#my mind can be changed for some but not all
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Tip of my Tongue - Azriel/single mom reader
He puts you out of his mind.
Or tries to, at least. His thoughts stray, at night, in quiet moments, and he catches himself thinking about you, wondering if he should have done more, pushed harder, tried to get you to talk to him even though he understands your reluctance. It didn’t surprise him how you avoided his eyes, turned away.
Illyrians both hate and fear him, and Azriel despises them in return.
Cauldron only knows how you may have suffered in their hands.
It’s not his business.
Illyrians are not unwelcome in Velaris, it is your right to live in the city if you so choose.
Let it go.
His effort is in vain, crumbling only two days later when he comes across you on the street, half open bag spilled out across the sidewalk.
Leave her be, it’s not your business, not your-
You’re crouched, baby in one arm while trying to gather up your things with another, and without thinking, he swoops down at your side, picking them up quicker than you can protest. “Are you alright?”
This time, there’s no opportunity for you to cut him off, or run. He’s holding a stuffed rabbit in his hand.
“Yes, I’m…” you reach for the toy, rising to stand at the same time, and blood rushes in his ears. “We’re okay, thank you.” You watch him carefully, but for some reason, less guarded than that day in the market, a little more brave, open.
“I’m Azriel.” You probably already know that, he’s sure.
You bite your bottom lip and practically whisper your own in return before bouncing the baby on your hip. “This is Luna. Or Lulu.” You cup her cheek, and her head tips back, wonder in her eyes as she stares at you.
It does something to him, breaks a dam of emotion inside his heart, warmth flooding through his body from fingers to toes, and his voice is rough when he speaks.
“She’s beautiful.”
“Thanks, she’s a handful.” You hoist her higher, wincing. “And heavy. Aren’t you, Lu?” You smile, but it barely touches your eyes, their corners tight with stress.
He wants to know why, wants to know you-
wants to fix it.
“Thanks for,” you gesture to the bag with your free hand, “helping. And for yesterday, too. You didn’t have to.”
“He was ripping you off.” He’s stern, almost reproachful, and you avert your eyes, guilt pinging through his bones as a result. He shouldn’t expect you to be able to hold your own in a city who undoubtedly turns their nose up at you. You’re vulnerable here, to no fault of your own. He shouldn’t chastise you for it, so he switches tactics. “Do you live in the city?” You nod.
“We’ve been here for a few weeks.” You shift uneasily. There’s so much left unsaid, and he wants to peel away the layers hiding it all, dig to the bottom and learn every bit of it.
Of you.
“Which village?” Your gaze turns bleak and then clears, clouds revealing the sun.
“Stoneguard.” His control is the only thing that smothers his surprise. Stoneguard.
No wonder you were so tense in the Palace. No wonder you practically ran away.
It’s an insular northern village with its own camp, positioned deep in the mountains, sheltered by rock and forest. One of the most brutal, and backwards, one of few still left unchanged. The miniscule progress happening in Windhaven and Ironcrest is still progress, but it doesn’t reach the more isolated villages or their camps. Rhys’ and their efforts to corral them, change them, have been in vain for centuries. They subscribe to the traditional practices, brutality and clipping, abuse running rampant without care.
You grimace, like you can read his mind, and another thought occurs, striking his soul with dread.
How did you get here? You have no wings. Did you walk, all this way, with Luna? Alone?
“I have to get going,” you break through his spiral with an apologetic glance, “she’ll need to go down for a nap here soon.” As if she insists on making your point, Luna’s lashes flutter, eyes struggling to stay open.
“Right, of course.” He should let you go, should be satisfied by your answers, but the brief interaction only leaves him wanting more. Leave her be, leave her be, leave her- ��Have you seen much of Velaris?” You blink, and shake your head. “I could… show you around, if you’d like.” Luna hiccups, a high pitch frequency akin to a squeak, and a smile tugs at his mouth, trying to pull it upward into something genuine. It’s a hard fought battle for a male who rarely does such a thing. You stare at him, considering, examining, like you’re trying to peer inside his soul and determine if he’s to be trusted, and then you sigh.
“Okay.”
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Lil question(that you don’t have to answer) but what did morrible do to Glinda?(with your head canons ofc)
Hmm, what didn’t Morrible do?~
I’m still trying to work out the details of this but…
Short Answer: she fucks that girltwink up.
Long Answer:
At Shiz, Morrible was working hard to build Elphaba up so that she would go along with her hidden agenda, and it was working very effectively too.
Then things changed and now Morrible has Glinda to train instead. The nurturing and encouragement Elphaba received? That’s not needed here, no. What Morrible attempts to do to Glinda is break her, because someone that high up will only listen if they’re ‘humbled’.
So her plan goes as follows:
1. WITHER:
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Morrible only has one agenda in mind for Glinda. She needs to break everything about that woman, and break she does. It’s not just mentally and emotionally, it’s physically as well with long days spent practicing sorcery. Every failed spell is swiftly dealt with until Glinda is left with battered hands and frustration welling behind her eyes. Weeks and weeks of this eventually numb her to any comforts of this new life.
2. FEAR:
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Because she’s the beloved Good Witch, Glinda feels a sense of value. That she can eventually be irreplaceable and in turn, protected. Morrible works very hard to let her know that with every waking moment they spend together is but a living nightmare for the Upland woman. A lesson turns into a deliberate assault with no one around to bear witness, nor anyone to care to investigate the screams that echo in the hallways. The Wizard needs Glinda alive, not well.
3. SNAP:
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Years and years of this and Glinda never fully relent, testing Morrible’s patience of all things. As long as Elphaba is out there, Glinda holds out hope. By now the sight of Glinda will set Morrible off and in one occurrence she doesn’t realize her emotions have caused a storm to brew outside, a single bolt of lighting breaking through the windows to strike Glinda. She survives, the Wizard is very inconvenienced, and Morrible decides to simply just keep her distance from the Good Witch from then on.
Glinda gets the last laugh in the end. The Wizard is gone and Morrible tries to have Glinda executed in an attempt to grab power before she could. She learns far too late what Glinda shares with the Wizard; popularity. The people rebel and Morrible’s reign ends as quickly as it starts, left to rot in the dungeons of the palace while Glinda becomes the new ruler.
——————
As my favorite tag ever once said: Madame Morrible is never seeing heaven :)
Hopefully this made sense. I didn’t trust my words so I made some pictures to go with it. Anyways ask me about my scarecrow au.
#fooze#wicked fanart#wicked the movie#wicked the musical#wicked#gelphie#in spirit cause elphaba the only reason Glinda is stickin around she her gatsby green light#glinda upland#glinda the good witch#madame morrible#I FUCKED UP THE REFLECTION ( ・ᴗ・̥̥̥ ) I zuko’d her scar. it’s on the wrong side. IGNORE MY INABILITY TO MIRROR THINGS#thank you for the ask!#I just genuinely believe Morrible hates Glinda enough to abuse her#you fuck up my plans? I fuck up your life. that kinda vibe#since glinda is my favorite she gets the highest honor of being the h/c target 😌
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Cockwarming w/ Squid Game 2 Men (500 Followers Special)
warning: smut, obviously | not proofread | lowercase intended | cockwarming | sub/dom! reader (depending on the character) | mommy kink | degradation | praise | these are my headcanons + interpretations of these characters, please be respectful even if my opinions on the characters differ from your own
characters: nam-gyu (player 124), thanos/choi su-bong (player 230), park min-su (player 125)
(red = sub!reader | blue = dom!reader)
A/N: HOLY MOLY!! thank you all so much for 500! i truly cannot fathom all the support and i am eternally grateful. i figured i should do something special to celebrate this milestone, so here you go! many fans will be pleased to see i am writing for several beloved squid game men from the second season! i hope you all enjoy, as always. and again thank you all SOOO MUCH!!!
MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised
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➤ nam-gyu (player 124)
➛ if you thought you’d have any sort of say in moving while you cockwarm nam-gyu— think again. he’ll hold you in place himself if he senses you getting impatient, but he knows you’re not stupid enough to try to pull a fast one and start moving anyway.
➛ he’ll pretend that you have absolutely no effect on him like this. like it isn’t killing him just as much to keep you from bouncing on his dick the way you know he likes. it’s all apart of the process with him though, being mean and restraining any possible movement. oh and you can bet he will 100% be poking fun at how pathetic you look.
➛ “such a predictable little slut,” he scoffs, his grip on your thighs tighter than usual. “i know it’s killing you that you can’t fuck yourself on my dick, isn’t that right?” you nodded rapidly, earning a somewhat sadistic laugh from nam-gyu. he loved having you at his mercy like this
➛ he’ll be extra mean from time to time and move just an inch, playing it off as adjusting his seating. but you know damn well that it’s his own twisted way of trying to get under your skin, and oh god did it ever work.
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➤ thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)
➛ thanos suggested it at first, he saw it as a fun new way to tease you. little did he know, the tables would be completely turned
➛ he wasn’t expecting to be the one in agony. he wasn’t anticipating that he would be the one to be begging for any semblance of friction as you sat motionless on his dick. you clenched down at his little whines and whimpers, but you remained calm— unrelenting in your stillness.
➛ “please baby, i’ll do anything… just move please, fuck.” his pleading was almost pathetic, you’d not seen him in such a position before. his cocky, obnoxious demeanour was thrown to the wind the moment control was ripped from his grasp.
➛ you don’t know what came over you, but suddenly you felt smug enough to tease him. i mean, if he could dish it out— he should certainly be able to take it. “oh? is this not going how you pictured? how sad.” you pretended the noise that was drawn from his throat didn’t damn near make you reconsider this yourself, his hands quickly finding their place on your hips. “señorita, please just fuck me.”
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➤ park min-su (player 125)
➛ you almost felt bad. almost. in all fairness how could you not? the way min-su was squirming under you, searching for some sort of satisfaction all while you held him down as still as you could. the tragic little whimpers he would make could have almost changed your mind into giving him the release he so clearly craved. he was gripping onto you, and you could feel him tremble.
➛ “it’s okay.” you assured him, brushing his bangs out of his face as he looked up at you with those trademark puppy dog eyes of his. “you’re doing so good for me.” you could feel his hands squeeze down on your thighs at the praise, a strained exhale leaving his lips. you had to admit, there wasn’t a hotter sight than this— seeing min-su melt in your hands like this.
➛ “ngh, mommy.. i c-can’t do this f’ much longer..” his speech was slurred beyond comprehension from the pleasure, you could feel his cock twitch inside you; desperate for any sort of leverage. “oh but you can,” you cupped his cheek, bringing him in for a kiss. as you leaned into it, you could tell even this slight shift in position was driving him up the wall— as if the way he was now moaning into your mouth wasn’t a telltale sign of his anguish.
➛ if you want to continue to drive him mad, whisper little praises in his ear.
“that’s right, you’re doing so well for mommy.”
“fuck, you feel so good… i could stay on you forever.”
“you’re doing such a good job for me, sweet boy.”
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oh em GEEEEEE!!! thank you all a million bajillion times over for 500 followers! i’ve been having a bit of a hard time feeling confident in my writing lately, but it’s honestly so relieving to see how many people await my works 🩵 i’m so eternally thankful for all of your support and each of your comments continue to make me smile :’) i promise i’ll keep working hard to contribute my best to this fandom, and of course THANK YOU GUYS FOR GIVING ME AN OPPORTUNITY TO SHARE MY PASSION FOR A SHOW I ADORE
as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my writing is appreciated and requested :) have a spectacular day/night lovelies 💋💋💋
tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @kouzih @agorsnotworld @kvstjwonnie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga @luvlyfandoms @gabbystinks
#squid game 2#squid game smut#squid game#fanfiction#squid game x reader#x reader smut#x reader fanfiction#player 230#imagines#thanos x reader#nam gyu x reader#player 124 x reader#player 125#min su squid game#min su x reader
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NSFW Alphabet - Mydeimos
Mydei won the poll so here is the promised alphabet. I hope I got him decently in-character. This was written prior to 3.1 so some things may not be accurate. If the upcoming story quest reveals information that goes against what I have written or gives me a different perspective on Mydei's character, I will go back and change things. I really hope I won't have to, though ;_;
Mydei x Fem!Reader
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
After the initial passion of sex passes, the blanket of lust lifts from his mind and Mydei is left with intense feelings of protectiveness and tenderness towards you. He wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around you, bury his nose in your hair or the crook of your neck and never let go. During moments like these, Mydei’s softer side comes out and you might hear him murmur praise about how well you did, how good you felt, or feel him leave a soft kiss on your lips or temple. He also enjoys draping you across his chest and idly rubbing his hand along your back as you both bask in the sweet afterglow of your lovemaking. If you melt under his touch, his chest swells with pride at seeing you so sated and relaxed because of him.
Though he tries to keep his strength in check, Mydei can sometimes get absorbed in the moment and fuck you fast and rough which is why he tries to soothe and take care of you afterwards the best he knows how. Aside from the soothing back rubs, he also gets you some pomegranate juice as refreshment and asks if you’re feeling okay. A twinge of guilt will go through him if you complain about feeling sore or being too weak to walk, and to atone for being so rough on you, Mydei will volunteer to fetch you anything you might need and carry you wherever you need to go until you’re strong enough to walk on your own. He may come off as a brute, but he does genuinely care about your wellbeing.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Mydei hates his immortal body, but he does take pride in his physique which he honed over countless years of training and fierce battles. He is unashamed about his appearance and has no qualms about walking around practically shirtless. He doesn’t do this to for some conceited desire to be admired, though he would be a liar if he said he didn’t like your appreciative stares. Mydei’s ego soars whenever he catches you checking him out, and he smirks and teases you about it with something like “Like what you see?” Or “You’ll burn holes into my body if you stare that much.”
On you, Mydei is fond of many parts of your body, but he likes your breasts, hips, lower belly, butt, and thighs in particular. Basically, the parts of you that are soft and easy to grab. The sight of your ass jiggling or breasts bouncing every time he thrusts into you greatly appeals to him, but even outside of sex, his hands often gravitate towards your thighs or stomach just because he likes how they feel. His body is all hard planes and firm muscle, but yours is soft and pliant. He enjoys that contrast.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Mydei likes seeing his cum decorate your skin, and if you let him, he’ll paint your chest, lower belly, or ass in his seed. He’s also a fan of cumming inside because the sight of his cum dripping out of your pussy sends a surge of primal satisfaction through him.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Lovemaking with Mydei can get passionate and a little rough sometimes, resulting in him sporting scratch marks along his shoulders and back courtesy of your nails. The prince is so used to tolerating pain and his injuries healing quickly, that he usually doesn’t even notice the scratches. He made the mistake of walking out in public in his usual shirtless manner with his back all scratched up, only to get a few knowing looks from his soldiers and a few concerned questions about whether he got into a scuffle with a manticore.
Mydei just brushed the questions off and let his men think whatever they liked about the origin of these marks, though internally he wanted to disappear on the spot. He would not tell the truth, because as far as Mydei was concerned, it was none of their business. His private life was not something his men needed to know about.
After this incident, Mydei made sure to wait a while for the scratches to heal before heading out to avoid encountering such awkward questions again. You didn’t get off scott-free for this, however, and Mydei got his little revenge by marking up your neck in hickeys and not acting the least bit remorseful when you scolded him for it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Mydei has had one sexual encounter with a one-night stand in the past to indulge his curiosity about sex, but he didn’t explore beyond that. Something about using each other’s bodies to get off while not really caring about one another left a sour taste in his mouth, so he preferred to wait until he got a long-term partner. Plus, his statuses as the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos and the face of the Kremnoan detachment meant he couldn’t afford having a reputation as a playboy by sleeping around. Any negative image he accrued would cascade down onto his people and potentially subject them to more harassment than they already faced in Okhema.
Mydei sees no shame in being sexually inexperienced and will outright tell you he’s not the most knowledgeable about sex. Similarly, he won’t judge you for your amount of experience, be it larger or smaller than his. It’s not a big deal to him because he knows it can be easily changed with some time and the right partner.
Despite his inexperience, Mydei approaches sex with confidence. He may not know everything, but he is willing to learn and adapt to your preferences and hopes you return the favor in kind. Tell him what you like and how you like it, and he’ll adjust his technique accordingly. If you’re also unsure about what you like, then Mydei will experiment to see what gets the best reactions out of you. Do you like a rougher or gentler touch? Do you like dirty talk? What if he teases your nipples just so? Don’t be shy to communicate what feels good to you or not, he wants to know how he can best please you. When it’s your turn to explore his body, Mydei will similarly give you feedback about what feels good to him or how you could adjust your technique to make it better. He may be taciturn, but he understands the importance of communication during such moments.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Mydei has a lot of positions he likes. One of his absolute favorites is doggystyle because it gives him a nice view of your back and a tighter squeeze around his cock. It’s not rare for Mydei to become mesmerized by the way your ass jiggles each time his hips snap to yours, and sometimes he can’t resist the urge to lightly spank your butt. Doggystyle is also nice because he can cover your body with his and mark your shoulders/neck, giving him the primal sense you’re entirely his.
He also enjoys cowgirl and reverse cowgirl. Letting you set the pace and take pleasure from his body gets Mydei going, not to mention he has a delicious view of your figure and easy access to all your curves. His hands grip your hips to help you bounce on his cock or trace the curve of your ribs to your breasts, feeling the softness of your flesh. The sight of you riding him like that can sometimes be too arousing for Mydei to handle and he struggles to hold back from thrusting upwards into you and taking over the pace. He’s a fan of reverse cowgirl for similar reasons as above, with the added bonus of watching your ass bounce on his lap. He frequently squeezes your butt when you ride him in reverse.
Additionally, Mydei enjoys sex against the wall. It can be with you facing the wall with your arms braced against it while he pounds into you from behind, or with your back against the wall and a leg hitched around his hip. He is also strong enough to support your entire weight with his arms, so there are times where fucks you while standing by holding you up by your thighs with your arms and legs wrapped around him.
If doing missionary, Mydei prefers hiking your legs up onto his shoulders or lifting your hips up for a deeper penetration and likes watching your expression melt in bliss when he hits just the right spot inside you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Mydei is a straightforward and serious person, and that aspect of him is also present in the bedroom. He approaches sex with seriousness and honesty, so he means everything he says. If he says he’ll fuck you until you’re completely spent, believe him because that’s exactly what he’ll do to you. In the same vein, Mydei will take whatever you say seriously unless it’s an obvious joke, though if you have the energy to joke around then it means he’s not fucking you good enough.
Though he’s not one to act silly, Mydei isn’t without a sense of humor. It’s not rare for him to send sarcastic jabs or teasing quips to poke fun at you in a lighthearted manner all the while smirking like a handsome bastard.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He doesn’t fuss over his pubic hair and mostly leaves it alone but does occasionally trim it if he thinks it’s grown too long. His bush has the same ombre as the hair on his head—blond at the roots and reddish at the tips. Also has a bit of a happy trail but can shave it off if you ask.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Mydei isn’t the type to shower you with sweet nothings during intercourse, but he does show his love through touch. His caresses can range from tender to passionate depending on the mood. If the mood is sweet and loving, Mydei will touch you with a rare gentleness. Things like cradling your cheek in his palm, holding you close against his body, and long kisses as well as eye contact are some of the ways he expresses his feelings for you. His eyes convey more than any words he says because there is no mistaking the love and affection in his golden depths.
If the mood is passionate and carnal, Mydei’s touches are rougher. They’re imbued with his desire to possess and protect you, as well as his lust for you. These manifest in the form of hot kisses along your neck, nibbling of his teeth against your skin, the firm grasp of hands at your hips, and the hard press of his chest against your back. Mydei also has a tendency to growl “Mine” because he wants to make you his.
The prince rarely says “I love you” even during sex, but whenever you say it to him, his heart melts. He won’t show it outright, but those words hit him deep and dredge up soft and warm feelings that make him want to embrace you and never let go. So, he settles for slowing his thrusts and holding you close while pressing his mouth to yours to keep you quiet lest your words dredge up something else within him. After the blissful high of orgasm, he nuzzles into your neck and murmurs a quiet “I love you too” back.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
As the last prince of Kremnos and leader of the detachment army, Mydei carries heavy burdens on his shoulders. While he can unwind with a friendly spar or some delicious food, sometimes sexual gratification is just what his mind needs to momentarily forget his duties.
Mydei masturbates to relax and quiet his mind, so he prefers to do it either in the bath or before bed. He only masturbates in the privacy of his bedchambers where he won’t be disturbed easily, and even then, he keeps his voice down. The most one would hear from his jack off sessions are quiet grunts and breathless pants.
He typically doesn’t think about anything specific when masturbating, but after he developed feelings for you, his thoughts would sometimes drift to you and imagine what it would feel like if it was your hand wrapped around his length instead, how your body would feel under his hands, or how you would moan and writhe under him while coupling. Thoughts of you excite him and get him off quicker than usual, but he always felt ashamed for thinking of you in such an inappropriate manner. The following day he would struggle to look you in the eye because of the guilt he felt, though once you became a couple, such feelings of guilt vanished.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Mydei leans more dominant and prefers to be in charge in the bedroom. He’s open to you taking the lead and asking him to do specific things like eating you out or letting you explore his body, but he will not give up control entirely. If you lack the assertiveness to lead properly or test his patience too much, he will take back control.
One of Mydei’s biggest kinks is marking. He loves to nip and suck at your skin to leave dark hickeys on your neck, chest, and inner thighs. When he gets particularly riled up, he also bites at your shoulder. It’s never hard enough to draw blood, but it does leave a mark in the shape of his teeth and may bruise. He admires his marks after the fact, feeling a sense of satisfaction that you have physical proof of being his, but will apologize if you scold him for it. He’ll buy you a garment that covers your neck and shoulders if it becomes a problem.
Mydei also likes it when you mark him in return. Feeling your hands and mouth on his skin claiming him as yours makes him feel desired, which is a huge turn-on. The best places to mark are his neck and back because they can get a groan of pleasure out of him when you find those sensitive spots to bite down on. Due to the fast regenerative abilities of his body, your marks don’t last long on his skin, though Mydei won’t be opposed if you want to renew them. Just be prepared for him to return the favor.
He's also into light spanking. It’s nothing hardcore like a full-on spanking session with crops and paddles but rather an occasional smack on your ass with his palm while he takes you from behind. He just enjoys seeing the way your butt jiggles and can’t resist the urge to spank it. If you’re not into it, Mydei will stop without question.
If you’re not against it, Mydei is open to trying anal sex for something novel. He will need some guidance and education on how to do it safely but he’s willing to take things slow and prep you properly to avoid injury.
The prince loves it when you wrap your arms and legs around him. Grip the backs of his thighs, lock your legs behind his back, gab his butt, or loop your arms around his neck and tug him towards you. It makes him feel like you desire him and are welcoming him into your body which he finds hot.
If you’re into it, Mydei will pin you down against the bed or wall. Things such as pinning your wrists above your head or pressing you down into the mattress with his weight are his favorite ways to immobilize you if you’ve been teasing him too much. He won’t do this if you’re uncomfortable with it, though.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
For the most part, Mydei prefers to have sex in the privacy of your home. Any room and surface is fine, though he does like the bed a little more because it makes for a comfortable place to rest and bask in the afterglow afterwards.
Though not his preferred choice, Mydei can also fuck you in more risky places. He’s brush off your advances and tell you to wait until you get home to get frisky, but his patience is not infinite. If you tease and provoke him enough, his patience will snap and he’ll drag you over to a secluded corner with a growl that if you want to be fucked so bad then fine, you’ll get what you want but you had best keep your voice down if you don’t want to be caught. If an unfortunate soul happens to see you getting steamy, the deadly glare Mydei gives them will be a silent threat for them to keep quiet and pretend they never saw anything or else.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Mydei is a simple man that prefers a straightforward approach. He’s not good at playing elaborate mind games and chasing after you in a game of cat-and-mouse as it will leave him frustrated. Just tell him you want him. Press your boobs or rub your ass against him, run your hands along his body in a suggestive manner, grinding your hips against him, whisper dirty things in his ear—whatever method you employ, just make your desire for him clear. As long as your interest is genuine and you make him feel wanted, Mydei will take the bait.
Heated make-out sessions also work to arouse him. When the kiss turns hot and heavy, it ignites his lust and makes him want to feel more of you. If you trail your lips down his throat and bite at the pulse point or lightly scratch down his back, it is game over for him. You’ll be hoisted into his arms and carried to the bed.
Other things you can try is dressing up. Wearing sexy and flattering lingerie or a cute and sexy cat outfit complete with a cat ear headband can work to turn Mydei on. Wearing just a towel or nothing at all also works.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
As mentioned previously, Mydei doesn’t like giving up complete control. He lets you experiment with kinks and take the lead if you express an interest in doing so but don’t think you can toy with him for your own amusement. The crown prince complies with your whims out of respect and a desire to indulge you but if you push his buttons too much that compliance will fly out the window.
Mydei hates being edged and teased. A little bit is fine, but he lacks the patience to put up with it for long periods of time. It quickly goes from being arousing to being annoying. He also dislikes being made to beg. Mydei is far too prideful to debase himself like that and will grow irritated if you pressure him to beg you to let him cum or anything similar. In both scenarios, he’s far more likely to break out of any restraints you have on him and turn the tables on you. You’ll be the one begging him, darling.
The crown prince is also not into roleplay. He would find it difficult to get into a role since he’s not the best actor and just finds the whole ordeal too cumbersome and cringey. He’d much rather skip the acting and get straight to the good part where he gets to have his hands on you and his face between your legs.
Additionally, Mydei won’t go out of his way to hurt you. He can wrap a hand around your throat but won’t squeeze in fear of actually choking you, neither will he harshly pull at your hair or hit you. He can manhandle you to display his strength but only if he knows you’re into it. Otherwise, he will never force you into anything against your will.
Finally, Mydei hates the idea of sharing you with someone else. Watching you touch another person so intimately and seeing you being pleasured by someone that isn’t him sparks feelings of intense jealously and resentment in him. He would see red and feel sick to his stomach, so threesomes are a huge turnoff for him.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Mydei has a slight preference for receiving but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like giving. Quite the opposite, in fact. Burying his face between your legs and watching you come undone from just his mouth? It turns him on and inflates his ego. Mydei loves watching you moan and writhe while he eats you out, and he easily holds your hips still so you can’t get away while he firmly sucks on your clit. He also feels encouraged by you tugging at his hair when something he does feels good for you.
Watching and hearing you unravel under his tongue is one of the hottest things for Mydei, and he’ll crawl up your limp and sated body with his face smeared in your slick and a feral, lustful glint in his eye because eating you out made him painfully hard.
When it comes to receiving, Mydei tries to be careful. He knows he’s big so he’s not expecting you to deepthroat him or anything (though it would drive him wild if you managed to) and does his best to hold still while you take him in your mouth. He’s more vocal when you suck him off, letting out low moans that gradually grow louder the closer you bring him to orgasm. When he gets closer to his peak, he starts to shallowly thrust into your mouth but tries to be careful to not thrust too deep and accidentally hurt you.
He tends to keep a hand on your head while you go down on him. Not pushing or pulling but just resting it there. If your hair is long enough, he’ll gather it up into a ponytail to keep it out of your face so it wouldn’t get in your way.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Mydei’s pace can vary from fast to slow depending on what you’re both in the mood for, but he consistently goes deep. If you’re in the mood for something passionate and carnal, Mydei’s happy to let loose and take you fast and rough until you’re crying out in pleasure and your eyes are rolling back while raking your nails down his shoulders. If you want something less rough but still passionate, he can go slow and deep and gradually build up to a more moderate pace. The latter is usually his go-to pace though he tends to quicken his thrusts when he’s near orgasm.
Though slow and sensual is not his typical style, when you evoke soft and warm feelings in Mydei’s chest (usually by saying you love him or being the one to make love to him) he gentles his approach. It’s not quite sensual, but it is loving coming from him. His sharp thrusts slow down to languid roll of his hips and he gives you more kisses and gentler nips.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He doesn’t mind quickies and sometimes resorts to them when you’re both pent up and need to destress but don’t have the time to take things slow. During quickies, Mydei’s pace is fast but not rough since the aim is to get both of you to climax quickly and then go about your day. They’re regular but not frequent, probably once a week or so.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
It will take some coaxing on your part, but Mydei can be convinced to experiment with new things if the idea intrigues him or it makes you happy. However, if it’s anything from the No section then he will stubbornly shut down the suggestion. You also can’t suddenly spring something hardcore on him like BDSM. Mydei needs to be eased into new things. You can start out with something like a session experimenting with restraints, and another time playing around with blindfolds or toys, etc… Otherwise, he may experiment with a few things himself like sex positions and restraining you with his hands.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
This man has stamina for days. He’ll outlast you any day of the week, it’s not even a competition. Mydei’s endurance comes not only from his physical fitness, but also from how used to pain and suffering he is. His immortal body allows him to easily ignore signs of fatigue or discomfort and push him past his limits. That said, his body does have a limit to how many times he can cum, so he can last up until he shoots blanks. It’s unlikely you will ever get to that point with him, though.
In general, Mydei prefers going for 2-3 rounds so you’re both left thoroughly satisfied, but if you ever want to go for more then he’ll indulge you.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
While Mydei isn’t against sex toys, he’s not eager to use them. He strongly believes that direct physical touch feels better than some cold plastic or silicone toy. He’d much rather please you directly with his body, be it his hands, mouth, or penis because it’s more gratifying to watch you react to his touch than to some tool. Mydei prefers you to please him using your hands or mouth, as well. You could try the sex toys on him, but he will quickly lose interest and toss them away in favor of feeling your skin against his.
Mydei is okay with you using toys on yourself when he’s not available to satisfy your needs, but if he is, he will be hurt if you don’t come to him and satisfy yourself with a toy instead. It will make him think you don’t find him satisfactory in bed.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Mydei is a straightforward person, so playing unfair is not his style. At most he can let fly a teasing comment about how badly you want him but otherwise he doesn’t tease or edge you. He doesn’t have the patience for it because seeing you get worked up riles him up too and makes him want nothing else except to sink into your cunt.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
The prince is good at keeping his voice down. He usually lets out grunts and groans while making love to you, and an occasional low moan if you do something that makes him feel good. Mydei would much rather hear your moans over his own because they let him know he’s making you feel good which is an ego boost for him. If you try to stifle your sounds, Mydei tells you to let your voice out so he can hear how good he’s making you feel and does his best to get you to moan louder, provided you’re somewhere private.
He's also a huge sucker for hearing you moan his name or begging him. It drives him wild and makes him want to give you even more pleasure.
Mydei indulges in a bit of dirty talk. It’s not derogatory but rather praising, saying things like “Look at how soaked your panties are. You must be so desperate to feel my dick inside you.” or “You’re so wet and tight, your pussy feels so good around me.”
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Mydei can get competitive in the bedroom. Once he grows familiar with sex and what you like, he challenges himself to get you to climax more times compared to previous sessions. If you came twice last time, he’ll set a goal to make you orgasm three or more times the next session.
If you’re the type to challenge him in the bedroom, Mydei will play along. You want to bet you’ll make him cum first? Sure, why not test it out in the 69 position so he can eat you out while you suck him off and see who will make the other finish first?
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
(A reminder than girth is circumference and not diameter)
Length is 15 cm (5.9 inches) and girth is 11 cm (4.3 inches). Has a few veins on the underside and a dark red tip.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Mydei has a healthy sexual appetite and craves sex about 3-5 times a week. If you sex drive is higher than his then he could go more often.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Mydeimos doesn’t fall asleep quickly afterwards unless he’s pushed himself past his limit (but that’s extremely rare). You’re usually the one to fall asleep first since intercourse with him leaves you weak and tired, so Mydei spends that free time making sure you’re properly tucked in and comfortable. He scoops your limp form into his arms in a protective embrace and tucks your head under his chin, holding you close while you succumb to sleep.
During nighttime, Mydei’s thoughts are usually occupied by his duties or his past, but the relaxation that comes after sex helps to push those troublesome thoughts aside and allows him fall asleep easier than usual. It also takes him a bit of time to get used to sleeping beside you, but he finds it nice to share a bed with someone he loves and hold them in his arms. He likes mornings in which he wakes up to see your naked sleeping figure beside him. Your hair is mussed and there are marks from his teeth on your skin, but god does the sight of you under the soft rays of Okhema’s sun warm his scarred heart.
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#star rail x reader#mydei x reader#mydeimos x reader#mydei x fem!reader#mydei x reader smut
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pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader
summary: after your scheduled coffee date with bradley, your friendship progresses into something more over time. (7k)
part 2 to return to sender
warnings: swearing, some use of Y/N
a/n: hello again my tgm family!! went a little overboard with this, but thank you to my sweet @familyvideostevie, who came up with this beautiful friends to lovers plotline for a part 2 literal ages ago, and the lovely @starryeyedstories for putting me in my rooster feels again <3
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4d3363ea0b92653a3de3d2d48a9c125f/89a9e87e18498fc9-c6/s540x810/703dabfc9a895772a57e91cb5aefc9bfed4f0d94.jpg)
You shouldn’t be so nervous for coffee with Bradley as you are right now. You’ve already changed your outfit at least twice, sifted through your pantry for a suitable accompaniment to coffee so many times you’ve lost count, and as the clock ticks its way to noon, genuinely debated on making an excuse to bail.
A few careful deep breaths clears your mind a little, reminds you that no, you aren’t going to bail on Bradley. You’re going to see this thing through if it’s the last thing you ever do, fight or flight response be damned.
You’re a jumble of nerves as you finally make your way over to his apartment, just like the first time you met him.
Only this time it isn’t because you were afraid he was an asshole (you know now that he was the in fact opposite), but because your crush on him has grown tenfold just overnight.
See, you’d spent a good chunk of the time you were meant to be asleep last night on the phone chatting with him about anything and everything, never a lull in the conversation until the sun started to peek through the curtains and the birds began their daily morning song.
He’d sounded sad when you announced you had to grab a few hours of shut eye, but murmured a soft see you later that had your heart thudding a little faster in your chest.
Maybe you even buried your face in a pillow and squealed a little the moment you hung up, but he doesn’t need to know that.
You knock on his door firmly, shifting the package of Oreos from hand to hand nervously as you wait.
The door swings open to reveal a smiling Bradley, and suddenly all your worries seem to fade away.
He’s wearing jeans and a well-fitting Hawaiian shirt this time, which would’ve looked tacky as hell on anyone else, but Bradley found a way to pull it off. He still looks way too damn good for someone who’d been up the whole night.
“Hey!” He exclaims, beckoning you inside with a smile. You mirror his smile, but before you can return his greeting, he brings you into a hug. He smells of fresh laundry and sea breeze and something heady that you can’t quite put your finger on but like nonetheless. “Long time no talk.”
You let out a huff of amusement. “Right, because seven hours is just such a long time.”
“Sure felt like forever,” He replies, reaching around you to shut the door. His arm grazes against the small of your back as he does, a fleeting touch that still manages to make you shiver. Maybe Bradley notices, because he lets his hand linger for another second, expression shifting into something softer as he eases the cookies out of your hands. “This for me?”
��Uh, yeah! I hope you like Oreos, ‘cause it’s really all I had,” You say sheepishly, folding your arms around yourself in an awkward attempt to seem normal.
“I love Oreos. Thank you.” He bobs his head quickly. “Anyways, welcome, come on in, make yourself at home.”
Bradley’s apartment has the same layout as yours, but other than that it looks like a completely different place.
While you’d decorated your space with all sorts of odds and ends, posters and paintings and a plethora of knick knacks adorning your shelves, Bradley’s is…kind of empty, save for a few sports posters and some workout gear scattered in the hallway leading to the bedroom. A piano sits over by the window that gives the place some character, but other than that it doesn’t really look like this is anyone’s home.
It’s as if he feels you taking in your surroundings, because he chuckles awkwardly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “It’s plain, I know. Definitely won’t be winning any awards for interior design.”
“Oh, I dunno, the minimalistic look is really in these days,” You hum, shrugging nonchalantly.
“You’re too nice to me. I’m not here a lot of the time, so I haven’t really done the whole ‘making it feel like home’ thing yet. I’ll get to it though.” He admits, kicking aside a lone pair of shorts. “Anyways, uh—forget this, why don’t we keep moving on into the kitchen?”
The kitchen is much more interesting than the rest of the apartment, mainly the wall of postcards and photos next to the fridge that catch your eye immediately.
“Now, this is more like it!” You gasp, beelining for the wall to look at them. Postcards of sandy beaches, snowy mountains, and everything in between. Pictures of a younger and current Bradley with whom you assumed were his fellow Navy buddies, smiling wide for the camera like he’s having the time of his life. A few more older photos of a woman and a man who looks just like Bradley with a kid who you assumed was Bradley.
You feel Bradley’s presence come up behind you, hear him inhale a sharp breath. “Those are my parents.”
“You look just like your dad.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone says.”
“And your mom is beautiful.”
“She was.” You know better than to pry any further than that. One day, maybe, but not any time soon. He sniffs once, then clears his throat. “You, um, you want some coffee?”
You leave the wall to come settle on one of the barstools across the counter from him, propping your chin up in your hand as he pulls open a cabinet. “Ah, the infamous coffee maker! Damn that thing is huge.”
“Don’t come for me, but I’ve still only figured out how to make one thing,” He warns, pointing at you with a mug. “Hope you like black coffee, ‘cuz that’s all you’re getting.”
“Black coffee is perfect.”
“I have milk if you take yours with some. Only almond milk though. Supposed to be better for the bones, according to Hangman.” Bradley nods his head towards the fridge. “S’in there if you need it, help yourself.”
“First the machine, now the milk—this Hangman must be a trustworthy guy if you take all your coffee tips from him.”
Bradley laughs, a loud belly laugh that sends a tumbling feeling through your chest. “Dude’s a total knucklehead, but he means well. I think you’d like him.”
“What’s that thing they say about a person’s friends being a reflection of themselves?” You muse teasingly, tilting your head.
“I know you didn’t just call me a knucklehead!”
“Your words, not mine.” You lift one shoulder, letting it drop with a look of feigned innocence.
“Funny.”
As always, conversation with Bradley is never dull. Even though you’d talked for hours on end the night before, there is no shortage of stories to be told, life stories shared over coffee and Oreos like you’ve known each other forever.
Somehow you wind up here, talking about how you both ended up in the same apartment complex. You’d found this place on your own and were immediately sold on it. It was affordable, not too small but not too big, and quiet enough for you. Seemed like a perfect deal had fallen right into your lap.
Bradley, on the other hand, had found it a completely different way. His friend Nat had been going out with a total douchebag of a guy who just so happened to be looking for a place at the same time Bradley had been, sharing his apartment hunt findings with her.
She found out he’d been seeing another girl behind her back the whole time, kicked his ass to the curb, tipped Bradley off on the open spot in the complex, and Bradley swooped in to nab the place before the cheating son of a bitch could even blink.
“You did not!” You gasp, covering your mouth with your palm in shock.
“I did!” Bradley laughs, nodding enthusiastically. “Never liked the guy anyways. And what was he gonna do, confront me about it? Dude was a total coward, he wasn’t gonna come accuse me of jack shit!”
“You’re smart, Bradshaw, I’ll give you that.”
“Apparently not smart enough to know that my mail was being sent to the wrong apartment for months. Again, I’m really sorry about that.”
“It wasn’t a big deal, I keep telling you that,” You insist, shaking your head. “I didn’t mind, really.”
“How come you didn’t tell me earlier?”
“Honestly? I thought you were kinda scary,” You admit sheepishly, ducking your head in embarrassment.
It feels silly even admitting it, knowing now who Bradley actually is doesn’t fit your perception of him by a long shot. But at the same time, admitting it feels somewhat freeing, like you’re letting go of someone you never knew to make way for someone you’d really love to get to know more.
Bradley’s eyes widens, mouth falling open just the slightest bit in shock. “Scary? Me?”
“Yes, you! I dunno if you’ve seen yourself from another person’s eyes, but you look intimidating! You’ve got that whole big tough guy look going on, and I’m not great with confrontation.”
“And what do you think of me now?” He asks softly, settling his chin in the palm of his hand as he meets your gaze intently. There go your nerves again, swirling in the pit of your stomach like a whirlpool threatening to suck you in.
You inhale a deep breath, letting it come back out as a sort of breathy chuckle. “I think you’re not at all what I thought you’d be.”
“In a good way or a bad way?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Anything I could do to sway the odds in my favor?”
Your mouth is suddenly drier than a desert despite all the liquid you’ve been downing, palms clammy against the ceramic of the mug clutched in your grasp.
You aren’t ready to answer that question, even though you already have an inkling of the things he could do. So you do the only thing you could think of to get yourself out of this situation. You change the subject.
“I…um—I really loved the chandelier when I took a walk through of the place,” You blurt, jerking your chin over at the sleek fixture above the dining area to draw Bradley’s attention to it. “Really brings the whole place together. Or, it would if mine would stop flickering all the damn time.”
His face falls just the tiniest bit at the sudden change of subject, but his features twist in curiosity within a split second. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah, yours doesn’t?”
“No, mine’s been fine since I moved in. Have you tried taking a look at it, see what’s wrong?”
You offer him a sheepish smile, bashful now. “This is really embarrassing, but I’m—I’m kind of scared that it’s gonna fall on me if I mess with it. Y’know, revenge of the light fixtures and all that?” Bradley’s mouth lifts at the edges, and you could tell he’s fighting another smile. “Don’t laugh at me! It’s a legitimate concern!”
“Not laughing!” He clears his throat, giving his head a little shake to keep his composure. But even then, there’s no mistaking the amusement in his eyes. “Chandeliers are very scary.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” You groan, hanging your head. Bradley’s soft chuckle brings a flaming warmth to your cheeks.
“I could…take a look at it, if you want?”
Your head whips up to stare at him. “Right now?”
“Today, yeah. If you’re free after this, I mean.” He shrugs, giving the spoon in his cup a few stirs.
“For real?”
“I have tools. I’ll take a look, see if it’s an easy fix and if not, we can call maintenance.”
“You’re walking a slippery slope, Bradley Bradshaw. If you can get the chandelier working again there’s no guarantee I won’t be calling you for every other household problem in the future.”
“No complaints here.”
After you’ve both finished your coffee, Bradley grabs his toolbox from under the stairs, and now you’re both standing in the entryway of your own apartment. You feel him taking in your space the same way you did his, your cheeks flaming hot at the clutter of things all around.
“It’s usually a lot tidier than this, I swear. I’ve just had a lot of deadlines at work and I haven’t gotten the chance to put everything back in its place.”
Bradley just smiles, giving a noncommittal shrug. “S’no big deal. I like it.” Everything he got from spending more time with you, he could see it reflected in your space. And as cliche as it sounded, he felt more at home here than he did in his own apartment.
He sets his toolbox down, grabbing a set of pliers and hopping up on the table with ease to poke around the chandelier for a while before fiddling with something.
He climbs back down, wiping his hands on the front of his jeans and tossing the tool back into the box, planting his hands on his hips. “Looks like one of the wires was just a little loose. The bad connection caused it to flicker, but I tightened it a bit so it should be fine now. Maybe try it and see?”
You hurry over to the light switch, flicking it on hopefully. Normally it would start to flicker immediately, but when ten seconds go by and the light shines bright, you beam. “So you’re an electrician too, huh?”
“Hardly. One of my buddies is though. Sometimes he needs an extra set of hands so I tag along with him, see what I can learn.”
“Well either way, you’re a godsend!”
“Just glad I could help.”
“Let me cook you dinner! I have—” You exclaim, shuffling over to the fridge and pulling it open only to be met with nearly bare shelves, save for a few containers of old fruit and condiments. “—nothing. I have nothing, because I was supposed to go to the store yesterday. Well, this is embarrassing!”
Bradley had followed you to the kitchen, sliding onto one of the barstools coolly. “No, this is all very reassuring, ‘cause I’ve been meaning to go shopping too but I keep putting it off. Glad to see I’m not the only one with poor weekly grocery trip skills.”
“I’m sure that was meant to be reassuring, but it really just makes us both sound sad,” You groan, slumping over onto your own stool.
“Your words, not mine,” Bradley chuckles, echoing your earlier words with a cheery smile.
You roll your eyes playfully. “Okay, I can fix this!” You exclaim, holding up a finger as you open UberEats on your phone. “We could do Thai, burgers, pizza—”
“You don’t have to buy me dinner, really, I’m just happy I could help.”
“You can say no all you want, Bradley, it doesn’t really matter to me. You’re staying for dinner, and we can either compromise and get something we both want, or I’ll order something you hate,” You insist, trying to sound as firm as you could.
“You don’t give up easily, do you?”
You grin at him, eyes alight with mischief. “No, I don’t.”
“I like that.” I like you, he wants to say. He doesn’t.
“What’ll it be then?”
“I wouldn’t say no to some pizza. Got a six pack back in my fridge I could bring over too, if you want.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Of beer, that is,” He adds. “No relation to my giant package.”
“Oh, you asshole! You swore you’d never bring that up again!” You huff, leaning over to swat at him. Bradley dodges you easily, an easy smile playing at his lips.
“Okay, okay! I won’t say anything else about it, I promise.”
“You’re lying.”
“Yeah I’m totally lying.”
-------
And so it began, a saga of texting Bradley to see if the things in his apartment were as defective as yours, him coming over to help fix various things, and you scrambling to show your utmost appreciation for his help.
A broken thermostat meant going downtown for dinner and drinks at some new restaurant “just to try it out”, a leaky sink resulted in him guilting you into a Mission: Impossible marathon (and a whole lot of insisting the main character looked exactly like one of his Navy higher ups).
That soon turned into you and Bradley spending more and more time at each other’s places, doing fuck all but enjoying each other’s friendship. And over time, that friendship grew a bit more-than-friends-like—he’d always flirt with you, you’d flirt right back—but neither of you had the guts to do anything about it.
Lingering glances, brushing hands that lasted a little too long to be innocent, inside jokes only the two of you were privy to. You’re almost positive he feels the same way about you as you do him, but every time you want to act on it, you chicken out. You've never been one for putting yourself out there, and that hasn’t changed.
You’re about to turn in for the night today, going to close the window in your bedroom only to realize that the lock on the frame isn’t sliding into place the way it usually did.
After jiggling it a few times to see if it would prove a quick fix and finding that it most certainly doesn’t fix a thing, you reach for your phone, instinctively sending off a quick message to Bradley without even really having to think about it.
y/n: quick question! what should i do if my window won’t lock?
Not five minutes after you hit send, your phone buzzes, Bradley’s name flashing across the screen for a video call.
It’s odd, because usually when you text about something in your apartment not working the way it's supposed to, he just shoots back a message saying he’ll be right over. It’s nighttime, so you were honestly kind of looking forward to seeing him in his grey sweats and bicep hugging black tee combo.
You give yourself a quick once over in your phone camera, smoothing down any flyaway hairs before hitting the answer call button. There’s a few beats of nothing as the call connects, but he’s on your screen soon enough, somewhere you don’t recognize and half-shrouded in the dark like he’s under something.
“Something’s wrong with your window?” He asks, brow creased in concern.
“Hi to you too, Bradley.”
“Sorry, hi. But your window, is the lock broken?”
“I think so? Usually when I go to turn the plastic lock thingy it clicks into place, but I tried it like four times and it’s not clicking, so…” You trail off, pouting. “D’you—I mean, are you busy right now? Would you mind popping over to take a look?”
“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m actually not home right now. Won’t be for another few weeks.” Bradley frowns, scratching at his cheek. “I’m overseas.”
“Oh my god, Bradley! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know!”
“No, you’re good! If I was home, I’d be over in a heartbeat, but uh, unfortunately,” He sighs, gesturing vaguely at his surroundings. “Here, flip the camera. Lemme see if I can see what’s wrong from here.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, gnawing on your lip. It seems wrong, still having Bradley be your on-call maintenance guy even when he’s somewhere probably a thousand miles away. But he nods enthusiastically so you oblige, flipping the camera so it’s facing the seemingly broken lock.
You watch him blink a few times and squint at the fuzzy video screen for a little bit before sighing again.
“Sorry, Y/N. I can’t see shit from here.”
“Yeah no, it’s fine.” You shrug, flipping the camera back to face you. You prop your phone up on your windowsill, settling into a more comfortable position to chat with him. “Where overseas are you?”
“Afraid that’s classified, ma’am.” He bows his head in apology, but there was a teasing smile on his face. “See, I could tell you. But then I’d have to kill you.”
You let out an amused chuckle. “Oh, really?”
“Unfortunately. And you’re too pretty to meet that end, so I’m gonna have to keep my whereabouts a secret to save us both the hassle.”
Pretty. Bradley thinks you’re pretty.
You have to fight the smile threatening to break your composure. “How gracious of you.”
“Isn’t it? I surprise myself sometimes,” He sighs good-naturedly, looking all too pleased with himself. “But seriously, talk to the super about your window, have them get the maintenance guy to take a look. Don’t think I’ll be able to sleep til it gets fixed.”
“Aw, you worried about me, Bradley?” You tease, pouting playfully at him.
He rolls his eyes. “You know I am.”
“I’ll call the super tomorrow.”
“Not today?”
“I’ll let you know if someone breaks in through my third floor window.”
“Hey, you never know! People are stealthy,” Bradley protests, shifting to a sitting position and subsequently hitting his head on the bunk above him. He lets out a hiss of pain, rubbing the top of his head with a grimace.
“Some people are, but you’re definitely not,” You snicker, to which Bradley gives you another eye roll. “Are you about to go to bed?”
“I was gonna, but I’d much rather talk to you.”
That nearly makes you swoon. God, Bradley is good with his words. Damn him.
“Go to sleep, I’ll let you know when it’s fixed. Wouldn’t want you worrying your pretty little head about me all night.”
“Pretty little head,” He echos, tilting said pretty little head to the side.
“It’s, uh, it’s just a figure of speech,” You insist, feeling your cheeks grow embarrassingly warm. Funny how they always do that whenever you’re talking to him. Or thinking about him. Or thinking about talking to him.
Bradley just smiles again. “Sure is.”
“Goodnight, Bradley.”
“Night, sweetheart. I’m expecting that text to be there when I wake up.” He hangs up before you can register the nickname, but you can’t stop the giddy grin breaking across your face when you do.
First he calls you pretty, now he’s calling you sweetheart. He’s getting bolder. You aren’t sure if that means he feels the same way about you, or if it’s just his personality. Even after you’d known him for almost six months, you still can’t tell.
-------
Bradley rouses from his sleep at five on the dot, throwing himself into his Navy enforced routine until lunchtime, when he could finally sit down and check his phone. Upon powering it back on and glancing at the homescreen, he sees that he has two notifications from you. One of them is a selfie of you beaming next to your newly fixed latched window, sending him a thumbs up.
Shit, you’re so pretty. It makes his heart ache to be away from home this time, not able to help you when you need it.
The other is a text to accompany the photo.
y/n: window is fixed. hope you sleep well tonight knowing no stealthy people are gonna break in :)
He snorts softly, a smile overtaking his face as he taps out a reply.
bradley: i won’t worry my pretty little head about it anymore.
y/n: you better not be texting me from the jet!!
bradley: and so what if i was? i’d call it multitasking.
y/n: i’d call it damn stupid, lieutenant. can’t have my handyman ditching me, so come home in one piece, k?
“Now who in the world could you be texting that’s got you cheesin’ like a big ol’ idiot right now?” Hangman’s voice drawls from across the table, drawing Bradley’s attention away from his phone and to the rest of the squad, who all look at him with the same expectant expressions.
“Five bucks it’s his girl from back home,” Payback chimes in, smirking knowingly.
“I’ll take that action, please and thank you,” Fanboy replies, smacking his hand into Payback’s for a shake to seal the deal.
“She’s not my—have you guys been creeping on my texts?”
“Well, not creeping per se,” Phoenix reasons, holding her hands up in defense. “I was only trying to send myself that picture of Bob sleeping with that marker mustache when she texted.”
Bob makes an incredulous noise, head whipping towards his front seater. “You guys said there were no pictures!”
“Nothing, nevermind,” She hums, waving him off. “Back to the subject at hand. Y/N. Rooster’s girl.”
“How d’you know her—hold on, how the fuck did you get into my phone?”
“Your password is your birthday, dumbass. You should really change it, by the way. Cybersecurity is no joke.”
“Whatever. She’s not my girl, by the way. If any of you cared to know. We’re just…friends.”
“See that hesitation between just and friends? Bradshaw’s a liar!” Hangman whoops, drumming his fingers on the table. “He wants to be her boyfriend!” That last word comes out a teasing singsong, making Bradley roll his eyes. He’s right, of course, but he doesn’t need everyone knowing that.
“Real mature, Hangman. Real mature.”
“Can’t argue with the truth, Rooster.”
-------
You soon discover that life is pretty boring without Bradley around. There’s nobody to bother when you get bored, nobody to make dumb jokes while you watch a movie, nobody to force you to go out even though you don’t want to. Bradley was always the one to do all those things with you, and he isn’t here. Sure, you’re still able to text and talk, but it isn’t the same. You miss him.
So when your doorbell rings and you aren’t expecting anyone, your mind immediately goes to Bradley. You quickly give yourself a once over in the mirror in the foyer, making sure you look at least halfway presentable before pulling open the door excitedly.
Bradley’s already beaming when your eyes land on him, but his smile gets even wider as he takes you in. He looks the same as the last time you saw him, although definitely better than he did on a grainy video screen. He’s a little tanner than you remember, shoulders a smidge broader, but still the same Bradley you’d grown some big feelings for.
“Remember me?” He jokes, shoving his hands into his pockets.
You give him a once over with a tilted head, frowning. “Sorry, no. I think you might have the wrong apartment.”
“Oh, she’s funny now!”
“Okay, ouch. I’ve always been funny, Bradshaw,” You huff, but the smile stretching your lips tells him you’re anything but annoyed. “Welcome home.”
You aren’t sure if you should hug him but you do anyway, wrapping your arms around his neck, breathing in his achingly familiar cologne. Bradley settles into your embrace almost like he’s melting, letting his nose drop into the dip of your neck as he hugs you back a little too tightly. Not that you’re complaining about it.
“Glad to be back. Missed you.” He straightens up as soon as those last two words leave his mouth, backing away almost jerkily with a hand flying to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“I missed you too, Bradley.”
The edges of his mouth quirk up into the beginnings of a smile. “So me and my buddies were gonna head to our usual spot for drinks tonight, kinda like a being back stateside, welcome home type thing. I’d really like it if you came with me.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” You shake your head profusely, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. Bradley’s head cocks in confusion. “It’s your time with your friends, I don’t want to impose.”
“You won’t be. I want you there, I want you to meet them all,” He insists, looking entirely sincere.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Come with me, please.”
You gnaw a little on your lip in contemplation, only managing to hold out a few seconds under his intense gaze before giving a small defeated sigh. “Okay. I’ll join you.”
“Great!” He beams, looking rather pleased. “Now tell me everything that happened while I was gone. And spare no detail either, I need to catch up on the complex gossip. Did that kid Andrew ever stop banging on his drums until three in the morning? Does that family across the parking lot still go on walks with their wailing baby or has that sucker settled down yet? I need to know.”
After bringing Bradley up to speed on everything, it’s time to meet his friends.
Rowdy isn’t sufficient enough to describe the Hard Deck. A Navy joint through and through, the whole place is decked out floor to ceiling with model jets and patches and other various related memorabilia.
The group Bradley leads you towards seems to be the loudest of them all, scattered out around a pool table in the back corner chatting amongst each other and looking happy to be home.
The first person to notice Bradley’s arrival is a dark haired woman with a pool cue in her hand, which she swings his way upon sight of him coming up next to her, nearly taking off his head had he not stepped back a little. “Bradshaw! Tell Bagman he’s insane if he thinks he can chug a beer in under five seconds, tell him that!”
“No, you tell Phoenix that I can do whatever I—well, hello there,” The blond man—Bagman, you assume—stops mid sentence when he lays eyes on you, dropping the offended look and aiming a pearly white smile your way. “And who might you be?”
“Not gonna happen, Hangman,” Bradley warns. He looks entirely serious about it too.
“Oh, so you’re the Hangman this guy always talks about,” You lilt, ignoring the gentle shove Bradley gives you in return.
“Aw, Roo, you talk about me?” Hangman drawls, grinning wildly. “Way to make a man blush!”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t flatter yourself.” Bradley rolls his eyes playfully, giving his head a shake before introducing you to his friends. Each of them has a unique callsign that seems to fit them perfectly. Your favorite name is Coyote because of how cool it is, but you’d never let Bradley know that.
The woman Hangman had been bickering with, Phoenix, inhales a sharp breath, her eyes bouncing between you and Bradley with barely contained glee. “Oh my god, you’re Rooster’s girl! He’s been—”
Bradley clamps a hand on Phoenix’s shoulder before she can continue, cutting her short. “Alright!” He blurts, giving her a quick few pats. He angles his head towards you, offering a guilty smile. “Sorry about her, she’s drunk. Doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Move the hand or you’ll lose it, Bradshaw,” She says slowly, pinning him to the spot with a death stare. Bradley retracts his hand instantly, looking intimidated as he does so and Phoenix aims a grin your way. “He’s well trained, I promise. I think maybe you’ve had something to do with that?”
“I dunno about training, but I’ve taught him a few tricks.”
“What am I, a dog?” Bradley splutters, looking from your grin to Phoenix’s and huffing out a sigh when you both nod. “I feel attacked! This is so unfair.”
“I like you. We need to get you a drink,” Phoenix says very as-a-matter-of-factly, holding up her empty glass towards you as proof. “Any preference?”
“Surprise me?”
“Copy that.”
You watch her retreat over to the bar, casting a quick glance at your surroundings to make sure nobody is paying attention before leaning in towards Bradley, who mirrors your actions almost instantaneously.
“Rooster’s girl?” You chuckle, raising an amused brow. You’d never admit it out loud, but you like the nickname. It meant that he told his friends about you. Maybe not in the way you’d wanted them to learn about your existence, because he’d probably told them you’re just friends, but nice nonetheless.
Bradley goes positively pink in the face. “It’s, uh—s’nothing, my friends just like to mess around.”
“Okay.” You shrug trying to play it cool while simultaneously fighting the urge to squeal like a damn schoolgirl on the inside. You ought to earn some sort of medal for your performance.
You soon fall into easy conversation with Phoenix and her backseater Bob when she returns with drinks. It isn’t until Bradley finally leaves your side to go play a round of pool with some of the other guys that she props her chin up in her hand, smiling knowingly at you.
“So…you and Rooster?”
“What about us?”
“Are you guys…y’know,” She gestures vaguely in the air, tilting her head over at Bradley. “A thing?”
“Oh my god,” Bob mutters, so soft you barely even hear it. He looks mortified at his partner’s very not subtle insinuation. “Nat, you can’t just ask her that.”
“Oh no, it’s okay! We, uh—Bradley and I are just friends.”
Phoenix doesn’t look like she believes you one bit, but she just nods reassuringly. “Well, just friends or not, you’re good for him.” Then she moves onto a new topic like it’s nothing, but her words echoed in your mind.
You cast a glance over at Bradley a little ways away, where he’s chatting idly with another one of his buddies.
You’re good for him.
If anything, Bradley is good for you. He pushes you out of your comfort zone, he helps you come out of your shell. He’s the reason you’ve grown into a new person, one that the old you would never have even dreamed of becoming.
Maybe your attention lingers a little too long, because he tears his eyes away from his conversation partner to meet your gaze, lips curling up into a grin as he nods at you in acknowledgement. Even from across the bar, you can see the soft twinkle in his eyes, the fondness and warmth in his smile causing your heart to swell in your chest.
By the time you and Bradley decide to call it a night and head home, you already have an indefinite invitation to any and every squad function in the future (whether or not Bradley was present, Phoenix had added with a wink).
“So…what did you think of ‘em?”
“I like your friends. They’re nice,” You say earnestly. You mean it.
“Good. I’m glad. They really like you too, Phoenix and Bob especially,” He says casually, flicking on his blinker to turn left. You let out a pleased chuckle at that.
The two of you chat like normal the rest of the way home once you both settle back into your usual back and forth, exchanging more stories from your respective lives until Bradley pulls into his assigned parking space.
“Before I forget, I brought you back something.”
“Oh?” You raise a curious eyebrow.
He reaches over to your side of the car, fumbling around in the glove compartment for a few seconds until he procures what he’s searching for—a small postcard with a photo of a very picturesque beach. The corners are a bit bent from being shoved in there, but Bradley straightens them out as best he can before holding it out to you.
Turning it around in your hands, you spot a note in his familiar chicken scratch on the other side, much tinier than you remember but only because it details how much he hated sharing a tiny bunk with Hangman, who was an avid sleep talker when he wasn’t snoring as loud as humanly possible throughout the entire night.
One thing stands out to you though, the last sentence before he’d signed his name with a rather crooked looking smiley face—I miss you.
“This town was near where we were stationed. I was gonna mail the card, but I wanted this first one to be special.”
“Special?” You echo, tilting your head.
“Yeah. Thought maybe it’d be fun if I send you one of these every time I’m deployed and you could start your own wall. That way whenever I’m gone and you miss me, it’ll—I dunno…remind you I’m coming home?” He finishes awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
You try your hardest to fight the smile threatening to overtake your face as you study the card intently. It’s very sweet of him, you think, that he wants to share this tradition of his with you.
“Thank you, Bradley,” You say softly. “I love it.”
"I was hoping you would. I'm glad you do."
When he walks you right up to your door, he looks nervous, which isn't like him. You're about to ask him if he's feeling okay, but then he speaks.
“Hey, look, I—um, I’ve had a really good time these past few months, being your friend."
You frown a little. “Uh oh. Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?”
“No! I mean, yes, but also—shit, okay, lemme start over.” Bradley shakes his head as if to clear his mind, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve really enjoyed being your friend, but I don’t wanna be friends anymore.”
Oh.
Your heart may as well have fallen out of your ass at his words. Bradley didn’t want to be friends with you anymore?
You must not have as good of a poker face as you mean to, because he quickly backtracks, eyes wide.
“Fuck, no that’s not what I meant, I—jesus, I meant to say that I don’t want to be just friends anymore,” He blurts, letting his hands drop to his sides. “I really missed you while I was gone. More than I should’ve. And at first I just thought it was because we’re such good friends and because of how much time we’ve spent together lately and that’s why I felt like there was this chunk of me that was missing, but I realized it was more than that. I like you. A lot. So I don’t just want to be your friend anymore, I want to be…more.”
Oh.
Bradley likes you. And you like him right back.
So, you do the only thing you can think of that will show him your feelings towards him.
You lean forward, closing the gap between the two of you and kissing him right here and now.
His palms smooth themselves down your back, fingers splayed across the expanse of it as he kisses you like his life depends on it. His mustache is scratchy, but you don’t mind one bit, not with the way he’s holding you against him, like you’re puzzle pieces slotting perfectly together at last.
You pull away first with a hand against his chest, only slightly, just enough to look him in the eye when you tell him, “I like you a lot too, Bradley.”
“Best news I’ve heard in a while,” Bradley sighs, tipping his head back with a sigh of relief. Then his brows furrow, eyes focusing above your heads. “Your light is out,” He says bluntly, squinting at the darkened bulb. “Did you know that?”
“Yeah, I know,” You chuckle. “I would’ve changed it, but the damn thing is rusted over, and my handyman has been out of town for a bit.”
Bradley snorts, rolling his eyes playfully. “Hilarious. You got a spare lightbulb? I could change it right now.”
“You could.” Now you’re feeling bold and you run with it, walking your fingers up his chest until they link around the back of his neck. “Or…you could change it tomorrow, after breakfast?”
His brows fly high at that, tongue darting out to wet his lips nervously. “Tomorrow. Like, as in, you want me to stay the night here, and stay for breakfast in the morning?”
“Well, yes. We’ve got some more catching up to do, don’t you think?” You ask innocently, though your insinuation isn’t quite so. Bradley’s inhale hitches in his chest at the silent message and he nods quickly, antsy now as you go to unlock the door.
He’s on you the moment you get the door open, lips glued to yours even as you stumble across the threshold and into the foyer.
“Wait, wait—” Bradley pants, pulling away only slightly. He’s got a hand skimming over bare skin under the hem of your top, mouth shiny with your lipgloss, and he’s telling you to wait. You raise an impatient brow. “As much as I want to—y’know, and I do, can we just…have a quiet night? I wanna take things slow, make sure everything is perfect.”
“Okay,” You say, straightening out the collar of his shirt. You can get behind taking things slow. It takes some of the pressure off you to adjust to this big change. “Wanna find a movie to watch?”
He perks up at that, grinning widely. “Hell yeah! There was some action comedy I wanted to see before I got deployed and I’m pretty sure it’s out on streaming now. Mind if we watch it?”
You won’t tell him just yet since things between you are the newest they’ll ever be, but you’d gladly watch anything with him. Instead, you just nod. “Go for it. Mind if I go change into some comfier clothes really quick?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll be here.”
Bradley’s queued up the movie on the TV already by the time you return, setting his phone aside when he hears you come back in.
You’re not quite sure where you should sit, but then he extends a hand out towards you, beckoning you into the cozy space under his arm, and all your questions are answered. It feels like you fit right in when you nestle against him, head falling against his shoulder like its second nature to do so.
“All good?” He asks, giving you a little squeeze and a fond smile.
“Never better.”
There’s no mistaking the happy gleam in his eyes, and you’re sure you have something of the same too.
You think the whole mail mix up situation from a few months ago had been the best mistake to ever happen to you, because it led you to Bradley, who—and you might be a little forward with this thought—might just become one of the best things in your life.
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#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fic#rooster bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fluff#rooster bradshaw fluff#top gun maverick fic
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“RING RING! FAILURE’S CALLING…” “SORRY, YOU HAVE THE WRONG NUMBER.”
| | THE 411 ON HOW TO NEVER FAIL AGAIN | |
XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL
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XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL
゚ failure is an identity and a choice ࿐
✰ TABLE OF CONTENTS ✰
✰ FAILURE IS A SKIN YOU CHOOSE TO WEAR ✰
✰ WHY SOME OF YOU KEEP “FAILING” ON REPEAT ✰
✰ THE IMPORTANCE OF SELF CONCEPT ✰
Hey Upper East Siders. We hear failure’s calling, you keep picking up the phone, and you can’t seem to hang up. And since failure’s unheard of on the upper east side, here’s everything you need to know about why you’re a failure, and how to stop being one.
✰ FAILURE IS A SKIN YOU CHOOSE TO WEAR ✰
Want to know what the fashionistas of the upper east side are wearing? Well it’s certainly not what you’re wearing. And as we all know, you need a good sense of style to choose what to wear, and failure is the one thing that’ll never be in fashion. Especially not on the upper east side. Don’t mind me judging your outfit…I think I see your horns growing. First of all, start off by understanding that nothing is meant to be difficult for you. You’ve just made it difficult for yourself.
Luckily for you, outfits aren’t permanent. And you can change them quicker than S switches boyfriends. And failure, is merely a hideous outfit that you’re choosing to wear. And in the world of fashion, your outfit is who you are. Before I help you change your style, let’s find out why you’re such a failure. Can’t solve the problem without knowing the root of the cause first, right?
✰ WHY SOME OF YOU KEEP “FAILING” ON REPEAT ✰
Somehow, every time you tell yourself that you’re going to persist and manifest whatever it was that you wanted, you fail. But when you want a cup of coffee, suddenly you’re god. But when it comes to your dream life, you’re suddenly a pathetic, powerless human being.
Ever wonder why that is?
Guess. Ding ding ding. It’s because your standards are low. Painfully low. Don’t look so confused. Let me show you. “I want my dream life so I persisted and I manifested a dream about my desired life!! ” is that what you call…success? Just when I thought you couldn’t stoop lower! Here’s another pathetic example. “I persisted to manifest my desired face and my eyelashes grew!!”
Don’t get me wrong upper east siders, but you settle for the lowest of the low. And that’s why you never get what you want. You’ve conditioned “success” with small things. You associate success with only a fraction of the thing you wanted. And never the full thing. You’ve adopted the assumption that you can’t manifest “big” things. (There’s no such thing as big and small but you know what I mean). It’s simply not natural to you.
Another big reason you keep failing is because you’re used to failure, which has led to a lack of trust/faith in yourself. It’s almost second nature to you. A wise woman called the wizard liz once said, “how can you trust yourself, if you keep promising yourself things and you don’t follow through?”
Truer words have never been spoken. It’s almost as if you know you’re going to end up failing. You’ve promised yourself your dream life several times, and you’ve clearly failed every time, and now you’ve got little to no trust in yourself. You know what’s going to happen, again. And that cycle is never going to end. You’ve almost broken every link in the chain. Almost. You can’t conceive of a world where you have everything you want. You view failure as an option. You don’t identify with your real creator/god self who cannot fail. And that’s exactly the problem.
I’ve got a friend called self concept and she’s either the root of the problem, or the solver of it. *Ring ring*!! I think she’s calling…
✰ THE IMPORTANCE OF SELF CONCEPT ✰
As we all famously know, your self concept is your assumptions about yourself and the world around you. It is literally everything. Every little assumption you have about yourself. It’s evident in everything and I mean everything that you do or say. The way you treat others, the way you treat yourself, the way you experience the world and most importantly, your FEELINGS. Your feelings come from SELF. Feeling scared? That’s who you’re identifying with. The outer self is the only one who can feel such negative feelings about the law of assumption, never the inner/god self who knows their full power.
And if it wasn’t obvious by now, your self concept is buried six feet underground, along with everything you’ve ever wanted. I hope you didn’t get a recent manicure…I hear knocking on the casket you’ve buried her in.
If I wasn’t clear enough before, let’s point out what your self concept looks like. Your standards are low and you’re used to failure. Yikes!
Now that you know why you keep failing, you can finally put it to an end. Hang up with failure, success is calling. It’s time to change your self concept to someone who always fails, to someone who only succeeds.
You know exactly what i’m going to say…and it’s change your assumptions!!! Your self concept IS your assumptions. Change self = change self concept. Same thing. And as you already know, to manifest anything, you change self (changing your awareness to being the person who has whatever it is that you “desire”).
From now on, failure is unheard of for you, success is your new best friend. I hope you weren’t expecting a step by step guide. For something so simple. All you need is your mind. Stop feeling like a failure. Start feeling successful. Knowing that you’re successful no matter what.
Still feeling lost? Surprisingly, i’ll let you off this time, but after this, no more excuses. -> CLICK ME for the perfect self concept!
Success is calling and your hand is inches away from the phone. You know what to do. XOXO
- gossip girl
XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL
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XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL
#void state#void#law of assumption#loa tumblr#loassumption#loa blog#loablr#manifestation#loa#the void state#loa manifestation#loa advice#dream life#desired reality#law of assumption blog#neville goddard#loa success#law of manifestation#edward art#loassblog#loa manifesting#4d reality#self concept affirmations#affirm and manifest 🫧 🎀✨ ִִֶָ ٠˟#living in the end#loa tips#i am state#pure consciousness#assume and persist#self concept
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michelle's buddie fic recs: week 6!
and what a week it's been... idk about you all, but i'm very much looking forward to all the 8b spec fic after seeing That One Leak...
this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.
if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!
a graveyard in blue | moonlightmornings/@moonlight-mornings | 12.9k | GA
After a call goes south because of limited resources and an equipment malfunction, Eddie's brave move to rescue a young girl takes a nasty turn. i love how this captures the energy and vibe of a rescue!! genuinely feels straight out of an episode <3
and i'd do it over and over again | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 4.4k | E
Buck and Eddie hook up at the end of "Confessions". oh when i tell you i savoured this one... such a wonderful fic that captures buddie's first time so so perfectly!! i love how their dynamic is written here <3
everything in between | simplyylupin | 2.1k | T
They’re quiet for a moment, mulling over the unsaid, and then Buck’s bringing his phone closer to his face, eyes squinting. “Are you naked?” the absolute codependency of these two <3 so good!!
hot ghost problems | ebjameston/@ebjameston | 40.9k | T
The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind. this was a reread! i was reminded of the magic system here and revisited it - can confirm that magic and ghosts and all that are so very good here, and i love the diaz siblings!!
i'll tell them put me back in it (and i would do it again) | paleredheadinascifi | 4.8k| T
Eddie doesn't know how to make his listening history private. Buck doesn't know what to do with the words in front of his eyes. Chris cannot believe he has to deal with either of them. the sheer brilliance of this concept... such a lovely look at the buckley-diaz dynamics! i was smiling the whole way through <3
it's golden, like daylight | rarakiplin/@hoediaz | 8.7k | T
“Shut up,” fingers dig into his ribs, “I mean, would you want to? Be married again?” such wonderful firefam dynamics!! i read this last week, i think, and already reread it this past week as well. a new favourite for sure <3
lonely little love dog | littleghost/@ghostlandtoo | 24k | M
When the 118 is closed for reconstruction after an earthquake, Buck is a floater for different stations around the city. He tries not to let it get to him. Much. this is such a fascinating look at buck's character!! and i LOVED the mara scene <3
parabola | semperama/@semperama | 4.6k | T
“Hey, uh. By the way.” Buck’s been thinking about this, and he has to say it now, or it’ll explode out of him at a much worse time, in a much worse way. “Make sure you don’t forget to change your will again.” truly no fic captures the angst with a happy ending tag like this. also this fic is how i learned that there's a special ao3 tag for eddie's will, which sounds about right. anyway, point is, this is wonderful!!
the last shred of truth in the lost myth of true love | lemonzestywrites/@lemonzestywrites | 25.7k | E
After the events of 6x13, Buck is worried he's lost his charm in bed. Eddie eagerly offers his services to prove otherwise. a reread of one of my favourite fics <3 there's something about the intersection of smut and feelings realisation and introspection in this fic that just hits so very hard, it's lovely <3
the whale fall principle | fastcardotmp3/@fastcardotmp3 | 95.5k | M
Daniel Buckley lives, but he’s still deciding what that means. Maddie is having a baby, but it isn’t her husband’s. And Evan knows his purpose. Until he doesn’t anymore. okay so definitely heed the creator chose not to use archive warnings tag here (there are specific warnings in the chapter notes) but holy shit, this fic. genuinely the best buckley sibling dynamics i have read, like, maybe ever. such a wonderful eddie and chimney and everyone, and such gorgeous writing!! if this one sounds up your alley, you're in for a treat <3
to ebb and flow | akapeterman/@akapeterman | 5.1k | GA
buck is sick, eddie is worried, and christopher is an angel. they'll be okay. i've really been vibing with sickfics lately, can you tell? this is another lovely lovely fic, such great hurt/comfort/domestic fluff!!
wait for me to come home | written_promises | 1.9k | GA
Eddie comes back home to LA from Texas to find Buck waiting for him… in his bed. Because he’s been living in Eddie’s home. and eddie's bed is exactly where buck should be<3 so soft and sweet and beautiful!!
we return to each other in waves | cozycatwriter/@leon-trans-kennedy | 3.1k | GA
“Yes I do. Of course I do. You saved Chris and looked after him the best you could during a tsunami-and you’re still recovering from an embolism from having your leg crushed on the job. The least I could do is look after you and let you stay the night. Besides, Chris would want you to stay.” post-tsunami fics my beloveds <3 it genuinely makes me so happy to see new ones pop up, and this is truly an excellent one!! i love the bed-sharing especially!
you need a friendly hand (and i need action) | AmZamReads | 13.1k | E
Eddie picks up pottery as a hobby and accidentally blows up on Instagram for "accidentally" posting thirst traps of him throwing on the wheel. Buck stumbles across the account and immediately becomes obsessed with Eddie's hands, and horny shenanigans ensues. this fic makes me wish i could make pottery. i love eddie's pottery friends!! and a lovely buddie dynamic too <3
#happy reading everyone!!#i hope you find something you like on this list <3#buddie#buddie fic#buddie fic rec#911 abc#911 fic#911 fic rec#michelle’s recs#fic rec list
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Hi, professional book typesetter/desktop publisher/graphic designer here! I've designed more than a few book covers for print publishing companies in my time and have a few tips/things to add.
Resolution. If you are making book covers for print (or, really, anything, for print), you're going to want your images to be high resolution. The go-to resolution for items like book covers is 300 dpi (dots per inch, sometimes called ppi—pixels per inch). Anything lower and you start to lose quality. (A lot of people are posting images at hella-high dpi as screen resolutions improve and they want their art to look good. This makes it so much easier for unsavory people to steal your art, slap it on a shirt, and have unsuspecting customers buy it without realizing it's super-duper stolen. So. Something to think about, maybe. :) )
Color Mode. Most people creating digital art for display on the web are doing it in RGB (red-green-blue) files. This is also, usually, the color mode for most digital cameras and thus the mode of any photos taken with them. It looks great on a screen because it's specifically how light mixes. If you're designing a cover for print, however, it's best to do it in CMYK (cyan-magenta-yellow-black), since those are how ink mixes. You can change this usually under something like... Image > Mode > CMYK; terms/location may vary from program to program. If you don't do this, when you print out your cover it is going to look dull and sad and not as bright and vibrant as what you designed in RGB.
Photopea.com is an amazing free in-browser graphics program that is very similar to Photoshop. A few of the tools are simpler/have to be approached at a different angle than Photoshop, but as someone who has been using paint programs for 35+ years and Photoshop for 25+ years, it's now my go-to when I don't want to boot up my old computer that has Photoshop installed. (I tried GIMP originally and while I didn't find it difficult to install, I found it a pain to work with and had to fight it every step of the way.)
In addition to those sites shared in the OP, a good place you to find free and Creative Commons images is Flickr. That link specifically goes to the advanced search page because you're going to want to mess with the Search filters—click that, scroll down and change Any license to Commercial use & mods allowed. A lot of U.S. government agencies (like FWS and NPS) have Flickr accounts where they post amazing photos. Any photo taken by a U.S. federal employee in the course of their duty is in public domain however this does not cover photos of people (you need photo releases for those).
When using Flickr to find images, it's always a good idea to check the description (especially if it's not a government account)—Flickr's default when you upload is to put all images under CC2.0 and that isn't always the intention of the photographer. :\ This is really important to keep in mind when using Wikimedia Commons (suggested by in the article linked in the OP) because some of the pictures on Wikimedia Commons were picked up from Flickr by a bot and the Flickr OP has since realized they originally posted with the wrong license and subsequently changed it. If you use Wikimedia Commons for CC pictures, always click back to the original source and double-check the license if it was picked up by a bot.
Too many writers are using generative 'AI' to make their book covers, so I've written a guide on how to make your own cover for free or cheap without turning to a machine.
If you can't afford to pay an artist, you CAN make your own!
I hope this is a helpful overview that covers the basics and points to some free resources.
#the wonderful world of publishing#I have an entire PDF guide on How to Find Free Images on the Internet#but I shan't link it here since I published it under CC with my RL name attached#there's a lot more in it about how to assess rights; search for images effectively; a LOT more image websites; dpi; etc.#it has a section on how to tell if an image has been manipulated (I originally wrote it for editors at work); should probably update with A#there was this one printer's site I used to use that would create a template file with the right size cover/spine + a barcode#you didn't even have to use the printer and they'd still generate a template file for you; tragically I can no longer remember the name#I've seen a lot of self-published books where the cover design is ON POINT but the resolution is shit; don't be that author#though to be fair I've seen some professionally published books with low-res images in them because people are not learning dpi
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what do u think about romance abolition? i recently discovered that i dont think romance actually exists as in i think every relationship every person has with anyone is unique and different. the concept of romance is rooted in a lof of our opressive systems and aphobia is inherently tied to it. i think these labels of being in a "romantic" relationship endanger everyone due to a percieved wrong clearness of what their relationship boundaries and expectations are and it also devalues "platonic" (and a lot other) relationships.
i also recommend the aromantic manifesto blog on here to kind of get part of the concept im talking abt
this comes from the mind of an audhd aroace trans person, if thats of any relevance!
thank u for ur blog an your opinions ⭐
I am fairly receptive to the idea that romance as we currently conceive of it is a recent cultural invention that is pretty ahistorical, and that is used to further the isolation of individuals from community. but also, I don't think we are going to get anywhere as a social or political movement in denying the feelings that a majority of people have, myself very much among them.
Even if it is all born of cultural conditioning, the cat is kind of out of the bag, and a great deal of us experience a romantic drive, romantic longings, close attachments that are romantic that we experience as distinct from non-romantic attachments, and view romance as a meaningful fount of inspiration in our art, sexualities, and even spiritualities.
I am all for a move away from amatonormativity and the primacy of the monogamous, legally committed relationship, but I do think there is something emotionally real going on there for those of us who experience it. I used to care a lot more about straightforward rationality, and after that about justice, but now I care a great deal about the emotionally felt reality of things, and the realms of life that are not easily categorized or known. I can't explain why the idea of romance is important to me, only that it is, and I personally have no desire in doing away with it.
perhaps I feel some of the resistance to the idea of romance abolition that some instantly feel when they first hear of family abolition-- The idea makes them uncomfortable because of what it sounds like, which is a threat to something that they are very bonded to.
I think on an institutional level it would be very beneficial to not tie social benefits or legal status to a person's romantic relationships. but in terms of my personal life? I draw very firm boundaries between relationships that are romantic in nature and those that are not, that is a distinction that is very important to me and I often feel really trampled upon by people who believe that no one should see a designation between those things. in most of the world writ large that's a very small problem, but I mostly run with polyamorous queer people who tend to see many of their relationships is a big mishmash of affection and commitment and friendship and that can get real fucking messy real fast in addition to being beautiful or revolutionary or what have you.
I think ultimately I'm a little bit more interested in providing the social supports and physical infrastructure that would make it more possible for individuals to form community in whatever ways that means for them. I think a lot of beneficial social changes and liberation would flow from that, rather than moving to abolish romantic relationships first.
and I really do get uncomfortable when a certain subcategory of relationally radical polyamorous queer people try to push against other people's romantic or sexual boundaries in the name of liberation; I understand if that sounds like a totally ridiculous complaint to you, the way a person complaining about veganism being forced on them almost always sounds like a overreacting cry baby, but I've been in enough toxic fucking communities since I was an 18-year-old to feel like I'm owed this grievance, and kind of want to give voice to it because I have seen people be abused in the name of otherwise really understandable ideals like these.
I think it is okay for a person to draw distinctions between their types of relationships, and to want certain forms of attachment with only certain people... there has to be a way to square this with a desire for greater community ties and interreliance. I need there to be, or it would not be a ideology I could really find myself safely within to be honest.
All that uncomfortable hand ringing aside, as a member of the asexual community and a person who does not form connections in a typical way, I have so much respect and care for my aromantic comrades and I do recognize how supremely excluded from basically every social practice and institution in the world you are, and how difficult it is for anyone to make family or build community for themselves in a world that prioritizes exclusive romantic relationships over everything. and I do really believe that fighting against that is a worthy and necessary project. I am perhaps just ultimately a bit less enlightened in terms of what I personally need and aspire to.
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Chapter 29: Ghosts of the Past
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Rating: Teen Audiences
Warnings: Protective!Paige, Azzi, Ice, Mentions of Y/N’s Ex, Panic Attacks
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x !Photographer Fem Reader
Fandom: Women’s Basketball
Summary: Why now...
Welcome to the chapter 29 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸
Shopping trips with the team were always filled with laughter, banter, and an unrelenting amount of teasing. It was one of those things that felt like a welcome distraction from everything else. Today was no different. Paige, Azzi, Ice, and I were in our usual group, having fun as we made our way through the aisles. The others had split off to check out a sneaker store just a few blocks down, leaving the four of us to do a little damage in a nearby boutique.
"Are you seriously trying to convince me that green looks good on everyone?" Azzi asked, holding up a neon green hoodie, her expression a mix of disbelief and amusement.
I snorted, glancing over at Paige, who was smirking at me. "I’m just saying," Paige teased. "Some of us can pull it off better than others."
"You mean like you?" Ice chimed in, causing Paige to give a dramatic shrug.
"Obviously," Paige responded, looking pleased with herself.
Azzi rolled her eyes. "Let’s get this over with before Paige starts modeling for us."
The lighthearted atmosphere filled the space, and for a moment, I felt the weight of the past few weeks lift. Between school, practice, and my constant juggling act, I hadn’t realized how much I needed this—just the simple joy of being with people I cared about.
But then, as I turned a corner of the store, the world seemed to freeze. My heart stuttered in my chest.
Standing just a few feet away, browsing through a rack of jackets, was someone I thought I’d never have to see again. My ex.
I froze, the blood draining from my face. The warmth that had settled in me moments ago disappeared in an instant, replaced by a cold, creeping fear that settled deep in my bones.
Paige’s voice broke through my panic. "Y/N?" she asked softly, stepping closer. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her, my eyes locked on the figure in front of me. I could feel my hands begin to shake as memories from that toxic relationship flooded my mind. The manipulation, the gaslighting, the verbal jabs—everything that once felt suffocating was suddenly there, fresh and painful.
"Why are you back here?" I muttered under my breath, my voice unsteady. I could barely even hear it over the roar of my heartbeat.
Azzi, noticing my sudden shift in energy, stepped up to my other side. "Who’s this?" she asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.
Before I could answer, the guy turned, his eyes locking with mine. "Y/N? Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here!" He said, his tone too casual, too comfortable for someone who had hurt me so badly.
Azzi's arms crossed as she shot a glare at him. "Who’s this?" she repeated, her voice laced with protectiveness.
"I’m her ex," the guy replied, his eyes flicking between Azzi and Paige. He was trying to figure out the situation. "We dated her freshman year."
I felt my knees go weak as the walls I had built so carefully around my past began to crumble. Paige immediately noticed the change in me, her hand instinctively finding mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You okay?" she whispered, her voice quiet but firm.
I couldn’t answer. My breath was coming in short bursts, my chest tight with anxiety. My ex’s presence alone was enough to send me spiraling.
Azzi’s voice was sharp and commanding as she addressed him. "Maybe you should leave."
"What? I’m not doing anything wrong," he protested, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"You’re making her uncomfortable," Paige said, her voice steely and authoritative.
His gaze flicked to me, and I could see the confusion on his face. "I just wanted to say hi."
"Hi, and now bye," Ice’s voice rang out from behind us, her words leaving no room for argument.
Azzi and Ice stood like a wall between me and my ex, their eyes fixed on him with a glare that would make anyone back off. In a matter of seconds, they had him out of the store, leaving me surrounded by the people who would always have my back.
I was still trembling, my breath uneven as I tried to regain control of my racing heart. Paige stepped closer, her hands cupping my face, her touch gentle yet firm. "Hey, hey," she whispered softly. "Look at me."
I couldn’t help it—tears welled in my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. Not here, not now, but everything came flooding back. "I... I didn’t want to see him again, Paige," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Why now? Why here?"
Paige’s hands rubbed comforting circles on my arms as she leaned her forehead against mine. "You’re safe now, Y/N. He can’t hurt you anymore." Her words were calm, soothing, like a balm on the wounds I didn’t even realize were still raw.
"I’m sorry," I whispered, the tears breaking free.
"You have nothing to apologize for," Paige said gently, brushing away the tear that had slipped down my cheek. "You’ve been through a lot, and you don’t owe him or anyone anything."
The rest of the team returned, the air filled with quiet tension. Ice, Azzi, and KK had made sure my ex was gone, but the damage lingered in the pit of my stomach. KK was the first to speak up. "What happened?" Her voice was laced with concern.
"Her ex showed up," Ice muttered, her tone sharp. "Total creep."
Paige wrapped her arm around me, pulling me close. "We’re going back to my dorm," she said firmly, her protective instincts flaring. "We’ll figure this out there."
At the dorm, things felt a little calmer, though my nerves were still shot. I sat curled up on Paige’s bed, a blanket draped around my shoulders, sipping on a cup of tea she had made for me. I didn’t want to talk about it—not yet. The memories were still too fresh, too painful.
Paige sat beside me, her presence calming, her fingers gently lacing through mine. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly, her voice quiet, giving me the space I needed.
I shook my head. "Not right now. But…thank you. For everything."
"You don’t have to thank me," Paige murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I’ll always protect you."
I leaned into her, letting her warmth and comfort settle me. "I know," I whispered. "I know."
Later that night, after I had finally managed to sleep, the nightmares came.
I woke up, my body drenched in sweat, my heart pounding as though I was back in that dark, toxic relationship. I gasped for air, feeling trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t escape. The panic rose in my chest, my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.
I tried to calm myself down, but the images were still there, haunting me—his face, the way he used to make me feel like I wasn’t good enough, that I was nothing.
But then, suddenly, a pair of warm hands cupped my face. Paige was there, her voice soft and steady as she whispered, "Hey, look at me. You’re safe."
I turned into her, the tears falling freely now. "I can’t breathe, Paige. I can’t—"
"Shh," Paige soothed, her hands running down my back as she gently rocked me. "Just breathe with me, okay? Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth."
I followed her lead, focusing on her voice, her presence, the way she always seemed to ground me when everything else fell apart.
"I’ve got you," she whispered. "You’re safe. You’re here with me, and no one can hurt you. Not anymore."
Slowly, I felt my breathing steady, the panic that had gripped me loosening its hold.
"Thank you," I whispered, my voice still shaky. "I’m sorry for waking you."
Paige smiled softly, her thumb brushing across my cheek. "Don’t apologize, baby. I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. Always."
I snuggled closer to her, my heart finally beginning to settle. "I’m lucky to have you," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips as I drifted back into a peaceful sleep, surrounded by the warmth of the girl who would always protect me.
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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶
-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️
Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 , @starlighttsv , @authentic-girl03 , @elalfywhore , @elalfywhore .... (more to be added)
#gabi writes#support the writers!#gabi answers#uconn wbb#paige bueckers#°~prettygirlgabi ask~°#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball#wbb#pb5#through the lens#paige bueckers series#!photographer reader x !super senior paige#paige buckets#paige bueckers x reader#paige x reader#paige bueckers uconn#wbb x reader#ncaa wbb#uconn x reader#uconn#ice brady#kk arnold#azzi fudd#aubrey griffin#sarah strong#jana el alfy#paige bueckers fic
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"This might be a new low for you." Hero's voice is firm, unwavering. Villain looks up from their delicate work, crossing of wires and fuses. They were hoping to get this explosive planted quickly and efficiently, though Hero's presence may delay their goal.
"I didn't know you previously held such a high opinion of me. I'm flattered." Villain's speaks in a deadpan tone.
Hero crosses the room, standing before Villain, arms folded in irritation. "A government building? Really? I thought my opinion of you couldn't get lower, but you dropped the bar into hell." Villain looks up, meeting their stern glower. Their fingers drum across the wooden desk the explosives sit on, holding Hero's gaze.
"Is this supposed to have any effect on me? I'm used to your scorn." They stand up, rising to Hero's height. "Either try to stop me or get lost. If you try to fight me, though, know I won't go easy on you this time."
This was too important. They didn't have time to play their usual games with Hero, or worry about their disappointment.
"I can tell." Hero speaks, sitting down on the desk, as if uncaring about the literal ticking bomb inches away. "You have that look on your face. Like you're thinking hard about something." They sigh as if exhausted. "Trying to fight you when you get like this never goes well."
"So leave-"
"Nope." Hero crosses their legs, uncrosses them, and leans back, meeting Villain's stare again. They're forcing a show of relaxation, but Villain doesn’t miss the way their limbs shake, or the way fingers won't stay still. "I have a better idea." They continue.
"Do go on."
"You go ahead and finished setting up these explosives and high tail it out of here like a coward, and I'll stay here." Hero's tone is like that of someone discussing the weather, or the latest sports game.
Villain blinks, opens their mouth, and closes their mouth before finally finding their words.
"What? You do know what a bomb is, right? I know your skull is a bit thick, but you do realize what would happen in that case?"
Hero makes a show of a fake explosion with their hand, complete with an auditory Woosh.
"I'd be turned into paste. Probably. If your weapons skills are even that good." They try to keep their voice in that same casual tone, but yet again, Villain doesn't miss the slight tremble. They're frightened. None of this makes sense.
Villain pauses for a moment. "Are you suicidal? Is this a cry for help because I'm sure this Hero gig of yours pays well enough for some therapy-"
"Nothing like that." Hero interrupts with a shake of their head and a laugh devoid of humor. "I appreciate the concern, but no, that's not what's going on here."
Staying quiet for a moment, Villain waits for them to elaborate.
"I'm calling your bluff." They say simply. Like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "It's easier than trying to fight you and getting my ass kicked."
Frowning, Villain speaks a bit firmer, still confused though. "You're what?"
"I am calling your bluff. You can go ahead and blow up this building, but I'll be right here when it detonates." Hero smirks, like they've figured villain out.
Standing up taller, they lean over the wooden table and grab one of Hero's shoulders harshly. Their face becomes something wild.
"Are you really so self-centered, so arrogant, that you somehow- somehow in that stupid mind of yours think-" They exhale harshly through their nose and let go. "You think that your stupid threat of self destruction is enough to make me change my mind? You think your life matters to me, at all?" Their voice gets harsher as they speak, volume raising slightly. Why would Hero even try this?
"Okay then. So prove how worthless my life is to you." Hero shrugs. "You go ahead and set the bomb off, and I'll stay here." Hero tries to hide their smug smile. Despite their fear, they know they've caught Villain off guard.
Pinching their own face so hard they worry their nails may cut skin, Villain breathes loudly.
"You realize I could turn this back around on you, right? I could call your bluff. You wish to risk your life like this?"
"Call my bluff then." They challenge. "Unless you defuse this bomb, I'm not leaving." Hero raises their chin defiantly, eyes dagger sharp.
Villain rounds the table, grabbing Hero roughly, jostling them with a grip hard enough to ache. Hero's face doesn't change. "You think I can't drag you out of here? That I couldn't possibly knock you out and take you with me?" And then give them lecture filled with ire boarding on something violent later.
"You can certainly try," They keep that rebellious smile on their face, "but I'd fight you tooth and nail the whole way, and is that how you want to spend your precious escape time?"
Sneering, Villain can't decide if they want to shove them away or grip them tighter. "I hate you. I hate you so much." They all but snarl at them. If the imminent threat of explosion didn't kill Hero, they're sure the look on their enemy's face would.
Still, Hero pushes. "No, you don't. If you did, you'd already be out the door. You'd be killing two birds with one stone." Hero's hand reaches for the beeping package of wires, hand trembling, but they grab it nonetheless. They shove it to Villain roughly.
"Prove you hate me. Or defuse the bomb." They keep on the act of confidence, but that underlying dread is still in their eyes, the deep seated fear of what will happen.
Idiotic as always, Villain decides. Like there was any chance Villain would do anything else but spare them. Their stupid, infuriating Hero.
"I can't stand you." They growl, ripping one wire from the fuse.
#hero x villain#villain x hero#writers on tumblr#prompts#original writing#hero#dialogue prompt#hero prompt#villain#villain prompt#writeblr#prompt#writing prompts#writing prompt#superhero
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Alright, here’s the arrival of part 3 of “Just Tired”. I’m so glad that there’s been so much interest in this series! I’m wanting to make this series as realistic as possible for someone going through it as I still struggle with the trauma for when I went through it, even though I escaped him at the end of 2021. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!
On another note: I was listening to Angel Eyes by ABBA as it seemed fitting lol. Would have posted this earlier but I was watching the chiefs get their asses handed to them. Go Birds! 🦅
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
Just Tired -Part 3
Warnings: Manipulation relationship, small masturbation part, Melissa going through some confusion
Words: 3.75
You awake at 5am to your alarm going off and you shut it off before you get ready. You hop in the shower and in there you can’t help your mind drift to Melissa and how beautiful she looks, even when she was downright ignoring you.
“Stop it, mind! She’s married.” You remind yourself. But that doesn’t stop your hand from wandering down to your clit and start circling it.
You lean against the shower wall and close your eyes as you picture Melissa being there. You imagine how her lips would feel all over you, how she might make you come. Would she want to use her tongue or her fingers or even a strap? You honestly wouldn’t say no to any of those if she was asking. You then feel yourself right at the edge and you start circling faster and then you come. You quickly have your shower and then you get ready and leave at 6:30. You walk up to her house at 6:58 and you knock on her door. She opens the door a few seconds later and she takes your breath away.
“Hey Y/n, just gotta grab my things then we can go.” She says and you nod.
“Alright.” You say and then take a step back and watch as she gathers all her things. When you step back you notice her ‘Go Away!’ welcome mat and you snort. “Nice mat.” You tell her as she steps outside and she smiles.
“It’s to ward off unwanted visitors.” She says as she locks the door.
“Does it work?”
“Most of the time, yes.” She says and you both walk to her car. “Apparently it doesn’t work on family.” She adds and you smile.
“Good to know.” You tell her. “So you giving me rides, does this make us acquaintances?” You ask her and she looks at you before starting the car.
“No, this is me just helping someone in need, and I’m not going out of my way to help them.”
“So you have a heart then.” You say and she rolls her eyes at you before bringing the car onto the street. “So is the husband not up?” You ask her and she shakes her head.
“He doesn’t get up until another half hour. He doesn’t have to be at the fire station until 9.” She tells you.
“He’s a firefighter?” You ask her and she nods.
“Yep.” She says and you take your phone out and go on your social media. You look up Melissa on Facebook and then you click on the name where it says who she’s married to and see a picture of him.
“And what exactly do you see in this… Joe?” You ask her and she looks at you quickly before turning her attention back to the road.
“Did you just look at my account?” She asks.
“Obviously. But what exactly do you see in him? I mean there’s ones much better looking than him.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you. “I’m gay not blind.” You tell her and she snorts.
“We met in college and he was really nice to me. He kept talking to me, giving me gifts that he knew I’d like, listening to what I say, wanting to spend all his free time with me, even before he asked me out.” She tells you and two words come to your mind when she says this, love bombing. You don’t say anything as it’s not your place and it was probably like over 20 years ago and you’re sure things are different now.
“So why are you so closed off?” You ask her to change the subject.
“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?” She asks.
“I don't normally, only when something catches my interest.” You say and she quirks an eyebrow at you.
“And I caught your interest?” She asks and you nod.
“You seem like an interesting person, and you wanting to say nothing about your life only makes you more interesting. You’re a mystery.” You tell her.
“And I like to remain a mystery.” She tells you.
“You know I could probably just ask Barb questions about if I really want, I mean you two seem close.” You say.
“Barb and I have been best friends for over a decade and she knows I like my privacy. She won’t tell you a thing.” She says to you and you lean back in the seat and pout.
“Are we close enough for me to at least know your favourite colour?” You ask her.
“It’s pink.” She says and you give her a weird look. “What?”
“The badass of Abbott likes pink? I would have never guessed that.”
“What’s wrong with pink?”
“It’s seen as a colour for little girls, especially when Barbie came out.” You explain.
“Alright, what colour do you like?” She asks.
“F/C.”
“Ok, interesting.” She says as she pulls up into the parking lot of Abbott and then you both get out and walk into the building.
*In the break room*
“I’m telling you that I saw Melissa purposely go up and start talking to Y/n. And not only that but it seemed like there was some attraction there as well.” Janine tells Jacob.
“It doesn’t matter for Melissa if there’s attraction, she’s married to a nice ma… she’s married.” Barb tells them. “She has never cheated on him and she doesn’t intend to. And has never thought about leaving him either…even though she should.” Barb adds and she gets a weird look from Janine and Jacob.
Just then you and Melissa both enter the break room and everyone looks at you both.
“What are youse looking at?” Melissa asks them.
“This is the third day where you get here at the same time.” Jacob says as you go to sit down with him and Janine.
“We just end up getting here at the same time. Is that a crime?” You ask them.
“Ok what about yesterday? I saw Melissa and you talking and smiling.” Janine asks you.
“Janine, what exactly are you asking?” You ask her and cross your arms.
“Is there an attraction between you two?” She bluntly asks. “You have mentioned you’re into hot older gingers and Melissa fits that.” She adds.
“Ok, first of all, Melissa and I were talking about our job yesterday as she was nice enough to give me pointers. Second of all, yes Melissa is a hot older ginger but she’s married and we’re not even acquaintances as Melissa very clearly told me that she barely talks to newbies.” You tell everyone and they shut up after that.
“So what pointers did Melissa give you yesterday?” Janine asks after a couple minutes.
“She told me to not do my lesson plan so far in advance and expect to fall behind, don’t be too stressed that it’s my first year of teaching on my own and she generously took a look at my first week lesson plan and said it was good and the kids will enjoy it.” You tell them and you weren’t lying as Melissa did actually tell you all those things.
“Melissa, you gave her that advice?” Barb asks her and Melissa nods.
“I don’t like communicating with newbies but the kid looked like she was gonna have a panic attack, I wasn’t gonna sit by and do nothing.” Melissa tells her.
“Oh Janine and Jacob, would you help me hang a few things that require 2 people?” You ask them and they immediately nod.
“As long as it’s not on a ladder.” Janine says and you nod.
“You’re not climbing a ladder, it’s not high.” You tell her.
Melissa watches from her desk as you and Jacob hang some stuff up and Janine directs you both to make sure it’s straight. Melissa’s mind starts to wander. She doesn’t know why but you seem to have caught her interest a bit. Her telling you her husband doesn’t forgive her just honestly slipped out and she doesn’t why she said it. Of course her husband forgives her every time. And then she tries to remember when was the last time he said he’s sorry and she can’t remember.
“I’m telling you it’s straight.” She hears Janine says.
“It doesn’t look straight to me.” She hears you counter. She then gets up and leans against her doorframe with her arms crossed. She sees you and Janine a few feet away from her and you’re looking at your board.
“You two are loud.” She says and catches both of your attention.
“How about we ask Melissa?” You tell Janine.
“No, she’ll just side with you as you’re friends.” Janine counters.
“Ya, we’re not friends.” Melissa says and goes to stand beside Janine and looks at the board. “And it’s not straight.” She says and sees you sticking your tongue out at Janine. “It’s a little high on the left.” She adds and then goes back to her door. “Try to keep it down this time.” She says and then walks inside her classroom.
At lunchtime she gets there before anyone else does and takes a few seconds to decompress as she gets her salad out. Everyone else comes in about a minute later and Barb gets her lunch and sits down and immediately notices Melissa is looking stressed.
“Are you alright?” Barb asks her.
“Ya, just a headache.” Melissa says softly.
Barb knows that she’s lying. But she also knows Melissa enough to know that she’s not ready to say anything and she’ll tell her when she is ready.
“Want some ibuprofen?” You ask since you heard as you were at the coffee maker. “I always carry some as I can get some painful cramps when menstruating. And that’s probably too much information.” You immediately say and it gets Melissa to crack a smile.
“It’s not that type of headache, but thanks hon.” Melissa tells you and you nod.
“Want some coffee? New batch is ready.” You offer and she nods and gives you her coffee mug.
“Thanks kid.” She says as you hand her the mug back with coffee.
“Y/n, do you have any plans this weekend?” Janine asks you as you join her and Jacob at the table.
“Probably just watch the game, I hope the Eagles hand the cowboys their asses.” You say and you don’t notice Melissa smiling at that comment.
“What about you?” You ask her and she goes into some detailed plan about what her and Tariq are doing this weekend.
When lunch ends, you all get up to go but Melissa stops you and Janine.
“Just wanted to let you both know that around February is when I do this Peter Rabbit art project with the kids and each of your second graders can join as well.” She says to you both.
“Oh that sounds exciting. What do they usually make?” You ask her.
“A rabbit face from paper plates.” She says.
“Oh that sounds fun, definitely count my class in as it sounds exciting. Y/n is your class going to join?” Janine asks.
“Definitely count my class in as well, they’ll enjoy that.” You tell Melissa and she nods before she goes back to her classroom.
At the end of the day, you pack up your things and you head out the door and you run into Jacob and Janine and you have a conversation with them for a few minutes before they both head to their cars. You start to head to the bus stop when Melissa stops you.
“My car is the other way.” She tells you and you turn around to face her.
“I didn't know how long your offer was by driving me home.” You tell her.
“Until you can get gas in your car.” She says and you smile before following her to her car. You both don’t notice everyone watching you both as you get in Melissa’s car.
“Thanks again.” You tell her as you do up your seatbelt and she pulls out. “So how long have you done the Peter Rabbit project for?” You ask her.
“Since I started working here, almost 15 years ago.” She tells you. “By the way, do you really think I’m hot?” She asks you and you furrow your eyebrows. “You told Janine that in the break room this morning.” She clarifies.
“Well of course you are. You honestly don’t need all that makeup.” You tell her and you see her smiling and a hint of a blush on the cheek that you see.
Melissa gets home a few minutes after dropping you off and she immediately goes to the kitchen for a glass of wine. She takes a deep breath after she takes a few sips and puts her head in her hands. She keeps getting compliments and praises from you and she doesn’t know how to react. She then realises that it’s been awhile since she received any from Joe and a tear slips down her cheek but she quickly wipes it off.
“Don’t cry, I’m not sensitive.” She tells herself and takes a big sip of her wine.
She has 2 glasses of wine and ends up falling asleep on the couch. When Joe gets home, he leaves her be and goes to reheat leftovers and watches tv in the bedroom. Melissa gets home a couple hours later and immediately goes to eat. After she eats she hears the tv on upstairs and goes to see Joe.
“Finally awake?” Joe asks her and she nods her head.
“You could have woken me up.” She tells him.
“I wanted to watch tv by myself anyway without being asked for cuddles or any kisses.” He tells her.
“I’m sorry, I know sometimes I might be too needy and I’m trying not to be.” She tells him and she goes downstairs to watch tv by herself.
She falls asleep on the couch again and wakes up around 4am. She gets her phone out and sees that it’s dead so she charges it as she makes breakfast. She eats and then she puts some in a container for Joe when he gets up. She gets ready for work and then she goes outside a few minutes early and sees you pull up on your bike.
“I woke up late but I don’t remember biking being this tiring.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you.
“You can leave it in the backyard for now.” She tells you and you nod. You come back out a couple minutes later and you get in the car.
The car ride this time was pretty quiet as you tried to make conversation but wasn’t getting replies. She pulls up 10 minutes later and you both get out and walk inside. This time you actually don’t head to the break room, you turn into your hallway and head to your classroom instead. It takes Melissa about 30 seconds to notice as she was in her own world and wanted to question you but you were too far ahead.
“Did you and Y/n not arrive at the same time today?” Barb asks her.
“No, I saw her come in, she went to her classroom for whatever reason.” Melissa explains.
“Interesting thing yesterday, I saw her get in your car when we were all leaving for the day.” Barb says and everyone looks at Melissa.
“Oh, well that’s none of youse businesses.” Melissa says. Right after she says that, you walk in and you head straight for the coffee machine.
“Y/n, we all saw you go in Melissa’s car yesterday.” Janine immediately tells you and you shrug.
“Cool.” Is all you say and pour yourself a cup and head back to your classroom. Janine and Jacob sensed something must be wrong and follow you out.
“So Melissa, now that we’re alone, want to tell me what’s happening?” Barb asks Melissa.
“On Tuesday I saw Y/n on the side of the road in my neighbourhood and she said she ran out of gas. I’ve just been giving her rides as she lives like a minute away from me, that’s all.” Melissa explains.
“Well that’s nice of you.” Barb says and really looks at Melissa. “Is something wrong?”
“What do you think of Joe?” Melissa asks her and Barb tilts her head.
“What do you mean?”
“Well Y/n has actually given me compliments in the week she’s been here, more compliments than Joe has given me in the past year. So what does that say?” Melissa asks her.
“That Joe doesn’t give compliments.” Barb simply says. “Melissa, I’ve given my opinion on Joe many times over a decade ago and you always gave reasons why I was wrong. I stopped trying as you kept defending your marriage with him.”
“Well you never had a lot of nice opinions about him but you never knew him like I do.” Melissa states.
“You’re right, I don’t. And I hope he’s changed since then.” Barb says and goes back to her cup of coffee.
*Your classroom*
“So you went on a date 2 months ago with a girl, but stayed friends and she invited you to watch the game at a bar this weekend?” Janine says and you nod.
“I thought like everyone else that she’d just forget me and we’d never talk again.” You tell them.
“So you have a new friend, what’s the problem?” Jacob asks you.
“She’s a little crazy.” You tell them. “I’m just hoping that after the game, she never wants to speak to me again.” You add.
Melissa gets to her classroom and sees your door is closed but can see Jacob and Janine standing near your desk from the little window on the door.
The morning goes by quickly for Melissa, and before she knows it, it’s lunchtime and she heads to the break room and gets her lunch.
“So I was notified this morning by a parent of one of my students that I’m getting.” You say to Janine and Jacob.
“And what did they want?” Janine asks.
“They wanted to let me know that they tested their daughter over the summer and apparently this kid is dyslexic.” You tell them and that catches Melissa’s attention and she turns around to look at you.
“Do you know how to teach a dyslexic child?” Melissa asks you and you shake your head.
“No, but I could just google some ways to help her.” You tell her and she nods and goes on her phone.
You go to your classroom and an hour later Melissa walks in and closes your door behind her and walks up to your desk where you’re arranging some papers.
“Melissa, what can I-”
“Can you switch the dyslexic kid over to my class?” She asks you and you tilt your head.
“Why?” You ask her.
“I can help her better.” She states and you furrow your eyebrows.
“Look I know I’m new but I’m pretty sure I’m not an idiot.” You say and she sighs.
“It’s not about you being new, it’s the fact that you can’t relate to her.” She says and the gears in your head are turning until it dawns on you.
“You’re dyslexic?” You ask her and she nods.
“I haven’t had a student who’s dyslexic and I feel like I can help her the same way that I was.” She says and you smile.
“Of course, want to go to the principal to make the transfer right now?” You ask her and she looks taken back.
“Wait, you’re not going to say no?” She asks and you shrug.
“Since you’re dyslexic then you might be the best teacher to help her.” You tell her and you go to your door. “Come on, let’s go see Principal Coleman.” You say and she follows you to Ava’s office.
“What do you two want?” Ava asks you.
“We want to transfer a student from my class to Melissa’s class.” You tell her and she rolls her eyes before she gets to one of the women in the office and you follow her.
“Can you do a classroom transfer?” She asks her and the woman nods. “She’ll help you with that.” Ava tells you both and you nod.
“Thank you.” You say and you and Melissa get the transfer done. “I’ll also send you the email that the parents sent me. They said a couple ways that they’ve noticed have helped her.” You tell Melissa on the way back and she nods.
“Ok, thank you.” She tells you and you nod.
“I’ll also notify the parents and tell them about the transfer.” You tell her and she nods. “Do you mind if I tell them that you’re dyslexic as well?” You ask her.
“No, that’s alright. It’ll probably make them happier that their daughter’s teacher has the same thing.” She says.
“Alright, I’ll forward you the email right away.” You tell her and go inside your classroom.
Melissa receives the email a few minutes later and sees the ways to best help her and writes it down.
She goes through the rest of what she needs to get done and finishes about an hour before the day ends. She stays on her phone for the rest of the day and waits a few minutes for you in the parking lot.
“You waited for me?” You ask her as she’s leaning against her car.
“Well I offered you rides, plus your bike is at my place.” She says. “I’m gonna drive to my place and you can bike home.” She tells you and you nod.
“Sounds good.” You say.
Melissa drives you both to her place and you go to get your bike right away.
“Hey Melissa.” You say as you come out with your bike and she looks at you. “I can probably actually just bike to and from school.”
“You ran out of breath biking for like 5 minutes. How are you going to survive for another 30 minutes?” She asks you and you shrug. “Mm, I’ll see you Monday at 7.” She tells you and then goes inside. You put your helmet on, get on your bike and start biking back home. Melissa watches from the window as you leave and she sighs. “What the fuck am I doing?” She says out loud and goes to get some wine and chocolate.
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#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti x oc#melissa schemmenti x you#melissa schemmenti fanfic#melissa schemmenti#x reader#fanfic#lisa ann walter#law#abbott elementary
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I have something for Johnny if you want.
Johnny x shy!reader that has scarlet witch powers? Being Johnny girlfriend and Johnny family adores shy!reader
‘I’m starting to think my family likes you more then me at this point.’ Johnny says one day as he face planted your shared bed.
‘How so Johnny?’ You asked sweetly as you waved your hand as you brought a blanket over your boyfriend’s body with your magic, never failing to notice the soft smile that grew across his face as he lifts himself from the pillow to face you.
‘Are you kidding me? I mean look at you!’ He exclaims as he gestures to all of you shamelessly, making you feel a little exposed by his beautiful brown doe eyes that never seemed to fail in making you melt. ‘You’re sweet, compassionate, adorable to an unfair extent it makes me question how a being as beautiful as you could exist, and did I forget to mention that you’re an absolute badass with your powers?’ Johnny adds with a smirk as he saw how easily affected you were by his words as he counts off everything he found to adore you for on his fingers.
You groan playfully as you smacked Johnny on his bicep, a sheepish smile began to spread across your lips, all the while attempting to fight back the butterflies that were making their presence known within your stomach. It didn’t matter if you were dating Johnny for a few weeks or a few months, for he would always find ways to make you feel as though no time has passed between the two of you.
You at first didn’t want anything to do with the cocky, overly confident, playboy known as Johnny Storm and stayed away from him for a good while…until you couldn’t and it lead to what you considered the best decision you ever made in agreeing to let him take you on a date. However recently Johnny’s sister Sue, her husband Reed and Ben had been taking note of the subtle changes within johnny and knew someone was the reason behind it, which had lead to Johnny dragging you to the Baxter building more times then you can count to meet his family; whom of which had grown a fondness towards you and your positive influence on Johnny himself.
‘Johnny…’ you drew out his name as you buried your head into his shoulder, holding him close as you selfishly leeched off of his warmth, not that you’d ever tell him this but you were certain with how eager he was to keep you in his arms chuckling. He was very much aware and was more than willing to indulge you as he was just as much addicted to your soft, comforting hugs that he swore to high heavens he would die without.
‘I’m not lying! You should hear them half of the time! Where’s y/n? Johnny, go get your better looking partner. Johnny, where is my future sibling in law, you can’t hog them all the time.’ Johnny replied as he made dramatic voices for the likes of Sue, Ben and Reed based on the most recent interactions with them, most of which were asking for you or wondering how you were in general. Johnny didn’t mind, if anything he was downright ecstatic knowing that his family were just as obsessed with you as he was, he adored how you and his sister got along the most; knowing straight away from the moment he found you and his family sharing stories in the kitchen that this was something he wanted to see more often in the future.
Commitment wasn’t his thing, it never was until he met you, and as cliche as that sounded -and he knew just how cliche it came across- but it was true and Johnny wouldn’t want it any other way. He’d even claim you had put some type of spell on him, to which you only hide your smile from his groan inducing joke in regard to your magical abilities. He even remembered the day that he realised that you were the type of person he wanted to bring to his family, something he never gave a deeper insight into before you mind you as he never felt that deep of connection.
So everyday when he wakes up to see you cuddled into his side peacefully and safely, he considered himself the most luckiest man alive, and he didn’t bother to hide it either as he bragged to anyone with ears that someone as wonderful as you had chosen a hotheaded stud muffin -his words- like him.
You smiled as you cuddled further into him, knowing firsthand that he was right, and you were still getting use to the idea that his family adored you from the moment Johnny brought you to your first of many Sunday family diners. You remembered sweating bullets and tugging at your formal attire, but Sue and Reed were more than welcoming and reassuring, meanwhile Ben was full on teasing Johnny about how he was growing into a true man.
However before you could respond you were quick to remember that you were very much late for your day out with Sue. You gasp upon realisation as you push Johnny away from you, who fell back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief that you had just pushed him away. ‘I’m late!’ You cried as you moved away from your baffled boyfriend, who had propped himself to his arms.
‘Late for what?’ Johnny asks as he watched you sort yourself out for an outing he wasn’t aware was taking place.
You smiled softly, not wanting to give too much away of what you and Sue had planned prior. ‘Sue wanted help to find something for Reed for Valentine’s Day, and I agreed to help her.’ You half lied, well you weren’t lying about helping his sister find something for Reed, but what you had left out was the fact that you were also using this time to find something for Johnny yourself. To you he deserved something for being such an amazing partner, and you were thankful that Sue was more than happy to help you in doing so during your most recent late night conversations with the blonde woman.
‘I just want to find something for him that he’ll love,’ you told Sue as you allowed your magic to flourish between your fingertips, a nervous habit you had developed the moment you realised that you were capable of feet’s no other magic user has ever accomplished before, it was a comfort to you and brought your mind back to what was most important to you and what was most important to you was Johnny smiling.
She smiles, glad to know that her brother was blessed with someone like you, reached out to grab your hand in hers as she squeezed it in reassurance. ‘Whatever you get him, I’m certain Johnny will treasure forever.’
‘Really? You really think so?’ You asked her, still a little nervous despite having been with Johnny for a while, but that man had a way to make you feel as though you were falling for him all over again and you wanted to hate him for it, and yet you found yourself becoming shy and flustered whenever the man even threw his arm over your shoulder. If this was what love was like then you hoped to stay in this never ending state of adoration and mutual understanding for as long as you could.
‘I know so.’ Sue replied, her eyes had a knowing look to them. ‘Johnny would take anything you give him becuase you were the one that give it to him, that thought that he would like it and all he’ll care about is that you had him on the mind and to show that you care about him.’ She finished, squeezing your hand again when she saw sparks of your magic come to life at your fingertips, rubbing her thumb across the back of your hand. You smiled at her. ‘Then I can’t wait for tomorrow.’ You tell her, beaming.
Johnny smiled from his place on the bed, again happy to see you and his sister bond and become close to one another, it was a simple thing that he didn’t know he needed but then again that was the magical thing about you. You made him want simple and small things that he would’ve taken for granted, or not even considered in the first place, and for that he couldn’t help but find himself wanting moments like this in your future together.
However before Johnny could open his mouth to push you for more details on your outing with his sister, the door opened to reveal Sue stood on the other side, obviously having been waiting for you but not showing an ounce of annoyance in the slightest.
‘I’m here to steal your partner.’ Sue says to her brother as she grasps your arm, pulling you to her side.
‘Not the first time my beloved is being stolen from me by you, Reed or Ben.’ Johnny scoffs playfully as he watched you and Sue link arms, already acting like you were in laws for a long time with how relaxed and comfortable you were with one another.
‘Oh you can have them back as soon as we’re finished shopping.’ Sue retorted.
‘So like ten hours from now?’ Johnny sarcastically replies with and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sibling squabble, making him look at you with a warm smile. ‘Don’t I get a goodbye kiss at least from my most beloved?’ Before you could give him his kiss, Sue drags you out of the room with her and out the door, though not before shouting over her shoulder followed by your laughter. ‘You’ve had enough time today to trade kisses, now you have to wait.’
Johnny only groans dramatically as he flops back onto his bed, impatiently waiting for you to come back not even seconds after you left his room, he really was in love like the sappy bastard Ben teased him in being.
#johnny storm x y/n#johnny storm x you#johnny storm fanfiction#johnny storm fluff#johnny storm x reader#fantastic four imagines#fantastic four imagine#fantastic four x reader#mcu x reader#mcu imagines#mcu imagine#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#marvel imagines
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let it once be me | the prophecy part 3
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note: hey ,,, remember her ,,,,,,,,, ! feeling hashtag nervous to post this but pls tell me ur thoughts this went through !!! so many drafts !!! almost lost my mind like thirty times lol but thank u for reading <3 (reading prior parts may be helpful in having context for this part but im not really sure it's necessary, they're way shorter than this part either way)
summary: you and spencer are faced with yet another wedge in your relationship, and you're not sure if it'll survive this time
cw: heavy spoilers for everett lynch arc (15.10), we're ignoring the cm tl and time doesn't exist, maeve flashback, hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending !
wc: 8k (wtf)
part 1 part 2
Spencer feels he’s lived many lives, and that his lived experiences have thoroughly prepared him to navigate novel situations with a small familiarity. A cushion really, to allow him the comfort of seeing the path before he has to walk it blind. It almost acts as a sense of pride for him, a testament to what he’s overcome and capable of facing.
There’s nothing prideful about how awful things have been going with you.
It’s been weeks since your talk with him. Weeks since he vowed to prove to you that you were it for him, and he’s made so little progress he finds it embarrassing for someone with his caliber of intellect.
He’s toeing a fine line between being in your presence enough for you to see that he’s trying, and giving you space so that you don’t feel smothered. It was harder in the immediate days after your talk, when you couldn’t even stand to stay in the same room as him for more than five minutes. You had come home to his apartment the day after having decided Penelope had enough of your moping. Once you got in you immediately went to settle into the guest room.
It was near radio silent between you both those first few days. He didn’t want to force you, but it didn’t feel great when you would leave a room as soon as he’d enter. As the days went on, Spencer started getting resourceful. He’d make you breakfast in the morning and leave it on the table for you, your coffee next to it made exactly how you take it. Then it was little notes left in the most random places, all written with different things he loved about you. He never saw your reaction when you read them, but they’d always disappear from its spot the next day. Little things to remind you he’s there for you.
More days passed and it finally felt like the ice was starting to melt away. You’d started lingering longer in the living room if he was sat at the table still. One time you even made breakfast for the both of you, and although you weren’t there to eat it with him Spencer had never felt more hopeful.
In the field your dynamics changed even more. Normally, he would make sure to be paired up with you in the field to personally ensure that you were being safe. Since the fallout however, he didn’t want to be an unwelcome presence that only left you more tense in high stake situations. So he’d do things like privately tell Emily to double check your bulletproof vest, or make sure Luke was at your 6 if he couldn’t do it himself.
The last thing he wanted was for your current circumstance with each other, one that he knows he created, to distract you in the field and god forbid cause something to happen to you. He would never forgive himself if you got hurt because of him, but Spencer remembers he’s already done the worst hurt he can fathom to you, and what he really means is that he can’t afford to hurt you any further. As much as it worried him to do so, he had reluctantly learned to place some trust in his teammates to keep you safe. It was a balance he’d learned to adapt to.
It worked fine until it didn’t.
The silent car ride from the jet back to your apartment was so thick with tension, but not the one you’ve both become accustomed to over the weeks. No this was a different strain of anger, one that descended down to the primal nature of your relationship—you endangering yourself.
Spencer opens the door, barely waiting for you to enter behind him before slamming it shut. “That, what you did today, was fucking reckless.”
The anger flares through your widened eyes, “Reckless? I saved the hostages, Spencer. He would have killed them!”
“And what about you?”
“What about me, I had it handled.” you huff.
He raises his hands in exasperation, “He had a gun to your head!” he yells, “You have no idea what it’s like to see that.”
“This isn’t the first time someone drew a weapon on me, and there’s definitely more times than I can count when they’ve drawn one on you,” you pause, “Or is it different right now because you got deja vu?”
“What’s that supposed to mean—” Spencer’s face pales in recognition, “That’s not fair.”
“The hell do you mean it’s not fair? You expect me to believe otherwise?”
“He was going to shoot you!” he loudly repeats, “You don’t think I care about your safety?”
“I think you only give a shit right now because you thought another girl you loved was about to get her brains blown out in front of you. Again.”
He’s stunned into silence. Your words feel like a paralytic to Spencer. Like venom slowly traveling down his veins seizing any chance for his body to save himself. All the progress he thinks you both have made just unraveled itself into nothing. It’s paradoxical that his mind is quiet. You’re usually the reason his mind can relax, but somehow you’ve achieved the same outcome by metaphorically stabbing him square in the face.
He can’t understand when you developed the idea that he could care less about you. He can’t understand how you can even think he would be capable of
of not being with you entirely. He can’t understand where along the line you started believing that he stopped loving you.
It may not be a sentiment you actually hold, but he prides himself on being a good profiler, and more so knowing you better than himself. He knows that’s what you’re thinking, and there’s nothing he can do to fix it.
He speaks under his breath after a couple of minutes, “How long are we going to keep doing this?”
“Doing what—“
“This!” He gestures wildly with his hands. “This back and forth where you’ve convinced yourself you’re able to move past this but clearly can’t!”
You stare at him, “Look, I’m trying.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
The familiar sting burns the backs of your eyes, the first sign of your resolve crumbling. “That’s not fair.”
He sighs and moves closer, your head hanging low and finding the wooden floor patterns deeply interesting. “You won’t even look at me.” he whispers, “Do you still love me?”
You look up at him stunned, “Spencer…I—I do…It’s just…”
He feels his heart breaking in a new way, “That’s not convincing.”
“Can you blame me?”
“No, I guess I can't,” he shakes his head defeatedly. “I don’t know what else I can do, baby.”
“…I want to forgive you.”
Spencer’s eyes blur from tears, “But you can’t.”
“I don’t know how,” you whisper before a sardonic chuckle leaves you, “You know me, memory like an elephant.”
Spencer refrains from telling you that dolphins are actually the species with the longest memory capacity, and that the reason for possessing such a feature is to maintain the social dynamics and relationships that come with survival in the ocean. A dolphin’s memory is what keeps them rooted back to where they belong, being able to remember individuals and behaviors even after being apart for so long. That no matter how far they stray, they’ll always come home.
He settles for a soft agreement, “Yeah, I do know you.”
You make the mistake of meeting his eyes, equally and tragically as broken as yours, puffy and red rimmed.
“I don’t know what to do.” you whisper brokenly.
“I don’t either.”
The silence weighs heavy in the living room. The metronomic tick of the clock becomes louder, the birds and the wind outside whistle louder. You’re cornered, forced to come to face the results. And like a prey backed into the corner you do what the prey do best—You run.
“I have to go.” you grab the keys and put your shoes on.
“What?” he steps closer, “You can’t just leave, we just got home.”
“I can’t be here right now,” your voice cracks, “I just…need some time to think.”l
Spencer’s heart falls straight through the floor. Time to think about what? Is this when the foundation beneath you both finally buckles under the immense pressure it’s been on for weeks, and you’re left to scavenge the ruins?
As much as it pains him to let you walk out the door, he knows that nothing would be accomplished at home and it would only hurt you more to stay.
“Okay.” he whispers.
“Okay.”
“Be safe.” I love you.
You look back, “I will. You too.” I love you too.
The door shuts gentler this time, as if careful not to disturb the few pieces of Spencer still left standing behind the door. It doesn’t matter, they’ve already fallen over. Any resolve he had left is slipping away with every step you take further away, never feeling more defeated in his life than this moment.
He trudges over to the study, hoping he can at least bury himself in work to distract himself from the turmoil of his reality. The desk is strewn across with files and papers, mentally making a list of the tasks he has to do. At the top of his to-do list is the Everett Lynch case, having just closed the case a few days back meaning the paperwork would be due to the brass soon.
Spencer glances over the open file and reviews the details of the final moments of the case, recalling the stark change in Lynch’s MO that still left him puzzled. The victimology and the profile just didn’t add up to what actually happened, why he ended up dying with his mother in the house. That wasn’t supposed to happen, Spencer wasn’t supposed to send five SWAT agent in not knowing their fate only seconds later. How the case simply ended anticlimactically after nearly a year long chase. A dull ache begins to form in his head as he thinks, the bureau is going to have a field day processing this case.
He rubs his forehead with his hand to soothe the pain building up, making a note to get painkillers after he finishes. As he continues to read the file he starts to see his confusion take a basis as the initial profile doesn’t add up at all to what actually happened, in fact for as long as he evaded the FBI he really shouldn’t have just, died.
Spencer freezes. Did he die?
Lynch wouldn’t just commit suicide, that was too easy. He watched the house blow up with him and his mother inside, not even including the agents the explosion took out with it. The pain in his head is too much to bear at this point and he decides that getting Advil can’t wait until he’s done. He stands up and immediately wobbles as he grips the desk for support. Through the blurred vision and spinning room Spencer tries to makes sense of Lynch’s discrepancy.
Everett Lynch wouldn’t commit suicide, because he didn’t.
“He’s still alive.” he realizes gravely. Then it all goes black.
———
You get in your car and drive off to god knows where, just not there. It’s sheer autopilot driving you to the other side of town, which is more than welcomed as the tears threaten to blur your vision coming down in hot trails. You end up pulling into the parking lot of your favorite donut shop, one that you discovered with Spencer a little before you started dating. There was time to kill after being paired up to visit the unsub’s�� dump site and you were so insistent about needing a sweet treat, Spencer thought it was clinical.
“You’re acting like you’ll die if we don’t stop for a, what did you call it? A sweet treat?”
“I will!” you whine, “Don’t you know that girls, specifically me, are mandated to have at least one sweet treat per day?”
He pulls into the parking lot of the donut shop he’d spotted on the way there. “Oh yeah? What happens if you don’t?” he teases.
“You’ll see me as the unsub in the next case.”
Spencer can’t help the laugh that leaves him, loud and earnest. “Alright, c’mon. We already have enough criminals to last us till retirement.”
You and Spencer are definitely not together at this moment in time, but the little old lady owner of the shop really can’t believe otherwise as she watches you both bicker about which flavors you’re getting for the half dozen box. She’s almost certain you’re together as she watches Spencer end up getting all the flavors you wanted despite putting up a fight for others. And she’s fully convinced, with no room for sway, that you are together as Spencer pulls his card out before you can even protest and watches as you miss the look he gives you as you dramatically sigh in content after the first bite.
Spencer would later tell you after a few months together, that the donut shop was the first time he realized he was in love with you. You recall how the same half dozen would appear on your desk every Friday since that first visit, with one chocolate sprinkled donut missing but placed on a napkin on Spencer’s desk. You would joke that he pavloved his way into your heart with donuts, but wouldn’t reveal your true cards that you fell in love with Spencer after a month on the job. The donut shop happened the week after.
“You alright, hon?” the little old lady owner breaks your thoughts.
You look around and realize you’ve walked yourself into the shop. You wipe at your eyes quickly, “I’m okay, Dolores. Can I just get the usual half dozen please?”
She’s not convinced but it seems she knows better than to ask and pry. She gathers the usual six donuts for the box, slipping in an extra one just for good measure, and rings you up at the register.
“Seven right?” you mumble as you file through your bag for the loose ten.
Dolores smiles, “It’s on the house today, hon. Don’t worry.”
You look up at her, knowing she’s only doing that because you showed up with tear streaks on your face, “Oh, no it’s okay you don’t have to do that let me just—“
She pushes the box towards you, “You both tip enough to cover the box anyway, please just take it. Hope you feel better soon, hon.”
Her kind gesture thaws your heart out a little and you give her a small smile. “Thanks, Dolores.”
You walk back to your car, locking the doors once you get in. You don’t move to turn the car on, opting to allow your emotions to overflow again in solitude with the comfort of a bavarian kreme donut. The tears prick your eyes on instinct thinking of the current state of your life, of your relationship.
Spencer was right, have you convinced yourself you’re capable of moving past this? You do still love Spencer, you knew that much. But you are hurt, you are tired, and you just want to stop feeling like you’ll always come in second place even when there’s no one to occupy first place. You’ve waited so long to feel chosen, like someone has waited all their life for someone like you to come around. Meeting Spencer felt like finding the little daisies that grew in between the cracks of concrete, proof that despite your stone hard exterior you were still worthy of being loved.
The sound of your phone ringing jolts you up, almost dropping your donut. With your free hand you look at the caller and press accept.
“Hi, Emily.” you try to make your voice sound even.
“Hey we’ve got a—wait are you okay?”
You clear your throat, “Yeah, totally fine don’t worry. What’s up?”
It’s clear she doesn’t believe you but Emily really doesn’t have time right now, “Listen, Lynch is still alive.”
You almost choke. “What?”
“The casualty report doesn’t include Lynch and they couldn’t find his body anywhere. While they were searching the house they found tunnels. He escaped.”
“Fuck, okay what do you need me to do?”
“There’s a gas station clerk who thinks he saw him and his car, I need you and Matt to go check it out and see what he knows.”
You scramble to put your donut down and wipe your hands on the napkin, “Yeah, of course I’m on my way.”
“Okay, Matt will meet you there,” she pauses, “I…Is Spencer with you?”
Your heart clenched again, “No, he’s not. He’s at the apartment.”
Emily hums, “He didn’t pick up when I called, it’s okay I’ll send JJ and Penelope to go get him. Reconvene at the bureau in a couple hours?”
“Sounds good.” you hang up and immediately start driving over to the gas station. Something doesn’t feel right, you can feel it in your gut. You quickly check Spencer’s location just to be safe, and relax when you see he’s still at home. He’s probably just taking a nap.
What Emily decides you can’t ever know about is the call she gets twenty minutes later from a hysterically crying Penelope, who in between sobs tells her that they’re on the way to George Washington Hospital. That when JJ and Penelope opened the door to Spencer’s apartment he was passed out on the floor, blood dripping from his nose. How when JJ went to start CPR he entered a seizure and coded in the ambulance.
No, you can’t know this, because Emily knows that the call alone that she has to give you is going to shatter your broken pieces even further.
—
You pull out your phone to call Emily and see an incoming call from her, “Hey, I was just about to call you. The guy said he drove a red ford pickup, we were able to get the license plate from the security cameras but it came up as a stolen plate—“
Emily says your name in a tone you’ve never heard her use. It makes you stop in your tracks, an icy chill shooting down your spine, “What?”
“Something’s happened.”
You step outside of the gas station shop holding your breath, “What do you mean?”
Emily pinches the bridge of her nose, “It’s about Spencer, he’s…”
She pauses for too long. The panic rises fast. “Emily.”
“They found him passed out on the floor of his apartment. Penelope called 911 and they’re on the way to the hospital right now.”
No.
No, no, no.
The color drains from your face as fast as your heart plunges to the ground. “Wh—what?”
She’s lying, she has to be right? You just saw Spencer literally a few hours ago and he was fine. No signs of distress or anything, she has to be lying. She has to be lying.
“The EMT thinks he has a brain bleed, it um…caused him to have a seizure when JJ and Penelope found him.”
The nausea rises before you can anticipate it, scanning your surroundings for a trash can and immediately hurling up the contents of your stomach. Wiping your mouth with your sleeve you put the phone back to your ear, “Which hospital?”
“George Washington Memorial, they should already be there by now.”
“Okay, I’m on the way.” you sniffle.
Emily doesn’t know what other encouraging words she can provide you, she doesn’t think any words exist to comfort herself even let alone you. “Keep me updated please.”
The call ends and you have to steady yourself on the nearby wall, head reeling with mountainous emotions and unable to make sense of any of them.
You look around through blurred eyes for Matt calling out to him, “Matt, Matt give me the keys I need to go to the hospital.” you hold a shaky hand out.
He looks at you confused and concerned, “What? Are you okay, why do you need to go—“
“Sp—“ you stutter, unable to even speak the words into existence, “Spencer’s in the hospital.”
Matt’s face pales, “I’ll drive you, come on.”
—
“They said it’s a brain bleed.” you mumble after a few minutes of silence in the car.
“A brain bleed? How could that have…” he trails off in realization.
“What?” you ask nervously.
He grips the steering wheel harder, “The bomb, at the Lynch house.”
Fuck. The EMTs who checked him out that day said he only had a mild concussion, nothing else to be concerned about. A few cuts and scratches but nothing that wouldn’t heal. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen to him.
You sniffle and hastily wipe at your face again, your skin growing red with irritation with every contact.
Matt looks at you with a look he wouldn’t call pity, but certainly close, “It’s going to be okay, he’ll pull through. He always does.”
Your eyes squeeze shut as if it could prevent the fresh wave of tears from falling, “You don’t know that.”
He sighs deeply and turns into the hospital parking lot, stopping in front of the entrance, “Go in, I’ll park the car.”
You open the car door and rush inside the lobby, finding the receptionist immediately. She looks up at you and her face softens in empathy, “Who are you here for?”
“Um, Spencer Reid. He should have just gotten in.” you strain.
The receptionist clacks a few buttons on her keyboard before speaking again, “It looks like he’s in the ICU, are you blood related?”
“Are we…what?” you ask confused.
“Well honey, because he’s in the ICU we can only let in blood related family or spouses to stay with them.”
You outwardly deflate, “Oh…I—“
“She’s his fiancée!”
You look to the source of the new voice and are met with Penelope, donning matching red rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. Her eyes look at you in silent communication and you turn back to the desk, “Y—Yeah, I’m his fiancée.”
If the receptionist isn’t convinced she doesn’t show it, willing to turn a blind eye in pure understanding of the situation. “Room 204.”
“Thank you.” You duck down the hall scanning the numbers before coming up on 204, the door cracked open slightly. Your hand hovers over the handle in hesitation, scared of what you’ll find on the other side. Penelope comes up behind you and rests her hand on yours and helps you open the door.
The sight hits you like a truck. All the wires hooked up to his limbs pumping IV fluids and the heart monitor beeping steadily. He’s paler than you’ve ever seen him. His skin is clammy, the hair sticking to his forehead. You can see that from across the room and all you can think about is how uncomfortable he must feel from the sweat coating him. You used to tease him once upon a time when he’d sometimes take multiple showers a day because of how much it bothered him.
“Another shower? Spence, our water bill is about to be crazy.”
He laughs and waves you off, “Don’t worry about that, I can charge the water bill as bureau compensation.”
“Okay, one that sounds illegal. Two, the more time you spend in the shower, the less time you spend with me.” you moan with fake petulance.
You yelp as he suddenly sneaks up behind you, caging you to his chest with his arms, “So join me.”
“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of getting clean?” you giggle, leaning your head back into the crevice of his neck.
He presses a soft kiss to your temple, “You do know what showers are for, right?”
You nod, “To get clean! It would get even dirtier before it got cleaner.”
“I think that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
The smile on your face grows the widest it can before you break off into a sprint down the hallway towards the bathroom, Spencer trailing behind with your laughs mixing in the light air.
You don’t know why you’re thinking so deeply about the state of his perspiration, maybe a convoluted defense mechanism your brain conjured up so you don’t have to come to terms with Spencer lying near comatose a few feet away.
Your feet hesitantly carry you closer to the bed, feeling somewhat calmed by the slow rise and fall of his chest. You lean down and look him over, as if you could see the damaged inflicted on him even though it’s nestled deep in his brain. Spencer always said his brain would lead to his demise, and you hope all those times you played it off as a joke that it cemented itself as one, a joke. That you would be able to see his hazel eyes open again and they’d fill you with reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere, that all he needed in this world was you, and that he loved you.
You will and wish and hope to have his eyes open. You try not to think about if you’ll ever get to see them again.
A choked sob escapes your throat before you can help it, your hand coming over your mouth to muffle the impact. Spencer is hurt. Spencer is fighting for his life, and you were fighting him not even a few hours ago.
“Oh, honey,” Penelope reaches for your shoulders and pulls you into a hug, “He’s gonna be okay, the doctors said the surgery went well. Just waiting for him to wake up now.”
You cry even harder and Penelope tightens her grip on you, determined to not let you fall further down the slope.
“W—We got into a fight,” you sniffle, “before I left. It was bad, Penny. He was so mad, and then I was so mad. And then I just left.”
“You didn’t know this would happen, honey. None of us did.”
“I didn’t even say I love you. Th—The last conversation we had was a fucking fight a—and now…” you cry, “He can’t die, Pen. He can’t die I didn’t even get to tell him—“
Penelope grabs your face with both of her hands, “Hey. No, we’re not doing that. We are not spiraling, not when there’s no reason to. Okay?”
Whatever response you had falls dead on your lips when you take another look at Spencer’s motionless body on the bed. The calmness on his face is a stark difference from the Spencer you saw only a few hours ago.
She was right, there’s nothing you can do right now but wait. You’d just have to trust that Spencer would pull through.
You almost chuckle dryly through the tears. Trust and Spencer? The irony of it all laughs in your face.
—
Spencer’s eyes blink open and adjust to the bright light blinding him. He takes in his surroundings and realizes he’s standing in the middle of the bullpen. That’s weird, he thinks, I thought I was in the study.
“Reid, you sure you don’t want to join me and Elle in Jamaica?” Derek sings, “My guy can swing you a great deal.”
Derek? Elle?
He snaps his head in the direction of the voice, seeing Derek not even looking in his direction but still looking towards Spencer. Just, a different and much younger Spencer.
“Have a great two weeks off everyone, you all deserve it. Don’t call me at my cabin.” Gideon rushes out as he beelines to the door right past Spencer. “Seriously, don’t call me.”
Gideon? But Gideon…died. Where is he?
The scene changes with a snap and suddenly he’s back in his apartment, his old apartment. The one he lived in before he moved in with you. He is definitely in a dream, though with the vividity and theme of important people in his past he’s not entirely sure he’s only sleeping. A head of blonde hair on his couch catches his eye. He slowly walks around and his breath hitches at who he sees.
“Maeve?”
She smiles softly, “Hi Spencer.”
He slowly walks around the couch and kneels in front of her. The tears prick his eyes before he can help it, “I didn’t think I’d get to see you again. I—I’m so sorry for—“
Maeve holds a hand up, “What happened to me wasn’t your fault, I promise. You did what you could. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“It’s not?”
She shakes her head. “You’re dying, Spence.”
His face falls, “I am?”
“Collateral from the explosion, you have a brain bleed.”
It takes a few minutes for him to comprehend what she said, and he can feel his head spinning fast in his head. He can’t actually be dying right? The explosion happened days ago and yet now is when his brain decides to tap out, that can’t be right.
It simply cannot be right because that’s when he remembers you and the last conversation he had with you, and he has to clutch his heart at the prospect of his fate.
He won’t know if you’ll ever forgive him, if you’ll ever learn to trust him again, if you even still love him. He won’t know anything if he dies. He cannot die.
“M—Maeve, I can’t be here I—“
She places her hand atop of his own and he feels her. He can feel her hand on his, like she’s real and here. It’s alarming, and warm. “I know, it’s okay. C’mon, let’s go for a walk.”
Maeve gestures for him to follow her and before his eyes the scene changes again to a nearby park, one that looks a little too familiar to him.
She starts walking through the park, “We’re all okay up here you know? I get to read a lot more now, there’s so much time to read and postulate. Sometimes I get lucky and I can meet the authors. I got to meet Kant and Dostoevsky a while ago, very interesting people. Gideon plays with this nice little octopus friend. I know he’s having the best time.” she laughs, “But you, Spencer Reid, are not okay down there.”
He looks up at her and swallows, “I know.”
She turns onto the fork in the trail, “What’s holding you back?”
“I don’t know,” he sighs.
“I think you do know.”
A few silent minutes pass. “I…I’m scared to let myself be happy again,” he admits.
Maeve looks at him with a saddened smile, “And why’s that?”
Because everything he loves leaves him. Because when he laughs just a little too hard, he’s already scanning the surroundings waiting for the other shoe to fall. Because when Spencer feels he’s trekked up the mountain with long and winding breaths, something always seems to be waiting at the top ready to knock him down.
“Don’t think I deserve it, to be honest.” he admits, “I keep…messing up everytime.”
Maeve stops walking, “You love so deeply, Spencer. It’s a blessing and a curse.”
“Emphasis on the curse.” he deprecates.
“It’s only a curse because you don’t let yourself feel wholly. I know given everything that’s happened it’s hard but,” she pauses, “You’re not a clipped bird, Spence. You just…lost a few feathers. Nothing you can’t get back.”
It’s easier said than done when it feels like his mere existence causes you pain as of late.
“I feel like I have to hold parts of me back so I can protect her…from myself.”
Maeve turns to him, “She deserves all of you, Spence. It is a privilege to be loved by you, but it’s a greater privilege to be loved. And you deserve to feel loved.”
“What if I ruin it?” More accurately, what if he’s already ruined it, is what he means.
“You are not destined for sorrow and misery, despite what your life has made you think. She loves you. She would not have stayed this long if she didn’t. But there is one thing I think she could use from you.”
Spencer looks at her expectantly waiting for her to continue.
“She wants to feel chosen, Spencer. And I know you think you choose her everyday just by loving her. But the reality is, you can’t fully choose her without choosing yourself first. That means allowing yourself to be happy.”
A few stray tears streak down his face and he haphazardly wipes them away. For the entirety of Spencer’s life his purpose was to be of service to others. With his intelligence, his kindness, his courage. His needs always came second because the few times he thought to put himself first, disaster struck.
When he met you this notion only reinforced itself, wanting to ensure he could make you as happy as he could. You became his priority and he didn’t mind that at all. It was easy being with you, you made life feel easy. So when Spencer started to let his guard down piece by piece, allowing himself the little bits of your happiness to seep into his being, he wasn’t thinking about the abyss that had always loomed over him his whole life.
He couldn’t, not when you managed to infiltrate his entire existence by wrapping and tethering yourself to him with strings of gold. How could he? You made things so easy.
But then prison happened. Then Cat, again. Then Maeve, again. Three strikes. It should have been game over by now. He broke your trust, betrayed your love and he wasn’t sure if you would even stay long enough to see the damage unfold. But you did, and he still can’t really figure out why.
So here he is in limbo? Purgatory? Some figment of his mind in the wake of near death that is giving him the opportunity to make amends. Not with Maeve or Gideon or you or any other grudge he has yet to settle in his life. No, he has the chance to make amends with himself and forgive himself for standing in the way of what he really deserves.
A faint beeping in the distance reels him back to the present moment, Maeve’s face coming into focus again. The dull ache in his eyes coming forward again with how many tears are falling.
“Love is our true destiny, we do not find the meaning of it alone, we find it with another.”
He smiles with a watery chuckle, “Thomas Merton.”
“Spencer, I promise you, you will be happy again. And forever. Just keep the door open when it comes knocking.”
The beeping starts to get louder, like it’s approaching him fast. A warm glow begins to build around him, then light. He looks around the park again and sees the trees and benches begin to blur. He looks at Maeve as she stands with a fond smile, her figure slowly fading as well.
“Take care, Spencer.” and with a blink Maeve is gone.
In the silence he is left in, he looks to the epitaph of Jason Gideon in front of him and back to the spot where Maeve was standing, whispering a soft, “You too.” before closing his eyes and succumbing to the beeping.
—
It’s been 4 hours since you’ve been sat next to his bed. You’d be a lot more concerned than you were, which is already a lot, if it wasn’t for his heartbeat monitor beeping steadily throughout the hours. A sign of life, as morbid as it sounds, but it’s hard to be rational given the circumstances.
It had taken all of 3.5 hours for you to braven up and hold his hand in comfort. Hour one you simply stared at his hand, as if it would regain mobility and reach out for you. Hour two you were able to place your hand on the bed, not anywhere near his obviously. But enough to feel close, satiated. By hour three you had your fingers mere millimeters from his own, feeling like a magnetic force of the same poles was repelling you.
The 3.5 hour mark is when the exhaustion of the day caught up to you, and finally allowed yourself to relax in his hand.
At hour 4.5 is when you felt the twitch.
You look up and whisper, “Spencer?”
He slowly opens his eyes, revealing his hazel brown irises with gold flecks on the insides that meet yours sitting right beside him. You can see the recognition begin to flood his face, but is stopped momentarily when he starts to panic realizing the breathing tube is still in his throat. You hit the call button besides his bed and watch the doctors rush in to help stabilize him back down.
It’s another two hours of testing and scans before the three of you are left alone again, with the nurse promising to check on him in a few hours.
You’re stiff next to him, unsure what to do now that he’s awake and perceiving you again. With a small voice you speak, “They said they found you in the study.”
Spencer racks his brain for memories of before his fall, only able to remember bits and pieces. He remembers fighting with you and when you left. He remembers walking to the study. And he remembers reading…”Lynch! Did you get him? He’s still alive, you have to call Emily—“
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you shush. “We know he’s still alive, they’ve almost got him right now. It’s okay.”
That seems to make him visibly relax knowing the immediate stressor was almost resolved. Now there’s just the matter of the other elephant in the room.
“You’re here.”
Your eyes soften as your brows raise in shock, “Of course I’m here, Spence.”
He stares at you and takes in your features—your puffy cheeks and red eyes, the skin around your nails picked to death, your lip nearly split in half from the bites and bleeding. He needs to apologize again, he knows that. But the second he opens his mouth you cut him off.
“Penny, can you give us a minute please?”
She smiles and stands, “Sure hon, I’ll be right outside.”
Once she leaves you turn back to Spencer, “We don’t have to talk about all of that anymore, it’s okay. You’re hurt and that’s more important right now.”
He should have expected that you would do this, selflessly push your discomfort and feelings down because someone you cared about was hurting. It was one of the few things he didn’t like that you did, and he’s not going to let it go again.
“Angel, you can’t forgive me just because you thought I was going to die.” he says sadly.
You’re taken aback. “I—I know.”
He swallows, “I really want you to.”
Your eyes blur again, “I know.” Another pause. “I’m trying really hard.”
A gentle squeeze, “I know.”
“I…I still love you, Spence. I don’t think that will ever change, but I’m nervous if one day it won’t be enough…that I won’t be enough.” you trail off.
Again, he shouldn’t be surprised that’s what you’re thinking. He hasn’t done a very good job at convincing you yet. It still hurts knowing that you feel that way.
“Do you know what I thought about everyday when I was in Millburn?”
You shake your head as he continues, “I thought about how when you eat cupcakes you tear the bottom half and stick it on top to make a cupcake sandwich. When we’re watching Doctor Who and you’re singing along to the theme song with only syllables. How you let me eat the olives on your plate and I give you the pickles on mine.”
“Why would you be thinking about that?” you ask confused.
“Because I don’t think I would have survived if I didn’t.”
The lump forms in your throat, “But…you took me off the visiting list after the first time I came to see you.”
“I couldn’t let you keep seeing me like that, honey.” he strains, “The way they were looking at you, what they did to me. I had to protect you.”a
You swallow hard, a few tears falling down your face, “Th—That’s not fair, Spence. I understand why you did it, but then when all the other shit happened… I don’t know what I was supposed to believe. I couldn’t stop wondering if I ever was enough for you.”
Spencer can feel his heart splintering.
“You will always be enough, because it is always you. God, sweetheart it’s not even a question of how much, it just is. I see you in everything I do—you’re the tangled headphones we use to listen to music flying back on the jet. You’re the annotations I make when I read something that reminds me of you, or if I think you’d enjoy it. You’re the smell of bavarian kreme donuts from Dolores’ even though the chocolate sprinkle ones are far superior.”
His heart blooms hearing a soft giggle from you, an earnest smile forming on your face.
“You are entangled in the things that make me happy, and you make them too good to be true. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I meant it when I said I would spend all of time making it up to you. You are my Catalina comet, and I love you.”
You can’t help the sob that leaves you as you remember the memory.
“I’m cold Spence, are you sure we’ll be able to see it?”
He tugs you closer under his arm as he keeps trekking to find the perfect spot, a chaste kiss to your temple, “I promise it’ll be worth it. Come on, I think it's a good spot over there.”
You help Spencer set out the blanket on the ground and use the extra one to wrap around you both, huddling closer together as you wait for the celestial body to make its appearance.
“The first time they did the calculations they used old observational data that led to some incorrect results, and they thought the orbit was only four years.”
“They just got it wrong?”
“Not everyone gets it right on the first try, sweet girl.” he says softly, “But then they did the math again, made sure all the factors and numbers were correct. And you know what they found?”
You ponder for a moment, “Did they realize the orbit was longer?”
Spencer beams down at you, “My smart girl. That’s exactly what they found. So when they did the calculations again, they found out that the Catalina comet is even more special than anyone thought. It’s even more of a rare sighting to get to see it, once in a lifetime really.”
You hang onto his every word, captivated by the story, “Do people wish on comets?” you ask doe eyed.
His hand smooths your hair back, “They do, some say the rarer comets have extra special energy to aid their wishes.”
You look at him skeptically, “Do you really believe that?”
“Do you?”
You look back to the sky, “I think I do.”
Spencer doesn’t look away from you, “Then I do too.”
You giggle and lightly shove him, “Cheesy…” He smiles fondly and pulls you closer into his chest, his arms warming you up before you gasp, “Look!”
There across the night sky streaks the Catalina Comet in all her glory, Spencer watches the comet track through Ursa Major and before he can start telling you about why it goes that path, you’ve already clamped your eyes shut and squeezed his hand, silently gesturing for him to do the same.
He complies, obviously. You open your eyes again after making your wish, “Did you make yours?”
Spencer opens his eyes and admiringly looks at you, “Yeah, I did angel.”
He didn’t need to make any wishes.
“Spence…” you whine through sobs.
His hand comes up shakily to wipe the tears from your cheeks, “Didn’t mean to make you cry, honey.”
“Well, what did you expect by bringing that story up?” you laugh with fake anger.
“To be fair, you were already crying.” he chuckles.
You scoff, “Mean.” You look at his eyes, and really look at him and see nothing but love and adoration staring back at you. You take a deep breath, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I believe you.” his eyes soften, you continue, “I love you.”
He brings your hand up to his lips and gently kisses it, “I love you so much. I’m sorry again, sweet girl.”
You lean up to him on the bed and press a soft kiss to his lips, and Spencer can feel his wounds start to hurt less and less. “You should get some rest, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You make yourself as comfy as you can whilst sat on the armchair, bent over to be able to rest your head next to Spencer. It feels okay for a bit, and then he tangles his hand in your hair gently moving back and forth and suddenly you’re satisfied with never moving ever again.
The quiet air between you both is enough to lull you to sleep, before a thought runs through your mind.
“You know something funny,” you mumble, “Pen told the receptionist I was your fiancée so they’d let me see you.”
And poor Spencer, in between his sleepy haze and the dull ache of pain from his injuries, only hears the word fiancée.
“You found the ring?” he sighs, “I thought I hid it well.”
You still under his hand.
“…There’s a ring?”
His eyes shoot open, realizing he misheard you and tries to play it off, “So…Penelope lied to staff. Tsk Tsk.”
“There’s a ring.” you say pointedly, the corners of your lips upturned to reach a smile.
Spencer thinks he can try and get out of this but decides it’s better to come clean, “Fine, okay. Of course there’s a ring.”
“Of course?”
The surprise on your face honestly stuns Spencer, and he feels a little saddened that you were in disbelief of the possibility.
“Yeah baby, of course.”
Your bottom lip wobbles with a creeping suspicion of his answer, “How long have you had it?”
“Got it after our six month.”
You shakily exhale. There is no ounce of doubt in your body that he loves you, and that you really are all he needs. “ ‘M sorry I ruined the surprise.”
He grins, “It’s okay, you won’t know when I’m going to do it. It’ll knock you off your feet, I promise.”
You definitely aren’t expecting it during a Planetarium date months later where he got the museum people to show the Catalina Comet passing over you both as he got down on one knee. You are expecting the endless stream of tears from the both of you, the aching cheeks from smiling too much, and the multiple missed attempts at sliding the ring on from how much you both were shaking.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fanfiction#the prophecy
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okay so, i hope this isnt a bother but i wanted to get to the root of this so: I contacted Haihe's customer support.
first image: the wechat contacts of said customer support which i got by scanning the company's website so it's not like i got some third hand information off a shady website.
second image: my chat with the customer support, which might i note is so patient with such a non-purchase, non-product issue question?
customer support: hi, how can i help you?
me: im looking for the packaging designs that Haihe had used from past till present. specifically ones used in the 90s and shaped like a pyramid.
customer support: im sorry. i don't have [the information.] we're unable to provide it to you.
me: alright, thank you. sorry for the trouble.
customer support: you're welcome.
me (couldn't bear just giving up and going home): then, may i know when your company had changed their packaging?
customer support: I'm not sure about that.
me: can i at least confirm that there was a past design shaped like a triangle? like the photos attached below?
customer support: [i] have never seen triangle [packaging].
customer support: it's bull horn packaging.
me: could you show me a picture of that so i can be sure how it looks like?
customer support: you can look it up online
me (ive lost braincells and wasnt thinking at the time just googled it and...): the search results are all croissants...
customer support: the official website.
(it took me Too Many minutes to figure out that they meant their company's official website and not like Baidu or sth and lo and behold theres image 3 right on their front page... half blocked by the fact that im on my phone and it loaded weird. so i used a picture i downloaded earlier)
me: is this the bull horn packaging?
customer support: mhm mhm
me: alright, thank you so so much! else i wouldn't be able to sleep with this on my mind.
THUS, here this sidequest ends for me. Of course, there's still the possibility that the customer support has no idea what they're talking about or that the pyramid packaging was a limited run in a specific area and that specific timeframe is niche lore even for employees etc etc. So... perhaps unless someone from Tianjin had childhood photoes of them drinking from a pyramid Haihe milk packet, the case shall remain... unsolved?
(also, i just wanted to say that when i first saw the taobao listing, i immediately thought "oh yeah, thats a triangle for sure, it's wide on the bottom and narrow on top." despite having already seen the korean milk photo, which in hindsight, what *was* my brain on...)
but anyways, thank you for the fun sidequest! now i know what ill be doing if i ever hang by Tianjin: try all 9 flavours of those milk + whatever other crazy new flavours they came up with.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f36aa686f345d390d9c6c7d8567f9b85/7ab45c39eae87df6-58/s1280x1920/0c5bba1cc51a62f1b22f9c570b423a27b9939543.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/57c6ef1ddb7a34ffda33cd1970cb83ce/7ab45c39eae87df6-fa/s2048x3072/becdc842d43349893fa0cd07b208d981c8ca7af7.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bb9d42719021920558ef4bbb0c718f96/7ab45c39eae87df6-d6/s540x810/5564a48e7c2bf6307cfe5497c391488bbf0a34b6.jpg)
okay google images is giving me nothing but cartons and novelty products,
chinese tumblr
pls tell me i haven't made up this memory
do you remember getting milk in like, these triangular bags? they were shaped kinda like pyramids, you could put straws in em?????
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Change My Mind [7]
Pairing: BTS x reader
SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.
Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.
Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor
Words: 8.6k
IM BACK
laptop problem is solved. Shit was shady though (i literally have to pay the guy money for his 'efforts' in lying to get my laptop fixed) but its worth the money so idc. Rushed to finish this so this shit ain't beta read nor proofed, that's for Vuinterro of tomorrow to stress about. Will still take long to post chapters, might take a month per chapter. It really depends since I'm using this fic to fix my horrid writer's block and brain fog but I plan to see this fic through so dwww
also, what do you all think about having purely the boys' pov at some point in the story? Been thinking about having the boys' perspectives once the courting starts but that's prolly just me
lastly, enjoy this chapter. I hope my tired mind was able to write my vision down clearly, I'll fix the mistakes and add more details later on. Pls comment or like, I'm in desperate need for validation lmao
<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>
______
Jung Hoseok is not scared.
Sure he screams bloody mary at the sight of bugs a thousand times smaller than him, and yeah he’s easily startled but he’s not scared.
Especially not by a piece of paper, that would be ridiculous!
The reason he went to his noona’s house instead of heading straight to the dorms after the news broke out that his Seokjin hyung is tethered to you is because she needed his help on something, and being the dutiful brother he is, swooped in to save the day!
“At least wash the dishes for me if you’re going to hide in my house because you’re being a scaredy cat,” Jiwoo says from the kitchen archway, leaning on the wall with her arms crossed. “I still don’t get why you’re so scared of a piece of paper. The most it’ll do is give you a small cut.”
“Well, that ‘small cut’ still stings a lot!” He argued back, pulling the throw pillow closer to his chest. “And I’m not scared!”
It was irrational how he’s getting cold feet at the thought of the blood result. It’s not like he was hoping to see anything other than ‘negative’ there.
Jimin would argue that he’s being pessimistic for thinking so but it was the obvious answer if you looked at his family tree.
From his grandparents’ parents and down to him and his sister, there hasn’t been a single tethered from his bloodline like most of the world’s population. Unlike his Jin hyung who at least had one distant cousin who got a soulmate or his Yoongi hyung who at least had his grandparents as soulmates, his family was barren from such a blessing. His grandpa had joked once, saying their family was cursed for never birthing a single tethered. Ever.
Not even with the people they ended up had ever resulted in having a tethered no matter their family background..
For him to turn out to be a part of your nexus would be a miracle of the highest degree that would make the tales in the bible pale in comparison.
Daring to have himself tested is stupid, he already knew the result and submitting his DNA meant he was hoping.
But hope is nothing in the face of facts, he should be wishing instead; prayer sticks, shaman blessings and all that.
Hoseok knew he was being greedy, wishing to be a part of a nexus relationship as crowded as yours. Growing up with the rest, he knew how much of a handful Jungkook can be on his own, matched with Jimin who now possesses bottomless energy, he has no business trying to squeeze himself in places he can’t fit in.
Sometimes he thinks he’s being influenced by the fact that he’s being singled out in the group. Now that their oldest has joined the harem, being the odd one out oddly felt ostracizing, being subjected to Taehyung and Jungkook discussing courting gifts, and Yoongi talking to Namjoon about their soulmarks shouldn’t have made him feel bitter but it did.
“You saying that while pouting on my couch, miles away from your friends who now have your exam result, is not helping your case.”
“If you don’t have anything nice to say to your brother, you shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I’m saying a lot because I care about you. This,” She says, motioning to him to which he replied with an offended look. “Isn’t healthy. The more you’re hiding away, the more this will haunt you.”
“You’re just saying that because you’ll have hyung over soon.”
“That I am, so just get your shit together and go! I planned a night for us but I had to move it because of you.” She shot back but he knew it had no actual snark behind it. She had welcomed him with warm arms after all.
Hoseok had seen how his friends slowly fell in love with you while he continued to look at you and see a best friend. Seeing how everyone seems to have been captured by you, he got curious.
For a long time since debut, Hoseok had stopped perfecting his craft and pursuing his aspirations to pay attention to someone else. It was uncommon but he too once wished for a soulmate until practice, video shoots, and music production began to eat up most of his time and he forgot about his initial wish.
Seeing his brothers be taken by their best friend, his crush, he couldn't help but be curious how it came to be.
Was it because you were closer to their age and, for the lack of better terms, accessible to them that they had begun to seek the comfort of a lover in you?
“Do you think because she's also been busy with us that she began to seek comfort with us too?”
“Tae, just eat your breakfast.”
It was such a random thought from Tae one random morning, and Hoseok would’ve brushed it off like the other time he gets struck with an idea but this one stuck to him like an annoying ex. The idea loomed over him the whole journey to the company and back home. He grew hypersensitive to how he approached you since that morning and he began to notice the miniscule details he would’ve shrugged off any other day.
From how your touches would linger on their skin, how you’d comfortably lean in closer to them without batting a single eye at how unusual it may seem to others, he took note of them all. It was how he knew their leader’s feelings for you, even if the man himself hadn't noticed it yet.
Hoseok found his proof in Namjoon’s eyes that restlessly roamed the room until he’d find you in the bustle of the staff. It was also in the way he’d always reach out for you, may it be when you’d turn to leave and he’d catch a drama-esque scene where instead of calling out for your name, Namjoon would reach for your hand and speak to you with that soft look in his eyes and the genuineness in the dip of his dimples when he smiles.
Eyes never lie nor do the dimples on his cheeks whenever he grins, even when the beholder hasn’t realized it yet.
It was then did he realise how odd your relationship is with them and decided to take a step back to draw a line.
Friends, especially ones whose gender are opposite of each other, aren’t supposed to be as touchy and comfortable the way you and his brothers are. You didn’t say anything when you noticed and wordlessly respected his decision. He was firm on drawing the line, his sister had questioned his actions but he’s determined, nothing is going to stop him from going back on his decision.
At least until he got sick.
Without any of his brothers available to tend to him as they had to leave for Japan the very day he fainted—he had to pass out while talking to the migration officer, so embarrassing!—, he thought he'd power through it alone for a few days. But then you volunteered to stay back to take care of him and everyone just let it happen as if it's normal.
Which is not.
He'd understand taking care of him during the job but to take a leave of absence just to watch over him because his family is unavailable due to the rough weather at the time, in a house far too big for the two of you while the rest flies to another country. It wasn’t appropriate, not normal at all.
In the haze of his high fever, he had asked you how you were acting as if the situation was normal and in response, you had hit him lightly with the drenched towel you used to wipe his face.
“Don't be ridiculous. You're one of my best friends even if you’ve been acting up these past few days. I'm not about to leave while you're sick and alone in the dorms. If your family could come to Seoul, I would've left with the others so don't overthink. This is just me being a good friend.”
Cooking for him, wiping his face and making sure he's comfortable in bed—It felt far too domestic to be friendly.
Familial doesn't sound like the right word either. There’s nothing familial about the butterflies in his stomach when you had kissed his forehead good night that day as a joke when Jimin had called you or when you had woken him up the next day.
Oh how beautiful you were that morning.
He knew at that moment that the goddess of beauty had favorites when she made your skin glow softly under the radiance of the rising morning sun like a halo and had your messy bed hair look frustratingly good on you.
You were borrowing their clothes that day since you had already got your items shipped with the other staff, Taehyung’s white striped polo hung off on you like a dress and Jimin’s red basketball shorts gobbled up your form yet even with the fabrics dwarfing and hiding the curves of your body, he still thinks you’re the cutest sight he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.
You were especially cute in their clothes though.
In his feverish haze, all he could think about was how pleasant it’d be if you were to wake him up every morning like an angel welcoming him to heaven. What he’d give to the world to have you be the first thing he’d see in the morning.
Then you spoke and greeted him in that roughened sweet voice and Hoseok was gone.
Realization immediately had him freezing, tensing up as you let yourself fall across his blanket covered feet to groan about how sleepy you still are after putting down his medicine and breakfast on the bedside table. He hadn’t been able to reply, busy with tampering down the racing heartbeat echoing in his ears.
Looking back a year later, him falling in love with you wasn’t as odd as he thinks it is, uncommon but still cliche.
Jiwoo taking the space next to him made him jump, breaking off his line of thought.
“Seriously, just get it over with. The faster you see the result, the faster you can decide whether to move on or not.”
It was the most logical step to take but it felt…wrong somehow.
He couldn’t imagine a day where he’d look at you and never feel the tickles of butterflies filling his stomach or the warmth your fingers would leave behind after carding through his hair or tilting his chin up to have a better look on his makeup. It felt like an offense to the fates.
Although loving you has its downsides, with your obliviousness to their feelings whether intentional or unintentional often makes him want to pull his hair out, he’d never regret feeling the joy of admiring someone when he’s with you. Hoseok has never felt more motivated to produce music with lyrics far too romantic to come from someone who has never had a lover since pre-debut. Not that you’d see that of course.
He couldn’t remember how many times he found himself wanting to grab you by the shoulders to shake you whenever you teased him about his creations, and hoped it would be enough to let you know that all those cheesy lyrics he had uncharacteristically puked out was all because of you.
“Don’t you go souring your face like that, you know that I’m right.”
“And just because you sound right, doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen to you.”
Jiwoo rolled her eyes and turned to her kitchen, probably to take a pan and hit him upside the head with it or to save herself from seeing the pathetic image of her brother being a fool for love.
He knew not to hope, he repeated those words to himself but at the same time, he could sense the small, miniscule bead of it hidden within his heart, pushed down to the bottom of the barrel and awaiting its eventual death once he set his eyes on the negative results on his test.
In all of the times he got scared, Jung Hoseok has never been so terrified at the thought of being left out of your nexus. It would be the highest form of torture, a cruelest fate the heavens have dealt.
How would he function seeing all his brothers do all the things he had imagined himself doing? Due to how sensitive the bond is, he wouldn’t be able to get a feel of your touch for a year, maybe two if the gods deemed it funnier.
What is he going to do then? Die from envy?
He wouldn’t be able to survive, it would ruin him completely. That parasitic feeling would eat him up from the inside and eventually spill out of him, it would damage the relationship he and his brothers had established through hardships and time. Something he too treasured as he does you.
A chime rang out and his eyes immediately fell to his phone on the coffee table. From the familiar set of emojis on the name of the messenger, he reached over to answer to his Yoongi hyung.
[18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i know what you’re doing [18:23] Me: i don’t know what i’m even doing right now hyung [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: you may fool the others but im not like them [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: jiwoo had already asked me last week about this problem ur supposed to be fixing so dont even try to lie to me [18:23] Me: im just worried [18:23] Me: you know about my family history right? We never had a single tethered so idk what even possessed me to take that test with jin hyung when we already know the answer [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i think you’ll be surprised [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: not that i’m spoiling or anything, im just saying that if jesus could turn water into rum, then you can be the first tethered in your family [18:23] Me: well im not a son of god am i? [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: don’t get sassy with me [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: im just saying, miracles can happen [18:23] Me: i think i already lucked out with our jobs hyung [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i doubt that [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home tomorrow [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: the maknaes are planning a party for you [18:23] Me: LOLOLOL WHAT [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: they even bought two different cakes [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: wont spoil what they say [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home if you want know [18:23] Me: i will
Despite telling his hyung that he’ll return, he wasn’t sure if he’s going through that decision just yet.
“Did you at least bring a change of clothes with you?” Jiwoo chimes, reappearing from the kitchen archway.
“What if I don’t have any?”
“Then you’re sleeping in those.”
Despite her words, she eventually pulls out a pair of pajamas from her boyfriend’s temporary side of the closet for him to borrow. Sleeping that night was far from being an easy task when he could read and see from the images the maknaes are spamming the group chat, photos ranging from decent captures of moments to a blurry mess where the one holding the phone is running away from a figure that distinctly look like Jimin.
He tried to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his head and the way his stomach seems to shrunk and eat itself up with every picture and video he sees. He truly does try to ignore the voice judging him for daring to squeeze himself in an already perfect dynamic.
Eventually though, the voices quieten and he falls asleep.
______
Jimin is falling in love with his soulmate.
It shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone but he's actually falling in love with his soulmate. Tingling butterflies in his stomach, skipping heartbeat, tickling warmth in the chest, the whole mile.
What started off as playful admiration where he’d tease you and lightly tug or pull your hair up while you were putting setting powder on his under eye, quickly developed into a giggly high school romance kind of love where he’d avoid your eyes just so his stomach would stop feeling weird and feel the heat of your touch linger from where you last held him.
Now that he’s thinking about it, the whole thing sounds silly because of course he’s going to fall in love with his soulmate.
The morning started as most mornings have begun for him since Jungkook’s birthday, with your face, bare and naked of any products, and the warmth of your body seeping through the fabric of his clothes. More often than not, he’d find himself coming to consciousness feeling your body weight pressing on his arms or your breath ghosting against his throat and he'd just freeze.
Every time it happens, electric shocks would run down his skin and he’d be taking a quick trip to the bathroom to calm his racing heart.
It was insane how often he had to lean over the ceramic sink so early in the morning, breathing heavily to try and ground himself before he reenters the room and sneaks back into his bed, but strictly keeping himself on his side of the pillow fort while careful to take your hand in his once again without waking you up.
But today, he found himself wishing for time to stop just so he could stare at your face at this very moment.
With the light sheen of the light filtered through the curtains bouncing on one side of your skin giving you an ethereal appearance, he found himself at a loss for words at the beauty presented before him. His eyes traced the lines of the long lashes kissing the apple of your cheeks, the slope of your nose, and down to the plush of your lips.
Jimin has lost count on how many times he has wondered about how it’d felt pressing against his.
In the peaceful silence of the early mornings, all he did was stare and wait for time to pass while wishing internally for the world to slow just so he could soak in the peace the morning brought.
Eventually though, he had to steer his attention elsewhere. Jimin rolls to the other end to reach for his phone on the bedside table.
He’s been scrolling on his phone for a couple of minutes, lurking in the fandom space—both international and local—when the door creaks open and Taehyung steps in with sleep-lidden eyes and body heavy with lethargy. Forgoing to close the door of their room, he trudged towards the bed like an overworked employee before promptly falling face first to the spot between you and him. He churned in the small space, making himself comfortable by throwing an arm around your blanket-covered form.
For a long while, the only sound in the room came from the occasional videos he plays.
It was weird. Having a soulmate who has multiple soulmates is weird.
He should be feeling disturbed seeing someone cuddle up to his soulmate but he wasn’t. Jimin, contrary to popular belief, is possessive, probably more than Jungkook was in his younger age. Although it wasn’t to the point of killing like people like to showcase in films these days, possessiveness for him is as tame as snaking arms around waists and narrowed eyes.
Maybe there’s a bit of pulling them aside for a quick reminder in the middle of an event but the point is, he’s possessive.
But he couldn’t find a single cell in his body who was bothered by the presence of someone else in the room.
This soulmate thing is weird.
When he laughed at a post, Taehyung dragged himself up to shoulder level just to see what he was laughing at before giggling himself. Suddenly, you push yourself up and turn to them with squinted eyes.
“Good morning, noona.”
“Tae? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, Seokjin hyung sent me up here to wake you both up—”
“It’s still too early!” she groaned, stretching her arms above her head. “I’m not built for working this early!”
“— he said if you don’t go down before seven, he’ll eat the can of smelly fish you bought for him in Sweden as a joke.”
You paused, the threat successfully shutting you up before you let out an exaggerated groan and dramatically burying yourself back into the pillow.
“Can’t a girl rest? I have a bad headache, and I don’t even know if the beating is Namjoon’s or mine.”
It’s easy to forget how there’s six different soulmarks affecting her all at the same time. From how she’d hear their leader’s heartbeat no matter how far, to the altered taste due to his Seokjin hyung’s mark, and to his Healing Touch. He couldn’t even fathom how much of a nightmare it is sensing everyone.
They eventually dragged themselves down to the dining room after a quick bathroom break. Jin had immediately greeted them with heaps upon heaps of pancakes with maple syrup drooling over the side and scrambled eggs on the table.
Yoongi and Namjoon were already nursing their cups of coffee on the table—with Joon hyung taking his rightful spot on one end of the table as the leader, Seokjin hyung taking the seat on the opposite side, and Yoongi next to their leader—Seokjin was occupied with his food when they arrived, one scrolling on his phone while the other crazily scribbled on his journal.
“You didn’t even try to at least cook me waffles, hyung. I’m hurt!” He exclaimed and the man rolled his eyes.
“In another life, if you were my soulmate, maybe I would’ve considered it.” Jin then flashed a smile at you before skipping back to the kitchen.
Jimin couldn’t help but notice how you shifted uncomfortably on your seat at the noticeably more generous portion on your plate and he switched his plate with yours, immediately shoving one into his mouth before his hyung returned. An action noticed by everyone in the room.
“Jimin,” Yoongi called out, voice gentle as a whisper. “Give me one.”
He followed, standing up to bring his plate closer to his hyung and passing it over, adding the eggs into the equation when Yoongi motioned him to add it. Seokjin returns when Jungkook has trudged out of his room and taking the empty space next to Taehyung.
Jungkook immediately noticed the generous amounts on his plate and immediately reached out for two pancakes with his fingers and plopping it down on his plate before taking three more from the middle dish and practically drowning his towers in maple syrup. As if it wasn’t enough, he reached for the softened butter.
When Jin returned, it was with another dishful of bacon and slices of apple. If he noticed the change of plates, he said nothing.
For a long while, they all occupied themselves with their food. A companionable silence
“What’s the agenda for today?” Jungkook was the first to break the silence.
“Yoongi hyung is coming with us to buy furniture for noona.” Jimin replied.
Taehyung then stops slicing his pancake and jutted out his lips towards Yoongi’s direction.
“Can I come with you?”
“I need your voice for the new song I’ve been working on.” Namjoon replied, looking up from his journal with a stern stare directed at the pouting boy. “You’ve been gone for so long, I have a couple for you to work on.”
“I can do that tomorrow, hyung. Let me go just for today? Hm?”
“I can go right? Since you need Tae’s voice instead of mine.” Jungkook sleepily chimed in, eyes still half closed and a hand raised halfway.
“You’ll do the carrying?” Yoongi challenges.
“I’ll even do the talking.”
Jungkook held his gaze with a small, playful grin, waking his face up which Yoongi matched after a couple seconds passed.
“Alright, you’re going with us, kid.”
“I have a touch-based soulmark, I need to come too!” Taehyung argued..
“It's not as drastic as Jimin’s. Even then, you’ve recharged enough.” Seokjin responds, pointing his fork at him.
But before Tae could reply, a shrill notification sound pierced through the air and Y/N pulled her phone out of the pockets of her sleep shorts. Eomma <3
Shit.
Seeing how fast the entertained lilt in her expression drops into dread, the table falls into a hush. As if sensing the approaching tsunami of words from her mother, Yoongi takes his mug and walks out of the room with Seokjin following close behind.
_____
“What did I hear about you getting a soulmate? You ungrateful child, I carried you for nine months and raised you with my blood, sweat, and tears yet this is how you treat me?!”
That was how your mother had begun the moment you had accepted her call. Her voice, despite being carried through such a small device, had blasted out, her uncontainable rage far too grand to be limited by the phone’s initial features. How a small woman could hold such an explosive anger and powerful voice is a wonder no one in the world has the answer for.
Hearing her voice through the speakers had Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon fleeing the scene, but not without karma immediately hitting their leader who had accidentally checked his shoulder on the wall on his way out.
Jungkook followed quickly, dunking his milk in one go and taking his plate with him as he jogged to follow his hyungs, Taehyung behind him.
Jimin had tried to leave but was stopped by both your entangled hands.
“So damn ungrateful you are! Didn't even tell me what was happening, a fucking lawyer knocked on my door and there I find out that my child is tethered. What was my daughter doing to forget to tell HER mother she had soulmates? Why did I have to hear it from someone I don't know?!”
“Did you really think you could leave me alone here?” I whisper-shout at him.
“Noona, let me go. I know we can go for five minutes now.”
“You’re really gonna risk our health for that?”
“At least don’t turn the camera at me, let me hide under the table.”
“Is that my new son-in-law Jimin?” Your mother had chimed, her tone taking a sudden turn. I turned the camera to him despite the insistent shake of head and wide eyes. “When you said you were also trying to find a husband for my daughter, I didn’t think you’d mean you and your brothers!”
“I know right?! Who knew I’d be one of the husbands I’ve been talking about, right auntie?”
“Already talking about marriage, huh? Y/N!” You turn the camera to you and find her smiling so wide you feel your cheeks ache for her. “Your soulmates got good heads on them, already thinking about marriage this early on!”
You shake your head.
While marriage had once been an issue you lost sleep on, you knew it was impossible to attain as idols. They still got stadiums to perform in, songs to compose and perform for the ARMY. Bangtan would continue on for years as long as they sing and dance or as long as their passion remains alive and roaring. They had worked hard to get where they are now, with the taste of glory and power that comes with their rise in fame, retirement is a far away dream when they’re just getting started.
Not to mention, your brain still struggles to accept your new reality despite the very apparent a red string connecting you and Yoongi over the table, and hearing Namjoon's heartbeat at the back of your mind. Hoseok hasn’t even checked his test result yet but your mother is already looking decades ahead.
“Ma please, you know that’s after they retire which is thirty years from now.”
“Jimin,” she calls out, lip jutted out in a pout and he leans over to get into the frame. “Are you guys going to make this old woman wait to see her daughter be a bride? I’m not gonna last long you know? My bones hurt every morning and my appetite is beginning to weaken.”
Jimin laughed nervously, eyes wide as he turned to you for help but you're not going to jump in when his face has calmed the raging beast.
“Don't think for one second that I'm done with you, you ungrateful brat! You haven't even told me why you broke it off with Guwon when he was about to propose!”
“D-does it really matter now?” You winced when Jimin narrowed his eyes at you. Suddenly remembering what was drowned out by the sudden revelation of your soulmate links.
“It doesn't, global popstars sound much better than a lawyer anyway but would it hurt you to tell me what happened exactly? Don't you think your mother deserved an explanation at least after I toiled away trying to find you a husband?!”
“Don't you worry about it anymore, auntie,” Jimin says, voice like a gentle caress trying to tame her fierce anger. “Noona now has seven to care for her now, we'll get to that bridge when it comes but for now, how about we treat you girls to a nice spa out in Jeju?”
“Oh? I wouldn't want to impose on your bonding period, but I'd like to take that offer later. How so nice of you, Jiminie.”
“It’s not the best of gifts but I assure you that there’s plenty to come. Expect a couple of fruit baskets from Yoongi hyung and other stuff too from the others.
“You seven better take care of my daughter, it would be a shame if you all mucked it all up and I have to resent you all.” Your mother sighed, feigning sadness. “Anyways, expect a visit from Soo-in soon dear daughter. She will deliver my heartfelt joy in my stead, your father still needs my help around the house, damn pride of his, he shouldn’t have mindlessly tried to fix the roof himself.”
A shiver wracks down your spine at the thought of your mother’s gift after ghosting her and Soo-in for almost a week now.
The last time your sister had visited, it was after Jungkook had ‘ran-into-the-sunset’ with you on his shoulder and him covered from head to toe in black. The vile wrench had switched your sugar and salt, hid the lids of your tupperwares, hid lego in your shoes before eventually ending her wickedness by hiding the wires of your charger and the wifi router’s adapter.
If your mother only threatened to hang you upside down, Soo-in made sure everything in life became irritatingly inconvenient.
“She won’t be pinching my ears?”
“She’s classier than that, I raised her first so expect more. I love you, dear daughter! Visit us soon with your seven soulmates!”
__________
[Today, 12:42] [12:42] The BADDEST💅: so let me get one thing straight and two things gay [12:42] The BADDEST💅: ur linked with bangtan? [12:42] The BADDEST💅: THE ENTIRE ROSTER????? [12:43] The Mother😌: congratulations Y/N, I’m so glad you finally found your soulmates😊 [12:43] The Mother😌: always knew you’d be tethered [12:43] The PRETTIEST🌸: so who’s the biggest?👀 [12:43] The BADDEST💅: girl I don’t even think you got the libido for two [12:43] The BADDEST💅: how tf are you gonna handle seven?!?!?! [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she was in the hospital u fiend @The Prettiest [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she needs to be worrying about a different type of d to receive [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮💨: SHUT IT MINHYUK [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮💨: hoseok isn’t confirmed yet so its just six for now [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: bet you wish he’s your soulmate too [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: cuz the way that man thrusts his hips in baepsae? [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: 🥵 [12:44] The Mother😌: have some faith in her, she’ll manage [12:44] The Mother😌: gift giving for your birthday just got a whole lot easier though😊 [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮💨: wdym by that @The Mother😟 [12:45] The BADDEST💅: NO BUT SRSLY [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW TF ARE YOU GONNA MANAGE SEVEN [12:45] The BADDEST💅: ONE DICK PER DAY??? SEVEN DAYS A WEEK??/ [12:45] The BADDEST💅: lowkey wish that for me BUT [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW?????? [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮💨: MINHYUK PLEASE [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮💨: JIMIN IS LITERALLY NEXT TO ME [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮💨: NABI CONTROL YOURSELF [12:46] The PRETTIEST🌸: don’t scold me when ik ur thinking about it too [12:46] The Mother😌: when’s the soulbinding? [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮💨: Jihae please, its only been a few days [12:46] The Mother😌: back in my days, people bound themselves and completed the bond on the first day… [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: minhyuk i think you're forgetting the best part out of this [12:47] The BADDEST💅: wut? [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: imagine Alexa’s reaction when she finds out our dearest Y/N is Seokjin’s real soulmate [12:47] The BADDEST💅: OH [12:48] The BADDEST💅: she better HOPE she’s not in bighit anymore the moment the NDA expires [12:48] The BADDEST💅: im going to be the most annoying fucker she’ll ever meet [Today, 13:02] [13:02] The BADDEST💅: no but srsly how? [13:02] The PRETTIEST🌸: R I P that pussy ayee
________
There’s nothing more infuriating than picking furniture with your soulmates, you decided.
Yoongi wanting everything to be practical and of the greatest quality matched with Jungkook’s penchant for only liking soft things, it was hell to be stuck in a furniture warehouse with the both of them. Jimin had never looked so godly when he insisted on letting you pick the brownish-red persian rug to be placed under the wide round canopy bed you had eventually settled with after a long debate with the rapper and the youngest.
What started as Jimin towing you around the shop to place you in front of every furniture before a mischievous grin spread across his lips, and the strength of the bed frames immediately turned sour when you both found your other two companions calmly arguing about the color of the curtains—they both eventually settled with thick white, and beige curtains, to Jungkook’s dismay.
He wanted black-out curtains for when he eventually ends up sleeping in your bed, he claimed.
The current dilemma, however, had you going silent as the prickles of irritation began to itch your skin.
Yoongi wanted to commission a carpenter he knew for a custom desk made for you and is insisting on you to skip shopping for tables and shelves, and take the cheapest one for now but Jungkook thinks it’ll take too long and wanted the boho vanity table set with a huge round mirror with stained glass around the edges. The rapper wanted the place you’d be doing work on, to be built with the practical features while keeping it organized but Jungkook, although he saw his hyung’s vision, refused.
“Imagine waking up with a canopy, great quality bed, amazing decor, then you have to stand up and work on a rackety blue plastic table because you have to wait months for that desk. How does that sound, hyung?”
Jimin not picking sides only added to the pounding headache you’re having.
While you understand both sides of the argument, either of those options didn't make you feel less guilty about having them skip work to spend all this money for your room, even if you knew how barely of a scratch their collective funds will take.
If Taehyung hadn't had the foresight to hide your wallet while you were in the shower with Jimin, the guilt would've been lighter.
You envy Jin who has been prickling your tastebuds with honey glazed fried chicken back in bighit, the lingering taste on your tongue making your stomach uncomfortably churn in hunger.
The disguises could only last for so long before people start noticing how familiar your soulmates’ eyes are, seeing as they’re plastered everywhere in the major cities. For the public to see your hands entangled in the pocket of Jimin’s coat would fuel the press for a year; hell, a century even with how the media moves these days.
As Jungkook’s voice picks up, you reach for the red string and Yoongi halts, looking down at the connecting line before gently grabbing it too.
‘Head hurts’
‘No more’
The rapper lets out an exhale and Jungkook stops.
‘Sorry’
‘Forgive?’
“Ok, so how about we take the set and I commission my guy then we’ll change it out once it's done?”
“Deal.”
Next to you, Jimin sighed in relief. “Thank god that’s settled, I thought I was going crazy listening to them debate on what’s better.”
“I don’t think either of them has ever fought for something they wanted that much.”
You turn to Jimin and a teasing smirk grows on his face.
“They love you like that, noona. Wanted nothing but the best of the best for you.”
In a different context, you would've easily brushed off his comment but having the warmth of his touch thrum from your hand to your toes, the healing touch always at work, your cheeks flushed dark and you lightly slapped his arm.
Ever dramatic, he clutched his bicep and winced.
“Why are you hurting me like this?”
“Please, we have regeneration as our soulmark. You're barely hurt.”
“I'm gonna bruise and the fans are gonna see it then I'm telling them how much you like hurting me!”
________
When Hoseok arrived it was with a chorus of loud bangs!. The man had leapt at least a foot or two from the shock as confetti rained on him.
Once he recovered though, he rained curses on the mischievous maknaes—and surprisingly, Yoongi and Namjoon too but they were spared due to one having his hyung privilege and Namjoon having retreated to the kitchen before his hyung had recovered from the shock.
Jin had clapped him in the back when he entered the dining room, fitting the huge and frilly birthday hat on his head and taking a picture of his dumbfounded reaction before the man could even realise what was happening.
Seeing them celebrate such a small thing, an odd feeling settles in your heart. You try not to be a killjoy but you couldn't ignore the mass settling on your gut.
Everything continued on as normal, everyone acted like they had before Jungkook's confession. They find out their links to you and suddenly, the past is behind them. As if you hadn't—although unintentionally—led them on and hadn't rejected three of them. A soul link appears and every fault was forgiven.
It wasn't only you who seemed to be feeling this way though.
Namjoon too it seems, seeing how he had kept his distance. Not in a bad way but rather a respectable, perfectly platonic way. You guessed it'll take long before the information would sink in for the non-believer, he was the one who had treated you more professionally than the others. You'd feel his concerned eyes ever so often but other than that, he'd treat you like a fragile glass.
Never to be touched and never to be perceived too long, fearing the weight of his gaze is enough to make you crumble.
(Or was it just you turning something that was normal before into fuel for your restless mind with the soulmarks now in the picture?)
You knew Namjoon is just having a hard time settling down with the fact that he's in a nexus connection with you but the ugly voice at the back of your head whispered a different tale. All of them are negative and judged far too harshly than you normally do yourself.
Jungkook bets his hyung will break after the third week, Tae says a month, and Jimin slyly says next week. You think it'll take Namjoon at least half a year before he properly processes him being tethered to someone, a non-believer.
The thumb that began to caress your knuckles snapped you out of your thoughts and you immediately found Jimin’s concerned eyes.
“You okay?”
You nod but he knew you better. Luckily, he lets it go.
“Open it, open it!” Jungkook chants, bringing everyone to gather around them.
Hoseok nervously laughed, placing down his car keys, phone, and wallet on the table before flipping the envelope’s flap.
Unconsciously, you leaned forward as he carefully tears the paper, the sound seeming to echo loudly in the silence of everyone’s nervous anticipation. As his brothers had gone from standing at a respectful distance to noisily looking over the main dancer’s shoulder, Jimin had tugged you closer to join them, standing in front and peering over as Hoseok flips open the first fold.
Then out of nowhere, Yoongi had a burst of energy and screamed.
Everyone jumped at his sudden burst of energy making Hoseok’s hand shoot up to his heart and the three maknaes snapped their head to their hyung. The man in question laughed noiselessly, satisfied with the reaction he garnered.
“Hyung, why did you do that?! I just got out of the hospital and you want to send me back again!”
“You’re practically invincible, what are you talking about?” Yoongi shot back.
“Just open it, all I’m seeing is your information hyung and that’s boring!” Taehyung cuts in. “I already know what your blood type is, your last name—”
“You go open it then—”
His words died on his tongue when Taehyung snatched the paper up from the envelope and pulled it open. But before he could start reading the result, Hoseok took it back.
Waiting as he read through his results felt like watching the presidential race on the tv, heartbeat rising every time the opposing candidate gained more than the man you elected. You worried your bottom lip with your teeth. His eyebrows furrowed, his frown deepening as his eyes wandered lower and you began to panic.
Why are you even nervous?
Aren't you being too greedy for wanting to have Hobi too?
Hoseok then crumbled into the floor, curling up to himself as he clutched the paper to his chest. Instantly, everyone panics as his heart shattering sobs echoed in the living room.
Suddenly, the colorful decorations hanging on the wall and the balloons scattered on the floor made
“Hoba? What’s wrong?”
“Hyung come on, don’t make me nervous like this!”
“What did it say?”
Jimin falls next to him, your hand momentarily forgotten to comfort his hyung and Jungkook follows, hugging the sobbing man while Seokjin reaches for the crumpled paper peeking out of Hoseok’s curled up form, a grim expression on his face.
“I am writing to inform you of the results of your recent soulmark evaluation and tethered status assessment. After a thorough examination and review of your diagnostic tests, it has been confirmed that you are,” Seokjin takes a deep breath then releases it shakily, a wide smile spreading across his lips. “Indeed tethered.”
You let go of the breath you had unconsciously held in as everyone in the room began to celebrate. Jimin pulled Hoseok to stand, laughing as the man continued to weep before reaching up to fix the birthday cap Seokjin had slipped onto his head. Jungkook, unable to stop himself from ridiculing his hyungs whenever he could, pulled out his phone to record them.
“How do you feel knowing you’re the first ever tethered in your family?”
Taehyung follows by placing his phone under Hoseok’s chin like a mic.
“You must be so happy being the first Jung to have a soulmate since the dawn of time, sir. Please tell us what you’re feeling right now.”
“Get that fucking… camera off my face or I’ll break it.”
Hearing this, Namjoon turns to the maknaes. “Stop teasing him, Seokjin hyung isn’t even done reading it.”
Despite this, Jungkook didn’t stop recording but Taehyung had skipped over to look over Seokjin’s shoulder.
“I think you’ll want to read this one yourself, Hoba.” The oldest says, handing the paper over to the sniffling man.
With his result back in his hand, Hoseok straightened himself, clearing his throat as Jimin gently wipes his tears off of his cheeks.
“This means you have a soulmate, a unique and profound connection that is both rare and significant. Furthermore, based on the characteristics of your soulmark and the energy patterns observed, there is a high probability that your soulmark is of the altering type.”
“They have the technology to figure out the soulmark type too?” Yoongi asks, surprised.
“Unfortunately, the global fated registry haven’t figured out a way to pinpoint what soulmark our patients have. It is with our deepest—”
“Didn’t know that, had mine cancelled when I figured it out before the results came.” Seokjin replied. Beside him, Taehyung pulls up his phone to rapidly type out whatever he had in his mind.
“I wonder what kind of altering mark it is. There’s a lot of documented ones but what if it’s also a new soulmark? A revived one from the 19th century like Jimin’s?”
“That’s unlikely.” Yoongi refutes.
“You don’t know that.”
With the initial elation ebbing away, everyone continued the celebration seated around the dining table where Jimin had parted from you to take out the congratulating cake from the fridge to light up and serve in front of their hyung who had almost toppled over with how hard he laughed seeing it.
Yoongi had insisted they also take out the apologizing cake so it wouldn’t go to waste. Upon hearing this, the group broke out in laughters, unbelieving until Jungkook brings out the ube flavored cake with the sentence “sorry your family nerfed your potential to be a lover boy.” placed on top in red icing.
The excitement never faded away through the night, dinner was lively, as if they had swept the four daesangs on both award shows. But instead of being influenced by the joy you feel down the red line from Yoongi and the practically vibrating maknaes sitting across you who keep cutting through conversations with suggestions on what soulmark their hyung might have, you find yourself standing behind a tall wall.
When everyone cheered and raised their mugs to toast, you only felt yourself mentally retreat further as a mass settled deep in the pit of your gut.
Seeing the men around you with wrists decorated in thick bands of gold that cost more than your yearly wage, faces flawless from careful maintenance, and names carrying the weight of their country’s pride, did you really deserve them?
You, who was a nobody staff they just happen to gravitate to due to the closeness of age, matched with the members of the world’s biggest boyband. They weren’t just out of your league. You’re the human on earth wishing to reach the stars from another, far away galaxy, yet by fate’s generosity, you were given the chance to see the beauty of them from up close.
How does one come from dating sleazy men with oily hair and faces akin to an infant’s drawing to being tethered to superstars everyone in the world would sacrifice a life for a chance to talk to them?
When everyone had begun to retire for the night, Jimin had silently guided you back to his room. The sensation of him pressing a kiss on your forehead cuts off your thoughts, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug grounding you further.
“Are you with me now, noona?”
“Of course, I always am.” You answered with a scoff, pulling away and he frowned.
“I could sense your feelings the entire dinner, don’t try to lie to me.”
Even in the shades of his room bare of any bright lighting, you feel Jimin stare past your physical body and peer into your soul. In the harsh darkness with only you and him standing in it, you felt exposed, stripped to the barest bone under his gaze.
Never have you ever hated having a soulmate than you do now with someone perceiving your feelings openly, sensing the slightest shift in your mood with a brush of skin. It's annoying, scary yet at the same time relieving that there’s someone who could hear the tune of the noise in your brain.
Not many people have the same luck you have, seven soulmates with one of them granting you what technically is immortality, who else wins at life like that?
But do you really deserve it? Deserve them?
“Stop that. You deserve this, deserve all of us. If someone thinks otherwise, tell me their name and I’ll go beat them up.”
You laugh. “You can’t do that, that’ll stain your image.”
“I don’t think you understand just how important you are to me, noona.” He says, pulling you closer to him. “Before you think about it, I’ll beat someone up for you with or without the soulmarks.”
The image of someone with the face of an angel and a sweet demeanor like Jimin jumping someone in the parking lot to fight for your honor shouldn’t have made you cackle the way you did. The warm rumbles from your linked hands spread across your body and the thoughts were immediately silenced.
“I know you wouldn’t like it but I’ll be telling the other guys about this. I don’t like how you think you’re undeserving of all this when you do, in fact, deserve this bond after sticking with us through thick and thin. You saw all of our flaws and helped us in our bad days, you may think you haven’t done much to warrant this kind of luck but you do.”
Jimin pressed his lips on your forehead and your heart skipped a beat.
“Namjoon hyung might have a problem expressing it, Yoongi hyung might not show it openly like Jungkook and Taehyung does, but they share the same sentiment. It’ll take them time to be more expressive so I hope you find it in yourself to be patient. We’re still in the adjusting phase so if anything bothers you, don’t hesitate to tell us.”
Tears were streaming down your face at this point, eyes burning as they poured out like a waterfall. The softness in his voice has eased its way into your heart and dispelled the gloominess surrounding it, replacing it with a crashing wave of relief followed by the warmth provided by the soulmark.
You didn’t realise how much your thoughts had been wearing you down until tonight. Comforted by his words and the tightness of his hug, the dam finally breaks and you falter in his hold.
“Shh, cry it all out, noona.”
“I-I shouldn’t be crying over something so stupid like this.”
He shakes his head. “It's not stupid. Don’t say that.”
There’s a tug on your pinkie and you feel the string grow heavier. Immediately, Yoongi’s concern bleeds into you.
‘Why crying?’
‘What happened?’
“Let’s go lay down, noona. I’m feeling the ache in my muscles bending down like this.” He says lightheartedly, giggling. “Don’t worry about answering the others, I’ll handle it later.”
Guiding you to the bed, Jimin tugs you to fall into his arms and you let yourself be pulled into his chest.
Between the sound of Jimin and Namjoon’s heartbeats, and his fingers tracing slow circles on your back while the other hand massaged your scalp, it was easy to be lulled into sleep. In the echoing sound of your sniffles and hiccups, his sweet humming permeates through the air. His song was familiar yet your sleep addled mind took a second to realise what it was.
Serendipity, your mind eventually supplied.
For a moment, in the solace his arms offered, the world became quiet and you fell asleep, forgetting to worry about what chaos yesterday will bring.
_________
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