#something something when things go bad it gets torn open and something happens

[blookmallow]

ok i made one too

[pleaselmhau]

Just imagine the sweet little medic on base, the one always giving those beaming smiles and soft touches is the one who wormed their way into Ghost’s heart. It started with him sitting on the shabby cot, having half the mind to just stitch himself up after waiting so long. He didn’t even want to be here in the first place but infection meant he’d be out of commission and that’s not happening. Eventually the sweetest thing comes sauntering on in and instantly he’s glaring. Of course the universe is taunting him. Why else would it put them in here with him? Their cheesy jokes make him roll his eyes, wanting them to just shut up and finally finishing stitching. He’s surprised though when they do finish rather quickly. The stitches are neat too even though they were yapping the whole time. So now he’s torn between being his grumpy self and his begrudging respect for their skills.

So he starts coming to them whenever he’s busted up, he’s a man of habit after all. Not having to risk whatever medic is assigned to him being more annoying or worse bad at their job is one worry he can tick off. Their cheesy jokes start to work on him, complimenting his dry humor truthfully quite well until he has to catch him self grinning a little and pop back on his scowl. Then their sweet smiles start disarming him until one day he’s just look down at their goofy smile and bright eyes and just thinks fuck.

He starts chatting a little more when he comes and starts seeing them more for smaller injuries. Now all of the sudden he’s stopping by the medbay for bruises and shallow cuts too. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, or what he wants, but man does his feet always seem to bring him right back here in front of them. They must notice too as they start tagging along when he’s around base and free, going to the mess hall with him, on his morning walks, even sometimes joining him for training. Until one night they have a few drinks and an hour later they’re under him moaning so sweetly while he’s rutting into them like there’s no tomorrow. Unfortunately for his defenses, there was. He expected the hookup to ruin whatever was blooming between them but nope, they come right back to his quarters a few nights later for seconds, then thirds, then… you get the picture.

Then he’s giving them a spare key to his quarters, not telling them he had to fake losing his own to get the second copy. At that point they should just sleep there every night right? So they do. It becomes his new routine, squeezing his worries and stress away into their soft, pliant body. Becomes an absolute softie at night when he’s sleepy. Grumbling something about not being comfy before plopping down right on them, practically suffocating them with his big meaty self.

Then his team is finding out because they come back late from a mission, two days late, and the medic is barreling right for him, wrapping him up in an embrace. He watches Soap, Gaz, and Price’s brows raise in question but he doesn’t even really have the answers to himself. He just pats them on the back and plants a chaste kiss right on their forehead, telling them to go back to his quarters and that he’ll be up in a bit. Soap and Gaz tease him, earning sharp glares. Price grumbles something about interpersonal work relationships, but Ghost knows the captain wouldn’t snitch. Ghost doesn’t open up to anyone, Price won’t jeopardize his exception. Beneath it all they’re just happy Ghost is becoming a little less tense, still grumpy, but not as constantly on edge as he used to be.

[loganhowlettshousewife]

Okay relating to a recent post, cleaning up Logan after a fight/mission? Maybe you have a kit ready to go when you hear him return, put his favorite pjs on a fluff cycle so they're nice and warm for him. You clean off any blood (maybe a few remaining wounds if it was BAD bad), and wipe down his claws. Maybe shower together, letting you run your fingers through his shampooed hair before getting cozy for the night

I just wanna take care of him

you! you get it!!

comfort

summary: you take care of logan after he comes home from a mission.

cw (treating this like ao3 tags): blood, wound tending, non-sexual intimacy, nudity, not proofread at all, english isn't my first language so beware, reader has hair, i'm pretty sure this is gender neutral but i'm a girl so i may have accidentally added something gendered without realising idk. this is very soft! you can say this is out of character for logan but i believe he's actually a big softie and just wants love!

word count: 1619

logan comes home to you sitting on the couch reading a book. or, well, you’re trying to read, but it’s hard to focus on anything when logan’s out on a mission. you know he can’t die, his regenerative healing factor pretty much guarantees that, and yet there’s still an irrational spark of fear that lives in you, lighting a fire in your heart every time he gets called away by the x-men.

every minute that passes is a dagger, every new star that appears in the sky a reminder of how long he’s been gone. missions for the x-men can be mere hours or last for days, you remind yourself, and time has nothing to do with how dangerous it is.

though logan typically only gets chosen to go on the dangerous missions. he’s not the one they ask to convince new, young mutants to go to the school. he’s too harsh, too jaded.

you immediately drop the book when you hear the sound of the door lightly creaking open. you’re on your feet in an instant, there to catch logan when he falls into your arms, sweaty and bloody and tired - not as much physically, he has insane stamina, but mentally.

“missed you,” he mumbles into your hair, tucking your head under his chin.

“missed you more,” you reply.

you stay like that for a few minutes. you both need the comfort. early on in your relationship, logan would refuse this type of comfort after a mission, claimed he didn’t need it, he’s fought and killed his entire life and never had a sweet thing like you to take care of him when he got back. but you did, you needed to know he was there, with you, a physical presence, proof that nothing terrible had happened to him.

secretly, he revelled in those moments. now, he trusts you enough for those feelings to be spoken out loud, whispered reverently between “i love you”s, declarations of affection and faith. you’re the only one who’s ever been able to get him to open up this way, to verbalise his feelings instead of swallowing them down.

“you’re covered in blood,” you comment, running a hand down his chest.

he shivers, “most of it’s not mine. but they got a few shots in.”

you hum, pulling back to take a better look at him. his shirt is torn in a few places, and in the middle of his chest are multiple neat, round holes in the fabric, small marks showing where bullets pierced his skin. the wound itself has healed, but the blood remains, a visual reminder of the pain your boyfriend was feeling not so long ago.

he may heal quickly, but he still feels pain, feels agony, and your heart shatters at the way others seem to forget that, so quick to put him in the line of fire. he’ll be fine, they say, and while that may be true physically, there’s only so many times a man can play human shield before he breaks.

“let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, the next part of your routine for when he returns from missions. 

it’s a dance you’ve almost perfected, the way he wraps his arms around your waist and you have to walk to the bathroom with him clinging to you. 

he sits down on the closed toilet seat, closing his eyes and letting you do all the work. his claws come out next, stained with the blood of those he harmed and killed, yet you trace them softly all the same. they protect you - he protects you, really, and so you’ll always be grateful for them, even when logan considers them a curse, a stain upon his existence, turning a man into a monster.

you grab a washcloth and dampen it, wiping meticulously at each sharp blade, from his knuckle to the pointed tip of the adamantium. soon, the washcloth is stained a dirty red, almost brown in its appearance, and the metal gleams brightly under the bathroom lights.

there’s an ease to his posture when he retracts his claws, so slight a difference that no one else would have noticed. he told you once that he can feel the blood remaining on his claws when they pull back into his skin, that it’s an uncomfortable reminder that he’s hurt people, that he’s a killer.

he doesn’t clean them himself, says the reminder is necessary. you disagree, and so you took to wiping them down yourself every time he came home after any sort of fight.  

there’s a small spot of blood between each of his knuckles where the claws pierce his skin, the tiniest bit of red that welled up before the cuts could heal themselves and you wipe that away too. then you lean down to press soft kisses to his hands, the part of himself that logan hates most.

he sighs, a shaky exhale leaving him at the sight of you lowering onto your knees to worship him, to prove your adoration.

any other time that would be enough to turn the mood of the evening into something much different, but he isn’t willing to give this up quite yet, this soft intimacy that’s always felt so foreign to him, a type of love he’d convinced himself he would never get to experience.

“i’m gonna go throw our pajamas and a few blankets into the dryer. you can get the shower going in the meantime, ‘kay?” he agrees easily, of course, and you lean up to kiss him, slow and soft.

pulling away is almost physically painful but you manage. you find the fluffy hello kitty pajama pants you originally bought for logan as a joke as well as the matching set you bought yourself and grab the blanket that sits at the foot of your bed, throwing them into the dryer to warm them up.

he sleeps naked most days, a blessing for you, but on his more difficult days he likes to cuddle up to soft, plush fabrics. besides, you like to think that the silly pajama pants bring him comfort, a reminder of your love for him, that you’re thinking about him even at the most inopportune of times.

he’s in the shower when he returns, the water tinged pink as it slides down the hard, muscled planes of his body. you’re quick to undress and join him, stepping under the hot water, feeling it soak into your hair and skin.

“you’re gorgeous,” logan says, grabbing onto your waist with his large hands to pull you to his chest. he brushes your wet hair out of your face. “can’t believe how lucky i am to have you. what did i ever do to deserve you, sweetheart?”

“you don’t have to do anything to deserve me, logan,” you say, “just being you is enough. and really, you do so much for me. every day.”

“loving you is the best thing i ever did,” he admits, “i’m gonna continue to do whatever i need to keep you. wanna be with you until i die.”

you’ve had conversations like these before, usually always in moments of vulnerability, often coming after devastation and horror. he doesn’t say these types of things in the light of day, but he doesn’t take them back later either. they just stay, floating in the air between you.

one day, you think, you’ll be able to have a real conversation about the future with him. it’s a goal to look towards, but he’s not quite there yet, and you’re okay with that. you’re content with what he does tell you, praise that he marks into every inch of your body.

you use your body wash to clean him, knowing he’ll smell faintly of you afterwards, and the possessive part of you is pleased. your hands tangle in his hair, scrubbing the shampoo into his scalp. his head is tilted down so you can have better access. 

it gets harder to finish cleaning him as his body leans into yours, two magnets always seeking each other. 

you exit the shower before him, allowing him a few more seconds under the water pressure to pull the last remnants of tension from his form. you pat yourself dry and then hurriedly grab the garments you’ve thrown into the dryer, stepping back into the humid bathroom as logan turns off the water.

the adrenaline has made way for bone-deep exhaustion, and so you help logan dry off.

it’s peaceful, quiet, as the two of you finish your nighttime routines. he brushes his teeth and watches you do your skincare routine, unwilling to go into your bedroom if you’re not by his side.

he falls asleep before you, for once. typically, he struggles to fall asleep, worried about the nightmares that plague his slumber and the possibility of harming you while unconscious. it’s nice to see him sleeping peacefully, the stern lines of his face flattening into a soft tranquillity that only you get to see.

you can feel your eyelids growing heavy but you need to watch him just a little longer. so you fight the darkness that wants to pull you under, focusing on the hand you have placed on logan’s chest, the way you can feel the steady rising and falling of his breathing, the way his warm skin feels against the palm of your hand. 

“i’ll always come back to you,” he’d told you once when you had expressed the worry that seizes hold of you whenever he’s away for long.

you’re smiling when you fall asleep, those words replaying in your mind. he’s home, with you, and as long as he comes home to you everything will be okay.

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part One)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: lots of wade in this one but no wolverine just yet!

tag list: @allmyn1ghts, @oscarissac2099

Masterlist//Next Chapter

Not Ok

Flashes of images invaded your mind. You were in a tank, arms restrained to your sides as the oxygen was slowly sucked out of the chamber, suffocating you. Your nails digging into the leather cushioning beneath you as you try to claw your way out.

Now you were strapped to a table, an array of needles embedded into your arms and legs as you were injected painfully with all kinds of different things you weren’t even sure of.

You startled awake before the sound of your alarm had a chance to rouse you from your sleep. Groggily you run a shaky hand over your face before rolling over to grab your phone checking the time. You still had about 3 hours before it was time to get up and get ready for work. Knowing you most likely weren’t going to go back to sleep, not that you wanted to anyways, you toss the covers off of you and head to the bathroom.

You turn the water of the shower on, waiting for it to heat up as you stand back up you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror, taking in your disheveled appearance you sigh as you lean over the sink.

There’s visible dark circles under your eyes from being torn from sleep countless times over the last few months. You were sure why the nightmares had started back up again, it had been years since you had been freed from the Weapon X program so why was it all coming back now?

Pulling your tank top over your head you quickly undressed and hopped into the shower. The water cascaded over you, the warmth a welcome relief. You closed your eyes, as you felt your tired muscles slowly start to relax under the soothing spray. Lathering up your soap on a loofa you quickly washed and dried yourself putting on ample amounts of makeup to hide your dark circles.

Once dressed you sat down at your little table in the kitchen and helped yourself to a bowl of cereal as you checked your phone again.

So much shit was happening in the world, genocides, corrupt politicians running for power, starving children. It was all you saw anytime you opened up anything and it was all too much. The world was going to complete shit

You lock your phone and check the time, you still had about an hour before work. Slipping on your shoes you grab your keys and your bag and head out the door nearly bumping into Wade who was munching on a bagel in the hallway.

“Jesus fuck Wade!” You said placing a hand over your rapidly beating heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

“My bad pookie bear. Didn’t know you worked today.” He said with a shrug adjusting his wig as he did so.

“Almost every day this week.” You said with a sigh rubbing a hand down your tired face. You had been doing that a lot lately. “God I’m so tired.”

“I hear OnlyFans is really popping off right now.”Wade said but it was hard to tell if he was joking or not with his straight face.

“Yeah? So what, you and Vanessa can be my only subscribers?” You snorted with an exaggerated laugh.

“I know for a fact Colossus would pay top dollar for a sneak peak of your toes!”

The sound of your ex's name made you grimace. Not that you had any ill will towards him, you were both still good friends albeit a bit awkward now that you’ve dated for a short time, but you still didn’t want the thought of him anyway near anything sexual you did.

“Hard pass.”

“Suit yourself.” Wade said taking another bite from his bagel and you two walked down the hall together.

You start to rub at your forehead as you felt a headache coming on as you walked, another occurrence that had started to happen more and more often.

“More nightmares?” Wade asks, his voice laced with concern as he watched you.

“Yeah…but don’t worry about it Wade.” You could handle yourself, a few ibuprofen and you’d be fine.

He calls your name, as if to say it’s too late not to be worried about you, but you wave him off as you dig around in your backpack for a second before pulling out a small black envelope.

“Happy birthday by the way! You’re hard as fuck to shop for so I hope you like it.” You smile at him as you hold out the gift hoping to change the subject.

With an exaggerated gasp Wade tosses his bagel behind him and holds up his hands up in surprise before taking the envelope from you, and ripping it open. Inside were two tickets to a Celine Dion concert, one of his favorite artists.

“Oh my-!” He starts with a gasp “I didn’t even know she was touring!” He cried excitedly as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“Yeah I had to basically stalk Ticketmaster for those so you’re welcome.” You said returning the hug.

“Sugar booger! I love it!” He said releasing you.

“Now you just gotta figure out who to take with you.” You said as you bump shoulders with him. “Maybe Peter….oooor I don’t know maybe a certain someone we all know and love who works at a particular strip club that we like to visit on occasion?”

“Peanut…” Wade warned, you held up your hands in surrender. It was like a kid trying to get their divorced parents back together.

“Look, all I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt to ask her.”

“I’ll think about it.” He says quietly as he stares out deep in thought.

With that the two of you part ways, wishing each other a good day at work, Wade heading for his bike where Peter was waiting and waving at you, and you heading toward the bus stop.

Work at the pet shop was the same as always, mundane and mind numbing but it paid the rent so who were you to complain about it. You had your fair share of zooted teens coming in to ask dumbass questions and waste your time as well as the occasional fish snob who complained about the size of your tanks but all of that was typical of a normal day and honestly made it go by quicker. By the time you realized what time it was it was time to clock out and head on home to help set up for Wade’s surprise party.

Once home you dropped off your bag and changed your clothes putting on a loose fitted t-shirt and jeans with a cardigan before heading over to Wade’s place with a bunch of drinks. You didn’t drink much but everytime Wade went out on a “business trip”, as he called them, back in his Deadpool days he’d bring you back a bottle of something.

Inside Wade and Blind Al’s apartment across the hall, many of your mutual friends were already busy at work setting up for the party. Colossus Ellie and Yukio were busy blowing up balloons and decorating while Dopinder Buck and Vanessa were busy setting up the food spread.

Looking around yourself you felt a small smile tug at the corner of your lips, all around you were the people you and Wade loved the most and you were incredibly lucky to have them in your lives after everything you all had been through over the years. A pang in your chest made you hold a hand over it and your smile dropped. Something still felt missing though and no matter how hard you thought about it you just couldn’t place what it was.

“How you doing sweetheart?” A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. Whipping around you were pulled into a tight hug by Blind Al.

“I’m doing alright.” You smiled weakly “How’d you know it was me?”

“I’m blind not deaf sweetheart,” she said “ain’t nobody else here sighing that hard but you and Wade and Wade’s not here yet.”

“Sorry.”

“Your dreams still giving you trouble?” She asks as she leads you further into the home.

“I wouldn’t say dreams, more like night terrors but yeah they are a little.” You say as you place the bag said booze you bought on the kitchen counter and follow Al to the living room where she seated herself comfortably in her recliner. “It’s nothing to worry about though.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter baby.”

For someone who was blind Al sure could see right through you sometimes.

“I’m probably just stressed is all.” You try to downplay the situation but Al wasn’t having it.

“It’s been months.” She says matter of factly.

“It’s been a stressful few months.”

“Look… I may not have been there when you and Wade went through what you went through in that program but it’s over now. It’s done and that Ajax guy can’t hurt you anymore.” She said resting a hand in her arm gently.

Al hadn’t been a part of the Weapon X program like you and Wade had been but that hadn’t stopped him from telling her in excruciating detail about all the horrible shit you both had gone through during it.

“I know Al I just-“ you start but stop not fully knowing how to describe what you felt. “I just wish I could switch my brain off, just hit the reset button and be done with it but I- can’t get the memories outta my head.”

“I know sweetheart it’s gonna take time but time ain’t gonna do shit if you don’t let people in to help you.”

You knew she was right but you’d be damned if you’d admit it out loud.

“When did this turn into a therapy session? I thought this was supposed to be a party.”

“Smart ass.” She said tapping you on the leg with her cane. “Go help Vanessa make the jungle juice before he gets home. I’m gonna go see if that dumbass has any Bolivian marching powder left in his stash.” With that she stood to her feet and went to her’s and Wade’s shared bedroom

“Oh Al come on! I thought you guys were done with that.” You called after her with a frown.

“Not till I’m dead babygirl.” She called back and if she could you think she’d wink at you.

Back in the kitchen you and Vanessa make quick work mixing and setting up the drink you bought making light conversation as you do so.

“So-“ she starts off but pauses as if deep in thought for a moment.

“So?” You ask curiously as you take a sip of the alcoholic punch taste testing to see if it needed anything.

“You uh seeing anybody new yet?” She asks.

You nearly choke on your drink in surprise.

“N-no I uh no I’m not.” You stuttered trying to compose yourself. “Are you?”

“Y-yeah there’s this guy. I met him at work, he’s kind.”

You could tell she was lying, but didn’t speak on it.

“Y’know, I hear Colossus has been talking about you to Ellie a lot lately.”

Here we go again you thought.

“Oh nah hard pass we tried that dance already didn’t really work out.” You waved her off, but she continued anyway.

“I’m just saying he’s a nice guy, and he’s big, like everywhere, and made of metal, that’s like totally your thing. Remember when we saw the Winter Soldier and you wouldn’t shut up about Bucky’s metal arm?”

Not she was calling you out.

“Just think about it hun, you're always stuck up in your apartment or at work, you’re lonely and I think a little human connection would do you some good.”

“Yeah alright I’ll think about it.” She smiles at you before caressing your cheek, like she was the big sister you never knew you had.

“But only if you think about giving Wade another chance too.” You slip in “Deal?”

She contemplates for a moment before she smiles back at you again. You knew she still had feelings for the man and so did he.

“Deal.”

Before either of you could change the topic of your conversation the front door opened up again, this time revealing Peter and Wade.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted as Dopinder Ellie and Yukio threw confetti into the air.

“Oh you guys!” Wade gasps dramatically. “You’re lucky I’m not armed!”

“If this was five years ago you’d all be dead.” He laughed as he went around hugging everyone.

The party went on without a hitch. Wade intermingling with everyone as he was passed around the room. You stayed in your own little corner as you watched sipping on your third drink for the evening. Parties weren’t really your thing but for Wade you’d endure them when you had to. Just as you were about to move to get yourself another drink you spotted Wade and Vanessa talking quietly amongst themselves in the kitchen hovering over the punch bowl. With a smile just glad they were finally talking to each other you thought it better not to disturb them for the time being.

Soon after however you all found yourselves piling into the kitchen as Wade called for everyone to come and cut the cake. Wade snapped a few pictures on Yukio’s Polaroid, making some cheesy speech about how lucky he was to be surrounded each and every person he ever loved in one room, something you rolled your eyes at even though you had found yourself thinking the same thing just earlier, before going to make a wish blowing out his birthday candles as he did so.

The party continued to progress throughout the night and the stuffiness of all the bodies in the room was starting to get to you. Excusing yourself from conversing with Buck and Peter you step out into the hallway for a moment to try and get some air. Your head felt like it was swimming, probably from all the alcohol and not enough food, and you were starting to feel nauseated as a pounding sound hammered through your skull. Eventually you decided to take a step outside to get some actual air to see if that would help.

After a handful of greedy gulps of the fresh night air you finally decide to return to the party before anyone came looking for you. Once inside your hallway you spotted Wade first, but he wasn’t alone this time. Surrounding him were at least 5 guys all dressed in black body armor and masks with weird electrical looking batons in their grasps. Immediately your defenses rose as you silently crept up behind them.

“Oh peanut, you came back! I’d offer to let you join in on the orgy but I don’t think this guy here’s down for sharing me.” Wade quips as he sucks on a breath mint leaning on his doorway. His comment drew most of the men’s attention towards you but not before he drew it back to himself. It seemed that they could care less that you were even there. “He’s got this whole hate sex, love 'em and leave' em vibe going for him right now.”

“Shut your mouth clown!” The guy in the front snaps as he goes to grab Wade by his toupee. Just as he grabs it an orange doorway opens up behind Wade and a pair of arms reach out pulling him inside causing his hair system to get ripped off.

“Wade!” You shout as you sprung into action, using all your weight you shove two of the guys causing the three of you to fall through the strange orange doorway just before it closed behind you.

[barcaatthemoon]

glass || alexia putellas x reader ||

you and alexia get tired of having to be so careful around each other.

alexia knew that there was a lot mentally that went into having a partner like you. she had been your friend for years before the two of you made the decision to start a romantic relationship. you had always been a very emotional person, taking everything to heart even if it wasn't personal. alexia understood that there was a certain tact that had to be used whenever you hit a depressive episode.

for the most part, alexia had mastered how to take care of you when things got bad. she would have walked away from football completely for you, and almost had before. she had taken little breaks, only as much time as you'd allow her. now though, she was torn between doing what you wanted and what she felt was right.

everything that you were going through, alexia went through with you. if you were suffering in silence, then she sat there trying to figure out how to help you. you wanted her to move on, but she couldn't go forward without making sure that you were following her. it had caused quite a few fights, and was why alexia was currently losing her mind at her sister's while she waited for you to text her.

"alexia, you're going to pace a hole right through the floor," alba said, hopeful that her words would distract alexia a bit. "if you are so worried about (y/n), why don't you just go over there? it's your house too."

"she asked for some space, alba. i don't want to crowd her," alexia said. it was very decisive, and alba wished that alexia would have stuck with it. instead, the woman was up and pacing around again before she finally stormed off to get you. alba hadn't been a fan of having alexia there instead of with you, but you had actually asked for alexia to leave for the night. in alexia's mind, now that it was morning, she was free to come check on you.

it wasn't that alexia didn't trust you because there was nobody else in the world that she trusted more. alexia was just scared that you'd get reckless. most of the time when you hurt yourself, it was an accident. it was when you threw caution to the wind that alexia truly got scared.

"(y/n)? it's me, alexia. i'm here to get some things and see how you're doing!" alexia called out into the apartment. you smiled a little to yourself as you walked out of the kitchen. alexia's face dropped as she saw you holding a kitchen towel over your hand. "what happened?"

"it's fine, i was just trying to make something for breakfast. i was going to call you over, but i was never good at cutting the meat." you were far more relaxed about this than alexia was. she rushed over to inspect your cut as it flowed blood into the towel.

"i can't leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can i?" alexia sounded angry. every movement she made was overly aggressive as she dragged you to the bathroom to clean you up.

"alexia, i can take care of myself," you tried to tell her. you tried to break away from her, which snapped alexia out of whatever little mood she had been in. "it's fine. i mean, i'm fine, so it's okay. it was an accident, you'd know that if you had let me get a word in."

"it's not just this, but i am sorry. i reacted badly," alexia apologized. she leaned back against the sink as she watched you wrap your hand. "we should go to the hospital for that."

"it's just a cut. you opened it when you grabbed my wrist like that, give it a moment and it'll stop," you told her. alexia sighed as she tried to move towards you. you flinched away, and alexia swore that she felt her heart shatter in her chest. "i'm going to clean up in the kitchen. i'm not very hungry anymore."

"no, (y/n) wait! go in the living room, i'll make us breakfast," alexia offered. you wanted to just crawl into bed and forget about the world until training, but alexia wouldn't let that happen. you walked past her wordlessly and settled on the couch, watching from there as alexia moved around the kitchen to finish breakfast. it was pretty obvious to her what you had started, so with a bit of difficulty, alexia finished.

"it looks good, you didn't burn the eggs this time," you complimented. alexia turned slightly, just enough to hide her plate from you. truthfully, you could smell the bit of egg that had definitely burnt, but you didn't want to pick any fights with alexia. you didn't have the energy to argue anymore.

"i'm sorry that i got angry earlier. i want you to know that i wasn't mad at you, i was just scared. alba told me not to stay the night, that i should march my sorry ass back here and just stay in my office. i only came back here because i was scared when you hadn't said good morning. i tried to do things right by you, but instead, i fucked up. i'm mad at myself," alexia explained.

"i'm mad that you don't trust me anymore. maybe you never did, but you were better at hiding it then. now, it's like we're both trying to dance with broken glass all over the floor. you're graceful and agile, but i keep stomping on the pieces and making it worse."

"then let's be up front about it. we'll stop pretending that the glass isn't there. i get scared when you stop caring because what if something happens and you don't try to stop it? you could leave without me, but i couldn't live with myself if something happened to you." you glanced over at alexia, who was fully crying now. there had once been a time when you'd have burst into sympathetic tears, but now all you felt was guilt. you felt awful about yourself for scaring her like this, even if none of it was on purpose. "talk to me, please."

"i'll be more careful. it's not for myself right now, it's for you, but that's one hell of a reason to take care of myself. i'll go through the proper steps to try and get better. it's not fair after i've been like this to just ask you to trust me when i wouldn't trust myself. i made this mess, and i'm happy that you aren't going to make me clean it up by myself."

"thank you," alexia mumbled as she leaned over to press a kiss to the side of your forehead. you settled back against the couch with one of her arms around your shoulders. alexia picked at her plate until you gave her half of yours and put in an order for delivery.

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco - Epilogue

Dead Disco masterlist Ghost/Soap/female reader The end.

You’re having trouble breathing.

It doesn’t help that you’re hiding in the back, peeking around the corner every so often, trying to interpret everyone’s faces. 

It’s terrifying. You’re terrified. 

“Hello?” Lea calls from the other side of the hallway, hands turned upwards like she’s confused. “What are you doing?” 

“Shhh!” You hiss, grabbing her by the wrist. “I’m hiding.” 

“Okay… why are we hiding?” 

“I can’t go out there.” The denial is steadfast, and she shakes her head. 

“You have to. You’re the artist.”

“I know. And that’s why I can’t go. They’re all… looking at me. Judging me.” 

“They’re appreciating you, love. They’re appreciating your work.” You shiver. It’s not just your work out there. It’s a collection of your pieces, moments and feelings worked out on canvas, agony and elation painted together into something called art. 

“I can’t go out there.” You double down, and she rubs your shoulder sympathetically. 

“You have to.” 

It’s not so bad. You finally appear from the back, and the gallery host introduces you as the artist. Everyone claps. 

As you make your rounds, you start to notice small stickers on the plaques, signifying the sale of a piece, and it warms you, happiness spreading from fingers to toes, fills you with pride.

People stop to talk to you, shake your hand, ask you about certain pieces. You find answering their questions is not as painful as you imagined, and their compliments make you feel lighter. You circle the room, finally coming to a stop in front of the biggest piece in the entire gallery. 

At first glance, you think it’s hard to discern what’s really going on, but the longer you stare at it, the more the puzzle comes together. Or at least, you think so. You’ve been staring at it for four years. 

It’s an expressionist piece, as all your paintings are, but this one is a touch abstract, stroked together in a way that seems almost unintentional. 

It’s a painting of conflicting colors, some dark and moody, others bright. A push, and a pull.  Three bodies lay on a bed, diaphragms torn open and bleeding. They're all reaching into each other's chests, blood coating their arms, curled up so tightly together it’s hard to discern where one ends and the other begins in some strokes. 

There’s no emotion scrawled into their features, nothing to interpret. You did it intentionally, hoping to direct the focus to the piece as a whole. That’s the only way it works. The only way it makes sense. 

“I like this one. It's intriguing. Feels sad, almost.” Someone says behind you, and you turn to see a tall man staring at it with a thoughtful gaze. Studying. “Will you tell me about it?” 

Emotion clogs your throat. Your fingers trace over the plaque bearing its name. 

Darling.

“It’s a love story.” 

The bar stool is one of the spinning ones. 

You keep turning around in it, in circles, laughing as Lea rolls her eyes. “Babe, you’re going to fall.” You tsk. 

“You’re literally no fun.” 

“We’re here celebrating you. I don’t want to be doing that in a hospital when you break a bone falling off that stool.” She tips her head towards the bartender. “Can we get another round please?” 

“Sure thing.” You like this place. It’s got great natural light in the day, big, tall windows and sage green walls, gold accents littered throughout. It feels homey, and sweet. 

“I think that went really well. How do you feel about it?” 

How do you feel. 

“I think so too. Once I got over the nerves I… I thought it was good.” 

“You sold a lot of paintings.” 

“I know.” You laugh. That’s the surprise of the night, if you’re being honest. The number of pieces you sold, to other galleries, to a museum. 

A wild dream turned reality. 

“You’re going to be a big-time fancy painter now, watch.” 

“I’m sure that’s either a long way off, or not going to happen. Either way, I’m really happy. I’m really proud of myself.” The two of you sip your new drinks, and you twist again on the stool. 

“Someone tried to buy Darling.” Lea says gently, eyes soft. 

“I know.” 

“You’re sure you didn’t want to sell it?” You shake your head. It might be your best, biggest piece, but it will never know a home other than yours. You started painting it four years ago, the first night you left her behind, and she’ll never belong to anyone, except you. She’s safe with you, protected by you, loved by you, like she always should have been. 

Like she was, so reverently, by them. 

You didn’t even want to display it tonight, if you’re being honest.  But Lea convinced you, and you found it in yourself to be brave. 

She lets you sit in your silence for a while, which you appreciate. She’s a true friend, one that doesn’t pressure you to do things or say things for the sake of them. 

Usually.

“Well,” she clinks her glass against yours with a mischievous smile and then says much too loudly, loud enough faces and bodies turn towards yours in the bar, “here’s to my favorite painter and her first gallery showing.” Some people clap. Some people cheer. You glare at her. “What? Opposed to free drinks?” You spin on the stool again, smiling, and then catch a flash of someone walking towards a door, muscled shoulders- 

And a mohawk. 

Your heart trips over itself. 

“I’ll be right back.” You tell Lea, who gives you a confused look, but you’re already moving through the room, unsteady on your heels. 

You burst through the door into the cool air, autumn nipping at your exposed skin, and look up and down the street. Your pulse ricochets in your ears. 

They’re a block away. The night is dark, and the streetlights are yellow, but you’d know them anywhere. 

“Hey!” You yell. “Wait!” They turn, and you teeter towards them as fast as you can manage, startling to a stop a few feet before them. 

Your heart hammers inside your chest. Standing here, staring at them, taking them in, soaking in it. They look good. Happy. Healthy. Johnny’s skin is glowing, Simon somehow seems bulkier than he did four years ago, but the weight suits him. 

“Hi.” You breathe. 

“Hi.” Johnny’s eyes sparkle, Simon’s lips turning up in a barely-there smile. 

Words fail you. For the first time in a while, you don’t know what to say. Hundreds of thousands of things try to get free, but none of them make it, though your mouth opens. Nothing comes out. 

“We saw yer name on the sign outside the gallery down the street earlier. Congratulations.” 

“Thank you. It was… really neat.” Lame.

“It’s a big accomplishment. You must be very proud.” Johnny’s gaze never leave yours, and you nod. 

“I am.” The three of you stand there, staring at one another. 

“Well, we should get going.” Simon breaks first. 

“Right. Of course. Uh, it was… it was good to see you.” 

“Ye too.” You let them get half a block away, not even. 

You know what you want to say. Delayed, held on your tongue too long in a wash of uncertainty, but it arises clear as day.  

“Wait!” They turn, you take a deep breath. “Would you… would you maybe want to have dinner, or something, sometime? Catch up?” 

“We’d love to.” It feels different now, but the good pieces, albeit changed, shifted, are still there. 

“Great, it’s a… plan. To have dinner. Or something.” Johnny smiles, and Simon nods. 

“It’s a plan. You’ll text us?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“See ye soon, then.” 

“Okay. See you soon.” 

[petriwriting]

Promise. - Theodore Nott X Reader

Summary: Theodore gives Y/N a special gift, reminding them that they are his safety in an unsafe world.

A/N: I would imagine this takes place in 6th year, 'cause you know.. Voldemort. But beware I've been really into writing fluff for my comfort characters lately. This is very angsty. Extra heartbreak points if one of them dies at the battle of Hogwarts, use your imagination.

Late-night walks were common for the pair. Especially when they needed to get away for the night, with everyone going on in their world it was no wonder they both needed a break.

Theodore Nott was under the threat of his father, expected to side with Lord Voldemort, it was his reputation as a pure-blooded Slytherin. Perhaps in some sickening way, he felt the need to clear the family name of his father's wrongdoing. But deep down, he knew it wasn't right. They both did.

Y/n was by his side, as loyal as a Hufflepuff. through everything. On the nights his father became aggressive and violent, Theo came to them seeking refuge. Y/n always welcomed the boy with open arms.

They had been a pair since childhood, they attended dinner parties together, and y/n attended every one of Theo's quidditch games. In turn, Theo was there for y/n when classes were stressful, and life felt overwhelming.

It wasn't until that particular evening that things would change, possibly forever.

The two walked along the empty, quiet streets braving the cold air together. they had both been quiet, observing their surroundings and enjoying each other's company in silence.

"Y/n," Theo finally said, shattering the long silence that had been following them.

"hmm?" y/n's voice was soft, quiet. they were now entering a park square. someplace slightly more private than the streets.

"I've been thinking."

"About what?"

"About us."

y/n's heart began to race. surely this wasn't a breakup, how could Theo possibly be abandoning all they had, after all, they had been through? this couldn't be. y/n was so accustomed to hearing bad news these days that it was the only solution their brain could come up with.

"Y/n," Theo turned to them, holding their face in cold pale hands. "I love you, but I don't want to be with you in this war," he said.

"Teddy, I don't understand-"

"Please just listen." Theo insisted quietly. "This is not me parting ways with you, I- could never," he explained gently. "I propose that we run away. change our names, we can flee and start a new life together. without all the dangers of being here."

Y/n was unconvinced and looked down for a moment before locking eyes with him.

"I love you more than anything. But if we stay here our lives will be in danger, possibly forever."

Y/n couldn't deny that fact. The war had already taken people they both loved. It wasn't right to be talking about wanting to get married one day, have kids, and grow old together if it meant they would be living in danger, living in fear.

"It isn't right. We can't just flee. we need to fight this," y.n shook their head gently, partially in disbelief. "no matter what happens." the pair locked eyes and the snow began to gently fall around them, coating the park in a grey glow.

"Then promise me."

Theodore shuffled through his pockets, pulling out a tiny deep red velvet box. It was battered, aged, and torn. but it was still soft. "Promise me, that you'll stick around, no matter what." as soon as Theo mimicked y/n's words, soft tears began falling from their eyes, watching him toy with the box.

Out from the box emerged a shiny, silver ring with an elaborate stone placed in it. something very expensive no doubt. something that was purchased with his father's money. Theodore offered the ring to y/n.

"This was my mother's ring," he said quietly, his voice slightly shaking. "I took it from her things when she,-" Theo gasped quietly, the shaky breath taking the air out of his lungs when he tried to continue his sentence.

Y/n grabbed the sides of his face, the boy wasn't crying, Theodore rarely ever cried. but there was hurt in his eyes that pained y/n to see.

"I promise." barely a whisper. "no matter what Theo, I'll always be right here."

Y/n's soft touch brushed against Theo's cheeks before he pulled forward pressing their lips together in desperation. It was a sweet and heartfelt kiss, like two lovers that couldn't live without each other.

After the kiss, they embraced one another very tightly as the snow collected around them.

"I just want everything to be okay," Y/n whispered. "we'll be okay."

they pulled away from one another, each shivering in the cold. Y/n took the ring and gently twirled it around their thumb and forefinger. "Theo I can not take your mother's ring." it was dazzling. quite beautiful for that sort of thing. "I know how much this means to you." y/n said. Theo was insistent. "I've been wrong about a lot of things in my life, y/n. But I was never wrong about you. I want you to have it, keep it, my end of our promise." he insisted.

"Theo-"

y/n was promptly cut off. "Please take this. you know how much it means to me, you mean more than that." his heartfelt confession made y/n's stomach flutter, it was that same feeling they had when they were younger and Theo would hold their hand or say just the right thing. Theo grabbed the ring and slipped it onto y/n's middle finger.

"I'll guard it with my life." y/n said with another shiver, the later the night grew the colder the chill in the air became.

"Here, love," Theo said, taking off his coat and offering it to Y/n by draping it around their shoulders. "but Theo, you'll be cold." y/n retorted, but Theo was incredibly insistent that evening. "I can manage until we are safe at home," he chuckled softly. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

As the two continued on their path, Theo wrapped their arm around y/n, in an effort to keep them warm and as an act of deep affection. Y/n leaned their head over onto Theo's arm.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Torn III

Kewis x Child!Reader

Summary: You're still sick

Mommy doesn't get you dressed properly the next day.

She lets you stay in your pyjamas because you're sick. She's sick too but not as sick as you.

Mom, of course, still has her hurt knee but she's the only one not sick in the entire house.

Your head pounds and your nose remains stuffy even as you play with your dinosaur toys, making them attack each other because they're in a war and that's what things do in a war. They fight.

"Open," Mommy says and you firmly clamp your teeth together," Chook, I'm not joking. Open."

She's got a syringe full of medicine in her hands and you refuse to open your mouth.

You've never had good tasting medicine before and you refuse to believe that Mommy's gone out and bought some.

You keep your mouth shut.

"Chook," She says sternly," This will make you feel better."

You sniff, wiping your nose on your shirt and shake your head. You know if you talk, Mommy's going to dose you up so you settle on just glaring, puffing out your cheeks to show her that you're wise to her tricks.

"Chook," She says again," We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, you're taking your medicine."

"Chook," Mom says from the sofa," Come here."

Warily, you skirt around Mommy and run over to Mom, who lifts you up to sit next to her. Immediately, she attacks your sides with tickles and you can't keep your mouth closed anymore, opening it to let out peals of giggles.

Mommy squirts the medicine down your throat and Mom's ticklish hands disappear.

You glare, eyebrows drawing together in outrage. "That was mean!" You say," You cheated!"

Mommy laughs, ruffling your hair. "It was sneaky," She says," Not cheating. You'll feel better soon."

You huff but know she's right, shuffling off the sofa to return to your toys.

Helen joins you, curling up next to your side. Her ear flicks a few times as you continue your dino war. You have to blow your nose a few times because it gets clogged but Mommy is right because the churning of your stomach settles and your head no longer feels like it does when you bang it on a wall by accident.

"What do you want to watch?" Sam asks, channel surfing as she keeps one eye on you playing with Helen.

Kristie sighs. She doesn't look as bad as you did but it's still clear she's sick. She's got a bit of a fever and the end of her nose is all red. "Something that requires me to not think," She groans, massaging her temples to stem off the headache. She's only recently taken her own painkillers so she has a bit of wait until they kick in.

"So trash reality tv?" Sam teases and Kristie whacks her with a pillow.

You're playing nicely on the rug with Helen and your dinosaurs despite how ill you are.

Maybe eating all that dirt gave you a stronger immune system than Kristie thought.

"There's Love Island," Sam offers and you whip your head around.

"No!" You say," That's mine and Auntie Millie's show! You can't watch it! It'll spoil it!"

You sound adamant and Kristie manages to get out a laugh that could have been a cough.

"It's not a new episode, Chook," Sam assures you with her own laugh," It's last season. It's not going to spoil anything."

Your brow furrows for a moment before you're up on your feet. You've got two dinosaurs clutched in your hands as you wiggle yourself between your mothers.

They're sitting close enough that their legs are touching so you make sure to force them apart so you can be comfortable.

"Last season was okay," You tell Kristie very seriously," I will watch with you so you know what's going to happen. Mom, you need to put on Love Island."

Sam keeps laughing. "Oh? I need to, do I Chook?"

"Yes. That's what I just said. You need to, Mom."

With the other options being Deal or No Deal and Flog It, Sam's pretty sure that Love Island was truly her only option and changes the channel.

Clearly, the medicine has perked you up a bit because Kristie doesn't get a moment of respite the entire episode as you narrate what's going on during every single little moment.

Somehow, you manage to put yourself to sleep during it until you're lying draped over Sam and Kristie's laps.

"And we just let Millie watch this show with her?" Kristie asks, dumbstruck and Sam chuckles nervously.

"I didn't think she actually absorbed this much of it," Sam replies," It's like she studied it or something."

You shift a little in your sleep, death gripping your plastic dinosaurs so hard that Kristie can't pry them from your hands.

"Well," Kristie says," At least she's taking her nap without arguing."

"You mean, at least you can take your nap without her interrupting," Sam teases and Kristie rolls her eyes.

She lifts your limp body easily into her arms as she stands up. "Well, just for that. I don't think you can join us for naptime."

"Hey...Kristie! Kristie, wait! I'm sorry! Wait for me!"

Kristie doesn't wait for Sam though as she makes her way to their bedroom.

She settles you in the very middle of the bed but slipping in next to you.

You wiggle a little bit as Kristie tugs you closer, laying a protective hand over your belly just as Sam hobbles in, taking her own place in bed on your other side.

Helen joins in too, leaping up onto the bed and curling herself up around your feet.

"You have to get her to take medicine when we wake up," Kristie says, already half asleep.

"No fair! She's wise to my tricks now!"

"Not my problem, Sam."

[badly-drawn-doflamingo]

The Brutality (and some censoring) Of The Rumbar Deaths.

Similar to my piece on Yorki and his lil sickness, this is again just something that haunts me constantly and is honestly something I don’t see anyone else talking about. Maybe this is because I have Rumbar Pirates autism. The deaths of the Rumbar Pirates are often thought to just be the snippet we see during their final moments, however Oda paints a much darker picture, with such dark hues the anime had to censor some of this. More than just Binks Sake happened to these men.

To begin, I am going to introduce you all to a certain Rumbar Pirate. Pirates.

This is Madaisuki! He has a twin brother named Madawadasuki Mizuta!

These Mizuta boys are named this because they are the japanese pun of “I love DOTS!” and “Dots ain’t half bad!” We know they were young, and that they wanted to be just like Brook. (I will go over these statements a bit later.) They wore matching clothing, mirroring one another as some twins do, having a tight bond. We already know their candles were snuffed out too short, but do you know how this happened to each? Madawadasuki is shown in the Bink’s Sake flashback, blood pooling on his temple and matting some of his hair. He looks tired, but with a smile, plays on with the other remaining crew. That is the key word here, remaining. There were hundreds of men on this ship yet THIS is what we see surrounding Brook on the deck? Where are the rest. THAT is where Madaisuki comes in. 

Madaisuki does not die on screen, but his body, just the body, is gruesome enough that the anime had to censor it. When we find the young man, he is in one of the off rooms, looks to be the dining area, thrown onto the floor with his arms outstretched, with his hair still attached to the skull.

This is not the reason behind the censoring, no, the reason is the cause of death.

Plunged into his skull and back, pinning his body to the floor with his jaw still open, are his own weapons. His own swords pin his body to the floor, so even if he somehow survived the attack, he could not get up, however with your own blade through your brain case and into the blood spattered floor below you, that is not much of an option. Those swords.. they also are made to mirror YORKI’S. They both wanted to be just like their Captains.

[ more info on Maddy here ]

This leaves a few things open for the reader to take in. Why is he tucked away in an off room like this? Well, it means the battle either continued into these rooms, not just on deck, which is more than likely shown by the shattered mirrors and doors in the bedrooms and hallways we see, or poor Madaisuki was cornered, overpowered, and butchered.

In any case, this means his brother either also saw this and continued to smile and sing for Laboon, or held a hope that somehow, his twin was just somewhere else, tucked away to die in peace. How many other men died this way, for we see bedroom doors torn off hinges and blood spattering the walls.

Time does do that, a butchering does.

This is just one body, one upon hundreds, we know this because of a line Franky states so casually I am unsure if the anime added it; “We could not carry them all, we buried them here. The weight was too much for the Sunny to take.”

The weight was too much for the Sunny to take.

How many men died, because those multiple upon multiple coffins were not filled with bodies, but skulls. Only skulls.

If the ship cannot carry it, how do we expect BROOK?? He must hold grief for he was acting Captian, these things on his head alone, and knowing he failed his partner, my god, that must ache. To know you created widows, fatherless children, families who will never know if their little boys or men or partners or fathers would come home. No closure, only Brook, and the poison that caused the remaining light-hearted musicians to bleed out in their little heap.

When Brook picks up the skull of Madaisuki, a memory comes to mind. Perhaps not a recent one, for he knew them for many years, but one that stood out to him. One Oda chose for us to see as a representation of Brook’s thoughts;

“You’re awesome, Brook! Can you teach me to swordfight like you?”

We see the body, with his own weapons used against him, holding his corpse in place with a hole blasted through his brain. His polka dots he adored are spattered as well, torn where his ribcage was cut open. Brook failed him. He failed them all, in his eyes, not the viewer or actuality. And this breaks my heart.

Update 1.0

Absolutely I think he does have his.. odd crew moments/interactions.

Sanji at the right angle, asking for something and the response is a slip up of “yes, my Captain!” In such a tone that Sanji could mistake himself as more than a crewmate in Brook’s eyes.

Somedays they finds the skeleton speaking to himself, small quolms or questions, asking to an invisible force in silence.

“John, how did you make your coffee again?”

“Madaisuki, how do you do this..?”

Some nights, he’s found over the beds, absent in all human aspects but dead, mute and upsettingly still.

When Usopp asks, after minutes of motionless, creeping anxiety, why does he just stand, why does he watch?

“I want to make sure you’re breathing! It means you’re real.”

[persevereforahappyending]

This isn't Your Fault

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: “Tara,” you said, the calmness of your voice surprising you. “This isn’t you fault.”

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 3.3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

“Hey, babe,” you answered the phone cheerfully. “How was the party?” Tara had begged you to go to the frat party, but you declined. As much as you loved the girl, there was no way in hell she was going to get you to go to a frat party. You already hated parties and socializing in general. There was nothing in the world that could convince you to go to something that involved both, especially when all the people involved would be drinking.

“Ugh,” Tara groaned. “It was going great until Sam showed up and tased someone in the balls.”

“I’m sorry?” you weren’t sure you heard her right, it sounded like she said her sister tased someone in the balls. You opened a cabinet, grabbing a glass.

“There was some drunk frat douche who may have been trying to get me to come upstairs with him.”

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You knew Tara was smiling into her phone just from the way her voice softened, it brought a smile to your face as well.

Tara loved when someone cared about her. She loved when someone cared enough to be there for her and protect her. You knew that, just from the way her eyes always lit up when you’d check in or instantly come over if she was having a bad day. You saw it in the way despite wanting freedom from her sister, she still respected her and wanted her approval. You and Tara had been dating for over six months now and she still refused to introduce you to her sister. You had met her friends but none of them knew you guys were dating. You understood, truly, after what they had all been through you got that they were hesitant to trust strangers. Even though she said she was afraid of how Sam would react, and that she’d scare you off you knew the real reason Tara didn’t want to introduce you yet was because she was afraid Sam wouldn’t approve of you.

You believed your relationship with Tara was stronger than that, that Tara wouldn’t break up with you just because her sister or friends didn’t like you. You knew it would make things difficult though. If they didn’t like you, or really if Sam didn’t like you, you knew Tara would be hurt. She’d be torn between being with you and knowing her sister didn’t approve. Which is why until Tara was ready, you were more than happy to wait to officially meet Sam.

“Chad stopped the guy, getting into a fight in the process,” Tara continued.

You smiled at that; you knew there was always a reason you liked Chad. “Good,” you said instead.

“Then Sam showed up and the tasing happened,” she let out a long sigh. “I just want a normal life.”

“I know,” you whispered sympathetically. “You know she just wants to keep you safe though, right?”

Tara groaned, causing you to laugh. “I know,” she mumbled. “This is just the exact reason why I won’t introduce you.” You could imagine Tara throwing up her hands as she said that. “She wants me to open up and share with her but then when I try to have a life outside of the friend group, she tases someone!”

“Whenever you decide to introduce me, I’m sure it will go fine.” You reached above the island, grabbing one of the pans hanging and set it on the stove. “I’m sure I won’t get tased.” You walked around the island, moving to grab the food you intended to have for dinner before pausing in your tracks. “Right?” you asked hesitantly with an awkward chuckle before you got to moving again.

“Maybe,” Tara mumbled. Your steps paused again, you wanted to meet the most important person in Tara’s life, but Tara was making it incredibly difficult for you to not be terrified of her sister. “Just stand behind me when that eventual meeting happens.”

You let out a nervous chuckle. You were sure it would go fine. You were sure that Sam would probably glare at you and maybe judge you right away, assuming you were out to get them or something. You hoped though that eventually Sam would warm up to you. You were sure Sam could be scary, you’d seen her staring down anyone who so much glanced at her wrong when she followed Tara somewhere, she was certainly one intimidating woman. You knew she was really just incredibly protective over her little sister, a bit overprotective if you asked Tara.

Her friends weren’t much different, at least Mindy and Chad, the ones who survived Woodsboro with them. You had met them in casual settings, at parties, in the library, and even shared a class with Mindy. They were all a tight knit group, they talked with others but letting someone in their friend group was a process apparently. When you eventually officially met them, you were sure you’d be interrogated by Mindy and Chad would probably be like Sam, glaring at you from across the room. Out of the three of them Tara said Mindy was the calmer more reasonable one, but she could get a little intense when she was going over a suspect list or accusing people of murders.

Mindy was the one you were the least worried about. You actually had a couple classes with Anika and worked together on a few papers. You still hadn’t met Mindy enough to walk up and talk to her, but she would give you a nod if she saw you and she was always nice when she came to pick Anika up from a study session. She would also usually squint at you, watching you for anything suspicious but she did that with most people, so you didn’t take it personally.

“My fearless protector,” you said softly.

“Shut up,” Tara said.

You chuckled, shaking your head. Tara was short and everyone underestimated her. The truth was she had just as much fight in her as her sister. Whenever you were out if someone made a rude comment or God forbid hit on you, Tara would shoot them a furious glare that would make anyone on the receiving end wish they were dead. There was even one time when you were out and someone recognized Tara, then the moron decided to make a comment about Sam, and you were lucky to pull Tara out of there before the police could be called. She about launched herself over the table, arms already out and ready to strangle the man.

Your laughter quickly ended when you heard a creak. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t take the phone away from your ear as you glanced down the hall. You didn’t see anyone, and the front door was still closed. You were the only one home, your parents being out of town for the week. You swore you heard the floor creak though. Every fiber of your body told you to not go down the hall, the little alarm going off in your head screaming that something wasn’t right.

“You, okay?” Tara asked. You could hear the concern in her voice.

“Yeah,” you answered distractedly. You cleared your throat saying, “Yeah,” again more convincingly. “So, what’s planned for the rest of the night?” you decided to change the subject.

“Sleep,” Tara mumbled. “I’m already starting to feel this hangover. Can I come over tomorrow?”

“Is that a good idea?” You swung around the island, resting your hand on the refrigerator door. “I doubt Sam will want you out of her sight after tonight.”

“Fuck what she wants. I miss you,” she whined.

You glanced up from the floor, catching the reflection of a white mask in the window as you opened the fridge door. You swallowed, preparing yourself for what was about to happen.

“Tara,” you said, the calmness of your voice surprising you. “This isn’t you fault.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

You slammed the refrigerator door closed, spinning around to face your attacker just as he swung his knife, the metal blade clashing against the steel fridge door. You ran towards the stove, letting your phone clatter onto the island as you empty your hands to grab the pan you had intended to use to cook dinner.

You brought the pan up just as Ghostface brought his knife down towards you. The sound of metal against metal filling the air. You moved the pan, blocking every slash and every stab. At one point when he went to stab you instead of blocking you brought the pan up, swinging it down hard on his hand that held the knife. He groaned, dropping the knife in the process. You brought the pan back up, whacking him across the face. He stumbled to the side, catching himself on the counter. You brought the pan down on his head again. While he was down on his knees you turned and ran, reaching over the island to grab your phone again.

You ran down the hall, sliding into the front door, after taking the turn a little too tight. You had your hand on the doorknob when you saw Ghostface already on his feet again, making his way to you. You changed course, running up the stairs to your room instead. You heard the knife impale the front door, cracking the wood as it was yanked out.

You reached your room, slamming the door behind you, knowing it would only buy you a few extra seconds. You jumped on your bed, rolling over the other side as gracefully as you could. You grabbed the baseball bat you always had resting against the wall by your bedside, getting in a swinging position as you stared down the door, waiting for Ghostface to burst through.

You held the phone in your hand, the same one that was gripping the bat. You vaguely heard Tara’s voice coming through the speaker, you knew she must be going out of her mind not knowing what was happening. You wanted to answer her, tell her Ghostface was here and to get out of town as fast as she could. You couldn’t release your grip on the bat though, your eyes were glued to your bedroom door.

The bedroom door shuddered as if someone was pounding on it. With each shake you stepped back, bumping into the wall behind you. You tightened your grip on the bat, your knuckles turning white. When suddenly the shuddering stopped. You held your breath as the doorknob slowly turned, the door squeaking open. Standing in the doorway was Ghostface, knife shining at his side. He tilted his head at you as he stepped into your room, crossing over the invisible threshold.

You and Ghostface watched each other, waiting for the other to make their move. It was so quiet you could swear you heard your own heart beating. In the blink of an eye Ghostface surged forward, launching himself over the bed, he didn’t make it over your bed in one jump though. His feet got caught up in the blankets causing him to stumble down.

You took the opportunity to run around the side of the bed, narrowly missing a swipe of Ghostface’s knife as he swung out at you. You heard a light thud then realized you had a better grip on your bat, you had dropped your phone. You slid to a stop just as you hit the stairs, gripping the railing so you didn’t go flying down them. You quickly recovered, rushing down the steps as quick as possible. Part of you wanted to go back for your phone but you knew doing so would only end in your death.

You got to the front door, turning the knob to unlock it then flung the door open. Ghostface stomped down the steps, jumping when he was halfway, slamming his body into the open door, effectively closing it again. You stumbled back, barely getting out of the way of the door about to crush your arm.

Ghostface pushed himself off the door with a grunt, jumping right at you. He knocked you to the ground, the force of his tackle causing you to let go of your bat.

You looked at your bat, rolling just out of reach. You looked back up, seeing Ghostface hovering over you. He gripped his knife in his right hand, swiftly bringing it down towards your chest.

You caught his wrist just as the knife touched your shirt, pushing back against him so it was now hovering a few inches from your chest. He brought his other hand over, putting more weight on the hand with the knife. It inched closer and closer to your chest. You stared up at the white mask, into the hollow black eyes. You knew there was a person behind the mask, but you couldn’t make out any features.

You kicked your legs, trying to get any leverage on him. You brought your knee up, knowing for sure he was a he by the way he groaned, loosening his grip on the knife. You knocked the knife out of his hand, rolling out from under him in the processes.

He moved slowly, still clearly in pain from your hit. He reached over, stretching out his hand towards his knife. You were closer, reaching up and smacking it across the floor.

You were on your knees about to pull yourself up the rest of the way when you looked up seeing Ghostface standing above you, he had recovered before you. He sent three swift kicks to your stomach, knocking the breath out of you. You rolled over onto your back, looking up at him as you gasped for breath.

You rolled over again, trying to bring yourself back to your feet, there was no way you were going down without a fight. Your hands were spread out, face down on the floor to help push you up. Ghostface walked closer to you, the only thing you saw were his boots stopping before you.

Ghostface lifted his leg high, bringing his heavy combat boot down onto your hand. He gave his boot a final twist, allowing you to hear the crunch of your bones before he took his foot away. You rolled back onto your back, clutching your hand as you screamed in pain. Tears were already streaming down your face as you tried to regain control of your breathing.

Ghostface walked around you, moving towards his knife. You pressed your injured hand to your chest, reaching out towards your bat with the other hand. Ghostface forgot about his knife, kneeling down in front of you, tilting his head as he watched you struggle trying to reach the bat. He picked the bat up just as your fingertips grazed the handle.

He stood above you, tilting his head as he shook the bat back and forth in a taunting manor before raising it above his head.

“No!” you screamed right before Ghostface brought the bat down onto your ribs.

He brought the bat down again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

The force of his swings never letting up. You struggled to catch your breath. Gasping for air as you took short shallow breaths, you couldn’t take a deep breath.

There was what sounded like tires screeching outside. Through bleary vision you could see Ghostface look up and out the window before dropping your bat with a clang and bolting towards the backdoor.

“Y/N!” someone shouted. You blinked your eyes slowly, your eyelids becoming heavy.

The next thing you were aware of was a warm pressure on your shoulder. You turned your head to see a hand resting on your shoulder. Your eyes trailed from the hand, up an arm, and to a face, your girlfriends face, Tara’s face. You saw blurry figures beside her that you couldn’t make out. You could only stare into Tara’s worried eyes. She seemed to be sobbing, her mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear the words coming out before your eyes slowly shut, everything going black.

When you opened your eyes again you were in a dark room, panic instantly shot through you. You tried to sit up, instantly hissing in pain. You sucked in a breath but once again, pained shot through you. You dropped your head back down, taking small breaths. It didn’t feel like you were on the hard wood floor anymore, whatever was behind your head felt soft and fluffy. Your eyes darted all around the room, not recognizing your surroundings, the walls were bare and basic, you didn’t know where you were.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tara whispered softly, her tear-stained face appearing above you. “You’re okay,” she gripped your hand tightly with her own, brushing your hair out of your face with her other hand. “You’re in the hospital.”

“Wh-what are you doing here?” you rasped out, your dry mouth the least of your worries because each word caused pain to shoot through you.

“I needed to make sure you were okay.” You caught movement out of the side of your eye, seeing someone else had been in the room and was slipping out to give you and Tara privacy. You didn’t get a good visual and you’d only ever seen pictures Tara showed you, but it almost looked like Sam.

“You-you need to get out of town.” You gritted your teeth, trying to swallow the pain. “You need to get somewhere safe.”

“No, no, I’m not leaving you,” she shook her head as if she couldn’t believe you said that. “I’m not leaving you,” she repeated, leaving you no more room to argue.

Your eyes drifted to your hand not intertwined with Tara’s, it was wrapped in a cast. The cast covered your entire hand, going up all your fingers, leaving only your pointer one free, then it stretched down just past your wrist so you couldn’t bend it. The only thought that went through your mind oddly was that you were just glad it hadn’t been your dominant hand.

You looked back up at Tara, noticing she was staring at your injured hand as well. “How are you feeling?” she asked, not able to peel her eyes away from the cast.

“If I sit completely still and don’t breathe then the pain is only agonizing,” you answered. “Instead of excruciating.”

“I’m sorry,” Tara whispered, tears already beginning to fill her eyes.

“This wasn’t your fault,” you tried to lean up, instantly wincing in pain as you slowly lowered yourself back down again. “Please don’t cry.” You untangled your hand from hers, reaching up to brush the few stray tears that had begun to fall. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“If it wasn’t for me, you never would have been targeted,” her voice cracked.

You shook your head. “No, no, it’s not your fault a psycho wants to hurt you. This isn’t on you. I love you.” You tilted her chin until she was looking you in the eye. “I love you,” you whispered again.

“I love you too,” she leaned forward, resting her forehead against yours, a few of her tears dripping down onto you.

“This was a hell of a way to meet your sister,” you said, trying to break the tension.

Tara leaned back into her chair, wrapping her hand in yours again. “And you still haven’t even officially met yet,” she chuckled.

“Damn,” you sighed. “I was hoping unconscious me had already done all the work.”

“At least she knows you aren’t potentially a Ghostface,” Tara joked.

You laughed, instantly wincing in pain. “Don’t joke.”

“I’m sorry,” she smiled down at you. “She does want to officially meet you though.”

“Can’t wait,” you whispered. You closed your eyes as Tara stroked her fingers through your hair, allowing you to peacefully to drift off to sleep.

[piningforstan]

Memories

Summary: You’re relieved to see your husband alive, but you have yet to learn at what cost.

Pairings: Stanley Pines x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: it’s angsty, the Pines are sad and not okay, memory loss, brief mention of a miscarriage

A/N: If I was a better person and had more time I would totally write a fic about this. This oneshot initially had a happy ending but it seemed right to end it where I did. Let me know if you’d want to read a happy ending, though! (Also I apologize for any inaccuracies)

Couldn’t the apocalypse have happened when your joints didn’t protest at every movement? You thought disdainfully back to your youth, when every step wasn’t hindered by bursts of shooting pain. The rumination was cut short, however, when the front door of the shack swung open.

In your time with Stan, with the shack, it had taken many forms. Becoming a giant fighting robot hadn’t been in your plans but it formed a shelter of sorts for survivors, somewhere mostly untainted with bad memories.

Dipper burst into the used-to-be foyer, followed by Mabel.

You called out their names. You’d been left behind to preside over the Shack-bot and cater to the injured — there hadn’t been time to worry about your loved ones but now that you’re watching the twins run across the room to you, you realize that there had been a significant knot in your stomach that was now loosening with relief.

“You’re alive! You’re okay!” You swept them into an embrace, pressing their bodies to you. God, they were just children.

“Grauntie —” Dipper started.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” You studied their round faces, the streaks of tears cutting through the dirt on their cheeks. Using a thumb, you did your best to wipe away Mabel’s but Dipper slipped away.

“Grauntie, we have to tell you something—”

“Where’s Stan? And Ford? Are they okay?”

“Yes, well,” Dipper started to stammer. Mabel erupted into tears, holding the oversized sleeves of her sweater to her eyes to absorb them.

You glanced between the two twins, heart hammering in your chest. The moment wad broken by the sound of footsteps. Stan stepped into the remnants of the Mystery Shack, steered with a gentle hand by Ford. An unimaginable amount of relief flooded you. Stan, of course, was always in the forefront of your mind, but you hadn’t allowed yourself to think of anything devastating happening.

You wouldn’t — couldn’t — live without him. You refused. So you simply believed that he was safe.

And now here he was, suit torn and battered but still as devastatingly handsome as the day you met him. The protests from Dipper and Mabel faded away much like those of your joints; Stan made you feel young, breathed life into an otherwise greying existence. You untangled yourself from the twins and shot for the front door where he stood.

Ford inserted himself between you, mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear a thing. You just needed to get to Stan. Needed to feel his arms around you, the smell of his cologne (he mostly just rubbed on magazine samples, but you didn’t care). You sidestepped Ford and launched yourself at Stan, tears already overspilling onto your cheeks.

He staggered back a bit, catching himself on the doorframe as you tightly embraced him. Unable to contain your joy you grabbed him by either side of his stubbled face and kissed him.

Only a few seconds passed before Stan’s large hands were entrapping your wrists, pulling you from him. His eyes darted back and forth, and he wore an uneasy smile.

“Well, uh, that’s one way to introduce yourself,” he said.

Later, in hindsight, you recognized the signal going off in the back of your mind that something was wrong. But in that moment you’re completely consumed with happiness and relief and that must just be one of his jokes you don’t understand. “I can think of others but they probably wouldn’t be socially acceptable.”

The uneasy smile faltered. He laughed but it’s brittle and not fully committed. “You’re bold, I like that.”

Stan’s gaze flickered to Ford, as if for assurance.

Ford’s expression was grim, jaw clenched. “I need to speak with you privately —”

“Come on, let’s get you patched up and grab a drink.” You linked your arm through Stan’s and marched him towards the kitchen. He obliged but seemed reluctant, which you chalked up to fatigue. “Here. I’ll get everything. You sit.”

You stopped at Stan’s hideous yellow chair that you were secretly fond of. He stared at it. Then you.

“Here?” He asked. You don’t miss the way that he examined the room like he’s seeing it for the first time, lingering over the empty fish tank and the giant fossilized skull.

“I promise I didn’t let anyone get their blood on it or anything,” you said. You’re yapping now. Why were you yapping? It’s like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, aware of the danger but not wanting to yield to the warnings. “I knew you were coming back. I couldn’t get rid of you that easily, right?”

You waited for him to reply. Stan’s face spasmed, uncomfortable, his arms stiff at his sides. You couldn’t remember a time you had ever seen him like this, unsure and quiet and reserved. You opened your mouth to prompt him to sit once again — what are you doing, silly? — when Dipper, Mabel, and Ford slid into view. Their eyes were wide, panicked, bouncing from you to Stan.

Hysteria crept into your tone. “What’s with this guy? Where’s the man I married?”

“Married?” Stan echoed. This is the first thing you’ve said to actually get a reaction from him.

Ford said your name. “Why don’t you come with me and let Stan rest?”

“Is this a joke? What’s going on?”

Mabel, cheeks blotchy, blurted, “Stan lost his memory! He doesn’t remember us. Any of us.” She dissolved into tears again.

A wave of numbness crashed over you. “What?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you —” Ford stopped, recollected himself. He looks older than you remember him, like whatever happened had aged him faster than natural. “Stan sacrificed himself. To defeat Bill. He gave up all of his memories for…us.”

Stan looked entirely uncomfortable with this situation and all of the weeping.

“What?” You said again. You suddenly felt like a cassette tape that’d been unspooled, and now you’re trying desperately to collect the film, gathering it in your arms to shove back inside the shell.

“It was his idea. It was…the only way,” Ford said. Even his voice was strained with emotion.

You blinked. And blinked again.

“Stan is that true?” You wheeled to face him, still clinging to the hope that this is some elaborate prank. Your grasp on any sanity slipped as you looked at your husband of over thirty years and saw nothing reflected in his face.

There was none of his child-like exuberance. His impish smile, always teetering on the edge of saying something absurd or inappropriate. The softness in his eyes whenever you’re speaking to him. It was as if you were staring into a shallow puddle, no ripples at the surface, no amount of recognition to be stirred upon from the bottom.

Something inside you cracked.

“Stan?” You reached a hand out to touch him. He let you, but it was almost worse that way. It was a gesture of kindness and nothing more; he knew you were upset and he didn’t know why but he knew that he was partly the reason.

A glimpse of the kindness that he hid beneath his hardened exterior.

You recoiled. Someone might as well have wrenched your ribcage open. Snapped your sternum in half in order to access your muscle and viscera and, finally, your heart. It hurt so badly you feared that it might break too.

“He doesn’t remember any of it?”

“I’m afraid not,” Ford said.

Dipper and Mabel, so achingly identical in their heartbreak, stood on either side of Ford. There’s enough devastation in the room to suffocate you.

“Stanley,” you say then, softly, pleadingly. “We’re your family. Surely you remember your family.”

Surely you remember how we met. Falling in love. Getting married. The adventures that ensued. Rebuilding the portal. Losing your baby, your only baby, and reconciling that you never would have children. The excitement you shared upon the news of Dipper and Mabel staying with you, how much you had fallen in love with them in such a short time period. Surely you remember that.

“Well, uh, looks don’t lie,” he replied, gesturing towards Ford and the twins bookending him.

“Let him rest.” Ford wad by your side now. How did he get there?

Everything was blurred at the edges, distorted.

The next thing you knew you’re sitting outside, in one of the ancient lawn chairs you convinced Stan to buy secondhand. You wanted to be able to watch Dipper and Mabel play when they were outside. But the small clearing had been wrecked — hell, the town that you loved had been wrecked, half of it on fire, smoke funneling into the sky.

None of that mattered, though.

Stan didn’t remember you.

But he’s alive, a small voice in you pointed out. He was alive and physically well. He might not remember you but he was going to live another day. Even if that day did not involve you or your shared jokes or brief touches, the comfort of loving the same person for half your life.

You could handle that, you thought. It was enough just to know that he was alive and in the world.

Strangely, you didn’t cry. You sat and watched ashes fall, covering the ground and the picnic bench where Mabel had performed improvised soliloquies to your delight, on the bike that Dipper bought himself — smile nearly splitting his cheeks — in order to investigate his many conspiracies. Ash coated everything. It was comforting, somehow, restorative, replacing the disconcerting scenes of Weirdmagaddeon with a blank state.

You couldn’t face going into the Mystery Shack so you slept outside in the lawn chair. No one came to shuttle you inside, but when you woke up in the morning there was a blanket folded over you.

[gyuwoncheol]

Takes Two to Tango

Pair: Scoups x f!reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Summary: Cheollie to the rescue on a bad day

Warnings: angst, mentions of Cheol’s torn ACL injury. There is, in fact, no tango happening at all.

WC: 1.7k

Author's Note: Wrote this a while back but have always waited for the right time to post it. I’ve had an exhausting week, probably the most tired I’ve been in a long while. I just want to be conforted by Cheol. Dedicating this also to all my carat friends going though a rough patch right now. You must remember our boys and our leader love us so much 🩵🩷

Author's Note 2.0: Written because I truly miss Cheol and I know he misses us just as much. I always feel slightly disoriented when I don’t see him in the promotions. I also just really miss having an ot13 comeback 😞

“Babe?” It’s the first thing you hear when you enter the door and you’re already cursing at how Seungcheol just knows it’s you.

“Hmm,” You drop your keys and took off your shoes, taking a quick glance at the mirror by your main door, wiping the dried tears that marked your cheeks. Kkuma eventually got to you and pawed at your legs gently. You pick her up and cuddle into her a good few minutes, sighing heavily as you shut your eyes closed.

There wasn’t really any other way to put it. You had an absolute shit of a day. You got a flat tire on the way to the office, consequently making you late to a very important meeting. You were given a new workload that wasn’t even really part of your scope anymore but there was really no other person who could take it on, while another important project you’d been taking care of had to be delayed because of a manufacturing problem. Everyone in the office seemed to need to meet you that you ended up taking lunch 2 hours late, and just when you were about to take your 3rd cup of coffee for the day, the lid had popped open and spilled the brown liquid all over your very white top. By the time you left the office, you were cranky and hungry, like you wanted to scream and fight with anyone. It was only when you arrived at home and caught sight of the warm light that peeked through the windows that you were reminded about Cheol being home.

Your boyfriend who was nursing a torn ACL and evidently spent much of his day at home. Your boyfriend who was sweet and loving enough to check in on you throughout the day, but he barely got substantial replies. Your boyfriend who didn’t mind cause he knew you were busy. Your boyfriend who was now looking at you with the softest eyes as you approached him with a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi baby,” he greeted, arms open wide as he remained partially immobile on the couch.

You hesitated about going in front of the couch and receiving his embrace, your heart feeling like it was squeezed at the moment. To your better judgment, you hugged him with one arm from behind and a quick kiss on his lips instead.

“Can i just go clean up first? I.. i got coffee spilled all over me,” you excused yourself, averting his gaze.

Seungcheol nodded and watched you scurry away to your shared bedroom, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. He normally gets sulky when you avoid his hugs, but this time he had already sensed something was off with you. It was the way you wrongly messaged him “take care at rehab” at 1pm when he actually had his appointment at 10am. You’ve never forgotten any of his appointments. It was also in the way he had noticed you enter the house only 20 minutes after your car park at the garage. He obviously noticed how tired you looked and the little smudge of your mascara from tears. It broke his heart that you chose to keep this with yourself, you normally always ran to him for refuge when you needed it.

You stood idly in the shower for what felt like forever. If it were up to you, you would’ve never gotten out but alas, you could only hide forever and the water bill will spike up so you got out and got changed, drying your hair and pulling on one of your boyfriend’s large shirts, your favorite one.

“Oh my god!” You jumped at the sight of Seungcheol on the bed when you got to your bedroom, “you scared me. How’d you get all the way here?!”

“Babe, I can already walk you know? Just slowly, but I still get to places.”

“Right, yeah, sorry. I was just surprised,” you shook your head, “uhmm.. i’m gonna go get water…”

“There’s water here,” Seungcheol pointed out, gesturing towards the small table which indeed had drinking water

“Oh. Okay. Then i’ll just go and fix up the liv—“

“Y/n,” Seungcheol called out softly but still firm, freezing you on the spot by the door. You closed your eyes at the nickname, and you just knew he knew you were avoiding him. “Please look at me?”

You turned around slowly, eyes only peeking open after taking a deep breath. You glanced at him and immediately, tears already began pricking at your eyes, so you looked down at the floor instead, standing there like a child that just got scolded. Cheol waited to see if you’d get closer or if you’d at least bring your gaze back to him but when you didn’t he worried even more. Slowly, he swung his leg off the bed to make his way to you.

“What are you doing?” You panicked with his movements.

“Trying to get you to me.”

That seemed to do the trick, your feet padding towards him quickly and helping him raise his injured leg on the bed again, “just stay put. I’ll do it.”

Seungcheol grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly for good measure, “Jagi, what’s wrong? Could you please tell me?”

You looked at him once more and Cheol had the warmest gaze fixed on you. You sat by his side, feeling bad you were worrying him. “I just had a bad day at work, that’s all.”

“Wanna tell me more?” He prodded, thumb rubbing soothing circles at the back of your hand.

“No, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“You clearly aren’t,” Seungcheol retorted, “babe, you know I won’t pry if I didn’t think something else was wrong but you’re worrying me, you always run to me when you have bad days and problems, why are you shutting me out now?”

Your boyfriend sounded pained and you cursed yourself for making him feel that way. “Cheollie, i’m not shutting you out…” you whispered, “I just don’t think it matters to you is all.”

Cheol watched you shrug at your words, as if trying to convince yourself of what you just said. “It matters when it’s making my girl sad, why would you think it wouldn’t?”

“Becauseeee,” you whined, “you clearly have worse problems than I do. You’re uncomfortable, you have a hard time moving, rehab is painful, i know you’d really rather be with the boys doing work but instead you’re stuck at home. You have it much worse than I do. It’s just a bad day at work. I’ll be fine.” You said everything so fast you hadn’t even noticed a tear had rolled down your cheek but your boyfriend was quick to wipe it away before you pulling into his chest.

It crushed Cheol to see you like this. You weren’t one to hold off on your emotions to him. “Baby, just because im having a bad day doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to. My ‘bigger’ problems,” your boyfriend raised his fingers to gesture air quotes, “shouldn’t invalidate yours.”

“I know, but..”

“No but’s… your feelings are valid. Period. And I’m always here for you. We’re a team, remember?”

You looked at Seungcheol properly for the first time tonight, tears in your eyes as you studied his features intently, and then the dam broke loose. You hide your face on the crook of his neck and sobbed, little hiccups and squeaks coming out of you. Cheol could feel the rapid rise and fall of your chest as he embraced you in his arms, patting your hair with one hand whispering encouragements to just “let it all out”.

“I’m j-just… just so tired, Cheol,” you whispered softly in between cries, “I s-swear…. it’s nothing else… jus’ t-tired.” And it was true, there wasn’t anything else bothering you, you just simply felt tired from everything going on in your life, “I just didn’t w-want… t-to tell you and burden you. S-so I… i k-kept it in… I’m sorry.”

“Hey, shhhh, no need to be sorry. I believe you and i’m always here for you. Never a burden, jagi. Remember that.” Seungcheol squeezed you tighter, wanting to just take away all of the hurt and exhaustion you were feeling.

He continued to speak soothing words as he let you release more pent up feelings, his face scrunching up when you’d let out a strangled gasp. It hurt for Cheol to even think about how long you’ve felt this way, he has been injured for quite a while now.

You wipe away your tears after what felt like forever, the tip of your nose was positively red and your eyes were now swollen. Your boyfriend offered you a weak smile before planting a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you,” you say after clearing your throat, “thank you for listening.”

“Of course, jagi. I love you too. I’m sorry if all this,” Seungcheol gestures to his knee, “has disturbed our routine—“

“What? Cheollie, no,” you interrupted, “don’t be sorry. I’m not blaming your or your injury at all.”

“I know. I’m just saying I know things have been a little more difficult than usual for us, but I know we’ll get through it as long as we do it together, yeah? You don’t always have to give it your all, you know. I’m always going to be here to fill in the gap for you, the same way you do with me. You’ve been so good at taking care of me lately, I just hope you’d remember that I want to take care of you too, even with a bad knee.”

You giggled at his last words, knowing full well that even with his disability, Seungcheol would cross rivers and move mountains for you. That’s simply how he is as a person. It showed with how he flew to Japan to support his brothers and see their fans for their show. You witnessed it in the way he’d wake up early in the morning even when he didn’t have a schedule just so he could take breakfast with you and send you off for work. Saw it with how there was always dinner ready on the table when you got home. Sometimes they were cooked by him, sometimes just delivered, but it didn’t matter to you. You knew it was his way to make good on his promise of using all this time at home to make up for lost time with you.

Some people think it annoyingly stubborn— some people being his doctors— but to you, it meant that he was passionate, determined and most importantly, he loved fiercely.

He loves you fiercely.

You gently nodded at his words whilst cupping his face in your small hands. Seungcheol did the same, his thumb wiping your dried tears after placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Together?” You asked despite knowing the answer.

“Together.”

[mydarlingclaudia]

she’s demonic and bloody, but she holds me tight

note : divider is from @/cafekitsune. this fix does have dark content in it if you don’t wanna read I understand <3 I also wrote this based off the song In My Room by Insane Clown Posse. I also got kinda in the flow when I was writing this idk if it really fits the song but I like how this turned out but the end is like really really rushed bc I didn’t know what to do :)

wc : 2.9k

tags : @withonly-sweetheart @rigorwhoring @cigarett3wif3 @bonesnplywood

desc : a college kid with a social life that's almost non-existent figures the dead girl that comes to his room every night is his girlfriend, some say that's a bad thing, he says it's everything he could wish for. who cares, anyway? it's not hurting anyone! well, not yet, at least. there's an endless list of things he'd do for you, you don't even have to ask. but why won't you come back after he takes care of a problem that would have torn you away from him? you love him, right? not-really established relationship (idk how to explain it), a bit suggestive, Leon is kinda gross, necrophilia, gore, au, fem!reader, re2r!Leon

back to the party <3

“You gonna let me in…?” Your voice is muffled from the glass pane of Leon’s window, chipped fingernails tapping against the surface. Of course he’s gonna let you in, when was the last time he had ignored you? You’ve completely fucked over his sleep schedule, you’re too good to turn down.

He’s lucky that he has the whole house to himself, it’s been like this since he started college, even if anyone is there, you’re always quiet. Leon was lucky enough to have some rich uncle that pitied him after the death of his parents and gifted his summer house to Leon so he could stay there for college. He doesn’t talk to a lot of people, he’s got a few friends around campus and he tutors the kid next door, but outside of that he’s alone, no one comes over outside of family.

You came along about halfway through his sophomore year of college, he was scared of you at first, who wouldn’t be scared when you wake up to a corpse knocking on your window? But he gave you a chance, best decision he’s made in years.

You… were something special. Not a zombie, Leon’s sure you would’ve cracked his skull open and torn his brain apart with your teeth by now if you were, he would’ve let you.

You poor thing, your boyfriend killed you when you tried to break up with him in your senior year of college, Leon must’ve been seventeen when it happened, it had been all over the news. Leon’s not sure why you came to him, you never told him, there are a lot of things you don’t tell him, he’s not sure where you go when the sun rises, either. But you’re the best part of his days, the lamp in his room is always on at night just so you know he’s home. He hasn’t even gone out to any parties because he doesn’t want to miss a visit from you, hardly even stays out past ten if he ever does manage to get out of the house.

“Leon, I can see you.” Your voice is a bit harsher, your palm comes down against his window and Leon finally tears himself from his homework, spinning around in his chair to smile at you.

He stands from his chair and takes a few steps to his window, it’s never locked, it doesn’t even have the screen anymore, he just has to open it for you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The smile that immediately blooms on your face makes his whole month, Leon offers his hand out to you to help you climb into his room, your rough, cold palm slides against his, you stumble slightly. Leon’s hands soon find their way to your sides, his face almost hurts from how much he’s grinning.

“Hey,” Your voice is always raspy, it’s prettier than any song he’s ever heard. You always wrap your arms around him when he welcomes you in, this time is no different, one of his hands take place on your lower back, the other on the back of your neck over your matted hair.

“It’s cold out, do you want a sweatshirt?” He knows you don’t need one, but he’s been dying to see you in one of his favorite hoodies, he doesn’t even care if you get dirt all over it. You just shake your head and bury your face in the crook of his neck, he chuckles. “I gotta do some homework, do you want to sit with me?” You nod again and unravel your arms from around him, he pulls up his chair again to sit and pull you down onto his lap.

You love this, you crave this, found a way to weasel your way into this life even after death. You really weren’t trying to go for Leon, the night you emerged from your grave you just stumbled down the street, looking for a light in the window, you don’t know why. The only light on had been Leon’s, he was pretty enough, at least he didn’t call the cops when you climbed up the tree in front of his window and started knocking.

He loves you, you know it. You don’t know how or why, but God, do you love this feeling. You’re able to pretend for a few hours that you’re back to being a normal college girl, that your blood still runs through your veins and your boyfriend didn’t go nuts and stab you. You love him too, you guess.

You even help him with homework and projects sometimes since you took those same classes, you always hated it when you were in school, but you had a cheat sheet for half the shit Leon brings back from class in the back of you brain, why are you even able to remember that? Leon always holds you as close as possible, you're not really sure how he can stomach having you so close all the time, you knew he'd have you naked more often than not if you would let him see you like that, the closest he's even gotten to seeing you like that is when you took off your dress so he could stitch up the re-opening stab wounds that were scattered across your abdomen.

But he loves it, for some reason. He doesn't mind how rough your skin feels and how tight it is against your rotting muscles, doesn't get weirded out when he plucks a bug from your hair, somehow Leon loves when the two of you make out.

It’s a win-win, Leon gets you, you get Leon. He buys you cute things, short skirts, pretty tops, you play dress up for a few hours before you pull the blue dress you were buried in back on and leave for the day, just to come back and do it again the next night. He’s got a dresser drawer full of girly clothes that you only wear sometimes, he’s lucky he never has friends over.

Don’t even mentions the hickeys he lets you leave on his neck, those are the things his friends see and tease him about, interrogating him about who his secret girlfriend is. You don’t think he minds, he’s never complained when you sink your teeth into his throat and suck and bite until the blood vessels under his skin start to pop. Leon does the same to you, anyway, it’s only fair.

Leon doesn’t like when you’re in the house but not with him, if you get up to go wash the dirt off your skin in the shower, he trails after you and sits on the sinks countertop until you’re done. He’d join you if you let him.

Leon will never tell you this or even ask, but he wonders if you died a virgin. I mean, there’s no way, right? You were so pretty, alive or dead, he’d be lying if he said that he never thought about having sex with you. Who wouldn’t think about that? Theres no judgement from him if you’re a virgin or not, but maybe one day you’ll take his virginity. Maybe? He’ll take the dry humping for now and keep his hopes up.

Outside of wanting to have sex with you, Leon loves to hold you. You fit on his lap perfectly and your face always finds a way to the nape of his neck, you always cling to him like your limbs are still stiff and tight from rigor mortis and you’ll take him back to your grave with you.

—

You’re back again, shocking. Leon’s got you on his lap with your chest pressed to his, his fingers dig into the cold flesh of your thighs to slowly rock you against him as you nip at his lips whenever you pull away from one of your heated kisses, barely giving him time to breathe.

You have to leave soon and Leon has to start his day, the most sleep he gets is four or five hours the second he gets back from school, you come around midnight, who needs sunlight? He doesn’t spend most of his days out and you never do, Leon could live in total darkness and be fine with it so long as you stay.

Leon’s shaking a tiny bit underneath you, it’s always like this when you slip your tongue a bit further past his lips, you can’t taste anything but Leon loves the way you taste, good thing he’s not vegan. Though, Leon can’t really focus on kissing you back, you feel more tense than normal, your voice sounds choked when you talk now.

Reluctantly, he pulls away from you and you huff. Leon’s hands instead move up to your hips, stopping his rocking.

“You okay?” You nod.

You’re not really okay, you were trying to avoid Leon asking you this because you knew he’d react badly. The kid he tutors next door saw you walk down the street, you even fucking made eye contact with the kid and kept walking until you were at the tree in Leon’s yard. You didn’t know if he was gonna tell anyone or just try to ignore you, play it off as a drunk girl not knowing what she’s doing. But you knew he’d tell Leon the next day, Leon always told you the kid liked to gossip. Even if the kid didn’t talk, you probably shouldn’t come back, at least for a little while.

“Sweetheart,” His hands squeeze your hips, you sigh and sit up straight. “What’s wrong?”

“I- that uhm, the kid next door… H-he saw me.” Leon’s eyes widen and his hands grip you harder, it doesn’t hurt but you feel his fingernails dig into your skin.

“What?” You’ve never heard his voice so flat, you chew on your bottom lip and look away from him. “He saw you?”

“Leon, he knows.”

“What? He can’t know, it’s not like… It’s not like it’s obvious that you’re dead.”

“Leon, be serious, it’s weird enough to see someone stumbling into your neighbors yard in the dark, but when they look like they’re fucking dead then that’s something else.”

“Baby-“

“He’s gonna tell someone.”

“He won’t,” A dry, humorless chuckle comes from his mouth, he shakes his head. “He’s not gonna care, the worst that’s gonna happen is he’s gonna tease me.”

“Yeah? What if he tells his parents? What if he tells his friends? Then what? He’s like, what, twenty? He doesn’t care if you ask him not to talk about it.”

“We’re gonna be fine,” His hand comes up to your face, brushing over your bottom lip and pulling you back down to his slowly. “Why would he give a shit?”

“I’m not gonna come back for while.” You announce, stopping a few inches from his face. You don’t want to talk about this anymore, you just need to do your own thing, you have all the time in the world to wait and let this simmer down. If Leon loves you, then he’ll wait, too.

“What?!” Leon bolts up, pushing you up with him. “No, no, no, no, you don’t gotta like, leave leave, okay? I’ll- I’ll take care of it, I’ll talk to him. Baby, please.”

“I don’t know, Leon.”

“We’re gonna be alright, I promise.” He kisses you again and your shoulders tense. “Okay?”

“… The sun will be up soon.” You mumble, leaning back from him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He sighs and runs his hands along your arms, looking over your face to try and determine what you’re thinking. “I love you.”

“Love you,” You mumble again before you stand from his bed and make your way back out his bedroom window, you glance back at him, he’s smiling, somehow.

Once you’re gone, though, Leon flops back against his bed, his hands coming to his hair to pull at the soft strands, he's never been so nervous in his life.

“Fuck.”

—

Leon’s not proud of what he’s done, but he did it for you, so it’s not bad, right?

He really did mean to just talk things out, tell his neighbor that you’re his girlfriend and that you come up through the tree in front of his room because it’s faster.

But the kid had already told his parents, thankfully none of his friends, though. Leon didn’t know what to do, because soon the neighbors would tell his uncle and then he’d start asking questions, and then eventually his neighbor would tell his friends and then Leon’s friends would find out and- he panicked. What else could he say?

Leon came back to his neighbors later that night, maybe ten, ten thirty? Who cares? The thing about his neighbors is that the parents loved him because he was willing to spend two hours of his day tutoring their son who got into school mostly due to his parents, why wouldn’t they give him a spare key to the house?

He didn’t use a gun and he didn't go bare-handed, he’s not completely stupid. Leon just... came in through the back door with one of the knives from his kitchen and got to work. Leon hadn't thought a whole lot through besides his alibi, he'd just say he was sleeping, he's a college student, aren't you supposed to get sleep when given the chance?

But now his hands were covered in blood as well as his clothes, he made sure not to get any on his shoes, he'll just wash whatever became bloodied. And if he couldn't wash the blood out, he could just feed it to the fire pit, maybe a tie dye shirt wouldn't look too bad on him, he's thinking red and black.

He's not used to the feeling of someone else's blood coating his skin, did you know what that felt like? No, that blood had been your own, but still, maybe you could've told him it would be warm. And God, the fucking stench of it, he's gonna scrub his skin raw when he gets back home.

Leon doesn't expect you to come back to him that night, though he still really hopes that you do. But while he waited, he cleaned. Did his laundry, washed the knife, looked for any splotches of blood left in his yard that would be seen as an immediate red flag, he even kicked in the glass back door of his neighbors house for good measure! He probably wouldn't have slept, anyway, the adrenaline of puncturing a soft body with something he uses to cook is still running through his veins. He wasn't too worried about the other neighbors, most of them were old, it was well past their bed time.

Was Leon disappointed when you didn't show that night? Of course. But if you needed a night to try to gather your thoughts then what kind of boyfriend would he be to not allow you that space?

And it was no surprise when the cops showed up at his door the next morning, Leon had gone through this situation over and over in his head the whole night, he just needs to play dumb and be polite.

"No, officer, I didn't hear anything last night, what's the matter?"

"I don't know anyone who would do something like that to that family! That's just awful!"

"They've never upset me, and even if they did, I wouldn't kill them over it!"

"Damn, do I need to get security cameras or something, officer?"

Of course the police told him to get the security cameras, it’s no big problem for him, no one has to protect him, he’s just waiting for you to come back. Maybe you’ll even stay longer once you do finally come back to him, there’d be no one to worry about, so what’s the problem?

—

Leon doesn't get it, it's been almost a month now and you're still not back. Why is that? Did you just not know what he had done for you and decided to wait a bit longer? Maybe he should've known that the girl who got fucking stabbed to death wouldn't like him killing a family for her, God, did he scare you off?

He went to your grave, it looks normal. He'd never gone now because he had no reason to, but the soil wasn't loose or anything. Should he try to dig you up? No, that would get him thrown in jail in a matter of minutes. You weren’t even showing up on the security cameras the cops advised him to get,

Leon can't stand it. He misses you, is that really so bad?

How long were you planning to stay away? Did you just break up with him without even really saying it? Was killing his neighbors worth it? It's like you've just vanished! What does he have to do to get you to come back?

The pictures he has of you - from when you were alive, newspaper clippings of your obituary and your memorial service after the funeral - don't sit right with him anymore. He's had them since you started coming over, he just wanted to know more about you, but seeing you smiling at him through the black and white paper doesn't sit well in his stomach.

What's he supposed to do with your clothes? He misses you, why can't you just leave him a note explaining things? And he can't even tell anyone. He's worried about you, what if something happened to you?

But he waits, like he does every night.

And he waits, then waits a bit longer, then waits even more, and a month turns into four way too fast.

Where are you?

Leon swears he can hear the tap tap on his window, but when he looks, you're never there. Now he has to deal with the weight of murder on his shoulders while the cops are still out looking for the killer. Were the cops why you weren't coming back?

This is unbelievable, didn't you love him? If you don't come to him, he might have to come to you... somehow. He'll figure it out, he's pretty sure you're meant to be together.

Come on, don’t you know he’d die for you? Leon can’t wait for forever.

[cod-dump]

For the teen!Ghost au, has there ever been a time where Price hasn’t come home? A mission gone badly and he gets injured? Maybe Nik has to handle the fort for a little while on his own because Price is trapped in the hospital?

(Also Roach is a precious bby)

———

John getting hurt bad enough he had to go straight to the hospital. He was unconscious or just unable to call home to tell Nik or the kids that he won’t be coming home that night. So Kate has to call, and she didn’t know enough to know that John would be fine after a minor surgery to correct whatever injury he obtained.

She calls Nik and tells him that John was in the hospital after a mission with south, and that she doesn’t know much about the situation or his condition. It was enough to make Nik’s blood run cold and him to be near hysterics. But Nik’s a professional and he was able to keep a mask up and keep the truth from the kids.

But they knew something was wrong. Dad wasn’t home when he was supposed to be, they hadn’t heard anything from him and Nik was being too quiet. The fact he wasn’t acting worried made them worry.

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s held up at work. He’s not sure when he’ll be home.”

Nik never felt so much anxiety before, especially in the comfort of his own home. All it took was a phone call and now he felt so out of control. The hospital where John was hadn’t been disclosed with him, Kate hasn’t called and gave him any updates. For all he knew John was dead. And there wasn’t nothing he could do but stay home and care for the kids and animals.

There was nothing else he could do.

Simon and Kyle were not handling this well. Of course they knew something was wrong. They’ve always been anxious boys, and now their dad was missing. Farah was harder to read but Nik could tell this was affecting her as well. She was worried, scared. She was good at hiding how she felt, but he could see her fidget and watch her phone, waiting for a phone call from John.

They were all torn up about this, terrified of what the next call will bring. Nik couldn’t sleep for those two days of silence. He just laid in bed or just rested on the couch, hoping the front door would open and John would come in. He couldn’t speak on the subject with the kids, and he knew that made everything worse.

Kate finally stopped by when the boys were at school and Farah was at work. Nik had to do everything he could to keep himself calm when she walked up the driveway and to their door. He was expecting the worst, he was expecting having to tell the kids the worst thing he could imagine. Having to handle paperwork to become the boys’ legal guardian. Fuck- Pull strings to make it where they stayed with him if that wasn’t possible.

He was expecting the worst and it showed. And Kate blinked when she noticed the stress practically radiating off of him.

“God- He’s fine, Nik.”

Nik felt relief flood him, tears wanting to spill. Then he yelled.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!”

“Don’t you dare yell at me! This has been the most hellish week of my life! I’ve been having to clean up John’s mess and practically live at my office, not having a moment without someone calling me- Are you crying?”

He did start crying. And Kate had him sit down and coached him through what had to be his first panic attack in years. And once he was calm she was able to explain everything that had happened and where John had been. Both him and Kate had been practically isolated after their intel went sour.

John, having been the most hands on in it, was put through debriefings, meetings, and picked apart by his superiors the moment he came out of surgery. He wasn’t allowed to call anyone until SAS was sure he had nothing to do with everything going wrong at once.

“He’s coming home tonight. He asked me to check on you before I headed home.”

Nik felt stress and relief flow intertwined, his heart pulling every which way. John was coming home, and he wanted to strangle him for making him worry. He didn’t strangle him when he saw him get dropped off. Nik instead swung the front door open before he even made it onto the porch and grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce hug. John squawked when he was grabbed but didn’t fight him, just slumped against him, exhausted.

“Missed ya, too,” he had muttered against his shoulder. John could have easily fallen asleep right there, in Nik’s arms.

He wouldn’t get a chance to, however. Once Riley started barking, the house came alive and John wouldn’t know peace for the next few weeks. A small price to pay for the worry he had put his family through.

[jennay]

My Best Friend

Noah Sebastian x reader

1/2/3/4/5

Summary: Reader goes through a break up and Noah does Noah things.

Master List

The gravel crunches under your shoes as you ascend Noah’s driveway. Your skin prickles, as if it’s trying to escape the confines of your body. The air feels heavy, suffocating, and you’re torn between wanting to kick something, hit something, or simply collapse into a heap of tears. It’s a symphony of emotions—anger, betrayal, and a dash of disbelief.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You thought you were in a cozy rom-com, complete with candlelit dinners and shared playlists. But reality just pulled the rug out from under you, leaving you sprawled on the floor of your own heartbreak.

And the worst part? Everyone else saw it coming. They waved red flags like semaphore signals, but you were too busy dancing in the fog of infatuation.

You even told your friends, “It won't be serious and if it is we will move slow.” But Michael? He came with baggage—suitcases, trunks, and emotional carry-ons. A tortured soul with unresolved trauma, dragging dread behind him like a shadow.

As you stand there, staring at the door, you wonder if it’s too late to turn back. It was going to be embarrassing asking Noah if you could move back in.

You open the door and quietly enter the house stopping at the side of the couch where Noah sits. He looks up at you with a soft smile. “You ok?” He asks even though he knows you aren’t. He scrunches his face and pats the sofa next to him, “Come sit, tell me what happened.”

“He said he knew from the beginning it wasn’t going to work. We were both too damaged. He was using me to get over someone else and we’re better off apart,” your voice trembles with defeat. You hurl your phone onto the couch and collapse next to Noah. Tilting your head up, you drape your arm over your eyes, hoping to shield your vulnerability from him.

“What a dick,” Noah chimes in, his tone edged with anger. “And seriously, how does this keep happening to you? You’ve dated so many people.” He pauses, studying your face for any sign of reaction. “Not that it’s a bad thing, but damn, this was the longest relationship I’ve seen you in and it lasted—what, a year?” His brown eyes lock onto you, probing deeper.

You drop your arm, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Stupid. That’s how you feel. You craved love desperately, yet it seemed like nobody wanted to love you back. “I got attached to his kids like a fucking idiot,” you admit, your voice barely audible. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, unstoppable. “Why doesn’t anyone want to love me?” The words escape in a soft whisper, your shoulders slumping as you gaze at the floor. A single tear rolls down your cheek, and you think it’ll be the last, but another follows, and another. You bury your head in your hands.

Noah’s hand rubs your back soothingly. “Dude, don’t cry,” he murmurs, inching closer. His thigh brushes against yours, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling your sobbing form into his chest. In that moment, his warmth feels like the only comfort in a world that’s left you feeling unloved and broken.

“I can’t help it…” you whine, attempting to wipe your eyes. “I know it wasn’t that long, but it was like a Netflix series—short but intense. Not the ‘binge-watching Stranger Things’ kind of intense, more like ‘accidentally watched a documentary on tax law’ intense. I mean, I loved him, but I also had moments when I wanted to throw his clothes out the window because I hated him.”

Noah takes a deep breath, and you feel your body rise with his. He leans in, ready to drop some wisdom. “Listen, I’m no relationship guru, but I’m pretty sure ‘hate’ isn’t in the official handbook. It’s more like ‘tolerate their weird quirks’ or ‘pretend to enjoy their cooking.’”

You pull away playfully, glaring at him. “Thanks, Captain Obvious. Next, you’ll tell me that water is wet.”

He chuckles at your comment. “So,” he pauses dramatically, “when should we go grab your stuff?”

You raise an eyebrow, “The breakup happened like thirty minutes ago. Give me a break,” you say with a soft smile.

Noah shrugs like it’s no big deal. “The spare room is still how you left it. I’m sure Jolly will help us move some stuff upstairs too. I could ask Folio and Nicholas, but you know how they are,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, Folio would probably turn it into a moving party, and Nicholas would just complain the whole time.”

Noah laughs. “Exactly!”

You stand up, sighing. “Yeah, but the last thing I need is Michael spreading rumors about how quickly I moved on to one of you.” You bite your lip. “Can I just borrow some clothes tonight? I’m not ready to face him yet.”

Noah nods, “He’s a mediocre middle-aged basic white dude. I didn’t think you’d be this heartbroken over him.”

You smirk. “Well, he did have a decent dick.”

Noah stares at you in horror. “What the fuck, dude.”

You chuckle. “Now, about those clothes?”

“Anything to get away from you at this moment. I need to go bleach my eyes…and burn that image out of my brain.” Noah starts for the stairs, pretending to gag as he walks up them. “Let’s go get some stuff tomorrow. The longer you wait, the worse it will be.”

You quickly follow behind him, rolling your eyes at his theatrics. “You’re such a drama queen.”

He grins over his shoulder. “And you love me for it.”

Walking into his room, he grabs a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from his dresser, tossing them at you. “Here, these should fit. They’re my comfiest.”

“Thanks,” you say, catching the clothes. You head to the room across from his. “Goodnight, Noah. I’ll see you in the morning.” You take a deep breath and open the door, feeling the weight of the day settle on your shoulders.

“Hey!” Noah slightly yells, clearing his throat. “Why don’t you stay in here with me tonight? It’ll make me feel better knowing that you can’t jump out your window.” He teases, but you can hear the worry in his voice. “We can watch a movie… My brain will be at peace, and if you need to cry, you won’t be alone.”

You pause, feeling a lump in your throat. “Let me change first.”

When you arrive back in Noah’s room, he has the TV turned on and the blankets pulled down. He’s already in bed. “Come on, get in here. I’ve got Bojack Horseman ready to go.”

You take no time crawling into bed and snuggling close to the blankets. “You know me too well,” you mumble, feeling a bit more at ease.

Noah smiles softly. “Of course I do. Now, let’s forget about Michael for a while and just relax.”

As the show starts, Noah doesn’t say a word, just watches your eyes slowly flutter, signaling you’re tired. He reaches over and gently squeezes your hand. “I’m here for you, always.”

You squeeze back, feeling a bit of the tension melt away. “Thanks, Noah. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he whispers, keeping his eyes on the screen but his thoughts on you.

[minarisplaything]

Blackpink In Your Area (Part Two)

pairing: jisoo x male reader (featuring an instigating jennie) word count: 1.6k rating: Explicit Summary: picks up where part one left off which you can find here. , part three is here

It was as if time itself had been frozen.

Jennie stood there, one hand still pressed against the wall while another now covered her mouth in shock. Jisoo was motionless, cum coating her hair and face and looking like she was torn between disgust and wanting to cry. And then there was you, standing there like an idiot with your mouth hanging open and your cock hanging out.

"Oh my god."

Jennie was the first to react and the first to move. "Jisoo, baby, are you okay?" she moved from her position, acted as though she had not just been getting her brains fucked out backstage. It left you bewildered but in reality was Jennie was doing the smart play. If Jisoo ran off they your little escapade would be discovered and likely worse things to come.

Your girlfriend handled her with care, gently brushing your cum from her strands of her. In response Jisoo nodded, finally seeming to gain her senses. "I-I didn't know you were..." she trailed off and you caught her gaze briefly shoot to your hanging cock. The silence was momentary but you couldn't help but wonder if Jennie had noticed it as well. "If I had known I wouldn't have come by I swear. I just didn't know where you were and — "

"Ssh, it's okay. Don't worry about it" Jennie reassured her.

If you had to label the dynamic between the two, Jennie was certainly the more dominate one while Jisoo seemed more meager and pure. A thought that had your cock twitching back to life.

Jennie continued to talk to Jisoo, her voice lowering to the point that you weren't able to hear what she was saying; all you could do was see Jisoo's small nods as she looked at Jennie with doe-eyes. What happened next nearly had you double over in shock and definitely had you hard again.

Jennie wiped some of the cum that had landed on Jisoo's cheek, however rather than flick or wipe it aside she slid her finger into her mouth, sucking it clean of the fluid. What are you doing?! my inner voice screamed. She had just been calming Jisoo down, maybe even making her forget all that had happened and now she had very bluntly and boldly reminded her! And yet it didn't stop there. Next, Jennie wiped off another glob of cum and wiped it on her tongue however she didn't swallow it, instead leaving her mouth open and tongue out expectantly. Jisoo, no longer the stunned deer in headlights, seemed to know exactly what was expected of her as she leaned forward to kiss her band mate.

It was a display you had never expected, yet judging by the way your cock was quickly hardening again one you were thoroughly enjoying. Your girlfriend's hand settled on Jisoo's neck, deepening the kiss effortlessly. It made you wonder if they had experience with this kind of exchange.

When the finally parted you were more turned on than before and equally as confused. "Um, Jennie? Do you want to fill me in on what's going on?" After all you were still standing there with your cock out feeling rather...exposed.

Jennie looked at Jisoo and then back to you. "Well..." she started, stepping forward, her hand curled around her friend's as they came towards you. "I think Jisoo wants to do something for you. If you don't mind that is."

Her words caused my mind to go blank trying to process what she was offering. You looked to Jisoo but rather than meet your gaze her eyes were transfixed on your exposed cock. Fuck was this really about to happen? You looked back to Jennie who now wore a cheshire grin. Clearly she was on board with this and you wondered if this didn't have to do with what she had whispered to her.

"She feels really bad about walking in on us like she did" Jennie's free hand moved up, stroking aside stray strands of Jisoo's hair.

Hell if anyone should feel bad it was you, you shot your cum on her after all. Now you couldn't help but think about doing so in a different manner. You looked back to Jisoo for confirmation but she was still transfixed.

"Is this true, Jisoo?"

"I..." she paused, swallowing thickly, "Yes...I want to do something for you." She finally looked up to meet your gaze, a certainty in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

The whole situation was rather sudden but it had made you extremely hard. Besides who were you to turn down a proposition from another member of Blackpink when you had your girlfriend's approval? Having made up your mind you gave a nod and Jennie looked practically gleeful. She leaned over, whispering some more things to Jisoo — whether it was instructions or encouragement only they knew.

You stood in anticipation, cock twitching when you saw Jisoo descend to her knees. Jennie who had been standing next to her moved to you, her hand on your shoulder. You would have asked her something but your mouth turned to cotton when you felt Jisoo's hand wrapping around your cock quickly followed by the warmth of her mouth.

Forgetting where you were for a moment you let out a moan. The visual of Blackpink must have taken that as a sign to continue as she wasted no time in taking your length fully, her head bobbing in a steady rhythm already.

"Look at her" Jennie cooed in your ear, her breath hot against it, "She's such a good girl isn't she?"

Where you had previously been focused on the the feeling and pleasure you looked down to lay your eyes on the sight. And what a sight it was. Kim Jisoo eagerly blowing you, her tongue swirling around your cock, her eyes occasionally glancing up to look at you. All you could do in response to her question was nod. A giggle left Jennie and she followed it up by placing a kiss against your neck.

"You know..." she started, speaking between each kiss, "You don't have to be so gentle with her." Jennie nibbled on your earlobe, her hand finding one of yours and guiding it to rest on the back of Jisoo's head. "She likes it rough."

Normally you might have hesitated, maybe asked first, but you were completely lost in the moment. Truth be told you were under Jisoo's spell as much as you were under Jennie's. As such it took less than a minute for you to act on your girlfriend's words, pushing down on Jisoo's head and forcing her to take your full length. She was surprised and caught off guard, gagging on your cock. You wondered if you had acted to hastily yet you could practically hear Jennie grinning from ear to ear. Had this been a part of her plan too?

Unwilling to change course, you pulled Jisoo's head off of your cock giving her a moment to catch her breath before pushing her back down. This time she was prepared, her throat relaxing as she took you fully. And god did it feel amazing. So good that you did it again. And again. And Again. Until it reached the point you were face-fucking a national beauty. In the backstage of her own concert no less!

When you finally pulled her off the innocent and pure face of Kim Jisoo was now a lewd display.

Her eyes were glazed over, tongue extended as a mixture of pre-cum and saliva trailed from her mouth.

"Isn't she beautiful" Jennie chimed in, a delicate hand reaching around you to cup Jisoo's chin. You could only nod wordlessly, enraptured by the sight.

You felt Jennie's presence shift from next to you and soon she was leaning down, turning her bandmate's head to hers and closing the distance between their lips. If you thought their kiss earlier had been marvelous, this was spectacular. Your cock twitched in appreciation, drinking in every moment of the sight.

When Jennie finally pulled away her thumb wiped at her bottom lip, a smug look on her features. She gave you one look and instantly you knew your girlfriend had another devious idea.

"You know" she started, her fingers wrapping around your cock and stroking you slowly, "I think there's an even better gift she can give you."

This comment seemed to bring Jisoo out of her lewd haze, her eyes darting over to Jennie as she bit her bottom lip. You hesitated for a moment, glancing between the two girls. The thought alone had your cock primed to act but this was one thing you couldn't just take Jennie's word on.

"Babe, I don't know that seems risky..."

You and her had just got caught doing exactly what Jennie was suggesting so it wasn't as if you were lying. You couldn't begin to imagine the trouble if someone else found the three of together.

"Please."

The response didn't come from Jennie but instead Jisoo. You looked over at the vocalist to find her wanton gaze looking back at you. "I want it...Here. Just like you were earlier."

You could see Jennie grinning out of the corner of your eye. Was this all just another part of her plan? "You heard her baby, you should get to work quick" Jennie winked and gave your cock a squeeze.

You could only watch in admiration as Jisoo stood, shyly pulling off her training shorts from beneath her outfit.

"God, look how wet she is just from sucking you off" your girlfriend observed, "You really enjoyed that didn't you?"

You didn't need to hear Jennie's confirmation, you could see it for yourself and the sight only drove your lust to new heights. Wordlessly you stepped towards Jisoo, the timidness you had felt earlier rapidly giving way to lust. You wanted to be inside her, needed to be. Given the treatment you had received earlier, you weren't sure how long you could last but you were ready to make the most of it.

Jisoo turned, one hand reaching out to grab the nearest surface. You had almost forgotten the fact that you were backstage, but the benefit was there were plenty of places for her to grab hold of. Hiking up her skirt, you half expected Jennie's hand to guide your cock to its new hole, but when she didn't intervene, you were more than happy to take the initiative. Leaning forward, your engorged head pressed against her slit, sliding in with some resistance.

With Jennie, you had worked each other up and teased beforehand, but this time there was no such thing. You're not sure either of you would have been able to handle it.

A small yelp left Jisoo as you sheathed yourself deeper into her, reveling in the sensation. It had been ages since you'd been inside any pussy that wasn't Jennie's, and you felt a bit guilty admitting to how good it felt. Her walls clenched around you, welcoming your invasion as one of your hands gripped her lithe waist. Despite wanting to bask in the sensation, you had enough presence of mind to remember time was of the essence. That and your cock was begging for more than just staying still.

You recalled Jennie's earlier words. That despite Jisoo's meager demeanor, she liked things rough. Did that extend to this as well? There was only one way to find out. You pulled your cock out before slamming it back into Jisoo, shaking her petite frame. A moan was cut off as she clamped a hand around her mouth.

Well, that was a good sign.

Her moans were all it took for the switch in your head to go off. Jennie's interruption earlier had left your cock eager for release, and you would be damned if you didn't get it now. You started to pound into the Blackpink vocalist with reckless abandon. Each stroke stretched her tightness more and more. If you were caught right then and there, you don't think you could've brought yourself to stop. You had finally reached heaven, and there was no going back now.

"Oh fuck."

The accented words sounded all too familiar, and you glanced over to see that this time around Jennie wasn't content simply playing a spectator. Her fingers were dipped between her thighs, wrist moving frantically as she got herself off at the sight of her boyfriend fucking her best friend. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths; the visage alone was enough to have your cock swelling inside Jisoo. If you were going to get off, then it was only right that she did as well.

You may not have had Jennie in your ear coaching you this time, but you had an inkling of exactly what was needed. You leaned over Jisoo, her back arched against you, "Jennie's watching right now. You should put on a show for her, don't you think?"

As expected, before she could even muster a verbal response, her pussy tightened around your dick at the mere mention of Jennie watching.

"Well, what do you think?" You questioned, purposefully slowing your thrust to get an answer out of her. You'd like to think if Jennie could speak right now, she'd be proud.

"Y-Yes…"

"Yes what, Jisoo."

"Yes, we should put on a show."

Satisfied with her answer, you picked up your pace again, thrusting forcefully inside her, earning an unmuffled moan in response. You heard another moan from your girlfriend and took it as a sign of approval. Despite being in a similar position to what you had been with Jennie earlier, this had a completely different vibe to it. One that was hard to put into words. You reached forward, grabbing a handful of dark locks and pulled roughly. Jisoo, whose head had been bent forward, was now exposed as you fucked her harder from behind.

You could feel your own release building again, this time even better than the last, but you refused to do so without taking Jisoo over the edge with you.

"Jisoo-ah~ he's getting close, I can tell."

For the first time since you started fucking Jisoo, Jennie spoke up. Her voice was breathy, and you imagined she was drawing towards her own orgasm along with you. You were grateful; it let you focus on fucking Jisoo while Jennie talked her over the edge.

"Ah…When his expression gets like that…" she let out a soft moan, "Remember when he came all over you? He's going to do it again…Fuck…he's going to cum inside you, I'm jealous."

Jisoo covered her mouth just in time as she let out a small scream. However close she had been, Jennie's words were clearly enough to send her over the edge. If you weren't in the midst of nearly cumming, you would have marveled at the power your girlfriend held. Despite her words, you considered pulling out, only to be stopped by Jennie.

"Do it, baby. Cum inside her."

That verbal encouragement was all you needed. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped Jisoo's hips tighter, hips slamming into her once more before your release exploded inside of her. It took a moment; ropes of pent-up cum were finally unleashed as your cock continued to twitch inside her.

For a long moment, all you saw were stars, even as your dick began to soften inside Jisoo. You were faintly aware of Jennie speaking, but you couldn't make out what she was saying with the ringing in your ears. You finally started to come to when Jisoo finally slipped out of your grasp, adjusting her outfit in the process.

You looked to your girlfriend, who had a smile that was far too innocent to not have an ulterior motive.

"Well, now that that's out of the way, we can do some formal introductions. I don't know about you guys, but I think we're all going to get along great."