#we could’ve lost to anyone else

[luveline]

hotch's little sister x spencer perhaps?

—Hotch’s sister graduates college, and Spencer is immediately smitten. fem, 1.6k

“She’s pregnant.” Emily shakes her bag of chips around. “But it’s not his baby.” 

Spencer frowns down at his sandwich. Rye bread is hard to cut, and the plastic knife isn’t putting up a good fight. “That’s awful,” he says. “He must be heartbroken.” 

“He’s distraught. Now he can’t decide if he wants to stay and raise the new baby with their first, or leave her and have split custody.” 

“What channel did you say it was on?” 

“It’s on NightDrama. I’ll find out the number.” 

Emily folds the empty packet of chips into a rectangle, then that rectangle into a triangle, folding the edges inside of a fold to create a parcel perfect for flicking at him. Spencer waits for it, tensing, but what he sees behind Emily steals his attention. 

She whips her head to follow him. 

You are, as Spencer watches you walk in, without a doubt one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen. And it’s not like you’re a model, you don’t walk with any such confidence, but it strikes him immediately. You’re pretty. And he’s never seen you in the office before. 

They get visitors occasionally but the majority of people so deep into this office would've been checked at security and cleared to come up here. You hold a visitors badge in your hand, which you promptly clip onto your shirt when you see people looking at you. Your frown makes you prettier. Something about the way you stand seems familiar, but Spencer can’t put his finger on what it is. 

“Should we go help?” Emily asks. 

“Who do you think she’s for?” Spencer asks back. He’s thinking you’re here to speak to JJ. They have people like this occasionally who JJ knows from past cases, drifting in on a hope that there’s more detail to be found. 

Emily stands up from her chair. Spencer follows suit. When you see her facing toward you, some of your apprehension melts into relief. 

“Hi,” you say breathily, summoning a smile that, again, seems familiar. Not in looks, but practise, maybe. 

“Hi there, can we help? You look lost,” Emily says. 

She sounds more friendly than Spencer could’ve hoped to achieve. He doesn’t even wanna think about it, from how pretty you are he would’ve stumbled over even the most basic hello. 

“I’m here to see Aaron Hotchner. He told me his office is up the stairs, is that still one of these ones,” —you nod gently at the stairs that do, in fact, lead to his office— “or somewhere else?” 

“That’s the right one, the very first door.” 

“Okay,” you give a soft laugh. “Thank you. This place makes me nervous.” 

You leave to travel up the steps. Emily and Spencer watch without any casualness as you approach Hotch’s office door, and give a little knock. 

It’s more surprising to see it tugged open so quickly after. Hotch usually says, “Come in.” 

“Oh, you’re here,” Hotch says. It’s to Spencer’s shock and Emily’s clear joy when he leans in for a hug. The bearhug kind, no politeness or manners about their intimidating boss as his arms cross behind your shoulders and he pulls you in. “You’re late.” He squeezes you. 

You let it happen. “I hate your building.” 

“What the hell?” Emily whispers. 

“I’m so happy to see you. Come on, come in, I ordered lunch for us already.” 

Emily is shameless. She takes Spencer by the wrist and encourages him to the wall below Hotch’s office as he ushers you inside. The door remains ajar, perfect for snooping, and Spencer doesn’t know what it is but he lets Emily drag him forward anyhow. 

“If that’s his girlfriend, he should be ashamed,” Emily whispers. 

Spencer raises his brows. “Did you think that was romantic?” 

“I’ve never seen him show affection to anyone who wasn’t Haley, and when was the last time she was here?” 

Spencer tosses it around in his mind. Sure, it was quite affectionate by Hotch’s standards, but the hug was so… uncareful. He’d grabbed you and hugged you like he was gonna shake you around for fun, like a dad hugs his daughter. “How old is Hotch?” Spencer asks. 

“You don’t think that’s his secret kid.” 

“No,” Spencer says, though he sort of does. 

Emily gestures for him to hush as your laugh drifts down from the office. “You did?” you’re asking. “It’s so nice to be home.” 

“Of course I did. It’s like I promised, okay? You finished college like I asked you too, you’ve done so well, and now I’m gonna make sure you’re happy. Like I tried to do for Sean.” 

“Sean,” you sigh. “He didn’t even answer my grad card.” 

“I don’t know what to say about him, I really don’t.” 

A small pause. “Well, at least you answered.” 

“You know I would’ve come to watch you walk–”

“But you couldn’t. It’s fine, Aaron, I wasn’t really expecting you to make it.” 

“I’m sorry. Really. And I’m proud of you, after everything.”

“Thank you… The bag was better than you being there anyways. Coach?” You laugh breathily. “My friends keep asking me if you can be their big brother too.” 

Emily and Spencer turn to each other, mouths agape, Emily slapping his arm as they struggle to make no noise. Since when does Aaron have a sister? A young sister freshly graduated? 

Hotch laughs too. “Come and sit before your lunch gets cold.” 

Emily gets out her phone to text Morgan, she and Spencer pressed to the wall with their heads ducked. Hotch is a total enigma, because what the hell sort of secret is that?

When Morgan appears, it’s with all the answers. He rolls his eyes at their clear position of eavesdropping but leans against Emily’s desk to give them the information they’re craving anyways. “She’s adopted. Hotch was already in college at the time, but they’re close. They get along a lot better than Hotch does with Sean, that’s for sure.” 

“He sounds protective,” Emily says, side-eying the office. 

“Look, it’s not my business, but I just know it was bad when she was a teenager. Hotch is a drill sergeant for a reason.” Ah, Spencer thinks. The Hotchner father. 

Spencer picks at his hands. It explains the conversation he shouldn’t have been listening to, to a degree. He feels the guilt of knowing something he wasn’t meant to like a sodden weight, retreating swiftly to his desk and his forgotten sandwich.

It’s nice to hear Hotch laughing, but it’s your laugh that draws him in again while he tries so hard not to listen. It’s as attractive to Spencer as your frown had been when you walked in. He thinks about how you finished college, how you’re here, and he wonders if he’ll see more of you —how often will you come in for lunch? Spencer checks his hair in his sleeping monitor and feels like an idiot. 

“I’m sorry,” Hotch says a little while later, elbowing open the door with his back to the office, “we’ll have dinner soon, honey, I promise.” 

You reach up to give him another quick hug. “It’s fine. It’s just nice to be in the same city again.” 

Hotch guides you down to the bullpen with the same pride with which he introduced Jack. It’s unmissable, the love he has for you in just one touch against your shoulder. “Y/N,” he says, pausing at the bullpen, “Derek Morgan you’ve met. This is Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.” 

“Spencer Reid?” you ask suddenly, looking up into Hotch’s face like he’s lying, your brows pulled together in indignation, before you turn back to Spencer reverently. “You’re Dr. Spencer Reid?” 

He gets caught on his own breath. “Uh, yes?” 

“The Dr. Spencer Reid who wrote Methods of Continued Fraction Expansions?” 

Spencer feels heat like a kiss to each cheek. “Yes.” 

You turn to Hotch with a suspicious pout. “When I told you about the paper I was reading by a Dr. Reid a few months ago, you didn’t stop to think it could be your Dr. Reid? Or you just don’t like me?” 

That’s a sister’s scorn if Spencer’s ever heard it. 

“I thought you said Rain.” 

“I don’t think you did.” You turn back to Spencer. “I can’t believe it, I emailed you about Jacobi elliptical functions, you were so helpful, I owe you my degree.” You put your hand out with a beaming, beautiful smile, Spencer’s stomach totally flips. “It’s amazing to meet you in person.” 

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he shakes your hand. You surprise him too quickly to think beyond taking your hand letting it happen. You’re, like, glowing. 

Hotch gives him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite. 

Spencer abruptly lets you go. “I don’t think you would’ve needed my help to get there in the end. You clearly knew what you were doing.”  

Hotch’s eyebrows silently rise. 

You turn back to Hotch again, your smile catching. “I like your friends.” 

He smiles. “Let me walk you down to the lobby, honey.” 

You let him guide you away, giving the present members of the BAU a wave with just your fingers before you go. 

Morgan and Emily look at him heavily. “Spencer,” Emily says. “What was that?” 

He doesn’t want to say what he thinks it was, so he doesn’t. “She was nice.” 

Morgan’s laughter is immediate. Spencer has to walk off to the kitchen for a cup of tea he doesn’t drink to escape him and the connotation of his laughing. Spencer hopes he’ll see you again soon, though if he’s half a good a profiler as he thinks he is, he might end up in trouble with your brother.

[bloodstainsandconfetti]

I think it’s important that we talk about Swansea and how he’s VERY MUCH SO meant to be a foil to Jimmy.

While Swansea comes off as grouchy, abrasive, and stubborn, the biggest thing about his character is that he’s HONEST. Brutally so. Meanwhile, Jimmy basically lies through his teeth to both himself, and everyone else, from the first moment we meet his character.

Swansea comes off as stubborn, as if he doesn’t take his coworkers seriously, not because he genuinely looks down on them but because he doesn’t want them to get hurt. While he does see Daisuke as just this naive young adult, we learn in the execution scene that he doesn’t necessarily see that as a bad thing. He wants Daisuke to retain that light that he lost as grew to become grizzled and exploited.

Swansea knows he’s good at his job and so he TAKES RESPONSIBILITY by making sure HES the only one doing the dangerous work. Because he doesn’t WANT to push it onto someone else and get them hurt. Meanwhile, again, Jimmy basically manipulates Daisuke into sacrificing himself all so Jimmy can make sure Curly isn’t dead in medical. (While not even caring what Anya does to herself)

Daisuke is basically Swansea’s “Curly” if that makes sense. There are multiple lines of dialogue that hint to him saving the pod for him, to give him the best chance of survival. However, when he gets horrible injured in the vent, instead of FORCING HIM TO STAY ALIVE in tons of pain (like Jimmy did w/ Curly throughout the whole game) he ends his life BECAUSE he cares about how Daisuke feels and not just how HE feels. Cause we all know Jimmy keeps Curly alive for very selfish reasons.

After everything, Swansea is extremely honest about who he is. The type of person he was and is and could’ve been. The mistakes he’s made, the things he actually cares about, even if they’re flawed or unhealthy. Meanwhile, even then, Jimmy continues to deny what he is and what is intentions are and what he really wants. He CONTINUES to refuse to take any sort of responsibility even when Swansea says to his face that he already sees past it.

Swansea is basically the narrative opposite of Jimmy, while also, funnily enough, kinda being used as a red herring at first. I mean, he’s the fat angry alcoholic old guy who carries an axe everywhere so ofc you’d expect him to be the bad guy. The story even shows you him trying to kill Jimmy/the player without context, to further sort of bait ur expectations. When in reality, he’s the one who saw Jimmy for what he really was before anyone else really did.

[nghtwngs]

I need a bob fic where reader is part of the thunderbolts and they start to notice small things from their room going missing, panties, chapstick, food wrappers, etc. and one day they catch bob in the act and instead of finding it creepy they find it cute. Blah blah blah they end up fucking

18+ mdni, dark content, perv!bob reynolds x reader, vaginal fingering, implied masturbation (bob), panty stealing, no pronouns for reader, first time writing a dark fic so hopefully this isn’t completely shit haha…

“What the hell? Where is it?” You frantically search through your bag, gaining Ava’s attention.

“What is it?” she asks, peering over your shoulder.

“My favorite lip balm. Ugh, I already lost the last one I had, and it was like twenty dollars. No way I lose it twice.” You continue digging through your items to no avail, turning your head to look at her. “Right?”

She shrugs. “Maybe Alexei found it. He’s been obsessed with lip balms ever since he found out chapstick is pretty much useless. But I think your real problem is that you’re buying twenty dollar lip balm in the first place.”

“Well, I don’t have a lot of nice products…” You sigh, nearly giving up after already an hour of rummaging through all of your stuff. “That one is just the one thing I like to splurge on a little.” You huff, crossing your arms. “It’s like something is eating up all my stuff. I lost a sock the other day too. It might just be that dumb, loud washing machine Valentina refuses to replace. I think she’s just keeping it there to spite us.”

“That thing is annoying,” Ava says, “but I’ve never lost anything before. I don’t remember anyone else complaining about having lost something either. Well, except that one time two weeks ago when Alexei lost his sunglasses, and we were making bets on how long it would take him to realize they were sitting on his head.”

“Ugh, I was really so close on that one too.”

He doesn’t hear you when you arrive just outside your bedroom door or when you’re twisting the knob to let yourself in. But he does hear the shock in your sweet voice when you try to ask him, so utterly confused as to why he’d be standing in your room, “Bob? What are you…”

His hand is still deep inside the drawer where you keep all your underwear—and suddenly, it’s like everything magically clicks into place. You should probably go apologize to that dumb washing machine for falsely accusing it of theft when the real thief is right in front of you, his cheeks blushing furiously.

Bob removes his hand from your dresser, hiding it behind his back like a child caught red-handed. “I can explain—“

“—What exactly?” you ask, scoffing as you cross your arms. “That you’ve been stealing all my shit like a pervert? You could’ve just asked, you know. Were you too shy to?”

“I…” He gulps, still burning with red-hot embarrassment as he says softly, “I’m sorry.”

“You steal my sock too?” You cock your head, an cruel grin growing on your face. “What could you have possibly done with that, huh?” You step closer towards Bob, glancing down at your panty collection. “Which one were you looking for? Or were you just pursuing?”

“The… the thin, light pink ones,” he softly answers, unable to meet your eyes. “I saw them when you were doing laundry the other week…”

“You won’t find them in there.”

You hum quietly, gently grabbing the hand that had been stuck deep in your underwear drawer and guiding it towards the waistband of your tiny skirt. Bob glances up at you, and you nod slightly. Rather than lifting the fabric up, he tentatively tugs it down to glimpse at the panties you currently had on—blush pink, the pair that had him fucking your sock just two weeks ago, imagining it was you.

It’s not long before Bob has you sat in front of him on the foot of your mattress, fingers pushing in and out of your drooling cunt in a steady rhythm. His other hand paws at your chest, thumb, wet from your saliva, swirling around your hardened nipple. When his fingers find that one spot that makes your thighs twitch and your walls clench, he lets out a breathy sound of pride. The hand that had been playing with your breast moves up to your whimpering mouth, fingertips pressing against your plush lips before gliding inside.

You’d already imagined something like this before, but your imagination pales in comparison to whatever this is. His fingers are stuffed so tightly inside you that your spit begins to spill out and drip down the two fingers he’s got in your mouth. A sad, little whine escapes your throat when he pulls his fingers out of you, beginning to circle the pad of his middle finger around your wet hole. He uses more pressure, pressing it into your clenching flesh without ever pushing it back inside, eliciting more gasps from you as you beg him for more.

“B-bob,” you call his name once his fingers glide out of your mouth, whining.

You feel way too empty, but you know you’re in no position to be making demands with the way he’s got you spread out like this. The part of your brain that’s completely melted from him fingering you pleads otherwise, however.

“Hm?” He’s really not trying to tease you, but he can’t help but make you wait a little. Seeing you all needy like this for just his fingers is doing wonders for his ego. And his cock.

“I need you.”

“Need what?”

“To… make me come…” you mutter under your breath before adding on for good measure, “Please.”

“You’re so sweet,” he coos, the pads of his middle and index fingers easily finding your clit, marveling at how wet you’ve become.

Your pretty folds are drooling down your sheets, but you probably won’t mind. He’ll volunteer to wash your bedsheets if you’ll keep letting him fuck you like this. You’re squeezing around nothing, one of your hands clutching the forearm of the hand he’s got wrapped around your thigh, keeping you open for him. He hadn’t even bothered to remove your underwear earlier, only sliding it to the side and away from your slit. The pink fabric now a darker shade from your own arousal.

Bob starts to feel your peak approaching once he’s slid his fingers back inside you to give you some relief. He can’t help it when he’s got the prettiest thing moaning his name like that. Your sounds of pleasure continue to grow louder, and he feels your cunt grow tighter around his hand. He picks up the pace, quickly pistoning his fingers inside your spasming walls to help you reach your high.

“I’m—Bob, I’m gonna cum—“ With another cry of his name, your orgasm washes over you, drawn out by the continuous force of his fingers fucking you, palm meeting your clit with delicious pressure.

You let out a string of breathless curses, limp in his embrace. He kisses up your neck to your temple sweetly. Another serene moment passes before you mumble, “Do you have my black pair of underwear? I wanted to wear it today. Couldn’t find it.”

“Maybe…” he replies in a sheepish tone, plucking at the waistband of your pink panties. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

“And my sock?”

“You probably don’t want it back…”

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Just a...FRIEND!?

Yandere Wally x reader x yandere dick

The rooftop was quiet, save for the occasional gust of wind and the distant hum of Gotham’s endless noise. You leaned on the railing, gazing out over the city, a carefree smile tugging at your lips as you hummed to yourself. The last rays of the sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky with a pinkish hue, and everything felt almost too perfect—if not for the two figures approaching behind you.

Dick and Wally landed on the rooftop at nearly the same time, their movements so synchronized that it could’ve been a well-practiced routine. The two of them smiled at you, their faces lighting up in that way they always did when they saw you. You turned toward them, glowing with warmth.

"Hey, guys!" you said with your usual cheerful tone, your eyes sparkling with that innocent energy that could melt the coldest of hearts. "How’s it going?"

"We were just thinking," Dick began, stepping forward, his voice smooth and teasing, "that you’re way too adorable for Gotham’s dirty streets. You’re too pure to be out here alone."

"Yeah, you need us to keep you safe," Wally added, zipping around you in a blur of red and yellow, his smile mischievous. "Can’t have you running around like a lost puppy in this city. You might get...accidentally caught by someone bad."

You giggled at their usual antics, but before you could say anything else, you innocently dropped the bombshell that would change everything. "You two are the best friends anyone could ever ask for. Seriously, I’m so lucky to have you guys!"

Suddenly, the air went still. Both Dick and Wally froze in place, their eyes wide in cartoonish shock. They blinked a few times, exchanging a glance that screamed "Did they just say that?" Wally’s mouth opened and closed, as if the word ‘friends’ had short-circuited his brain, while Dick’s expression faltered like a malfunctioning lightbulb.

"F...friends?" Dick said slowly, his voice warping as if he were testing the word on his tongue, unsure whether it was something delicious or rotten. "Did you... did you just say we’re friends?"

"F-friends?" Wally repeated, his face transforming into exaggerated confusion, his hands thrown up in mock disbelief. "No, no, no! That’s not it, [Name]. That’s not it at all!"

You blinked, utterly oblivious to the storm of emotions raging in their heads. "Yeah! You know, because you’re always there when I need you," you added, oblivious to the panic you’d just unleashed. "You’re such good friends, really. I’m lucky!"

The two of them looked at each other again, and the moment was almost comedic. Their faces drooped in unison like two sad puppies, their shoulders slumping in exaggerated defeat. Wally took a few steps back, and then dramatically fell to his knees, clutching his chest as if your words had physically wounded him. "Not friends... not friends..." he repeated mournfully. "We’re not JUST your friends, [Name]. We’re everything."

Dick’s face contorted as if he were about to burst into tears, dramatically wiping a nonexistent tear from the corner of his eye. "Everything, [Name]. We’ve been by your side for so long, and you think we’re just your ‘friends’? Just your friends?" His voice cracked at the word “friends,” like it physically pained him to utter it.

You looked at the scene in front of you, your smile still shining brightly, not understanding the depth of their despair. You stepped closer, concerned now. "Oh no, I didn’t mean to hurt you guys! I just thought... well, you’re always so funny and caring, and I couldn’t imagine being without my best friends." You reached out to pat their heads like you would a couple of puppies.

At your touch, their heads both jerked back dramatically, as if you’d touched a live wire. Dick suddenly shot up, eyes wide and glowing with an intensity that only came from his overwhelming emotions, his voice rising comically. "You can’t think of us like that!" he practically whined, throwing his hands into the air, his whole body leaning toward you. "We’re so much more than that! SO MUCH MORE!"

Wally shot up as well, his eyes narrowed with playful but pointed seriousness. "Yeah, we’re not just your friends," he said, each word stretched out like a cartoon villain. "We adore you, [Name]! We’re practically your... your... guardians!"

"But you’re also... your only ones," Dick added in a theatrical whisper, stepping closer and lowering his voice for dramatic effect, as though to make sure you understood the weight of the statement.

The two of them stared at you, wide-eyed and utterly intense, their faces impossibly close to yours now, as if they might crumble under the weight of your response. And yet... you still didn’t catch on.

You blinked again, completely unaware of how much you’d just altered the delicate balance of their emotions. "Oh, I see! You both just want to make sure I’m safe, huh? You’re really nice," you said with a cheerful grin, completely missing the thick, cloud of despair hanging over them.

The exaggerated silence that followed was the only indication that perhaps... perhaps... something had gone terribly wrong.

(A/n: I'm imagining this in classic teen Titans style animation... )

[oldsoul007]

not a lot, just forever

joel miller x reader

summary: joel keeps grieving about what could’ve been of you two had kids…

a/n: angsty but also fluffy

joel miller masterlist

Joel leaned against the weathered railing of the porch, the cool evening breeze ruffling his shirt as he watched y/n through the open door. She was inside the house, cradling Tommy and Maria’s baby in her arms, her soft laughter mingling with the gentle cooing of the infant.

The sight hit him harder than he expected.

He had seen y/n with children before—she was great with them, always patient, always so gentle. But seeing her hold that tiny, perfect little thing, with a look on her face that could only be described as tender longing, made something shift deep in Joel’s chest. It was a quiet ache, one that had been there for years but had never been so sharp before.

He knew that look. He had seen it in the way she held Sarah when she was younger, the way she’d always cared for the people around her. But now, watching her with Tommy and Maria’s baby, he realized something he’d never allowed himself to think too deeply about: the family she might’ve wanted—the life they could’ve had—was a dream that had been stolen from both of them by the outbreak.

Joel clenched his jaw, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat.

It wasn’t fair.

Not to y/n. Not to anyone, really. They had lost so much, so much that words couldn’t even begin to explain. But when he saw her, holding that baby, a different kind of loss settled over him, one that felt heavier than the weight of everything else.

He could never give her that. He could never be the man who could offer her the kind of future she deserved. He had tried, in the early days, to imagine a life beyond survival. But he knew better now. Every time he let his guard down, every time he allowed himself to hope for something, the world seemed to take it all away again. And this… this was one thing he could never give her—something simple, something pure: a family. A child of their own.

He pushed himself off the railing and took a deep breath. The ache in his chest was still there, gnawing at him, but he wouldn’t let it show. Not now. Not when y/n was happy, not when she was in a moment that brought her peace. She didn’t need him to carry that weight for her.

Stepping inside, he paused in the doorway, watching her with the baby in her arms. She was smiling down at the infant, her eyes soft with a mixture of affection and something Joel couldn’t quite name. She looked up and caught his gaze, her smile widening in that way that always made his chest tighten, even in moments like this.

“Hey,” I said softly, my voice warm and inviting. “Come on in. Maria said we could keep her for a little while longer.”

Joel nodded, his throat tight. He didn’t trust himself to say much, not with the lump still lodged there. Instead, he stepped closer, his footsteps quiet on the wooden floor.

He reached out, brushing a lock of hair from my face. I tilted my head slightly, my smile turning into something softer, understanding.

“I know,” I said quietly, reading him in a way only I could. “I know what you’re thinking.”

Joel gave a small shake of his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

I didn’t push, just offered him a look that was equal parts sadness and understanding. “It’s okay, Joel,” I murmured, my hand reaching out to rest on his. “I’m okay. We’re okay. It’s just… a moment.”

He swallowed hard, his hand trembling slightly as he placed it over hers. “I should’ve been able to give you that,” he said before he could stop himself, the words spilling out before he could rein them in.

I was silent for a moment, my gaze flicking to the baby in my arms before meeting his eyes again. “You gave me so much more than that,” I replied, my voice steady but full of emotion. “You gave me your trust. Your love. And you gave me the chance to live again, to be here. That’s all I’ve ever needed, Joel.”

The words settled over him like a balm, soothing the raw ache that had been gnawing at him. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the heaviness lifted, even if just a little.

He looked at her, really looked at her—the woman who had stayed by his side through the worst of it all. And in that moment, he realized that he didn’t need to give her the things he’d lost. What mattered was the life they had now, the one they were building together, despite everything that had come before.

He took the baby from my arms, his hands steady as he held the tiny life against his chest. She smiled softly at him, the love in her eyes undeniable.

And for once, Joel allowed himself to believe that maybe this—just this—was enough.

I sit on the couch, staring out the window at the setting sun, trying to settle the mix of emotions swirling in my chest. I know Joel’s been brooding; I could feel it even before he walked into the room. His footsteps are soft but heavy, his presence unmistakable as he steps inside

He doesn’t say anything right away, just stands there in the doorway. I can feel his eyes on me, on the empty bassinet where the baby had been sleeping earlier.

I don’t look at him. Instead, I say, “You’ve been quiet all day.”

He lets out a low sigh, stepping further into the room. “Just been thinkin’.”

I nod, knowing what’s coming but not sure I want to hear it.

“She is… somethin’ else, wasn’t she?” he says after a moment, his voice soft. “You looked good with her, y/n. Real good.”

I finally turn to look at him, leaning back into the couch. “She’s a sweet baby. But you know it’s not about her, Joel. Just say what you’re thinking.”

He hesitates, his eyes drifting back to the bassinet. “I can’t help it,” he finally says, his voice thick with emotion. “Holdin’ her, watchin’ you with her… I keep thinkin’ about what could’ve been. If the world hadn’t fallen apart. If we’d had a chance to…” He trails off, his voice catching. “To have a family of our own.”

My stomach twists, and I take a steadying breath. “Joel…”

He shakes his head, looking down at the floor. “I think about Sarah, about how things might’ve been different. I think about Ellie. And then I see you with that baby, and all I can think is… we never got the chance.”

I sit up, folding my hands in my lap. I know this pain. I feel it too, but I’ve had years to reckon with it, to make peace with what life took from us. “What do you want me to say, Joel?” I ask softly. “That I wish we could’ve had kids together? Of course I do. There was a time when I wanted that more than anything.”

He looks at me then, his face a mix of regret and longing, his hands still shoved deep into his pockets.

“But that’s not how life worked out,” I continue, my voice steady even as my heart aches. “And it’s okay to feel the loss of what could’ve been. But Joel, you’re all I need. You always have been.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his jaw tight, his eyes searching mine. “You mean that?”

I nod, giving him a small, sad smile. “I do. We’ve been through hell and back, Joel. And I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything. I just need you. That’s enough for me.”

Joel exhales slowly, like he’s been holding his breath. “I’m sorry, y/n,” he says quietly. “For not seein’ it sooner. For… not bein’ enough.”

I reach out, taking his hand in mine, squeezing it gently. “You are enough. You’ve always been enough. We’re here now, Joel. That’s what matters.”

The room falls quiet again, but the tension has eased. Joel sits down beside me on the couch, his shoulder brushing against mine. He doesn’t say anything else, and neither do I.

The bassinet is empty, but the space between us feels full—of love, of pain, of all the things we’ve lost and found together. And as the sun dips below the horizon, I lean into him, letting the silence say everything that words can’t.

“She’s lucky to have you watchin’ over her,” he says, his voice lighter now.

“And she’s lucky to have you around too,” I reply, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Uncle Joel has a nice ring to it.”

He chuckles, the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “Guess it does.”

We stand there for a moment, the weight of the past still there but just a little easier to carry. For now, that’s enough.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Remmy and sensitive!reader who misheard him talking with James and Sirius about something/someone and mistakes it as them talking bad about them. Reader avoiding Remmy for days, avoiding his touch and barely talking to him until he has enough and confronts reader who just breaks down into tears instantly

“No I know mate! It’s so fucking annoying!” You hear the words tumble out of Remus’ mouth with full frustration and freeze in the doorway.

He could be talking about anyone. Right?

James pipes up next, “There’s no way they don’t know they’re fucking annoying.”

Maybe it is you.

“Doesn’t seem like it. They’re just always there. Sometimes some breathing room would be nice.”

You’re convinced now by Remus’ words that it’s you they’re talking about and the frog in your throat swells and tightens your vocal cords.

Silently, you wipe the tears running down your cheeks and make your way to the bathroom.

Remus knows you’re home ten minutes after his phone call when he smells your peach body wash wafting through the bedroom.

“Hi dovey,” his words saccharine as he holds his arms open to you.

“Hi,” you don’t walk into his arms, instead brushing the curve of his shoulder as you go to your closet for your pyjamas.

“Something wrong?” He leans back on his palms, worrying his bottom lip as he watches you change in the closet.

You wonder for a moment how he could’ve been so cruel and now pretend like he wasn’t just complaining to James about how much you’re around him.

“Uh uh,” Remus’ alarms are going off and he stands up, walking over to you now that you’re dressed.

“Dove,” he murmurs, hands holding your thighs. “Are you upset with me? Have I done something wrong?”

Has he done something wrong? The nerve of him- and still you can’t find it in yourself to do much else than tear up.

“No,” your breathing is quickly becoming labored and Remus worries that you might make yourself faint.

“Talk to me, baby.” It’s the baby that does you in, all soft and honeyed and sugary sweet when his words earlier had been so harsh and jagged.

“You told James that it was annoying that I’m always in your space.”

“What?” His heart stops, mind whirring at the impossibility of your words.

Sniffling you carry on, “I heard you when I came in-“

“Baby, no-“ you cut him off.

“It’s okay to want your own space, sorry for crowding you before.”

God Remus could cry at how small you sound.

“We weren’t talking about you baby, you have to believe that.” His massive hands are cupping your cheeks robe, keeping your eyes level with his.

“You don’t have to lie, Rem,” Your tears are still tumbling down, nose running while you hold your breath. You have a strange feeling this is going to head into, ‘we should break up’ territory.

“I’m not lying, sweet girl. You can call James now if you think so, but I swear we were talking about Frank and his newest fling’s inability to not be all up in each other’s space every five seconds.”

You blink, “So you don’t want us to break up? You aren’t annoyed with me? Because if you are,” you take a shuddering breath. “I can take it.”

Remus tuts, “There’s not a possible timeline where I’d be breaking up with you. Baby, I swear on everything holy and sacred that I wouldn’t ever think let alone speak about you that way. We really were talking about Frank.”

You sigh, tension releasing from your muscles. “M’sorry,” you whimper, shutting your eyes as Remus stamps soft, sticky kisses to your face.

“Nothing to be sorry for, my love.” Remus kisses your forehead and then your lips. “I love you more than life itself, dove. Not a fucking thing I wouldn’t do for you, yeah? Best thing I ever had.”

Remus spends the rest of the night kissing and holding you, he even calls James up to reassure you that he’d never speak about you like that.

James is aghast you even wonder and promise you that if Remus ever lost his mind like that he’d kick his ass.

[milotraflgkl]

Safe Word

SANJI X FEM!READER !SMUT!

note: THIS IS A REUPLOAD!!! content: SMUT!, safe word mention, sanji being a loser but also amazing in bed, finger, eating out, praises. WC: 2346

Sanji slowly looked up at you, “A.. A safe word?” He muttered, his cheeks turning slightly pink and his tone softened as if anyone could hear you two when you weren’t even near the crew. His eyebrows pressed together and he licked his lips as he looked back down at the meal he was prepping, he took a moment to continue his work his eyebrows staying where they were before he turned to look back up at you. “Why would we need a safe word?” He asks, his facial expression stuck on confusion but as you watched you could see how it slowly shifted to worry. “I haven’t been, hurting you during it.. right?” He asks, as he stops what he’s doing and quickly rounds the counter to stand next to you.

His hands quickly came up to your face and his thumb brushed your cheek gently, “No! Not at all Sanji.” You reassured him, you paused for a moment your facial expression struggling to find a set emotion to land on as your lips pursed out and then were brought back in. You opened your mouth, “But I wouldn’t… mind if you were a bit rougher.” You finally spat out the words, you felt your body become hot and you knew that the blush was obvious especially since you could see Sanji turn into a bright red tomato. “Oh… Oh…” He choked out, you felt his hands become sweatier and he slowly took his hands away.

He turned away and made his way to work on his dinner, “We aren’t that far from the next island.” He spoke out, you snapped your head to look towards him. “Wha..What?” You muttered, “We will get a room on the next island.” He said, his voice was deeper and as you watched him you saw how red the tip of his ears were.

The next few days were pure torture and it didn’t help that Sanji was practically teasing you, the way his eyes would stare at you until you connected eyesight and then he’d move his eyes down taking in every single inch of your body. The way his hands would linger a bit longer then would softly move away from your skin leaving chills down your spine, almost feeling yourself lean towards his touch not wanting it to leave. You couldn’t do anything about it either, especially with the lack of privacy getting Sanji alone or even being alone yourself was a rare delicacy. But what you would do to just jump onto Sanji and let him use you for his, clear desires? It felt like it was taking years to get to the next island, your body aching in need the more you thought about how far the island was and yet how close Sanji was.

Finally, the day had come, the ship was put securely into a spot on the dock and the crew had finally decided on a good place to stay. Sanji and you were put in a room together because of your relationship but also because Sanji double-made sure with a quick request told to Nami. You felt yourself become more tense and excited for night to come, as the crew went about their normal routine of gathering supplies then heading to the closet bar to finally relax after so many days of sailing.

You sat at the bar and drank a small martini that had a paper umbrella in it, that was so graciously gifted to you by the bartender who had the hots for you. You didn’t pay him any mind more so lost in the thoughts of why Sanji had been so distant yet so close, as well as the sound of chatter and music taking up the rest of any other space that could’ve been left to think about the bartender who constantly had his eyes on you. You slowly stirred the paper umbrella around in the drink, your elbow against the counter and chin being held by your hand. As the bartender came over for the fifth time to interrupt your thought he asked if you were enjoying the drink and if you needed anything else, as well as sliding in a smooth flirt. You giggled at the notion, more flattered that he found you attractive. You denied a new drink and silently ignored his flirt unaware of the glaring eyes only feet away from you, it didn’t take long for you to notice when you felt a hand snake against your back and hold the side of your body tightly. You quickly turn and look up at Sanji who was already staring at you, a soft smile on his face and his beautiful blue eyes admiring your facial features. But most importantly your lips, it seemed that after a moment of looking at the top of your face, his eyes froze at your lips and didn’t move an inch. “Hi, Sanji.” You spoke out finally and his eyes immediately snapped to look back into yours, “Hi [Name].” He responds.

It didn’t take much longer until two of his fingers gently moved to find the bottom of your chin, pushing your head up a bit more before he leaned himself closer to you and pressed his soft lips against yours. You could taste nicotine fresh on his lips, he must’ve just come in from a smoke. You thought to yourself before they were interrupted by the feeling of his hand softly grazing your knee and moving upwards on your thigh, threatening to reach up the bottom of your dress. You looked down at his hand and grabbed it gently, “What do you think you are doing?” You ask him, Sanji looks at you with desire glossed over his eyes and his pupils blown out absorbing ocean-blue eyes. “I got us a room.” He responds as he squeezes your thigh gently his lips gently grazing against yours, you shudder at the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You nod unable to think properly about the situation you are in, Sanji gently moves his hand to grab ahold of yours and pulls you along with him as you leave the bar. Sanji leads you through this building and up the stairs until you find a room with the numbers that match the numbers engraved on the key that Sanji held in his off-hand. He slowly lets go of your hand and unlocks the door, stepping inside the room and then holding the door open for you as you step in afterward.

With one swift movement, Sanji grabs ahold of your waist and guides you to the bed, he’s gentle with his actions still keeping up his gentlemanly personality. His lips quickly find yours as well as his hand finding the nape of your neck to hold you closer, while his hand left on your waist gently pulls you closer to his hips allowing you to feel the bulge that pressed harshly against his nice dress pants. You moan as you feel him pressed against you and this only allows him to slip his tongue into your mouth, it’s slow at first the way his tongue dances along with yours before he becomes desperate for more as if he is starving and wants to taste more of your lips. You begin to run out of air and pull away from him, a trail of saliva connects between your tongues as you both look at each other with lust and need. Sanji didn’t waste any time as he moved back to you and kissed gently along your jawline, you tilted your head allowing him more access to your neck, and as if he read your mind his lips slowly trailed down your neck beginning to give gentle bites to it. He began to slowly suck on your skin leaving marks that would be visible to everyone the next day and as an apology for being so harsh he’d kiss it gently, his hand slipping up your neck and up to your head to hold it.

He wanted you to feel secure and safe before he allowed himself to go crazy, His hand on your waist gripped tightly before it found its way down to the bottom of your dress and slowly snaked its way underneath. It sent a shiver down your spine at the way his thin and cold fingers ran across your thigh ever so softly, it did make you feel extremely safe and well cared for. The way his fingers gently lifted your dress upwards and the hand that had held your hand slipped down to grab the zipper of your dress pulling it down. The straps of your dress fell off to the side and revealed your chest that wasn’t hidden by anything as you decided to not wear anything underneath. Sanji pulled away from your pretty and purple-decorated neck, his eyes slowly moved from your neck and down to your chest as he let out a shaky breath at the sight of you. “God… [Name]…” He moaned out as his hands slowly made contact with your breasts and held them gently before his fingers moved to gently twist at your nipples. The small whine you released from your throat was as if the angels from heaven were singing upon Sanji to come toward the gates of heaven.

Sanji didn’t spend any time before he reached his head down and his mouth found the soft skin of your breasts, he gently kissed it and then left a few open-mouthed kisses. “God [Name]…” His hot breath against your chest made you shiver, “You are absolutely beautiful.” He whispered against your skin, as his hands slowly moved from your breast and slowly moved to the rest of your dress tugging it down slowly until it rested against your hips. His hands shook against your skin almost with nerves that he could easily break you like you were the finest china in the world. His hands gently squeezed your hips before he continued to move your dress down your thighs, he took in a shaky breath as he looked at your lower body covered by lace underwear. You had to lift yourself slightly to get the dress to slip from under your butt and Sanji continued to take the dress off and then dropped it onto the floor.

He wasted no time latching his lips back onto your skin, his lips dragging down slowly before they reached the hem of your underwear and the feeling of his warm breath sent a shiver down your spine and a shock to your core. “Relax [Name].” He whispers against your skin, his hands slowly moving to push your shoulders back as a way for him to tell you to lay back which you did gladly. “I’m going to treat you tonight~” He hums, he looks down your torso to catch sight of your eyes and the two of you stare for a moment before you watch his curled brow disappear below down to your clit. His tongue dragged against the fabric and the feeling of his spit mixing with your already-soaked underwear caused you to whimper, “S..Sanji..”. You begged him as your hand found his golden locks to hold them. “Use your words, princess.” He speaks between your thighs, and you become flustered at the explicit words that you would have to say. “Please take my underwear off…” You beg him, your hand tightening against his hair which causes him to groan and send vibrations to your core.

“Of course princess.” He responds, his fingers sliding up from your thighs to grab the top of your underwear and slide them off throwing them off to the side. “So wet for me~” He sings out before he dives in. The feeling of his tongue caused you to yelp in shock and your back arched as his tongue began to swallow you whole, the feeling was so overwhelming as his tongue curled inside of you. His fingers followed after, and two of his lanky fingers slipped into you and found the spot that made you sing out that sweet sweet melody Sanji loved to hear. His fingers moved inside of you with such skill, that your back began to arch more. “Ngh, Sanji please…” You hummed out your knuckles becoming white from holding onto his hair so tightly, He didn’t he was relentless with his tongue as it moved inside of you. As he worked inside of you, his tongue hitting every spot and his fingers pumping in and out of you quickly.

You were squirming underneath him but his hands held onto you so tightly that all of your movement was limited, “fu..fuck” you muttered, “I’m… I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered out, but Sanji didn’t stop. He kept plunging his tongue into you relentlessly and his fingers continued to reach the spot, it didn’t take long before you began to release yourself into his mouth and Sanji took in every single last drop that you let out. Even with the sounds coming from your mouth, he held your hips tightly and didn’t seem like he was going to let go of you anytime soon. He swallowed your release and continued to eat you out, it took you a moment to realize that he was still eating you out. The feeling was becoming overwhelming and overstimulating, your legs began to tighten around Sanjis head which he slowly held your legs apart. He didn’t stop, he was eating you like it was the last thing he’d ever get to eat in his life. It took you a moment before you quickly slipped the safe word out, which Sanji stopped and looked up towards you. You watched his face emerge covered in your juices, “Princess… I’m not even done.” He whispered to you his pupils blown out.

[queenjulia11]

The scene with Dorian’s mom. God. I love the way Matt plays parents of all kinds, but this was one of his best if you ask me. We learn so much about her just in her introduction.

This woman is a public-facing figure who very recently lost a child, and you can see it on her face right away when Matt plays her. That neutral expression of having to do a mundane task like making tea, because for some fucking reason the world keeps turning even when you’re in the worst pain imaginable. And then she sees her other son who ran away and has been missing for almost a year, and she is immediately overcome with relief and joy just to see him safe again. She doesn’t blame him or tell him she’s been worried sick. She’s just so happy to see him again.

And of course she says no when Dorian asks her if she hates him. Because he’s her baby, there’s no universe where she could ever hate him. But I really appreciate how she doesn’t go on a whole thing like “oh my gosh, sweetheart, of course not, it wasn’t your fault, etc.” Because even though all of that is definitely true, she knows it’s not what Dorian needs to hear right now. He won’t believe it.

She just says “no.” She just takes the weight off of his shoulders and gives him space to break in a safe, comfortable place.

And Dorian; sweet, noble, anxiety-ridden Dorian, who has been putting others before himself and pushing his emotions and grief all the way down because of more important work for so long, finally has the time to truly mourn his brother.

And his mother just holds him. No one else is here but the two of them. He gets to be her baby again for just a moment. She is so proud, and so sorry. She wishes she could’ve done more for him. But she is doing the one thing she knows she can do to help better than anyone else: and that is hold her son until he falls asleep in her arms, just like he did when he was small.

There’s nothing like a good, long cry when you’ve been needing one for a long time. It opens you up to so much. I really appreciate how Robbie shows that: how Dorian is crying through Orym’s whole speech to him, even if it’s a happy moment. It really shows how safe he feels with Orym now that he can just let it go. I love how Dorian says “yes” before Orym has even asked the question because he doesn’t feel guilty for wanting things anymore. I love how he asks if they can take it slow because it still hurts too much to be happy. I love how he kisses Orym, and how he lets Orym kiss him.

This character has grown so dramatically over the years, and it’s been a spectacular thing to witness. I’m so happy Dorian feels comfortable enough to live as himself now with the people he loves, and how he continues to exist in this beautiful world despite all the harshness he’s faced within it. I’m so happy he gets to heal, as messy and slow as it will inevitably be.

Fair winds, Dorian Storm. 💙

[jaeyunluvbot]

i love you, i'm sorry

this is part one to my series emails i can’t send

note .ᐟ ermmmm so this one is actually based on my kind-of-situationship with my ex bsf and it actually hurt so bad to write so i hope yall enjoy :p

Subject: (no subject) To: (unsent)

Dear Heeseung,

This is so stupid. I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Maybe because I know I can’t say it out loud, not to you. I like this. Whatever this is. It’s fun, it’s easy, and I don’t have to overthink it when I’m with you. But sometimes, I catch myself wishing it were more. And then I remind myself that it’s not. I know we made rules and we both agreed, but I can’t help wanting more. I can’t be the only one feeling this. When you look at me like that, when you stay just a little longer than you should, when you text me first for no reason at all, I wonder if you ever think about it too.

Anyways, I’ll probably never send this, but it feels good to get my feelings out.

Yours,

Y/N

(Draft saved at 2:13 AM)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Subject: It’s fine

To: (unsent)

Heeseung,

You didn’t even hesitate. I know we’re not actually together but how could you be so sure in your words? That girl, that gorgeous girl who’s probably a way better fit for you than me, asked if you were seeing anyone and you said no so quickly. Right in front of me too, you didn’t even hesitate. You even laughed, I know it wasn’t personal, but is the idea of us being together so laughable to you? I guess it’s true that you’re not seeing anyone, that you’re not mine. Maybe you never were, but for some reason, I convinced myself we had something real. Maybe you were just afraid to acknowledge it, or maybe you just weren’t ready for something like that. I know now that I was wrong, so why does it feel like I lost something? Anyways, I don’t know what else to say, my feelings are immeasurable and somehow simple at the same time. I know I’m foolish but I’ll always be yours, even if you don’t want me.

Yours,

Y/N

(Draft saved at 11:48 PM)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Subject: I don’t know what I was expecting To: (unsent)

Today I asked you if this meant anything to you. You looked at me like I had just said something awful, and I knew at that moment, I had ruined everything. You said it wasn’t supposed to be serious and that we both agreed there would be no feelings involved, but I still fell for you. I suppose it couldn’t be helped. For a moment there, a perfect moment, I thought maybe you’d smile, and tell me you loved me too, that it was ok that I’d fallen for you because you’d fallen for me too. That was stupid of me, I know that now, but at that moment I really thought that all our late night conversations meant something to you. I wish I could hate you, or put you out of my mind, I wish I regretted it. But the worst part is, I don’t. I love you, and I think I’ll always love you, even if you never speak to me again. This is getting really depressing so I’ll leave it here, I just wish I could say this to your face.

Yours,

Y/N

(Draft saved at 3:27 AM)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Subject: (no subject) To: (unsent)

It’s been weeks since we’ve talked. I don’t even know why I still write these. Maybe because if I don’t, I’ll say it out loud. And if I say it out loud, it’ll be real. It’ll ruin everything more than I already have. I miss you. I don’t miss the way we ended, or the way you left. But the way you laughed at your own jokes before even finishing them. The way you always sent me songs in the middle of the night. The way you lingered, even when you didn’t have to. I know you don’t miss me, I saw you with that girl yesterday. I know you’ve moved on. But a small part of me hopes you’ll hear a song that reminds you of me and remember that I exist, and that I love you. I would’ve given you all of me, and I like to think, with some time, you could’ve done the same for me. I won’t send this because I know you won’t reply. But I hope, somewhere deep down, you miss me too.

Yours,

Y/N

(Draft saved at 1:04 AM)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Subject: I should stop writing these To: (unsent)

It’s been six months. Not that I’m counting or anything. I moved into a new apartment last week. It’s small, but it has these huge windows that let in so much sunlight. You would’ve liked it. Or maybe you wouldn’t have. I don’t really know anymore. I feel like maybe I never knew you. I got a job too. It’s nothing special, but it keeps me busy. That helps. I don’t think about you every day now. Only sometimes. Like when I pass by that convenience store we always went to at 2 AM. Or when someone laughs the way you used to. Or when I hear that one stupid song you kept putting on repeat. It’s funny, we weren’t even together and yet I still feel like maybe I once had a part of you like you had a part of me. I should move on, I think I’m moving on, but sometimes it still hurts. It hurts like it did when you were still here, when we’d spend all night talking and you’d leave in the morning. It’s weird though, the pain is comforting in a way, like a reminder that it was real, that you actually existed in my life. But it’s better now. I’m better now.

Love,

Y/N

(Draft saved at 10:22 PM)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Subject: No, but seriously, I should stop To: (unsent)

I ran into Sunghoon today. He asked me how I was doing, and I lied. I told him I was great, just busy and tired from work. He gave me this look, like he knew. We didn’t talk about you. But I could feel it there, hanging between us. You must’ve told them what happened. Or maybe you didn’t say anything at all, and that’s why it feels so much worse. I hate that I’m a stranger to you, someone you kept secret, when all I wanted to do was be with you, to show you that we could work, even if you were scared. I wish I never met you. I wish I didn’t give you the power to hurt me like this. It’s even worse because I know you aren’t doing it on purpose, I know you’re a good person, and that we just weren’t meant to be, but still, I wish I’d never let you in. I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe I should stop writing these.

(Draft saved at 12:37 AM)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Subject: I think I’m finally okay. 

To: Heeseung.

I don’t know why I’m still writing these. I think it’s just a habit now. It’s weird, when I think about us, it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. It’s like looking at an old photograph, you remember the moment, but it doesn’t feel like you’re living in it anymore. Like some kind of fucked up coping mechanism. The fact that you’ll never see these also helps, I can be honest and say everything I’m feeling, everything I could never tell you, or anyone, for that matter. Anyways, I finally started dating again, and I don’t compare everyone to you. I think that means I’m okay. Or at least, I’m getting there. This will probably be my last time writing one of these, since my therapist told me they weren’t doing me any good, and that I should try to completely stop thinking about you. So I guess this is goodbye, even though you won’t see this, I hope you’re doing well.

Love,

Y/N

(Sent at 1:58 AM)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Subject: I don’t know what to say From: Heeseung

Y/N,

I don’t know if you meant to send that. But thank you. I think I’ve read it a hundred times already. I keep wondering if you wrote it in a moment of weakness or if you’ve been holding onto those words for a while. Either way, I don’t think I deserve them. I don’t think I deserve to know how you’re doing. But I’ve wanted to ask for so long. I wish I could say I’ve been okay too. That I’ve moved on the way you have. But the truth is, I still find you in the smallest things. The songs I skip on my playlist because they don’t sound the same without you humming along. The space in my bed that’s too big now, even though you were never supposed to stay the night. The way I feel when I catch a glimpse of a girl who looks like you in public. I’ve told myself a thousand times that we weren’t meant to last. That what we had was temporary, built on borrowed time, that we were never serious, never real. But it never felt temporary to me. Not really. I guess I was scared, scared to let you in, and scared to get hurt. I thought that if I never let you get too close, it wouldn’t hurt as much when we inevitably fell apart. I was wrong. I should’ve let you in, I should’ve shared myself with you like you did with me. I regret it everyday. I should’ve reached out and said something, or I should’ve just been honest from the start. But it’s too late now, you’ve moved on, and I guess I have to as well. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Maybe I just miss you. Maybe I always have. Take care of yourself, okay? I hope you find happiness in someone who’s not afraid to love you openly.

Yours,

Heeseung

(Sent at 8:21 AM)

[zenokei]

blue lock manga chapter 271 spoilers, mentions, and analysis (this is an absolute word vomit)

my drabbles, understanding, and analysis on the itoshi family goes something like: when the itoshi parents didn’t know how to properly deal with rin’s behavior when he was little but sae seemed to be the only one that can ‘understand’ and ‘get along’ with rin—they unintentionally gave the responsibility to sae.

i suspect that their thinking is something along the lines of “sae seems like he’s got an understanding of rin that we don’t, maybe it’s better that way, he’s rin’s big brother, after all.”

and honestly, i think that’s why we as the readers find the itoshi parents “distant” from the brothers’ lives.

but do i think they’re bad parents? not necessarily, although i also do think that they could’ve done more. but given certain circumstances…it’s kind of subjective.

let’s talk about itoshi mom first

evidently, itoshi mom is a very concerned mother: she doubts herself, she worries for rin (and sae), and she’s generally lost.

and how could she not feel all those things?

i perceive this as she’s a mother who doesn’t distance herself from her children, but because she doesn’t know what to do at all, she seems hopeless and doesn’t have any solution to fix things. naturally, she has the instinct to do what a parent should in times like scolding, etc—however, this is blue lock, everyone has their own ‘ego’, yet some of those inner desires are just cultivated beyond rationality at this point.

(which strengthens my suspicion about the itoshi parents unconsciously putting the responsibility of rin’s behavior onto sae…)

now, itoshi dad

honestly, i don’t have much to say about him, he’s pretty hands off with what’s happening with their children.

as seen, he does seem more composed and lax about everything, and sae definitely got that from him. i wonder if it’s because of itoshi dad’s ‘talks’ (?) with sae that somewhat developed sae to be the big brother he was to rin back when they were little.

i believe the narrative is just implying that he doesn’t think much of the behavioral differences that rin and sae show, even when rin gets injured and gets in trouble, which is a little yikes on his end but that’s just what i understood.

most definitely, the siblings got the trait of being closed off from their dad, lol.

overall, i still don’t believe they’re bad parents whatsoever. however, i do want to talk about my recurring theory that the itoshi parents gradually placed the responsibility of rin’s behavior (and his whole development) onto sae.

let’s discuss the impact of itoshi sae

when sae was around 13-14, he went to spain, and during the pre-teen/teenage years of the itoshi brothers, their family seems rather peaceful.

the itoshi parents—aside from the pride and joy they felt about sae’s success as a rising soccer player—seem rather refreshed, anew, and just happier. they don’t carry the gloom of being worried for their children’s behavior anymore.

but why?

it’s because of rin and sae’s bond over soccer. from a young age, rin has joined his big brother’s soccer team as they both relished the games they could never play with anyone else aside from each other. basically, the itoshi brothers found what they were for. and they definitely got occupied over it.

though i’m only connecting the dots for my own analysis, i firmly believe that the moment rin played soccer with sae, he found a way for his destructive mindset to be utilized. through soccer—the only thing rin has been focusing on—rin was able to effectively let out his desire to break, destroy, and kill what’s “amazing/perfect”.

and who was the only one there by his side, every pass after pass and goal after goal? of course, it’s his big brother. the one to only truly understand and see rin from the very beginning.

honestly, it all makes me wonder if the itoshi parents ever talked to sae one-on-one about rin’s behavior. (which honestly makes sense, because sae seems like a pretty obedient kid). but at the same time, what are the chances it made sae extremely analytical, too?

i mean, sae was deemed a prodigy at what 7 years old? that’s seriously insane. so it shouldn’t be a surprise that all of what’s leading up to the ego of the itoshi siblings plays a big part. i’m leaning on the possibility that sae was somehow influenced by the itoshi parents to be more keen or observant on rin—that or sae was only doing what he did out of pure instinct, that’s entirely plausible.

however, whatever the course may be, the outcome that sae noticed something with rin (even before their ego in soccer) will not change.

from this point onwards is just my random babbles about the itoshi family’s relationship (kind of…)

“but when sae left for spain the itoshi parents didn’t appear to care about rin-” i am not hearing that. we should remember that blue lock is (honestly borderline but whatever) about SOCCER.

i believe the first ever backstory we got of the itoshi siblings was only soccer-centered, and in rin’s perspective/narration. why would his parents be included in his soccer career when they most definitely weren’t?

again, i don’t believe that they’re bad parents.

also, i doubt that itoshi mom would ever just stop worrying about rin, even when he’s grown up! in fact, i think that with sae leaving for spain, she probably felt even worried because their children are separated. yet at the same time, i do see her not knowing what to really do again. perhaps they had no cameo after the airport scene because rin found it irrelevant in regards to soccer and his ego.

but, then again, i’m very certain that the itoshi parents do care for their children, and are still connected to them somehow…just not when it comes to the field.

aside from the second backstory (the most recent one) they look out for them (i assume this goes for rin too). in the character book the egoist bible, sae mentioned how his parents send him salted kelp from home to go with his rice when he asks. additionally, we saw itoshi dad say in their first back story for sae to “take care of your health!” as he leaves for spain. the itoshi parents do seem to care for rin and sae as supportive parents of athletes, however, only in the sidelines, because i personally don’t think it goes deeper than that.

honestly, everything for me is pointing that the itoshi parents aren’t active and present in the itoshi brothers’ soccer careers. not necessarily implied, but in the ‘another blue lock: episode omotesando’, rin is the only one seen that has a ticket to sae’s japan triumphant match. a ticket sae sent—of which i assume—only to him.

although this is all still just my speculation, i am still leaning on that the itoshi parents aren’t really relevant in the itoshi siblings’ soccer life, but rather, they play a role in how they ended up developing.

that’s all!

again, this are just my own thoughts about this chapter. this is not canon by any means and i am not forcefully saying what i am discussing is right and should be deemed the only theory/ies out there.

i’d love to talk more about theories and analyses on blue lock, let’s chat!

[luveline]

I need more Hotch x teacher PLEASE, I’ll take anything 😭🙏🏻

Mr. Hotchner —call me Aaron, he always says, because he’s a bully— walks across the school grounds with his son stuck to him. 

According to your colleagues, Jack used to be more outgoing. Not extroverted, but friendly, with many friends and lots to say. But after the passing of his mother a few years ago he’s become a quieter child. It’s not uncommon to see him glued to his father or his Aunt Jess before school. 

You tuck your hands in your cardigan against the early summer morning chill. “Hello,” you greet as the Hotchners approach. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning,” Aaron says. His smile is a rare and lucrative sight; whenever he smiles at you like this, as though you’re some wonder he’s happened upon accidentally, it betters your whole day. 

“Good morning, Jack,” you say, a gentle prompt to see what mood he’s in. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi, buddy. You got your reading diary filled out?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Me and dad read Marlo again, I hope that’s okay.” 

You bend just a bit to be smaller, “You can read anything you want to.” 

“Dad says so too.” 

You and Aaron share a look. “Dad’s always right, huh?”

Jack nods emphatically. Aaron edges a half step closer to you, looking as though his hand is itching where he’s tucked it in his coat pocket. There’s something in it, you realise. He pulls it out and offers it to you covertly. 

“You left this behind,” he says. 

It’s one of your bracelets. You open your palm and let him tip the bracelet into your hand, curling your fingers closed, but not before the brush of his thumb has made you miss it against your cheek. 

“Oh, wow, I assumed I lost it.”

“No… it must have fallen down between my bed and the nightstand.”

You glance around, not as covert as you wish you were. It’s not that you and Aaron can’t date, but you perhaps shouldn’t, and besides that things are so new between you that it isn’t anyone else’s business either way. Plus, you have Jack to think about. He doesn’t know you’re seeing his father yet. 

You smile gratefully and tuck the bracelet into your pocket. “Thank you.” 

“Jack!” a blonde little girl called Sadie races up to you all and smiles wide. “Do you want to come and play with me? I want to try cartwheels before we go in.” 

Jack looks up at Aaron, who nods and leans down. He kisses his unwrinkled forehead. “I should be going soon. Be good today, okay?” 

Jack says his love yous as he jogs away with Sadie, his lunchbox forgotten in Aaron’s hands. “Want me to take it?” you ask. 

“Oh, yes. Please, honey, if you don’t mind.” 

Again, his hand brushes yours as he hands it over, his skin a reminder that he’s touched you now, and kindly, gentle fingertips trailing down your back as you dozed with your face against his chest. He’s so… perfect, in a way, such a caring person, you’ve never felt like this about someone. His proximity makes you wish you could go home with him now or follow him to work. It’s an achy feeling without being sore. 

“I never mind.” You watch him carefully as you talk, “It’s nice to get to see you every morning.” 

“It would be even nicer if we could’ve had the whole morning together,” he says agreeably, fondly. “Did you check your calendar for me? How are things looking next weekend?” 

“Very open for nice men who bring me jewellery.” 

“Don’t start,” he says quietly, his hand twitching toward yours, “or I’ll blow our cover.” 

“I wish you could.” 

“Me too, honey. I’m going to talk with Jack about it again this weekend.” He beams. “I wonder if he’ll change his tune this time.” 

When Aaron brought up the idea of you and him together to Jack, it had been as a simple hypothetical: How would you feel if me and Miss L/N wanted to be friends, Jack? 

He was ecstatic. Then we can see her all the time! he’d said. Aaron’s next port of call is to introduce the g-word. 

You and Aaron meet eyes, looking at one another, his hand creeping closer and closer to your side. He takes the end of your cardigan into his hand and feels it between his fingers, the slight touch, slightest movement of the fabric against your shoulder sending a shudder down your arms and chest. 

“Can I see you tonight?” he asks. 

“You aren’t busy?” you ask, surprised.

“Of course I am, I always am. But I think I have to see you.” 

Oh, you have to, you could tease. But you really need to see him too. “Just text me when you want me and I’ll be there,” you say, looking away from him toward the children and their racing. 

You’re glad you aren’t looking at him when he next speaks. “I always want you, but I have to go. Have a good day, honey, alright?”  

Jack’s lunchbox creaks in your hand. A funny soft kiss would be nice here, his smile pressed to yours. Maybe one day you’ll get one out in the open. “Thank you. Have a good day, too, Aaron,” you say, only looking up at him when you’re sure he’s crossed the school grounds to the parking lot. 

He looks back over his shoulder to you twice. 

[darnell-la]

𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥 ... 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗔𝗪𝗔𝗬

pairing: dark!pervy!professor!logan howlett x student!reader

summary: the job of a mentor shouldn’t be hard, but for Logan Howlett, it was when one of his best students wasn’t so innocent after all. professors are trained to hold themselves, but something within Logan wanted to release all out on that so-called innocent student.

warnings: Logan is a slight perv, nudes, anal, forced anal, rough sex, age gap, overpowering, degrading, jealousy, anger, cnc/SA, etc.

note: many of our supporters are asking for out-of-pocket Logan Howlett, and it’s so hard finding ways to write him in that way. REQUEST!

DO NOT READ IF CNC/SA MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

———

There has been a situation going on around the school. Some kids have made a hook-up app for mutants around the school. The professor found out after having to confiscate a student's phone for texting during class.

Professor Howlett has been investing, and trying to get several student's names to call the office and shut the app down.

By doing that, he used the student phone he had to take during class. Sadly, that student wasn’t a student people wanted to hook up with, or even go on a date with. Logan had no luck until a few minutes ago when an anonymous student messaged him.

“Hey, I know it’s hard to find people on here, but I was thinking we could maybe hang out?”

Logan couldn't stop laughing to himself, happy that he could put this shenanigan situation to the side until several attachments popped up on the phone.

At first, he didn’t think of anything, but as soon as he tapped on them to reveal what was sent, his jaw dropped.

The student was y/n, and the attachments she sent were something he would’ve never thought of her doing. Half of what was sent were videos while the rest was her masturbating with toys.

A specific one had stood out to him, which made him feel like the biggest creep there could be, but he couldn’t stop watching.

She had laid on her back so when she spread her legs, everything was exposed. She rubbed so much lube onto herself, that he was confused until she pulled a dildo out and pushed it against her back door.

The way she moaned, made him lost in the video. He hadn’t even known the video was five minutes long. He could tell she could barely take it up her ass, but the way she struggled and still tried was amazing. Especially when she finished all over the place.

“I’ve never done anal, so I’m afraid that’s off-limits. Anything else is completely fine though!”

Logan looked at her message, still thinking if that was all real. Was that really y/n? If this was anyone else, he would’ve called a school meeting in seconds, no matter how late it was, but y/n — He didn’t know what took over him.

“Send room number. Be there in 5. Look pretty,”

In y/n’s head, she thought how oddly the student typed. She hadn’t been around the student to know him fully, but she knew no student typed the way he did.

“Could I perhaps have some videos of you?” Y/n asked, making Logan’s heart skip a beat. “No need, Bub. I’m real,” Logan typed, making y/n gasp. Anyone could’ve figured out who the person was behind the phone after using that word. Bub.

“Logan? What the hell are you doing on here??” Y/n asked, only making Logan’s heart drop further. “What?” Logan tried covering himself off, but that only made y/n laugh on her bed.

“It’s fine, Logan. I like older men anyway. Have you done anything like this before?” Y/n asked. Logan wanted to throw the phone and spazz on how he could’ve blown his cover this bad.

“No,” the man replied, not knowing his cock had grown hard at the thought of y/n still wanting to proceed with the conversation. “Just come up to room 411,” Y/n said before going offline.

Logan had thought this would be easy to deal with since y/n never seemed like a student to blackmail people, but something ran through his head as he got up from his office chair.

How many people has she done this with? That thought alone boiled his blood. He had thought y/n was innocent, and one of the good students. She lied to him, telling him a few months ago that all she cared about was her training and education.

Y/n had fallen asleep after the first hour of Logan not showing up. She had thought he had maybe backed out, and she was fine with that.

Little did she know, Logan had been keeping himself back for the past hour. Everyone in this school is still training, even the professors, and though they can usually control themselves, this was a small situation that turned big.

Logan was mentally and physically going insane, wanting to teach a student he had trust in, a lesson for lying and doing this that wouldn’t help her training and education in the future.

He held himself back for as long as he could, but now he was walking through y/n’s bedroom door. Y/n had woken up from her sleep after hearing her bedroom door close and lock.

“Oh, hey! — I wasn’t expecting you. I thought you might’ve changed your mind,” y/n said as Logan basically ripped off his clothes until he was exposed. Y/n’s eyes widened at his huge and throbbing size.

“Where’s the lube?” Logan growled as he stared y/n’s figure down. She had fallen asleep in the little bit of clothing she wanted to surprise him in. “Uh, the desk right here, but, I’m not really into anal,” y/n assured for the second time tonight.

Logan ignored her and went through the desk she had pointed out to him. “On your stomach — Edge of the bed,” Logan said. He had barely given her time to move before he put her into the position himself.

“Sir, just my pussy, okay? I-I didn’t really prepare for anal tonight,” y/n said, hoping her professor would listen. Instead, Logan spread a bunch on her upper hole, and the rest he stroked his cock with.

“Okay, sir?” Y/n asked to know if he heard her. He did, but he didn’t care. Why would she tease him with that one video if she wasn’t thinking about her hole getting used tonight?

“Mr. Howlett, I said the other-“Y/n tried to get up, but Logan pushed her face into the sheets as his cock pushed through her walls, instantly feeling her grip him as tight as she could.

“Oh fuck,” Logan couldn’t believe how amazing she felt within seconds. “Mr. Howlett, please — I-It hurts a little,” y/n whined, shifting under him to feel more comfortable, but that didn’t matter as he pushed further into her until she was filled.

The scream she let out, was enough to make him leak in her already. “Be as loud as you want, Bub. Hank designed these walls for the privacy of the professors and the students — No one’s gonna hear how un-innocent you are,” Logan whispered in the young girl's ear before he leaned back up and began pounding.

The room filled with nasty noises in seconds. Logan couldn’t seem to get enough of what he was doing. It’s like something took him over once he felt the insides of y/n and the noises she could make.

“Logan, please,” y/n cried out, feeling like he would break her any second now. At first, she hated the way he didn’t listen to her, but after the first few pumps, she couldn’t get enough of it herself.

The feeling of her the Wolverine coming in her to have his way with her, degrade her, and even groan at how perfect she was, only send her gushing around his cock in seconds.

“You’re not so innocent, princess, so how about you cum on my cock again, yeah? Because this ain’t gonna be the last time I have you,”

[navybrat817]

Wish, Hope, Dream

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You thought a night would be long enough to clear your head, but a bit of doubt lingers in your mind. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Slight angst, insecurities, longing, Natasha and Sharon being both good friends and devil's advocates, ongoing AU, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) Previous Part of AU: We Don't Talk Anymore A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! Sorry again in advance, lovelies. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You thought having answers would give you peace and allow you to rest before facing Bucky in the morning. Oh, how wrong you were. The tussle between your mind and heart didn’t stop, giving you one of the worst nights of sleep that you could remember in a long time. At least your pillow had dried from your tears.

And what was it that you were crying for? Relief that Bucky had feelings for you or were you mourning the lost time you could’ve had together had you two talked sooner? Perhaps both.

“Just get up,” you mumbled, willing yourself to get out of bed and lay out a random sundress to wear.

You wondered if anyone else was awake as you showered and brushed your teeth. Guilt crept in for skipping out on game night. Whatever transpired between you and Bucky, you couldn't let any of those feelings bleed into the rest of the time with your friends. You had to suck it up no matter the outcome.

Glancing down the hall as you left your room, your gaze lingered on Bucky’s door before your footsteps moved in that direction. You raised your hand to knock, wanting to check on him and make sure he got enough sleep. Part of you was tempted to sneak in and crawl into bed with him. Not even completely for sex, which you did not need to think about, but to have him hold you close and assure you that everything would be okay.

And to stop torturing yourself.

But you let your hand fall. You didn't want to assume that he wanted to see you first thing upon waking up. Assumptions and not communicating were what led you on this path to begin with. But you didn't want to smother him.

We can still figure it out together.

You crept downstairs, spotting a few empty bottles from the night before. The main floor was dark, minus the sunlight coming in through the windows and the kitchen. You stayed quiet when you saw Natasha and Sharon huddled together in a hushed conversation by the counter.

Which stopped the moment you walked into the room.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were talking about you. Not with the concerned look in Sharon’s eyes. Natasha, on the other hand, stared back at you in contemplation. At least it wasn't pity. You couldn't take that.

Did Bucky tell them? Or did they figure it out?

“Hey. Sorry for skipping game night,” you said, shifting on your feet as your gaze flickered between them. “Guess Steve and Sam aren't up yet?” You asked, purposely not mentioning Bucky.

“Don’t need to apologize,” Sharon said, concern continuing to show in her eyes. “I think they’re getting a run in.”

“Oh. Gotcha,” you said. Looking between them again, you hoped things wouldn't be this awkward for the rest of the week. “Am I interrupting? I can just grab breakfast when you two are done.”

“Not interrupting. Go sit in the living room,” Natasha urged, nodding toward the direction of the couch. “Look like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Smoothie?” You guessed, glancing around at the array of fruit ready for blending.

“Oh, yeah. Better than coffee,” the redhead teased as she threw a few pieces into the blender with some ice, bringing a small smile to your face as you went back to the living room. She was a good friend.

All of them were.

“You okay?” Sharon asked, sitting beside you on the couch.

You hesitated for a moment. You adored them and always would. But when it came to Bucky, you feared everyone would always side with him over you. Your chest tightened at the thought that if things went south you’d get left behind.

And hadn't you been left behind once before?

“Yes and no,” you answered, not wanting to expand completely yet as Natasha walked in and handed you a glass, your hands gripping it tight. They didn't need to deal with your issues, did they? “Did Bucky talk to everyone? I’m guessing he said something since you two are looking at me like I'm going to break.”

“We don’t think you’re going to break, but you look on edge,” Natasha answered, taking a seat when you didn't disagree. “The guys talked to him a little bit. He wouldn't give them all the details, but we know you two had a long overdue chat.”

“And the way you bolted upstairs last night and how he looked like a kicked puppy, we guessed it didn't go well,” Sharon added, raising an eyebrow. “I think Nat wanted to kick his ass.”

“He looked like he kicked his own ass. Would've just been rubbing salt in an open wound if I did anything else,” she said with no trace of humor. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It may help,” Sharon said.

Maybe.

With a deep breath, you told the girls what had happened. How you and Bucky admitted that you had feelings for each other, which neither of them appeared surprised by in the least, but that you walked away from him once the talk was over. How you wished you would’ve given him a chance then and there, but didn’t. It helped and hurt to tell them about it.

You hung your head by the time you finished, your throat tight. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, swallowing a little. “This is supposed to be a fun trip and I’m messing it up with my issues.”

Sharon rubbed your back as you took a sip of your smoothie. “Hey. You’re our friend. You didn't do anything wrong or mess anything up, okay? We all love Bucky, but he's an idiot.”

“Huge idiot. Don't know what you see in him,” Natasha winked as you scoffed. You would always try to see the good in him, even when you were upset. “But I have to say, I’m glad you two finally told each other how you feel.”

“Took you long enough,” the blonde teased halfheartedly. “Kind of hoped you would've said something before we showed up.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. The gang ran late to the beach house on purpose. Of course, they did. The girls were perceptive. Always had been. “So, you knew.”

“Everyone knew, except for the two of you. What’s that trope?” Natasha questioned, her gaze directed at Sharon. “Idiots in love?”

“Oh, yeah,” she smiled. “You two are a walking romance novel, torturing yourselves for no good reason.”

“So, I'm an idiot then?” you said, narrowing your eyes when they both opened their mouths. “You know what? Don’t answer that.”

You beat yourself up enough.

“Like I said, I’m glad you told him and now you finally have confirmation that he feels the same way,” Natasha said, cocking an eyebrow. “What's the problem then?”

“What do you mean?” You replied.

“You said you took the night to think, but you don't exactly look like you're ready to move forward.”

“Because I don't know if I am,” you admitted.

You were overthinking the situation. You wanted to be with Bucky, but some of your wall was still up and you didn't know how to tear the rest of it down. Why was it so hard?

“Look, I'm not excusing what Bucky did because he's an idiot for going out with Dot instead of talking to you, but you know how he feels now,” Natasha began, diplomatic and level-headed like always. “Do you plan to keep him at a distance as a way to protect yourself? Or are you maybe punishing him just a little bit for seemingly abandoning you?”

Leave it to her to ask the tough questions.

“I'm not trying to punish him,” you promised. Both of you had punished yourselves enough. “I just don't want him to hurt me. I mean, I spent two years thinking he'd never want me, but he just didn't want to fight for me,” you said, tears brimming your eyes.

“Or maybe he thought he never stood a chance and settled,” Sharon said. “Which, again, he’s an idiot. Most guys are.”

“So, what are you saying? That I should just pretend the last two years didn't happen?” You asked.

“No,” they said in sync.

You huffed. Why were girls both direct and cryptic? “Then what are you saying?”

Natasha grabbed a tissue and handed it over when a tear slid down your cheek. “We’re saying that we think Bucky is genuinely sorry for his stupid assumption and wants you to be his girl. Start slow if you have to and set the ground rules. If it means him apologizing every day with his words and actions, he will. And we know if you gave him your heart, it would be the last thing he'd break. Don’t you owe it to yourself to be happy?”

“Yeah. Maybe just start with a date,” Sharon said, tilting her head when you didn’t say anything. They were only trying to help, but why did it feel like pressure of sorts? Did they fully understand your apprehension? “You really don't see how he looks at you, do you?”

“Why would I when I convinced myself he'd never want me?” You whispered.

Bucky had convinced himself of the same thing. Maybe the two of you were idiots. How long would you continue to torture yourself? They had a point. Why not start with one date and see where it led?

What would be the harm in that, besides risking your whole heart?

“Well, we see how he looks at you,” Sharon said, her eyebrows shooting up. “Wait. I have it.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Have what?” She asked. You wondered the same thing.

The front door opened before you got your answer, your heart skipping a beat when Bucky stopped in the doorway with a beach bag in hand. You realized after a moment that he was still in the same clothes he wore the day before, his eyes bloodshot as he looked your way. His hair was disheveled, too. He didn’t look like he slept well, if at all.

It broke your heart.

“Hey, Butterfly,” he croaked when you got to your feet, clearing his throat with a tired smile. “You look beautiful.”

“It’s just a sundress, Dreamboat,” you said, the compliment making your stomach flip before you took a step toward him. “Are you okay?”

His eyes lit up. “You’re still calling me that?”

“Of course, I am.” you smiled softly. He’d always be your Dreamboat. “Did you get any sleep?” You added, sighing when he confirmed your suspicion with a shake of his head. Had you been on his mind? “Why not?”

He gripped the bag handle like a lifeline. “I needed to find a way to say I’m sorry. Tried writing a letter and it wasn't enough.”

Your heart swelled, glancing back at the girls as they both gave you an encouraging smile. “Look. Before you do anything, why don’t you take a nap?” You suggested. “It’s still early and I’m not going anywhere.”

“A nap sounds like a good idea before volleyball,” Natasha said, leveling Bucky with a look. “In fact, why don’t you get him to bed?”

“Nat,” you hissed. Of course, she’d suggest you take him upstairs.

“Yeah, we’ll catch up with you two in a bit,” Sharon said.

The hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes was irresistible. “Come on,” you said, taking his arm once he kicked his shoes off. You felt his gaze on you as you took him up the stairs. It amazed you that he didn’t trip over his own feet since he kept his eyes on you. “I can tell you’re staring at me.”

“I half expected you to be gone this morning,” he said, opening his door. “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

Your stomach dropped. “You think I’d bolt after the conversation we had?” You asked. Did he think little of you now?

He chuckled under his breath. “I said half expected,” he teased.

Instead of releasing your arm, he pulled you into his room before you could protest. It wasn’t a good idea to be there, yet there you were. Not fighting it as he pulled you toward the bed.

His large, inviting bed.

“So, what’s in the bag?” You asked curiously to distract yourself as he set it down and stretched out on the bed, pulling you down with him. He gave you plenty of room so you wouldn’t have to cuddle close. He also left the door cracked open.

He was giving you an out.

“I can’t show you yet because I have to put it together,” he yawned, giving you an apologetic smile. “It’ll spoil the surprise otherwise.”

A giddy smile appeared on your face. He was actually going to make you something. “I’ll be patient,” you said, letting him keep your hand in his.

“Haven’t we been patient long enough?” He asked, his hair falling in his eyes as he gazed at you. Even exhausted, he was breathtaking. “I know you needed the night to think it over.”

The smile fell from your face, silence stretching in the room before you squeezed his hand. “Bucky, you need to get some sleep.”

He couldn’t mask the dejected look on his face. It wasn’t an outright rejection, but you hadn’t exactly declared that you should move forward. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said, his voice thick. “All I could see were the tears in your eyes and knowing I caused them.”

“It’s okay,” you told him. It was an assurance for yourself, too. You were okay and he hadn't tried to hurt you.

“It’s not okay,” he argued, the familiar determination back in his eyes. “And I don’t want to sleep. I want to make you smile. I want to win you a stuffed animal at the carnival.”

“You promised me that at dinner yesterday,” you teased.

“I want to take you dancing,” he added, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You could easily picture him smiling as he twirled you around and moved to the beat. Maybe that could be your first actual date. “As long as you don’t step on my feet.”

“I want to take you to bed,” he whispered,

You inhaled, your heart pounding at the implication. “Bucky…”

“I want to hear about your day. The little things, even the details that you think are mundane,” he said, scooting a bit closer. “I want to be the one you talk to and depend on again.”

Each declaration worked its way into your heart. Why couldn’t you just take the leap of faith? “We can’t just-”

“I want you to be my girl,” he said, his face inches from yours. “I want to give you everything.”

Your heart screamed at you to comfort him, kiss him, to tell him the same. “Bucky, you’re not giving me anything until you get some sleep,” you whispered, resting a hand on his cheek. He needed rest. “Please, for me?”

“I’m afraid if I close my eyes, I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone,” he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open. “I can't lose you again.”

You didn't want to lose him either. “You won't lose me because I’m not going anywhere. I said we’d figure this out together and I meant that,” you promised, needing to give him hope. “Close your eyes. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He finally shut them as he breathed out, “Butterfly, I lo…”

You gasped as Bucky trailed off, smiling to yourself as your eyes misted over. You weren’t going to run. Not from him. Not when you owed it to yourself to be happy.

You told yourself that as his phone rang.

Even as Dot’s name showed on the screen.

It's fine, lovelies! 😭 Things will look up. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[moonlight-alexia]

the questioning hour | steph, tiny & kyra

steph catley x catley!reader x kyra cooney-cross | if you want more for any of my universe pairings etc then keep requesting questions to ask them <3 hope you like it <3

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

What's your biggest fear of the relationship?

Steph: the two pests being together? Is that not concerning for anyone else?

Tiny: aw stephy loves us 

Steph: I never said that

Kyra: we know the truth stephy

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Who is more affectionate?

Tiny: Kyra easily 

Steph: You don’t even need eyes to see that Kyra is so clingy, needy, affectionate

Kyra: hey!

Tiny: it’s not a bad thing. I like my cuddly, clingy ky

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Most likely to get lost?

Steph: kyra and tiny obviously

Tiny: um steph

Kyra: psa don’t let steph direct if you actually want to get somewhere. She might seem like she has it all together but she can’t direct to save her life

Tiny: when we were in aus she had us drive 2 hours the wrong way before realising. Thought we were gonna have to sleep in the car 

Kyra: almost stranded in the middle of nowhere because of steph. Almost didn’t make it back here aliveeee

Steph: you’re so dramatic

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Most likely to get arrested?

Steph: welllll…

Tiny: shut it steph

Kyra: we technically weren’t arrested…

Tiny: just a warning 

Steph: I still had to come get you both

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[Kyra to Steph] What's the most challenging part of our relationship for you?

Steph: realising my little baby sister isn’t so little anymore she’ll always be that tiny five year old who used to throw the football at me and storm inside because i ‘won’ too many times

Steph: no but honestly? You’re both young, new to serious relationships and I didn’t want to see you hurt each other. Care about you both a lot, but you make each other happy so I can’t complain

Tiny: Ky! Steph admitting to caring about us and not hating our relationship?

Kyra: this is on camera right? Need to keep evidence that this happened

Steph: you see what I have to deal with

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[Steph to Tiny] What do you secretly wish I understood better about you?

Kyra: oh getting deep here

Steph: shut up Kyra

Tiny: well, maybe that I’m more than just your little sister. Like being seen as my own person. I love having your guidance and all but I want to make the same silly mistakes you did, learn from doing things and not just because you did it. Let me make mistakes but still be there to catch me when I fall

Steph: I’m so proud of who you’re becoming and I will do better for you. You’re my sister and I will always be there to catch you and hold you when you need it

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[Steph to Tiny] What's something that you need from me that you're afraid to ask for?

Tiny: well I was afraid to ask you to not hate Kyra after you found out

Steph: I didn’t hate Kyra

Tiny: eh, could’ve fooled me

Steph: maybe I overreacted a little

Tiny: a little? understatement of the year

Kyra: she doesn't hate me now so that's a...win...yes?

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[Tiny to Steph] What's your first memory of me?

Steph: you were like the size of a peanut-

Kyra: so nothing has changed then

Tiny: hey! I’m like several peanuts tall now!

Steph: -you were small and kind of weird looking

Tiny: but…

Steph: no, that’s it. Small and weird looking

[steddiehyperfixation]

let the sun rise

this is pure self-indulgent angst sorry. inspired by this post; written for @steddiebingo prompts: time loop + established relationship + saying goodbye | 2.9k words | T | ao3 |

Steve has been living the same three days over and over again. Just before the sun rises on Thursday, March 27, 1986, the day they’re supposed to defeat Vecna, he wakes up again in the Wheeler’s basement on Monday, March 24. He’s been at this for a long time now and he’s gotten pretty good at blending in with each loop, letting all the major events play out more or less they way they’re supposed to and being careful not to do or say anything that might make anyone think there’s something weird going on with him. But sometimes he slips. Sometimes, just sometimes, he loses track, the days all blend together and he says something he shouldn’t—a mention of Vecna’s plan that won’t be told to them until the sunrise that will never come, an offhand comment referencing a conversation that only happened in a previous loop and not the current one, or an exhausted complaint about going through something again. 

It’s always Eddie who notices these slips, always Eddie with his big worried eyes and careful attention who demands to know what’s going on with him and won’t let up until Steve either tells him the truth (which rarely ends well) or gives him a believable enough excuse (which is no small feat either; Eddie has always known how to see right through him). 

“I'm in a time loop,” Steve grudgingly admits this time, too tired to come up with anything else as he crawls into Eddie’s haphazardly remade bed, fresh bat bite wounds still aching. It’s been a while since he’s told the truth, and the loop will reset soon anyways. All they have left now are these few quiet hours while Nancy collects herself after her Vecna vision and the rest of them try to sneak in a couple precious hours of sleep. 

“Oh shit.” Eddie believes him instantly, always does. Still standing at the opposite side of the bed, he looks down at Steve with wide eyes. “For how long?”

“Dunno. Years, probably. It’s a three day loop and I lost track of how many there’ve been a long time ago,” Steve answers boredly, dismissively, hoping maybe this time Eddie won’t make a big deal out of it. “It doesn’t matter. It’ll reset soon and I’ll wake up on Monday.” 

“On Monday? Steve- sweetheart, why the hell didn’t you say anything sooner?” Eddie seems agitated already, hands moving fretfully as he speaks. So much for it not being a big deal. “You should’ve told me—the kids, Nancy, Robin—we could’ve helped you get out of it! We could-” 

“I don’t want to get out of it,” Steve cuts him off. It comes out a bit sharper than he intended, but it succeeds in giving Eddie pause. 

Eddie freezes, blinks, frowns. “What do you mean you don’t want to get out of it?”

“I asked for this,” Steve says. “I chose this.” 

“The fuck you mean you chose this?”

“I mean I chose it, Eddie. It's not a riddle.” 

(Steve couldn't cope after Eddie died. They got back from the upside-down, the hospital declared Eddie DOA, and Steve shattered. Not just his heart and his soul broke, but his mind snapped too. He put on a good face in front of the others, like a mask with artfully placed cracks to let only the appropriate levels and displays of grief through, but behind it he'd gone mad. He'd become obsessed. In private, he pored through books of ancient mythologies and occult rituals, lighting candles and chanting nonsense and spilling his own blood. Because if psychic kids and monsters from parallel dimensions exist, then surely there must be other things out there too—surely there must be something that could bring Eddie back. 

For weeks nothing happened, nothing worked, but Steve kept on trying, again and again, the very definition of insanity, until finally something did. Something came to him. In the dark, in the candlelight, the shadows gathered into a shape just at the edge of his peripheral. It hurt his eyes to try to look at it, and so he closed them. He didn’t need to see it, didn’t need to know what it was—spirit or demon or god; there was only one thing that mattered: “Can you bring him back?” 

It spoke to him in a soundless voice, words that bypassed his ears and slithered straight into his brain. I cannot, it said. 

“Then what’s the fucking point of you!?” Steve shouted, hands clenched into fists, fingers pressing into the gash in his palm.

I cannot raise the dead. I cannot undo what’s already been done. But I can give you more time, the thing whispered. He felt its presence move closer. I can take you into the past, let you relive the days before his death as many times as you need to. You will not be able to change anything, try though you might, but you can see him again, touch him and hold him as he was, alive. I can give you that, if you wish. 

Steve shuddered, the shadowy entity cold at his side. “Yes,” he exhaled. “Please. Take me back.”)

Eddie shakes his head, a refusal to accept that answer. “Why would you do that?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” Steve sits up and reaches across the bed to take Eddie’s hand. “Just come here and get some sleep. Please.” 

“Tell me why.” Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand but doesn’t budge, standing firm. “Why the fuck would you willingly choose to relive three of probably the most stressful days of your entire life over and over again?”

“Eddie.” Steve tugs at his hand, begging him one more time to drop the subject. 

“Why?” Eddie insists. “Why would you do that to yourself?” 

“Because you die, Eddie!” Steve blurts out, emotion getting ahead of his better judgement. “Because you die tomorrow and there’s nothing I can do to change it except make sure that tomorrow never comes. Because if I let this next sun rise, it’ll be the last one you ever see, and we didn’t get enough time. We deserved more time. So- so I was given a choice and I took it, I had to. This was the only way I could be with you again. This was the only way I could keep you alive.” 

(That’s as much as he can say without giving away his insanity. He told Eddie the full truth once, only once, in one of the earlier loops when he was still half-mad, manically pouring out the whole story of his grief and obsession and witchcraft. Eddie had backed away from him as if from something monstrous. “Steve, you’re scaring me,” he said, and Steve made sure to never tell that story again.)

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie mutters vehemently. He drops Steve’s hand and turns away from him, raking his fingers through his hair and exhaling a sharp, heavy breath through his nose. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Steve lets his dropped hand fall onto the bed like it weighs a ton, as heavy as the air between them and the words he’s confessed. “Please don’t get angry at me,” he pleads. He doesn’t want it to be a fight this time.

“What did you expect?” Eddie whirls back around. “You’ve been in this loop for years, I take it we’ve had this conversation before. So tell me, honestly, has there ever been a version of me that isn’t upset to learn that not only am I dead, but also that I’m the reason that you have been basically fucking torturing yourself for years?”

“No,” Steve admits. He doesn’t always act the same, so Eddie doesn’t always act the same—but whether it’s loud and angry or quiet and sad or somewhere in the middle, there has never been a loop where Eddie has reacted positively to any of this. And yet Steve still finds himself here, in loops like this one, desperate to make Eddie understand. “But it’s not like that. It’s not- I did this for you, so you could live!” 

That only makes things worse, it always does. 

“What, are you expecting a fucking thank you?” Eddie shakes his head, mangy curls flying. “You didn’t do this for me, you did this for you. Don’t you dare try to pretend like it’s anything other than purely fucking selfish. You haven’t given me any more life or any more time; I just reset, for you. You get to have all these extra years with me, but I’ll only ever have these three days with you.” His voice, though harsh and bitter, cracks; his eyes, though they blaze, are fractured and watery. “That’s not fucking fair, Steve. That isn’t right.” 

“It’s not right that you’re gone either! It’s not fucking fair that you died and you left me!” 

“Of course it fucking isn’t! But that doesn’t mean you go and stick yourself in a time loop, you idiot-!” 

“Fuck! Just stop yelling at me!” Steve sags back against the headboard, scrubbing his hands over his face and his stinging eyes. “I know, I already know. You’ve said all this before. I get it.” He drops his hands into his lap, tips his head back and closes his eyes as he sighs. He’s too fucking tired for this. Too fucking tired and in pain, and all he wants is to fall asleep in his boyfriend’s arms and wake up last Monday with this conversation erased from Eddie’s mind and a fresh loop ahead of him.  

Because Eddie’s wrong, he’s not torturing himself. Yes, they spend each loop in a near constant state of fear and stress, but they can still seek comfort in each other in the quiet moments; and even a panicked breath is still a breath, even a racing heartbeat is still a heartbeat, and Steve will treasure every second, every moment of proof he can get that they’re both still alive, together. That’s not torture when it’s all he’s got left. That’s worth everything. 

“There’s only a couple hours left of this loop,” Steve mutters wearily. “Can we please not waste it arguing with each other?” 

Eddie sighs in surrender, a slow, controlled huff like he’s still seething a little, but Steve can feel the worst of his anger beginning to curb into something softer. After a moment, the bed dips beside him and an arm slides around his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” Eddie says. He tugs Steve close and presses a kiss into his hair. “I don’t think you’re an idiot. I think you’ve just got too much heart for your own good, and I’m flattered that I mean so much to you. But…I also think that you need to let me go.”

Steve opens his eyes to Eddie’s soft, sad ones. It’s unbearable. He ducks his head, settling it onto Eddie’s shoulder and burrowing even further against his side. “Yeah,” Steve exhales a humorless laugh, “you’ve said that before too.” 

“And you’ve never listened,” Eddie says the obvious part out loud.

“No,” Steve confirms. His eyes close again, exhaustion pulling at him. “I don’t want you to die.” 

“Well, shit, sweetheart,” Eddie gives a dry, shaky laugh of his own, “I don’t want me to die either. I’m kind of really fucking terrified actually. I mean, given what we’re up against, I’m sure it’s gruesome and horrible—and don’t tell me,” he adds quickly when Steve starts to open his mouth to comment. “But you already know, don’t you, because it’s already happened for you. I’m already dead. I’m just…I’m nothing but a ghost to you now.” 

“No, you’re real,” Steve insists. He shifts to wrap both arms around Eddie’s waist and rest his head against Eddie’s chest, right over his heart. It’s beating a bit fast now—contemplating your own mortality will do that to you—but it’s beating, it’s beating. “You’re not a ghost. You’re alive.” 

“Only for these three days,” Eddie says, quiet with the effort of keeping his voice steady. “That’s not living, that- that’s not life, it’s just an echo of it. Countless echoes, but the real me is already gone. You have to let me go.”

“Don’t say that.” Steve holds him tighter, desperately, throat closing up with panic and grief just at the thought of losing him again. He buries his face in the dingy, unwashed fabric of Eddie’s Hellfire Club shirt like an ostrich burying its head in the sand. “Stop saying that. Just let me keep you.” 

“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie whispers, and he holds him tighter too, his other hand coming up to run gentle fingers through Steve’s hair, “my Stevie, I’d let you keep me forever. But not like this. Not if I can’t keep you too, and especially not if keeping me is keeping you from living your life. I need you to live, Steve.”

“And I need you to live, Eddie,” Steve counters, mumbled petulantly into Eddie’s chest. This conversation is going in circles and Steve wishes Eddie would just let him sleep. He’d be lulled off in seconds by Eddie’s warmth and his soft hands if only he’d stop talking and making Steve want to cry.

“Steve-” 

“Stop,” he begs, voice breaking into something just short of a whine as it passes through the lump of emotion in his throat. He doesn’t want to hear this anymore. 

“Steve, look at me.” Eddie tugs lightly at Steve’s hair to get him to lift his head, pushes gently at his shoulder to peel him away from Eddie’s side. Steve tries to fall back into him, but Eddie’s hand slides from his hair and holds his chin up with firm fingers, forcing Steve to remain locked in Eddie’s intense gaze. Which would be incredibly hot if only the circumstances weren’t so devastating. 

Steve has to look at him now, no matter how tumultuous an ache it leaves in his chest. Eddie’s face is tear-stained, water tracks tracing streaks in the layer of grime left there from all the trials of the past few days, but his expression is hard-set, determination and resolve pulled tight over all the quivering emotions behind it. Steve has never seen him look so grave, so serious and sad and scared all at once. And even like this, he’s beautiful. 

“I don’t want to die. There is so much more I want to do with my life, and if I have any choice at all in the matter, I’m gonna fight like hell to keep it; I can promise you that,” Eddie tells him, words a little rough around the edges with how much he means them. “But if everything you’ve told me is true—if I really am doomed, if I’m already dead—if I can’t live, then you have to. Not just the same three days on repeat, none of this time loop bullshit, I mean really, actually live. If you do anything for me, do that. Let the sun rise, let me have my last day, and go have the best fucking life.” He speaks emphatically, urging, demanding, pleading. His unwavering eyes never leave Steve’s, even as fresh tears well up and collect in beads on his lashes. “Please. Can you promise me that?”

Steve manages a tiny, noncommittal nod and pitches forward to pull Eddie into a kiss—if nothing else just to shut him up, but also, maybe, just in case this time it might really be their last. It certainly feels like a last kiss, has all the desperation of one, all the clumsy fervor and salty taste of tears.

But Eddie recognizes it as the evasion it is and doesn’t let him get away with it. Though he indulges the distraction with equal, if not more, desperation for several long moments, he soon pushes Steve back. “Promise me,” he says again, a bit breathlessly now but still just as serious. “I need you to promise me you’ll let the sun rise. Don’t just placate me, don’t just shut me up, promise me.” 

Steve’s stubborn tears finally spill over as for the first time he finds himself truly considering it. For the first time, his denial is not as immediate; for the first time, Eddie’s words and pleas have started to sink in somewhere he can’t ignore, and he knows, somewhere deep, that he should let go, he should move on. If only the idea didn’t make his whole body shake and the monster of his grief tighten its claws around his heart.

They look at each other with haunted eyes, hold each other with trembling hands. Just a couple of scared kids—Eddie scared to die and Steve scared to live without him, both of them trying hard to have the courage to face the inevitability. But Eddie has always been the braver of them (though he’ll never quite know it), and being in a time loop has made an excellent liar out of Steve. 

“I promise,” he says, with enough softness and sincerity that Eddie lets him kiss him and curl up close again without any more argument. They whisper goodbyes to each other instead of goodnight as they lay down to sleep, Steve settling his head back on Eddie’s chest and finally drifting off wrapped blissfully in his arms. 

He wakes up on Monday, March 24th, and he tells himself it’s only for a little while longer. 

[jikooklove9795]

Helloooo! I loveee Jk and Jimin. Actually I love all 7 of them. They are interesting individuals and immensely talented as a group. My question is about Jikook. I watched hickeygate (very funny and iconic moment in their story). I have seen other pics of JK with hickeys but zero for Jimin??? What gives??? Hahahaha

Hi 😊

Yes! BTS is incredibly special. Their sincerity and strength have created a lasting impact that goes far beyond music. I'm so glad I got to know about them!

Now, let's dive into your ask! Ready?

So you're saying Jimin is the giver? Well, let's see. We have seen him kiss Jungkook's neck several times. But here's the real kicker, the two times Jungkook was undeniably spotting hickeys it was Jungkook himself who pointed it out. So, it is more like Jungkook loves to draw attention to the fact that Jimin leaves marks on his body.

The first time we saw a hickey on Jungkook was in that car pic, back in December 2016. And get this: he was the one who posted it. We wouldn't have known about this otherwise.

Back to the pic, Jungkook's sitting there with a dazed, sultry expression, and boom, a very obvious hickey on his neck.

And here’s where it gets even more interesting. Remember that Dec 2016 Jinjikook VLive? Toward the end, Jimin asks if he can leave to go to his room with the phone while still on live but Jin says no since he borrowed that phone for that particular live. You can actually see Jimin seriously contemplating running off with it anyway. And you can see how Jungkook pulls out his own phone already anticipating what Jimin's gonna do.

Jimin tries to bolt, but Jungkook holds him back by the waist. And here’s the hilarious part, Jimin turns around and asks Jin why he’s holding him back, even though he clearly knows it’s Jungkook. Yeah, Jimin let's make it more obvious with you acting oblivious.

Then Jungkook says, “I took a good selfie,” and pulls up a pic on his phone

As soon as Jimin sees it, he changes instantly. Like, zero hesitation. He says, “I won’t go.” Just like that. Jungkook, looking smug, doesn’t even show the pic to the fans after all that hype. The live ends but the chaos doesn't.

Because later that night, Jungkook posts that exact pic on BTS' official X acc. The one with the dazed, sultry look and the hickey front and center

At that point, do we need to guess who gave him that hickey? The way Jungkook used that pic to make Jimin stay and the way Jimin instantly backed down? That pic said everything.

The second time Jungkook was spotted with a hickey, he didn't want to play the code game anymore. So, he flat-out said who gave it to him. If he didn’t want us to know, he easily could’ve covered it up, brushed it off as a mosquito bite, or joked it away. But no, that’s not what he wanted.

He wanted us to know it was from Jimin.

Because seriously, what was he thinking, showing up to rehearsals together with Jimin, proudly displaying that hickey like a badge of honor, and then casually explaining the whole backstory? A very gay backstory at that. And let’s not forget: he wouldn’t even let anyone else touch it. Only Jimin.

There's no other explanations to it. Jungkook wasn’t just marked — he was thriving in it. It’s like he wanted to say, “Yeah. He did this. And I’m not just okay with it — I love it.”

Jungkook operates on a whole different level when it comes to Jimin. Quietly (not really) bold. Undeniably soft. And just a little reckless in love.

Jungkook wearing Jimin's mark isn't limited to the above moments. It's a whole lifestyle.

1) Bringing back how Jungkook plucked those J and M balloons out of PAJAMA PARTY and stuck it to his chest. Went to Jimin, stood in front of him and said J M, Jimin

2) A few weeks after the above moment he gets tattoos. First, he gets the ARMY tattoo and then later he gets the J. Let's talk about that beautifully unhinged decision to place that J right on top of the M. Intentionally stacked so that when anyone reads it, it says ARMY, JM. I lost count on the innumerable times he's flexed it.

3) And those JM tattoos? Notice how they're, darker, bolder, standing out among the others. That's emphasis. That's priority. That's love permanently engraved and unapologetically visible.

4) Remember Jimin's name written across Jungkook's abs with sunscreen. He looked like a walking love letter. But what really seals the deal is his face. Glowing, lit up. The boy is radiant and we know exactly why.

He carries Jimin. Flaunts him. Wears him like art. And makes damn sure the world doesn't miss it.

5) Jimin giving his ring to Jungkook and Jungkook wearing it

6) Jungkook wearing Jimin's earring

Just little pieces of his bf. Shared, worn and loved.

7) Remember White Day 2022? We all saw that pic of Jimin and Jungkook dining at a restaurant together with Jimin's friends, right? Well, in that pic Jungkook is seen wearing a cap. And we have seen Jimin wear a cap like that. The cap which had "Jimin" written at the back. So, it's either Jimin's cap which Jungkook was wearing that night or both of them have customized caps like that. But looking at the above patterns, I'm leaning towards the first assumption.

8) Jungkook wearing the shirt which was a bday gift for Jimin from one of his fansites

9) Jungkook has a moon cycle featured in his

My You video

On the cover of his Me, Myself & Jungkook photo card and also on the Time Difference photo coaster

And we all know it’s Park Jimin who has a moon phase tattoo on his back.

Honorary mention: Jimin's name written on Jungkook's ear piece.

10) How are we not supposed to talk about this moment? Jimin lands in NY, and not long after, they're at a restaurant for dinner together with staff and crew. And then this comes crashing in

Jungkook, looking absolutely radiant, smiling like he’s just had the best time of his life... and spotting scratches on his torso.

He’s glowing. Thriving. Giving off serious "I had an amazing time with my bf".

And let’s not pretend we don’t remember the details. Jimin, freshly waxed and flying out of SK to spend a few days of quality time with his bf. By the time he reached NY it was Silver Day in SK.

And we all remember how Jungkook couldn't stop touching those legs in AYS, don't we?!

Those scratches were the aftermath of their well spent couple's time.

And here's a pic of Jimin's nails

This is how he maintains them. Long enough to leave those scratches Jungkook's torso was decorated with.

Why would Jungkook want the world to know that its Jimin who left those marks on him?

Jungkook’s love language more often than not isn't verbal. Instead it's gestures, actions and attention. It's how he lingers near, how he chooses to stand next to that person and how he let's his actions speak for him.

To reveal something that personal, like a hickey, a shared moment, or even just naming Jimin in that context takes trust.

Trust that their connection is solid enough to handle the weight of public gaze.

Trust that what they share behind closed doors is strong enough that no rumor, no camera, no stray comment can shake it.

When Jungkook openly links something so intimate to Jimin, it’s not just affection — it’s a quiet declaration. He’s saying "This is someone I feel safe with. This bond — it’s real. You might not see all of it, but I live in it every day.”

That kind of trust isn’t casual. It’s built slowly, in private moments, through quiet understanding, shared vulnerability, and emotional safety.

So when Jungkook lets us see even a hint of that intimacy, it means the foundation is deep. Solid. Unshakable.

Because what they have? It’s not a performance. It’s theirs.

Now let’s talk about Jimin. It's not just Jimin who leaves his marks on Jungkook but it goes the other way too. There are actually two moments where I noticed marks on him.

One being this

I'm aware that Jimin went through his appendix surgery. The surgery was on Jan 31st and this concert was on April. This dark patch in the pic spans a wider area than a surgery scar. It looks more diffuse and not linear or surgical in shape. It also sits a bit higher on the waist than where a appendix incision scar is to be expected. This is my own conclusion. You can draw your own opinion.

And then the other time being this

It's always on the moles. So, just like Jimin, Jungkook also likes to leave his marks on the moles. Interesting.

This is from the ARMY membership live.

This is one of my most favorite moments from this live

Here, Jimin was asking Jungkook what he wanted for his upcoming bday and this was how Jungkook responded. This moment gives me flashbacks about the "Do you have a desire, Jungkook?" And how he points to Jimin and then proceeds to explain that he believes we know what he's implying.

Alright, I'll wrap it up here.

Thank you for sending this ask. I loved answering it!

Take care 👋🏻