#Heal N Soothe Pills

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐎𝐑 .

# with trafalgar law.

your captain was nothing if not thorough — and as talented doctor, he offered quite a luscious method to help with your cramps.

⎰ & KINKTOBER. smut (mdni!). period sex. bloodplay. fingering (reader!receiving). blood!tasting (menstrual blood, yes). afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.3k.

trafalgar law was a doctor — sadistic, yes; self-taught, of course; but one regardless. his mind was attuned to his crew’s health properties, from allergies, to those who had a lower immunity system; from the divergent blood types to medical-related phobias. bepo hated oral medicine with overly sweet tastes; jean bart, although sizable, could not stand needles. and you had a set of quite awful cramps, enough to leave you bedridden until the week’s ending. it was, without an ounce of doubt, your most prominent issue — the one who bought him the greater worry. it left him wary enough then, yet said coddling had a gradual increase once he engaged in a relationship with you.

law had the interval of your period scheduled; committed to memory. pain medicines were reserved with the purpose of aiding you; thermal bags were both heated and freezed beforehand. he researched herbs with soothing properties and went as far — a proof of his love, he would add — as inquiring the straw-hats’ cook on teas that could, somehow, offer some respite. law had tried on a dozen sets of solutions, which one to no avail, for your ache lingered regardless of the chosen method. it left him with an ever-present bitter taste at the tip of his tongue, as the man was unused to said hopelessness, all but forced to sit back and witness your pain without a decent manner with which to soothe it.

you were not present for breakfast that morning, whereas bepo had a sheet with your shifts and duties, dividing them with shachi. for your pain was too sharp, you were granted a week-worth of rest, unallowed to lift a weight heavier than a plume. ikkaku had then entered the shared kitchen, holding an emptied cup — whose previous contents he presumed to be water — and discarding a plastic, pill bottle of a potent medicine he had prepared, a week prior. ikkaku informed him that you were resting — a bit nauseous, as expected, yet nothing quite worrisome — and though the woman had not read underneath the lines of what you stated, law understood it well enough. you were discarding his lingering aid, willing to withstand the cramps without him, for law grew twice as frustrated every month, and you had noted.

he left the kitchen right thereafter, his mood souring. it was ridiculous; unfathomable. law was a doctor — a surgeon — who had healed life-threatening diseases and wounds, yet failed to soothe the merest cramps; to offer comfort to the one he loved the most. he clicked his tongue, rummaging through the books in his office, convinced that he was but missing something, prideful enough to refuse the perspective of succumbing to a thing such as morphine.

nerves. brain chemicals. it should not have taken him that long to figure that out, but it did — and he was fuming. orgasms increased the blood flow; released endorphins; decreased the levels of cortisol. how could have he forgotten that? law clicked his tongue regardless, filled with clear annoyance at himself as he strived for your shared bedroom with ikkaku, delighted, at last, at the fact neither of you would be bothered, for the crew, too, was well-aware of the intensity of your pain.

he knocked — once, twice. not an answer was received, yet law entered regardless, eyes getting used to the overall darkness of the room, granting him the sight of your figure underneath the bed sheets. he approached you, placing a hand on your forehead; relieved to know you were far from feverish. your knees were pressed to your chest, and he could see slight eye-bags, pointing to a clear lack of sleep due to the pain. you were dozing off, unaware of your surroundings, set for a nap. he felt a pang of guilt as his arms removed you from your solace, holding you bridal-style, the activation of his powers leading you both to his own bedroom.

“law?” you inquired, nuzzling closer, a bit confused at the sudden shift. your voice was rough — pained —, and he caught himself filled with the urge to protect you, yet again.

“did i wake you?” he murmured, landing you on the mattress with certain tenderness.

“no,” you lied, ever more comfortable at the press of the sheets under your sore body.

law hummed, not believing a thing, yet not willing to pester you either. instead, he placed a set of pillows under your hips, caressing your cheek with calculated gentleness.

“i figured something that might help,” law whispered, allowing his hand to travel down your neck.

“i took some pills a while ago,” you meekly pointed out, sighing in relief as his fingers brushed against your collarbone. “and that infusion you made me drink tasted like shit. no offense.”

“none taken,” he reassured, licking his lips as his eyes swallowed the sight of you. “it’s a more pleasant one, if you’re willing.”

you stared at him through a half-opened eye, intrigued despite the context. you wore a thin, silken nightgown, the straps slipping past your shoulders, not much left for the imagination. it gave him a glimpse of your curves; your breasts; the underline of your underwear. law spared a mere glance at his sheets, deciding the incessant brushing of the blood stains right thereafter would be far worth it, so long as he could claim you. his hand hovered over your covered intimacy, applying a natural pressure, however neither forceful nor demanding.

“if you’re willing”, law repeated, and you licked your lips, wincing ever-so-slightly at a sudden, sharp pang. he could see the mental effort required for the production of words, soothing your unspoken worries with a caress of his thumb. law was a doctor; blood did not phase him, rather brought forward certain excitement. he all but wished for you to understand that. “i’m willing.”

“are you sure?” you croaked out, pain so sharp you could barely keep your eyes open.

“let me take care of you,” he pleaded, with half the mind to be ashamed of the desperation in his own tone.

you offered him a curt nod of agreement; limp frame conceding to his guiding touch. law raised the nightgown past your arms, throwing it somewhere in the room. with his knees sunk on the mattress, frame towering over your laid one, he began removing your underwear, shuddering with anticipation at the sight of blood staining your pad. he hummed, regretting the eagerness that led to a lack of proper preparation, for he had neither towels nor medical gloves to contain the flow of your period. yet, his mind could not help but point out a singular thought — did he care enough about the mess to be bothered, when you were in such dire need for relief? indeed, he didn’t.

with particular attention, he discarded the underwear and panties on the ground, allowing your hips to be supported by the pillows, without a single preoccupation regarding the possible blood stains. instead, lithe fingers trailed down towards your intimacy, a pair traveling through your folds; testing the waters. law leaned forward in order to have a proper glimpse of your expressions, yet failing not to have his eyes wander to your hardening nipples. he hummed, index meeting your clit as he drew circular, slow movements on it.

the texture of menstrual blood did not seem so far off that of your pre-cum. perhaps thicker, a bit warmer, with the biggest divergence being the color; nothing else. as a digit busied itself with your swollen bud, law teased your entrance with his pinky, grunting as a clot of blood brushed against the touch.

“talk to me, baby,” he rasped out, eyes tethered to your face as his thumb increased the pace of its ministrations on your clit.

you breathed out meekly, fingers gripping the sheets, nose scrunched as you grew accustomed to the stimulation. the blood made the sliding of his thumb faster; erratic. the lascivious sound of your aroused cunt filling the room. law felt his mouth grow dry at the sight, diving into one of your breasts, swirling, warm tongue on the hardened nipple being the solution he found in order not to lap at your blood instead. your back arched, a drawn-out mewl escaping past your opened lips as he ceased the teasing of your clit, wrist angled in a way that had his index and middle finger sliding inside your entrance with extreme ease.

“faster,” you pleaded, a bit of strength returning to your voice.

law thrusted his fingers, knuckle deep, attempting to reach the deepest inches of your walls. the natural shade of his skin returned mingled with red, the tattooed E and A but a mere memory of black underneath the crimson curtain. it was stickier than the river-stream texture of one’s blood, a stubborn line connecting the middle of his fingers, breaking apart only when they were shoved inside yet again, scissoring your walls with regained fervor. he spared a glance towards your growing blissful expression, grunting at the flutter of ideas that wrapped themselves around his mind, failing to ignore the possibilities as his own blood flushed to his hardening cock.

it smeared the fabric of the pillowcase and trailed down his palm, and law spared a brief ounce of attention to the other, neglected breast, using his free fingers to pinch at your nipple before his lips detached themselves from your chest with a single ‘pop’. he adored your tits — really, could not phantom a week without his mouth sucking bruises on it — but on that particular moment, law wanted to observe the in-and-out of his fingers inside your cunt, to commit the blood-coated digits to memory. the tip of his index abused your g-spot and he all but licked his lips, starved for a taste.

your moans were but an angel’s choir, and law had to fight the urge to let a pathetic whimper of his own escape past his lips, for he was, at last, helping you; being the one to demolish the source of your pain. yet, despite his own previous delay, he could not help but to be a little egotistical, lust clouding his scarce selflessness.

“is it better?” he questioned, and you nodded meekly, eyes dazed; pupils blown.

“y-yes,” you stuttered. “don’t stop, please.”

and though his legs began to ache and his cock ached amidst the coffins of his underwear and jeans, law increased the tempo of his thrusts, adding a third finger at the assurance that your walls were parted enough. you bit the back of your hand, swiftly muffling a shout. law groaned, using the thumb of his other hand to draw circles on your clit, marveling at the speed with which blood invaded the inside of his nail; smeared the poor digit.

“i’m close, baby,” you warned, without a need per say, for he noted the approach of your orgasm through the manner with which you clenched around him; impossibly tighter.

“let go for me,” he encouraged, retreating his fingers to the point of his nails before thrusting them yet again, knuckles bloodied; palm sticky.

your entire figure trembled, legs desperate; back jumping from the mattress. his glance was enraptured by the sight of your cum, white mingled with red, an ever-crescent battle whose stage was the pillow underneath, growing wet and dark at the onslaught of your essences. law removed his fingers, raising them to the light, obsessed with the strings intertwined around them; the state of his nails; the memories of parted clots staining the digits. he was but hypnotized, ignoring the confused calling of his name, the ever-so-grateful words you poured into his ears. instead, law began to drag his bloodied fingers on the flesh of your bare stomach, pupils blown with lust as the shade of you, too, grew smeared.

law wiped his fingers clean, and was swift to insert two of them inside your sensitive entrance. your body the canvas, whereas your cunt was the pallet, sheltering the red dye that would grant him the creation of a masterpiece — one he strived to ruin, for law was far from an accomplished, patient painter. he continued with the drag of his fingers on your flesh, from your ribs to your hip-bones; from your breasts to the spot under your navel. at every brief thrust of his fingers, teasing of your folds, you sucked in a harsh breath, your entire body reacting to the somewhat overstimulation.

when law could not hold himself back any longer — the famished beast gnawing underneath his ribcage — he dived in, tongue wiping the mess he had made. law left long stripes of saliva in its wake at every lick, his mouth sucking newer bruises on certain inches of flesh. the taste was not as metallic as he had expected, not as strong, either. it had a lingering bit of salt amidst the iron, for it was mingled with your cum, and both made for a thicker, stretchier combination on his tongue, an unique texture he had never tasted before. law spared particular attention to your breasts, hungrily lapping at it; collecting every last drop of lingering blood.

he distracted you from the fact that his pants and underwear had slid off from their previous position; that his leaking cock had slapped his stomach before he guided the tip to your abused entrance. when law pushed an inch inside, your eyes widened, hands wrapping around his neck out of instinct.

“can i?” he inquired, pressing his palms against the mattress, one at each side of your head.

“yes,” you breathed out. “please, baby.”

law was careful, a languid shove of his hips stretching your walls until he bottomed out, grunting with his eyes closed. he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, breathing into your mouth as he began to move — thrusts with a wild tempo, the incessant chase for his own orgasm. a crown of blood wrapped itself around his tip, his entire girth a shade of bright red; pale pink. law hid his face in the crook of your neck, moaning as your hands slipped under this shirt, nails dragging on the bare skin of his back.

he brushed against your g-spot; thrusted himself deep enough to challenge your cervix. you moaned, pain long-forgotten as his tip all but drooled inside your walls, spreading them open without an ounce of mercy. law’s knees buckled; you began to squeeze his girth as though a ruthless, famished beast, so tight he would not be able to slide as freely, was it not for the present blood.

“cum for me again,” law encouraged, meeting your glance, his voice raw and desperate. “let me—ngh—take your pain, baby. c’mon.”

you whimpered, a broken, mute moan preceding the second tide of your orgasm after a particular harsh set of his thrusts. your expression, contorted in pleasure, had him removing his cock swiftly, pumping it twice before shooting his load on your stomach, mouth agape at the blood that surrounded his shaft; stained his palm. law struggled to collect his breath, shifting in order to sit on the mattress and offer his knees a well-deserved rest, one of his hands meeting your own as he intertwined your fingers together.

after prolonged, tired minutes spent in comfort within the walls of a bedroom that reeked of sex, sweat and blood, your voice echoed.

“i liked this method,” you whispered, and he angled his head to get a glimpse of your face.

“yeah, me too.”

— 🐈‍⬛ : damn this writer’s block got hands!!!! jokes aside, i love freaky law!!!! send more freaky law requests i’m going to get thru this writer’s block 👏 by writing more 👏.

[finelinefae]

sick bug [tattooH x innocenty/n]

synopsis: y/n works too hard and harry just wants her to be okay

word count: 3.5k

contains: fluff

a/n: hope u enjoy the first of many blurbs for flower !!

. . .

Y/N never ever, ever gets sick.

Ever since she was a little girl she had always had a strong immune system and even when she had the slightest hint of a cold, she’d gulp down a few pills and get on with her day. 

It was a trait within her family to never let anything stop you from working, not even a sick bug. She distinctly remembers the first and only time she had caught something during high school. She had been one of the last people to catch a bug that had been travelling around groups of students and it just so happened to be during exam season. 

Despite the hammering headache and the constant shivers, she went straight to school to complete her exams after her mother had given her herbal medicine she couldn’t seem to name- that she believed had some kind of magical healing properties- and a packet of ibuprofen. 

Now that she ran a flower shop most days of the week, getting sick was a total inconvenience. There was always too much to do and not enough days in the week, so getting sick would just be a waste of time that could be used to get things done.

That’s what she kept telling herself, over and over, as she blew her nose into a tissue for the third time in the last ten minutes and swallowed two headache pills to ease the throbbing in her skull. 

She was arranging flowers into vases as customers wandered around the shop. Her eyes could barely focus on the flowers she was cutting and arranging; she was constantly taking them all out and starting again. What was meant to be four vases of perfectly arranged flowers, was only one. 

She was uncomfortably warm. Even though she had layered herself with three jumpers, she did so only because there were moments when she would suddenly feel cold and shivery. The heating was constantly up and down despite the fact it was the beginning of spring. 

This was another reason she couldn’t allow herself to get rest. Spring was the busiest season, flowers were beginning to bloom and people were rushing to buy new flowers for the season to decorate with or send to loved ones. 

There was just too much all at once and being sick was not allowed.

The morning had gone by in a blur - literally. Y/N couldn’t seem to remember who walked in and out of the shop too busy thinking about not throwing up every five minutes. It seemed the only person who could gain her attention as he walked past the shop window, was her tattooed boyfriend next door. 

She quickly pulled out her purse and took out a pressed powder to powder her nose with, hoping it would hide the redness of it. She stretched her cheeks and forced the biggest smile she possibly could when the bell rang and Harry stepped in through the door. 

In his hand, he had her bento lunchbox that he had prepared for her the night before like he always did because she seemingly always forgot to eat whenever she worked. “Hi flower,” His voice was like warm soup that soothed her belly. 

“Hi Harry,” She walked into his arms and nuzzled her face into his soft, fuzzy sweatshirt. He smelt like pine and ink and all the things she loved that made her feel warm and cosy. Her arms wrapped around his middle as her eyes fluttered shut, she could have drifted off as his hands pressed against her back, playing with the ends of her hair. 

“Y’ tired sweet girl?” He murmured, “Working so hard?” 

Y/N squeezed him tighter, wanting to mould herself into him so she’d never have to leave the comfort of his warmth, “Not really,” She lied, finally looking up at him. 

Harry held her face in his hands and brushed the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone, “Remember we’re going out tonight so don’t work too much,” He warned her, knowing she was prone to working herself too hard and passing out once they stepped into his or her apartment. 

Y/N’s stomach plummeted. She’d completely forgotten that Harry had asked her to come with him to a birthday dinner down at a bar that evening. She had made a mental note earlier in the week to pick out an outfit but had completely forgotten about the entire thing. She felt awful especially since Harry had been looking forward to introducing her to some of his friends and just spending time together in general. It was all the more reason why she had to hide her sickness, just until the end of the night. 

“I won’t,” She forced a smile, “For the rest of the day I’ll sit right here and won’t move a muscle,” 

Harry chuckled, “Yeah? Sit there and look pretty? Tha’s not so hard for you m’love,” His lips pressed against her forehead. She hoped he couldn’t feel how warm she was. “C’mon flower, made y’ favourite for lunch.” 

By the end of the day, Y/N had hoped she'd feel a bit better, enough to join dinner at least, but she felt even worse than she did in the morning. 

Her movements were slow as she closed the shop for another day, trying not to move so much or she’d feel her stomach turn. The mere idea of going out, let alone eating something with her upset stomach, made her feel queasy but she’d push through for Harry. 

She had little energy to tidy everything completely so she pushed it all to one side and switched the lights off before locking up. Harry wouldn’t be finished with work for another hour which gave her some time to pick out an outfit before the dinner party. 

With laboured breaths, she ascended the steps to her apartment, each step feeling heavier than the last, until finally, she reached her front door and pushed it open. Marshall rubbed against her leg as she tried to kick her shoes off of her aching feet, “Hi Marshy,” She mumbled, stumbling over to her bedroom and straight to her wardrobe. 

She plucked a few things off of the hangers, none of them matched or looked fancy enough for dinner, but she wanted something comfortable. Her eyes glanced at her bed as she held the dresses up before the mirror. It looked so inviting, all made up and cosy. She'd been longing for a nap all day and maybe if she took one now she’d gain some of her energy back for dinner. 

With a sigh, Y/N dropped the clothes on the floor and succumbed to the temptation of her bed. She pulled out her phone and set a timer for twenty minutes, knowing Harry wouldn’t be back before then. 

As she slipped under the covers, the warmth and comfort of her bed enveloped her. It was what she had been seeking all day - to cocoon herself in blankets and fall asleep so she didn’t have to deal with being sick. Her eyes fluttered shut and it wasn’t long before she drifted off into a much-needed nap, hoping it would ease the discomfort she had been feeling all day.

. . .

“Flower,” His voice was in her dreams, “Can y’ wake up f’ me a sec?” 

Y/N frowned, feeling something cool and damp pressed against her forehead. Soft kisses press against her exposed arm, “Harry?” She mumbled, her eyes slowly opening only to realise she wasn’t dreaming of him at all.

He was right there in front of her, sitting on the edge of her bed and pressing a damp cloth against her forehead. “There’s m’ pretty girl,” He cooed. 

“You’re here,” She sighed, her eyes groggy from sleep and her head heavy against her pillow. She reached for the hand that wasn’t holding the cloth, clutching it to her chest. 

“M here, lovie,” He sighed, “I wish y’ would have told me y’ weren’t feeling good.” 

“I’m fine,” Y/N lies, her eyes falling shut again to block out the light in the room. 

“Y sure about that flower? Found you up here passed out when I came to pick y’ up for dinner,” The word seemed to trigger Y/N’s memory as she shot up in bed, ignoring the pulsing of her head and the way the room spun. 

“The dinner! Harry, we can still go, I set an alarm and we still have time, I made sure of it.” Her head whipped in the direction of the clothes she had left on the floor. 

Two hands curled around her wrists to pull her attention away from the thoughts that were whirring in her mind, “Baby,” He murmured, “The dinner started an hour ago. I told them we couldn’t go as soon as I found you lying here all feverish.”

Y/N’s lips parted, registering his words as he waited patiently for her to respond. Suddenly, her eyes burned until tears began falling from them, rolling down her cheeks. Harry’s eyes widened, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away her tears before they could even fall onto the duvet. “I-I’m sorry Harry,” She cried, “I know you were so excited to go to dinner with your friends. I never get sick, I don’t understand why this is happening.” 

Harry’s eyes softened as she clung onto him, “Flower,” His heart was hurting for her. He always knew she worked hard, he saw it every day with his own eyes, but not to this extent. He figured this was from more than just a sick bug and that she’d been over-exhorting herself to the point where her body was turning against her to get some rest, “Hey, what are these tears for hmmm? No more cryin’ m’love.” He kissed her tears away, tasting the saltiness on the tip of his tongue. 

“‘Course I was excited for dinner,” A fresh set of tears filled Y/N’s eyes but Harry quickly continued, “But only because I like spending time with you. M’ friends will still be there but you are always, always, my first priority in everything.”

“You’re not mad?” She whimpers, feeling more angry at herself than anything.

“Not about tha’ but I am a little angry y’ didn’t tell me y’ weren’t feeling good. Never seen someone so warm in m’ life flower, scared me half to death.” He was trying to be stern with her but he couldn’t help but also show his worry for her. “Think you’ve been working yourself a little too hard hmmm?” He stroked her head, pushing her hair back from her sweaty forehead.

“I haven’t been sick in so long,” She admits, “I was hoping it would go away by the end of the day but, honestly Harry, I feel terrible. M’ throat is all scratchy and my tummy hurts too.”

“Think y’ body jus’ needs a well-needed break from all tha’ running about you do. Honestly Flower, never seen anyone work as hard as you do.” He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Gonna let me take care of y’ tonight?”

She nods, relaxing at his words of comfort, “Okay Harry,” She whispers. 

The corner of his lip twitches, “What am I going to do with you?” He sighs, completely in love with her. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against hers, not minding the warmth radiating from her in fact he welcomed it, “You’re everything to me. Can’t have y’ getting sick.” 

Her eyes fluttered shut feeling his cool breath blow against her lips like he was trying to breathe new air into her to get rid of the sickness, “I really am sorry for not being honest and for the dinner.” 

“S okay but y’ tell me from now on? Everyday okay? Tell me the truth about how y’ feeling,” He needed that from her and she promised she’d give it to him. 

He smiled when he received a quick nod in response to his request, “Alright then, are y’ hungry? Want something to eat?” He asked. 

“Not really,” Y/N pouts, the thought of food didn’t exactly appease her stomach right now. 

“Y’ don’t want soup? I make a mean cup of soup, flower. I hear it can cure even the worst of sicknesses.” Her eyes squint and he’s desperately holding himself back from rubbing his thumb over the dark circles under her eyes. 

“What kind of soup?” She questions, her eyebrows furrowing.

He leans forward, puckering his lips against her top lip, “S a secret.” He murmurs. 

“Can I help make it?” Her eyes round because she knows it will persuade him - it always does. 

“You can sit down and keep me company but I don’t want you up and about.” She sighs but accepts the answer and holds her arms open. Harry smiles and lifts her up, his arms under her butt as her legs wrap around his waist. 

He walks to her kitchen and places her on the kitchen counter, moving around to the different cupboards as though he owned the place. He knew exactly where she kept everything, gathering ingredients to create the delicious soup he knew she would love because it had all her favourite things hidden in the recipe. 

Once the soup is cooked, he pours two servings into pink, china bowls and places them at the coffee table in front of the couch. He helps Y/N, carrying her over and sitting her in her spot and tossing a blanket over her legs. “Want me to put on y’ show, love?” He asks, referring to her comfort show Gravity Falls. 

“Yes please,” She replies, politely. 

Y/N picks up the spoon that feels like it weighs more than it does and sips some of the soup she watched Harry make. “Mmm Harry, it’s delicious!” She hums, taking another spoonful.

“Yeah?” He grins proudly at her reaction.

“I already feel much better,” She nodded. He knows she’s feeding his ego but he accepts it all the same.

When they’re both finished eating, he takes both of their bowls and goes to tidy them up, leaving Y/N lying on the couch under a blanket he’d put over her. He hears her tired giggles when something funny happens on the small television, his heart aching at the raspiness of her voice but he’s happy she’s no longer upset. He also cleans up the dishes from this morning and does some of her laundry too, wanting her to rest as much as possible in the upcoming days. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket. A notification appears from the group chat he was in with the friends they were meant to go to dinner with. Pictures of them at dinner pop up, his eyes glancing over to his girlfriend as he sends a quick reply. He walks over to her and finds her no longer in the sweater she was once wearing but completely stripped down to just her underwear. Her eyes gaze up at him, “S too hot,” She sighs, her cheeks bright pink.

He tugs off his shirt and pulls it over his head, nudging her over to lie in the spot beside her. The couch was much too small so she ended up laying half on top of him, her head resting over his heart and her palm over his chest. His thumb slides under the waistband of her panties as it brushes the skin on her waist. 

She mindlessly played with the chain around his neck and his lips quirked every time he’d spot the small inking on her arm whenever she moved it a certain angle. “I love you,” He murmured, kissing the top of her head. He couldn’t remember if he had told her already but either way, he wanted to tell her. 

Y/N craned her neck to look up at him, his palm pushing back the hair from her face, “I love you too,” She puckered her lips and he leaned forward to kiss her. 

Halfway through the first season, light snores fell from the girl lying across his chest. Harry carefully manoeuvred himself to grab the remote control and switch the TV off. He gently moved her enough so he could stand up and hooked his arms around her to carry her to her bedroom. 

“Harry,” Y/N mumbled as he lay her on her mattress. She reached out for him, needing his close proximity to stay relaxed. 

“M right here, lovie,” He reached for her hand that she held out for him and kissed the back of it, “I’m just gonna get you a glass of water.” Y/N liked having a glass of water on her bedside table in case she got thirsty in the night. He remembered the first time he stayed around her apartment and she forgot to grab one before she went to sleep. She woke Harry up in the middle of the night to ask him if he could come with her to the kitchen because it was too dark for her to go by herself. 

“You’ll come back?” She pouts, half asleep.

“I’ll be back in thirty seconds, flower. Y’ can count if y’ want to.” He chuckles when she starts counting, whispering softly as he walks to the kitchen.

He comes back before she reaches thirty with a glass of tap water clenched in his fingers. He places it on her side of the bed - because they have those now and he was obsessed. Hers was always the right in both his and her bed and his was always the left. 

“Told you,” He says as he lays beneath the blanket in the bed beside her. 

“You did,” She hums, curling into his side once he’s settled, “How come you’re always right?” 

He cradles her in his arms as she buries her face in his neck, wanting to be as close to him as possible. “M not always right but I think M right about you most of the time. You’re all I know, flower, I know how to love you and take care of you.”

She sighs blissfully, he can feel her eyelashes against his neck as they flutter open and close like she’s trying to fight off sleep, “There you go again, right as always.” 

He laughs, “Rest now baby, you’ll be back t’ watering y’ flowers and being my noisy neighbour in no time.”

He knows she’s asleep from the lack of sassy responses he gets. 

. . . 

“This is pretty,” Harry tugged on her skirt as she walked past him sitting on the chair at the front desk holding a bouquet of flowers. She looked beautiful every day but after days of being sick and in bed, she was practically glowing with fresh energy as she moved around the shop. Her hair was in a high ponytail with a white bow secured around it, she wore a dress with puffy sleeves that swayed as she moved, and her heels clicked against the ground with every step she made. 

The flower shop had been closed during the time Y/N was sick. She was beyond stressed about it the first few days, worried that she would be so behind on her work the longer the shop was closed, but Harry made sure everything would be alright. He suggested she keep the shop closed for the whole week so that she could work on the things she needed to before opening it again.

 As much as he wanted to stay with her, Y/N insisted he go to work in the day, especially since the most she would be doing was sleeping. He worried about her often in the day, he couldn’t help it, and he hadn’t realised how big of a presence she was until she wasn’t there anymore. He couldn’t hear the chiming of the bell as people walked in and out of the flower shop and he missed the clicking of her heels against the floor as she walked into his shop to eat lunch with him or sneak around the back buildings to kiss him. 

“Thank you, I bought it online a few days ago,” She gleamed as he rubbed the fabric between his fingers. 

“Ahh,” He smirked, “So y’ were buying pretty dresses instead of sleeping whilst I was down here working?”

“Something like that,” She shrugged, biting her lip.

He yawned his head falling forward to rest against her stomach. She ran her fingers through his curls, “Are you tired?” She asks. 

“Hmmm,” His eyes flutter shut at the sensation of her hands in his hair.

“Harry?” She frowns, holding his face in her hands as she tilts his head back. Her hand cups his forehead, “You’re burning up.”

“I am?” He sighs.

Y/N’s eyes soften, “You are,” She replies, “Seems as though it’s my turn to take care of you now,”

Harry grins lazily, “I like the sound of that, Flower.”

[katiemccabeswife]

12 Weeks

Matildas x Aussie!Reader || 12 weeks of recovery and you're back on the pitch in your hometown.

12 weeks. After 3 months of recovery, you were back on the pitch and playing for your country. A knee dislocation may not be the worst injury ever, but the torn ligaments that come with it sure do make the recovery longer than it could be.

Whilst recovery is always more a mental game than physical, it's always worth it when you get to be back on the pitch with your national team in front of a sold-out, record-breaking crowd, in your hometown. You originally weren't sure if you were even going to be selected for the squad after missing the Conti Cup Final with Arsenal and the remaining games of the season, but Tony was assured by the physios over in England that you would be fit for the final games in front of an Aussie crowd before the Olympics, so here you were.

Tony was still cautious with your knee, and left you to warm the bench for the Adelaide game but substituted you on for the second half of the game. There was yet to be a goal when you came on, but the atmosphere surrounding the stadium only begged for one to come soon.

China was full of tough competitors and made for a lot of back and forth, sprinkled with some promising chances which only made Clare's goal in the 48th minute all the more sweeter.

The second goal came from a combination of an easy interception from Viney and Raso's speed making for another celebration when the ball hit the back of the net.

Sitting comfortably ahead relaxed the crowd but the team's constant want for more goals never did. After a close call near China's goal, Macca booted the ball up the pitch and met Steph's head who then controlled the touch and dribbled past the loose defenders. A moment of distraction left you unattended and gave you room to bolt for the incoming cross from your captain.

The ever-so-perfect timing of Steph met your foot perfectly leaving you one-on-one with the goalkeeper. A quick fake to one side had her falling the wrong way, leaving the goal wide open for you.

The sound of the crowd was deafening when the net rippled from the force of the ball and you were quick to run with your arms spread wide, cutting through the harsh cold air of the Aussie winter night.

A quick pivot is all it took for your back to meet the ground. A groan left not only your lips but those watching the big screen which was currently zoomed in on your celebration that was ruined by your knee slipping out of place.

"No, no, no" You cried out and were quick to stand back up and shake your leg around.

"Oi, no sit back down, babe," Ellie was the first one to you and forced you back to the ground.

"I'm fine Els, I swear, I promise," The tears that were flowing from your eyes spoke differently, "Just let me get up, I can walk, I swear!" When the medics made their way to you, you tried to push them away and convince them that you were alright. "It doesn't even hurt!" You shouted at them. Embarrassment filled you as your teammates and 76,998 other people watched you cry on the pitch.

Steph was there right next to you in seconds, soothing your hair and whispering gentle words, "It's alright, y/n/n, if nothing really is wrong, you can get back up and play, if not you'll also be ok, yeah? We're all here for you, you'll be alright," She kissed your sweaty head but her comfort was doing little to help. The Olympics were right around the corner, you didn't have another 12 weeks to heal and even if you did, there was no way Tony would choose you over a completely healthy player like Hayley or Caitlin.

You looked up at Steph with dread written all over your face, you knew you had re-dislocated your knee and that you wouldn't be fit for the Olympics but admitting that was going to be a hard pill to swallow. By looking at Steph's face, you knew she knew as well that you weren't going to be able to get up and play the remaining 20 minutes of the game. She took your face between her hands and looked you dead in the eye, "It's ok, chook, you being ok is the main priority right now, try not to worry about anything else, ok?" You nodded solemnly and looked towards the medics who were pushing painfully around your knee.

"I dislocated it again," You spoke softly to the woman looking at your face, gauging your reaction to her prodding. She nodded in agreement before asking if you could walk and with the help of her and Steph you were up on your feet, thanking the crowd surrounding you as they clapped you off.

While you weren't going to be playing the rest of the game, there was no way you were going to miss watching it so you sat down next to Lydia and rested your head on her shoulder as the medic strapped an ice pack around you knee. The tightening of the strap brought another round of tears to your eyes and Lydia rubbed your arm comfortingly with her hand that was slung around your shoulders, "It'll be ok, chick," She spoke, so similarly to Steph.

"Thanks, Lyds," The phrase had been thrown around a lot the past few days but her actions proved just how much she deserved all the thanks she was receiving, not only for being an exceptional footballer but also an exceptional person and friend.

The ball was being passed around aimlessly in the centre of the pitch, giving Tony a moment to step away from the sideline to find you and squat down in front you you, his hand resting on your good knee, "How does it feel?" He asked with a cringe.

You shrugged miserably, "It doesn't hurt as much as the first time, it kind of just aches," You looked down at it and frowned at the apparent swelling already rising.

Tony ruffled your hair lightly as he rose, "You're strong kid, remember we're all here for you, even me," He winked jokingly, "If you ever need someone to call, any one of us will be happy to answer, isn't that right?" He shouted down the bench to Caitlin who nodded obliviously making you and Tony laugh. He pointed at you sternly, "If you ever, ever, need anything, I'm just a phone call away, kid," He patted your shoulder once you had nodded in understanding before walking back to the sideline.

"I'm proud of you chicky," Lydia mumbled to you.

"Thanks, Lyds"

It's been a while!! Sorry for not writing, just haven't really felt like it, and guess what... dislocated my knee for the second time in three months just before the tillies game on monday!! you best believe i still went and hobbled in on my crutches though.

[byuntrash101]

Touch me

reader x dom!haechan

smut | nsfw | mdni

very sweet dom!haechan, suggestion of past self harm and anxiety, mental healing, virgin reader, big dick haechan, pet names (baby, angel, princess), lots of praising, nipple play, oral (f), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), creampie

requested | part of my 2023 prompts event [closed]

with lots of love and patience haechan was able to heal your soul. with him it feels right and you are ready to take the next big leap

[❛ it’s okay, you can touch me. ❜ + ❛ you can be rough. i can take it. ❜]

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK 🖤

A/N: this is to celebrate the Ay-yo MV 💚

Heachan was always a tease. He was always trying a new way to get on your nerves. A new way to make fun of you or just be loud, obnoxious and annoying. From an exterior perspective you two didn’t look like a very harmonious couple but that didn’t matter.

Because between the both of you, you understood each other perfectly, on a spiritual level. You were a really anxious and nervous person and Haechan’s lighthearted teases were primarily a way of getting you out of your own head. When you were calling him annoying you were not putting yourself down. When you were playfully hitting him in the ribs you were not harming yourself.

Haechan was healing you.

In private that is what he was. He was as solid as a rock you knew you could always lean on. Taking care of your frail heart when nobody was watching. Showering you with kisses and words of affirmation when it was just the both of you. Making you more confident everyday.

And today was another big step to take. 

You two had been dating for a while and you decided it was time to finally let Haechan be really intimate with you. You decided to finally give him your everything.

Your hands were trembling when you two were kissing on his bed. Heachan was confused but he picked up something that was off. He tried to soothe you by rubbing small circles on your back, kissing you slowly, pouring his love into it.

“Haechan I-” you started, nervously biting your bottom lip down.

“What's wrong baby?” he asked.

“I want…” the words got caught in your throat.

“It’s ok baby” he took your hands into his, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. You took a deep breath.

“I want… you” you finally exhaled in a mere murmur. 

Haechan instantly sat back up straight on the headboard. You didn't expect him to react this way and you fidgeted with your fingers trying to scan his face.

Haechan never expected that. Well at least not today, not right now. Actually he never not even once pressured you into doing anything and he was ready to wait for you for as long as necessary. Though there were times he couldn’t fight against his nature and would get hard because you kissed him back a little more roughly or your hands wandered a little high on his fleshy thighs. But he never ever tried to convince you to go further.

“Are you sure?” he finally spoke out.

Heachan took your hands in his again. You initially thought he was going to bounce around the room like a child on christmas morning but instead of excitement you only distinguished worry swimming in his dark brown orbs.

“Yes. I am”. You replied as affirmatively as you could and it did the trick. Haechan believed you.

He started to lean back into you and kissed you again. It started out like any kiss from him. It was gentle and warm but as time went by Haechan let lust win over him and the kiss deepened. He caught your face between both his warm sun kissed hands, pulling you deeper into his embrace. 

Haechan briefly broke the kiss to pass his graphic t-shirt over his head. You looked at him in awe. Your eyes trailed his bronzed skin from collarbone to his toned abs. You’ve seen him without his shirt before but it was never in this setting. This time it stirred something in the pit of your stomach and you harshly pressed your thighs together.

Haechan leaned over you once again to pick up right where he left off. While he was lapping at your tongue, you let your hands wander down his toned chest to his belt and eventually your fingers glazed over something poking through his jeans. 

You instinctively retracted your hand. Haechan broke the kiss to look at you.

“I-... S-sorry. I-” you stuttered, nervously scratching your neck but Heachan stopped you. He gently caught your wrist.

“It's okay, you can touch me.” He placed your hand right on his bulge. You felt it twitch as soon as your fingers glazed over it. You were absolutely petrified. But Haechan knew how to ease you into it. He knew how to guide you. 

He started to palm himself with your hand. Applying some pressure into your hand. His hips also responded to your touch and they rolled into your palm.

“Fffuck” Haechan breathed out, closing his eyes to this new sensation.

You didn’t expect he would make such a sound, swearing under his breath that way. You felt arousal build up in your core. Soon Haechan let go of your hand and you went on to continue to pleasure him on your own.

“Yes baby just like that” he praised, breath short, jaw hanging open as you felt your cheeks burn.

After a while you felt like his poor length was ready to suffocate through the tighter than ever jeans. So you stopped and Haechan instantly buried his face in the crook of your neck while he laid your back flat against the soft mattress.

He planted a thousand kisses all over you while he gently peeled off every piece of clothing cladding your body until you were left in your underwear. Your heart had never beaten so fast. You wanted to crawl into a hole when his avid eyes roamed over you as you surrendered your body’s every secret and somehow the deep brown orbs appeared to be still yearning for more. 

Then he finally took your bra off. You took a deep breath trying to chase away the crushing nervousness.

“You are beautiful, baby” he exhaled. Barely being able to wrap his mind around what was happening. Finally getting to see you under him like this.

He kissed you again. From your neck going down to your chest, you arched your back onto him when his wet tongue lapped at your hard nipple. A soft moan escaping your lips as you bit your bottom lip right after, trying to cage in the rest of the moans caught up in your throat.

“I wanna hear more of those sounds” Haechan practically growled lips attached to your lower stomach. He briefly got up to rip away his jeans and boxers and you finally saw it.

Haechan’s cock.

Your eyes round up at the sight and you try to swallow down the lump in your throat but to no avail. You never expected him to be this big… The thick member sits tall and proud. Harder than rock, ornamented by thick veins running down the shaft. A bead of precum pearling at its slit. You nervously swipe your tongue over your lips.

You’re having second thoughts you don’t think you can fit this inside of you but before you have time to voice out your concerns Haechan has picked up on it.

When he joins you back on the bed he goes back to smothering you with kisses and affection going lower into your pubic bone.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you nice and ready for me” He says just before planting a kiss on your clothed center. You feel yourself quiver under his lips.

Delicately Haechan removes your underwear and can’t help but smirk when he notices the wet patch staining them before tossing them to the side. But he keeps it to himself. There will be plenty of time to tease you about it when you are both done. 

You fight the urge to close your legs when Haechan eyes down your most private part, lustful glint tinting his dark orbs. 

This time that is it. No turning back, you’re doing this.

Haechan kisses you again right on your bundle of nerves and you can’t begin to explain the difference between now and when you still had your underwear on. The contact with his plump lips makes you grip the sheets. And Haechan can’t help but notice you are very responsive.

He plants another kiss but this time let his tongue linger on your folds. You feel a shot of electricity down your spine when he starts to flick his tongue. 

“Fuck baby you taste so fucking sweet”

You repress an embarrassed whimper while Haechan grows hungrier. Relentlessly sucking on your bundle of nerves sending electricity through your core, gathering more and more arousal gushing out of your quivering center.

Haechan then gently slipped one finger inside your dripping heat. You take a deep breath as his digit progresses inside you until he bottoms out. 

“That’s my good girl” he praised as he rubbed small circles as deep as his finger could reach.

It was bearable until he curled his finger right into a spot you never suspected to be there in the first place. A shot of pure pleasure ripped through you as you moaned out loud and arched your back.

“Hmm…” Haechan purred in satisfaction, lips flush against your soaked core. “So sensitive for me, baby”

He pushed your magic button again and again which resulted in your arousal gushing out of you abundantly.

“Fuck baby. Can you take another one?” Haechan asked while he presented a second finger at your entrance.

You nodded your head frantically, pushing your hips down trying to get him to fill you up as soon as he could. He chuckled.

“My angel is so eager for my fingers” he said as he slid a second digit in. You bit your lips at the sting you felt as he parted you.

“H-Haechan” you cried out.

The way your walls stretched out around his fingers was intoxicating. Haechan started to slowly move in and out of you while you mewled.

“So good baby. So good for me” he whispered right before latching back onto your bundles of nerves. The deadly combo of his fingers pumping in and out of you while his tongue flicked your clit was slowly driving you to your edge.

“Please Haechan…” you cried out, hand going to entangle with his thick shiny hair. “Please don’t stop I’m gonna c-”

“Go ahead baby” He said, smirking against your folds.

Haechan didn’t rest, fingering you and feasting on you like a buffet until you felt yourself quivering around his fingers, walls eagerly gripping his digits as if trying to keep them inside you forever.

Before you could even realize you released all over Haechan’s mouth, which he happily welcomed, eagerly drinking your cum like a parched man.

While you gently came down from your high Haechan massaged your thighs and kissed all over them. 

When you came back to a relative consciousness Haechan was kneeling between your legs. Huge cock in hand, lazily stroking himself as he looked at you being already fucked out.

“Are you ready for me, my princess?” his husky voice resonated in the dark room. “are you okay with going raw?” He looked kind of embarrassed all of a sudden. “I didn’t come prepared. I-... I didn’t know you wanted-”

“Yes, it’s okay. I’m on the pill” you interrupted him. “Please Haechan… I want you now” you whimpered while spreading your legs even wider.

“Shittt” He cursed under his breath, trying not to let your shameless behavior drive him crazy.

He aligned himself with your entrance, rubbing circles with his tip, gathering your wetness. And he started pushing into you. You held your breath as he pushed inch after inch of his large member inside you. 

You felt yourself perfectly accommodating him, the dull pain growing stronger as he progressed. You bit your lips and frowned your brows. You moaned loudly as he bottomed out.

“Look at that. My good girl perfectly taking my cock like this” He stroked your face which made you look up at him. “So good for me my baby” he praised as he very gently pulled out to push back in.

This time it hurt a lot less. You moaned as he reached the bottom of you once again.

After a few back and forths the pain came to completely disappear. Soon the familiar knot started to tighten again in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck I just won’t be able to behave when your pussy grips my cock so fucking tight” Haechan growled as his fingers dug into your side. “I just wanna fuck you hard into the mattress” He snapped his hips into yours a lot faster and you saw stars for a brief second, pleasure shooting from your center in each of your limbs. You wanted more of this.

“You can be rough. I can take it.” you affirmed, a neediness in the voice your boyfriend didn’t fail to notice.

Haechan’s eyes snapped back to you. “You think you can take me all in baby?” Haechan asked, his voice was low, raspy and his tone was serious, almost strained. He wanted to be absolutely certain that was what you wanted because he knew if he let himself slip on that road he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Yes. Fuck me harder Haechan” you begged.

You felt him twitch inside you. And without another word he grabbed you at the hips rotating them at a specific angle and smashed himself inside you.

“Fuck” you screamed. You felt like you were transported to another dimension.

The pleasure he was providing you was something you never experienced before. A sensation that takes over everything and anything. The blissful joy spreading in your body, making your mind hazy as you moaned and whimpered for Haechan, completely losing consciousness of anything but him.

“Fuck baby” he started as beads of sweat ran down on either side of his beautiful sun kissed face. Half lidded eyes soaked with lust staring back at you. “Fuck y/n” he grunted. “Gonna cum for you”. he announced, short breathed, strained raw voice moaning into your ear.

“Yes please. Inside. Inside me” you begged as your fingers came down to play with your clit eager to chase your own high. And you do almost instantly. 

You finally grasp your orgasm. It completely tears through you. Completely drunk on him you moan his name again and again as you cum for the second time, completely soaking him and the mattress while your walls clench and spasm around his thick cock which is the last straw for Haechan.

Finally he lets go inside you, completely covering your center with thick ropes of white hot burning cum. His slender fingers firmly holding your hips down on him while he fills you up to the brink.

He rolls down next to you completely drained and exhausted. You two have to catch your breaths for a few minutes before you can even begin to think normally again. Completely drunk on the pleasure and the euphoria of the moment.

Haechan is the first to break the silence.

“Fuck” he swears in a breath, his glistening chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I love you so much y/n”

a/n: what did you think? honestly i have a soft spot for gentle dom haechan. he's just so cute. really tried to give reader and him an authentic/genuine relationship. tell me if you liked it. i love reading your comments. dont be shy to drop my asks <3 anyway hope you enjoyed ay-yo <3

[crushedsweets]

i remember u mentioned brian n tim are barely around now!!! whatre they doin!!! whats the plan!!!

OKAY OKAY OKAY SOOO!!

In the current point of the story, they're mostly just working. both are about 35 yrs old. Their slender symptoms are healing, cuz slendy can only have a SOLID grasp on individuals for about a decade (unless theyre actively destroying themselves like kate and toby)

every now and again, when kate and toby find themselves in deep shit, they'll pop up and help them out. sometimes they have a short O/S episode and find themselves back at the proxy cabin scrambling for pills to soothe the pain, but it is much less frequent. maybe once every 4 months.

tim is especially gone the most, cuz he does trucking and will be gone for two weeks at a time in another state.. he doesn't have any other big aspirations, just wants to make some money, get away, read a book, go fishing. brian works in carpentry, so he's mostly just fucking around town, working and trying to relax. he might pick up an online community college course just to collect credits every, but he could only do one low-commitment, minimal effort class at a time.

they share a two bedroom apartment in town, but again, brian is alone a lot of the time cuz tim's job. they're very strict about not letting toby/kate/the others invade their personal space. nobody but toby knows their address, and thats only cuz toby stalked their asses there LOL..

they're making plans to leave alabama, though. without warning, they wanna get out. this is why they're saving up money and trying to disconnect from everyone before they go. they just don't wanna get away from eachother, cuz that's kinda the only person they got anymore. even if theyre fucked up

[arainbowofchaos]

You're my light ✩

pair: Jungkook x reader

genre : mainly angst and a sprinkle of fluff, owing to Jungkook's charming persona :)

warnings: mentions of alcoholism, depression, agoraphobia, daddy issues and grief

word count: 9k

summary: Trapped by social anxiety within the confines of your home, your world transforms upon Jungkook's arrival, your new neighbor. Little do you know, he's not just a stranger but a figure from your past with some hidden history. Could Jungkook hold the key to mend your emotional wounds and lead you towards healing?

[A/N]: Please lemme know what you think I'm getting anxiety just posting the whole thing, kinda put my heart in it. Thank you for taking the time to read.

Emotionally wounded, you watch raindrops collide with the windowpane in your kitchen, wondering how the rain would feel on your skin. Rain is a soothing melody, a solace that you have come to cherish. Over time, this sound became comforting, like a song on repeat. On days like this, the push to do anything fades away, and the guilt dissolves.

Childhood memories of carefree puddle-splashing play in your mind, a stark contrast to your current existence. You long to regain that spirit, but stepping outside triggers a heartache. It's sad how you have become a recluse, avoiding the world. In shame, you look at your hands, still holding the knife you've been using to chop vegetables. The rain has captured your attention, making cooking an afterthought.

This routine has become your comfort zone. You no longer venture beyond your home, convinced that there's nothing worthwhile outside. You find contentment in isolating yourself from the world around you. Your sensitivity is heightened to the point that everything wounds you – every comment, gesture, and thought grazes against you, leaving scars that will never fade. You've resigned yourself to living with these wounds indefinitely, seeing no reason to expose yourself to new ones. 

Your mother had preached the importance of moving forward, but confidantes are scarce since her departure. Loneliness envelops you, and you carry your burdens alone. Pills offer fleeting relief from the pain, granting you sleep.

Your father's feelings of resentment towards you are like a cloud that comes and goes. He struggles with alcohol, which makes things even more complicated. Even though you left his home a long time ago, he still shows up at your place from time to time, causing scenes and making things difficult. His hurtful words and actions when you were younger have left deep scars, making you scared of trusting men and feeling like you don't deserve love. 

Until your new neighbor steps into your life.

One Monday morning, he rings your doorbell persistently, but you consciously choose to ignore it. The chime continues to echo, punctuating the air with its urgency, yet you remain resolute, showcasing your mastery of avoidance.

His second visit takes a different turn. Instead of ringing or knocking, he leaves a dish of hwajeon for you on your doorstep, thoughtfully covered with a plastic dome. As you bend down to retrieve the dish, a note beneath it captures your attention.

"Hey there, I'm your new neighbor. Hope we can meet soon. Jeon Jungkook."

You're speechless. No one has ever made cakes for you before this day. Neither neighbors nor family have ever shown the slightest attention since your mother passed away. On that afternoon, you indulge in three floral cakes, sitting on your couch and sipping your red berry tea. And in that moment, your heart feels a bit lighter than usual. It's strange but for once, you feel like someone actually cares.

Jungkook doesn't wait long before coming for his third visit. When he knocks this time, you open the door right away, handing him his plate. It's been cleaned and carefully wrapped in a bag. Taking the bag quickly, he looks at you with surprise in his big brown eyes.

"Hey, I'm Jungkook." 

"Hi, I'm Y/N. Thanks for the cakes... they were really good," you say, feeling a bit awkward. This kind of attention is new to you.

He grins, his dimples catching your attention. With that in mind, you take a quick look at him from top to bottom. He's tall and wears loose clothing, with piercings in his lip, ear, and eyebrow, and his arm is covered in tattoos. His underground style seems to suit him perfectly. He's definitely not your average guy.

"Thanks. I run the Kiwa Café downtown. Maybe you could drop by sometime?" 

"Yeah, sorry, I'm not really the type to go out. Have a good one."

You attempt to close the door, but he stops it with his arm. He’s got some strong arms.

"Wait, what if I bring you more treats to try? Since you don't really go out." he suggests.

You're taken aback, finding it hard to believe what you're hearing. Your expression softens as you timidly nod. Jungkook responds with a warm smile, saying, "Great, I'll drop by tomorrow with more goodies. And perhaps you could treat me to some coffee?" He playfully winks and takes a step back. His body remains turned toward you, as if he's reluctant to turn away. You thank him once more and close the door before he leaves your driveway.

You're left in a state of shock. What does this guy want? Why is he being so kind? You can't quite grasp the situation, but one thing is certain: you appreciate his way of talking to you. He effortlessly makes you feel comfortable, a rare occurrence for you.

The following day, Jungkook shows up at your door, dressed in a black crop top, a denim jacket, and blue ripped jeans. He's brought chocolate-filled hotteoks for you. You're torn between the excitement of the pancakes on your kitchen table and the delight of having Jungkook strolling through your apartment, softly singing. His presence carries a warm aura that envelops you in its positive energy.

You've fulfilled your promise and offered him a cup of coffee, complete with a metallic pink plate and a dessert fork. He finds the color charming, and you blush because compliments about your tableware are a rarity. As you both savor the sweet treats and chat, you learn more about each other. You find out that he's a lifelong resident of Busan and that he chose to move out of his parents' house because his brunch restaurant is thriving. The business is doing so well that he's been able to hire additional staff. He's looking to create more space in his life to enjoy moments outside of work.

When he asks you why you no longer leave your home, you honestly reply that there is nothing waiting for you and that you are content with the way things are. He listens without passing any judgment, a quality you greatly appreciate.

As your conversation drifts to cooking and books, you uncover that he's a sensitive and humorous individual, incapable of harboring negative judgments against others. Talking to him feels effortless; he has a way of making you feel at ease and never foolish. His voice carries a gentle cadence. He speaks slowly, ensuring that each word glides smoothly from his lips. There's no rush, just like the soothing sound of raindrops tapping against your window. It dawns on you that you could easily become accustomed to the comforting sound of Jungkook's voice filling the air as he talks to you.

Your conversation is abruptly disrupted by a forceful knock on the door, and your heart clenches as you apprehensively consider the potential visitor. In an instant, your father enters without warning, causing your heart to race. His surprise is unmistakable as he takes in the sight of Jungkook in your kitchen.

"Who's this guy?" Your father snaps, his gaze fixed directly on Jungkook. His anger radiates palpably, and you can easily discern the influence of alcohol in his slurred speech.

You remain silent, feeling deeply uncomfortable and shocked. Jungkook notices your immediate tensing as he enters. Just moments ago, you were just fine, but now it's painfully clear that this new arrival is unwelcome. Since you don't respond and seem terrified, Jungkook decides to speak up.

"I'm Jungkook, your new neighbor. And you?" Jungkook stands up and extends his hand to your father, who responds with a forceful strike rather than a handshake. You shiver from head to toe, feeling helpless in finding the right words to say.

"Get the hell outta here!" the man continues aggressively. However, Jungkook appears entirely unimpressed; he's determined to understand who this man is to you and won't leave you alone with him unless you confirm it's your wish.

"Y/N, you good?" Jungkook's concern shows. Tears well up in your eyes, and no sound emerges from your mouth. You feel like you can't breathe; a panic attack takes hold, and you're desperately trying to calm yourself.

"And she's crying again, what a mess!" your father curses. Those words are enough to prompt Jungkook to take a step forward, his tone resolute but composed.

"Sir, I'd appreciate it if you left now," Jungkook addresses your father calmly. "Y/N needs some space, and I think it's best for all of us if you give her that."

Your father's face turns red with anger, and his frustration becomes even more evident. He clenches his fists, and for a moment, it feels like he's about to explode. "An' who do ya even think y'are, tellin' me how t'handle my own family?" he fires back, his voice rising.

Jungkook maintains his composure, though a trace of concern flickers in his eyes. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I just want to help. Y/N deserves a bit of calm right now," he says, his tone even.

Your father's anger escalates into a scene. He raises his voice, exclaiming, "I dun' need no stra-nger tellin' me 'bout my own daugh-ter!" His words reverberate in the room, thickening the tension.

Jungkook keeps his gaze on your father, his patience unwavering. "I'm not here to lecture anyone. I'm just asking for a bit of understanding."

After a heated exchange of words, your father lets out an exasperated sigh and storms out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. The room is left in an uneasy stillness, the weight of the confrontation lingering in the air. You're now alone with Jungkook, your heart still racing from the encounter.

Jungkook returns his attention to you, his expression softening. "Hey, you're okay. He's gone now. Just take deep breaths, alright? You're safe."

His words provide a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. You manage to steady your breathing, focusing on Jungkook's reassuring presence.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice still trembling.

Your new neighbor offers a gentle smile. "No need to thank me. I'm just here to make sure you're okay."

Without a word, Jungkook takes a step closer, his intention clear. You feel a warmth emanating from him, an unspoken gesture of support.

And then, in a moment of profound understanding, his arms envelop you in a gentle embrace. You welcome it, allowing yourself to lean into the hug, feeling his comforting presence wrap around you. Your hands find their place around his small waist, fingers curling slightly.  It's been years since you've been hugged. Feeling Jungkook against you, his black curls tickling your face, his scent—a blend of orange and passion flower—is intoxicating.

...

The recent days have brought a wave of happiness, unlike any you've experienced in a long time. Jungkook has become a constant presence, visiting you almost every evening after closing his café. Each time, he arrives bearing the day's leftover treats, and you've noticed a pattern – it's almost as if he sets some items aside especially for you, given the appearance of new treats daily.

When he arrives, the two of you embark on culinary adventures together. Seeing him wear your pink apron unexpectedly charms you. He often ties his hair in a small bun, a detail you can't help but notice and find appealing. His comfort in your space is noticeable, and he respects your boundaries. He doesn't ask intrusive questions, and his curiosity never makes you uncomfortable. You feel grateful that he doesn't push for explanations after the incident with your father. 

As the days pass, Jungkook's daily visits continue, leaving you to ponder the underlying reasons behind his actions. This situation intrigues you - you perceive yourself as ordinary, yet his consistently caring behavior since the beginning prompts you to wonder what might be driving it.

It's hard for you to fathom why your new neighbor seems so determined to drop by every day. You've contemplated the possibility that his feelings might extend beyond friendship, but considering you've only known each other for a week, it's unsettling.

It's the way he gazes at you intensely when he assumes you're not looking, and how he naturally gravitates towards your presence. It's not an everyday occurrence for such an attractive individual to show active interest in you. Slowly, you find yourself beginning to rely on his company, and it leaves you feeling anxious.

Gathering your thoughts, you find the courage to ask the question that has been swirling in your mind.

"Jungkook... I gotta know, why do you come over every single day?"

Surprise lights up his eyes; it's evident that he hadn't anticipated such a direct inquiry. He clears his throat, and a slight blush graces his cheeks.

"I really enjoy hanging out with you. If my visits bug you, just let me know" he answers, his voice gentle and reassuring. He fidgets with his lip piercing, briefly averting his gaze before locking eyes with you once again, a newfound intensity behind his look. While you accept his response, an intuitive feeling suggests that there's more beneath the surface.

"How can I put this?” You start to ponder with a touch of caution. “I like having you around. But I can't help but wonder if this routine might get old for you."

He shakes his head vehemently, his gaze tinged with a hint of sadness at what you've just suggested. Then, he asserts with conviction, "I value every moment we spend together, whether it's here or anywhere else. I'd love to take you out sometime, but I don't wanna rush it. What matters is us being together like this."

His way of conveying his feelings is beautifully simple; he genuinely just wants to spend time with you. You're flattered, and your astonishment is transparent on your face – it's as if you're struggling to believe the sincerity he's displaying. As Jungkook takes a step closer, the soft scent of his cologne envelops the room, infusing the air with a comforting familiarity. He gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers warm against your skin, and looks at you with a tenderness that's impossible to misunderstand. The truth of his intention is unmistakable.

"I want you to know how amazing you are. Seriously,"  he tells you with unwavering enthusiasm. Your head unconsciously tilts toward his touch, like a flower leaning into the sunlight, and your motion garners a fond chuckle from him. "And you're super cute, too."

Even though you're not really looking for romance, you find yourself hoping to have him around as much as you can. You know that his interest might not last forever, but you're not focusing on that right now. The happiness he brings you in the present is what matters most.

This is what ultimately leads you to the decision of accepting his invitation to join him for a drink at his café.

"You know what? I've been thinking... I'd like to check out your café. See where you work," you admit, your words laced with a mixture of curiosity and eagerness.

Jungkook's face brightens, a wide grin forming on his face. His enthusiasm is palpable as he practically springs up from his seat.

"Really? That's awesome!" he exclaims, the genuine delight in his voice making your heart skip a beat. You both reach an agreement that this visit will happen before the café's opening hours. The next day, he'll come to pick you up in his car, a detail that adds a tinge of excitement to the anticipation.

...

If you were to describe Jungkook's café, you'd say it's vibrant and luminous. The space isn't huge, but it's cozy. Along the bay window's entire length, carefully arranged flower pots create a greenhouse-like atmosphere. Small tables are tucked away in this space. The use of materials, like wood and black metal, adds an industrial feel. The ambiance radiates warmth and elegance, suggesting he's tailored the café to match his personality.

From Jungkook's expression, you can tell how delighted he is that you wanted to explore his work. You understand how much energy and passion he's invested in his business. It warms your heart to see him bustling behind the counter, preparing your black sesame lattes while humming a happy tune.

When he joins you at the table nearest to the bay window, right beside the azaleas (which are so exquisite that you want to appreciate them up close), he places the two lattes on the table with utmost care. A heart-shaped milk foam graces the surface of your latte, an attention to detail that elicits another slightly quicker heartbeat from you.

Amused, Jungkook observes your contemplation of the drink, a playful glint in his eyes. You lift your gaze, your cheeks tinged with a soft blush, and you offer a genuine expression of gratitude. If he punctuates this exchange with a sly wink, it's merely to incite laughter and a fond roll of your eyes – he's become quite attuned to your reactions.

Taking out his phone, Jungkook seems a bit nervous and asks, "Can I take a picture of you?" 

"Why? I... uh…" Panic sets in – photos aren't really your thing, and you kind of wish you could just disappear.

"It's like your first time out in forever, you know? Capturing the moment could be cool."

But you're not totally convinced. You're thinking of saying it's kind of silly, and honestly, you don't feel like you deserve all this attention. I mean, you're mostly here because of him, right?

"What if you took a picture of me too?"

It's this last proposition that changes your mind. A photograph of Jungkook is something you genuinely desire. Perhaps it could be a way to keep him close even when he's absent? You might seem like a stalker, but your newly awakened feelings can't be suppressed. You nod and retrieve your rarely-used phone; this seems like the perfect opportunity.

He gets into a pose all effortlessly, with this tender look in his eyes. You snap the shot, capturing his cute smile forever in your phone's gallery.

"Now it's my turn."

You're not sure how to pose, so you just kind of shyly look at him while holding up your latte.

"You look really nice," he says quietly from behind his phone, and those words make you way happier than you'd admit. Taking a sip of your coffee, you segue into conversation.

"Your coffee is amazing, and I really love the vibe. I get why it's doing well."

He grins at your nice words, looking kind of proud.

"Thanks, I'm glad you like it. You're welcome here anytime."

"I don't want to bother you while you're working, though."

"Nah, you're not bothering me. Time drags when you're not around."

And you're not sure if it's the latte or just his friendliness, but words start flowing out before you can even think.

"I could actually work here. It'd be a good spot for me to write my articles."

Jungkook nearly chokes on his coffee, but he's got this big happy smile on his face.

"That would be awesome," he says, all gentle and sincere.

This is the first time a man has made you feel so desired in a way that isn't just about the physical. He also feels the need to have you around all the time. He's equally invested. And even if you don't fully comprehend your contribution, you're determined to reciprocate, to make him feel as special as he makes you feel.

...

You've been involved in writing literary articles for a long time, tracing back to your primary passion: reading. It all started with a simple personal blog during your teenage years, where sharing your thoughts online gradually captured your interest. As your blog gained more followers, you could sense your confidence and pride blossoming. Suddenly, at 20 years old, an unexpected opportunity knocked on your door. A renowned literary journal offered you a chance to write a weekly article. The thought of working remotely and getting paid to review new publications felt almost unreal. Writing was the most cherished aspect of your life, and this offer meant the world to you.

But little did you realize that this enjoyment of yours could deepen even further... until that fateful day when you made the decision to spend your time working in Jungkook's café. 

As you step into the café on your own, he instantly notices, rushing over with uncontained excitement to envelop you in a tight hug, even lifting you off the ground. The words of genuine pride he whispers into your ear create a unique warmth that ignites within you. Experiencing his authentic appreciation becomes one of the most heartwarming sensations you've known.

And then, unexpectedly, he brings forth an assortment of beverages – tea, lemonade, and orange juice – with almost whimsical efficiency, all in quick succession, "to keep you perfectly hydrated!" His insistence on not accepting any payment only adds to the sincerity of the gesture.

As night's curtain descends upon the café, he bids his farewell to the last customer, turning to cast you a smile that seems to hold the very essence of genuineness and sincerity. "What an absolutely incredible day!" he exclaims with an infectious enthusiasm that swiftly spreads to you. 

Throughout the day, you've been attentively observing Jungkook as he effortlessly manages the café's bustling operations. Every interaction with customers is an exquisite display of his innate politeness and warmth. From the way he greets them with a genuine smile to how he takes the time to inquire about their preferences, it's clear that his kindness isn't reserved just for you. 

You're deeply moved by how your connection with Jungkook has grown. He's been persistent in breaking down your walls from the very start. This transformation is clear: in a short time, Jungkook has become a significant part of your life, a cherished friend. Despite initially thinking you could handle things alone, you're now openly admitting that his presence brings you real happiness.

The issue lies in the fact that when you return home in the evenings after your days spent together, the burden of anxiety returns to rest upon your shoulders. A new kind of apprehension emerges – the fear of losing the friendship that provides you with so much solace. Tears well up at the mere thought of a future without him, and you're frustrated with yourself for feeling this way. Why does it seem so difficult for you to appreciate the current moment? You find yourself convinced that someone as wonderful as Jungkook doesn't belong in your life, especially when he embodies all the qualities you could ever wish for in a person.

...

Jungkook vividly remembers the first time he laid eyes on you. Both of you were in middle school, but in different classes due to your two-year age difference. He was pushed by a classmate from your class because he was doodling cute characters on paper instead of playing soccer. Instead of making fun of him like everyone else, you stepped in to defend him. At that time, you were more confident, and confronting others didn't bother you. You simply couldn't ignore injustice. When you helped him pick up his pencils from the ground and flattened his crumpled drawing under your books, you said words he could never forget, "Hey, don't let anyone boss you around. You've got every right to follow your passions!" with a wink that made his stomach flip. He didn't know what love was back then, but that's when he started paying attention to you.

That's why he noticed the exact moment when the change occurred in you. He still doesn't know the reason to this day, but it used to torture him. He observed how you withdraw into yourself. You spent time alone during breaks, barely responding to your classmates' invitations. He liked coming close to you to draw, and you didn't object; you let him do it as you read your book quietly. Occasionally, you exchanged knowing glances, but no words were spoken. During those moments, he felt like he was supporting you – not leaving you alone like everyone else seemed to do. How could he not notice the spark extinguished in your eyes? You, who used to talk and laugh loudly, had become silent.

And then one day, you finished school and he lost sight of you. It made him really sad, his heart felt broken without you around. What you might not know is that Jungkook never forgot you, even during the years when he couldn't find you. He held onto memories of you, even when he had chances for romantic relationships. The idea of you stayed in his thoughts, making it difficult for him to let go completely, his mind always coming back to you.

A few months ago, he came across an article written by you – he couldn’t believe it. Just seeing your name brought back so many memories. He dedicated hours to reading your frequently updated blog. Learning that you've been residing near his café filled him with immense joy. He felt like the luckiest person alive.

And so, he decided to leave his parents' home and quickly found a place to live right next to yours. Some might find this weird, but for him, it was a natural step to reconnect with you. Your warm welcome was just like it had been before. Believing in destiny, he sees this reunion as something meant to happen. His goal now is to help you find your carefree self again, if you're open to it. And it seems you are.

There's one thing that Jungkook would like to come clean about: he wants you to remember the 12-year-old boy he was. He needs to admit that he was that person to you, even if it might change things between you. 

...

It's 6 AM, and Jungkook's awakened by his usual alarm – just like every morning, you're the first thing that pops into his head, especially since your photo adorns his phone’s wallpaper. It's been a few weeks of almost daily hangouts, and he senses you're opening up bit by bit – he really wants to gather the guts to ask you out. He worries that if he waits too long, you might start misconstruing his intentions. He just wants to make it clear he doesn't want you to see him as just a friend. 

Running his fingers through his dark hair, he lets out a groan before burying his head in his pillow. He knows he'll have to gather his courage and take the leap soon. Jungkook gets out of bed and heads for a shower to clear his mind – when he's suddenly alerted by the sound of his front doorbell ringing. Quickly slipping into a pair of joggers and a t-shirt, he rushes to open his front door.

Standing right there is... you, and it doesn't take him long to realize that your eyes are red and puffy, and it's evident that you've been crying. Your braids are disheveled, and you're still clad in your hello kitty pajamas.

"I... I kind of just showed up... I saw your lights on... I'm... sorry... didn't mean to bug you," you sob, and it's a heart-wrenching sight that tugs at his emotions. Without hesitation, he pulls you into his embrace, aiming to provide comfort.

"I'm here, you're not bugging me at all, you did the right thing by coming over. C'mon in," he reassures you in a gentle voice. Jungkook's scent carries a hint of soap, and you're enveloped in it, feeling the warmth of his body beneath your cheek. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat has a soothing effect, helping you regain control of your own breathing.

As he welcomes you into his home, Jungkook closes the door behind you and leads you into his living room. There's minimal furniture – just a sofa and a TV – he moved in not too long ago, after all. And most of his free time has been dedicated almost exclusively to you. He motions for you to sit on the couch and takes a spot nearby, leaving a small gap between you to avoid overwhelming you. To his surprise, it's you who scoots closer, seeking solace in his arms again – and he's more than happy to oblige. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as if silently saying, I'm here.

"Hey, what's going on, Y/N? You seem really upset," Jungkook worries. His voice still holds traces of morning huskiness, and his warm breath brushes against your skin. You're enveloped in a comforting atmosphere.

"I... I'm just struggling... with everything... and it's like I'm scared of every little thing," you admit, but what you really mean is I feel like I’m suffocating when you're not around. "Before you came along, being alone was fine... but now…”

And maybe nobody else could quite grasp the weight of what you're expressing, but he gets it immediately – he holds you even tighter, offering reassurance.

"I like being around you too. You shouldn't stress about it, it's a good thing,"he says gently.

"Nah," you reply with a serious tone. "I don't want... to end up relying on whether I see you or not... it's kinda silly, I barely know you." And even if you come across as rude, you don't care. You need to let it all out. Your eyes are brimming with tears as you try to explain. "If you leave, what am I supposed to do? I don't want to feel like I can't function without you."

Jungkook chuckles softly—not at you, but at your words. You're not used to relying on anyone. You've lived in seclusion for so long that the simple realization that you're comfortable with someone triggers a tsunami of tears within you.

He decides that now is finally the right time to be honest. You were the one who first confessed your feelings to him—albeit clumsily. And seeing you cry like this, it's clear that there's something there for him, even if it's just a tiny spark.

"I can't imagine doing well without you either," Jungkook admits softly. Your face turns to him swiftly as his words reach your ears. His gaze is unapologetic, genuine, full of tenderness, and you can barely meet his eyes because of how intimidated you are.

"What do you mean? We've only known each other for a few weeks," you express, a bit stunned. "How can you be sure about that?" You inquire further.

Jungkook pauses - this is the moment. His hand gently cups your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "To be honest, we've known each other for a bit longer." You lean back a bit, pulling away from Jungkook, much to his regret, but it's expected; his words have taken you by surprise.

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, cautious and a bit skeptical.

"Just give me a moment, I'll be back soon. It'll make sense," He says with a reassuring smile.

Jungkook gets up from the couch and disappears for what feels like a long, endless few minutes before he returns, holding a photo album in his hands. He settles back down beside you and offers you the album. "I was around 12 years old in these class photos. Maybe it'll jog your memory."

You could have never predicted what was about to unfold. As you turn the pages of the album, suddenly there's a photo of a little boy looking back at you. He's dressed in a school uniform - much like the one you wore in middle school. And you recognize him, but it's hard to believe it could actually be Jungkook, right?

Your eyes widen so much that no more tears come out; you're just in shock. You can't even speak.

"Look, I hope you're not mad. This wasn't easy for me to spill out. I was worried you'd want nothing to do with me after this," he says with a touch of nervousness.

You shake your head, finding it hard to believe his words."Wait, Jungkook, you're telling me this little guy is you? The one who used to draw next to me every single recess?"

He nods, a bit shyly, and it's like you're seeing your old schoolmate all over again. The one who was always hanging around, no matter where you went, bringing you some kind of comfort during those tough times after your mother passed away. Suddenly, all those memories, the good and the bad, are swirling in your head, and honestly, you just want to hit reset, go back to square one. You jump up, needing to leave, to head back home, pop those pills to make the past just shut up.

"Don't go like that, just let me explain." Jungkook tries to hold you back, but you're already in the entryway, your hand on the doorknob.

"I probably shouldn't have come here. Jungkook, I... I'm not mad at you, but I really need to leave."

"Wait, hold on. Can we talk instead of you leaving like this? Please, don't disappear on me again!" And he's yelling at this point, his voice echoing in the room, and you realize the pain it holds. Suddenly, you're no longer thinking about yourself, but about this vulnerable boy who wants to keep you close. What are you afraid of?

"I've got a lot of baggage, you know. I... I don't think I deserve your attention. It's like a waste of time for you to be with someone like me." you declare with frustration.

"I might not know all the details about your past, but I see you as an amazing person. And I really care about you, like, a lot." Jungkook's words come out gently, his gaze steady on yours, as if he's trying to express the sincerity of his emotions. 

"Can you give trusting me a chance?" He's asking sincerely, and you want to agree, but you're afraid of how he might react once he realizes how messed up you truly are. 

With a reluctant nod and a hint of hesitation in your gaze, you still find yourself willingly accepting the hand he's reaching out to you. There's a sense of liberation in letting your guard down. Confronting your anxiety attacks with Jungkook by your side seems to surpass the effectiveness of any medication, even though it involves the potential risk of future pain.

...

"Have you continued drawing, Jungkook?" You inquire, a genuine curiosity lacing your words.

His response is tinged with humility. "Yeah, I still doodle here and there, but I won't pretend I'm some pro. It's just a thing I do for fun." 

A playful grin forms on your lips. "Is there anything you're not good at?"

He playfully retorts, "Well, you'll probably find out sooner or later if you stick around."

A chuckle escapes your lips. You're in it for the long haul.

After the revelations Jungkook shared, everything suddenly clicks into place, a puzzle of emotions now neatly assembled. The enigma of why this extraordinary man took interest in you unravels, fittingly revealing its answer. Welcoming a figure from your past back into your present is as bewildering as it is enlightening, considering the deliberate isolation you've woven around yourself. Encountering a familiar face wasn't part of the story you had envisioned.

From that morning onward, a new rhythm emerges. You initially thought you'd want alone time to process the revealed truths, but surprisingly, you find yourself craving his company, seeking the comfort he brings. He becomes a regular presence in your space, creating a cozy spot on the sofa bed where you engage in countless conversations that stretch beyond twilight.

During quiet nights, if you stir from slumber, you retreat to your bedroom with a mix of hesitation. He pretends to be asleep, his breath shallow, and you ponder whether his gaze would reveal more in the dim light. In recent days, touch has become a silent language, fingers grazing skin to convey comfort and understanding. Your thoughtful gestures extend further, seen in the room you make for him in your bathroom and closet. He transforms into a dependable source of support, and you both intuitively sense the ease with which you share moments and spaces.

Here's the thing, you find yourself yearning to deepen your connection. Despite feeling shattered, you're attuned to the moments when your heart races. What you feel for him goes beyond mere fondness; you desire him in a way that leaves no room for doubt. As he rises in the morning, stretching and gifting you his first smile, you find yourself yearning to kiss him. Yet, the beauty of your dynamic lies in its naturalness, making you eagerly anticipate the day when such a moment will unfold seamlessly between you two.

Yet, the weight of your past remains a burden you carry alone – you can't bring yourself to accept his love until he's aware of your complete history. You're well conscious that his perception of you might shift dramatically, perhaps even pushing him to retreat. He clings to an image, a nostalgic notion of you from his childhood, and you've undergone significant changes since those days. Even though he's cognizant of this, you pick up on his yearning to resurrect the person you once were – and that's simply unattainable. You'll never revert to that former self. So, being honest, when he confesses something later while you both relax on the couch – his head on your lap, your fingers playing with his hair – you’re not prepared.

"I think I might be falling in love with you," he confesses, his words breaking the tranquility of the moment you're sharing in front of the screen.

The admission catches you off guard, and you react with a mixture of surprise and conviction, "That can’t be."

"Why do you say that?" His tone carries a touch of reproach as he lifts his head to meet your gaze. It's evident that your response has struck a chord with him, and you're already grappling with a pang of guilt.

"I'm not the best person, you know... I've caused pain to people in ways that don't make me deserving of your affection. Trust me on that," you explain, hoping he won't press further.

He leans back slightly, a contemplative look on his face, "You should talk to me about what happened. I'm not trying to rush you or anything, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. Always."

The sincerity in his eyes and the way he puts his feelings on the line encourage you to open up, to let him in, even though you're fearful of the judgment that might come with revealing your past.

You curl up into a small ball, wanting to appear as small as possible.

"What do you wanna know?" you ask him, your voice soft.

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, determined to seize the opportunity you're giving him to learn more about you.

"I'm kinda curious about what went down when you were 14, the time you started isolating yourself in school to read," he says, sounding pretty straightforward.

"You actually noticed that back then?" you respond, genuinely surprised that he paid such close attention.

"You used to be this bright presence, and then, you changed. I caught onto that real quick. I was too shy to ask you about it. I still regret it, you know…" His voice wavers at the end, revealing the sincerity of his words. He really wishes he could've been there for you.

"You were just a kid too, Kook," you say gently, using the nickname that brings a smile to his face. "You were more there for me than anyone else, and I appreciate it."

He never anticipated finding you again, let alone receiving your gratitude. Whatever you're about to reveal to him, he wants to spend the rest of his life protecting you, making up for lost time. He wants to hold you in his arms. He wants to kiss you. He wants you to finally understand that he loves you deeply, and that nothing could ever change that.

"I lost my mother, and it's my fault," you finally admit, the pain clear in your trembling voice. "I caused the car accident."

Jungkook remains silent, allowing you the space to share your story without interruption. He gently caresses your wrist, a silent encouragement for you to continue.

"Back then, I had this blog where I shared my favorite books, but my dad didn't like it at all. He was having this huge argument with my mom when everything happened," you explain with a heavy tone, avoiding his gaze as you speak. Tears start to well up, and your voice wavers, "My mom was always on my side. She meant the world to me, and when I lost her, my whole world just fell apart."

"Oh, sweetheart..." he murmurs gently, his arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace that you welcome despite your feelings of guilt. "You can't blame yourself for this. Were you in the car too? And your dad?" His question is tender, his disbelief evident as he realizes the burden you've silently carried for so long.

"My father and I survived, but he holds me responsible for the accident and wants nothing to do with me," you share, your voice tinged with a mix of sadness and frustration. "I lived with him alone until I turned 20. I tried to continue my studies, but when I got the offer from the journal, I left. I could finally make a living and never see him again," you recount. "Yet, from time to time, he comes back just to make me feel awful, like he did the other day when you were here."

Jungkook is appalled by your father's behavior. How could anyone blame a 14-year-old? It's beyond comprehension.

"Wow, that's just... messed up," Jungkook responds, his voice filled with disbelief, "I'm really sorry you had to go through that. I can't believe your dad would do that to you. Blaming you for something like that and cutting you off?"

You let out a heavy sigh, the weight of your past still evident in your tone. "Yeah - he couldn't handle the fact that I was doing something he didn't agree with, even if it was just writing about books. And when the accident happened during their argument... Well, he put all the blame on me."

Jungkook's grip on you eases slightly, his empathy palpable. "But you managed to get away from that toxic environment," he remarks, his voice warm. "You grabbed the opportunity and moved on, working at the journal and building your own life. That's pretty damn courageous if you ask me."

You manage a half-smile, the memory of your journey to independence still vivid. 

He lets out a soft sigh, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. "You’re not blaming yourself for what happened, right?"

A gentle chuckle escapes you, laced with a hint of irony. "What do you think? I isolated myself all those years. It's hard to forgive myself."

Time feels suspended as you've just opened your heart completely. There's nothing left hidden. To your astonishment, Jungkook hasn't fled as you half-expected he might.

His touch remains warm against your skin, a silent reassurance that he's here to stay, regardless of the scars you've unveiled. In his eyes, you see a mixture of empathy and affection, as if he's been waiting for this moment to understand you more deeply. The weight of your shared emotions hangs in the air, mingling with a newfound sense of intimacy.

"I hope you can forgive yourself someday. And thank you for sharing your past with me," he says softly, his voice a soothing tune that dispels the tension in the room.

You manage a small smile, touched by his words. "It wasn't easy to open up, but I'm glad I did."

His fingers tenderly brush against your head, as if affectionately tousling your hair, "You don't have to carry your burdens alone anymore. I'm here for you, no matter what."

The sincerity in his voice resonates within you, and you find yourself leaning into his touch. In his presence, the weight of your past seems just a bit lighter, the pain a bit more bearable. As the minutes pass, the silence between you feels comfortable, a testament to the unspoken connection you've forged. With Jungkook by your side, the wounds of your history don't sting as sharply. It's as if he's a balm for your soul, mending the broken pieces with patience and care.

As you bask in the quiet companionship, you realize that the journey ahead won't be without its challenges. Healing takes time, and vulnerability is a journey of its own. But now, you have a partner who's willing to walk that path alongside you, no matter how rough it gets. 

...

Since opening up to each other, a shift has occurred in you. It's as if a dormant part of you has awakened, nudging you to venture beyond your comfort zone. You start small with grocery shopping and even a cinema visit, hand in hand with Jungkook. Soon, solitary walks, workdays at various locales like the park, library, and Jungkook's café become your norm. Life starts to regain its hues, and appreciation for it blooms once again.

While strolling in the park one day, a familiar face approaches you, etched with anger and accusation. Surprised, as you've been feeling watched lately, you realize it wasn't just paranoia.

"So, now you decide to step out, huh? Putting on a show?" Your father's words sting with bitterness. "While I've been miserable since your mother's death, you seem to have magically found happiness? You make me sick!" His voice carries a storm, discomfort washing over you.

You face him, his spiteful words hanging heavy. The once-sunny day turns chilly, leaving you vulnerable. Refusing to be shattered by your father's words, you gather courage. "You don't get to hold me responsible for your unhappiness," your voice steady despite inner turmoil. "I've grown; I'm finding my own path."

Your father's anger sharpens. "Oh, really? So, this guy brings you joy while I've been in misery?"

The tension hangs thick, a cloud between you two. Heart pounding, you recall past conflicts, but this time, you're resolute.

"I'm not responsible for your pain. But I won't let it define me either, and I won't apologize for seeking happiness."

Your words linger, a testament to your growth and strength. As you stand firm, the weight of your journey toward self-empowerment shines through your words.

"And you know," you continue, your voice softer, "We both deserve to heal. Holding onto bitterness won't help either of us. I've found a path that brings me happiness; I hope you can find yours."

A pause follows, your father pondering your words. Anger in his eyes wavers, replaced by uncertainty. With a sigh, he looks away, shoulders dropping.

"Yeah, do what you want," he mutters, his tone subdued.

"Thank you," your sincere response. "I wish you well."

Turning, you walk away, leaving tension behind. Your father watches, then turns and walks in the opposite direction.

Arriving home, you find Jungkook, donning your pink apron, making Bulguri Noodles. His presence warms your heart. Sharing the encounter, he expresses admiration for your strength. Grateful, you thank him for empowering you to stand up for yourself, a reflection of the strength you both have shared since your childhood days.

...

As the anniversary of your mother's passing approaches, cemeteries evoke intense aversion within you. Visiting her grave has grown daunting, fueled by insurmountable anxiety and fear of encountering your strained relationship with your father, even with Jungkook's soothing presence.

In the midst of your emotional turmoil, Jungkook offers a beautiful idea that flows effortlessly from him. "Why not create a commemorative day?" he suggests. "Visit her cherished places, do activities that brought her joy. It's about preserving her memory in your unique way."

The weight of uncertainty settles on your shoulders. "I'm not entirely sure if I can handle it," you confess, your voice laced with vulnerability and hesitation.

Jungkook offers a reassuring smile. "If you want, I can be there with you. We could do it together."

"I would genuinely appreciate that," you respond, the warmth of gratitude and emotion swelling within you.

And so, the journey to organize a day dedicated to your mother's memory begins. For you, it's an opportunity to reacquaint yourself with her essence through the prism of cherished memories. For Jungkook, it's a chance to glimpse her through your eyes.

The day arrives. Jungkook dresses elegantly, clad in a crisply ironed white shirt and black linen pants, his black hair framing his face ethereally. On your part, you've chosen a modest black dress, an homage to your mother's favorite color. Jungkook's admiring gaze lands on you, a testament to his appreciation for your choice.

"You look stunning," he murmurs, releasing an almost inaudible breath.

His words melt doubts. With him by your side, you face the day's commemorations with newfound resilience.

Instead of a cemetery, you honor your mother's artistry in an art gallery. Jungkook's presence is reassuring as he walks beside you, holding your hand. 

Art speaks to you, a reminder of your mother's love. Pointing out art that reminds you of her, Jungkook listens intently, genuine interest in his eyes.

You confess, "I used to enjoy when you doodled around me. It reminded me of my mom. She loved drawing. She used to illustrate stuff for kids, but she also had these personal pieces she kept just for herself."

Pride and affection light Jungkook's face. The urge to kiss you is strong, but he restrains it. Today is about honoring the memory of you and your mother.

Leaving the gallery's embrace behind, you step into the warm caress of sunlight and head towards Haeundae Beach. The yearning to bask in the lovely weather and absorb the ocean breeze propels you onward. Memories surge back – those cherished moments, just the two of you. Your mother's days off often translated into these special beach outings.

As you approach the beach, the golden sands extend before you, converging with the vast expanse of azure waters that stretch towards the distant horizon. Jungkook's gaze locks onto yours, brimming with hope and vulnerability. With a softness as tender as a whisper, he asks, "Would your mother have approved of me?"

He looks so young and uncertain, so adorable that your heart could almost burst. The fact that he's even asking this question makes you fall for him a little more.

A rush of emotions floods you, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She'd have adored you," you reply, your voice brimming with certainty. “You two share so many passions and values. She'd have wanted me to find someone like you."

In that moment, Jungkook's hesitation dissipates. His resolve to convey his feelings takes over. He takes a step forward. "Then, maybe you could build your life with me?" he says, his voice carrying hope and charm.

A mix of emotions wells within you, your heart caught between longing and self-doubt. "You might not fully realize what you're getting yourself into."

But Jungkook surprises you, his fingers intertwining with yours, his touch tender. His gaze, so intense and sincere, meets yours as he says, "I understand more than you might think."

Your heart skips a beat, the gravity of his words sinking in. The day, this moment, is a culmination of emotions and shared experiences. And then, without hesitation, he utters the three words you've yearned to hear from him for so long.

"I love you."

It's a confession that echoes in the space between you, a declaration that tugs at the strings of your heart. You didn't anticipate how deeply his words would resonate, how they would weave into the fabric of your being. The tears you've been holding back finally break free, a testament to the depth of your emotions. They trace a path down your cheeks, mingling with your smile as you respond, your voice unwavering and genuine, "I love you too, Kook."

Jungkook's been waiting for this moment, for your reciprocation, for the confirmation that your hearts beat in sync. His hands find your face, his touch gentle yet filled with purpose. And then, with a tenderness that transcends words, he leans in and kisses you. 

As his lips touch yours, warmth envelops you.

You're home.

[weretheones]

All You Got | Part 3

Part 3: The Desperate Type

Series Summary: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4) 

Series Masterlist | AO3 Version

Paring: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count:
 4.9k  Warnings: description of injury, blood. A/N: early update! i was just so excited to post this lol. considering how much action was in the last two parts, i figured these two deserved a break. but while they might be clear of danger (for now), theres still some nasty tension to deal with... 

No, no, no.

Your head snapped left, right, then left again. It was the same blur of trees, the same piles of ashes, and the same empty spot ahead of you no matter how many times your eyes ran across the camp. 

With a deep inhale, you tried to soothe the increasingly frantic thoughts in your mind before they became rampant. Inhale. Pick away the moments of silence to cling onto so that you could just think. 

Daryl had left you alone. Defenceless and hurt— asleep. 

You weren’t sure for how long, exactly; the fire burned to ashes hours ago by the look of it, and mid-day rays of sun landed across the scatter of leaves where he’d been sitting last. He could’ve slipped away in the middle of the night or just as dawn was breaking. Hell, maybe he left the second your eyes shut. 

The steadily increasing pound of your heart seemed to drown out the muted throb of your leg. Enough that when you gripped the bark of the tree behind you and pulled yourself to a stand, you barely hissed as your weight shifted onto the hurt muscle. The tending of your wound had been done well, considering the circumstances; it helped counteract the effects of yesterday’s sprint, which couldn’t have been good for a healing injury. 

But, neither were the dull teeth of the dead ripping you apart. 

Stood upright with a quiet prayer to find a glimpse of that angel-winged vest beyond the tree’s cover, you scanned the area. A small bottle on the ground caught your eye. The blue label was peeling. Familiar. 

The ibuprofen he’d given you. 

You gingerly bent down to pick it up and dry swallowed another pill in anticipation of the day ahead— regardless if he’d really left you behind, or not, you knew you couldn’t stay at this camp much longer. With no walls, even if you had your knife, neither of you were safe. 

As if to remind you of that fact, a branch snapped in the distance.

Still clutching the tree’s curved bark, you leaned forward a couple of inches and peaked toward the general direction of the noise. 

Please don’t be a biter. 

Then, every curse and panicked thought slipped away from the simple sight of that crossbow strap wrapped across his chest. A furry animal hung limp in his grip and his shoulders were low underneath his poncho. 

It was obvious he was exhausted. Still, the sight of you standing upright made his other hand tighten around the strap of his bow and his shoulders tense again. In an almost ironic manner— considering he still had all your weapons— you raised the hand that wasn’t holding you steady in surrender. 

You gave a timid shrug. “Figured I shouldn’t just sit here all day.” 

He scoffed something under his breath. From the way his eyes slipped back down to the ground, you assumed that answer was soothing enough. It might’ve been arrogant to assume he regarded you as a significant risk, but it was clear that he wasn’t the type to take those chances, anyway. 

As he walked past, prey still in hand, your attention followed; you hopped on your good leg to angle yourself the way of him and that rabbit. 

A low growl rumbled from your stomach. 

Of course, he heard it, glancing back at you in the second between straddling the log to your left and slicing into the animal’s belly open. Your grip on the tree dropped as you lowered yourself back onto the soft ground, watching him pull out the guts and bring those ashes back to life. Throughout the entire process, he never once said anything, never gave you more than a glance before his attention was back on the slow rotation of meat over fire. Not even a whisper of an apology, no sorry for letting you think I just left! 

But you weren’t even sure if that mattered anymore. Certainly not the way it did ten minutes ago, because all you could think about was how every brush of the breeze against your face, laced with smoke and the smell of cooked meat, practically had you drooling. 

When your stomach rumbled again, you finally asked, “Would you share?” 

Quick to take a bite, he didn’t show any sign that he heard you, even if he’d been aware of every shift in your spot and growl of hunger, prior. Your chapped lips parted again, ready to plead a second time just to soothe that hollow ache in your gut. 

Something hot fell in your lap, and that smell of cooked meat was at its most intense. You looked down to see he threw a leg your way. 

You’d been hungry before— gone three days without a single bite of anything, once. The lightheadedness and that rumbling in your stomach, like something caving in on itself, weren’t new sensations to you, or anyone else in this world. Thankfully, you also knew the sweet relief of that first bite, and it never failed to shine a beacon of hope on an otherwise dull world, even if all you were biting into was a dry, unseasoned rabbit leg. 

A good while passed in silence. The crack of the fire died down and the rustle of the wind was softer than before. It was like everything around you was settling, and you briefly wondered if the anxiety from the expanse of trees and the overwhelming unknown around you sparked from that dull hunger in your gut, after all. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t you who finally broke that peace. 

“Ya should change tha’.” Daryl nodded to your leg after he swallowed his last bite. 

Your eyes fell to the makeshift bandage. 

“I don’t have another shirt.” 

“Then find somethin’.” He threw the bone into the pile of ashes. “’S gonna get infected if ya keep tha’ on too long.” 

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed. “Got any ideas?” 

Elbows locked around his bent knees, he looked down at the light shine of grease coating his fingers. His brow was straight, his mouth in a tight line, and even that pessimistic part of your mind couldn’t claim it was an effort to find a witty remark; he was serious about whatever he was thinking. 

“Should be a town not too far from ‘ere. You’d have a better chance’a findin’ somethin’ there.” 

It seemed the mix of food and pain relievers did you some good. The tree’s truck was less necessary to stand up, and beyond some dull pain when you put your weight on the leg, it didn’t hurt as bad. 

With a weak smile, you asked, “Mind showing the way?” 

“I’ll take ya there.” He stood, too. “But then you ’n I are goin’ our separate ways.” 

Your smile fell. “Why?” 

“Cause ya ain’t my problem.” He slid his crossbow over his back. “I already helped ya more than once. We’re even.” 

“I can keep helping you,” you said adamantly, though that slight shake of anxiety undermined your words. “I’m not always gonna be hurt. I—I know how to deal with the biters, how to scavenge. I’m smart, I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” you huffed a weak laugh. “I’m not asking you to babysit me or to like me because you probably have every right to hate me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m still all you got.” 

He scoffed, “Didn’t peg ya for the desperate type.” 

Daryl certainly knew how to get under your skin— already— but you’d done much worse than stick by the side of a grumpy man in order to survive before. 

Your demeanour turned pensive. 

“No one can make it alone now.” 

Daryl’s glare lost its arrogance for a moment; a blink of contemplation. 

That seemed to sway him, in or out of your favour, you weren’t sure yet. The way his features tightened, like they had when he first mentioned the town, made you wonder what heavy thoughts plagued him this time. 

He turned on his heel and walked ahead. 

Uncertain if it was even worth it to call out after a man as stubborn as he was proving himself to be, time and time again, your shoulders slumped in defeat.  

“Keep up,” he barked over his shoulder, and your chin snapped back up. “I ain’t carryin’ ya this time.” 

You limped behind.

Compared to the running, falling, and general panic of yesterday, it was relatively easy to keep up with Daryl’s pace today. Without biters on your tail, the two of you fell into a comfortable stroll, weaving between trees with even breaths in your lungs. It helped that your leg was more heavy than painful, only a dull throb that echoed your heartbeat and the pace of your steps. 

Even if the pain had been unbearable, if every nerve of your body was crying, begging, pleading for you to stop, you weren’t sure you’d be able to. There was a sinking feeling in your gut that Daryl might’ve kept walking, anyway. He suddenly seemed to be itching for an opportunity to leave you behind, which disoriented you. His constant reiteration that you weren’t his problem seemed to contradict his actions— coming back for you, wrapping your wound, giving you food. 

You weren’t sure if you’d convinced him that the two of you should stick together— long term— back at that makeshift camp. He could’ve been planning to leave you behind the second you passed the town’s border. But, you did know that with an injured leg, even a healing one, it was really you that couldn’t survive alone. 

Although, maybe it was a bit unfair to blame that fact on your leg. You’d never been a loner, not in this world, anyway. It was part of the reason you joined that camp, a couple of months before Brian did, even if you didn’t get along with everyone. It wasn’t that you had been lying to Daryl— you were smart. You knew how to sneak by and avoid the biters. You could find even the best-hidden supplies. Could think on your feet. You just never liked to be alone. 

Safety in numbers and all that. 

When you did reach the town, or at least the outskirts of its centre, he didn’t immediately bolt. That was as good a sign as any. 

Too bad that was when the lightheadedness came back in full swing. 

You stumbled to a stop, gripping the brick wall of what used to be a post office as an anchor. You closed your eyes and tried to fight through the inevitable exhaustion weighing you down. Blame it on the dehydration, mostly empty stomach, and, of course, the lingering effects of blood loss for an already bruised and battered body. 

“Pharmacy’s jus’ up the road.” 

Daryl was just up ahead, facing your way and squinting from the direct rays of sun. The light caught in small drops of sweat along his arms and the metallic shine of that heavy crossbow in his hand as he waited for you. 

Too busy trying to ground yourself to that rough brick you palmed, you hadn’t even noticed that Daryl had stopped once the shuffle of your feet was no longer echoing his. 

You took a deep breath and nodded once, pushing yourself forward. In four steps, you were able to finally wade past the worst waves of nausea and focus on the cool air in your lungs, instead. 

Daryl glanced back at you once— twice— more. 

“Hurtin’ again?” 

“No. It’s just… everything else.” 

Slightly, he nodded. That seemed to be the most care he had to offer— reserved looks your way and a quick question. He never reached out a hand or, God forbid, offered to carry you there. 

Regardless, the pharmacy really was only up the road. After five or so minutes of mindlessly watching the debris lining the road dance in the wind while giving your head a chance to stop that slow spin, Daryl cleared the store and led you inside.

It was sparse and smelt like rot. Sun peeked through the windows, bare of the newspaper or wooden boards that usually lined shops nowadays. You could see most of the room, the sprawl of crushed supplies under fallen shelves, broken cardboard boxes across dirty, grey-tiled floors, and the yellow hue of water damage staining the ceiling. Past the store's clear windows and unlocked door, its welcoming appearance ceased. 

You stepped forward and caught Daryl’s look from your peripheral. 

“Sit down.” 

“I told you I’m good at—” 

Mid-sentence, he turned on his heel. You huffed a breath, then sat on the window ledge behind with a scowl. His overcautious behaviour was beginning to make you feel useless. 

Daryl came back with fresh gauze and a small tube of topical antibiotic cream. And while that seemed like a damn miracle, you both knew what you really needed was a good rinse with clean water and soap, proper antibiotic treatment for the dirt and sweat that inevitably got into the wound, and a full dressing accompanied by crutches and a week's worth of rest. But all he could offer was what was held in his left hand.

It would have to do. 

You shuffled deeper into the store and away from that clear window. As you sat on the cold ground and adjusted your leg so that it was laid straight out under a particularly strong ray of sunlight, you glanced up at Daryl, lingering a few feet away, on guard. 

“How’d you know this was here, anyway?”

“Been through ‘ere before.” 

He continued to stare out the window, oblivious, or maybe just indifferent, to your attempt at distraction. 

Without another word, you got to work in silence. The knot he tied was good, and it took you a bit too long to figure out the way his fingers had weaved the fabric so that you could reverse the work of a stranger’s kindness. The shelves of the aisle were pressing into your back, but you were more focused on the reemerging pain in your leg. The raw wound was rubbed, gently, with a piece of gauze in a miserable attempt to clean it better. There were bits of dirt that you could see under the sun, bits that he probably missed with nothing but the moonlight to guide his first attempt. 

Sometime in between your soft whines of pain, he grabbed your gun from the back of his pants, weighing the weapon in his hands. The way he held the weapon like it was heavier than his crossbow caught your attention. That, and you were thankful for a second to not stare at the shallow, swollen gash of red and pink ripping through your thigh. He seemed to have felt your stare burning through him, though, and his narrow eyes snapped your way. 

A moment passed in silence, the two of you watching the other, intently, until you finally opened your mouth.

“I wasn’t gonna shoot you,” you confessed, “back at the cabin.” 

He waited for you to continue.

“I was just scared.”

“Why’d ya come back for me?” he asked, gruff voice just above a whisper. 

Deep in thought, you looked between him and the gun. 

“You would’ve died.” Your eyes fell to the ground as you added under your breath, “Enough people already died that day.” 

The slight furrow of his brow, the sudden blink, and every other subtle sign of confusion that flashed across his face weren’t lost on you. Above all else, you understood his bafflement; you’d saved a man who made it abundantly clear that his interest lay in your death. He was going to kill you. It wasn’t a spineless threat or a mean look that could’ve killed— no, he cocked that gun against your forehead. He felt the solid bone of your skull underneath, and if it hadn’t been for the threat of the dead, that bullet would’ve shattered your head open. 

Again, his expression shifted in the silent tension, twisting into something that he might’ve not even known himself. Something hesitant and reserved. 

You wrapped a fresh bandage around the wound as he watched. 

“Then why the poncho?” 

You paused. 

“I know what it’s like to find something that belonged to someone you lost.” 

Your eyes shifted, staring further than they saw. A moment passed like that, you lost in thought and him processing that meaning, until you sucked in a breath and reigned your attention back in. 

You gave a half-hearted smile. “And�� maybe I can be a bit foolish.” 

His tone sounded more confused than scolding when he said, “Ya coulda died.”

“I’m glad I didn’t.” You laughed, “Wouldn’t that be ridiculous? Eaten alive because I went back to save a poncho.” 

For a man that probably hated you, no less. 

Those pensive, blue eyes slipped from your timid smile, falling on a much more serious sight; the flimsy wrap of your bandage. It wasn’t like you weren’t trying to wrap it well, but you didn’t exactly have experience tending to your own stab wounds, even if they were as shallow as this one. Your heart dropped an inch, teeth digging into your cheek from the worry that he was about to tell you exactly what an idiot you were, for almost dying and not being able to take care of yourself. 

“’S too loose.” 

You sighed because he was right. Working overtop of your jeans was difficult enough as it was, the risk of infection likely a scary percentage, so the bandage you did manage needed to be stronger. Tougher. Of course, he knew that. 

Right as you began to undo the dressing, calloused fingers wrapped around your hand. Your breath caught in your throat, lips parting as shock froze you from the inside out. His hand moved yours, a stark contrast of warmth against your stiff fingers. He began to unravel the gauze from your grip. White tissue tangled, tied your cold fingers to his meticulous ones, briefly, until the rest of the bundle freed. 

There was something incredibly tender about the whole moment; the silence, for once, was not weighed down completely by a thick, overwhelming tension. Though, whispers of it lingered, understandably so. This was the first time you saw him show you care, beyond saving you from the dead, and it gave you an idea of just how much work he must’ve put into getting you away from that first herd, wrapping your wound, and finding that house to hide in all while you were passed out. 

And suddenly, despite all the mean glares and harsh questioning, hate seemed too strong a word for someone as merciful as Daryl proved. 

“How’d ya get it, anyway?” he asked in a raspy tone. 

You blinked. Inhaled, as if you’d forgotten to breathe until then. 

“Brian,” you answered. “I kinda… jumped him when I realized what it was— what he was. He had a rock or something.” 

He wrapped the last pass of the gauze. It was tight, but it was a lot stronger and safer than your attempt had been. 

“Lucky he didn’t jus’ shoot ya.”

“He lost his gun while fighting that guy.” 

Daryl tensed, leaning back to look up at you. The warmth at your leg was gone then— comfort sorely lacking as the chill of the tile and shelves surrounding you numbed your skin again. Yet, it was the look in his eye that almost made you shiver. 

“Wha’ guy?” 

“The one he was talking to at the fences… Rick, right?” 

The clench of his jaw confirmed your suspicions. 

“He’s not dead.” You leaned down an inch to catch his fallen gaze. “After Brian stabbed me, the woman he took hostage killed him. Probably would’ve killed me too if I hadn’t run away.” Your expression fell at the memory of that dark, vengeful look in her eye. “But I— I think they got out together.” 

Daryl stared at you. It wasn’t cruel or indignant, but it wasn’t soft or kind, either. Blank, if anything, like he was holding everything back. 

He turned toward the front of the store and then stood up. “‘M gonna look for more supplies. You stay ‘ere.” 

The air sucked out of your lungs as a bolt of fear struck you. 

“Daryl?” Your head turned to follow him. Lower lip quivering with blatant anxiety, you croaked out, “You’re not gonna leave me here, are you?”

The tension in his jaw didn’t release. 

“Nah.” 

You bit your lip. “I had to ask.” 

He nodded, then left. 

Not even an hour later, that little bell above the front door you’d been intently watching rang. Daryl’s broad frame passed through with that same backpack strapped behind him, only this time, it looked heavier than before. 

God, please have water. 

You sat up straight. “You’re back.” 

“Told ya I would be.” He slid the bag off, dropping it to the ground in front of you. “Found somethin’ to drink.” 

You smiled at that— actually smiled, teeth and all, and it might’ve been the first time he ever saw it. In your excitement, you didn’t even notice the way his hand steadied, hovering above the bag’s zipper as his attention stuck on you a second too long. 

He pulled out a bottle of some orange sports drink. It was too sweet, swimming with higher sugar contents than you’d been exposed to in the last two years of scavenging and hunting, but it soothed the dryness of your throat, all the same. You drank at least half the bottle, glancing at him between big sips until he finally nodded. 

“There’s only a couple more,” he said, screwing the cap back on. 

“That’s fine.” You shook your head and wiped your chin. “That was good.” 

“Found somethin’ to eat, too.” He pulled a silver can out of the bag. “Lemme heat it, first.” 

You did. He started a small fire just outside the store, letting the can sit above the flames until the soup was boiling. When it was safe to touch, he trailed back through the store and he held it out to you with a single spoon. 

Your brows furrowed at his otherwise empty hands. 

“Ya need to eat.” 

“But what about you?” 

Passing the can off to you, he dug inside the front pocket of his patch-worked pants. He pulled out a granola bar, barely half the width of his wrist, and your heart dropped. 

Hunger, pain, dehydration— he’d helped you through it all. And the combination of those feelings, with the heaviest weight of what you did to his home dragging your heart into the deepest pit of your stomach, brought a sudden tear to your eye. You looked down at the full can of vegetable soup sitting in your hands, the thin wisps of steam lifting off it, and that same tear rolled down your cheek. 

If he saw it, he didn’t say anything about it. The air was heavy but silent. When you finally looked up and met his soft stare, laced with something you hadn’t seen in his blue eyes before, you knew he had seen the single trail down your face. 

With a quick, nonchalant sniffle, you looked around the back room he’d led you into. The carpet was more comfortable than the title outside and considering that the floor was likely to be your bed for the night, you were thankful for the change in scenery. There were office supplies in the room; pens, paper, and a couple of filing cabinets. Placing the can down for a second, you reached over to grab a mug tossed on its side and used the end of your shirt to wipe away the dust. 

When it seemed clean enough, you poured half the soup inside.

Daryl’s eyes never moved off you— not once— and that same hesitancy you saw earlier was back. 

“Please,” your voice broke, gesturing the mug out closer to him. 

His heavy stare lingered a second longer, then he finally accepted. 

Daryl tilted the mug up, taking a large swig. It was only then that you allowed yourself to take a bite— no matter how hollow you had felt waiting for your next meal. 

His throat tightened around the warm liquid. It tasted like bile. You were eating the soup just fine, except for the stray tears marking your face, so whatever he tasted, whatever that feeling was, aching deep in his chest, was coming from him. 

Daryl had known anger his whole life. This wasn’t quite that. His chest tightened the same, muscles tensing, but there wasn’t a yell caught in his throat. No harsh words were about to slip off his tongue. And yet, if there was ever a time to be so, Daryl should have been angry now. Most people would— hell, even you had told him he’d had every right to hate you. 

See, maybe that was the problem. Daryl had dealt with more than his fair share of liars, before and after the world ended. He practically knew how to sniff them out, but you were clean of it. So damn sincere with every word you said. Even the way you looked at him, big eyes, timid and full of remorse, almost made him feel guilty for every mean look he gave you. 

Almost. Because then the red staining Hershel’s skin spotted his vision, and maybe he wasn’t angry at you, but he certainly couldn’t like you, either. Even if you had helped Carl and Rick. Even if you told him, with a pretty glimmer of hope in your eyes, that at least some of his people had made it out. 

After you scraped the bottom of that can and your face dried, you said, “You should sleep. I can keep watch.”

Daryl looked back to the wooden door he led you through, the only thing between you and the rest of that open, vulnerable store. 

“You’ve barely slept,” you added. 

He still ignored you. 

But then you sighed, and it was hard to miss the hint of guilt in your tone, “I get you don’t trust me. I don’t blame you. What I did, what I was a part of… It— It was horrible. I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you why I did what I did, how Brian convinced us to—” 

Daryl closed his eyes. He already knew how manipulative and convincing the Governor could be. He’d seen people even as headstrong as Merle fall into line for him. A girl like you, compassionate and maybe a bit naive, would do the same, easily. 

Merle had always called him the softer brother. That was probably one of the few things he was right about.

“I know wha’ he told ya.”

Your eyes widened, shocked by his interruption and admission. 

“We dealt with him before. Called himself the Governor back then, ‘n he did the same thing. Found himself a group ‘n turned ‘em into soldiers. Lied about us, said we’d kill ‘em if they didn’t kill us first.”

You swallowed as a heavy feeling sunk into your stomach. “He said you— you killed his daughter. Took his eye and his town.” 

“His daughter was a walker,” Daryl huffed. “They came after us, ’n when we scared ‘em off, the Governor opened fire. He slaughtered his soldiers. All of ‘em.” 

You could only nod. 

“The survivors, the ones he didn’t kill, we took ‘em in. Jus’ like Rick said.” 

Your expression was blank as your gut twisted, afraid that any emotion you spared might come off as pitiful when really, all you felt was shame. An all-consuming dread amongst aching wishes that things hadn’t placed out the way they did, and a pang of sickening guilt that your hands had played a part in the reason why it happened— 

“He woulda done wha’ he did with or without your help,” Daryl mumbled, “ya didn’t do tha’, he did.” 

The swarming guilt didn’t clear, but it was certainly a surprise that Daryl was the one to slow your spiralling thoughts. And in the thick of your conscience, a wave of something else, something fervent and altruistic, filled the doubtful holes that shame left you. 

Your voice was soft and steady when you said, “Maybe it wasn’t just Rick and that woman.” 

Daryl looked at you, confused. 

“More of your people could’ve gotten out.” 

Daryl wasn’t expecting that. Just like you were shocked to find comfort in him, he was shocked to find bravery and confidence in you. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you were those things. He knew you were, you went back for the damn poncho, for one— that was brave, reckless, but brave. But it was his family. He should’ve been the one to be firm on their survival. You should’ve held that pessimistic tone in your voice when you spoke about them— not him. And yet, here you were, fiddling a piece of string between your fingers, demeanour as gentle as you spoke, offering him a hint of hope to hold onto again. 

“And, if you’re gonna look for them, I want to help you.” 

Daryl’s eyes softened, but he hadn’t grabbed onto that hope, just yet. He wasn’t sure if he could. 

“But you need to sleep, first. Please.” 

That, he could do. Which was another surprise; you seemed to be full of those. He obliged and for the first time since you’d met Daryl, you held watch late into the night. 

————————————————————

-> part four

A/N: I love this part hehe. they finally start to bond and him HELPING WITH THE BANDAGE??? I am screaming (at my own story lol...)

if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3

[kingofbodyrolls]

Coming Home (m) | PJM | Epilogue

When your best friend, Park Jimin, who you’ve had a crush on since forever, suggests you stay at his house to heal and find yourself again after a series of traumatizing events had haunted you for years, you don’t hesitate to accept. Within those walls, a safe haven is woven, where wounds can heal and memories find release. As he nurtures your shattered spirit, an unexpected intimacy unfurls, leaving the fragile barrier between friendship and deeper emotions in question - can you keep your feelings hidden?

→ Pairing: Jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”) → Other characters: Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, OC (female, she is the therapist) and another OC (male, he is the perp). Also readers parents and mention of Jimin's. → AUs: Best friends to lovers!au, detective!jimin → Genres/themes: thriller/dark, yandere vibes, slice of life, healing after trauma, angst, smut and fluff. → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 → Word count: 5,3k → Warnings: Explicit smut, kissing, cuddling/spooning, unprotected penetrative sex (stay safe - OC’s on the pill), slice of life, healing after trauma, BIG feelings, protective, fluffy and sweet Jimin, he is just soft and loving 🥹 → Disclaimer about warnings: I know nothing about sexual or physical abuse (I only know psychological because I experienced that, not in a sexual context though). This story is fiction, I do not mean to say that this is how one would go through their emotions or handle this situation. This is a delicate and fragile subject, so proceed with caution. I also know nothing about police work or the work in emergency/hospitals. Also, I don’t own BTS or know how they would act in a similar situation. This story is purely fiction, a fragment of my imagination. They just inspire me so much 💜

Cross posted to AO3!

→ Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings

← previous | s.masterlist | s.masterlist |

With the capture of the perpetrator, the weight that had loomed over your life like a persistent shadow should have been lifted. 

The threat was gone, the danger subsided, yet an inexplicable unease still clung to your heart. The ordeal had left scars that extended beyond the physical realm, and even though the world appeared safer now, the echoes of fear lingered in the corners of your mind. 

Stepping out into the public domain did offer some relief, as the open spaces and bustling crowds served as a reminder that you were no longer being watched, that the eyes of the perpetrator were no longer fixated on you. 

But the invisible chains of anxiety and trauma proved harder to break, leaving you struggling to embrace the newfound freedom.

In the midst of this turmoil, Jimin had emerged as your steadfast pillar of support. His love for you seemed to shine even brighter in the aftermath of the ordeal. 

Every gesture, no matter how small, was a testament to his devotion. His warm embraces provided solace, his soothing words acted as a healing balm, and his unwavering presence brought a sense of security that you craved. 

As you navigated the uncharted waters of recovery, his actions spoke volumes. His insistence on making you feel cherished and safeguarded demonstrated his commitment to helping you heal, piece by piece. 

Even the suggestion of a couple’s retreat - a space where both of you could disconnect from the outside world and reconnect with each other, reflected his understanding of your needs.

The decision to book the retreat for the upcoming weekend became a glimmer of anticipation, a beacon of hope that promised serenity and a fresh start. Jimin’s thoughtfulness in organizing this escape showcased his unwavering love, a reminder that he was by your side, willing to venture into the journey of healing together. 

As the days passed and the retreat started to blossom within you, fueled by the love that Jimin showered upon you - a love that had the power to mend even the deepest wounds of the soul.

In your psychologist’s cozy office, the safe space where you could unravel your thoughts without reservation, you found yourself grappling with emotions that seemed stubbornly persistent. 

The sessions had become a refuge, a place where you could articulate the turmoil within you, even if the words felt inadequate to capture the complexity of your feelings.

Sitting across from Chin-Sun, you hesitated for a moment before finally expressing your confusion. The logical part of you recognized that the ordeal was over, that you were safe now, yet the emotion remnants refused to be neatly tidied away. 

You confessed your longing to feel fine and restored, a desire that contrasted starkly with the lingering unease. Her response, though comforting, carried the weight of time. 

The promise of gradual healing felt like a distant horizon, a place you yearned to reach but couldn’t see clearly just yet. As the words left her lips, you absorbed the truth that recovery wasn’t a linear path, that it entailed both patience and persistence. 

But even amid the uncertainty, there was a glimmer of hope. Her assurance that, in time, you would regain a sense of ease in your day-to-day life acted as a reassuring beacon. The thought of stepping into a future where anxiety no longer held dominion over your every thought was a vision you clung to, a vision that fueled your determination to push through the lingering discomfort.

With each session, you uncover layers of emotions, gradually unraveling the complex web woven by trauma and fear. Chin-Sun’s words became a steady guide, reminding you that the path to healing was as unique as your journey through the ordeal itself. 

And as you navigated the ebb and flow of your emotions under her guidance, you found solace in the belief that, with time and the support of those who cared for you, the shadows of anxiety and fear would eventually give way to sunlight of healing and newfound tranquility.

As the weekend unfolds, you find yourself at the threshold of a new chapter in your journey to healing. The anticipation of the couple’s retreat was a mix of excitement and trepidation, a concoction of emotions that accompanies you on the drive towards the coastal haven that awaits.

The journey itself was a symphony of melodies and laughter, a playlist carefully curated to match the journey’s rhythm. 

Jimin’s lighthearted banter wove a tapestry of comfort, a reminder that you were embarking on this adventure together. The miles between your home and the retreat melts away beneath the wheels of the car, replaced by a sense of togetherness that only grows with every passing moment. 

And then, as the tires crunches on the gravel path leading to the retreat, a new vista opens before you. The sun slowly begins to paint the sky with hues of gold and tangerine, mirroring the warmth that emanates from within. 

As you checked in and received the key to your room, the promise of respite beckoned like a soft melody.

Entering your cozy haven for the weekend, you were met with a sense of comfort and sanctuary. The king-sized bed, invitingly adorned with soft linens, seemed to promise restful nights.

The windows framing the beach were like portals to serenity, the sound of waves a gentle lullaby that seemed to whisper tales of healing and renewal. 

The en-suite bathroom, the closet, and even the mini fridge held a promise of convenience, ensuring that your stay would be as enjoyable as it was peaceful.

The allure of the beach was irresistible, beckoning like an old friend ready to envelop you in its soothing embrace. The soft rhythm of waves breaking against the shore was a symphony that set the pace for the evening. 

Hand in hand with Jimin, you venture onto the sandy canvas, your spirits lifted by the promise of carefree moments ahead. The sun’s warm caress was a gentle reminder of the joys of summer, and as you settled down, the grains of sand molding to the contours of your bodies, a sense of tranquility settled over you. 

The world beyond the shoreline seemed distant, leaving only the two of you in this intimate cocoon of relaxation.

As you lay back, the ocean breeze carrying whispers of salt and adventure, you find yourself immersed in a gentle conversation. Stories flow like tributaries merging into a river of memories, laughter punctuating every anecdote. High school escapades and college misadventures were shared like treasures, creating a tapestry of moments that bound you even closer. 

The sound of the waves seemed to echo the rhythm of your hearts, each beat a testament to the connection you share. 

As the sun begins its descent towards the horizon, casting long shadows along the shore, you exchange glances that speak volumes. 

The love and comfort that you had found in each other’s company was a treasure that had been unearthed, a gift that was now a part of your journey. And as the waves continued their eternal dance, you knew that this day, this time together, would forever remain etched in your hearts.

The echoes of laughter and the gentle crash of waves followed you as you left the beach behind, moving towards a quaint local restaurant nestled in the heart of the town. Its welcoming lights flickered like fireflies in the evening sky, drawing you closer to a promise of culinary delights and shared moments. 

The restaurant’s ambiance was a blend of cozy charm and a  touch of rustic elegance setting the stage for a memorable evening. The aroma of freshly prepared dishes wafted through the air, tickling your senses and stirring an eager anticipation within. 

As you settle into your seats, the soft glow of candlelight illuminated the menus before you. Each bite is a symphony of flavors, a fusion of artistry and passion that delights your taste buds. 

The richness of the red wine compliments the meal, enhancing the experience with its velvety notes. Between mouthfuls, you exchange glances that speak a language all you own; a silent acknowledgement of the shared contentment that fills the space between you.

The evening air is crisp and invigorating as you step out of the restaurant, your fingers instinctively entwine as if unwilling to let go og the connection that binds you. 

The town is alive with the gentle hum of its nightlife, a backdrop to your leisurely stroll back to the retreat. The world around you seems to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you, cocooned in a bubble of timelessness.

With every step, every shared smile and whispered word, the love you felt for each other seems to amplify. The moon cast its silvery glow, lighting your path and lending an ethereal quality to the night. 

The way your breaths seem to synchronize, the way your fingers interlock, it is as if the universe is orchestrating this moment, recognizing the profound bond that you share. 

As you enter your room, the echoes of the day’s laughter and shared stories seem to linger in the air. The curtains dance with the gentle breeze, casting intricate patterns on the floor, a reflection of the intricate journey you had undertaken together. 

And as you settle in for the night, the soft rustle of sheets mingling with the beating of your hearts, a reminder that in each other’s arms, you had found a safe haven, a place where your eternal love could flourish. 

The room was silent except for the sound of your beating hearts. You sigh and feel Jimin press his warm body into yours, spooning you tighter. 

You relish in his hold and let out a soft moan, while you try to calm your racing thoughts. You feel so loved here in his loving embrace, and you realize that you want him like this for the rest of your life. 

He presses his crotch into your ass, and you feel his growing erection grind into you. 

A deep groan escapes his soft plush lips as he rolls his hips against you sensually. Wetness begins to pool between your legs and you squirm as an involuntary moan leaves your mouth. Fuck.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks innocently in a teasing voice, giving another delightful roll of his hips to your ass. Fuck, the duality of this man, you think as you chuckle and moan in frustration.

“Not with that hard dick of yours grinding on my ass,” he moves to hover over you, looking you straight in the eyes, his breath already ragged. 

He leans down, locks your lips in a tender and sweet kiss and then makes a slow and forceful grind with his dick to your clothed cunt. In search of release you arch your back and moan his name hungry for more.

“Take this off,” he tugs at your shirt, well his shirt. 

You shimmy into a seating position, as he sits on his knees and helps you get rid of the offending piece of clothing, leaving your naked breasts for his eyes to soak in.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he sucks in a breath and licks his lips teasingly. 

You feel more of your arousal soaking your panties at his pleasing words.

He pushes you lightly down again with a smirk lacing his lips as he looks just about ready to devour you whole. “You’re not that bad yourself” you laugh wholeheartedly, catching his attention as your boobs jiggle. 

He makes another grind to your pussy and your chuckles are immediately replaced with a growl of his pretty name. He lets out a pleased sigh and smiles, before he surges down to your neck, sucking lightly. 

Nipping at your neck, he leaves small marks in his wake as he slowly descends down your tingling body.

He kisses your collarbones, licking his way down to one of your breasts. He licks around it playfully, before he captures your hardened nipple in a swift motion. He teaks and pinches, making you moan the prettiest noises as his dick twitches inside his boxers. 

For a minute or maybe two, he played with your tits, squeezing them together, flicking and sucking.

“Jimin, ah!” you whimper as you run your hands over his tensed abdomen. He kisses down your soft stomach, venturing down to your throbbing pussy. You feel his hot breath on your clothed core, as he licks his lips before sliding your panties off.

“So fucking wet for me, huh?” his eyes are sinful, as he checks out your cunt, before diving in.

He pinches your clit with his thumb and index finger, “So swollen I can almost feel it pulsating.”

With his pretty, plush lips he wraps around your clit and sucks it into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it, while his hands slip under your ass to hold you closer to his face. Then he moves down to your slit, fingers stretching you open as he laps at your folds. You feel delirious, your juices slowly running down. 

Your hands find his beautiful head of soft black hair, and you pull on it as he eats you out like a man starved.

Slurping noises fill the room, making your pussy clench in anticipation. 

The more he sucked or touched you, the wetter you grew. Removing his tongue from your core, he sits up, appreciating the view. By the lack of contact you let out a frustrating growl. 

But you don’t have to wait long before he inserts his index finger into your throbbing cunt. You hiss and clench at the contact, but relax the following second as he slowly starts pushing his digit in and out of your pussy. 

With your wetness, the glide is easy and it doesn’t take long before you are used to the intrusion of his finger inside of you. His one finger reaches deep inside your cunt and you moan in pleasure as he watches you close your eyes, throwing your head back into the mattress.

You begin to feel the pleasure building in your stomach and for a moment your toes begin to curl, “Shit! I’m almost there, Jimin–”

The second finger he adds, gives you a slight stretch and you feel your breath hitch. He hums, pleased, as he starts pumping his index and middle finger in and out of you, slow at first. 

As you moan his name and curses leave your mouth unabashedly, he picks up the pace more as your noises spurs him on. It’s not long before he adds a third finger, and you arch your back at the stretch, but Jimin places his other hand on your stomach, pressing you down to the bed. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you whimper as he begins to fuck you harder, fingers slipping in and out of you. He scissors you open, pulling out and searching for your sweet spot when pushing in again. 

As the pads of his fingers tickle and press on your sweet spot, you mewl.

He dives back down to your clit, starts sucking as he fingers you at a fast pace. 

You feel your body tighten, your vision going blurry and you close your eyes as you come undone to a moan that sounds awfully like his name. You huff for breath, as Jimin keeps lapping and fucking you slowly with his fingers, helping you ride out your orgasm. 

“Fuck” he growls as he removes his fingers, taking them up to his mouth, licking each digit dry of your slick juices. 

You leave out a dragged out groan, “Fuck, that’s hot” and feel your pussy throbbing again.

He removes his boxers, freeing his raging hard cock, giving it a stroke as he throws his head back while letting out a soft moan of your name. 

You lick your lips and reach a hand out to touch his dick, but he swats it away, “Sorry babe, but I desperately need to be inside you. You can suck me off later.” 

You don’t want to be one to complain, when you already feel a new flood of arousal drenching your pussy, mixing with your earlier orgasm and his saliva. He gives his dick another stroke, as he looks deeply into your lust filled eyes.

When he braces your folds, you gulp and let out a delicious moan. As he drags himself further into your warm hole, he pants in your ear. You shudder and roll your eyes back as his lustful sounds send tingles down your spine.

You grab his biceps, as he pushes himself all the way in, making you feel so fucking full. 

“It’s so good, Jimin!” you whimper as your hands clench tighter around his biceps. As he drags his cock out and then back in, he hisses in pleasure. 

“Damn, you still feel so tight” he growls  as he sets a slow pace, fucking you tenderly, as he looks at you with hooded eyes. 

“Faster, Jimin,” you pant as he picks up the pace and starts fucking you faster. 

He drags himself out, only to push back into you with so much force you feel his hips dip into your ass. You feel delirious as he begins to hit your g-spot repeatedly, making you breathe like you just ran a marathon. 

Sweat beads at your hairline, and you notice sweat dripping off Jimin's handsome face. He pants and moans your name, as he fucks you deeply.

“Fuck, Jimin! I, I-” you begin, panting hurriedly. He slows the pace down for you to make a coherent sentence.

“Do you want to come on my ass?” you manage to ask him, albeit shyly as you feel your face turn beet red as a blush settles.

He stops his motions for a second, looking at you endearingly and he chuckles at your sudden shyness, “Fuck yeah”. 

He pulls out of you, and for a moment you feel so empty, as you turn around, on your hands and knees, stinking your ass in the air towards his slick cock.

You push yourself back, with one of Jimin’s hands on your ass and the other on his dick, he guides you back onto it. 

He enters your pussy without much discomfort, but you do feel a slight stretch at the new angle and you can already feel him hit inside you deeper. 

Your head falls down on the bed, droll pooling at your mouth and running down to the sheets. He picks up at a fast pace right from the get go, hands on each side of your ass, as he thrusts deep inside you.

“Jimin, I’m coming!” you moan his name as you feel the knot in your stomach about to snap. With one hand, he finds your clit, pinches it hard, then rubs it in circular motions. 

He alternates between quick and slow, and it's making you go crazy. Your chest moves up and down, as you heave for air, face pressed to the sheets and hands clenching around it.

You feel your vision blur as your orgasm overtakes you moments after he begins to touch your clit. Your tight walls close around him and he feel his own orgasm tethering dangerously close and he knows that if he wants to cum on your ass, he has to fucking pull out now. 

But he wants to stay a bit longer inside your warm pulsating cave, as you ride out your orgasm.

“Fuck!” he yells as he pounds into you and then he pulls out and strokes his dick and releases his semen on your ass. 

You jiggle your ass teasingly, and he grabs some of your soft flesh, squeezing it in his hand as he gasps for air as he rests his throbbing dick on your ass.

You feel so utterly tired that you collapse on the bed, so out of breath. Your body feels tingly and spent. You turn to your side as you watch Jimin follow suit and fall down beside you, with his back to you.

“You have a tattoo?!” you almost shriek, but your sore throat makes it sound more like a whimper than anything else. He chuckles and nods his head into the bed. 

Why haven’t you seen that before?

 Instinctively, your fingers begin to trace the contours of his spine, his delicate tattoo etched into his skin like a secret map. Three moon phases line down his spine, and they almost glisten under the soft ambient light of the room. 

“Do the moons mean anything significant?” you ask as your fingers keep tracing the ink. 

“Yeah. They each represent a meaningful chapter in my life” he turns around to face you, and captures you in a chaste kiss. 

“Turn back, I wanna look at it again” you say as you poke him in the shoulder to get him to move around. As he turns his back to you again, your touch lingers over the tattoo, the significance of its design tugging at the strings of your heart.

You trace the first moon, on the top of his spine, closest to his neck. “That one is of the moon’s phase the very first day we met in kindergarten,” a nostalgic smile tugs at your lips, as you trace the crescent of that first moon, your minds remembering your beginnings, the days of shared crayons and laughter in the playground. 

Your hand then travels to the second moon, more pronounced and radiant. 

“That one is of the moon’s phase on the day in high school I realized I had feelings for you,” a rush of memories floods your mind, the playful teasing and stolen glances that had marked the awakening of something deeper. 

The tattoo seemed to capture the essence of that realization - a confession of feelings that had simmered beneath the surface. 

And finally, your fingers land on the third moon phase adorning his skin. 

“That's the day that I became a police officer”. It represents the day he had chosen a path of courage and responsibility. The weight of that decision, the commitment to safeguarding others, was etched into the ink, a mark of dedication that mirrors the love he has for you.

As you traced the contours of each moon, it was as if you were tracing the trajectory of your lives, the shared milestones that had shaped you into the people you were today. 

The tattoo was more than an artwork; it was a testament to the depth of your connection, a tangible embodiment of the love that had blossomed against all odds. The moon phases held a mirror to your journey, each one reflecting a facet of your shared history. 

The innocence, the awakening, the unwavering devotion - they were all there, etched in indelible ink. And as you let your fingers linger, you realize that this tattoo is part of him, a part of you, and a part of the beautiful tapestry you have woven together. 

It’s a reminder that even in the darkest of nights, the moon still shone, casting its gentle light on the path you have and will walk together.

Amid the gentle lapping of the waves and the soft rustle of the night breeze, an unspoken tenderness envelops you both. 

The atmosphere seems to shimmer with an almost palpable sense of affection, your fingers intertwining and tracing his moon tattoos as the conversation flows effortlessly. With each word exchanged, the layers of your relationship are peeled back, revealing vulnerabilities, dreams, and reflections. 

The notion of having done things backward danced into the conversation, a thought that had crossed your mind more than once. You share how you felt that maybe, in another universe, you could have come together sooner, avoiding the pain and suffering that had marked your past. It is a sentiment laced with regret, a tinge of what-ifs.

Jimin’s warm gaze, however, held a different perspective. He listens to your words, his thumb brushing tenderly over your hand as he prepares to share his thoughts. 

“You know,” he begins softly, “I believe that every step we took, every twist and turn, brought us to this exact moment. Maybe it wasn’t the path we expected, but it was the one we needed.” 

You feel tears pool at your waterline by his soft spoken words.

His words resonate with a quote of wisdom, a profound understanding that speaks to the intricacies of your bond. 

He goes on, his voice carrying the weight of his emotions, “And as much as I wish you didn’t have to endure what you did, I also believe that it’s part of what makes you so incredibly strong, so resilient. It’s a testament to your spirit.” 

With every syllable, he seems to weave a tapestry of reassurance, affirming that even the darkest chapters have a role to play in shaping your love story. 

And then, in a moment that leaves you truly speechless, he produces a ring, a delicate masterpiece of metal and gemstone that glints in the low lit bedroom.

Your heart skips a beat, as he looks into your eyes, his voice steady and brimming with affection. 

“Y/N, you’ve shown me a love I never knew was possible. You’ve been my rock, my partner and my best friend. Will you marry me?” the words hung in the air, the weight of his proposal settling between you like a cherished promise. 

Tears gather in the corners of your eyes, shimmering like dewdrops under the moonlight. 

A surge of emotions overwhelm you, and as you nod, words escaping you, the tears finally spill over. 

You reach out to him, your arms wrapping around his naked body in an embrace that holds the universe of your feelings.

The kiss that follows feels like a culmination of every shared laughter, every tear wiped away, every hurdle overcome. 

The ring on your finger feels like a circle binding your past, present, and future together, a symbol of the love that had weathered trials and emerged stronger.

 And in the quiet harmony of your hearts, you both know that this is just the beginning of a new chapter - one where your love, tested and unwavering, would continue to grow and flourish.

The following day greets you with a sense of tranquility, a feeling that seems to linger from the beautiful moments shared the previous evening. The sun baths the world in a gentle glow, casting a warm invitation to embrace the day ahead.

You and Jimin had decided that today was all about relaxation and release. 

The tension that had built up over months, the weight of past trauma and newfound joys, all deserved their own moment of acknowledgement and release.

The luxurious spa you enter seems like a haven of serenity, a space designed to envelop you in a cocoon of calmness. Soft, ambient music hummed in the background, and the soothing scent of essential oils filled the air. 

You exchange knowing glances as you change into plush robes, ready to let go of the worries that had become far too familiar.

The skilled hands of the massage therapist work their magic, kneading away the knots of stress and worry that had taken residence in your bodies. 

With each press and stroke, you could feel the tension slowly dissipating, replaced by a sense of ease that was long overdue. As you lay side by side, lost in the world of tranquility, you could almost hear the sigh of relief echoing between you. 

It is as if the very act of being pampered is a balm for your souls, a way to acknowledge the challenges you’d faced and celebrate the triumphs you’d achieved.

After the massages, you emerge from the spa like new beings, your steps lighter, your expressions more serene. 

As you make your way back to the retreat, a quiet understanding passes between you. The intensity of your experiences had deepened the bond between you, making the simplest moments feel profound.

With the gentle caress of the breeze on your skin, you settle down on the patio of your suite, where a table is set for a delightful lunch. 

The azure expanse of the ocean stretched out before you, its rhythmic waves serving as a reminder of the ebb and flow of life itself. The delicate clinking of glasses and the murmur of the waves intertwine in perfect harmony, creating a symphony of relaxation. Plates adorned with delicious dishes are placed before you, a feast that mirrored the nourishment your relationship had provided in recent times. 

As you savor each bite, the laughter that punctuates your conversations feels like a melodic thread, weaving through the tapestry of your shared experiences. You speak of dreams, future plans, and even the silliest stories from your childhoods. 

In a quiet corner of the world, where the whispers of the ocean and the rustling leaves seem to compose a symphony just for you two, Jimin’s heartfelt words weave a spell that transcends time itself. 

As you sit together on the beach, your fingers entwine and your gazes lock, the weight of the past mingle with the promise of the future. Jimin’s eyes hold a mixture of emotions, a kaleidoscope of regret, determination, and most importantly, an unwavering love that has stood the test of time.

His voice, soft yet resolute, carries his feelings to your heart with each word. 

“Y/N, I’ve loved you all this time,” he confesses again, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he looks at the ring dorning your finger. 

“You are the love of my life, the one who’s been etched into my heart since that very first moment we met” there is a tremor in his voice, a vulnerability that lays bare his soul. 

The frustration of not finding you sooner, of not being able to protect you from the darkness that had clouded your life, weighed heavily on him. 

He isn’t just apologizing for the lost years; he is acknowledging the pain he’d felt for every moment he couldn’t be by your side.

“I regret every moment we were apart, every day I couldn’t hold you close,” he continues, his voice gaining strength as he channels his emotions into his words. 

“But from now on, I promise you, Y/N. I will cherish you like a precious gem, protect you like a shield, and love you with everything I am.” 

With each promise that flows from his lips, it is as if the very atmosphere resonates with his sincerity. The waves seem to whisper agreements, and the wind carries his vows to the universe. 

This moment, under the expanse of the sky and the watchful gaze of the stars, is a testament to the unbreakable bond that had weathered the storms of life. 

As if Jimin’s declaration hung in the air, you can feel the power of his love enveloping you, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety. 

Tears well up in your eyes, not out of sorrow, but out of the overwhelming beauty for this moment. You reach out, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs wiping away the stray tear that has escaped from his eyes.

“I believe you,” you whisper, your voice a gentle affirmation that echoes the depths of your own feelings. “And I love you too, Jimin. With all my heart.”

His smile, a mixture of relief and pure joy, is like a sunrise after a long night. He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that carries the weight of the past and the promise of the future. 

And as your lips touch, it is as if time itself paused, giving you both the chance to savor this moment; a moment that holds the culmination of a love that had traveled through time and adversity to finally find its place in the sun.

→ Author's note: Gosh, I just had to add Jimin’s moon tattoos (in a variation, I know) into the story. Because damn, he looks good with those beautiful moons on his back 🥹 Also, I hope the story wasn’t complete shit - I did enjoy writing it and have more planned (ones with lighter themes. Anyone up for a roadtrip/camping trip with Yoongi? 😝).

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |

[amorchai]

Hello there! May I request Kiriko taking care of her sick S/O? (Gn please) Fall already has me feeling under the weather. Please and thank you! :)

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊.

pairing(s): kiriko x reader

words: 473

warnings/tags: r is sick, pet names + kiriko being a cutie.

it had been a long and hard day, the mission was over and kiriko couldn’t wait to return to the comforts of your apartment and have a well needed rest. healing the entire team and also fighting for her own life was tiring to say in the least and she couldn’t wait to spend her time relaxing.

it was quiet when she entered your apartment. the lights are dim like normal but she can tell something is off. there’s no noise, nobody cooking food or watching tv in the living room but your shoes lay neatly at the door so she knows you’re home.

“y/n?” she enquires quietly into the home, walking through towards the bedroom and slowly pushing the door. you lay in bed, some short coughs falling from your lips and tissues laying on your exhausted duvet-covered frame.

“aw, y/n,” kiriko coos at the sight, you were sniffling and face looked puffy around your eyes and nose, it was obvious you were coming down with the cold.

kiriko forgets her prior excitement to relax as she moves to the side of your bed, her helping hand slowly running across your head in an attempt to soothe you. you had a fever, forehead burning up.

“i’m ill, kiri.” you admit tiredly, voice hoarse.

“i know, it’s okay, i’m here now,” there’s no sight of medication boxes or bottles which leads kiriko to believe you’ve not took anything to help, a lonely empty tea mug laying on your dresser making her tut sympathetically.

she tells you she will be right back before walking to your kitchen, fetching some flu medication, water, and then checking your fridge for ingredients. when she returns, your eyes are closed as you tuck sadly into your pillow.

“honey, you need to take these, please…” kiriko trails off when she returns, and you open your achy eyes to look at your girlfriend before groaning in protest.

her empty hand soothes over your head once more, trying to help usher you in a sitting position so you can take some medication. “please, honey. just think how much better it’ll make you feel soon.”

with another disapproving groan, you listen to kiriko and sit up in your position and take the water and pills she offers. you don’t even get to ask how her day was, her own eyes tired and a scratch or two fading on her face.

“i’m gonna make some soup. my mother’s recipe, okay? you shout on me if you need anything?” kiriko stands from her position while you nod, placing the water aside as you lay back down, head woozy and delirious.

after you close your eyes you feel some pressure on your forehead, kiriko gently kissing upon your skin and mumbling against your skin, “get some rest. i’m here to take care of you now.”

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[love-me-purple]

short shuichi x sick reader fic

cw: stomach ache + headache + thoughts of vomit mentions

a/n: in a sort of cycle at least once or twice every year; i have this sort of thing where i get a migraine and then my stomach hurts like super badly. so, here ya go. why did the audio “ stay don’t touch ” come into my head once i re - read this -

you buried your head in the bedsheets, the whole room seeming way too bright despite the closed blinds and the turned off lights.

shuichi stroked your head and set your glass of water on the nightstand. you hugged a nearby pillow against your belly, feeling as if you could puke at any moment.

you felt the bed shift, shuichi lying down in front of your figure. he whispered in your ear something along the lines of, “it’ll be okay. this will pass eventually,” before carefully wrapping his arms around you.

you tried to savor his touch by moving closer, wincing at the pain that emitted from your stomach and head at the sudden movement.

“a - ah … i should probably get some sort of tylenol or advil or something for you …” shuichi quickly stammered out.

the thought of swallowing that small pill again made you more nauseated than before. you tightened the grip that your eyelids had against each other, showing him that you really just needed him nearby.

you could imagine shuichi smiling softly at your reaction, thinking of how he could convince you to take it. you really needed the extra help to recover …

but as you leaned in more to his simple affectionate actions, he decided ( reluctantly ) to just give in and continue hugging you; summoning the best amount of soothing energy he could.

of course, he wasn’t some sort of god or anything. he didn’t expect you to heal just from his touch alone. but the comfort made you feel as if you get through anything - his presence making the chills surfing through your body subside momentarily.

and soon enough, you fell asleep - the brief escape from the pain and hurt welcoming and warm as shuichi's inviting arms stayed in their place.

[potteryheadd]

No Time To Die Ch.1

Pairing: (Eventually) Bucky Barnes x enhanced!reader

Summary: Endowed with the Infinity Stones, Reader is racing against time to save the universe with the help of MCU hero’s they meet along the way. 

Chapter Summary: Reader makes a tough decision that changes not only their life, but the universe. 

Warnings: angst, Suicidal Ideation (and plans), mild(?) Torture, kidnapping, medical equipment use (tube inserted in body), 

Word Count: 2.6k

a/n - Ahhhhh this has been a long time coming for me. I started this story a year and a half ago when I was in a very dark place. Thankfully with much deserved self reflection and support I am ready to come back to this story. Now, with the help of some of the BEST beta readers I’ve had the pleasure to meet, the first chapter of this series is ready for your enjoyment. ^.^

 p.s I envisioned the reader as plus size and black (cause that’s meee) but it can be read regardless.

Big thanks and love to my beta readers: @srhwho​ @beating-a-dead-plot​ @the-singular-peep​ @who-you-gonna-message​

It’s all gone. 

I’ve finally finished selling all my things, and an empty apartment lies before me. A ghost of what it used to be, really. From furniture, appliances, wall art and throw blankets, down to the Marvel comics and movies I never finished. Given away. I had thought to keep everything the way it was when I left but I know the money I’ve saved can go to a good cause.

The tub is warm and soothing, water nearly spilling out but stays bubbled around the edge as I slip deeper into it. The smell of my last Christmas candle lingers in the air and, if it weren’t for the bottle of pills on the toilet seat cover next to me, I might’ve said this was a pleasant experience. As I stare at them, I can’t help but think how long it would take, would it hurt, should I have picked another way?  

It’s okay, this is what I want. Right? I promised myself if I did everything I could and nothing worked, this could be it. 

A glimmer catches my eye and I turn to see the last thing I own, a photo. A photo of the only thing I wanted to see before I go, my friends. The ones that really made me believe things could change. We met by chance but were held together by our love of nerdy things. What would they say about me now?

Tears stream down my face as I grab the photo, wishing it could save me from this. From what I’m feeling, what I’ve been through, what I’m about to do. I see my smiling face and wonder what I could’ve done to get that back. To feel hope again. I turn the photo over and find my list of reasons to stay alive. 

10.I deserve good things 9.I want to make a difference 8.Heavy rain and hot chocolate 7.What if they invent space travel after I’m gone? 6.Eating cheesecake at 3am  5. Sunny days 4. Looking for shooting stars 3. The neighborhood cats 2. Spite 1.Love

I remember all the jokes my friends made when I wrote down the first two. It’s true though, spite has gotten me so far in life but love feels like healing. It made me appreciate the small, beautiful wonders of the world all of which I’m leaving behind. Can I really leave all of this behind? I close my eyes and list my reasons like a prayer till my voice goes hoarse. 

Maybe waiting one day won’t hurt

The door to the bathroom slams shut. 

Whispers begin to fill the room, creating a cacophony of almost unbearable sound. Dropping the photo to cover my ears does nothing to drown out the voices, all of which are too quiet to hear more than a word or two.

“...protect…” 

“...chosen…”

“...chosen…”

“...chosen…”

“...find them...” 

The bathroom light blows out and I jump splashing water everywhere as a giant reflection appears in front of me. It looks like moving water. I think for a second then go to touch it, my hand completely passing through. 

Holy shit

Yanking my hand back I see my fingers tangled in a necklace with 6 gems, each radiating a different color. Why the hell is this so familiar? Before I can inspect anymore, the room begins to shake and the jewelry falls out of my hand into the tub. I grip the edge of the tub and sweep my legs inwards to catch the necklace and quickly put it on. 

The room goes still. 

What the hell just happened. I touch the center of my chest, smoothing my fingers over the chain. Rising from the tub, prior motives long forgotten, I towel off and find myself lying in my empty bedroom with my phone plugged into the wall.  

Search: Real Infinity Stones MCU

As I scroll through the results, mostly containing plastic versions of the stones for sale and Marvel movie ads, nothing resembles any sort of answer. 

I mean sure I’m off my rocker a little bit right now, but I know I didn’t just imagine that. Infinity Stones!? I’d heard rumors about Hydra being real, maybe even multiple realities – but this? How am I even holding it!?

BANG BANG BANG

The front door startles me and, as I get up to answer, my stomach tightens. Something doesn’t feel right.  As I tiptoe towards the door, the banging becomes louder and louder, until I’m in front of the peephole. No one. Suddenly glass shatters from my bedroom window and footsteps bound towards me. I rush to the kitchen, hoping to find something, but feel a slight pinch on my neck and darkness takes over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room I wake to is nothing like my apartment. Cement walls covered in cracks and dirt and grime, the strong smell of bleach and mold hangs in the air.  Head pounding, I can feel soreness in my arms and legs. My heavy eyes open to see that I’m strapped down to a chair, incapacitated. My shirt has been ripped open and a small tube has been hooked up to my chest, connecting to 3 giant machines placed around me that are filled with a blue liquid. 

“Finally, you’re awake.” 

Behind me, in the far right corner, sat a man in a long tattered white coat with a clipboard in his hands. He watches me through his broken glasses as I struggle against the restraints, careful to not move the tubes. 

“What are you doing to me?” I ask weakly.

“Only saving our asses, now please sit still. I can't get a proper reading on the stones when you move like that,” he replies, crossing the room and opening the door for another man. This one had on all black tactical gear, a gun fastened to his hip, and a black arm patch with a bright red skull and six tentacles. He stays close to the door and crosses his arms. 

“Who the hell are you? You’re not doing shit except keeping me hostage with the Hydra reject over there!”

“Actually, he was a top asset to Hydra in the days before Thanos.” White coat chuckles, “And think of our relationship more as that of Frankenstein and Monster.” 

My eyes go wide with fear. “What the hell are you doing to me!?” 

White Coat stands between two machines and flips a switch, sending me doubling over in pain. Blue liquid from the machines starts seeping through my tube. After a minute, he flips the switch again and begins asking questions,

“How’s the clarity of your mind right now?”

“Could you feel anything happening with the stones?”

“Are you noticing any hardening in your muscles?” 

This guy is insane

I huff leaning up, “Just please tell me what you’re doing to me, I don’t know why I have the stones or how to use them. If you want them so bad why haven’t you taken them?” 

“Trust me darling, we tried,” White Coat says, pointing to my chest. I look down in horror noticing a faint, oval shaped scar around the necklace. “Those stones don’t want to be taken.” 

Did they fucking cut me open? I’ll kill him I swear…wait-

“Why is it healed so much, I just got here?” 

“The stones healed you, of course. Can’t have their protector getting hurt, now can they?” He sounded bitter.

I raise an eyebrow and he steps around the machines with a small metal chair and clipboard and sits in front of me.

“This last test really messed with your memory, huh? The stones chose you as their protector.” 

It hit me like a train. The voices. Most were too quiet to even hear but I know they said this. They must have been trying to tell me, or warn me. But what does “find them” mean? Find who? There’s no way it’s these guys.  

“Chose me? Why would they have chosen me?”

Tactical Gear turns to me. “Trust me, sweetheart, we’ve been trying to figure that out too.”

“Oh and…you’ve been here a while my dear, about 6 months now?”

“6 months tomorrow, Doc.” Tactical Gear sports a grin as he speaks.

“W-why can’t I remember? Have I been asleep?”

Tactical Gear snickers, “You wish, sweetheart, we’ve spent a lot of quality time together. And your memory? That’s all Doc.”

“It’s truly the kindest thing we could do for you, this work doesn’t happen without some… side effects” 

Side effects!? “What kind of side effect warrants memory loss? What’s going on here!?” 

“Jesus Christ, Doc just tell them, it’s no fun fucking with them when they’re like this.” 

“I wanted to give them time, but … alright,” White Coat lets out a breath. “I assume you aren’t aware of the multiverse, yes?” 

“Like in Marvel movies?” 

He sighs, “This is much more complicated than that but yes, and similar to the movies, Thanos is also very real and very much on his way for those stones. He destroyed Hydra looking for them many years ago, and I have no doubt he senses their presence now.”

“My theory is that, combined with my version of the super soldier serum, the stones will react to your new strength and be our ticket out of here. You’ve been quite stubborn these past few months and have refused to willingly participate in my work so this,” he gestures to the restraints, “is our last resort.”

"You're seriously making me...what, like a super soldier? Like Captain America? I could literally die!" 

“ Do not worry my dear, you will be my greatest creation! You are going to lead Hydra into a new age across the timelines.”

“The only thing I’m going to lead is my foot up your ass, now let me go!”

White Coat only shakes his head before getting up and walking back around the machines. He looks as if he is going to mess with the machines again but decides against it, instead walking towards the door. 

“Take them back to their room, we’ll pick up tomorrow.” 

Tactical Gear pushes off the wall and unties my arm restraints. “Now don’t get feisty, wouldn’t wanna have to hurt you.” 

He smiles. 

Dick.

Feeling comes back to my legs as he takes the straps off and lifts me up bridal style out of the room. He walks down a long blue lit hallway, avoiding the stripped wires hanging from the ceiling. If I had the strength in my legs I’d run, but… where would I even go? I don’t know where I am or how far I am from civilization. The room I’m taken to is bland to say the least. Four more cracked cement walls, a chair, and a bed that Tactical Gear throws me unceremoniously on. He turns and walks out, locking the door behind him.

A sob escapes my mouth as I turn over and clutch my legs to my chest. None of this should have happened. I know what I should’ve done, and now I'm here. I pay no attention to the necklace as I run my fingers over the scar – it’s healed but will most likely never go away. A familiar feeling begins to rise. 

After everything I’ve been through, THIS is where I end up? These stones saved my life and now I’m stuck with fucking Dr. Jekyll and Hyde? No.Fucking.Way. I’m getting out of here even if it’s the last thing I do. 

This is how most nights go now. Wake up, a breakfast of toast and expired fruit, and then continuous torture. Like cattle being raised for slaughter, only I’d be the one doing the slaughtering eventually. I can feel what the serum is doing to me, I’ve bulked up to the point Tactical Gear has a hand on his gun whenever I’m in the room. It would be an ego boost if it wasn’t so damn terrifying, especially since the man looks like he’s itching to pull the trigger!

 It’s been 3 weeks and I haven’t even thought of using the stones. My captors are less than thrilled, but I know Marvel like the back of my hand and, if they think super soldier serum will trigger these stones, yeah right. I just need to buy enough time to figure out where I am and how to leave. They haven’t said anything about it, but I know that’s what comes next. Brainwashing. It’s the only way they’ll ever get me to use the stones for them. 

I can hear footsteps through the thick concrete as Tactical Gear approaches, a new perk of the serum. He opens the door and gestures to walk out, hand readily on his gun. I slip past him and make my way to the room — there aren’t any exit doors in the hallway so he lets me by. I learned that my first week. I take a seat and allow him to strap my arms and legs to the chair. He begins inserting the tube and I reflexively wince as he purposefully pushes it too hard. 

“I’m hoping this test will be our final and all 3 of us can continue my work somewhere else,” White Coat says, not looking up from his clipboard. 

“Wait- you mean this is it? What if it doesn’t work.” My heart races as I think of the consequences of not using these stones.

“ Well, you’ll finally be done with the serum today, so training should be next.”

Sure. “Training”. I knew it. 

Looking down again, I feel a wave of nausea come over me. I had to get out of here and fast. Should I use the stones? Are they even in my control? I close my eyes and begin pleading with them.

Please, please, take away my tube and get me out of here! 

I wait a moment before opening my eyes and seeing everything still as it was.

“Get ready, dear, try to concentrate on a portal out of here!” 

And away from you

As he begins flipping switches again, the blue liquid crawls back towards me, and I can’t help but continue to plead with the stones as pain shoots through me. 

Please get me out of here

Please get me out of here

Please get me out of here

Swoosh

A bright light blinds me as the left wall collapses in on itself and is replaced by a smokey blue portal. White coat cheers and begins fiddling with the machines again while Tactical Gear steps over to me and starts untying me from the chair. After unraveling all the restraints, he roughly yanks me up from my chair and pulls the tube from my side. I cringe, expecting pain but as I look where the tube is I already see a scar forming on my side. Another new perk of the serum I’m sure. 

 He turns back around to grab a duffle bag hidden from behind a machine and I know this is the only chance I’ll get to escape. I leap over two giant bundles of wires to get out of his reach and dive towards the portal. 

“Stop them!”

I can’t tell who’s yelling but it’s the least of my worries as I pass through the portal and crash onto cement. Scrambling up I turn to see White Coat and Tactical Gear bounding towards me. Running through what I now see is an alley, I turn the corner onto the sidewalk and immediately crash into someone.

“Oh my god, please you have to help! These guys are cha-”

My eyes look up to meet large white lenses with black rims sewn into a red and blue suit, an all too familiar sight. 

“Woah woah it’s okay! I’m Spider-man, I can help!”

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

||Shattered pride||

Hi there. I just had another idea but this one was also in my head for a while. But it involves the terror of the skies and her second hand. Yes, I'm speaking of Shrika and Willie. Lets see what this one is about hmm?

||Drabble Summary||

After the harsh punishment for days on in, Willie was tending to his mistress's injuries. He was worried about her since she didn't seem like herself due to being upset or scared. Now, he was tending to her to his best ability. Will he be able to help her? Read to find out.

||Guests in Drabble||

Matt, Sid, Shrika, Dale, and Rick belong to my best friend and rp partner @lovelyxhorrors who also runs @demon-blood-youths

Willie Watt is From and belongs to the animated serious Batman Beyond. He also belongs to me due to having him as a muse.

((Just a heads up: Grammar is not good and their will be heavy mistakes but this was written for fun so please enjoy. ))

Willie was silent as the night was passing by as normal, seeing the stars above the world was soothing to the killer. Well, it would be it he was not deeply worried about his mistress. He already knew both Dale and Rick was keeping guard at the door to insure no one disturbed her as she was 'understanding her punishment' but they were nervous not wanting to anger her than she was.

Even now, the terror of the skies was a silent little bird. Watching Willie treating her even if she could do it herself, he did it. He knew some of the injuries like the rope burns were seen still but they will heal in a matter of days he hopes. Though, he saw Shrika remain silent, not speaking a single word.

But can he blame her? He was nervous himself remembering what she went through and by her leader Matt. He was there that one night where he even forced Shrika to gravel into the ground while making sure she said sorry to Ink and her fraction for the mess she made. Even if she was crying in front of them, she did what she was told.

She even said sorry to Batman and the snake! He still remembers that night even if it was a few days ago...

~~~~~~~

"Come on Shrika, what do you say? Your the one that caused this so you need to fix it!" Matt was angry keeping her down or making both Dale and Rick keep her down. Her face was in the dirt while Ink and the other members were stunned seeing Matt so angry-no they never seen him this mad before.

"Say it!" he said with arms crossed.

"*Sobs* I..I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the m..mess I made in Gotham and t..to the dark night. I'm sorry for the mess involving the HYDE pills and s..selling them. I'm sorry....." she cries even if she winces being forced down more.

"You mean it right? Your not lying are you?" Matt said.

"N..No! No, I'm not! I'm s..sorry really! I..I will be sure to h..help with cleaning the mess I've m..made s...so please..please forgive m..me.." she cries but Ink said nothing with Batman being speechless seeing someone so deadly to a crying broken mess. Yeah, Matt was scary.

"Matt, you don't have to make her-"

"Oh no no no. I have to. She's the one that caused this mess, so I'm going to ensure she's the one that cleans it up. So you guys don't have to worry about it. I'll make sure of that alright..they will be both punished for this I'm sure..." Matt smiled to Ink that scared her team but they said nothing knowing Shrika was fucked. Even for her, she was shaking know that was too true.

~~~~~~

"You know Shrika, your lucky. Your very very Lucky I didn't make your punishment ten times worse. I could make your life a living hell and make sure you don't ever do this again.." His arms were crossed seeing a scared Shrika sitting on her knees as she was tied down tight from the rope burns once more.

"......"

"You made such a big mess that everyone was asking me if I caused it when it was all you. I always told you what I would do if anyone caused trouble for us. You even owe the others since we had to help with cleaning your own shit of a mess. You know that right?"

"..Y...Yes.."

"Well, I hope you do. Because of that, your punished for two weeks but I'm also taking your little dog to train. You'll get him back when I'm done with him. You better hope he don't die before then." he said.

"W..what?! B..but Matt I-!?" she tenses seeing his red eyes glowing more that she begins shaking crying.

"I'm sorry what did you say? Are you taking back to me?" he said that she looks down shaking.

".....N..No no! I..I wasn't-..."

"Were you?!" He said raising his voice but she shook her head no quickly not looking to his eyes. It was scary enough to see him angry but never this angry. She knew she fucked up but seeing Matt that angry really scared her that it made her pale.

"..I thought so. I don't like when someone breaks or tries to make it unfair for the others. From this, I say you deserve that loss for embarrassing me, our team, and for ruining everyone's day. Now, You'll be starting your two week punishment and I'll be taking Willie with me. You'll get him back when I'm done with him." He said. "Understand?"

"...Y...Yes, Matt. I understand.."

"...Good.." He looks away from her to start walking but stops. "Oh, and I hope you learned your lesson from this. If you ever try anything like this again..." He slowly turns his head back to her showing one red eye to glare at her with a cold murder expression that scared her.

"You won't like me when I'm ready to fuck you up.." He said to turn and leave her alone, slamming the door that she was sitting alone shaking scared. Tears running down her cheeks not able to move for a while.

~~~~~~~~~

Which resulted in her two week punishment and Willie being taken from her till Matt gives him back for good behavior. He still felt the healed injuries he got from Matt even from the harsh beatings the leader did. Yeah, he should be lucky Matt didn't kill him. However, he looks seeing Shrika still remain silent as he was finishing up with treating the small wounds on her fingers.

In a moment, he was done to turn and set the bandages down to the table. "..Alright, that's done mistress. Do you want something to eat now?" he asked but Shrika said nothing looking quiet. She did shake her head slowly that Willie sighed.

"You have to eat. This is the third time you refused to eat. I know...a..after what happened you didn't want anyone to be around you but it's not healthy for you to not eat." He shows the plate of food for her to eat. "So...I only ask if you at least try to eat something........please." He said.

It did take a bit to try getting her to eat at least something. Most times she would ignore it and leave it there. In a moment, Willie sighed to see she didn't respond again to look and started to help her move. He tried not to over do it since she's still recovering from her punishment by Matt and the others. He really was letting this punishment stick and make Shrika think of her actions.

He gets her to the couch to see the outside from the window while keeping her safe and watched over. Over time, she did see the bruises and injuries Matt left on Willie but he ignores them. He was more focused on helping her instead of himself. She saw him walking over to set some blankets down near her and another pillow for her back. Even if he got beaten and punished by Matt, he would still be here to help her.

"There. If you wish, Mistress. Do you want me to leave so you can have some time to your-"

"....No." He blinks to hear her speak but Shrika looks to her lap while being covered by the blanket around her. "...I.....you stay. I..don't feel okay being by myself right now..." she mutters looking to her bandaged fingers. They still stung but Willie understood.

"Of course Mistress."

He didn't move but he looks to take a seat in a chair but was near in case she needed something. Now the two sat in silence together only to look at the window. He wonders if Shrika was okay during their punishment. It was scary for them both. Even if Willie endured the punishment of his own. For that time, they remain quiet till she breaks the silence.

"....Willie.."

"Yes?"

"Are you.." she hesitates which was making the other quiet. "Angry due to you being punished with me?" he heard her say but Willie never seen her like this unless she was nervous of Matt being mad for something she did.

"..No, of course not mistress. I'm not angry because of that." he said but Shrika sighed to look down. Her fingers sting to see him come over but gently saw. "Besides, why would I be angry? I always did say I'm yours for life since you saved me from being locked in prison for ever. So I feel it's fair that I repay you to aid you in anything I can." He looks to carefully take her hands in his to use his telekinetic power to try soothing the stinging from her fingers.

"........I'm unsure why your not? You got in trouble due to following my orders and trying to kill that snake and bat. But you still would help me no matter the cost." she sees him let her hands go carefully when he helps with the stinging.

"I Don't care if I did. I know Matt was furious as you and me for what we did..but that didn't stop me from following your order. Even helping with leading your pack like you told me to. I just..." He looks to her. "I wanna be sure to be of service to you Mistress.."

Shrika said nothing but she saw him even get on his knees in front of her. "What are you-" Right there, she saw him bow to her but she was not expecting him to do that.

"Hey, you don't have to do that. I get it. And I told you before right? Your my partner and not some lapdop. Your treated fair even if you tend to call me your mistress." Shrika sees Willie look up to her but he only sighed standing to sit.

"I know..but I did say I wanna be here to help and aid you with any task you give me. That's what a good partner does...right?" he knew that but he still would do what she asked of him. Even if he was being punished. He carries out her orders as requested. Shrika looks to him but they remain quiet in the room to think.

"......Even after all that your still loyal to me. Through and through....as a partner would be." She asees him nod to agree with her. He would do whatever she asked, whatever task she gave him, or order to pass and given. He'll follow it. At least he was loyal so that tells she made the right choice in saving him from the detention center. In a moment, she looks to Willie.

"...Can you pass me the plate? Now I'm hungry." she asked to see him nod, going to reach for the food and hands it to her.

"Here you go. Are you able to hold the plate?" he said to seeing her nod. As long as she was careful, she'll be fine. Now she was eating the food with Willie being here in case she needed something. Even after all that, Willie still wanted to be by her side. He accepted that and he knew she did too.

"After you eat, you wish to take a nap Mistress?" he asked.

".....That works and you don't have to always call me mistress you know." she said.

"I know..but it's showing respect towards you. However, be sure you eat Mistress.." he said to get some sparkling water for her to drink with the food. Shrika said nothing but looks to her plate and begins to eat. At least she's getting food in her so that's good. Later, he was still on the couch but seeing Shrika sleeping with her head resting on his lap since she's sleeping on the side.

He didn't disturb or wake her but he only remains quiet. Even through the punishments; Willie was always going to be her loyal partner.

[alessiahealthblog]

Heal-n-Soothe: A Natural Joint Pain Treatment

Heal-n-Soothe offers joint pain 🥲sufferers hope. This new arthritis pill uses potent natural components to relieve pain without side effects. Heal-n-Soothe supports joint health, mobility, and inflammation with enzymes, herbs, and nutrients. Its unique combination targets the fundamental causes of joint pain, restoring mobility and quality of life. Heal-n-Soothe, a natural option, may help arthritis sufferers without jeopardizing their health. Watch this video to discover how Heal-n-Soothe, a natural solution for joint pain, can offer hope and relief to those suffering from arthritis👇👇

[digitalagencyidea]

Heal N Soothe: A Big Deal for Natural Pain Relief?

Heal N Soothe revolutionized natural pain management. This pill offers a viable alternative to standard pain management with its strong component mix. Heal N Soothe uses nature to treat pain🥲 and inflammation holistically. Its synergistic blend of natural enzymes, herbs, and extracts targets pain at its source and promotes healing without the side effects😯 of pharmaceutical medications. After using Heal N Soothe, many people report great pain reduction and overall well-being. Heal N Soothe is changing natural pain management with its efficacy and safety. Watch this video to find out how this amazing solution can help you ease the pain of arthritis 👇

[ultracbdgummybu]

Ultra CBD Gummies: Reviews, 2023 Result, Offers, Buy Now!

➤Product Name - Ultra CBD Gummies

➤Category - Health

➤Side effects – NA

➤Sale price - Best price

➤Product Availability - Available in Stock

➤Rating -⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

➤Official Website - [SALE IS LIVE] Hurry up to get your best deal "Ultra CBD Gummies" for 1st user limited-time offer!

Ultra CBD Gummies are a special sort of CBD item that joins the advantages of the two oils. They join the helpful impacts of Ultra CBD Gummies with the scrumptious flavors and surfaces you love, settling on them an incredible decision for anybody searching for a simple method for getting their everyday portion of CBD.

Each twin component sticky contains 10 milligrams of cannabinoids per piece, so they give a moderate measure of help (and flavor) without taking various pills or drops over the course of the day. Ultra CBD Gummies Additionally, on the grounds that each joint is pre-bundled in one single serving size, it's a lot simpler to hit your everyday dose objective than it is with different sorts of CBD items.

They're delightful and advantageous options in contrast to conventional types of enhancements like cases or colors, which can be difficult to accept entire orpour into food. Ultra CBD Gummies Twin component chewy candies likewise offer all the medical advantages that come from taking cannabidiol (CBD), including diminishing uneasiness levels and decreasing aggravation.

✅ Visit The Official Website To Get Your Bottle Now✅

✅Visit The Official Website To Get More Discount Now✅

✅Visit The Official Website To Get 50% Off Now✅

There are multiple ways of removing Ultra CBD Gummies from the plant. One well known technique is by means of extraction with CO2. Ultra CBD Gummies This includes utilizing carbon dioxide to break up the cannabinoids from the plant material and afterward dissolvable free extraction to acquire great Ultra CBD Gummies removes.

Other than extricating unadulterated Ultra CBD Gummies separates, many organizations likewise offer containers and colors produced using entire plant or full-range items. Out of such items, these Ultra CBD Gummies give each of the gainful mixtures found in the first plant source, for example, terpenes and other dynamic cannabinoids.

Regular Fixings utilized in Ultra CBD Gummies! On the off chance that you're searching for a flavorful and sound method for taking Ultra CBD Gummies are an extraordinary choice. Made with regular fixings like hemp, sunflower seed oil, and gelatin, these chewy candies give a mix of Ultra CBD Gummies and natural balms that give the advantages of the two mixtures. CBD in these Ultra CBD Gummies assists with lessening irritation, ease torment, and further develop mind-sets.

The medicinal balms in Ultra CBD Gummies help to battle uneasiness, misery, and different circumstances. In this way, whether you're searching for a scrumptious and solid method for enhancing your CBD system, or are searching for an across the board answer for your medical conditions, Ultra CBD Gummies are an extraordinary decision.

Ultra CBD Gummies, or cannabidiol, is a phytocannabinoid compound tracked down in marijuana and hemp. It has been displayed to have numerous medical advantages, including lessening irritation and agony, further developing nervousness and temperament conditions, assisting with rest issues, and decreasing seizures.

Buy Link==> https://ultracbdgummies.us/

Jimdo Site==> https://ultracbdgummies-us.jimdosite.com/

Blogspot==> https://healthwebmagazine.blogspot.com/2023/03/UltraCBDGummies.html

Google Site==> https://sites.google.com/view/ultracbdgummies-review/

Read more:

http://www.ketoacvgummies.us/

[folexinreview2023]

Folexin Review 2023

Folexin Review 2023

What’s Folexin?

Folexin helps the natural hair regrowth process, moving with the telogen (resting) period into the anagen (growth) phase without gaining stuck in the middle. It’s supposed to boost flowing hair health, help the epidermis glow (in some non-sweaty way) and additionally bring a lovely sheen to your hair (in a nongreasy way). Folexin Review 2023

5 Benefits Of Folexin

Folexin supplements job to promote thick, formidable and healthy frizzy hair - for males and females. Here’s how they assistance:

Kickstart your normal hair growth cycle in addition to keep that locks growing even when you’ve finished your give. Bring natural ingredients for your noggin - instead of harmful substances along with bad side effects, such as Minoxidil. Protect because of environmental damage (chlorine, UV rays, traffic fumes) - to keep ones own immune system, and your skin/hair/nails, in optimal situation no matter what the world flings at them! Allows you to glow from within just out, with gentle skin, shiny head of hair and a happier have fun! Rest assured, there’s CERTAINLY NO scary subscription or even recurring billing unit (like Keranique). That creates me like them way more!

Folexin Items

Folexin is made in america alone, at an FDA-approved facility that ensues GMP guidelines. The outcome? A powerful little tablet that contains plenty of supplements, minerals and organically grown extracts - several are domestic, many others are imported.

The important ingredients are: Biotin

Also known as Vitamin B7 or Vitamin L, biotin’s in lots of face, hair and nail bed treatments. Why? ‘Cos this nutrient works together specific enzymes within you to promote healthy protein age group (and as a result, mane production).

If you’re deficient in biotin, you might notice waterless or brittle frizzy hair and nails, or simply have patchy dried out areas on your epidermis. Folexin supplements may also help those areas, overly!

They also foster a normal metabolism and restless system PLUS digestive system and cardiovascular performance. Biotin is water-soluble too, meaning it’s easy to digest. Fantastic to know. Saw Palmetto

This popular locks care ingredient works with the hormonal aspects at play around hair growth. As that Healthline article makes clear, it helps block (5α-R), an enzyme this converts testosterone in to a hormone called DHT (which is associated with hair loss). Nutrient B5, B6 & Folic Acid

Other B vitamins have fun with an important role, much too. But Vitamin B5 in particular (also identified as pantothenic acid) is really an essential nutrient utilised in the process of making health proteins. It’s known for their soothing, healing along with regenerating properties.

Shout-out to Vitamin B9 - also known as folic acid - that helps your body generate red blood panels and absorb some of those essential nutrients in the food. In the process, folic acid needless to say supports hair follicles (and hair growth) inside both men and women.

And not missing a pill Vitamin B6, of which activates the any chemical reactions involved in the manufacturing of keratin together with melanin and is top-dog for healthy head of hair and skin.

My partner and i don’t care the way in which great the A-Team was. For me, it’s all about Team N! Fo-Ti

A lesser-known ingredient, this brought in element has a tremendous amount to offer. It’s recently been used in China for years and years to support general health and additionally anti-aging - and to support the all-natural hair growth process.

Methods to Use Folexin

It’s simple: just take several pills a day, by using food. (So an individual bottle of 61 capsules will last one month. )

Note: Any time you’re on other medication, and if a medical expert has said it’s ok to take Folexin supplements, make sure you result in one hour between doses. Because some Folexin ingredients might slow up the effect of several medicines. And everyone don’t want of which to happen.

Folexin is a revolutionary formula that can help you get rid of the hair loss problem. Hair loss is affecting millions of people throughout the globe and targeting their confidence level a big time. Hair loss as it sounds like makes you look older, even when you are not.

If it’s my Folexin results I should be the one giving you a brief introduction about myself. My name is Keith and like most men, I was fed up with receding hairline and feared male pattern baldness. As soon as I started searching for valid treatment my colleagues told me about the Folexin formula which is the main reason why I started searching for the root cause of alopecia or hair loss. Click Here to Buy Folexin

Hair loss is of different types, Male Pattern hair loss is the most commonly occurring form of hair loss in men. In science, it is referred to as Androgenetic Alopecia, which has targeted so many adults all over the world. The treatment for Hair Loss is what we are going to tell you about, but first understanding the basic things are mandatory for an individual.