#finally back in a place mentally to take selfies

[lisasmuts]

Unforgettable

Rosie x male reader

4.6k words

( Photoshoot filled with cum shoot )

(A/N - on the request of @matthewwwsblog, although please ignore mistakes and flaws made it while being sickk🤧🤧🤧.)

On a busy street as Rosie was walking down it, a the stranger suddenly kissed Rosie with growing fervor, his hands roamed her curves, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from her. The passion between them palpable, and he could feel the tension building in Rosie. Reluctantly, Rosie broke the kiss, a coy smile playing on her lips.

“My, My. You’re a certainly hungry fan,”

She purred, her voice dripping with seduction. With a playful wink, she hugs him, her hands roaming his masculine figure.

“Well then, mr. stranger.”

Rosie said, her Australian accent adding an extra layer of allure to her words.

“Why don’t we take this back to your place? I’ll be glad to be all yours for the night.”

She reached out a hand, silently beckoning him to follow as she sashayed the streets, her hips swaying with each step. The anticipation was palpable, and he eagerly cope up with Rosie and then lead the way, eager to indulge in a night of passion and pleasure.

As soon as they reached his home, Rosie’s pent up desire could no longer be contained. The moment the door closed behind them, she jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. Rosie’s lips crashed onto his in a hungry, passionate kiss, her tongue exploring his mouth with fervent need.

Breaking the kiss, Rosie gazed up at him with lust-filled eyes.

“I can’t wait anymore,”

She growled, her voice dripping with raw want.

“Start fucking me, now!”

Without another word, Rosie swiftly removed her clothes, tossing them aside carelessly. She then hooked her fingers into the waistband of his shorts, yanking them down with urgency.

The two lovers were soon a tangle of naked limbs, their bodies pressed together as they gave in to their carnal desires.

As the passionate night drew to a close, he finally reached his climax, filling Rosie’s eager body with his hot release. Rosie’s eyes widened with delight as she felt him pulsing inside her, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.

“Mmmm, that’s what I needed,”

She purred, nuzzling against his chest.

Just then, Rosie’s phone began to ring. Reluctantly pulling herself away from his embrace, she checked the caller id and her face lit up.

“It’s my manager!”

She exclaimed, quickly answering the call.

“Hello? Yes, yes of course, I’ll be there. Thank you!”

Ending the call, Rosie turned towards the stranger, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“I have a photoshoot for skims today! I need to get going, but I had such an amazing time with you”

She leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before begrudgingly starting to gather her clothes. Rosie’s body was still flushed from their lovemaking, and he could see the satisfaction radiating from her.

Few hours later, Rosie stood in front of the vanity mirror inside her spacious photoshoot van, admiring her reflection. The tight, white dress she had chosen clung to her curves in all the right places, accentuating her slim waist and toned legs. As she turned this way and that, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence and pride.

“Wow, I look absolutely stunning.”

She murmured to herself, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. Reaching for her phone, Rosie snapped a few quick mirror selfies, capturing the way the dress hugged her body in all the right ways. Slipping the phone back into her purse, Rosie took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the upcoming photoshoot. She knew the skim team would be expecting nothing less than perfection, and she was determined to deliver. With her radiant beauty and impeccable fashion sense, Rosie was confident she would knock this shoot out of the park.

Rosie’s thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the van door. Taking one last look in the mirror, she straightened her shoulders and opened the door, ready to face the day’s challenges with her signature poise and grace.

Upon reaching the skim photoshoot set, Rosie was informed that she would need to change into the pink outfit instead of the one she had initially chosen. A slight look of surprise crossed her face, but she quickly composed herself.

“Alright, everyone, please look away while I change.”

Rosie announced, her voice carrying an edge of authority. As the crew dutifully turned around, you one of the camera operators couldn’t resist sneaking a peek, your eyes hungrily roaming over Rosie’s figure as she began disrobing.

Rosie caught the sly glance and a mischievous smile played on her lips. Deciding to put on a show, she slowly peeled off the tight white dress, deliberately drawing out the process and ensuring that you got an eyeful. Once she had changed into the pink outfit, Rosie struck a series of alluring poses, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places.

“Alright, you can all turn around now,”

Rosie called out, her tone dripping with a hint of satisfaction. As the crew faced her once more, Rosie couldn’t help but a feel of surge of power, knowing she had successfully caught you in the act and turned the situation to her advantage.

As the crew began the photoshoot, Rosie seized the opportunity to tease you subtly. Between poses, she would steal glances in your direction, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous gleam. Whenever the remaining’s back were turned, roise would seize the chance to wink at you coyly, her full lips curving into a coy smile.

At one point, as the crew adjusted the lighting, Rosie discreetly ran her hands down the sides of her body, caressing the curves of her hips in a way that was clearly meant for your eyes only. She arched her back slightly, pushing out her chest in a way that accentuated her ample bust, all the while maintaining a professional demeanor for the camera.

Throughout the shoot, Rosie continued to find subtle ways to tease and entice you, her actions just subtle enough to avoid detection by the rest of the crew. It was clear she was relishing the opportunity to put on a private show, her gaze locked with yours as she exuded an aura of sultry confidence.

After the completion of the shoot, she heads towards back.

As Rosie sashayed back to her vanity van, she discreetly slipped a folded piece of paper into your hand. Your heart raced with anticipation as you unfolded the note, revealing Rosie’s private vanity number and a tantalizing invitation. Unable to contain your excitement, you quickly approached the crew head and requested a brief break, citing a personal matter.

With a nod, the crew head granted your request, allowing you the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. Your feet practically carried you to Rosie’s vanity van, the anticipation building with each step. Reaching the door, you took a deep breath and knocked, eager to see what delights awaited you inside.

The door swung open, and there stood Rosie, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Without a word, she grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you inside, the door slamming shut behind you. The two of you were finally alone, free to indulge in your desires without prying eyes.

Rosie’s teasing gaze pierced through you as she chided you playfully.

“Tsk tsk, someone couldn’t follow my simple instructions earlier, hmm?”

Her voice dripped with a sultry tone that sent shivers down your spine.

Before you could even stammer a response, Rosie pulled you into a searing, passionate kiss. Her soft lips molded against yours as her tongue danced with yours in a heated exploration. Your body responded instantly, craving more of her touch.

Breaking the kiss, Rosie gazed at you with hooded eyes, her voice low and seductive.

“Fuck me, y/n. I can’t wait any longer to have you ravage me.”

Without waiting for your reply, she captured your lips again, the urgency in her kiss leaving you breathless and aching with desire. You knew in that moment you were powerless to resist her allure. This was going to be a photoshoot full of unbridled passion and pleasure.

Rosie hurriedly sank to her knees, her fingers deftly unfastening your belt and lowering your pants and boxers. Your eager cock spang free, bouncing against her face, and she let out a delighted laugh.

“Oooh, someone’s excited,”

She purred, biting her lip seductively.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to love getting destroyed by this cock.”

Without further delay, Rosie parted her lips and took your throbbing length into her warm, wet mouth. She began bobbing her head back and forth, her tongue swirling and caressing your shaft. Her hands worked the remainder of your cock that couldn’t fit in her mouth, stroking and teasing you relentlessly.

The sensation of her skilled mouth and deft fingers was overwhelming, and you knew this was going to be an unforgettable experience. Rosie was clearly intent on fulfilling her promise to ravage you, and you were powerless to resist the allure.

As Rosie’s skilled mouth worked your throbbing length, you could feed the intense pleasure building within you. However, you held back, not wanting to be too rough or cause any harm to the famous idol. But Rosie had other plans.

Between hungry sucks, she gazed up at you with hooded eyes, her voice dripping with filthy words.

“Come on, y/n…. don’t hold back. I want you to ravage me, to use me like the plaything I am.”

She punctuated her words with a particularly hard suck, her tongue swirling around your sensitive tip.

“Forget that I’m some big idol. Right now, I’m just your dirty little slut, begging to be used,”

Rosie panted, her hands stroking your shaft in time with her bobbing head.

“So stop holding back and give me what I want. Destroy me, y/n!”

Her lewd encouragement and wanton display of desire were too much to resist. Throwing caution to the wind, you gripped Rosie’s hair and began thrusting into her mouth, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure.

As you surrendered to your primal urges, you began to fuck Rosie’s mouth with reckless abandon. She relaxed her jaw, allowing you more room to thrust your throbbing length deep into her throat. Rosie’s skilled ministrations were relentless, her throat constricting around your cock, sending waves of exquisite pleasure through your body.

Sensing your impending climax, Rosie hummed around your shaft, her eyes practically begging you to release your load deep inside her.

“Is it okay if you cum in my mouth, y/n?”

She managed to gasp between thrusts.

You didn’t need to be asked twice. With a guttural groan, you felt your cock twitch and pulse as you erupted, filling Rosie’s throat with your hot, thick seed. She swallowed eagerly, milking every last drop from you as you rode out intense waves of your orgasm.

As the last drops of your seed drained into Rosie’s eager mouth, she lapped them up hungrily, savoring every last taste. With a tantalizing flourish, she opened her mouth wide, showing you the fruits of her efforts – not a single drop remained.

Rosie’s eyes sparkled with wanton desire as she took your softening cock back into her mouth, gently cleaning it with a series of slow, sensual sucks. Her gaze remained locked with yours, silently communicating her insatiable craving for more.

“Mmm, you taste so good, y/n.”

She purred, her voice dripping with filthy delight.

“I could drink your cum all day long. But I’m not with you yet…”

Releasing your shaft with an audible pop, Rosie rose to her feet, her movements lithe and graceful. Reaching down, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of her short, slowly peeling the fabric away to reveal her glistening, dripping pussy.

“Now, it’s your turn to satisfy me,”

She breathed, her hips swaying invitingly.

“I need you inside me, y/n. Make me your dirty little plaything.”

Rosie’s eyes widened slightly at your hesitation, as you reminded the time left that is 5 minutes, but she quickly reassured you with a mischievous laugh.

“Don’t worry, y/n. I can pleasure you so much that you’ll be done in just 2 minutes.”

She teased, her voice dripping with confidence.

Your brow furrowed at her mockery, and before she could react, you brought your hand down in a firm slap against her ample ass cheeks. Rosie let out a surprised gasp, but her eyes sparkled with excitement as you aligned your throbbing cock with her glistening dripping pussy.

“Look at how much you’re dripping, you dirty little slut,”

You growled, positioning yourself at her entrance.

“And for a stranger’s cock, no less.”

Rosie whimpered needily, her hips bucking against you.

“Then stop teasing and fuck me already, y/n.”

She begged, her voice laced with wanton desire.

With a feral growl, you gripped her hips and thrust forward, burying your entire length inside her tight, welcoming pussy. Rosie cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain as you stretched her beyond her limits, setting a relentless pace that left her breathless.

“I tell you bitch, I won’t be done in 2 minutes,”

You warned, your fingers digging into her flesh as you pounded into her without mercy.

“Get ready to be thoroughly used, you insatiable whore.”

As you pounded into Rosie’s tight, welcoming pussy, she cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Her filthy comments spilled from her lips, spurring you on.

“Yes, y/n! fuck me harder, ruin me for anyone else!”

Rosie begged.

“I’m your dirty little slut, use me however you want!”

Your grip on her hips tightened as you drove into her relentlessly, determined to thoroughly satisfy your carnal desires. Rosie’s cries of ecstasy echoed through the confines of the vanity van, her body writhing beneath yours.

“That’s it, y/n! destroy my pussy, make it yours!”

She moaned, her eyes alight with wanton need.

“I can’t get enough of your cock, it feels so good!”

Your primal grunts and the obscene sounds of your bodies colliding filled the air as you chased your shared release. Rosie’s insatiable hunger only fueled your own, driving you to new heights of passion and depravity.

As the sound of a subtle knock on the vanity van door reached your ears, Rosie’s eyes widened. She quickly shouted,

“I’m coming!”

Before turning to you.

“y/n, we need to finish up the shoot first. But I just can’t get enough of your cock,”

She panted, her voice dripping with need. Rosie hastily began redressing, her movements hurried yet graceful.

Unable to resist, you delivered a hard spank to her ample ass, leaving a clear handprint on her flesh which left out of her dress. The fabric of her outfit strained to contain her curves.

“See, you haven’t even come close to finishing me off. And it’s been what, five minutes? Stupid slut.”

You mocked.

Rosie let out a breathless laugh.

“That’s okay, y/n. It just means I get to enjoy your cock even more times,”

She purred, winking slyly.

Growling, you spanked her other cheek, imprinting your hand mark on her other ass cheek.

“That’s right, you filthy public use whore. This body belongs to me now.”

Rosie shivered with delight, her eyes sparkling with wanton desire.

“I can’t wait, y/n.”

She breathed, before slipping out of the van to return to the photoshoot, leaving you aching to ravage her again.

As you returned to the set, the crew head quickly directed you back to your photography duties. Rosie, ever the professional, carried on with the photoshoot seamlessly. However, in the midst of the session, she would subtly wink in your direction, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Rosie’s expressions grew increasingly provocative, her gaze smoldering as she mouthed filthy words that only you could see. She arched her back, her movements dripping with wanton sexuality.

Though the rest of the crew remained oblivious, you could feel the heat of her desire radiating towards you. Rosie was putting on a private show, teasing and tempting you with her shameless display of lust.

Your fingers tightened around the camera, struggling to maintain your composure as you captured her alluring form. The anticipation of what was to come once you were alone with her again was nearly unbearable. Rosie had awakened a primal hunger withing you, and you knew there would be no resisting her seductive siren’s call.

As the photoshoot wrapped up, the crew head granted Rosie a brief 5 – minutes break. However, the idol had a more salacious idea in mind. Beckoning you over, Rosie led you to a chair and table area, out of direct sight of the crew.

Discreetly, she slid her hand under your pants, her fingers wrapping around your cock in slow, sensual strokes. You couldn’t help but moan softly at her touch.

“You’re loving this public setting, aren’t you?”

Rosie teased, her voice dripping with wicked delight.

“The risk of getting caught….”

She let out a soft laugh, her eyes sparkling.

“I have to admit, I’m loving it too. My pussy is dripping just thinking about it.”

Your breath caught in your throat as she continued her tantalizing ministrations, the threat of discovery only heightening the thrill. Rosie was clearly intent on pushing the boundaries, her insatiable desire overriding any concerns. This was going to be a daring and unforgettable encounter.

As the crew head’s shout echoed, Rosie’s pace quickened. Her strokes grew faster and more urgent, her grip tightening around your throbbing length. Sensing your impending release, she hurriedly freed your cock from your pants and engulfed it in her warm, wet mouth.

Rosie’s skilled tongue swirled and caressed your sensitive flesh as you erupted, filling her mouth with your hot, thick seed. She swallowed greedily, not spilling a single drop, her eyes locked with yours the entire time.

The risk of discovery only heightened the intensity of the moment, Rosie’s wanton hunger fueling your own. When she had drained you completely, she pulled back, licking her lips with a satisfied smile.

“Mmm, delicious as always.”

She purred, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Now hurry, I have to get back before they start to wonder where I am.”

With a final, playful wink, Rosie rose from her seat and sauntered back to the set.

Upon finishing the next shoot Rosie got a long break, you both hurried to her vanity van.

As soon as you and Rosie hurried into the vanity van, the urgency of your desire took over. Without hesitation, you pinned her against the wall, swiftly removing her delicate pink outfit. Rosie’s eyes gleamed with wanton anticipation as she gazed up at you.

“Get ready, slut.”

You growled, your voice dripping with primal hunger.

“Now you’re done for the rest of your shoot.”

With a feral roar, you thrust your throbbing cock deep inside Rosie’s welcoming pussy, immediately setting a punishing, brutal pace. Her cries of ecstasy spurred you on, the threat of discovery only heightening the intensity of your coupling.

“Yes, y/n! Use me, destroy me!”

Rosie moaned, her nails raking down on the vanity wall.

“I’m your filthy slut, your plaything to use however you want!”

The obscene sounds of your bodies colliding filled the confines of the vanity van as you ruthlessly claimed Rosie’s willing form. Her insatiable desire matched your own, driving you both to new heights of carnal bliss.

As you continued your relentless pace, Rosie’s cries of ecstasy grew louder. Between gasps, she admitted,

“Yes, y/n! I have such a praise kink. I need you to tell me how much of a filthy slut I am!”

Growling with primal desire, you obliged, your words dripping with lust.

“That’s right, you dirty whore. You love being used as my personal fuck toy, don’t you? Your greedy little pussy is made to be ravaged by my cock.”

Rosie shuddered with delight, her walls clenching around you ass you brutalized her. She moaned wantonly, urging you on.

“Yes, y/n! I’m your insatiable slut, your personal cum dumpster. Destroy me, make me yours!”

Your pace grew even more punishing, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing through the van. Rosie’s praises only fueled your animalistic hunger, driving you to claim every inch of her willing body.

Your grip on Rosie tightened as you continued your brutal assault, your words dripping with dominance and depravity.

“That’s it, you filthy slut. Take my cock like the greedy whore you are. Your needy little pussy was made to be stuffed and stretched by my thick shaft.”

Rosie’s cries of ecstasy grew more frantic, her walls clenching around you as you ruthlessly claimed her body.

“Yes, y/n! I’m your insatiable cum dumpster, your personal fuck toy. pound me harder, use me until I can’t walk straight!”

Your primal grunts and the obscene sounds of your coupling filled the air as you chased your shared release. Rosie’s wanton need only fueled your own, driving you to new heights of carnal bliss.

“Good girl, take every inch of my cock. You’re such a dirty, cock-hungry bitch – my dirty little slut.”

Rosie’s eyes rolled back in her head, her body trembling with unbridled pleasure. She was completely at your mercy, reveling in the humiliation and degradation you heaped upon her.

Rosie’s shameless pleas for harder, faster pounding only served to stoke your domineering lust. You sneered down at her, your grip tightening painfully on her hips.

“Look at you, you filthy slut. Is this what you crave? To be used and abused like the cheap whore you are?”

You spat, your hips snapping forward with brutal force.

Rosie’s eyes rolled back, her mouth agape in a wordless scream of ecstasy.

“Yes, y/n! treat me like the dirty cum rag I am! I need your cock to ruin me!”

Your lips curled in a cruel smirk as you mercilessly pounded into her quivering pussy.

“That’s right, beg for it you insatiable cock-hungry bitch. You’ll take every last inch until you can’t walk straight.”

The van echoed with the obscene sounds of your coupling, Rosie’s wanton cries only spurring you on to new heights of depravity. You would leave her a trembling, used-up mess, a testament to your dominance.

As you pounded into Rosie’s quivering pussy with relentless force, she suddenly cried out,

“y/n, I’m going to cum!”

Without hesitation, you growled,

“No, you don’t. hold it in, slut.”

To your amazement, Rosie’s body immediately obeyed your command, despite the desperation written across her face. Her walls clenched around you, fighting against the impending orgasm, yet her mind was at war with her traitorous flesh.

“No, please! I need to cum so badly!”

She begged, her voice laced with frustration. But her pussy remained stubbornly clamped down on your thrusting cock, denying her own release.

You let out a triumphant laugh, marveling at how completely you had conquered Rosie’s body.

“Look at you, my little cum-hungry whore, trying so hard to disobey me. But your body knows who its true master is now, doesn’t it?”

Rosie whimpered in defeat, her eyes glistening with tears of unfulfilled ecstasy. She was utterly at your mercy, her very orgasm now subject to your command. This was the true extent of your dominance over her insatiable desires.

For the next one or two hours, you relentlessly pounded into Rosie’s quivering pussy, your command over her body absolute and unwavering. Despite her desperate pleas and shamelessly begging to be allowed release, you denied her every time, edging her mercilessly.

Rosie’s eyes glistened with tears of unfulfilled ecstasy, her body trembling with the strain of holding back her orgasm. Yet she remained powerless to disobey your orders, her very climax now subject to your whims.

“Please, y/n! I need to cum so badly,”

She whimpered, her voice laced with frustration.

“I’m your dirty slut, your personal cum-hungry whore. Let me have my release!”

You merely laughed, reveling in your total dominance over her.

“Not a chance, you filthy bitch. Your orgasm belongs to me now. You’ll take your pleasure only when I say so.”

Rosie’s cries of anguish only fueled your triumphant ardor, driving you to claim every inch of her defeated form. She was utterly at your mercy, her body betraying the very desires of her mind.

“Look at you, my little slut, so desperate to cum. But your traitorous flesh knows who its true master is. You’re nothing but a receptacle for my cock now.”

Rosie whimpered in submission, her pride shattered by your cruel words and unyielding control. She was yours to use and abuse as you saw fit, her very being consumed by your primal lust.

As you continued your relentless assault, Rosie’s entire being seemed to well with pride at being your plaything, your personal receptacle for pleasure. She cried out shamelessly.

“Yes, yes, yes, y/n! I’m your slut, your whore, your toy to use however you want!”

Begging you to go harder, she moaned wantonly.

“Please, y/n. I need more! Fuck me like the desperate cum-hungry bitch I am!”

Your cruel laughter only spurred her on further.

“Look at you, so desperate to cum, yet you beg for more,”

You taunted, even as you obeyed her pleas, fastening your pace. Rosie’s screams of ecstasy grew louder, more primal, as you ruthlessly claimed her body.

Heedless of who might hear, Rosie’s wanton cries echoed out of the vanity room, a testament to your total domination over her.

As you felt your own climax approaching, you gripped Rosie’s hips tighter, your voice low and commanding.

“Listen up, slut. On the count of three, you’re going to cum for me. And when I do, I’m going to fill you to the brim with my load. Understand?”

Rosie’s eyes widened, a fresh wave of arousal washing over her.

“Yes, y/n! Please, use me, make me your broken toy!”

She cried out.

“One…”

You growled, your thrusts growing more erratic.

“Two…”

Rosie’s walls clenched around you, her body trembling with unbridled need.

“Three!”

You roared, your cock pulsing as you emptied yourself deep inside her quivering pussy.

Rosie’s orgasm crashed over her, her body convulsing as she squirted uncontrollably, drenching the both of you in her sweet release. She had become your well and truly broken plaything, reduced to a quivering, overflowing mess by your unyielding dominance.

As you continued to release wave after wave of hot, thick cum deep inside Rosie’s quivering pussy, she let out a breathless, ecstatic exclamation.

“y/n! you’re breeding me so good, filling me up with your potent seed. I can feel it coating my insides, claiming me as your personal fuck toy.”

Rosie’s body trembled with unbridled bliss, her walls clenching rhythmically around your pulsing length. She reveled in the sensation of being utterly dominated and claimed, her womb eagerly accepting your virile offering.

“Yes, use me, own me! I’m your insatiable whore, you cum-hungry bitch. Flood my womb with your fertile load until I’m dripping with it.”

Your relentless thrusts continued, determined to maximize the amount of your seed deposited within her fertile depths. Rosie’s cries ecstasy echoed through the vanity van, her body shuddering with each new surge of your potent release.

As you withdrew your throbbing cock from Rosie's well-used pussy, a torrent of your potent seed burst forth, gushing out in thick, uncontrollable streams. Her own orgasmic release coincided with yours, her body convulsing and shaking as she collapsed onto the vanity van floor, squirting like a broken fountain toy.

Rosie’s cries of ecstasy filled the air as she reveled in her utter defeat, her mind and body consumed by the primal aftermath of your relentless coupling. She moaned your name over and over, her voice laced with a mixture of bliss and exhaustion. This was a moment Rosie would remember for a lifetime – the shattering of her pride, the complete subjugation of her being to your unyielding dominance. Her very essence had been claimed, her role as your personal fuck toy cemented in the most carnal of ways.

As she lay there, trembling and spent, Rosie knew that this photoshoot would be forever seared into her memory - a testament to the power you wielded over her insatiable desires.

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

What You Do During a Car, Bus, or Train Ride Based on Your Mercury Sign

Fire Mercury

• Listening to an energetic playlist that pumps you up.

• Talking on the phone or taking selfies.

• Eating snacks and telling the driver to speed up.

• Doing your hair or finishing your makeup.

• Singing or rapping out loud.

• Playing games on your phone.

• Texting everyone back after a long delay.

• Getting frustrated with bad drivers.

• Striking up conversations with strangers.

• Frequently stopping for breaks at gas stations.

• Alternating between sitting, standing, or moving around.

• Finally crashing and falling asleep after all the energy burns out.

Earth Mercury

• Listening to your favorite artists that bring you comfort.

• Thinking about your plans for the day, week, or month.

• Finally replying to messages you’ve ignored.

• Observing and appreciating your surroundings.

• Relaxing while taking in the scenery.

• Getting annoyed if someone sits too close or if the environment smells bad.

• Preferring a nice car or higher-end transportation.

• Sipping on your favorite drink or checking your reflection to ensure you look good.

• Sending emails or casually scrolling through social media.

• Exploring interesting topics online or reading something.

• Feeling irritated if someone stares at you but ultimately wanting to chill.

Air Mercury

• Playing music in short bursts or skipping it altogether.

• Talking on the phone, texting, or FaceTiming.

• Striking up conversations with strangers and debating theoretical or hypothetical ideas.

• Cracking jokes and casually chatting with the driver, whether you know them or not.

• Playing mentally stimulating games on your phone or scrolling through every social media app.

• Commenting on posts and sharing your thoughts online.

• Overthinking your existence and getting frustrated with slow drivers.

• Discussing places you’ve visited or passing by on the trip.

• Alternating between long silences and sudden bursts of conversation.

• Coming up with brilliant ideas or brain-dumping them onto paper.

Water Mercury

• Listening to a playlist that puts you in your feelings or sparks your imagination.

• Feeling nostalgic and reminiscing about old memories.

• Taking pictures of sunsets, scenic views, or interesting sights to share with others.

• Texting friends or family and getting irritated if the driver speeds or drives recklessly.

• Hoping the ride is long so you can enjoy the experience.

• Browsing your photo gallery or planning meals by looking at food pictures on your phone.

• Reading, journaling, or creating daydream scenarios in your head.

• Feeling a surge of excitement when you spot water like lakes or rivers.

• Avoiding interaction with strangers by sitting quietly and keeping to yourself.

Your Travel Style Based on the House Your Jupiter is In

1st House

• Solo traveler.

• Impulsive, “get up and go” trips.

• Short trips focused on reconnecting with yourself.

2nd House

• Trips you’ve saved money for.

• Traveling to shop for new things.

• Business trips or staying in comfortable, safe places.

3rd House

• Exploring your hometown or nearby cities.

• Meeting new people during travel and forming friendships.

• Being inspired to travel based on things you’ve seen on social media.

4th House

• Traveling with family, close friends, or a partner.

• Recreating the comforts of home while on vacation.

5th House

• Traveling for fun, pleasure, and romance.

• “Baecations,” partying, drinking, or experimenting with substances.

• Hooking up or seeking out entertaining travel companions.

6th House

• Planning every detail of your trip meticulously.

• Saving money and overpacking.

• Scheduling business trips or keeping a highly organized itinerary.

7th House

• Traveling with your romantic partner.

• “Baecations” or bonding trips.

• Collaborative travel plans or business-related trips.

8th House

• Transformative trips taken after breakups or for healing.

• Traveling with a life partner or for deep self-reflection.

• Spending lavishly during your travels.

9th House

• Traveling far and wide, often to different countries.

• Trips for school, spiritual retreats, or church-related activities.

• Adventurous trips focused on immersing yourself in local culture.

• Sharing your travels online as a “travel blogger.”

10th House

• Traveling for work or to reward yourself after major achievements.

• Preferring luxury and stylish accommodations.

• Spending generously and being selective about destinations.

11th House

• Group trips with friends or social circles.

• Traveling to meet long-distance friends or for niche group events.

• Volunteering or participating in humanitarian-focused travel.

12th House

• Astral traveling or vivid, dream-like visualizations.

• Exploring spiritual destinations or places surrounded by nature.

• Using psychedelics, meditating, or connecting with ancestors during travels.

[buckyseternaldoll]

Five Seconds, Five Years (Part III)

header from: pinterest

✮⋆˙ Part I | Part II

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes proposed just days before the world ended — afraid he might never get another chance. Then he vanished in Wakanda. Five years later, he’s at your door — unchanged, while your whole life has moved on. Some love survives time. But what happens when life doesn’t wait?

Disclaimer: Unexpected emotional reunion, long-term separation and time displacement, vulnerable confessions, hesitation and emotional complexity, mention of Steve Rogers’ peaceful death (old age), post-trauma recovery arc, references to mental health improvement (off-grid healing), rebuilding emotional connection, gentle confrontation of past pain, pure comfort and soft domesticity, post-trauma peace arc, references to past emotional pain and healing. **This story stretches between several timelines in MCU (only loosely, not to be strictly following the year gaps)

Word Count: 4,846

You didn’t usually skip class.

Not after everything it took to get here—the money you scraped together, the fight to stay afloat, the way you had finally started taking your life seriously again.

But this morning felt… wrong.

Off.

You woke up to soft light spilling between the blinds, your duvet tangled around your legs. Your chest felt heavy, like something was sitting on it. A pressure you couldn’t name, just pressing.

Your fingers wrapped around the warm mug of coffee. You sat there in the kitchen nook of your Seoul loft, barely sipping.

Not scrolling.

Not thinking.

Just… sensing something.

A pull in your ribs.

A flutter in your gut.

And when you passed the small flower stall outside the station—the one with handwritten notes tucked into every bundle—that’s when it hit you.

A sign, scribbled in smudged black ink (translated to English):

“March 10—Pisces. Heavy-hearted. Brave. Forgiving.”

Your hands went cold.

Your breath caught.

His birthday.

Of course.

Of course your body remembered even if your calendar didn’t.

—

You didn’t go to class.

Instead, you walked.

Wandered.

Through crooked alleys and boulevards of mid-morning traffic, past the crisp scent of roasted chestnuts and motor oil, past students chattering about exams and café music echoing through glass.

You didn’t want silence.

You wanted noise.

People. Traffic. Motion. Something to drown out whatever this feeling was.

—

Sinchon was perfect for that.

Young people everywhere—students hustling through subway exits, tote bags heavy with books and iced americanos in hand. Girls linking arms, stopping to fix each other’s makeup in compact mirrors. Lines forming outside trendy cafés for limited-edition drinks.

And couples.

God—there were so many couples.

Matching outfits, matching sneakers. Holding hands in crosswalks. Taking selfies by store murals or booking time inside photobooths with sparkly filters and pastel props. You watched one couple fuss over a printout from a four-cut booth, giggling and sticking heart stickers on each other’s cheeks.

It was adorable. It was soft.

It was everything you thought you’d be doing by now.

But it wasn’t you.

And maybe that was the worst part.

You weren’t bitter—not exactly. But the loneliness scraped a little sharper on days like this. When love seemed so visible. So effortless. So normal. And you were just here, floating through a city of warm hands and soft smiles, still trying to remember how to breathe without aching.

Music bled from shopfronts—different rhythms overlapping in the air. Delivery riders zipped past on scooters, navigating the maze of alleyways like it was second nature.

It was loud.

It was full.

It was exactly the kind of place where no one paid attention to anyone else.

You wanted to be anonymous.

You wanted to disappear for just a little while.

—

You turned down the main road—the one just past the movie theater and the underground station exit—and crossed toward the bookstore that had the good imported titles in the back.

You waited at the crosswalk.

You were just one of dozens.

And that’s when you saw him.

—

At first, it was nothing.

Just a shape.

Tall. Broad shoulders under a dark jacket. Face angled down. Hair shorter than you remembered, but unmistakably him.

He turned.

Your heart nearly stopped.

He was leaner now.

Older.

More tired.

But that face—

Still the most handsome thing you’d ever seen.

And those eyes.

Cerulean burn.

That impossible, searing shade of blue you used to trace in the dark, whispering his name into the hollow of his throat. The kind of blue that saw through you. The kind of blue you didn’t forget, no matter how many calendars you turned.

And they were locked on you.

Wide.

Disbelieving.

Like he couldn’t quite trust what he was seeing.

Like maybe he thought you were the ghost.

You couldn’t breathe.

Your fingers curled at your sides.

Your mouth parted.

You didn’t even realize you were shaking until a warm gust of wind brushed against your cheek, and the world tilted.

The crosswalk light turned green.

The city surged forward.

People began to walk.

But Bucky?

He ran.

Straight into the street.

Straight through the crowd.

Eyes never leaving yours.

A delivery bike honked and veered, a girl shrieked with laughter nearby, someone cursed in Korean under their breath—and still he kept coming.

Like the world had fallen away.

Like he had waited too long to take one more step.

Like he didn’t believe in anything until he saw you again.

—

You didn’t know how you moved.

One second he was across the street, running.

The next, he was right there.

Close enough to breathe in.

Close enough to touch.

Close enough that you forgot every reason you were supposed to be okay without him.

“Bucky—”

Your voice cracked. Your lungs caught fire. You barely got his name out.

His expression was everything at once—relief, disbelief, joy so raw it looked almost painful.

And then he pulled you into him.

The hug broke you.

Not with sobs. Not with words. Just… with the sheer, overwhelming familiarity of it.

His arms.

Strong as ever.

The same way they used to wrap around you at night when the world felt too loud.

One hand against your spine, the other curling at the back of your head.

His scent.

God—it hadn’t changed.

Still that grounding mix of cedar, worn cotton, and something warm and his that clung to your hoodie like a memory that never really faded.

You buried your face in his chest.

And for a second, you forgot everything.

Forgot the years.

Forgot the pain.

Forgot that you were no longer lovers. No longer engaged.

Just two bodies clinging to the only truth that had ever made sense—this.

—

The hug lingered longer than it should have.

And when he finally pulled back, his hands still rested lightly on your arms.

He looked at you like someone who needed to double-check that you were real.

“Are you—are you travelling here?” he asked, almost shy.

You blinked at him.

Then smiled. A little broken. A little whole.

“No,” you said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I live here now.”

“You—what?”

“I moved here. Started over. Enrolled in a language program. Fourth month in.”

His mouth parted in quiet awe.

“You did it,” he said. “You actually chased that dream.”

“You used to tease me for crying over Korean dramas.”

“I stand by it,” he smirked. “The amount of chicken and beer scenes alone—”

“Don’t you dare slander it,” you laughed, hand half-swatting his shoulder.

“God, I missed this.”

Your smile faltered. Just for a breath. But he caught it.

Before it could sink, you motioned ahead.

“There’s a little café just down the alley. I go there all the time. It’s quiet.”

“Lead the way.”

—

The café was tucked between a bingsu shop and a bookstore.

Inside, it smelled like roasted barley tea, honey, and worn books. The kind of place that felt like a warm hug on a rainy day.

The old man behind the counter—you always called him Halabeoji—lit up when he saw you.

“Ah! You’re skipping class today,” he teased in Korean.

“Only this once,” you grinned back, motioning to Bucky. “I have… a friend visiting.”

Halabeoji gave a little approving nod, then pointed to your usual spot by the window.

“For you, always the best seat.”

—

You both sat down.

Two mugs of warm yujacha arrived, unprompted. Yours had a slice of lemon. His was plain.

Bucky looked around.

“This place feels like you.”

“How so?”

“Quiet. Understated. A little cozy. A little sad.”

You snorted softly. “Thanks?”

“No, I mean it in a good way. It’s peaceful. It feels like it’s survived something.”

He sipped his tea, then glanced at you.

“I didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“I didn’t think anyone was still looking.”

He hesitated.

Then: “Sam sent me. Intel mission.”

“Here? In Korea?”

“Yeah. That’s what surprised me too. We don’t usually get assigned Asia without a team. But Sam insisted I come alone.”

You blinked, suspicion already blooming in your chest.

���Wait. Sam’s been in touch with you?”

Bucky’s smile tilted crooked.

“Yeah. For a while.”

“He didn’t tell me.”

“You blocked everyone, remember?” he said gently. “When you left the country, they respected your space. Sam said they didn’t want to track you unless it was urgent. Privacy and all that.”

You exhaled slowly.

“Still feels like… a weird coincidence.”

“It’s not,” Bucky said, looking down at his tea. “This ‘mission’? No briefing. No real intel. No partner. Just some vague excuse to look into a low-level smuggling ring. It didn’t add up. And Sam kept nudging me. ‘Take it, Buck. Just go.’”

He looked up at you then.

“I think… he wanted this to happen.”

Your heart thudded.

He swirled his tea slowly, like it helped him think.

“I think he wanted me to find you.”

You looked at him.

Carefully.

The mug in your hands had gone warm, forgotten. Your thumb traced the rim once, then twice.

“How about you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Did you want to find me? Or was it just… the mission?”

He stilled.

His shoulders sank slightly, as though the words themselves added weight.

And he didn’t answer.

Not right away.

He took another sip of yujacha.

Let the silence stretch.

Watched the steam drift upward, as if it might form the right answer for him.

You didn’t press.

You just watched him.

The set of his jaw.

The faint crease between his brows.

The scar just beneath his left eye, one you didn’t remember—and one you ached to ask about.

Finally, Bucky set the cup down.

He leaned forward a little.

Not casual.

Not composed.

Just… tired of silence.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he said, voice low.

“After I left,” he continued, “after I sent that message… I shut everything off. Burned my last favor for extraction clearance and disappeared.”

“I landed in Kuala Lumpur. Rented a place above a tailor shop with broken stairs and a mosquito problem.”

He huffed a small breath of something that almost passed for a smile.

“It was the kind of place no one would look twice at. Exactly what I needed.”

You didn’t interrupt.

You could already feel the ache growing in your throat.

Because of course he didn’t just vanish. He rebuilt. In pieces.

“There was a group of pakcik (uncles) who sold breakfast near the bus stop. Half their stalls were barely standing. So I started showing up. Fixing legs. Rewiring lights. Buying kopi (coffee) at dawn. They’d laugh at my accent, make fun of my appetite, that I couldn't stand the spice—the heat. But after a while, they called me family.”

“I stayed longer than I thought I would. There was peace in it. Simple, quiet peace.”

“But every night… I’d see you.”

He looked at you then. Really looked.

“In dreams. On the street. In a song. Everything reminded me of you.”

“I didn’t come back because I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t enough for you. Not like that. Not with everything so broken.”

You couldn’t breathe for a second.

You felt something burn behind your eyes—but you held it together.

Because he wasn’t done.

“After Malaysia, I went back to Romania. Spent a couple months in the mountains. Then tried Dubai—got lost in the crowd, worked off the radar, stayed low.”

“Eventually, I made my way back to the States,” Bucky said, eyes fixed on the rim of his cup. “Didn’t know where I was going. Just knew I couldn’t keep drifting.”

“I stopped by the old spot—the safehouse near Quantico. Figured someone might still show up now and then.”

He paused, huffing a quiet breath.

“That’s where I ran into Torres. Joaquin. You’d like him—fast talker, smart, good heart. He recognized me right away. Told me where to find Sam.”

“I almost didn’t go. Thought maybe it wasn’t my place anymore. But… I needed to see someone who remembered who I used to be. Someone who knew Steve.”

“So I found Sam.”

Bucky’s voice softened, his thumb slowly brushing the condensation from his mug, tracing the arc like it helped him hold onto the moment.

“I already knew Steve was gone before I saw Sam.”

Your breath caught.

He didn’t look up—just kept circling the rim of his cup with a kind of quiet reverence, like speaking Steve’s name too quickly might cause it to vanish from the air.

“I saw it in a headline. Some international outlet. It was just a small article. No flashy photos. Just… ‘War Hero Steve Rogers Dies at Age 106.’”

“No ceremony. No fanfare.”

“Just a footnote in history. A paragraph about a man who changed the world.”

He finally looked up, and his eyes were tired. Still and hollow in a way that only grief knows.

“That headline didn’t even mention Peggy. Or the serum. Or that he was the only reason I ever got a second chance.”

You reached across the table without thinking. Your fingers brushed the edge of his sleeve.

He didn’t flinch.

He didn’t pull away.

But he also didn’t move.

He just let the silence sit for a beat before continuing.

“I think that was the moment I knew I had to stop running. Like something clicked.”

“I couldn’t keep drifting through cities pretending I didn’t still belong somewhere. That I didn’t owe it to him—or to you—to try.”

He took a breath, steadying himself.

“So I flew back. No plan. No contacts. Just showed up at the old safehouse near Thibodaux. Figured if anyone would still be in orbit… it’d be someone like Joaquin.”

“He recognized me right away. Thought I was some kind of mirage.”

“Told me Sam was down in Louisiana with his family. And before I could second-guess it, I was already halfway there.”

You could see it now—Bucky at the edge of a dock, his boots wet with salt and sweat, the sun making him squint against the bayou light. Sam turning, seeing a ghost from a past life standing ten feet away.

“He was still down in Louisiana,” Bucky murmured. “Running things with his sister, fixing up the boat.”

“Looked… tired. A little older. But he still had that fire in his eyes, you know?”

“Like the kind of man who chooses to carry the weight instead of letting it crush him.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump building in your throat. You didn’t realize how much you missed hearing Sam’s name spoken with warmth.

“I didn’t call ahead,” Bucky said. “Just walked up one morning while he was hauling crab traps out of the water.”

“He saw me and dropped the bucket. Took one look and said, ‘Damn, Barnes. Thought you died again.’”

“I told him I was starting to think that too.”

He let out a rough breath—a half-laugh, half-sigh—and shook his head a little.

“He didn’t ask for an explanation. Not right away. Just pointed to the porch and told me to sit.”

“Made me coffee. Gave me toast with way too much jam. Didn’t say a word for almost twenty minutes.”

You smiled. That sounded like Sam.

That sounded like family.

“Eventually, I told him where I’d been. Malaysia. Romania. Dubai. How I didn’t make it back in time to say goodbye to Steve.”

“He just looked at me and said, ‘Steve never doubted you’d find your way back.’”

“And I said maybe Steve was wrong.”

“And Sam called me a goddamn idiot and said, ‘Then prove him right instead.’”

You let your gaze linger on him. He looked smaller at that moment. Not weak—just stripped down. Honest.

Worn in all the places love tends to wear through.

“That’s when he offered the mission,” Bucky said, voice quieter now. “Told me there was a minor op in Seoul. Something about tech smuggling. Solo op. No backup. Real low risk.”

He looked over at you, and the edge of his mouth pulled into the faintest smile.

“But the way he pitched it? I knew. I knew it wasn’t about the mission.”

His gaze settled on you fully now. No deflection. No mask.

Just Bucky—exposed and aching.

“It was about you.”

—

The sunlight slanted deeper through the café window, bathing your table in amber-gold.

The world outside buzzed with students and bikes and the kind of everyday chaos you used to crave to feel less alone.

But inside this little café, it was still.

Quiet.

Safe.

Bucky leaned forward, the faintest smile curling at the edge of his mouth as he nudged his now-empty mug aside.

“I’ve been filling you in with all my wandering,” he murmured, “and I haven’t heard a damn thing about you.”

You blinked. Then you looked away.

He didn’t press.

“What’ve you been doing all this time, sweetheart?”

The pet name slipped out so naturally, so gently, that it made your chest ache. You didn’t even think he noticed—but of course he did. Bucky always noticed.

You drew in a slow breath.

And then, you began.

“I tried to find you,” you said, voice soft. “For months. I drained my accounts. Traveled across Europe, Asia. I retraced everywhere you might’ve gone. Asked the compound. Asked Wakanda. Sat on fire escapes and left letters and kept talking to ghosts.”

Bucky’s expression didn’t shift much—but you could see it in his eyes. The flinch.

“I lost you. And in the process… I lost someone else too.”

You didn’t say Dean’s name aloud.

Bucky didn’t ask.

“He was kind. Met him in grief therapy. And we… we tried. But I think part of me was still bleeding. I never gave him the whole version of me. And eventually… he walked away.”

You looked down at your hands, fingers curling slightly around the mug’s warm ceramic.

“I don’t blame him.”

Bucky stayed quiet—his knuckles pale, hands loosely interlaced on the table.

“Steve and Sam—they helped a lot. Kept checking in. Reminded me to eat. To sleep. To exist. When I moved here, they didn’t question it. Just… supported it.”

You reached up and tapped the necklace around your neck.

The tiny glint of metal caught in the windowlight.

“I still wear the ring you gave me,” you said quietly. “It’s always been here. Even when I tried to let go.”

Bucky’s breath hitched—almost too subtle to notice.

“Do you…” he began, then stopped, adjusting his position like the question itself hurt. “Do you still have the other one?”

You knew what he meant.

You shook your head once.

“No. I gave it back to him when we said goodbye. Told him… maybe we weren’t meant to keep holding each other.”

You hesitated, then offered a small smile.

“He was a chapter I needed. Not a replacement. Just… someone who helped me breathe again.”

Bucky nodded.

You didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until then.

—

A while later, after the café had dimmed its overhead lights and Halabeoji gave you his usual “go, go before sunset leaves you behind” wave, you and Bucky stepped out into the warm Seoul evening.

The sidewalks glowed peach from the setting sun. The air smelled like roasting chestnuts and fresh laundry.

You didn’t talk much as you walked toward Banpo.

The silence wasn’t heavy.

Just full.

—

When the Han River came into view, you turned to Bucky with a little grin.

“I’ve been coming here a lot,” you said, tilting your chin toward the park benches. “You can’t beat the view during sunset.”

“Guess I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’ve also been riding the KTX,” you continued, tone a little lighter. “Busan, Jeonju, Gyeongju. You’d love Gyeongju, actually—so much history. And I hiked with a group of ahjumma last spring. They brought me kimchi in tupperwares. Called me their baby goat.”

That earned a low, rough laugh from Bucky—the kind that melted something deep in your chest.

He glanced sideways.

“Did you finally try chicken-and-beer?”

“Chimaek's disappointing, actually,” you replied. “Tastes fine. But it’s not really fun without someone to share it with.”

Bucky’s smile lingered longer this time. Quiet. Full of something unreadable.

But the look he gave you was unmistakable:

I wish I had been there.

—

You found your favorite bench—the one tucked under the sycamore tree that had the best angle for catching the full sweep of golden light on the river.

It was miraculously empty.

You sat side by side.

Close, but not quite touching.

Not yet.

—

The sky bled gold and lavender over the Han River, the final edge of the sun slipping beneath the city’s jagged horizon. Lights flickered to life across bridges and distant towers, but the world at your bench stayed quiet, cocooned in soft shadows and late summer warmth.

You leaned back slightly on the bench and exhaled, your eyes following a boat carving a slow arc in the distance.

“Do you think,” you murmured, voice gentle, “we’d still be the same if none of that ever happened? If there was no war. No blip. No lost time?”

Bucky didn’t answer right away. So you kept going, like the questions could fill the unease blooming in your stomach.

“Do you think we’d have found a place together? Had a cat? Two coffee mugs and a broken couch and some ridiculous cable bill because I forgot to cancel it?”

That pulled a soft breath from him—a chuckle, but one laced with something tender.

“You’d forget to cancel the cable. I’d pay for it anyway. You’d thank me by stealing all the blankets.”

You laughed quietly.

“What if we’d married before everything fell apart? What if you’d never gone to Wakanda? What if we never made promises we couldn’t keep?”

The breeze ruffled your hair, and you tucked a strand behind your ear—then stilled.

Bucky wasn’t watching the river.

He was watching you.

And he hadn’t looked away once.

You turned your head just slightly—enough to notice how close his hand had shifted.

Fingers curled near yours. Not quite touching. Just… there. A single breath away.

“You’re not looking at the sunset,” you said, quieter now.

“I’ve seen sunsets,” he murmured. “I haven’t seen you.”

The silence grew thick, and suddenly your chest felt too small for the ache curling inside it.

And then—

“I never tried to find someone else,” Bucky said, voice steady, low. “I didn’t want to.”

“I couldn’t.”

Your breath caught, but he pressed on, gaze still locked with yours.

“I told myself I should. That it made sense. That you’d moved on. That someone like me… shouldn’t hold on to something already lost.”

He paused, eyes softer now. Open.

“But my love for you never faded. It never dimmed. It just… waited. Quiet. Burning low. Still alive.”

You looked down. Your fingers shifted unconsciously—toward your necklace, where the promise ring rested against your skin. You fiddled with it gently, just to feel something solid.

“I know it’s been years,” he said. “I know you’ve walked through a hundred different lives since me. And if you tell me that you don’t feel the same anymore… I’ll understand. I won’t ask you for anything.”

His hand inched closer.

The backs of your fingers brushed.

“But if there’s still something left… even a sliver,” he whispered, “I’d stay. I’d build a life here. In Seoul.”

You turned toward him fully now, breath trembling.

“You would?”

He nodded, voice rough with conviction.

“I think I’m ready for peace. For trains and quiet mornings. For markets and cats and walks by the river. I’m ready for a life that isn’t built around running or fighting.”

“I’m ready for a life with you.”

—

You didn’t speak at first.

The sun had nearly disappeared now, its last glow stretching long shadows over the water. Everything smelled like warm stone and river breeze and late-blooming flowers.

You looked at your fingers curled around the ring on yournecklace.

You thought of Kuala Lumpur. Of him fixing street stalls and drinking kopi with strangers. Of his nightmares alone in small rooms.

You thought of Seoul. Of your Korean textbooks. Your scarf flapped in the wind as you ran for the KTX. The nights you sat right here, aching for a ghost.

You thought of Dean’s last words—we’re learning to walk without them beside us.

But Bucky was here now. Beside you. Breathing the same air. Wearing the same scars.

And for once, not asking to be saved—just to begin again.

—

Your hand slipped forward—fingers sliding between his.

He stilled.

Then looked at you like he never wanted to look away again.

“There’s more than a sliver,” you whispered. “There’s still so much of you in me.”

Bucky’s breath shuddered out.

“You sure?”

You nodded once, eyes burning, voice fragile but firm.

“Just don’t disappear again.”

He smiled. Soft. Aching. Real.

“Not unless you’re coming with me.”

He lifted your joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You rested your head on his shoulder as the last light dipped below the river, and Seoul hummed to life around you.

And for the first time in years, your heartbeat didn’t feel like mourning.

It felt like home.

— Epilogue:

The morning light spilled gently through the linen curtains, pale gold and peach against the hardwood floor. Outside, the faint sound of a delivery scooter buzzed past. Birds chirped from the gingko trees across the quiet lane.

Inside, everything was still.

Bucky had woken early—as he always did—but for the first time in years, he didn’t feel the urge to reach for a weapon, or check a perimeter, or brace for another goodbye.

Instead, he reached for you.

Curled beside him, blanket tangled around your waist, lips slightly parted as you breathed steady and deep. One hand splayed against the center of his chest—always finding him, even in sleep.

He didn’t move at first.

He just stared.

You made the tiniest snuffling noise in your sleep—the same one you always made when your nose was pressed into the pillow too hard. It never failed to make his heart ache.

“God, you’re cute,” he whispered.

Then, with painstaking gentleness, he leaned in and pressed a feather-soft kiss to your temple. Then one on your cheek. Another near the corner of your mouth.

Your lashes fluttered. But you didn’t wake—not yet.

That was okay.

He could wait.

It had been six months since he called Sam to say he was done.

No more missions. No more deployments.

“I’ve given enough,” Bucky had said. “It’s time I learn how to keep something.”

Sam hadn’t argued.

In fact, he’d laughed.

Then paused.

“You sure Korea’s where you want to plant roots?”

“She’s there,” Bucky replied simply. “And I think that’s all I need.”

The South Korean government—with a quiet push from Wakandan allies and a few whispered favors from old S.H.I.E.L.D. contacts—had arranged for Bucky to live there legally under an assumed but cleared identity. James Buchanan Barnes was officially granted permanent residency under a “global protection and peacekeeping” clause that hadn’t been used in over a decade.

He rented a two-bedroom loft in Mapo-gu, not far from your university—enough space for mismatched furniture, two bookshelves full of your K-pop albums and his war novels, and one ridiculously oversized rice cooker you insisted on keeping.

It felt like home.

No missions.

Just laundry, groceries, slow breakfasts, and love that didn’t ask for anything except presence.

—

Most mornings now, Bucky walked you to class before heading to the local park. Sometimes he joined the ahjummas on their hikes—though they insisted on calling him “Baki-ssi” and feeding him dried persimmons.

One time, they tried setting him up with someone.

“Too late,” he said, holding up his hand where your ring glinted from its new place on his finger. “Mine’s better.”

They squealed. And then gave him more persimmons.

The ahjussi downstairs—Mr. Gu—had made it his mission to teach Bucky the art of drinking makgeolli like a proper local.

“Slow. Steady. Don’t stand up too fast.”

“Kind of like my whole life,” Bucky muttered.

—

You stirred beside him now—eyes still closed, hand twitching slightly against his chest.

“Mm… that better not be sunlight I feel,” you mumbled sleepily.

“Sorry, doll,” he whispered, brushing a thumb down your cheek. “But you were too pretty to let sleep through it.”

Your lips tugged up into a crooked, sleepy smile.

“You always say that.”

“And I always mean it.”

You finally opened your eyes.

Bleary. Beautiful.

Bucky leaned in again, this time kissing your forehead with something reverent—like he was still learning he was allowed to.

“Let’s stay in today,” you murmured.

“Even if the ahjumma text me angry hiking emojis?”

“Even then.”

You turned your face toward him and kissed his jaw—lazy, unhurried, like you had forever.

And you did.

—

Later, he’d make you pancakes—the slightly uneven kind you always claimed tasted better because they were made by him.

You’d curl up together by the window with coffee and soft jazz playing low in the background.

The world would keep spinning. The past would always be there.

But for once, so would the future.

And for James Buchanan Barnes—a man once lost to time, memory, and war—that was more than enough.

[lilacgaby]

biker! bakugo PLEASE i'm choking

˗ˏˋride or die

pairing: biker!katsuki x nerd!reader

summary: you'd been partnered up with the hotheaded speed racer, katsuki. who knew he'd end up more interested in you then the races he'd win?

tags: fem!reader, use of she/her, cursing, racing, college au!, no quirk au!, smart reader, studying, projects, reader has glasses, pet names

(a/n: i couldn't resist doing a trope 😖)

wc: 2k

flashing lights, money bags, and trophies were just another thing to katsuki.

It had begun when he was young, as a teenager becoming infatuated with motorcycles. he'd been gifted one when he became the driving age, and it'd become history ever since.

he was naturally adept at the sport, winning every competition he'd ever stepped foot in. but because of his mother, he was still forced to attend college.

it wouldn't be that bad if it wasn't so boring. he'd joined a friend group of fellow bikers, none on his level though. despite his reputation for being a bad, mean, and crude guy,

he'd never miss a class.

he walked in just before the bell rang, sitting towards the back of the class. there was no one close to him, well except you.

with your computer at the ready, notebook wide open, and the clicking of your pen you prepared yourself. your glasses already sliding down your nose as you begun to take basic notes on the slides.

katsuki found himself staring at you often, he didn't know why. maybe it was his boredom, or the focused expression on your face. maybe it was because you were really cute.

his heavy boots clanked around as he put his feet up on the table, not even bothering to pretend he was paying this lecture any mind.

he was lost in though, he honestly couldn't even figure out his own reasoning. but he finally looked off of you to note the huge letters on the board, project requirements. he mentally groaned and read over them, all pretty easy for him to accomplish except for..

the required partner. he didn't have any friends in this class and he sure as hell wasn't going to ask some loser. his eyes were glancing back at you instinctively, your pen was in your mouth as you were lost in thought.

‘a pretty loser’. he thought. ‘why not.’

he was walking over to you before he even recognized his movements, you were packing up your things into you bag when you noticed him. with eyes wide you looked up into his. “yo.” he smirked, hand behind his head.

“hello..?” you replied, confused as to why he was talking to you. you only knew him from the rumors that he was just a rich racer attending school for the hell of it. his expensive leather jackets and sleeves of tattoos you'd seen when he took it off only confirmed those for you. besides that, you'd never noticed him before, not speaking to anyone in this class in general. “can i help you?”

“yeah, we need a partner or some shit. y’ in or not?” his hands were on his hips as he awaited your answer, you finished packing your tote bag and shrugged. “it's cool with me, but i don't have a ride so we–”

“i got one though. so we can do this shit at my place tomorrow.”

“uh.. okay.” he held his hand out to you. you were confused and tilted your head, to which he scoffed. “your phone.”

you made an “o” sound with your mouth, handing it over to him. he had the audacity to snap a quick photo of himself before setting it as his contact photo, filling in his name and number before handing it back to you. “we can start this bull tomorrow, i need it done quick. i got something today and comp season is soon. i can't be busy.”

“uh– okay.. bakugo.” you read his name off of his contact, “that's fine for me.”

“just send me your address tomorrow, i'll come pick ya up. see ya.” with a wave of a hand he left you, holding your phone in your hand still very confused at what just happened.

‘bakugo. what a weird guy.’ you looked over the selfie he took of himself, his eyebrow piercing clear from the shot. your face flushed slightly, but you quickly left since you didn't want to be the last one out.

your day ended as usual, taking the bus home and petting your pet cat. finishing up assignments in the week early but leaving the annoying class for sunday, and sitting down to watch tv.

you were channel surfing, idly yawning as you were looking for something to watch while eating. you eventually landed on the sports channels, you were about to skip through them all when the sight of a familiar face broke you out of your mind.

“bakugo?!” you exclaimed, startling your pet. you couldn't believe it, he was actually racing professionally. and he was good, like really good. you found yourself with your jaw dropped and heart racing as he drove, crazy overtakes and high speed at every turn.

your food was now cold as your eyes had been locked on the race for forty minutes. as bakugo crossed the finish line, winning officially you cheered, fist pumped in the air.

the national anthem played as he was paraded around, cameras in his face as they handed him the trophy. a knowing smirk on his face as he celebrated.

once your excitement died down, you bit into your freezing food, opting to go pop it in the microwave.

as the bowl rang in circles, you realized.. he wasn't expecting you to ride on one of those was he?

yes he was. the next day after you texted him your address, you prayed that he'd come to you in a sports car. a regular car, just something that didn't involve you in something so tiny.

you heard him arrive before he even texted you, the roaring of his bike cutting through the music you were listening to. he arrived outside your apartment with a motorcycle, a spare helmet in his hand as he knocked on your door. “oh, no way.” you eyed him as if he was crazy, and he only laughed. “come on, it's just a bike. i'm the fucking best so don't worry babe.” he took your bag out your hands for you, helping you onto the back of the bike.

his hands were on your waist as he lifted you, steadying you. “hey, i got you.” was all he said before handing you the pink helmet, a bow on the side.

he hopped on in front of you, kicking back the pedal keeping the bike still. “hold on to me.” you put your hands onto his waist. “go slow.”

“i don't promise nothin’.” he roared the engined. “but i'll try for you, pretty girl.”

you squeaked as he sped off, your face now squished against his as you held onto his waist impossibly tight. “this is not slow!” you sped down the streets, way over the speed limit. you should've just taken the damn bus.

“can't hear ya.” you could hear the smile on his face as he sped up. “asshole!” you shrieked again as he popped a tiny wheelie.

after the ride of your life, or the possible end of it, he helped you off. you had shaky legs as you held on to him, chest heaving. “you're crazy.” he didn't let go of you, body supported by him as you walked into his house.

“i'll be back, gotta put the ol’ girl in the garage. make y’rself at home.” he walked out, leaving you calming yourself down. his house was huge, you looked around as you poured yourself a glass of water.

he walked back in, waving you to follow him. “come on, we can start over here.” you followed him into his room, a large setup on his desk. black silk sheets adorned by orange and red comforters laid upon his bed. it was actually pretty well decorated. “you just gonna look all day specs?”

you shook your head and sat next to him. “so, we just have to code a basic game, easy right?”

“yeah. this'll be a piece of cake.”

and a piece of cake it was.

he was actually really smart, fun to talk to. the game was created piece by piece, finished up easily, way faster than expected. but you hung around longer than necessary.

even though you finished the project in a week, it's been about a month and you still would go to katsuki’s house everyday.

lazing around his room on his bed, him holding your waist with one arm while you were hung over his body. scrolling on your phones, sneaking photos of each other, getting impossibly closer.

he'd take you out on drives, actually going slow now and riding around with you. he'd take you to his favorite shops, laughing when you manage to stomach the spicy ramen he enjoyed.

he'd take you to eat ice cream after, sitting in the parking lot watching the moon rise.

“yo, [name].” he pushed up your glasses with a finger. “what?”

“be mine, okay?” your face flushed, you swore the atmosphere grew hot. “uh.. okay.”

“cool,” he breathed. “now i have to ask you the actual important question… [name].” your heart beat sped up as he grew closer to you, caressing your face with his ungloved hand. he took a deep breath before saying,

“will you come to one of my races?”

your face fell and your eyebrows shot up. “that's the important question??”

“hey don't be rude. it's important to me and that shit took a lot outta me.”

that made you laugh, holding your stomach while he started at you with a straight face. you finally calmed down enough to say, “well, duh. of course i'll go. maybe you'll be extra lucky with me there too.” you joked.

“im sure i will [name].” he kissed you afterwards, tilting his head as the moonlight made you look ethereal.

being there was a lot different from just watching on the tv. you had a pass to walk around the pit area, katsuki kept you glued to his side. he explained to you how everything worked, where you'd be able to sit and watch him, and showed you his personal room.

you saw as he raced, your heart in your throat as you saw how dangerous the sport really was.

after all of it, after he won, he threw himself onto you and kissed you, trophy in his other hand.

when it was time to go though, you didn't see his motorcycle anywhere. “hey, ‘suki? where's the bike?”

he walked up to a black sports car, leaning against it. “i wanted to take her out for a spin ya know? switch it up.”

“you had a car this whole time?!”

“yeah, but how else would i get to see your cute face?”

"i'm going to kill you."

"you won't, you love me."

[cup1drul3z]

★ — Keep Me Close

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4 : ᴏɴʟʏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ɪᴛ

ᴘᴏᴘꜱᴛᴀʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ʙᴏᴅʏɢᴜᴀʀᴅ!ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ | 7.0ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

TAGS : Age gap, Angst, Masturbation, Car crash mentioned, Drinking, drugs, mental health problems, depression, suicide mentioned

A/N : i actually forgot to post this chapter im gonna kms

SUMMARY : You and Sevika arrive at the hotel after a long travel day, but privacy is hard to come by. Between surprise selfies, overheard questions, and accidental tension, the line between fake and real starts to blur. A day of chaotic rehearsals, heat, and unexpected confessions at the festival grounds leaves both of you unraveling—slowly, privately, and in ways you’re not ready to admit.

Thursday Afternoon

The room was what you expected—quiet, sleek, and tastefully expensive. Warm wood floors, a king-sized bed layered in crisp white linens, blackout curtains, and soft, overhead lighting that made the whole space feel calm and insulated from the noise of the lobby.

A desk with an ergonomic chair sat against the wall, plugs in all the right places. There was a full-length mirror near the closet, a marble-lined bathroom with neatly folded towels and little glass bottles of eucalyptus soap, and best of all: a tray of snacks on the credenza.

Not the kind you had to fight with the minibar over. These were complimentary. High-end, wrapped in matte packaging, the kind of snacks you usually had to sneak onto your tour rider.

You let out a small, satisfied sound and flopped face-down onto the bed, arms spread like a starfish. The mattress was perfect—firm, with just enough give—and you bounced once, kicking off your shoes as you sank into the pillows.

“Finally,” you mumbled into the duvet. “Something soft that doesn’t talk.”

Sevika lingered near the door, scanning the space like she was checking for threats instead of closet space. Her eyes flicked to the walls, the ceiling, the quiet hum of the thermostat. She moved slowly, taking everything in with that same sharp tension in her shoulders like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to relax yet.

You peeked up at her from where you were sprawled, then pulled your phone out and unlocked it with a lazy flick.

Already, your feed was blowing up—photos, fan edits, slowed-down videos of Sevika shielding you in the airport. Some zoomed so close, it looked like a movie still. People were freaking out over her. Over you.

Over the two of you.

You smiled faintly, brushed your curls back into place, and angled your phone for a selfie. Your lips curled into your signature smile, half-sweet, half-smug, and you made sure Sevika was in the frame just behind you—brows furrowed, looking mildly confused by the espresso machine on the counter.

Click.

Perfect.

Sevika let out a long, quiet sigh and finally lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. She sat stiff, back straight, hands braced on her knees like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to relax yet, even in a five-star hotel room with free snacks and no immediate threats.

Behind her, you were half-curled into the plush bedding, still scrolling on your phone, about to post the selfie you’d taken—your smile perfect, Sevika caught in the background looking way too serious for someone standing next to a cart of complimentary kombucha.

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of air conditioning and the faint tap of your thumb on the screen.

Then you broke the silence.

“Did you mean it?” you asked, your voice softer than before. No teasing. No smirk. Just a question lingering in the still air.

Sevika glanced over her shoulder, one brow raised. “Mean what?”

You sighed and set your phone down, turning onto your side. The movement drew her eyes before she could stop herself—how your hoodie hitched up slightly, the way the curve of your hip pressed into the mattress.

“The soft spot thing,” you said, watching her. “That we talked about on the plane.”

Sevika turned away instantly.

Too fast.

You didn’t miss it.

Her palm slid up her forehead and down her face in one slow, embarrassed drag as a quiet, sheepish chuckle escaped her lips. “I didn’t think you’d remember that…”

She looked like she was mentally kicking herself for letting that moment slip—like the admission had been accidental, like you’d imagined it.

You smirked and pushed yourself up, slow and quiet, the bedsheets rustling beneath your hands as you crawled across the mattress toward her.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t stop you.

You sat on your knees just behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her back. You leaned in, your breath soft against her skin.

Then your lips brushed the crook of her neck—barely there, feather-light.

“Do you have a soft spot for me, Sevika?” you murmured, her name spilling off your tongue like warm honey. Smooth. Intentional.

Her breath caught. Shoulders stiffened.

But she didn’t move away.

BANG!

The door flew open so hard it bounced against the stopper.

“Y/N, we gotta go to the festival grounds—totally forgot—they need you there right now!” Dean yelled, halfway in the room, already flustered and breathless.

And then he stopped.

His eyes landed on you—on your knees behind Sevika, still leaning close, lips barely an inch from her skin. Sevika was frozen, back straight as a board, eyes darting toward the door like she’d just been caught in a heist, not a moment of tension.

You pulled back immediately, your brows scrunching in disbelief as you turned to Dean. “Ever heard of knocking, pendejo?!”

Dean’s mouth opened. Closed. “I—uh—I’m sorry!” He threw his hands up in surrender. “But you seriously need to get ready, like, now. They’re doing light and sound tests. PR wants behind-the-scenes footage. Dress cool because it’s already, like, a hundred degrees out.”

You stood up, brushing your hoodie down and glaring at him, hands on your hips.

“I always dress cool,” you attempt to make a joke

Dean blinked. “What?”

“Nothing, It was a joke, a bad one clearly” you snapped, already stomping toward the door. “Just—get out!”

You shoved him backward with one palm to his chest and slammed the door shut with a loud thunk, the echo rattling through the hallway.

Silence settled again in the room.

You turned slowly, cheeks flushed, breathing hard—not just from the yelling.

Sevika was still on the edge of the bed, looking at the floor like she was trying to pretend she hadn’t been two seconds away from losing control.

And you?

You kind of wanted to slam the door on Dean’s face again.

Your palms pressed against the door, head bowed for a moment as you tried to collect yourself after nearly committing second-degree manslaughter via hotel hallway.

Behind you, Sevika finally spoke.

“Maybe you should stick to singing,” she said dryly. “Not comedy.”

You turned slowly, the tension in your shoulders still tight—but your face unreadable, quiet. The silence stretched between you like a rubber band.

Then, without a word, you reached for the hem of your hoodie and peeled it off in one smooth motion, followed by your tank top, tossing both onto the chair like they were nothing.

Sevika blinked once.

You were standing there in a white lace underwear set—delicate and pretty but unflinchingly bold. Your scar was fully exposed, a pale streak of memory across your hip, stubborn and unhidden.

Sevika’s mouth dropped open. “What are you doing?!”

You arched a brow and moved toward your suitcase, deadpan. “Giving you a show, obviously.”

She stood quickly, caught between panic and protest. “Y/N—”

“Where else am I supposed to change?!” you asked, yanking your suitcase onto the bed with a little thud. “The hallway? Want me to ask Dean for privacy?!”

“I dont know: the bathroom?!” Sevika yelled back

You furrow your brows and turned your back to her as you rifled through your outfit options, walking to the full-length mirror with nothing on but confidence and lace. Sevika’s eyes followed you—unintentionally at first.

The lily tattoo on your shoulder blade caught her eye, soft lines and shaded petals, a clear memorial inked with meaning. But as her gaze dropped, it caught something else entirely.

A tramp stamp.

Hearts—sharp-edged and spiked, bold and unapologetic ink etched low on your back, right above the curve of your hips.

Sevika swallowed, suddenly very warm.

You grabbed a pair of low-rise bootcut jeans and shimmied into them slowly, the fabric hugging your hips as you adjusted the waistband just right. Then came the top—a dark brown, low-cut, halter tank that sat soft and light against your chest, leaving your collarbones exposed and glowing under the room’s soft light.

You ran your fingers through your hair, tousling it lazily as you turned around.

And paused.

Sevika was still staring.

Caught.

“You good?” you asked, teasing—though there was a flicker of something else behind your voice now.

Sevika blinked, jaw tightening. “I—yeah. Fine.”

But she hadn’t looked away yet.

The festival grounds were a swarm of motion—early chaos before the glamour. Vendors were unpacking crates of merch and overpriced sunglasses, food trucks were heating up fryers, and tech crews shouted instructions across the open air as they set up towering speakers and lighting rigs.

Carnival rides creaked in the distance, half-assembled but already glowing faintly with bright pastel bulbs. You could hear the clatter of metal being locked into place, the distant hum of generators kicking on.

It was hot. Ridiculously hot.

The kind of heat that made your makeup melt before you even had time to sweat it off. You were already hungover from your in-flight drink binge, sunglasses perched on your nose, sipping a smoothie like it was medicine while mentally planning how many drinks it would take to get you on that ferris wheel by sundown.

Sevika trailed just a few steps behind you, sunglasses on, jaw clenched slightly like she was doing her best not to groan out loud.

She'd ditched the leather jacket hours ago—too hot, even for her—and now wore the too-tight black tank top the event staff had handed out to all security members. “SECURITY” was printed bold across her chest, right over her abs, which the top did absolutely nothing to hide. Her baggy cargo pants and combat boots grounded her, but the shirt made her stick out more than blend in.

You were vaguely aware of how many heads were turning to stare at her—not you—and you weren’t even mad about it. Just amused.

“God,” Sevika muttered, half to herself, glancing around at the dust, the makeshift booths, the speakers being hoisted on cranes. “This reminds me of Warped Tour.”

You turned to look at her, one brow raised behind your shades. “What’s that?”

Sevika froze.

Her head turned slowly. “…You’re a singer,” she said flatly. “And you don’t know Warped Tour?”

You shrugged, biting back a grin. “Umm… oh! That was popular in the 2000s, right? For, like, emos? Fall Out Boy?” You flashed her a sugary smile.

Sevika stared at you in betrayal, arms crossing over her chest. “Yeah. Emos.”

You gave her a wink and turned back around, walking ahead with an extra bounce in your step, smug as hell.

Behind you, Sevika muttered something under her breath.

It was probably a slur in the sacred language of ex-scene kids.

The rehearsal area was alive with movement—singers pacing in circles doing vocal warmups, dancers stretching and marking through routines, a few idols adjusting their in-ear monitors while staff carried water bottles and clipboards like Olympic batons. The sun beat down without mercy, sweat already glistening on everyone’s skin, and the buzz of music equipment being tested echoed in the background.

You were barely paying attention, casually scrolling through your phone as Dean talked to a festival coordinator about your set schedule and accommodations, hands flailing like usual. Sevika stood a few feet behind you, arms crossed and sunglasses low on her nose, eyes constantly scanning the crowd.

Then, out of nowhere—

“Y/N!!!”

A voice rang out like a firecracker.

You barely had time to register it before a blur of bright blue came charging toward you—shoulder-length braids bouncing, arms flung open, paint-stained ripped jeans flapping like flags in the wind. The girl wore a cropped high-neck tank and a moon tattoo inked sharp across her right bicep.

Before you could react, Sevika stepped in front of you like a wall, and the girl slammed into her with a solid oof, stumbling back and landing right on her ass in the dirt.

“The hell’s your deal, man?” the girl snapped, looking up with a scowl.

You peeked over Sevika’s shoulder—barely managing to see anything at all from behind her massive frame, standing on your toes, eyes just clearing her arm.

Then your face lit up.

“Jinx?!” you gasped, squeezing past Sevika and practically tackling her in a hug.

“Y/N!!!” Jinx squealed, springing up to her feet. The two of you spun each other in a circle like it had been years—and honestly, it felt like it had. Sevika winced and muttered something as she covered her ears with both hands like the screeching physically hurt her.

“What are you doing here?” you asked breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look Jinx up and down. “Wait—don’t tell me. Is Ekko headlining?”

“Yep,” she grinned, popping the p as she adjusted one of her braids. “And I got hired to paint one of the main murals too. Look!” She pointed toward a roped-off area across the grounds, buckets of paint and scattered tarps surrounding a massive blank concrete wall.

You turned just in time to see Dean spinning around looking for you, clearly realizing he’d lost track of you. His eyes landed on Jinx and lit up.

“Ohhh my God,” he said, suddenly appearing beside you both, teeth bared in a marketing-smile. “Jinx! It’s been forever, you look amazing!”

Jinx’s face twisted immediately into visible discomfort as he pulled her into a hug she did not reciprocate. Her arms stayed at her sides, awkward and stiff, and she lifted her hand like a warning sign.

“Haha… yeah… still married to Ekko,” she said with a forced smile, pointing to her silver wedding band and pressing a hand to Dean’s chest to physically push him off.

You furrowed your brows slightly but didn’t say anything—just looped your arm through hers like a reflex and started walking toward the mural wall.

Sevika followed wordlessly behind, eyes flicking between Dean and Jinx like she was mentally evaluating what level of crime it would be to trip your manager in broad daylight.

“When are you gonna get a new manager?” Jinx asked under her breath, leaning close to your ear.

“I’m working on it,” you whispered back.

And honestly?

You meant it.

The food truck stood out like a candy-coated beacon at the edge of the festival grounds—bubblegum pink with swirls of frosting-like paint curling across the metal sides. A striped awning shaded the serving window, and the smell of sugar and fried dough hit your nose like a warm hug.

Made sense. Dessert truck.

A girl with bright blue and pink curls stood behind the counter, grinning from ear to ear like she’d waited her whole life for someone to ask for a funnel cake.

“What can I get you ladies?” she asked, voice bubbly and sweet as the powdered sugar floating through the air.

“Funnel cake, please,” Jinx said, already pressing her face slightly too close to the menu board as she looked at you expectantly.

You froze.

Your mouth opened.

Then closed.

A quiet thrum started in the back of your head—too familiar. Too sharp.

Maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe people were already whispering. Maybe someone would take a photo, post it, zoom in on your arms or your stomach or the way you chewed and laugh about it on Instagram. Maybe all those people who said they loved you would decide you were just some cow in a crop top pretending to be sexy.

“Y/N?” Jinx asked, her head tilting. “You okay?”

You blinked, pulling yourself out of the spiral, heart thumping.

“Uh—” you started, voice catching. You looked back up at the menu, reading each item like it was written in another language.

Then—

Smack.

A twenty-dollar bill hit the high counter with a sharp slap. Sevika, standing at your side, didn’t even flinch.

“She’ll take a candy apple,” she said, her voice deep and final, like a verdict.

The worker blinked, nodded quickly, and disappeared into the truck with a rustle of paper and the sizzle of caramel.

You turned to Sevika, stunned. “Why did you do that?”

You dug into your pocket, pulling out your wallet. “Here—let me pay you back.”

Sevika shook her head. “It’s fine.”

You didn’t listen. “That was really nice, Sevika, but you didn’t have to. I know times are kind of tight for you right now and—”

You pulled out a few crumpled bills, trying to push them into her hand. She didn’t take them.

Instead, she pressed her palm lightly against your chest, the money crumpling between you, her eyes narrowed just slightly.

“Sweetheart,” she said, voice low, “I said it’s fine.”

The word sweetheart hung in the air like smoke.

Both of you froze.

Your eyes widened. Hers did too.

Jinx, already halfway to biting her cuticles from sugar anticipation, blinked and looked between you two like she’d just walked in on something.

Then the worker returned, holding a funnel cake and a candy apple, the awkward tension immediately slapping her in the face.

“Here you ladies g—uh… is everything okay?”

Jinx snatched the funnel cake out of her hands so fast she may as well have teleported. “Yeah, they’re fine. Thanks, toots,” she mumbled, eyes wide, powdered sugar already on her chin.

You cleared your throat, trying to reorient yourself as you reached for the candy apple, cheeks burning.

“Thanks, ma’am,” you said softly, forcing a polite smile.

The worker blinked but smiled back before backing away slowly, clearly not wanting to get involved.

The three of you walked away from the truck, sugar in hand.

Then Jinx, mouth full of fried dough, glanced between you and Sevika again.

“Uhhhh… what the fuck was that?” she asked, powdered sugar puffing from her lips like smoke.

You bit into your candy apple, sweet caramel coating sticking to your lips, but your mind was elsewhere. “Didn’t get much sleep last night,” you said, brushing Jinx’s question off with a shrug, pretending the sudden shift in energy between you and Sevika hadn’t just knocked the air out of you.

Jinx eyed you like she didn’t quite buy it but didn’t push.

As the two of you made your way back toward the rehearsal zone, the distant beat of bass and mic checks rumbling through the air, she nudged your shoulder with hers.

“Well,” she grinned, licking powdered sugar from her thumb, “I gotta finish this mural before my boss realizes I wandered off again.”

You laughed and pulled her into a hug, squeezing tight. “It looks great. I’ll see you later, Jinx.”

She gave you a playful salute and sauntered off toward the wall, twirling a paintbrush like a baton. You watched her go, only half-finished with your candy apple before tossing it in a nearby trash bin.

When you turned around, Sevika was already watching you. Neither of you said anything.

You just… looked. And then you moved on.

Back inside the fenced-off area, Dean was deep in conversation with some dancers until he spotted Jinx in the distance—bent over a paint bucket, sleeves rolled, smudges of color on her cheeks.

“Hey,” he said, sidling up next to you, rubbing his hands together like a cartoon villain. “You think Jinx is into me?”

You blinked at him, face blank. Then grimaced.

“Dean,” you said with mock politeness, “please, for the love of all things holy, fuck off.”

He pouted dramatically but wandered off as fashion staff approached, waving you toward the changing trailers. You followed, slipping behind the curtains into your designated space.

The trailer was cozy and familiar, done up in your signature style—baby pink accents, heart decals on the walls, cute throw pillows, soft light strips lining the mirror. It felt like a mobile version of your dressing room back home. There was even a mini cooler stocked with chilled water, juice, and soda.

Sevika stepped inside behind you and immediately crouched in front of it, yanking it open. She grabbed a water bottle and cracked the seal with a satisfying pop, tilting it back and chugging the whole thing in seconds. A few droplets slid down her chin, catching in the hollow of her throat.

One of the fashion assistants—clipboard clutched tight to her chest—was visibly blushing, peeking over the top of her notes like she was watching a forbidden scene in a romance novel.

“Ma’am,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

No answer.

“Ma’am.”

Still nothing.

“MA’AM.”

She jumped and blinked hard, snapping her eyes to you, flustered. “S-sorry! Sorry,” she stammered, lowering the clipboard and flipping it open like that would somehow save her. “So! Um—we have a few outfits for you to try. They all match the dancers.just thought it would be good to give some options”

Another assistant stepped forward, arms full of fabric, and laid a few pieces out on the pink couch.

You didn’t hesitate. You began to strip.

Sevika stood up so fast she knocked the cooler lid closed with her boot, turning to face the wall like she’d just been caught doing something illegal. She kept her eyes forward… except for one small glance. Just one. Down. And then snap—back to the wall.

You slipped into the first outfit—a shiny metallic pink halter top with a rhinestone heart charm dangling at the bust. The front slit dipped low, tied around your neck, and hugged your frame paired with a ruffled jean skirt cinched by a heart chain belt, and finished the look with pink metallic boots.

In the full-length mirror, you looked like a popstar. A real one. Glossy. Unapologetic.

But the top hem of your scar peeked out across your stomach. It curled just slightly below the edge of the halter, visible when you turned even a little. It would show during spins, jumps, anything.

You stared at it.

Even now, after everything, it still made your chest ache.

You clenched your jaw. “Give me another,” you said to the assistant, shaking your head, hands already reaching to untie the top.

But then—

“I think it’s hot,” Sevika said, her voice low.

You stopped.

The room went still.

You looked at her through the mirror—her reflection watching you, eyes no longer trying to hide.

And she didn’t take it back.

You froze, fingers still hooked in the tie of the halter top, the knot half-undone.

The fabric hung slightly loose at your chest, but you weren’t thinking about that. You were thinking about what Sevika just said.

You turned toward her slowly, the mirror forgotten, the assistants forgotten—just you and her and the words still hanging in the air like smoke.

“You… what?”

Sevika leaned against the wall again, arms crossed, face mostly unreadable—except for the faintest pink at the tips of her ears.

“I said I think it’s hot.” She nodded once toward your scar, then added, “You look hot.”

Your mouth parted slightly.

Behind you, the assistant practically squeaked, backing away with the second outfit like she was trying to disappear into the couch. You heard a frantic whisper and a giggle as she and the other assistant scrambled out, not even bothering to close the door all the way.

The trailer was silent again.

Your voice was quiet when it finally came. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”

Sevika’s eyes met yours. “Do I look like I say shit I don’t mean?”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The tension in your shoulders slipped, replaced with something else—warmth. Embarrassment. Maybe even a flicker of pride.

You looked down at yourself, at the shimmer of the pink halter against your skin, at the scar—raw, real, you.

And for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like a flaw.

It felt like something someone wanted to touch.

You looked back at Sevika. “Well,” you said softly, smirking as you smoothed the top back into place, “guess I’m keeping the outfit.”

She huffed a breath through her nose, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“Good.”

The sun was still high, casting a gold haze over the rehearsal area as you stepped out of the trailer, your boots thudding softly against the packed dirt.

Sevika walked beside you, hands in her pockets, her expression unreadable behind her sunglasses. You kept glancing down at yourself—at the way the metallic halter hugged your body, at how the chain belt shifted with every step. Even with Sevika’s words still echoing in your head, it was hard not to fall back into that old habit of checking… adjusting… second-guessing.

You looked down one second too long and your toe caught the edge of a cable snaking across the ground.

Your body tipped forward—but you didn’t hit the ground.

Sevika caught your arm with lightning-fast reflexes, steadying you before you could do more than gasp.

She kept her grip light but firm, eyes scanning your face for something unspoken.

Sevika had been hired to protect you from crowds, stalkers, creeps, overzealous fans.

But lately… it felt like she spent most of her time protecting you from yourself.

From the voices in your head. From the weight of expectations. From the times you stared in the mirror like it owed you something.

You muttered a soft “thanks” as you brushed your hair back, trying to play it off.

She just nodded once and let go.

You reached the edge of the stage area where Dean was waiting, practically bouncing in place. He gave you a full once-over, not even bothering to hide it.

“You look sexy!” he grinned, eyes wide with approval.

You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Your gaze flicked sideways to Sevika instinctively, watching her reaction out of the corner of your eye.

She said nothing—but the muscle in her jaw twitched.

Dean clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s run it! I want full energy like it’s the real thing. Cameras are up, and PR wants behind-the-scenes footage later, so if you sweat, sweat cute!”

You rolled your eyes and stepped up onto the stage.

The lights blinked on. The music started.

And the rehearsal began.

You got through the first song with practiced ease, body moving on instinct—your voice hitting the right notes, your feet landing on every beat. The stage was still only half-lit, but the sound was crisp, and the backup dancers moved like extensions of your rhythm.

As you struck the final pose, chest rising and falling, sweat starting to gather at the nape of your neck, you heard it—

Light clapping.

You glanced stage left.

Jinx stood in her little roped-off corner, paintbrush tucked behind her ear, grinning like she was watching her favorite sitcom live. She was surrounded by open cans of paint and a partially-finished mural, but she’d paused mid-stroke just to cheer you on—hands clapping a little too eagerly, like you’d just saved the world.

You gave her a breathless smile and a playful two-finger salute before wiping your forehead.

The rest of rehearsal passed in a blur.

Choreography was tweaked, lights were reset. You changed outfits twice. Your dancers ran formations. There were pauses for water, quick mic checks, and tiny arguments between Dean and the lighting crew.

Sevika remained close through it all. Always nearby. Watching. Quiet. Her eyes followed you each time you crossed the stage, hands tensed whenever you so much as looked unsteady. But she never interrupted. Never hovered.

She just stood there, like a shadow made of steel.

Eventually, Dean clapped his hands and called it.

“That’s a wrap! Let’s reset for show day. Everyone hydrate, rest up. And someone please get this girl a smoothie!”

You exhaled hard, sweat dripping down your spine, heart still thudding.

One rehearsal down.

The real show was coming fast.

The trailer was quiet now, the hum of rehearsal distant, muffled by the walls and heavy heat of the afternoon. You stood in front of the mirror, your metallic top now folded neatly on the counter, the chain belt looped over the back of a chair. You’d changed into something more comfortable—just a cropped band tee and cotton shorts—but your skin was still warm, still buzzing with adrenaline and exhaustion.

You stared at your reflection.

At the sweat still glistening at your collarbones.

At the smear of eyeliner under one eye.

At the scar that curved softly along your stomach.

Your hand hovered over the small bottle sitting on the counter next to your water bottle. The label was peeled at the edge from too many times being opened with shaking fingers.

You popped the cap.

One pill. Then another.

The familiar dull rush started to trickle in, slow and warm.

Then—

Knock knock.

You jumped.

Sevika.

You didn’t even need to hear her voice to know.

In a second, you snapped the cap back on the bottle and shoved it into your bag under the table, zipping it up with a quick flick of your wrist. You took a long sip of water, wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, and smoothed your hair down like nothing had happened.

“Yeah?” you called, keeping your tone casual.

“I’m coming in,” Sevika said through the door, her voice low.

You glanced toward your bag. You knew she knew. You felt it in your chest.

But you weren’t ready to have that conversation.

Not yet.

The door creaked open, and Sevika stepped in, ducking her head slightly from habit, like she didn’t quite trust the trailer frame not to hit her.

Her eyes swept the room first—always the room, then you. When her gaze finally landed on you, it lingered for just a second longer than it should’ve.

“Didn’t see you after rehearsal,” she said, her voice a little rough around the edges. “You disappeared.”

You offered a tight smile and turned your attention back to the mirror, adjusting a wrinkle in your shirt that wasn’t really there. “Needed a minute. It was hot. Loud.”

Sevika gave a soft grunt of agreement, stepping closer, pulling a bottle of water from the cooler. She unscrewed the cap, then paused—watching your reflection more than your actual face.

You caught her eyes in the mirror. She wasn’t saying anything, but the air between you tensed slightly.

Your stomach twisted.

She knew. Or at least, she suspected. But she wouldn’t call you out. Not yet. Not like that.

“You were good today,” she said finally, taking a sip. “Crowd’s gonna lose their shit tomorrow.”

You laughed, quiet and dry. “Hope so.”

She leaned against the small counter by the door, arms crossed again, but looser this time. “You okay?”

You glanced at your bag—just once, briefly.

Then forced another smile, smaller now. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Sevika didn’t push.

She just nodded slowly, like she was cataloging the answer. Saving it for later.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—but it wasn’t empty, either.

It was full of all the things you weren’t saying.

The trailer door clicked shut behind you, and you stepped down onto the gravel path just as the last stretch of sun dipped below the horizon.

The festival grounds had quieted. Most of the crew was gone or packing up for the night, the buzz of rehearsals replaced by the low hum of generators and the faint thump of distant bass tests.

You looked up.

The sky was a watercolor spill—purple bleeding into orange, streaks of pink softening into a deep indigo at the edges. It was the kind of sky you could get lost in if you weren’t careful.

Sevika walked beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of her cargo pants, her security badge now slung lazily around her neck. You glanced at her briefly, then tilted your head toward the sky.

“It’s so pretty out here,” you said, quietly. “You can actually see it.”

Sevika followed your gaze.

“In the city, it’s just gray,” you added. “All that light pollution... it’s like the sky’s being erased one billboard at a time.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment.

Then: “Never really looked up much before.”

You smiled, soft and faint, as the breeze rustled your shirt.

“Maybe you should start.”

Sevika didn’t reply, but she stayed beside you, her shoulder close enough to brush yours if you leaned just an inch.

Neither of you rushed the walk back. Not tonight.

Thursday Evening 

The ride back to the hotel was quiet, both of you lost in your own thoughts. The sky faded from rich indigo to a deep navy by the time you reached the building, streetlights casting gold shadows over the sidewalk.

You entered the hotel room without a word, the soft click of the door closing behind Sevika the only sound that followed you in.

Then you walked straight past the bed, your bag still slung over one shoulder, and into the bathroom.

Click.

The lock turned behind you.

You didn’t even meet her eyes.

Sevika stood frozen for a second on the other side of the door, staring at the wood like it had answers.

Inside, you dropped your bag onto the counter, hands moving on autopilot. You pulled out the bottle again. The pills rattled like broken thoughts.

You took one.

Then another.

Then another.

The faucet groaned as you turned on the shower, steam already beginning to fog the mirror. You stripped down slowly, deliberately, the sound of the water pounding against the tile a numbing backdrop.

Your body ached.

Your chest was tight.

And part of you hated that she was out there, probably knowing, probably feeling it—but saying nothing.

You stepped into the shower and let the heat wash over you, eyes shut, water rushing down your back as you pressed your forehead to the cool tile wall.

Trying to breathe. Trying not to drown.

Steam billowed around you, wrapping your body in a cocoon of warmth that did nothing to settle the cold sinking deep in your chest.

You stood under the stream, head bowed, water cascading over your shoulders and down your back, masking the burn behind your eyes. You pressed your palms flat against the tile, letting the water thunder over you like it might wash the thoughts out too.

It didn’t.

You stayed in there until your fingers wrinkled and the room was thick with fog, your heartbeat heavy behind your ribs. The pills dulled the edge, sure—but not enough. Not in the way you hoped. Just enough to make everything feel far away. Floaty.

You finally stepped out, wrapping yourself in a towel as the mirror slowly began to clear, the outline of your face appearing in the fogged glass like a ghost.

You stared at yourself again.

Still you. Still that same scar, peeking just above your hipbone. Still that same ache behind your eyes.

You cracked the door open a few inches, steam rolling out past your bare legs and flushed skin. You didn’t hear anything at first, but as you stepped into the room, you spotted Sevika sitting on the edge of the bed.

She hadn’t changed. Still in her cargo pants, boots unlaced. Her elbows rested on her knees, head bowed slightly, one hand running along the back of her neck like she’d been sitting there thinking too hard for too long.

She looked up when you stepped out, eyes scanning you quickly—not in a lingering way. Not right now.

Just… checking. Making sure you were real. That you were still there.

You said nothing.

Neither did she.

The silence sat between you both—quiet, steady, heavier than before.

You walked past her, towel clutched tighter around yourself than you needed, and reached for your pajamas.

She still didn’t speak.

But she didn’t take her eyes off you either.

And maybe that was the part that scared you most. That she saw everything—and stayed.

The room was dark, lit only by the pale glow of the city bleeding through the window. The curtains fluttered faintly with the hum of the A/C, and the hotel bed—massive, soft, overstuffed—creaked with every restless shift.

You lay on one side, curled beneath the thin sheet in your favorite nightgown—soft, pale, barely clinging to your skin in the heat. Your leg shifted against the cool fabric again, trying to find comfort, distraction, anything.

Sevika lay a few feet away on the other side, in a worn tank top and fuzzy, oversized pajama pants that didn’t match her usual vibe but somehow suited her. She’d been silent since the lights went out, but her breathing was too shallow, her presence too tense.

Neither of you had said it aloud.

But neither of you were sleeping.

You tossed. Then turned. So did she.

Got it—let’s adjust that:

Sevika couldn’t take it anymore.

She threw the sheet off her legs with a frustrated grunt, grabbing her pack of cigarettes and lighter from the dresser. Wordless, barefoot, still in her loose tank and fuzzy pajama pants, she crossed the room and grabbed her keycard from the nightstand.

You turned your head slightly but didn’t ask where she was going.

She didn’t offer.

The door opened with a low click, a rush of hallway air brushing over your skin. Then it shut behind her, leaving you alone in the thick, heavy silence of the hotel room.

You stayed still for a moment, listening to the soft hum of the fridge, the distant traffic outside.

Then your arm slipped off the side of the bed.

You reached for your little leather backpack, the one tucked underneath the edge where Sevika wouldn’t notice. The silver stars caught a glint of passing headlights as you unzipped it quietly, your fingers wrapping around the familiar shape nestled inside.

Your breath hitched—just slightly—as you pulled the vibrator out and sank back into the pillows, heart racing with something that had nothing to do with nerves.

She was gone. Fully gone. Probably standing outside the building, cooling off or burning through half the pack.

You had a few minutes.

And you were so wound up, you didn’t even try to talk yourself out of it.

Outside, the air was cooler than Sevika expected—almost sharp against her bare arms. The hotel parking lot was mostly empty now, the festival buzz having died down for the night. A flickering streetlight buzzed faintly nearby as she leaned against the stone wall, cigarette perched between her fingers, smoke curling slow and quiet into the night.

She lit her second without thinking, gaze unfocused, fixed somewhere between the concrete and the sky.

It wasn’t just insomnia.

It was you.

The way you looked in that nightgown, slipping under the covers without a word, your back turned but your thoughts loud. The way you tried to hide things you were certain no one could see—especially not her.

She could see all of it. Too clearly, maybe.

Sevika let the smoke sit on her tongue before exhaling slowly, the weight of everything pressing in again. Her hand slid into her pocket, pulling out her phone. She stared at the screen for a few seconds.

Then she scrolled to Vi and hit call.

It rang a few times before a groggy voice answered, rough with sleep.

“...You serious right now?” Vi mumbled, followed by the sound of rustling sheets. “It’s like three in the damn morning.”

“I know,” Sevika muttered, staring at the ground. “Shut up.”

Vi was quiet for a second. Then, more alert: “...Is this about the popstar?”

Sevika didn’t answer right away. She just took another drag, letting the silence speak for her.

“Oh my God, it is,” Vi groaned. “What did she do now? Wear glitter near you again? Breathe too sexy? Say thank you with a smile?”

Sevika sighed, tilting her head back against the wall. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That makes two of us, babe.”

“She’s... not what I expected.”

Vi let out a sleepy chuckle. “Is that a bad thing or good thing”

“...good” Sevika said quietly.

Vi was silent.

Then, gentler: “Yeah. I figured.”

Sevika stared off into the dark, thumb brushing over the edge of her lighter.

“She’s hiding something. Lot of somethings,” she said finally. “And I don’t think I’m supposed to care. But I do.”

Vi sighed. “You always care, Sev. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

“Yeah,” Sevika muttered. “That’s the fucking problem.”

Sevika pushed through the hotel lobby, the last drag of her cigarette still lingering on her tongue, her head low, hands stuffed deep in her pockets. The cool night had done nothing to clear her thoughts—it only made them quieter, sharper.

She reached the door to the suite and grabbed the handle, pausing for a moment before sliding the keycard.

Then she heard it.

A sound, faint through the door—soft, breathy.

A moan.

Sevika froze, her fingers still wrapped around the handle, her body locked in place.

Her brows furrowed immediately. Ten minutes. She’d only been gone ten minutes. Was someone in there with you? Had you invited someone over?

A hot twist of jealousy curled low in her stomach, ugly and immediate. She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath.

Carefully, she pressed her hand to the door and cracked it open just an inch, the room still dim with only the soft glow of the bedside lamp. And what she saw—

Her breath caught in her throat.

You were alone.

Sprawled on the bed, one knee bent, your nightgown pushed down around your waist. The sheet had been kicked off entirely, your skin glowing under the light, the soft rise and fall of your chest quick and uneven. One hand moved over your stomach, your other cupped around your breast, thumb brushing your nipple.

Your lips were parted, glossy and flushed, brows slightly drawn as you shifted against the pillows, lost in the moment—your head tilted just enough for Sevika to see the faintest hint of a smile.

She couldn’t look away.

Her chest rose and fell, slower now, heavier. Her hand slid off the doorknob. She didn't dare open the door further, didn't dare let herself be caught watching—but her feet wouldn’t move either.

Because god help her, she wasn’t angry anymore. She was starving.

A/N : after rewatching lilo and stich (the animation not that god awful live action) ive been thinking about doing a beach special in this fic, thoughts

comment to be added to the taglist!

@salsalsusu @dynamidedina @sweetvalentineheart @magnificentmilkshakearbite @pramspams @sevikas-whore @madzorwhatever

IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW STRUGGLES WITH DRUG ADDICTION, HELP IS AVALIBLE! you're not alone!

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration

[syluss-karaoke-teacher]

Love and Deepspace - Nightly Rendezvous - Part II, Zayne

As promised, here is the second part of the short smut series inspired by the new quad banner~ I began writing Xavier and Zayne's parts after the teaser dropped but before the cards came out, so that's why it's not a faithful retelling of the plot. Especially since I found the premise of Zayne getting *that* drunk off ONE chocolate so outlandish lol.

Word count: 2286 words

MDNI! Main text under the cut. You have been warned.

NOTE: This fic is only posted on tumblr and on AO3 under the pseud Yuli_Hunter. All other uploads on any other websites are non-authorized. I do not own any part of Love and Deepspace as an IP, but I do own this piece of fanfiction, and you are not allowed to repost it, copy it or otherwise claim it as your own.

That's it, enjoy! ❤️

Tags: reader!MC, fem!reader, PWP, fingering and oral (f!receiving), PIV, Zayne is a lightweight, tipsy and neglecting his doctorly duties lmao

Not beta-read we die like Grandma

You had hoped that finally, after so many weeks of the two of you running yourselves ragged at work this short work trip together would at least help you spend a night together. For Zayne there was a medical conference to attend, and for you a chance to aid your neighboring city’s Hunters by being on-call as backup for the preparations of a local festival. Nothing too intensive, maybe even time to have a nice long dinner together.

Alas, from the moment you arrive at the hotel hosting Zayne’s medical conference he gets swamped by his colleagues from all over the country. As you converse with the front desk staff Zayne is soon engaged in small talk from all sides, and slowly but surely gets walked towards the conference hall. Your boyfriend looks over his shoulder and offers you an apologetic frown. You wave back at him with a small smile, trying your hardest to not let your disappointment show. That’s what you get for having such high hopes.

The suite Zayne had reserved for you two is nice, but it feels so very empty with only you occupying it. As Zayne’s day at the medical conference drags on your Hunter’s watch stays silent, and by the time your on-call shift ends, you place an order to the room service. After a moment’s consideration, you add a bottle of wine to the order, in case Zayne only arrives back during late hours of the night.

As you wait for the food you fix your hair and makeup and try on some of your newly bought clothes to pass the time. If there is a chance that Zayne arrives early you want to surprise him. You end up choosing a sleeveless silk top with floral designs and barely-there black shorts. You tie your hair in a high ponytail to show off your shoulders and dab your pulse points with a jasmine-scented perfume. Satisfied with your look you take a few mirror selfies, and on a whim decide to send them to Zayne, thinking he would only look at his phone after his panel talks are over.

The food finally arrives, and you help yourself to a glass of wine as the staff sets up a table for you. Just as you are thanking them your stomach growls loudly, and you see the staff out the door with a sheepish smile. Afterwards you dive into the food, practically devouring the delicious truffle pasta. You make a mental note to have it again with Zayne before you return home.

As you reach for the dessert, a generous slice of dark chocolate cake, you hear the door open. You set the cake and your wine glass back on the table and hurry to the front door, where you are met with a tired looking Zayne.

You frown a bit as you notice how visibly tense Zayne is, even a bit irritated. However, the moment he sees you his pupils widen as he takes in your appearance. He barely notices you trailing your hand up his chest, and he doesn’t register your concerned voice as you ask about his day.

“Zayne?” you repeat, and he finally snaps his focus back to your eyes. That’s when you notice that they are glossed over, unfocused. You lean toward him and as he wraps his arm around you, you notice a faint fruity scent.

“Have you been drinking?” you ask in amazement. Zayne never drinks alcohol, citing the endless health hazards and the ever-present possibility of being summoned to handle an emergency at the hospital. Yet now Zayne merely hums and traces your cheek with his fingertips.

“I had a cocktail or two in the lounge. Some of my work colleagues were… quite insufferable, not letting me get back to my room.”

A surprised gasp escapes you as Zayne suddenly pulls you flush against him.

“I was waiting for a call from the hospital, to get an update on next week’s surgery,” he says as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. His other hand slides down the slope of your back to rest on your ass as the other one tangles itself into your hair.

“So, imagine my surprise when I check on my phone and find your pictures there instead.”

You are about to apologize when he lays a heated, open-mouthed kiss on your neck, and your words die out in a moan. Zayne starts walking you backwards, kissing up your neck as he does. Soon your back meets the cool glass of the floor-to-ceiling window, and at that moment Zayne claims your lips with fervor you have never seen from him. He slips his tongue into your waiting mouth, sharing the sweet taste of the fruit cocktail with you as he presses his thigh between your legs. When you finally part you barely recognize Zayne with his eyes so cloudy and dark, his glasses misted up and his breathing ragged.

“I might have been able to endure my colleagues and the inevitable phone call if I was by myself… But knowing you would be here, looking like this—” he groans and slips his hand further down to grab your ass better, “it was too much. You are too much. And here I am, falling to pieces while you stand there so… unaffected,” he says, and sounds almost angry as he does.

“Zayne—” you don’t even know what you want to say. It doesn’t matter, as Zayne claims your lips once more. He grinds you against the window while cupping the back of your head so as not to hurt you. There’s a slight wobble to his movements, induced by the alcohol he so rarely drinks, and as you slip your hands down his abdomen to caress the growing bulge in his pants, you feel him unravel. Zayne moans loudly in your mouth, and before you have a chance to react, you are swooped up by him and carried to the living room work desk.

Zayne has apparently decided that the bedroom of the suite is too far away, and he pushes the stationary items off the table and settles between your thighs. You bite your lip as you gaze upon his face: his cheeks flushed from both the alcohol and the naked desire, his eyes shining as he maps your kiss-swollen lips, and his labored breathing as the jasmine perfume pushes him ever deeper into delirium.

“Don’t try to escape me, please,” he murmurs as he peppers your lips with more kisses, “it’s been far too long since I had you like this. It’s like the universe itself is mocking me by keeping you away from me. And the pictures…” he sighs and squeezes your naked thighs before sliding his hands further up. You tremble as his thumbs circle closer and closer to your core under the fabric of your shorts.

“I’m not going anywhere Zayne,” you sigh and tilt your head to the side to give his mouth a better access, “I’m all yours.”

Just then you two hear a buzzing noise. It’s coming from Zayne’s phone that’s still in the pocket of his slacks. You sigh and squeeze your eyes shut, preparing to wind yourself back. You open your eyes just in time to see Zayne fish the phone out of his pocket—

And chuck it somewhere on the floor before slipping his hands under your shirt. The phone keeps buzzing incessantly on the floor as Zayne gets back to making out with you, his hands deftly undoing your bra and unbuttoning your shirt. You wait for the phone’s voice mail to prompt Zayne to leave the room in a hurry, but all you get are intermittent messages notifications, and after Zayne manages to unzip your shorts and slide his fingers into your panties, the phone sits silent and forgotten on the floor.

You wrap your arms around Zayne’s neck as he rubs your clit in slow, sure circles. His lips are tethered to your neck and shoulder, kissing, licking and nipping the tender flesh. You try to pay him back by lifting your leg and pressing your shin against his groin, but instead of faltering in his ministrations Zayne merely groans and slips two fingers inside your slick heat, curling his fingers just right to make you gasp and tremble in his hold.

“Z-Zayne, more—” you whine and try to shimmy your shorts off. Zayne pulls his fingers out, but instead of helping you out of the last pieces of your restricting garments, he pulls your shorts and panties just barely halfway down your thighs and then pushes your knees towards your chest. A scarlet blush overtakes your face as you realize how lewd a position your usually well-mannered boyfriend has just put you in. Zayne leaves you no time to protest as he pushes his fingers inside of you again. You quickly grab your thighs as Zayne starts a fast rhythm, rubbing incessantly against the sweet spot inside you while the thumb of his other hand teases your clit. Zayne stares at the spot where his fingers disappear into your wet heat, and you catch him licking his parched lips.

“Do you want to taste me, Zayne?” you ask him, widening your thighs as you struggle to temper the flames of your arousal. The sight of Zayne being so utterly mesmerized by you is unbelievably arousing. His pupils dilate at your suggestion, followed by a goddamn whimper, and you feel yourself squeezing down on his fingers.

Zayne grabs his glasses and places them on the desk with more force than necessary. Then he drops to his knees in front of you, still pumping his fingers at a steady pace. You spread your thighs impossibly wide and whine as you feel his warm breath on your pussy. Your core pulsates with need, your heart jumps wildly in your chest, and as his lips connect with your heat you feel yourself shaking to the core. You moan, deep and desperate, as it takes no more than a few precise licks to make you cum all over Zayne’s awaiting mouth. The desk creaks under you as you do your best to keep your balance with your hips bucking wildly into the wet softness.

You don’t hear the noises Zayne makes over your own, but as you come down from your high you feel Zayne’s fingers slipping out of you and grabbing your thigh. You open your hazy eyes and see Zayne staring down at you, panting hard as he blindly reaches for his zipper. You take advantage of his momentary distraction and finally push your shorts and soiled panties off. You wince inwardly at the feeling of the expensive wood of the desk being soaked in your juices, but before you can comment on it, much less do anything about it, you feel Zayne’s arms winding around you once more. You are hauled up and against him, your sweat slicked skin pressed into his expensive vest as he balances you on one arm. You expect him to carry you to the bed, or at least the couch, but then you hear the sound of his metal belt buckle hitting the floor. Your eyes widen as you feel him widening his stance.

“Hold on tight,” he murmurs, and you scramble to hook your arms around his shoulders as you feel him guide his weeping cock to your hole.

“Zayne, oh, fuck—” you manage to exclaim before he sinks into you. He is rock-hard, filling you up inch by inch. Your jaw grows slack when his tip slides against your sweet spot torturously slow. You lock your ankles behind his lower back and hold onto dear life as Zayne begins bouncing you up and down.

“So tight and sweet for me darling, just as I remember,” he pants against your neck, and you respond by squeezing his cock even harder. You can feel him pulsing inside you, his release not far off. You mewl into Zayne’s ear, licking the lobe to tease him as his grip on your hips tightens.

“Only for you Zayne, only ever for you.”

Zayne sucks in a breath and slowly kneels on the floor in a way that makes you quietly marvel the strength of his thighs. The position makes it easier for him to thrust into you, and soon you are little more than a ragdoll in his lap with Zayne fucking into your weeping pussy hard enough for the slapping of your hips to echo around the suite. You bite into his shoulder and feel his cock throb in response.

“Come into me Zayne, fill me up nice and good,” you whisper and give his earlobe one final teasing lick that’s enough to make him come undone. Zayne groans as he stills inside you, the head of his cock pulsating against your sweet spot. You reach for your clit and rub it as you swivel your hips, soon following him over the edge and milking him even further as your own orgasm wrecks through your body.

As you ride out your release on his lap Zayne reaches his fingers behind you and circles your leaking hole, slowly pushing your mixed juices back in. You hiss at the intrusion that’s almost too intense to bear, but then you pull yourself back to see that the intense heat in your lover’s eyes has not faded. You feel any objections die on your tongue as Zayne continues to ease two fingers inside you with his still semi-hard cock filling you.

“I’d hate to leave things half-way,” Zayne murmur against your lips, “won’t you let me continue? Just for a little while?”.

[kyleoreillylover]

Protectors

Jey Uso x Sami Zayn x Fem!Reader

Summary: As the youngest on the roster, you are used to the protective antics of the older members of the WWE- specifically Jey and Sami, who took you under their wing and see you as their little sister, who deemed themselves as your protectors- despite you thinking you can take care of yourself. But tonight, after wanting to experience being a normal teenager and sneaking out to a party you get ditched and stranded at, you call them for help. And Jey is not happy with you.

A/N: This is very self-indulgent. Not that I get stranded at parties, but I wish Sami and Jey were some of my college besties, especially as a first year, and could comfort me, don't we all 🥹 Hope ya'll enjoy!!

tag list: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav (if you wanna be added to the tag list just lmk!)

Word Count: 4,631

The rational part of your brain knew it was a stupid idea ever since your friends suggested it- you had to be stupid to not think that -but the irrational part of your brain wanted to finally act your age and have fun with the friends you barely saw ever since being called up and constantly on the road 300 days a year. 

As a college student who also happened to be a WWE superstar and the hottest act on WWE.

And at a mere 18 years old.

Any other person your age would have jumped at the chance for a wild night out. And you finally wanted to live up to your age. 

Which is why you didnt tell anyone on the roster that you were planning to attend the party. Sneaking out from the tour bus was easy enough, slipping away from the watchful eyes of your older colleagues who often acted as your guardians whenever you were on tour. You were grateful for their protectiveness, but tonight, you craved a taste of freedom, and you weren't gonna get that with them breathing down your necks. 

But now, with the bitter cold air biting at your skin, and the distant sound of music fading behind you, you found yourself regretting your decision. You hadn't anticipated how quickly everything could turn sour. Your friends had scattered away a few hours ago to god knows where, leaving you stranded and uncomfortable in a sea of drunk idiots (there was no way you were trusting the drinks of a bunch of college boys) that were either trying to get in your pants or trying to get you into their friends’ pants. 

And to make things worse-you got recognized. An over-zelous frat boy took one look at you from across the room and literally screamed out your name over the loud music, which in turn made his other over-zelous frat boy friends turn towards you with recognition in their drunken-hazed eyes and run over to you and wrap their sweaty arms around you and beg you for selfies, which in turn made everyone else realize you were there and do the same thing. 

You quickly dipped before shit could hit the fan and managed to slip away and run far away from the house without anyone following you, but now you had no idea where you were, it was getting colder by the second, and you were nervous that a fan would eventually find you. 

You navigated through dimly lit streets, shivering in the cold, desperately trying to remember the route back to the main road to get the hell out of here. The unfamiliar streets twisted and turned, leading you deeper into a residential neighborhood you didn't recognize. Panic began to well up within you as you realized you truly had no idea where the fuck you were going. 

You groaned as as frustration mixed with the cold night air. You had two options now. Either suck it up and keep walking, hoping to stumble upon a familiar place with using google maps, or call one of your friends for help.

You started mentally weighing the pros and cons of each option to call. Cody was finally spending time with his family, you weren't close enough with Seth to ask him for help, Rhea would chew you up and spit you out for being this stupid and leaving without telling her, Bianca was spending time with Montez and busy dealing with Damage Control, Nia hated your guts…which left you with two options...

You reached for your phone, feeling the chill of the night biting at your fingertips as you dialed the numbers of the two people who you defineltey felt the most guilty about not telling about your plans because they were the closest to you and the most protective of you, but you had no choice now. The phone rang, each ring and every second you waited for an answer amplifying your anxiety. 

After a few agonizing moments, the phone finally finally clicked, indicating that someone had picked up. 

"Why the hell you calling at 1 am? I ain't getting you no food uce." Jeys groggy voice greeted on the other end of the line, sounding slightly annoyed at being awakened. "Hey...." You answered back nervously, knowing he'd be even more irritated. 

"Jey, be nice." You heard Sami's equally tired voice chastise Jey. Sami was always the sweetest between the two of them, even though Jey was also syrupy sweet with you and being protective hell over you. Sami was always spoiling you despite Jey's teasing and gruff exterior. You were like the little sister they never had.

"But why are you calling at this time, kiddo? Shouldn't you be sleeping or something, all that teenage angst catching up to you?" Sami teased lightly.

You let out a nervous laugh, the sound slightly shaky from the cold, your breath visible in the chilly night air. "Uh, yeah, about that...I kind of need your help," you admitted, rubbing your arms in an attempt to generate some warmth.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Jey spoke up again, this time more alert. "What kind of help? What the hell you do?" Jey's voice was filled with concern yet tinged with a hint of scolding. 

You let out another nervous laugh, knowing he was going to get more angry. "Don't get mad..." 

"Don't get mad?" Jey's voice rose a notch, and you could practically hear the skepticism in his tone. "What. Did. You. Do?"

"Well, you see, I may or may not have snuck out to a party without telling anyone, and now I'm kind of lost in the middle of nowhere," you confessed immediately at his demanding tone, cringing at the admission.

There was a moment of silence, followed by a deep sigh from Sami. "You did what?!" Jey's disbelief was evident, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his hair, a habit he had when he was stressed or frustrated.

"I know, I know, but I called you now, shouldn't that count for something?" You babbled out in a rush to quell his frustations, your teeth chattering slightly from the cold.

Jey let out a frustrated growl. So much for quelling his rage. "You should've not done this shit in the first place, that would've counted for something! You know better than to do this shit-"

"Alright, alright, let's not make her feel worse than she already does." Sami interjected, his tone softer as he put a hand on Jey's shoulder, trying to calm his friend down. "We'll figure this out kiddo, okay? Just send us your location." 

You quickly fumbled with your phone to send them your location- hoping they wouldn't notice you turned it off, but Jey's angry growl indicated that he probably caught on. "And you turned off your location, didn't you?" Jey's voice was stern, and you winced at the disappointment you could feel emanating from him.

"I...uh, didn't want anyone else to track me down," you admitted sheepishly, knowing it was a feeble excuse.

Sami sighed. "Look, just turn it back on so we can find you. We'll be there in a few minutes."

You followed Sami's instructions, turning on your location sharing. As you waited for them to arrive, you couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and anxiety. Relief that you wouldn't have to be in these cold, unfamiliar streets alone and would have company soon and anxiety about facing the inevitable lecture from Jey and Sami. 

True to their word, Jey and Sami showed up shortly, wearing sweatpants and hoodies, looking more like they were ready to sleep than to show up and get you. 

Jey's face was etched with anger, disappointment, and concern, while Sami's held a more understanding and sympathetic look, but also had a tinge of disappointment in his face. They both stepped out of their car, and Sami pulled you into a tight, protective hug. The warmth from his hoodie was a stark contrast to the chilly night air, and you couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"Are you okay?" Sami whispered, concern evident in his voice as he pulled away to examine you. You were wearing a low cut black dress that was definitely not suitable for the cold weather, and Sami's worry deepened as he noticed your shivering.

"I'm fine, just cold," you replied, trying to brush off the concern, but the chattering of your teeth betrayed your attempt.

Jey, who had been standing there with his arms crossed, finally spoke up, walking over to you and giving you a jacket."We're taking you back to the bus. This was a stupid idea, and you should know better. Now get in the car."

You nodded solemnly, slipping into the jacket, but Sami frowned at Jeys stern tone. "You don't have to yell at her, Jey. She's already scared and cold." Sami shot Jey a disapproving look that Jey shot right back at him. "Then what the hell am I supposed to do, Sami? Be happy like you that she's almost a grown ass adult that decided to play hide and seek in the middle of the night in some random neighboorhood?"

Your frown turned into a glare as you looked between them, understanding where Jey was coming from but nonetheless still hurt by his words. "You're right. I am an adult, so I shouldn't have to listen to you yell at me like I'm a child," you retorted, crossing your arms defensively.

Jey scoffed, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, your such an adult that you got yourself lost in the middle of the night," he muttered under his breath, but Sami shot him another warning look.

"Enough, Jey. Yelling at her won't change what happened. Let's just get her back to the bus and talk about this when we're all in a warmer, less public place," Sami suggested, guiding you towards the car.

You were about to go into the car, but a voice yelling out your name made you freeze in your tracks. "Y/N!!" The three of you turned to see a big ass frat boy running towards you, phone in hand, with a wide grin on his face. 

"You didnt listen to me ask you for a selfie earlier!" he exclaimed, clearly still drunk. "So now that I finally found you, are you done being a bitch and will take a selfie with me?" He barely finished his sentence before Jey grabbed the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the ground, a low growl escaping his throat.

"You need to learn some damn manners, you fucking fool!" Jey snarled, his grip tightening on the guy's shirt. "You talk to her like that again I'ma stick my foot up your ass and make sure you can't talk at all, uce."

"Jey, let him go!" Sami intervened, trying to pry Jey's fingers off the frat boy. You watched, wide-eyed, as the frat boy stammered out an apology, fear etched across his face as Jey chocked the life out of him. "Nah, he gotta learn to keep his fucking mouth shut!" Jey's grip tightened on his throat as he pushed him against a nearby car. "You wanna talk that shit to her, you deal with the consequences, uce." Jey's tone was deadly serious, and the frat boy nodded frantically, struggling to catch his breath. 

"Jey, seriously, let him go. We don't need trouble," Sami pleaded, still attempting to calm his friend down. 

"Jey please, let him go. We don't need you getting suspended for hurting a fan over me." Your voice softened as you approached, placing a gentle hand on Jey's arm. He turned to you, his expression still filled with anger but softening slightly at your touch. He listened to you and released the frat boy, who stumbled backward, coughing and trying to regain his composure.

"Get lost," Jey growled at the frat boy, who nodded vigorously before stumbling away, casting frightened glances over his shoulder.

Sami shot Jey a disapproving look, but Jey just shrugged it off. "You didnt have to fight him. You could've just ignored him," Sami scolded gently, shaking his head at Jey's temper.

"I ain't gonna let anyone disrespect her like that, Sami. You know that." Jey replied, still seething but slightly more composed now. You took a step closer to Jey, looking up at him with a mix of fear and love in your eyes. "Thank you, Jey. I'm sorry for causing all this shit." You looked away from him guiltily, not waiting for a response as you crawled into the car, missing the way Jey sighed heavily, his anger slowly dissipating as he met Sami's gaze, who was giving him a knowing look. "Lemme guess, now you are feeling bad and wishing you listened to me?"

Jey sighed again, running a hand through his hair in frustration. 'I fucking know, okay? I shouldn’t have blown up on her like that." Jey admitted gruffly, his voice laced with guilt. 

Sami placed a reassuring hand on Jey's shoulder. "I know, man. But now, let's bring her back to the bus, make sure she's good, and then you can talk to her, okay?”

Jey nodded a mix of concern and remorse on his face as he got into the drivers seat, Jey's grip on the steering wheel tight and Sami sitting quietly beside him, occasionally shooting concerned glances at you in the backseat, where you were shrunken back into your seat, scrolling on your phone to avoid the tense vibes in the car.

The silence was thick, only broken by the occasional sigh from Jey and the sound of Sami shifting in his seat. You glanced up from your phone just in time to see you pull up to the tour bus.

As soon as the car stopped, you hurriedly exited, hoping to avoid the tension inside. You were met with the chilly night air once again, and you wrapped the jacket tighter around yourself, then felt anther arm wrap around you and looked up to see Sami by your side. He gave you a gentle squeeze, silently comforting you as you stood there, feeling the cold night air prickling against your skin. "You'll be okay," he murmured softly.

As you turned to head towards the tour bus, you noticed Jey lingering behind. His expression seemed torn between frustration and worry, his hand running through his hair as if he was battling an internal struggle. His eyes met yours briefly before he turned away, heading towards the bus after you and Sami, making your heart drop in guilt.

You sat down on the couch, pulling the jacket closer around you, trying to shake off the chill that had seeped deep into your bones, the heat emanating from the tour bus a welcome relief. You glanced up as Sami settled down next to you, offering a warm smile in an attempt to ease your n nerves as Jey stomped to the kitchen, his movements tense and agitated. He was trying to mask his concern with a facade of indifference, but it was evident in the way he kept glancing in your direction.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, breaking the silence, your voice barely audible. Sami's face softened at the sadness in your face. "I didnt mean to make you guys scared, or worry you both, or try to prove that I am independent. I just wanted to have fun for once."

Sami gently placed a hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. 

"It's okay, kiddo. We understand that. But you have to realize, sneaking out alone wasn't the safest way to have fun," Sami replied, his voice calm and understanding. "Jey and I were worried sick when you called. You are like our little sister, and we care about you, and we want you to be safe."

You nodded, feeling guilt weighing heavily in your chest. "I know, and I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to cause so much trouble."

Sami paused for a moment, his gaze sympathetic and filled with concern. "I know. And I know the pressure can be overwhelming, trust me, I can barely handle it and I am twice your age. But are you not having fun? Are you not happy with Raw and Smackdown? I don't want you to crack under the pressure this young just because you feel like you have to prove something to yourself or others."

You sighed softly, feeling a mix of relief and guilt wash over you. "I am, Sami. I really am happy when I'm with you guys. I'm happy with everyone. I am happy with me life. It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm missing out on being a regular teenager. Everyone else my age is out having fun, and I'm constantly on the road, living this extraordinary life but missing out on ordinary things."

Sami's expression turned into an understanding and his eyes had a pensive glint in his eyes as he pulled you into a tight hug. "I get it, kiddo. I do. I know how tough it is, but I also know that you're strong enough to handle it. You accomplished so much that others can only dream of doing, and youre being a badass while dong it."

You giggled softly at Sami's attempt to lighten the mood, and he smiled back, happy to have finally made you turn back to your normal self. "But you shouldn't be worrying about what you are missing, you should be proud of what you've achieved. You're not missing out on life; you're living it differently, and that's okay."

You smiled into his neck, his words and warm embrace being exactly what you needed. Sami was always so sweet to you. "I needed to hear that. Thank you, Sami.”

Sami pulled back slightly, giving you a warm smile. "Anytime, kiddo. Besides, who else would I be able to spill drama and gossip about with you're not here? Sami chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood further.

You giggled again, nudging Sami playfully. "You have Jey to gossip with."

Sami laughed heartily, the sound echoing through the bus. "Ah, he's got his moments too, but you know, you're the one who keeps things interesting around here."

The two of you turned towards the kitchen when you heard a clang, seeing Jey, rummaging through the fridge with unnecessary force, his back tensed.

Sami turned back to you, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Look, we'll talk more, but I think Jey needs a moment. He's just worried about you, and it's his way of showing it. He needs you more than I do right now."

You nodded your head understandingly at Sami's words; Jey might've had a hard exterior, but underneath all that he needed you right now, needed to make sure you were safe.

"I'll go talk to him," you said softly, standing up from the couch. Sami gave you an encouraging nod as you walked over to Jey, who had his back turned to you, who was aggressively fixing things in the kitchen. You approached him cautiously, knowing he was on edge.

"Jey?" You spoke softly, hoping to get his attention without startling him. You saw his back stiffen, but he didnt turn around. You took a deep breath and continued, knowing he was listening to you. "I'm really sorry about what happened tonight. I didnt mean to worry you or cause any trouble. I just wanted to..." You trailed off, unsure how to express your feelings without making things worse.

Jey finally turned to face you, his eyes red and tired, but full of concern. He didnt say anything at first, just observed you with a mix of emotions flickering his face. His expression softened slightly as he took in your nervous stance, and he let out a heavy sigh. 

"Look sweetheart," Jey began, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the frustration lingering underneath. "I ain't mad at you because I wanna ruin your night or make you feel bad. I'm mad because I care about you. We care about you.

He gestured toward where Sami was sitting, still looking in your direction. "You mean a lot to us, and seeing you like that.." He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "You're not supposed to be sorry, you know? You're supposed to be safe and sound, not running around in the middle of the night and scaring the hell out of us. And you like my sister, so of course I'ma feel some typa way about it." 

You felt your throat close up at the genuine concern in Jey's voice. You moved closer to him, reaching out tentatively to touch his arm. "I... I understand, Jey. I didn't mean to cause so much worry. I just... I wanted to let loose for a night, to feel like a regular teenager, " you admitted, your voice wavering slightly with emotion. “I won't do something stupid like that again, I promise." You looked up at him, sincerity shining in your eyes.

Jey's expression softened at your words, and he sighed, pulling you into a hug. "You better not, or I'ma beat your ass," he said, his tone serious but laced with affection. You giggled into his neck when he lifted you up slightly in a bear hug, your laughter easing the tension between you both. "Okay, okay, I promise! No more sneaking out without telling anyone," you assured him, hugging him back tightly.

"And no more partying alone somewhere you have no idea about."

"Okay!"

"And no more hanging out with friends that ditch you."

"Okay!!"

"And no more stealing my snacks from my locker room when I go out for a match."

"Aye, now you doing too much!"

You both chuckled at your comment, and you pulled away from the hug to look up at Jey.

"I love your protective ass, you know that?"

Jey smirked slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Of course you do. Who else is gonna keep you in check, huh?" You nudged him playfully, smiling up at him. "You and Sami are the best. I don't know what I'd do without you guys."

Jey's smirk softened into a genuine smile, and he squeezed your arm affectionally. "We got your back, always. Just promise me you'll have ours."

You smiled back at him, your eyes softening with gratitude at having the greatest support system ever. "I promise, Jey. I'll always have your back, just like you have mine."

Jey nodded, a sense of relief washing over him, his demeanor shifting back to his usual protective yet playful self. "Good. Now go back and sit with Sami, your hot chocolate will be out in a minute."

You raised your eyebrows at his words, a grin creeping up on your face. "Hot chocolate? You're spoiling me now, Jey," you teased, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you despite the chilly air outside.

Jey chuckled, pushing you playfully out of the kitchen. "Yeah, yeah, just go before I change my mind."

You grinned and hurried back to the couch where Sami was waiting, a smile on his face as he watched your interaction with Jey. "I take it everything's okay?" Sami asked softly as you sat back down next to him.

"Yeah, everything's good," you replied, leaning against Sami's shoulder. "Jey's just being Jey, you know?"

Sami nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulders comfortingly. "Yeah, I can tell." He paused for a moment before continuing, his voice filled with warmth. "Jey may not always show it in the best way, but he's fiercely protective because he cares deeply. We both do. You're like family to us."

You smiled gratefully, feeling a surge of emotion at Sami's words. "I'm lucky to have you guys. Don't tell anyone, but when I got called up to the main roster… I was scared. I didnt know anyone, and everyone was so much older and experienced, so I thought to just shut myself off and focus on wrestling. But you guys… you made me feel welcome, like I belonged."

Sami's smile widened at your confession. "Aw, kiddo." He pulled you into his arms again, holding you close. "You fit in right from the start. I saw potential in you from before Cody introduced us, and I knew you'd be something special. You've proved that and more. And don't tell Jey I told you this…"

Sami leaned in to your ear conspiratorially. "But he told me when we first met you that he thought you were the most talented person he had seen in a while, and that it was crazy NXT didn't capitalize on you when they had the chance." Sami pulled back to see the surprised expression on your face, chuckling softly at it.

"He really said that?" You asked, surprised and touched.

Sami nodded, his smile warm and reassuring. "Yeah, he did. But don't spill the beans, he has a reputation to maintain." You laughed as you leaned back onto the couch, smiling up at Sami gratefully. "Thank you for telling me that. And don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

Just then, Jey came into the room, carrying three mugs of steaming hot chocolate. He handed each of you a mug and settled into the seat across from you, a small smile on his face. "Here you go, kid. Don't burn your tongue," he said in a teasing tone.

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, taking a cautious sip of the hot chocolate, reveling in its warmth. "Thanks, Jey. This is perfect," you said, shooting him a grateful smile.

Jey leaned back in his seat, taking a sip of his drink and shooting a knowing look between you and Sami. "So, what'chall taking 'bout?" he asked casually.

You and Sami exchanged glances before chuckling nervously. The two of you were the worst liars on earth. "Oh, nothing, just catching up on some stuff," Sami replied smoothly, trying to cover up the conversation.

Jey raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Ya'll were talking bout me, weren't you?"

You were a little worried Jey had caught on, but Sami was quick on his feet. "Of course not, man. Why would we talk about you when we have more important things to discuss?" Sami flashed a mischievous grin.

Jey squinted at Sami, clearly not convinced. "I know when you're lying, Sami. spill it."

You chuckled nervously, deciding to take the plunge. "We were just talking about this hot guy from school hitting on me at the show one time." you said, trying to divert the conversation with a playful grin.

Jey raised an eyebrow, looking between you and Sami skeptically. "Hot guy, huh? Should I be worried?" he teased, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

Sami laughed, playing along. "Oh yeah, definitely. He was so into her, it was unreal. I had to swoop in and save her from his charming ways," Sami joked, nudging you lightly.

You giggled, grateful for Sami's quick thinking. "Yeah, Sami's my hero," you said with a wink, trying to keep a straight face.

Jey chuckled, shaking his head at your antics. "Yeah, in your dreams, cause ain't no way mans took a look at Sami and got intimidated." Jey smirked, taking another sip of his drink. You laughed at the offended look Sami wore, his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

And as you sipped your warm hot choclate, your heart felt even warmer. You might not have been a regular teenager, but if being a regular teenager meant you couldn't have these friends looking out for you and having your back, then you didn't mind missing out on regular teenage normalcy at all.

BONUS

[gyjo-enthusiast]

special case. ch.3

retired!nanami x younger!sorcerer!reader

summary: during field training, each student is assigned one semi-grade 1 or higher ranked sorcerer. after the last student is left without a mentor, her professor pairs her up with his old, retired grumpy friend.

reader is in their 20s (attending college), afab!reader, fem pronouns

tags: fluff, eventual smut, colleagues with benefits (is that a thing?), age gap (reader in early 20s, nanami in mid 30s), virgin reader

previous chapter: special case. ch.2 | next chapter: special case. ch.4

jujutsu kaisen masterlist | masterlist

chapter summary: after taking up the offer to spend a whole week at your mentor's place, you pack your things and talk through dinner together.

proofread: yes

word count: 2883 (9m)

song rec:

"are you sure it's not going to bother you?" you look at your shoes, sheating both weapons. after nanami's proposal to spend a week at his place, you tensed up, naturally.

"goodness gracious," his hand flew up to his temples, indicating irritation, "i gave you the option, of course it's not going to be a problem." turning his back to you, the blonde started walking away.

"of course if you do not want to, you don't have to," he said, mindful of how this could seem to others. "but i doubt that your classmates are all going back to dorms every single day."

"you think so?" you pondered for a while, coming to a conclusion of staying with your mentor. "okay, but i'll still have to get some spare clothes."

"go ahead and get them. i will text you my address, if anything happens, just let me know," you exchanged numbers before parting ways.

a few minutes later, your phone dinged with a notification of nanami's text consisting of his address and a question: "do you have any allergies? i'm going to make dinner." your face was redder than the sweetest strawberry reading that. wanting to keep cool, you texted back a simple "no allergies, but i don't like raw tomatoes. thank you so much:)"

thankfully you were left on read, you don't think you'd be able to handle a friendly conversation with your mentor. your very handsome mentor at that. your very handsome mentor who was preparing dinner for you two.

you couldn't hide the little smile that took shape on your lips, speeding up slightly. you wanted to be done with those obnoxious stairs to school and unwind after a long day.

as if nanami knew exactly what was going on, almost nobody was staying at the school dorms. quickly, you shuffled your feet towards the second to last door on the floor, unlocking and shutting the piece of old wood behind you.

you picked up your favourite backpack and started filling it up with clothes. checking the things off of your mental checklist: pjs, underwear, comfy clothes, spare uniform, your favourite plushie and more boring stuff like toothpaste and toothbrush.

you were practically sprinting out of your room, when your phone dinged again. this time, it was a notification from your class group chat. as if it was a sign from god himself, you realised you need your charger. you silently thanked yuuji for sending so many unnecessary selfies and finally closed the door. locking it twice, you briskly left the vicinity of your school and tried to find nanami's address on a map.

before you knew it, you descended the school stairs and went into the town without ever finding where his house is located, so you decided to focus on your surroundings for a bit to find out where you even are.

"to my left is a.." looking left, you saw an old bus station, which you tried to locate on the map. "a bus station.."

where the hell is it?!

"okay to my right is a theater, that should be easier to find," you hopelessly scrolled on your phone to find out where you are and where nanami's house is. "it should be easier to find, right?" you started to panic when you couldn't find anything around you on the map.

you were as lost as on your first day in tokyo, maybe even more. you knew you should text your mentor to let him know, but how could you? this is more embarrassing than not being able to exorcise a low-level grade curse.

realising that this is pointless, you gave in and started to look for nanami's number in your contacts.

but of course, as if he was telepathic, he called you before you could even dial his number.

"y/n? are you okay?" he said overly harsh, as if he was afraid something might have happened.

you sighed and eventually answered, "yes, sir. i'm.. i'm lost." you expected a scolding but it never came.

"lost? as in you already got your things but can't find the address? or you never went back to dorms?" nanami softened his tone, relieved that it's nothing serious.

"i can't find the address. i'm sorry," you apologised, guilty for being so troublesome.

"it's okay, just describe where you are, yeah?" he sounded entirely different now, like a concerned friend more than a mentor.

"um, well i can see an old bus station, it looks like it's not being used anymore, there's not a name of the station anywhere. there's also a theater on the opposite side," you paused for a second before finishing your thought, "it's like a crossroad if that makes sense? also i can't see anybody."

"y/n," nanami called out to you flatly, "don't go anywhere, alright?" you heard shuffling on the other side of the phone. "i think i know where you are so just wait there."

"can you not just tell me in which direction to go, sir?" you asked timidly, not wanting to be a burden.

"it's okay, the streets there are complicated to navigate through so this is easier. i'll be there in a minute." and with that, he ended the call and you were left in the empty streets, waiting.

a few minutes went by and you saw the first person to pass through here. as he made his way towards you and you could see him more clearly, you knew that without mistake, it was nanami.

you didn't know whether to be relieved or even more stressed, because he had to come for you like for a kindergartener. you slowly approached him and sheepishly smiled.

"i'm sorry sir, i'm still not used to tokyo," you excused yourself, as if it was good enough to make him come all the way here.

"don't worry about it, for now, let's go eat dinner. i'll tell you about this place later," he put a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that it was not a big deal.

as you made your way through the streets, you suddenly understood nanami about the complicated layout of the town. if he was to just navigate you, it would do more harm than good.

it was really just a few minutes until you were at nanami's place. he unlocked the door to his apartment and led you to his bedroom.

"since i don't have a spare room, you can sleep here if you don't mind," he gestured towards his king-sized bed. your worried gaze fell upon him as he explained, "i will sleep on the couch, don't worry."

"no, i can't do that," you instantly protested, not wanting to compromise his comfort. "i'll sleep on the couch and you can sleep in your bed," you beamed at him, leaving for the living room.

"it's okay y/n, there's plenty of room on the couch for me to sleep on, if that's what you're worried about," he ignored your statement and stood infront of you. "i've fallen asleep there many times."

"but this is just rude of me, first i can't find your address and then i take your bed?" you sadden a bit, backing away from nanami.

"don't forget that i was the one who suggested this," he crosses his arms and looks down at your small form. "sleeping on the couch is my responsibility as well. at least for this week."

he was taking this very seriously, you wanted to argue once more. you looked up at him, ready to take the couch for yourself, but you stopped yourself. it's not as if his stern gaze alone put you in your place. no, he looked completely different when he wasn't working.

hair slightly falling into his face, forearms exposed (courtesy of his rolled up sleeves), the first two buttons of his shirt undone and glasses discarded. his eyes watched you as you observed him, waiting to see if you'll still protest or not.

after a while, you surrenderred and went to his bedroom. "whatever, but don't complain if your back hurts tomorrow. don't forget that i wanted you on the bed!"

"what?" nanami looks at you, confused.

"w-what?" you repeat after him, confused as well. with a sigh, he softly closes your door and leans against the wall.

"change into something more comfortable and come eat. i hope you're not going to run around in your uniform all day," the blonde then walks away to give you some sort of privacy.

you have to admit, you weren't the best with wording, at least he understood that. you hope. it's amazing how he can brush past that situation and go eat. at the same table with you nonetheless.

you were blushing like crazy just remembering the situation, but what makes matters worse was your choice of clothing. it was particularly hot during this time, so you decided to pack just some shorts that were laying around and a shirt that may be too small for you. that shirt was practically a crop-top now.

looking at your new outfit, you seriously thought that maybe being in your school uniform was better after all. you tried to shove all the inappropriate thoughts away as you awkwardly waddled towards the dining area, careful not to show any more skin than necessary.

nanami was still turned towards the counter, and you hoped he could stay like that while you ate and also went back to his bedroom.

"have you ever been to korea? or had korean food?" he suddenly asked, making you jump in your seat.

"no.." you simply answered before elaborating, "but i'd like to try it one day, why?"

"then i'm sorry you have to try it with me first. i made bibimbap for dinner," he explains, head half-tilted towards your direction. "it's not as authentic, but i like it," turning to you, he brings out a bunch of small bowls with vegetables, mushrooms and some sort of sauce, "and it doesn't contain any tomatoes."

"no it's okay! i'm sorry to be of any trouble regarding food," you apologise, smiling as he remembers you don't like tomatoes. "you didn't have to make something so big though."

"don't worry, if you weren't here, i would simply eat the rest tomorrow," he plainly stated, bringing two more huge bowls filled with food.

"wow, it smells great," you noted quietly.

"thank you," he smiled softly, explaining the dish, "it's basically a rice bowl with vegetables and meat on top. i didn't want to bother with the eggs so there aren't any, but usually you do them sunny side up. in the small bowls you serve kimchi and gochujang sauce, as well as more vegetables."

"that's amazing, it looks easy to make as well," you look at all the food on the table, "except cutting the vegetables." you laugh quietly, still mesmerised.

"it looks easy, but you have to manage a few things at once. i can give you the recipe if you want to try it out sometime," nanami suggests, making your eyes light up.

"really? i'd like that very much!" you smile at him, a gesture which he returns.

"of course. now let's eat before the rice gets cold," the man in front of you picks up his chopsticks and you mirror his action.

you both eat in silence, enjoying the foreign dish, before a thought pops into your mind. it's that crossroad, where there wasn't a soul to be seen. it seemed like nanami knew about it and you couldn't help but be curious about it.

swallowing your bite, you anxiously asked, "sir?" getting his attention, you continued. "can you tell me about the place where i got lost?"

nanami thickly swallowed before answering. "it's an abandoned part of town, mainly because people who go there disappear and don't come back," he raised an eyebrow at you, "i think you can imagine why that is."

"cursed spirits?" you meekly ask.

"an unseen amount, yes. the jujutsu sorcerers can't regulate them properly. it seems to be a huge area that attracts them," he explains, looking irritated.

"that's horrible, even more so that they can't find out why it's happening," you ponder about it for a while, but let it go eventually. still, it's going to be stuck in your head.

finishing your food, you stood up to help with the dishes before you were stopped.

"it's alright, y/n. i'll do the dishes, you should rest," nanami sounds out from behind you, collecting the small bowls.

"you should be the one resting, sir. i should do it, you're the one who made such an amazing meal after all," you try to protest again, however this time, nanami just doesn't have the strenght to put up with it.

"then you wash them and i will dry them and put them away, is that fine?" he sighed.

"okay then, but only because i don't know where to put them once i'm done!"

as you start to wash the dirty dishes, nanami stands right beside you. that's when it dawns upon you that you still only have your short tee and shorts on. embarrassed, you fixate your eyes onto the sink and try to forget about your poor choice of clothing.

your mentor of course noticed your outfit but tried to be professional about it. whenever you would finish up washing a dish and hand it over, nanami's fingers would brush over yours in the slightest. it was driving you crazy and you soon started to shiver, even though your hands were under the warm water and your ears were red hot.

"y/n?" the aforementioned man spoke up to you, "are you cold?"

oh, this was a nightmare. "no i'm okay!" you straightened up, trying to keep as still as possible but your body was not taking orders from you anymore.

"you're shivering, is the water cold?" he looked over to you as you nervously smiled. "why are you wearing shorts if you're cold? and such a short shirt," it felt almost as if he was scolding you.

"it's okay, sir, i'm not cold, it's just a shirt that was lying around, i was packing up so quickly i didn't realise," you tried to laugh it off but before you opened your eyes, the man disappeared. shortly after he came back with one of his own shirts and set it down on the other side of the counter.

"it's okay, you can have this one for the time being," he patted your back, took a small bowl and started drying it. not wanting this to be more embarrassing than it already was, you let out a small "thank you" before finishing up the dishes.

heading towards the bathroom to shower and change the godforsaken shirt, he called for you one more time.

"do you want to watch the tv before you go to sleep? i don't have one in my bedroom."

"if you wouldn't mind, then yes," you quickly showered and went back to the living room.

"just put on anything you'd like, i'm going to take a shower," you heard nanami's voice from around the corner before hearing the door close.

"thank you, sir!" you shouted back at him and went to find the remote, stealing nanami's blanket before he comes back.

turning on the tv and finding netflix, you had no idea what to watch. you felt like nothing was interesting and whatever was, you already saw six times. seeing a new crime tv show, you put it on only to be fast asleep after half an episode.

nanami took his time, letting you watch whatever you were watching, but before long he couldn't endure the scorching heat of the shower and came out. finally changing into his casual clothes, he heard gunshots and arguments on the tv. sighing, he made his way to the living room, only to find you sleeping on the couch, remote still in hand.

he pinched the bridge of his nose, not believing the situation. nevertheless, he slowly approached the couch and tried waking you up. to no avail.

"y/n, hey wake up," he shook with you slightly, whispering so you wouldn't be in too much of a shock once you wake up. "y/n!" he whisper-shouted at you a few times, which was obviously also not doing anything.

"i can't believe this kid," he whispered to himself, wrapping you in his blanket more. he then picked you up bridal style and slowly made his way to his bedroom, trying not to stumble.

finally setting you down on his bed, he was prepared to take the other blanket from the bed and leave, when a small hand tugged at his sleeve.

"y/n?" he whispered, not sure whether you were awake by now or not.

when you didn't respond, he decided you were sleeping, so he should go too. that's when your hand tugged at his sleeve again, and he noticed small tears rolling down your cheeks.

his heart skipped a beat at that, but he decided that this wasn't right, and ultimately swiped your tears with his thumb and left. without a blanket at that.

he couldn't believe you slept through all of that. maybe a new student was just what he needed in life.

got a bit of a writer's block but we're so back. i think i might just rewatch jjk for this man(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

[soppingwetlegs]

“Fangirl”

AgedUp!(24) Pro Katsuki Bakugo x Plussized/Quirkless!Fem reader

warnings: swearing, that’s really it. this is the introduction to a story I’ve been thinking about so it’s not too crazy.

Chapter 1:

I was walking home from work like every other day. My apartment wasn’t very far from the mall I worked at so I didn’t mind the trip. I enjoyed my surroundings, most people would hate being in a villain hot spot but it’s a fangirls dream. I was always lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the pros at work so I couldn’t really complain. Tonight was different though, it was quiet. Growing a bit bored on my unusually uneventful trek home I decided to pull out my phone and scroll through TikTok.

*BUMP*

“Oh shit.” I grimaced as I slammed into what felt like a brick wall, but it wasn’t a wall, but a person. The absolute last person I’d expected to run into…it was him, the #15 hero Dynamight. “Watch where you’re goin’ dumbass…” holy shit, holy shit. His deep rough voice echoed through my ears, I could barely think straight. My favorite hero was standing right in front of me. “Say something, say anything, you idiot!” I thought to myself. “H-hi…” are you fucking kidding me? I was mentally screaming at myself right now.

I look from his steel toed boots all the way up to his spikey blonde hair, my gaze was so obvious it was embarrassing but I was so engrossed I truly didn’t care. “Huh? You got a staring problem, extra?” I felt my cheeks run hot, “extra” he called me an extra, this day couldn’t get any better. I struggle to stifle the excited laughter that forces its way past my lips. “I’m so sorry…I just, um…I’m a huge fan, dynamight.” His scowl twitched, is he smiling? Holy shit I think he’s smiling.

“A fan, huh? What, you think just ‘cause you’re a fan I’ll just let ya bump into me?” He said with a dry chuckle. God, he’s so hot. “No! Of course not! I just- I- uh- well…” girl…be so for real. Finally tired of the mortifying stuttering I shut my mouth and pull my phone out, holding it up to him with a pleading expression. “What am I supposed to do with that?” He asks, oh no he looks annoyed. “Could I please get a selfie?” I mumbled. He rolls his eyes and lets out a slight scoff, turning his head and revealing his hearing aid. “The hell are you whispering for?” My eyes widened and I swallow my nerves, speaking up a bit more. “A uh- selfie, please?” He purses his lips in thought. “Will you piss off if I do this for you?” The quickness of my nod gave me whiplash I’m pretty sure but I truly couldn’t control it. With a final roll of his eyes he reluctantly agrees to the selfie and I let out an involuntary squeal before rushing to his side.

This man has gotta be a solid 6’2-6’4. Being that I’m only 5’2 and I knew for a fact he wouldn’t be bothered to squat down, I decided to stand on my tip toes…bad call. I very much lost my balance and fell against his chest. “Tch, come on now!” He grabs my waist and holds me in place next to him. It took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to be sure he couldn’t hear how hard my heart was pounding, with a trembling hand I raise my phone and smile as best as I could before snapping the photo. I try to ignore the longing feeling when his hand leaves my waist and I take a step away. “Thank you! Thank you so so much, dynamight!” I felt like a kid in a candy store. Once again that scowl on his handsome face turned up, I made him smile…AGAIN!

“Yeah, yeah, take it easy, nobody. Now get lost, I have work to do.” I nodded happily and resumed my walk back to my apartment. The feeling in my chest was indescribable, I really just met my favorite hero and got a selfie. I even had an almost conversation with him! What a day. “Hey, extra!” I turned around and looked at him, pointing at myself, earning a nod from him as he approached me. “What’s your name anyways?” He wants to know my name?! “It’s y/n.” I hear him repeat it to himself under his breath. “American, huh?” I rub the back of my neck awkwardly, laughing a bit. “Yeahhh, I’m lame.” He’s laughing, he laughed, oh my god. “Yeah you’re definitely lame, y/n. Cool to meet a real fangirl though, I guess. I normally lose fans once they hear me speak.” He laughed again, what a beautiful sound. “No way, not me.”

“Yeah? Why’s that? You some kinda freak that likes being bullied?” I can’t tell if he’s being serious or not, but I laugh anyways, earning a confused look from him, he was serious…huh. “I wouldn’t say that, I guess I just appreciate how genuine you are. I think it’s cool that you don’t fall into media training. Just cause you’re kinda mean doesn’t make you any less of a hero, ya know?” His scowl returned, oh god oh fuck. “Huh…you’re weird. See you around, loser. Don’t get into trouble or I’ll blast you to hell.” And with that he walked away. I was left standing alone on the sidewalk dumbfounded, did I say something wrong? Perfect…

Still got my selfie, though…

chapter 2

masterlist

[heartj4yn0]

let's go for a walk.

Inspired by an instagram edit i randomly found while scrolling and thought it was cute! It made me feel safe. It made me feel like i was home (mark) and it made me feel like i was him <3 #delusionalczennie haha

You've been reminding Mark to toss the piled rubbish out, but because he's a careless person, of course, he forgot until today. The front door made a beeping sound when he did so. His shadow suddenly appeared over you as you were preoccupied with the television. halting your performance to take notice of his shadow. 

He asked you, "Babe, should we go for a walk?" with excitement. You only responded by humming. He repeated, "Do you want to go for a walk?" Knowing full well that you were preoccupied with who knows what. 

It was a cold wintery day, so you knew you needed to put on those clunky boots and your long padded jacket; you're usually cold. Mark zips up your unzipped jacket, giving you the appearance of a penguin. 

"You ready, babe?" he asks, taking your hand in his and making sure to turn off all lights except the fairy lights so it's not too dark when you guys get home. As soon as you entered the lobby, he informed you that it would be freezing outside. 

You said, leaping up and down, squeezing his gloveless hand, "Dude, it's so cold!" You didn't realize how cold it would be outside because you worked from home today and drank hot chocolate with marshmallows by the fireplace you both finally put together (actually, none of us did, the fireplace people put it together, we don't have the skills, sorry).

"Oiiiiii, it's cold babeeeeeee!!!" and Mark's never-ending "it's cold" and yet you're both still cold, refusing to go back home and warm up with hot chocolate and a hot pack.  

"Wowowow," the cheetah-like man said as you twirled about, attempting to raise your body temperature. As a result of the cold, he made some strange noises. I mean, he requested a walk. During the winter. That's exactly what you get. 

 When the wind blows, Mark immediately zips up his jacket and doesn't want the cold wind to penetrate under his light jacket. He props the camera on selfie mode, trying to take pictures of both of you when the wind ends up making an appearance aka your hair flying to places which wasn't the aesthetic you were going for but we get the gist. you've taken a mental note to print them and frame them as memoirs of the cold weather.

“It’s cold, it’s so cold~~~” he was vlogging and twirling around at the same time, it was your tradition vlogging these little moments then compiling them to be posted to your private youtube channel where your family members and friends could enjoy your chaotic yet calm daily lives. (the camera shaked more than your booty// bye im sorry)

After an hour in the cold, you decided it was time to go home because baby cheetah (mark) was tired and sleepy and hungry. You chuckled looking at his tired expression but you were glad he asked you out. No matter how cold it was, you’re always warm with him <3 

—ahhhh i'm back!!!!!!!!!! the fact that i have so many unfinished drafts is making me sad T.T but it's okay, good things take time!!! and i've been super busy :(!!!

love, erin <3

[ultra-raging-ghost]

op the best thing your parents can do is get the divorce bless, im sorry about the fighting :( i get you it's the WORST but at least you got to play a cool game🔥🔥 now cmon spill some batjokes go go go

this is the FUNNIEST ask to get without context and i feel like im finally living up to the expectations of an ao3 author, also ty anon i was just super fucking stressed, i got an hour of sleep sunday night/monday morning and then when i was at my friends place i crashed really hard and slept for 14 hours straight and it really helped but anyway okay BATJOKES

okay so i played both seasons i dont have a pc myself but my friend does and they have both seasons and brooooo..... i played the vigilante joker route and i loved it

i sacrificed the FUCK out of catwoman im ngl.... my friend was so surprised but dude i was SO DOWN BAD FOR JOHN!!!!!! IDGAF !!! i was so down bad for john the whole time dude and at the end it was like "oh you were manipulating him into thinking you liked him to get info" NO!!!! I WANTED TO FUCK HIM!!!!!!!

when harley debuted i chose the option of asking john if he was in love with me AND HIS ASS SAID NO BUT ISTG HE WAS IN DENIAL!!! PURELY BECAUSE HE BELIEVED HARLEY TO BE HIS SOULMATE, SHE HIT HIM SHE DOESNT DESERVE HIM LIKE I DO !!!!!

like at some point with catwoman i chose something like against her for john and i was in the MINORITY like it was a 95%/5% Ratio and i was in the 5% and i do NOT regret that shit ‼

otherwise aside from my mental illness about batjokes i had a lot of unpopular opinions according to the peanut gallery (my irl who was watching me play it) like im ngl i gave up batman to keep alfred like HES OUR DAD???? THATS OUR DAD RIGHT THERE AND HIS POINTS WERE VALID, IMMA LISTEN TO HIM HES SMART IDK.....

Otherwise dude... i felt SO bad for harvey (2face)!!!!!! aside from his main storyline (i was very merciful and understanding with him, actually i saved him over catwoman in that one scene so his face didnt get fucked up just his arm in the fire) i read his file on the gotham news reports and dude..... like everything surrounding him is just SO SAD

Also i cannot say this enough tbh i side with mr. freeze every time.... i may be a sucker for romance but that man was trying his hardest to save his wife and from what ive seen he does that in every iteration of batman, like he becomes a villain and gets into illegal shit because his wifes sick and idk man..... like even if he is a villain i really empathize with him??? in the playthrough i offered to keep his wife safe and alive and i took mercy on him when he got infected with the virus and i froze him, like i have confidence in him idk.... i know he probably died bc it turned out the reason the riddler survived was because of the cure that also made him go insane but like my fingers are CROSSED!!!!!

also will say the only thing id change was i was kinda iffy about taking that selfie with john at the funeral, like i didnt do it but idk..... afterwards i thought abt taking that back like dude i NEVER WRONGED that man!!!!!! he was my POOKIE!!!!!! and i lowkey feel like him going crazy in the vigilante route was pushed for by the writers bc it felt a lil.... idk..... like forced but i get it its part of the story line......./silly

my friend played the villain!joker route and from what ive heard its EVEN GAYER and they let me watch them play the last 15 minutes of the villain route so i could see how differently they handled selina and that doll scene was kinda.... idkkkk 👀 like heyyyyy/f

i also heard theres a line from harley in the villain joker route about how he could never get over me and how john always liked me better than her which was SO satisfying because i made batman so jealous over her and john hanging out like im ngl i was so up harleys ass in s2

OH OH other thing id change, i wouldnt sip from harleys slushie, i didnt understand why she was offering it to me but now that i know i wouldnt take it ngl, making john jealous was not worth that slushie !!!!!

uhhh thats all, ty anon :D

[sapphic-lycan]

Girls, Goals, Giddy in love // Riley Anderson x Val Ortiz // Chapter 1, she said

*RILEY IS AGED UP. RILEY IS AGED UP. RILEY IS AGED UP!!! SHE'S 16 VAL IS FRESHLY 18!!! PLEASE.*

— — —

Admittedly Riley was terrified for tonight. This was going to be her first real outing with the Firehawks since Hockey Camp, nothing too crazy just a night drive and enjoying a little drink at a public park, but still a scary thing to jump into. Well, of course drinking was optional, an option Riley found herself unlikely to take given how her parents felt about her going out in the first place. Her mom would kill her, and her dad would be super disappointed… so drinking was completely off the table for her. But, on another hand, what if the hawks saw her as lame for not drinking? Some kind of buzz kill? What if say, Carmen, was to offer her a beer or something and give her that expecting look the goalie was known for dishing out. What if Dani offered her a like.. shot or something? What would she do? Would she be laughed at if she.- Riley shut her eyes and took a long, deep breath, her chest rising and falling as she forced those thoughts and the swelling burn of anxiety out of her head for now. The Hawks wouldn't be the type to make her drink. And, even if Dani or Carmen forced something on her, Val would of course shut them down, making sure that they knew the drinking wouldn't be the focus of the night. The night was supposed to be fun! A cool outing with the team, who she looked up to. Her team! She's a Hawk now! She wouldn't let her silly worries ruin that. No matter how many buzzed through her mind at any given time. 

She tugged her Firehawks jacket over her lanky arms and hummed as she looked at herself in the mirror, fixing a few fly-aways from her ponytail and giving herself a quick smell to make sure she didn't.. well stink in front of the team.. again.. She had showered already today, but that was an hour or two earlier and she was always worried about even the concept of smelling bad. As it would seem, she did have a little bit of an odor building up, so she was quick to apply an extra layer of deodorant and spray on a few spritzes of cheap perfume. She also pocketed said perfume, in case the girls decided to smoke. Her parents would literally wring her by the neck if she came home stinking of weed. So, better to be safe than grounded. She filled her pockets with a few other essentials, her wallet, keys, headphones, phone, charger (her dad had been on her ass about that one,) and.. she would bring her chapstick if her jean-bound inventory wasn't full already. Damn charger took up so much space, but it would be impractical to try and bring a bag to put said charger in. The van would be full already with the girls and their drinks, and she would not add to that stress. She set the chapstick back on her bedside table and hummed, running her fingers over the framed photo of herself and her two best friends, Bree and Grace, in their Foghorns uniforms and holding the championship trophy from their last game in middle school. She smiled as the memories of Grace scoring that final goal in the game flooded her senses with pride. God that felt like so long ago now, she hadn't texted them in a little while. Unintentional ghosting was definitely a bad habit of hers, but really she couldn't help it that she constantly forgot. She mentally scolded herself for not texting them before deciding on sending their group chat a little mirror selfie of her outfit. She flashed a braced smile and struck a goofy pose, chuckling to herself as she looked at it and wondered what text to pair with it.

“Going out with my girls tonight!” No, no that could make them feel excluded. She deleted what she typed and tried again, “First real Hawkout! I'll keep you guys updated.” No, they might not know what a Hawkout is. She deleted it again, debating even sending it at all, running her tongue over the bands on her braces as she thought. “Going out with the Firehawks tonight! I'll try not to get into any trouble.” There. Playful banter, enough information to make sense, and an open ending to allow for more conversation. Perfect. She hit send.

— — —

After texting the groupchat for a bit longer, she heard the loud blare of a car horn and rushed outside. She winced at the sound, knowing that it would likely piss off her neighbors and might have woken up a napping baby or two nearby. Her parents were out at the store, lucky for Riley, and said she could go out as long as she was back by eleven. Of course, with the Hawks she genuinely didn't know if they'd actually get her back by eleven but… that didn't matter right now. It's party time! 

Riley waved at the car as she rushed up to it, Val poking her head out the side as she waved to the blonde with a little smirk. The sight of her tan, toned skin in the dim evening light made Riley’s heart flutter in her chest as she waved back. Riley and Val, though not what Riley would consider close, were friends. Val always stood up for her, on and off the ice, and never let anyone older or more bold than Riley shove her around. For a more lean girl, Val got in a lot of fights on Riley's behalf, and Riley would always be grateful for her. That, and the little crush she’d had on her Capitan since hockey camp but… she tried to ignore those flutters any time they came up. 

In the driver's seat, though the van was Dani’s, sat Ayesha, who had her hijab perfectly straightened and makeup perfectly minimal chic as usual. Riley and Ayesha rarely talked, due to her being the more soft antisocial girl of the group,but there have been times where Ayesha offered Riley snacks and water when she forgot. She was also, more often than not,  the team’s designated driver, which explained her current spot in the van, which Riley really liked about her. Ayesha was the responsible one. Behind Ayesha was Carmen, the team's resident hot-headed and Ayesha’s on-again off-again girlfriend, cramped in with her knees to her damn chest because she was so tall. She didn't seem to mind though, and she tossed a little half-smile to Riley as she got in the car. Carmen was mean, all things considered, and has had to be put in her place a time or two by Val for being an ass to Riley in her freshman year. She tended to cool down when she was with Ayesha, though, which she was. At least this week. Which Riley considered a blessing, but she had no idea how Ayesha standed her.

Sitting in the back row was Dani, who was chiefing off her vape like nobody's business and trying to blow rings, Ally, who was attempting to swipe said vape from Dani and whining “give me a hiiiiit!” as the other held it from her reach, and an ungodly tall stack of bags. Dani tended to be the most rowdy of the Firehawks, talking shit, starting shit, and getting her shit wrecked were her three favorite hobbies. She liked to go out, got the most drunk, and often had to be dragged back home when the time came. Riley and her were cool, again after Val had to knock some sense into her for pushing Riley too hard, but now the rambunctious teen was one of her closest friends. Ally though, Ally was Riley's cousin and probably who she was the closest to on the team. They were a lot like her, though making up for her anxiety by being more extroverted and often being the more charismatic of the duo. Ally could talk her way out of anything, even Juvie once. 

Ally leaned back on the bags when the vape was once more pulled from her grasp, flipping the other off as she watched Dani blow more smoke onto the Van’s ceiling. Riley assumed that's where the booze was, but was confused when she noted the other girl’s backpacks in the pile. Did they come from practice or something? Wait, no that's not right, they couldn't have, it's Friday. Maybe they had plans after this? Without her? No, no they'd include her in everything. She's a Firehawk now, she'd be invited to stuff like that. Right..?

“Buckle up, Michigan,” Val called from the front seat, her pointer finger tapping her hand on the battered arm rest twice to gain the attention of her team. God Riley was so frustrated she was stuck with that nickname now, even after telling her team she's from Minnesota and not Michigan, they never let her live it down. The ruckus in the back died down almost immediately, which not only helped Riley relax a bit as she sunk into her seat and clicked on the seatbelt, but also made her look at Val in awe. Riley had no real idea how, but the whole team respected Ortiz even off the ice. Even in just little hangouts, much to Carmen’s usually vocal annoyance, she was the leader. 

“We got three hours to kill before we drop Anderson off at home and head to Ally’s place,” Val said with a little hum, which did unfortunately confirm the rest of the group had plans without her, “then we have the next two days okay?” The next two days? 

“The next two days for what?” Riley asked, a mixture of nervousness and intrigue in her voice. Dani happily hollered, putting a hand on Riley’s chair from behind with a loud slap before she spoke, “two days to party, man! Ally's folks are gone so we're throwing a rager at hers.” Oh, a party. A party Riley wasn't invited to. A party with the older team members, and probably other juniors and seniors, where they'd be drinking and smoking and blasting music and… whatever else teens do at parties. She'd only ever seen them in the movies. And yet, though this sort of thing was something she'd probably never attend normally, she was a bit disappointed she wasn't invited. 

“It's not going to be a rager Dan,” Val said with a little dismissive wave, “it's gonna be a two day long sleepover with the girls and a fuck ton of alcohol and maybe some m-j, but that's it. No inviting the whole class, no trashing Ally’s place, and definitely no hard stuff.” Riley wasn't sure what hard stuff entailed, but the way the rejection made Dani shrink back into her seat with a loud groan made Riley unsure if she wanted to find out. Dani grumped a bit, to which Ally giggled, before leaning over her to speak. “Is Andersen coming?” She asked, her tone sounding a little hopeful, which made Riley smile a bit. She was wanted after all. “I dunno, Andersen’s parents are hella strict,” Val replied, leaning around her seat to make eye contact with Riley, those gorgeous amber eyes sending shivers up the other girl’s spine, “that and she's a little.. good. Y'know? Would you even want to do something like that?” 

Would Riley want to do something like that? No. Yes? Maybe??? It would be so cool to hang out with the Hawks for the whole weekend, but her parents would never agree to it. And what if she ended up drinking or something? Or getting in trouble? But god the Hawks were so cool and they might like her better if she did. But if she didn't go with them, what if they didn't wanna hang out with her anymore? But her parents would kill her, she was so torn yet, 

“Sure.” Riley said as cool as possible, reaching for her phone to text her parents about it before shutting it off and shoving it in her bag. Plausible deniability if they said no, which she knew wouldn't work but was better than leaving her parents rejection on seen. This was probably a horrible, terrible idea, but when was she gonna get an opportunity like this again? An opportunity to hang out like this with the Firehawks, an opportunity to hang out like this with Val Ortiz??? “Okay, cool. But uh, what about clothes? You didn't bring any,” Carmen chipped in, raising an eyebrow at the sudden spontaneousness of the younger teen, who simply shrugged and replied, “I can borrow some of Ally’s. We're cousins after all, it's cool.” “Yeah, it's cool,” Ally chimed in with a wide, mischievous grin, earning a shrug from Carmen. Riley always knew she could count on Ally in times like this, especially given the fact that the sleepover was at her house. Riley felt a lot more comfortable there than anywhere else. Riley had stayed over at Ally’s countless times since they met and their moms rekindled, so at the very least Riley was safe. 

“Well, I guess Anderson is coming,” Val spoke with a cool shrug, her arms relaxing on the rests at her sides as she faced forward, speaking once more with a click of her tongue. “Just know there's no pressure to drink or smoke or anything,” her eyes darted to Dani, who simply put her hands up and snickered as she continued, “you've got nobody to impress.” “I'm probably gonna end up scrubbing puke out of my carpet again, so as long as you can do better than that,” Ally butt in, chuckling as Dani let out an offended gasp at the obvious slight, her hand reaching to swipe the vape and finally take her long awaited hit. Riley laughed a little at the two's bickering, leaning back in her seat and humming along with the music Sophie had now turned up so she could focus. Was she nervous about the sleepover? Obviously. But hell she was excited for it. 

— — —

[purplesurveys]

1930

1.) What was the last strong scent you smelled? The essential oil I currently have for my reed diffuser.

2.) When was the last time you changed your outfit? This morning. I'll change before heading to bed, which I'll do after this. I really need to sleep; it's nearing 2 AM on a Monday.

3.) What did you buy the last time you went shopping for new clothes? Concert outfit for Seventeen back in January. I'm not a big clothes shopper.

4.) What is your favorite meal of the day? Dinner.

5.) Do you typically eat breakfast or skip it? Skip. Unless coffee counts, because I have that everyday.

6.) What was the last thing you took a picture of? A pissed off reaction selfie I took immediately after finishing Gyeongseong Creature 2 (credits weren't even done rolling yet hah).

I spent THE ENTIRE!!!!!!! evening watching it as I was desperate to see what would happen, but the whole season's pacing was so off and there was barely a payoff in the finale...so I took that selfie with the 5 AM blue sky as my background to let everyone know I put in That Much Time for a season that ended up sucking lol

7.) Do you have a collection of anything? BTS merch and bucket hats.

8.) What was the last thing you threw away? The can of coffee I finished.

9.) What is the cause of your current emotional state? The fact that I'm going back to work that I dread in less than 8 hours.

10.) What were the last plans you made? How about cancelled? Last plan I made was to resign, which I announced to my bosses last Tuesday. Last I cancelled was my initial plan to take the dogs to the vet earlier today, because when I checked their booklet it turned out I didn't need to take them til end of the month. I had no idea why I thought they were due today hahaha.

11.) How did you discover your favorite band? They were very huge when I was in Grade 3 and all the cool kids seemed to like them (Paramore).

12.) Does the weather affect your mood? If so, in what ways? Only if it's hot. I get cranky when it's hot and humid and there's no sign of aircon anywhere, and especially so if I haven't eaten.

13.) When are you most likely to be bored? Usually in the afternoon, from around 2-5 PM. Even at work, I get very restless during those hours because I want the day to be done with already.

14.) What was the last big decision you made? Resigning for good. There's a part of me that still thinks it was such a rash, impulsive, barely-thought-of decision to make...but September hit me like a 16 wheeler when it came to my mental health.

I really need to rest. But also, let's hope I find a new place to work in soon :)

15.) Where was the last place you traveled to, and what did you do while there? Vietnam! Saigon and Da Nang. I shopped more than I'd like to admit; walked, walked, and walked; simultaneously celebrated Jin's military discharge; drank a lot of coffee; discovered and fell in love with bánh tráng nướng (I still look for it...); took lots of photos.

16.) What is your favorite thing to go shopping for? Not much. I'm not a big shopper unless I'm traveling, in which case I like getting local knickknacks and snacks.

17.) How organized are you? I'd say a 7/10. I'm fairly organized, but I do have the tendency to lose track.

18.) What were the positives and negatives of your last week? Positives: I informally filed my resignation. I also...just survived.

Negative: I woke up every day of the week, save for the weekend, with a crushing weight on my chest.

19.) If applicable, how did you decide what you wanted to study in college/university? I liked to write and was good at it, and I've always enjoyed watching documentaries. It seemed like the obvious choice to make. I also came from a family of writers and lawyers, and I just wanted to continue the practice, albeit through an adjacent route.

20.) What was the last thing you received in the mail? Shopee orders but they were both for my sister lol.

21.) What is one of your wildest dreams or ambitions? Travel to the US alone.

22.) When was the last time you performed in front of a group of people? No clue. High school, maybe?

23.) Who was the last person to upset you? How about the last person to cheer you up? Upset would be someone related to my work. Cheer up...Namjoon.

24.) Is there anything or anyone you’re trying to get over or let go of? Yes. My current job.

25.) What was the subject of your last phone conversation? My grandma let me know she made me laing and asked me to come over to pick it up when I can. Apparently my mom asked her to make it...I'm guessing she did so because I recently shared with her my work troubles, and it's her way of helping me feel better. In any case, and whether my theory is right or wrong, the gesture is appreciated.

26.) What are your plans for tomorrow? How about the weekend? Tomorrow I need to work. I'm also working on the weekend. Both days.

27.) When was the last time you were sick? Sometime last month I threw up like 101% the contents of my stomach from food poisoning.

28.) How close do you have to be with someone before you’ll consider them a friend? If I feel comfortable approaching them first and share with them stupid stuff like memes.

29.) What did the last jacket you wore look like? Green and with the right sleeve decorated to look like the Philippine flag. It's a jacket I was given by one of the brands I handle; and we usually have to have it on during our more formal events like contract signings so that we can also be 'in-attire' and look the part as their PR reps.

30.) Name five things you can grab from where you’re sitting. Vape pen, Oatside coffee, phone, a BTS frame, highlighters.

[loveisnotovertae]

Love Is Not Over

✏️Taehyung x OFC ✏️Friends to Lover AU 🛑 Rated 18+ 📖WC: 2490 ⚠️Mentally abusive and controlling ex, stalking, mention of anxiety cheating, COVID, drinking, drunk hookup, masturbation, oral, accidental marriage, accidental pregnancy⚠️

Mae always wanted to go to South Korea and visit all the places her Aunt and Uncle used to tell her stories about. So after catching her fiancè cheating, she did just that. Her two month trip turned into a permanent stay thanks to covid lockdown. A friendly neighbor turned best friend, who just so happened to be part of the biggest music group in the world. A drunken night that changed her life forever.

Chapter 10

“How many damn pictures do you have on here?” Taehyung asked, sitting on the couch with his food.

“I don’t know,” Mae shrugged, taking a bite of hers. “It’s the phone that I bought when I decided to stay in Korea. So, three years worth.”

“You should’ve gotten a new laptop then, too.” he said watching the number of downloads slowly rise. “By the time this is done, we’ll be in the States.”

“It’s not that bad.” Mae pouted.

“Mae, Tae has a point. It’s been an hour.” Hoseok said, walking out of the kitchen with a freshly opened bottle of wine.

“How much longer does it say, Taehyung?” Mae asked holding up her glass to be refilled.

All eyes in the room looked at Taehyung when he didn’t answer.

“Kim Taehyung!” Veronica yelled from her spot on the floor causing him to jump.

“Hmm,” Taehyung’s face reddened when he saw everyone looking at him.

“What on earth has you spacing out so hard over there?” Kimberleigh asked in curiosity.

D leaned over Yoongi, looked at the computer and chuckled. “Yep, that’ll do it.” she said before sitting back.

“What is it?”

“Mae in lingerie.” Yoongi said, taking a sip of his whisky.

Mae let out a squeal and quickly stood to grab the computer. She picked it up off the table and sat down on the arm of the couch with the screen away from everyone else.

“Which shoot was it?” Veronica asked, standing beside her.

“Judging by the bed, they are from Jeju,” Taehyung said before taking a drink from Mae’s glass.

“Is that why you were staring at it for so long?” Jungkook teased, “Trying to remember your wedding night?”

“We are not married, Jungkook!” Mae said, sending him a death glare which only made him laugh.

“Umm, Mae.” Veronica tapped her shoulder, “You might want to retract that statement.”

“What?” Mae’s face scrunched as she turned to look at her friend.

“Look at the pictures that just loaded in.”

Mae slowly turned her head to the computer on her lap. The first set of pictures she saw were selfies of her and Taehyung at the Jazz Club. She slid off the arm and sat next to Taehyung on the couch when she finally saw what Veronica was talking about.

“Oh, fuck me…” she whispered, putting her hand over her mouth.

There, on the screen, was the proof she’d been looking for, but it wasn’t going to prove Dispatch wrong. It was going to prove them right.

“What is it, Mae?” Jimin asked.

“It’s…umm…well,” Mae cleared her throat, “It’s me with a cheap veil, standing next to Taehyung, and we are getting married.”

“We’re, WHAT?” Taehyung grabbed the laptop from her.

“You're joking right?” Seokjin asked, wide-eyed.

“She’s not joking. There’s a video too. And…” Taehyung brought the computer closer to his face, “I think that’s us signing the papers.”

“Let me see that.” Namjoon said, taking the computer out of his hands and sitting on the furthest end of the couch.

Mae stared off into space while her friends huddled around Namjoon looking at the pictures.

“Mae,” Taehyung put his hand on her shoulder causing her to jump, “Are you ok?”

“What the fuck did we do, Taehyung?”

Taehyung looked over at their friends who were busy chatting and looking at the computer. “Come on,” he said, standing and taking her hand, “Let’s go talk where it’s less noisy.”

Mae let him guide her to her bedroom, where she immediately fell face first into her bed while he closed the door.

She let out a frustrated yell into her mattress and kicked her legs. They had actually done it. They got drunk and were married.

“What the hell did we do, Mae?” Taehyung asked, laying on the bed next to her.

“We fucking got married, Tae,” she said turning her head to look at him, “We got drunk and got married.”

“What the hell was drunk “us” thinking?” he asked, moving her hair out of her face.

“That we would find it amusing, evidently.”

“It kind of is, actually. Sober you hates me a good chunk of the time. Drunk you must really love me to get married.”

“I’ve never hated you, Tae,” Mae sighed and rolled to her back. “You’re just a pain in my ass most days.”

“Well you're not always a ray of sunshine either, wife.”

Mae couldn’t help but laugh at being called his “wife”.

“What are we going to do?”

Taehyung looked at his watch and sighed. “I’ll have to call my lawyer tomorrow on my way to the airport to see what we should do. It’s late, and I don’t want to disturb him.”

“You mean like an annulment?” Mae asked, turning to look at him.

“Well, yeah. Unless you want to stay married to me.” A smile tugged on his lips when he turned his head to look at her.

“Won’t that look bad on you though? I mean, us drunkenly getting married already looks bad, but won’t it look worse if we end it so quickly?”

“Just admit that you like the idea of being married to me, Mae.” Taehyung rolled to his side and looked at her with a big smile.

“Don’t be a jerk,” she chuckled and smacked his chest.

“What about you, Mae? Aren’t you worried about your reputation?”

“People will eventually forget about the American temptress who got V of BTS drunk and tricked him into marrying her.”

“Hey! Who said I didn’t trick you?” Taehyung asked. “I am just as much to blame as you are.”

“Taehyung, I'm a nobody compared to you.”

“Don’t say that. You aren’t a nobody.”

“HERE, TAKE IT!” The two of them jumped when Jimin flung the door open and ran into the room.

“Get your ass back here, Park Jimin!” Veronica yelled from down the hall.

“Take it, Mae. Hide it. Destroy it. Do something with it, quickly!”

“What are you talking about?” Mae asked, taking the computer from him and putting it on her desk.

“We were watching one of the videos and the two of you started moaning. A lot…”

“What?” Taehyung asked, quickly sitting up.

“Come again?” Mae turned and looked at the frantic man.

“We didn’t see anything. I grabbed the computer and ran once the moaning started,” he said, leaning backwards a little to look out the door.

“Park Jimin!”

“Hurry, she’s coming. I’ll try and fight her off,” he said before quickly turning and running out of the door.

Mae grabbed the SD card from the computer and frantically looked around for a place to hide it.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked.

“I need to find a place to put it before she gets in here.”

“Give it here. I’ll take it with me.”

“Nope, not happening. I don’t know what’s on it,” she said, sprinting for her bathroom when she saw Veronica’s shadow on the wall coming closer.

“Where is she?”

Before Veronica could step into the room Taehyung ran towards the bathroom. The two of them reached the door just in time to see Mae flush something down the toilet.

“You flushed it?” Taehyung asked in shock.

“She wouldn’t,” Veronica said, pushing past him and searching around the bathroom.

Mae went and stood by Taehyung in the doorway.

“It’s gone, Ronnie,” she said, crossing her arms and watching her friend.

“For the love of…Ronnie! What are you doing?” Kimberleigh asked, looking over Taehyung and Mae’s shoulders.

“The bitch flushed it!” Veronica huffed, giving up her search.

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

Mae laid in her bed and stared at the ceiling. The guys left hours ago and the three other women were fast asleep. With the house now silent everything was finally sinking in. Her mind was in a constant swirl of the events that unfolded over the past few hours and trying to remember what happened that night. She hadn’t even looked at all the pictures yet.

Her phone's notification sound brought her out of her thoughts. She rolled over and grabbed it from her night stand.

Taehyung: I can’t sleep. How about you?

Mae: Go to sleep, Tae. It’s two in the morning and you have a plane to catch in five hours.

Taehyung: I can sleep on the flight. You’re replying so I’m assuming that you can’t sleep either?

Mae: No, my brain won’t shut up long enough for me to.

Taehyung: I know you didn’t flush the SD card.

Mae: Kim Taehyung, are you calling me a liar?

Taehyung: Maybe. I think I know where you hid it too.

Mae couldn’t see his face but she knew he was smiling.

Mae: Ok, I’ll play along. Let's say I didn’t flush the card. Where did I put it?

Taehyung: Open your door and I’ll show you.

Mae: Excuse me?

Taehyung: I’m coming up the elevator now. Open your front door.

Mae: Not until you say please.

Taehyung: I’m stepping out now. I watched Jin type in the code earlier. I could let myself in, wake Veronica and tell her you lied to her.

Mae threw the blankets off and jumped out of bed. As quickly and quietly as she could, she ran to the front door. When she opened it, she found a smiling Taehyung waiting for her.

“Please,” he whispered in her ear, walking past her to take off his shoes.

Mae followed behind him as he walked with confidence to her room. She quietly shut the bedroom door before hurrying around her bed and following him to the bathroom.

“I thought you knew where I put it?” Mae asked, watching him walk around with his hands behind his back.

“I do,” he answered smugly.

“Then where is it?”

Taehyung stopped next to the shower and sent Mae a smile.

“You know, I came in here between phone calls.” he said, stepping into the shower and grabbing one of the bottles. “This bottle wasn’t in here, it was over there, in the trash.” he pointed to the can in the corner of the room. “Now I don’t know how you…why the hell do you have one of these in your bathroom?” Taehyung asked, pulling a little ziplock baggie out of the empty shampoo bottle.

“It was on my desk. I picked it up before I ran in here,” Mae answered proudly. “Where are you going?”

“To look at the pictures,” he said, stopping in front of her, “I know you’re as curious as I am. Don’t worry, I brought my computer.”

“You did?”

Taehyung turned on her lamp and pointed at the bag he’d tossed on the bed. She was in such a hurry to follow him she didn’t even see that he had it on him.

“Are you going to join me?” he asked, making himself comfortable.

Mae watched Taehyung set up his computer. She was extremely curious about what was on there from that night, she’d planned on looking at them tomorrow when she was alone.

“Let’s see what other stupid things we did that night,” Mae said, joining him on the bed.

“Look how fast that’s going.”

“I know, I know. I need a new computer.” Mae rolled her eyes.

“Wait, why didn’t Veronica just take your computer to look at the pictures? They were downloaded.”

“She tried to after you guys left. But I refused to give her the password.”

“Before we start scrolling, is there anything on here that you don’t want me to see?” he asked, “I didn’t get a good look at all the pictures earlier.”

“You mean like nudes?”

“Yes, or anything else.”

“There’s no nudes Tae, I have no reason to take any.”

“Just checking,” Taehyung said, opening the folder.

The first thing he clicked on was a video someone took of them dancing at the Jazz club. They were clearly drunk, but still enjoying themselves.

The next video was of them getting married. The two of them watched it, still in disbelief that it was actually them standing there drunkenly saying their vows.

They both laughed as they looked at the hundreds of photos they’d taken. They even tried to figure out the blurry ones.

Taehyung hesitated when they came across the last video.

“Go ahead, Tae.”

“Are you sure? According to everyone else, it might be us having sex.”

“Yes, I’m sure. One if not both of us are going to end up watching it, so we might as well do it together,” Mae said, hitting the play button.

The video started with them talking and laughing as they walked up the long driveway to the house. Their laughter grew louder as Mae tried several times to put in the passcode for the door. The two of them doing a somewhat silent cheer when she’d finally succeeded.

The camera swayed as they stumbled through the house to the room they shared.

“You didn’t carry me over the threshold.” A drunk Mae said, setting her phone on the pillows.

“Well you didn’t kiss me at the chapel.”

“I’ll kiss you now if you’ll go back outside with me and carry me back in,” Mae said playfully.

“Deal,” Mae shrieked when Taehyung picked her up.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to carry you out and then carry you back in.”

“But that’s the patio door,” she laughed.

“You didn’t say which door.”

The sound of their laughter came through the speakers as Taehyung carried Mae outside and then back in.

“Better?” he asked, letting her down and closing the door.

“Yes, thank you,” Mae said, steadying herself and going back toward the bed.

“No you don’t,” Taehyung grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. “You owe me a kiss.”

Both of their eyes widened when Mae didn’t put up a fight. At first it was just a playful peck. But then it quickly turned into a heavy make out session. The phone moved when they landed on the bed in a fit of laughter.

Mae’s face turned red when her room filled with the sounds of moaning, kissing, and heavy breathing.

There was a thump sound followed by Mae saying “stupid phone” before the phone was moved and placed on the table.

Now all they could see was Taehyung’s back as the two of them went back to the now very heated makeout session.

“Tae, please. I need you.” Mae whined.

“Oh, God,” Mae said, looking at the screen.

“Fuck, Mae,” Taehyung said breathlessly, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that.”

“Please,” Mae moaned.

“God, I so badly want to. But I can’t. Not while we’re drunk,” his muffled voice said. “I want to remember the first time we made our dream come true.”

Before the video ended they watched a messy haired Taehyung let out a frustrated groan and got up from the bed, mumbling something about going to sleep on the couch because it was safer.

[leejenowrld]

What’s Jeno’s morning routine like? How does his need for control permeate into his daily routine?

(college era)

⏰ wake up: before the alarm

jeno rarely needs an alarm. he wakes between 5:45 and 6:10 a.m., always in that same window.

it’s not natural. it’s trained. his body is used to bracing for the day — even in his sleep, he’s preparing.

he sits up without hesitation. no snoozing, no scrolling, no lying still. the room stays dim, curtains still drawn, but he moves like the day’s already started.

the first thing he does is fix the bed. tight corners. pillows fluffed. blanket aligned with the edge of the mattress. if it’s not right, he’ll redo it. always.

🚿 bathroom: cleanse, contain, reset

cold shower first. he tells people it’s for muscle recovery, but the truth is he doesn’t trust warm water when he’s got things to prove.

body wash is unscented, shampoo is medicated, razor blades always fresh. his towel is hung symmetrically and he folds it again once he’s done — once horizontally, once vertically.

his toothbrush sits in a charging cradle, never loose, and the toothpaste is squeezed from the bottom like he’s terrified of waste.

no mirror selfies. he doesn’t look in the mirror — he scans. checks for puffiness, blemishes, uneven skin tone. no flaws allowed to linger.

👕 outfit: function first, control second

jeno doesn’t believe in throwing something on. his clothes are pre-stacked the night before — each layer laid out in order of wear.

if it’s a game day:

fitted undershirt

ravens jersey

game jacket rolled and tucked into his bag (always packed the night before)

compression socks — left foot first

if it’s class or a meeting:

pressed button-down

tailored pants with crease aligned

shoes wiped down with a microfiber cloth, soles checked for debris

he never wears patterns unless they’re team-issued. color = distraction. his control = in the uniformity.

☕ breakfast: no fuss, no variance

exact same breakfast every weekday:

two eggs (boiled, no salt)

half a banana

protein shake with almond milk, no sweetener

vitamins taken in a strict order: d3, omega-3, magnesium

everything is placed on a cloth napkin, not the table. he hates crumbs, hates noise.

he eats standing up when he’s running drills in his head. sometimes forgets the second half of the banana. doesn’t notice. doesn’t care.

🎧 mental warm-up: same playlist, same path

the playlist never changes. it’s six songs he’s listened to every morning since freshman year. he doesn’t even like one of them anymore — but it’s part of the ritual.

he brushes his hair with his headphones in, never out of sync. four brushes each side, then back, then forward.

if he walks to campus, he takes the exact same path, crosses at the same light, avoids one specific crack in the pavement near the quad entrance.

if he drives:

mirrors adjusted before ignition

window down 3 inches

seatbelt click before reverse

no music until the second traffic light

🕶 final checks: armour on

before he leaves the dorm, he:

applies lip balm (twice)

sprays cologne once at the neck, once on his wrist — never over his shirt

wipes his phone screen with a microfiber cloth

locks the door, checks the handle three times to confirm

his last glance in the mirror isn’t for looks — it’s for readiness. no creases, no distractions, no visible tells. just the face he needs the world to see. calm. unreadable. clean.

✖️ if something disrupts him

he doesn’t yell. he doesn’t spiral. but his body reacts first. tighter grip on the towel. jaw clenched while brushing his teeth.

if something spills, he overcorrects — wipes the whole counter even if it was just a drop.

he’ll leave five minutes earlier than necessary just to feel ahead.

if y/n interrupts him — accidentally knocks the water bottle off the table or tugs his hoodie when he’s in the zone — he’ll flinch at first. eyes narrow. breath held. but if she touches his waist or says his name softly, jeno, he’ll pause. kiss her forehead. adjust. for her, he’ll adapt.

[itsventika]

What's the Vibe? 2.14.25

January is OFFICIALLY over. and god did it feel like it took forever. Now that we're halfway through February, lets see what the vibe has been!

What I've Been Up To:

Aside from trying to literally SURVIVE this insanely hellish place that is Earth, I've also been trying to at least make some time for things that bring me joy. I know times are extremely scary right now with everything going in the states, and while yes, we should be scared right now, we have to remember to try to take care of ourselves, both physically and mentally. I've been trying to make sure I'm still staying informed with the atrocities that are going on, but also still limiting how much time I dwell or doomscroll, making sure I make time for my loved ones and doing fun things. Now is the time to build community and rely on each other for support and a shoulder to lean on. And I just want any and all of my mutuals to know, that I am always going to be a safe space and I am forever giving you guys hugs from way over here.

Updated Selfie - I'm cute, I know. :P

Improv Class - Next week is my final class for Improv 1, and it's been SOOOOOO much fun. The art of thinking on your feet, and not thinking as hard as I usually have to has been something I've grown to love. Also, just doing the ugly things and not caring if you look silly or what other people are going think has been great. I'm definitely looking forward to going further with improv and acting overall.

Workspace Vibes - I've been thrifting hardcore to make my space feel exactly how I want it to. And so far, we're looking phenomenal! My movie collection is growing rapidly and my plants are thriving, so I have nothing to complain about!

& 5. Current designs I'm working on to add to the shop - I've been wanting to do more NSFW designs, fangirly stuff and then of course more designs geared towards my fellow black girls! I haven't been feeling very wrestly lately, so I'm not sure how much deathmatch or wrestling related stuff I'll be adding to shop, but you never know!

Music

Omar Apollo: If Omar isn't my top played artist for the first quarter of the year, something is terribly terribly wrong. Because he's been on repeat since the end of last year and I still just can't get enough. My obsession started when I heard Hit Me Up with him, Dominic Fike and Kenny Beats. And then it just spiraled from there. Spite is probably my forever favorite, along with Ice Slippin and Live For Me.

Abra: Okay, so I've been a fan of Abra for yearsssss. And it's been a minute since I listened to her music. I was watching Assassination Nation the other day when I remembered that I still followed her on instagram and decided to take a trip down memory lane. Goddddd she is amazing. Her entire album Rose is such a vibey experience. I think my faves are U Kno, Pride and $hot.

Lola Young: I will forever love how authentically herself Lola is. When I first heard Don't Hate Me, I was like 'Okay, this is cool' and then I moved on. And then of course the social media rulers kept throwing Messy in my face, and yep. I loved it. It's definitely in my rotation heavily. So I finally decided to give the entire album "This Wasn't Meant For You Anyway" a listen and Conceited?! Chokehold. That's what that song has had me in. It makes me think of a movie scene where there's a car chase and it's all dark and moody, and the driver is speeding down the highway in the rain constantly looking back to see if they've lost the person chasing them. Idk.. that's just the vibe I get cause the song is to simply put it cool. And then I listened to You Noticed, and I died. That song hit every piece of my heart and I actually cried because it really resonated with some life situations I've had going on. Lola is just so great. Thanks for listening to my rant lol.

Pet Shop Boys: West End Girls has been stuck in my head for over a month if I'm being 1000% honest. I really wish I was a teen in the 80s because they just had some of the best music, movies and overall aesthetics. They were just so fucking cool. And Pet Shop Boys proved that with West End Girls.

TV/Movies

Arcane: I was bullied (not really lol) by my coworkers to watch this show. Usually I don't watch a lot of animated things, and if I do, it's more like 80s-90s cartoons because that's the kinda art that I enjoy. But I gave in and gave Arcane a shot, AND I GOT MY HEART BROKEN!!! I can't think of another show that has broken me (other than Sons of Anarchy) the way this show has. Powder just wanted to help and literally everyone died and GOD was it one of the saddest moments I've ever seen. Vi never meant to leave her sister, and watching them have to work so fucking hard to get some sort of a bond back? Crushed me. Also, I know I know.. Silco is a "villian" but he really loved Jinx, 100% as she was, and that meant so much to me. To have someone love you wholeheartedly with all of your flaws or imperfections is so rare, and he really loved her as his own. They can never make me hate him, and I absolutely shed a tear when he died. Vi is hot. She's my favorite lol. We're just going to ignore the fact that she fell in love with a cop and joined forces with them and focus solely on how badass of a character she was. She wasn't afraid to throw hands and always fought for what she loved. There's so much about this show I can rant on about. From how everything could have been prevented if Jace had just listened to Viktor from the beginning, to how literally Viktor went on to try and create a hive mind and how TERRIFYING that is, or how it was honestly so cruel of that scientist guy to have kept Vander alive all that time and turn him into a monster and when we thought he would be saved again, we were left crushed. He didn't deserve that. The girls didn't deserve that. How dare they! Anyway.. I will never recover from this show. And this is exactly why I don't watch new things lol.

Honorable Mentions:

Sing Street: This movie was cute! It wasn't at all what I was expecting, but I loved it and it was a fun watch. I'm pretty sure I only put it on cause the guy from Wayne was in it and I needed background noise, but I ended up giving it my full attention lol.

Erin Brockovich: I kept seeing clips of this on TikTok, so I finally gave it a chance since it was on Tubi. Julia Roberts is just so great. Her performance of a single mom of three who basically goes in and demands a job at this law firm place and then goes on to uncover this crazy contaminated water scandal was phenomenal! And her outfits (which her coworkers tried to judge her for) were so hot. To find out this was a true story is even better! I LOVE badass women who don't take no for an answer and stand up for things they believe in.

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