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mizusbabygirl · 2 days ago

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double double ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

player 380 (se-mi) x fem reader AND guard 011 (kang no-eul) x fem reader ────୨ৎ──── cw: no-eul and se-mi both have a g!p (girl penis), threesome, creampie, unprotected sex, blowjob, masturbation, sexting??, some fluff bc why not

i’m incredibly sorry for not posting a lot anymore. i’ve just been really busy lately but i’ll still take requests because yes, i need more ideas 🙏🙏.

you dip your fingers deep inside your vagina, your fingers trace around your wetness, the pink flesh inside your pussy. soft moans escape from your mouth as you struggle to reach over to grab your phone with your unoccupied hand to record yourself fingering and playing with your pussy and send it to the girl who you’ve been crushing on since high school.

this love interest of yours has also had feelings for you but you two have never dated since your former classmates didn’t like the idea of same-sex relationships.

but now that you’ve graduated and you finally feel confident enough to do whatever the fuck you wanted, you finally found the chance to have contact with that girl again.

se-mi was her name, wasn’t it?

you thought to yourself as you tapped on the record button on your phone and continued pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy. you made a few fake moans to make it seem more lewd than it already was. you found yourself spreading your folds with your fingers, playing around with your clit and teasing yourself until you eventually came.

what if she forgot about me and found someone else?

you thought again as you saved the video into your camera and tossed your phone aside as you made your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

she couldn’t possibly… she basically promised that she would give me the world back then.

you went back to your room and picked up your phone, starring at the “who’s this” message from her. you let out a big sigh and started typing away, explaining who you were, hoping she hasn’t forgotten about you.

“se-mi, you seriously don’t remember me?”

read

your head falls back against the couch’s backrest, feeling your phone drop out of your hands. your eyes become teary realizing that se-mi didn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

2 months later

it was the day before valentine’s day and you were in your room snacking on chocolate bars and scrolling through instagram, seeing all your friends post their partners. you felt happy for them but you were tired of being single and alone. suddenly, you see a notification and to your surprise, it was se-mi.

a smile grew on your face as you immediately opened her message.

“hey, let’s talk”

seeing that message made you giggle, you finally thought the universe granted your wish and that you were finally going to be happy.

just as you were typing, an incoming call popped up on your screen.

it was her.

as you were calling with her, your brain flooded with memories that you shared with her back in high school. you felt like you were finally at peace for once. you felt like you finally have gotten what you’ve wanted.

after the call, you both agreed to go on a date at a local restaurant the next day for valentine’s day.

“my pretty girl, i’m sorry i haven’t answered you for so long, nonetheless, i’m also sorry i never even tried getting in contact with you again after we graduated,” se-mi said as she held your hand tightly as the two of you walked out of the restaurant.

you stopped and watched her reach for something in her bag, she pulls out a letter along with a small gift box.

“it might not be much, but this sure is given to you by me with lots of love. happy valentine’s day,” se-mi said as she handed the gift and the letter.

you held the small box in your hands. curiously, you open the box carefully and find a small pink beaded bracelet. it was the bracelet she wanted to give you back in high school.

“se-mi, how did you manage to keep it for all these years? you really haven’t forgotten about me haven’t you?” you smiled.

“no. in fact, i’ve always dreamed about the day we could finally start dating and perhaps start a future together soon,” se-mi said and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

you starred into her deep dark brown eyes, her gaze looking soft and full of love that made you want to pull her into a kiss.

you missed the feeling of her soft lips meeting yours, her tongue entering your mouth, her taste, her soft whines. but here you are, experiencing that all over again.

you found yourself under her, her body pressed against yours, on top of you on your bed. both of you felt hungry for each other and the fabric of your clothes began to feel uncomfortable as if you were urging to take them off to feel her bare skin against yours.

“baby, before i take my clothes off,” she hesitated as she broke the hot make out session between the two of you, “i want to share a secret of mine to you”. se-mi rolls off the bed and unbuckles her belt. you tilt your head, you curiously wonder what type of secret she was hiding from you.

just as you began unbuttoning your shirt, she unzips her pants and pulls them down, revealing her grey boxers.

“you wearing boxers is your biggest secret?” you giggled but your smile eventually faded away as soon as you saw a bulge. your eyes widened as she pulled them down.

she has a dick..? it definitely looks real but it looks bigger than average…

you felt your pussy getting wet at the sight of her dick becoming hardened. so you immediately undress yourself, leaving yourself only wearing a pair of pink panties that will soon be torn apart by the hands of se-mi.

“se-mi…” you whined as her tip teased your clothed pussy. “you know.. it would’ve been funny if i told you about this back then so that way i could be pounding your pussy all day everyday in the school bathrooms,” se-mi giggled as she spread your thighs.

“oh baby..!” you moan out loudly as se-mi reaches over and rips open your panties, revealing your tight pussy covered in its own juices. you lick your lips at the feeling of her hard member about to enter your tight pussy.

se-mi rubs her tip around your slick, making you whine and feel frustrated since she kept edging you.

oh but how much she loves watching you whine and get all fuzzy when she teases you…

just before you could stick it in yourself, you feel her push her dick inside you, causing you to scream. “oh fuck.. never knew it was that fucking huge!” you let out a loud moan as she started thrusting inside of your baby maker slowly, but hard.

you could see the satisfaction se-mi had on her face and she looked fucking proud having her new girlfriend act like a slut for her dick. she watched you crave for it, savour it, watched your pussy devour it whole.

“you know,” she spoke up, her voice sounding quite raspy, “there was this girl that went to the same school as us and she also had a dick like me”. her thrusts accelerated but her main goal was to beat your cervix deep and hard, no matter the pace.

“her name?” you spoke in between moans. “kang.. hmm i don’t remember…” se-mi answered, her thrusts creating wet slapping sounds that mixed perfectly with her moans and yours.

“well for now.. it doesn’t matter, doll,” se-mi’s voice became gentle as she was about to cum. “oh fuck!” se-mi yelled out as she gave you a creampie, her hot cum filling up your womb.

you squirm around the bed feeling her hot load mixing around in your womb. “se-mi..” you moan, her body collapsing on top of yours. “her name was kang no-eul,” se-mi whispered into your ear.

2 months later, you and se-mi were constantly getting into arguments, meaning your relationship with her wasn’t working out how you wanted it to. but what she doesn’t know was that you recently started talking with no-eul.

yeah, you’re an asshole for that…

but are you really one? besides, se-mi wasn’t fulfilling any of your needs, not even the bare minimum. so what does she expect? does she expect you to still stay with her even though your relationship with her is in the ruins?

you don’t remember much about no-eul. all you remember from her is how she used to get in trouble at school a lot and how she constantly dated many girls at once. you never liked no-eul since you thought she was a jerk and an asshole. but you came to think about how she could probably have matured by now and how she could probably be better than se-mi.

the air felt warm, the flowers outside went from being small buds to beautiful colourful flowers with petals of all shapes and sizes. it was may and you recently have broken up with se-mi since you found no-eul now, and you realized how much better she is than se-mi.

you and no-eul weren’t dating yet but today the two of you decided to go to the mall as a small date. no-eul had a thing for constantly touching your thighs, hugging you, caressing you, even in public. you never minded it though, in fact, you loved it.

as the day was ending, no-eul had to go home but you didn’t have a lift so you went in her car. the ride home wasn’t awkward at all since the two of you were listening to songs on the radio that the both of you enjoyed.

“don’t you want to stay at my house for the night instead?” no-eul suggested as she parked outside of your home. you shaked her head, rejecting her offer since you weren’t comfortable enough yet. but as a way to build comfortability with her, you leaned in and gave her a peck on her cheek. “i’ll see you later, i promise,” you said as you gave her another kiss on her cheek and then you got off the vehicle.

that night, your feelings for her began to grow and so they did as the week went by.

“fucking brat,” no-eul grunted as she pushed your head against the bathroom stall the two of you were having sex in. your back was arched and you were bent over, taking her dick inside you. she pumped her dick in and out of your pussy and asshole.

she was so fucking advanced at this…

anyone who entered the bathroom could hear the moans and fast slapping sounds coming from the stall the two of you were in.

“fucking tempting me all day with you wearing a skirt and you only wore a pair of panties with a hole in them underneath, fucking pervert,” no-eul said as she put her finger inside your mouth as she kept thrusting inside your pussy. “don’t pull out,” you spoke up, your saliva coating her fingers as she put another one in. “you want me to breed you?” she asked using a sarcastic tone. you nodded. “you seriously want my cum dripping out of your pussy in front of everyone? have fucking morals,” she asked again, thrusting in slowly but hard, clearly giving signs that she was about to bust a nut inside of you.

“oh but how could i ever want to pull out? your gummy cervix feels so stretchy and warm,” she giggled as small spurts of her seed spurted inside of you. she gave her last thrust and pushed her dick inside of you, as deep as possible as her cum filled your cunt. it didn’t have much difference to se-mi’s cum. but you could tell se-mi’s was much more watery and no-eul’s was thick and sticky.

she pulled out, a string of her cum connected between her tip and your pussy. you turned around and adjusted your skirt and put your panties back on quick, not having enough time to wipe off her cum from your thighs and pussy.

“let’s go to my house at this point.. you’re going to feel uncomfortable all day if you walk around like this,” she said, giving you a kiss on your lips.

just as soon as you entered her home and she shut the door behind y’all, she unzipped her pants, bent you over, lifted your skirt, pulled down your panties and began fucking you relentlessly again. “take off your clothes please, oh fuck, i want to see your tits and everything,” no-eul said, her voice reeking with lust.

she threw you onto a nearby couch, you quickly took off your skirt and unhooked your bra, and took off the rest of your clothes.

she threw herself onto you, her tits pressing against yours, she gave you sloppy wet kisses on your lips. her nipples became hardened and turned into a bright pink color as she entered you again. this time, it slipped inside of you perfectly since her dick was covered in her own pre-cum and your pussy had her left over cum still dripping out of you. “you’re so hot, mommy,” you whimpered as she threw your leg over her shoulder and felt her jack hammering inside of you, beads of sweat coating her forehead. “mommy, eh?” she giggled, clearly feeling aroused by the pet name you gave her.

“come on baby, i want you on your hands and knees now, and don’t forget to arch that back,” she ordered as she randomly pulled out and saw you follow her order. instead, the upper part of your body laid on the couch making it better for you to arch your back as much as possible.

she slipped it in again, she gave your ass a sharp slap. her hands gripped onto your sides, thrusting in deep and fast.

“your ex.. se-mi.. wants to see you again,”

later that evening

you were laying next to no-eul, cuddling with her until you heard your phone ringing. you reach over to pick it up and took a look at the phone number that was calling.

it was se-mi.

“no-eul, you were right!”

“pick it up then, let’s see what she has to say,”

you answer the phone, and hear se-mi’s voice. you haven’t heard her voice since the day you broke up with her.

“i’m outside of no-eul’s but you can tell me to leave,”

“no, no, it’s fine—i’ll go unlock the door for you,”

“great, thanks,”

“before you hang up, why’re you wanting to see me again?”

“we’ll talk about it when you let me in,”

you hung up the call then turned to look at no-eul, who was listening to the entire conversation. “i’m not stopping you,” no-eul said. “but she’s my ex—aren’t you worried she might want to get back with me,” you added.

“and is that my problem? besides, you know who’s better,” she said then reached over to caress your cheek. you sighed, “fine”.

you opened the door and saw se-mi standing in the doorway. before you could at least say hi to her, she walked right past you and went directly towards no-eul.

could it be that no-eul asked se-mi to come over?

“slow down! fuck!” you yelled out as se-mi bounced you up and down onto no-eul’s dick.

here you are, having a fucking threesome with your ex and your current girlfriend.

“your pussy really loosened up after getting with no-eul, didn’t it?” se-mi giggled, her hands lifted your body up and down onto no-eul faster and faster until you couldn’t take it anymore. “too bad you can’t see how pretty she looks right now, bouncing up and down on you, no-eul,” she teased.

no-eul scoffed, rolled her eyes and said, “and too bad you couldn’t be a good girlfriend for her so she had to run to me.”

se-mi furrowed her eyebrows and stopped what she was doing. you got off of no-eul’s lap then watched se-mi push you onto the bed. you laid on your stomach and felt se-mi grip onto your hips and pulled you towards her. “se-mi.. i missed you,” you uttered. se-mi, with a smirk on her face, began to fuck your pussy from behind relentlessly. she didn’t care about starting off slow or gentle, she went fast and rough, her tip hitting the end of your cervix with each pound.

“no-eul, don’t you want to join?” you asked. no-eul got in front of you, pulling your hair, making your head lift up to look at her. “of course i do,” she said. “open your mouth, baby,” no-eul ordered as you opened your mouth slightly.

“good girl,”

no-eul slipped her dick inside of your mouth while se-mi continued pounding you from behind.

this would make a great porno, wouldn’t it? the title for it could be double double.

too bad no-eul was actually fucking other girls whilst the two of you were dating. she never matured.

se-mi was really the one for you. afterall, despite the ups and downs, she always stayed loyal and she knew your heart only belonged to her.

#wlw #wlw community #wlw post #wlw blog #wlw love #fanfic #squid game #player 380 #kang no eul #no eul x reader #se mi x reader #se mi squid game #guard 011

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shanastoryteller · 3 days ago

Note

Obviously you are your own person, which means you will do whatever you want so I hope this doesn’t come off as annoying or rude because full stop I am so bad at wording things, but while I am happy that you’re on a break from spn (I am not one of the people in that fandom, and am here for other fics, though I honestly loved the updates, posts, and asks on it) I do hope you don’t feel like you have to work on x-y-z first before you can go back into your spn stuff. I know you said you’re already planning out the next spn fic, I just want you to be happy on what you’re working on even if you decided to abandon everything else forever and only do spn. Again I know you have never been one to stop what you plan just to make us happy (as it should be fr) but like. If you’d rather stay in spn for a bit I’d much prefer seeing those updates over a chapter in one of the fandoms I do read for. Seriously I promise if I am being annoying or rude it’s not my intention, but I am sorry if that is indeed what it’s coming across as (and I mean that honestly, not in a ‘sorry that’s how you feel way’). You are just my favorite author, and even though I’m only here for some of the fandoms I just don’t want to see you making yourself work on something that isn’t clicking in your brain at the moment, just because it’s been a while since you updated. I hope this isn’t coming off as rude or patronizing, but if it is then again, I want to say I’m sorry. Even if I’m not into spn, I’m excited to see the plans you have for it and everyone’s reactions.

this is SO sweet and not annoying or patronizing at all! i am 100% taking it in the spirit it's intended <3 thank you!!!

especially because .... i wrote another supernatural fic. oops. i had good intentions!!

i guess i'm really just committing to going back to hopping around rather than tunnel vision haha

i am having SO much fun with supernatural! but i like my other writing too. and this year i'd really like to get back into at least semi regular updates for siat. and some other things i want to finish up...

i know i write a lot, but it's actually so much less than i wish i could write! being an adult is such a pain

i am going to at least START the next siat chapter before getting distracted again T_T i swear i'm the one in control here...

#asks #anon

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winterzsurprise · 2 days ago

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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.

_________

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud @bri602 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @marvel-potter-1d-korea @comingupwithacoolnameishard @sooha-neul @juju-227592 @coffeewanderer @x-uno @diamonddia-mond @eggsysstuff @dearmyfavoritepeople-bts @sld88 @katsukis1wife

#bts x reader #bts x reader poly #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #min yoongi x reader #jung hoseok x reader #park jimin x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

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bitch-i-migth-be · 2 days ago

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I love your brain, please have a biscuit.

I kept thinking about the og baby a lot while I was writing that. Poor thing, just made up so he can die for the sake of the plot.

Also imposter syndrome.

In this case, for example, it would be interesting to see that even if Tim can relate to Kon- it’s not actually the same, because while Kon was made to replace Superman he never actually had to do it, he got to be his own person.

Tim doesn’t get that here.

He did replace someone. Even if that wasn’t the objective of his creation. He is actively living under the name of a dead boy (which later gets even worse after Jason dies and the whole Replacement Robin situation happens), . he didn’t get to be named by people that loves him or even choose one himself.

If anything the scientists who made him gave him some serial number and called it a day, because you know that cloning Danny isn’t easy, it got to have taken many many tries. Tim would be lucky if he doesn’t have it tattooed somewhere in his body like cattle, the GIW was interested in his biology not his aesthetics.

He didn’t have any other option or resources when the Drakes ‘took him in’, and by the time he could have actually done something about it he was already far too deep in his life as Tim Drake. Far too deep in the vigilante life, far too deep in a family and friends

Before becoming Robin, Tim didn’t think he would get that. He thought he would have to bide his time, be the Perfect Little Son he was purchased to be until he actually had a shot at disappearing with the minimum risk of being dragged back to the labs or the Drake’s;

Following the Dynamic Duo around was never supposed to be more than a pass time, and then maybe doing some wishful thinking about how maybe they could help him, and battling with himself about whether it was a good idea to drag them into his mess.

And then the Joker fucked it all up, his chance was gone and he had to step up before Batman managed to kill himself in his grief because no one else would do it.

Can you imagine if somewhere in his archives he actually has a file with a life he invented/built for himself before being Robin? a name he chose?? With so much care because this was supposed to actually be his. Maybe he still tweaks it up from time to time just because he can’t let the idea go, even now.

And if any of the bats ever finds it they would just think it’s another one of Tim’s alias, like Alvin Draper, and maybe they make fun of him because ‘some of those things are really cheesy, Timbo. how did you came up with that??’

And Tim just has to pretend that he is Fine TM ‘yeah, haha, laugh it up’ like it doesn’t hurt because what is he supposed to say at this point?

It was never supposed to get this far. He was not supposed to get attached, to have people he actually cared about and then lie, lie, lie. Not while he was still Tim.

He should have been gone by now, to have finally laid the memory of Timothy Jackson Drake to rest and become his own person.

But He doesn’t want to loose this. He is catastrophizing whenever he is not in deep denial about the situation but it doesn’t change the facts.

He got an actual life now, with family and friends like he always wanted.

But it’s still a fucking lie

In which Jack & Janet Drake manage to neglect their toddler to death and have to find a replacement before the police or, god forbid, the media tears them apart.

It’s a good thing the US Government is getting rid of the GIW’s highly immoral test subjects before the JL can crack down on them.

Ha. Jokes on you, Jason. ‘Tim’ has always been the replacement.

#dc x dp #dpxdc #danny fenton and tim drake are the same person #crossover #ghost shots #why do i keep doing this to myself #ugh #the sad hours #my brain is configured for angst right now #dp x dc crossover

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moonmunson · 1 day ago

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hello my old heart

a/n: wally clark has invaded my brain space and i cannot seem to rid him from my mind his himbo charms have seduced me. just in my mind this is set in the late '90s, but mr. martin isn't evil. none of the other kids are really mentioned by name, but this would be a few years after charley's death. as always i'm writing with a plus sized!reader in mind but anyone can read it.

summary: struggling with becoming comfortable in death, wally has made himself your new buddy.

cw: general angst and sadness over being dead, wally is a sweetheart who just wants to help. hurt/comfort with a sweet ending and a little bit of kissing. gn!reader, theatre kid x jock

wc: 2.1k

You think you’ve been dead for a little over a week. It’s hard to tell - time moves so differently here. It feels like static on the skin, the way the TV screen feels fuzzy when you touch it after it's been turned off. You haven’t spoken much, and the other dead kids don’t expect you to for a while. They’ve all told you that everyone reacts differently to their death, that there’s no right or wrong way to cope.

You’re worried that if you open your mouth, it’ll be difficult to stop crying. Or screaming, or both. So you sit quietly in the circle in the gymnasium, listening as Mr. Martin leads the support group meeting. You’re appreciative of his trying to get you to open up, but you’re only capable of responding in nods and shrugs. When it’s over, you go to make your way back to the auditorium. It might be weird to some, considering you died there, but it’s still the place you feel the safest.

A few steps out of the gym, you hear pounding footsteps coming up next to you. It’s Wally, because of course it is. He’s dubbed himself your ‘Unofficial death guide.’ He’s the sweetest, and you wish you could actively participate in conversation with him.

“You goin’ back to the auditorium?” When he talks, you have to crane your head to the right and all the way up because he’s so fucking tall. You nod, and he parrots it.

“I don’t know how you can go back to that place. I couldn’t even look at the football field for like a week after I died.” Even when you don’t respond, Wally keeps going. “I also don’t know how you stand sharing a space with Mina. She's, like, totally scary.” He makes a face then, pinched up, like he’s imagining being trapped in a room with the other, objectively more aggressive theatre ghost.

It makes you giggle. Like, audibly giggle. Wally’s eyes widen, surprised that he was able to get a noise out of you. He laughs in return, a breathless exhale. He’s clearly proud of himself.

“I have got to get you to do that again.” You shake your head no, even though the smile hasn’t left your face. “I’m serious, I have got to hear that laugh again!”

When you round the corner near the front office, you stop in your tracks, the smile on your face quickly fading. Your mom and dad are there, holding a box with everything that was in your locker. It’s a weird feeling. You hadn’t forgotten you were dead, obviously, but everything had felt very up in the air.

Like the moment before a show starts - everyone sitting in the audience, the curtain still down to block the view of actors taking their places. Like limbo. Seeing your parents, their tear stricken faces, that makes it feel real. Too real. The sharp breath you take in alerts Wally to the fact that something is wrong, and he follows your gaze to the two adults standing at the front desk.

“Oh shit, are those your parents?” Wally asks, his voice taking a softer tone. He has a volume control problem, everyone knows it, and you’re appreciative that he’s quieted down for this.

You nod, a small jerk of your head. He brings a tentative hand up to your shoulder, and when you don’t move away, he places it more firmly. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I really am. Do you wanna go up and see them?”

You don’t answer, you just walk away. Wally calls after you, but doesn’t follow.

The auditorium truly is your safe space. You were never brave enough to actually perform anything, though your teacher had begged you to. She’d heard you singing to yourself one day, and asked why you’d never auditioned for anything. You’d just deflected and said the stage fright would make you freeze. She’d been understanding, but encouraged you to think about auditioning for the show this year.

You were a senior, it’d been your last opportunity to be in the spotlight, but by the time auditions came around you’d chickened out. The hidden disappointment on your teacher’s face wasn’t so hidden, but she made sure you had your usual spot on the tech and run crew portion of the show.

You died a few weeks later, tripping off of the stage while setting up a set piece and breaking your neck falling into the orchestra pit. Like a sick fucking joke.

Now, you sit in the audience, gazing at the stage. It’s still blocked off by crime tape. The show for the end of the year has been effectively cancelled on account of your dying. ‘Postponed indefinitely’ is the term the overhead announcements had used, but you all knew what that actually meant. It just wasn’t gonna happen.

You mostly just feel numb. Obviously your death isn’t something you could ever prepare for, and just like every other ghost in the building, your life had been unfairly cut short. Just like everyone else, you’d had plans for the rest of your life. None of them solid or reliable, but you’d had some idea of what you wanted your life to look like. A well paying job that you genuinely enjoyed, maybe a husband or wife and a few kids. All of that is gone now.

Your parents in the front office felt like a kick to the gut, salt in the wound. The look on your mom’s face, the way your dad was cradling the box of your things like if he held tight to it enough it would bring you back.. it was too much to bear.

And Wally, sweet, kind, Wally. He’s been trying really hard with you, and you can’t even work up the nerve to say something to him. To thank him for being there for you, or answer any of the many questions or jokes he throws your way.

You don’t even realize the tears are streaming down your face until they drip onto your hands in your lap. Once you feel the first one, the rest fall in quick succession and before you know it, you’re audibly sobbing in the empty theatre. It’s almost embarrassing, the way your cries echo because of the acoustics.

Wally comes in quietly, and sits down next to you. You’ve been too preoccupied to notice anything other than your tears, heavy and streaking down your cheeks. He doesn’t say anything, just wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. He’s warm, and when you grab the front of his sweatshirt, he holds you tighter.

It takes a while for you to calm down - you’d been holding everything in for too long - you were bound to bubble over and explode at some point. When you feel yourself come back to your body, Wally is still holding you. He’s stroking your head and whispering comforts to you. You don’t deserve him, you think.

He’s still rubbing your back when you pull away to look at him, but you’re distracted by the wet spot on his sweatshirt - the light grey darkened by your tears.

“Oh,” you whisper, your voice cracking from how long it’s been since you’ve spoken, “I’m sorry.”

Wally’s eyes widen, not prepared for you to start talking, and he jumps to console you. “Woah, hey, don’t even worry about it. This ratty old thing? I’ve been wearing it for like, almost twenty years.” He giggles a bit, continuing, “I honestly think this is the closest this thing has been to a washing machine even longer than that, so. No sweat, promise.”

You nod, thanking him.

“Are you, like…” he trails off, not sure how to ask you if you’re okay. It’s a silly question, he knows that. “I remember the first time I saw my parents after I died. There was a vigil on the football field like a week after it happened. Everyone was there, and they were all crying and it was so weird. I didn’t feel dead yet, like I hadn’t accepted that it really happened.”

“That must’ve been really hard for you, Wally. I’m really sorry.” Your eyes meet, and he shrugs.

He smiles, a sad, nostalgic thing. He can’t tell you it’s okay, because it’s not. Instead, he goes to hold your hand. “I promise it will get better. It just takes some time. It’s gonna suck for a while, but we’re all here for you. I’m here for you.” His thumb rubs circles on the top or your hand, and you smile up at him.

“Thanks, Wally. I really appreciate it.” Your interconnected hands are grounding you. It’s the first time you’ve felt a semblance of peace since you died. “Do you mind if we sit here for a little bit? It’s quiet, I don’t want to leave yet.” He nods, and the two of you just sit there.

Just like Wally said it would, it gets easier.

You start going to more of the meetings with Mr. Martin, and you actually start participating. It was weird at first - you thought people would make a big deal out of your finding your voice again, but they just smiled, proud of your growth. Wally has been your biggest cheerleader, but they’re all really supportive. Even Rhonda, though she still sports her gloomy demeanor.

When they fix up the stage and clear the crime scene tape, the school holds your vigil there. Wally is right there with you in the audience, holding your hand while your parents speak. Your theatre teacher speaks too, and talks highly of you. Your brightness, the passion you had for theatre. When she says you had a beautiful voice, that you could’ve been somebody, she directs it at your parents. They agree, it seems.

There are still days where it's really hard. You retreat back into your shell, refusing to leave the auditorium or speak to anyone. Wally's patience with you is endless, and when you allow him to stay with you, he spends all day cracking jokes to help you feel better.

One day, instead of letting you isolate yourself, he drags you out onto the football field to get some sun. "We don't really need vitamin D anymore, but I really think it'll help. C'mon, the sun on your skin? Wind in your hair? Can't beat that, babe." He leads you out onto the field - one hand clasped in yours and the other holding a backpack.

The pet names are a new thing, but you don't mind it. He'd slipped one day, called you sweetheart, and immediately backtracked and apologized profusely. All you could do was laugh and call him cute.

"Where did you even get that?" you giggle, following him to a spot under a tree near the edge of the field. "Did you steal that from someone?"

He drops your hand to bring it to his own chest, offended at your assumption. "Me? Steal? I can't believe you'd think so lowly of me," he plops onto the grass, patting the spot next to him, "Yeah I totally stole it, emptied it out, and then filled it with a shit ton of snacks and drinks so we could have a picnic out here." He unzips the bag, pulling out at least ten different bags of chips and candy bars.

"This is really sweet, Wally," you can feel your face heat up, though hopefully it'll just look like it's because of the heat. "It's like a date, almost." His head shoots up to look at you, pink dusting his cheeks and ears.

"Y-yeah, if you want it to be. If you think you're ready for that kind of thing." He stutters, a nervous boyish thing. He's the sweetest person ever.

“I am, I think,” you nod while you’re talking, like you’ve made up your mind, “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” Wally ducks his head down, chin meeting his chest. He’s fully blushing now - it’s the cutest thing you’ve seen in a long time.

“C’mere,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and maneuvering your body so your back is pressed up against his chest, head resting in the space between his head and shoulder, “is this okay?”

You turn your head to try and look at him, and he angles his towards you. His face is inches from yours, and if you had a heartbeat, it’d be beating wildly right now. You can almost feel it, the pitter patter of it in your chest. Your hand comes up to cradle his cheek, rubbing your thumb over the space under his eye. You nod, and move in to kiss him.

His lips are so soft, and the way they move in conjunction with yours provides much needed relief. You stay like that for a few minutes, and when you’re done, he rests his forehead against yours. Eyes closed, feeling the gentle breeze sweeping up the hill you’re sitting on. You never had anything like this when you were still alive, the easy conversation and back and forth banter. He’s your new safe space. You don’t have to worry about anything when you’re with him.

“This is perfect.”

a/n: wally clark is actually so special to me and when i think about him for too long i get very emotional. my shayla. i wrote this in the span of like a day and a half so if there are any mistakes i'm sorry LMAO

if you liked this story, please like and reblog!! it'd mean the world to me, even if you just drop a silly comment. i want to write more for wally because he desperately needs more stories on here.

#wally clark #wally clark x reader #school spirits #wally clark imagine #i love that golden retriever man so much

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bunny-jpeg · 5 hours ago

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sinful sentences (twelve)

mark webber - "tell me exactly what you want."

tags: smut/pwp, porn au, pornstar!mark & reader, daddy kink, age gap (mid-20s/late-40s), dom!mark, sub!reader, filming, aftercare, doggy style, dirty talk/degrading language, intense bdsm (there is a safe-word)

sinful sentences catalogue

"chin up, beautiful." mark's words were in your head as your gae was leveled with the camera in your face. you stuck out your chest a little more and stuck out your bottom lip in a pout.

the audience ate it up. a little starlet in the amateur porn scene with your lover, mark webber. both of you starring in hits such as "bad girl finally meets her match" and "bratty bottom finally gets the daddy she asked for". both played up your size and age differences. you in your mid-twenties and mark pushing fifty. he even let the greys come in a little to make the differences more striking.

younger woman who gets fucked silly by an older man with a dirty talk that would make anyone watching blush. and despite most of your fucking being on camera, mark was proud that you were all his.

he roughly patted your cheek and said, "tell me exactly what you want. tell the lovely people at home too. i'm sure they want to know what whorish thing you want tonight." he made a small 'tsk' noise and pinched your cheek, "answer me, baby. hate to put you over my knee tonight. still bruised from last night."

your ass was still marked purple, with mark's hand print seen at a certain light. he made quite the mess of you the night prior. your sex was intense, mark liked to bite you, mark you. the time he wore his name across your chest and had you bounce on his cock till he finished inside of you. he liked to bind you, gag you, blindfold you. he had a collection of toys that your gummy little pussy was quite familiar with.

it was filth, the kind of porn that would make the deepest pervert blush. mark held your face and made you look at the camera, his thumb trailed across your bottom lip before he sank it into your plush mouth. and you obeyed and sucked on it like you would his cock.

"dirty little thing, aren't ya? so cute. look at you. daddy's little stupid whore. i'm glad i got you out of whatever small town hell you came from, probably would've been the town slut by now. legs more open than a mcdonalds." he chuckled lightly. he took his thumb out and petted your hair roughly, "but instead you're allowed to be a total whore in my home. was worried an old man like me wouldn't be able to keep up with you. but i think i make it work. don't you think?"

and you nodded, there was heavy heat in your cheeks while you remained on your knees. your hands in your lap, obscuring your pussy from the cold gaze of the camera. you were certain your audience could identify you from your pussy alone.

"good girl. good girl." mark purred, "keep daddy happy, huh? trained you just right. if you tried to fuck another man you'd be lost. but you don't want to run off do you?" he pulled his hand away to grope and the hard-on in his jeans, "daddy won't let that happen. you'd be a lost little puppy out on the streets. have to put up posters to bring you home."

you felt your core tense, you were soaked and it excited you. his words were like extra spicy honey, it burned as it soaked into your mind. it left your stomach in knots as you anticipated for what was to come next. you'd take it eagerly.

"pretty thing, huh? look at you. always perfect for the cameras. i bet so many perverts online jerk off to you every day. wishing they were in my spot right now. too bad for them, because only i get to ruin you, right?"

you nodded and replied, "yes, daddy."

"good girl, not use the last of that brain of yours to get on the bed before i fuck it out of you. and don't you dare touch yourself. that's my property." his voice was low and radiated through you. it made you only more wet. your slick dampened your inner thighs as you got up and headed to the bedroom.

the video stopped and mark only resumed it now on a tripod with the both of you stark naked. the viewer could see the crudely writing on your upper thigh, "belongs to mark. don't touch." a possessive warning in sharpie. you knelt on the bed facing the camera. a full display of your slutty body.

mark was behind you, his large hands on your form. he felt you up while he kissed your neck. occasionally he glanced at the camera and would smirk at it. he loved to record and post videos of you two fucking like animals, but he still had a throb of jealousy in his soul that was only cured by plunging his cock deep inside of you.

"tell the people at home how it feels. i bet they'd love to reach through the screen and feel how soft you are. cute little thing aren't you? obedient like a bitch. a fucking dog." he purred.

you swallowed, "daddy."

"shh, shh. don't talk. good girls don't talk, they listen. no need to run that mouth of yours or else i might find something better to fill it with. keep you gagging on something to shut you up." he said as he played with your nipples which made you squeeze your thighs together, "because you're a whore, right? sell videos of me fucking you. disgusting."

you whimpered, "please, daddy. i am a good girl."

mark chuckled lowly, "not too sure about that. you like being degraded. you like being marked up, you love being used by me. should write 'cum dump' on you next time. show everyone how much of a slut you are. owned piece of ass." he patted your thigh where the writing was.

you yelped as your face collided with the bed with your bare ass up. it was leveled with his heavy cock, he was thick to the point that you had to be soaked to take him. thankfully tonight he was able to sink into you without any issues.

your pussy like a vice around his cock as he shoved your face into the covers. you let him use your body as he so desired. he rocked up into you and yanked your hair to face the camera.

"give them a show, angel. or else they might turn off." he said as he held onto your head while he fucked up into your sweet little cunt. it was soaked. your dirty kink was that you got off to it being rough. you loved mark's rough hands on your skin as he worked his cock into you.

you whimpered as he fucked you, you tried to keep your eyes open but the pleasure made them flutter closed. mark felt like he was shifting things in your body, bruising your insides in a way that made you shudder.

"take it, fuck. that's right, angel. give our viewers something to get off to. that's all your good for. stupid girl who only thinks about cock and how to get it. must be why i have a collar and a short leash to keep you on."

you panted, your mouth open as you tried to get as much air as you could into your lungs. you held onto the covers and arched your back as he battered your insides. it was intense, the kind of intensity that made your toes curled.

but what made your core throb even more was when mark leaned in to you and said softly, "remember, rose. if it all gets too much, remember our safe word." rose. all that needed to said in order to end the scene. his voice was low enough that the camera didn't pick it up.

you nodded and kept your head up as he fucked you deeply. his cock brushed up against all the right places. it felt like a tight fit as he worked himself against you. it made your brain buzzed from the strong thrusts he moved against you.

"look at yourself, baby. can you see that in the viewfinder? the way you shake when i fuck you. like you were made for this. the entire internet has see your fat tits and your pretty pussy. but none of them will ever taste you. right? because you're mine, you belong to daddy."

"yes." you whimpered.

"say it, angel. c'mon, use those big girl words of yours." he smacked your ass as he pushed your face right into the covers, he held you by the back of your neck as he fucked you feverishly.

you whimpered, not even able to be heard. your voice muffled by the covers. mark already knew the answer, you were his. you belonged to him and only him. he was being generous and sharing with the public every curve, every mole and dimple on your bare skin. he made a mess of you for the camera because he allowed it. he could be quite the giving man.

the pleasure was a buzz in your brain, it was heat in your blood. it made your head spin as you panted pathetically onto the bed. everything washed over you.

"cum for me, baby. i can feel you. you feel good." he purred as he yanked your hair once more, "come on, angel. cum for the camera." his hips worked against you, his cock throbbed inside of your achy cunt as he pulled an orgasm out of you. he heard your sweet noises as you climaxed which only made him move faster.

his cock ached inside of you, he fucked you quickly. he held your face towards the camera and made you that all the viewers were focused on how good he made you feel.

"look at you. internet's favourite whore. my favourite whore." he bounced you up against his cock quickly. he tensed up for a moment as he felt the pleasure swirl in his brain. he gave a few more rough strokes before he finished inside of you.

you moaned once more before the scene ended. you felt distant as pleasure filled your core. you felt mark pull out then work to end the video to edited later.

the porn personas faded away as mark said to you softly, "are you okay, honey?" you looked up at him through bleary eyes and gave him a thumbs up. he ruffled your hair and said, "let's get you cleaned up."

"can you get me some more ice cream? this is really good." you stayed curled up with your lover in bed, you were dressed in a fluffy white robe and your hair was wet from a steamy bath. you were both seated up but you had your bare legs across his lap. in your hands was a pint of ice cream.

mark took you gently my the head and kissed the top of your head, "sorry, pumpkin, that's it till we go grocery shopping tomorrow. plus, it's late. i don't want you having a stomach ache."

"but honey." you pouted at him.

he shook his head and took you by the cheeks to kiss you on the lips, "don't wanna hear it, angel. finish up then brush your teeth. if you feel any aches tomorrow, i'll run you a bath."

that was what you liked about mark. no matter how intense the scene was. how much he put you through, he would make sure that you were okay after filming. a good dominant never left his submissive out to dry after a scene.

he could degrade you, smack you, spit on you, ruin you in every way as long as you didn't use the safe word or signal. and then always afterwards he spoiled you. because you may be a raunchy star, but you'd always be mark's good girl. <3

#bunny writes #sinful sentences #reader insert #formula 1 #formula one imagine #formula one smut #f1 smut #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #formula one #mark webber x y/n #mark webber x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber smut #mark webber

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adieutristana · 2 days ago

Note

Could you do a second part of the request for Sevica's niece x Jinx? I would love to know what happened with Reader and Powder

Please 💞

of course! thank you for the request <3

i’m no longer quarantined (yaaaay!) but that means back to regular posting pace, sorry :( hope u guys enjoyed 4 fics in half a week.

this is a part 2 to this fic! this will be the final part of this story, i hope it's not obvious but i was struggling with the direction

characters included; jinx, powder (act iii au), sevika (familial), ekko (platonic)

summary; you and powder make amends, though you know that you have to get back to your universe.

tags/warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, s2 spoilers, mentions of drinking and smoking, powder majority of the story, angsty in the beginning, jinx at the end, brief arguing, universe hopping or whatever that's called, happy bonus at the end

men dni.

"all done,"

you smile, putting your hands out behind powder in a grand gesture that says 'ta-da.' pink ribbons adorn azure locks, carefully woven into both of her twin braids. a nod to the pink streak through her hair, and frankly- she looks beautiful. you don't want to stroke your ego, but you did a damn good job.

tension still hangs in the air, but seems to slowly slip with every second that passes. powder's jealousy is on the backburner for now as she looks over her hair in the mirror, her eyes curious. the sight is bittersweet. she looks happy, enamored with her new hair. a smile is tugging at the corners of powder's glossed lips, and those blue eyes are looking up at yours with such merriness. the braiding seemed to do the trick.

though the twin braids bring you back to jinx, your jinx. it's a delicate balance, a sort of tug-of-war in your mind. on one hand, this powder looks genuinely happy. she isn't the broken down girl you know and love. her cheeks are fuller, her skin has more color to it, she's taller, her smiles are more frequent, and they're real. the version of you whose body you're occupying clearly loves her, and she clearly loves this alternate you in return.

you love her back, at least you think you do. this is still jinx, just... less tortured. or rather, jinx is the distortion of powder. it's confusing, really, and you don't think you can spend too much time thinking about it before your brain starts to hurt.

you could grow used to this, if you allowed yourself to. but you knew you couldn't, not when jinx was waiting on you. probably worrying herself absolutely sick. you'd promised your girlfriend you'd be back soon, a few hours tops. but it'd been much longer than that by now, the next morning having come and gone.

you knew jinx and how she thought. she'd probably fully convinced herself by now that you were gone. that you'd disappeared into the lanes or maybe even piltover to find yourself someone better, just to leave her to wither. no matter how many times you swore to the girl that you would never, the insecurities still lingered in the back of her mind. they were likely at the forefront now.

"damn, i look... good," powder starts, pulling you out of your daze. she lets out a light chuckle, a mix of a gasp and laugh. "never thought i'd see you play hairstylist, but you did pretty great."

you give a gentle smile in return, situating yourself behind powder in the mirror and draping your arms around her waist. you place your chin on her shoulder her smile widens and she gives a satisfied 'hmm' sound, powder's head leading to the side against yours. a picture-perfect couple if you've ever seen one.

but it isn't real. at least, this iteration isn't. part of you wishes it was, wishes that you had something with the powder you knew as a little girl. in a zaun better than you could've ever imagined. you wished so badly that this is who powder became in your world, instead of jinx; as much as you loved her. but no matter. 'no use in dwelling,' your aunt would tell you in times like these.

though you knew that wasn't the case, and the other part of you felt that this was wrong. even though you're in her place, you're not the one powder loves- not really. a different version of her, sure, but you can't help feeling like you're lying to powder.

yet, what are you supposed to do? tell her the truth, that you'd somehow ended up in a parallel universe where things were remarkably better than the one you'd come from? that the version of her you knew and loved had been mistreated and neglected for much of her teenage years, only to go on to become a pyromaniac? that zaun had somehow moved backwards?

you nuzzle closer to powder's touch, the scent of strawberry shampoo and fruity perfume filling your senses. you supposed you could keep this charade going for a little longer, at least until you figured out how to return to your home universe.

the way powder is looking at you through your shared reflection and smiling, so at peace, you know that this isn't all bad. you may not be the one powder knows, but you can act the part. you can make her happy. you can indulge for a little bit.

"somethin' on your mind, babe?"

she asks, her smile unwavering. you shake your head in response, your grip around her waist tightening the slightest bit.

"no, just looking at you." you hum. "you look beautiful right now, you know."

"oh yeah? what about the rest of the time?"

powder reaches behind her to playfully poke your side, earning a short giggle from you. you shake your head in mock resignation, giving an amused huff.

"you look great all the time. i just happen to think i enhanced that beauty a bit."

you chuckle. powder rolls her eyes, her smile never faltering.

"miss humble over here. braided my hair once, and now her ego's off the charts."

she jests. you're quickly coming to recognize these playful jabs as a way the girl shows affection. it's not far off from jinx at all. but still, this moment of holding powder from behind, feeling the quiet warmth of her body against yours and seeing that smile in the mirror. you wish that you could freeze this moment in time, frame it even. capture it so that it never slips away from you. though again, you know this won't last. it can't.

✧.*

"any developments?"

"we've got... something."

ekko offers, his tone more resigned than you'd hope to hear right now. you let out an exasperated sigh, your gaze falling to the ground of the dank alleyway. though you raise your hand and wave off, a gesture to urge your friend to continue.

"heimerdinger and i are trying to work on a time machine. something that can rewind time a little, maybe even bring us back."

he says, though he sounds uncertain. you can't say you blame him, necessarily. this entire situation is so confusing.

"when will it be done?"

you ask, eyes wide and looking into his as a sort of silent plea. a heavy sigh escapes ekko, and he slowly shakes his head.

"i don't know. i'm sorry, just... these things take time."

"i don't have time." you plead. "jinx is probably back home, already convinced that i up and left. hell, she's probably figuring out some kind of revenge plot while we're talking."

any other time, those words would be a joke, but now your tone is anything but joking. you know deep in you that jinx is a wreck right now, even if you're not physically with her. not to mention your aunt, not to mention the way of life that you're used to.

"i'm sure she is. and the firelights probably aren't doing much better."

it's true, they're most likely not. no hextech here, no firelights, no jinx, no shimmer ravaging the streets. from the outside looking in, you two would be seen as idiots to have something so good, and want to throw it away for the fucked-up place you'd come from. but jinx was too important to you, ekko's work too important to him. you pause. you'd been sleeping at powder's, but with the absence of the tree and bases in this version of zaun, you couldn't help but worry for your friend.

"where are you staying, by the way?"

"on campus at the academy. the dorms are pretty nice, actually. there's a kitchen, laundry room, and lounge in the building, so i'm all set."

you nod slowly. you should've figured, with him being one of the academy's most esteemed inventors in this world. but still, it was nice to hear that he wasn't just sleeping on benzo's couch.

"you're staying with powder?"

"nope. i'm an apartment owner here, apparently."

"no shit," he breathes out, a bewildered expression on the boy's face. neither of you could've imagined having your own space in zaun of all places, so to know that it was possible.. wow.

silence hangs in the air for a moment, and you're not sure what else could be used to fill it. what else is there to talk about, really? the impending sense of dread both of you have, or the lingering anxiety that you'll be trapped in this reality forever?

"just... keep me updated, okay?" you sigh. "i just want to get back and tell jinx that everything is okay. no matter how nice all of this is."

"when we make progress, you'll be the first to know. we're getting somewhere, i promise. it's in the beginning stages, but i can't do anything when i don't have the means yet." he pauses. "you understand."

you do understand. you don't necessarily have room to not understand right now. he still looks uncertain, but he's giving you a gentle smile in an attempt to reassure you. it doesn't do much for your nerves necessarily, but it's a kind gesture regardless. now all there is to do is wait. gods, you hated waiting, but what other choice did you have?

you quickly exchange addresses in the case of developments or an emergency, before parting.

✧.*

powder had told you to meet her at her hideout, instead of her apartment. that's something that hadn't changed, at least. even in this universe, powder had found and made use of the wind turbine structure you'd see jinx turn into her home. it was different, of course, there were railings around the metal blades.

the decorations were easier on the eyes, much more inviting. although it was still very true to her usual chaotic manner, with messy decorations strewn across the space. her signature crude drawings decorate her dresser, her desk, old makeup palettes scattered around anywhere that'll house them.

but the most striking difference was the altar set up on one of the platforms, dedicated to vi. her big sister, who you'd seen alive and well just days prior. only in passing, but still. your girlfriend's relationship with her sister was strained at best, a near-fatality at worst. but something told you that if jinx knew her sister was gone in a parallel universe, if she was gone in your universe, she'd be utterly destroyed.

but not powder. powder was still fragile, you could see it in the way her jaw clenched at certain words, the way her eyes flitted when she got in her head. but powder could handle it. she didn't let it consume her, like jinx did. she didn't necessarily have a choice when it came to her state, but it was still an interesting contrast.

"hey, you!" powder beams, throwing her arms around you from behind. she presses a flurry of rushed kisses your jawline and cheek, then ending with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "took ya long enough! what's with the hold up?"

"sorry, babe. just got a little sidetracked."

you hum, leaning into the touch. you turn around in powder's embrace, looking into those sapphire eyes that could make anyone weak. you capture the girl's lips in a chaste, yet sweet kiss. a fleeting moment, but you put all of the affection that you can into it.

"sidetracked? with what?" she asks. "you're always the focused one."

you purse your lips, and you try to think of a good excuse. you were with ekko is where you where, but you can't tell powder that. not after the outburst she'd had just a day prior. but what if she found out anyways? wouldn't it be better for her to find out from you directly, rather than being told by a bystander?

you'll tell her the truth. she knows you and him are just friends. she knows that.

"i was talking to ekko."

you mutter, and powder's expression immediately hardens. like a switch being flipped, her smile falters, and her grip around you loosens.

"oh."

"powder, we were just talking." you plead, your hand running through your hair.

"yeah. just talking, i know."

she says, although it's clear that she's not fully convinced. she shakes her head, a deep exhale escaping her.

"talking about what, though?"

she asks, and your heart nearly drops. you can't lie to her, not while she's in this state. you've seen it. jinx slips into it more often than you can bear- trying to hold herself together whilst her emotions are threatening to bubble to the surface and explode.

you'd sound like a mad woman if you told her the truth. but what other choice did you have?

"look, pow," you start. "i'm gonna sound batshit crazy when i tell you this. but you have to listen to me."

your tone is stern, a 'no-bullshit' air about you. powder nods slowly in agreement, and waits silently for you to continue.

"i'm not... from here," you begin.

"huh? you've always been in zaun."

she's tilting her head in that confused way, and it's adorable- but you have to focus.

"no, no. i know that," you say, scrambling to find the right words. "i mean... this world. i came from a parallel universe or whatever they call it, and i have no idea how to get back. it's the same with ekko. everything is the same here, but different."

you sigh, pausing to catch your breath as you ramble on. powder's eyebrows are furrowed, yet she doesn't interrupt you. she's listening intently. that's a good start, you suppose.

"i mean, zaun is somewhere livable. people whose corpses i've seen are standing right in front of me, and there's none of that fucked-up tech there is where i come from. and you're different. you're happy, and you're healthy. the version of you that i know is someone i don't think you'd recognize."

your shoulders slump, and you're growing more restless as you talk. it's a word-vomit of sorts. you know you probably sound out of your damn mind to the girl in front of you, but you just can't stop now that you've started.

"and i love her. i really do. and i love you, but it feels like i'm lying to you, because i'm not the me that you love. i'm just in her body right now, and i'm trying to figure out how to give it back."

it’s odd, baring your feelings like this to a girl you simultaneously know like the back of your hand and don’t know at all. if powder was looking at you before, she’s looking through you now.

“…please say something.”

you breathe out. powder presses her lips into a thin line, her gaze finally parting from yours.

“say i believe all of this. say it’s true, and you’re not making up some crazy story to shut me up. if i asked ekko what you were talking about, would he have the same story?”

“yes, powder. he would.”

she lets out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. powder’s expression is unreadable at best, though she doesn’t seem angry. just… confused. shocked. in disbelief, maybe even denial. though before you can say much more, there’s a knock at powder’s door.

“i’ll get it,” she mutters, turning over her shoulder. she makes her way to the door slowly, turning the knob and opening it to ekko of all people.

“what are you doing here?”

“here for your girlfriend.” he says, hoping that’ll suffice. you’d told him that powder was jealous and he’d need to tread lightly, hopefully placing emphasis on the word ‘girlfriend’ would leave a good impression on her. “we just need a minute to talk. i’ll give her right back, i swear.”

powder pauses for a moment, scanning over his expression for any hints of deception or trickery. but as usual, there is none. just someone who wants to have a conversation with her girlfriend, even though that certain someone is one she’s been wary of. she sighs.

“babe, ekko’s here for you!”

she calls out. you make your way to your feet, striding towards the door while your friend comes into view. his demeanor doesn't give anything away, but he typically doesn't just... show up at people's doors. not the ekko you know. so this must be something important. powder steps aside, allowing ekko into the hideout and turns around.

"i'll be here when you're done," she says, glancing over her shoulder before returning to her desk.

ekko gives one more cautious look to the girl, before turning his attention to you.

"right."

you purse your lips, anticipating his next words.

"we've got something. it wasn't easy doing it, and it won't be easy to get back, but we can do it now." he says, his sentences rushed. "we can do it whenever you're ready- now, if you want."

you quirk an eyebrow.

"now?"

"only if you want to."

you shake your head slowly, wordlessly, crossing your arms in contemplation. you'd definitely prefer to get back to jinx as soon as possible, but now you're having second thoughts. god, after all that you'd done and thought about this entire time, now you're having second thoughts? you confuse yourself, you think. but none of this situation makes much sense to begin with.

"i... yeah. sure." you pause, drawing a sharp breath in. "but what happens to the other me? like, the one that's here?"

ekko's eyebrows knit together, and he takes a moment to consider your question. mentally going over everything that he'd gathered, and everything heimerdinger had told him.

"i think we'd go back to how we were- our other selves, i mean. it was just.. us in their bodies for a while, but they'll go back to normal. they should, anyways."

"what if they don't?"

"listen. do you wanna go back, or not?"

god damn, he's right. this is what you've both been wanting from the start, and while you worry for your other self, you have to put this first.

but still. powder. you barely know this version of her, but you know that she's a good person. a smart girl who loves and gives. she deserves to be happy, she deserves the version of you that she knows and loves so dearly. you can only hope that she'll return to powder after you're gone.

"...yeah. let's do it." you murmur. "but i want to say goodbye to powder first."

he nods, and tilts his head in the girl's direction as if to cue you to go on. you manage a weak smile in his direction, before walking over to powder. your heart's beat in your chest is akin to a war drum, ringing in your ears and making your hands shake.

"hey, pow." you sigh, prompting her to turn her head towards you from... drafting blueprints? what exactly is she doing?- doesn't matter right now. "i'm going back. to where i came from, i mean. i'll be gone for a little bit, but.. everything will go back to normal. you'll have your girlfriend back, your real girlfriend, and i'll be in a place i know."

her blue eyes flit downwards, and she frowns. but still, she manages to slowly nod in acknowledgement.

"okay."

is all that she can manage, and she sounds defeated. it breaks your heart, seeing her like this. you step forward, cautiously wrapping your arms around the girl's shoulders in a gentle embrace.

"everything will be okay." you whisper, feeling her arms encircle your waist. "you deserve to be happy, powder."

✧.*

you're back.

oh, shit, you're back.

you spring to your feet, having been planted smack in the middle of a busy zaun street. passersby speed past you, vendors are loudly shouting to advertise their products, and loud music can be heard in the distance.

all that occupies your mind in this moment is jinx, jinx, jinx. anything else- the fact that it feels like you haven't eaten in days, your muscles are sore from whatever the hell that time machine had done to you, or the fact that you feel like you may collapse at any moment from exhaustion are of no significance to you. you have to find you, you have to see her and know that she's okay, tell her that you're okay.

your first stop is jinx's hideout. she's almost always there, running around while tinkering with some new weapon or conspiring her next big job. but as soon as the door swings open, a deafening silence hits you. one that's uncharacteristic for your girlfriend, the only time she's ever quiet is when she's sleeping- and she doesn't get much of that.

you scramble through the different platforms, looking under large structures- lifting up blankets, looking in her cot, her beat-up couches, but there's no trace of the girl.

so you make your way to the lanes, where you figure jinx may be causing destruction. all you find is shimmer dealers and street rats scrounging for scraps.

your last hope is the last drop. jinx doesn't tend to venture much. she wouldn't be in piltover for anything right now, she doesn't walk through zaun's streets to window shop or sightsee. she sticks to her areas of interest, occasionally venturing out to tag walls, fight, or look for materials. if she wasn't there, you couldn't begin to think of where she would be. you didn't want to think of that.

you push the heavy door of the tavern open, immediately struck with the smell of liquor and stench of smoke, the sound of patrons chatting away and playing card games in the company of friends.

you scan the bar counter, the tables, the bits of the kitchen you can see, but she isn't here either. you can hardly believe what you're seeing. nine times out of ten, jinx is somewhere within the confines of these locations you've searched, but it's as if she's vanished.

however, you do see a familiar face- that of your aunt. tucked away in a dark corner of the bar at a small wooden table, filling out a stack of paperwork.

"sevika."

you start, a brow quirked and your arms crossed.

"not even an 'aunt' at beginning?" sevika jests, not looking up from the papers in front of her. she's scribbling something away, likely to do with the late silco's businesses, but no matter. you don't have time to ask what she's up to, and frankly you don't care either.

"where is she?" you demand, taking a seat across from the woman. "i've looked in the hideout, the lanes, and now here, but she's nowhere."

"where were you?" sevika bites back. the flips to another page, the pen scratching against paper almost obnoxiously. you wince at her tone, slowly shrinking into yourself- though you can't exactly explain that to her.

"that's a long story. a lot happened."

you sigh, bracing your elbows on the wood before you.

"spare me no details," she says, sarcasm lacing her words. "she's worried sick. jinx was asking me all yesterday and the night before where you were, what you were doing, because she'd heard nothing from you. but i didn't know anything, and i still don't. you're grown now, and you can handle yourself. but as your aunt, i'm supposed to know these things. by the way," she pauses, her gaze lifting to meet yours.

"walking out on a girl like jinx isn't a good idea. she's not in a good way."

"i didn't walk out on her, auntie."

she huffs, placing her pen down on the stack before her. she's got an eyebrow raised in that way she does so often, but there's still a softness to her gaze. you're family. while she's not particularly happy with you right now, especially since she's the one who has to take care of jinx in your absence, she's still forgiving.

"i don't have a clue where she could be right now, kid. but she'll be back at that hideout of hers soon enough. i'd just wait."

it's not the answer you'd like to hear; you've got a one-track mind focused solely on jinx right now. but it'll suffice. she's right, she always does eventually return there.

"...thanks, auntie sev."

"yeah, yeah. i've got work to do. go be with your girlfriend."

she concedes, making a 'shoo' motion with her prosthetic hand.

✧.*

you jump to your feet off of the torn plush couch the moment jinx steps into view in her hideout.

"jinx."

her head nearly snaps in your direction, and she runs over to you with alarming speed. she's always been a swift girl, but you don't know if you've ever seen her this urgent.

"baby? is that you?"

she breathes out, standing directly in front of you. wide magenta eyes look into yours, and you nearly begin crying on the spot. your arms throw around the girl's slender frame before you can think. you hold her tight to you, as if you're afraid that she'll disappear if you let go. usually it's her holding you like this, shaking like a leaf and struggling to keep it together, but there's a first for everything.

"yes, yes, it's me. i'm here."

"what happened? i... thought you left." her voice cracks on the last word, afraid and insecure.

"i would never. trust me. a lot happened, i'll explain later, just..."

there's a pause for a moment as you pull back slightly, before closing the distance to press your lips to jinx's. your lips move together in a slow, gentle, desperate rhythm, and you try to put all of your current feelings into them.

i missed you.

i'm sorry.

i'm never leaving.

i love you.

you slowly pull back, your eyes welling with tears threatening to spill at any moment.

"i didn't mean for any of this to happen, i promise you. i never meant to leave you, i told you i'd be back in a few hours and i wasn't." you whisper, a tear spilling and slipping down your cheek. your arms tighten around jinx, and you can tell from the way her breathing is growing labored. she's not upset, just so damn overwhelmed. "i love you, jinx, so much."

another chaste kiss to her lips to emphasize your words.

"are you okay?"

"i... yeah. i'm okay. i just didn't know if you were coming back." she trails off, voice raspy and weak. those words hit you like a punch to the gut, no matter the fact that you'd seen them coming. you hate seeing jinx so torn up, and you hate being the cause of that.

"i'll always come back, babe." you whisper, holding jinx's gaze. you slowly move your hands to rest atop her shoulders. "let's go do something."

"do what?"

"i don't know. anything," you say, your eyes hopeful. "i just need to be with you. i'll tell you everything, and we can do whatever you want. i just missed you."

jinx purses her lips for a moment, a little 'hmm' coming from her as she thinks over the possibilities. she thinks of things in her hideout, but she senses that you want to go out into the city right now. there's a lot of shops, but she's never been one to frequent them. an abandoned warehouse with fireworks.

"i know a place,"

she declares, taking your dominant hand from her shoulder and holding it in hers.

"shall we?"

✧.* bonus!

"oh, screw you!" powder giggles, flour dusting her cheeks.

"i didn't mean to!"

the alternative you is back in her body. she's got no memory of what happened the past two days, all she remembers is waking up in powder's arms to the sight of tears running down pale cheeks. you hadn't sustained any injuries, no scarring, but you were just... gone. you couldn't recount anything.

"it said put the flour in the mixing bowl, not on my face, you goof!"

you're together in your cramped kitchen trying to figure out a recipe, one of vander's that he'd written down for powder. strawberry shortcake, one of her childhood favorites that vander claims she used to beg him for. she vehemently denies this, and you go along with her whims, but you can't help inwardly laughing at the thought of a little powder begging her dad to bake for her.

"it was a mistake, pow! i swear!"

she rolls her eyes, but the hysterical giggles coming from her girlfriend tell you that she's not really angry. she shakes her head, taking the paper in her hands again to reread the instructions. she plucks a wooden spoon from one of your drawers, keeping her eyes focused on the paper.

"so it says to mix the dry ingredients, then we get started on wet."

"yeah, that's usually how it works when you bake things."

powder grunts, and a light smack lands on your shoulder, prompting another fit of laughter from you.

"my bad for not having experience with this! you said you were gonna make it, so we're making it."

you snort in response, gently taking the recipe from her hands and looking over it yourself. you set down the paper on the counter as she begins mixing the dry ingredients in the bowl- a pink and blue clay one that she'd made especially for you. it wasn't the ideal size for most of your baking endeavors, but you'd never tell your dear girlfriend that. it was perfect, because it was hers.

"i'm happy to make whatever you want, babe. just say the word." you hum, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek before striding to your fridge to retrieve a few wet ingredients.

"anything? anything, anything?"

she asks, looking back at you. her hand is still working.

"anything you want."

"i've heard macarons are really hard. would you make those for me?"

you chuckle lightly, placing a carton of eggs, milk, and strawberries on the counter.

"they wouldn't be pretty, i'm sure. but i'd make them for you."

powder lets out a happy squeal, before turning to you and stepping aside to show you her work.

"i think i'm done mixing." she smiles. "i didn't mess it up, did i?"

you shake your head lightly, a playful lilt to your tone whilst searching your overhead cupboards for a second bowl.

"you did great. it's just dry ingredients, not hard to mix those. the wet ingredients can get a bit tricky, though."

powder rolls her eyes and groans, prompting a laugh from you.

"it's not that bad. come on, let's get started on that. as soon as we're done, you'll have that strawberry shortcake."

#jinx x reader #powder x reader #arcane x reader #arcane x you #reader insert #sapphic #i am not proud of this one sorry

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smolkooks · 2 days ago

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joshua hong's recipe for valentine's

summary: jisoo knows you like the back of his hand. he hopes. (he does). which almost makes asking you out for valentine’s day even more intimidating.

pairing: joshua (svt) x you

genre: college au, fluff

“hey alexa,” joshua called out into the emptiness of his bedroom, “what the fuck am i supposed to do?”

the sound of jeonghan’s quip cut through the air before alexa could even process joshua’s complaint, “don’t think ai is equipped to help with your relationship problems.” jeonghan rounded the corner and popped his head through the door, an amused smirk quirking up the corner of his lips.

“there are no relationship problems!” joshua buried his hands in his hair, “there’s no relationship problems, that’s the problem,” his tone trailed off hopelessly as he banged his forehead onto the table hoping that the brief pain would knock some sense into his brain.

“haven’t you two known each other for like, most of college? i’m sure she won’t mind no matter what you do,” jeonghan offered, and joshua knew he was trying to be helpful but the advice only made him feel worse.

“you know that feeling,” joshua began, spinning around on his chair to face his friend, “when you know someone too well? when you feel like they’ve seen everything and nothing will surprise them? fuck, she’ll probably notice something in my expression the day before or like sniff me out when i slip up on a sentence or something.” usually, he loved how detail-oriented you were, but in moments like these, he wished you were a bit more oblivious.

“you’re giving her too much credit, man,” jeonghan said with a shrug, “don’t think she’s going to be that perceptive.” he appreciatively eyed the pastel bouquet and origami paper that joshua had strewn across his desk and then said, “there’s no way she’d see all of this coming.

“you don’t know her,” joshua groaned, already fearing the worst. he’d spent the better part of the week planning all your valentine’s day gifts—brainstorming and ripping his hair out and agitating over making every detail perfect. he was not about to let you sniff anything out or become at all suspicious beforehand.

he truly did know you too well, because his very first dilemma arose just an hour later, after jeonghan had left for his evening class and he was alone in his apartment, putting together your gift when his phone had pinged with a message.

from: y/nnie

josh wyd

to: y/nnie

lmao wtf so random

immediately he knew he’d fucked up. because texts at this time from you were a daily occurrence, and his response was too fucking unnatural. but unfortunately he’d been so preoccupied with folding origami puppies and tucking them into the bouquet he’d picked out earlier this morning and surprised by your text that he replied without thinking.

as he went to edit the message, your read receipt came through and he resisted the urge to cry as your typing bubble showed up.

from: y/nnie

don’t be weird...

from: y/nnie

if ur free i’m gonna come over i’m dropping something off

from: y/nnie

jeonghan said ur home

joshua’s eyes widened as he cast a glance over the ginormous mess on his desk. he’d been planning to meet you later tonight anyway, yes, but not immediately! he still had to put together the last of the origami animals and also finish off wrapping your actual gift...

but then again, if he said no, you would for sure instantly know something was up anyway, so there was absolutely no winning. not unless he became an origami monster immediately and finished your bouquet within the next five minutes.

panicked, he started to type a response:

to: y/nnie

give me like twenty min pls

from: y/nnie

alr

cya

tossing his phone onto his bed, he locked into the origami flower youtube video that he was up to. he didn’t think he’d ever been so focused before, not even during his final exams, not even during his driving test, not even ever. there were high stakes at play here, and he was not about to let all his plans fall apart. in fact, he tried to convince himself, you coming over was a blessing. the thought of seeing you did put a smile on his face, as stressed as he was about the lopsided paper tulips that he was currently mass producing.

within ten minutes, he’d tucked the final ones of his origami projects between the pastel petals of the bouquet he’d picked out earlier in the morning and began to survey his next project: the actual gift.

gritting his teeth determinedly, he set to work.

joshua was being weird, you’d decided, as you switched off your phone with a frown. why did it feel like he was so nervous? you visited him and jeonghan’s dorm all the time, it wasn’t like an out of the blue event, right...?

the doubts continued to cloud your train of thought as you surveyed the gifts that you’d prepared. flowers, of course, for your best boy. bead sets, a new phone case, matching smiski hippers for the two of you, his favourite snacks...you’d gotten everything he’d mentioned wanting. (except for the apartment by the seaside. you weren’t financially successful enough yet for that. one day).

as far as relationships went, yours and joshua’s was relatively fresh despite having known each other ever since the first week of freshman year. you’d been together for two months give or take, just in time to settle down for a proper valentine’s day—your first with a boyfriend, and you were determined to make it the best.

you’d even purposefully visited him almost every evening so that your visit today wouldn’t seem as suspicious. you hoped he wasn’t suspicious. as you switched your phone back on and read over your chats again, you realised maybe you did come across a little nervous...drop something off? you were lucky he didn’t question it today. it was so vague, and at the same time, lowkey obvious considering the date...

you hoped he’d overlook it.

the trek to joshua and jeonghan’s apartment wasn’t far at all. in fact, he lived one building down the road, so carrying all your gift boxes wasn’t that much of a hassle. you’d made the walk so often that you knew it better than the back of your hand, so when you arrived at his door, you couldn’t help the familiar smile that curved on your lips.

“josh!” you called out alongside your knock.

you heard his faint response and then some banging around before the door finally opened.

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!”

your overlapping voices made your eyes widen in shock. when you finally registered the sight in front of you, you realised joshua was also holding an armful of gifts—a massive bouquet of origami and real flowers blended together so prettily, and another bag of pristinely wrapped presents.

he seemed equally as shocked—his hair a little unkempt but still cute, glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he blinked at you through the doorway—at all of the stuff that you were holding out to him.

“y/n,” he managed, as you huffed a laugh of disbelief, “there’s—what—wait, i was going to surprise you.” he glanced down pointedly at all the things in his arms, and you laughed in earnest.

“you did, josh,” you said with an amused giggle, finally stepping into the apartment and letting joshua shut the door behind you, “i think we scared the shit out of each other.”

you set down the bouquet you’d brought on his dining table as he did the same to the bouquet he had prepared, before he was ushering you to sit down, a faint blush on his cheeks as he said, “i can’t believe this.”

“great minds think alike!” you exclaimed, as you noticed the little puppies he’d tucked into the flowers, “wait, josh, hold on—,” you did a double take as you looked closer at the bouquet, “did you put sonny angels in the flowers?”

he sat down beside you and rolled his eyes in an ‘obviously’ way, “they’re your favourite, aren’t they?”

“stop it,” you said in disbelief, your surprise continuing to multiply, “you’re so crazy josh. this is why i love you.”

“because of the sonny angels in the flowers?”

it was your turn to roll your eyes as you shoved him a little, “no, idiot. because we know each other too well.”

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shimohyo · 2 days ago

Text

Konfessions

I hate you

I hate you so so so so much.

Your actions make my very skin crawl, your cruel words are my nightmares every night. You make me sick just thinking about you.

I hate what you did,

I hate what you did to them.

You hurt those four, you killed two of them and those you left alive will never be the same.

You took away their pillars of safety, and now they are scrambling for an anchor to ground themselves with.

I hate hate hate how you acted. You acted like you didn’t even care! You didn’t care about the lives you had ruined!

So I hate you. I hate you with either fiber of my being, every bone in my body, every part of me hates you.

But I don’t hate you, do I? I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. It hurts that I love you. I hate the fact I love you because I should hate you. Because my brain tells me that I should hate you but my heart screams and scrambles for an explanation, reason, excuse, anything to justify your actions. To justify loving you.

You hurt so many people for something so so childish and stupid! You killed two people. You mutilated his body just to mess with and hurt his friend so so so much when he saw his best friend missing a head.

And you did that just for some convulsed plot to kill your ‘rival’! You killed her right in front of him. You drove him to stab you! You practically tortured him just to get at her. All for the sake of your stupid delusions!

Loving you feels like a sin. A horrible horrible horrible action. You hurt so many people. So many people I see everyday and talk to and I feel so wrong because I love you and they don’t and I’m in the wrong for loving you still!

….i wish i could just hate you….

….Maybe I don’t love you for you.

Maybe I love the idea of you. The you I thought I knew. The you that you showed to me to keep me on your side. The you that was a mask, just like the one you always wore, hiding your disgusting truth underneath it.

I hate the True you. The true you you showed everyone except me until the end. The true you who would mutilate a corpse to mess with others. Cut off someone’s head and tongues and disembowel him and oh god I’m about to throw up just remembering it.

I love your mask, but hate the real you. The you under your mask. The you that is bloodied underneath.

I don’t know if we’re going to be

Foxes our next lives.

You have a lot of sin to pay for after all.

Maybe I’ll join you down there.

For the sin of loving someone so terrible.

#tetro pink #tetro danganronpa #tetro danganronpa pink #tetro danganronpa spoilers #danganronpa tetro #watari nishino #okazaki hanano #wada masanari #tsuno manami #hasegawa ken #kamimura kazutoshi #character study #Sent this to my friends and family to show of my writing.#Forgot that it started with ‘I hate you’

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bluuscreen · 19 hours ago

Text

okay actually i’m gonna talk more about the seizures thing under the cut because i wanna get into it

first i’m gonna give the disclaimer that i personally have never had a seizure [afaik? though i feel like that’s something i would know] and i’m basing this purely on some cursory research, but i’m definitely open to input if anyone with more experience than me has any o7 this is also a sort of fantasy version of epilepsy since it’s caused by something supernatural, but i’m gonna try and keep it at least kinda grounded

sonic’s seizures are mostly caused by stress or fatigue. so if he overworks himself, doesn’t get enough sleep, etc. he’s at higher risk

this does mean he’s probably most liable to seize during battles and the various world-ending calamities that happen on a semi-regular basis. his friends end up setting up a system where he isn’t allowed to go in without backup anymore [even if it annoys him] and they’ll tag in to do the brunt of the fighting if he even looks like he’s getting a bit wobbly/spacey

if he does pass out/space out during battle the usual protocol is for tails, rouge, or shadow [because of flight and/or speed] to carry him somewhere safe, make sure he’s alright and set up with a book or a game to relax with once he’s conscious again, then get back to the fight if they’re still needed

his seizures mostly present like how the whole prism ghost thing looked after nine got the energy out of his body. falling to the ground, passing out, twitching/spasming, you get it. going by the descriptions that i’m reading on mayoclinic i think it’d be something akin to tonic or tonic-clonic?

starfall islands SUCKED for him both because he was stressed pretty much the whole time with very little help/rest and the cyber corruption made his symptoms way worse. he mainly experienced memory loss, fatigue, numbness, and brain fog, on top of his already present symptoms. amy, knuckles, tails and later sage had to keep reminding him of where he was and what he was supposed to be doing [this part could be considered canon [just slightly different circumstances] if we look at the voice lines that are shown in this video. looking at the comments it seems these lines weren’t actually cut, they just probably only play when sonic is idle for long enough. which ofc makes me wish the corruption had more consequences which is why i’m tying it in here]

the memory issues are somewhat of an ongoing problem, not really related to the seizures specifically but they are still related to the prism energy and later cyber corruption messing with his brain. his friends have had to get used to occasionally being called by the wrong name when sonics wires get crossed and he mixes them up with one of their shatter-selves. shadow is technically immune to this, but sonic has forgotten his name at least once and resorted to using nicknames for like twenty minutes until shadow noticed and reminded him

i’m not quite sure how sonic handles big fights once tails, amy and knuckles go off to travel the world after frontiers? honestly the most fun idea to me here is that eggman is like “yeah i’m evil but i’m not that much of an asshole” and just doesn’t cause any huge shit until he knows sonic has backup. or team dark and his other friends just help him out more often idk

going super does temporarily fix all of these issues, but obvi he can’t be super sonic forever. it’s like taking panadol for a headache—fixes the symptom, not necessarily the cause, and wears off eventually

watched sonic prime, have some doodles [no the “classic” universe doesn’t really make sense However i wanted to draw tiny shadow so whatever]

text under the “classics” since it may be hard to read:

- shadow is arguably nicer, but he’s affectionate in the same way a grumpy cat is

- not the actual classics [obvi, since shadow doesn’t have a classic vers.]. they’re in roughly the same point in the timeline [as regular sonic and shadow], they’re just small

#god that got longer than i thought it would #welp i hope it’s interesting to read at least #and apologies for any glaring inaccuracies

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nameless-ken · 1 day ago

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Bucky Barnes x Reader - part four

The Stranger That Knows Me Best is a heartfelt story about connection, vulnerability, and taking chances on the unexpected. Two introverts discover that sometimes, the person who understands you best is the one you’ve never met.

part one | part two | part three

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: the usual, mostly angst!

Masterlist

authors note: I am currently moving into a new home so I hope you enjoy reading this part until I can update again! I think there might be one more part, maybe two. If you have any requests, please send them in, I need the inspiration and am looking forward to my new writing set up!

The apartment feels suffocating, too quiet. Bucky is on his couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. His stomach churns, not just from the headache pounding behind his eyes but from the gnawing pit of regret.

The image of you, standing by the bar last night, arms crossed and eyes guarded—that’s what makes his hangover worse. Not the lingering taste of whiskey or the meaningless, hollow kiss he wishes he could take back.

Just you. And the way you looked at him like he was exactly what he feared becoming—someone who couldn’t be trusted with your heart.

He runs a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. He needs air.

Grabbing his jacket, he steps outside, the cold midmorning air making his eyes sting. He sniffles and zips up his jacket, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he moves on instinct, as if his feet remember his usual route than his brain does in his current state.

He makes it to the coffee shop, pausing before walking in, hoping to find you. He takes a deep breath and walks inside. His eyes wander to the back table but find it empty. His shoulders slump in disappointment. He tries to shake it off as he orders a cup of hazelnut coffee. He takes a seat at the same table that used to bring him comfort but now it just feels cold. He sits there, letting the untouched mug grow cold and stares ahead, remembering the way you smiled at him over the rim of your own mug. He hates how upset he feels, knowing he doesn’t deserve to feel this way. Since he brought you here, the atmosphere has changed. The sight of the empty chair in front of him twists anger and hopelessness deep in his chest.

The park is quieter this morning, the usual sounds of dogs barking and groups of old women chatting on their morning walks, are dulled by his intrusive thoughts. He walks along the path where you had strolled beside him, past the hill where you had sat together. He stops and visualizes the way you had tilted your head up, watching the light filter through the trees, and how he had caught himself watching you. He misses the smile that would appear on your face as he spoke about his past and how much he loved that he was the reason for it. The realization of that had startled him then. Now, it haunts him.

The Brooklyn Promenade stretches out before him, the skyline hazy against the afternoon sky. He leans against the railing, the same spot where you had stood. He remembers the look in your eyes, gleaming as you took in the Manhattan city outline. He had been drawn to that look on your face, the way you absorbed the world like it still had so much beauty to offer. And he had found himself watching you instead, more taken by your beauty and wonder— it made him feel some unfamiliar stir in his chest, something terrifying and real.

Now, the space beside him feels too empty.

The record store is the last stop. The familiar scent of vinyl and dust wrapping around him. Music plays softly over the speakers but it doesn’t make him feel the usual calmness. He walks to the listening booth, stopping in front of it, remembering the way you helped him through a difficult memory.

He hadn’t realized just how much he liked seeing you experience his happiness. Now, all he can think about is how easily he’s managed to ruin everything.

He swipes a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. He’s spent so long keeping people at arm’s length, convincing himself it’s better that way. But you—you slipped through the tiny cracks. And last night, he shattered the fragility between you.

Bucky swallows hard and leaves the store, his mind still a tangled mess of regret.

The fear had crept in before he could stop it. The moment he started wanting this—you—it became too real, too much. He had been here before, letting himself believe in something good, and look where it got him.

Losing his mom nearly broke him. Having Natalie leave right before shattered whatever pieces were left. And now, standing in the wreckage of his own making, he wonders if he’s doomed to repeat the same cycle—pushing people away before they have the chance to leave on their own.

He rubs a hand over his jaw, clenching as he exhales through his nose. He doesn’t know how to fix this. He doesn’t know if he can.

But the thought of losing you for good? That terrifies him more than anything.

And for the first time in a long time, Bucky is scared of something that isn’t the past—he’s scared of the future.

And what it might look like without you in it.

A sharp knock rattles the apartment door. He knows it’s not you, you still haven’t returned from your hasty exit this morning. He texted you once, just wanting to know if you’re okay. He hates the thought of you walking around in an unfamiliar city. You read it but didn’t reply.

He ignores the knocking at first, slouched on his couch, staring at the floor like it holds all the answers he can’t find. But the knocking comes again—louder, more impatient. He knows who it is.

With a sigh, Bucky pushes himself to his feet and opens the door.

Sam doesn’t wait for an invitation. He steps inside, arms crossed over his chest.

“Alright, man,” Sam greets with a stern look and pressing eyes. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Bucky exhales sharply and shuts the door, rubbing a hand over his face. “Not in the mood for a lecture, Sam.”

“Well, that’s too damn bad.” Sam’s eyes darken as he takes a step closer. “Because somebody’s gotta say it. You say you don’t want to lose her, but you’re doing a damn good job pushing her away.”

Bucky clenches his jaw, looking away. “It doesn’t matter.”

Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Bullshit.”

Bucky groans, shoulders tensing. “You don’t get it—”

“No, I get it just fine.” Sam cuts him off, his voice sharper now. “You’re scared. You’ve been running from these feelings for years. And now, instead of dealing with your own shit, you’re just hurting her.”

Bucky flinches but doesn’t argue.

Sam exhales, shaking his head. His voice softens, but there’s no less weight behind it. “I remember what you were like after your mom died. You were wrecked, man. And Natalie? She just walked away. Left you when you needed someone the most.”

Bucky swallows hard, the memories hitting him like a punch to the gut. The loneliness. The heartbreak. The way he shut himself off from everything and everyone after that.

Sam steps closer. “You’ve been keeping people at a distance ever since. And maybe that made sense back then, but not now. Not with her.”

Bucky’s hands clench into fists at his sides. His throat feels tight. “I do care about her, Sam.” He looks away, jaw tightening. “More than I’ve cared about anyone in years.”

Sam nods, like he already knew that. “So what the hell are you doing?”

Bucky exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to let someone in like that again. What if—” He stops himself before the rest of the thought can spill out.

Sam watches him for a long moment before speaking. “You don’t get to use that as an excuse forever, man. Yes, she will be going back to Oregon soon but that doesn’t mean she’s leaving you for good. It’s scary. It’s always gonna be scary. But if you don’t face that fear, you’re gonna lose the best damn thing that’s happened to you.”

Bucky lets out a slow, shaky breath, his chest aching. He doesn’t know what to say—because deep down, he knows Sam’s right.

The bell above the door chimes as Sam steps into the coffee shop, sweeping over the room until he lands on you. You’re by the window, hands curled around a cup of coffee that’s long gone cold, staring out at the city. But you’re not really seeing it. The movement of people, the rush of yellow cabs, the flickering neon signs—they’re all just blurs beyond the glass, as distant as the thoughts clouding your mind.

Sam doesn’t hesitate. He walks over and slides into the chair across from you.

“You look like you could use some company,” he says, resting his arms on the table.

You blink, snapping out of your daze. Your lips tug into a small, tired smile. “Hey, Sam.”

“Hey,” he replies, but there’s a softness to his voice, a knowing look in his eyes. Like he already sees the storm inside you before you can even say a word. He leans forward slightly. “You doing okay?”

You hesitate, your fingers tightening around the ceramic cup. The truth is, you’re not sure. The emotions tangled in your chest are too heavy to sort through. “I don’t know,” you admit quietly. “I’m just… trying to make sense of it all.”

Sam nods like he expected that. He glances around, then exhales. “You see him now, but you don’t know the version of him that I do—the guy who didn’t even want to get out of bed, who stopped talking to me for weeks.”

Your brows draw together as you look up at him. “After his mom passed?”

Sam nods. “Bucky was different after that. He was always the guy who carried everything on his shoulders, but when she died, it crushed him. And Natalie?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “She didn’t stick around. Their relationship was already rocky, but when grief hit, she made him feel like a burden.”

A sharp pang twists in your chest. Your mind flashes back to the way Bucky had spoken about Natalie. How his voice turned hollow, how his shoulders tensed like even the memory of her was something he wanted to bury deep. And suddenly, you understand it more. The way he hesitates, the way he pushes and pulls, how he keeps you at arm’s length even when his eyes tell a different story.

Sam continues, his voice quieter now. “He stopped showing up. Stopped answering calls, stopped seeing people. And when he did come back around… it wasn’t the same. He didn’t let anyone in after that. Not really.”

You lower your gaze, tracing the rim of your cup with your fingertip. The weight of Sam’s words settles into your chest, filling in the gaps of a story Bucky never quite told you himself.

“And now?” you ask, your voice softer.

Sam studies you for a long moment before answering. “Now, he’s trying. Or at least, he was—until he screwed up.”

A humorless laugh escapes you as you shake your head. “Yeah. Until he screwed up.”

Sam doesn’t argue with that. He just watches your reaction.

You swallow hard, staring down at your untouched coffee. “I don’t know what to do, Sam. I care about him. A lot. But I can’t be someone’s maybe. I can’t stand here waiting for him to decide if he wants me in his life as a friend or as more.”

Sam nods, thoughtful. “I get it. And I’m not here to make excuses for him. What he did was messed up. But I just thought you should know… he’s not a bad guy. He just doesn’t know how to let himself be happy.”

Your throat tightens. Because as much as you hurt, as much as you’re angry and disappointed—you know Sam’s right. You’ve seen it in the way Bucky looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, in the way his fingers hesitate before touching yours, like he’s afraid of wanting something he’s convinced himself he can’t have.

And now you see it in yourself, too. The ache in your chest isn’t just from what he did—it’s from knowing he doesn’t believe he deserves more than what his past taught him.

“I just…” You pause, your voice smaller now. “I want to be there for him.”

Sam exhales, offering you a sad smile. “Maybe he needs to figure out how to let himself be loved first.”

You nod slowly and let his words sink in. Understanding Bucky doesn’t erase the hurt. But it does leave you with one painful question:

How much longer can you wait for someone who’s still learning what he wants?

That night, when the knock on the guest room door comes, you’re not surprised.

You’ve been expecting it.

Still, you hesitate. Your fingers hover over the handle for a beat too long before you finally pull the door open.

Bucky stands on the other side, looking exhausted—like he hasn’t slept in days. His hoodie hangs loose on his frame, hands shoved deep into the front pocket, shoulders hunched like the weight of everything is pressing down on him all at once. But it’s his eyes that catch you. There’s no shield there, no guarded walls—just rawness. Regret.

“Can we talk?” he asks hesitantly.

You inhale slowly. There’s no anger left in you, not really—just exhaustion, just a dull ache where warmth used to be. Without a word, you step back, leaving just enough space for him to walk inside.

Bucky lingers for a moment before he moves, running a hand through his hair as he exhales. The silence stretches, pressing down on both of you.

Finally, he breaks it.

“I was wrong,” he says, voice rough. “I keep messing this up. I keep pushing you away, and I know why—I just don’t know how to stop.” He swallows hard, shifting his weight like he’s fighting himself. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just… I don’t know how to be what you need.”

His words land deep, stirring up everything you’ve been feeling since you got here—the warmth of him, the way he made you feel seen, the way he kept you close, then pushed you away in the same breath.

You tighten your arms around yourself, steadying your voice. “I care about you, Bucky.” The words come easier than you expect. “But I won’t be someone you keep at arm’s length just because you’re scared.”

His jaw tightens. His hands ball into fists at his sides. “I’m not scared of you,” he says too fast, then, softer, “I’m scared of what this means.”

“I get it,” you say carefully. “But fear isn’t an excuse to push a friend away and drown your sorrows in alcohol when I’m here because of you. You wanted me here, Bucky. And everything was going great—until Natalie showed up, and suddenly, it was like you weren’t even the same person anymore.”

Bucky flinches, his lips pressing together in frustration.

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “I understand if seeing her brought up a lot for you. If it messed with your head. But why couldn’t you talk to me about it? We’ve traded letters for months, you’ve been open with me in ways I don’t think you’ve been with anyone else. But now, in person, it feels like there’s a part of you you’re hiding on purpose.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose as he responds. “I wasn’t trying to hide. I just… I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to let myself have something good without waiting for it to go wrong.”

Your chest tightens. “That’s the thing, Bucky,” you say softly. “I wasn’t waiting for anything to go wrong. I was just here. I am here”

His breath stutters, and for a second, you see something crack in his expression.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and you believe him. You really do.

But believing him doesn’t change the fact that something in you has shifted.

You let out a slow, steadying breath, feeling the ache of the words before you even say them. “I think it’s time for me to go home.”

Bucky’s head snaps up, his whole body going still. “What?”

You force yourself to meet his gaze, to keep your voice level. “I came here to spend time with you. To figure out how we would be together. And I think I have.”

Something flickers across his face—panic, maybe. Regret. The kind that comes too late.

Bucky’s lips part like he wants to argue, to fight, but no words come out. Because what could he say?

And then, after a long, agonizing beat, he nods. Once. Just enough to let you go.

The morning light filters through the window, casting soft golden streaks across the ceiling. You’ve been awake for hours, staring at the shifting light patterns. Sleep never really came last night—not when your mind kept replaying every moment, every word, every hesitation in Bucky’s voice.

This isn’t how you imagined this trip ending.

You wanted clarity. Connection. A reason to stay.

Instead, you’re left with the stark realization that no matter how much you care about Bucky, no matter how much he might care about you, he’s stuck in a place you can’t reach. And you won’t break yourself trying to pull him out.

The thought sits heavy in your chest as you finally force yourself to move. Each motion feels mechanical—pulling your suitcase from the corner, folding clothes with a numb detachment. You hesitate over the little things he’s given you, the small tokens of your time together—his hoodie draped over the chair, the vinyl from the record store, a book he’d set on your nightstand with a quiet, “Thought you’d like this.”

You trace your fingers over the spine before slipping it into your bag.

Leaving feels wrong. It feels like severing something that was never meant to be broken. But staying? Staying would hurt more.

You reach for your phone, your voice quiet but firm as you reschedule your flight and call Wanda to see if she can be there to pick you up. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon… No, it’s fine. I’m ready to come home.”

The words feel like a lie even as you say them.

Bucky doesn’t mean to eavesdrop.

He was heading to the kitchen when he heard your voice from the guest room. He freezes in place, your words slamming into him like a gut punch.

"I’m ready to come home."

The finality in your tone knocks the breath from his lungs. You’re leaving.

He knew this trip wasn’t permanent, but hearing it like this—knowing you’re leaving now, that you might never come back—makes his insides unravel.

His grip tightens on the edge of the counter, his pulse a frantic rhythm against his ribs. His mind races through every moment—the way you laughed with Sam at the bar, the way you fit so easily into his world, the way your fingers brushed his as you walked around his city. The way you looked at him last night, waiting for something he couldn’t give, and the way he hated himself for it.

He wants to stop you. To tell you not to go. To finally say everything he’s been too afraid to say.

But what if it’s too late?

What if he’s already lost you?

His feet move before he makes the decision. He’s at your door in an instant, his breath uneven, his heart pounding like it’s trying to break free from his chest.

He lifts a hand to knock—hesitates.

Then, before he can talk himself out of it, he pushes the door open.

You turn, startled, eyes wide as you clutch a sweater to your chest. The sight of you mid-pack, standing in the middle of a room that already feels emptier, hits him harder than he expects.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

Bucky swallows hard, his voice rough when he finally finds it. “You don’t have to go.”

Your breath catches, fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater. “Bucky…”

“I know I messed up,” he rushes out, stepping closer. “I know I pushed you away. And I know I don’t deserve to ask you this, but…” He exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “Stay. Just—stay a little longer.”

You close your eyes briefly, willing yourself to hold firm. “I can’t.”

The words are soft, but they land like a hammer between you.

Bucky’s jaw tightens, his expression crumbling for a fraction of a second. He nods, stepping back as if to brace himself. “Right.”

You watch him, waiting for something—an argument, a plea, anything that might make this easier. But he doesn’t fight you. He just looks at you, and for the first time, you see it clearly.

Bucky doesn’t know how to fight for someone to stay.

And you can’t be the one to teach him.

The ride to the airport is quiet.

Bucky insisted on driving you, and despite everything, you let him. Maybe because you weren’t ready to say goodbye back at his place, maybe because a part of you wanted just a little more time with him.

Now, sitting in the passenger seat of his car, watching the city blur past, the silence stretches between you like a thread pulled too tight, on the verge of snapping.

He grips the steering wheel with both hands, knuckles taut. Every so often, he glances over at you, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how.

Neither of you turn on the radio.

Neither of you break the silence.

Because what is there to say?

You’re leaving. And this time, Bucky isn’t stopping you.

The airport comes into view too soon, a cold reminder that this is real, that in a few minutes, you’ll be walking through those doors and out of his life.

He pulls up to the curb and puts the car in park, exhaling like it physically pains him.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, fingers trembling slightly as you reach for your suitcase in the backseat. When you turn back around, Bucky is already out of the car, stepping around to meet you. The weight in his eyes nearly makes you stumble.

You shift on your feet, gripping the suitcase handle too tightly. “You didn’t have to drive me.”

He tries to swallow the thick sorrowness that’s creeping its way up. “Yeah, I did.”

A pause.

The wind picks up, rustling your hair.

Bucky shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his gaze flickering over your face, trying to commit every detail to his memory. “I, uh…” He clears his throat, shifting on his feet. “I know I don’t deserve to ask, but—will you still write to me?”

The words nearly break you.

You exhale sharply, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “I don’t know, Bucky.”

He nods stiffly, looking down as he expected that answer.

You step closer, hesitating just a fraction before reaching for him. Your fingers brush over his forearm first, then move up, slowly wrapping around his back. And Bucky—Bucky doesn’t hesitate at all.

His arms come around you in an instant, pulling you against his chest with an urgency that nearly knocks the breath out of you. His grip is strong, desperate, he’s afraid to let go.

Your face presses against the worn fabric of his jacket, and for a moment, you let yourself breathe him in—his warmth, his quiet strength, the scent of the familiarity and fleetingness of his presence.

You don’t know how long you stand there, wrapped up in each other, neither one of you willing to be the first to pull away.

But then the announcement sounds out over the speakers, a reminder of where you are.

You close your eyes and force yourself to step back. Bucky’s arms drop to his sides, fingers flexing because he wants to reach for you again but knows he can’t.

“Take care of yourself, Bucky,” you whisper, holding back tears threatening to fall.

His jaw tightens. “You too.”

You grab your suitcase, forcing your feet to move toward the doors, toward the life waiting for you in Oregon.

You don’t look back.

You can’t.

But if you did, you’d see Bucky standing there, unmoving, eyes glued to you as you disappeared from him.

And as he finally drags himself back to his car, gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing holding him together, the tears start flowing. .

Bucky unlocks the door to his apartment, stepping inside as silence greets him. He exhales slowly, taking off his boots and jacket and makes his way to the kitchen. His hand hovers over the light switch, hesitating.

His eyes land on the mug you last used. He picked it up for you before you arrived, wanting you to have something of your own while you stayed here. He remembered you writing to him that you always have a mug of tea before bed every night.

He wanted to make you feel at home or at least like his home could be yours too.

He walks over to the sink and picks it up, noticing it still full and untouched of dark brown liquid.

His grip tightens around the ceramic, his jaw clenching as he stares down into the empty sink. The anger isn’t really at the mug, or even at you—it’s at himself.

With a sharp inhale, he sets the mug back down. Not because he wants to, but because he knows if he doesn’t, it’ll end up shattered in his hands.

Bucky doesn’t think—he just moves.

He grabs his running shoes, shoves his headphones in and steps out into the cold night air. The Brooklyn streets are quieter now. He starts off at a steady pace, his breath coming in measured exhales, his body falling into the familiar rhythm of running.

When the weight of the world gets too heavy, when the noise in his head refuses to settle, this is what he does. He runs until his legs burn, until his lungs ache, until there’s nothing left but the sound of his feet hitting the pavement and the steady pounding of his heart.

But tonight, it doesn’t work.

Because tonight, every step feels like he’s chasing something he already lost.

His mind flashes back to you—the way your shoulders tensed at the airport, like you were holding back everything you really wanted to say. The way you held onto him just a second longer during that last hug before finally letting go.

Bucky pushes himself harder, his feet slamming against the pavement as he takes a sharp turn down a quieter street. His breathing is ragged now, his body screaming for him to slow down, but he doesn’t. He can’t. Because stopping means thinking, and thinking means feeling, and he doesn’t want to feel this.

He runs past the coffee shop and his stomach clenches. He runs past the record store where he shared such a thoughtful, tough memory with you.

Everywhere he goes, you’re still there.

He finally comes to a stop at the Brooklyn Promenade, hands on his knees, chest heaving as he stares out at the city lights reflecting over the water. He used to love this view. Used to come here when he needed clarity.

But right now, all he sees is the ghost of you standing beside him, a memory he can’t outrun.

The realization crashes over him like a wave, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky feels it all.

The regret. The longing. The emptiness you left behind.

And for the first time, he doesn’t know if running will ever be enough to escape.

Thank you so much for reading <3 please reblog or comment below, I love hearing your thoughts and feedback!

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cigarettesaftersae · 1 day ago

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cream puff - 03 this spring

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: shidou ryusei x f!reader | contains : fluff, (slight)angst, a bit suggestive(its shidou.), highschool au, troublemaker shidou, reader loves baking, spring :P, warning is shidou

masterlist

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Dear Diary, im severely thinking about how this spring is blossoming with surprises. My bakery life might come a little sooner than i thought, thanks i guess ryusei And the milk boxes are delicious

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You really can’t shake the feeling off, his whole vibe, his look, and smile, blonde to pinkish hair, striking eyeliner makeup- which is confidently much better than yours for some reason. Now some may confuse this with ‘love’ but you swear to your cherry pink heart, it isn’t. It’s something else, right? Right. Because right now, you glare him down, he’s took custom of the place where you wished you carved your name into so you wouldn’t be all the way in the back of the class. Pain of hearing the teacher in the front, blurry across the room of the board. He’s just messing around, not paying attention unlike you, you would’ve written down notes that could battle Napoleon's army.

Suddenly, his chair scraped against the floor as he stood, striding over to your desk with a casual air that somehow felt calculated. Without a word, he placed another milk box in front of you, his fingers lingering just a second too long.

“For you, buzz,” he said in a tone so low and smooth it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. The playful nickname rolled off his tongue like a private joke only he understood. But you understood it. Your eyes flicked up to meet his for the briefest moment, but his intense gaze pinned you down. You dropped your eyes immediately, lips parting to say something—anything—but no words came out.

Shidou tilted his head slightly, a curious, almost amused expression crossing his face. He looked as though he were inspecting you, searching for some hidden detail, his sharp pink eyes narrowing slightly. “Hmm… You didn’t even finish the last one I gave you.”

His voice carried a subtle edge, teasing but not quite annoyed.

You fidget under his scrutiny, the weight of his presence making your pulse race. “You can take them back if you want…” you mumbled, trying to sound indifferent but knowing you failed miserably.

“But they’re all for you”

“Why?” you blurted out, immediately wishing you hadn’t.

“Figure it out.” His smirk was maddeningly cryptic, his tone a playful challenge as he pushed himself upright and returned to his seat.

Just then, the teacher walked in, silencing the chatter in the room. Her gaze zeroed in on Shidou immediately, sharp and accusing. “You’re not late anymore, Shidou,” she remarked, her voice tinged with exasperation.

“Really?” Shidou mumbled, the sarcastic bite in his words sparking quiet laughter across the room.

The teacher huffed, clearly deciding it wasn’t worth the battle, and began her lecture instead. You let out a quiet breath of relief, thankful for the distraction. But just as you started to focus on the lesson, you caught it—a subtle movement in the corner of your vision.

Shidou’s head turned ever so slightly, his eyes flicking back to you with a look that sent your heart into what you could call terror. Or maybe it’s just your mind filled with curiosity, or both because why now, is he just happening to talk to someone like you?

Thanks to the bright skies, the bell’s lousy ring signals the start of lunch. You couldn’t handle another lecture—your brain already fried from endless notes and scribbles. Rushing over to Lui, you clutch the small bento you had prepared last night, packed with enough to share—a friendly thought meant just for her. The moment she spots it, her eyes sparkle like diamonds, reflecting every bit of excitement at the neatly arranged meal in your hands.

Settling into a secluded spot in the cafeteria, both of your stomachs rumble in anticipation, practically begging for food. Just as you’re about to dig in, you can’t help but notice a lingering gaze fixed right on you…

“I really think he might like you” Lui began “I mean he’s been trying to talk to you ever since you switched seats with him”

“Following me and giving me milk boxes is oddly unusual though, put a letter in my locker or something..” You sigh heavily, chewing away your thoughts with the food placed in front of you. Shoving you hand in your bag, you felt the string on your heart drop as you couldn’t feel a single inch of your water bottle anywhere. You took a look inside and it was gone! Disappeared, no where, at least not in your bag.

“Did you forget something?” Lui’s stuffed squirrel cheeks jiggle as she spoke

“I just…forgot my water bottle-” A sudden thud lifts up your shoulders up in surprise, a simple milk box extended out for you, your third one now. Slowly, inching up your eyes, and to your surprise the shadow looming over you is none other than Shidou Ryusei, again. “Now you have three—unless you secretly drank one or two?” he smirks

“I didn’t” you reply swiftly, “Why are you following me?”

“So bold and straightforward. I like it” He began “What, am I not allowed to?”

“That doesn’t answer my question”

“Dunno, something about you just gets my cells all excited, buzz.” There he goes with that name again; you and Lui exchange a look of mutual disbelief, a questionable form of words which you wouldn’t dear to imagine. What kind of reasoning was that? “Look Shidou I don’t really know what you’re trying to do but-”

“I want to be friends with you” Without hesitation, he tucks his feet under the table and sits in front of you.

“Uh- friends?” Lui shoots you a confused glance.

“Why didn’t you say that from the beginning”

“Well I just said it” his shoulder lumps up as a shrug, “and I’d like if you could call me Ryusei”

“Shidou…”

“Ryusei.”

“Uhm- yes Ryusei… I”

““Yep. Oh, that looks good—can I have some?” He effortlessly shifts the conversation, already eyeing your freshly packed bento of food. “What-” His fingers already made it’s move before you could even answer, not that you knew what to say in the first place; acting as if you two were already friends, “Do you notice anything different?” and he’s so random “No- I don’t think so?” Staring down at his tan features, you couldn’t partially notice anything ‘different’ “Your hair?” You take a guess “That hurts me a lot buzz, I touched up my makeup real well jus’ for you” The pouty lips, droopy eyes eat you away, what a baby

“O-oh your eyeliner yes- it seems more defined. Right Lui?” She kicks your feet, nudging you as payback for bringing her more into this situation “Uh-huh, sure, totally noticed that before he mentioned it.”

“Bingo” Shidou shoots you a wink, and to his fortune you accepted the multiple milk boxes he gifted you. What’s the worth if you never try? You take the milk placed beyond you and poke the straw into the hole, gracefully grazing your soft lips onto the tip and sip. Clearing up the desert dryness in your throat.

Outrageous really, returning after lunch—this was never the situation you thought you would ever be in. At first you thought his presence would annoy you entirely but walking back to class; side by side with him, didn’t really bother you much. Lui had left you two to be alone, excusing herself because she had some work to do with the festival. Hopefully this would be a good chance to talk about what being friends is like with Shidou.

“Shi- Ryusei, why exactly do you want to be friends with me?” Your footsteps are the only two heard while walking down the hall back the class

“You’re pretty cell exploding” (You’re pretty (and) cool)

“Oh, thanks I guess.” Now is your chance! Run away from the inevitable Shidou Ryusei before he keeps you with his claws. Or maybe that's what any other person would think of in this moment, he was quite extraordinary—yes, not weird, but extremely extraordinary in your head. Despite the somewhat weird comments thrown at you.

“Did you even have lunch? I didn’t see you eating much”

“I had a bite of your food,” You tilt your head in confusion; was that all he really ate? “Quite tasty,” he comments, ever so casual and smooth. Little did he know, it may or may have not just made your heart giggle with a wide ear to ear smile, with colorful so butterflies and daisy fresh flowers, exploding in your heart just by the sheer compliment, beside Lui, no has ever complicated your marvelous cooking. But in reality, you kept a rather straight face, and a slight red blush on the tip of your ears, something that Shidou took quick notice of and said nothing but a subtle chuckle.

“I’m…glad you liked it.” Is that really all you can say? Oh you wanted to say more, maybe even offer him an everyday lunch so he’s healthy and full. Wished for a star to grant more than a miracle can strive for.

“Mhm, hey think you can hook me up with some more of your food?” Or maybe you don’t need a wish, or a miracle, maybe you just needed Ryusei.

“You’d want that?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

As you two walk into back to class, your classmates and their spirts as hopeful as this spring festival was a wavering welcome. The class president, who took great notice of your late attendance and immediately opened his mouth to lecture you two. Your ears could bleed any moment, “Shidou, I expected you to be late but not you, Y/n” He extended out the syllabus of your name like a warning ringing in your ear. “Sorry I-”

“Blah, blah, blah. So what?” Shidou cuts in, unbothered as ever. “We’re the ones who’ll be doing most of the work anyway.”

The class president narrows his eyes. “And exactly what work would that be?”

“Uh, the baking, obviously.”

“Ahem… right.” With a sigh, he turns to you instead. “Y/N, could you put together a menu of what you’ll be baking? We have other classmates working on the design and setup.”

“Of course, I can start on it now.”

As you sit down, Shidou follows along like a dog on a leash, sitting in front of you. “wha’cha thinking of making?”

“Lui really liked my red velvet with white chocolate chips cookies, so that’s one. And…a blueberry tart, some cake of course with a hint of my own recipe and design.” You could yap forever about the recipes you made and would love to try. Make the jaws yawn till they couldn’t keep their eyes open anymore. “Do you know how to make cream puffs?” Shidou fiddles with one your pencils, “They’re pretty easy yeah…you like them?” The spinning pencil between his hands stops and he locks eye contacts with you “Would you make them for me pretty please?” He leans in closer to you, nose touching, tickling, shivering against each other. He’s begging for a little more, inching for even a kiss on your soft cheeks but he didn’t want to make you anymore the shy gal you are so he left his intimacy at that. For now.

Despite the sudden closeness, you don’t flinch. His eyes darken, black pupils expanding, dilating, his amorous gaze lingering on your lips before flicking back up. You swear you hear his breath hitch, just slightly.

“And some yukhoe too please, my favorite.” He began to fiddle with your pencil once more, backing away from you—the lead lightly tracing on the surface of his sketchbook

“I suppose if you like it that much but doesn’t it seem a bit…weird for the festival”

“Just make them for me, and me alone”

“Isn’t it…raw?”

“Raw is always better, don’t cha’ think so?”

You sigh at his utter mindset, nonetheless would it ever bother you though. You made a new friend.

#bluelock #sae itoshi #bllk shidou #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou x reader #ryusei shidou #shido ryusei #shidou ryusei fluff #ryusei shido x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk

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mangionebabymama · 1 day ago

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hey there! it’s “lulu feels too hard” anon back with another mini rant (not really a rant, more like an observation haha)

It’s in the same vein of him feeling emotions hard, but i think one thing that needs to be emphasized in this dynamic is how much he’s tried to subdue his emotions – and i don’t just mean recently. in many clips from his prep school days, like when he’s getting an award for example, you can see him smiling like a bit, but then cutting back to this neutral expression. Funny enough, it’s his eyebrows that always give him away loool. It’s similar to how he acts in the court hearing, full of expression, but then immediately goes back to a stoic, neutral expression. There’s even moments like this in some of the clips from Hawaii.

I guess my point is, how much was he taught to mask his emotions, and put up a front. It seems to me that he was brought up in a collective environment where the saying goes “always put your best foot forward, regardless of the circumstance”. I can understand this, coming from a family with similar values of “you represent the family name, your success is our success.”

i think though, that this seems to be what makes lulu resonate with so many of us: he’s empathetic, despite trying to be stoic. There’s a duality about him – the confident Ivy League scholar and the vulnerable, empathetic people pleasing boy who seeks affirmation one way or another.

but I think under this guise of putting your best foot forward, combined with a sense of always showing your masculinity that many guys of that age are pressured to do (and let’s not forget that for most of his schooling he attended an all boys school so there is that sort of “our boys” culture that’s pervasive in these realms), he had to hide the other part of him which felt so deeply, so hard.

it reminds me of one of his Reddit posts talking about his issues with Brain Fog, and how he initially never thought to talk about it with his friends, and instead masked it under this idea of “oh well, marks don’t matter for computer science majors” even though he was hurting and feeling so disappointed in himself to the point of contemplating dropping out. But the part that sticks out to me the most is what he said after in the post about even if you do end up telling them, if you wait too long, it’s almost like they won’t believe you (or something along those lines). And idk, that’s just such a heartbreaking way to think and it makes me sad for him. He internalized so much it seems. And truthfully, I’m not blaming anyone in his circle (family/friends) because I think part of it was also lulu never wanting to seem weak, which unfortunately clouded his vision of seeing that there were people who probably may have wanted to help. It’s just an all around sad circumstance :(

Sorry for the long write up, don’t feel like you need to provide a long response too! (haha i guess in some ways, i relate to lulu too :)

No, no, please don’t apologize for writing this, you captured this so well! 🥺 I wish I had more to add on, but you literally took all the words out of mine and emphasized on this beautifully.

I also think there’s that duality of having an internal vs. external struggle, where he could easily show and offer empathy towards others like it was nothing, but when it came to himself, it was a completely different story to extend grace. I know he had to internalize a lot, and the physical exertion of carrying all that weight on him had to have shown. I remember somebody mentioning how when he’s in deep thought in some photos, you see all the lines on his forehead—and there’s a lot of them, and once you notice them all crinkled, you’ll never not look at them in other photos. So, he literally has/had so much on his mind.

Reading that part of about his brain fog, about the irony of opening up too soon to your friends, fucked me up, to be truthful. I similarity dealt with this about two years ago, when I experienced two close familial deaths within a month before I started my senior year of college, and I was grieving hard. So many people that I know looked at me and considering my bereavement with the “strong Black woman” trope because I do have a strong personality, and I’ve experienced a lot of hardship in my life, so some felt like that I was gonna be alright, regardless, and kind of brushed off my grief like, “Oh, she’ll be alright, you’ve always managed to go through things” but no, lol. It’s the reality that I think, that many of the “strongest” friends in the group more often than not, face, surprisingly, contrary to belief—it happens all the time. When you’re commended to be a strong, resilient person, people don’t consider you to be weak, as in, you can’t persevere through struggles, but if you do, you’ll be fine, and the suffering won’t take much of an effect on you. But, like anyone else in this world, it still hurts, and it’s still acceptable to just give yourself the space to say that it sucks, and it hurts to be hurting. It’s sort of like, you have that universal perception of what it means to be hurt, but you can’t express that you’re hurt in the same breath.

#💚 mangionebabymama asks

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batheir · 22 hours ago

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he can't just be so full of hate, then suddenly have soft eyes and kind words for her. momentarily wishing the drink had something to make her forget about all of it . . . if it'd end up even doing that, it'd most likely amp up her memory and cause her to remember it harder knowing how her brain seems to work. "that's it? you're so hateful towards me because you don't want to be seen?" why would he even do that, ignoring her could be an option but all that anger . . . for what reasoning did he need to be capable? how did he even have the heart to express all of that so cruelly? she knew she was right, though.

"you liked making fun of me for being sensitive. you turned on me as well. you acted like i was the insane one and shoved me to the wolves . . . back at sarah's. i don't know how well i can trust you anymore truthfully, alex." dark haired girl tells him honestly, relining her eyes with black liner, feeling irritation still clouding her mind. it was worse when someone did all these things and then they tried to make up for all it when her heart apparently wasn't ready to forgive and forget so quickly. "it's fine, it was actually funny. i meant it that way." his cold fingers against her skin, she means. dusting blush back onto her cheeks while he's moving behind her seat, she's going in for another sip of strawberry when helena wonders what he's doing. giving a glance over her shoulder when she feels her hair coming undone, growing looser by each thread undone by his fingers, "oh, fixing my hair are you? i hope you know how to braid." a small joking tune to her voice, her mind starting to feel weirdly elevated.

“please, don’t even mention espresso and muffins right now unless you want to make me drool all over this bar,” alex warns with a laugh, shaking his head in amusement because how can she possibly know that he treats himself with this exact combo after most workouts? “i have the biggest sweet tooth. part of why i work out so much. otherwise, i’d weigh three hundred pounds.” fingers absently reaching for the glass again, thinking this is the best drink he’s ever had and taking another sip, savoring the sweetness of strawberries and the underlying hints of who-knows-what. whatever it is, it’s delicious. “right? bakeries smell like coffee and freshly baked bread and pastries and cinnamon while this place… it’s something else.” but he still nods his head in agreement. it’s clear that this is exactly what they both need. their usual hangout spots, barnes and noble or the local art galleries, wouldn’t be able to provide this kind of distraction. “hey! we said the same thing! oh, this means you’re buying the next round,” he teases, snapping his fingers and playfully pointing them at her.

although upon hearing helena’s next comment, his smile falters a little. pale blue eyes flickering away in embarrassment, fingers swirling the glass around, leaving wet circles on the bar’s sticky surface. “i’m sorry about that. i don’t know what possessed me to make that comment. no, on a second thought, i know exactly what possessed me…” he sighs, unsure why his tongue’s suddenly completely untied, seemingly uncontrollable. he finds himself confessing things that have never seen the light of day. “i don’t know how you do it, helena, but you seem to be able to see right through me. it’s actually scary how well you seem to understand me. the things you’ve said earlier…” about him being a broken little boy, emotionally unavailable and hurting on the inside. “they’re true. but i’m not ready to confront those parts of myself yet so i wanted to hurt you to make you stop analyzing me.” but that comment was so very out of line, he can’t help but be embarrassed now.

“oh, i didn’t even realize. sorry.” mumbling as he moves his hand away, he attempts to rub his palms together to warm them up a bit. “your braid’s all crooked now. did that witch pull on it or something?” looks like it. falling silent when she touches his bottom lip, shivers racing up his spine, electric currents running through his veins. he blushes like a schoolboy and doesn’t even flinch, swallowing any whines and hisses that threaten to escape him. it hurts, but is so strangely intimate that the butterflies in his stomach take flight once more. pale blue eyes studying first helena’s hands, then her own lips, and stopping once they find her own doe-like hues. he’d drown in them in a heartbeat if it weren’t for her voice, pulling him out of this haze. god, what’s wrong with him? “thank you.” the cut is still pulsing, but he’s no longer bleeding and the stinging sensation as he speaks isn’t quite so intense now. “let me do something for you in return.” he slides off the stool and stands behind her, fingers carefully undoing her braid, combing through dark curls, figuring fixing her hair is the least he can do.

#4lexnilsen

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broareweabouttoviberightnow · 2 days ago

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i yearn for ponyboy angst after johnny and dally die and for once he needs darry and not soda...or more of the curtis bros grieving their parents/their friends/their childhoods together. just curtis bro angst all day every day. love ur stuff!

AGH!! TY LOVE!! this ask has been truly rottin' in my brain I thought about it durin' my ENTIRE shift today!! I hope you like it!! fic under the cut!!

also song >:D

"Pony?" Darry's sayin' my name in a way that implies he's been sayin' it a while. I blink at him 'n I don't know where I've been. My fingers are all wrapped up in my jeans, white-knuckled. I try to relax but my body doesn't listen to me one bit, so I forget it.

"I've been callin' you, where were you at?" He crosses the room 'n taps a finger gently to my temple, brushin' my bangs off my forehead.

I shrug 'n he worries at his lip. "Somewhere else, I guess." Darry looks stricken but that's how he always looks nowadays: worried.

"I gotta talk to you about your hair, Pony baby." I inhale sharply 'n Darry's face twists up a little more. He moves all slow, eases down onto the couch beside me 'n wraps an arm around my shoulders like I might fall to pieces.

"I'm not colorin' it I swear to God I'm not-" Steve had made a joke, some comment, maybe even just a suggestion, that I dye my hair back to its normal color. I don't think he meant anythin' bad by it. I dunno. I can see it more now. Darry's rough 'cause he's scared. Steve was mean when he meant to be kind. I think Dallas was like that. Rough 'cause he didn't know how to be soft.

I think I said somethin' awful to him. I was always doin' that. Bein' cruel 'cause it all hurt so bad. Last week Darry 'n I had fought 'cause it's all we knew how to do 'n I'd told him I bet he wished I had died that night. Just like-

I didn't mean it. I never meant it. I didn't know how to not mean it.

"Honey?" I shake my head. Darry's lookin' at me again with big scared eyes 'n I know I've done it again. Gone somewhere.

"Sorry." Darry cups the side of my face, there are new wrinkles alongside his eyes. He always looks like he's just waitin' for somethin' bad to happen.

"S'ok, baby. I ain't gonna make you do nothin' to your hair." Soda's beside me now, too. I don't remember when he got there. "We've been talkin' 'n baby... we need you to let us help you wash it."

I flinch. Hard. Straight back into Soda's arm 'n know he had it there, ready to brace me. "No." Darry sighs, glances over my head, 'n Soda gathers me up into his arms.

"Look, honey. I'm not gonna make you. But I think... you'll feel a bit better. You don't gotta take a shower or nothin'. Maybe a bath?" Darry tries, reachin' out 'n coverin' my hand in his.

"No." I don't know what it was. I'd gone through the damn fire 'n come out scared of the fuckin' water. That night in the fountain was a million years ago. Glory, I don't know how I had space in my head to even remember it.

But I did. Fuck. I did.

"Hey Pony? Can we try somethin' else then? If you humor me?" Soda's tone is pliant 'n a little too bouncy. It gets like that sometimes. But someone has to be alright. So we don't mention it.

He climbs off the couch, pulls me gently up 'n I don't fight it. Darry's got a hand on my shoulder 'n Soda's got his arms around me still 'n they were like this more. Since. Like if they weren't always touchin' me I'd fade right away into nothin'. Sometimes it was nice. Sometimes it made me want to bite 'n tear 'n fuckin' scream.

The kitchen counter is clear, a couple towels folded onto the table, a chair tipped back against the sink. Soda guides me over to the chair, asks me a million questions in those big brown eyes he has that I don't know how to go about answerin'.

Are you fine? Is this fine? Does this remind you of- Does this remind you- Does this-

"Look, if you sit here you can rest your head back 'n I can wash your hair out without havin' to get you any closer to the water. D'ya think... that's somethin' you can stomach?" Soda's off to my side doin' all the talkin' but I'm lookin' straight out at Darry. He's still got a hand on my shoulder 'n Jesus. Has he always looked at me like that?

He shifts his weight 'n furrows his brow. His hand comes up slowly like I'm a spooked animal that might bolt. Some kicked dog. Some scared foal. He cups the side of my face 'n it occurs to me. It's the same place he'd once struck.

Odd. Both times touched in fear. A million years apart. I'm not even sure he notices.

"Pony?" I finally tear my eyes off Darry 'n when I twist my head, he lets his hand fall back to my shoulder.

"Ok." My voice aches. It always does. Maybe from the smoke. Maybe from the cold burn of that still water rottin' in my lungs even now. "Ok, I'll try." The look that Soda 'n Darry shoots over my head is filled with such a palpable relief I nearly cry.

"Ok, baby. I know this isn't easy. D'you think you can... take his jacket off?" Soda already has both hands around my biceps, just gently restin' there like he knows I'm gonna flinch again. "I ain't gonna take it-" My eyes flicker to Darry 'n hurt flashes across his face (not meanin' it, not knowin' how not to)- "'n neither is Dar. I just don't wanna get it wet 'n mess it up, ok hon? But if it's too much I can just try my best to avoid it?"

I clutch at the collar. 'N I can hear his voice clear as day. You better not fuck that leather up. You have no idea how much trouble it was to steal.

'N I almost laugh. Almost.

"He'd kill me if I let you give it the kitchen sink treatment." 'N my voice sounds all thick in my ears. I want to laugh. I want Dallas to knock me up the back of my head for even thinkin' of it. I want-

"Oh, Ponybaby." Soda's arms are around me again. I'm cryin'. When did I start cryin'? Why? 'N it's one of those times I don't want them to hold me. Jesus. It makes me want to run. To let the ache in my throat dissolve into the burn in my lungs. I want to bite 'n tear 'n scream.

But all I can do is sit there. Stiff in the arms I wish I could melt into.

"Soda." Darry drops a hand onto his shoulder 'n gently pries him off of me. When he takes his face out of my neck his cheeks are wet 'n I don't know whether it's my tears or his. "He's not-"

Here.

For a long moment, none of us move. Like a gunfight. Or a caged animal. 'N then I drag blunt nails under my eyes 'n scrub my face 'n Darry blows out a long breath like he'd been holdin' it. He lets go of Soda 'n we all go back to pretendin' nothin' happened. Or at least I do.

"Do you... want help?" When I look down my knuckles are white against the collar. I flex my fingers 'n they burn like that time I'd split them against some socs' jaw. Or that night Johnny 'n I had slept in the backyard out under the stars 'n the cold scalded along my hands 'n cracked my skin 'n I'd bled 'n bled 'n bled-

"Don't make me do it." 'N when I'd looked up at Darry I knew he understood what I meant. I squeezed my eyes shut 'n felt hands roughened by labors of love that had done nothin' but leave him with callouses 'n scars rest at my neck. He pulls the jacket off quickly 'n the rush of winter air slinkin' through the cracks we'd never be able to seal up scorches against my bare arms. I don't open my eyes until Darry presses the bundle to my chest.

When I look to Soda again, his face is dry 'n he's wearin' this encouragin' little smile that tugs too tight on the edges of his mouth. "You ready, Pony?"

I nod. Just a bob of my chin that takes every last ounce of strength in me. Darry turns, yanks another chair close to my side 'n Soda guides my head down to the sink.

The tap flips on. A lonely titterin' against the empty bowl. I don't control anythin' that happens after. Not the low, whimperin' sob that snakes out of my mouth. Not the way my shoulders jar up 'n away. Not my nails bitin' into Darry's arm so hard they leave bloody, half moons in their wake.

"No. Soda, no. Soda. I can't." Darry smooths one hand over my forehead 'n I reach for his wrist, catch it tight 'n hold on like if I don't let go he can keep me out of that night. If I can keep him here I can't go back.

"Pony?" Soda drops down so he can see my face. Reaches out to wrap me in his arms 'n I flinch. Fuckin' flinch. Right back 'n up into Darry's lap.

'N none of us are movin' again. Soda's falterin' in place, arms half reached out 'n face a mask of hurt 'n Jesus why do I always hurt the people I love? Why can't I stop bitin' the hand that wants to hold me?

"What is it, Pony? Are you here?" 'N I can't make my voice or body or anythin' work the way it should. But before I can stop it I choke out-

"Darry." 'N Darry lets out a little noise from somewhere so far in the back of his throat it comes out like a whimper.

"Oh, little colt." 'N suddenly his arms are around me again. My face is pressed into his chest 'n I'm heavin' deep sobs that have been rottin' in my chest for too long. Since before Dallas or Johnny. Before the week in the church or that night in the park. Maybe since Mama. Since Daddy. Since the last person to call me that was put in the freezin' Tusla earth.

"I love you." 'N it's whispery 'n waverin' 'n also the surest thing I've ever heard. 'N this time when I feel Soda return to my side, feel Darry open his arms 'n hold us both like were disappearin' before his eyes I just let myself be held. "You're here."

I am.

'N then he's shiftin' 'n I'm clutchin' his shirt tighter 'n he's pettin' my hair 'n tippin' my head back 'n not makin' me let him go though I'm too goddamn old 'n too big to be beggin' for my older brother.

"Keep your eyes closed, colt." 'N Soda's whisperin' somethin' low 'n soft 'n just louder than the sound the tap makes as it drip drip drips against the sink. 'N when the water runs along my temples 'n along the line of the scar that I'll carry until I die from the night I lost two brothers I don't think of the fountain.

No.

I think about the hot afternoon I won my first track race, felt sweat slide along my brow 'n saw the sun glint off Dallas' silver tooth even from way up in the stands. Hear the whoop of his voice still marred thick 'n heavy with his New York drawl. I think of runnin' home through the lot dodgin' the fat rain drops 'n stoppin' only to let Johnny catch up. Throwin' my head back 'n laughin'. Of the spray of a passin' car. I think of Soda laughin' as he flicks the spatterin' of water left on his hands at my face when we finish the dishes 'n mama not even scoldin' us.

I think of Darry's hands wet from the laundry as he runs a thumb absently over my face. Memorizin' it with calloused fingers when he thinks I've dropped off to sleep. The gentleness of his achin' love for us. Low 'n constant 'n how had I ever missed it?

"We're done, honey." 'N then I'm buried in his chest again, Dallas' jacket pressed against my stomach 'n Johnny's letter tucked into the inside pocket closest to my heart. Bangs drippin' cold between my brow, along my nose, 'n minglin' with tears never gone long enough to dry. 'N for the first time since it all, I'm right here. 'N it doesn't even hurt. It just aches.

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