#Heal N Soothe Pills

[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

[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 form

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

[kingofbodyrolls]

Coming Home (m) | PJM | Part two

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Summary: 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: 18,5K

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings: Mention of past abuse and sexual assault (r*pe), attempted sexual assault, trauma, stalking, fighting, trust issues, insecurities, slightly thriller vibes, angst, fluff, explicit smut (multiple scenes), kissing, cuddling, unprotected sex (stay safe - OC’s on the pill), penetrative sex, oral sex (both), masturbation (female), mention of masturbation (male), breast play, blowjob, fingering, slice of lice, healing after trauma (including therapy sessions), guns, BIG feelings, protective Jimin, previous character death (a parent), Jimin being soft and loving, self defense, humor, degrading words (whore and bitch).

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

In the weeks that followed the 'princess' incident, you and Jimin had grown even closer, your friendship strengthening with each passing day. 

The heart-to-heart conversation you had after that fateful day had cleared the air between you, allowing you both to navigate through the awkwardness and vulnerability.

The two of you settled into a comfortable routine. 

While Jimin worked, you continued to explore the vast realm of entertainment on his laptop. You immersed yourself in the mesmerizing world of YouTube, delving into weird videos, heartwarming stories, and everything in between. 

The laptop became your portal to countless adventures, making the days fly by in a blur of laughter and enjoyment.

You found solace in the familiar comfort of TV shows and movies, their captivating narratives providing an escape from the haunting memories that occasionally resurfaced. 

Music became your constant companion, filling the room with melodies that both soothed and uplifted your soul.

But Jimin was more than just a provider of entertainment; he was also your guide to the outside world. 

The first time he took you out, you were a little hesitant, unsure of what to expect after being confined to the safety of his home. But Jimin's reassuring presence and infectious enthusiasm quickly put you at ease.

Watching a movie together in the theater felt like an adventure, as you savored every moment of shared laughter and excitement. 

It was a simple outing, but it held a deeper significance for you, a reminder that life could still be filled with joy and new experiences.

The walk in the park was a breath of fresh air, quite literally. The sun kissed your cheeks, and the gentle breeze whispered soothing melodies in your ears. 

With Jimin by your side, the world felt less daunting, and the shadows of the past seemed to retreat further into the corners of your mind.

With each passing day, you found yourself falling deeper into the warmth of Jimin's friendship. 

The unrequited feelings you had once harbored began to transform into something different, something more profound and meaningful. But you held back, still afraid to jeopardize the beautiful connection you had with him. 

Despite the fear, you couldn't help but wonder if Jimin felt the same way. There were moments, fleeting glances and gentle touches, that seemed to hint at a deeper affection. 

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, your friendship with Jimin continued to flourish. 

You cherished the time spent together, the laughter, the shared moments of vulnerability, and the unspoken understanding that bound you.

The days with Jimin had become a delightful blend of warmth and confusion, with each passing moment blurring the lines between friendship and something more. It felt like a cozy domesticity that tugged at your heartstrings, making you ache with repressed feelings you could no longer ignore. 

Jimin's kind and gentle nature had captured your heart again, and you found yourself falling deeper into your love for him. 

You and Jimin were inseparable now, doing almost everything together. The more time you spent with him, the harder it became to suppress your ever-growing crush. 

You wondered how he could be so wonderfully caring and affectionate, making your heart skip a beat with every sweet gesture. You couldn't help but love him for all that he was.

But as your feelings transitioned from 'like' to 'love,' you found yourself grappling with uncertainty. 

Did he feel the same way? Or were his acts of kindness merely expressions of friendship? 

You desperately sought clues in his actions, hoping for a sign that his feelings went beyond what you saw on the surface.

The small acts of love he showered on you only added to the confusion. 

The way he prepared food for you, touched your cheek with a lingering touch, and embraced you in warm hugs left your heart racing. 

Those moments were tender and intimate, blurring the boundaries between friendship and something deeper. You sometimes caught him lingering, lost in thought, while cooking. The food would burn, a rare sight for the perfectionist that he was. 

It was amusing and endearing, and it made your heart flutter to think that you might be the reason behind his occasional absent-mindedness.

But you were afraid to act on your feelings without clear confirmation from him. The fear of jeopardizing the precious friendship you shared kept you from making the first move. 

You longed for him to express his feelings, to give you a sign that he felt the same way. 

Yet, deep down, you knew that might never happen. 

And so, you found solace in the friendzone, creating odd displays of affection in an attempt to bridge the gap between friendship and romance. 

The nights where he spooned you until you fell asleep, because your anxiety kept you up, left your mind in a whirlwind of emotions. 

With his dick pressed up against your ass, making it entirely difficult to sleep. Yet, you cherished those intimate moments, secretly hoping they held more meaning than mere friendship.

Deciding to take a leap of faith and seek some answers, you grab your phone and shoot a message to Jimin's friend, Hoseok. 

The cheerful and beaming man had shared his number with you a while back, eager to keep in touch and check on your well-being. 

With a mix of excitement and nerves, you compose a convincing message, hoping to meet up with him for coffee.

You [10.07 am]: Hi Hobi! Do you have time to grab a cup of coffee soon? 😀

Hoseok [10.10 am]: Hi Y/N! I have time right now, I’m off shift. We can meet at the coffee place downtown in 10 😉

You [10.12 am]: Great! See you in 10 🙂

Rushing to gather your things, you throw your phone, keys, and a few essentials into your bag. In your haste, you slip into your favorite pair of sneakers and grab your trusty jacket before locking the door behind you. 

Your heart flutters with anticipation as you jog downtown, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your breath quickening.

Arriving at the coffee shop, you peer through the windows to spot Hoseok already seated at a table with two cups of coffee. 

The sight of him brings a mix of comfort and excitement. 

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, your spent legs urging you forward. With each step, you feel a blend of nervousness and eagerness. 

Finally, you push open the door and step inside, feeling the warmth of the coffee shop envelop you. You approach Hoseok's table, trying to suppress the flutter of butterflies in your stomach. He greets you with a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with genuine friendliness. 

As you take a seat across from the off-duty paramedic, you can't help but wonder if he senses the turmoil brewing inside you.

“Thank you for meeting me,” you say, still out of breath, a smile gracing your lips as you wrap your fingers around the warm coffee cup, relishing its comforting heat. 

Taking a sip, you let out a soft sigh of contentment. “Thanks for this,” you add with gratitude.

Hoseok chuckles, mirroring your actions as he sips his own coffee. “You're welcome,” he replies, his voice carrying a friendly warmth.

“What's on your mind?” he goes straight to the point, his curiosity evident in the sparkle of his eyes. You let out a small laugh, feeling a flutter of nervousness about discussing your feelings. Yet, you decide to be honest and straightforward, not beating around the bush.

“I think I have feelings for Jimin,” you state, your voice tinged with insecurity as you glance down at your coffee cup, almost afraid to meet Hoseok's gaze.

His response catches you off guard, as he bursts into genuine laughter, the sound infectious. You look up, dumbfounded, and ask, “How do you know?” genuinely curious about his insight.

“It's easy to put two and two together,” Hoseok explains, his laughter still bubbling beneath his words. He seems thoroughly amused by the revelation.

“Do you think, or do you know?” he inquires, his tone turning serious.

“I know,” you reply with certainty, admitting that you've been harboring these feelings for Jimin for quite some time.

“I’m afraid to say anything to him. I’m not sure he feels the same…” you begin to fidget with your cup, circling it around in your hands.

This only seems to intensify Hoseok's laughter, and he has to hold his stomach, the mirth almost overwhelming him. You cross your arms in displeasure, pouting at his reaction.

“He 100% likes you, Y/N,” Hoseok assures, struggling to compose himself as he tries to convey the sincerity of his statement.

“Nah, you're shitting me” you retort, still not fully believing what you're hearing, crossing your arms tighter almost unconsciously.

Hoseok continues to chuckle, his gaze unwavering as he looks directly at your face. 

“Damn, you must really be blind, girl” he says playfully, amused by your baffled expression.

As Hoseok's words sink in, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions floods your mind. 

Does Jimin really like you? 

You find yourself replaying all the moments you've spent with him, analyzing each affectionate gesture and word. Frustration mixes with hope as you try to make sense of it all, and before you know it, a snort of laughter escapes your lips, surprising even yourself. 

Hoseok joins in, his laughter never having ceased, and you both share a lighthearted moment amidst the weight of your revelation. 

The coffee shop becomes a sanctuary for sharing stories and experiences. 

You find comfort in talking to Hoseok, someone who knows Jimin well, and you discuss your lives and the challenges of your respective careers. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you discover a newfound camaraderie with Hoseok. 

As he shares tales of their paramedic work and the occasional antics at the hospital, you can't help but laugh at some of the more absurd incidents they've encountered.

As the minutes turn into hours, you realize that this impromptu meeting with Hoseok has provided you with much-needed clarity and a sense of reassurance. 

You now feel more confident in confronting your feelings for Jimin, ready to address any uncertainties that may have been holding you back.

As you stroll leisurely back home, you can't help but feel a mischievous grin spread across your lips. 

The knowledge that Jimin may have feelings for you ignites a playful spark within you. You decide to indulge in a little teasing and see how he reacts.

You begin preparing the ingredients for the vegetarian lasagna, humming a cheerful tune to yourself. The thought of Jimin's possible feelings adds an extra spring to your step.

As the lasagna starts to bake in the oven, you decide to set the stage for a playful evening. You change into a cute, slightly flirty outfit that showcases your best features. 

With a knowing smile, you glance at yourself in the mirror, feeling confident and ready for whatever the night may bring.

When Jimin returns home, he's greeted by the inviting scent of Italian food. 

As he approaches, you're busy cleaning up, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness in his presence. The sound of his footsteps grows closer, and before you know it, his arms wrap around you from behind. 

He eyes your outfit, a flowy dress that barely covers your ass and  shows off your cleavage. You were going to be the death of him.

His warm embrace envelops you, and you can't help but lean into his touch, relishing the feeling of his strong arms around you. 

He nuzzles his face against your ear, and you can feel his warm breath tickling your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His familiar vanilla scent mixed with the subtle aroma of coffee fills your senses, making your heart skip a beat.

“It smells good, what are you making?” he murmurs, his voice soft and soothing, like a warm caress to your soul.

You turn around to face him, your heart fluttering in your chest at the sight of his affectionate gaze. “Vegetarian lasagna,” you reply, trying to steady your voice, which feels shaky in his presence.

He smiles, and the look in his eyes intensifies with admiration. 

“You never cease to amaze me,” he says, his voice a gentle whisper that only adds to the intimacy of the moment as his eyes linger a moment too long on your cleavage.

As Jimin diligently cleans the dishes, you find yourself lost in the pleasant afterglow of the dinner, relishing the warmth and comfort of your shared space. The soft sound of running water and clinking dishes forms a soothing background to your thoughts. You can't help but smile to yourself, feeling a newfound sense of closeness with Jimin. 

“Thanks for making dinner,” he says with a grateful smile, reaching over to gently nudge your shoulder.

“Of course” you reply, your heart warming at his appreciation. 

“I actually enjoyed cooking tonight. Maybe I should do it more often?” you add playfully, secretly hoping for more opportunities to share moments like these with him.

Jimin's eyes light up with excitement. “I'd love that” he says sincerely, and you notice the way his gaze lingers on you, as if he can't get enough of simply being in your presence.

As you follow Jimin into the living room, you can't help but admire the way the soft glow of the lamps casts a warm ambiance, creating a cozy atmosphere that feels like home. 

He settles on the couch, patting the empty space beside him, inviting you to join him. You happily oblige, sinking into the comfort of the cushions, feeling a sense of ease wash over you as you snuggle up close to him.

Jimin scrolls through the movie options on his phone, and you can't help but sneak glances at him, admiring the way his eyes crinkle in concentration. It's moments like these that make your heart swell with affection, cherishing every bit of time you get to spend together.

As the movie starts, you both settle into a comfortable silence, the sound of the movie filling the room. Jimin's warmth envelops you, and you find yourself leaning closer to him, feeling his steady heartbeat against your side. 

It's occasions like these when you realize just how much you enjoy his company—how effortlessly you fit together, as if you were made to be side by side.

A yawn escapes Jimin, and you can't help but smile at his adorable drowsiness. 

“Long day?” you ask softly, running your fingers through his hair, thinking he’ll probably fall asleep on the couch again.

“Yeah, but I want to spend time with you even though I’m tired” he replies with a sleepy grin, making your heart flutter.

“I can give you a massage,” you blurt out, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can second-guess yourself. 

You hope he'll agree, not only to soothe his tired body but also to find a way to be close to him. Jimin's eyes flicker with surprise, and you could have sworn you caught a hint of a blush before it disappeared. 

His reaction makes you internally giddy, but you do your best to keep your composure. 

“You don't have to,” he mumbles, and you can sense his embarrassment. But you shake your head, determined to offer him this small act of care and affection.

“I know it will help you relax. Now give me your feet,” you say, your voice gentle yet firm. You want him to understand that you genuinely want to do this for him.

Jimin's heart races wildly as you take his foot into your hands. 

He can't believe he agreed to this massage, not when he knows how much of a risk it is for his self-control. 

Your touch is gentle yet firm, and he feels a shiver run down his spine as your fingers glide smoothly over his skin.

He watches you closely, trying to gauge your reaction, but you seem focused on your task. As you start rubbing long strides along his foot, Jimin can't help but tense up under your touch.

It feels oddly intimate, and he tries to suppress the gasp that threatens to escape his lips. But when a small moan slips past his defenses, he can't hide the pleasure your massage is giving him. 

He quickly bites down on his bottom lip, trying to muffle any further sounds of delight. 

He doesn't want you to know the effect you're having on him, afraid that it might make things awkward between you.

You continue with the massage, and Jimin's mind races with conflicting emotions. 

On one hand, he wants you to stop because he's not sure he can handle the sensations you're stirring in him. On the other hand, he never wants this moment to end, cherishing the closeness you're sharing.

Jimin's mind races with a mix of pleasure and panic as your hands work their magic on his feet. But as the sensations intensify, he can't help but find his thoughts wandering to a more intimate territory. 

He tries to suppress the images forming in his mind, attempting to think about mundane things, work, and anything else that might distract him from the pleasure he feels. 

But it's no use. 

Your touch is too gentle, too tantalizing, and his body betrays him with a twitch between his legs. 

He bites down on his bottom lip, hoping you won't notice the internal struggle he's facing.

You focus on the task at hand, trying to provide him with some relief and relaxation. 

Jimin, on the other hand, is struggling to keep his composure. 

The pleasurable sensations shooting up his body are too much to handle, and he can't shake the dirty images forming in his mind. 

He knows he shouldn't be thinking about such things, especially not when you're just trying to be a good friend. But your gentle touch and the closeness between you are making it increasingly difficult for him to control his desires.

As you continue to massage Jimin's foot, your attention remains solely focused on providing him comfort and relaxation. 

Your innocent demeanor doesn't give away any hint of the effect your touch is having on him. Jimin's heart races as he watches you, trying desperately to hide his growing desire.

He clears his throat nervously, hoping to distract you from what's happening to him. 

Swiftly, he grabs a throw blanket and a pillow, creating a makeshift barrier to conceal his body's response. 

He drapes the blanket over his stomach and thighs, attempting to hide the evidence of his arousal. The pillow on his lap serves as an extra layer of protection, shielding his growing embarrassment from your view. 

You don't seem to notice his actions, engrossed in your task, still completely oblivious to the effect you're having on him. Jimin can't help but admire your innocence and pure intentions. He knows that you're just being caring and kind, and he doesn't want to ruin the moment by making things awkward.

“Is it good?” you look up at him, smiling like a kid on christmas morning. 

How the fuck don’t you know what you are doing to him? 

He manages to nod his head while he tries to suppress the moans threatening to leave his lips. 

The ten minutes you massage his right foot seem to stretch into eternity and he doesn't know if he should feel relief when you shove the foot away only to grab his left one. 

You give that foot the same attention as the first. 

When you deem it enough, you shove his foot away and give him a pleased smile. 

As you finish massaging his left foot, he feels a mix of relief and disappointment. Relief that the intense sensations have finally come to an end, but disappointment because a part of him secretly wished it would continue. 

He tries to hide his conflicting emotions behind a small smile, unsure if you can see through his facade.

“Thanks for the massage,” he says, trying to sound casual as he readjusts the blanket on his lap. 

“You're really good at it” maybe he can finally excuse himself to the bathroom. But the reprieve he seeks is interrupted when you tell him to turn around and face his back to you. 

He looks at you flabbergasted, while he does his best to hide his shock and embarrassment, “What?”

“I want to massage your back. You have been sitting at your desk a lot today, no? You slouch more than usual” you point towards his shoulders with a loving smile.

He blushes and feels his chest tighten at your thoughtfulness. 

He nods, because you are right; he had spent all day at his desk doing paperwork. 

Getting his back, shoulders and neck massaged would ease up all the knots, so he decides to turn around, almost choking on a groan. 

He feels your hands on his back and wonders if he should take his shirt off. “Keep it on” you say with a light chuckle as you press your fingers softly into his back. He lets out a nervous chortle as you seem to read his mind. 

You grab and press at his back muscles, kneading him like bread. 

It feels so good he has to bite his lip again, to muffle the noises threatening to escape his traitorous mouth. 

When you get to his shoulders, you curl your hands under his shirt to have better access. You feel many knots under his shoulder blades and knead away. Then you place your delicate fingers on his neck and he feels his dick twitch again. 

He is really trying so hard to not get aroused, but you are making it so damn hard for him. A loud moan escapes his lips and he immediately puts his hand up to cover his mouth. 

“Are you okay?” you try to lift yourself from your sitting position behind him to look at his face, but you can’t really see him from this angle. 

He nods frantically, not trusting his mouth to not betray him again. You keep massaging him some more until you feel you have worked out every single knot in his sore muscles. 

“All done,” you say while you make a loud yawn, stretching your hands over your head.

Jimin clears his throat and gives you a light ‘thank you’ while he stands up with his back to you. 

“I just have to use the bathroom. I’ll be back real quick,” he excuses himself and walks away in a hurry. 

He hisses at the sight between his legs when he gets into the bathroom. His erected cock is mocking him, as he was unable to control his desire for you. 

Hopefully, you didn’t notice anything weird. But now he had to take care of his predicament before you thought the time he spent in the bathroom was too long. 

The exhaustion finally catches up with you, and your body surrenders to the overwhelming tiredness. Your eyes flutter closed, and you sink deeper into the soft embrace of the couch. The TV's flickering light becomes a mere blur as sleep starts to claim you.

Jimin emerges from the bathroom with shame filling his body. 

He can’t believe he had to jerk himself off to lewd images of you, to get his dick to calm down.

You would probably be grossed out, if you knew what he had done. 

You are his best friend, what is wrong with him? 

When he reaches the couch he finds you sleeping peacefully letting out small delicate breaths. 

He smiles to himself as the shame from earlier is replaced with yearning and affection. He walks to your sleeping form and reaches down to grab you in his arms, then walks to your bedroom and puts you down, covering you with your duvet and a kiss on your forehead.

As the days turn into months, the bond between you and Jimin only grows stronger, entwining your lives in a beautiful dance of friendship and sexual frustration.

Laughter echoes through the halls of his home, filling the space with joy and warmth.

Yet, beneath the surface, there's an undercurrent of emotions that both of you are afraid to address. The unspoken feelings between you tangle and twist, a delicate web of desire, uncertainty, and affection. 

Jimin yearns to tell you how he feels, but fear of rejection holds him back. And you, in turn, have your own insecurities, unsure if risking your friendship is worth the chance of something more.

But despite the unspoken, the love in the air is palpable. 

Others can see it, feel it in the way you look at each other, in the way you unconsciously gravitate towards one another, and in the warmth that radiates when you share the same space.

As the days stretched into weeks, and months, you found yourself growing more at ease in Jimin's home. 

The initial fear of overstaying your welcome began to dissipate as he made you feel like a cherished guest, not an intrusion. Still, a tiny part of you couldn't shake the thought of getting a place of your own, but the fear of the unknown lingered like a shadow. 

The unsolved mystery of the perpetrator added to your unease. The thought of being alone in a new place made your heart race, and you found solace in the familiarity and safety of Jimin's home. 

He never pressed you to leave, instead offering his reassurance that you were welcome to stay for as long as you needed.

In the dimly lit office of your psychologist, Chin-Sun, you take a deep breath, your hands slightly trembling in your lap. 

The soft hum of the air conditioning seems to echo your nervousness, but you're determined to open up about something that has been weighing heavily on your heart - Jimin.

Chin-Sun sits across from you, her warm gaze encouraging you to speak your mind. The past few months had been a journey of self-discovery, thanks to her guidance. 

You had made significant progress, delving into past traumas and fears, but this was different. This was about your feelings for Jimin, a subject you had kept hidden, even from Chin-Sun.

“I...I've been feeling something for my best friend, Jimin,” you start hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It's more than just friendship, and it's been growing bigger with time.”

She leans forward, her eyes attentive and compassionate. “Tell me more about these feelings, Y/N” she encourages, her soothing tone offering you a safe space to unload your emotions.

You take a deep breath, trying to articulate the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you, “It's like... I care about him so much, more than I can put into words. I find myself drawn to him in ways I can't explain. When we're together, it's like the world fades away, and there's just this connection between us, this unspoken understanding.”

As you speak, the knots in your chest begin to loosen, and you continue to pour out your heart to Chin-Sun. 

You recount the moments spent with Jimin - the laughter, the stolen glances, and the way his touch makes your heart flutter. The uncertainty of his feelings for you gnaws at you, but you're grateful for the bond you share.

“I just don't know if he feels the same way,” you confess, vulnerability lacing your words. 

“Hoseok said he does, but... I don't want to misinterpret anything. What if it ruins our friendship?”

Chin-Sun's gentle smile reassures you. 

“It's natural to fear the unknown, Y/N. But remember, expressing your feelings doesn't have to be an all-or-nothing situation. You've built a strong foundation of friendship with Jimin, and he cares about you deeply.” 

She hands you a tissue as tears well up in your eyes, “Talking to him about your feelings might open up a new chapter in your relationship. It's okay to take that risk, as long as you're true to yourself.”

You nod, taking in her advice, “I just wish I could be sure of his feelings before I say anything.”

She smiles warmly, “Sometimes, we have to trust our hearts and take that leap of faith. If you don't share your feelings, you might always wonder 'what if?' You deserve to know where this connection could lead.”

You let out an airy exhale, feeling the lump in your throat grow with every word you speak, “But... I'm afraid to confess, because I'm damaged and broken. I... I can't give him what he deserves.” 

The vulnerability in your words hangs in the air, and you see empathy reflected in Chin-Sun's eyes, "Y/N, none of us are perfect. We all carry our scars, our past experiences. It doesn't make you any less deserving of love or happiness.”

“But what if he sees my flaws and decides he doesn't want someone like me romantically?” you ask, your voice cracking with emotion. “I don't want to burden him with my baggage” you say in a definitive voice, trying to keep your feelings at bay.

Chin-Sun leans forward, her gaze unwavering. “You deserve love and care, just like anyone else. And the right person will see you for who you are and embrace every part of you.”

You let out a sigh, the tear that had escaped now followed by others. “I'm afraid of losing him, Chin-Sun. He means so much to me, and I don't want to risk our friendship.”

“It's understandable to feel that way,” she responds softly. “But remember, holding onto your feelings might also come with regrets. You have the right to express yourself, to be honest about what's in your heart.”

As Chin-Sun offers her wisdom, you feel a sense of reassurance wash over you. Maybe it's finally time to confront your fears, to take that leap and open your heart to Jimin.

“Confessing is scary, but it's also liberating,” she adds, her voice gentle yet firm. “No matter the outcome, you will have been true to yourself, and that is a gift you can give yourself.”

You take a deep breath, finding courage in her words. “Thank you, Chin-Sun,” you say, a glimmer of hope in your eyes. “I think... I'm ready to take that leap.”

“Also, you said that you couldn’t give him what he deserves. What exactly do you feel he deserves, that you can’t give him?” 

The soft glow of the therapy room gives you a sense of comfort, but the question is anything but. You fidget with your hands, trying to find the right words to express the inner turmoil you've been grappling with.

You swallow hard and run a hand through your hair, your voice is meek and your eyes dart back to your feet, “I think he deserves to get sex.” 

At your revelation, you feel your eyes tear up again as you had been holding that thought to yourself for so long. You feel vulnerable and exposed, as you wait for her to give you her insight.

She gives you a comforting look, “Y/N, sex is not supposed to be something that you just ‘give’ to the other person, like some sort of transaction. I know that this subject is gray for you, with your trauma. I know it makes it harder. But sex with the right person, and when you want to, might I add, can feel so beautiful and transcendent,” she says with a soft smile and hope lingering in her voice.

You nod and you know that intimacy is a subject that is hard for you. 

But when you think about your attraction for Jimin, you also feel a raw, carnal sexual pull, and you don’t know how to act on these feelings. As frustration fills your body, you blurt, “I want to have sex with him, but I’m afraid.” 

You huff out a frustrated sigh, well now you let the cat out of the bag didn’t ya? 

Chin-Sun looks at you with eyes as big as saucers and she lets out a slight chuckle. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. I didn’t mean to be insensitive. It’s just. Talk to him first, and take things one step at a time,” she says reassuringly.

“And if the time comes, there’s also many other ways to be intimate, than sex” she adds with a hopeful smile.

As you leave the therapy session, determination fills your heart. 

You've decided to face your fears and confess your feelings to Jimin, knowing that whatever the outcome, it's a step toward embracing your true feelings.

As you lay in your bed, the rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, you can't help but let your mind wander to thoughts of Jimin. 

Memories of the times you've spent together flood your thoughts, and you find yourself replaying the moments when he was there for you, offering comfort and support. The sound of his laughter echoes in your mind as you recall the funny moments you shared. 

You remember the warmth of his touch, how his hand would rest on your shoulder or how he'd give you a reassuring hug when you needed it the most.

As you ponder his actions and gestures, you can't shake the feeling that there's something more to his kindness. 

The way he looks at you sometimes, the small smiles that seem to linger a little longer when you're around, they all make your heart skip a beat. 

Your thoughts drift to the countless times he's made you feel safe and at ease. He's become your anchor. He's seen you at your most vulnerable, yet he's never turned away or judged you. Instead, he's offered nothing but compassion and love.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you realize just how much your feelings for Jimin have grown deeper than you ever expected. 

You’re afraid to admit it to yourself even, but deep down, you know that you’ve fallen for him, hard. 

The thought of him makes your cheeks blush and your heart flutter with excitement. Your mind drifts to his incredible physique; thick thighs that you’re sure is heaven to sit on, to his plum lips, so damn inviting and kissable. 

Fuck. 

His muscular legs, and you wonder if he is as physically fit as he was in college. 

Shit, you think back to the day you massaged his back and now you’re imagining what he must look like underneath his shirt. 

Oh, these are dangerous thoughts. 

Frustration settles in your body as you register something wet between your thighs. Your hips roll upwards, searching for any kind of friction. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! 

His pink plush lips, bitten and swollen, kissing you hungrily. His tongue asks permission to enter your mouth, as he rolls his clothed erection against your core. 

You feel the arousal building so damn fast, you can’t keep up. 

You tilt your head back, hitting the wall as you let out a frustrated sigh. 

The room suddenly feels twice as hot as it did before and you are desperate to cool down. In a hurried motion, you lift your hips and pull down both your leggings and pink lace panties. 

Finally feeling like the temperature is bearable, you open your legs with your pussy on full display. Hissing and panting, your right hand crawls down between your thighs and when you eventually reach your clit, you moan deliriously.

The office is dimly lit as Jimin sits at his desk, his head resting heavily on his hand. The weight of the day’s failures seems to press down on him, and he can’t shake off the frustration that’s been building up inside him. 

Despite his best efforts, the perpetrator responsible for your trauma still eludes them, and it gnaws at him like an incessant itch he can’t scratch. 

He glances at the clock on the wall, the hands ticking away relentlessly, reminding him of the precious time slipping through his fingers. With a sigh, he decides to call it a day, realizing that his throbbing headache is not going to subside anytime soon. 

As he drives home, the streets pass in a blur of city lights and distant chatter. His mind is still fixated on the case, on the need to protect you, to bring peace to your life. 

He wishes he could erase the fear that’s been lurking in the back of your mind ever since the abduction. 

He turns off the car and unlocks the door to his house with both a tired mind and body. 

Normally his police department got results so damn fast, it seems unbelievable, so he can’t for the life of him, understand why they haven’t solved your case yet. 

Dissatisfied, he walks inside and throws his bag next to the counter in the kitchen, when he all of a sudden hears some strangled moans. 

Piqued and alert, he walks further into the house, searching for the location of the sounds. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” he almost yells and his nervousness for your safety only grows stronger as you don’t answer. 

Expertly, he makes his way to your bedroom door, and for a second he contemplates if he should draw his gun, but decides against it. 

For a moment, he stands against the door, listening for the sounds, wondering if you are in distress. 

Forcefully, he grabs the handle and bursts into the room with too much momentum and when his eyes land on your half naked body, he halts in his tracks. 

You. 

Sitting there with your head thrown back against the wall, your slender fingers fiercely rubbing on your clit. 

His eyes widen in shock, and when your eyes meet his, his brain short circuits. 

He can feel his heartbeat all the way in his ears, and he is sure that his face must be completely red as his eyes still linger. 

You don’t seem to stop, too caught up in your own arousal to care. 

“Fuck! I’m so sorry!” he moves a hand to cover his curious eyes, but he can still hear you working your fingers on your clit as squelching sounds fill his ears and blood goes straight south to his dick. 

Why the fuck are you still touching yourself, he wonders. 

He can feel his dick twitch in his pants, but begins to walk backwards, “Sorry, I’ll leave you to it.” 

As you dart your eyes up and see him leaving, panic overtakes you, and you stop your ministrations, “Stop!”

Jimin freezes and removes the hand covering his face, locking eyes with you, seeing the disheveled look on your face and blown-out pupils. 

He notices his own ragged breathing as his body stiffen. 

“Don’t go.” 

You plead with a pout and moan, your hand stretched out for him. 

“Stay.” 

The word feels heavy and dangerous but it ignites a flame inside Jimin, as he moves closer to you. 

You spread your legs further apart, inviting him in, “Watch.”

Jimin can’t take his eyes off you. 

Dammit, he knows this is wrong, but you asked him to stay, and he would do anything for you.

He nears your bed with his half erect dick, sits down, watching you with hooded eyes as you rub circles on your clit. 

With the man of your desire finally before you, and between your legs nonetheless, you feel the pit in your stomach build. You feel the tell-tale sign of your impending orgasm, as Jimin’s mere presence is multiplying your arousal. 

Jimin watches you in awe, as you work your clit, thrusting your hips up into the air in search of more friction. 

Your lewd noises are making his dick throb with need, wanting attention. He wants to grab his dick, stroke it and masturbate with you, but you told him to watch, so he tries to keep his attention on only you.

“Mmmh, Jiminie,” you moan, and it sends chills down his spine, hearing you call his name like that. 

Fuck. 

He locks eyes with yours, filled with so much bliss, trying to figure out what you want.

“Touch me.” 

You say, letting a drawn out moan escape your mouth as pleasure builds in you.

Jimin doesn’t hesitate, you don’t have to tell him twice. 

He surges forward in a crawl and hovers over your sitting position on the bed. 

He kneels before you, unsure what exactly you want him to do. He doesn’t want to impose his own desires on you. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, as he hovers dangerously close to your panting lips. 

You let out a desperate ‘please’ and he leaps forward, placing his plush lips against your own, capturing you in a delicate and passionate kiss. The kiss speaks mountains, as you are sure you can feel his adoration for you in it. He’s careful not to push you, setting the pace slow, and giving you room to take control. 

When he breaks the kiss in search of air, you hurriedly find his lavish lips again, this time hungry for more. You feel needy, grinding up into his thick thighs. 

You break the kiss then, quivering, with a fucked out expression on your face, “Jimin, I need you.” 

He looks at you, aroused, “Where?”

“Between my legs. I want your fucking lips on my pussy,” you say in the midst of bucking your hips against him. He parts his lips, and his tongue darts out to lick against his swollen pillowy lips. 

A hand runs through his black hair, while he nibs at his lower lip and breaths out through his nose. 

Fuck. 

This is risky, he thinks. 

But he nods all the same, wanting to give you everything you ask for. 

He crouches down, laying flat on his stomach on the bed in between your soaked thighs, looking at your glistening and juicy folds.

“Are you sure?” he peeks up from your center as he licks his lips in anticipation like he's about to devour a delicious meal.

You nod in lustfulness, “Fuck, yes I’m sure.”

In one fluid motion, he latches his mouth to your clit, licking long stripes from the top and all the way down your slit. It feels divine, and elicits a deep guttural moan from you, while you instinctively try to close your thighs in gratification. 

He labs at your clit like a man starved. 

You feel his saliva drip down your cunt, mixing with your arousal, and down to the sheets. 

Fuck, Jimin is skilled with his tongue, and you begin to feel an orgasm approach again. 

It feels like too much, it’s been years since you had an orgasm. 

You feel utter delirious as you take a look down your body and between your legs. The sight is sinful, his dark locks of hair, damp with seat, eyes looking at you, as slurping noises fills the room as he eats you out. 

The sight alone is enough to unravel you further.

Jimin gets carried away in your sweet noises, he wants to give you all the things you want in the world. Damn, he wants to give you so much pleasure.

“Do you want me to finger you?” he asks, as he takes a momentary break from sucking your folds.

You shake your head, out of breath as you say, “No, I’m not ready for that yet.” 

“Just your tongue is enough,” you blush and then Jimin goes back to lapping at your clit. His tongue is warm and he moves it expertly against your folds. Up and down, alternating between light licks and hard sucks. 

You feel his plush lips against your clenching hole, and for a minute, you contemplate his offer to finger you, but you are afraid of penetration, so you focus on the immense pleasure he is giving you with only his devilishly long tongue.

You feel a knot forming in the lower part of your stomach. “I-,I-, Jimin, I think I’m going to come,” you say with ragged breathing, as you press your body against his mouth.

Jimin hums on your clit, sucking harshly. You moan desperately, chasing your high. 

Your spent legs start trembling, your lower body lifting slightly off the bed, as you moan Jimin’s name, as you come on his expert mouth. 

Your finger searches, grips and curls on the sheets in a frantic attempt at grounding yourself, your toes curling. Jimin helps you ride out your high by sucking and licking lightly at your clit. 

When you feel like it’s too much, you find your hands in his hair, pushing him off you softly. 

“It’s too much,” you say, as you feel your clit pulsating and dripping with a mixture of your arousal and his saliva.

Jimin thinks that was fucking hot; you are so intoxicating. 

He sits up on his knees, looking you over with an affectionate spark in his eyes, as his dick twitches in search of relief. As he licks his lips, tasting your sweetness, he sees a frustrated look wash over you as if you’re battling with something in your mind.

“What’s wrong?” he says curiously, but with a hint of worry to his voice as he searches your eyes for answers.

Your heart races as you blurt out those three powerful words, the burden of your emotions finally escaping your chest, “I love you, Jimin.” 

The vulnerability in your voice makes the moment feel raw and authentic, and you can’t help but let a tear slip down your cheek. 

You sit up, determined to lay it all on the line, to share the depth of your feelings with Jimin.

“I can’t contain it any longer,” you confess, baring your heart open for him to see, hoping that he feels the same way. 

You feel oddly naked, with your bottom half exposed, and him fully clothed. 

The room seems to hold its breath as you wait for his response, the silence hanging in the air like a fragile thread. 

Say something, anything, you think frantically.

Jimin reaches out, tenderly brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes filled with affection and adoration. 

“I love you too,” he whispers, his voice warm like a comforting embrace. 

The words wash over you like a gentle wave, and a radiant smile breaks across your face. His touch is tender as he cups your cheek, and you lean into it, relishing the sensation of his warm skin against yours. 

The tear on your cheek glistens like a crystal, a testament of the depth of emotions you’ve been holding back for so long. 

But now, with your heart laid bare, you feel a newfound strength, a profound connection with the person who means the world to you.

In that instant, all the walls that kept your feelings guarded crumble, leaving only the sweet revelation that your best friend shares your deep affection. The world fades away as he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels like an epiphany. It’s a deep and passionate kiss, like the universe aligns and the stars sparkle in celebration of your love. 

Your heart flutters with each brush of his lips, as if it's dancing to a melody only the two of you can hear.

As the kiss lingers, you lose yourself in the sweet taste of yourself on his lips, the feel of his touch, and the sound of his heartbeat mingling with yours. 

It’s a moment of pure, unfiltered lust, that ignites a new fire inside. 

When Jimin gazes into your eyes, you swear you see a reflection of your own feelings mirrored in his soul. 

It’s a love that’s been simmering just beneath the surface, finally ready to be embraced and cherished. His smile, so soft and sincere, fills you with a sense of belonging, like finding the missing piece to your puzzle.

In that space, time has no meaning, and you’re content to stay lost in the embrace of his love. 

All the doubts and fears that once held you back are swept away by the current of affection that now flows between you. 

As you pull away, you lock eyes, and a newfound understanding passes between you. This love isn’t just a confession of feelings; it’s a promise of a future where you’ll navigate life together, hand in hand, supporting and cherishing each other every step of the way.

Then you feel the bulge in Jimin’s pants, and you break the kiss, grabbing his cock softly over his dress pants. 

He hisses at the contact, stopping your hand with his, “This is about you.”

As he swats your hand away, he goes back to kissing you tenderly, “Not that I don’t want too,” he adds in between kisses. 

“But it must be uncomfortable?” you ask, pleading with your eyes. 

You really just want to suck his dick so desperately. 

“I don’t care. I care about you right now,” he says, making his way to your neck, sucking hard until he has left a red mark there, that he gently licks.

“I can’t get enough of you, Y/N,” he says, his voice low and filled with desire.

You meet his gaze, feeling a rush of emotions surge through you. 

“Do you know how long I’ve had feelings for you?” he asks, a hint of playfulness in his eyes, as he tries hard to ignore his growing erection.

Curiosity piques your interest, and you shake your head, eager to hear his confession. Your heart flutters with anticipation, knowing that his word will be something you’ve been longing to hear.

“Since fucking high school,” he admits with a chuckle, and you can’t help but laugh along with him. It seems your previous desires have been forgotten, as you both lay down on the bed next to each other. 

His revelation surprises you, yet it also fills your heart with warmth. High school seems like ages ago, but somehow, your feelings for each other have endured all these years.

“Ah, me too,” you reply, grinning from ear to ear. The realization that you’ve both harbored feelings for each other for so long is both endearing and amusing.

You both share a moment of laughter finding joy in the irony of your secret love story. 

The way you’ve managed to keep your feelings hidden for each other, all while staying close friends, feels like something out of a romantic comedy.

“I can’t believe we wasted all that time,” you say with a playful pout as your hand travels over his clothed pectorals. 

He leans over, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Well, we’re making up for it now, aren’t we?”

A giggle escapes your lips as you lean into his touch, savoring the warmth of his body against yours. It’s surreal to finally be in his arms like this, to know that the person you’ve loved for so long loves you back just as fiercely.

“I can’t get enough of you either, Jimin,” you admit, your heart swelling with love and happiness. “It feels like I’ve been waiting for this moment forever.”

He nuzzles his nose against yours, a soft smile on his lips, “Me too. But you know what they say, better late than never.” As you intertwine your fingers with his, a sense of completeness washes over you.

As you sit together on the park bench, the warmth of Jimin's hand in yours is a constant reminder of the love and support he offers you. The sunlight filters through the leaves above, casting a gentle glow on both of you.

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to express your feelings. 

“You know… I’ve never really had a normal relationship before,” you admit, your voice tinged with vulnerability. 

Jimin’s gaze softens, and he leans in close, letting you know that he’s all ears. “That’s alright,” he says, his voice soothing like a gentle breeze. 

“We don’t have to follow anyone else’s idea of normal. We’ll create our own version of it, together.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, grateful for his understanding and unwavering support. “You always know what you say,” you say with a hint of admiration in your voice.

He chuckles softly, his fingers lightly tracing circles on the back of your hand. “Well, it’s easy when it comes to you,” he replies, his eyes never leaving yours. “We’ll figure it out step by step, and I promise you, we’ll make it beautiful.”

Your heart swells with affection, and you lean your head against his shoulder, finding comfort in his presence. With Jimin by your side, everything feels a little less daunting and a lot more hopeful.

“I’m just afraid of messing things up,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tilts your chin up gently so you’re looking directly into his eyes. “We all make mistakes, but that doesn’t define our relationship,” he says firmly. 

“What matters is that we learn and grow together. And no matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you.”

A tear glistens in your eye, touched by his unwavering commitment to you. “I love you, Jimin” you say, the words carrying the weight of your emotions.

His face lights up with joy, and he cups your cheeks in his hands, brushing his thumb against your skin. “I love you too, Y/N” he replies, his voice filled with sincerity.

As the days pass, life with Jimin becomes a beautiful rhythm of love and laughter. 

You both find joy in the simplest of things, cherishing every moment you spend together. One sunny afternoon, you decide to visit a summer festival, filled with carnival rides and games. 

Hand in hand, you explore the vibrant fairgrounds, laughing as you take turns trying to win a unicorn plushie at one of the games. Your cheer Jimin on as he focuses intensely, his determination evident in his expression. 

To your delight, he emerges victorious, holding the soft, colorful unicorn in his firm hands.

“Omg! You did it!” you exclaim, jumping excitedly up and down while your laughter rings through the air.

Jimin grins, looking proud of his achievement. “It’s for you,” he says, handing you the plushie. “A token of my love and a reminder of this fun day.”

Your heart flutters with affection as you take the unicorn, hugging it close to your chest. “Thank you, Jimin. I’ll cherish it forever” you reply, a genuine smile on your face.

As the sun begins to set, you enjoy some cotton candy, your laughter blending with the cheerful chatter around you. For a moment, everything feels perfect and carefree, and you forget about any worries or fears. 

However, amidst the sea of people, you catch sight of a hooded figure in the distance. 

Panic surges through you, but when you search again, they seem to have vanished. 

“Jimin, did you see that?” you ask, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the concern in your voice.

He glances around, his eyes sweeping the crowd. 

“See what, babe?” he replies, his tone light and carefree. 

The pet name isn’t lost on you, but you are too caught up in your fear, to actually let it register.

Unsure whether it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you or not, you decide to push the thoughts aside, not wanting to let anything spoil the magical night.

“It’s probably nothing,” you say with a reassuring smile, focusing your eyes back on Jimin. “Let’s just focus on having fun tonight.” 

Jimin grins and pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. “You’re right,” he says, his voice filled with determination. “Nothing can spoil our night.”

And so, you continue your adventure, letting go of any lingering worries and embracing the joy of the present moment. 

Together, you explore every nook and cranny of the festival, trying every ride, and even indulging in more delicious treats. As the night draws to a close, you find yourselves sitting under a starlit sky, leaning against each other. 

The sound of laughter and music fills the air, but all you can hear is the rhythm of your hearts beating as one. He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, tender kiss. In that moment, the world stands still, and it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s love.

When you finally come home, the sexual frustration is so palpable you could cut the tension with a knife. 

Jimin kisses you hungrily while he tries to open the door, pressing you up against the door instead. 

You feel his tongue poke at your lower lip and you open your mouth to welcome the addition. 

The door opens and you fumble inside, landing on your ass because of the force he used to ungracefully open the door. You let out a pained shriek followed by an endearing laugh. 

Jimin is quick to tend to you, asking if you are alright, but you can see the smirk lacing his features, his eyes crinkling at the corner. 

He helps you stand up and doesn’t wait a second to latch his mouth to your neck, forcing you up the wall. 

Your hands search for his cheeks and travel to his hair, pulling and tousling it eagerly. 

He moans into your neck and you feel a wet patch soak your panties, as you grind your hips into his.

“Fuck,” he says, panting with need as he looks into your hooded eyes. 

You feel his half erected dick on your lower stomach, as he rolls his body into yours. You find his mouth and explore his soft cave, as he tries to walk you both towards his bedroom.

“Couch is closer,” you huff out and Jimin pushes your bodies in that direction purposefully. 

When you reach the couch, he nudges you down on it and you lay sprawled out before him, taking his carnal expression in. He hovers over you, tracing lines down your clothed body on your sides, “I want this off,” he gestures to your sundress. 

You feel goosebumps prickle your skin at his touch, a moan escaping your lips as you let him gather the fabric of your dress up your body. 

You feel incredibly hot, laid bare for him in just your underwear, thanking yourself for wearing a matching lace set. Jimin sucks in a breath and lets out a frustrating growl, as he takes your beautiful, soft and delicate features in. 

“Damn, you are beautiful” he grunts and proceeds to hike his shirt off in a fluid motion.

Your tongue darts out, licking at your lips as you salivate by the look of his firm pectorals and muscled abdomen. Your eyes fly down his toned abs and land on his prominent v-line and the bulge in his pants. 

“I want you, Jimin,” you hiss as you grab his clothed dick and elicit a soft moan out of him. 

Before he lays you down again, he unhooks your bra. 

Arousal rushes through your body, making your blood boil. 

He kisses your mouth tenderly, while his hands trace down from your jaw to your boobs. He gives your nipples a soft pinch with his fingers, as you moan and buck your hips up into his groin. 

In soft and tender moves, he massages your breast while alternating between fondling them and playing with your nipples. A new flood of arousal leaves you and your panties sticks uncomfortably to your drenched pussy. 

In search of friction, your hands travel down your body, under your panties and you rub your fingers on your clit, opening your thighs to better accommodate Jimin. 

You see his eyes darken and he hisses when he sees you touching yourself. 

He lets go of peppering kisses against your jaw and cheeks, moving his mouth down your neck, to your collarbone and landing on your supple breast again. Giving each nipple a gentle suck, he moves further down, resting between your thighs where your fingers are working your clit. 

He hums in appreciation, and then grabs your hand, letting it rest on your hips as he pulls your panties down and throws them off somewhere in the living room. 

He growls at the sight of your soaked and glistening pussy, ready to be devoured. 

For a moment, you lock eyes, and you feel showered with love and adoration, it almost feels unbearable. You buck your hips up playfully, giving him a teasing look as you spread your thighs invitingly for him to enter. 

With his soft hands, he massages the underside of your thighs, before he gives your pussy the attention you seek. 

“Jiiiiiminie,” you gasp in delirious frustration as he keeps massaging your thighs. 

It’s nice, don’t get it wrong, but it isn’t what you need. 

He chuckles at your desperate attempt, but gives in. He strokes his fingers teasingly over your clit and folds, before he opens your folds to reveal your throbbing hole. 

Then he latches his pillowy lips to your clit and you make a delicious moan as you grab his hair.

He gets to work, sucks and licks hungrily against your pussy and you writhe under him. The absurdly lewd noises from him and your pussy are turning you incredibly on and making a juicy arousal leak out that he laps on his tongue. 

The knot in your stomach is forming with incredible speed, but you feel like you are missing something. 

“Fingers,” you pant out as you give his hair a tug. Jimin seems to understand, and a finger roams your folds, right next to your throbbing hole, where you want him the most. 

You hiss in anticipation, trying to press your pussy down on him. Then, slowly, he enters his index finger and you throw your head back into the couch in bliss. 

It glides in easily but feels tight with just the one finger, how the fuck will you be able to take his cock, you think. 

He experimentally fucks his finger into your clenching hole, while making sure you like it. When you move your body to meet his thrusts and your excessive moans fill the room, he adds a second finger. 

The stretch is so damn tight, and he works his fingers in scissoring motions to get you ready as he licks at your clit. 

He hits your g-spot repeatedly and you feel it approaching fast, the knot in your stomach snapping and your body tense, as you climax. Your body convolves, your feet curling and you let out a delirious groan. 

“I’m so sorry!” you pant as you excuse your lack of announcing your impending orgasm. Jimin assures you, as he helps you ride out your high with his fingers still in you. 

Sitting up, you are suddenly aware that Jimin is still fully clothed, with his erection pushing at the fabric of his pants. 

You move to pull down his pants and underwear with his help. 

His dick springs free, fully erect and in desperate need of attention. 

His dick is beautiful; average length, thick girth with a throbbing red head. He lets out a frustrated moan, and you grab his cock with your slender fingers as you give it a stroke. 

He leans back into the couch, with his hands behind his back for support as he throws his head back. Gathering a good amount of saliva in your mouth, you spit on his dick, making Jimin twitch slightly in surprise. 

Giving a few experimental strokes, before you stick out your tongue and lick up a strip from his base to the tip, you watch him close his eyes in pleasure. 

He shudders, as you lick at his cock, like it was a lollipop, even giving his tip a suck with a ‘pop’. 

He already knows he isn’t going to last long, if you keep this up. 

Then you take half of his cock in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. He moans as your warm mouth envelops him, and he tries to control his need for friction by not fucking into your mouth. 

He wants you to set the pace. 

Growing bolder, you deepthroat him, feeling your gag reflex, but doing your best to ignore it and focusing on hollowing your cheeks and breathing through your nose. 

The sounds filling the room are obscene, and as you keep sucking him, he finds purchase with his hand in your hair, gathering it in a makeshift ponytail.

It feels so incredibly good, it’s almost too much for Jimin, and he gently taps your flushed cheeks, “If you want to have sex, you seriously have to stop that, babe,” he pants, as he looks at you with love. 

“If you keep going, I’m going to come,” he says out of breath as he gently pushes you off his dick. 

You lick your lips and let him nudge you down on the couch again, anticipation and need filling your body. He aligns his dick with your throbbing hole, and rubs his tip on your wet and slick folds. 

You moan at the contact, feeling slightly nervous as he prods at your entrance.

Jimin senses your nervousness as he halts, “It’s okay, babe. We can stop anytime you want.” 

You take in a deep breath and nod, trying to brace yourself for impact. He is slow and gentle, as he gradually enters you, stretching you with his tip and you tense up. 

You feel your heartbeat in your ears, like a loud and deafening ringing and it’s too much. 

Your breath quickens and you feel like you're having a panic attack, “Jimin-, stop,” you breathe out fast.

In an instant, he pulls his tip out and caresses your cheek as tears flow from your eyes. You lean into his touch, crying slowly, mad at yourself. 

“What’s wrong?” he wipes at your tears, looking at you fondly, but you try to hide your face with your palms. 

You let out a frustrated groan as you try to even out your breathing. 

“I’m just so mad!” you huff uncontrollably, still sobbing in frustration. 

He grabs your hands, removing the shield from your face, “Why?”

You look at him endearingly, he is just the sweetest, you think. “I can’t even do this simple fucking thing,” you almost yell, as you point between your legs in frustration, noticing his dick becoming softer with every moment. Ugh, you have totally ruined the moment. 

Fuck. 

“I’m so sorry, Jimin. I really fucking want to… I just,” you sit up, hugging his naked body, seeking comfort. 

“These horrible images keep flashing in my mind,” you gulp, hugging him tighter. 

You feel his steady heartbeat against your breast, and it calms you down. 

“I kept thinking about how he just used me,” you begin to hulk, recalling the trauma. 

You feel a mix of emotions, remorse, frustration, anger and love all at once. You’re mad at yourself, because you want Jimin so damn much, but it’s like your body isn’t ready. 

The abuse it went through still lingers. 

Jimin comforts you, wrapping you close to him, and even though you are both naked, his now flaccid dick against your core, it isn't weird at all. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. You shouldn’t push yourself. You’re ready when you are ready” he says comfortingly, kissing you tenderly. You will forever be thankful for a man like Park Jimin.

You look down at your naked bodies, “Maybe we should put on some clothes and just… watch a movie?”

Jimin agrees and he finds your discarded clothes on the floor. As the movie begins, you still feel frustrated and mad at yourself, “I’m so sorry, Jimin” you quip, barely audible over the movie. 

He looks at you lovingly, “It’s okay. You shouldn’t be sorry. I’m sorry for what you went through and how it affects you,” he strokes your cheek. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch. 

“We’ll take it slow and you decide the pace, okay?” he gives you an endearing smile as he finds one of your hands and gives it a soft squeeze.

With your heart brimming with happiness, you grab your phone the next day to share the wonderful news with your parents. 

As you dial their number, excitement bubbles up inside you, and you can’t wait to see their reaction.

“Hey mom, hey day,” you say as they pick up the call, having put you on speaker.

“Hello, sweetheart! How are you?” you mom asks with a warm tone. 

“I’m doing great, actually. I have some exciting news to share,” you reply, trying to contain your enthusiasm.

“Tell us! Don’t keep us waiting” you dad adds, his voice filled with curiosity. 

Taking a deep breath, you can’t help but smile, as you spill the beans, “I’m officially dating Jimin now.”

Silence follows your announcement, and for a moment, you worry about their reaction. But then, your mom lets out a loud cheer, “It’s about goddamn time!”

You burst into laughter at her exclamation, relieved and delighted that they are happy for you. “I know, right? We’ve been friends for so long, and it just feels so right now,” you explain.

“Ah, we always knew there was something special between you two,” your dad says warmly.

“We couldn’t be happier for you, sweetheart,” your mom adds.

You can feel their love and support across the phone, and it warms your heart. “Thanks mom, dad. I’m really happy too,” you say sincerely.

“We want to celebrate! Why don’t you and Jimin come over for dinner on Friday?” your mom suggests eagerly.

“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll talk to Jimin, but I’m sure he’ll be up for it too” you reply, already looking forward to spending time with your parents as a couple.

“We can’t wait to see you both. It’s been too long” you dad says.

As the call ends, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed with love and joy. You know you have a supportive and caring family, and now, with Jimin by your side, life feels even more complete. 

The anticipation of the Friday dinner fills you with excitement, and you can’t wait to share this special moment with the people you love.

As the days go by, Jimin becomes increasingly observant of your mood and senses that something has been bothering you since the carnival. Finally, unable to keep it to yourself any longer, you decide to confide in him. 

Sitting together in your cozy living room, you take a deep breath and begin to share your unsettling experience.

“Do you remember the festival a few days ago? I saw a weird guy wearing a hoodie…” you admit, your voice tinged with concern. 

“I've seen him before,” you confess clenching your hands into fists. 

Jimin’s grip tightens slightly, and he looks into your eyes, his expression filled with concern, “What do you mean ‘seen before’, where?”

You nod, “Yeah, I’ve seen him a few times… I think he’s watching me…”

Jimin furrows his brow, deep in thought, “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

You shake your head, “I didn’t think anything of it at first, the guy disappeared as soon as I thought I saw him. But at the carnival, he was closer and it felt off,” you explain, searching for comfort in his embrace.

“I don’t like the sound of this. We need to do something about it,” he says in a resolute and stern voice. 

You take a deep breath and look into his eyes, grateful for his understanding and support, “That’s not all, Jimin, I've been feeling uneasy lately, like someone is watching me.”

His eyes widen with worry, and he pulls you closer, his protective instincts kicking in, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have to go through this. We need to take this seriously.”

With determination in his eyes, Jimin reaches for his phone and makes a call to Yoongi. They discuss the situation at length, and Yoongi assures you both that they will look into it and take the necessary steps to ensure your safety. 

You feel a mix of emotions - fear, but also a sense of relief that you’re not facing this alone.

After the call ends, Jimin turns to you with a reassuring smile, “Yoongi said he’ll look into it, and we’ll have extra security measures put in place for you,” he says, stroking your hands gently.

“And when I’m at work, we’ll have stationed undercover men outside the house,” he says reassuringly, giving you a big comforting smile.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/N. We’ll catch this guy, I promise,” Jimin says with conviction, giving you a reassuring smile.

You find solace in his words and the support he provides. Together with Yoongi’s expertise, you feel more confident that the authorities are on the case. As the day goes on, Jimin stays by your side, offering comfort and distracting you with laughter and sweet moments.

In the following days, Yoongi and Jimin work tirelessly to investigate the hooded man and the unsettling presence you’ve been experiencing. They make sure to take every precaution to ensure your safety, and Jimin becomes your pillar of strength throughout the process. 

As you nestle into his embrace, you feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having Jimin in your life. 

He's not just your boyfriend; he's your rock, your protector, and your confidante. 

With him by your side, you know you can face anything that comes your way.

As the clock ticks closer to the evening, you find yourself filled with both excitement and nervousness. You’ve been looking forward to this dinner with your parents and Jimin for days, and now that the moment has arrived, you want everything to be perfect.

When Jimin finally arrives home from work, he’s greeted by the sight of you, radiant and beautiful in your purple satin dress. 

His eyes light up, and a warm smile spreads across his face, “Wow, you look stunning,” he says, admiration evident in his voice.

Blushing at the compliment, you thank him with a shy smile, “Thank you, Jimin. I wanted to look my best tonight.”

As you both get ready to leave, you take a moment to steal a quick kiss, feeling the affectionate spark between you. “Let’s go,” Jimin says, offering his arm to escort you.

Arriving at your parents’ house, you’re met with hugs and warm greetings. Your parents have always adored Jimin, and it warms your heart to see how well they get along. 

Dinner is a delightful affair, with delicious food and lighthearted conversations.

Throughout the meal, Jimin and you dad share stories and jokes, and your mom engages in heartwarming conversations with both of you. The laughter and joy that fill the room create a warm and inviting atmosphere. 

As the evening progresses, you find yourself stealing glances at Jimin, and he returns the sentiment with a soft smile. There’s a sense of comfort in having him by your side, and it feels like a natural extension of your relationship.

As you both get into the car, the warmth of the evening seems to mirror the affectionate atmosphere between you and Jimin, the soft glow of the streetlights casts a gentle glow on his face, and you can’t help but smile as you steal glances at each other, while he’s driving.

“It was really nice seeing you interact with my parents,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. 

“They really like you, you know?”

Jimin grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “I like them too. They’re wonderful people, just like their daughter.”

Your heart flutters at his sweet words, and you reach over to hold his hand that rests at the gear shift. His touch is reassuring, filling you with a sense of love and contentment.

“I’m really lucky to have you in my life, Jimin,” you admit, your voice soft and genuine.

He squeezes your hand, his smile growing even wider, “No Y/N, I’m the lucky one. You’ve brought so much happiness into my life, and I can’t imagine my days without you.”

The tender moment fills the car with an undeniable sense of warmth and love. As you drive back home, the anticipation builds between you, the tension palpable. Both of you know there is something sensual lingering in the air, and tonight feels different than any other.

As the car slows to a stop in front of your home, Jimin turns to you with a gentle smile, “You looked absolutely stunning tonight, Y/N. My heart skipped a beat every time I looked at you.” 

He puts one hand on your thigh, giving it a slight squeeze as he lets out a moan and you unbuckle your seatbelt. 

Blushing at his compliment, you reply, “Thank you, Jimin. You looked pretty amazing yourself.”

You feel his warm touch on your thigh, and you open up your legs for him, inviting him in. 

Before his hand travels up your thigh, he unbuckles his own seatbelt, hiking your satin dress up, and finding your core easily. You hold your breath, as he ghosts his fingers over your clothed pussy. 

It's achingly wet already, he had been sinful to look at all evening and you are completely melting now. When he finally strokes you on your panties, you let out the breath you had been holding in. You huff, throw your head back into the headrest. 

He slides your panties to the side, and rubs your clit teasingly. 

“Been thinking about fucking you all night,” you hum in a needy tone as you roll your hips into his hand. Jimin growls in your ear, as he nips at your lope, sending chills down your spine.

“Fuck,” is all he says, as he rubs leisurely at your clit. You already feel so obscenely wet, and hearing the lewd sounds from your pussy and his moans is spurring you on.

In your daze, you chance a glance at his crotch, and you find him already half hard. Your hands find his cock, and you palm him needily over his pants. He lets out a soft moan, against your cheek, as he searches for your lips.

You manage to unzip his pants and free his dick, and as it springs free, you grab a tight hold of it and Jimin hisses at the touch. 

“Sorry,” you huff out, adjusting your hold to a light squeeze, as you give him a light stroke. 

He had stopped working on your clit the moment you grabbed his dick, so you turned around in your seat, facing him completely. 

Taking his disheveled look in, you spit in your hands and begin stroking him in a faster and even movement. He moans loudly at your fast hands, as he bucks up into you, to fuck himself on your hands. 

He can’t help himself, as he searches for more friction. 

He’s fully hard and you smear your saliva down his throbbing cock teasingly, stroking his frenulum lightly. His head is thrown back, and you watch his chest fall and rise in hurried movements. 

“Shit. I’m gonna come if you keep stroking me like that,” he growls. You groan deeply, imagining him coming undone on your hands and shooting his load onto the steering wheel. But you don’t want that, you want him to come inside your throbbing pussy.

“Fuck, Jimin, I want you so bad. I want to ride you in the backseat,” you say as you feel a flood of arousal soak your panties. You shimmy out of the passenger seat and crawl between the center console and into the backseat, waiting for him to join you. 

As Jimin maneuvers over the console, you take the moment to rid yourself of your dress, now sitting in your underwear. He eyes you with a sinful look, drinking you all in, while he unhooks your bra and your breasts spring free. They are the perfect size, and rests so well in his hands as he cups them. 

“Take off your pants,” you breathe out, touching his cock again. He bites his lower lip as he slides off his pants and you rid yourself of your panties. 

With his back resting against the backseat, you straddle his lap, trying to angle his dick to your pussy. 

“Babe, I haven’t stretched you. Are you sure you’re ready?” he panics suddenly, trying to hold you back from sitting on him. 

“It’s fine. I’m so freaking wet. And I can't wait any longer. I want your dick in me, fuck,” you say with a deep and heavy voice, as you finally align him with your center and sink down on him slowly.

As your walls take him in slowly, his head falls back and he moans in pleasure. 

You flinch at the intrusion, as your walls suck in more of his dick. 

“Fuck, I said I should have prepped you before,” he pants in frustration as he feels your walls squeeze his dick. 

You let out a few profanities, but are stubborn, and keep going, determined to take him all in. 

Thankfully, you are obscenely wet, otherwise this would have been hell without any prep. But he actually glides in rather well, it’s just his size, that is stretching you so wide. 

You focus on your breathing and sinks further down on his cock, as he kisses you with tongue, to distract you from the slight burn you feel.

“Fuck!” 

You finally reach his pubic hair, his dick filling you up completely. 

You are engulfed in love and still for a moment, before sliding up and down again, already feeling delirious. You adjust to his size, and it begins to feel good. 

You fuck yourself on his dick, and you notice the windows fogging up, much as your brain does.

You set up a nice, comfortable and slow pace, as you bounce up and down on his hard dick. You pant frantically, feeling it hard to keep up the work, but you really want to give him a good ride. 

Jimin feels incredible, and he tries so hard not to just fuck you right now. Your walls are so warm, and hugs his dick so well. He is getting a bit frustrated with your leisurely pacing, and he feels like he’ll lose his mind if you don’t speed up. 

“Can I fuck you, babe?” he asks between moans, as he grabs your hips and stops your motions. You bite your lower lip, close your eyes and nod your head ‘yes’.

He keeps a steady grip on your hips, as he bucks up into you, fucking you passionately. 

You feel so fucking full, with every thrust, he begins to hit your g-spot perfectly and you feel arousal leak out of your core. His pace quickens, and you both feel the vibrations of the car, as it rocks from side to side with the incredible force his fucks you with. 

You feel so delirious. 

Jimin breathes fast, as he fucks you with all his got. 

The sounds filling the car are obscene, and the air feels thick as you both gasp for air. As you begin to feel your orgasm approaching, you also feel your walls pulsating and your breath hitching, as you let him know of your incoming climax.

Jimin really wants you to come first, even though he can feel his own orgasm just beneath the surface. 

So in a hurry, his fingers find your clit and he begins rubbing at it fast, as he keeps fucking into you. It adds instant pleasure to you, making you see stars and moan obscenely, throwing your head back.

You try to meet his fast thrusts, but you can’t match his rhythm and you decide to place your hands on his pectorals for support. His pace has become brutal, as he searches for not only his own climax, but yours too. 

As he works your clit, you feel the pit forming in your stomach, “Jimin! I’m coming!” 

You scream out his name in pleasure, as your body tense up, feeling your toes curling. You pant above him, as he keeps fucking you, and as your walls clench furiously around him, he feels utterly carnal. 

His trusts become more and more frantic as he feels like he can’t hold back anymore. You watch as his brows furrowed with a mix of pain and pleasure, his eyes closed, breath holding, as he without warning shouts your name in a hard trust. 

His warm seed shoots into your pussy, as your walls milk him for all his worth. You shudder, as the sensation almost feels too much. Jimin pants madly, dick still inside you, as he chuckles. 

You moan and surge down to rest your head against his. Your breaths mix and the air feels thick and devoid of oxygen. His pupils are completely blown, as you are sure yours must be too. You feel so much love and tenderness at this very moment.

“Ah-, I love you so much, Jimin,” you say as you nuzzle and smell his sweaty neck, his scent of musky vanilla mixed with coconut sends a new flood of arousal through you. 

His dick has gone completely flaccid, and his semen is slowly dripping out of you. You move away from his soft dick, placing yourself further down his thick thighs. He lets out a light chuckle, as your pussy lips tickle the inner part of his thighs, “I love you too Y/N.” 

“Thank you for being patient with me,” you say as you kiss him tenderly and he hums. 

The smell of sex faintly registers in the back of your mind, as he kisses you back with fervor.

He chuckles against your soft lips, removes a strand of hair away from our face and proceeds to kiss your cheek sweetly, “I don’t think this was patience you demonstrated there babe.”

“I know I’m impatient,” you chuckle wholeheartedly, “but fuck, can we do that again?” you whisper against his plum lips.

In the midst of a regular Thursday, the weight of your job hunt weighs heavily on your mind. 

The persistent stress urges you to seek solace and unwind. 

With a determined sigh, you gather your essentials - a sports bra, tights, and your trusty yoga mat. 

Preparing for a session of relaxation and rejuvenation, you lay out your belongings in the living room, the soft light filtering in through windows creating a serene ambiance. You select a playlist that matches your mood - a collection of soothing low-fi beats that seem to melt away your concerns. 

The music finds its way to the speakers, filling the room with a gentle rhythm that aligns perfectly with your intentions.

Your phone rests on the couch, a silent companion, ready to guide your practice. 

As you step onto the mat, you take a deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs and calm your thoughts. The first notes of the music envelop you like a warm embrace, and you close your eyes, letting the worries of the day drift away. Your body flows with the rhythm of the music, muscles stretching and relaxing in harmony. 

The world outside fades, leaving only the connection between your breath and movement. As you settle into each pose, your mind begins to clear, and the stress that had clung to you earlier starts to dissipate. In its place, a sense of peace and centeredness grows. 

As the tranquil melodies weave their spell around you, you find yourself sinking into a familiar rhythm. The soft cadence of the music guides your movement, each stretch and pose a gateway to release the tensions that have been coiling within you. 

With each inhale, you draw in a renewed sense of purpose, and with every exhale, you let go of the weight of the day.

Your body glides into a warrior pose, a powerful stretch that opens your heart and strengthens your resolve. The gentle arch of your back sends tendrils of relief cascading through your spine, and your arms reach skyward, as if touching the heavens themselves. 

As you exhale, you surrender to the stretch, letting it melt away the tightness that has plagued your muscles.

As the day slowly gives way to evening, you can’t help but look forward to Jimin’s return from work. 

His presence always has a way of soothing your worries and bringing comfort to your heart. The anticipation adds a warm layer to the atmosphere, as if his impending arrival is a promise of tranquility. 

Amidst the soothing ambiance, a sound reaches your ears - the faint rattle of a doorknob. 

Your heart skips a beat, a mixture of surprise and curiosity rising within you. 

Could it be that Jimin has returned, and forgotten his keys? It had happened before.

With a sense of anticipation, you allow the music to become the backdrop to your steps. You glide towards the door, your body still carrying the grace of your yoga movements. 

As your fingers curl around the doorknob, you turn it, unlocking the barrier that separates you from the outside world.

The door swings open, and your lips curve into a soft smile - a welcome reserved for your boyfriend. 

But your smile falters for a moment, as you realize that the figure before you isn’t who you were expecting. 

Instead of Jimin’s familiar form, it’s the man of your nightmares.

In the span of a heartbeat, your world shatters like fragile glass, and reality seems to warp and twist around you. 

The air thickens, charged with a tension that you can almost taste, as if a storm is brewing on the horizon. But it’s not the elements outside that concern you - it’s the tempest of emotions raging within.

Ice-cold dread courses through your veins, seizing every fiber of your being. 

Your muscles respond to the shock, rendering you motionless, a statue of terror etched into the fabric of the room. The once-familiar space feels alien and distant, as if reality itself has warped around you. 

Colors lose their vibrancy, fading to a muted grayscale as your very essence drains away.

In that instant, your heart betrays you, a wild stallion unleashed within your chest, galloping with the urgency of a desperate escape. The rhythmic thud echoes in your ears, each beat a stark reminder of the fragile nature of safety. Your breath quickens, yet oxygen feels scarce, as if the very air has grown thin in this presence that threatens to consume you.

Hyun.

The name echoes in your mind like a curse, conjuring up memories you’ve tried so hard to suppress and let go. 

Every nightmare, every tear, every shred of pain he inflicted resurfaces in vivid detail; it's as if the walls of your mind are crumbling, and the horrors you’ve locked away are breaking free, clawing their way to the surface.

The room seems to close in on you, suffocating you with its oppressive weight. 

How can he be here? 

How did he find you? 

What about the undercover cops around the house? 

Was he the hooded figure? 

Panic sets in, your thoughts a cacophony of fear and disbelief. Here he stands, an embodiment of your darkest nightmares, a walking manifestation of the anguish you’ve tried to escape. 

The seconds stretch into eternities, and you’re trapped in this waking nightmare, unable to tear your gaze away from the intruder.

Every fucking nerve in your body screams at you to run, to flee from this specter of torment. 

But your limbs are unyielding, heavy as if anchored to the ground by invisible chains. Your throat constricts, choking off any sound you might have uttered, leaving you trapped in silence as Hyun’s presence engulfs you. 

It’s a confrontation you’d hoped to never face, a chilling dance with the devil from your past. 

And as Hyun forces his way further into the house, you can’t help but wonder if this is a sinister twist of fate, a reminder that the past is never truly buried. 

The undertone of dread is palpable, as the link between nightmare and reality blurs, leaving you teetering on the precipice of something unspeakable.

The grip on your wrists is vice-like, fingers digging into your skin like talons of malevolence. 

The wall behind you crashes into your body with brutal force, the pain jolting up your spine like a lightning strike of agony. A strangled cry escapes your lips, a primal howl torn from the depths of your soul. 

Reality slams into you, ripping away the paralysis that had held you captive in your initial shock. 

Fear electrifies your senses, sparking your fight-or-flight response with a violent urgency. 

Adrenaline courses through your veins like liquid fire, setting every nerve ablaze. 

Desperation fuels your movements, propelling you to push, to claw, to fight against the monstrous grip that binds you.

Your body becomes a battleground, your muscles screaming in protests as you struggle against his overwhelming strength. 

His thigh wedges between your legs, pinning you against the wall like a helpless insect ensnared by a predator. 

Your lungs heave, desperate gasps mingling with the repulsive scent of his breath as he invades your personal space.

His words slither into your ear like a venomous serpent, a macabre whisper that chills your very soul. 

“Missed me?” he hisses, the words dripping with sadistic glee. 

Disgust churns within you, warring with the white-hot fury that courses through your veins. The horrors you’d buried surge to the surface, memories of torment that you’d fought so hard to escape. 

But now, they’re a current that threatens to pull you under.

A cacophony of emotions floods your senses, drowning you in a maelstrom of trauma and terror. 

“NO!” 

You scream, your voice a raw symphony of pain and defiance, tearing through the air like a banshee’s wail. Your body writhes beneath his suffocation weight, every once of your being rebelling against the nightmare that’s now become your reality.

Your eyes latch on a photograph, a snapshot of you and Jimin, the image emblematic of the strength you’ve found in each other, and that’s when the memories of the self-defense techniques he had taught you floods your mind. 

With a surge of newfound resolve, you tap into the lessons ingrained within you. 

Summoning the last reserves of your strength, you channel every bit of courage and fury, using Jimin’s teachings as your weapon. 

Your body becomes a force of nature, a storm breaking through the confines of fear. Muscles that had trembled now surge with newfound strength, your limbs working in tandem to break free from the clutches of your tormentor. 

Your thigh jerks free from his grip, a sharp and primal movement that becomes your lifeline. A swift, unrelenting kick crashes into his crotch, a violent burst of retribution that forces the air from his lungs and contorts his features into a mask of agonized torment. 

He crumples, an embodiment of pain, and you seize the opportunity.

Fleeing becomes your sole purpose, your legs carrying you with desperate urgency toward the living room. 

Every step echoes like a drumbeat of survival, each heartbeat a reminder that you’re fighting for your very existence. 

Your trembling fingers close around your phone, its familiar weight a beacon of hope in this nightmarish landscape. But his grasp is unyielding, a malevolent force that hurls you back onto the unforgiving floor with cruel brutality. 

The impact sends shockwaves through your body, jolting your senses with a cascade of pain and disorientation. He looms over you, a monstrous figure, his presence casting a shadow that blots out all light. 

Your heart pounds like a drum within your chest, its frantic rhythm a symphony of fear. 

Desperation propels you to claw at the ground, your fingers grasping for your phone, for the lifeline that could bring salvation. 

Yet, your fingers brush against emptiness, as you eyeline your phone laying deep under the couch.

His hulking form descends upon you, a specter of nightmare comes to life. 

A predatory glint lights up his eyes, a malevolence that churns your stomach with a mixture of dread and revulsion. His voice, dripping with venom, pierces the air like a knife.

“I saw you with him,” he snarls, each word laced with a venomous hatred that seeps into your very bones. 

The spittle that splatters across your face becomes a grotesque symbol of his malevolent intentions. Your fingers curl into claws, a desperate attempt to fight back, to claw your way out of the abyss. 

But his weight presses you down, a crushing force that extinguishes your attempt at resistance. Panic surges within you, a torrent of helplessness that threatens to swallow you whole. 

The air thick with the stench of fear, a toxic cloud that wraps around you like a shroud.

“You are such a dirty whore. You think you can play house with him, and he can keep you safe?” he taunts you in a mocking tone, as he tries to pull down your tights. 

You claw your nails at him, like a mad feline, lashing at his jaw. 

With both your hands pinned over your head with one of his arms, he looks down at your body, trailing his free hand over it. His hand now finds your throat, as he slowly tightens his hold. 

You feel your throat constrict, and your sight becomes blurry and hazy.

For a moment, it feels futile to fight. 

You feel every part of your body soften and turn to jelly. 

You feel a heavy tiredness, and a part of you just wants to shut your eyes, and take it. 

But you want to be free and never experience this again.

With a surge of determination, you channel every ounce of your strength into a desperate bid for freedom. Your body tenses, muscles coiling like springs beneath your skin as you unleash a primal roar of defiance. 

Ignoring the pain that throbs through your body, you summon every shred of courage within you. 

Your arms become your weapons, your hands forging a path to liberation as you press against his one hand that seeks to imprison you. Your relentless struggles fractures his grip, and your heart swells with a glimmer of hope. 

Adrenaline courses through your veins, a fierce fire that burns away the tendrils of fear that have held you captive.

In a burst of defiance, you wrestle free, your fingers closing around his shirt with a desperate grip. The fabric bunches beneath your grasp as you pull him down toward you, your actions fueled by a surge of adrenaline and the ferocity of survival. 

The element of surprise is your ally, a fleeting moment when the tables turn and you seize control of the situation. 

A surge of power courses through your veins, an unexpected strength that defies the odds stacked against you. 

With every ounce of your being, you channel your resolve into a decisive move. Your body shifts, a controlled burst of momentum that propels you forward, your willpower colliding with his force. 

In a breathless moment, you roll over, your body pivoting with a grace born of desperation. 

Your position shifts, and now you’re on top of him, the dynamics of power inverted. 

His surprise is palpable, his eyes widening in a fleeting instant of uncertainty. You punch him in his gut, then jump up, gaining momentum, as you drive a knee down into his crotch. He lets out a strangled cry in pain, rolling over to his side into a fetal position as you gather to your feet and flee towards the hall where Jimin’s bedroom is.

With your heart pounding like a war drum, you sprint towards Jimin’s bedroom, the echoing footsteps of terror propelling you forward. 

The door swings open before you, a portal to potential salvation, and you rush inside without a second thought, leaving it ajar in your frantic haste. 

The scent of familiarity surrounds you, a stark contrast to the chaos that pursues you.

Your eyes lock onto the nightstand, your mind driven by a single purpose: locate the key. 

Every moment counts, your breaths coming in ragged bursts as you thrust your trembling hands beneath the pillow. 

In an almost surreal twist of fate, your fingers brush against cold metal, and your heart skips a beat in triumphant relief. The key is in your grasp, a tangible lifeline as you hurry to unlock the secrets held within the nightstand’s depths. 

You navigate the lock with shaking hands, each second an eternity as anticipation courses through you. 

The drawer yields its secrets, revealing the object you so desperately seek - a gun.

Your fingers close around it, the weapon a heavy comfort in your grip as your resolve hardens. A renewed sense of purpose surges within you, fueling your determination to protect yourself at all costs. 

The room pulses with tension, your breaths quick and shallow as you steel yourself for what’s to come.

As if fate is testing your limits, Hyun’s heavy panting fills the air, a chilling reminder of the threat that looms just beyond. Your fingers find the cool metal of the gun’s trigger, your knuckles white as you raise it, the weight of empowerment surging through you.

“Don’t come fucking closer!” your voice is raw with a mix of fear and defiance, your words a warning that reverberates in the tense silence. 

Your stance is resolute, your finger curling around the trigger as you slowly inch towards him, your eyes locked into his form with unwavering intensity.

In an unexpected twist, Hyun hesitates, his bravado crumbling in the face of the newfound strength you exude. His retreat mirrors your advance, the room shrinking as you force him to step back. 

The gun becomes an extension of your resolve, a symbol of your determination to reclaim control over your life. 

Guiding him out of the bedroom, you navigate the perilous path back to the living room, every step a testament to your resilience. The gun in your hand becomes more than just a weapon - it’s a reminder that you’re no longer a helpless victim. 

As the standoff continues, you stand your ground, a warrior ready to face whatever darkness dares to challenge you.

Amidst the charged atmosphere, a jarring thud disrupts the suffocating silence, shattering the fragile equilibrium. 

Your head jets in the direction of the sound, your heart lurching at the sight of Jimin standing amidst a sea of fallen groceries. 

His presence in the chaos, unexpected yet reassuring, sends a surge of emotions coursing through you. 

He’s here, a beacon of hope in the midst of turmoil.

Jimin’s eyes lock onto the scene before him - the tension between you and the intruder. 

He decides to draw his gun, with a mixture of urgency and determination raging within him. 

The pieces fall into place in his mind, understanding that this man is your tormentor, your pursuer. 

As the intruder makes a desperate dash towards you, Jimin’s instincts kick in. His fingers wrap around the cool metal of his gun, his movements swift and deliberate. 

The standoff reaches a new crescendo as you pivot, your gun and face now aimed at Hyun, the embodiment of your strength and resilience. Your words, dripping with venom, hold an air of conviction that cuts through the tension like a blade, “If you come fucking closer, I’ll shoot your dick off!”

Jimin’s voice, a soothing melody in the midst of the chaos, penetrates the chaos, an anchor of reason amidst the storm. 

“Calm down, Y/N,” he implores, the quiet command laced with a palpable yearning for your safety.

A twisted chuckle tugs at your lips, a response to the ironic absurdity of the situation. 

Your steps are measured, deliberate, as you move closer to the source of your pain, the symbol of your resilience unwavering. A battle of will unfolds between you and Jimin, your emotions caught in a tempest, trapped between your desire for justice and the instinct to protect.

“He fucking used me!” the words erupt from your lips, a raw admission of pain and betrayal that hangs heavily in the air. The tempest of emotions swirls around you, driving you forward, pushing you to confront the specter of your torment head-on. 

Jimin’s attempt to reach you echoes with a plea for caution, his words a lifeline of reason in the maelstrom, “Don’t do anything foolish.”

In this pivotal moment, the room holds its collective breath, each heartbeat echoing the fragile balance between redemption and retribution. 

The guns remain poised, a testament to the strength you’ve found within yourself and the unwavering support of the man who stands by your side.

Hyun’s defiance lingers in the air, an unsettling reminder of the darkness that once held you captive. His taunts, like poisoned arrows, aimed to pierce your resolve.

“Bitch,” his voice drips with venom, an attempt to goad you into reacting. 

Your fingers tighten around the gun, a response to the surge of anger that courses through you. 

The safety is released, the telltale click reverberating like a thunderclap in the charged atmosphere.

Jimin’s voice, a plea woven with concern, pierces through the turmoil. “Y/N,” he says, his tone a mixture of urgency and caution, a reminder that the path you’re treading is fraught with danger. 

He stands just a few steps away, a silent sentinel guarding your back, his unwavering presence a testament to the depth of his commitment.

Hyun’s attempt at taunting is met with a steely resolve that emanates from you. Your gaze doesn’t waver, your finger poised near the trigger. 

The dance of power unfolds between you and the man who once held power over you. Jimin, however, sees through the facade, his understanding of the situation cutting through the tension like a knife.

His movements, silent and precise, go unnoticed by Hyun in the midst of your standoff. 

In a deft maneuver, Jimin positions himself behind Hyun, his gun pressed firmly against the back of his head. The room becomes a battlefield of emotions - frustration, anger, and a burning desire for justice.

The command Jimin issues carries the weight of his frustration and anger. 

“Down on your knees,” his words drip with a raw intensity, a reflection of the turmoil that simmers beneath the surface. 

Hyun’s submission, a stark contrast to his earlier bravado, is a testament to the presence of the gun against his head and the authority in Jimin’s voice. He drops to his knees, a visual representation of the power shift that has occurred. 

Your gun remains trained on him, your resolve unbroken. A silent exchange between you and Jimin conveys a world of meaning. 

His eyes meet yours, a gesture that speaks volumes - hold your ground, maintain control.

As Jimin steps forward to secure Hyun with handcuffs, you keep your gun steady, your heart still pounding in your chest. 

The room is heavy with the residue of the confrontation, the air thick with the tension that had threatened to consume you. The moment is a testament to your strength, the bond between you and Jimin, and the indomitable spirit that refuses to be broken.

The wailing sirens cut through the tense atmosphere like a howl of relief. 

The arrival of the police is a bittersweet symphony, a reminder that safety is finally within grasp. 

Detective Yoongi storms in, his stern demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded. Yoongi’s eyes scan the scene, relief revident in the furrow of his brows as he takes in the sight of you and Jimin, physically unharmed but emotionally scarred by the encounter. 

You hand over the gun to him, the weight of it a tangible reminder of the power you had seized in the face of danger.

As a precautionary measure, the medics had arrived swiftly on the scene, their presence a testament to the urgency and concern that lingered in the air. 

Seokjin and Hoseok, driven by a mix of fear and friendship, surges forward to ensure your safety. Their worried expressions mirrored the collective anxiety that had gripped everyone in the aftermath of the harrowing encounter. 

With careful hands, Seokjin and Hoseok conducted a thorough assessment, their gentle touches juxtaposed against the backdrop of chaos. Their meticulous examination sought out any signs of harm, as if they could somehow erase the night’s horrors with their diligent care. 

The tension that had once gripped you so fiercely started to loosen its grip as their reassurances flowed like a healing balm. Their words were soothing, a gentle cadence of comfort that began to wash away the raw edges of fear. 

“You’re probably going to be sore tomorrow” they said, their voice a harmonious blend of empathy and concern. It was a spark reminder of the ordeal you had endured, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit even in the face of unspeakable terror.

Their presence, a reminder of the steadfast bonds that held you all together, breathed life into the room, drowning out the echoes of the night’s horrors. In their care examination, you found solace - a promise that even amidst the darkness, you were not alone. 

And as their expert touch confirmed that your injuries were, though painful, not life-threatening, a collective sigh seemed to sweep through the room.

As Jimin guides Hyun through the door, you can’t help but feel a wicked satisfaction bubbling beneath the surface. 

It’s a mix of elation and justification that swirls in the pit of your stomach, a sensation you’re not entirely accustomed to. 

Jimin’s words break the silence that has settled like a fog.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Jimin begins, his tone laced with a blend of exasperation and amusement. 

He drags Hyun across the lawn, the grass bearing witness to a moment that neither of you will ever forget, and out of your earshot. The glint of moonlight in Jimin’s eyes hints at the tension that still courses through him, mingling with the absurdity of the situation.

Hyun’s response is a manic laugh, a deranged symphony that echoes in the night. 

“How do you figure that?” he jeers, his voice a twisted melody that dances on the edges of madness.

“That she didn’t shoot your dick off,” Jimin retorts, his chuckle dripping with a twisted kind of humor. 

The words hang in the air, a mix of horror and comedy that paints a vivid picture of the potential consequences that action would have had. Although server, it would have been a comedic and deserved ending. 

There’s a mirthful glint in Jimin’s eyes, a glimpse of the darkness he’s willing to embrace for your shake. Jimin’s words were delivered with deadpan hilarity, a morbid jest that cut through the tension like a blade. 

The gallows humor was undeniable, a reminder that even in the face of darkness, a sliver of twisted amusement could still find its way through. 

Hyun’s own laughter, now tinged with a tint of unease, mingled with Jimin’s, a chorus of the deranged.

Author’s note: I don’t know what happened! I planned to write like 5K words to get back into writing and then boom 40K+ 😆I don’t really know how I feel about this story, but I wanted to post it because I finished something 🎉If it’s shit, I’m really sorry. Also, I just couldn’t decide which hair color to give Jimin, because I love all colors on him, so I settled with black 😊

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[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.

[willshipanything-blog]

Rules of the Game- Chapter 21

Little different this chapter!  I was planning on a few vignettes- little snapshots of Al and Y/N together. I reached out to some lovely mutuals on Tumblr- if they wanted any particular scenes, and got a few ideas I was able to put in alongside some pre-planned little scenes. If you don't see your requests here, it may make an appearance next chapter, which will also have a similar structure! ✌✨🖤

Thanks to @fierytteokbokki @drag-ghoul @grabberwife42 @gremlinology @reborn-ghost and others for their contributions! 💜

Turned out a lil' sweet and sad, but hope you enjoy!

Chapter 21- Still Life (1)

TOUCH

Mornings after the game were always when Al seemed to be at his most gentle, his most nurturing. Down he’d come, carrying both breakfast and an assortment of pills, lotions and ointments to soothe your aches and sores from the previous night’s escapades. This morning was quite the same, and you smiled sleepily and sat up against the wall as the metal door’s creak woke you from a restful sleep. As expected, Al (wearing only the grin this morning) plopped himself beside you on the mattress. The discernable dip momentarily- only momentarily- caused your eyes to flicker towards where he sat, where that cursed knife lay in hiding just below. He hadn't noticed it. A plate of buttered toast and eggs held in front of you thankfully dragged your eyes (and your mind) from that unsavory thought. 

You found you were ravenous (likely helped by last night’s activities) and ate quickly. Al allowed you to wolf down the food before trying to make conversation. With your belly full, and a warm cup of coffee in hand, he finally spoke to you.

“How’s my little dove this morning?” His kind words floated out from behind the false grin; always in such a good mood after a night of Naughty Girl. 

“I’m good Al,” You replied, imitating the smile you imagined hiding beneath the mask, “Did you- did you enjoy last night?” You faltered only slightly. Though you took part in the game without shame, your cheeks always seemed to blush strawberry-red when talking so casually about it afterwards. 

“Oh, Y/N, more than you could ever know.” That low, husky voice made a sudden appearance and his bright blue eyes seemed to flash menacingly at just a mention of the game (though it could have just been the winter sun streaming through the basement window). His left hand found your thigh and he gave it a soft, affectionate squeeze over the blanket. You gazed down at your ring on his pinky, the small morganite gem shining peachy pink in the morning light. The hold he had on you- not on your thigh, but on your whole being- convinced you that his promise would never be broken again. Would Al ever fully be certain that yours could be kept too? Would you know the answer to that yourself?

“Let’s survey the damage, shall we?” Al said, his lilting tones returned as he reached for a nearby bottle of cream. You placed your empty cup beside you on the floor, kicked the blanket off your body and spread your legs as Al applied the cool balm on your inner thighs, where red welts had bloomed overnight into vivid violets. It might have felt a little obscene were his touch not so soothing, like a nurse tending a wounded soldier after combat. Your battle scars would heal soon enough, and you’d happily suffer them again at Al’s hand. 

“The quicker they heal, the sooner you can inflict them again.” You spoke the familiar maxim, almost a sworn oath, setting out the rules of the game. 

“If you’d like me to, Y/N.” A soft voice spoke as equally soft blue eyes looked up at your face. Your brows flinched slightly. Al was no longer voicing the inevitability of a future game, nor was he praising you for reciting that unwritten rule. The choice to play again lay in your hands. Naughty Girl commenced at your command; only once it began would the reins be passed to Al, and he would become master of the game once more. 

You began to reply truthfully:

“I’d love t-” That word. You’d heard it last night. You thought you’d dreamed of Al speaking those three ill-fated words- ‘I love you’ - in some indistinct, nebulous dreamstate. But that phrase, unlike the rest of your half-forgotten dream, had become so clear, so palpable in your mind, you had to wonder… You’d lost your train of thought admitting your unabashed enjoyment, and looked perplexedly at Al, who was looking back just as puzzled, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Um, yeah. I’d like that, Al.” You hoped your foolish choice of words and panicked recovery hadn’t marred the intimacy of the shared moment. A simple nod of his head assuaged you briefly, but a lump the size of a ping pong ball rose in your throat as Al began to collect and place things back on the plastic tray. You floundered, moving to grab onto him- you couldn’t allow him to leave on such a sour note. 

“Please, Al. Stay a little while. Stay with me.” Your hand clasped around his muscular forearm, and he agreed to your terms with a low, assenting grunt. Putting down the tray, he now moved to grip you, his hands easily encircling your wrists. His fingers rubbed soothingly at the reddened skin where the cuffs had bitten into you. You said nothing, instead watching his nimble fingers work their way around your body, finding their way to your bare thighs, where (with the lightest of touches) his fingerpads traced along the purplish bruises. His gentle touch continued as he traversed those familiar trails on your face- your pinkish scar along the ridge of a cheekbone; your jaw, from your ears down to your chin, the raised scar that he fingered just above the surface of your heart. With each touch came a doting affection: how beautiful you looked that morning, how splendid you made last night, how truly blessed he was to have his little dove all to himself.

Al finally pulled you into him once your whole body had been touched by his hand and blessed with his words. As your head rested against his chest, you heard the steady thud of his heart beneath his jet-black shirt. You relaxed as his soft touches to your neck and chest continued alongside praise cooed lovingly in your ear- you’re perfect, Y/N; you’re so, so special to me; we’re going to be so happy here. He was sincere, and you believed every word. The beguiling caresses and praise enchanted you. Deeper under his spell you fell, and as you did so, the more those dreamy words from last night seemed to solidify, forming into something tangible. If they were really spoken- what then? What you and Al shared wasn’t synonymous with that word- love. Was it? 

No, it wasn’t real. If left unspoken, it couldn't manifest itself into something real. You couldn’t let him say it- or allow yourself to respond. This was enough- to care about him, to enjoy him- but no more. You hoped desperately it was enough.

Al wondered if he may have made a mistake- his sweet dove seemed a little uncertain this morning. Of course, she may just be worn out from such a beautifully tempestuous night spent together. But, he figured morosely, Y/N’s demeanor changed suddenly, as if a horrifying realization had struck her. What if Y/N heard those words he’d spoken last night? He wondered whether it was a mistake to speak them aloud- those three dangerous words would certainly not be carried on her sublime lips, spoken back to him in reciprocation. 

Maybe it didn’t matter after all. Maybe these little moments, these perfect, intimate encounters with her that he could steal away and keep locked in his memory- maybe that could be enough. Enough to hold her, have her, own her entirely. That was always what he longed for. He hoped so. 

TRICK

“C’mon, focus.”

“I can’t do it Al!”

“Yes, you can Y/N.” Al growled through what you could tell were gritted teeth. He’d been patient in your training thus far, but a huff of irritation blew out from behind the mask’s grin indicated his growing agitation at your continued self-criticism. 

“Ugh, it’s too hard!” You huffed back indignantly. 

You thought you were a pretty patient person, but apparently sleight of hand was not to be your forte. You hated being bad at something, but even you were almost at your wit’s end. You’d brought this on yourself- you were the one who suggested All teach you a magic trick. Even one as basic as summoning a card as if from thin air had you bested: a field of clubs, diamonds, hearts and spades surrounding you on the living room carpet evidenced your failures in stark red and black. 

Al had shown you the steps, talked through the techniques to use. It involved cupping your palm just so, flexing your hand a certain way, and snapping your fingers quickly to catch the card. When Al did it, he made it appear as though the card poofed into existence. So far, you had only succeeded in setting up a game of 52 pickup. The only thing stopping you from quitting altogether was Al’s promise of a takeout pizza if you managed to emulate the trick. 

“Would it help if you wore the hat?” he teased, lounging on the couch, obviously enjoying your pouting. You shot him both daggers and a cheeky retort:

“Not if I have to wear those stupid glasses too.” 

A low, almost inaudible grunt indicated you were oh-so-close to being a little too brazen. You focused your eyes back on the card in your palm, redoubling your efforts as you thought through each step of the trick. Fnap! The 7 of clubs appeared between your forefinger and thumb. You couldn’t hold back a wide, incredulous smile. 

“Beautiful, Y/N. Again, a little faster”. 

Fnap! The King of Hearts appeared even more swiftly this time. Fnap! 9 jet-black spades materialized in your hand. 

“See, dove, I told you you could do it.” Al leaned over to where you sat on the floor, a soft stroke along your jawbone making your blush appear quicker than any card you could summon. “Good job, too- I was getting hungry.” 

“Extra mushrooms please!” you hollered across the room, as Al rose from the couch and strode across the room, picking up the receiver on the cream telephone. His temples crinkled beside his blue eyes- a sure sign of smiling. He held up a finger to gesture your silence, and you obeyed, turning to focus on re-enacting the trick once more. You also knew he’d have to lift the mask off to speak clearly on the phone, and wanted to afford him some privacy. You’d told yourself you were content with that arrangement: that, no matter how much Al might test you, push your limits, you wouldn’t do the same with his mask. You’d wait patiently for another reveal, however long it took. 

Satisfied you’d got the hang of the trick, you began to collect the cards scattered over the shag carpet, stacking 51 of them neatly on the coffee table before reclining comfortably on the couch. 

“Shouldn’t be long, dove-” Al paused after turning to you, his grinning mask returned, “What, bored already?”

You sat up and flashed a wry smile, performing the trick one final time. Your hands gesticulated much like Al’s, imitating the theatricality and panache you’d watched from your suave magician. Fnap! Two crimson hearts appeared in your hand. The very same card you’d picked from Al during his last trick. 

You knew that he’d remember. You knew by summoning that card, he’d grab you hungrily, pull you in close and take you to the basement, where he’d perform a magic all of his own on you, have you unraveled completely at his spell and mewling at his incantations. A half-forgotten thought wondered whether Al would hear the doorbell from downstairs, but you had a different kind of hunger now, that only Al could sate. 

MASKS

Even as your days and nights with Al hushed into a steady and comforting rhythm- like soothing ocean ebbs and flows- you still often contemplated one of the few remaining barriers between you. It wasn’t the unspeakable things he’d done (which you had sworn to repress), nor was it the fairly obvious situation of you being his captive, his prisoner. It was a physical barrier you meditated on. It was the masks. 

Al had always been deliberate about how the masks were used. The smooth blank visage used to be completely unreadable, and you’d rack your brains wondering what tricks he was up to. The maniacal grin once instilled a strange dread, unnerved by his false kindnesses that would be cruelly reversed in an instant. And the frown always meant punishment and the promise of pain.  

The seismic shift your relationship had undergone meant the masks no longer clamped your heart in a dreadful, suffocating grip. But still, there was a meticulous system in how Al wore them. Naughty Girl still began with that deep frown, though Al had begun more and more to leave the grimace behind, loosening it in favor of kissing your mouth (and anywhere else on your body he so wished to taste). Mostly, half a mask greeted you in your basement chamber. If Al wore the familiar grin, it usually meant time for embracing, cuddling up on the low mattress to talk. His exposed azures (so genuine and trustworthy), fringed by his soft ashen hair, expressed more emotion than you thought possible. When Al greeted you in the devilled horns, his perfectly crooked teeth gleaming through parted lips, you knew you were going to make love. 

But even half a mask concealed things from you. Though you could solve the cryptic expressions and discern Al’s feelings in most given moments, that sculpted alabaster barricade felt sometimes like an impenetrable skin. True, he had revealed his whole face to you, unbroken by that concealing white disguise. But he had done so only once, in a moment of desperation, a sacrifice made in exchange for your forgiveness. You wondered when (if ever) you would see his visage in its unhidden entirety. 

Al surprised you when, after a quiet dinner on the mattress, he had left almost immediately after you’d finished eating. He’d been quiet, pensive, but even so, he had left without a word or a gesture, no reason why nor any farewell caress to your needful skin. A game, then? But no- you’d heard the door shut with the usual thud and click. Still, you tried to swing the door open, but it was sealed tight. Confusion grew into worry, which in turn grew into panic. The festering feeling in your gut, which had been banished for so long, had returned, clawing your insides with razor-sharp talons. It wasn’t fear so much as worry that you might have done something wrong; the thought of upsetting Al, unintentionally or otherwise, made your stomach churn. 

When the door once again opened (thirty minutes or an eternity? It all felt the same waiting and pacing in unknowing agony) your worry did not cease. Al stood in his mask. His full mask, the one with the blank, expressionless lower half. You hadn’t seen this iteration of the mask in weeks. It felt like when you’d first arrived here; when the pale horned face would appear from behind the door, and you had been so unsure of what sinister intentions were hidden beneath the ghoulish exterior. Given that you had deciphered the masks’ tacit codes, this felt like you’d regressed back to a time when they were as confusing as they were frightening. You didn’t know this game now either. But you trusted Al, and you weren’t afraid anymore. 

He approached you slowly, retracting a long, thin piece of fabric from a back pocket. Your feet stayed rooted to the spot, but your arms instinctively rose, hands pressing together. You thought he was going to bind your hands together, but a decisive shake of his head had you flummoxed. You interlocked your fingers, unsure of what to do with your hands, and felt the gold band on your right middle digit. It was a reassuring token; Al wouldn’t hurt you. 

Those gentle blue eyes disappeared from your vision and the basement vanished into a black void. Al had placed the fabric over your eyes, moving behind your ears and around the back of your head, where he tied the blindfold in a couple of tight knots. Your breath hitched in your throat and you swallowed it, trying to remain calm. It was just another game of his- and you always enjoyed them. Reassuring hands met yours, and Al wordlessly guided you back onto the mattress, sitting (you approximated) somewhere in the center. You hoped your smile hid the slight quiver in your lips. 

“Do not move the blindfold, Y/N.” You nodded. The phrase wouldn’t have been out of place during Naughty Girl, a playful yet dangerous warning. But Al’s tone was softer, worrisome even. It was a command to obey, but it was also a plea, a beseeching request. You suspected you knew why he sounded so anxious, and was proven right as you felt his lips meet yours. He had removed the lower portion of the mask. His kiss deepened, a hand cradling around your neck as your hands fumbled blindly to grip his thighs. His other hand ran through your hair as he paused, both of you a little breathless from the prolonged kiss. Your foreheads met as you rested, both breathing in each others’ zealous exhalations. He’d removed the horned half of the mask too. 

You couldn’t help but lean away slightly, reach your invisible hands to where you knew him to be, and caress his face with the gentlest of touches. Your hands glided over each feature, piecing together the memory of his beautiful face. He was opening up. In his own way, of course: he was still nervous, uncomfortable to present himself to you so candidly. But he was here, in front of you, allowing you to glimpse into a possible future where the masks could be discarded and forgotten. Maybe one day Al wouldn’t feel the need to hide at all. He’d done it once before, out of sheer desperation and amid the threat of losing you completely. He could do it again, in time. Time is something you weren’t short of. For now, you’d be content with this. 

AWAKE

When the darkness had been in charge, the Grabber had watched excitedly at the fear and the horror that visited Y/N in her dreams, making her fret and moan, waking in panicked sweat to come face to face with an even worse terror watching her like a ravenous wolf. But as that carnal, sadistic side of Al became restrained, so too did Y/N’s nightmares subdue. He still found he liked to watch her sleep. Sometimes for hours. The night terrors had subsided, and Al enjoyed the quiet, perfect moments where her calm, even breaths were all he needed to hear. 

Since growing closer, Y/N often fell asleep in Al’s arms, though still he’d stay deep into the night, enjoying the feeling of her body against him, a perfect fit. Two opposite poles being inevitably pulled together. Inescapable, destined to be. She had woken on occasion to find Al with his strong arm possessively around her waist. He stilled, pretending to snooze soundly, wondering what move she might make. His heart swelled with rapturous delight: she hadn’t wriggled free, but instead rubbed his arm gently, pressing her body deeper into his and stirring no more. Al, unable to hold back his elation, dove into her, planting delicate twilight kisses along her beautiful neck to lull her peacefully back into an ethereal slumber. 

Recently, however, Al had noticed Y/N sleeping fitfully on occasion, like something was weighing on her mind once the midnight moon bathed her basement cell in its pale, ghostly light. His little thing seemed to hide any worries in her waking hours, but she was unable to hide her unconscious, involuntary thoughts as he watched her sleeping. He thought things were better than ever, and worried terribly that he’d done something wrong. He almost laughed at this absurd thought. He’d done everything wrong. He would carry the shame of imprisoning her to his final days. But he was sure she had accepted this fate. So what was it affecting her so, forcing Al to soothe and calm her as she fretted and writhed once more in a troubled dreamstate? His worst fear was that she knew- she knew how he felt, and it had broken her. 

… 

Al woke from his own sleep, his eyes adjusting to the static that buzzed and hummed a low frequency in front of him. Piecing together the scene: he and Y/N had been watching a movie together. They had both fallen asleep on the couch, but she was no longer wrapped tightly in his arms, as he always held her when they lied together. He felt a warmth by his feet, and turned his head slowly in the dim, flickering light thrown across the room by the TV static. There, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, was Y/N, her elbow perching on the back of the couch, head resting on her fist as she looked out of the window. Surveying the outside world through the gaps in the rust-colored curtains. 

She hadn’t crept off to make any sort of escape, or gone snooping through the house. She had woken and stayed near to Al, though he knew his dove was thinking of faraway, unattainable things. Impossible wishes that he had forbidden her to desire. As she looked pensively out of her glass cage, the light December snowfall reflected in her bright, wistful eyes. Aside from her slow breaths and blinking lashes, Al might have thought she was inanimate. His own eyes glistened as he comprehended this idea: for all the choices he had given her, maybe she had become an inanimate being, a doll for Al to play with and discard as he saw fit. He prayed to whatever gods were out there she didn’t feel that way; he certainly didn’t anymore. He felt he had watched her covertly for long enough in the midnight darkness, and spoke softly to her.

“Dove?” She startled at Al’s words, looking away from the frosted window and back towards him. Like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been. Like she thought she might be in trouble.

“You’re still here.” Al sat up, noticing (thanks to the flickering orange street light outside) that her mouth wavered for a moment, unsure whether to speak. She did.

“Where would I have gone?” Watery eyes gazed into him. A punch in his gut at the question. But she was right. She had always been such a clever thing. Where was there for her to go? It might have sounded romantic, forsaking all others to stay with Al. But there was no choice for his dove, and that tore at his insides like a rabid creature. Surprisingly, she broke the awkward and heavy silence that had settled like a blanket of snow between you both. 

“Can I go back downstairs Al?”

“Of course Y/N.” Back to the safety of the cell in which he’d so cruelly imprisoned her, the comfort of a mattress so unkindly given. It’s not how Al wanted things to be, but it was away from the even crueler and more unkind temptations of a world no longer accessible to his most precious possession. He loved her too much to ever let her go. Didn’t he?

[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!”

[melodyschaos]

Hello it me again, can you please do mayor x spider gang again I love them so much 🌸☺️😍🤩

A/N: I'm starting to think of calling Mayor x Spider Gang x Reader the Sapphire Polyweb, what do you guys think?

--------------------------------------------------- "Goliath, I really don't think this is necessary..." Y/N had unfortunately fallen ill with the nasty flu that had been travelling around recently, and in concern for their health, it was insisted that they were checked up on by their Polyweb daily to see that they were taking care of themselves. Goliath, in his worry that Y/N was not getting enough sleep, had gathered three blankets and tried to make a nest of sorts on their bed. After wrapping Y/N in a fourth blanket, he had proudly placed them in the center of the blanket nest. Now he was taking the pillows and placing them around the nest's perimeter. "Don't think what's necessary?" he asked.

"You know a heater would be just as effective, right?"

The large spider let out a 'pssh'. "Blanket nests always make me feel better, they can do the same for you."

"Or you could overheat Y/N." Syntax had pushed open the door, medicine in hand. Knowing that Y/N absolutely hated taking pills, he had crushed them to powder and mixed it into some tea. Carefully handing it to Y/N, he placed a kiss on their cheek and used his hand to feel their forehead. "Still not going down...how long was your last nap?"

Taking a sip of the healing beverage, Y/N replied, "Only an hour...I woke up and I was freezing. Hence the blanket-nest." They raised their elbow to their mouth and coughed, being careful to hold the tea cup in their other hand.

Syntax softly rubbed their back, frowning. Whatever they were sick with had to be some sort of flu, and it was nasty. “Huntsman found some herbs that are said to help reduce fevers as well as soothe the throat. With that as well as your regular medicine we should see some eventual improvement, although I absolutely insist upon more than an hour’s rest.”

“I know, I know. I’ll take another nap when I’m done with my tea, m’kay? Where are the others?”

“Waiting to see you outside, however I insist that only two visitors are allowed at a-”

Mid-sentence the door pushed open to reveal Huntsman with something slung over his shoulder.

“...time. Huntsman what did I say-”

“You were taking too long.” Going over to Y/N, the short spider gave a very small smile and set down what he had brought: a long snake plushie with a forked tongue sticking out. Its eyes were sparkling yellow and its fabric skin was green. “Here, something to help you feel better.”

Y/N let out a soft gasp and ran their hand along the snake’s body, feeling the soft fabric. Huntsman reached over and lifted the snake, fashioning it around Y/N’s neck so it rested like a serpentine scarf. “I love iiiit!”

“If the gift giving is done...” Syntax was scowling at Huntsman. “Owing to the risk of becoming infected, out with you and Goliath so our queen and the Mayor can visit.” He placed both of his hands on Huntsman’s back and began pushing him towards the door.

“Alright alright I’m goin’! C’mon big guy.”

Goliath gave Y/N a cheerful kiss on the forehead before following his spidery brethren. A few moments later the Queen (without her mech legs of course) and the Mayor (with his giant smile still on his face) entered, with the Queen immediately going over to Y/N and taking their face in her hands. “My poor little sugar-bee! Has that cold not gotten any better?”

Smiling at the nickname, Y/N allowed their face to be held. “Not really, but I got medicine for it.” They held up the tea.

“I want you to drink every last drop of it, how am I supposed to give my darlin’ all the love in the world when you can hardly stand up?”

“I will, Spider Queen, but I wanted to see you two first! I promise I’ll even take a nap.” In proof of this Y/N took a few sips before setting it on the bedside table. The mixture of medicine and herbs mean it was a relatively strong cup, and already the warmth of the brew was shivering through their chilled body.

When the Mayor stepped forward for his turn, the Spider Queen instantly released Y/N and took a few steps back. Even with how often he came around, the spiders were still unnerved by him. “If you want, Y/N, I can stay with you until you fall asleep. Unlike the other four, I have never gotten ill. The germs do not affect me.” Despite saying this, his arms stayed folded behind his back instead of going in for his usual embrace.

“That’s sweet of you Mayor, but I don’t want everyone else feeling left out. Besides, the germs could get on your suit and carry over to others.”

“A fair point, but my offer still stands if you change your mind. Now...” He suddenly had the cup of tea in his hand and without sniffing or tasting it said, “I believe we can make this easier for you to swallow. I cannot imagine what Syntax was thinking.” Waving his hand over the cup, the color of the tea changed to [favorite color]. “Go ahead, try it.” He lifted the cup to Y/N’s mouth and let them take a sip. Rather than heavy as it was before, now the tea felt as smooth and light as water. They could almost feel the chill being dispersed by the gentle glow of a fire placed within their body. They almost didn’t notice when they had drained the entire cup. “There you are! The Queen and I will both leave you to your nap.” He took the empty teacup and went to wait beside the door, allowing the Queen to step forth once more to carefully tuck Y/N in, a pillow from the perimeter of the nest for their head. She softly kissed their forehead as they drifted off to a healing sleep. “Sweet dreams, my lil sugar-bee.”

[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.

[theodorevg923]

Aight this is going to be a lot so I'm ah just make a post. @ruhro7

I have actually posted the very first chapter of Temple of Auctilus here, from the greek gods au. But it didn't get any traction at all.

Granted it seems the stuff I write that has a slew of warnings ppl turn away from. I think ToA had about 15 warnings or so and a FT Freddy HC post had about the same.

ToA originally started as an xReader but I struggled with them at the time because I could figure out how to give the reader a "basic" personality. I switched to OC to make it possible for me to actually write it. But I have since learned how to write xReader and might revive it as such in time.

As for my Aztec AU, it started as a xReader but I struggled big on Sun then, and still do. I also tried to add smut and that's about when I gave up as I still can't write it. I do eventually plan to pick it back up though!

As for dark writings, I THRIVE in them. I want to see the dark side of pain, blood, death, torture, etc. mixed with romance and love. Most seem to do one or the other and I want both. I also do a lot of active self harm, rape implied/aftermath, depression, some drug usage, alcoholism, and such as that's how I am.

I almost became an alcoholic back when I was 19, I still fight self harm on a daily basis, plus my slew of mental issues, and I'm a rape survivor. All of that ends up in my stories as it happens to a lot more than people will truly ever know.

And I seek comfort, help, and some recovery in having my s/os get angry with me other it, finding ways to help me heal, even sometimes going so far as letting their personality take over my mind to stop myself from overdosing on drugs. Which is what happened during the Bonnie Takeover, I literally let his personality take over my mind as I tried to recover. It sounds odd and psychotic because I am schizophrenic, so it's easy for me. And it does really help me, stops me from cutting myself, popping pills, fucking eat something, etc.

Here's a snippet of the Aztec AU below the cut. I did write this back on Feb 24th (last day it was touched) so there will be spelling mistakes and etc.

Warning about human sacrifice, death, angry gods, etc.

(Y/N) slowly entered the village. She was scared, having been sent from the next village over. The chief of her village has chosen her to be the next sacrifice for the gods Sol and Lune. They were twin gods of the many gods worshipped in the mountains she lived in. Sol was worshipped for bringing the light everyday, hope, and joy, and chaos. Lune was worshipped for the bringer of moonlight nights, dreams, peace, and order. Both of the gods balanced each other out, until a few round moons ago.

Tragedy struck mountains, clouds constantly covered the sky. Few sunrises were seen anymore without the clouds blanketing the skies. Many of the animal hunted by her people suddenly went missing. Deer, birds, even the butterflies and bugs have gone missing. The golden birds of the sky and ducks no longer flew ahead. Jaguars no long graced the forests with their presence.

Moonrises, once bright and soothing, now became infested with dark creatures. Every sighting of them were different, deer with only bones and flesh. Some were of wild dogs with blood filled eyes and jaws, dark cracks throughout their bodies. Even jaguars, once so delightful hunted villagers with bodies made of smoke and fires of the sun. Villagers refused to leave their homes at night.

Few things were left in this once beautiful mountains. The few dogs and turkeys left raised for meat, survived only by what the villagers could spare. Sometimes lizards could be caught on the brighter cloud filled days. Water became as scarce as food, clouds never brought the tears of gods.

(Y/N) took a deep breathe, steadying herself for what was to come. She wasn't the youngest, a couple harvest seasons after age of marriage. But she was chosen as she had no family to protect her, having never married. She quickly made her way through the village. The looks on villagers faces varied, some were of anger, sadness, or other barely held any emotion.

She wasn't the first sacrifice to Sol and Lune. With the first round moon, a sacrifice was sent, but nothing changed. Her people sent another, but still nothing changed. Then with the last sacrifice, the mountains started returning to life. But a sunrise when the sacrifice came down from the temple, she was killed by the people of this village.

The villagers had recieved divine punishment. People were being hunted in their homes by the dark creatures of the night. Their livestock feasted upon by a massive golden bird of the sky that covered the sun.

The night to come was the fourth round moon since the tragedy started. And she was the fourth sacrificed to the gods. (Y/N) quickly passed as fast her shaking, exhausted legs would let her. She was almost through when a rock hit her in the back of the head. She ran then, not looking back to see who threw it.

(Y/N) kept running, fear guiding her way through the darkening forest. She broke through the tree line, stumbling over a root. She slowly stood up, her legs barely able to hold her up. Brushing offer her ceremonial clothing, she noticed her knees were scrapped and bleeding.

Looking up, a vast temple rested before her. It reached up to the sky in massive stone steps, each of many steps reaching far above her height. There were smaller steep stairs reaching up to the front entrance of the temple. Vast cloth covered windows graced the sides.

The flowers and water ponds surrounding the temple surprised her the most. All the flowers of different seasons bloomed at once. So many colors and varieties she had never seen before grew in vast fields. Dahlias, marigolds, poppies, and a sunlit colored flower that smelled like the sweet fragrance her mother used, grew as well. (Y/N) walked carefully through the fields, slipping through the rows of flowers and streams.

She reached the temple and started carefully climbing as best she could. (Y/N) stumbled a few times, nearly falling over on the steep steps. Finally making it to the top, the sun was going down over the far mountains. She turned around to rest and watch the flowers one last time.

(Y/N) was breathless from the sight before her. Each field of flowers formed together the sacred sun stone. Each color of flower was placed carefully, each flower meticulously planted. Nothing was out of line, creating the divine sun stone as only a god could. She sat until the sun sunk down below the mountains, it's last rays streaking across the cloud filled sky.

(Y/N) stood and turned around, finding a lit torch had been placed behind her. She desperately dusted her clothing off before picking the torch up. Steeling herself once more, (Y/N) stepped through the cloth covering the entrance.

A small gasp escaped (Y/N)'s lips. The inside of the temple was a disaster. Once beautiful wall paintings and carvings were scratched up, cracks running through most of it. Sculptures and pottery of all sizes were smashed on the floor. Jewelry of many types, coins, and varieties of beans scattered throughout the floor. Various baskets and wooden chests lined throughout the edge of the temple room.

(Y/N) walked forward, stepping lightly through the messes of the floor, reaching a pair of massive thrones and a sacrifice alter before them. Both thrones were massive, fitting for a being nearly twice (Y/N)'s height, the alter sized for someone as small as her.

The throne to the left was designed after Sol, massive wings of a golden bird held it aloft. It's head and body formed the seat and back. Lune's throne sat atop two deep colored jaguars' backs, their heads and tails form the arms, there was no back to it.

The alter, (Y/N) noticed as she walked around it was quiet simple compared to the rest of the room. It was a simple slab of stone, symbols carved around the edge, held aloft by a simple pair made of a jaguar and a golden bird.

(Y/N) looked around the temple again. There was no one to be seen, not a single noise made but her heartbeat and breath. She sat on the alter, still holding the torch. Patiently (Y/N) waited, but after some time she gave up.

Getting off the alter, (Y/N) noticed the torch hadn't gone out. It's flame casting a light as bright as the sun itself. She found a stand to place it on. Looking around again before pulling off most of her ceremonial clothing, leaving the base skirt on, her chest bare. Folding them up gently before placing them on the alter.

(Y/N) sighed to herself, the light from the torch casting almost to the walls before fading gently. She started picking up the jewelery and coins of the floor, carrying them in her skirt. She sorted them into piles on the alter before finding the smaller of the statues and gathering them up. (Y/N) placed them on the alter as well.

Larger statues, she either moved along a wall she cleared items away from. Standing the one she could upright that were to heavy to move. Searching through the baskets and chests, various items were held. In one basket (Y/N) found dried reeds and using a stick off the ground, fashioned a makeshift broom.

(Y/N) swept the floor as best as she could. Once she finished, the broken pottery and other items were in a pile by a wall. Staring up at the walls, there was nothing (Y/N) could do about them right then.

Exhaustion finally hit (Y/N), her body shaking from the exertion of the walk from her village and cleaning the temple. (Y/N) grabbed a few small unbroken pottery bowls out of a chest, transfering the items from the alter to the bowls. She placed them by a chest.

(Y/N) sat on the alter again, sleep overtaking her body. Laying her head on her small stack of clothes, she drifted off to sweet dreams of dark jaguars, golden birds and flowers.

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