheered and clapped at the end of every song- not caring if you were the only one in the room to acknowledge them. 

“Are you gonna ask her out tonight?” Jeff asks, covering his microphone between songs. 

“I don’t know- maybe. Shut up,” Eddie flushes, petrified you would hear. You hadn’t- you were completely oblivious to the way you made him feel. 

“If you don’t, I will!” Gareth whisper-shouts over his drum set. He laughs when Eddie turns around and flips him off. When he turns back around, you lamely throw him two thumbs up and grin widely. He mouths “Dweeb” to you across the bar and you stick your tongue out at him. 

Eddie did attempt to ask you out that night. Unfortunately, he was so nervous when he did it, you didn’t realize he had meant for it to be a date. He still cringes at how he ended up paying for Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Max to play mini golf and how shocked he was when they ended up tagging along. When he thought it couldn’t have gotten worse, the rest of Hellfire showed up as well. Since when did he have this many friends? He remembered thinking. 

Robin calls Steve a few times before she’s able to get through. She must have caught him right as he was getting home. 

“Yeah?” He sounds irritated. 

“Wow,” she says with a tisk. “Rude much?” She hears him take a breath. 

“I’m sorry, long day,” he mumbles. 

“It’s like 9:30,” Robin muses and he scoffs. 

“So you know?” He asks. 

“I know.” 

“I’m a fucking douchebag!” Steve exclaims, upset with himself still- clearly. “I can’t blame her for wanting nothing to do with me.” 

“You’re her oldest friend, Steve,” Robin points out, “She didn’t say she wanted nothing to do with you. She and everyone else I’m sure just everything to go back to normal.” 

“Normal except she’s with Eddie and I have to be around that everyday.” 

“Like how she was with you, for I don’t know- years! You’re being hypocritical. Don’t you think?” 

“Did she say that she and Eddie are together?”

“Not explicitly,” she says hesitantly, “Come on, Steve. You gotta let it go.” 

Steve flops down onto the couch and groans. He knows he’s being hypocritical- he knows he isn’t being fair. It doesn’t make the pain hurt any less. Something he couldn’t shake tugs at the back of his mind. You didn’t tell him you and Eddie were together, just that he stayed over. That doesn’t mean that you’re necessarily together. He knows he’s fooling himself. It’s so hard to just let it go. 

“The whole thing is way too close to home,” Robin muses, “maybe expand your dating pool to outside your immediate friend group?”

“I just need to actually hear her say it,” Steve says, but in agreement with Robin. “I just won’t be able to let it go until I actually hear it from her that she has no feelings for me.” 

“You’re a glutton for punishment,” Robin points out and he knows she’s right. “You need to figure out yourself. Do you actually love her? Or was it the idea of living her that you got so wrapped up in?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“There’s a difference. Were you actually in love with your best friend, or were you just in love with the idea of having someone you love who knows you like a best friend? Like you’ve known her for so long, and you’ve never thought of her as more than a friend until very recently? It might make sense you were wrapped up in the idea of it all- than actually falling in love with her. Does that make sense?” She takes a long pause. “The romanticism of it all, being wrapped up in that- you know?”

“Maybe,” he concedes. “It would’ve been really great.” 

“It would’ve,” Robin agrees. “But it wasn’t meant to be.” 

“No?” 

“No.” 

When Eddie gets back to the apartment later, he doesn’t know what to expect. He doesn’t know if  Steve will take a swing at him, if he’ll yell, or if he will even be there. He doesn’t know what to anticipate Steve’s reaction to be. 

Surprised, Steve is sitting in their living room… calm. He looks solemn. He’s sitting on the same chair he sat the day of the huge fight. He’s staring at the spot where Nancy sat, and then his eyes move over to where you were. Eddie clears his throat to make himself known. Steve looks up like he’s been snapped out of a trance. 

“I’m sorry, man,” Steve says, immediately. “I really fucked that up.” 

“I don’t know- I get it,” Eddie sympathizes. “The whole situation is fucked.” 

“Yeah, totally.” 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Steve drags his hands across his face. Eddie can tell he hardly slept. He looks exhausted. “I will get over it, I’m sure. I just need a little time to get my shit together. Get over myself, you know?” He jokes in a self-deprecating manner. Eddie offers a sympathetic smile, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. They both know they’ll be fine in time. 

The next morning, you’re at their apartment door first thing with coffee in hand. 

“Do-over?” You ask with a tilt of your head when Steve opens the door. 

“Do-over,” he offers a half smile, taking one of the to-go cups from your hand. 

“Eddie’s left for work already?” You guess and he nods. You stand in the door frame, face to face in a few long moments of silence.

“I really miss my best friend,” you say finally.

“Do you still even want to be friends after all of this?” Steve asks, stepping aside so you can come in.

“Steve,” you say with a deep breath. “I always want you to be in my life. You are my oldest friend and I hate that everything has blown up the way it has. I know we can’t go back to the way everything was before. We can move past this, together, can’t we?” 

“I really missed you too,” he admits. “I talked to Robin- I think she was right about a lot of things. You and Eddie- you guys are my best friends. I can’t stand in the way of you too. I think like how I was so hung up on Nancy- I was idealizing her; remembering just the good parts. I know I would’ve been so happy to end up with you. But I think I was more in love with an idea.”

“I get that. I think I’m guilty of that myself,” you chuckle, thinking back to the many years you held Steve up on a pedestal. He smiles back at you- a wide, all encompassing Steve Harrington smile. You had him back. “So, we’re going to be okay?” you ask, a smile creeping onto your lips. 

“We’re okay,” he reaffirms. 

A few months later, following the truce with Steve, everyone is piled into Steve and Eddie’s living room. A movie is playing you’ve all long since forgotten about. Nancy and Jonathan sit in the love seat, his arm around her as they watch amused as Steve and Robin argue- both of them standing on opposite ends of the coffee table as they debate the logistics of whether or not it’s pronounced “Duh-MEE” or “Dem-EE” Moore. Neither one of them plans to back down anytime soon. 

Vicky watches from her seat in the recliner like a tennis match, her eyes bouncing between her girlfriend and Steve- enough to give herself whiplash. This was not how she expected her first movie night with Robin’s friends to go- but what else would she expect besides utter chaos. 

“I thought something was gonna be catching on fire,” Eddie whispers in your ear. “This is boring,” he says in reference to the movie. 

His arms sit loosely around your waist as you sit on his lap. Your legs lay across his lap, resting your head on his shoulder as you sit together in the chair opposite Vicky. You can’t help but laugh at his commentary. 

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen, hun,” you say with a smile, offering condolences for his disappointment in the movie. 

“You’re a moron if you think it’s Dem-EE,” Robin shouts, losing her patience with each passing second. “Everyone knows it’s Duh-MEE!”

“Robin- I swear to god! It’s Dem-EE- it would be spelled differently if it was Duh-MEE,” Steve argues. 

“It’s French!” Robin yells, exasperated, ready to pull out her hair. She couldn’t believe that he’s still pushing this issue. 

Eddie runs his hand up and down your leg as he tries to act remotely interested in the movie. He knows you like it, so he’s trying his hardest to pay attention despite the distractions- Robin & Steve’s antics sure, but more so, sitting so close to you. He can smell your shampoo and your skin is so smooth when he touches it. It’s hard to not be consumed but the sensation. He squeezes your hip, and kisses your temple. 

Eddie loves the simple touches. It’s the things he thought about for so long. It’s so easy. The things he always wanted to say to you, everything he wanted to do are just habitual now. He can grab your hand and kiss the back whenever he gets the urge. He can tell you he loves you randomly whenever he pleases. He can kiss you- kiss you everywhere. He wishes he could go back and tell himself that he got the girl- that she loves him just as much. Tell him it’s better than he ever imagined it. 

The dust has settled. The worst of it all seems to be behind you all. Steve has a date lined up for tomorrow night and it seems he’s finally been able to let the idea of you go. Maybe, you’ll always be the one that got away, but he knows he’ll find the person he was always meant to be with. He has a really good feeling about the girl he’s seeing tomorrow. 

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! Please let me know if you liked it. I decided on doing a follow-up story (maybe 3 parts?) focusing on this Steve and an another reader insert! Hopefully that's not too confusing lol It's going to focus on Steve meeting someone new, and falling for her. It can be read as a standalone or as a follow-up to this story. I'm going to do my best to have it out as soon as I can. Let me know if you like the idea or if it's too confusing.

TAGLIST: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington @mrsjellymunson @fanficfantik

[wolverigrl]

You telling Hugh not to shave bc you love his beard so much and in other ways and y'all are just being giggly and cute together

The Beard Dilemma

Hugh Jackman x f!reader

A/N: I had fun writing this one, so I hope you'll giggle too!

Warnings: none

Enjoy!

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I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Hugh in front of the mirror as he slowly dragged the razor across his cheek. His beard - my beard - was disappearing, and I couldn’t help but let out a dramatic whine.

"Really? You’re shaving it off?" I said, the disappointment clear in my voice as I stepped closer.

He glanced at me through the mirror, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

"You make it sound like I’m committing a crime."

"Worse! You’re getting rid of my beard!" I pouted, stepping into the bathroom and leaning against the sink.

"I’ve grown attached to it. Literally and emotionally."

He chuckled, rinsing the razor under the tap. "Didn’t realize we were in a love triangle - me, you, and the beard. Should I be worried?"

"I think so." I said, reaching out and brushing my fingers through the remaining scruff on his jaw.

"It gives you a certain rugged, manly thing. Like you could just chop down a tree with your bare hands."

He tilted his head, meeting my gaze with a grin.

"A tree? Bare hands? Quite the fantasy you’ve got there."

"Well, I can’t help it. You give off serious ‘I’m about to go chop wood and then fix the cabin’ energy. And now you’re… smooth." I sighed dramatically, dragging a finger down his now-smooth cheek.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Oh, I don’t know." He turned, that playful spark in his eyes. "Maybe kiss it? Appreciate my baby-soft skin?"

I snorted. "Baby-soft? Maybe after an exfoliant. Right now, you’re like, freshly peeled potato smooth."

He laughed, the sound deep and rumbling as he set the razor down.

"A potato? Wow. First Wolverine, now a vegetable."

I shrugged, fighting the smile creeping up my face. "What can I say? I like my men starchy."

"Oh, is that it? I shave and suddenly I’ve lost all my wild, masculine appeal?" He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, his hands finding my waist.

"Might have." I teased, but my voice softened as he pulled me in. "I liked the rugged edge."

"Rugged, huh?" His voice dropped, brushing his lips against my ear. "Pretty sure I can still manage rugged."

I shivered, biting back a grin as I let him get close.

"Doubtful. I mean, how am I supposed to take you seriously as my lumberjack now?"

He laughed again, warm breath against my neck. "A lumberjack, huh? Want me to go outside, grab an axe, and prove it to you?"

"You’d have to. I need proof!" I teased, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"How else am I going to keep being attracted to you?"

His hands slid up my sides, pulling me closer. "Maybe I should remind you of all the other reasons."

"Oh yeah?" I raised a brow, trying to play it cool despite the way his voice sent a pleasant hum through me. "Like what?"

He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine, his freshly shaven cheek grazing my skin. "Like this?"

I pretended to consider it, lips quirking.

"Hmm.. I don’t know, that’s only one point in your favor."

He smirked, leaning in a little more.

"I can think of a few more. Want me to list them?"

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh, but the playful tension between us was impossible to ignore. "I mean, you could list them, but I’m a woman of action, Hugh."

"Oh, I’m well aware." His voice was a deep murmur, eyes dark with amusement. "And here I thought you liked me for my charm, my acting skills, and… my potato face."

I burst out laughing at that, shaking my head. "Okay, okay, I’ll give you that one. The smooth face isn’t all bad."

"Just ‘not all bad’? Come on, I think I deserve more credit!" he teased, tilting his head down to kiss the corner of my mouth, slow and deliberate.

"Fine.." I murmured against his lips. "You’re still very hot. But I miss the beard!"

He pulled back just enough to smirk at me. "You really have a thing for the scruff, don’t you?"

"Yeah, I do!" It makes you look dangerous! Like you’d rescue me from a burning building and then carry me off into the wilderness." I bit my lip again, this time more on purpose.

He laughed softly, his forehead resting against mine. "Wilderness? Now I’m starting to wonder what kind of man you think I am."

"The hot, wilderness-surviving, tree-chopping kind." I said with a grin, leaning into him. "What, don’t think you can handle it?"

His hand slid up my back, and his voice dropped into that low, teasing tone that always made my stomach flip.

"Oh, I think I could handle a lot more than you realize!"

I raised an eyebrow, lips curving. "Yeah? Prove it."

We held each other’s gaze for a moment, the playful flirtation simmering between us, both daring the other to break first. Then he lifted me effortlessly, and I let out a surprised laugh as he spun me once, setting me down carefully on the counter.

"Still rugged enough for you?" he asked, his hands resting on my thighs, his grin cocky.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, tugging him closer, my lips brushing his. L

"I guess you’ve still got it." I murmured, feeling his breath hitch just slightly.

He smiled, his forehead pressing against mine as we shared a moment of quiet, playful intimacy.

"You’re trouble, you know that?"

I grinned, tugging him down for another kiss. "You wouldn’t have it any other way."

---------------------------------------------------

Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee

[whatremains-if]

How about a classic? During crushing stage, ROs see MC with hickies on their neck?

oooh we love a good classic, i feel like the drama that comes with the whole love triangle trope are just so interesting to watch FROM A FAR but who doesn't love emotionally abusing their sweet little OC's ?

Cal/Cass.

C wouldn’t say a fucking word, not even one. They’d see the marks on MC's neck and their jaw would tense just slightly, that barely-there shift in their expression that anyone would miss. C would glance once, look away, and then not look at MC again for the rest of the day. 

Not out of indifference, but because they're boiling something down inside that they don't want to examine. It’s not jealousy that consumes them—it’s that quiet, internal disappointment. The kind that feels stupid because they never said anything so there's no point in being angry at anyone but themself. 

Ray.

Ray would clock it and immediately start questioning MC about it, taking a more joking approach despite the awkward feeling he suddenly felt in his chest. Once the teasing simmered down, he’d awkwardly clear his throat and avert the conversation to a sudden halt, excusing himself.

Of course, he’s not mad. 

It just sort of all stings. In the quiet moments when no one’s looking, he’d silently wonder who it was, if MC was happy if it was real. He’s too respectful to judge, especially after everything they’ve all been through. but he does pull back from MC a little bit emotionally. Just to keep himself from slipping up.

Ezra/Ellie.

E would freeze in the middle of their sentence. Their eyes would lock onto MC’s neck for a second too long before they realize that they’re just straight-up staring, and then they would start fumbling their next few words so badly that they might as well have swallowed their tongue.

E would be more on the noticeably quiet side for the rest of the day. Fidgeting around with things more than usual. Choosing to isolate themself instead of hanging off of someone else’s shoulder like usual. Retreating away into some other room or corner with their journal as their own company or start taking apart something that didn’t really need to be fixed.

Saint.

S would take one look and immediately scoff under their breath. Unlike the others, S wouldn't even try to hide their emotional reaction. S would mutter something under their breath, but refuse to elaborate.

S would be more on the bitter side, just plain and simple. Just because the thought alone of MC with someone else makes them sour, so seeing MC with someone else’s mark bruised into their skin? That would punch the wind right out of S.

S would throw themself into something reckless that day, maybe push a little too hard on a run, instigate a fight with someone just to burn off all the frustration bubbling over. If MC confronts them about their attitude, they would just shrug with that signature annoying smug expression.

[pandapetals]

Mutant Support Group

worst logan/wolverine x wade wilson x fem!reader - a mini love triangle if you blink you'll miss it, reader is a therapist, mutant support group, humor, wade being wade, logan brooding, no y/n used, no reader description

Logan and Wade are court-ordered to attend a mutant support group and you are the therapist.

prompt idea from @Silverskyeline from their logan promptober: #9-deadpool

“Welcome to the mutant support group,” you began, standing in front of the circle of mismatched chairs. The room was filled with an assortment of mutants, each wearing varying degrees of skepticism, boredom, or outright hostility. You tried to keep your tone steady and professional, but you could feel the tension in the air. “This is a safe place to share your feelings.”

The words felt stiff, rehearsed, like a script you were obligated to follow, and Wade picked up on it immediately.

He snorted, leaning back in his chair with a loud creak. “Wow, stellar opener, doc. Really heartfelt. Almost moved me to tears.” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye with exaggerated drama. “Just so we’re clear, I’m only here ‘cause it's court-ordered and because I didn’t want big ol’ Wolverine over here going all lone-wolf brooding by himself. Figured he could use the emotional support.” Wade nodded toward Logan, who was glaring at him from across the circle.

Logan shot Wade a look that could’ve melted steel. “I don’t need your support, Wilson.”

“Oh, I beg to differ, bub.” Wade grinned, leaning forward conspiratorially like they were the best of friends instead of two guys who spent 99% of their time trying to avoid killing each other. “Who else is gonna make sure you don’t go full feral on the rest of the class?” He gave a wide-eyed, mock gasp. “Or, God forbid, scare away our lovely therapist here?”

Your eyes flicked between the two of them. Logan, arms crossed, sat rigid in his chair like it might break under the weight of his frustration. Wade, on the other hand, had practically made himself at home, legs sprawled out, clearly enjoying the fact that his mere presence was getting under Logan’s skin.

You tried to keep your cool. After all, you were the professional here but the banter between them was... entertaining. In a chaotic, slightly insane sort of way.

“I don’t scare that easy,” you said with a small smile, trying to lighten the tension. “So, let’s try to keep things civil.”

Logan grunted, shifting in his seat. “I don’t see why I’m even here. I’m not the one who put someone in the hospital.”

Wade raised a hand. “Okay, to be fair, that guy walked into my katana. Not my fault.”

You sighed, glancing at the notes you had prepared, which now seemed completely useless. “This isn’t about blaming anyone. It’s about working through—”

“Feelings,” Wade interrupted, putting air quotes around the word, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I know. Logan’s great at those. Really opens up. He’s like a freakin’ flower—just blooms with emotional vulnerability.”

Logan’s scowl deepened, his knuckles white as he clenched them. “Wilson, if you don’t shut up, I’ll—”

You raised a hand, cutting off Logan before things got any more tense. “Logan,” you said, keeping your tone calm, even though you could feel the storm brewing between them. “I know this might not be your ideal setting, but it might help to—”

“Help?” Logan huffed, glancing up at you with a mix of irritation and something else you couldn’t quite place. His hazel eyes met yours briefly before he looked away, jaw tightening. “No offense, but sitting in a circle talkin’ about feelings isn’t exactly my thing.”

Wade leaned in with a smirk. “Oh, come on, you can tell her anything. She’s great! And I betcha she’s got a soft spot for grumpy, hairy guys with commitment issues. It’s basically a guarantee.”

Logan looked like he was two seconds from lunging across the circle at Wade, but your voice stopped him again, cutting through the tension.

“You both might be surprised at what talking can do,” you said, keeping your tone even, though the corners of your mouth tugged up at Wade’s antics. “I know this isn’t easy for either of you, but I’m here to help.” You glanced at Logan, who was now staring intently at the floor, his muscles still coiled tight. “And trust me, I’ve dealt with worse.”

Wade perked up, flashing you an exaggerated grin. “Worse than this?” He gestured between himself and Logan. “You mean you’ve had to deal with two incredibly handsome, but emotionally stunted, killing machines before?”

You bit back a laugh, trying to remain professional. “You’d be surprised.”

Logan snorted, finally looking up at you. “I doubt that.”

There was a flicker of something behind his usual gruffness, a warmth that caught you off guard. He still looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, but there was an unspoken gratitude in his eyes, almost as if he appreciated the fact that you hadn’t given up on him, even if he wasn’t sure why you cared in the first place.

You met his gaze for a moment longer, something unsaid passing between you before you turned back to the group at large. “Alright,” you said, trying to get things back on track, “Let’s get started. Maybe we can talk about what brings us here.”

Wade raised his hand, the grin never leaving his face. “Oh, oh! I’ll go first. I’m here to annoy Logan and maybe impress the lovely therapist with my devastating charm.”

Logan grunted, rolling his eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that broke across your face. This session wasn’t going to go as planned. You knew that much. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

At least you had Wade’s chaotic humor to lighten the tension—and Logan’s brooding presence, which, as much as you’d never admit out loud, had its own undeniable charm.

“Alright, Wade,” you said, settling into your chair. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

Logan groaned, already regretting every second of this, while Wade winked at you, clearly ready to keep pushing every button he could find.

This was going to be an interesting session.

A few sessions in, and the mutant support group was... an experience. You had expected a challenge, but Wade was turning it into something else entirely. While most of the mutants in the group had gradually started opening up, Wade had taken things to a whole new level—oversharing, making inappropriate jokes, and somehow managing to turn every topic back to himself.

He was thriving. And it was exhausting.

"—so anyway, after the third time I got decapitated, I figured maybe I should rethink my career choices," Wade was saying, leaning back in his chair, completely at ease. The rest of the group looked on in various stages of disbelief, irritation, or outright boredom. "But then I realized, nah. Can’t give up now. Plus, my head grows back, so, you know, no harm, no foul.”

A collective sigh filled the room. One of the younger mutants, a girl with telekinetic abilities, was openly massaging her temples like Wade’s stories were causing a migraine. The others just stared at him, their eyes glazing over.

You tried to maintain your professional smile, though it was getting harder. Wade’s openness wasn’t the problem; it was the constant stream of over-the-top stories, mixed with his strange attempts to impress everyone—especially you. He had a way of turning therapy into stand-up comedy, and while it was endearing at first, now it was starting to grate on everyone’s nerves.

“Well, that’s... an interesting experience, Wade,” you said, trying to steer the conversation back to the group. “Does anyone else want to share something today?”

Before anyone could respond, Wade leaned forward, his mask pulled up just enough to show his mouth. “Come on, you know you want more. I haven’t even gotten to the part where I fought a bear. With one arm. While naked.” He paused, then winked in your direction. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

Logan, sitting next to Wade, let out a long, low growl, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He hadn’t said much during any of the sessions, but his patience for Wade’s antics was clearly wearing thin. “Will you shut up already?” Logan grumbled, shooting Wade a look that could’ve curdled milk.

Wade turned to Logan, unfazed. “Why so grumpy, Logan? I thought this was a support group. We’re supposed to support each other. I’m supporting you by entertaining everyone with my tragic yet hilarious life stories. You, on the other hand, just sit there, brooding. Which, I gotta admit, works for you, but it’s not very group-friendly.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t need your support. Or your damn stories.”

You tried to intervene before things escalated, holding up a hand. “Wade, maybe we can give someone else a turn to speak?”

Wade threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop hogging the spotlight. But seriously, if anyone wants to hear more about my harrowing yet oddly inspirational bear fight, I’ll be here after the session.”

The rest of the group groaned collectively, but Wade just smiled, clearly unbothered.

Your eyes flicked to Logan, who hadn’t said more than a few words since the sessions began. He sat in the same spot every week—arms crossed, face set in a permanent scowl, like he was counting down the minutes until he could leave. You could tell he was listening, absorbing everything in his own way, but getting him to open up was like trying to crack a safe.

“Logan,” you said gently, your voice pulling him out of his quiet fury at Wade. “You don’t have to share if you’re not ready, but this space is here for you, too. No pressure, but if you ever feel like talking... we’re all here to listen.”

His gaze shifted to you for a moment, those intense hazel eyes studying you like he was weighing something. You’d caught him looking at you like that before, but he always quickly looked away, never letting you in. He was as guarded as ever, a fortress of frustration, anger, and something deeper you hadn’t quite figured out yet.

“I ain’t got nothin’ to say,” he muttered finally, his gaze dropping back to the floor. “This whole thing’s a waste of time.”

Wade gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “A waste of time? Logan, how dare you! Do you know how much I’ve grown as a person in this safe, non-judgmental environment?” He turned to the group with wide eyes. “I’m a changed man! Who here feels that Logan needs to open up? Show of hands.”

A few hesitant hands went up, mostly out of fear that Wade would never stop talking if they didn’t agree.

Logan rolled his eyes, his fists clenching. “I swear to God, Wilson—”

Before Logan could finish his threat, Wade leaned over, clapping him on the shoulder. “Come on, big guy, it’s okay. We all know you’ve got a lot of pent-up aggression, but you know what? This lovely lady here—” he gestured toward you with a grin, “—she’s great with feelings. She’ll fix you right up. You just have to... let go.”

Logan shot you an almost apologetic look as if to say I don’t know how you deal with this guy, but still, he remained quiet, his walls firmly in place.

You smiled softly, not pushing any further. “Logan, whenever you’re ready. It’s your call.”

Wade, clearly ignoring the tension, leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Well, at least someone appreciates my openness. I’m like an emotional onion—just peeling back the layers. Logan, on the other hand...” He gestured to Logan, who looked like he was seriously considering stabbing Wade. “He’s more like an emotional rock. Very sturdy. Not much peeling going on.”

The group chuckled awkwardly, though Logan’s expression remained unchanged.

You decided to end the session before Logan could actually strangle Wade. “Alright, let’s wrap up for today. We’ll pick things up next week.”

As the group began to file out, Wade stayed behind, shooting you a wink. “See you next time, doc. Maybe then we’ll finally get Logan to cry. I bet he’s got a whole waterfall of emotions just waiting to burst out.”

Logan grunted as he stood, giving Wade a dark look. “You’re gonna be the one crying, Wilson, if you don’t shut up.”

Wade laughed, clearly enjoying the threat. “Promises, promises.”

You watched the two of them leave, shaking your head. This support group was definitely not going as planned, but there was something oddly endearing about the dynamic between them. Logan’s silence was a challenge you weren’t ready to give up on, and Wade... well, Wade was Wade.

Another week, another session. The support group had become its own kind of spectacle. Mutants of all kinds still attended, most of them initially for the mandatory requirement, but now… now there was something more.

Logan and Wade were still the centerpiece of the chaos, of course. Wade, usually holding court with his unfiltered, never-ending monologues, and Logan, silently fuming, arms always crossed, like he was about two seconds away from storming out.

But today felt different.

You could sense it as soon as the session began. Wade, uncharacteristically, was quiet. Well, quiet for him—he’d cracked a few jokes, sure, but something was off. Logan, too, seemed a little more relaxed than usual, though his expression remained unreadable as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes focused anywhere but on you or the rest of the group.

The session began like always, with a few of the regulars sharing their progress—small victories, frustrations, the typical back-and-forth you had come to expect. Wade remained unusually silent, nodding thoughtfully as others spoke. The room wasn’t used to this, and even Logan raised an eyebrow at him, suspicious.

Eventually, all eyes shifted to Logan. He’d spent weeks in the background, listening, brooding, while Wade made a circus of it all. But now, there was a quietness in the room, a moment where he could step in if he wanted to.

You leaned forward slightly, your voice gentle but encouraging. “Logan, do you want to say something today?”

He didn’t move at first, his gaze fixed on the ground. His jaw clenched, the familiar tension rolling through his body. Wade shot him a glance, then—shockingly—said nothing, waiting like everyone else. The room was still, all eyes on Logan.

For a moment, it seemed like he might shrug it off again like he had done so many times before. But then, after what felt like an eternity, Logan exhaled, his arms uncrossing as he sat forward in his chair.

“I’ve been through a lotta shit,” he said gruffly, his voice low and rough like he was dragging the words out from somewhere deep inside. His eyes flicked up to yours briefly before settling back on the ground. “More than most people can understand. Seen things… done things I ain’t proud of.”

Everyone stayed silent, hanging on his words, even Wade, who, for once, didn’t make a single joke.

“I don’t talk about it,” Logan continued, his voice quieter now, almost like he was speaking to himself. “Because what’s the point? It’s always the same. I get close to people, they get hurt, or they die. Or I do something that screws it all up.”

His words hung heavy in the air, a thick tension filling the room. You could feel the weight of his pain, the years of guilt and loss that had shaped him into the man sitting before you. But even more than that, there was a vulnerability in his voice that hadn’t been there before—a crack in the armor he wore so tightly around himself.

“I don’t belong here,” Logan muttered, shaking his head, his hands flexing into fists. “This group, this—talkin’ about feelings, it ain’t gonna fix anything. What’s done is done.”

You watched him carefully, your heart aching at the rawness in his voice. “Maybe it won’t fix things,” you said gently, meeting his gaze, “but you’re not alone, Logan. Sometimes just being able to share it with someone else, knowing they’re listening… it helps.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, but there was something different in his eyes—less guarded, less closed off. The room was utterly silent, everyone still reeling from the fact that Logan had actually spoken about his past, about his feelings. You could see the flicker of understanding in the other mutants’ faces, the connection they felt with his struggle.

And then, just when the moment was at its most tense, Wade—of all people—broke the silence.

“Well,” Wade said, his voice surprisingly soft, “that was... beautifully tragic, Logan. Really. Heartfelt. You’re like a grumpy, Canadian Hemingway.”

Logan shot him a look, but there was no bite to it. “Shut up, Wilson.”

Wade grinned but quickly raised his hands. “I know, I know. I’m kidding.” He looked around the room, then—much to everyone’s shock—leaned forward, his voice dropping in volume, becoming almost... serious. “Look, uh… I’ve been thinking.”

Everyone turned to Wade, clearly expecting some kind of joke, but his usual smirk was gone. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, glancing at you briefly before looking down at the floor.

“I talk a lot. Like, a lot,” Wade admitted, his voice quieter than anyone had ever heard it. “And I know I drive everyone crazy with it, but the thing is… I do it because... well, I don’t know how else to act. It’s easier to joke around than actually deal with stuff, you know?”

Logan raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.

Wade glanced around the room, then back at you, his tone almost sheepish. “But I guess... I’ve been trying to—uh—maybe make a better impression on someone here.” His eyes flickered to you briefly before he quickly looked away, trying to hide the faint flush that crept up his neck. “You know... actually let people talk for once.”

You blinked, surprised, unsure if you were reading between the lines correctly. Wade had always been a handful, never taking anything seriously. Yet here he was, essentially admitting—albeit in his own strange way—that he was trying to improve. For you.

Logan looked at Wade, then at you, catching the unspoken confession in Wade’s tone. His expression darkened slightly, his jaw clenching. There was no verbal acknowledgment, but you could sense the tension between the two men heightening, a silent competition rising between them.

“Well,” you said after a beat, trying to diffuse the moment with a smile, “I appreciate that, Wade. I think everyone does.”

Wade beamed at you, clearly pleased, but Logan’s eyes remained on you, his expression unreadable, a mix of emotions brewing beneath the surface. He had opened up, just a crack, but the way he watched you now—intense, focused—it was clear there was something more behind those guarded hazel eyes.

You felt the weight of Logan’s gaze, the intensity in it stirring something deep inside you, but you kept your focus on the group, trying not to let the tension unravel the fragile calm you had built.

As the session wrapped up, Logan lingered by the door, his posture tense, his gaze following you as you spoke with the other members. Wade, for once, didn’t make any more jokes, just offered a small wave before heading out.

But Logan stayed.

As the room emptied, he finally approached you, his expression unreadable, his voice low. “Thanks for… earlier,” he muttered, his gaze flickering to the floor before meeting yours again. “I don’t know if it helps, but... maybe you’re right.”

You smiled softly, your chest tightening at the vulnerability in his tone. “Anytime, Logan. I’m here if you need to talk more.”

He didn’t respond; he just gave a brief nod, the weight of his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind him.

You stood there for a moment, your heart still racing, the echo of his words hanging in the air. Something had shifted between the three of you, and though you weren’t sure where it would lead, one thing was certain: Logan and Wade—both in their own ways—were working to become better versions of themselves.

Whether you realized it or not, you had become the reason they were trying. 

[boytearscore]

why can’t i hate you? — matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo.

summary: being best friends with chris and nick meant the world to you, it also meant you had to deal with their brother’s hate, rudeness, eye rolls, mean comments and coldness all the time. but that didn’t bother you, in fact, it was actually always a pleasure to annoy the shit out of him constantly.

warnings: swearing, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, love triangle (not threesome), toxic behavior, angst, comedy, possible smut and of course, strong female lead.

taglist: @sleepysturniolo, @soshere, @spideylovin, @calisturniolo, @ilovecheese09, @ncm9696 , @klaus223492, @freshloveforthefit (thank you so much for the support, girls 💋)

author’s note: girls, i’m really sorry for the sudden disappearance. i had work plus lots to deal in life and a bad situationship that ended horribly, so now i have more time and i’ll be back with more updates. this is the next chapter of “why can’t i hate you?” and matt is gonna spill some secrets, stay tuned. hehe.

chapter four.

after finally getting home, you went to bed without checking your phone. chris was still sending messages and you also saw matt’s name on the notifications. but considering the earlier events, both matt’s and chris behaviour, you needed time to think before talking to them. you hated acting out of emotions, people hurt each other in the heat of the moment and that could possibly lead to a cycle end and to be honest, even though chris was suddenly acting like a fucking possessive person, you didn’t want to lose him.

eventually, you fell asleep hugging one of your pillows with a hundred thoughts in mind.

it’s monday, you got up late and went to work in a rush. only having time to take a kick shower and brush your teeth. at this point, you had 30 messages and since there was literally no time to actually read them, you just drove to work in completely silence. half of your brain was a war, the other half was completely calm, thinking in a racional way. the problem is you’re not being able to balance those two things like you usually do.

the day was extremely slow and stressful, some clients had a lot of questions and repeated them multiple times, so you had to explain over and over with your mind already full of thoughts.

you didn’t have lunch break either, a way of coping with an overflowing mind was throwing yourself in work but when was time to go home, your whole body was rigid and in pain.

you went home driving slowly, still in complete silence but your phone starts ringing.

“not right now, chris.” you whisper to yourself rolling your eyes but after a quick glance at the screen, you see matt’s name.

after thinking for a bit, you decided to pullover to answer the call, something inside your heart told you to.

“hi.” he says, and you look at the sky trying to keep your mind clear.

“hey…” you reply, but he doesn’t say anything for a while. with frowned eyebrows, you ask. “did you meant to call someone else?”

“no, it’s just…” you hear a loud sigh. “do you wanna meet me somewhere? we need to talk.”

“um, i’m almost home.” you said, pondering if that was a good idea. “wanna meet me there?”

“good, i’m already here.” you heard him say and before you could answer, he hang up.

you drove faster, but safely. nothing could take the thoughts out off of your mind, the memories from last night and the theories of what matthew could possibly have to say.

the thing is, no one messes with your head when it comes to mixed actions. especially men. they were all like that, you just assume what’s going on in their head and they act all surprised because you’re usually right. and until days ago, you knew matthew. you knew by the way he reacted to your teasing, every single thought he had. but after last night… everything is a blur, you don’t know what to think, you have no control over your emotions, you can’t even say no when he asks to meet you out of nowhere in such a hard day.

before you noticed, you got home. no one was there which made you confused but not surprised, maybe he left after getting impatient? that’s so him.

after parking the car in the garage, you slowly open the door entering still confused. everything was dark and before you could touch the light switch, someone grabbed you by the waist, turning you around. your heart skipped a beat, you grip the person’s hand and twist it with a quick move, making them face the wall.

“hey, hey. it’s me, matt!” he gasps, yelling.

your eyes widen, staring for a second at the back of matt’s head. “the fuck are you doing? how did you get inside?” you ask firmly.

“the spare key, under the plant…” he’s out of breath, almost moaning in pain from your grip. “nick told me.”

you roll your eyes, letting matt’s hand go and buffing. “that kid needs to shut his mouth.”

he sighs, massaging his wrist and biting his lips. you observe him, the way he’s sensitive to touch. the lack of sleep and rest probably got to you because wide things went through your mind.

“don’t ever do that again.” you tell him, throwing your purse on the couch and taking off your blazer. matthew is staring at you without saying anything. you raise a brow.

“what?” you ask and he looks away, scratching the back of his neck.

“nothing, it’s just… you look different wearing that.” he says still not looking at you. “usually you dress like a homeless person.”

“you came here to talk or tease me?” you ask with an annoyed face and he chuckles. that was the first time you heard his little laugh or saw a smile that wasn’t mean on his lips.

“sorry, i…” he finally looks at you, staring at your eyes while leaning against your living room wall. “can i ask you a question?”

the girl looks at the blue eyed boy for a few seconds, confused. what exaclty he could possibly be so curious about and why is he being so… different?

“go on.” she says, taking her heels off.

“do you have a thing for chris?” his voice is low, but loud enough for her to hear. he holds his breath, trying hard not to punch himself for being so stupid.

“why?” she raises a brow, walking to the couch and sitting there, crossing her legs with a nonchalant and calm face.

“you can’t answer a question with another one.” he rolls his eyes and heads to the couch next to hers, sitting calmly.

“i never thought about it.” she replies his question honestly, she really didn’t think about it until the day before when the whole thing happened. “he’s my best friend, i look at him and see my soulmate.” she notices a certain discomfort on matt’s face but decides to ignore it and continue her thoughs. “but not in that way.”

“not what it looked like yesterday.” he says before thinking, internally screaming at himself and she tilts her head again, laughing. “what’s so funny?”

“what’s with you, matt?” she asks him, frowning.

“what do you mean?”

“if i didn’t know you i’d say you’re jealous.”

“bullshit, and you don’t know me.”

“then why?”

“what?”

“why do you care if i’m into chris or not?”

he avoids her penetrating gaze for a few seconds, maybe for a full minute and knowing he couldn’t escape the question, he finally looks at her again.

“because i can’t allow it to happen.” he says firmly, clenching his jaw.

if she was confused before, now the girl was puzzled beyond words and thoughts.

“you think i’m gonna hurt chris? because i would ne…”

“that’s not why.” he interrups her, his eyes telling her more than his words. “i can’t bare to see you with him, that’s all.”

“why?”

an urge to get up and walk towards him washes over the girl’s body, she goes almost in slow motion and matthew follows her steps without blinking.

“why?” she asks again, now right in front of him. he’s looking up at her, his jawline is clenched and his hands are gripping his jeans.

“because…” he whispers, his voice cracking and she bends over facing him closely, matt lets out a sigh with her breath hitting his face. “because if you can’t be mine you won’t be his either.”

[caelesjjk]

entangled | jjk&kth - teaser

⟶title: entangled

⟶au: marvel au

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle

⟶wc: 1.5k for this

⟶banner: by meee, and yes I’m insane and made a new one

⟶warnings: mentions of blood, kissing, a boob grab and an ass grab, but no actual smut for this, Jungkook calls you Data

⟶ summary: Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man.

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend.

You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well?

Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world.

What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

⟶ authors note: hello darklings. I know a lot of people have been waiting for this fic, and you’ll have wait just a bit more. But in the meantime, I offer this little teaser to hold you over. A little glimpse of spidey kook. First chapter will be posted in just a few weeks!

Also, if you asked to be on the taglist just now that I tried messing with it for a long ass time and got annoyed lol. I may try again for the actual fic.

“What are you doing here anyways?” You shove against his broad chest and feel his arm release your waist. He sighs, following you inside your apartment.

“I know you’re upset I missed the study session…” Jungkook starts to explain, but you twist back around to face him.

“If my friends hadn’t seen you around campus now and then, they would think I made you up, Jungkook. You never show. It makes me look pathetic.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for the next excuse.

“You aren’t pathetic, Data. I’m just…” Jungkook winces when he reaches for you, a hand moving down to his ribs in pain. “Sorry, it’s healing it’s just slow.”

“What’s healing? What happened to you?” You let the fight go for a moment, closing the space between the two of you and moving his hand out of the way.

Beneath his fingers is a large cut, bloody but half hidden by his suit. It looks angry and inflamed. What could’ve made a cut like this?

“It’s nothing. I’ll heal up in a couple hours.” He pulls your hand away, blood stained on the tips of your fingers.

“It won’t matter how quick you heal if it gets infected. Come in here.” Your hand wraps around his and you pull him into your small bathroom. You steady him against your bathroom vanity and move to grab your first aid kit from the cabinet above your toilet. “Take that off.” You gesture to his Spider-Man suit.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook teases, gingerly working his top half out of the suit. He hisses through his teeth as he peels the suit away from his ribs and lets it hang at his hips.

You are not the universe's strongest soldier.

Your eyes drift over all the dips and curves of muscle. A perfectly sculpted chest and abs you could literally eat off of are scrambling every sense you have in your head. You need to focus. Stay focused on the task at hand and not his ridiculously toned body.

“You okay, Data?” He asks, humor in his voice. That horrid nickname he had given you in your first year as lab partners is feeling more endearing these days. You clear your throat.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? Just tending to Spider-Man’s wounds in my extremely tiny bathroom.” You try to laugh but it doesn’t sound genuine.

You take out some bandages and gauze and get to work cleaning him up. But even as you tape down the gauze, you can visibly see the wound getting smaller. Super powers were really something else.

“Data.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to reality.

“What?” You sigh.

“Please come here.” His hands reach for your hips and you give in, letting him pull you until you’re flush against him, suddenly nose to nose. “That’s better.”

“I’m angry with you.” You whisper, heart pumping a bit faster in the close proximity.

“I know that you are. I’m really sorry…I swear I wanted to be there.” You look down to see him slip his gloves off his hands and sit them on the countertop before they’re coming up to cup your face.

“Then what happened? You need to tell me.” Your hands wrap around his wrists.

“There’s something out there, Data. A…monster that we can’t figure out. He’s strong…and fast. Nothing I’ve ever seen before.” His thumbs brush the corners of your mouth.

“What does it want?”

“It keeps breaking into the Lab across the River. It’s looking for something. But no one at the lab is being very forthcoming with information.” His forehead presses to yours, “but Mr. Kim is working on that part.”

Seokjin Kim, also known as Ironman. He was a mentor and a good friend to Jungkook. He had helped Jungkook navigate the new world of being a superhero and also gave him a job to help him pay for school.

“Hasn’t Mr. Kim told you to call him Jin over and over?” You tease, hands coming up to rest against his chest. Jungkook laughs quietly, pulling you closer.

“He has. Guess it just slipped out.” His hands move down to palm your ass.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” You raise an eyebrow in question of his actions.

“Just feels like I haven’t touched you in so long.” His warm mouth finds your throat and he presses kisses to the skin.

“Two days is a long time?”

“It is when it comes to you. Thinking about how much I want you gets so distracting.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck making you giggle.

“So what I did for you two days ago wasn’t enough?” You let your hands slither down from his chest and over the planes of his stomach.

“Never enough.” His nose skims over your jaw until you’re back face to face and his lips are devouring yours. “I’d like to pay you back.”

“How?” You moan when you’re cut off by his tongue sliding into your mouth.

“Let me show you?” Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom.

Thinking he means to lead you to your bed, you start to pull him towards it but he seems to have other ideas, walking you back out onto the balcony. He releases your hand momentarily to slide his suit back up over his shoulders.

“What are you going to show me out here, Jungkook?” You start to feel suspicious.

“Do you trust me?” He jumps up onto your railing with ease, still holding your hand in his.

“Not if it involves you swinging me around off the side of buildings.” You start to pull your hand out of his, but his web shooter from the other wrist shoots a web at your torso, using his inhuman strength to pull you up onto the railing into his arms.

“I would never let you fall. Never. Just close your eyes for a few minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it, Data.” He touches your cheek gently, and even though you want to throw up every time he does this, you close your eyes and wrap your arms as tightly as possible around his neck and legs around his waist. “Ready?” He whispers in your ear, one strong arm wrapping around your back.

You don’t verbally answer, just nod once before burying your face into his neck.

And then the ground is no longer beneath your feet and the sickening feeling of free falling is very apparent. You try to breathe, squeezing yourself around Jungkook as you listen to the whooshing sound of his web shooters discharge and swing you between the tallest buildings in the city.

“You’re doing amazing.” Jungkook kisses your cheek, “just another minute.”

You keep your eyes squeezed shut until the curiosity becomes too overwhelming, making you dare to open your eyes just the slightest bit. You see the sun completely setting on the horizon, orange and purple hues slowly disappearing beneath the river. As long as you don’t think about how high up you are, it really is beautiful up here.

Jungkook shoots a web straight up into the air, letting it connect to the side of one of the tallest buildings, slowly pulling the two of you up until he’s reached the highest ledge, tapping your thighs so you know it’s safe to put your feet down.

“Why are we up here, Jungkook? You know the heights..” he kisses you before you can finish the sentence.

“Can we try something?” He smiles, and it’s infuriating. You’re too weak for this spidey boy. You sigh with exasperation.

“I’m already very wary of saying yes.” You look away from the ledge towards the top of the building.

“Let me make you feel good…up here.” His cheeks heat a little when he asks.

“Is this some kind of weird adrenaline thing? Why would you want that?” Your voice cracks and you sputter, disbelief heavy in your tone.

“I think it’ll be intense…feel so good.” His lips move down and his teeth nip at your jaw.

“It’s insane…” you melt into his touch and the way his mouth sucks at your neck.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll take you home. And I’ll get you naked in your bed instead.” He pulls your shirt over your head, fully knowing you’re about to give in.

“Bed sounds so good right now…”

“Please, Data…just try it.” He tosses your shirt to the side, cupping your breasts and kissing the tops of them.

“What do I have to do?” You feel too good to let the fear ruin the way he’s making you feel.

“Lie back on the ledge, with your arms above your head and your wrists crossed.”

You let him lead you down onto the ledge, every nerve in your body is hot and on the edge. Jungkook makes sure that you’re settled before he stands back up straight, looking down at you while you slowly move your arms above your head the way he asked.

“You’re perfect, Data.” Jungkook stares at you a moment longer before he aims his web shooter and traps your wrists together against the concrete ledge beneath you.

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Hi, I really enjoyed the way you write about Rose, so I was wondering if you could write a one shot about Rose The Hat/fem!reader where the reader is a member of the True Knot and can predict the future. As per the story of the book, part of the True Knot left Rose because they were afraid of Abra and the reader went away with them, however she saw a vision of Rose's death and came back just in time to save her :) sorry if my request is not clear, because I write with the help of a translator :)

[Hello lovelies! Super cute ideas! :) I definitely had fun with this one. I hope you don’t mind that I combined both of your asks to write this, I figured they were similar enough to do so.]

Doomsday

Rose the Hat x Fem! True Knot Reader

Summary: The tension between Rose the Hat and Reader leading up to the accident of the Overlook is both productive, and almost damning. Between the love triangle provoked by Rose’s dual pursuit of both Crow Daddy and R, Reader’s visions that produce a future Rose is too stubborn to acknowledge, and the fracturing of the True Knot following the failed capture of Abra, the world comes crashing down both metaphorically and literally as Rose is pulled back from the brink of death by Reader.

Warnings: Alludes to violence, description of gunshot wounds, dying via car crash, implied murder, more death. A metaphysical slap?Hurt/Comfort, hella angsty. Allusions to sex, but you don't get any. (Womp womp).

A/N: This is a re-imagining of the events of Doctor Sleep, what I would consider a healthy split between the book and the movie. It may be tempting to romanticize Rose as the victim here, (she’s evil and really, really, really deserves it), just don’t. The adapted 'Lodsam Hanti, Sabbatha Hanti' chant was translated with the help of this Reddit thread.

Word Count: 5.6k

Waking up in Snakebite Andi’s and Silent Sarey’s trailer felt… Wrong. Mostly because you’d been sleeping in Rose’s trailer for six months. Rose had been on the hunt for ‘the whale’ ever since she felt Abra looking in on her at the supermarket. She’d enlisted you to help. Sure, you could predict when it would rain, accidents, hell you’d predicted the 2017 Eagle Creek fire. The steam from that accident had been weak. Very few deaths. Not a proper ‘Big One’, as Rose called it, but there was something odd Rose had noticed. After taking a particularly good meal, as you’d had once or twice given how new you were to the Knot, you’d get these visions. Real proper visions. Rose had hunches, mostly. They were pretty accurate for hunches, but you, you got images. One trip into a casino, and the True Knot had walked out four hundred thousand richer, not like they needed the money. No, the Knot never needed anything, except steam.

“You gonna go back to the watchtower with Rose?” Andi yawned, in a bra and underwear.

As welcoming as Andi and Sarey were, they weren’t quiet hosts. Noise canceling headphones made little difference. You’d spent your night in interrupted sleep cycles, covering your head with a pillow as Sarey and Andi fucked like rabbits. 

“I don’t think Rose wants me there today.” you answered.

“How come?” Andi asked.

Silent Sarey came up behind Andi, pressing her face into her lover’s neck. The two of them were adorable, the token queer couple in the troop of mostly straight men and women that made up the Knot. The twins were the next closest thing to queer. They didn’t really have gender identities, and they weren’t their own people. They kind of existed as facets of each other. Neither one had a gender or identity separate from the other, you supposed that might’ve made them nonbinary. The twins didn’t do labels aside from being ‘the twins’.  That was their thing. 

“Well…” you stammered, shaking your head to rid yourself of the extensive internal monologue, “She just doesn’t need me. You guys are going up to Frasier to get Abra today, and there’s nothing for me to do except stay with Rose. 

Sarey gave a nod. She struggled to communicate with most people in the Knot, except Andi. She’d whisper away in the lisped speech pattern she had, snuggling closer to her younger lover. But the nod was nice. It was her way of saying, ‘I’m listening’.

“Alright, well, I should be getting ready, we’re heading out early.” Andi smiled.

You nodded, pulling on your shoes and exiting your trailer. You didn’t need to be a witness to the farewell sex the couple would inevitably have. Besides, the morning was too fresh to spend in a stuffy trailer.

“Hiya Dreamie.” Barry the Chunk hooted.

Dreamie. That was your name. It’s what everyone called you, and you didn’t mind it. Better than ‘loonie’ or ‘make-believer’. There were worse words, but it was early. No sense in ruminating on the bad.

“Hi Barry.” you smiled back.

The camp was waking up. And you needed some time away from the masses. There was a tingling in the back of your head, an incessant itch. It was the telltale sign of a vision, and a big one. You debated going up to the watchtower. Rose would get the cue, but you and Rose weren’t exactly on good terms right now. Crow wasn’t on good terms with you.

“Dreamie. Rose wants you.” Crow said, scruffy voice jarring you from your thoughts.

“Speak of the devil.” you mumbled to yourself. “Got it, thanks Crow.”

“It’s Crow Daddy to you, Dreamie.” he gave a smile, too white teeth throwing off the otherwise cleverly hidden sneer.

“Got it.” you gave a curt nod.

Then it was back into the lion’s den. You gave a knock on her trailer door before you came in. A noncommittal hum was the permission granted. One step into the trailer and it was clear Rose and Crow had been fucking. The trailer reeked. 

“It’s nice outside, you should open a window.” 

Rose stretched her arms, in a set of mens pajama pants and a sheer bra. Always with the bras, was she allergic to shirts or something?

“Got any dreams, Dreamie?” Rose smirked, not unkindly.

Like it or not, Rose was always in a good mood after a night of fucking. Always. 

“I have an aura, actually.” you sighed.

���Of course you do.” Rose smirked. “I can feel it, the second you walked in. You get this smell to you.”

She stretched again, rotating and twisting her back until her entire spine cracked. It was a bit eerie, watching how far she could bend.

“Someone’s thoughts are loud this morning.” Rose teased.

You shrugged. She was unusually receptive this morning. Or just allergic to minding her own business. You said that one in your head a bit louder.

“Childish, really.” Rose rolled her eyes, stepping out of her bed and coming forward.

You shrugged, giving her an innocent look. Rose raised an eyebrow, and then she pounced. All six feet of her moved with the agility of a cat, snatching you for a deep hug.

“Hmm… You really do have that aura coming on… You always smell like sandalwood. It’s really strong.” Rose hummed.

“And you stink of sex.”

Rose gave a sharp laugh, pressing you tighter against her.

“You don’t like it? It’s my signature perfume.” Rose joked.

The thought was gag worthy. Mostly because the stench of sex was ninety percent Crow’s BO. God that man stunk sometimes.

“I’ll take a shower if you make me some coffee, hmm?” Rose smirked. 

“Deal.”

Rose smiled, turning and walking towards the shower cubicle in her trailer. She was connected to a water pump currently, she could enjoy a long, extensive shower at the cost of virtually nothing. This campsite was Knot property, after all. With her behind the closed door, you had an opportunity to fumigate the room with fresh air. Every single window in the trailer was open. You stripped her bed, mostly because a night with Crow out meant a night with you in. And sleeping in sheets someone had fucked in? Not ideal, to say the least.

“Honeybunch, I forgot a towel, do you mind?” Rose called.

You paused what you were doing, going to grab her a towel. You made it about halfway to the door before the aura in your head got deafeningly loud. It was always awful, getting a particularly intense vision. First your ears would ring, really fucking loud. And then you’d get nauseous. All the saliva would dry up on your tongue, your hands would shake, and the world would go fuzzy. If you could compare it to something, you’d compare it to how a diabetic felt when their blood sugar dropped. This wasn’t a crisis of the body, though the body exhibited symptoms, it was a crisis of the psyche.

“Honeybunch? Hey, Dreamie, hello?”

You couldn’t focus on Rose. You were hunched in her kitchen, head in between your knees, breathing in and out really slow.

“Dreamie? Helloooo?”

The water turned off. Rose opened the bathroom door sticking her head out. She looked up, at where your eye level would be, and then right back down. Rose swore softly, grabbing a robe hanging outside of the bathroom door, pulling it on.

“It’s a bad one, huh?”

You nodded, it was all the response you could give.

“Well let me know when the symptoms…”

Her voice dulled. High pitched ringing, deafening. Your vision swam and all you could do was focus on your breath before images slammed into your skull.

Gunshots. That was what you heard. A forest clearing with railroad tracks. Teeny town? Yes. Teeny Town. Your hands were shaking, a gun in them. A gunshot through your head took you out. Immediately your perspective shifted, slamming into another person only to be killed milliseconds later. In between the pain of shifting perspectives and violently intense sensations of being shot over and over, there were shapes. People contorting, half-translucent, bodies disappearing into clouds of smoke. All of this was awful, but what was worse was the scene change.

Darkness, a calm drive on a quiet road, music playing over the quiet buzz of radio static.

 The switch was so quick it gave you metaphysical whiplash, almost like your brain was rattling in its skull. A child’s voice with a man’s tamber. That’s what you would describe it as. Looking into the rearview, you made out the shape of a small girl with dark curls and deeply old-looking eyes. Too old for a child, like they were borrowed from a man’s broken stare. Your eyes were dark. A bearded face. Crow. It shook you to see through his eyes. The perspective of the world matched, almost like you were Crow. You couldn’t make out what the girl was saying, but you could make out the threat in them. That was before the car swerved, steering wheel slipping in your hands. This death, was drawn out. You could feel every bone in your neck and upper spine shatter as your head went right through the windshield. The realization that you were going to die, the horrible sense of anguish. And then you cycled. Once, twice, dust. 

“.... okay….. How long… Seizures.. Gone…”

So many voices spoke. Your head ached, so did your body. It felt like someone had shoved you into a dryer on the highest tumble setting, you were so sore.

“...There she is! Dreamie, wake up.”

Colors blurred together, someone shoved something into your lips. A straw. You sipped, juice hitting your tongue, bleeding into the metallic taste there. It stung; somewhere on your tongue there was a cut.

“Jesus, Dreamie, you scared the living shit out of us.” Barry said.

Your body lurched. An image flashed, what you thought would be another lurch from a shotgun was entirely different. Barry burning up with fever. Red welts all over him, like that childhood illness your Mom had vaccinated you for. Pox?

“Hey, hey, easy.” someone whispered.

Rose looked down at you, her face contorted into an expression that would surely accelerate the aging of her smile lines.

“She’s never had one this bad… She was seizing for five minutes before she stopped. Then the last one you saw for yourself.” Rose told Walnut, the doctor of the Knot.

He nodded, taking off the blood pressure cuff and stethoscope he’d been using.

“Well, she’s stable now, it should be okay for the group to leave, we’re already delayed by-”

“NO!”

Rose jolted, gaze snapping downwards. She gave you a confused, angry look.

“What do you mean no? Jesus, send them off already. I can handle little Ms. Visions here.”

Your mouth was so dry, tongue bleeding and swollen. Grabbing for her wrist, you tried to get Rose to understand, to listen, at the very least.

“Shh, tell me in a minute.” Rose replied.

You squeezed more insistently. Rose pursed her lips, looking down at you with a warning look. You stayed silent. Even if the Knot left without you being able to warn Rose, she could always call them back. You stayed with Apron Annie while Rose dressed, slapping her topper on her head before slipping out of her trailer door.

“You sure gave her a scare, you know?” Annie smiled sweetly. 

“I… I saw something bad.”

“I figured. You tell Rose first though. I wouldn’t know what to do with your visions.” Annie shook her head.

You curled into the older woman’s grasp. She’d been a runaway slave before the Knot. Crafty, quick, an avid reader. Nobody read more than Annie, simply because no one refused to be fooled like Annie. 

“And your hair is a rat’s nest, lord have mercy.” Annie sighed.

She got up, getting some of your hair tools before setting down to the task of combing out and braiding your hair. It was comforting, the massaging of rosemary oil into your scalp relieved some of the ache in your head.

“Walnut said to keep drinking that juice. Your blood sugar dropped during the seizure. You’d best listen.”

You nodded weakly, sipping the juice without complaint. Annie’s accent was creeping back in, it always did when she was being stern with somebody. 

“You jus’ rest here awhile.”

←→

It was safe to say Rose didn’t believe you. You’d sat down with her and explained the vision front to back, the men who’d done the shooting and Crow’s death via car crash.

“Rose, I know what I saw-”

“I. Don’t. Care.” Rose snapped. “We need this Abra girl, and the bitch child isn’t going to kill the team.”

Denial. Always with the fucking denial.

“Rose, please.” you tried to coax her.

“No, don’t ‘Rose’ me. Your blood sugar dropped, you had a seizure, and…”

Even Rose was having a hard time believing her own lie. She didn’t want to be wrong. Abra could fix all of the True Knot’s problems. Steam on demand? God, what a novelty. After Grandpa Flick had died, Rose had gone frantic. They’d lost three True in twenty years. Three. That was like losing three family members in two weeks and Crow was getting old. Last night had been an anomaly for them. A whole night of love making three weeks after they’d taken steam? God, that never happened. Rose was still aching from it, still sore from the intensity of it. How often could that be if they were taking steam every three months? Could Abra withstand every two? Every two months for ten, twenty years? They’d consistently age backwards. A secluded ranch, a house? Somewhere permanent? Rose needed that more than she cared to admit.

“Please call them back.” you pleaded.

Rose shook her head immediately. 

“No. No, no, NO!” Rose snarled. ‘They’ll snatch the girl in Frazier, kill the family if necessary. It’ll take three hours tops. I can’t lose this chance just because you had a bad dream.” she snapped.

She watched your mouth bob. There was real fear in your eyes, real anger. It reminded her of a child fighting a tantrum. God, you really were young. Seven years in the Knot, snatched at seventeen, eighteen? A baby. You were a total baby to her, and so fragile. You were young enough and new enough to your gifts that Rose could take a chance on your dreams being wrong. It was plausible that your gifts had far more variability than just visions of the future. She wasn’t going to waste the best catch of her life because someone had anxiety.

“When they all die, it’s your fault.” you mumbled, getting off the floor of her trailer and practically running out of the door.

“Come off your soap box, Dreamie!” Rose growled.

You were gone. But someone else was waiting at her doorstep.

“Rose, Walnut called. The sickness that took Flick? Barry has it.” Annie anxiously whispered.

Rose’s breath caught in her chest. The sickness? Flick had died of old age, exasperated by heart conditions, not a sickness. But that was a lie too. For a week now, members of the Knot had been waking up with red spots on their bodies. Walnut had brushed it off as a skin condition from the bad showers, but privately he had told Rose a different story. The Knot was sick, they needed steam. Steam from a young, healthy, vaccinated child like Abra. Chicken pox was his diagnosis. And the True Knot weren’t healthy enough to withstand it.

←→

A night later, Walnut called. Barry was getting worse. He was starting to cycle. The group was scared and facing the possible passing of one of their own. There’d be no time to delay, they needed to work fast, leading Crow to split up and take a more direct approach to the girl’s residence. For the first time since the invention of the interstate, Rose told her people to speed.

“Rose, Dreamie is asking for you.” Annie interrupted her thoughts.

Rose turned, smiling up at her longtime friend. The smile fell off of her face, landing on the floor like a glass dish. Her stomach lurched. Annie had a spot on her neck, a big one too. Giving a tighter, less genuine smile, Rose slipped out of her trailer. Dreamie was curled up in a camp chair. She looked cozy, in blankets. Rose’s mind was elsewhere, she had every reason to prepare for a fight.

“If you’re here to tell me-”

“I’m not.” you cut her off, looking up at her gently.

Rose let out a breath and then nodded. She motioned you up, sat in the chair and opened her arms. You were a comforting weight in her grasp, and you smelled faintly of sandalwood. You’d have another vision soon, not that Rose cared. What was more pressing was the weight of your body on hers leaving her feeling soft, a bit vulnerable.

“Spend the night with me.” Rose whispered. “No strings attached.”

Rose needed it. She needed the intimacy of a night with someone young, inexperienced.

“What about Crow?” you whispered back, face twisted into an anxious look.

Rose sniffed, letting out an annoyed breath. She’d had enough of your anxiety for three decades. But they were so close to getting it all, and Rose wanted it all. 

“Crow isn’t going to find out. One night, one.” she whispered, eyes glimmering with an unfamiliar softness.

God, what you wouldn’t give for one night. The teasing, the pet names, the sleep overs… And it wouldn’t be rough, judging from the look in her eyes.

“Okay.” you breathed out.

Rose smiled, kissing your temple. You both stood, her hand in yours, bare feet padding across the dirt of the campground. Her trailer smelled of incense which meant she’d been meditating extensively, probably astral projecting to ensure the troop headed to Abra was okay. There were a few candles lit, adding to the ambience.

“Come here.” Rose whispered, shutting her camper door. 

Her arms found your waist, her mouth on your neck. She was so damn tall, and soft. Soft everywhere now that she was aging. You liked her soft, it was comforting.

“Lay down on the bed for me.” Rose whispered.

You complied, walking backwards, meeting her blue eyes. Your thighs hit the bed, and you scooted, backward, laying flat over her comforter. Her mouth was on yours, lips soft, tempting, and tongue flicking out to taste you throughout the kiss. After every kiss she’d give a soft hum, her fingers lazily slipping under your shirt to caress the skin underneath. Her fingers were soft, and she gave a sly grin, shifting her hips to straddle you further. Your arms tangled in her hair, enough to tempt her into removing the topper. She did, leaning further into the kiss. You would’ve thought someone like Rose wouldn’t like soft, wouldn’t find the moments of drawn out foreplay and intimacy worthwhile. You were wrong, so so wrong. Her mouth on your neck, her hands grasping you tight, bodies tangled like pretzels. This was right, this was the moment.

←→

An early morning call awoke Rose. It was from Walnut. She was on the phone for thirty seconds, and then her hands were wrapped around your waist. “Wake up, wake up!” Rose said, distressed. “Wha..”

Her hands were everywhere, lifting you up, throwing open the curtains to illuminate your body. She ran her hands over every inch, skimming every mark, every mole, every soft stretch mark. Rose didn’t relax until she was sure you didn’t have a single mark. 

“Oh, thank god.” Rose almost wept with relief, clutching you tight.

“Rose, what’s happened?” you asked, now wide awake and worried.

“The Knot has chickenpox. It killed Barry.”

Your body tensed. You’d never told Rose about the vision you’d had of Barry. “Chickenpox? Chickenpox can’t kill-”

“It doesn’t kill rubes. We aren’t rubes, Dreamie.” Rose growled out. “And if we don’t find a cure it’ll kill all of us.”

All of us? 

“Rose, I was vaccinated as a kid.”

Her expression tensed, and then relaxed. But then she frowned, a furious expression on her face.

“That’s because you’re young. Spoiled by modern medicine.” she spit.

You reached up, cupping her face. Rose was lashing out because she was scared, and upset. One of the Knot had died. Her family had died. You leaned forward, kissing her forehead. Rose didn’t cry, but she reached forward, cradling you tight.

“Thank god you’re vaccinated.” she whimpered.

←→

The Knot didn’t take Barry’s death well. There was a bit of hysteria, hysteria Rose struggled to calm. She leaned on you more and more, spending her nights tangled up with you in her sheets, an escape from her stress, from the hunger that was starting to claw at everyone’s throats. She had gray hairs again. Her crow’s feet were pronounced, skin starting to go scaly from sun damage. You didn’t love her any less, taking time to appreciate every bit of her changing body in between the bursts of passion. You aged too, turning from 17 to 21, almost 22. It wasn’t much of a difference, you were already quite young for a Knot member. But the hunger was awful.

“My joints ache, I’m going to take a shower.” Rose sighed, rolling out of bed.

She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your sleepy face. You smiled, watching her pull on sweats and a shirt before grabbing some things. She meant the camp showers. They had a bit more space than her RV stall, you couldn’t blame her. The heat was more consistent too. You went back into a blissful sleep. It was broken fifteen minutes later when you heard a scream.

Half dressed in a pair of panties and an oversized shirt, you were running out of Rose’s trailer, bolting through the campsite in the direction of the scream. It was Rose, crumpled in Annie’s arms in front of the shower, sobbing in confusion and anger. Her towel was sagging.

“Rose, Rose.” you whispered, kneeling down and helping to cover her.

Her hands landed on your shoulders. An image burning forward. Gunshots, cycling, a smoke filled campsite.

“They’re dead. Everyone is fucking dead.” she sobbed.

You’d made it to the steps of her trailer before she collapsed against the steps, wailing like the dying.

“Crow!”

An image flashed through your mind, fear and pain as the vertebrae of your neck compressed, body flying through the windshield. Everyone had died, just as you’d predicted. Rose hadn’t listened.

←→

“That the last of it?” Annie asked, out of breath.

“Yeah, just two boxes.”

You were busy packing your things into Annie’s and Diesel Doug’s truck. In the days following the death of eight of the most prominent True Knot members, chaos had erupted. People packing their bags, convinced death was on their doorstep. The chickenpox was taking someone every other day now. Everyone was running, everyone was fleeing. You were leaving for a different reason, more personal. Rose had lashed out at you, blaming the entire loss of the crew on you. Rose insisted that if she had known that the visions were serious she would’ve called back the team. Your visions were serious, she just hadn’t listened. More fighting, more name calling, more discord. 

“I’m sorry Rose treated you that way.” Doug sighed, shifting the car in gear. “We’re all grieving, but treating you that way was a shitty thing to do.”

You nodded once, sneaking a glance in the rearview. Rose stood in front of her trailer, arms crossed, top hat balanced on her head. You could feel her thousand yard stare from here.

“You’re gonna die out there, Dreamie.” you heard a voice crawl through your ear, invasive and almost wet feeling.

“Well at least I won’t die alone.”

A phantom sensation cracked through the bones of your face, like you’d been slapped. You let out a choked cough, catching Annie’s attention. 

“I’m fine, choked on my own spit.” you mumbled.

“Bitch.”

You didn’t get a response. You figured she was saving the last laugh for later.

The drive into the Montana mountains was rough. Snow was starting to fall.

“You had to take the Denver route?” Annie groaned. 

“Who the fuck goes through the rockies at this time of year? It would take days!” Doug growled.

They were both irritable, both covered in red spots. You were in denial this time. If they died you really would be alone. Maybe that was Rose’s last laugh. The three of you settled into the hotel, Doug and Annie in a king bed, you in a twin pullout. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, and you sure as hell couldn’t sleep. An overcoat on, boots crunching through the gravel, you set out to explore the area around the hotel. 

You felt a bit dizzy, probably from the altitude. Sitting on a boulder for a bit didn’t help, deep breaths of cool mountain air just made you feel sicker. Your ears began to ring, and that’s when it all added up. You were ready to brace yourself when-

“My, my. What a temper you have.”

You were speaking through Rose, a man’s flushed, pained face underneath her as Rose batted away his arms like he was nothing but an overgrown toddler.

“So much fire. Such a waste.”

You could feel Rose’s anger, her hatred for this man. You recognized him, he’d shot a few of the True Knot at the Teeny Town campsite. And his stare was so familiar.

“Or maybe not.”

It was horrific, this vision. You could feel everything Rose was doing, her sighs of delight as she ate the man’s steam, her thumb in his thigh. Rose was cruel, but this cruelty made your stomach churn in knots. 

“Oh, you’re not alone in there.” Rose breathlessly gasped. “What are you hiding? What’s in those?! Something special, huh?!”

That disgusting, inescapable feeling of dread clawed through you. It was impossible to speak in visions, but you wanted to. You wanted to scream. You could see the boxes as she saw them, alive and vibrating. They were full of darkness, and in Rose’s haste she wasn’t inspecting the aura, she was ravenous for food, for blood.

“They’re not special. They’re starving.”

The vision was a blur from there. Horror, fear, pain as Rose was eaten alive. You awoke on the ground of the hotel reception room, gasping for air and shaking.

“She has these seizures, poor dear.” Annie was tiredly explaining to the frightened hotel receptionist.

You didn’t let them give you juice. You didn’t let them feed you. There wasn’t time.

“I need the car.” you gasped to Diesel Doug. “Stay here.”

←→

The drive up into the mountains of Colorado was awful. You’d been taught to drive in the snow three years earlier by Jimmy Numbers, but this was something else. You’d loaded up Diesel’s trusty all wheel drive truck up with gas at the final station, filling up both tanks with diesel. You were driving up the mountains at night, hands glued to the wheel. Rose would be proud of you, pinpointing the location of the vision through memory alone. But this wasn’t about being proud.

The lights of the Overlook were on. You didn’t have time. Rose’s trailer was parked outside, you didn’t have time! You turned off the car, leaving the keys in the ignition, doors unlocked. It was so cold up here, one of the doors was frozen shut. You didn’t have time to break through the door, so you made the next best decision, breaking through a window with an axe. It was boarded up but the wood had rotted, giving you enough bend to punch through the wood with the butt of the axe. There were voices, not from people. The same darkness of the man’s boxes lingered here, and the whispers added more adrenaline to your movements. The hallways were mazes. It felt like this stupid hotel was trying to confuse you, to trap you here. It wanted blood, it knew you were hindering its meal.

“... I seem to have nicked your femoral artery. Gonna bleed to death, huh?”

You knew that voice. Well. A kid darted by you. Jet black hair, dark skin. Abra.

“You’re…” she stammered, backing away.

“I’m not here for you. Go.” you snapped at the little girl.

You turned, following the direction she’d come from. A large hall came into view, stairs descending downwards. Rose was crouched over the man, voice echoing. You attempted to step down the stairs, but there was some kind of force keeping you there, confusing you. Why did you even want to go down there in the first place? No, you were here for the little girl, weren’t you? Because you’re hungry. The woman at the bottom of the stairs is hungry too. You can’t let her catch the girl before you do, you’ll go hungry.

There was something you were forgetting. You looked down at the woman below you, confused. She was gasping in pleasure, feasting. You were so hungry too. You saw where the little girl had gone too. You knew where she was. No. No, the woman was important. You could feel it, an unmistakable, annoying little scratch in your brain. You were close to remembering something, almost like you were trying to remember a dream.

Dream! No. No. Dreaming? Day dreaming? Dream… Dreammmmmm……. 

Dreamie. Rose, the vision, the hotel. The tricks of the hallways, the bad aura. It all connected in your brain.

“.... Not special. They’re starvi-”

“NO!”

In your haste to get to Rose, you have walked, half slid down the stairs. There were about ten figures between you and Rose. All reaching all starving, all grabbing, all-

“The girl is in the maze.” you gasped. “She has more steam than all of us combined.”

The figures jerked, each turning to look at you with a peculiar, inhuman hunger. If the Knot were vampires, these were phantoms. Demons of the night, more deadly, more encompassing. The kind of dead that don’t stay dead.

“The maze. A girl named Abra.” I gasped.

They pushed forward at once, nearly stampeding you in their haste to eat. The man was heaving, reaching for the ax. You kicked him in the ribs, hard. Rose lay on the ground, crumpling in on herself, red dots crawling up her arms in accelerated fashion. The dead had taken much of her steam.

“Rose, Rosie.” you gasped, reaching for her.

She looked skeletal. It was the kind of skeletal that a True Knot took on before they started cycling.

“Steam.” she  weakly pointed to the man.

And you both were starving.

←→

Rose sat in a camp chair outside, feet propped up. She was soft looking, back to the usual look she got in between feedings.

“Mmm…” she hummed, twitching slightly.

“Crook in your neck?” you asked.

“More like an itch.”

She looked up, holding her arms out. 

“Let me see my beautiful girl, hmm?”

You smiled, curling in her lap. Tilting her head back, she exposed her jaw. You took the bait, nibbling softly as she sighed in contentment.

“I’m itching to open a canister.” Rose smirked. “Get nice and full, spend the night in the sand…”

She was getting old again. And the spots were coming back.

“Rose, can we try the siphoning method?”

She rolled her eyes.

“The pox spots only show up when I haven’t eaten. They go away once I’m full.”

You leaned in, nuzzling your nose against hers.

“It can’t hurt to try.”

Rose sighed, and then nodded. You both arose, walking into her trailer. She took out one of the canisters. You’d filled it with the spirit of the Overlook twins after they’d fed from Abra. It was easy enough, coaxing out the spirits. They’d gorged themselves on the little girl, ripped her to shreds, practically. Open up a canister that had a tiny bit of steam, and they’d pounce, only to be sucked inside with the vapors of steam. That’s all these spirits were, after all. Steam with a bit of bite. They tasted good, too.

“Alright, do you want to do the ritual?” Rose asked.

“You’re Irish is better than mine.” you smiled softly.

She nodded, holding your hands in hers.

“Meabhair, suaite, gortú” We are the chosen ones.

“Wounder rúnda, gortú” We are the fortunate ones

“I ngach slí gortaithe” We are the True Knot and we endure. What is tied can never be untied.

You took deep breaths of the steam in, filling your lungs with the haunted essence of the twin girls. Once the entire can was bubbling in your body, you reached forward, breathing the steam that had now become your essence into Rose’s awaiting mouth. In theory, you were breathing your own essence down her throat. Your vaccinated essence.

Her lips found yours once you were done, her hands tangled in your hair as she kissed you hard. She tasted like the blackberry mojitos you’d made an hour ago, tongue rolling over yours.

“I love being alive with you.” Rose moaned, half pulling, half dragging you out of the trailer. She was young again, twenty seven, shimmering and panting with desire.

“Rose!” you giggled.

Her hands ran under your skirt, grabbing your thighs mischievously.

“It is broad daylight.” you snickered.

“And I don’t see anyone around, do you?”

She took an inhale of your hair, catching a whiff of an aura hanging over your head.

“Dreamie, no seizures.” Rose playfully warned.

“Shh. It could be a Big One.” you winked.

It was a new year’s celebration, anyway. A new year, a new decade. Twenty-twenty. Something about those numbers screamed food, or more so, misery. But for the True Knot, misery was food, death and destruction was food.

Tag List: @bjoerkumlaut, @lovelyy-moonlight, @coffee-is-my-oxygen, @appparadox407, @ilovehotactresses, @marvelwomenrule

[juuuulez]

i sound rlly weird asking but can u make a part two of the jerk!ng off head cannons for carl 😇😇

literally of course my man ALWAYS deserves to feel good

this is short and sweet, also strayed away from headcanons and did a little bit of a fic….actually loved writing this

NSFW under the cut, all characters depicted are 18+, MDNI.

It was a hot summers day in Alexandria, resulting in a group of teenagers making their way down to a nearby lake, intending on cooling off and having some fun.

Usually, Carl considered himself more… mature than his peers. There was a war actively brewing, and that’s not to mention walkers, so he didn’t see the value in such a meaningless activity.

Yet, you’d convinced him to come.

“Please, Carl. It’ll be fun!” You’d pleaded, “What else were you gonna do all day? Read comics?”

At the time, he’d protested, made some excuse that he was helping his father. But he wasn’t, and you were right.

So here he was, sitting on one of the large rocks lining the lake, flannel still cast over his shoulders.

The few other teens, yourself included, were enjoying the cool reprieve from the heat. Splashing around, throwing handfuls of sand at each other.

Carl was trying his hardest not to look at you.

Now, he’d never actually seen.. so much of a woman before. Sans those lewd comics, but this was different.

Your bikini was tiny, spaghetti straps wrapping over your shoulders, little triangle cups covering a portion of your breasts. Though the bottoms didn’t match, they were equally small, riding up your ass cheeks and showing a sliver of your inner thighs.

“Carl! Come in!” You’re suddenly calling out to him, which immediately draws his gaze. There’s no avoiding it as you tread closer, propping your elbows up onto the rock that he’s sitting on.

It only squeezes your breasts together, presented nicely in the frame of your arms. Sitting there, waiting.

He forces himself to maintain eye contact, not wanting you to pick up on his obvious disarray. The flush of his cheeks, or the way he squirms a little under the attention. “No, I’m alright.” He excuses.

But you won’t accept this, your grin widening as you hoist yourself onto the rock, coming to sit next to him. “C’mon, you’ve gotta chill out a bit, sometime. Taking a quick dip in the lake isn’t gonna hurt anyone.”

As you speak, your wet skin brushes against his flannel, the contact only worsening the flood of emotions that Carl is experiencing. It’s too much, too quickly, the presence of a pretty, dripping wet, girl is too much to handle.

The sun shines down through the trees, reflecting off your water-coated skin and hair, making it shine. Little droplets slip down your curves, and his eyes fall to one in particular, travelling down the open valley of your breasts.

“I’m going to check the perimeter.” Carl quickly says, swiftly standing up and turning away from you, not wanting to spare another glance at your body. It’s too tempting. That, and a shameful blush makes it’s way to his cheeks, his own body reacting to the contact in a way he’d rather you not realise.

He trudges past the treeline, out into the expanse of forest that circles the lake. It’s not too far off from Alexandria, in fact, he can just see the walls from this distance.

Carl wants to stay, he really does. Anything to put that smile on your face, where you’d say his name in that happy tone, completely enamoured by the smallest thing.

But he’s got a problem to deal with.

He leans against a tree, the thin flannel acting as a barrier between his back and the bark. There’s an obvious tent in his swimmers, poorly hidden due to the loose material.

“Fuck..” Carl curses under his breath, a little annoyed that he even has to do this. It doesn’t feel leisurely, but a chore, an irritating burden that needs to be solved before he can go have fun with everybody else.

So he takes another look around, making sure the area is clear before snaking his hand underneath the waistband, letting his fist wrap around his half-hard cock. A few strokes brings it to its full length, already hot and throbbing, where he can pull it free.

This isn’t the time to draw it out, so Carl clamps one hand over his mouth, the other working feverently to jerk himself off, as quickly as possible.

Yet, he can’t help but fall into a pleasurable rhythm, eye falling closed as he savours the feeling. His mind wanders, curious as to what you’d think of him now, doing something so lewd with no privacy.

It causes embarrassment to well in his gut, but it only fuels his desire, squeezing his hand a little tighter around his length, thumb collecting the precum from the tip only to spread it back down.

Each time his mind lingers too long on you, in that tiny bikini, he can practically feel it oozing out of him. Desperation floods his veins, now more focused on cumming, a reality that isn’t far away now that his brain is filled with images of you, on your knees before him.

What would your mouth feel like? Your hands? Would you take it slow, drag it out, or were you more of a quickie person?

Eventually Carl’s mind lands on you with your mouth open, plump lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. He similarly stimulates the swollen head, groaning into the back of his hand as he finally shoots his load onto the forest floor.

The pleasure begins to subside, ebb away, but the embarrassment stays. Though he takes a moment to compose himself, try and regain his footing, when Carl finally comes back to the lake, it’s quite obvious the boy is in some state.

There’s tree bark in his hair.

You smile, finally coaxing Carl into the water. He still doesn’t look at you, all embarrassed and flushed. This time, you make a point to lean as close as possible, to stroke your hand up his arm, let your thighs touch under the water.

How long will he last this time?

[mamasplat]

i was on vacation- the aggression chart???? lmao

nicee 👍👍 loving the work

also the themed playthroughs seem fun :)

Oh I’m having a great time with my true calem run, just got through shalour city

And while I’ve yet to piece together the aggression chart I will use this as an opening to break down the relationship chart that started as an unholy consequence of me trying to fit calem into anime plots

Starting from the top:

Shauna having feelings for Calem is something that is laid on very thick in the firework scene. Anime wise I almost linked Shauna to Serena too but I ended up backing off the idea because I was lacking evidence.

Tierno, i don’t think i need to explain this much if you’ve watched the anime, his crush on Serena was something he was very open about.

Miette, I actually don’t think she had a thing for Ash, like at all, she does not try to pursue him at all in the anime she just likes to talk about it, it’s a tool to get under Serena’s skin. But that alone would make her a valued piece of the unholy love triangle amalgamation so I added her to the chart.

Calem, specifically, Rival Calem: okay I think I need to explain this one a little more blatantly. Calem’s character arc cannot exist without Serena. His entire journey is dedicated to her mere existence, and pokemon masters really hammers home how important she is to him. She is the blueprint to his every move and step forward because in his mind she deserves better than he can offer so he will fight to be better. The way he talks about her when she isn’t around is unapologetic admiration and I cannot ignore the writing on the wall. He likes her. He’s got it bad.

Serena, specifically anime Serena of course. Her emotional attachment to Ash isn’t just surface level like Tiernos attraction to her, being around Ash gave her the courage to be herself, to stand up to her mom and make her own future, to keep going even when she’s lost and lost hard. She used Ash as a moral compass to keep her head in the game and that only strengthened her connection to him. The end of the series kiss scene was far from unwelcomed, it was over due.

Ash….this boy is oblivious as shit. I’m sorry Serena was not sly nor slick she fumbled at every turn and you STILL didn’t know??? I and from what I can see, many other fans, have come to the only conclusion that Ash just doesn’t do romance. He has ignored so many clear cut love interests and left them one sided because he doesn’t recognize or want romance. He just wants to be the best like no one ever was, love isn’t on his mind, therefore he is clueless to the love induced war going on around him. He is an unintentional ladies man.

And ALLLL of that is just the information i collected from rewatching the whole of X&Y while also replaying through pokemon X and ALSO going through pokemas events. Its all connected, i haven’t done anything else with my free time, its all kalos baby. ALL KALOS.

Blame Pokemon ZA being announced (I say as if I hadn’t started this before that)

[pommpuriinn]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪. 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉’𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒, 𝑒𝓈𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜 2

｡𖦹°‧ pairing ｡𖦹°‧ - idol!yeonjun x superstar!oc x idol!jungkook

｡𖦹°‧ synopsis ｡𖦹°‧ - a love triangle between Hollywood’s sweetheart, Korea’s golden maknae, and Gen Z’s IT boy. Estrella is a very busy woman never had time dating with all her photoshoots, movie offers, recording sessions, dance practices, and public appearances. As she’s doing a little world tour promotions for her latest mini album ‘You & Me’, and let’s just say that stop last a little longer and it becomes a little too interesting.

Italics = korean

Interview outfit | makeup | hair | nails

As Megan, Sana, and Daya watch their little star do her interview with the very popular Yoo Jaesuk. “She’s doing so good.” Sana whisper yelled into Daya’s ear. Sana just wants to squeeze Estrella’s cheeks and tell her she’s doing a ‘good job!’. “Shh, she’s about to start talking.” Daya shrugs Sana off of her.

“Yeah, um during 2022 I only release a mini album because I was really busy acting in movies and walking down the runways for all the brands I worked with.” Estrella answers one of the female mc question. “You were so busying how did you have time to record your songs.” Jaesuk was amazed at Estrella’s schedule. “Let me try and answer in Korean.” Everyone was excited hearing Estrella speak their native language. “Right after filming I would go to the company and spent like 4 hours r-recording and producing. Or I would record on…” Estrella looks at Megan asking for help through her eyes. Megan got the memo and mouthed the words to her.

“How cute~” the female mc cooed. “Ah, ah ok! I recorded some on my phone during the filming breaks too and yeah.” Estrella laughs at herself. “I sound like baby.” She covers her face with her hands feeling embarrassed. “No, no you speak good!” Jaesuk attempting speaking English to make Estrella feel better.

They moved on and talked about how Estrella trained like a kpop trainee and how it amazes them that a western artist trained like that. Along with asking if she could sing a bit of ‘Eleven’ because her voice sounds so heavenly. “Of course I’ll sing for you.” Estrella lightly cleared her throat before starting.

🎵but then he showed up unexpected out of blue, saying all these things that I already thought I knew,

yeah, he got the physical I want it all for real, but honestly, what I love the must is how he makes me feel🎵

The room cheered for Estrella, “thank you.” She instantly feels embarrassed again. “Woah, her voice sounds like a siren.” the female mc gasps. “I got goosebumps!” Jaesuk shows his arm. “Once again thank you for coming to Korea and you need to try my recommendations because Korean food is really the best.” The female mc plead making Estrella giggle. “I-I will.”

“We will cheer you on during your promotions and please come back Estrella-ssi.” Jaesuk smile towards Estrella making her ‘awe’ and place her hand over heart. “Thank you for making me feel welcome, and I will make sure the next we see each other my Korean will be better.” The room laugh, as the three hugged each other before signing out. Before fully heading out the two mcs and Estrella took pictures and properly said their ‘goodbyes’.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

Fans were waiting outside the studio with their phones and huge cameras ready. The second Estrella stepped foot the fans got even closer. “Woah, woah back up everyone!” Estrella’s security place their hands outward making the fans step back. “Unnie! You’re so pretty!”

“Unnie you did well today!”

“Make sure to eat and rest a lot!”

“Pose unnie!”

Estrella tried her best to thank and listen to everyone, completing hearts, and posing her their cameras. She knew that the people with hugs canon cameras were fansites, she didn’t know if they were specifically dedicated to her. But who cares because she definitely gave them all the right poses and even more, since back at home her fansites were the paparazzis and they LOVE Estrella. Estrella is known to eat up the camera and the people live for it, especially the paparazzis.

Once getting into the car fans still tried talking to her in front of her window which she rolled down. “Um…make sure to e-eat well and…oh! Get home sa-" Estrella was trying to think what was ‘safely’ in Korean. “Ah! Safely, get home safely. Bye bye~” Estrella rolls up her window still waving ‘bye’. “I really need to study more.” Estrella huffs, as she slouches in her seat. “When we get to the hotel I’ll pull out the books.” Megan teases Estrella while petting her head. “Before we do let’s stop at a convenience store to get snacks!” Sana chimes in from the back.

The team may have went a little overboard with the snacks, but who can blame them. They don’t have any of this back at home so they must try as much as they can. “Oh! Is this the alcohol?” Estrella hit the Soju section. “Yeah, want to try some?” Megan asks, while scanning through the flavors. “We should get the fruity flavors.” Sana points. “Let’s gets these four then.” Estrella and Sana each got two bottles. “Ok let’s go before you guys empty out the store.”

As they placed everything on the cashier’s table they notice how the cashier couldn’t hold in her excitement when she saw Estrella. “Oh I’m a big fan!” The cashier spoke in English. “Really? Thank you.” Estrella smiles and gave a little bow to the cashier. “Can you sign this receipt for me please.” The cashier placed an old receipt with a pen. “Sure, what’s the name?” Estrella was making the cashier girl blush with her eye contact. “Heemin.” Heemin was now hiding her smile with her hand covering. “I also plan on going to your music bank promotions.” Heemin adds. “Oh really? I’ll make sure to look for you then.” Estrella hands back the now signed receipt. It didn’t really take long for Heemin to scan their items and bag them, and once she handed over the last bag she gave everyone a quick bow, “thank you again for the autograph!”

“No problem, I’ll see you Heemin~” Once the coast was clear Heemin did what any other fangirl would do and do their little freak out moment because they got to meet their favorite artist.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

Back at the hotel all the girls did their night time routine and all gathered to Estrella’s room to gossip and eat their snacks. “I almost forgot! Estrella look, I’m going to tell you this now before anything happens ok?” Megan fully turned to face a confused Estrella. “There will be pretty good looking guys aka idols, and they most likely will try to talk to you but not in front of their fans. Because they will literally be crucified by their female Korean fans, not all but a good bunch. I’m not saying don’t talk to them, but just keep an eye out.”

“So don’t date any?” Daya asks. “It’s just there’s some eyes that we don’t see watching those particular idols and they mostly likely make false claims, and always make the women the bad guy.” Megan explains. “Ah, the double standards.” Sana nods. “Exactly and I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Megan holds Estrella’s hands. “Don’t worry. I understand Megan.” Estrella knows that Megan only means good by this. “Would you get love letters from idols Meg?” Sana gasps. “I mean,” Megan cockily flips her hair back and shrugs. “I got a few.” The whole group squeals at Megan’s attitude. “Shut up!” Daya jokingly pushes Megan’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t blame them though, Megan is a pretty girl and who doesn’t love pretty girls like us.” Estrella makes a point, causing the group to giggle. “Ok, ok we have to go to sleep. It may be a Saturday, but precious star over here has her first music program tomorrow in the morning.” Megan starts picking up the rappers off the floor. “Oh right. What’s it call again? Inki-inkigayo?” Sana asks while helping holding up the plastic bag for Megan to throw the trash in. Megan hums ‘yes’, “we have to run some rehearsals before the actual performances then perform about two or three times to get all the camera angles. Then do it again for ‘You & Me’ stage.”

Estrella groans and falls back on her bed, “it’s going to be so hard waking up!”

taglist»-♡→ @iveivory @jjkluver7 @lively-potter

[manias-wordcount]

i know its weird... but reader in a spike and vicious love triangle. please i need this lysm <3

Sharing is Caring (Spike Spiegel x Reader x Vicious)

𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗻𝗼 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗲𝗶𝗿𝗱 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲'𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗶𝗻 𝗷𝘂𝗹𝗶𝗮 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗺𝗲 ���𝗺𝗮𝗼. 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗱𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀, 𝗦𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗙𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀. 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!! 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁/𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀. 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗼

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks @pittbull-enthusiast @asuperconfusedgirl @rendartgrimson @skylardarling @sachimz @roronoaism @itzmymelody @myfangirlfanfiction @24hour-xixi

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Round, old, brown leather seats that stink of smoke and made sticky with your sweat and a little something else you think the workers forgot to clear before you, the new patron, took over this spot. The sound of a small live band playing light jazz over the bustle of conversations. A table full of empty shot glasses, a half-drunken Old Fashioned, and a well-used ash try. And, of course, Fearless’ Jericho, placed right where he can reach it in case something went wrong.

There was a part of you that always knew that you weren’t getting yourself in the best situation.

Everyone told you to stay away from the Underbelly of Mars. But that didn’t happen. Everyone told you to stay away from the Red Dragon Syndicate. But that didn’t happen either. But most of all, everyone told you not to get involved with brothers. Especially not those brothers. But to that, you say it’s not your fault for not really heeding that warning. Because they’re not really brothers, even though they say they are. So it doesn’t count, right? Right?

Who knows. And honestly, it’s far too late for you to care about specifics and technicalities. Because you’re already wrapped up in their little web. With no chance of running.

“Fearless-! Fearless not here!”

And no chance of hiding either.

“Mmm…” You feel the man in question hum against your skin, but he doesn’t bother taking his head away from your neck long enough to give you a proper reply. He just keeps on kissing your skin- kissing over the marks he just made with a tenderness you didn’t think the guy was capable of when you first met him. But he has a soft spot for you. They both do. “Just a little more, sweetheart. You know Vicious gets to have you to himself when he comes over here.”

At the mention of his partner, you let out a small whine. A whine that Fearless drinks up with a small chuckle of his own as he softly promises you that he’ll make sure the other man won’t go overboard tonight. You nod weakly at him, your mind is still buzzing with all the drinks they poured down your throat. But you’re still in enough control to feel embarrassed about what’s happening and the thought of people seeing. And, of course, the thought of things escalating once you become outnumbered.

In all fairness, this is far from the worst position one of the boys has put you in public. Because at the moment, there are no hands up your dress (yet) or tongues down your throat (yet). And nobody is currently whispering in your about the twenty-four-hour hotel they want to take you to just down the street once they’re done with the job they’re supposed to get done here (again, yet). 

In fact, right now, you can even consider yourself lucky that Fearless hasn’t begged you to start sitting on his lap before Vicious comes back. He knows you can hardly say no to those eyes of his. And he knows that Vicious is more than fine with such an arrangement. Because it allows Vicious to do exactly what he wants to do to you while taking advantage of the fact that he has his partner around to keep you from squirming a little too much for his liking.

Oh well. That’s what you get for choosing to entertain the affection of men who consider themselves brothers. That’s what you get for choosing not to decide between the two of them and asking if they could share. That’s exactly what you get.

If your old friends and family were to see you now, you don’t know what they would think. But you know they would have never pictured you in a booth tucked away in a seedy bar in a dress that can only be described as too short. Moaning helplessly as one of your lovers locks his arms around your waist and presses you close to his side so he can paint your neck with more hickies than you can count. All while you wait for your second lover to finish doing who knows what the one of the club’s backrooms.

And speaking of your second lover…

“Fearless,” Comes the sound of a gruff voice suddenly calling out the alias of the man currently attached to your side from just a few feet away. You recognize the voice instantly and find yourself sliding your eyes over to where the sound came from just in time to see and feel Vicious sliding into the booth on the opposite side of you, looking no worse for wear. Immediately, there’s a new arm snaking itself around your waist. One that’s a little more possessive than the ones belonging to their partner. One that physically tugs you away from the other man and into the newcomer’s side as his fingers come up to brush against the fabric of your dress that covers the underside of your chest. Teasing for both him and yourself that there’s more to come.

And despite the desperation he was showing earlier, Fearless ultimately relents and lets you go easily. No sly comment. No knowing look. Not even annoyed huff. Instead, he just backs off and reaches for the drink he started to neglect when the moment he realizes Vicious was the two of you alone for a long enough period for him to do some damage and takes a long sip, the leather seats of the booth creaking beneath him. Looking as calm and cool and collected as ever, except for the wrinkles in his dark suit and the even more messy look his hair has taken on. 

“Careful with her tonight, Vicious” You hear him murmur, a small smirk tugging at his lips once he finishes his drink. He puts it back down on the table with a small clink of the glass and meets your eye with a quick wink. “If you keep being too rough with her, she’ll be forced to pick a favorite. And we all know who she’d choose if it came down to it.”

His words come with a teasing lilt to them and a light laugh that you can just almost hear, even when it’s nowhere to be found. Fearless’ challenges always sound like that. They always feel like talking. Like all bark and no bite. But as you hold his gaze for a little longer, you can’t help but wonder if there’s a little something more behind that complicated gaze of his. You know he would never tell it to you straight. He and Vicious like to keep you and your “pretty little head” away from all their dirty business when they can help it. But this doesn’t feel like business. This feels like something you’re intrinsically involved with. And you’re not exactly sure how much you like the sound of that. Perhaps this is why people told you not to get involved with your brother. Especially these two.

Luckily, there’s a demanding little someone pressed into your side at the moment, reading to take your mind off of everyone and everything else but him.

“I’ll do what I want,” Vicious spits back at Fearless’ so-called challenge, before taking the arm he has wrapped around your torso and using it to grab your chin and turn your head in his direction. Immediately, your eyes are ripped away from Fearless’ soft brown-eyed stare to come face to face with Vcious’ hardened stare- half hidden behind his unkept, pale hair. And you can’t help but feel just a teensy, little bit scared. Because the soft spot Vicious has for you isn’t always as obvious as the one Fearless has for you. And because a soft spot, doesn’t inherently mean he’s going to be gentle. “Remember…she’s mine too.”

It just means you’ll always be his in ways that hopefully won’t hurt too badly.

And you find yourself riding on that hope the second Vicious draws you in for a deep, forceful kiss. It’s hard and controlling just a hint of need- like whatever he disappeared to do less than ten minutes ago wently badly enough for him to start feeling like he was missing you. Like he needed to claim you for himself again, even in front of his own partner. Even in front of the man he agreed to share you with all those months ago. 

Now, the grip he now has on your jaw is almost enough to be bruising. And the harshness of the kiss was enough to get you to squeak out in surprise before you were even able to squeeze your eyes close and follow his lead. Because there’s not much for you to say or do or even go when he’s pressing you against the back of the booth and tugging at your bottom lip with teeth that always bit a little too hard for you to keep yourself from being a little noisy. There’s not much for you to do except to be kissed and kissed and kissed so hard you start to feel dizzy as Vicious steals every last gulp of air you have left in your lungs.

But even though all of that, you still hear it. 

You still hear the soft, easygoing sound of Fearless’ casual “Of course,” in response to his partner’s words and actions. But as always, there’s a hint of something more there. Something that feels sharp and piercing, like a bullet from the gun still on the table. Something that reminds you that the men you’re dealing with now never go down without a fight. No matter what.

So the more you think about it, the more you realize that you should have heeded that advice. You should have been more careful. You shouldn’t have made such risky decisions. You should have stayed away from Mars’ Underbelly. You should have stayed away from the Red Dragon Syndicate. And most of all? You should have never gotten involved with them. You should have never gotten involved with men who called each other brother. Because you knew things were going to be complicated. Because you know no one could share forever. And because you don’t think that either of them will ever let you go. 

Not now. Not ever. And certainly, not without a fight.

[torialefay]

☀️ Everyday Idol 🌙 (Chapter 7)

✨ possible bangchan x reader (f), possible jungkook x reader (f)

✨ head on over to my masterlist if you haven’t checked out the previous chapters!

✨wc: ~5.7k

✨ friends to lovers? possible love triangle? obsession? angst and future smut??? a little fluff.

✨ summary: JYP Entertainment launches a new show and y/n somehow gets recruited. Even though she doesn’t particularly care about the outcome of the show, she does particularly care about one of the artists she met: Chris from Stray Kids. Does Chris feel the same or will a potential relationship with one of his friends overcome what y/n feels for him?

✨ warnings: cursing from time to time, smut!!!! 🔞

Previous Chapter Recap:

‘You really have to tell her, Chan. You wrote a whole song about her and you had the chance then, but you didn’t take it…’

He thought about the reason you ended up here.

‘No, it was a good idea to wait. Not tonight. Not while all of this other shit is going on for her.’ He thought back to the story that you told him. How Jungkook, his own “friend”, was now watching you- no, stalking you. And how HE was the one who had introduced him to you.

He felt his blood begin to boil, thinking of how scared you looked while telling him about all of this. Who the fuck did Jungkook think he was? He’s apparently a stalker, so what else was he hiding?

Chan wouldn’t let himself start to think of what could have happened had Changbin not been there. Things may have been okay… Maybe he would have just tried to hang out with you more… Or maybe not. You were drunk after all. If he had the right words, maybe he could have convinced you to do other things.

It took everything within himself for Chan to blink away the thoughts and the visions and come back with a clear head. He didn’t want to think about that. He wanted to live in this moment. With you.

He slowly opened his eyes to look at your still face. He loved the little quiver on your lip as it was smooshed up against the couch. He couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were. It took everything in him to not lean down and plant a kiss to your cheek.

Instead, he just nuzzled his head back closer to yours until your foreheads were barely touching. In the softest tone he could muster, he began to whisper.

“I won’t let him hurt you. I promise... I’ll protect you now.”

��————————————————————————————

Note: Character relations you can refer back to if needed.

Y/n- Changbin’s mentee

Anna- best friend, Felix’s mentee

Kara- Seungmin’s mentee

Sunnie- Han’s mentee

Mindi- Hyunjin’s mentee

Nisha- Lee Know’s mentee

Alyssa- Jeongin’s mentee

Jenna- Chan’s mentee

——————————————————————————————

Y/n’s POV:

You stirred awake to the feeling of your dry mouth and a raging headache.

‘Jesus,’ you thought, ‘I need water now or I’m going to die.’

But before you could even lift your head, the realization of where you were had set it. You’d fallen asleep leaning over on Chan’s studio couch, but by the light snoozing you heard, he must have done the same.

You slowly raised your head so as to not startle him. He looked breathtaking like this. Bare face all squished to the back of the couch, curls sticking out everywhere. He looked so peaceful and pure, almost like a small child. You took a moment to take in the sight of him. He was so so precious. And he was only here out of the goodwill of his heart too- probably watching after you after he had already so graciously offered to let you stay in his studio for a while.

Although you didn’t want to disrupt his peace, you also HAD to get up for a drink. You slowly started to peel your head and torso back, but you halted again when you felt the weight of Chan’s hand resting on top of yours. You looked down, and sure enough, his hand had moved to rest over yours in his sleep. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight and your face went red.

‘Well NOW I don’t want to move.’ You took a moment to contemplate if you could deal with laying your head back down for a while longer and pretend to sleep, waiting for Chan to wake up and see if he’d leave his hand placed over top.

‘You’re being so ridiculous, y/n. Chris doesn’t like you like that. If he did, he would have said something last night. You gave him like 10 chances to say something about it and he never did. He played you a song about heartbreak for god’s sake and never once hinted to feeling anything. He’s a good FRIEND, and that’s all. You’ve got to stop reading into this and making it weird. You’re gonna freak him out and scare him off if you don’t stop thinking like this. He’s an amazing friend to have, and that will have to be enough,’ you thought to yourself.

You knew in your heart that no matter how much you wanted Chan to be into you, he wasn’t. He was just a good guy, and you weren’t used to having a guy like him in your corner. It was easy to fall for him, I mean look at him… but that’s how he makes everyone else feel too. You decided that it would be best to just push any feelings you had away- after all, you didn’t want to lose him as a friend and he could be really REALLY helpful for you during the show. You decided from that point on, no more stressing or worrying about boys. No more getting involved. You were here to have fun and make FRIENDS. That was it. And the more you talked yourself into it, the more you tried to be content. It was time to bury the hatchet and move on.

A minute or two later, your cottonmouth was so bad, you simply couldn’t wait any longer to get up. You ever so slowly moved your hand out from underneath Chan’s and pulled your body back, letting out a breath of relief when he didn’t stir. You headed straight for the lounge to chug some water and search in the cabinets for an aspirin. Satisfied that you now wouldn’t die, you felt the urge to pee and headed straight to the restroom.

After sitting on the toilet to relieve yourself, you grabbed your phone from your pocket (silently praying it still had some charge) so you could see if Anna had checked in. It was only 7:30 AM, so you weren’t sure who would have already been up this early on a Saturday.

Luckily you had gotten a text from Anna a few hours ago saying that she’d gotten back to the hotel fine and to come home ASAP to tell her what had happened. In very, verrrrry drunkenly misspelled words however.

Your heart sank as you saw a new message from Jungkook as well. With all the distractions from Chris, you’d completely disregarded your little “follower.” You looked down to check the message.

Only 15 minutes ago. ‘Well, at least one other person is awake. And possibly ready to see me. Cool.’ You huffed.

You quickly cleaned yourself up and flushed, going to the sink to wash your hands and assess your current makeup-everywhere, hair every-which-way situation. You had to admit, this wasn’t your best look. You silently thanked the gods that you’d woken up before Chan so he didn’t see you like this.

‘He’s your FRIEND, y/n. Your friend. It literally doesn’t matter.’ You shook the thought out of your head.

Once you’d patted your hands dry, you still took a few moments to wipe some of the makeup off your under eye and comb your hands through your hair.

Starting to feel a bit more human and awake, you knew you needed to go home soon and check on Anna. She wasn’t exactly known for being the most responsible drunk either. You still didn’t feel 100% comfortable walking back to the hotel though, so you decided you’d just order an uber and wait for it to pull up so you didn’t have to stand outside and hail a taxi looking like a slightly disheveled mess.

You quickly paid for the uber, which was only a few minutes away, and sent Anna a quick text that you’d be home soon and to let you know if there was anything she needed before you got back in.

You ran a hand through your hair one final time before heading back to Chan’s studio to thank him before you left.

~

When you arrived to his room, you didn’t bother knocking, as he was asleep anyway. Or so you thought.

As you swung the door open, you saw a bent-over Chan, still sitting on his couch with his shoulders slumped over and head in his hands. He was rubbing his hands back and forth between his hair and face, slowly shaking his head.

“Hey,” you whispered lowly with a shy smile. He sprang up almost immediately with a confused look on his face. Soon, the confusion turned into relief, and then embarrassment.

“Y/n! Hey. I got a little worried when I woke up and you weren’t here. I didn’t know if something happened or…” he trailed off, looking away nervously.

And admittedly, yes, it was a little awkward. How could it not be? You’d just, in literal terms, slept together. It’s a bit of an intimidating thing to talk about.

“Haha, no. I just needed to get some water. I’m surprised you’re awake,” you tried to sound normal, walking back over to the couch.

“Why? Was I drooling?” he laughed nervously.

“Noooo, you just looked so peaceful when I left!” you teased.

“Haha yeah, when I woke up it took me a minute to figure out what was going on. I must have been sleeping pretty good for once,” he turned red.

“Well I’m glad.” You decided to take a seat next to him for a moment so you could reach down and grab your bag off the floor. “I should probably head to check on Anna though,” you smiled to him, getting ready to say your goodbyes.

“Well, you don’t have to go so soon!” Chan quickly blurted out. “I mean- if you’re hungry- I could buy breakfast if you want? I know you kind of had a rough night so,” he smiled back.

What a total sweetheart. ‘He really is such a great FRIEND,’ you tried to convince yourself. But you’d feel way too guilty if Chan bought you breakfast too. Noooo, you owed him, not the other way around.

“That’s so so sweet Chan… But I would feel awful. You’ve already done so much for me. I mean you literally camped out with me here last night,” you tried to smile extra just to show him how grateful you were. “I owe YOU. How about I buy you lunch next week? Please? It would make me feel better about all of this.”

“You don’t need to feel bad about anything. I promise I don’t mind one bit. I mean if you’re hungry, I wouldn’t want you to-“ you cut him off.

“Chan, I know, I know. But… I’m okay. Thank you for the offer. Just please let me pay you back with lunch next week, okay?” You smiled sheepishly, hoping he’d accept the offer.

He threw his head back slightly. “Alright, if it would make you feel better,” he said jokingly.

“It would,” you breathed out a sigh of relief. “But I really do have to get going. I need to see how Anna’s doing.” You grabbed your bag and stood up.

“Wait, I can take you!” Chan reached out, letting his hand touch your arm. “Wouldn’t want you to have to walk back by yourself,” he jumped up off the couch. “I always drive here anyways, and I can just go straight home after, so it’ll work fine! If you want,” he gave you a shy smile.

‘God, why does he have to be so nice? He wasn’t making this easy.’

“Ah, I actually already ordered an uber that should be here any-“ you looked down to check the app, “in 2 minutes! Jeez, I didn’t realize.”

You could see Chan’s drop in his facial expressions. He looked a bit taken aback, and then moved his head to look down, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Thinking about it, you had to admit that you’d made it awkward. Slipping out of the room first thing and automatically getting an uber did seem a bit… “morning after” to you. And you felt terrible at turning Chan down when he was genuinely being the best friend in the world right now.

“But thank you SO much. For everything. I’m serious, I could never re-pay you. You’re the best,” you smiled, leaning in to give him a hug and hoping to ease the slight tension.

He awkwardly hugged you back, playing into the act. “Of course, of course. Just please be careful.” But he wouldn’t let you go out of the hug.

“Would you want my number?” he asked, finally breaking the hug and pulling back. “Just in case anything happens again.”

“Oh, yeah, that’d be great! Here,” you handed him your phone. “You can just put it in if that’s easier.” You watched as he typed the numbers in and sent a message to it so he could save your contact as well.

“All set,” you smiled, as you headed towards his heavy studio door. “And Channie, seriously thank you,” you saw his eyes light up when you used the nickname. “You really are the best, and I feel so lucky to have you as a friend.” You smiled and waved before letting the door close behind you. The last thing you saw was Chan shyly waving back, as well as the lonely packet of flower food still resting on his desk.

Felix was wrong. Chan had bought flowers for someone, but it wasn’t you. And as much as it stung to think about, it was the push you needed to keep your head on straight. He was a great friend. You were happy with that. Maybe as you got closer, he’d talk to you about who he’d really bought them for.

——————————————————

Once you arrived to the hotel, you were greeted by a half-awake Anna. You couldn’t help but laugh at the lipstick that had gotten smeared down one side of her face. Hopefully after she had gotten back.

Anna caught you up on all of her night’s happenings. She’d ended up staying at the restaurant and playing drinking games with some of the other new cast members until super late, then came home and crashed early this morning. She was definitely doing well considering she’d had almost no sleep.

You tried your best to explain your night to her in full detail, her jaw dropping at every other sentence. You knew it was a crazy story, but you hadn’t really had time to slow down and process just how INSANE it actually was. It made your stomach sick to think about.

“I promise you I’ll murder him,” Anna said, scooting into you.

“You can’t murder him, we don’t know how to finesse the Korean prison system yet,” you tried to joke, more so to trick yourself into not being scared than Anna.

“I’ll find a way…” she looked at you with raised brows that said ‘don’t tempt me.’

You just rolled your eyes, intending to drop the conversation. Pushing it out of your mind wasn’t exactly the best way to deal with it, but it was the choice you’d already decided on. You knew you wouldn’t be able to cope otherwise.

“It makes me feel better knowing Chan’s watching out for you though,” Anna smiled. “You know he has a crush on you, right?”

“He does notttt,” you tried to defend yourself.

“Oh really? Why did he make it clear he wasn’t into Jenna and literally SLEPT with you then? Felix told you he had bought flowers and you saw the flower food as evidence, y/n! Wake upppp, he is into you!”

“Woah woah woah! We didn’t SLEEP together. He slept next to me. For a few hours… But it wasn’t like that.”

You took a moment to contemplate before saying anything else. “Felix was wrong about the flowers... Like yeah, I’m sure he bought them, but he wasn’t giving them to me. They were gone, meaning he DID give them to someone. If he was into me, he had all night to make a move, but he didn’t. Because he’s into someone else… He’s just being a good friend. He’s good guy, and we’re not exactly used to those.”

Anna nodded slowly in agreeance. You both thought back to all the guys in your med school class and how 90% of them thought they were the hottest shit to ever walk the Earth. 7% were tolerable, 2% were friend-worthy, and 1% were actually really good guys. Chan would definitely be in that 1%.

“Alright, let’s move on from boy talk?” you half-asked, half-stated, your head starting to hurt again. “I think I need to order the most obscene amount of breakfast possible and then take a nap,” you sighed out, leaning your upper half back to rest on the bed.

An hour later, and that’s exactly what you’d done. You and Anna vowed to stay in for the rest of the night to recuperate. Just a day full of food, naps, and a movie marathon and pampering session.

‘Just what the doctor ordered,’ you thought, as you closed your eyes to drift off into sleep.

————————————————————

Chan’s POV:

Already in a slightly sullen mood, Chan let out a deep sigh of annoyance when he arrived back to his apartment to find all the members gathered there.

“There’s our little love bird!” Felix called out, as Chan took his shoes off, heart starting to beat faster. Small “oooh”s and “ahhh”s could be heard from the members.

Chan took off into the kitchen/dining room to stop Felix from going any further.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You can quit lying hyung, Felix told us you have a crush on y/n,” Changbin said, not looking well at all. “So you’re welcome by the way, for bringing her to you,” he winked and giggled.

Chan brought his arms out wide, palms up with a questioning expression on his face aimed directly at Felix.

“I didn’t mean to say it!” Felix tried to defend himself. “But when Changbin-hyung told us all what happened with Jungkook last night… well, it kinda just slipped out.”

Chan couldn’t tell if Felix was actually somewhat sorry or amused. Knowing Felix, it was a combination of both.

Chan just rolled his eyes, suddenly getting annoyed at the mention of Jungkook’s name. “Nothing happened with me and y/n, okay?” He walked past everyone to grab some food from the counter. By the sight of Han and Minho cooking, he assumed that at least Felix and Changbin were hungover as fuck, and that the former two were nice enough to make them all breakfast. At least this would be one good thing to happen today.

“What are you gonna say to Jungkook?” Seungmin asked as Chan loaded a second pancake onto his plate. Chan stopped and bit his cheek for a moment, pondering where to even start. No one dared to say anything while Chan looked like this.

“I don’t know yet.”

“I mean, what can you say?” Han laughed out. “‘Hey bro can you, uh- stop stalking girls?’” Han huffed out in a low voice, trying to imitate Chan’s accent in the process.

Han was right. Any way he could approach this would be weird. But also, he couldn’t just not say anything. His blood began to boil just at the thought of Jungkook watching you.

Chan rolled his head in a circle around his neck, trying to work the kink out from his previous awkward sleeping position.

“Like I said, I don’t know yet,” Chan finally replied back, as the rest of the members stayed silent, their eyes fixated on him to say anything more. Chan just filled his plate up, grabbed some utensils and some water, then headed to his room. He just wanted to be alone for a while and eat in peace.

Chan vowed to not do much for the rest of the day. He knew he probably should see someone or talk to someone, but he just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to put his feelings onto someone else. He really didn’t want to have to admit that he had the chance to talk to you about how he felt, but he didn’t take it. He especially didn’t want to admit that you’d almost borderline ghosted and rejected him this morning once you’d realized you’d slept right next to him.

Instead, after finishing his breakfast, he texted the members to let them know that he’d be in his room working on some music and to do as they please, but not to disturb him for the next few hours. Throwing himself into his work instead of dealing with his problems wasn’t Chan’s greatest habit, and he knew that. But damn if it wasn’t a productive one.

He couldn’t bring himself to continue his prior song. Just the fact of knowing that you’d now heard it, he needed to stay away from it for a bit. He decided that working on something totally new would be the best plan of action, throwing every emotion away and into what he was physically doing.

~

Before he knew it, it was hours later and his eyes were struggling to stay focused on the screen, going fuzzy from looking for too long. He knew he needed to get back to reality for a bit.

Taking his headphones off and placing them next to his keyboard, he checked his phone for the first time since he’d sat down. The SKZ group chat had been going off about 30 minutes ago. Apparently the boys were going to make use of their day off and have a game night in the younger members’ dorm. Chan decided that getting out of his room and seeing people would actually be a good distraction from any thoughts he could have. He quickly made his way to the bathroom to take a quick shower before heading over. He hadn’t showered yet today and he knew it would give him a quick refresh.

After letting the shower heat up, he stepped in and let out an instant sigh of relief as the warm water hit his hair and streamed down his body. He didn’t realize how cold he’d actually been. He stood there for a minute or two letting his hair soak in the water and just silently enjoying the the warm, enveloping feeling of the water around him.

That’s one of the reasons Chan would sometimes take a couple of showers in a day. It made him feel almost… safe? Like he was getting a warm hug back. Maybe he was just touch-starved, and he knew that. But when he was trapped in the hot steam around him, it felt like all of his worries just melted away. If he was really stressed or had a lot of pent-up anger, a good shower would always do the trick to help him relax.

He savored the way it felt when he ran his fingers through his hair, working the shampoo in gently. He always leaned his head back at the feeling of his scalp being rubbed gently. For a split second, he let his mind indulge in the image of you doing it to him. Running your small hands through his damp hair strands, tugging lightly as you went. Using the tips of your nails to make sure his head started to feel all tingly.

Chan quickly snapped his hands back, not letting himself drift his mind further into this. The more he thought about it, the more he knew he needed to be hesitant with you. Not only were you scared and hurting, but you’d left so quickly that morning. You had better things to do than to be with him.

Quickly, Chan started feeling guilty too. Disgusted with himself when he was slightly happy to hear that Jungkook had done something wrong. How your ties to him had been shattered. He was disappointed, too, that he’d been allowing himself, encouraging himself even, to become involved with you- a new JYP cast member that he was trusted to TRAIN. You probably trusted him too.

‘What kind of responsible person does that?’

Chan tried to shake the feelings off, focusing instead on cleaning the rest of his body. He let the lyrics of his recent songs play in his head, revising them mentally as he washed.

He tried thinking of anything to distract himself- wondering what game the kids were playing, if he should bring snacks over, which clothes were clean for him to put on and when he should do his next load of laundry.

But he couldn’t pre-occupy his thoughts too much. They always ended up coming back to you.

As he ran the soap around his lower half, he couldn’t help but wince at the thought of you you being the one to do it. You being the one to give him the touch that he so often craved.

He let his hands roam down to his balls, bringing soap along the way. He gave them a gentle squeeze and sighed at the sensation.

He imagined the way you’d looked the night before. When he came into the staff lounge and saw you for the first time that night. You’d been crying, sitting lowly on the ground. You were so pretty, such big, beautiful eyes looking up at him from your position on the ground, he thought. He pictured your tear-stained cheeks and how puffy your eyes were from your low cries. He thought about how pouty your lips were and how beautiful they looked when they finally had moved to form sentences. He wondered how they’d look wrapped around his cock.

Chan led his hand to his dick, giving it a good squeeze before beginning to pump himself. Slow and steady, just the way he liked it. He couldn’t help but make himself feel good, not when he was thinking about how pretty you were and how good he knew you could be for him.

Chan made moderate strokes, making sure to pull all the way so his hand would graze the tip of his cock before pumping back down. He let out a smallest whisper of a moan as he began to pick up the pace.

He imagined you sitting there like you had been, mouth now open and tongue sticking out for him. How you’d run your hand down his torso until it wrapped around him, giving him a few pumps before putting him in your mouth. How good your tongue would feel as it swirled around his tip, giving him one of the sweetest sensations he could ask for. How much pressure your mouth would give him once you finally started sucking on him. He wondered if you’d move your hand along with your mouth or if you’d leave it at the base of his cock to steady it for you. He thought about what you’d do with your other hand- if you’d give his balls light squeezes or if you’d keep running your hand along his body, giving him the reassuring pressure that you were enjoying every inch of him.

He felt his breathing hitch as he started to pump faster, picturing you giving him hard and fast strokes. You’d moan into him at the feeling of his dick hitting your throat and choke a little bit each time. He’d wrap his hand up into your hair to make sure you were going at just the right pace for him and you were taking him as deep as you possibly could. You could be so so good to him. Make him feel so good. So perfect. You’d work him up until he possibly couldn’t take it anymore. You’d look up at him with those same puffy, crying eyes and silently beg him to cum. And he would. Long and hard and right down into your throat. He’d cum harder than he ever had before.

And he was. He turned his imagination off as he felt himself begin to convulse the tiniest bit and shoot the white cum out of him without control. He moved his hand quickly, following out his high until there was nothing left.

He panted as he collected himself, leaning against the shower to slow his breath. He made sure to let the water run off any remnants of the cum that still resided on his hand. Chan just shook his head.

‘Fuck... I guess showers aren’t even safe now,’ he thought, getting frustrated with himself before turning the water off. He was hoping that at least the post-nut clarity would bring him to his senses. He just needed to go see the boys and stop all of this thinking about you. There was no point. All of this was a one-sided, warped, inappropriate fantasy. That’s all you would be allowed to be for him- his fantasy.

—————————————————————————

Y/N’s POV:

You and Anna had actually had a very fun night in. You’d both downloaded a truth or dare game to play on your phones and ended up laughing so hard that you cried. Anna almost peed on herself from laughing, but apparently, you were “never allowed to talk about it”… according to her.

You’d ordered in dinner, had a much-needed pampering session, and even practiced belting out a few karaoke songs, which your hotel neighbors did NOT appreciate. Overall, it had been a great night.

You and Anna had made plans with your friend group to meet up the next day for brunch. After that, you’d all planned on getting your nails done and just general upkeep before the show started the following day. You all wanted to put your best foot forward for the show, knowing this was the last time you would all have together before the craziness began.

One productive thing that you did manage to get done was to ignore JK’s texts all day. By the time night rolled around, he’d sent you three more messages, all asking if everything was okay and if something was wrong. You didn’t know what you should do. You weren’t going to answer him of course, but you also didn’t feel comfortable blocking him yet in case he sent something proving you weren’t crazy. Something tangible he’d send that you could use to prove he was an actual creep and could do something about it. Defamation laws were insane in Korea, and you knew that if you didn’t have anything to prove against him, you’d be deep in trouble. So you let the texts roll through. Surely he’d get the hint, right?

Anna had done a great job distracting you from it all day. But as you laid in your bed, all alone with only the pitch black surrounding you, you couldn’t help but start to think about each individual message. How scary it was that this man was still out there, thinking about you. You started to wonder if he’d get mad that you hadn’t responded. If he’d known that you’d seen him and he was trying to dance around it. What if he was outside, waiting for you to come to him right now?

You tried your best to blink away any of the thoughts you just didn’t want to keep. You made sure your phone was plugged in, on silent mode, and buried under a pillow to stop yourself from looking at or receiving another message tonight. You just wanted to get some restful sleep. You definitely wouldn’t be getting it again over the next couple of weeks.

Your mind went to Chan and the last words he’d left you with as you exited his studio this morning. ‘Just in case anything happens again,’ and his phone number. It crossed your mind for a few moments that maybe a text to Chan wouldn’t be the worst thing. I mean HE had been the one to ask if you wanted his number after all… He just had a way of making things better and saying exactly what you needed to hear. You felt like he could fix any problem or hurt feeling that was sitting with you with just a few words. And you could really use that right now, you thought.

You thought on it for a few minutes, letting your stomach flip upside down as you contemplated back and forth. On one hand, it would be nice to talk to Chan and actually feel better. On the other hand, you didn’t want to bother him… and you didn’t want to get attached. It was great that Chan had offered his help to you, but you decided that you should wait until you really really needed it. Not just in this moment to satisfy your own wanting of him.

So there you laid for the next hour, writhing in the feeling of wishing you could talk to someone that you knew you couldn’t have. Never did you think that less than 2 miles away, he would also be lying in his bed doing the same. You both finally let your eyes rest in the thought of the other’s presence.

————————————

You awoke in the morning to the sound of Anna’s voice trying to gently stir you awake. You guessed you’d forgotten to set yourself an alarm when you were all lost in your feels before falling asleep.

The two of you took your time in the morning to do your hair and makeup before getting dressed up. Nothing too fancy today, but you still wanted to look nice and put together. You always enjoyed getting ready with Anna in the mornings anyways. She was like you in that she preferred a soft start to her morning and would play light music while the both of you got ready in silence. You both enjoyed the soft music while you settled into the beginning of a new day. It was also a good way to keep you calm as you ignored the new text from Jungkook that has arrived this morning. Even if he’s a stalker, he has one thing going for him- he is persistent.

You looked down at your phone once you’d finished getting ready, seeing the time 10:40 AM flash across your home screen. Perfect. Just enough time to get to the brunch spot that Sunnie had picked out for the six of you- you, Anna, Kara, Sunnie, Mindi, and Nisha. You didn’t intend to leave the other two of the SKZ mentees out, but none of you had Jenna or Alyssa’s phone numbers to invite them. They hadn’t made any effort to give it to anyone… Hadn’t made any effort to talk with the rest of you either. Quite the opposite actually. You were content with your little friend group and knew you’d all just have to deal with the other two once filming started. You didn’t have to like them, you just had to get along enough to get through the next two weeks.

As you and Anna walked out the door and onto the busy streets of Seoul, you mentally thanked Sunnie for picking a restaurant that was in a central location, just down the street from the JYPE Building. You knew you wouldn’t have had fun walking much farther in your cute, low heels. There were a bunch of salons nearby, so it really was the perfect place to go if you didn’t have somewhere specific in mind.

You chatted with Anna as you made your way around the corner and down the final street to get to the restaurant. Passing by the JYPE building, you glared into the glass walls to see if you spotted anyone. It was a Sunday, so it was super unlikely, but you scanned the building anyway. Just as you turned your head back to focus on the street in front of you, you heard a familiar voice. Your heart dropped.

“Wait!”

‘It can’t be…’ you thought, feeling your heart beginning to quickly speed up again. You weren’t going to take the chance as you began to pick up your pace into a speed walk.

“Y/N, wait! Please!” Jungkook yelled in desperation, his voice following you.

——————————————————————————

✨ Continue to ➡️ Chapter 8

✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging <3

✨ i am beginning a tag list, so please let me know if you’d like to be added!

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Tag list: @lailac13 @freyjhasdesiredreality

[cowpokeomens]

Pas de Trois: Part One

Pairing: Reader x Noah, eventual Reader x Nicholas

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None! (Yet)

I was just thinking, like: Swans, right? But Noah and Nicholas. No beta we die like Odette and Siegfried!

It was as cold in the beginning as it was in the end.

You could pretend all you wanted- that the embrace of a not-quite lover could warm you enough to stay alive. But you both knew better by now. 

It starts the way it ends: at a pond. 

You need a breather from your mother and her love schemes. Something about a party at the Van der Whatever’s condo on the east side, the unwed men rumored to be in attendance.

All those years of safeguarding your virginity like a crown jewel, only to be whored out to the first eligible bachelor the second you turned 23 and expressed no interest in marriage. 

You roll your eyes at the thought of it; the idea of preserving your chastity whilst being surrounded by the scum of the earth in Bottega stilettos. It feels like you rub elbows with literal vampires most days: creatures that linger in the shadows, waiting to drain you of whatever they needed from you in that moment. 

At least Bela Lugosi never asked you about why you decided against Yale after your father’s hefty (and unrequested) donation. 

The air is crisp, biting at your cheeks as you walk. You wander into a familiar park near your apartment, the street lamps illuminating the freshly fallen snow in a gentle glow. All around you, trees creak and groan in the wind, as if they, too, were ready for spring again. It isn’t so secluded that you felt any real danger, but it was far enough away from the sounds of traffic to give your mind space to wander.

Faintly, you hear the sounds of people milling about on the street. There’s a theatre up the road- they’ve been hosting a ballet company performing The Nutcracker for the last month or so. Looking through the gaps in the bushes, you can spot a few people dressed in rich velvets and fur coats taking photos under the gleam of marquee lights. You haven’t gone to see The Nutcracker for years now. Your mother stopped taking you when you confessed that you did not have the talent- nor endurance- to be a real ballerina, the same time that she unenrolled you from dance classes altogether.

Humming Tchaikovsky's Pas de Deux to yourself, you meander through the park until you come upon a pond. A treasure in your heart, it’s a spot you come to often to clear your head- though this is your first nighttime foray. 

Longer than it was wide, the pond was not the most impressive in the city by a longshot. Most people didn’t even know of its existence, save the few dog-walkers who came through in the mid-morning and late afternoon. It was familiar, though, having been situated here as far back as your memory could recall. 

Winter crept over the small body of water in sheets of ice at the outer perimeter. If the temperature continued to drop (it would) the entire thing would be frozen solid by next week. As it was, the ice at the edges looked thick enough to hold up an entire person.

You fight back the melancholy this brings you, knowing the incoming freeze would take with it the many creatures that inhabit the pond. The ducks have long since left, flying somewhere further south, somewhere warmer. The fish have been awfully quiet the last few weeks as well, settling in for their winter rest. That really just left the-

Ah, You think, sounding hushed even in your head. There you are. 

They glide in silently, slicing through the water like moonlight. Long, graceful necks with great plumes puffing up behind them, the swans are pure magic in the stillness of the night. They make a triangle in the water, with four smaller fowl following the swan at the crest of the formation. Its dark eyes meet yours for a moment, and you feel so utterly vulnerable under its gaze that you look away, suddenly very interested in your shoes.

Must you be intimidated by everything? You sigh to yourself internally. Seriously, a fucking bird?

You felt silly as you built the courage to finally look back up, but the bevy had disappeared. Craning your neck around, you were halfway to considering searching for them on foot when a branch cracked behind you. 

Whirling around, your eyes scanned the tree line, pulling the mace on your keychain out with shaking hands. The neighborhood was safe, sure, but you weren’t stupid. A girl alone in a park well after the sun had set? Yeah, you’d seen the crime shows- no thanks. 

“Hello?” You call, your voice wobbling despite your best efforts. 

Another crack.

Your mace was up in an instant, poised and ready to fire. You are not a damsel in distress, you are certainly not going to be a statistic. As your heart pounded in your throat, a figure came into view. 

“Ew, there’s bird shit everywhere- Woah!” The stranger stumbled backwards, hands up in the air as he saw you. “Oh my god, please don’t tase me-“ 

“It’s not a taser.” Was, for some reason, your first response. Then, “Who are you? What are you doing lurking around in the dark?” 

His eyes went wide. “It’s a public park! I’m going for a walk!” 

Your eyes narrow, the hand wielding the mace never moving. “A walk? At 9:45 at night?”

Impossibly, his eyes grew wider. They were dark- familiar in a way you couldn’t fully place in your panicked state. The snow reflects off of them, reminiscent of starlight. “You are also in the park at 9:45? And you’re armed?”

Well, that was certainly a valid observation. You take two deep breaths, then lower the mace, though not pocketing it entirely. You spend a moment observing his appearance. 

He was tall- tall enough to be threatening, if he wanted to. Slim build, dark eyes, like you’d noted before. His hair was parted down the middle, brushing against the top of his cheekbones softly. He’s handsome, you think. Not the overly-manicured handsome you were accustomed to, though. He reminded you of the first dandelions in the spring; The delight you feel at seeing a living thing burst forth from the frozen ground, uncaring of if it's a weed or not. 

A huge sweater encompassed him, something light in color and soft-looking. The sleeves poked out of the arm holes of his jacket in a strange way, as if it took a great deal of work to stuff them in there in the first place. A hat topped it all off, giant pom-pom bobbing at you in a way that was far from menacing. 

“That’s a weird hat to wear while you creep on people in the park.” You quip, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

His mouth drops open in shock. “My grandmother made me this, fuck you very much. And it’s winter! Of course I’m wearing a hat. Are you always this bad with logic and reason?”

“So you don’t deny creeping?” You ignored his question. 

The face he gives you would have been comical under different circumstances. “Wha- Okay, look, I’m sorry for encroaching on your turf- even if that turf is city property-“ he mumbles the last bit to himself- “But I’m not like, a serial-killer-murderer. Pinky promise.”

He looks so earnest, it reminds you of a little kid. He is holding out a single pinky to you, a safe distance away. 

You eye him warily for a second, then sigh, taking a few steps forward to interlock your pinky with his. He beams at you, smile as bright as the snow that began to silently fall around the two of you. 

You introduce yourself, shifting on your feet in a way that feels awkward and uncomfortable, like you were suddenly too aware of your body’s movements. 

“I’m Noah.” He offers warmly, cheeks and nose tinged a rosy pink from the winter air. The longer you look at him, the less intimidated you feel. He was still large- but in the way that the inflatable noodle-people outside of used car dealerships were large. He didn’t flail, necessarily, though. His movements seemed fluid, controlled. Where you were rigid from years of posturing amongst socialites, he was naturally elegant, as at ease under your gaze as the swans in the pond earlier. 

Soft, your mind supplies. He looks soft.  

His voice is gentle when he speaks again. “So, what brought you to the park in the middle of a blizzard?”

You try to resist the grin that creeps across your face; you fail miserably. “If you think this is a blizzard, you’re in for a shock come February.” 

“Do you defer every question someone asks you, or am I just special?” His dark eyes are trained on you, head cocked to the side curiously. It wasn’t an attack- his expression was too open to be on the offense. He was genuinely waiting for your answer. 

“I needed to get away from my mother.” You answer honestly, shrugging, though not meeting his gaze. 

You can feel his eyes on you, though, searching for more. “You got into an argument?” 

Shaking your head, you cast your eyes back to the pond, hoping to get another glimpse of the swans. “Not an argument. We have the same discussion every week, knowing fully well that we’ll disagree and end up screaming at each other.”

You have not felt… seen, like this, ever. You aren’t an adamant rule-follower, but you’re far from a rebel, too, allowing you to safely pass through life unnoticed. Even your mother only really seemed to remember you after your older sister had been married off to some fishing industry tycoon. To have a stranger see through your facade was unnerving. 

“Disagreeing and screaming sounds like an argument to me.” He pushes, to which you hum noncommittally. Sensing your apprehension, he follows your line of sight to the pond instead. “The ducks left weeks ago.”

“I’m not looking for the ducks.” You answer shortly, perhaps a bit too harsh. 

“Oh?” Is his only response.

It’s obvious he wants you to continue. This was a safer topic than your mother, so you yield to his piqued interest. “I like watching the swans. They were here earlier, but I think you scared them off.” Your eyes slide over to him slyly.

He scoffs, looking insulted. “The swans probably left because they were scared you’d mace them.”

You whirl on him, poking a finger into his chest. “The swans don’t lurk in the bushes at the park like a weirdo.” 

His expression is unimpressed, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “No one was lurking. Besides,” He grabs the finger directed at him gently, guiding it down to your side. “You don’t make a good damsel in distress. Anyone trying to steal you would just bring you back when they figured out how mean you are.”

“I’ve been nothing but cordial.” You sniff, brows furrowing at him. 

His smirk is a little overwhelming. “If this is you on your “Nice” setting, I’d hate to see you pissed off.” 

“Stop pushing your luck, then.” You respond dryly. He throws his head back to laugh, and the sound makes you feel warmer in your coat. 

You turn back to the pond, giving up on seeing the swans again tonight. You probably need to head home, anyways- you were expected at this stupid party, and suffering through it would be better than dealing with your mother’s nagging if you were absent. You let out a soft sigh, resigned to your fate. 

“I should go.” You say to no one in particular. 

You feel Noah’s eyes on you again. “Hey, don’t let me run you off. I can go if I’m bothering you-”

You shake your head, body turning to face him before you realize you’re moving. “No, it’s not you- really.” You offer what you hope is a kind smile. “I’m expected somewhere. My mother will be horribly cross with me if I’m not there.”

He’s giving you an understanding smile, eyes crinkling up at the edges. “Sounds like a real rager. Will I, uh-” He glances down at his shoes, kicking at the snow before continuing, “Will I get to see you again?”

The question genuinely startles you. You assumed your demeanor (and mace) would be off-putting enough for him to be quite happy not speaking to you from this moment forward, but he… wanted to see you again? 

“I mean,” You stammer, unable to find your words, “I’ll be around. At the park. If you’re also around.”

When he looks up, his face is alight. “Okay, yeah. I’ll also be around. Near the swans.”

A grin sneaks its way onto your face, unbeknownst to you. “Yeah, near the swans.” You avert your gaze, needing to look anywhere but at his hopeful expression. “See ya, Noah.”

He calls out a goodbye, but you’ve already scurried past him, the heels of your boots clicking rapidly against the sidewalk as you make your escape. You don’t dare glance back. 

Your home is a few minutes away, shorter than usual given the fact that you’re practically jogging through the winter night. By the time you’ve shut your front door behind you, you’re out of breath, chest rising and falling heavily. 

Your mother appears from the kitchen, her usual expression of passive annoyance plastered on her face. She calls your name, as if she needs to get your attention when you’re the only two people in the room. “Where have you been? It’s been snowing for half an hour, you’re going to catch a cold. And your boots are covered in mud- for heaven’s sake, really, we need to leave soon. Why are you grinning like that?” 

You don’t register the smile on your face, still panting. Schooling your features into neutrality, you mutter out a quick, “I’m going to change clothes, be down in a sec.”

She’s ranting about punctuality and manners, but you barely hear it as you run up the stairs, grin overcoming your features once more as you think about dark eyes and soft smiles.

[fioreofthemarch]

kin

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom Pairing: Link/Zelda Words: 1270 [✨this is a companion piece to repast and yearnings]

When at last Zelda was returned to the present, it was all she could do not to dwell on the past.

The memories of her time as a dragon were gone, but the subconscious remained. She felt unsteady on her feet, disliked being cooped up without a view of the sky, and often dreamt of flying, always waking with a lingering sense of loss. 

It was a guilty feeling. She had gotten everything she’d wanted. The Demon King was gone, Hyrule was saved, and Link - Link! - he was alive and they were finally free to go about their lives in long-awaited peace.  

And yet?

“You look as though you’ve forgotten something,” Purah had said to her when they’d last spoken in Lookout Landing. Zelda agreed, but couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. 

An answer came to her in Hateno, while she and Link were visiting their house by the river. Link had built them a new home in Akkala, and was sure that Zelda would enjoy rearranging it to her liking, if she didn’t mind moving house. So there in Hateno, while Zelda was sorting through her things and trying to decide what to take, something bright and blue caught her eye – a dragon! A spirit of cool, calm wisdom, passing silently overhead. 

At that moment, what was forgotten became clear. She burst from the house, arms waving, crying – “Sister!”

But the dragon never slowed, only kept on as sure as the wind. Then she was rounding north, slipping down towards the horizon, and then she was gone. 

Zelda sank down onto the grass, hands clasped tight and catching tears she didn’t know were falling. Naydra no longer knew her; they’d shared the skies for millenia, and yet! 

“Maybe she just doesn’t recognise you,” Link said upon finding her like this, his voice a steadying presence, as were his sure hands leading her back inside. “You’ve changed since she saw you last.” 

“For the better, right?”

He grinned, “I loved you just as much either way.”

After this Zelda tried, earnestly, to let life go on. The Akkala house was perfect, and only needed some nicer furnishings, maybe a painting or two, or a bigger garden. When not working on that, Zelda found her thoughts returning to the dragons – she charted Dinraal’s path over Akkala, drawing it on a map she kept in her study. Then, when the need arose to travel to Hateno, she did the same for Naydra, and later Farosh too, when she and Link travelled south to visit the Gerudo. Once the map was complete, it occurred to her that the three dragons formed a distinct triangle, each guarding their own corner of Hyrule. And that’s when knew what to do. 

“I was here for longer than I can even say,” she explained to Link, after convincing him to take her to the Great Sky Island. “The three dragons visited me here every day, at the centre of the Kingdom.” 

They stood on the roof of the Temple of Time, where Link had landed the ballooncraft he had made them. The skies were clear, and all of Hyrule could be seen below. He asked Zelda what exactly she planned to do, and she admitted she didn’t really know. She just had to try something. Link gave her an understanding nod, and stepped back to let her proceed. 

Zelda clasped her hands at her chest. She focused, felt all the yearning and regret, all the nostalgia for younger days, and let them flow from her like a lighthouse beacon – a single wish that cascaded from her very soul. Her secret stone, still worn around her neck, began to glow hot against her skin, in concert with the ancient royal mark on her right hand. I am here. Come to me!

How long she stood like that she did not know, but eventually she felt the air grow hot and cold all at once. 

The sight when she opened her eyes was all but beyond words; three great and immortal dragons, servants of the very Goddess herself, gathered together before the Temple. Their bodies flowed like rivers, irridescent scales scattering light, long horns shimmering with diffuse elemental power. Summoned here, the dragons hovered in place; Dinraal to the left, Farosh to the right and Naydra in the middle. 

Zelda bowed. She shook from nerves. Did the dragons hear her call? What was their answer? There was silence, except the wind, until at last Zelda heard a voice.

Sister, the dragon Naydra said, you are changed. 

You have become small and fragile, said the dragon Dinraal. 

You have joined the swordsman as a mortal, said the dragon Farosh. 

“You know me?” Zelda said, barely able to breathe. Behind her, Link stood tall and firm, though his body was tense. It was no small thing to treat with the gods. 

You were not easy to spot, Naydra said. Your light however was very familiar.

A great power summoned us here, sister. We are impressed, Dinraal said. 

As are we curious, Farosh added. Speak your command. 

Still Zelda did not know why exactly she had called them. There had to be something that she had wanted to say…

“Zelda… are you okay?” Link said, with a hint of fear in his voice. It was enough to steel her. She couldn’t tarry here. Immortal though her sisters were, she did not want to waste their time. 

“I am okay,” she answered, and she knew why.

Turning to Naydra, Dinraal and Farosh, Zelda bowed again, long and low. Rising, she said, “I was no one, adrift in an open sky, until I awoke in your company. I had done something terrible and forbidden, but you accepted me as one of your own, and stayed with me until my task was complete. And even now that I have left you, you remember me. This kindness…” she brushed tears from her cheeks, composing herself. “I must thank you. I wish there was a way to repay your generosity.” 

The dragons hovered, eyes bright and piercing. Zelda felt foolish; sentimental words probably meant little to them. But then, together, they bowed their heads in return. After a long moment, they broke formation and began to move through the air once more, silently circling the Temple of Time in a spiral of ice, flame and static.  

“Was that ‘offer accepted’?” Link asked with a nervous laugh. 

Dinraal departed first, heading north for Akkala. Then Farosh followed, turning south for Gerudo. Only Naydra remained. She flew down towards the roof of the temple, and landed on its parapets gentler than a feather. Placing her head down so that her and Zelda’s eyes were level, she blinked slow and calm. 

Beloved sister, she said, things done for kin need never be repaid.  

Then, a single tear falling from her eye, the dragon Naydra ascended from the roof, and flew east. Zelda watched until she disappeared from view, her own tears falling free. Not all memories were lost, she realised, but the past would always be the past, and that was its own kind of loss. 

Still, the future was calling. It came in the form of a warm and gentle hand – Link, threading his fingers into hers. “Home?” he said. Zelda nodded, knowing what he meant, but feeling that she was already there as he wrapped his arms around her. 

“Good, I’ve got an apple pie in the oven that you might like.”

With a laugh she returned his radiance, fresh but happy tears falling. “I think I might,” she said. And so they went, leaving the sky behind. 

[captianprices40thson]

They'll be chaos on the rails when the railway strikes.

Ghost x M!reader x Soap.

Word count: 6.3k

Warnings: ANGST!!, blood, descriptions of bones breaking, icky gross torture (only a small bit) memory loss, Ghost won't stop cracking jokes, canon-typical violence.

Based on the prompt by @happylighttraveler. You can find it here: Request!

Reader uses He/him pronouns, Y/N is used to refer to the reader, second person POV.

(Oh my god!! I had so much fun writing this!! Please, request more stuff for me!)

Right! Lets get into it!!

“What are you talking about?” “I said you’re staying here!” You and Soap were arguing about the newest mission assigned to the task force, clearly having opposing views. You knew that you weren’t the most experienced with the terrorist, but neither was Soap. In fact, none of you really had a clue what you were doing when faced with the threat that was Vladmir Makarov, apart from Price but, well…he was Price. Ever since you were injured on your last mission and had to spend a week recovering, Ghost and Soap had been extra protective of you despite your protests.

“I have just as much of a right to go as you or anyone else does.” You argued, but Soap had made it clear he wasn’t listening. He shut his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in order to stop himself from exploding. He wanted to yell, to sit you down and tell you that you were a liability to the mission, that you couldn’t handle it…but he couldn't. He loved you too much to even burden you with those thoughts, but someone else didn’t have a problem with it.

“Soap’s right. You’re staying here.” Ghost spoke up from the corner of the room that he had been hiding in. He stood in the shadows a lot, something you had gotten used to in your time knowing him. His arms crossed over his chest and his eyes showed no emotion, as they always did. It had been hard learning to read Ghost, hell, you still couldn’t properly distinguish from mild anger and mild disgust.

“Riley-” Your protest was cut off by him holding up his hand, instinctually shutting your mouth at his motion. You knew better than to argue with your superior, it still angered you though. Your face scrunched up in disapproval, but you kept your yap shut tight in case you said anything you regretted.

“Y/N, It’s too risky for you to go. Your leg hasn’t fully healed yet and we have no idea how it’ll react to the environment. Price has already taken you off of the assignment. You’re staying here and leading us through behind the monitor. Is that clear?” Ghost stated, walking over to where you and Soap were standing, his steps were small compared to his usual stride, but that was probably because the room was so small. The two men were standing in a line in front of you, like a triangle was formed and you were the point. 

Neither Ghost nor Soap wanted to do this to you, they knew how much you enjoyed the missions you went on with them, but they loved you too much to wager your safety in an unfamiliar environment. Ghost wasn’t afraid to use his position to threaten you and Soap didn’t mind backing Ghost up on that. The Scotsman was a bit more hesitant to be mean to you than the Brit, but it didn’t matter. You were staying here and that was final.

After fighting yourself internally, you clenched your fists and looked down, giving a small nod. You knew that they were just trying to protect you, but you still hated it. You weren’t a child in need of protection, you were an adult that could handle yourself, but you couldn't risk being court marshalled…again.

“Good…now come on, Johnny. Price called us into the meeting room five minutes ago. I don't want to anger that man by making him wait any longer. Y/N…don’t get yourself into any trouble.” Ghost added on, brushing his shoulder up against Soap’s in order to tell him it was time to go in a non verbal matter. Soap nodded and took one better look at you, before following Ghost out of the room, leaving you there alone. There were a million thoughts rushing through your head, none that you could quite pinpoint. There was sadness, anger, betrayal, understanding…and fear. Fear that without you, your team wouldn’t make it back. Or maybe, they’d do everything without you and you’d be left alone without them.

You couldn’t quite understand what you were feeling…but you were hurt.

So when a week or so later, when the team had left and arrived at their destination, you couldn't help but groan and lay your head on the table as you heard their chatter over the radio.

“Y/N, do you have us going?” Price’s voice cackled in over the radio and you looked up at the monitors. You had the amazing view of Ghost’s chest cam that was half-obscured by the snow falling everywhere. You gathered yourself and responded, looking over at the radio you had on your desk. It was a clever thing, you didn’t need to press a button to communicate, it just picked up any noise from your end and put it through to their walkie talkies without you having to even move.

“I’ve got you, Captain.” You responded, trying to make your voice sound less tired and annoyed than you were. You could see Soap walk in front of Ghost’s camera and give a little wave, knowing you were there and trying to cheer you up. You couldn’t help but grin, seeing his stupid smile that he wore proudly. But now was no time for smiles, because you knew they had a very important mission at hand. Finding and taking down Vladmir Makarov. It was a capture or kill mission, so everyone was a little nervous. You could see Gaz do a little jig and adjust his hat as he walked alongside Price, kicking the thick snow on the ground in order to move. For a moment, you were grateful you weren’t there and wouldn’t have to deal with the hassle that is thick snow.

But that moment passed and you realised you wished to be with them. You were alone in the base, the silence was painful. You were always used to hearing a scream from Soap that somehow always had something to do with Scotland, or Gaz and Price acting like a father and son. Ghost was always quiet, but you always knew that he was there. You were the guys, a team, a squad!…and now it was just one of you.

Watching as the team made their way into the base, you made sure to check over the detailed map of the area, letting them know when to turn and when to check for guards and other enemies. It was halfway into the mission where you felt a sense of unease in your stomach, like something was off.

“Y/N, are you still with us?” You heard Soap’s voice over the radio and brought yourself back to reality. You still couldn’t shake off that feeling that something was wrong…very wrong.

“I’m here. Is everything alright over there?” You asked, your voice unsure and trembling. You could only hope that everything was okay on their end and that it was all in your head, but even with Gaz’s reassurance that they were all fine on their end, something was wrong…very wrong.

“We’re breaching his office now, this ends here.” Price announced to you and the rest of the task force, his thick British accent making him sound more confident in himself than he actually was at the moment.  You spun around in your chair, looking over the room you were in as clearly, they did not need you anymore. You looked up at the security camera in the corner, thinking to yourself. That’s probably what was wrong, they had been meaning to change the batteries in the cameras, even from there you could see the light flickering and trying it’s best to continue working. In a way, kind of like yourself.

“Y/N, we’ve got a problem.” Price’s voice called out and you turned around to see the monitor on your screen. They were all standing in an office type area, the one that had been marked to be Makarov’s office. Confusion took over you as you realised why Price had a problem.

“Where’s Makarov?” You asked, raising the question that everyone else had been thinking. You watched Ghost move around the room, along with everyone else. Price and Gaz had left the room in order to go search the halls, which was probably a stupid idea to split off from the soldier who was carrying the only man who knew the instructions around the place, but they did it anyway.

“Y/N, can you look back through your feed? Can you see if we missed something?” Soap asked, his Scottish accent making his words a bit hard to understand to the average person, but handing around the man so often, you had learned how to understand his jibber-jabber. You moved the mouse over to the side of your video, trying to see if that was something you could do. Still, the feeling of unease was there and bigger than ever. It felt like someone was right behind him ready to kill him, that’s how bad it was.

“I honestly don’t know how to do that. I-I’d have to end the recording on the tape, so I wouldn’t be able to see you guys. I don’t think I can help you guys here. Could you go get P-” Your speech was cut off by a slam against your head, sending you to the floor and off your chair. You hit the floor with a thud, yelling out of instinct. Your vision was blurry, but you still managed to look up and make out the figure looming over you.

Makarov.

You tried to get up or even just move away, but a boot slammed down to your chest prevented you from moving. You heard the cracks of several ribs breaking, blood collecting in your throat as the pain coursed through your body. You yelled out in pain, but were quickly stopped by him placing a rag of sorts against your mouth. Your tear-filled eyes cleared and you could see his face just a couple inches away from yours, his heterochromic eyes staring into yours. You could see several more soldiers surrounding you two and you realised you were completely and utterly screwed.

“Jesus…these are the people that Price is working with. You were so easy to sneak up on, honestly.” Makarov commented, moving his foot that wasn’t on your chest to your right wrist, pressing down on it hard so that you would be in too much pain to even try and make a move with your left. Your heart stopped as you realised that this man was an actual terrorist and you were in actual trouble. You shivered as he bent down, grabbing your chin and inspecting you like you were a brand new toy that he was to play with.

“I can work with this.” He smiled, before moving his hand to the back of your head. He moved his boots off of your chest and wrist and you breathed a sigh of relief, before he raised your head and slammed it into the floor. You let out a cry of pain that was only mildly muffled by the rag as you felt your nose break, before Makarov took a step backwards and slammed his foot down on your neck, causing your voice to be temporarily restricted and your breathing to become a difficult task..

You could hear Soap and Ghost’s yells over the radio as they heard you being attacked, which filled you with a bit of hope…before Makarov hissed something in Russian that you couldn’t quite make out and the man closest to the two of you took the radio and slammed it on the floor, stomping his foot on it for good measure. You watched the pieces scatter, some of it landing close to you and cutting your skin. You would cry…but you could feel Makarov’s grip on your head get tighter and the thought of him slamming your head into the cold concrete floor again wouldn’t end well for you.

You could only watch as the blood from your injuries created a pool under you, some of it coming from your chest, others from the cuts on your arm or the blood pooling from your head injury. You could feel your breathing get shallower and your eyes close as the realm of unconsciousness took you into its surprisingly warm arms. You could swear that you were dying, that this was it…this was how you died.

Meanwhile, halfway across the world, Soap and Ghost were freaking out as their only connection to you was cut off unexpectedly and they were pretty sure you were dead. They looked over to one another, Soap with tears in his eyes, Ghost with his own being wider than anyone had ever seen them before.

“Price! Gaz! D-Did you-” Soap called out to the duo, before the two rushed back into the room, both with frantic looks on their faces. The rest of the team had seen this look on Price before…it was the look of pure fear and panic.

“We heard. It was Makarov. He’s not here. He’s there and I’m pretty sure he…he just killed Y/N. We have to go now.” Price ordered, looking over at the group of frightened men in front of him. He had to shut off his emotions in that moment in order to remain strong and lead the team, but his team couldn’t do the same. He could see the pure fear in their faces that they hadn’t seen in their darkest moments. Ghost carefully placed his hand on Soap’s shoulder, trying to be the stronger one out of the two. He gave a nod to Price, who nodded back and turned so he could lead the group out of there.

It was harder to leave without your help, meaning they ran into a few more enemies and a few more bullets no longer lay in their magazines. Soap’s head was rushing with thoughts, tears streaming down his face blurring his vision. He had Ghost’s hand on his shoulder to guide him as they ran through the thick snow. Even when they loaded into the emergency helicopter, he had Ghost to help him in and hold his shoulder tight..

Getting back to base was scary and they all tried to prepare themselves for the worst. They didn’t know what they were going to find when they got back. Soap was utterly terrified that you were dead and when they entered the room they’d find Makarov standing over your dead body, but then again it was a long while till they’d be back and he doubted Makarov would stay just to see their reactions…but his brain couldn’t be convinced that whatever would happen would be otherwise.

Meanwhile, Ghost couldn’t help but blame himself. It was his idea for you to stay behind in the first place. He was the one that convinced Price and the rest of the team that you were in no condition to fight…and they had all agreed. He was to blame. He was the one that let Makarov find and murder you…this was his fault.

“We’ll be back in a couple hours, I’ve notified Laswell and told her to get the closest possible people to rush over to our base and figure out the situation. I’m sorry for leading you guys into a dead end.” Price told the base, shutting the door that separated the pilot from the rest of the crew. He strutted to the back of the helicopter, where everyone was sitting. Ghost and Soap next to each other, Gaz sitting with his head down opposite them. Price sat down next to Gaz and put his hand on his shoulder as a father would.

“It’s not your fault, Price. You couldn’t have known, none of us would’ve. We were told he was there, everyone thought he was.” Ghost responded, keeping it together a bit better than Soap was. Inside, he was screaming. He was screaming because you might be dead. He heard the slams, the screams, the unmistakable sound of bones breaking…if you didn’t die from that then you’d die from not getting medical attention.

“I know but…we’ll figure out what happened when we get back.” Price ended the conversation, not wanting to focus on the fact that he had been misled and had put not only you, but his team in danger. He felt like a failure of a captain, unable to even keep his team alive and safe for a minute.

When they arrived back at base, they basically rushed in. The other team that was close by and able, The Rat’s Nest, was already at the scene. Their leader, Captain Darryl ‘Aragon’ Wilson, was there and ready to walk Price and the rest of the team through the scene.

“We ran in here, the windows were broken and the doors had their locks taken off. But…we couldn’t find either of the men Laswell had described. We only found…” Darryl trailed off as they entered the room you were previously working in, letting it speak for itself. 

There was blood on the floor, so much blood. The chair you were sitting on was laying on the floor in the corner, clearly having taken a hit or two. They could see the smashed radio on the floor, some of the blood that was presumably yours had surrounded the outsides of it, making Soap cringe out of disgust and distaste. There was a short blood trail that looked like somebody had been dragged in the liquid all the way to the door, before it stopped. Ghost looked over in the corner to see the security camera, its light no longer blinking.

“Have we checked the camera?” He asked, his thick British accent hiding the desperation trying to claw out of it. He was terrified, they all were. Darryl looked over into the corner, shaking his head. He crossed his arms, looking down at Ghost from where he was standing.

“We just assumed it was dead and wouldn’t have anything useful. Do you reckon it’s worth checking?” He asked, crossing his arms, his face showing interest and curiosity. Soap nodded, turning over to the two Captains who were blocking a concerned Gaz from the Scot’s vision.

“It's worth a shot.” Soap confirmed what the nod meant, hoping his thick scottish accent covered his shaky voice, but he knew it didn't. Ghost looked over to Soap, knowing he was scared. Who wouldn’t be? This was the man they loved who had been possibly murdered by the man they hated and feared most in the world.

When the usb was placed into the projector, fast forwarded to a couple hours earlier and pressed play, the team hitched their breath as they watched the scene. They watched you spin around in your chair, begin talking to Soap and Ghost before being slammed in the head by a very aggressive Makarov that had snuck in through the door on the side of the room.

The recording cut off with you on the ground, bleeding and still. And when they played it over and over for some sense of closure that you were alright…it was the same every time. You, on the floor, not moving, not even breathing. Soap could feel the tears in his eyes as he and everyone else in the squad realised what had happened.

Makarov had murdered you

And there was nothing they could do about it other than hunt the bastard down and murder him in the name of you.

1868 days, not that they were counting or anything.

Who were they kidding…they were counting. Every single day without you was agony for every single one of them, but it was especially hard on Ghost and Soap. Price and Gaz had noticed how much they missed you, it impacted their performance and Soap had to even be sent home after punching a recruit that mentioned you. Ghost took leave to stay with Soap, not wanting the man he loved to be alone to grieve the man they lost. Every single time a new mission was announced and assigned to them, they begged it to be going after Makarov. Hell, the whole team wanted it to be going after Makarov, you were important to all of them.

“What’s this?” Ghost asked, looking down at the file that Price had placed down in their briefing room. Price had a smile on his face, meaning only one thing. The captain took a moment before explaining the mission.

“One of Makarov’s allies, Konrad Geilen, was tracked down to an abandoned trading base in the south of Germany, just west of Schwarzwald. We believe that he’s got some pretty good ideas on where Makarov is hiding out. Therefore, if we find Konrad…”

“We find Makarov.” Soap finished Price’s sentence for him. Price gave him a smile and a finger gun, indicating that he was correct. The amount of relief that flowed through the other three members of the task force was bigger than any wave on earth. They had waited too long to get revenge for you, and now was their opportunity to do what they had been waiting for.

“When do we head out?” Gaz asked, ready to get this show on the road.

“What time is it now?” Price responded and the rest of the Task Force grinned like teenage girls that had just been looked at by their crush. Even Ghost, although you couldn’t see it from behind the mask.

“I have a mission for you.” 

Two days earlier, Makarov had walked into your room and explained what he wanted you to do. See, in the three years that you had been taken hostage by the man…everything had changed. The days he spent torturing you for information turned into weeks, then months. Then after you broke into a shell of a man you once were, Makarov used it to his advantage and took the opportunity to create you into the perfect soldier, something the 141 would never see coming.

“I’ve just put out a fake, a diversion by the name of Konrad Gielien. He’s an old friend of mine named Henning Mesyats that owes me a favour or two. He’s been set out as…bait for Price and his men to take. And that’s where you come in.” Makarov explained, walking over to you and sitting next to you on his designated chair. You took in his words, nodding and taking the information in. Stuff was a bit hard for you to remember, mainly because of all the memories wiped from your mind but there was probably another reason that you believed in.

“Your job is to find Price and the 141 and whilst they’re distracted by moy khoroshiy drug Henning, you murder each and every one of them. Don’t stop until their bodies are mangled and unrecognisable…got it?” Makarov continued, looking at you when he was done explaining to make sure you understood. When you gave him a nod back, he smiled and patted your shoulder, getting up and walking to the door.

“Tomorrow…you leave tomorrow morning to make sure you get there before them.” He instructed, knowing you wouldn’t sleep in, that’s not how he made you. That’s not how he designed you, sleeping in or doing anything remotely human was…unheard of from you. He hated to admit it, but at times even Makarov himself found it a bit weird. He understood that he had done this to you, deprived you of yourself, your personality, even your name and had turned you into some kind of…dog for him to own, yet it still bothered him a bit.

“Alright, Gaz and I’ll go round the back. Soap and Ghost, take the front. We’ll meet up on the rooftop after clearing the building and finding Konrad or if we are unable to locate him. Remember, this is a capture mission.” Price instructed as they left the helicopter, watching it retreat back to its home of the air after they had given the signal to the pilot.

“Remind me of what he looks like again? Don’t want to capture a random soldier and confuse him for a friend of Makarov’s.” Soap asked, before being elbowed in the stomach by Ghost who couldn’t be bothered to even look at him. He clutched his chest, giving the Brit a ‘what was that?’ look. Ghost didn’t look back at him, keeping eye contact with Price.

“Soap…he’s the only guy there. This building is abandoned, he’s using it as a hideout. If there is someone else there, you’ll know it isn't him…also I told you what he looked like.” Price reminded him, an exasperated expression on his face. Ghost smiled under the mask and Soap now knew why he was so brutally elbowed.

“Don’t forget why we’re here…this is for Y/N.” Gaz reminded them all and they all serioused up. Gaz was right…this mission was about getting revenge for the man that not only were they all teammates with, but the man Gaz knew like a brother, Price had a bond with like a son and the man Ghost and Soap loved. The whole squad nodded and began making their way through the rough terrain and over to the outsides of the abandoned building. Soap and Ghost watched Price and Gaz make their way to the other side of the building. They gave each other a look and walked inside, guns at the ready.

“See anyone, Lt?” Soap asked as they made their way through, checking through the different rooms and occasionally having to lift up their guns whenever they saw movement or a shadow, but it was either their own shadow or a rat that had gotten accustomed to living there.

“No, just a bunch of really outdated guns and a stupid amount of blankets. Speaking of, why did the soldier bring a blanket into an active battle zone?” Ghost asked and Soap sighed as he realised Ghost was making another dad joke. His refusal to reply just meant Ghost finished it on his own.

“Because he needed cover.” Ghost joked and Soap backed out into the hallway where they were standing. He gave his lieutenant a disapproving look, watching as his eyes crinkled from the smile behind his mask.

“Seriously, Ghost. If I was your superior, I’d have court marshalled you by now.” Soap groaned as they walked forward. Just as Ghost was about to make another remark that would probably make Soap want to shoot him, they both heard the sounds of boots hitting the floor. Someone was running…and they both knew it wasn’t Price or Gaz.

The two ran out to the main area and out of the hall, into the main storage area and the duo could see how big it actually was. The roof must have been as tall as fifteen Ghost’s stacked on top of eachother, which is a really funny image if you think about it long enough. They both followed the footsteps to a figure running on a walkway that they could get to by accessing some stairs. Ghost nodded to Soap, who nodded back and practically bolted up those stairs, desperate to get to the person.

As Soap ran, Ghost took the other stairs in order to corner the man they saw sprinting. He pushed himself up and made his way around the corner, so now that they were all on the railings up above. Their eyes followed the figure, both rushing after him. They chased after him and fired a few bullets that he seemed to dodge effortlessly, before watching him run around the corner. Soap ran forward and around the corner to get to the man. Ghost waited outside the corner, gun at the ready incase the man managed to get by Soap.

He waited there for a moment, before hearing a yelp from Soap, his eyes widened as he figured out what that meant. It didn’t sound like he was in pain, more like he was shocked at something. Ghost shook his head and moved around the corner, being met with a sight that took a few moments to process.

Soap was on the floor, a gun pointed at his face being held by the man they were chasing. The man had placed a boot on Soap’s right hand and another on his left leg, the Scott’s gun laying on the floor a few feet away. Ghost’s eyes trailed up to the man pointing a gun at the man he loved, lifting up his own weapon in order to put a bullet through his shoulder and take him down without murdering him…but he stopped once he recognised who it was…

“Y/N?” He whispered, lowering the gun in realisation. Your head turned to him, still keeping your gun pointed at Soap’s head, your finger resting on the trigger. You studied Ghost’s mask, trying to figure out what he was going on about. Of course, you didn’t recognise who Y/N was…that wasn’t you anymore.

“You take one step further and your friend with the shitty haircut gets it.” You spat, pushing your gun further to Soap’s temple. They were both in shock, the man they had loved and had believed to be dead for five years…was right in front of them, brainwashed to not remember who he was or what he was…he was like some kind of winter soldier…with a weird russian accent.

“Y/N, stop. W-What…what happened to you?” Ghost whispered, placing his hands in the air. The shock was getting to him, the idea that you were ALIVE all this time and didn’t recognise neither him nor Soap…that hurt him deeper than anything anyone in his childhood could have done. When he saw you rest your finger against the trigger, he called out once more.

“Stop! My hands are in the air! I-I…What the fuck happened, Y/N?” Ghost exclaimed, his heart tearing in half and his British accent coming out stronger than he had intended. He couldn't even form a proper sentence without letting everyone that could hear him know he was going through something…something huge.

Meanwhile Soap was going through a crisis of his own, having the man he loved and had mourned for over FIVE YEARS pointing a gun right at his head and not even showing the slightest bit of hesitation at pulling the trigger. It was like he was a completely new person

And he probably was.

“You are going to listen to me, Ghost. You are going to close the door and place any and all guns or weapons you have on the floor…if you want to do it the easy way. The hard way is…much more uncivilised.” You told Ghost, your eyes staying on his. He felt a pang in his heart when you called him Ghost, because he was never Ghost to you. To you, he was Riley and on the odd occasion, Simon. But never Ghost.

Ghost looked down at Soap, both their eyes as wide as the others. Soap didn’t nod or shake his head at what he thought Ghost should do, it was up to the Brit to work it out. 

After a moment of contemplation, he slowly kneeled and placed all his weapons on the floor, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. Your eyes never left his, meaning that your peripheral vision was smaller…and you didn’t see the signal Ghost had motioned to Soap.

Kicks to the balls hurt, everyone knew that, and despite you being a brainwashed robot, Soap wasn’t going to do that to you. Instead, with his leg that you had left free, he chose to lift up and kick you in the knee, causing you to recoil back a bit, lifting your foot off of his hand, meaning he could grab the gun Ghost had pushed towards him.

So, it was you backed into a corner by the two men, both of whom holding guns and calling you by a name that triggered something in your brain. It felt familiar to you…yet so foreign at the same time. What was happening?

You didn’t have time for feelings right now, you told yourself, getting right back to the task at hand and pulling out your gun strapped to your thigh. You wasted no time in pulling it back and pressing the trigger, just narrowly missing Ghost’s shoulder. No…this wasn’t you. You never missed, never in your five years of shooting had you missed. What were they doing to you?

“That was a warning shot.” You hissed, trying to intimidate the two men from the position you were in. They both looked like they were going through the five stages of grief at the moment, it wasn’t hard to make them scared. The one with the skull, Ghost as you had been told to call him, was harder to read, his face hidden by the mask on his face.

“Y/N…What happened to you? How are you alive? W-Why are you fighting us?” The shorter one with the mohawk, Soap as he had been classified, stepped forward, gun pointing to your face. You moved your hand to go shoot him, but the bullet hitting the wall right behind your gun told you to stop.

“Who the fuck is Y/N?” You hissed, ready to tear off their limbs if they didn’t give you an answer, although you were going to do that anyways once you had them in a position similar to yours. They kept referring to you by that name…the one that inflicted such a strong emotion in you.

“Y…You’re Y/N. Don't you remember that…remember us?” Soap asked, walking closer. You could see the tears in his eyes, the look of pure despair on his face. He looked like everything he loved had been ripped out of his arms and been forced to watch die infront of him ten times over, and as far as the Scot knew, it had.

“No. I have no relation to either of you men, the only reason I would ever remember you two is seeing your faces on my wall of soldiers I’ve murdered.” You spat back, getting defensive. You couldn’t figure out why, but something in you told you that Soap was onto something.

You looked over towards Ghost, trying to scan him for any weak points, but his gun was still trained on your own and you decided it was best to not go for him at the moment. You quickly focused on both of them, trying to find your objective and directive.

That's when you were hit with something, nothing physical…but something about the situation and positions you were in had triggered something in you.

“Is that clear?” A voice spoke, it was blurry and distorted, but you knew deep down that you knew it. You moved your head, where were you? Everything was blurry, but there were two people in front of you. Their faces, whilst familiar, were blurred out, most everything was.

You looked down and clenched your fist, but it wasn’t you the one moving. You knew it was you…but this was a different version of you. You watched yourself nod, and the figures shuffled a bit.

“Good…now come on, Johnny. Price called us into the meeting room five minutes ago. I don't want to anger that man by making him wait any longer. Y/N…don’t get yourself into any trouble.” The taller figure spoke once more, that name reaching deep into your soul and finding something in you. Y/N…that was your name. You were Y/N. Those men in front of you…Soap and Ghost. N-No…Johnny and Riley. Your Johnny and your Riley…your boyfriends.

“Y/N?” The Scotsman's voice brought you back to reality, but you had changed. It had all rushed back to you, everything about you, what and who you had been, who you had loved…everything was back now. They both took small steps towards you, watching as you lowered your gun and looked up to the both of them with tears in your eyes. 

“Y/N…Are you…?” Soap asked, walking towards you. He noticed that you were no longer hostile, and instead were going through seven stages of grief yourself. That's how much distress you were in, there were now seven stages of grief just for you.

“I-I’m here…I’m alive and I’m back. I-I…oh god…what the fuck have I done?” You whispered, breaking down right then and there. The torture, the murder, everything you had been through the last five years; it was all coming back to you.

“Hey, hey we’re here and we’ve got you, alright?” The scotsman assured you, placing a gloved hand on your face and holding you close to him. Tears started to stream down his own face as he held you close. It wasn’t a moment later before you felt the weight of a 6’4 brit holding both of you close to him.

It was a nice moment, and you all wanted it to last forever, but that isn’t how life worked, because not long after the hug began, it ended just as quickly by Price contacting both the boys via radio.

“Ghost, Soap, we’ve got Konrad out the front. Where are you both?” His thick-accented voice came in through the radio, and not even words could describe how nice it was to hear it again. You looked up at the men you loved, tears still streaming down your face. Soap smiled and kissed your forehead, for both him and Ghost seeing as the taller male was unable to.

“We’re taking you home…alright?” Soap whispered and you nodded, holding him tight. Ghost smiled under the mask and held his radio in order to report back to Price.

“We’re solid, just in a room near the top, we’ll head over to you ASAP…and we’ve got a surprise for you both.”

(Soooooo how we feeling!??!?!) Honestly, such a great time writing this, and if you want to request something yourself, here's your place to see what I do! (anyone who got the fact that Daryll was a reference to DNDADS, I love you.) Take care, everyone!