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roosterforme · 6 months ago

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Aim for the Sky Part 7 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You felt exhausted and unappealing at the start of your third trimester, but according to your husband, you were still perfect. Just as you solve one problem for your friend, you inadvertently cause another one for yourself.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, Bradley eating pussy, swearing, angst, pregnancy

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

As nice as your second trimester had been, as soon as it ended, you were exhausted all the time. And you were once again starting to feel nauseous every morning. Maybe your mom was right and you needed to eat more than random foods dipped in hot sauce sporadically all day long. Your belly was also starting to change from a cute bump to a tender, oversized monster. When you mentioned it to Bradley, he scoffed.

"Don't call my Nugget a monster."

"I'm not talking about the baby!" you said as you started to get dressed for work in your maternity tent, gesturing at your body. "But there's a lot going on here."

"Yeah," Bradley grunted as he pulled a clean flight suit from the closet, eyeing you up and down. "There sure is. You look fantastic."

"I feel tired. And gross," you told him as you got dressed.

"That's just the hideous uniform talking. You didn't feel gross last night when we were snuggling. And you certainly didn't look gross."

You wanted to agree with him, but you were in a bad mood. The attic still wasn't finished even though your contractor, Bradley Ross, was at your house so frequently, it felt like he had moved in. And your parents would be here in four days. And your house still wasn't decorated for the holiday. And the only gifts you managed to buy were matching pink tropical shirts for Bradley and the baby to wear next summer.

Your husband zipped up his flight suit and made his way around the bed to where you were standing. "Would you feel better if I picked up dinner on my way home so you don't have to cook?"

"Probably," you muttered, trying not to smile.

He kissed your forehead and gave you his most innocent looking gaze as his fingers grazed your belly. "And after that, I'll eat your pussy until my jaw locks up and you're in tears from too many orgasms?"

You had to press your lips together for a few seconds before you could say, "Please."

"Then it's a date, Baby Girl," he said before kissing you on the lips, leaving you to chase him for another feel of his rough mustache before you let him leave for his early flight time. "I love you and the Nugget!" he called from the hallway.

"We love you, too!"

Five minutes after he left, you were still getting ready for work. In fact, when your doorbell rang and Tramp went running through the living room, you were still buttoning your tent shirt. "I'm coming," you called out, already knowing it was your contractor. When you pulled the door open, your shirt was buttoned mostly correctly, and you told him, "I'm just about to head out."

"Okay," he replied, taking you in before you stepped aside for him. It didn't matter what your husband said, you were a bit of a hot mess right now. And that reminded you that you needed a little bit of hot sauce before you left for work.

"Do you need anything from me?" you asked Bradley Ross, and his gaze dipped down to your horrible uniform.

"Not at all," he replied, turning toward the stairs. "Enjoy your day."

You parted ways and headed for the kitchen, and you realized your shirt was even worse than you anticipated. You had to unbutton and rebutton the whole thing while your bread was in the toaster. When it came out nice and crunchy, you dipped it into a dish of hot sauce and ate it in four bites.

"It's so fucking good," you moaned at Tramp before scooping him some breakfast. "No hot sauce for you. Just for the human baby," you told him, holding your hand near your belly button as Rose started doing her somersaults. "You're up late this morning," you told her, deciding you better stop in the bathroom one more time before you even attempted the short drive to work with her bouncing on your bladder.

As soon as you were done and walked back through your bedroom, you eyed your bed longingly. "No," you told it, turning away from temptation and walking out to your red Bronco in the driveway. You backed out past the other Bradley's truck and drove to base.

You were already hungry again by the time you got there. When you turned the corner to your office, you found Maria standing next to your door. "Are you waiting for me?" you asked, and her gaze snapped up to yours. "I'm surprised you're here this early with Bob blowing your back out twenty-four hours a day." Tears filled her eyes instantly, and you rushed toward her. "Oh my god, Maria, what's wrong?"

She let you pull her into an awkward hug with your belly in the way, and she sobbed instead of responding with words, so you let her cry. She had been preoccupied at brunch with you and Cam, but she definitely hadn't been like this at all. If anything, she'd seemed like she was lost in a dream world with her French toast the other day.

She sniffed and managed to whisper, "Bob's being deployed for some special mission. He just texted me. He's leaving the day after Christmas."

"Oh," you gasped, rubbing her back as she cried. This would be the first time her boyfriend was deployed since they started hooking up a few months ago. They would be fine. You knew they would. But you recalled all too easily what it was like when Bradley was gone when you and he were first dating. It made you feel sick to recall the feelings of self doubt and uncertainty, especially now that your daughter would be arriving in three months.

You were about to tell Maria that Bob's deployment would feel terrible but wouldn't last forever when she said, "I have to break up with him."

"Pardon?" you asked, completely thrown by what she said. "I thought you were in love with him."

"I am," she cried as you finally unlocked your door with her clinging to you and managed to get her inside. "But I can't tell him that now. We've been taking things a little slower after taking things really fast right after he moved in."

You were trying your best to piece everything together, but it just wasn't all fitting in your mind. "That's good," you said gently. "So why would you have to dump him? You love him, and he'd be coming back to you and the apartment when he gets home?"

She looked at you and shook her head. "I can't expect him to go months and months without having sex. We do it like at least once a day," she whispered as tears flowed down her cheeks. "Maybe he'd agree to take a break? I don't know. But I can't get upset when he wants to hook up with someone else on the aircraft carrier."

You felt like your eyes were going to bug out. "Maria, I really don't think you should be hasty here."

She just shrugged in your arms before pulling away from you and wiping at her tears. "You're so lucky you have Bradley." She left you standing there, unsure what to say.

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

All of the holiday decorations had Bradley a little stressed out. Some of his neighbors had lights on the palm trees in their yards, and there was even a tree inside the guard house. He could remember very little about his dad, but Bradley could remember everything his mom did until he died. For the life of him, the one thing that escaped him was how she made even the most basic things feel magical.

She must have done it effortlessly, because he never took the time to look behind the proverbial curtain to see how it was done. There were always presents under their little Christmas tree even though he realized after she was gone that it must have been a struggle. And now Bradley wasn't sure how he was going to do the same when it all just seemed so stressful.

He snorted as he made his way across the tarmac to the tower. All you said you wanted for Christmas was a babymoon trip and a million orgasms. But you could have asked him for either of those on any day, and he would have given them to you. He needed to find something else for you, too.

"Are you having a baby shower?"

Bradley looked up to find his best friend was looking at him as soon as he walked into the rec room to get a drink. "Good morning to you, too," he said, reaching past her into the refrigerator.

"You need to have one, okay?" she said. "Your wife will like it."

Bradley felt a little more anxious, because he was going to have to admit he was clueless when it came to this topic as well. "Isn't that something her mom should do?"

Nat rolled her eyes. "That's a lot for her mom to handle when she lives on the other side of the country."

He cleared his throat. "Well, what do you even know about baby showers?"

"More than you," she said easily. "Which is why I'll take care of it."

Bradley sighed in relief. "You're not going to give me a hard time about this?"

"Of course not. When have I ever done that sort of thing?"

"Literally since the first time I met you," he muttered as she walked away. But he knew he had nothing to worry about; Nat would make sure you had exactly what you wanted or needed in any scenario.

A minute later, when he got called out to the tarmac, he found his best friend wrapping Bob up in a hug. While he wasn't invited into the conversation, he could hear the dreaded word 'deployment' as he walked past on his way to his jet, leaving him to assume Bob got a notification this morning. Poor Bob, but at least it wasn't him for once.

When he took to the air, Bradley immediately felt a bit calmer. He would figure out how to take care of everything with you by his side. He would make things special for Rosie in his own way. He could share all the things with her that he loved about his mom.

But the thing that calmed Bradley down most of all was arriving in the cafeteria for lunch in time to see you. "Sweetheart!" he called out, cutting in front of Jake and Javy to get to you faster. You had a burrito bowl in one hand and a bunch of little packets of hot sauce in the other, and you still looked cute in your tent uniform. Your face lit up when you saw him, and even though he reeked of jet fuel, you let him give you a hug.

"Do you know where Bob is?" you asked after you kissed him on the cheek. "He and I need to have a conversation."

Bradley ran his hand along your belly, hoping to feel a little thump from the Nugget. "I think he's been notified about a deployment," Bradley muttered.

"I know he has," you replied with strong annoyance in your tone. "Oh, there he is," you said, looking past Bradley. "Excuse me, Roo." You kissed him and added, "I love you, but I need to take care of this. I'll see you at home later when you're going down on me?"

Bradley nearly choked as he muttered, "Okay," while Jake and Javy clearly tried to hide their surprised and amused laughter.

You hurried off in Bob's direction as Javy said, "Nobody better try to call Rooster tonight."

"Silence your cell phone," Jake said, clapping Bradley on the back while he blushed. "Eat your lunch but save room for dinner."

"Fuck," Bradley grumbled, walking away from them as they laughed. Just for that, he'd make sure he was on his A game at home. He'd also have to remind you that your voice tends to carry when you're annoyed.

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

You set your lunch down across from Bob at one of the small tables with only two seats. He smiled as you slid into the chair opposite him, and he greeted you by name. Then he cleared his throat and asked, "You're not sitting with Bradley today?"

You followed his gaze to where your husband was sitting with Nat and Mickey. "Nope. I wanted to sit with you."

"Okay," he replied, still smiling. "But I'm actually waiting for Maria?"

"She's not coming."

His smile started to fade. "She's not?"

"She's not," you confirmed. "She told me you're getting deployed soon." When he nodded, you asked, "Do you like having a girlfriend?"

His smile was back. "I like having Maria as my girlfriend."

You were shaking your head as you started emptying packet after packet of green hot sauce onto your lunch. "And are you planning on sleeping around while you're gone?"

"No." His voice sounded hoarse, and his face went pale.

"Glad to hear that," you told him as you rammed your fork into your burrito bowl.

"Why would you think I'd want to do that?" he asked, leaning a little closer to you, his brow creased in concern.

"I'm not the one thinking it. You better ask yourself why Maria might think you'd want to do that."

Bob's eyes went wide even as he blushed bright pink. "I don't know... I thought she knew how happy I am. I told her she makes me crazy... I said... I s-said I want to go at it all the time now. I've never been with someone like her." You shoved a bite of food into your mouth and chewed it up while he processed his words. "Wait... does she think I'm like obsessed with getting laid? Because I'm certain I'm just obsessed with her."

You nodded as you swallowed, proud of him for piecing it together so quickly. "Seems that way. You have about a week to put in some legwork if you don't want her to break up with you." In an instant, you were left with Bob's abandoned tray as your only lunch companion, and when he didn't return, you ate his breadsticks and baked pasta.

This was turning out to be the longest day imaginable, and when you finally climbed into your Bronco to head home, you were yawning. Then when you pulled into the driveway, not only was your Bradley not home yet, the other Bradley was still working. You grumbled as you made your way inside, where he was hammering something upstairs; you couldn't even start taking your horrible uniform off in the living room after you opted to wear it home today to get here faster.

When you let Tramp out of the laundry room and sent him to the backyard, you were fighting the urge to take your shirt off and walk through the house topless with every fiber of your being. You made it to your bedroom before tearing it from your body along with your uniform pants. You eyed the bed. You were tired enough to get in and stay there, but you wanted your reward for making it through the day.

"Takeout and head," you whispered, nodding in the mirror with a grin. You turned from side to side, examining your belly and your breasts. Rose was moving a lot today, so much so that you almost noticed it more when she took a break. And your boobs did look pretty nice. You took your bra off and added it to the laundry pile, and that's when your husband walked in.

"I brought pizza, Sweetheart," he said before his lips parted in soft surprise. "You trying to get started without me?" he groaned, reaching for his belt.

You bit your lip, and shook your head. "Do you think we should wait until the other Bradley leaves?" you asked, earning a devilish smirk from your husband.

"Didn't stop us last week when we had sex in the laundry room while he was working. And it didn't stop you from sucking my cock while he was here the week before." You squeaked as he smacked you on the butt and whispered, "You promised me I could have your pussy the second I got home."

"Did I?" you asked, climbing onto the bed, and he was right there with you, hovering over your body as you stretched out. When he nodded, you said, "Then I guess it's all yours, Roo."

But that wasn't even where he stopped first, and you shouldn't have been surprised. His lips met the valley between your very perky breasts while he unzipped his pants. Then you watched him rut gently into the bed as he licked and sucked on you. He had some particular fascination with your chest right now, and he was almost reverent in the way he touched you.

The sounds of hammering and soft music playing from upstairs were really doing it for you. Getting nasty while you weren't quite alone was always enough to get you going, but on top of that, your husband was so turned on by your weird pregnant body. You felt like a queen as he plucked at one nipple and then the other with his lips, leaving your skin damp to the cool air. Your nipples were furled into tight peaks as he whimpered your name.

"I can't get enough," he murmured, letting his mustache scrape along your sensitive skin. Your hips bucked from the bed as he let his teeth graze your nipple. "Where do you want my mouth?" he asked, meeting your eyes even as his tongue darted out to trace the undersides of your breasts.

"On my pussy," you gasped.

"I can't hear you."

"On my pussy!" you cried out, and he smiled that wicked smile again.

"Now everyone knows," he growled, leaning on his forearms and treating you to the flex of his biceps as he pushed your thighs apart and settled in.

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

Bradley had one perfect tit in each hand and his face buried in your soaking pussy. Each time he thought you were getting close, he lazily kissed along your dainty rooster tattoo and up to your belly. Once he even paused to say hello to his daughter while you dug your heel into his back and begged him incoherently to put his mouth back on your clit. And he did so with a smile.

Was he rock hard? Yes. Would he love to cum right now? Absolutely. Was he enjoying every second of the way your body felt and tasted? Definitely. Could he wait until he got you off to let himself unload? For sure.

Your tits were getting bigger and more enticing by the day. And your swollen belly was clearly all his doing. He was grinding his cock into the bed as he slid his hands down to your thighs, spreading you a little wider as he licked all around both of your holes until you were whining his name.

"Fuck," he grunted. Bradley Ross had just turned off his radio. That meant he was getting ready to head out for the day, which also meant the hammering had stopped. You were getting loud as hell as Bradley pressed his nose to your clit and lapped up your wetness. He was only concerned for a split second about your volume before he decided to just carry on. It wasn't like the contractor hadn't seen how hot you were with his own two eyes. Nobody could blame a man for getting at his own wife as much as possible, especially one with massive, pregnant tits and the prettiest face imaginable.

"Roo!" you moaned when he wrapped his lips around your clit. "Let me come, Daddy."

You were tired. He could hear it in your voice. The bedding was a little damp from the mess you and he were making, and his jaw truly was starting to ache. When you released the bedding with your left hand, Bradley could see the sparkle of your engagement ring before you dragged your fingers through his hair.

Okay, now he needed to get off pretty badly, so he slipped two fingers inside you, and as soon as he did, you came. "Damn," he grunted against your clit before circling you with his flat tongue as you rode his hand and yanked his hair. You were riding him as he pushed on the back of your thigh until he couldn't take it any longer.

He barked out your name as he got to his knees and thrust his cock inside your overstimulated pussy as you were coming down from your orgasm, and that just made you come for him a little more as you shook your head back and forth on the pillow. One more deep thrust, and he came too, with his hands on your tits and sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

When you opened your eyes, you had the most serene look on your face. Bradley kissed the tip of your nose as he pulled his cock free and grunted. "You know, the guys heard your little pussy eating comment at lunch today."

"Oops," you giggled, running your fingers softly over your tits as he stood up and started fixing his clothing.

"I got roasted for it all afternoon." But he was all smiles, because he really wouldn't have it any other way. "Come out and get some cold pizza when you're ready. I'm going to see how it's coming along upstairs."

You just nodded, and Bradley took one more look at the messy creampie he gave you before vanishing out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. The Craftsman smelled like sawdust and fresh paint, and he was really hoping the project would be completed in the next few days so your parents could sleep up there during their stay. Otherwise he might have to gag you during sexual activities, and he was only half joking in his mind.

Bradley Ross was carrying a paint can and some rollers down the stairs, heading right for the front door. "Have a good night," he called out, barely pausing to get through the door. Perhaps he'd heard your beautiful chorus of moaning. Didn't matter, but Bradley had hoped to ask him how much longer he thought the project would be. Instead he climbed the stairs to investigate for himself.

It looked incredible, and it seemed like a lot had been accomplished today. Two bedrooms of identical size were both primed and ready for paint. The hardwood flooring looked perfect, and the new windows were letting so much natural light in. The bathroom wasn't large, but it did have a tub and a single sink vanity, and the tiles you picked out looked pretty.

He shut all the lights off and headed back down to the kitchen where you were wearing a pair of his underwear with a maternity tank top, dunking a slice of pizza in some hot sauce. "How's it looking?" you asked. He knew you were talking about the attic, but he couldn't help himself as he grabbed a slice from the box.

"It's looking sexy and pregnant and like it just had an orgasm." You burst into laughter as he added, "The project upstairs looks good, too."

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

Later that week, you got a vague text from Bradley letting you know that he'd be late getting home from work. You were expecting maybe he'd be home around six or seven, just in time to help you wrap the presents you ordered for your parents, but he didn't get home until almost eight, long after Bradley Ross left for the day.

He was quiet and looked contemplative when he walked in. "Hi," you called out from where you were sitting on the couch, and he finally met your gaze. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He made his way over to you. "Mav just wanted to chat. Is there any pizza left?"

He kissed you before heading to the kitchen, and you stared after him. "Of course there's no pizza left. I'm pregnant. And are you being weird on purpose? Why are you three hours late getting home?"

You watched as he started to pour a bowl of cereal in silence, and you weren't sure if he was even listening to you. When you made your way into the kitchen, he finally said, "There's a potential job opportunity. Remember when I filled in for a few days here and there as an instructor?" When you nodded he took a bite of cereal before continuing. "Mav seems to think I could do more of that type of shit."

Your eyes went wide at the prospect of fewer deployments for him. "That might be a good opportunity," you told him, still unsure exactly where he stood on the topic.

He just shrugged and said, "It's certainly something to think about, Sweetheart. Wouldn't really be happening until a few months from now, but I'm going to keep the conversation going with Mav."

It was then that you realized he looked exhausted. "Want to take a shower with me? I could wash your hair."

Your husband moaned softly and set his empty bowl in the sink. "Hell yes. Absolutely."

Within three minutes, you had your hands coated in shampoo, and you were working them through his thick hair while he felt around your belly, hoping to feel the baby kick. "I feel like I barely got to spend any time with her this week," he whispered with a pout. "Where's my Nugget?"

You felt her give a little thump, as if she knew he was right there waiting for her. You quickly placed his hand a little higher, and he sighed in contentment. "Hey, Rose. Daddy's tired. Can we all snuggle in bed soon?" She seemed to squirm in response. "Your grandparents are coming to visit tomorrow."

"And the attic conversion should be done tomorrow, too," you told him. "That's what the other Bradley said when he was leaving today."

"Amazing. Merry Christmas to us."

You practically tucked him into bed as soon as he was dried off, but he kept reaching for you to join him. "I need to let Tramp out. I'll be right back." You walked through the kitchen and past the refrigerator which was covered in ultrasound photos. Then you straightened up a little bit while Tramp ran around the yard. By the time you got back to the bedroom, Bradley had fallen asleep with the Nugget Notebook open on his chest and a pen in his hand. You took a peek to see what he had written.

Hey, Rosie. It's almost Christmas. I'm not really good at celebrating holidays, but your mom is. Her parents are, too. I'm hoping I'll kind of figure this whole thing out once you get here. I'm thinking you'll make everything more fresh and fun for your old man. We can get better at things together.

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

You were more than ready for a few days off. When you left work on December twenty-first, you reminded Cat that you planned on dropping off some gifts for Jeremiah over the weekend. When you got to the parking garage, you saw Maria and Bob making out next to his truck. He had her hands pinned above her head, and she was all smiles. You felt immediately better.

You knew the plan for the evening, and so did Bradley. Your parents were landing in San Diego at 6:15, and you assured them that you'd be there to pick them up. When you got home from work, Bradley Ross was finishing some details upstairs, and you were delighted by what you saw when you went to have a look.

"It's perfect," you gushed, looking around the space. The one bedroom was almost ready for your mom and dad. Someone would just need to make the bed later. The bathroom was shiny and bright and lovely, ready to be used. The second bedroom still had some wet paint, but you planned on just closing that door for a few days. "Let me write you a check for the balance," you told your contractor when he was about ready to leave. "I'll meet you in the kitchen."

After you wrote out the check, you waited for both Bradleys while you dipped some grapes in hot sauce. It was almost time to leave for the airport, and you still needed to change out of your uniform tent. You undid the top few buttons and played with your necklace charms, and as soon as Bradley Ross walked downstairs with the rest of his supplies, you rushed his way.

"Here's what we owe you. Thanks again for squeezing us into your schedule so close to the holidays."

"I hope you are happy with the outcome for many years to come," he told you with a smile.

"It looks so good, I'll definitely refer my friends to you for any projects in the future."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bradshaw."

You didn't bother correcting him when he didn't use your hyphenated last name, because as soon as he walked outside, you had your shirt off and you were rushing toward your bedroom. But as soon as you passed your mirror on your bra on the way to the closet, you paused and smiled. Your husband would love a little treat in his text messages; it had been ages since you sent him something dirty.

You snapped a photo of your boobs as they were hugged by the black lace. Then you took your bra off, covering your nipples with your hand and forearm before snapping another. Then you removed your arm and took one last picture of your breasts complete with tightly furled nipples. You expected that your husband would run into the house begging for a quickie before heading to the airport. The thought of his flushed cheeks and raspy voice made you giggle as you attached the photos and texted them away.

His hyperfixation was so fun for you right now, and you started to wonder if he was going to be as excited by your boobs after the baby was born. Would he be interested in the breastfeeding process?

"Hey, Baby Girl."

You turned toward the doorway as you straightened your sports bra and pulled an oversized shirt on. "Hi," you said, trying to play coy, but just grinning wildly instead.

"You ready to go get your mom and dad?"

"Yeah... almost. You looked down at his gym shorts where you could see the outline of his phone in his pocket. You pouted a bit when you had to ask, "Did you like the photos I texted to you?"

His brow furrowed as he patted his pocket. "What photos?"

You sighed. "The ones I sent like five minutes ago."

You watched as he unlocked his phone and started to shake his head. "I don't have any messages from you since lunchtime. What was it?"

"Thee pictures of my massive tits," you told him as you reached for his phone. But when you checked, they definitely weren't there. "Maybe I didn't tap send?" you murmured picking your phone up from the bed.

Bradley's arms wrapped around you from behind, and you could hear the smile in his voice when he whispered, "Can't wait to see them for myself." But you froze and tried to shake him off as your stomach lurched.

"Oh no. No no no no no!"

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?"

You handed him your phone and covered your eyes as you started to panic. Apparently you hadn't tapped on Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3 in your contacts. After you started typing his name, you must have accidentally selected Bradley Ross as the recipient. "Bradley! I sent them to the other Bradley!"

His eyes bugged out as he saw the photos in the message for himself. "You sent our contractor pictures of your tits!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" you shrieked. "They were for you! What are we supposed to do now?!"

He pocketed both phones, heaved a deep, exhausted sigh and muttered, "I'm going to have nothing but fucking gray hair after this, I swear to god." Then he rushed from the room and you followed him long enough to watch him grab his keys and run out to his Bronco.

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Checking in with Maria and Bob was dramatic. Like damn. At least BG got to eat his lunch. And now we have the great Bradley mix-up to contend with. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 8

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god-has-entered-my-body · 7 months ago

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How can I refuse? - Matty Healy

A/N: am still not ready to let MPIND Matty go so have this xx (edit: this is non-canon, so it doesnt have anything to do with the plot of MPIND or its sequel, Before you go)

wc: 5k

content warnings: smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), marking, lipstick kink?, lingerie, begging, praise, teasing, general possessiveness, matty wears a skirt x

Most people live off of food, water, and oxygen. You know, the actual building blocks of life. When it came to Matty, it was all about your eyes, specifically, where they looked. It always had to be with him. Matty. Only him, no one else.

He might tease and poke fun, but it was his weakness. Seeing you reach for your camera even your most intimate moments made his insides twist up and his stomach flutter with butterflies. Posing and contorting to your will, he did his absolute best to look amazing for you, to look how you wanted him to look. He relished in the small gasps you’d let out when the picture developed, his skin glowing under the flash, a thin layer of sweat sticking to it.

Which is why, when you had left the house to go pick up something you’d left at Ross and Hann’s flat, he saw an opportunity. The door slammed shut with an echo through the foyer, signifying you had departed. This was one of the rare times you hadn’t taken your bag with you, leaving it hanging on a chair in the kitchen, completely out in the open.

Matty’s eyes flickered over to it from the sofa, waiting a few moments to see if you’d come back for it. The house stayed silent, the only sound coming from the sofa creaking as he got up, tentatively walking over into the kitchen. Your bag was already zipped open, the contents of it clearly visible. One specific item stood out to him, glimmering under the light. Your precious camera.

The purple plastic was smooth in his hands, his fingers gliding over the surface. Matty could feel his heart begin to race at the thought of what this very lense had seen. His bare skin, your hands on him, nails raking over his chest, leaving scratch marks in their wake. Memories flashed through his head as he mindlessly walked into your now shared bedroom.

The once warm white fairy lights had been swapped out for pink ones instead, a new addition to your shared space that you were yet to discover. Your bed was unmade, sheets scattering across the mattress in a messy fashion, everything covered in an obscene amount of pillows.

This had been on Matty’s mind quite a while now, though he never had the opportunity to act on it. That is, until now. It was perfect, with you gone out for god knows how long, he had the ideal set up for a bit of “mischief” as he himself put it.

He groans as the warmth of the bed enveloped him, welcoming him home. Pink light poured over the sheets, painting them in a warm hue. Perfect.

Mattys began setting up.

Femininity wasn’t unknown to him. He owned multiple skirts and dresses, makeup products, even hair pins and clips he’d managed to nick from you when you weren't looking. You knew about all of this, seeing him every day, it would be pretty hard to miss it. Though, there was one thing he hadn't told you about yet. His affinity for womens clothes wasn't just limited to the odd skirt or sheer top, but also included undergarments.

Neatly folded in a drawer underneath piles of socks and shirts, was a small collection of womens lingerie. Panties and garters in various colorways, ranging from cotton to silk or even the odd piece of lace. It wasn't like he’d been hiding it from you, you just never asked. Feeling slightly giddy, he grabbed a pair of black lace panties from the pile, slipping them on underneath his basic grey joggers. Showtime.

Matty had decided to forgo a shirt for this specific photoshoot, knowing you'd much prefer him without one. The camera was heavy in his hand, weighing it down slightly as he lifted it slightly above his line of sight. Offering a sly grin to the lense, he pressed down onto the shutter, the flash almost blinding him. The picture looked innocent enough, the only remotely suggestive thing was his lack of top.

Ruffling his hair with his fingers, he tugged down his joggers slightly, letting them hang low on his hips as he snapped the second picture, this time, from below. His hip tattoo was the most visible, standing out against his pale skin like a sore thumb. That still did nothing to distract from the obvious bit of lace peeking out from the band of his pants. The thought of you seeing him like this drove him insane, but he quickly regained his composure before getting in place for the third photo.

Matty had managed to pull off his pants with only one hand, the other inspecting the fresh polaroid that the camera had just spit out. Now completely naked, apart from a skimpy pair of panties, it was time to get a bit more creative.

Setting the camera on the desk adjacent to the bed, he set a timer. Hearing it tick down, Matty found a good position and stayed. Flash. The sudden light was something he could never get used to, his eyes always slightly scrunched up in the pictures.

The camera was placed further away, but not too far, capturing the entirety of Mattys body. He was perched on the bed, on his knees with his legs spread, chest pushed out dramatically.The underwear he had on was now fully visible, the thin material barely concealing anything. His hand covered his growing erection, the thought of your reaction to the pictures once he was done was enough to give him a semi. The flash didn't bother him too much, throwing his head back just in time for the shutter to go off.

Leaving the picture on the bed next to him to develop, he grabbed the camera off the desk, setting it aside. His hand trailed down his chest, ghosting over his nipple piercing. Giving it a tug, just as you would if you were here, he let out a wanton whimper, letting go. The other hand was already palming himself through his panties, getting him fully hard.

The sensation of the lace rubbing up against his cock was almost too much, precum oozing out of the tip, painting the front of the panties with a wet patch. Working himself up, his hand reached for the camera, turning it around to face the lense to himself. Forcing his eyes open, parting his lips, he groaned desperately, clicking the shutter as he did.

The picture didnt show anything below the top of his chest, but fuck, it didnt need to. The expression on his face was one of pure want, lust, desire. Taking deep breaths to pull himself together, Matty moved on to his fifth and final position.

On his stomach, he propped a pillow underneath his elbows, giving him something to lean on. His curls fell over his face messily, covering most of his left eye. Knowing you, you'd probably make some offhanded comment about how he looked “terribly emo” like that, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. That wasn't important right now.

Angling the camera just right, his finger came up to meet his lips, pushing through them and into his wet mouth. Sucking on them slightly, he lets them hang out lazily, coating his lips and chin in spit. The flash reflected brilliantly off of his fingers, making the whole picture appear even lewder than it already was.

Quite happy with his work, he sets all five polaroids onto the bed in front of him, admiring himself. Painfully hard underneath his panties, he knew you would be coming home soon, and quickly scrambled up to put on some clothes. Grinning as he walked over to the wardrobe, he knew exactly what he was going to wear for you.

—---------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of the keys hitting the counter echoes through the house. Eyes darting across the room, you see no sign of Matty anywhere. Brushing it off, you shrug your jacket onto the sofa, sitting down on top of it, hand itching for a cigarette. You look around for a stray pack Matty had left somewhere.

That's when you see it.

The posh glass table had almost hidden the items that were placed upon it. You immediately recognised them as what they were: Polaroids. Heart racing a thousand miles an hour, you pick up the first one.

It was of a shirtless Matty grinning up from below, and you feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Another picture, this time from below, also shirtless, with pants hung low on his waist. Your breath hitches at the sight of his underwear peeking out from the waistband, holding the polaroid to your face to get a closer look. Lace. You moan audibly at the sight, blushing slightly at your reaction.

Hands shaking from excitement, you take the third picture, and you swear, your heart stops. Matty looks like a work of art, legs spread onto your shared bed like a true pornstar, head thrown back in an attempt to show off his long, slender neck. The bulge in his panties was badly hidden by his hand, leaving barely anything to the imagination.

The fourth is your favorite, always partial to Matty’s beautiful face. His open mouth and hooded eyes made your head spin, feeling lightheaded at the sight. The thought of him like this underneath you made your thigh clench, soaking your underwear.

The final picture is probably the filthiest. Fingers in his mouth, spit covering most of the bottom part of his face. So distracted by it all, you almost manage to oversee the bright pink post-it note stuck to the center of the table.

“upstairs x” was scrawled onto the paper, Matty’s handwriting immediately recognisable. It hits you at once. Matty was upstairs, waiting for you. He was waiting for you and you knew he was ready. Scrambling to get up the stairs, you stub your toe against the bannister, cursing out loud.

Before you can open the door, you're greeted by another note. This time, there was heart scribbled onto a green post-it, messily encasing both of your initials. An arrow ran through it, and you got the message immediately.

The door seemed awfully heavy as you pushed against it, pink light flooding your senses. Matty.

Matty was laying on the bed, legs stretched out on top of unorganized pillows and sheets. A green skirt covered his lower body, the satin shimmering in the light, almost blinding. The mesh top he had paired with it showed his piercing perfectly, the sight going straight to your core.

Before you can react, or even properly take him in, a flash actually blinds you. Matty has your camera. You rub your eyes to get rid of the burning sensation, before turning your head back to meet his eyes. A grin makes its way onto his face, the purple object clutched in his hands as the polaroid comes off of the top. Waving it through the air as it develops, you give him a look, holding up the pictures he had left you.

“You like em?” he asks, eyes darting over your body. You knew you looked desperate, hands slightly shaking and pupils completely blown out in lust. Nodding your head, you take a step towards the foot of the bed just as he gets up. Patting the space next to him, he looks at you expectantly, setting the photo and camera aside.

Getting a closer look at him, you realize he’s wearing makeup. This isn't unusual for Matty, but what was unusual was the bright red shade of lipstick lining his mouth. The sight made you smile, seeing as the product had smudged ever so slightly down his face.

The moment you settle in next to him, he flings his body on top of yours, straddling your waist. No genre of porn could top the sight in front of you right now, not even close. His curls stuck to the top of his forehead, and you could see his raging hard on through the thin material of his skirt.

“Why don't you get this off for me, yeah?” you tug at the seam of it, and Matty nods frantically, pulling it up and over his head before discarding it in a random corner. If heaven was a place on earth, it would be right in this room, with Matty, half naked and hard.

As seen in the picture he had so kindly gifted you, the lace panties truly didn't do anything to conceal him. The mesh top (yours of course) ended right above his hip bone, showing the perfect amount of skin. His eyes looked dazed as he leaned down to kiss you, lips smashing against yours.

The kiss is slow at first, with Matty deepening it the moment you kiss him back. Tongue and teeth and spit and his soft moans as you licked into his mouth filled your senses, your mind thrown into a lustful haze, the only cure being Matty finally fucking doing something.

Your hands thread into his hair, tugging in that way you knew he liked as his lips trailed down your jaw and onto your neck, sucking deep purple hickeys into your skin. A rough hand pushes your shirt up over your head, meeting the same fate as his skirt, forgotten in a corner. You silently thanked god today was a no bra day as your nipples hardened against the cool air.

You feel his hips grind down onto your thigh, soft whimpers leaving his lips as he continues his assault on your neck and chest. Nibbling at your collarbones, you see him reach under the pillow for something.

Red flashes across your vision, before settling right in front of you. Lipstick. Uncapping the top, you watch as Matty refreshes his lips, dabbing the product on softly, just as you had shown him months before. His eyes never left yours, a certain air of cockiness surrounding him.

Before you could react, Matty’s hand pushes you further into the bed, your head sinking into the pillows. The lipstick is slightly warm against your chest, and your breath hitches as you realize what he's doing. Matty is writing on your body, and you know exactly what.

His name.

Ever the territorial type, he had a knack for carving his initials into things. Whether it be the chair in your old room he used to have monopoly over, or random benches he sat on often. Bus stops, furniture, even walls had either his first name or initials carved into it. You were no different.

The red of the lipstick is bright against your skin, and Matty knew it would stain, which was exactly why he chose it. Small gasps leave your mouth as he palms your tits, leaning back to admire his artwork.

Kisses litter your ribcage, and you feel him lick a hot stripe across your underboob. Never breaking eye contact, he tugs at the waistband of your jeans, silently asking permission.

“Yeah, go ahead baby.” you say, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He smiles back at you, moving further down your body. Tugging your pants off of you, he snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin, making you yelp in surprise. A light giggle escapes him as he rids you of your underwear, now face to face with your glistening core.

The room felt unnaturally hot, and with Matty looking up at you from between your legs with that look in his eye that screamed “I'm going to devour you”, it seemed like even the slightest touch could have you coming in seconds.

His hand reaches around your thighs, making you scoot up slightly before diving into your folds, lapping at your clit with dizzying accuracy. It was so much all at once after endless teasing, and you were unable to control any other bit of your body. His strong hands gripped your skin, digging into it with such force that the spot started to go numb.

Writhing underneath him, his tongue licks circles around your clit, up, down and side to side, never letting you get used to something for too long. One of his hands leaves your thigh, instead, joining alongside his mouth between them.

Matty had big hands, the type basketball players and athletes usually had. His finger pushing into you felt like two of yours, and you immediately clenched around him, borderline pornographic moans spilling from your lips. Pumping in and out of you, that paired with the stimulation of his tongue had your head spinning and the world around you blurring as he added another digit, curling both upwards.

“Good?” you could smack him right now.

Smirking as he hits your g-spot, you squirm under his touch, trying to warn him of your approaching orgasm.

“F-fuck Matty, so good, you’re so good- Ohh god fuck.” your eyes screw shut, and you can feel the elastic in your core tightening as he speeds up, thrusting his fingers in and out of you at an animalistic pace.

He sucks your clit between his lips, and that's what throws you over the edge. You come, hard, probably harder than you have in your entire life, shaking and twitching as he tries to prolong your orgasm up until you start to move away from him.

His hand finds your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingertips as your eyes shut, basking in the afterglow of a mind blowing orgasm. You're at peace, completely oblivious as Matty shuffles around for a second, and you hear a shutter.

It happens so quickly, the photo was already in his hand developing when you finally open your eyes. Matty’s eyes stare back down at you, piercing your soul. In one hand, the camera, and in the other, he holds a fresh polaroid. One of you.

A blush spreads onto your face when you realize what he had done, covering your cheeks with your hand. Matty breaks eye contact to glance at the picture in his hand, his eyes widening at the sight.

It was all you, for the first time since you had pulled out that godforsaken camera. Hair strewn over the plush pillows, eyes screwed shut, and Matty’s hand groping your chest as he snapped the picture. You looked fucked out, like the personification of sex itself.

“Fuckk- you’re so pretty.” The first word sounds like a moan coming from his mouth, but he tries to hide it with the rest of his sentence. The red lipstick across your chest really did it for him, his cock twitching in his panties as he stared at the shiny polaroid. You start to get impatient.

“Why’re you looking at those when you have the real thing right in front of you?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow. You can hear the cogs turning in Matty’s brain as he lowers it from in front of his face.

Your hands travel up to grope your own tits, slightly smearing the imprint of his name. Letting out an obscene moan, you feel his own hands caress your face, pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

“Can I?” The question is small. Even in the heat of the moment, Matty always stopped and asked, gently stroking your hair and looking for any and all signs of hesitation. You decide to be mean, putting on a faux confused expression.

“Can you what?” your voice drips like honey, covering him from head to toe. Feeling him buck against your thigh, you shoot him a look, expecting an answer.

“Can I fuck you?” he whines, arms holding himself up right next to either sides of your head. “Please.” he adds, his eyes full of want and desperation. You pretend to think about it, averting your eyes and looking at the lamp on the ceiling for a moment while sucking in a deep breath.

The only thing that can be heard is Matty’s heaving breathing as he continues to buck into your thigh, although involuntarily. He tries to control himself, counting in 7’s and thinking of anything else but the person in front of him. Finally, you open your mouth to speak.

“Fuck me like you mean it, Matthew.”

The speed at which he took off the thin lace panties confining him could be recorded as a world record. Basically ripping them off, he throws them onto the steadily growing pile of clothing in the corner. Gasping for air, his eyes roll to the back of his head when your hand meets his throat, pressing against each side.

You hum, and Matty snaps back into reality, and you feel his hard cock leaking against your thigh. You wonder how long he had been sitting there, on the bed, waiting for your return. Did he touch himself? Has he cum already today? Or was he good and waited for you to give him what he really wanted.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” you ask, right before he was about to push into you. The question takes him aback, and he nods his head.

“Only a bit, to get myself hard for you.” his voice shakes in anticipation as you process his answer.

“You didnt cum?” Matty shakes his head, curls moving with him.

“No I didn't, I promise. I waited for you. Only want you.” he mumbles into your hair, breathing in the scent of your conditioner.

You finally nod, hands pressing against his back, giving him the official go-ahead.

The moment the tip of his cock brushed against your entrance, his voice cracked. Loud moans spilled out of his mouth and directly into your ears as he pushed himself all the way inside of you, making you whimper at the stretch.

You both lay like that for a moment, before you finally tap him, telling him to move. When he finally does, he thrusts himself all the way back into you, making you cry out, nails digging into his back.

The animalistic nature of his thrusts makes you feel lightheaded, gripping onto Matty for dear life. He murmurs incoherent cries of pleasure into your hair, his hands moving down to grip your hips, meeting his thrusts halfway.

“So gorgeous, no one can compare. Feel so fucking good too, oh my go-” you clench around him, effectively cutting him off. The feel of his hands digging into your skin is painful, mixing in with the pleasure blooming between your thighs perfectly.

He doesn't let up, keeping a steady rhythm as his moans become more high pitched, signaling to you (and probably the whole neighborhood) that he was rapidly approaching the edge.

“Please let me cum, you feel so good- oh my god. You’re so wet- and warm fuckk- a-ah.” His words feed your ego, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in incredibly deeper.

Sweat beads on your forehead, and you see him pull away from the crook of your neck to stare at his name scrawled across your chest. The lipstick had started to properly smear, red running down your skin, painting it.

“C’mon, come f’me, such a good boy, go on, I know you can do it-” a guttural moan falls from Matty’s lips, his thrusts getting sloppier, cock slamming into that sweet spot inside of you over and over and over.

You come for the second time that night, your vision whites out as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. Stars dance behind closed eyelids and he slowed down slightly, giving you time to catch your breath.

“You like it when I call you a good boy? You're being so good- fuck filling me up-” This was all about Matty now, and you were determined to give him the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.

His dick twitches inside of you as you tell him to keep going, to use you to get off. Eyes widening in shock at your statement, his face quickly morphed into undeniable pleasure as his cock dragged along your plush walls, the friction sending him into what seemed like an alternate dimension.

“I look pretty, don't i? Look at your name on my chest.” you breath, your hands cupping your chest, gesturing to the bold red of his name. Matty.

“You're mine, no one else’s” his possessive side finally truly comes out to play, words spilling out from his lips before he could even properly think about them.

“I’m yours, only yours, my perfect boy, fuckk” you egg him on, your hands moving to his back, digging your nails into the muscle. You dig deep enough to draw a bit of blood, and Matty groans, raspy and desperate to fucking come.

“You’re perfect, fuckin’ made for me.” He right there, and you know it,

“Matty, you’re so good to me, so pretty- all for me, isn’t it?” you voice drips with lust, determined to make him finally fall over the edge.

“Oh god- fuck- A-ahh.” His voice is high, higher than yours even. He spills into you, his come filling you up to the brim. You moan at the sensation, pulling him in for a messy kiss, your teeth clashing together.

Matty flops on top of you, your chests pressed together as you continue your post-fuck makeout session. You can feel his come leaking out of you, pressing your thighs together to keep it off the bed.

“Why’re you so tense? I just gave you the best orgasm of your life, thank you.” of course Matty would say something like that, cocky and egotistical as ever. Your roll your eyes, debating on telling him or not.

“You just came inside of me, it's not like it just disappears.” his eyes widen in realization, and you laugh sheepishly, your face growing red. A grin spreads onto his face, and his head suddenly disappears from view.

“Let me just-” you feel his tongue in between your thighs once again, lapping up the remnants of his own orgasm. You shudder at the feeling, the overstimulation being almost too much.

He crawls back up to kiss you again. It's chaste, innocent almost, barely even a peck.

You can feel him shuffling around again, reaching to the side to grab something. The picture. He holds it up so you can both see it.

“Can I at least wank to this one? Since you have all those others of mine you constantly get off to.” he tries to sound indifferent, but deep down, you know he’s begging for your approval.

“How do you know I get off to them?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at him. Matty just laughs in your face, not realizing you were serious. How did he know?

“You're not slick, the walls are thin.” he gives you a wink, and you blush a deep shade of red, rolling your eyes at him. He sees right through your act, but chooses to leave you be.

Night had already fallen, and both of you were too exhausted to even move from your spot. Matty had switched with you, laying your head onto his chest, letting you use it as a makeshift pillow. It wasn't even 20 minutes before his soft snores filled the room, gracing your ears.

You smile to yourself, feeling his hand still in your hand from where he was stroking it. One though was clear in your mind, and you speak softly.

"I love you so much, I'm never letting you go."

#the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty x you #matty the 1975

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chimivx · 23 days ago

Text

home;run -> fem!reader x mlb!mingyu, mlb!vernon, mlb!dk

College didn't work out, so you're stuck with the next best thing. Living with your superstar brother, traveling with his championship winning team, haunted by your past and heavily influenced by your present.

wc; {part three} 7.1k warnings; 18+, sexual content, alcohol consumption/abuse, bad influences around her, manipulation, her name gets taken advantage of in public media, if i missed anything please let me know!! notes; peese n lurv. <3

[thirteen<3]: where are youuu

The message was sent after the photo. Shirtless, a towel hanging off his hips, every inch of his chest, his hips, and his sculpted shoulders were on display. Tapping the back of your head on the wall of the hotel hall three times, you sighed and frowned. Daya would enjoy this, maybe you should send it to her. Then again, if you did, the photo would be on the cover of every tabloid and magazine by tomorrow morning. Between her and Halle, one of them was the weasel you wished you had the energy to figure out, but there were bigger matters at hand.

Swiping out of your messages you reluctantly tap on Instagram, your manicured finger hitting the search button just as slow. Slipping your bottom lip between your teeth you type his name. Chwe. He was the first and only account to show up with a blue check, all of the others had ridiculous handles of his name and different numbers strung together to represent him in some way. He had fan accounts already. It’d been one day and he already had people making pages for him.

Granted, at Nasara he’d had a couple, some fanboys from when he played on the Knights hoping he’d get handed over to their favorite team, which he did not. In one day he’d exploded, though, it’s probably been longer than a day since this news would be common public knowledge to anyone who paid attention to baseball and not the bottom of a bottle.

The profile pictures of the accounts were of him in red, his photo taken for the team the day he signed his contract. God, he’s signed his contract already. It was the first and only post on his feed, all the other photos gone. The photo of you and him was gone, the one taken in the bathroom of the Conoscenza library on the Nasara campus, the image still clear as day in your head. He was standing in the middle of the floor in front of the wide mirror on the beige stoned wall and you were in front of the camera leaning toward the glass, both of you making the worst face known to man.

You wandered in after him without a care, midstream, which made him laugh, the sound bouncing around the tall walls. Shouting toward you, shooing you off, sarcastically scolding you for following him inside the mens room, you answered him with a shrug and proceeded to wrap your arms around his chest while asking him if he wanted you to hold it for him. Pouting at his no, he let you zip his jeans instead, the happy smile lighting up your lips making him laugh all over again.

Your arms wrapped back around his chest, him dragging you along to the sink, then toward the door where you tried to plant your feet into the tile, moaning and groaning about not wanting to go back out to do homework. He’d shot you a look, grabbed your hands and maneuvered you off of him, mumbling something about the sounds you had made and that if you didn’t stop people would think you were hooking up in here.

He never learned.

You moaned and groaned louder, chin tipping backward for extra dramatics to which he lunged forward and tried to press his fingers to your lips. Catching them with your teeth, he had clenched his own, his eyes widening, his laughter maniacal triggering your own. Letting him go, your hands having somehow latched onto his hoodie at some point, you had turned to check your appearance in the mirror and that’s when he whipped out his phone.

“Don’t, I look guh-ross,” you mocked your sorority president's attitude.

“You’re always beautiful,” he mumbled, watching you through the phone camera.

“Even like this?”

He laughed at the face you made, then copied it.

It went up on his Instagram later that night while you were slumped over his shoulder on the leather couch in his fraternity's living room, and it stayed there for a year. Considering this month made that moment several, several months back. A year since that little unspoken thing went from a spark to a flame, months before you snuffed it out.

The weight settled in your stomach. The guilt.

Now his profile had half a million followers. Five hundred thousand people followed him, watched him. The post pinned to the top of his profile, the only post, him signing his contract, shaking the manager and coaches hands, smiling wider than ever while he held up his first Lions jersey with Chwe stitched above the red number seven. The series of photos at the signing ended with a photo of him and his mom, the woman an inch or so shorter than him, holding onto him with a matching smile. His mom who believed in him just enough to send him to school all on her own. His words.

You should’ve been there, at the signing, at the sealing of the deal of his dreams. For the two and a half years you knew him this had been his ultimate dream, the big leagues, it’s what he worked tirelessly, entirely too hard for. He pushed himself harder than you’ve ever seen, and you grew up with the best pitcher in baseball. Too many practices would end with him lying limp over a bleacher, arms slung over his forehead, or him squatting down on the field, shirt drenched with his sweat, sucking in breaths, telling himself not to get sick. Between the two of you that seemed to be the type of moment you shared most. You could use both hands to count. You’d crack open a Gatorade and pass it back and forth.

“J- Isla?” DK’s voice traveled down the hall, startling you, your phone slipping from your hands into your lap. Whipping your head to the right he was headed toward you, his partner in crime beside him, both of them in sweats and different t-shirts. Their hair was messy, him and Woozi’s, and their cheeks were still rosy from the practice.

Scrambling to your feet, shoving your phone into the pocket of your jeans, you placed a hand onto the wallpaper and steadied yourself. His gaze was completely unreadable, everything about him making you feel uneasy. Uncomfortable, but because you knew you did something wrong. Woozi whispered something to him, the two exchanging words, only your brother looking at you. Silence accompanied them when they passed by you though, Woozi bobbing his head with the smallest smile.

“Hey, Moonie,” he said, his voice like butter. Lips pressed together tight, he continued on to the door next to the one your brother stood at, the one you sat beside, and shot you a wink before disappearing into it, but not before he muttered, “See you at dinner,” to DK.

Fiddling with the room key he nodded to the catcher and pulled down on the handle, shoving his door open, holding it from the inside, waiting for you to follow him in. Hesitating only a few seconds, sucking in a harsh breath, you barreled after him, his head nodding once in confirmation that he was right, you were going to follow him inside.

But what came after, he didn’t expect.

“Since when does Vernon play for the Lions?”

DK kicked off his sneakers by the door, his brows furrowing above his bright eyes. Avoiding your frantic glare and the way you spoke with your hands after they tore through your hair, he pulled off his practice shirt and slipped into a new one, a fresh one from his open suitcase on the floor by the end of his made up bed. Wandering about his room, filling glasses of water, one for him and one for you because you haven’t shut up, he finds a seat on the edge of the armrest of the couch shoved against a wall and holds the glass out toward you.

“You must’ve known he was traded, didn’t you? And you didn’t tell me, why? Is this some sort of punishment ‘cause of Mingyu? I mean, what the hell is going on, DK. I never thought I would see this boy ever again in my life and on the very first day of us being here, he’s here?! When did they even get him, when did they bring him here? Bring him up? He was supposed to have a whole other year before something like this happened, how the hell is this happening?”

You paced the floor. You flattened your hair, and fluffed it up, then flattened it again. DK watched you, his eyes traveling back and forth as you wound circles over the carpet around his bed. It was until you crossed into the smaller kitchen of his suite onto the tile that he cleared his throat and whirled you around with it.

With a sarcastic smile he looked up at you from the couch. “Isla?”

Hands clamped to your cheeks, you said, “Yeah?”

He blinked twice. “What are you talking about?”

You took a step toward him. “Vernon,” you whispered, and he didn’t move. Sighing heavily, you said, “Hansol Vernon Chwe? The scrawny little boy you guys had on first base today?” You held up a hand above your head. “About this tall, the prettiest eyes, the goofiest laugh, the best…” You cut yourself short.

“It’s his first season with us, he’s going to be starting for Seungcheol, but he doesn’t know that yet. Coach scouted him, or so the story goes, but he was hand picked really. Since last summer we knew we were getting him.”

Your heart sank. “You… You knew you were getting him? Since last summer?” DK nodded, sipping his water. The glass he once offered to you now sat on the wooden end table beside him. Flashes of the last few months you spent with him resurfaced, each one mimicking the one in the hall.

“Isla, why the questions?”

Clenching your hands into fists you took a step toward him. “This is why his coaches treated him the way they did. He thought it was ‘cause he wasn’t getting any better.” DK’s eyes narrowed, flickering once to your stance, the angry feelings visibly manifesting. “You know how sick they made him? What they did to his confidence? And it was all so you guys could snatch him up, keeping this big secret while he wasted away, trained alone away from his own team. He thought he was losing it.”

“Why have I never once heard you speak of him before this?”

Because you weren’t ever supposed to see him again.

“Isla, first of all, do you know what you did to me today?” He lifted a hand gently, as if one wave of his fingers would press pause on the chaos that was you. “I worded that wrong,” he breathed, taking his hand to his chin, “Do you know what happened today, because of something you didn’t tell me?” Frozen in place, his hand waving worked, you could only look at him and hope the baby sister eyes would evade you of any and all punishment. “I had to find out through Soonyoung, the biggest mouth on the team, that you and Mingyu are in a relationship.” The words slapped you across the face. “Every story says that you confirmed it, and then, I had to learn that Mingyu had no idea you were going to do something like this either.”

You whispered, “It just came out of me.”

DK laughed, keeping it within himself. “I know it did. I thought to myself, maybe this was an accident ‘cause I know my sister would’ve said something to me about it first. You know, we’re kind of trying to have this whole trust thing going on ‘cause she admitted to me a couple months ago that she was struggling, that she wanted help, and she confided in me, but now that she’s got this boy she’s pulling away from me.” He took a breath, one that refused to reach the pit of his stomach. “Either she’s making her decision and I can’t help her anymore, or it’s a goddamn cry for help.”

“The boy himself doesn’t even speak to me, so it’s not like I can go through him to figure out what’s going through your head, Jagi,” he spoke softly now, his voice doing a complete one eighty. “We’ve talked about this, you said it was no more than… just fun with Mingyu, but now it’s so much more. You’re in a relationship, one that a ton of people are involved in, it’s not just the two of you, you know this. The team’s going to get you involved, the girls are going to get you involved, it’s going to be this big huge thing now.”

“I am not one of them,” you whispered, and he smiled.

“But, now you are.”

“I’m not going to let that happen to me, I am going to change what it means to be one of them, I’m going to shift the stereotype.”

DK thinned his lips and searched his brain for the right words to say. “Jagiya, I love you, but you are the stereotype.” You scoffed, and his magic hand raised. “What have you been doing since New Years?”

Tilting your head side to side, you said, “Hanging out with Mingyu.”

DK nodded. “And, what do you do when you hang out with Mingyu?”

“We go out, and drink, and take pictures, and we talk to… everyone.”

He hummed, bobbing his head. “That’s right, you do,” he said. “You answer a lot of questions about Mingyu when the girlies at the bar ask you about him?” You nodded. “Right, and what is everyone associating you with right now?”

“Mingyu,” you whispered, looking down at your feet. Your brother stood up, slid the glass in his hands onto a counter and held open his arms. “I don’t wanna be a WAG.” Your voice shook and he nodded, wrapping his arms around you as you walked into them, grabbing onto his t-shirt.

“I know you don’t,” he said, rubbing his hands in circles on your back. “That’s why I want you to talk to me about these things. We can fix this, surely his eight million followers won’t care one bit.” Breathing into his shoulder you swallowed the urge to cry and remembered your own follower count from peeking at it in the hallway. You were just over a million. Plenty of people who so wouldn’t care about your relationship, not even a little bit. You could feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. Either it was Mingyu or more headlines going berserk. “You’re more than this, Isla, I want you to know that. You don’t need him to complete you. You’re already whole, and you’re so full of love, I just don’t think you know where to put it.”

“I loved him,” you muttered into his shoulder.

DK’s hands came to a stop. “What’d you say?”

Lifting your chin, a stray tear slipping down your left cheek, you whispered, “I loved him.”

“He’s your boyfriend, I assumed you did, otherwise-”

“Vernon.” Your voice trembled. DK’s brows plummeted. “I loved Vernon.”

“Oh,” he breathed, taking his hands to your shoulders where he adjusted your shirt and smoothed your hair. “Loved?” His head cocked to the side. “As in… past tense? When did you…” He blinked, looking at you. “What?”

“Where’d you get him from, Deeks?”

He brushed the tear from your cheek and the thoughts clicked all at once. “Nasara Uni… Oh.”

Rolling your eyes you half laughed. “Oh.”

Bright white light poured onto the field of green, the grass in prime fabulous shape in the September weather. Wrapping your arms around yourself, trekking up the hill toward the diamond, you tugged at the sleeves of the grey zip up you swam in in an attempt to keep yourself warm in the night air. Having left your phone behind in your bedroom on the second floor of the ITZ house tucked beneath your pillow beside four unopened shooters Yeji gave to you that morning, you decided to take Vernon up on his invitation to come to his practice, again.

He’s really only brought it up once. Ages ago. He no longer had to ask, you just appeared.

The baby pink cushioned Adidas slides on your feet brought your heavy bones and aching joints up the pavement and over the stretch of grass, dropping you off at the fence of the outfield. For a Monday night after nine the field was empty, except for him and his coach. The two were placed strategically on the bases, Vernon at first and his coach at home. A baseball thrown back and forth while they spoke smacked into their gloves, the leather hit by an eighty mile per hour force, the sound echoing in the still air.

Leaning over the fence on your arms, resting your chin on the sleeves usually worn by the boy on the field, you watched him perfect each throw, shift his body around, then do it all over again. From behind first, to the left of the base, toward the right. He’d run backward, eyes on the ball in the sky as his coach popped it up and studied his stance as he barreled back. That one he almost missed, having to dive behind himself, landing on one foot as he spun around and whirled the ball back to home plate laughing at himself. He glanced your way while he caught his breath, walking in a small circle to try to rest for a moment.

Lifting a hand to give him a wave, he held his glove in the air and smiled before he jogged over to his coach, a tall bronze skinned man with a crew cut. He glanced to you momentarily, the buff man in all black, then the two exchanged words and Vernon turned toward the bench and waved you over.

It hadn’t been a good day. It actually hadn’t been a good month, and you wanted to pack it all away, drown it out somehow, but when you met through the fence, chain link separating you, he pressed his nose to it and scrunched his brows together. He was sweaty, his brown curls stuck to his forehead and his neck. Pink lived in his cheeks, cascading across his nose below his watery eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice hoarse, tired. It tickled your skin.

Hooking your fingers into the wirey squares on the fence, you ignored his question. “How long have you been out here?”

“Almost three hours, why?” Each breath rolled through him like his subconscious was the very thing keeping him alive, standing on his feet. Glaring at his coach who messed with some of the equipment on the field, you audibly sighed. “It’s fine, I want to be here.”

“It’s not,” you whispered, looking up at him. Shadows of the metal between you danced over both your skin, the two of you pressing yourselves against it the longer you stood here. “You were out here all weekend, V, you said you weren’t doing this today.”

He pulled his lips between his teeth, his big eyes squinting at you. “This is the only time I get to see you now.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, glancing between your bodies and the fence separating you. “Yeji doesn’t make exceptions. She won’t take money, she’s only comfy handing it out, I guess.”

Vernon huffed a laugh, his eyes closing for a second. “Have you said anything to anyone yet? Ryujin? Tori?”

“How am I supposed to do that?” you whispered, looking up at him. Catching onto the tired in your eyes, the weight in your bones, the stress in your tone, Vernon shoved a hand through the metal wire and slid it below your chin, making sure you kept your eyes on him.

“What’d she put there now?” he asked, his voice hushed. The way your brows crinkled and your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to shake your head was answer enough. “She’s a bitch, Iya.”

“It works,” your voice wanted to crack, “She knows what to do, and it works. I know what she’s doing and I can’t do anything to stop it.” Lips trembling, Vernon drug his thumb along the bottom.

“You can,” he said. “I know you can.” Taking your hands around his, holding onto his calloused fingers with yours, you rested your lips to his knuckles and listened to him say things you didn’t find true in the slightest. “You’re bigger than what she’s doing to you, you have more power than she’ll ever have, that’s why she’s doing this kind of shit. You didn’t do it today, right?” You nodded. “Right, see?”

“I feel like shit,” you mumbled, and he leaned his head all around.

“Yeah, well, you’d feel worse if you drank.”

“It makes it all go away,” you whispered. “Nothing matters, I don’t care about anything, I don’t care about my life, all the shit…”

Vernon shifted on his feet, tightening his fingers around your hands. “What about me?” You met his eyes, his monotonous steady gaze not giving a single thing away that might be living his head. His feelings showed everywhere else, when it was just the two of you, when he was sharing a moment with you, but not when there were watchful eyes. Not when he was asking you questions and didn’t want his expression to persuade you one way or another. It was too good, his poker face, and it drove you crazy.

Knowing that the obnoxious laughter, the silly faces, the random thought bubbles, the occasional seventeen second dance party when a song was stuck in his head and he sang it aloud, it was all for you. Just for you. Otherwise, no one knew what went on in his mind, his brain that thought too many thoughts at once. Thoughts you’d hear at three o’clock in the morning over the phone or in your ear over the blasting music on a couch in a dimly lit room.

You knew things about him no one else did, not even his mom or his best friend he grew up with back at home, and he knew things about you, things you’ve shared with no one. What it was like to grow up with the brother you had, the grief you felt for resenting it all, how you longed to be more than just his little sister. Vernon wanted to make it to the big leagues, but he was terrified. Living a small town life his only experience outside of his tiny world was Nasara itself, and even then, so far he’s only had two years of this taste of life. He worried for his mom home alone, he worried for his future and what would happen if he never got the call, if he never made it up. The MLB was plan A, it was plan B, plan C, plan D, and so on. He had to make it. For himself, and for her.

“You’re…” Pausing, you shook his hand a bit and nodded in tiny. “You’re… good.”

A smirk found his lips. “I’m good.”

“Yeah,” you smiled at him, trying to hide it. “I guess.”

His eyebrows shot up on his forehead, his curls still stuck there. “Oh, you guess?”

The smallest laugh came out of you, easing his heart. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Hansol?” the coach called from across the field, the muscle man now standing on the pitcher's mound.

Squeezing his eyes shut, cringing at the name, making you laugh all over again, Vernon smiled at you and took a deep breath. “Quick,” he whispered, wiggling his fingers around, “You’re freakishly strong, crush every bone in my hand, please, I beg of you.” He spoke frantically, bouncing on his knees a few times.

With wide eyes you held onto his fingers and pressed your lips to them behind a smile. “Oh, yeah, sure, you want to be here, okay.”

A sneaky laugh, one low in chest, filled the air between you. “I do, lemme go, come sit behind home, I have to bat for a little and then I’m free. Come be the best heckler you can be.”

“She’s not even listening to me,” Mingyu said, the entire end of the table you sat at erupting with laughter. Hoshi, with an arm slung around Daya, leaned toward your boyfriend and shoved his shoulder, the man barely budging.

The restaurant, one that served tiny steaks and expensive margaritas, was entirely too dark. Everyone was engulfed in shadows, the hot hazy air simply adding to the suffocating tightness of the deep brown walls and the crowded tables. Most of the space was occupied by the Lions out for a team dinner to kick off the first day of spring training. At a long table stretching along the back of the restaurant sat the starting line up, the stars and their lovers, if they had them.

DK, Woozi and his girlfriend, Melody, Seungkwan, and Joshua, the Lions center fielder, they all took up one end of the table that bled down into Seungcheol and Talia across from Jun and Jihyo, which trickled into Minghao and Halle, Daya and Hoshi, and you and Mingyu.

Vernon sat at the bar at the moment with two other players. He’d been sitting there for about ten minutes sipping on a drink you couldn’t identify. The glass he held was short, wide, grown up. Dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, some things never change, a silver chain hung around his neck, one he never takes off. His hair had been washed, the curls fresh and alive, bouncing when he smiled and spoke to the men he sat with.

He arrived after you, walking in with the other shortstop and second basemen, finding comfort in them you hoped. Anxiety ate you up from the inside out once you were seated at the table. As much as you wanted him to sit here, wanted to see him, wanted to speak to him, you couldn’t stomach it. So you opted for the next best thing. Sitting in the corner with Mingyu and your friends, his friends, against the wall so you could keep tabs on him throughout the night.

Moving from the other table across the room some of the other players took up, he found this spot at the bar and now that everyone was on their second or third glass, the conversations flowed with ease, Vernon seemingly able to talk with all of them like he’s known them for ages.

Of course he’d be able to do that.

He’s here to play baseball, with them, this team, he’s talking to his teammates. Why would that be hard?

Conversation moved around you. Daya and Halle giggled along as the boys spoke, Mingyu’s voice taking up most of the time, most of the air, probably why it was so hot in here. Not a word computed in your brain. The girls laughed, the boys discussed whatever it was they were into at the moment, and you stared at Vernon.

He leaned against the bar with ease. He spoke to people with patience. He smiled at the bartender and said please and thank you, you know he did, he didn’t demand things unlike Mingyu who held his finger up at the waiter and pointed to his empty glass without missing a beat in the chatter.

“She’s in dreamland,” Halle said, pulling you from your thoughts, making you twist in your seat to face them all. “Hi, princess, welcome back.”

“You okay?” Mingyu asked with a smile, brushing his hand over your bare shoulder. In a strappy tank and denim mini skirt, with how hot the air was you wished you were naked. Your hair was twisted back into a bun on the back of your head, strategically messy, soft strands falling down to hang with the hoops in your ears.

“Don’t tell me you’re still hungover, Isla,” Daya rolled her eyes, her chin in her hand. Pointing her gaze at your half empty drink she smiled. “Finish it,” she said, then elbowed Hoshi in the chest.

Mingyu grabbed your glass and sat back in his chair with a flash of his smile toward Daya, the two laughing together. Handing it to you, he said, “Come on,” his voice low, just for you, “They wanna go to Cheers after this, start now, that way you feel good when we get there.”

Wrapping your fingers around the cold glass full of ice and a pink tinted liquid, barely remembering what you ordered to drink, something with cute lemonade or something, you put the straw between your lips and sucked it down, your eyes wandering back over to Vernon at the bar.

“What’s Cheers?” you asked.

Mingyu snickered. “One of the bars we went to last night, you don’t remember it?” You shot him a glare. “That’s okay, baby. You’ll get to see it again, we’ll have fun.”

“There you go, party girl,” Daya cheered when your straw pulled air. Her eyes were sharp. “Another? I’ll get the server.”

Mingyu cocked his chin toward her. “Another.”

Setting the glass down on the table, the attention left you, finally, and the conversation turned back to the practice they had today and what they’d have to endure tomorrow after a night of drinking. Shifting in your chair, the hot air pressing against you now that you weren’t holding onto a glass full of ice, you peeled your thighs apart and sighed. Glancing around the table, everyones tipsy expressions accented by the flickering light of the candles on the table, not one of them paying attention to you, you decided to focus back on Vernon. But, he was gone.

The bar had gone vacant, no one but the bartender behind it polishing glasses or straightening bottles of liquor. Every murmur of every voice in the room invaded your ears, you couldn’t get a clear thought across. He must’ve gotten up while you were finishing your drink, or trying to talk to the people you were sitting with. Each breath you took was the least bit refreshing, the stuffy air clogging your chest instead of clearing it of the weight you didn’t notice before.

Placing a hand to your chest, over your heart, between your ribs, you tried another and found that it made your fingers tremble. Darting your eyes around for the server, for your next drink, he wasn’t anywhere in sight. That would take this away, it’d solve everything like it had been for the last year. You’d be comfortable enough to sit here, you wouldn’t feel this pull on your heart, you could latch onto Mingyu, and you wouldn’t think about Vernon.

Vernon who hasn’t looked at you since the baseball field this afternoon. Vernon who hasn’t tried to talk to you. Vernon who seemed to be ignoring every move you made, if he was putting in that much effort, if he even cared anymore, for god sake you put on his favorite skirt, one that you knew drove him insane.

You could feel eyes on you from tables around you. Sitting around with a bunch of superstars you didn’t expect any less. The story of you and Mingyu broke earlier today, of course people were going to look at the way he touched you, the way you spoke to each other, the way you sat frozen in your chair while he laughed with his friends and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt so his golden skin could peek out and Daya could stare at it.

Pictures had to have been taken. People liked to do that. Sitting here around a table with friends and in your case family, outsiders, whether they be fans or strangers interested in your drama instead of their own, they liked to take photos, they felt the need to snap sneaky pictures of your private moments and post them online. For clout, for reposts, for attention, you weren’t sure. Boundaries were broken. DK had stories on stories to tell of what it was like having your most private moments taken from you to be shared with the world. Like you weren’t worthy of a moment's peace, even ten minutes to yourself. Someone had to call out your name, someone had to take a photo, someone had to prove to the people in their life that they spotted you, spotted Mingyu, spotted your brother… And for what?

You were having an internal panic attack in the middle of this restaurant and nobody cared. The photos were taken, the whispers were shared. With each turnover of the tables came even more. You weren’t a person, you were a landmark. They didn’t care that you couldn’t feel your fingers, that you longed for privacy, to eat a normal dinner out for just once in your life.

“Isla.” Mingyu slid a hand over your thigh and squeezed it. Bad move. Swatting him away, you pushed your chair backward and glared at him and his wide eyes. A round of quiet ‘Ooh’s’ circled your end of the table. You could’ve screamed, but the tears found your eyes first. “Are you okay? I just wanted to-”

Not waiting around for him to finish his lament, you left the table behind and hurried around the restaurant for the bathroom, not giving anyone the time of day on your way there. Tables whispered about you, eyes watched you, both judging and excitedly. You could see the timeline now, the social media feeds. People were posting about where you were, because they always did. Once they realized your brother and your boyfriend were here too they’d post again, or vice versa.

Heavy wooden doors side by side marked with signs determining which bathroom you belonged to pulled you into the one on the right. The bright white light blinded you, but the air calmed every sense in your body, cooling you down, grounding you.

Pulling your phone from your back pocket you opened up your messages and scrolled. It made you sick, the length in which you had to scroll to find the thread. With a twinge between your lungs and lurch of your gut, you typed.

[you]: I don’t know what to do please don’t hate me

It took several seconds to build up the courage to send the message.

Then, it rang in an instant. The name at the top eases you into a comforting deep breath.

“Hello?” You answered with your voice shaking, your volume low, not knowing what to expect from the other line.

“Jagiya?!” Her voice, loud and cracking, made you laugh breathlessly. “Moon Isla?” Are you being held captive against your will? I’ve tried contacting you for months and this is how you come back to me?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“NO!” Her shout startled you. “Don’t apologize to me, or, you know what, yes, apologize to me, but also, what the fuck?!”

“Ryujin,” you started, steadying your breath, “I should’ve talked to you. I’m sorry. It’s just… So much happened so fast, and then I was pissed off over Nasara and Yeji, and DK didn’t want me involved with it anymore so we kinda cut it all out.”

“Isla,” Ryujin said quietly. “Yeji got expelled.”

Chills ran over your skin. “What? They did it? Who did it? Did they find out?”

“Did who find out what?”

“Nevermind, tell me everything.”

And she did. She let you know that about a week and a half after you disappeared Yeji was expelled, her grand scheme to become ITZ’s best president had been found out, her reign of terror over the girls in the house, specifically Aurora, was all finally over. One of the girls you called your closest friend, she was president now, Aurora was president. Two semesters ago, while you and your sisters daydreamed over the new house members and what roles would be assigned to who, you all wished the new president would be Aurora.

“So, if I did end up deciding to come back I would’ve been under Aurora and not Yeji,” you said.

“Right,” Ryujin answered. “Isla we talk about you everyday, I hope you know you’re missed.”

For two years the girls at ITZ were all you had. Hearing that they still talk about you, keep you alive in a house that attempted to bring you some sort of peace, it melted your heart as much as it made it ache. Not seeing Ryujin for as long as you haven’t seen Vernon, it hurts. She was your best friend, your roommate, your safeplace, your sexuality exploration teacher. Where Vernon couldn’t fill in the blanks, Ryujin could, and she would. She had your back, and now, standing here on the phone with her after months of not speaking, you knew she always would.

“I’m not coming back,” you said, and she sighed, already knowing that answer. “I think I really need DK right now.”

“Understood,” she said. The door to the bathroom swung open and a girl around your age with a ponytail wandered inside. She knew who you were, she did a shitty job at hiding it. “You could come visit though.”

“You could come visit too,” you said, turning to face the mirrors over the sink. “D- My brother said you guys could all come out, when we’re back home maybe, he’s actually mentioned it a lot. I think he, uh, yeah, he wants to meet you all.”

“I’d love that.” You could hear her smile. “We’d love that, seriously. I think we plan on coming up to Iloa sooner than later anyway, sometime in like… A month or so, I think, Aurora and Tori they said they have…”

“Tickets to Vernon’s opening day game?” Finishing the thought for her, the way she sighed and groaned had you shaking your head. “Happening in a month and a week at the Lions stadium in Iloa? Yeah, I’ll be there too, go figure.” She started to speak but you cut her off. “Hey, by the way, did you know that he hates my guts? Did you know that he won’t even look at me? Did you know that he was even here? With us? Playing on my brother's team? Of course you all know that, I’m the stupid one who wanted to take time to heal, and look where that got me. I have no friends, I hate my boyfriend, and the one I want hates me.”

A toilet flushed from one of the stalls. Your heart lodged up into your throat. The bathroom wasn’t huge, it was quite small. The girl heard every word you said.

“Isla,” Ryujin sighed heavily. You could see the way she moved just now, rubbing a hand along her chin with her lips parted and her brows pulled together. “Listen, I can’t say anything to make you feel better about it, I mean, you broke his heart, what do you-”

The stall unlocked and all of the panic you felt from before settled back into you. “Rio, I gotta go,” you breathed hurriedly and hung up on her, fleeing from the bathroom as fast as you humanly could, as fast as the heavy wooden doors would allow you to.

Maybe she’d keep her mouth shut, the girl in the bathroom.

Or, maybe she’d be like all the others and your relationship would be over in world record time.

Either way, you wanted it all to be gone. A drink would be waiting at your table, you’d go to the bar after Mingyu and his friends were ready, and it would all be gone.

Stepping into the dark restaurant, eyes adjusting to the very low yellow light, in the corridor of the bathroom the universe kicked you in the ass, spit on your shoes and laughed in your face.

Vernon stepped out of the mens room at the same exact time, the two of you bumping right into one another as you both seemed to want to hurry back to your respective groups waiting for you.

“Whoa,” he said with the start of a smile, but it wiped away when he realized it was you. You were speechless. You didn’t think you’d ever be so close to him again. “Sorry,” he mumbled with a small nod, then turned away.

“Vernon!” You called after him without your own brain's permission, his name slipping out of your lips feeling illegal.

He half turned around, looked right at you and waved his hand. “No.”

You begged your feet not to follow him. They did anyway. “V, wait, please.” He didn’t say anything, he kept his focus forward with his hands in his pockets. “Can we talk, I need to talk to you, I can explain-”

He turned around stoic as ever, you almost bumped into his chest. His gaze dropped down your figure once. “I spent so much time wondering if you were going to be here.” Hanging onto every word you searched his eyes for hints, for feelings, for anything, but he gave you nothing. “I knew you were with DK, this whole time, of course you were going to be here. I had so much to say to you. Did you even read any of the messages I sent you at the end of last year?” He paused, he waited, and he got the answer he wanted. “Didn’t think so. The rumors started with him and I knew to stop trying.” He started to walk through the restaurant again. You stopped him before he got out to the busier side.

“Wait, I did read them,” you said, nodding your head fast. No change in his expression. “I read them, and I wanted to talk to you, but I just, I…”

“You what?” He shook his head. “You came home to the guy you liked since you were sixteen?”

“No! I just-”

“Save it, I’ve read the stories, Isla.”

Lifting your hands you wanted to grab onto him, wanted to cling to his shoulders and fall to the ground and beg. He watched the thought process in real time, looking down to your hands, watching how your fingers clenched into fists before you crossed them across your chest.

“That’s not it, Vernon, it’s not.” Within a breath you sighed and fluttered your eyes shut.

“I loved you,” he said quietly, and your eyes shot open.

“Loved?” you whispered, “As in… past tense?”

He shook his head and waved his hand again, letting his eyes draw over you once more before he turned around, but not before he said, “Just, please, don’t waste your breath.”

home;run masterlist | talk to me | ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

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abiiors · 1 year ago

Text

so you're tired 🥀 // ross macdonald x reader

in which he doesn't exactly cheat but it hurts just the same a/n: this is loosely based on so you're tired by sufjan stevens, one of my fav songs atm!!! (can't wait for javelin) cw: very brief mentions of smut, arguments and yelling because well, this is just angst :( wc: 2k

the first time you fight—seriously fight—you don’t talk to him for three days.

it’s the longest either of you have gone without talking to each other. he’s barely home for two more weeks before tour starts again and yet here you are, waking up to a cold bed every single day and roaming around like ghosts in a cold house. three days where you don’t come home to him humming softly in your kitchen while cooking you your favourite meals. three days of utter silence before one of you cracks.

towards the end of it, none of you remember what the fight was about, only that you feel a hollow ache in your chest every night you don’t go to sleep cuddled up in his arms. you don’t remember who cracks first—all you remember are whispered apologies on each other’s skin and kisses that taste of tears.

“i am wasting precious time with you,” he says, his face buried deep in the crook of your neck, holding you so close as if you might slip away from right between his fingers.

“let’s forget about it, love,” you stroke his head, “let’s just move on. we have time…”

and it’s true isn’t it? you have all the time in the world. so what if he’s going away again? he will come home to you eventually…

so you smile and melt into his kiss. the next few days pass in a flurry of half-hearted joy and trepidation but ross is there, hugging you unexpectedly and playing with your hair till you fall asleep. ross is there to waltz you around the kitchen and make you your favourite meals. and the fight seems long forgotten, all the feelings of anxiety and lonliness burried deep down…

until they bubble up the night before he has to leave.

“you always promise,” his voice rises with each word, “it’s always the same. and i always believe you like a fucking idiot.” he’s back on the same topic again, yelling about the same things you were two weeks ago but this conversation is going nowhere.

“jesus christ, ross! i have a job you know!” you yell back, watching his face grow angrier. “can’t just drop everything and come travel the world with you.”

“you’re acting like i am asking you to run away with me!”

“that’s exactly—”

“no it’s not! stop putting words in my mouth,” he finally snaps, breathing heavily while standing in the midst of clothes strewn on the ground. a half-full suitcase sits by his feet with its maw wide open. “i told you, no. i asked you months ago if you would take some time off to come with me. fuck i was even fine if you brought work with you—”

“and it’s just not possible—”

“it’s never fucking possible!” he yells. “you never know how much i fucking miss you when i am gone.”

you defensively cross your arms in front of your chest, shivering slightly against the chill in the room. it’s been so rainy and gloomy all day, ironically the perfect ambiance for your fight that just seems so final.

“ross, you’re acting like i don’t miss you at all!” “no…” he speaks quietly. you stand there like a statue, watching him gather his things and stuff them in the suitcase. when he zips it shut, it might as well be the loudest sound in the world. “you’re the one acting like that.”

and with that ross is gone, sidestepping you so easily that you might as well have not existed at all. just a ghost in your room, staring at the floor where his things were just moments ago, now all that remains is the echo of the door slamming shut behind him.

you don’t know where ross goes that night. maybe over to matty’s or directly at the airport to spend the night sleeping on the bench.

maybe he thinks it’s better to spend the night cold and uncomfortable and alone than to share the warm bed with you.

maybe he thinks he’s better off alone entirely.

you don’t try to call him. you just curl up on the bed, on his side of it, and let your sobs put you to sleep.

blink and three more days go by. another three days of not talking, of radio silence. in that time, all the updates you get about him are concert photos and fan edits. he looks sad in them, quiet and reserved, yet they don’t know him as well as you do. they just think he’s tired from the jetlag. a good night’s sleep will fix everything for him.

they don’t know that a good night’s sleep comes only when he’s with you.

this time it’s you who cracks first, calling him practically in the middle of the night with a thudding heart. on the brink of a panic attack.

his voice is sleep-filled and his eyes bleary. you feel bad for calling him like this but he asks you to stay, asks you if you can talk.

“i overreacted,” he sighs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “i shouldn’t have…”

“no, ross. i should apologise, you weren’t… you weren’t wrong.”

his face perks up at those words. and your heart sinks deeper into your stomach. so, like a heartless bitch, you give him momentary hope and soothe him with sweet words until he asks the inevitable question.

“so… are you coming?”

things can only go downhill from there and all you can do is scrunch your eyes shut let a few tears of regret roll down your cheeks.

you’re certain this fight is worse than the last one. at least, the last time he was physically here. a tangible presence. now it’s just you, alone in your room with your sharp voice echoing all around you. drowning you in shame.

this time when he argues, he’s eerily calm, not a single emotion in his voice or in his eyes and that’s how you know it’s really the end.

that’s how you know his goodbye is final.

when the “we are done” text pings on your phone at 2:15 am, you sob so hard you almost get sick on your bedroom carpet, only managing to run to the toilet at the last minute.

you sob so hard that the warmth zaps right out of you and into the bathroom floor which remains just as ice cold the entire night you spend shivering on it.

by the time morning comes, there are no more tears left. no more sobs or wails.

all that’s left is a feeling of unending emptiness.

everyone seems to have an opinion about the break up. some tell you he’s childish, a man child to not accept the fact that this is how adult relationships work. that people are busy. some go as far as to declare him the latest perpetrator of toxic masculinity—these people you ignore entirely. but there are some who sow a small seed of doubt in you—you fucked up. ultimately it’s george who knocks some sense into you with one simple text.

he’s miserable.

and before you know it, you’re texting your clients and letting them know you’ll be out of office for the foreseeable future. like a possessed person you’re on your laptop hunting for the quickest flights to paris.

it’s the city of love and light. it should fix what’s broken. and you’re more than willing to grovel. to beg him for just one more chance.

“will you please pick me up?” you text george as a last desperate attempt, practically jumping with joy when he says yes and asks you for your flight details.

he tells you he’ll take care of the hotel room, of anything else you might need. all you need to worry about it being there and fixing what’s broken. he tells you there’s still hope. and like a fool you believe him wholeheartedly.

it’s almost a day later that you stand in front of his hotel room on shaky legs, staring at the non-descript door with blurred eyes. you’re thankful for george’s hand lightly resting on your shoulder—there’s at least some moral support there.

he doesn’t urge you to knock, he just stands there with you, staring at the brown door for as long as you might need to build up courage.

you close your eyes and dream of the after.

sure it will a confrontation at first. he’s going to be angry and hurt but you can change that. more importantly you can make him believe that you can change. so you let yourself dream of what comes after. of how you might spend days after cooped up in the room, tasting each other’s skin and reeking of sex.

it won’t matter though. you would spend hours with your limbs tangled up, laughing at silly stories you’ve told each other a million times before and eating ridiculously expensive macaroons.

the thought makes you laugh sharply, just once before you cover it up with a slight cough and look at george.

“right… right i think i’m ready…”

he nods and steps back, keeping a respectful distance, still there to be with you just in case.

so you knock, toeing the carpet and trying not to strain your ears to hear any signs of life inside. maybe you’ve come at the wrong time… maybe he’s in the shower or asleep and you’re just doing one more thing wrong. maybe he’s not even in his room, preferring to be somewhere instead. it is paris after all…

but the lock clicks and with it your heart stops beating. george takes another step back, rooting for a happy, cuddly reunion you hope.

and then the door swings open and your heart is in your throat as soon as you see him. ross… your ross, he’s there. sure, he looks a bit tired and disheveled and sure he’s just answered the door shirtless but you couldn’t care less.

“ros—”

“ross?” it’s another voice. it’s not yours and yet it’s a female voice, lilting and high-pitched and snagging on the r, saying his name. a voice that comes from inside his room.

and then there she is, peeking out from behind him. it’s unmistakable that she only has a bedsheet clutched around her, hair escaping her bun and falling onto her bare shoulders.

you stand there like a fucking statue once again, looking from her to him and back at her confused face. she’s everything you’re not—perfect and waiflike and god so stunning it hurts to look at her.

or perhaps the hurt comes from the feeling of someone squeezing your heart so tight that you stumble back, practically knocking into george whose existence you’d forgotten in those last thirty seconds.

“love—”

“no,” you whisper, already half turned around, bags in tow.

ross reaches forward, his face crumpling into one of guilt, pain and worry. his throat bobs, eyes quickly tinging with red.

he tries to speak but nothing comes out.

or maybe he does speak and you hear nothing at all because you’re so busy sprinting out of there and out of the hotel entirely and onto the unknown streets of paris.

the eiffel tower stands proud—a romantic backdrop to all the cuddly couples taking photos in front of it, kissing each other and laughing their hearts out. you run away, back to wherever that will take you farthest away from here.

wherever that will take you so so far away from his version of after that you would never even remember it again—remember him again, rather. the crinkles around his eyes and his dimples. the feel of his beautiful hair between your fingers. his voice and his laugh and his humming.

all you can do is seethe with laughter so hard that a sob lodges itself in your throat, chokes and suffocates you thoroughly.

there’s no after that you so desperately dreamed of. this is the only one you get.

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername @celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon

add yourself to the taglist

#the 1975 #ross macdonald #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald x you #ross x reader #ross x you #ross macdonald angst #the 1975 angst #matty healy #george daniel #adam hann #angst writing #minors do not interact

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ask-st-ccchoir · 8 months ago

Text

Lets change it up a bit.

🌊what?

System Reset In

🌊hi! We're the saint cau-

🌹your voice is irritating, let someone else speak.

🌊shut up!

🌹you shut up you-

Meet, Ocean O'Connell Rosenberg🌊

🌊hey!!

🌹gee..

🌊HA HOWS IT FEEL TO BE INTERRUPTED

🍬guys can you relax?

Meet Constance Blackwood🍬!

🍬oh! Uh, hi!!

🌹fine we'll relax if SHE shut up.

🌊well you started! You should zip your mouth once and a wh-

Meet Noel Gruber🌹

🌹Bonjour!

🌊-ile..

🌹HAH

Meet Jane doe..🐑

🐑hi!!!

💵FINALLY WI-FI.. SHIT I CANT TEXT TALIA.

sigh.. Meet Mischa Bachinski!💵

💵yo.

🌌that sucks...

And finally, Meet Richard "Ricky" Potts.🌌

🌌sup!

And i am the amazing karnak. This rat over here is Virgil.

🐭squeak! i can speak!

🏹ehem,,

Ah, yes.

Meet, Astrid Rosenberg.🏹

🏹hey!

🌊get away from me

🏹nuh uh

🔥gingers are hella annoying.

Meet, Cory Ross.🔥

🔥wsg

🏹what the hell did you say?

🔥nothing, jeez.

💘chill babe.

Meet, Hank ____💘

💘hello!

🏹okayy..

🐞you got a fly on you

🏹AH

And last but not least, Trishna ____🐞

🐞hii!

Have fun children, and don't

Forget to ride the cyclone.

//Admin/Jay here!! Hi! Hello! New start for this blog, i appreciate the support you guys gave throughout april and i hope you'll like this new beginning of it. But lets not make this long><//

Ships:

💵PassionFruit🌹

🌊PerfectDolls🐑

💘LoveBite🏹

Ship teases(teases but will not be end game):

Corey x Noel

Mischa x Ricky(sorry guys😞)

#rtc musical #askthestccchoir #ask ccchoir #ride the cyclone #the start of a new beginning><

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ryxnsx · 15 days ago

Text

Ross x Zip reuqest by buddy @ross-theartist

#fpe #art #fpe art #sillyposting #doodle #fpe ocs #ryxnsx #my art <3 #not my ocs #request

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planetkiimchi · 1 year ago

Text

the strings of fate | l.mk

no. 5 of my song collection (requested!)

featuring: mark lee x gn!reader, chenle

word count: 7351

warnings: arson, fire, burning, people die in the fire, death (funeral), rooftops (?) if you're scared of heights, there's mentions of nudity but not described, swearing, you'll probably hate me for this fic but idc

playlist: anaheim - niki; 10:35 - tate mcrae; psycho - jun; adelaide - johnny orlando; let me go - hailee steinfeld + alesso + florida georgia line + watt; after you - gryffin + jason ross + calle lehmann; haunt you - x lovers + chloe moriondo

summary — when mark lee, student council president of riize highschool goes missing, you’re the first suspect. as his best friend and well-known crush, you stood to gain the most from it. you’re also vice-president, and with mark gone, you’ve stepped up to be the president and predicted valedictorian. all eyes are on you, and one wrong move can send you to your downfall. but who’s that lurking in the shadows, tugging on the puppet-strings of fort irwin? the city is small, but you feel smaller as things go spiralling crazily out of control. OR mark loves you more than anything else in the world, but you're too broken to receive his love.

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

5 months ago — if i could, i’d freeze this moment, make it my home

“Mark?” You peeked into the room, footsteps resounding in the hollow space. Mark had promised to meet you at the auditorium, but he wasn’t there, leaving you stranded in the middle of the school in a dark room with only the dark red seats to keep you company.

As you turned to leave, you heard a muffled sound that sounded suspiciously like someone landing on the carpet floor. You looked behind you just in time to see Mark removing his mask, breathlessly calling after you, still clad in his Spiderman outfit.

“Just as I thought I’d been stood up,” you told him.

“Nope. In fact, I would have been early if someone hadn’t tried to mug me on my way here. It took some time to get changed and wrap him up in spiderwebs before I dropped an anonymous tip to the police station.” As he spoke, Mark reached into his back pockets, which were luxuriously deep and could seemingly fit as many things as Doraemon’s bag.

“I brought you the book you said you wanted,” Mark said as he pressed it into your hands. His smile was contagious, and you couldn’t fault him for having a heart of gold. It wasn’t his fault that he wanted to make things right, so you forgave him for it.

“Aren’t you gonna get changed?”

He blushed and made some vague motions with his hands before settling on, “Yeah. If you could just- turn around?”

You turned around swiftly, lips pressed together as you tried to ignore the hot blush spreading across your cheeks. You fiddled with the book in your hands, the thumping of your heart making it difficult for you to hear when Mark told you he was done.

He gave you a thumbs-up, and you saw his mask hanging out from the open pocket of his bag. You walked over to him, tucking the mask inside and zipping the pocket up before reaching up, tiptoeing slightly to reach his head, and smoothed out his hair.

He shook his head slightly and wiped the sweat off his brow with a grin. “Better?”

“Better.”

“Since we’re already here, why don't we take advantage of the projector and watch a movie?”

You hesitated, shifting your weight from one foot to another. “I’m a little busy,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck as you thought about the countless assignments you had piling up.

Mark smiled disarmingly and extended his hand, shooting webs from his wrist. They reached the control room, hitting the “on” button. The screen blinked on, showing the default screensaver. “I didn’t mean it as a question, more like an invitation. I know you’re still not over Chenle, so I thought this might cheer you up.”

You were given little choice when Mark slipped into one of the back seats, procuring popcorn from his bag like a magician, patting the seat beside him as he projected his Netflix account onto the screen, and “Little Women” started playing. You couldn’t lie, you had a soft spot for that movie, and seeing it playing was all it took for you to cave in and slump into the seat next to him, dispelling all thoughts of work from your mind.

“Are you supposed to be using your student council pass to get access to the auditorium for a movie?” You asked curiously, reaching for the popcorn.

Mark passed you the box with a dismissive shrug. “If they didn’t want me to take advantage of it, they wouldn’t have given it to me. Perks of being liked by the teachers, I guess.”

That was Mark Lee for you. Handsome, smart, popular—well-liked by both the student body and the faculty. He was perfection in a nutshell, and his heart was yours. You only regretted never being able to give him the same.

3 months ago — you’re all i want to, want to know

Dangling your feet off the rooftops, breeze soft against your skin as you watched the sunset. Yellow waves of light washed over the red sky, turning it gorgeous shades of orange and pink and purple, if you squinted hard enough.

The sky was a vast expanse of intangible matter, the whispers of the wind calling out to you. Instinctively, you reached out for it, hands grasping at thin air. It felt like it was just out of your reach, and you leaned further, hands outstretched…

You forgot that you were on the rooftop, stomach rising to your throat as you fell from the building, scream caught in your throat which was squeezed so tightly you could barely breathe.

Every second of the fall was torture. You could feel the air rushing past your face, hard enough to chafe but not dense enough to cushion your fall. Your hands flailed about, scrabbling for something to hold onto, desperately searching for holds to grab onto, until you felt a tug on your back.

Mark lowered himself to your height, and you found yourself swinging like a pendulum from the top of the building while Mark leaned into his pants like he was going rock climbing with his friends for leisure, fully trusting his webs to hold him up.

“You good?”

You nodded, gulping nervously. Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down…

Mark seemed to sense your fear, one hand wrapping around your waist reassuringly. The concrete touch of his arm against your back calmed you, and you inhaled deeply while staring straight into his eyes, refusing to look down for fear of how high up you were.

“You know, if you wanted to swing around town, you could’ve just asked.”

Your face dropped as you glared at him, your grip around his torso never loosening even for a second. “Ha ha, very funny. Please bring me back up before I throw up.”

“My pleasure.” Both of you shot up suddenly, and you almost collapsed in relief when your feet found hard ground again, but you made sure to move far, far away from the edge that time.

“I think I’m happy just staying here,” you said cautiously from the middle of the roof, as far away from all the sides of the building as possible. You knelt down to feel the ground, afraid that it wasn’t sturdy enough, before falling into a cross-legged position with a grunt.

Mark bent down to sit beside you, guiding your head onto his shoulder as he rubbed your back comfortingly. “I know it’s scary, but hey, the sunset’s worth it.”

Its beauty was almost comparable to Mark’s.

2 weeks ago — i can tell you mean it when you kiss me slow

Your hand tightened in Mark’s as he ran gleefully towards the ferris wheel, dragging you along behind him as he stood in line for the ride.

Autumn was all around you, in the air as auburn leaves drifted past on a breeze, gently gusting over your hair and leaving you feeling chilly but not cold. The crunch of your footsteps against the ground, the smell of apples all around, the earth heralded the third season of the year.

Mark’s figure was stark against the rest, dressed in all black against the neutral tones of fall, taller than everyone else. Mark was your rock, and sometimes he seemed a little larger than life.

The queue moved slowly, but Mark kept you entertained with silly jokes while it inched forward, and you found yourself lost in the sound of his laughter. It sounded muffled to your ears, like you were hearing it while you were submerged underwater. How could you bring yourself to hurt someone like him?

Your knuckles whitened as they gripped the side of the carriage tightly when you boarded the ferris wheel, eyes staring straight ahead—anywhere but down—while you fought to calm your racing heart.

“It’s not too scary if you look at me, right?”

You had to admit that he was right. If you focussed only on Mark, the world disappeared into a blur of white lights and cloudy skies, and the ground felt solid under your feet.

It was a reassuring thought to know that Mark had your back. So when you reached the top of the wheel, sky-high above the rest of the world with no weight on your shoulders, and Mark kissed you, you kissed him back.

You kissed him like your heart didn’t belong to someone else, like you didn’t care if it hurt him. Because you selfishly wanted his heart, even if you could never reciprocate his love for you.

1 day ago — but please don’t ask me, the answer’s no

You woke up in Chenle’s bed, his hands tangled in your hair while you wrapped your arms around him. The blanket was at your feet, having been kicked off in the night. Chenle’s breathing was peaceful, and the steady rise and fall of his chest pulled you out of your trance.

Chenle had done nothing to Mark, yet he had unknowingly hurt him again and again. You kept coming back to him even after you had broken up, slipping into his arms after shitty decisions late at night, clothes strewn over the floor as you willingly hurt yourself again and again.

To Chenle’s knowledge, you were single, and it was true—to a certain extent. You didn’t love Chenle, and he didn’t need to love you either. You had come to a mutual agreement that he would keep you warm on lonely nights, and there would be no questions asked.

In the mornings, you would leave, and there would be no expectations of breakfast or loving words when you woke.

And so, you became a ghost of yourself, hovering in spaces just long enough for you to be seen before vanishing again, never happy or satisfied.

You pried yourself from Chenle’s hands, slipping into your clothes, running your hand through your hair in the mirror before rinsing your mouth and washing your face quickly. You left no traces of yourself behind, save for the guilt-ridden kiss you left on Chenle’s cheek with a sad smile.

Mark didn’t know what had happened when you met him that morning, reaching out to envelope you in a hug when you stiffened, pushing him away with a grimace. “Don’t- I don’t want to do this to you, Mark.”

He raised his hands in surrender, but you could have sworn heard his heart shatter, the pain in his eyes too much for you to bear. You turned towards the school, firmly avoiding his gaze as your lead-filled limbs brought you further and further away from him.

now — in a perfect world, i’d kill to love you the loudest

mark: can we talk? mark: i feel like there's something you're not telling me mark: i'm always here for you, you know mark: even if just as a friend

(i don’t know if that’s enough for you)

The messages he left on your phone burned a hole through your pocket. You didn’t want to answer them, but you didn’t want to ignore him either, so you opted to climb into a cab and asked it to take you to an isolated area just out of town. It was close enough for Mark to go to, but only as Spiderman. If he took any other form of transport, he would arrive too late.

you: 📍live location you: come over you: please

“Y/n?” Mark was in his Spiderman suit, eyes shielded by the mask. You couldn’t decipher any of his mixed emotions, but you saw his fingers twitch slightly before he reached out to touch the fence that separated you, hesitance laced in his voice. He sounded unsure, afraid even.

“Are you okay? What are you doing out here?” You had never heard Mark scared before. To you, he had always been the brave one, the one who walked first in haunted houses and killed insects while you screamed and leaped away. He wasn’t afraid of heights or those he fought against, and he seemed to shrink in front of your eyes when he was afraid.

“Can you come over to this side?”

Mark scaled the fence and dropped silently in front of you, cautiously moving towards you as his hand reached to pull his mask off.

“What’s going on?”

Mark felt somebody grab his hand, pulling him towards them with his face away while they held him in a chokehold. He felt a needle poking into his neck, injecting anesthetic into his bloodstream. He went limp in his captor’s arms, and was gently laid on the ground while his captor reached for their phone and stopped the recording.

“I’m sorry,” they whispered as they anonymously sent the video of an unmasked Spiderman to the news station they could count on to deliver their news the fastest.

but all i do is live to hurt you soundless

Mark came to in a dark room, hands tied behind his back. He tried to move his feet, and found that they were also tied to the legs of the chair. Defeated, he slumped in the chair, breathing heavily as he surveyed the room. It was small and empty, and he was the sole occupant inside it.

Welcome, Mark Lee. I hope you make yourself at home. With that, the speakers crackled and went quiet.

Chills ran down Mark’s spine as he heard the voice playing. Where were you, and why couldn’t he remember anything? His mind was foggy and he couldn’t remember a thing, except for your text. He remembered receiving it, and going to a shady, isolated place….

Could someone have kidnapped you and taken your phone to trick him? The idea of it caused his throat to seize, heart thumping painfully inside his chest.

The clanging sound of a door opening startled Mark, and he strained to see where the door was. He heard metal grating against the floor and the thump of footsteps, coming face to face with a masked silhouette. The white of the mask was a stark contrast to the dark cell, and it was the only thing Mark could make out.

A spoon clattered to the floor as the silhouette knelt down and set a tray of food on the floor, the water in the cup sloshing out at the impact. The silhouette’s voice sounded robotic when it spoke.

“I will untie your hands, and you can reach down to take your food. This will last you until tomorrow, so ensure that you don’t finish it all in one sitting. If you struggle or try to escape, just know that you won’t like the consequences.”

Mark’s hands felt numb, and he winced at the feeling of pins and needles as the blood gratefully rushed to his wrists, and he rubbed at his sore shoulders. He bent down gratefully to take a bowl of rice and meat from the ground, and when he sat up again, the masked person had vanished like a wisp of smoke.

say you see i’m lying, babe, and let this go

Mark was going insane. An entire day of silence was enough to drive a man to the brink of insanity, but Mark was just barely holding on. He had estimated the length and width of his cell, tried to write it down and realised that the best way was to write it in his food; hopped around, trying to stand up, and fell multiple times; and was growing bored.

He counted the seconds it took for him to breathe one full breath, then held his breath for as long as he could, then glanced back down impatiently at the analog clock he had found on his food tray.

If it was telling the right time, then 12 hours had passed since he had first woken up in his cell. He had fallen asleep in his chair during what he hoped was nighttime, but woken up with a crick in his neck that had been irritating him the entire day.

It didn’t feel like daytime, although it was supposed to be past noon, simply because there was no natural light filtering into the cell, and the only way he could see was by the light of the clock’s hands and numbers, and the dim light coming from what he assumed was a corridor outside his cell.

Mark drummed his fingers against his lap and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. He had eaten breakfast when he woke up, then lunch just after noon, but his water was running low and his parched throat itched.

It was odd, he thought, that the food that he had been given actually wasn’t that bad. It was simple, but the meat wasn’t as hard as he had expected, and he had been so hungry that he had scarfed it down in one go.

He was just about to risk hopping over to the door of the cell and yelling for help when the speaker that had scared him the night before suddenly crackled to life.

Fort Irwin is a little small for mysteries, but the latest case of Spiderman had everyone puzzled. Mark Lee, 17, was reported to be missing yesterday evening. According to reports from 35.7Hz Radio, the unmasked Spiderman circulating on the internet is exactly the same boy that has gone missing.

However, the hero was spotted swinging by a Target today, persuading a teenager to return the goods they had shoplifted from the store. Has Mark simply run away from home but felt obligated to continue enforcing the law, or has he been kidnapped?

And, more importantly, if Mark Lee has gone missing, then who is his replacement Spiderman?

Mark’s heart dropped as the speaker went silent. There had been a video of him being unmasked in his Spiderman suit? But he hadn’t even worn it in the past 24 hours—oh. Mark looked down at himself to check that he wasn’t wearing it anymore, finding his own clothes on his body.

Odd. He had only brought his phone with him when he went to find you, and he never wore his regular clothes under his suit. However, the clothes that he was wearing were definitely his—they even smelt like the laundry detergent his mum used when she washed his clothes.

If he was wearing his own clothes, then where had his Spiderman suit gone? He craned his neck to the side to look for it, immediately wincing in pain when he felt the burning pain sear through his neck. He had completely forgotten about his stiff neck.

He rubbed his neck, and the door creaked open, the masked silhouette standing there. “Good afternoon,” they said casually, picking up the empty bowls and cutlery from the floor. Mark had been bored enough to stack them up, so it was an easy task for his captor to collect the items and place them on the tray.

“If it were a good afternoon, I would be at home doing homework,” Mark snapped.

i can never promise you tomorrow

“Watch your tone,” his captor said. “I could kill you if I wanted to.”

“They’d find you,” Mark said, but he wasn’t very sure that they would.

“I don’t need to set my hands on you to drive you crazy. In fact, you’re already halfway there,” the silhouette sneered, and Mark could hear the contempt in their voice. He shuddered at the thought of going crazy, knowing that the boredom would surely drive him to do things he never would if he were in the right frame of mind.

“You should show me your face.” It was a weak attempt, but Mark didn’t want to hear anymore about his future loss of sanity, and he wanted to at least be able to identify the culprit if he ever got out alive.

“You’re changing the topic. And I don’t think I will,” the captor said. They grabbed the back of Mark’s chair and forcefully turned him around, facing him away from the door as their footsteps retreated out of the confines of the cell.

Later, the clang of a metal tray on the ground informed Mark that his food and water had been replaced, and he found that it had come with a chamber pot.

‘cause i have yet to learn how not to be his

Chenle’s hand traced lazy circles over your back until you turned to face him, legs intertwined in his.

“How are you- what do you think of the… y’know, the Mark situation?” He asked hesitantly. It was crossing some boundaries, that was for sure. Your and his relationship was meant to be free from emotional baggage, romantic gestures, and only meant as a way of comfort for both of you.

But at the end of the day, Chenle and you had dated once. Even if you had hated him for a while after the breakup, and he had ignored you for a good couple of months, he did still care about you, although he didn’t know how to—or whether he should—show it.

“I’m dealing with it,” you responded curtly. The truth was, it hurt more than it should. You were being investigated by the police, and when they found the last texts you had sent to him, it didn’t help your case much. The best you could do was to defend yourself, telling them that you had really only been in a bad place and wanted a friend to comfort you.

What they forgot was that he was still your best friend, and even if you didn’t love him back the way he loved you, he was still important to you. You didn’t want him to come to any harm, though it might seem differently to some.

You were, after all, vice-president on the student council. Now that Mark was incapacitated, you were the acting president. Besides, Mark’s crush on you had never been a secret, and half the student body thought that you had taken advantage of his crush on you to get rid of him.

His parents were the most worried, and you could barely look them in the eyes, knowing that you might have been the reason that Mark was missing. They didn’t suspect you, fully trusting you as Mark’s friend, but you didn’t want to let them down if the police found that you had led the kidnapper to Mark.

Mark’s exposed identity was also an issue. You and his parents had known since he decided to create an image for himself, but he had always wanted to keep it private for two reasons: he believed that good deeds did not need to be rewarded, and he was shy.

He didn’t want people to think of him differently because he was a “hero”. You admired him for that, but you also hated him for it. That he could be so noble and righteous, and you hated the jealousy you felt when you saw him walking around school and waving at everyone.

Superhero student council president Mark, who was only missing a lover in his otherwise perfect life.

this city will surely burn if we keep this as it is

Riize Highschool has been set on fire. 5 bodies have been recovered, and the number of injured individuals is 36 and counting. Authorities are working with the school to investigate the source of the fire. It is suspected to have been an arson attempt.

Mark’s mind ran wild with questions. Who could have tried to set the school on fire? Why? What was going on in the world, and why had his “replacement” not done anything about it?

His hands itched for something to do. The cell seemed to grow smaller by the day, the space constraining him and shutting him in. If he couldn’t escape soon, he would explode, and all the parts of him he’d tried hard to keep hidden would be on display for all to see.

He tried to pull his legs from the metal chains strapping him down for the hundredth time, pushing away from the back of the chair until he lost his balance and fell face-flat on the floor.

Blood dripped from his lips from where his teeth had torn skin, and he tried to push himself up from the floor. But the exhaustion and the weight of the chair on his back combined made it difficult, and his arms quivered from the effort.

He lay on the ground, breathing unsteady as he wondered if it was really better to be left in there alive or to leave the world peacefully.

i'd give anything to stop time

Mark missed being able to walk. He missed the sensation of sun on his face, of light reaching his eyes, he missed the freedom of not being trapped in isolated boredom the whole day. He missed his family and his friends, and most importantly, you.

He missed the curve of your neck and the warmth of you when you leaned into him on a cold day. He missed the way your waist felt in his on the rare occasions you let him hold you, missed your smile when you laughed at a silly joke on your phone.

He missed the way your face lit up when you saw him, missed sending you texts between classes, he missed everything about you. And he realised that lately, you hadn’t even felt like friends anymore.

Mark. You have fifteen minutes to leave this cell. You have been given all you need to leave, and I suggest you do it quickly.

Oh, by the way, your beloved Y/n is also trapped here. If you don't rescue them and leave in time, you can imagine what will happen.

Mark couldn’t tell what was going on in the cell, but it seemed to him that he could smell gasoline and smoke. His head whipped towards the door, seeing a flash of silver in his peripheral vision. A pair of wire cutters lay on the floor near the door of the cell, and he lunged for it, hands shaking as he tried to cut through his chains.

It was hard work, and his arms were tired and sore, and he struggled as he tried to free himself. When the second chain finally snapped, he dropped the wire cutters on the floor as he leaned back, spent.

But the reminder of you in danger spurred him on. He stood up shakily, fumbling for the key on the floor, and his trembling fingers only made it more difficult to unlock the door. As soon as he did, he stepped out into the hallway.

Smoke drifted in slowly, illuminated by the lights along the corridor. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but it was getting thicker by the minute.

“Y/n!” He yelled, voice hoarse from dehydration and misuse, desperately hoping that you would answer.

He almost collapsed from relief when he heard your voice. “Mark?”

“I'm coming! Please just keep talking, okay?”

“Okay.”

He ran down the hallways, your voice keeping him company as he searched for you.

“I miss you. I’m tired. I want to go home. Mark, we’ve all been worried sick while you were gone. I hate the responsibility you shoulder even more now that I know what it feels like, and I can’t believe you had to go through all of that. You’re insane for holding out for this long and I’m so glad you’re alive. Most of all, I miss every part of you. I’d give anything to have you back.”

“You sure about that?” The proximity of Mark’s voice filled you with relief. You turned towards the sound of his voice, and the blindfold over your eyes was the last barrier before you got to see him again. You heard the creaking of the door hinge and felt Mark’s hands land on your shoulders before he wrapped you into a hug.

As soon as he removed your blindfold, you were taken aback by how exhausted he looked. Dark circles were prominent under his eyes, his face gaunt and the cheekbones that used to be covered in a soft layer of fat seemed like a thin layer of skin over bone. His body, which used to seem taller and bigger to you just a week ago, had grown skinnier. He wasn’t taller, but somehow his body proportions looked off. He was smaller, taking up less space.

The outgoing, cheerful, popular Mark was gone — he had been replaced by someone a little awkward and unsure of himself, having grown used to living in fear.

You were in no place to comment on his appearance, however. Neither of you were in great shape; you were trussed up and your wrists were red from struggling against your bonds. Your ankles were bound tightly with rope, and it was clear to Mark that you had not been meant to stay there for long.

“We have to get out of here.”

“Yeah, no shit. Do you have a map or something? What’re you gonna do, navigate us out of here?” You were taken aback by Mark’s tone, and hurriedly amended your statement.

“I know there’s something in this room that you’re supposed to take. I was told that I would be able to get us out. Can you search the room?”

Mark scanned the room quickly before his eyes landed on you. Without a word, he knelt down in front of you, searching your pockets thoroughly. Your jeans pockets were empty, but there were a few surprises hidden in the thick folds of your hoodie.

“Got it,” he said triumphantly. He opened up his hand, and in his palm lay a few crucial items. His phone, car keys, and a sticky note.

“These are my car keys… how?” While Mark looked between his car keys and his phone, the gears in his mind whirring as he wondered how it could be, you snatched the sticky note from his hand and read the message aloud.

“Drive home, and never come back. Your car is outside. Leave.” The note ended on that threatening note, messy handwriting trailing off into a scrawl scratched across the page. Smoke drifted into the cell and you grabbed Mark’s hand.

“Run!”

As if on command, you saw the pathway lighting up. At the end of the corridor, a door opened up into light and with it, freedom. You ran toward it, the fire lapping at your heels. Although it hadn’t touched you, you could feel the blistering heat of it on your back, and the first thing you could think to do was flee.

The signs of freedom continued to greet you in the form of Mark’s car, and you ran over to the driver’s side while he unlocked the doors.

and drive around anaheim at sun down

Mark was blinking furiously, shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand while you sped off, unused to the influx of light. Luckily, you hadn’t been in darkness for long, so you adjusted quickly enough to be able to drive safely.

You sat in silence like that for a while, and Mark leaned across to stare at the building, watching it go up into flames.

You said nothing as you turned on the highway, heading towards Anaheim. It was your hometown, and though it was a little out of the way, at least no one you knew would be there. For the time being, both of you needed some peace and quiet.

When the main road branched off, you took the first exit, finding yourselves next to a grass field. You shifted the car into reverse, parking along the side of the road and turning towards Mark.

“C’mon,” you gestured to him over your shoulder and went outside the car, feet sinking into the ground as you laid back onto the grass.

The sun had set on the drive there, and you could see the moon peeking out from behind the clouds, the small visible crescent shyly waving at you. You grinned back in response and felt Mark plop down next to you, one of his arms snaking under your neck and settling on your shoulder.

to teach my mind to put you first

Even if it was Mark’s hands around you, all you could think of was Chenle’s lips on yours and his hands in your hair, and not a single thought your restless mind conjured up was of Mark.

You wanted to rip the grass from the soil and scream into the void. Why couldn’t you just love him back? After all that Mark had done for you, all he had sacrificed for you, all he had given up just for a sliver of your heart? Why did your traitorous heart despise him so?

Perhaps it was because you didn’t deserve him, and despite all the selfish greed you harboured, you knew deep down that Mark deserved so much better.

here you are, a hero

Mark had grown comfortable next to you, breathing quietly as he let loose of every muscle in his body. He could feel every knot filled with tension dissipate, could feel the pain of every cut and bruise on his body finally sinking in, almost as if he’d been too scared to register it.

"Mark-"

"Y/n-"

"You go first."

"No, you."

“I want to kiss you” was his confession, blurted out like a bad choice from the depths of his subconscious, said aloud before he even had time to think it through.

“I’ll try hard not to make this feeling a crime,” he said as he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you tenderly, tears falling silently down his cheeks.

You knew you were only putting salt on the wound when you kissed him back, claiming the parts of his heart you had known were yours all along. You knew he liked you, and you hated hurting him but you never wanted to lie to him. You didn’t want Mark to think you loved him when you didn’t. Though you’d done so much to him, you didn’t ever want Mark to have his heart broken by someone who told him they loved him when they didn’t.

Not with all of their heart, at least. You did love Mark, platonically, but the important parts he wanted were the ones he couldn’t have, the ones that belonged to someone else.

You could feel Mark’s sadness piercing through your heart, his tears saltier than the dead sea. He was so genuine, so raw with his hurt as he kissed you, you almost caved and told him you could give up on Chenle. Almost.

But you couldn’t- you couldn’t do that to him.

you wanna be my new home

He pulled away, and as you stared at him, the pale yellow glow that emanated from him seemed to grow brighter before it faded. Mark, your guardian angel, who had fallen from glory and had been reduced to naught but a shadow of his former self. Everything that had made Mark stand out was gone.

And it was all because of you.

You had first started to want to know how to make Mark's webs synthetically when he first used his powers on you for target practice. His webs were long and unwieldy, and uncomfortable to use. You had been curious to see if you could possess those powers too, perhaps better than Mark.

The point where your intentions went from harmless to harmful was when you were about three-quarters of the way through the process. Mark had told you that he had won a scholarship that you had been eyeing.

It had been a tiresome period of jealousy for you, constantly feeling outdone by Mark. Him getting the scholarship you wanted had been the tipping point for you, and you were jealous that it seemed like Mark had the perfect life, while you were always competing with him. Sick and tired of it all, you had decided to give him a taste of his own medicine.

“Your turn,” Mark said, interrupting your thoughts. “What did you want to say?”

“It was me, a week ago, that knocked you out and kidnapped you. I had been planning it since you had gotten that scholarship I had wanted, and by the time I realised that I wasn’t upset with you any more, it was too late. You had been gone for 3 days and I didn’t know how to let you leave without anyone figuring out that it had been me.

“I wanted to come clean, yet I was scared of the repercussions. It took me a few days to come up with a plan to get you to ‘save’ me so you wouldn’t suspect me, and I would burn the place down so no one would ever know.

“I wanted to live your life, Mark. I wanted to know what it was like to have everyone adore you, to be at the top of the world, carefree and loved. I was sick of hiding in your shadow, I wanted to know what it was like to be a hero, to no longer settle for second best.

“But after experiencing it? I don’t think I want that life. It’s not for me. The amount of pressure you must have been under every day of your life is not something I envy. I understand now why everyone admires you. You’re worthy of that, and I’m not.”

Your palms were clammy with sweat, unsure how he would react. “I’m sorry for all I did. I hope now you understand why I would never be worthy of your love. And I hope- I hope that you won’t love me anymore in ways I can’t return.”

You didn’t know what you had expected from Mark, but it definitely wasn’t acceptance, much less his forgiveness.

When he said, "It's okay," you looked at him in confusion. What was he talking about?

"What you've done is in the past. We're both here now, aren't we?" At that, you understood. It was because he was Mark Lee, angelic and purer than you could ever hope to be, with a heart bigger than the universe. Only he would be able to forgive you after everything you had done. You nodded, and when you stood it felt like your feet were weightless against the cotton candy clouds soft under your feet.

but baby, let up

By then it was getting late, and the sun was starting to set. Mark had been silent for a while, and though it worried you, you had other concerns. The most important one at the moment was how you were going to get back home, because you were still stuck on a little road in Anaheim when you lived all the way in Fort Irwin.

It was late at night and Mark’s phone was dead, so you handed him your phone to ask him to navigate. It was an unfamiliar place and you couldn’t wait to be back in the comfort of your home, and you wanted to get Mark back to his parents as soon as possible.

Deep down, maybe you wanted to prove that their trust in you wasn’t misplaced, wasn’t unwarranted. But when you slipped your phone into Mark’s hand, it was freezing cold, and when you turned to look at him, it sent shivers down your spine.

“Mark?” He disappeared before your eyes with a sad smile, fading into nothingness while you grasped at him in a panic, refusing to believe that he wasn’t real. Your attempts were all futile as your fingers met with cold air until all that was left of Mark was your memories and regret.

i won't ever recognize these roads

You sped back after that, unsettled and afraid. If you hadn’t saved Mark, then your guilty conscience wasn’t cleared after all. How long had you been hallucinating him? Had Mark ever been real, or was he simply a figment of your imagination? How much of your reality could you trust?

Your foot on the accelerator never let up, speeding across the highway with a sinking feeling in your stomach. If Mark was real all along, and you had kidnapped him, but he wasn’t there with you, then there could only be one possibility…

'cause i am lost, but not in you

“Chenle,” you managed breathlessly while Chenle looked at you in horror. He was dressed in pajamas, as if he had been about to sleep, and you knew you were a mess.

Your wrists were red from struggling against the bonds that you had tied for yourself, an effort to make your kidnapping look real to Mark. Parts of your hair had been singed in the fire, and you smelt strongly of smoke and sweat. Your clothes were stained brown from the wet soil of the grass fields, and your shoes were falling apart.

“I think I killed him.” You wished the revelation would hurt, but Chenle slamming his door in your face hurt you more. You sank to your feet, defeated, back against his door as you sighed.

Perhaps it would be better if you ceased to exist, too. At least in hell you would get the punishment you deserved.

epilogue.

The sky burns bright like ochre, burnt umber streaks like autumn. As if on cue, as the coffins are lowered side-by-side into the earth, thunder rumbles across the sky. The sky weeps as if haunted by memories, harbouring the guilt of the murderer and the pain of their victim.

The land sings its heart out, crickets chirping and nightingales drifting by as the sky darkens. Chenle tightens his grip around the chrysanthemums in his hand as he watches the disfigured silhouettes descend.

He doesn’t know what to do. Mark Lee had been a friend of his. Granted, not a close one, but a friend nonetheless. And to think that his fuck-buddy had killed him in cold blood was a burden he wasn’t sure he wanted to bear.

He breathes in and sighs. Even if he loved you, it was too late to change the course of things. All that had happened would have happened some way or other, and all he could do was try to right things in his own way.

Chenle watches on in silence as the families of the bereaved pay their respects. He’s hidden under the shelter of the umbrella, drawn to his eye-line so no one can make eye contact with him. He observes silently as the families mourn their loved ones, not knowing that the two best friends hadn’t been kidnapped, but that one had killed the other.

When you had showed up at his door, Chenle had the fright of his life. Your pants were dotted with blood, tears streaming down your cheeks. When he heard what you had done to Mark, his first instinct was to deny it. He slammed the door in your face, head spinning, stunned by your confession.

There was nothing else he could have done.

He could not have stopped you, headstrong as you were, heading back the entire way to Mark’s deathbed, where you hugged him tightly as flames enveloped you, burning away all traces of your guilt.

When the authorities found you a day later, the forensics seemed to match up to logic—the unknown killer had killed both of you, burned you to erase their footsteps, and you two had huddled together in fear during your last moments.

He kneels to the ground and weeps with the sky, umbrella dropping to the side as the downpour drenched him and the earth as if they were one. His sorrow would melt into the soil if it could, but as it could not, it remained heavy in his heart.

Onlookers would see a grieving boyfriend, crying for his lover and friend. It was not far from the truth, but nothing they thought would come close to what had really happened to the unhappy dead.

If only they knew the truth.

fin.

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

#k-labels #nct #nct dream #mark #nct 127 #superm #mark lee #kpop fics #🎤 — spotify collections #Spotify #requested #🪁 — my works #fic: the strings of fate

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mint-moon25 · 9 months ago

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FLORIDA - FOOD ASSISTANCE - SNAP

NEW - WEBSITE

MY ACCESS . MY FL FAMILIES . com

WENT - 2 - PROVIDERS - APP

CHANGED - MY ZIP CODE

WENT - 2 - WEBSITE - LINKED - MY

BENEFITS

WHEN - I - DID - STATUS - WENT

2 - 2ND - PART - NO 2 - NOW - A

CASEWORKER - WILL - REVIEW

SHORTLY - HOORAY

WILL - GET - BENEFITS - 22 MAR

AFTER - ALL - PROVIDERS - APP

TYPED - MY - CASE NO

SAME - AFTER - YEARS

BENEFIT - AS - HOMELESS

TOTAL - $67

HAD - 2 - RE-APPLY - FOR

PAPERLESS - AND - TEXT

THEY'RE - NOT - GREAT

WITH - THAT - SAW - MY

PAST LETTER - JAN 2024

FORGOT - THAT ADDRESS

SO - LONG - AGO

MIAMI - OVER - 1 YEAR

SAW - AGAIN - MY - HE IS

A - WOMAN - AND - SAID

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BEING - A - MAN - TOOLS

SO - CAN - WEE WEE LIKE

A - MAN - WITH - RUBBER

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AMAZON - ALSO

WHO - GIVES - FOOD - TO

US - WEDNESDAYS

GAVE - HIM - $200

AMAZON - GIFT - CARD

SO - THEY - BOUGHT

BODY - PARTS

FAKE - BOOBS - 4 HIM

FAKE - MALE - RUBBER

PARTS - SHE - CAN YES

WEAR - 2 - WEE WEE

LIKE - A - MAN

$200 - WOULD - HAVE

BOUGHT - ME - SWIMWEAR

PINK - OTHER - COLORS

$19.99 - 2 DAY - PRIME

OR - OVERNIGHT FREE

WELL - HE - SAID - BECAUSE

OF - HOMELESS

MY - MIND - ($30 MILLION)

MILITARY - TENTS - 3 MEALS

FREE - NOT - 5 MEALS - SAID

GOVERNOR - DECREASING

MIN WAGE

I - THINK - THESE - HOMELESS

WHITES - BLKS

DEPRESSING - DOMESDAY

HOMELESS - EX - US ARMY

VETERAN - CREATING - WORDS

PER - LAW - 'I - CAN - READ TOO'

HERE's - GOOGLE - SEARCH

FLORIDA - ON - SCHEDULE

MIN - WAGE - NEW - $12 HOURLY

TIPPED - JOBS - LOWER

HOWEVER - GREAT - NEWS - FL

30 SEPT - NEW MINIMUM WAGE

$13 - HOURLY - FLORIDA

MONDAY - AT - LEAST

THEY - BOSTON - MA - MASSACHUSETTS

6 MONTHS

THEIR - STOCKBROCKER - FRIEND - HUGE

HOUSE - BUILT - FREE - 4 - THEM - LOTS OF

BEDROOMS - SAN DIEGO - BEACH - AREA

BEACH - HOUSE - HE's - TURNING - INTO A

BED - AND - BREAKFAST

BACK - AREA

ROCK & ROLL - BEACH - ACTIVITIES

HE's - CHARGING - MONEY - FOR

GOOD - 4 - THEM

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FROM - HE - CAN - COOK - HE's

THE - CHEF - 4 - BREAKFAST - 2

GOOD - 4 - THEM

THEY'RE - LEAVING

HISPANIC - MALE - KEPT - ON

SAYING - WHAT - I - GAVE HIM

HE'LL - GO - 2 - JAIL - FROM

HE - CAN'T - FIND - MY - YES

2 - INFLATE - MY - AIR - MAT

HE's - LEAVING - 2 GET JOB

GOOD

LAW - PASSED - WE'RE - YES

WAITING - 1 YEAR - CAMP

AREA - THEY - WILL ONLY

B - ALLOWED - THOSE - YES

BURROWED - PROPERTIES

1 YEAR - IN - ADDITION - TO

MORE - TRADITIONAL

SHELTERS - TOTAL - SPEND

$30 MILLION

1 YEAR - CAMP - AREA

MILITARY - TENTS

GUARDS - NO - CURFEW

UNTIL - THEM - GETTING

HUGER - TARP - AT - ROSS

$7.99

THEN - OTHER - THAT HAS

HOLE - ALREADY - 4 - I'VE

BEEN - USING - 2 - TIE ON

FENCE - USING - THAT

8 FT - X - 10 FT

SMALL - IN - REAL LIFE

USING - 2 - PROTECT MY

WALMART - LUGGAGE

DUFFLE - BAG - ROSS

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2 - SHIELD FR RAIN

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AM - PREPARING

HISPANIC - MIDGET - WHO

WANTS - 2 - MARRY - ME I

SAID - I - HAVE - 'NOVIO'

BOYFRIEND - NOW - HE WAS

SCARING - ME - ABOUT - BLK

MALE - LOOKING - AT - MY BL

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MOST - LIKELY - MY - BLK

BALLS - 2 - TIE - TARP - HE

TRIED - 2 - SCARE - ME

STEALING - MY - SHIRT

MY - PILLOWS - MY IGLOO

BOO BOO

GOD - REDEEMED - US - FR

THE - CURSE - OF THE LAW

OF - THIS - PLANET

DOMINATED - BY - SATAN

A - LOOSE OUTLAW SPIRIT

BUT - WE'RE - REDEEMED

EXCEPT - FROM

CONSTANT - ROBBERY

JESUS - IS - LORD

TOLD - HIM - 2 - STOP

SCARING - ME - HE - 2

WANTED - 2 - WATCH

ME - PUT - MAKE - UP

ON - TOLD - ME - ABOUT

THE - BACOPA - EFFECTS

AROUND - MY - NOSE

THEY - ARE - FULL - OF

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FISHTALES - SOLUTION

I - SAID - DON'T - WORRY

ABOUT - IT - I - NEED - TO

DO - MY - MAKE UP

THEN - LATER - HE - JUST

LOOKS - AT - ME

I - JUST - LOOK - SOME -

WHERE - ELSE

WHAT - I - MISS - ABOUT

EUROPE - TALL - BLUE

EYES - GORGEOUS MEN

MISS - ABOUT - ASIA

ADMIRING - GLANCES

OF - TALL - THIN PRETTY

MALES - VIETNAM - AND

BANGKOK - THAILAND - 2

HERE - IN - MIAMI

UGLY - SMELLY - BAD

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HOBO - HISPANIC AND

BLKS - WANT 2 SHOVE

THEIR - PEE PEE IN MY

VAGINAL - AREA - FOR

I - HAD - TENTS

I - HAVE - BLUE - TARP

'NO ONE - IS LOOKING'

BLK - MALE - WANTED

2 - TALK - 2 - ME - AT

2:08A EST

I - SAID - 'IT's - 2 A EST'

HE - SPOKE - LOUD - 2

A - HISPANIC - OLD YES

MALE - OUT - LOUD

THEN - LEFT

I - HAD - EAR - PLUGS

ON - YOUTUBE - JERRY

SAVELLE - GOD's WORD

JOEL OSTEEN

2 - BUILD - US - UP

BLK - HOMELESS - FR

OTHER SIDE - OF SW 2 ST

WANTED - 2 - SHOW - HIS

NAKED - PEE PEE - 2 YES

PENETRATE - VAGINAL

AREA - LIVE - INSIDE - MY

BLUE - TARP

MIAMI - FLORIDA

LIVE - LIVE - PEE PEE - 2

WEE - WEE - ON FENCES

LIVE - PEE PEE - 2 - YES

PENETRATE - ASIANS

INSIDE - OPEN - BLUE

TARP - FR - ROSS DRESS

4 - LESS

MIAMI - IMMORAL - USA

AMERICANS - CUBANS

COLUMBIANS - HISPANICS

BLKS - FR - CUBA - ALSO

BLKS - FR - HAITI - MOST

VIOLENT - MIAMI - POLICE

BRICKELL - CITY - CENTRE

ARMED - ALLIED - ALLIANCE

SECURITY - THEY'RE - LIKE

COPY - CATS - OF - MIAMI

14TH - AMENDMENT

AS - AMERICANS

ILLITERATE - LOW - GPA

NOT - BRIGHT - VIOLENT

UGLY - REPULSIVE - YES

HUMANS - MIAMI - 99%

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ALWAYS - ALLIED SECURITY

SMILING - ABOUT - THROWING

AWAY - WHAT - WE - BOUGHT 2

7TH - AMENDMENT

CIVIL SUITS - WHEN - AMOUNT

IS - OVER - $20 - RIGHT 2 TRIAL

BY - JURY - SHALL - B - ALWAYS

PRESERVED - REV'D - REVISED

THUS - AS - WE - SUE

HARVARD - LAW

REPUBLICAN - PARTY - OF - FL

PAYING - ME - $1 TRILLION PER

DAY - 500 YEARS - TAX - PAID

PLUS - CITIZENS - RESIDENTS

OF - FLORIDA

'2 - KILL - A - MOCKINGBIRD'

2 - KILL ABUSE FOREIGNERS

BIBLE - NEVER - HARM - THE

FOREIGNER - LIVING AMONG

THEM - NEVER - MISTREAT 2

EATING - FIRST - THEN - WILL

GO - 2 - ROSS

BUY - HUGE - TARP - $7.99

JESUS - IS - LORD

KOREAN - GIRLS 2

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ross-theartist · 14 days ago

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My digital footprint is gone already😭

10-15 minutes later-

#YO???#fpe #fandom #artists on tumblr #heal fpe #fpe ocs #oc art #artwork #fpe zip #fundamental paper education #art #zoss fpe #Zoss #Zip x Oc #zip x ross

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maximumparadisesandwich · 10 months ago

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berlinini · 3 years ago

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A-COLD-WALL*

Inspired by the British class system [and] founded by the London-based designer Samuel Ross in 2015, [the] collection merges British working-class uniforms with elements of Savile Row tailoring. (...) Samuel Ross was once the ex-assistant and now the consultant of OFF-WHITE founder Virgil Abloh. x

Open Source Hardware

A-COLD-WALL* hardware packages enable individuals the opportunity to access brand intellectual property.

Open-source as a philosophy brings forth conscious brand values that have the capacity to directly enhance interaction between individual & brand.

Deepening the SP-1 experience, a further layer of participation has been plugged into the project in the form of Open Source Hardware — a radical expression of the brand’s outward-looking attitude. An online catalogue of buckles, adjusters, zip pullers, drawcords and stoppers are available to purchase in pack form. Fully branded with the classic A-COLD-WALL* bracket logo, available in the company’s trademark colour schemes, these components place brand intellectual property directly in the hands of the customer. This atypical approach to retail is an experiment in trust. Decisions as to how and where these pieces are applied rest entirely with the purchaser, the options truly endless. Here, the notion of brand as impassable gatekeeper makes way for a relationship based on openness and exchange.

Equally, sharing IP starts a process of recontextualising brand. Taking a piece of hardware and attaching it to an external item raises numerous questions. A logo is loaded with meaning, instantly understood, it carries with it the accumulation of history and message. Attached to a generic, unrelated item of clothing or accessory, a piece of furniture or a simple keychain, the wearer is asked to consider if meaning has now changed.

Similarly, how has the application of this branded hardware altered the object on to which it has been attached? How does the user feel about the logo now that they are in complete control of its placement? By sharing these pieces of IP, A-COLD-WALL* asks its audience to actively participate in an investigation, one which reimagines the logo as part of a wider analysis of the very concept of brand itself.

#a cold wall #ltwt fashion #ltwt:nashville #samuel ross

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dccomicsimagines · 4 years ago

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My Business - Clark Kent x Reader

Requested by Anon - A superman x reader imagine with the prompt: "I found your nose! It was in my business."

Requested by warblinglion0 - Hi! Could I request a Clark Kent imagine please??

***

Clark closed his eyes against the blowing snow. He flew over the city, using his super hearing to guide him. The city was quieter than normal. The snowstorm had shut almost everything down.

He sighed, swooping down to help a woman carry home groceries. “Thank you, Superman,” she shouted once she was at her building. Clark waved at her and took off into the sky again.

Most of his day was spent helping stranded people with the storm. He had already written his article about the impact of the storm on Metropolis’ sewer system. Perry could forgive boring content when the storm created a slow news day. Clark snorted. He bet Lois found some kind of amazing story in this weather.

He landed on the top of the Daily Planet. The cold air felt sharp in his lungs. It reminded him of winters at home. He looked out at the snow covered city, thinking of turning in. A cup of hot chocolate while watching that documentary he felt would give him an edge in a story he was researching. He felt warm already.

“Get lost, jerk.” Your voice hit his ears. Clark’s eyes widened in surprise. It was like he was subconsciously listening for you sometimes. Your voice always came to him in the moments he never suspected.

He floated into the air, searching for you. You sounded too close to be at your apartment across town.

“Stupid, country bum,” a man’s voice echoed near you. Clark heard a door slam. He flew faster before slowing when he found you trudging through the snow in the street. His stomach dropped at how underdressed you were. You didn’t even have a coat on.

He almost flew down to you, but he stopped himself. People couldn’t see Superman around you. Too risky. He quickly flew to his apartment only a block away. Changing into regular clothes, he made sure to pick up an extra coat for you before zooming back to you.

***

You wrapped your arms around yourself and cursed your situation. Why didn’t you bring a coat? Why did you decide to go the the club during a snowstorm? You shook your head, feeling the snow settled on your head. Everything was shut down. You shivered, crossing the street to make the long walk home.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?” Clark’s voice made you jump. You spun around, seeing him run over to you. Ironically, he was dressed for the weather. Funny since he couldn’t feel the cold. “Where’s your coat?” He had an extra coat over his arm, which he quickly wrapped around you. You slipped your arms in the sleeves, noting how warm it was.

A shaky laugh escaped you. “I found your nose. It’s in my business...again.” You tapped his nose before struggling to zip up the coat. Your fingers were already numb, burning from the cold. Clark shook his head, smiling as he zipped it for you.

“Come on. It’s too far for you to go home now. My place is nearby.” He wrapped a strong arm around you and led you home. “Now why are you out in this weather?”

He was so warm and his big frame blocked the wind. “Well, I got invited to a club by some friends of Lucy’s.” You bit your lip. “I thought I’d go, but then one of the guys started making fun of me when I didn’t know what...” You stopped yourself from spilling the embarrassing conversation. “Never mind.”

“You’re always getting in trouble.” Clark unlocked his building’s front door and held it open for you. You hurried inside, stomping your feet to knock off the snow. Shivers rocked your body, you could have swore ice was forming on your body.

“And you’re always popping up to help.” You rolled your eyes. “I never would have thought my good old brother, Pete, would ask you to keep an eye on me so much. Do you two even talk that much anymore?”

“We do.” Clark bit his lip. Pete Ross didn’t call him that much, but they always caught up when Clark went home for a visit. It was actually during one of those visits that Pete asked Clark to keep an eye on his younger sibling who got it into their head to move to Metropolis. Pete thought you were in over your head, and honestly, most of the time you were.

You pulled Clark’s jacket closer as you both headed to the elevator. “I mean there was that time where I was in that bad roommate situation, so you helped me move. Then I wanted to rent that one place for really cheap and you stepped in to show me how bad it was. Of course, then you came in with that offer to live with Lucy Lane in a nicer part of town.”

Clark blushed slightly. “Well, it’s the least I could do. I mean you’re practically family, (Y/N).”

Your stomach soured slightly. You were afraid he only saw you as Pete’s little tagalong sibling. Who could blame him when you felt so helpless most of the time? “I personally think it’s because you want to make up for breaking up my mud mask business in the fifth grade.”

He laughed hard, almost doubling over. “You were taking mud from the pond and mixing it with your mother’s perfume. It made three people break out in hives.”

“I had a warning label on it.” You smiled at his reaction. “And it was five dollars a bottle.”

Clark shook his head. “Ma actually bought one from you. She didn’t use it though. In fact, I think she still has it sitting in the garage.”

“Too bad for her. Lana swore by it. Said it cleared up her acne just like that.” You snapped your fingers, chuckling along with him. The elevator doors opened and Clark led the way down the hall to his apartment.

“In all seriousness though, you shouldn’t have went out with a storm on the way. The city shuts down during snowstorms.” Clark unlocked his apartment door and pushed it open to let you in first.

“The club was still open.” You wandered inside, flicking on the lights to take in the bland surroundings. The only personal items were a framed newspaper article and three family pictures of the Kents.

“Stupidly still open, yes.” Clark shut the door and locked it. “I’ll make some hot chocolate. Make yourself comfortable, (Y/N).” He took off his coat and shook it out before pulling off his shoes. You kept the coat on, still warming up.

Clark went into the kitchen and you trailed behind him. “Were you as helpless as me when you first moved here?” you asked suddenly as you took a seat at the counter. Clark blinked, turning to look at you while he turned on the stove.

“Yes. I had no idea what I was doing and I had a few tricky situations myself.” He smiled. “I’m glad I can help you not to make the same mistakes I did.”

You hummed. He turned back to start warming up the milk. “Of course it was easier for you. Being Superman and all.” Clark flinched, looking at you with wide eyes. You laughed at the sight. “I know. I know. We’re not supposed to talk about it. It’s the thing we know, but never speak of.”

Clark sighed. “I don’t think that made it easier for me.” He cleared his throat, turning back to the stove. “It was hard to hide my powers. To have some much noise around me all the time. Not to mention when I decided to become Superman.”

You watched him, noting the tension in his shoulders. Part of you wanted to go hug him, but you resisted. You didn’t know how he would react. “I remember the first time we knew for sure that you were something special. It was during winter break one year. You, Pete, and Tommy Johnson were trying to go ice fishing at the lake. I followed you because you wouldn’t let me come and I was being stubborn.”

“You fell through the ice because you walked on the thin part.” Clark hummed, getting out the chocolate mix.

“No one would have noticed, but you heard me scream.” You crossed your arms. The chill from the freezing water felt like a permanent scar every time you thought back on that day. “I went under the ice and I couldn’t find a way to get out.”

“I dived in after you.” Clark mixed in the chocolate slowly. You wondered if he was remembering how cold the water was too, even though he didn’t get cold. “I had to break through the ice once I found you. Pete and Tommy ran over to help. I let them pull us out. Tommy couldn’t believe I broke through the ice, but Pete told him it was thin there too.”

“None of us said anything about it, but you did save my life that day.” You took a deep breath, slipping off your chair. Taking off his coat, you were finally warm enough. “We always knew, but never really talked about it. I remember I tried to ask Pete to ask you to lift this big rock for me and he slapped my face.”

“He slapped you?” Clark spun to you, staring at your cheek like Pete just slapped you right this second. You chuckled and touched your cheek. It had stun a lot. You cried at the time.

“Pete was protecting you. Like I said it’s the thing we all knew, but never talked about.” Your face burned at the concern on his face. “I’m fine, Clark.”

Clark bit his lip, turning away to grab two mugs out of the cabinet. You snorted when you saw he had a superman mug. “Ma gave this to me. She thought it was funny.” He handed you a filled mug and turned off the stove.

“It is if you know.” You took a sip, licking your lips. “This is good.”

“Thanks, I learned from the best.” Clark took a sip of his own hot chocolate. “I was going to watch a documentary for work if you want join me? Otherwise, we can just watch regular TV, I’m not picky.”

You headed into the living room and made yourself comfortable on his couch. “The documentary is fine. I like learning.”

“I bet Mrs. G just rolled over in her grave at that.” Clark laughed. “I remember how you made her so mad that her face turned completely red like she was going to burst into flames.”

“Good times.” You laughed, relaxing as Clark sat down beside you. Shyly, he grabbed a blanket and covered you and himself with it. You hesitated before cuddling into his side.

Clark paused. You saw a mixed expression of emotions cross his face. “You comfortable?”

“Yep.” You took another sip from your mug. Clark relaxed and turned on the documentary. The two of you snuggled while the snowstorm raged outside.

***

The next morning, Clark was startled to hear eggs frying in the kitchen. He slowly got out of bed and was about to leave his bedroom until he remembered you. Quickly, he pulled on an old Smallville High t-shirt. No reason to scare you with his bare chest.

You were in the kitchen. Clark stopped in the doorway, his breath taken away. He had forgotten he had given you a shirt of his to wear. You turned when you heard his gasp. “Good morning.” You waved innocently before turning back to the stove. “I hope you don’t mind that I made us breakfast. I figured it was the least I could do since you let me stay here last night.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to send you out into the storm.” Clark sat down at the table. His body threatened to burst into flames. Why did you look so good in his shirt?

“You could have flown me home.” Clark watched you as you made a plate for him. He almost groaned at how domestic it was. Part of him wished you could be here every morning. However, the other part of him knew you were Pete Ross’ sibling. Off limits.

Clark cleared his throat. You set the plate in front of him. “Thank you.” He dug into the food to distract himself from the racing thoughts.

You laughed and made a plate for yourself. Clark tensed when you sat down right next to him. “So it’s still snowing outside,” you said, picking at your food.

“It is.” Clark glanced out the window at the winter wonderland outside. “I’ll have to insist you stay here.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have to insist.” You met his eye, winking at him. “But what are we going to do all day long?”

Clark took a big bite of eggs. His heart fluttered at your wink. “I do have to write an article, but after we could...I don’t know...maybe break out that game we used to play?”

“You still have that? And you have it here?” You gasped, clapping your hands.

“Ma sent it to me a year ago. Said I might need it.” Clark chuckled. He avoid mentioning that Ma only sent it after she found you out were moving to Metropolis. Come to think of it, Clark wondered if Ma knew something he didn’t. Then again, she always did.

You went into a story about when you all first played the game. Clark listened, remembering it himself. You, Pete, and Clark played the game for the first time in the basement of his house while there was a tornado warning. A warm fuzzy feeling came to his chest. Clark decided then and there that he would call Pete once you went home and ask him for permission to ask you out.

#clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #superman #superman x reader #superman imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert

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abiiors · 2 years ago

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Hear me out, for matty x ross x reader, I have two ides one which is subby matty x dom ross x switch reader.

Or soft dom matty x mean dom ross x bottom reader

The following is for them both being doms

matty has been watching you all night,watching you flirt with ross, try and use terminology you so clearly don't know when tlaking about the bass, lingering touches. He doesn't like it, hates it even, you wlak past him, his hand brushes yours and you notice the way he's eyeing you, you know he wants you. When you come back with a drink, he pulls you into his lap as you pass, direct eye contact with ross. Mattys hands firmly around your waist, head on your shoulder, staring ross down, who's eyes have never once left you.

@hereyeswerefilledwiththestars said something about wanting to be squished between them like a compressed zip file and i understand that now.

This is truly so pathetic of me but the thoughts have turned putrid🧎🏽‍♀️

#asks #smutty asks #ross macdonald #matty healy #the 1975 #🍓

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

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Attack Of The Winter Wolf: Revealed

Summary- 7.7k Alpha Steve x Little One Reader. Steve and you pack up in the Stark Jet and head across the ocean, this time to Norway. Steve seems to think that there will be the answers needed to help your friends for good. Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Warnings- None

A/N- Those that have stuck with me through this, thank you. I hope this isn’t turning into a “what the hell are you trying to do Amber” kind of deal. Haha. I don’t have any real answers, its just whats coming out. Anyways, thank you for reading, as always its so appreciated to hear what your thoughts are on it. Happy Howling 🐺💙

Chapter Three / Masterlist

It was a rush the following morning, Steve and Tony were busy checking over the jet being loaned for the mission. Meanwhile Pepper showed you around the giant Stark Towers. The last time you had been here you were unconscious, not remembering any of it. Pepper’s heels clicking against linoleum, while you rushed after the fast paced Alpha who was doing two tasks at once. But once she led you on the elevator, hitting some buttons, she tucked her tablet under her arm, turning her attention to you with a relaxed smile.

“Dr. Banner has been wanting to officially meet you.” She stated as an explanation for the elevator ride. Twiddling your fingers, you shuffled foot to foot a bit nervous, only knowing the doctor had been where Steve rushed you to first when Pierce injected you.

When the elevator door dinged and the two of you stepped out to what looked like a medical wing. A dark haired man stepped out while flipping through a chart muttering to himself when Pepper cleared her throat. “Bruce, you have a visitor.” His head lifted, blinking at them from over his glasses frames, confused as to who would want to intrude on him. But then recognition crossed his features and he snapped his clipboard shut, striding over.

“Y/N! Pepper told me Steve was coming back this way for help, and I was hoping he would bring you.” His hand popped out to shake yours. You welcomed it with a tilt of your head, drawing in his scent. A part of you recognized him, the hint of warmth and freshness.

“ Dr.Banner a pleasure… Steve told me what you had done for me, thank you for everything.”

Bruce sputtered a bit, giving a shrug. “Ahh, I wasn’t able to do much, just send you along to someone better able to handle what happened to you. Umm, do you have a few minutes? I just really would like to ask you a few questions about your experience. If you are okay with that of course.” He added almost shyly and you smiled reassuringly.

“I have no problem with that Dr.Banner.”

“Bruce please.” Bruce looked expectantly at Pepper who checked her watch and nodded.

“We got time, Tony will have Friday call for us when the jet is ready.” Bruce immediately turned on his heels and led the two of you towards his office.

Steve went through the jet, checking all the gear stashed on board as well as settling in the controls chair to make sure he was familiar with everything before leaving Stark towers. Tony plopped in the one next to him, making the Alpha in Steve rumble at the intrusion but Steve was able to placate him.

“So off to Norway huh?” Tony leaned forward to enter the coordinates in the dash for the autopilot. “What's in Norway that can help you with everything?”

Steve growled as he continued going over the controls. “You saw the file Fury sent along Stark. You know exactly who is there.”

“Okay you got me.” Tony finished what he was doing and turned the chair to face Steve. “I also know he's basically a recluse now and the chance of you getting him to talk is almost nada, zip, zilch. What makes you think he's gonna spill what you need.”

“I have my ways…” Steve said coldly, his wolf growling softly at the other Alpha in his space.

Tony gave a mock shiver. “Alright alright… just be careful okay? I know we're not on the best terms Steve but I do have a lot of respect for what you are trying to do.”

Steve arched a brow and shook his head. “We’re not enemies Tony, I don’t happen to agree or appreciate that stunt you pulled with Ross. But I think now my stance on that shit is known. We can disagree and still be fine.” Tony next to him brushed it off while continuing with the switches, making his own adjustments to the system.

“I know Steve, it was still a shitty move on my part, bringing Ross into your home, where your mate was after everything that happened. But she certainly put me in my place.” He laughed, recalling how you kicked all of them out.

Steve glanced at Tony from the corner of his eye and rumbled out a “Thank you Stark, Y/N certainly isn't taking anyone's shit, not anymore.” Tony snorted in agreement to that statement.

“I don’t think they ever do, Pepper is the same damn way.”

Steve laughed in return, knowing full well that everything Tony said was accurate about Pepper Potts, Tony had chosen well for himself in Steve’s opinion. For all the tension between Steve and Tony, he respected the Alpha next to him, and knew that finding his packmates was just as important to Tony as it was to Steve. Not to mention finding those responsible for Happy’s murder. Steve turned his chair to face the other Alpha. “I’m sorry about what happened to Happy Tony. I know it’s hard to have lost someone who was family to you.”

Tony blinked at him, warring with his own feelings about everything that happened. Losing Happy so brutally had taken a toll on Tony, finding the body having been dumped just outside of his territory, he still hadn’t been able to fully come to terms with it. “Thank you. Finding the bastards who did that has become my main priority.” Clapping his hands together to end the topic, he moved to a stand. “You Rogers are ready to go, ready to Captain my jet?”

Steve waited till Tony moved out of his space before moving to follow him off the jet, keeping quiet about the further mention of Tony seeking out Happy’s killer. After seeing what had happened with Bucky and the rest, he already had his own sinking suspicions as to who killed Happy and he knew Tony did as well.

“More than ready to go.” Steve stated, coming down the steps off the jet. Tony spoke up right then.

“Friday, let Pepper and Y/N know that Captain Rogers is ready.” That caused Steve to roll his eyes and fold his arms over his chest.

“Seriously Tony?”

A smirk flashed, Tony winked at him. “Come on, I think it's a fitting title for you.”

Bruce was furiously writing notes while you described to him what you remembered being under due to the drug Pierce had injected you with when the AI Friday announced that the jet was ready, as well as Captain Rogers. You and Pepper quirk a confused look at one another, and she rolled her eyes with a sigh. “That's gotta be Tony’s doing I'm sure.”

You nod in agreement, turning back to Bruce. “Looks like it's time for me to go Dr.Banner…”

“Bruce.” He was quick to interrupt and moved to a stand to shake your hand. “Thank you so much for this.” He tapped his pad of paper where he had all the notes jotted. “I will put them in my file to share with Shuri. All this is incredibly helpful knowing more about the serum used on you.”

Giving a vigorous shake back, you smiled genuinely at Bruce, you and your Little Wolf feeling quite relaxed with the man. “If I think of anything, I will be sure to send an email.” The Little Wolf flicked her tail in agreement, half listening while she was napping.

“Oh! Yes please do with anything you might remember, no bit of information is too small.”

Pepper walked out with you and joined you in the elevator. Reaching the top of Stark Towers, you both were greeted by Steve and Tony, who waited just inside the jet. As soon as you saw Steve, warmth washed over you, feeling that bond between you two hum happily, your wolves sought each other, in the moment they both were teasing each other, making your mood lift from having to leave once more. The genuine pleasure at seeing Steve melded that away, just as his own did, the wolves happiness being together melded with your own. Steve enclosed you in his arms, nuzzling the crown of your head a moment before questioning if you were all set.

“Tony Stark is funding another trip for us? I’m absolutely ready.” You joked as Steve let you go so you could turn to face Tony who scoffed at you.

“Don’t let Cap here defile my jet please!” Tony was sure to give you his signature hug, that made Steve rumble a bit although you instead laughed and gave a bop of your shoulder.

“No promises Stark. Pepper, thank you for showing me around your home.” Embracing her in a thank you.

“Stay safe and bring my jet back quickly, Cap.” Tony pipped up while walking off the jet with Pepper, cackling to himself at the finger Steve threw up while the doors shut you two in.

The Alpha muttered to himself while dropping into the pilot's seat and you were quick to join him on the opposite side. You buckled in while he flicked on buttons. “Captain Rogers?” you questioned watching him get the jet ready.

Steve rolled his eyes as he made sure everything was set and handed you a headset while fitting his own on, the jet rumbling to life around you. “Tony thinks he is very slick, giving nicknames. Apparently Cap is his new one for me.”

You smirked at him, winking as you settled the headset on and spoke into the microphone. “I think Captain Rogers has its benefits, Steve.”

His hand went around the handle and started to push it forward, edging the jet forward to take off, the spanse of New York City below you. Much like the night before, you marveled at the beauty only a city could offer. “You would Little One.”

A voice piped up over the channel, Tony coming over the comms. “I think your mate has a point Cap.”

Steve growled into the comm for a second while you started laughing in the seat next to him. “Tony! Get off this channel.”

“It's my jet, Rogers! I will listen in if I want.” He was about to continue when Steve took off his headset, setting the jet on autopilot with the coordinates.

You snickered into the system. “Sorry Tony, Steve is cutting you off. Bye Stark.” You effectively cut Tony off and slipped the head set off, setting it aside while you leaned forward to get a better look out the window, unbuckling in the process. “You know since I have been with you Steve, I have seen things I never thought I would. Look at this.” You directed your gaze at the expanse of the sky before you, baby blue as far as the eye could see, the skyline rushing closer till the two of you crossed over the cities edged, now nothing but the Atlantic underneath you. “Beautiful.”

Steve settled back to admire what you were looking at, letting some of his worries sink to the back of his mind. “It is… sometimes I forget you haven't seen all this before.” He held out his arm for you to join him, which you pushed from your seat and settled in his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Do you remember much from the last time I showed you?”

You perch on his knee and look over the dash, worrying your lip. “Mmh barely.” Your eyes roved over the panels while Steve dragged the tip of his nose along the curve of your neck, inhaling against it and letting it settle him further. Both the man and Alpha wanted to enjoy the long flight with you.

“I guess we will be getting a crash course, Little One.” He rumbled happily while you seated yourself into a more comfortable position in his lap.

You looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes laughing at his remark and bringing the exact response he wanted. “Really Captain?”

Tightening his arm around your waist, he nipped at your lips with teasing affection. “Tony isn't the only funny one around here.”

Steve spent a few hours describing the functions and some of how to fly. Together you both got to watch the sun going down and eventually you started napping in the copilot's seat, even though Steve tried to get you to go lay down in the back.

These quiet moments, Steve wandered back to his memories, the Alpha in his mind lifting his head from the Little Wolf’s back where he had laid to rest, flicking his ears back and forth a bit at Steve’s thoughts.

The first thing that came to memory was the stinging scent of smoke.

“Rogers, don't you dare go into that building!” Fury’s voice commanded Steve who stalled in the doorway, peering into Hydras base, nose flaring trying to catch scent of their missing comrades. “You are not commander in this mission.”

“But Buck and the rest might be in there… I'm going” Steve defied Fury, darting into the darkness and out of sight, Fury's voice echoing behind him.

“ROGERS! GET YOUR ASS BACK OUT HERE!”

Steve continued forward, letting his Wolf out enough to sharpen his senses. His eyes picking up the bit of light in the darkened hallways leading deeper into the compound, his eyes glimmer dangerously in the dark looking for any sign of movement. He could sense others nearby, friend or foe though he was unsure. Footsteps silent, Steve once in a while looking behind him tense to make sure no one knew he was there. Glances in rooms showed them abandoned, cleared in a haste to get out before Shield got there Steve was sure. Ahead he heard scuffles and growls, chains clanking and the sound of voices in hushed tones. The Wolf lowered to his belly, quivering in anticipation should Steve allow him to take over. He eased the door open with a creak when relief washed over him.

There men, most of them in large cages. Familiar scents washed over him and they all perked sensing Steve.

“Rogers is that you?” Someone muttered while Steve approached, searching for a key anywhere in a nearby desk.

“Yes, the rest of the troop is just outside. We haven't found anyone though. Where is everyone?”

“Bolted man, once they heard Fury was coming they grabbed their shit and left. They didn’t have the bodies to defend this place.” Dugan responded as he pushed to the front watching while Steve searched the desk. Steve opened the last drawer, cursing as he pushed aside papers and flung them to the side. Then he was rewarded with a ring full of keys. Rushing over, the two men tried sorting through them, Steve stuffing them one by one in the locks, quick to go to the next till they found another.

“They left us and their experiments.” Dugan continued filling Steve in while he tried to find the right keys. “Some messed up stuff, they are in the next room I think.”

The Alpha rumbled to catch Steve’s attention. <Bucky isn’t with them.> The mans head whipped up while the lock clicked finally, able to pry it open and release his packmates.

“Where is Buck?”

“Bucky… he was brought in there and never came back out.” another said, pointing at the door across the room.

The Alpha rumbled suddenly in an alert and Steve tensed and whipped around when an eerily sharp howl sounded through the building. Dugan pushed the door open, tensing as well. “That's one of them, their experiments.”

Steve wrangled the keys out of the lock and started to go down the line, unlocking each cage, shifters passing him to get outside.

“Fury, you have outcoming hostages, they are friendly, don't fire.” Steve spoke into the comm.

“I hear you Rogers.” Came Fury’s voice in a wave of static. “Any unfriendlies?”

“No, Dugan notified me they all bailed once they heard we were coming” Steve responded before turning to his friend. “Dugan, get the rest out of here, I’m going to keep looking.”

His friend bared his teeth at him, bristling at the notion. “You don’t know what's back there Rogers.”

“If I have to, I will retreat, get these men out of here. I’m not leaving anyone behind.” Steve growled back deeper, the Alpha in him asserting himself and the man backed off with a disgruntled nod.

Waiting to make sure they were going to leave, Steve approached the door cautiously, using his senses to pick up what might be on the other side, who might be on the other side. He was praying for a miracle, because nothing but death filled his senses as he eyed the door, drawing in any scent left behind. It was all jumbled, multitudes of men and women have passed through the threshhold, making it almost impossible to pinpoint any specific person. “Well… let's see what's on the other side.” Steve shouldered through the door and a lab stretched before him, ominous equipment stretched on either side. A groan came from somewhere ahead and Steve paused till he heard it again. It was so distinct to him that the hair on the back of his neck prickled, the Alphas own fur raising as well along the ridge of his back, it was another Alpha, but this one they knew.

“Oh thank fucking god.” Steve uttered as he rushed forward to find Bucky strapped down and Steve started pulling at the straps holding him down. Wires were strapped all over Bucky's neck and chest and stretched to attach to some equipment, Steve started yanking them off as well when finally Bucky started to come around.

“S-Steve?” His eyes sharpened and he clutched at Steve's uniform, worried that he wasn't real.

“It’s me Buck, we’re getting out of here.” Steve tried assuring him, keeping his voice light and calm even though he was far from that. He had never seen Bucky so scared. Suddenly the howling started again from the back of the room and both men glanced that way.

“Whoever it is just keeps doing that.” Bucky muttered when a voice crackled in the comms.

“In-ing” then static sounded in Steve's ear, making him wince as he pressed his hand over his ear.

“Repeat? What was that Fury?”

“In-oming! G-t Ou-” The building started to shake and lights started zapping and popping around them.

“We ca-t hold hi-, Get O-” Fury yelled into the comm but Steve had to rip it out, electricity zapping through it and breaking it up too much. Bucky gripped Steve tighter, his pupils blown in his panic.

“What the fuck is it now?!”

“I don't know… but we gotta get out of here.” Bucky started pulling Steve towards the exit, but whatever was in the back rattled its cage with a savage snarl, and Steve couldn’t leave who ever or what ever it was behind. He stuttered to a stop, Bucky pausing at the door with a shake of his head.

“Man, we got to go… there isn't enough time.”

Steve’s hands dropped to his pants and felt madly for the keys he had stuffed in his pocket earlier. “We can’t leave him in there Buck.” He waved his hand. “Go, I got this.”

Bucky cursed but held tight, refusing to leave Steve behind.

Steve raced towards the cage to free whatever was inside, shoving the key he used before into the lock and it clicked to open. Glowering green eyes blinked at him from the shadowed part of the cage, but he couldn't make anything else out in the seconds he got the door open. Bucky was screaming his name and when he managed to get the door to swing wide, a bundle of black sprang on his chest, bared white fangs yawning open going for Steve’s throat….

“Steve- Steve?” Your voice cut through and he shook his head a bit to clear it before looking at you.

“Sorry, I thought you were sleeping Little One.”

“I was, but the computer started beeping on the dash.” You pointed to a blinking light and Steve leaned forward to check the system, smiling.

“We're here and just in time to. Look” He pointed out the window at the faint purple in the skyline, the sun easing up beyond the cloud cover to turn a brilliant red and orange of dawn. When Steve took over, he started to drop the jet down. Below the clouds the land turned a deep almost emerald wild green shimmering with mist stretching like tendrils to a spiderweb over the land, still in the early morning phase of waking up.

You weren't lying earlier when you said you saw things you had never expected. From the rainforest and safari of Wakanda to the lush greenery of Norway, you soaked it all in with awe. So long spent locked away in a room, gazing with longing at the upper windows that offered nothing more than peeks of the sky. Now you soared over the world with your Mate. Even the Little Wolf was in awe, slithering away from where the Alpha was half sleeping and prancing excitedly with joy at the adventure. The Alpha stretched out, arching his back and padded heavily after her, nuzzling her affectionately while her tail waved back and forth, unable to stay still in her excitement.

“The Little Wolf is excited.” You told Steve and he winked at you.

“I can feel it. What do you say we take her down?”

Steve easily maneuvered the Stark Jet down to land in a wide open field bordering the ocean. You followed him towards the doors swinging open and already wolves appeared from the long grass with tilted heads checking out the newcomers. You sidled up to Steve’s side a moment, watching the wolves dart back out of sight in the tall grass and heard their howls break the silence, announcing their arrival. It was a welcome sound, you couldn't detect any hostility in the notes. But their songs were so different. Sounded much older, almost like a language all its own.

Steve cupped his hand and gave a sharp “We’re here” yip, that was answered resoundingly from all around you, the pack having circled you two and remained just out of sight. His arm lowered around your shoulders and you held your breath, unsure of what to expect. A bellow came, joyful and loud as a tall blonde man, even taller than Steve stepped out, his arms opened wide in greeting.

“Why what a surprise! Are you here for the Asgard hospitality? I didn't think anything would ever get you to leave your corner in the world.” The over sized man strode towards them rather quickly, and the closer he came the more your eyes widened. You didn't think you had seen anyone who was as bigger then Steve in stature. He clasped Steve's shoulder and directed his joyful gaze down at you. “And who is this lovely maiden you bring with you?”

“If I could be there, trust me I would. This is my mate, Y/N. Y/N, this is Thor, the Alpha here.” Steve protectively wrapped an arm around you, even though you wore his mark for Thor to see, Alphas always had a bit of tension between them no matter how much their human counterparts tried to quell it.

Thor though seemed unaware of such a vibe as he beamed down at you warmly. “Well Little Pup, welcome to Asgard.” He took your hand in a vigorous pump and you couldn't help but warm right up to him and his exuberant nature. “We run free and feast like we are in the halls of the Old Kings here.” He swept the both of you down the path and all around his wolves started to howl and dance in a joyful manner, playing among each other much like they were participating in the Full Moon Run. “Now Rogers does tell me what has been going on across the water? It's been a while since I've visited there.”

“Afraid we have been having some issues.” Steve started, filling Thor in on the recent attacks, taking apart the packs and capturing the Alpha’s. The viciousness in the attacks and the destruction left behind. Thor listened patiently until Steve mentioned Hydra. That's when he paused, you and Steve having taken a few steps ahead but noticed he wasn't with you. You turned to see him glowering.

“That's why you are here, Rogers, isn't it? Because of Hydra. He wont talk to you about it you know.”

Steve sighed and you had a sinking feeling about the situation, not fully understanding what was going on.

“I have to try Thor, your brother was the only one who was able to break from the collars power and the mind shit Hydra does to their victims.”

“He barely interacts with any of us Steve, he mostly stays as his animal out there.” Thor retorted, the sky started to darken slightly and you frowned to yourself at the sudden change in atmosphere while glancing up.

Steve sighed, letting his arms hang loose at his sides to show Thor he was no threat to him. “I know Odinson, trust me. I wouldn’t be here if there was any other way. Packs, families are all being killed off, Alphas removed. How long till you think it will be till it comes over here?” Steve pointed out and Thor’s face twisted and he looked away.

“It won’t be like before, I won’t let it.”

“You don't know that… Shield risked sending the Howling Commando’s over here to help your people, now I’m asking for your help. Just let me try talking to him?”

Your heart twisted as you saw Thor try to control his emotions on his face and you reached out to touch his arm, Steve for once kept quiet, inhaling deeply to keep himself in check. “Hydra really hurt him, didn't they? If it's too much we will just leave. Right Steve?”

“If you tell me absolutely not Thor, she’s right. We will leave right now and not bother you again.”

Thor glanced back at you, his eyes searching yours and you could see everything he was doing was about protecting this person. You bit at your lip nervously, you knew you were invading this Alpha’s space but stepped in closer anyways. “Please let us try? We just want to save those we still have left. Our packmates are fighting a losing battle with Hydra, we don't want to lose them.”

A sigh escaped the man and he glanced over your head to Steve. “You're lucky you have her you know… she’s softened me. Slightly.” You stepped back towards Steve, who now laid his hand around your waist, chuckling softly.

“You really don’t know half of it, she has a gift.” You wriggled in his hold a bit but he just tightened his fingers against you. “Thank you Thor for letting us try.”

He shrugged at you both with a shake of his head. “I'm still saying that he wont talk to you, but I will show you where he stays when he is not hunting.”

Steve gave a nod of appreciation while you reached for his hand and gave a light squeeze. “Thank you Thor.” You gave your own sentiments.

The man looked at the two of you a moment, his eyes falling to your linked hands and motioned across the moors. “This way…” He cupped his hands, giving another howling song and the wolves joined them, spreading around Thor, these wolves were even larger than Mountain Packs wolves, giant beasts that were moving gracefully around there Alpha. You could feel the ground beneath your footfalls vibrating from there movements, the lush grass swishing to add to the melody of it all. Above them the thunder still rumbled with strong booms that cackled with electricity but had retreated from the fierceness it had flared up earlier.

Your Little Wolf kneaded her paws next to the Alpha, lifting her head to inhale the air around them, it spoke of a wildness she was not used to. Something feral that did not adhere to normal pack constraints. The Alpha rumbled next to her, now and then dropping his muzzle to his mate to reassure her, but the pull to shift for both of them was strong.

You could tell Steve felt it as well, the way he angled his body close to yours in a protective manner, his hand moving from a simple hold to pressing against your hip, wrapping around you. You tilted your head up towards Steve, your confusion clouding your features. He dropped his head to press a nip to your neck, whispering softly just for you. “I will explain later.”

Thor paused in front of a wood that looked ancient, the gnarled trees had stories to tell. Shadows played deeper beyond the edge, enticing you to wander in. Your Little Wolf huffed slightly, breaking the enchantment you had fallen into.

<This isn't just a forest Y/N, something powerful lives here.> Her ears flattened and you could feel her unease and the Alpha’s wariness sharpening, his ears pricked forward before twisting listening.

What is it? You questioned your Little Wolf and she whined unsure. You felt the Alpha slip away, in the same moment Steve tilted his face up, his nostrils flaring. You knew he was scenting for any kind of danger that might come from the old forest.

Next to you Thor boomed out loudly, making it echo. “Come out Loki!” You and the Little Wolf perked, hearing the woods shift and groan, shadows danced closer when a streamlined black shadow emerged to turn solid, the beast was streamlined. His size shifting to grow larger in the presence of you and Steve, a sharp pointed muzzle turned towards you and ears twitched with interest as he took you both in. You were a bit taken aback when you saw Loki, but he paused just after the forest ended and you could see the tip of his nose twitching, green eyes with almost emerald qualities glinting with the bit of light that somehow seemed to filter from the thunderous clouds still rumbling above you.

What do we have here? An omega to Rogers? A true Omega? Oh what a prize he really does have here. I wonder if he knows… A voice tickled your senses and the Little Wolf spun in your mind, searching for the intrusion. The Alpha returned to the Little Wolf, curling around her with a growl and a laugh echoed through you, not one that belonged to you.

“Steve…” You whined a bit and he furrowed his brow looking at you, confused as well as to what was going on, feeling you through your bond.

“Rogers is here to talk with you Loki, come out and quit playing games Brother.” Thor folded muscular arms across his chest and the black canine shimmered an emerald green while disappearing in a wisp of shadow and a sharp yip barking out from nowhere.

A resounding defiant No.

Thor shook his head at Steve. “Loki won't interact with Alphas short of me Steve, not since Shield pulled him from Hydra.”

The Little Wolf unweaved from the Alpha when she heard Thor.

Steve would never allow us to go in there alone.

<It's the only way, Loki won't talk to Steve. He's too much of a threat to him. Say something, that big Alpha doesn't seem scared that Loki will hurt us.>

You took a deep breath and while Thor and Steve discussed other options, you turned to the men, catching there attention. “Let me go in and talk to him.” Steve immediately barked out a no, but Thor tilted his head, considering what you were saying. “I'm not an Alpha, he won't be threatened by me, right Thor?” You pressed for an answer from the man and he nodded.

“Your Little Pup has a point, Rogers. Loki wouldn't hurt her. I will escort her inside so she’s protected the whole way.”

Steve felt his chest expand as he drew up to his full height. “I'm not letting Y/N go in by herself, I know you trust your brother, but I don't.” His eyes flared yellow, the Alpha close to the surface with concerns of your safety. You could see that he was winding up to call all this off when you reached up to grasp his face between your palms, tilting his head to look directly at you.

“Alpha trust me, I know I can do this.” You stressed to him, the furrow in his forehead deepening as you knew he was at war with himself. “If anything is wrong, I will call you. Let me do this.” His hands circled your wrists and you felt that war inside of him. The same one where it was ingrained in him to keep you safe at all costs. It was all right there, flooding through the bond you two shared, your confidence, his worry. Steve huffed slightly before lifting his gaze from yours.

“Thor, give me a moment with my mate please.” Steve requested and Thor moved away, closer towards the border of his brother’s forest, his broad back turned towards the two of you while he waited. “Little One, if something happens. Loki isn't a normal wolf…”

“I could tell that as soon as we came near here.” You let your fingers press through his beard on his cheeks and slide down to his neck, sure to rub his scent against you in the process as well as sharing calming touches. “But he has the answers we need, Alpha.”

Steve knew you were right, but the inner battle was fierce. The Alpha wanted to protect his mate, an animalistic need to not let you go into that forest, every fiber of his being was on edge because of it. His human side knew you could do this and get the answer to save their pack mates. You were confident, he needed to trust you like you asked.

<Don't you let her go in there with that Alpha. What is Loki going to do to stop us.>

Loki is not all Wolf as you well know, he won't tolerate the intrusion.

The Alpha bristled aggressively, licking his muzzle over and over nervously. <We won't be there to protect her should he turn on her.>

But Thor will be… You know as much as I do that he wouldn't let any get hurt in his care.

“Trust me Alpha.” Your fingers trailed along the mark you had left on him, your mark that made him belong to you. The most sacred of bonds a mated pair could share and made in the utmost trust that you two would take care of each other.

She is asking us to trust her. If we can’t trust in our mate, then what hope do we have? Steve was firm and the Alpha had to concede to him.

Steve moved his hands to your face, cupping the most important part of his life gently in his palms as he inhaled deeply and tipped his forehead against yours. “Little One, if anything happens, anything at all, call for me. I will come get you.”

The corners of your mouth lifted and he saw it go to your eyes, pride and strength that your Alpha was trusting you to go in his place. “Of course Alpha.” You lifted to catch his lips, nuzzling your nose against his. “I know you will come for me if I need you.” You embraced him fiercely, Steve let his nose bury in the crown of your head and then let you go against his instincts. The Wolf rumbled, anxious as he paced watching you reach Thor. His eyes reached the other Alphas. “Thor…”

“I understand what is at stake. No harm will come to her, I swear it.”

You looked so tiny next to the man, your head tilted up to look at him with a warm smile and Thor's tilted down to look back at you. Steve watched the same warm smile cross Thor's face, making your mate proud of you, how easily you had already won Thor over. You had come so far from the runaway he first met and your warmth spread so easily to those around you. Maybe Loki wouldn't be immune to you.

The moment you stepped into the forest with Thor, it darkened. Looking over your shoulder, the emerald green sea of the moor was almost a picture racing away to be enclosed by old tree trunks. You licked your lips nervously and folded your arms around your body, sure to keep up with Thor. He was confident in his strides, the darkening vibrant woods was just as much home for him as the windswept open land you two left behind.

The Little Wolf was curious in the new surroundings, pacing and keeping a keen eye on everything you were hurriedly passing by trying to keep up with Thor.

You weren't wrong that the forest had a life all its own. It seemed to breathe around you, moss stretched across large boulders that sprang tendrils of plant life curling upwards to try and reach sunlight. Heavy thick trees were bristling against your palm and almost seemed to heave in sighs at your gentle touch. Thor glanced back at you, golden tendrils clinging to his face now and his eyes crinkled in watching you loosen from your fear into awe.

“You feel it, right?” He chuckled and you withdrew your hand from the tree back to your body.

“What do you mean?”

“Its soul, the magic in it all.” He braced against a tree and inhaled deeply. “All of this is very alive as you and I, it's old and has been standing long before we claimed this as home.”

You tentatively touched a nearby tree again, feeling tingles in your palms, making you shudder a bit. “It is certainly… like home, but not quite.”

Thor nodded with a wink. “Still a baby over there, your packs are just starting to write the stories that will live on after you are gone. One day they will have a life of their own, just like this one.”

Your brows quirked at his words. He's a funny man isn't he.

Your Little Wolf curled her tail around herself as she sat down. <He is, but I like him. This place feels like we belong here.>

There does seem to be a certain calling to be here…

You two continued on and you risked another statement. “Loki is not like you, is he?”

Thor shook his head. “No, he is not. But you have no need to worry Little Wolf.” He paused while he glanced around, inhaling sharply. “It's just me and Y/n, Brother, come out of hiding.”

“I'm not hiding, I can't help that you are not a more observant Brother.” A cool voice came from above and your eyes shot up to a long legged man lounging in the branches, looking almost like he couldn't be bothered. Thor snorted impatiently and motioned towards you.

“Y/N has some questions for you.”

Vivid green eyes fell on you and a cool grin formed as he moved to sit up and slide down. He walked in such a predatory way, almost circling you. The Little Wolf's hackles raised at him and you hitched yourself straighter. You felt that tingle in your mind again.

Why is it your Alpha is sending you in here for Omega? My brother is right, you are just a little pup aren’t you, so new to the world...

You snarled out loud, glaring at him. “You are not welcome in my mind, and I’m no pup.” And a quick withdrawal left you and Little Wolf alone once more. You could feel your Alphas curling warmth in your mind, even if he couldn't be with you.

Respect crossed Loki's features and he bowed his head. “Forgive my intrusion. It's not often I'm sought out, except by Thor that is.” Thor barked out a deep bellowing laugh, clasping your shoulder.

“You can't use your tricks on this one, she is small but fierce. Her Alpha has great respect for her.”

Loki gave a slight sniff, his green eyes sliding over you as he remarked. “I’m afraid you are right.”

You shrugged out of Thor’s grasp now, wanting the answers you came for. “Loki, our packmates have been collared by Hydra. Steve seems to think that you know how to break from their control. Please, is there any way to break the hold they have on them.” Loki suddenly appeared next to you, his fingers catching a lock of your hair and pressing it between his fingers for a moment as if further inspecting you. You jumped and pulled away from him, making Thor growl a warning at him. But you narrowed your gaze at him, knowing well that he was testing you. You had seen it all before while living with Pierce. “Don't touch me Loki, only Steve is allowed to. How did you do that anyways, appear next to me?”

His fingers swirled slightly, green wisps dancing around his nimble long fingers. “Magic Dear. I'm part Coyote, a Trickster. Sure your Alpha told you?”

You shook your head. “No… He doesn't talk much about his life in Shield.” Your Little Wolf crooned in comfort, knowing sometimes you were worried about how he would be so vague about it.

“Well it was a dark time for the shifters.” Loki admitted and glanced at his brother. “I don't much like discussing that time either.” You clenched your jaw a moment, worried he was going to flat out refuse your requests but he dipped his head. “But for you Dear, you boldly come out here without your Alpha, that deserves to have your questions answered. Come…” He beckoned to you and led you away, Thor was not far behind. Soon a small dwelling came into view and the door yawned open, which Loki stepped in.

Inside was different from what you were expecting. Books lined shelves upon shelves, seeming to go on forever. Plush chairs were dotted near a fireplace and wooden carvings dotted the entire area. Wood shavings littered the floor, making you smile a bit because it reminded you of your Alpha, the fresh wood scent enveloping you. The place was cozy, almost like something from a story book. Of course, this whole experience was making you feel that way, like some sort of fairytale your mother would have told you before bed. Thor heavily fell into a nearby chair, quiet as his brother waved at a seat in offering to you.

Loki approached a shelf and whispered under his breath till a box fell into his hands. Easing it open, he pulled out a collar. Silver strands weaved together into an intricate design. “This one was mine, but it stopped working on me after a time. So it was just useless metal. Why Hydra had kept me caged when Steve found me.” He handed it to you and you were caught by surprise at how light it was. Studying it closer, you could see twists of coarse black fur wedged through it where it sat on Loki’s neck.

“Why did it stop working?” You asked curiously and Loki settled down in one of the seats.

“Simple, I willed for my freedom. Most of the wolves have such a strong desire to follow an Alpha. Even the Alphas themselves can be forced to follow a stronger one should they come across one. Hydra didn't know I wasn't a Wolf, not completely. I can't be controlled in the same way for long. But it's that simple in how to get your wolves back. Your Alpha has to challenge them for control. Assert that he is stronger than the one controlling them with the collars.”

You handed his collar back to him and Loki flicked his wrist to send it back to the box, the box flashing away in the same green blaze you had seen earlier. “That's all it takes?” You asked incredulously. Loki shrugged with a nod.

“Hydra though is led by someone who has a power that no Wolf should have. It's how they are able to control such a large and secret organization for such a long time. But such power can always be challenged.” He drifted off, looking away into the fire he had burning in the fireplace.

You let the silence sit for a few moments before speaking up.

“Why wouldn't you talk to Steve?”

Loki gave a slight roll of eyes. “I don't care for Alpha’s, they always feel the need to challenge and dominate. I've dealt with that enough in my life. I choose to live on the edges of my own Pack, still a member should Thor need my assistance and the rest leave me in peace.”

“Then why me? You seemed interested in me being an Omega.” The Little Wolf stopped her pacing for just a moment, head tilted in curiosity.

“Because true Omegas do not need to dominate or be controlled by anyone.” Loki turned towards you, his head tilting into your direction. “You might always submit to your Alpha, but that's a choice you and your wolf make together, consciously or not. If you were to ever truly want to defy him, you easily could. It's why you were able to make me leave when I was exploring your mind.” You rolled your eyes a bit at the trickster, clearly not believing him. A life time of being made to submit to Pierce against your will and the recent incidents with Steve... you felt he had you mistaken. “ You can roll your eyes at me all you want Little Pup, but I know what I’m talking about. Omega’s can be a threat to Alpha’s or for the right one, there everything. Really depends on the Alpha they are connected to. So I like you Little Omega, you are a challenge for me.” He winked and you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile you gave to him. After all was said and done, you liked the Trickster.

“Is there anything else you can tell me? How did you get the collar off?” You asked and Loki motioned towards Thor.

“That was me. After Fury contacted me that Loki was with the Howling Commando’s Unit, I went to bring him home. I can provide you two with a special knife made to deal with unnatural made materials.” Loki rubbed at his face and his front door sprang open, a rush of air billowing into the dwelling.

“Now I have answered your questions Omega, I can feel your Alpha pacing my border anxious. It's getting on my nerves. Return to him so he can settle back down.”

You nodded, letting your senses open a bit and sure enough Steve was anxious, although far physically, you could feel him. Nodding as you approached Loki, you held out your hand to him. He eyed it a moment, and then slid his own in yours respectfully to give a shake. “Perhaps soon we will cross paths again, Little Omega.”

“Perhaps we will Trickster.” You bid a final goodbye and now you left a bit more at ease, having the information you and Steve needed to save your family.

#alpha steve x little one #alpha steve rogers #the pack #attack of the winter wolf #shifters fan fiction #marvel au #wolf fan fiction #captain america fan fiction #amber writes #sweater writes #steve rogers au

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