#Please be sure to read the trigger warning this one gets (a little) intense

[silverskye13]

In which there's a shadow in the room, and a shift in perspective. [And also a trigger warning in the beginning chapter notes]

[whimsyvixen]

𝔼𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕪 𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤

Silent Hill Fic Rating: 18+ Pairing: Pyramid Head x Female Reader Synopsis/Excerpt: His helmet had jerked your way, the sudden movement making your heart drop to your stomach. You couldn't look away from him, mouth agape at the towering menace. You didn't understand how, but you felt him peruse your form--nausea hitting you when he let out a guttural growl and headed straight for you. WARNINGS/TAGS: Dark fic, rape/noncon elements, extremely dubious consent, explicit content, blood play, heavy NSFW, teratophilia(?), monster/human, choking, dacryphilia, rough sex, unprotected sex, forced orgasm, tummy bulge, creampie, very obvious size difference. ⚠️ READ THE TAGS: Please be aware this work contains content that the reader may feel uncomfortable with or otherwise triggered by. DO NOT READ if bothered by tags (no minors). ⚠️

A/N: I had to make sure to finish this one before Halloween! Sorry for the long wait, you guys! I got no tricks with me so I'm just going to hand over this little treat right here ! 🍬

You hid beneath a large table, hands over your mouth to control your breathing as the floor shook. You could feel your heart beating intensely, the organ wanting to burst out of your chest as pure terror seized you when the footsteps paused near your hiding spot.

He was right in front of you. The only being you encountered in the desolate town of Silent Hill.

The monster. 

~

He had emerged out of an alley, swarmed by bugs as he trudged his way through, his massive frame freezing you in place. His head was encumbered by a steel frame, pyramid in its shape and heavy in appearance if his tortured groans were anything to go by. His scarred torso and bulging arms were bare, showcasing the immense power he held as he dragged a massive knife behind him.

You couldn't contain your gasp when you caught sight of it.

His helmet had jerked your way, the sudden movement making your heart drop to your stomach. You couldn't look away from him, mouth agape at the towering menace. You didn't understand how, but you felt him peruse your form--nausea hitting you when he let out a guttural growl and headed straight for you.

Fuck!

You bolted then, nearly tripping over your own feet in your desperation to get away from him. With the amount of blood soaking him and those unnerving growls, you weren't willing to take a chance and find out what he would do to you. Too afraid to look back, you continued running in the abandoned town, losing sight of where you were as you tried to find somewhere to hide. 

What buildings you could make out were old and rundown, their windows smashed and doors creaking ominously. They would not provide you with the cover you needed. You could faintly hear him behind you, breaking into a cold sweat when you turned your head and couldn't spot him in the dense fog. 

When you caught sight of the abandoned school, your lungs felt like bursting and your legs ached from overexerting yourself to run. Your body needed to rest before you collapsed from the fatigue. It was a large enough building that finding you would be a tasking ordeal for the monster. Perhaps he would give up his search for you and allow you to find a way out of this hellish place. You could only hope that you lost him earlier and he wouldn’t know where you crawled off to. 

Running up the steps to the entrance, you were met with the despairing sight of chains wrapped around the steel doors. 

“No, no, no…” you pleaded, grabbing onto the chains in hopes they were loose enough to open the doors. Luck was on your side, because they were– chains pulling taut around the doors, opening just enough to allow someone to squeeze through with some difficulty. Struggling to wiggle your way through, you pushed with all your might and breathed a sigh of relief when you fell inside. 

Taking deep breaths, you looked around and tried to make sense of your surroundings. Needing to squint your eyes to adjust seeing in the dark, you could see a narrow hallway with dirty and rusty lockers lined along the walls. It was an uncanny sight, the broken down doors of the classrooms and splintering wood of the floor making you realize how decrepit this place was. It was so unkempt and old that you flinched when the floorboards creaked with every step you took. You felt like dying every time the floor protested your weight and critters ran spooked by the noise.

The hall turned a sharp corner to the left, more lockers and doors appearing on either side of the walls as before. It was then you noticed the broken elevator, the metal frame twisted in sharp angles and torn cables dangling from tears in the ceiling. If there was an elevator here, then that must mean there was a way up! 

Not caring this time about the noise you made, you hurried to the end of the hall trying to see if you could find some way to get to the second floor. If you could just get there, you would have the advantage of viewing who (or what) was below you on the ground. Maybe even spot a route or path out of this place. Passing by the restrooms, you nearly gagged when a putrid stench hit your nose. The buzzing of flies and roaches in the area made you squeamish, your face scrunching into a disgusted grimace at the dirty facilities before continuing your trek forward.

Finding the stairs was a much harder task than you expected. Faced with multiple locked areas of the building, you were forced to backtrack and navigate through other sections of the building to find another way up. It seemed like a dead end everywhere you turned. 

Just when you were about to give up, you finally spotted stairs leading to the upper floor. 

“Finally,” you muttered in exasperation. Your turtle neck shirt was damp with your sweat, clinging to your body so uncomfortably that you would definitely need a shower soon. Placing a hand on the cracked wall nearest you, you took a breather, closing your eyes as you tried to get your energy back up again. 

“Just a little bit more. Don’t give up yet.” 

Forcing your aching feet to move, you headed tiredly towards the stairs. Once you reached them, you walked up to the landing, turning left to continue climbing forward when you noticed something. 

“You have got to be kidding me?!”

A disbelieving look crossed your face. In front of you was a dilemma that nearly made you scream in frustration. The only way to the upper floor was barricaded with chairs and tables, furniture piled up haphazardly along the second set of stairs as if to ensure no one could get by it. It effectively put a stop to your plans. 

Maybe you could climb over the obstruction? No, you couldn’t risk something falling out of place and crushing you with its weight, causing you harm in the end. You thought about using the railing to skip past the hurdle of furniture, but hearing the creak of the brittle handrail when you held it had you rethinking that idea. Placing your hands on your hips, you tried thinking of how to get past this obstacle. Maybe taking it apart little by little would help?

Seeing as you had no choice, you started dismantling the barricade one chair at a time. The tables were too heavy and had your arms shaking from the effort of pulling them so you left them for last. Once you piled up enough chairs to give you room to move one of the tables, you shook your hands to prepare them to take the brunt of the weight. 

While you were busy with this task, you didn’t know you damned yourself.

What you didn’t know was when you squeezed through the gap of the entrance, your sweater caught on an edge and tore a strip of the pink cloth. You didn’t know it was like a beacon, its vibrant color contrasting from the dull and bleak setting of the school. You didn’t know he held it in his bloodied hand, bringing it to his hidden face as if to smell you. You didn’t see the shudder that went through him. You also didn't see him bursting through the shackled entrance of the school, breaking the chain to pieces as the steel doors lay bent beneath his foot.

However, you did feel the building shake following a loud crash. 

Startled at the muffled explosion, you released the legs of the table you were holding, crouching as you looked around wildly. The echoed sounds of doors being forced open could then be heard even from a distance. Lockers were slammed and torn off the walls, the clash of metal producing an awful screeching sound that resonated across the empty building.

What?! What was that?! You panicked internally, palms sweating as you hid behind the railing. What could’ve made that thunderous sound? Was it him?! It couldn’t be, could it? Trembling with fear, you realized you were a sitting duck. You couldn't go back the way you came or you’ll risk facing what caused that loud commotion.

When you heard a familiar growl, you couldn’t stop the tiny sob escaping your lips. It was HIM! When his steps edged closer to your location, your eyes wandered desperately around your cornered space and spotted a clothed table at the bottom of the stairs. Running down the stairs, you all but crawled beneath the table, tucking your feet in as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. You didn’t have any other option. The cloth provided you with enough cover to pull off not being seen and you could only pray you weren't found.

Eyes wide with fear, you held your breath when he turned the corner, the floor trembling with every heavy step of his boots. You could also hear the scrape of the giant sword he dragged with him, the shrill sound hurting your ears. You nearly bolted when you heard the locker doors being opened one by one before getting slammed shut.

Oh God, please, don't let him find me. Please, please, please. You shut your eyes tightly, clasping your hands against your mouth as you tried to keep as quiet as you could. The corner of your eyes teared up, a lump in your throat wanting to give way to sobs of distress the closer he got.

~

His trudging steps slowed as he surveyed the area. 

Pyramid Head tilted his head curiously, his helmet creaking with the action. He didn’t know where you hid but he could sense you near. When he pressed that piece of fabric to his helmed head, your intoxicating aroma set his nerves of fire, twisting his mind into a lustful haze–the urge to pillage and kill you getting stronger by the minute. 

When he heard that soft gasp earlier in the alley, he was stunned by your feminine form mere meters away from him. You were a small thing compared to him, the top of your head not even reaching his chest. Whatever surprise he felt was momentary, desire quickly flooding his veins as he drank in your lovely shape. How long since a pretty thing like you entered this infernal domain? How easy would it be to subdue you and make you a slave to his lust? What sounds could he coax from those wet lips of yours? His member twitched to life beneath his withered skirt, the thought of possessing you clouding his mind with lascivious images of your naked body beneath him.

When he took a step towards you, you ran like a frightened lamb.

Watching you turn around to flee– the distance growing between you with every passing second– Pyramid Head gripped his weapon tightly, anger consuming him as he followed right after you. 

As if he would allow you to escape him. 

He would take you. Tarnish that soft flesh and desecrate your soul until you were nothing but a bloody heap beneath him. 

He just needed to catch you first. 

Opening the lockers one by one, he couldn’t suppress his frustrated grumbles when you weren’t there. Where were you? He shifted his attention to the familiar clutter of furniture on the staircase, noting how neatly some chairs were piled in a corner–knowing that the times he’s ventured here, the chairs were never tampered in such a way. 

Realizing how close he must be to capturing you, he started up the stairs, dropping his weapon without a care as he tore down the barricade in a frenzy to find you. 

When his search proved fruitless, the veins in his arms and neck became more prominent from his fury. WHERE WERE YOU? Blind with rage, he smashed his fists against the broken furniture and the rotting walls, tearing everything in his wake as he roared loud enough to make his helmet vibrate violently from the sound. It hurt enough to cause him to rupture something and bleed, trails of blood dripping down his neck to mix with the blood of his other victims.

As he stood breathing heavily on the landing of the stairs, trying to shake off the cloud of anger consuming him, a faint creak was heard downstairs. He twisted his body to look behind him, crazily observing the area where he heard it from. 

There was a lone table. The once white cloth adorning it was an ugly shade of brown, time not being kind to as it had torn holes ruining it. He could care less about the useless piece of cloth. What had his undivided attention was the dainty fingers that could be seen poking out beneath it. 

There was a moment of silence before he charged down the stairs. 

Gripping the sides of the table, he flung it across the hall, old wood shattering to pieces when it smacked against the railing of the stairs. He paid little mind to the destruction he created, his focus landing entirely on your meek figure below him. A look of horror crossed your face, mouth open in shock as you stared up at him. A rumble of contentment echoed within his helmet having finally found his prize, quickly dropping down to his knees to grab you and pin you between his legs.

It didn’t take much to overpower you, Pyramid Head sitting on your thighs to lessen your squirming. Bunching the pink fabric in his hands, he tore your sweater apart like paper, your startled scream doing little to deter him. His bloodied hands groped the exposed flesh hungrily, smudging your torso with the red substance as you shrieked in disgust. The way the softness of your tummy gave under his firm hands had him addicted. He loved how weak and pliant your flesh was.

Your mounds were a sight too, spilling off the cups of the small band around your chest. He tore that off easily too, your bust jiggling from the action and making him groan at the sight. Much to his pleasure, he saw your skin pebble with goosebumps, the cool air of the room turning your nipples into tight buds.

His hands moved, thick fingers stroking over your breasts to test the doughy texture. You gasped, arching from the pressure, unknowingly pushing your chest against his palms. Much to your chagrin, the rough pads of his fingers sent a fire bolt careening from your nipples and through your quivering belly to ignite heat into your core. You bit your lip, ignoring the sensation as you tried shoving his hands away with your feeble strength. When he tugged harshly on the tips of your breasts, you let out a pained whine, the kittenish sound sending a shock of pleasure down his spine. He wished to tear you apart, bathe in your essence as he drank up your tortured cries.

He was reluctant to pull his hands away from you, your body smeared in a beautiful canvas of blood, but his need to fully claim you could not be denied.  Pyramid Head removed his hands from your breasts with a final rough squeeze, shifting one to rub his erection to alleviate some of his need, while the other hand trailed down to caress your clothed hip possessively.

He was bewitched by you, reverently stroking your skin with bloodied hands to dirty your purity. Shielding your breasts from his view, you were a vision with your head turned to the side, choking on a sob as you realized that despite how your mind protested his brutish touches, your body betrayed you when slickness dripped between your thighs.

At war with yourself, you didn't pay attention when his attention turned to the last article of clothing preserving your modesty.

Easing up on his weight, he shifted his body down to tug at your black jeans. When the tight fabric stuck around your hips, he grew irritated at the minor inconvenience. Before you could voice out a protest, he roughly flipped you over onto your stomach, shock coursing through you when he tore the denim to shreds at your sides, dragging the rest of it down your legs and taking your panties and shoes with them.

You could feel the heat in your face at the state of your nudity. He caressed your ass then– forcing an undignified yelp from you at the offensive touch– squeezing the globes on either palm, his nails digging into the fat hard enough to leave lasting bruises on your unblemished skin. 

"N-no! You're hurting me!" 

You hissed between your teeth, sharp aches blossoming from where his fingers pressed on your ass. You shivered with disgust when the blood on his hands dirtied your globes, matching it with the mess of your front.

Brushing a calloused finger along your vulva, he was met with the heat of your pussy. It had your body jerking to attention, the blood draining from your face in an instant. When he tried to insert the bloody finger inside you, you shook erratically, your hands scrambling for purchase on the floor to get away from him. 

Tired of your antics, he twisted you to your back, uncaring of the yelp that left you when the back of your head hit the floor with a loud thud. Holding you down with one hand around your neck, he nearly choked you as he began pulling impatiently at the fastenings of his long skirt to jerk himself free with his other. His body shook with excitement, enticed by your naked flesh even as you begged sweetly under him. 

He paid little mind to your frantic scratching on his arm, the pain miniscule when compared to the hard throbbing of his cock— the twitching member pulsating so strongly that it had his mind blazing from the painful pressure, a groan of distress escaping him the longer it was kept confined. Pain that would only be soothed once he was encompassed by the tight walls of your pussy. 

~

The state of your mind went into a panic when you saw it. What lay between those muscled thighs was a monstrosity. It would bring you nothing but pure anguish and misery, the way it could barely spring upward with its heavy weight. Accompanied by an equally heavy set of balls and prominent veins lining the length of it– it was more of an instrument of pain than that of pleasure, meant to punish and brutalize those that fell victim to it. 

A whimper left you before you started thrashing in earnest, clawing away at his arm to get away from that. 

"LET GO OF ME! NO! Y-YOU CAN'T-!" 

You didn't care that he could snap your neck in a second, didn't care that he could rip you limb from limb or crush your head with his bare hands. Those were much better options than the alternative he was hellbent on pursuing. 

What the hell?! How can he be that bi-!!? Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt monstrous hands grip your knees and pull them apart savagely, screaming at the painful ache in your pelvis following the rough motion. He knelt between your spread legs, his large thighs forcing you open and leaving you unable to close your legs.

"W-wait! Wait! Think about what you're doing, please?! It's not possi-?!" 

The blunt head of his cock tapped your entrance, the pearl of precum mixing with your wetness as he tried to nudge his way in. His size proved too much for your smaller frame, his dick sliding up your vulva in a failed attempt to penetrate you. The insistent push of his hips had you holding your breath, body freezing in place when the head of his cock threatened to breach your cunt only to slide along your labia once more. 

The rough motion had you panting, the repeated nudging on your clit causing your pelvis to twitch from the erotic stimulation. You couldn’t stop your body’s reaction to him, a pulsating heat shimmering beneath your skin. Taking a glance down, you shuddered at the sight of his cock sandwiched between your spread lips. It had your feminine channel burning for him despite your fear of him. Shame accompanied your arousal as you felt more of your natural fluids coating the underside of his dick and flowing down your ass in rivulets.

While you lay gasping at the dizzying sensation, you were ignorant to his growing agitation when he missed his mark again. He raised your hips higher, giving himself a better view of your leaking hole before grabbing his wet shaft with one hand and lining himself up once more. This time he was determined to properly defile you.

Your eyes fluttered open when he adjusted you, looking up at him in confusion as you tried to clear your mind. The momentary pleasure he had given you was obliterated in a second when you felt the press of his cock head stab its first inch inside your dripping pussy. 

Like a bucket of cold water hitting your face, you shrieked when the reality of your situation set in. Flinching from his touch, you tried twisting your hips away from him hoping to dislodge the stiff cock from its journey inside you. 

"No! You won't fit!"

Bucking your hips uselessly, you failed to realize that your swirling hips moved pleasantly around the tip, a dribble of cum shooting out of his cock to coat your insides– making you gasp when you felt it and him shudder strongly at the feel of your sweet cunt. Seeing how you were so lubricated for him, he repositioned himself above you, bracing a foot on the floor while keeping the other leg bent at the knee. Grabbing the back of your knees, he pushed them forward near your head, effectively placing you in a mating press of sorts.

Not giving you any time to protest, he thrusted half of himself in one diligent push.

You yelped at the sudden pain, eyes nearly popping out of your face as you felt your pussy stretch beyond its limit. Glimmer of tears rushed to your eyes, the pain making your mouth wobble as he pulled away– the drag of his cock against your inner walls nearly causing you to faint– only to cry out when he thrusted back in with more force. More of his cock violated your sore insides, rendering you a screaming mess as he continued to plunder your wrecked form. Too scared to look at the damage between your legs, you pushed against his firm stomach, pleading for him to stop or he'll kill you. 

A sharp jab into your swollen flesh had you crying out, arching your back as tears trailed down your face. No manner of preparation could’ve made his passage bearable, the stark difference between his gargantuan size and your regular size evident as you struggled to accommodate him.

He took you like a brute. Not caring about your distressed wails.

It hurt.

Maybe the pain was making you delirious, but beneath the agony, there was a thread of pleasure seeping through the cracks. You refused to believe it, the thought of your body betraying you in such a way nearly crumbling you.

…

…

 Then why were your hips moving timidly alongside his?

~

His hands bit into your sides, Pyramid Head lifting your lower body off the floor to smack against him, driving the rest of his cock inside your spasming pussy with a low groan.

It was a tight fit. 

Once the entirety of his throbbing cock was seathed inside your warm heat, he took the time to glance down at you. You were a sweaty mess of blood and tears, pained gasps emerging from your trembling lips as your body twitched uncontrollably from his claiming of you. Your entrance was stretched taut around his engorged cock, the blood smeared on your pelvis making him wonder if it was yours or from him. 

He was immune to your choked sobs, not feeling the least bit remorseful of his violent taking of you. Rather, he was pleased you survived. Many didn’t make it past this stage, but you proved to be a pleasant surprise. 

The snug walls of your cunt suddenly clenched around his dick, nearly making him cum on the spot. 

He pulled his hips back, hissing when your walls clamped down on him, making the task difficult before driving forward with purpose. Before long, your soaked entrance made his movements easier, his dick sliding much faster inside your straining pussy. Pained cries turned into soft mewls, your hips eventually moving in tandem with his with every brush of your clit. 

He paused midthrust to stare at the bulge in your tummy in fascination. It was a ghastly sight– the way your lower belly distended from his cock penetrating you. He pressed on the bump in an inquisitive manner, jolting in shock when your channel clenched around him erratically, a stream of fluid splashing on his lower belly following your loud shriek. 

The shock was momentary, Pyramid Head rubbing your secretion between his fingers to play with the strings. Bringing them beneath the helm of his helmet, he was overtaken with the smell of your lust. Even though you couldn’t meet his gaze, you could feel him staring at you in a hungry manner. He gave you little time to be embarrassed, hunching over you to place your legs above his elbows, spreading you further and spearing into you with brutal thrusts.

He couldn't stop the rapid succession of thrusts, driving into you faster and faster as his release built up with every plunge inside you.

~

You twisted helplessly, opening your mouth to voice out your pleasure as fire spread throughout your body. His fierce pace had you writhing wildly beneath him, shaking your head at the growing tension in your stomach– signaling another approaching orgasm. You didn’t want him to stop. Your womb clenched with every harsh jab of his monstrous dick against it, the pressure escalating with every second of your ruin.

“O-oh! Please, please, please–!!” You sobbed, not knowing if you wanted him to stop his rough onslaught on your poor body or begging for more as his hips collided violently between the juncture of your thighs. The wet slap of skin on skin echoed along the hall, your passionate cries and his low groans forever imprinted on your mind. Your legs grew tired, falling lax on either side of him, unable to keep up with his vigorous pace. 

He used you like nothing more than a cocksleeve, molding the shape of his cock in your tight pussy, his sac slapping lewdly against your ass.

It became too much. 

Your mind went blank when the knot in your belly finally snapped, letting out a scream of completion when intense heat spread throughout your shaking body. Your vaginal walls gripped him tightly, trying to milk him for all his worth, the sudden tightness forcing a growl to emerge from him. Tears escaped you, the painful pleasure driving you mad in his embrace.

White lights danced behind your eyelids, your orgasm turning you into a puddled mess of ecstasy even as he continued to ravage you.

The last thing you felt before closing your eyes in exhaustion was a scorching heat filling your insides, calloused fingers rubbing the bump in your tummy in wonder.

❣️🖤❣️Thank you for reading~! ❣️🖤❣️

I got another treat for my dear followers! You gotta know I'm posting NSFW Art to go with my fics as well~ (*^ ‿ <*)♡

🎃Happy Halloween, you guys! Stay safe out there!🎃

Full NSFW Art here ---> (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

[rynwritesreid]

this is my first time doing a request and your work is probably the best i’ve read since i downloaded tumblr

could you maybe do an angst where spencer and reader are fighting over something she did in the field and he yells at her and raises his hand to run it through his hair but she got scared and flinched, maybe if you want to, have her run out and be gone for the rest of the day

i completely understand if this is way to intense or weird but anywyas tysm, happy women’s day🤍!!

A/N: I am so beyond excited to be your first request. Also I am glad you’re enjoying my writing:) don’t worry it’s not too intense or weird for me, I enjoy (idk if that’s weird or not) writing things like this. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you make more requests in the future my love💕

Summary: after making a mistake, or really a lapse in judgment, you and Spencer get into an argument. During the argument, Spencer’s moves some hair out his face, but this action causes you to flinch.

Content: mentions of DV, please do not read if that could trigger you in anyway. Fem!reader. Angst. Arguments. Fluff. Spencer seems like a bit of an dick, but he is very caring towards the end.

Masterlist|requests are open|navigation

You and Spencer didn’t normally fight, you had disagreements sure, but you both would resolve them pretty quickly. But this time, it was different. You had been, as Spencer had so gracefully put it, reckless.

*

Hotch had asked you to go check out this person’s apartment, there was no reason for anyone to believe that he was actually dangerous, but Hotch just needed to make sure. You had knocked on the door, told him you were FBI, and there was no reply. You tried the doorknob and found it unlocked.

Pushing the door open cautiously, you stepped inside the dimly lit apartment. The air was thick with the smell of musty furniture and old books. As you scanned the living room, something caught your eye - a glint of metal on the coffee table. You approached slowly, heart racing, and discovered a small handgun lying next to a half-empty glass of whiskey.

You were sure no one was around, maybe he had just left it there. But before you could properly react to the situation, a noise from the hallway made you freeze in place. The sound of footsteps was approaching, growing louder with every passing second. Panic surged through you as you realized there was no way out of the apartment without being seen. You quickly scanned the room for a place to hide, your heart pounding in your chest.

But you couldn’t find anywhere, and you didn’t have time to call for backup, or to warn the rest of your team, so you did what you believed anyone would have done in this situation and reach for your gun.

You gripped the handle of your gun tightly, your palm slick with sweat. The footsteps were just outside the room now, getting closer and closer. You held your breath, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come through that doorway.

As the man entered the room, you found yourself shouting out that you were armed and part of the FBI, and if he was carrying any weapons, he should place them on the ground. He didn’t respond, instead he seemed to laugh.

“They are putting little girls in the FBI now, huh?” The man's voice dripped with sarcasm as he looked you up and down, a sneer forming on his face. You tightened your grip on the gun, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a chilling intensity. "What's a young thing like you doing here all alone?" he taunted, his voice laced with malice.

You stood your ground, trying to keep your composure despite the fear coursing through your veins. "I'm here on official business," you replied, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands.

His laughter echoed through the room, sending shivers down your spine. "Official business, huh?" he mocked. "Well, sweetheart, you don’t look very official.”

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let his words intimidate you. You stood tall, meeting his gaze head-on. "I suggest you cooperate and do as I say," you said firmly, your voice unwavering.

The man's smile faded, replaced by a cold stare. "Oh, I'll cooperate alright," he sneered as he suddenly lunged towards you. Instinct kicked in as you raised your gun, a warning shot fired into the ceiling.

The loud bang echoed through the apartment, a split second before the man froze in his tracks. He stared at you wide-eyed, realizing you meant business. Without missing a beat, you took advantage of his momentary shock and swiftly moved to restrain him.

With practiced ease, you cuffed, read him his rights and waited for the rest of your team to arrive.

*

You knew as soon as you saw Spencer’s face that he was angry with you, and you also knew that you were about to get into argument with him.

As the team arrived and the situation was under control, Spencer's eyes bore into yours with a mixture of concern and frustration. You could see the storm brewing behind his usually calm exterior. He didn't say a word as he observed the scene, taking in the sight of you standing there, gun still in hand, your expression a mask of determination.

Finally, when the suspect was escorted out of the apartment by law enforcement, Spencer turned to you, his voice low but filled with intensity. "What were you thinking?" he demanded, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the chaos of the moment. "I had to act fast," you began, but Spencer cut you off with a shake of his head.

"That doesn't excuse recklessness," he stated firmly. "You could have put yourself in danger. What if he had been armed?"

“What is he had been? Well, he wasn’t, and I am alive, I am not injured, so why are you bring what if’s up.”

Spencer's jaw clenched; his frustration palpable as he struggled to find the words to convey the gravity of the situation. "Because you put yourself at risk unnecessarily," he replied, his voice tinged with worry. "We're a team, and we rely on each other to make smart decisions in the field. What you did today was impulsive and dangerous."

“Really? We are a team, and yet no one else is shouting at me. And if anyone should be, it should be Hotch.” you shot back, your tone matching his intensity. "I did what I had to do to ensure the safety of everyone involved. If you can't understand that, then maybe you're the one being reckless by not seeing the bigger picture."

Spencer's gaze hardened at your words; his frustration evident as he struggled to contain his emotions. "This isn't about me not seeing the bigger picture," he retorted, his voice edged with disappointment. "It's about you jeopardizing not only your own safety but the safety of the team as well. We rely on each other to make split-second decisions that won't put us in unnecessary danger."

Your jaw clenched at his words, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within you. "I did what I had to do in the moment," you insisted, your eyes locking with his in a battle of wills. "I stand by my actions, Spencer. Sometimes we have to trust our instincts in the field, even if it means taking risks."

Before Spencer could speak again, he raised his hand to move some hair out his face, however, you flinched and moved back. “I’m, uh, sorry Dr Reid. I won’t do that again.” 

Spencer’s expression softened at your reaction, but he also seemed confused. See Spencer Knew about your previous relationship and about almost everything you had endured, but he didn’t know everything. But your sheepish expression, and the tears welling up in your eyes were a good indication that he had done something to spark old memories up.

Spencer's features softened further as he registered the look in your eyes, his concern deepening. He took a step closer, his voice gentle as he spoke. "I'm sorry if I crossed a boundary, I didn’t mean to startle you," he said softly, his gaze filled with understanding. "You don't have to explain anything if you're not comfortable."

But before you could answer, your fight or flight response took over, and you just ran away. You knew it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but you couldn’t do anything else. Spencer just stood there, unsure of what to do, unsure of why you acted that way. You knew he wasn’t actually going to hit you, and he didn’t realise that him raising his hand like that would cause that type of reaction, but it had happened now. 

As you ran through the corridors of the apartment building, your heart pounded in your chest, the echoes of your footsteps mingling with the rush of blood in your ears. Tears blurred your vision as you pushed past doors and down stairwells in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming flood of memories that threatened to consume you.

Spencer's voice called out behind you, filled with concern and confusion. "Wait, please," he pleaded, his footsteps quickening as he tried to catch up to you. But you couldn't stop, couldn't face him in that moment.

You kept running, your breaths coming in sharp gasps as you pushed yourself to go faster, to put more distance between you and Spencer. This seemed to make him give up on chasing you. He knew you needed some space, but he hated the idea of you been by yourself when you were feeling like that. 

When Spencer had returned to the rest of the team, JJ asked where you had gone, and he just responded he didn’t know.

*

Spencer and the rest of the team had returned to the precinct because they did have a job to do after all, they kept texting you to make sure you were okay. Spencer, however, hadn’t stopped calling you, leaving voicemails saying he was sorry. 

You kept your phone on silent, not wanting to be disturbed by the continuous notifications and calls. Each voicemail from Spencer tugged at your heart, his concern evident in every word he spoke. As you sat alone in the quiet of your apartment, the weight of the memories that had resurfaced bore down on you with relentless force.

*

Spencer had stopped calling you, you were unsure as to why, but you just thought he was giving you some more space. But as night fell and the world outside your window turned dark, a sense of loneliness crept in, wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional buzz of your phone as messages from Spencer and the team continued to pile up, unanswered.

But that had just become white noise at some point you heard a knock at your door, and you froze. The knock came again, more insistent this time, and a familiar voice called out softly, "It's me, Spencer. Can we talk?"

Your heart leaped into your throat at the sound of his voice, conflicting emotions swirling inside you. Part of you wanted to open the door and let him in, to seek the comfort and understanding he offered. But another part hesitated, wary of the vulnerability that came with facing the demons of your past.

After a moment of indecision, you made your way to the door and slowly turned the handle, revealing Spencer standing on the other side. His eyes searched yours with a mixture of concern and compassion, his expression open and vulnerable.

"Hey," he began softly, his voice gentle. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. I didn't mean to trigger any bad memories."

"It's okay, Spencer," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "You didn't know. I overreacted, and I'm sorry for running off like that."

Spencer's eyes softened with understanding. "You have nothing to apologize for. Your reaction was completely valid given your past experiences. I should have been more mindful."

A heavy silence settled between you, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air. Finally, Spencer broke the quietude, his voice tender. "Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to face it alone."

As you looked into Spencer's eyes, seeing genuine care and concern reflected back at you, a wave of gratitude washed over you. Despite the pain and fear that still lingered within you, there was also a glimmer of hope kindled by his presence.

"I... I think I'm ready to talk about it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy but freeing as they left your lips, carried by a sense of trust in Spencer's sincerity.

Spencer nodded, his expression encouraging as he stepped further into your apartment. "Take your time. I'm here to listen whenever you're ready," he reassured you, his gaze unwavering in its support.

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[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Taking Care - Part Four - human!Alastor x human!fem!reader

MATURE CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI!

Go to Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Hello! I know this chapter is quite long, but I realized that after writing it and decided not to split it into two separate chapters. Please make sure to pay close attention to the trigger warning, as the beginning is a bit intense. I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable while reading it. I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

Words: ~6300 TW: time specific views on women, domestic abuse, murder, violence, gore, masturbation

Francis's footsteps echoed through the silent forest, his breath heavy as he was desperately looking for a way out. Alastor told him one single word after he untied him: Run. And that's what he did. He ran as fast as he could, hoping that maybe he could escape. Maybe there was still a chance for him, but frustration caught up to him when he realised there was not a single clue in his mind about which way to go. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins. The scent of damp earth filled his nostrils, mingling with the coppery taste of fear on his tongue as he ran, his body numb against the biting cold. His breath caught in his throat as branches clawed at his skin, the sharp crack of twigs beneath his feet only deepening his sense of impending doom.

He stumbled, his legs weak from all the running, as he hardly hit the cold ground. He tried to get up, but his body felt weak, exhausted from all the running.

Whistles echoed in the forest, getting closer with every moment. The idea of escaping suddenly felt so dumb, the realisation painfully getting to him. Alastor knew this forest like the back of his palm - of course, he wasn't going to be worried that his victim would escape.

He cheerfully came closer, looking around like a cat toying with a mouse, pretending not to notice its futile attempts to escape.

He stopped whistling when he found Francis on the ground, crouching down to his level. He placed a hand on his shoulder with a gentle and yet...devious smile.

"My my my, look at you. You're completely out of breath. You look exhausted..."

Francis tried to find his words, but everything that came out was only panting. He couldn't even find the strength to stand back up on his own. He was completely worn out and at Alastor's mercy. "I... I can't... can't run anymore..." He managed to stammer out in between pants, his breaths coming out short and quick.

"Tired already?" Alastor’s voice dripped with mock concern, his fingers tracing Francis’s trembling shoulder like a predator savouring its prey. His smile turned sickly sweet, eyes narrowing in mock disappointment. "Such a shame," he sighed, brushing his fingers lightly over Francis’s skin. "We were just getting started... I had so many games planned for us."

Francis laid his head on the ground, tears starting rolling down his cheeks, as he sobbed, realising this was the end for him.

Alastor chuckled to himself as he noticed the tears rolling down Francis' face. Seeing him crying because of him...pleased him. With a sadistic smile, he put a hand under Francis' chin and lifted his face up, to make him look at him. "Aw...What's wrong, my dear friend? Why are you crying?"

"Please..." he managed to say. "Please, don't..."

Alastor only smiled, leaving his head to fall back on the ground. With a hard kick, he hit the man in the stomach, making him roll over on his back, screaming in pain. "Now, now... No need to make such a fuss..." Alastor's heel dug into his stomach, keeping him in place. He leaned over him, looking down with an overly calm smile.

The man's eyes fell on the big object in his arms, the moonlight making it shine. "You've noticed my pretty little friend here..." He lifted the axe up just a little, waving it from side to side, as a way to taunt him. But Francis didn't react anymore, the last bit of hope in him leaving. He just stood there, looking at the sky, trying to ignore the horrible pain that shot through his body.

Alastor's smile faded slightly, and he huffed in disappointment. "Ah, you're no fun... I expected more of a reaction out of you. I guess you've completely given up at this point."

Alastor raised the axe high, watching as the moonlight glinted off the blade, savouring the moment just before impact, the tension thick in the air. The axe bit deep into Francis’s shoulder, and the forest reverberated with a scream so raw it sent a shiver down Alastor’s spine. He paused for a moment, savouring the sound, his breath catching in the thrill of control. "Ah, there it is," he whispered to himself, almost tenderly, "A voice worth breaking."

He repeated the motion, the axe came down hard on Francis's other shoulder, and with a sickening crack, the bone shattered. The snap echoed through the trees like the snapping of a dry branch, followed by Francis's agonized scream. His body convulsed in shock, blood quickly soaking through his shirt as the jagged ends of his broken clavicle pressed against the torn muscle. Each blow sent shockwaves of pain through Francis’s body, his nerves alight with agony, but there was something worse—the suffocating realization that this was the end, that nothing would stop the next swing from severing the last thread of life clinging to his body.

Alastor's blows became erratic, but Francis's body was unable to react anymore, the shock slowly overcoming it. Slowly, his screams began to fade, the sickening sound of the axe hitting his body slowly conquering them.

Alastor raised the axe high, grinning as he swung it down with all his might toward Francis's neck. The first strike tore through skin and muscle, but it wasn't enough. Francis's head lolled to the side, blood pouring from the jagged wound, his eyes wide and glassy. Alastor, undeterred, pulled the axe out with a wet sound, and swung again. This time, bone crunched, and the head fell, rolling a few inches away from the twitching body.

The silence finally settled back over the forest, as Alastor's ragged breath echoed slightly. He took a few steps back, crouching next to a tree, trying to catch his breath. As the blood pooled around the lifeless body, Alastor’s mind began to wander, the rush of violence slowly melting into something else—something darker. His thoughts turned to you.

The adrenaline pumped through his veins, his skin burning against his clothes, a feeling of arousal slowly filling his body. He palmed his clothed, erected cock, the thought of you finding him like this, even if impossible, intoxicating him.

He wished you'd see what he's done for you, only for you. You deserved to know what kind of man he was, what he was willing to do for you. He’d let you watch, let you decide the fate of those who hurt you. He wasn’t just killing pests—he was erasing anyone who dared to dirty your world. Even if you didn’t ask for it, even if you begged him to stop, he’d continue… because he knew what was best for you.

His breath quickened, heat pooling in his body as his thoughts fixated on you. He convinced himself that you'd understand, that you'd appreciate how far he'd go for you. His hands twitched, craving the touch of something more—of you, of your approval. He leaned back, eyes half-lidded, letting the thought of you fill every corner of his mind. You’d see him for who he really was—the one who protected you, the one who cared for you enough to stain his hands with blood. The idea of you watching him, knowing his devotion, made his pulse race.

A low sound rumbled from his chest as your face flashed through his mind. His breathing grew heavier, the intensity of his fixation on you overwhelming him. His desire wasn’t just physical—it was something more profound, a twisted need for you to see him, to understand why he did this. The violent act itself was for you, and that thought alone pushed him over the edge, his body trembling with dark satisfaction.

This wasn’t just about the kill—it was about you, about proving his devotion in ways no one else could. Bloodied hands meant he was worthy, a protector who'd stain his soul so yours could remain pure. You had to see him, understand him. Only then would you realize how deeply he cared.

A few more pumps, and he finished. His hand slick with cum, a loud moan escaped him, the pleasure crashing through his body. His mind cleared, the intoxicating rush now replaced with a cold, creeping unease. He took deep, ragged breaths, staring at the sticky mess on his hand. For a moment, he allowed himself to linger in the afterglow, the dark warmth of victory washing over him. But the pleasure didn’t last, couldn’t last. It curdled in his chest, the weight of what he’d done sinking in.

Shame gnawed at him, creeping in slowly like a cold fog, wrapping tighter with each breath. At first, he tried to push it away, tried to bask in the satisfaction, but it lingered, curling around his gut, pressing deeper. He had never felt this kind of arousal after a kill before—it felt foreign, wrong in a way that unsettled him. His fist clenched reflexively, trying to dismiss it as adrenaline, a momentary lapse, but there was a darker whisper at the back of his mind. A whisper that told him this feeling wasn’t just a fluke. Maybe, just maybe, this was who he truly was.

At first, the satisfaction drowned out the guilt, a dark warmth spreading through him. But as the adrenaline ebbed, something colder took its place, gnawing at him. This...this wasn’t just about them. It was about you. The thought curdled in his stomach, the lingering pleasure twisting into something he wasn’t ready to face.

"Damn it..." he muttered quietly, wiping the cum on his bloodstained trousers. For a moment, he stood still, his breath uneven, his mind clouded with the lingering thought of you. The fantasy of you accepting this part of him, even enjoying it, clung to his mind like a shadow, but deep down, he knew better. You’d never understand why he did this, why he needed to do this—for you. A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he resigned himself to waiting. He wouldn’t force you, not yet. You could play your part however you wanted, but in the end, it was always going to be him deciding how this game would finish. You might not know it yet, but he would make sure you saw—one way or another.

You looked at your own reflection in the mirror, your eyes scanning your face for every sign that the bruise was still visible. You moved your head from side to side, comparing each cheek just to see if one was more swollen than the other.

It wasn’t the first time you had done this, and a part of you wasn’t sure if it would be the last. You had learned how to hide your scars—painful, vivid reminders of a past you desperately wanted to escape. As you turned your head, you could almost feel the sting of past hands and the echo of past words. Would Alastor’s touch always remain gentle? Or would the softness of his hand one day become something else?

Even if it wasn’t him, it would be someone else—this was your fate. You were destined to serve and nurture him, no matter the pain you might endure.

You looked at your reflection—you were pretty. Especially now that you looked like someone else. You didn’t resemble the waitress who had narrowly escaped assault the night before or the woman who had been abused throughout her childhood. Tonight, you looked like someone who could attend a fancy party without a care in the world.

And if you were honest, you didn't quite dislike it at least for a night.

You checked the clock: 19:35. You've been ready for twenty minutes already. There was not a single thing you could've checked anymore, but where was he?

He wasn't too late, but you expected him to be earlier here. That's why you got ready so fast. But you would've spent a few more minutes inside, just so you wouldn't seem too eager to see him.

But he wasn't here. The anxiety crept on you when you thought that maybe he just lied, to make a fool out of you. Or maybe he was sick, and since he doesn't have your phone number, he couldn't announce you.

You looked at your reflection once again. Would he like you? Maybe it was too much makeup. Maybe you should've done something more discreet. Or maybe it wasn't enough. No, no, less is better. Your products weren't that expensive anyway so putting too much might make you look like a cheap woman.

Your hand ran over the pearls on your neck, as your eyes fell on the other pair you had to choose between. You thought for a moment if you should change them. The simple, white ones were good and classy. But the green ones were more vibrant. No, keep these ones. Classy is better.

He's not coming.

The room suddenly felt warmer as you thought about it. The dress suddenly felt itchy and the shoes were uncomfortable. Maybe you should change them, but you had to try more pairs on to decide... No, it's too late for that.

19:40.

The black gloves on your hands were long, simple, above your elbow. You've seen many actresses wearing them and you really liked it. But... did they make your hands look weird? You looked at your hands. They kind of do, you thought.

19:42.

Maybe you should take them off... But what if everyone wears them? No, you'll take them off there if that's the case. But you should take some rings with you then... To wear them on your bare hands. But maybe...

A knock.

Your heart stopped. You quickly got up, looking around yourself, making sure you didn't forget anything.

Another one.

You ran to the door, glancing into your purse to make sure you had your lipstick.

Another knock.

You open the door. When Alastor finally appeared, his smile felt like a beacon in your swirling sea of anxiety. You couldn't help but smile back, your mind going blank for just a moment. He looked so marvellous in this black suit, a crimson shirt underneath the coat.

As Alastor’s eyes lingered on you, a wave of conflicting emotions surged through you. Could this really be a new beginning? Or was this just another façade, hiding the same pain you had always known?

"You look absolutely ravishing, my dear~" he finally spoke, his smooth voice and charming Southern accent making every word even more pleasant. The warmth of his compliment was a stark contrast to the chill of your past, leaving you to grapple with the uncertainty of whether this moment was a fleeting illusion or a step toward something real. He leaned down as he always does, taking your hand into his, and placing a small kiss on your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours.

You chuckled. "Oh, you’re too kind!"

"Forgive me for being late, my dear. That little ol' car refused to start."

"It's alright," you said locking the door behind you. He took your hand and looped it around his arm, holding you close to his side. As he walked, his eyes occasionally glanced at you, still admiring the way you looked. He chuckled to himself quietly, unable to tear his eyes away.

"You really do look amazing," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "Those pearls, that black dress... and those shoes-" He let out another chuckle, his eyes falling on your shoes. "I have quite a weakness for a woman in nice shoes."

Your cheeks burnt as you tried to content your smile at his words. "You're flattering me... I'm sure every woman there would outshine me in no second."

He huffed in amusement, glancing down at you. "Oh, you are far too humble," he teased, "but I must say, I’m quite happy that you’re the one I’ll have on my arm all night." He paused for a moment, before continuing. "And for the record, I truly doubt any woman there could outshine you, my dear. I’m willing to bet everything on it."

You only smiled at his words as he opened the car door for you. As you stepped into the car, Alastor's eyes followed you, admiring the way you moved, the way the light from the streetlamps hit your face, making your skin glow. He chuckled quietly to himself, before closing the door and making his way around to the driver's side, climbing into the car himself.

As he began to drive, he stole a glance at you, his smile widening slightly. "Feeling nervous, my dear?" he asked.

"A little... I’ve never been to a party like this before," you admitted.

He chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road. "Ah, I see. Well, I can assure you, my dear, this party will be far more interesting than your average ones." He paused for a moment, before continuing. "But don't you worry? I'll be by your side the whole time, you won't have a thing to worry about. I promise."

You smiled at his words, your anxiety wearing off just slightly. You took the pocket mirror from your purse, checking again if the bruise is not visible.

"I must say, you’re quite the makeup artist," he chuckled. "You could probably give those beauty counter girls a run for their money." His voice pulled you from your trance.

"Yes, I... I was inspired by Greta Garbo... I really do appreciate her makeup style."

Alastor turned to you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, Greta Garbo. Classy choice, my dear. She does have that elegant and timeless style." He chuckled and turned back to the road. "But that's not what I meant, darling."

You looked out the window for a moment, thinking of what to say. "It takes time to master hiding bruises... but once you learn, it’s quite a useful trick, isn’t it?" you said, a small smile on your lips as you turned to face him.

He clenched his jaw, his grip on the wheel tightening slightly, the knuckles of his hands turning white. "Yes, I suppose it does..." he said, his voice low. "Although I must say, I'm not particularly fond of the reason for learning those tricks."

"Well... It's always good for a woman to have some tricks in the sleeve... for a reason or not."

Alastor huffed, his eyes darting to you for a moment before returning to the road. "Perhaps you’re right... but I still don’t like it. I don’t like the idea of a woman having to conceal her pain like that." He paused, his grip on the wheel tightening once more. "It bothers me, my dear. More than you can imagine."

Your eyes never left him. You rarely heard men talk like this and something told you it wasn't just an act - not just a game to try and earn your trust.

"There it is," you heard him say, his smile returning. He pulled the car to the side, his eyes returning to you as you scanned the somewhat concealed building, muffled jazz music drifting from inside. You could see some people at the entrance, talking and drinking, their exquisite attire making you feel a bit self-conscious.

"Don’t worry, my dear," he said softly, making you turn your attention to him. "You won’t have to worry about a thing inside."

You nodded and waited as Alastor got out of the car and walked over to your side. He opened the door for you, offering a hand to help you out. He chuckled as you stepped out, his eyes taking in the full view of your dress and the way it hugged your figure. "You really do look beautiful, my dear..." he murmured, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

You made your way inside, as Alastor walked by your side, his hand hovering gently on the small of your back as he guided you to the entrance. He spoke to the bouncer, a word or two exchanged between them, before the bouncer nodded and moved out of the way, allowing you both to step inside.

As you walked in, Alastor leaned down slightly, his voice a soft whisper in your ear. "Just stick with me, my dear. I'll take care of everything."

As you step inside, the room greets you with a haze of cigarette smoke and the rich, brassy pulse of jazz. The low murmur of laughter and clinking glasses fills the air, blending with the lively swing of a trumpet from the corner stage. Dim lighting casts shadows across the faces of well-dressed men and women, their pearls gleaming in the smoky glow, flappers in silk dresses twirling on the dance floor. The scent of cheap whiskey and perfume merges into the heady atmosphere. You feel the electricity in the air—a sense of freedom, rebellion, and secrecy as if you’ve entered a hidden world.

"It's a speakeasy, right?" you asked as Alastor leaned in to hear you more clearly.

"Yes, my dear," he said, his lips brushing gently against your ear. "One of the more elegant ones, if I do say so myself."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as you stepped into the speakeasy for the first time, despite the knowledge of its illicit nature. The thrill of the forbidden, coupled with the allure of the hidden world before you, made your heart race with both anticipation and a hint of nervousness.

As you and Alastor made your way through the speakeasy, his eyes scanned the crowded hall, taking in the sights and sounds. It wasn’t long before something caught his attention—a lively figure in the middle of the room, surrounded by a small group of admirers. Alastor recognized her instantly: Mimzy.

Alastor’s grip on your back tightened as he observed Mimzy. Dressed in a dazzling silver dress with intricately curled blonde hair, her laughter echoed through the room. A group of men hung on her every word.

Alastor leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear. "You see that woman over there?" he murmured, his eyes never leaving Mimzy. You looked in the crowd, as your face lit up at the sight.

"Is that... really Mimzy?"

Alastor nodded."Indeed it is, my dear," he confirmed, his voice low. "She's quite the social butterfly, isn't she?"

"Can I... Can I meet her?" you asked, like an excited child.

"Of course, my dear," he said, his hand gently guiding you towards where Mimzy was standing. "But I must warn you, Mimzy can be a bit... much."

Your smile grew wider as you approached. "Oh, Alastor... I've always wanted to meet her!"

He led you towards the group of people around Mimzy. The woman's sharp eyes caught sight of you both, a smile immediately lighting up on her face.

"Well, well, well!" Mimzy said, her eyes darting between you and Alastor. "Alastor, fancy seeing you here!"

Alastor chuckled, his charismatic smile never faltering. “Mimzy, it’s been quite a while.” The group around her dispersed quickly, the men obviously intimidated by Alastor's presence, but Mimzy stayed put, her eyes locked on yours.

“And who is this lovely lady you have with you~?” She questioned, tilting her head.

Alastor chuckled, his hand still gently resting on your back. "This lovely lady is my companion for the evening," he said, his smile never once wavering. Mimzy's eyes darted to you, taking in your appearance. Her eyebrows raised slightly as she looked you up and down. She stepped a little closer, a sly smirk on her face. “You know, Alastor, you never told me you had a lady.” She chuckled, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her eyes flickering between the two of you.

Your cheeks started to burn at her remark, the way she was acting as if you weren't even there made you feel a little insignificant. Alastor could sense where Mimzy was going with this, and he wasn't particularly thrilled about it. He tightened his grip on your back ever so slightly. "That's because it hadn't come up in conversation," he said, his voice still polite but cool.

Mimzy laughed, her eyes still on you. “Oh, Alastor, you’re such a gentleman. Not one to kiss and tell, are you?” She stepped even closer, almost pressing up against you. “And what’s your name sweetheart? You seem far too pretty to be with someone like Alastor.”

You smiled politely at her. "My name is (Y/n). It's quite a pleasure to finally meet you! I've always been a fan."

Alastor's eyes flicked between you and Mimzy, his smile still in place but his patience was starting to wear thin. Mimzy let out an exaggerated gasp, her hand coming up to her chest, a fake look of shock on her face. "A fan, sweetie? Well, I'm flattered, really, I am. But how on earth did you end up with Alastor of all people?"

You were taken aback by her question, looking up at Alastor as if asking for some help, and you could slightly see his eye twitching as he eyes the woman.

"Um... We..." you started, not sure if you should tell how you two actually met. But before you could continue, he took a step forward, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "That's none of your concern, Mimzy," he said, his voice as polite as always, but with an undercurrent of steel.

Mimzy's eyes widened slightly as Alastor pulled you closer to him, a small frown tugged at the corner of her mouth. "My, my, Alastor, there's no need to get all defensive on me, I'm just simply trying to get to know your companion." She looked you up and down once more, her eyes lingering on Alastor's arm that was wrapped around you. "The two of you make an... interesting couple."

You looked away as you could feel the mockery in her voice. Alastor's smile faltered for a moment, his grip on you tightening imperceptibly. He knew Mimzy's intentions all too well. She was trying to get a rise out of him, and he was not going to give her the satisfaction. "We make a perfect couple," he said, his voice smooth but with an underlying menace. "And our business is no concern of yours, Mimzy.”

He leaned towards you. "Now, my dear, why don't we go order something?"

Alastor gently steered you away from Mimzy, who stood there with a mix of surprise and irritation on her face. He led you away towards the bar, ordering a drink for himself and a non-alcoholic cocktail for you. As he waited, his arm still around your waist, he turned to you.

"I apologize for Mimzy," he said, his voice low. You smiled softly, trying to stop thinking about it.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer her question about how we met... I didn't want to embarrass you," you said slightly, looking in the crowd.

Alastor chuckled softly, his arm giving you a gentle squeeze. "No need for apologies, my dear," he said, his voice low and amused. "I appreciate your consideration, but nothing is embarrassing about how we met. Mimzy just can't help but meddle in things that don’t concern her.”

You smiled at him as the bartender brought the drinks. "I'll be back in a moment, dear. Some associates are waiting for me," he said as he rubbed your back, walking towards a small group of men.

You turned your attention to Mimzy as she approached you, she stood beside you, leaning against the bar. "So," she said, her voice falsely cheerful. "I have to ask, sweetie. How'd you and Alastor meet?"

You smiled for a moment, thinking of an answer. Lying wasn't really an option as you would probably be easily caught with that, so you figured the truth, embarrassing for Alastor or not, would be the best. "We met at a diner..." you said bluntly, hoping that would satisfy her.

Mimzy's eyebrows raised in surprise, obviously not expecting such a mundane answer. "A diner? How... mundane. You're telling me you're dating Alastor - the most notorious and desired bachelor in the town - because you met him at a diner?"

You cleared your throat, looking at the coloured liquid in your glass. "We're not... dating."

Mimzy's eyebrows shot up in surprise once more, her interest piqued. "Wait, wait, wait," she said, stepping closer to you. "You're not dating? Don't tell me you hooked up with him or something?" She raised an eyebrow, silently judging you.

You frowned your eyebrows at her. "What? No..." you protested. "I..."

Mimzy smirked, a wicked gleam in her eye. "So, you’re just another notch on his belt? How charming." She chuckled, taking a sip from her drink. "Do you know how many girls have come and gone, thinking Alastor would fall in love with them? Oh, sweetie, the list is endless."

You looked away, your eyes kind of watery at her words.

Mimzy smirked as she saw your sudden change in expression. "Oh, don't tell me you thought differently? Alastor's a notorious ladies' man. He'll get what he wants from you, and then toss you aside like everyone else." She chuckled, taking another sip from her drink. .long list of conquests, sweetie."

"Mimzy?" Alastor's voice echoed from behind you, making her eyes widen in surprise.

"Alastor! I was just having a little chat with your... friend here."

"Quite the chat, I presume?" he asked, feigning nonchalance, but you could see the anger seeping through his calm expression.

"Well... I think I should go... It was quite the chat, dearie!" she said, quickly disappearing in the crowd, as your attention returned to the drink in front of you.

Alastor watched as Mimzy scurried off, a scoff leaving his lips. He hated the way she acted. His gaze returned to you, a frown on his face as he saw the downcast look on yours. He placed his hand on your back, gently rubbing a small circle between your shoulder blades. "Are you alright, my dear?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving the glass, not daring to look at him as your eyes threatened to spill a few tears.

He moved closer to you, his hand still rubbing your back, his other hand coming to gently rest on your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. "Hey... look at me," he murmured, his voice soft and gentle, his expression filled with concern. "How about we go somewhere else?" he suggested and you nodded. The last thing you wanted was to break down here in front of so many people.

He gave a firm nod, and his hand moved to the small of your back, gently guiding you towards the exit. He led you out into the cool night air, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close.

As you walked away from the bustling speakeasy, he led you to the car, helping you get inside. He slid into the driver's seat, starting the car. He glanced at you, noticing your downcast expression. He reached over, gently grabbing your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

Hey," he said softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "You know, you can talk to me, right? Whatever Mimzy said..."

"She said nothing... We just chatted for a bit..." you said, your eyes still on the window. He sighed and started driving, silence falling over you.

"Mimzy... can be a handful sometimes," he finally spoke."Don't listen to her words, my dear. She doesn't know the first thing about our relationship." You slightly looked at him for a moment, the "our relationship" feeling so wrong right now, but you stayed quiet.

You notice he takes a forest road, your heartbeat increasing slightly. "Where... where are we going?"

He glanced at you for a moment, noticing the slight change in your expression. He could sense your anxiety. "Somewhere more quiet," he answered, his voice calm and gentle. "A place where we can talk... without interruptions." The car slowly continued down the forest road, the only sound was the soft hum of the engine and the crunch of the gravel beneath the wheels.

You took one of your gloves off, playing with it as your mind raced. For a moment, the worst scenarios flooded your brain and the idea that there was nothing you could do was sending shivers down your spine.

The car came to a stop in what looked like a bayou. It was quite secluded and away from any passersby.

"We're here," he said, his voice soft, as he turned to look at you. You looked around, your eyebrows slightly furrowed. The place was beautiful, with fireflies dancing in the moonlight as it filtered through the dense foliage. The gentle sound of water lapping against the banks added to the serene, almost magical ambience of the setting.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" His hand gently squeezed yours. "Come on." He opened the door and exited the car, walking around to your side and opening the door for you.

You cautiously got out, the chill air biting at your exposed sleeves. You took a few steps, and your eyes locked on a bush. You got a bit closer, only to be met with the sight of a few deers, peacefully grazing.

"Looks like we've got some company," he said quietly, watching as you got closer to the deer, snapping you out of your trance. He placed his coat around your shoulders, the warmth engulfing your body.

"What is this place?" you asked, turning to face him.

"This place," he said, his voice soft and tranquil. "Is a special place. A place where I come to... think, to be alone." He paused for a moment, his eyes fixed on yours. "I thought you might like it. It's quiet, calming, and... away from prying eyes."

You stepped back a bit. "Alastor... you got the wrong idea..." you whispered, looking at the ground.

He tensed slightly as you stepped back, a frown forming on his face. His smile faltered for a moment, surprised by your words. "What do you mean, my dear?" he asked, his voice slightly shaky. He stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what was going through your mind.

You sighed, trying to find your words. "Mimzy told me about... the choice of women you have," you said. "It's really not my interest to be here... just for a few nights."

His frown deepened as you mentioned Mimzy's words. He knew exactly what she might have told you and it angered him. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Is that what you think this is about?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and irritation. "You think you’re just another notch on my list?"

"If I'm being honest..." you said, freeing yourself from your grasp and making your way to the car, leaning against it. "I've only known you for a week... We haven't even talked outside of the diner. You can't blame for getting the wrong impression."

He took a step closer to you, his arms crossed over his chest. "You're right," he said, his voice slightly cold. "We haven't known each other for long. And yes, maybe you misunderstood my intentions." He paused for a moment, his eyes studying you intensely. "But is that really all you think I see you as? Just another one of my conquests?"

You looked down, a tear falling down your cheek. "What else could there be...?" you whispered.

"You honestly believe I brought you here just to use you and toss you aside?" he asked, his voice laced with indignation. "You think I'm that shallow, that callous?"

"I don't know, Alastor!" you snapped as you broke down. "Every damn man I met wanted nothing more from me! Should I even expect anything more?" your eyes opened wide as you realised you shouldn't have raised your tone. You quickly looked away, preparing yourself for the worst. But no pain came your way. No harsh words.

He took another step towards you, his hand gently caressing your face. "I'm not those... pathetic excuses for men, you've dealt with before, my dear."

You sighed. "I was supposed to marry someone... someone my father wanted, but I didn't..." you said. "He was rich, smart... any woman's dream... And I actually tried to get used to the idea... He nearly put me in a coma because I refused to be with him while he was drunk." A soft sob escaped your lips. "My parents disowned me... Called me a failure because I refused to be a punchbag like I was my entire life..."

You rested your head against his chest, Alastor's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. He felt your tears dampen his shirt, but he didn't care. Your words, the memories of your past abuse, hit him hard. He remembered the fear his mother felt, the pain she endured, just like you had. It made his heart ache and his anger flare.

"A woman's job is to obey..." you whispered. "That's what my father told me while I was in the hospital... Luckily, the bastard died before the wedding..."

He cupped your face with one hand, forcing you to look up at him. "You don't have to endure any more pain, my dear." His thumb gently brushed away a tear from your cheek. "Not anymore." Alastor’s gaze was intense, sending shivers down your spine. “I will take care of you, my dear. Like no one ever has before.”

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @starryhiraeth @lafy-taffy @harmfulb1tch @martinys-world @n0tmentallystable @xalygatorx @venusdandy @l3rittany @eris-norwega @maulsgf

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Future Plans

Pairing: Dark Steve Rogers x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Steve has a desire to have a family and you’re no one to stop him. 

WARNINGS: Non-con; Implied Kidnapping; Forced Pregnancy. 

AN: First time writing non-con, so let me know how this is. This is a small gift for reaching 900 followers, thank you guys! Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

“No! Stop it!” you cry out but to no avail. Steve keeps fucking you against the matress with rough thrusts, his pelvis hitting your own in a painful way that makes you squeal.

You’re dry as a desert and it only makes your pain worse, his massive cock drilling your weak pussy. His hands hold down your wrists, his handsome face contorted with wicked pleasure as his sweat drips down to your face. 

The bed squeaks with every movement, continuously hitting the wall behind it. The tears keep wetting your face as you’re unable to control yourself. You hate him so much, you just want him to leave you alone. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m getting so close.” he groans, eyes rolling with satisfaction. Steve tries to kiss you, but you turn your head so his lips kiss your skin instead, sucking and spreading his disgusting saliva all over you. 

“I’m gonna give you a kid, how about that?” he grunts, moving a hand to grab your face, forcing you to stare at him. Horror fills every inch of your body, the little hope you had for yourself starting to disappear.

“No, no…” you regain energy as you strongly try to push Steve away from you. A child is the least thing you need right now.

He only chuckles, followed by a moan and he thrusts into you harder, eyes glinting with intense emotion. Lust, madness.

“You’re gonna be so heavy with my kid that you won’t be able to stand properly, much less run away. I’m gonna fuck a baby into you. Fuck, yes.” Steve mutters, his thrusts getting more erratic and violent as he keeps talking. 

“I’ll always keep you pregnant, heavy and full of my babies. That’s going to be so nice, isn’t it?” tears keep running down your face and you’re not sure if it’s because of his aggressive way of fucking you or because of deranged his plans. 

He fucks you relenlessly until he suddenly halts, a loud moan escaping his lips as the buries his face on your face. Steve crashes down on top of you, his weight making it harder for you to breathe but he doesn’t seem to notice you trying to get away from him.

Instead, he kisses your neck and takes a deep breath, pushing his cock until you can’t take more of him. Some white cum drips down your pussy and down your thighs, the feeling is gross and you can’t wait to clean it all.

He seems to have read your mind because he hugs you, twisting your body so that you’re caged back into his arms, his cock still buried inside you. 

“No cleaning, babe, we gotta make sure it sticks. We should have a little one in nine months.” Steve declares, tilting his hips upwards, as he kisses the top of your sweaty head.

You close your eyes, hoping to wake up next morning and find out it’s all just a big nightmare. 

It’s not and in nine months, you find yourself holding a tiny baby as Steve fervoulsy kisses your forehead, thanking you for giving him such a beautiful bundle of joy. 

[baddestbittyontheblock]

february fic recs (1/2)

✦ dividers by @saradika-graphics, @gigittamic ✦

Ⳋ᧙ hi everyone!! i've read a ton of fics this month, so i hope you all enjoy my faves of february!! Ⳋ᧙ ⑅part 2⑅

I made 2 post's for february cause it was too long lol

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each incredible writer!! ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

Ⳋ᧙ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings Ⳋ᧙

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ also, if you’d like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

women's soccer

alexia putellas

❀᧓ when i break, it’s in a million pieces (1/3) by @girlgenius1111 alexia x putellas!reader

-the pressure on reader is intense, from her sister more than anyone. an injury pushes her to her breaking point. desperate not to let her sister down, reader struggles under the weight of her injury.

❀᧓ shining just for you (2/3) by ^ alexia + barça & putellas!reader

-reader only gets worse. alexia gets frustrated. a much needed conversation is attempted.

❀᧓ all i do is try, try, try (3/3) by ^ alexia putellas x putellas!reader

-alexia and reader finally talk.

❀᧓ young, drunk, and alone by ^ alexia putellas x putellas!reader | angst, fluff, brief mentions of blood and vomiting. and alcohol consumption, 6k

-reader infuriates her sister when she sneaks out and gets drunk with her friends. alexia comes to realize that maybe, this is a result of her pushing you too hard.

❀᧓ you come back from gravity by ^ alexia putellas x reder | angst, fluff

-alexia and reader have an argument. reader misunderstands, and when alexia leaves to calm down, she thinks she's going for good.

❀᧓ annoyances by @sunnyaelia alexia putellas x reader | pure fluff, reader being a little shit

-alexia forces you to come with her to a photo shoot and a meeting while you’re tired - you’re intent on making her regret it 

❀᧓ matches and hickeys by ^ alexia putellas x reader | mostly fluff and then suggestive at the end, not meant for minors!

-alexia is very proud to take you with her to a match - until one of her opponents starts flirting with you 

❀᧓ jealously and sisterhood by ^ alexia putellas x reader | angst

-alexia and you are dating and she is happy that you get along with her sister alba so well - until people start thinking you and alba are a thing. in her effort to keep you away from her sister, she drives a wedge in between you and her relationship

❀᧓ listener and talker by ^ alexia putellas x reader | grumpy x sunshine trope but a very mild version of it

-you always think that you talk too much for alexia to listen to everything - she proves otherwise 

❀᧓ listener and talker 2 by ^ alexia putellas x reader | pure fluff

-alexia continues to be cute and you try to match her actions and do some things for her

❀᧓ insecurities and drunk talks by ^ alexia putellas x reader | talks about body insecurities and then wanting to change body image, nothing heavy or detailed though and it’s about gaining muscles not losing weight! also non sexual nudity and suggestive comments, 18+ please 

-alexia tries to tease you by not initiating any physical contact anymore - she doesn’t expect that you might misunderstand it and withdraw from her as a result 

❀᧓ laps and regret by ^ alexia putellas x reader | this contains descriptions of reader almost throwing up and non sexual nudity 

-in her efforts to hide your relationship to the others on the team, alexia overdoes it during training and is way too strict on you - it has consequences 

❀᧓ delay by @awfcspencer alexia putellas x reader | mdni 18+ only, smut with basically no plot. dom!alexia, sub!reader, fingering, strap-ons, praise kink, dirty talk, choking, orgasm denial

-flight cancellation isn’t ideal, especially when you had been teasing alexia all day.

❀᧓ dancing with the devil (1/3) by @pers1st alexia putellas x singer!reader | mentions of drugs and alcohol

-meeting alexia hadn't been an accident. if anything, meeting anyone, for you, was an accident, because more often than not, people were screaming into your face, demanding pictures and autographs and spinning theories about your private life that you were pretty sure could be considered conspiracies.

❀᧓ painkillers (2/3) by ^ alexia putellas x singer!reader | alcohol & drug abuse

-if lois noticed the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, he didn't mention it. you turned the radio on from the control in the back, desperate to escape the whistling thoughts in your head.

❀᧓ afterglow (3/3) by ^ alexia putellas x singer!reader | mentions of OD

-keira was taken away first. alexia noticed it as she marched across the damp pitch, a winter coat shielding her body from the cool wind, her body glistening with sweat.

❀᧓ bittersweet by @barcaatthemoon alexia putellas x reader

-the roar of the crowd was deafening. spain had won, and while you were so proud of alexia, you couldn't bring yourself to move to congratulate her.

❀᧓ testy by @acornsquish alexia putellas x reader | smut, 18+ minors dni, AFAB reader, cunnilingus, fingering, begging, restraints, D/S undertones, orgasm control

-you're in a terrible mood, for no particular reason. you know exactly what would help, but your girlfriend's been insanely busy for weeks, and you don't want to ask for what you need and put one more thing on her plate. alexia figures it out anyways.

❀᧓ broken by @ale-wosofan alexia putellas x reader | little bit of angst (+fluff), implied adhd

-reader is struggling but she’s not sure why or how to fix it. will she finally be honest with her girlfriend about how she’s feeling?

❀᧓ reliance by @leahluvr alexia putellas x reader | angst, comfort

-your newborn son won’t go to sleep

❀᧓ spoiled rotten by @wileys-russo alexia putellas x reader | fluff

-"only me!" you called out as you stepped through the front door, immediately nearly crashing to the floor over a pair of your girlfriends sneakers she'd left laying in the way.

❀᧓ caught on camera by ^ alexia putellas x putellas!reader

-"where are you going? the field is that way hermana."

❀᧓ open your eyes by @magics-neptunes-things alexia putellas x reader

-alexia. you’ve known her since you were a little girl. you met her when the ball she was playing with ended up in your backyard and she came looking for it, half hidden behind her father.

❀᧓ between us by @alexias-putellas alexia putellas x reader x jenni hermoso

-you’d had a crush on alexia from the moment you’d laid eyes on her the day you signed your barcelona contract. she was pretty and kind. and unfortunately, taken.

aitana bonmatí

❀᧓ sleepyhead by @storiesforthemoonchild aitana bonmatí x reader

-breakfast was always loud with the team, and you loved it.

❀᧓ clingy by @alexias-putellas aitana bonmatí x reader | fluffy

-with a heaved sigh, you pushed open the apartment door, dragging your suitcase in behind you. the quiet humming you could hear stopped and was replaced by the sound of footsteps.

❀᧓ beach babe by @princejiu aitana bonmatí x reader

-the barca girls spots a beach babe and aitana is immediately in love

jessie fleming

❀᧓ you've been missed by @lovinpelova jessie fleming x reader | smut

-jessie feels a bit more lonely than usual, so she makes sure you get home earlier.

leila ouahabi

❀᧓ eyes on me by @repulsiveliquidation leila ouahabi x reader | smut

-the sun shines through the hotel room in malta. leila has her arm wrapped around your middle with a tight grip on you.

mapi leon

❀᧓ don't doubt us by @girlgenius1111 ingrid x mapi x reader | 18+ smut!

-reader gets sick. mapi and ingrid get overprotective. reader pushes herself too hard, but her girlfriends know what she needs better than she does

ingrid engen

❀᧓ ingrid blurb by @wileys-russo ingrid engen x reader

-"i didn't know you switched numbers"

❀᧓ inside everything by @retrocesosdestacion ingrid engen x reader | smut, minor disastrous, +18 writting, semi-public sex, touching, fingering, r sub, maybe a bit realistic, did not reach the limit, half sex, almost caught.

-It's shopping day, however you are very doubtful on which denim shorts you are going to acquire.

❀᧓ don't doubt us by @girlgenius1111 ingrid x mapi x reader | 18+ smut!

-reader gets sick. mapi and ingrid get overprotective. reader pushes herself too hard, but her girlfriends know what she needs better than she does

alessia russo

❀᧓ mornings with you by @mrchiipchrome alessia russo x reader | suggestive, 1.4k

-early morning rays of sun peeked in through the blinds as your girlfriend admired your features lit up by the soft glow of the rays. alessia’s blonde hair was splayed over the pillow, her finger tracing soft shapes into the skin of your arm. 

❀᧓ puzzle book by @wileys-russo alessia russo x reader

-cute little blurb about being on camp in spain with less

jenni hermoso

❀᧓ homecoming by @girlgenius1111 jenni hermoso x reader | smut! 18+

-jenni returns from a trip without you, intent on reminding you of who you belong to. you are only interested in proving to her that you've forgotten who is in charge.

❀᧓ between us by @alexias-putellas alexia putellas x reader x jenni hermoso

-you’d had a crush on alexia from the moment you’d laid eyes on her the day you signed your barcelona contract. she was pretty and kind. and unfortunately, taken.

❀᧓ caught by @barcaatthemoon jenni hermoso x reader | minors dni, 18+, smut

-you and jenni get caught breaking one the team's "no hotel sex" rule.

ona batlle

❀᧓ scratches down your back now by @alessiasfreckles one batlle x reader | smut 18+, dom!ona, sub!reader, fingering (r receiving), strap (r receiving), back scratching, dirty talk, degradation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise kink

-you just want ona to use you, and she's more than happy to do so.

men's soccer

jude bellingham

❀᧓ tainted memories by @anadiasmount jude bellingham x reader | angst? smut and fluff, minors dni, 3.6k

-breaking up wasn’t apart of the plan. so was also inviting him to your friends party, but now that he’s back after seven months, a little rekindle never hurts anyone, right?

❀᧓ not what you think by ^ jude bellingham x reader | 2.1k

-a club filled with many girls but the one he wants is standing in the dance floor, his best friends little sister. he shouldn’t be thinking the way he does, but something about seeing you doing something he never thought and imagined has his mind racing with thoughts that were forbidden…

❀᧓ a love that feels right by @judethsluvr brother’s bsf!jude bellingham x fem!reader | 18+ minors dni

-“you know you don’t have to share a tent with me—in fact i’d be happy to have one for myself, just saying.”

❀᧓ just a fan by @mufcjb jude bellingham x reader | just slight angst, appearances from Camavinga and Vini Jr

-a security guard at one of jude’s games mistakes you for a fan.

❀᧓ wag in training by ^ jude bellingham x reader | insecurities, body image issues, brief mentions of lack of eating,very angsty

-reader is insecure about her capabilities of being a wag and feeling like she doesn’t fit in, especially after seeing the others at the world cup.

❀᧓ la playa by @moviestarmartini jude bellingham x latina!reader | really short instagram aus at both the beginning and the end, situationship where they both clearly fell for each other but won't discuss it, pet names in spanish, NSFW, semi-public sex, soft dom!jude if you squint, teasing, p in v, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all), creampie, cockwarming, fluff (aka two big goofs in love), 2.0k

-situationship!jude asked to spend the summer vacations with you. he's been looking at you with something other than his hungry eyes for some time now.

❀᧓ ballroom extravaganza by @leviscolwill jude bellingham x f1 driver!reader | jude is jealous, reader drives for mclaren w lando, possible racing inconstancies (i can't drive to save my life), reader crashes (nothing too bad happens tho), gasly slander, language ??, quite angsty but happy (&fluffy) endin, 1.7k

-you always hated arguing with jude, but even more so when you're about to race monaco's streets

❀᧓ watermelon sugar by @judeswhore jude bellingham x fem!reader | 18+, minors dni, oral (f), pussy drunk jude??

-jude just can’t get enough of you

bridgerton

anthony bridgerton

❀᧓ bridgerton blues by @imthebadguyyy anthony bridgerton x reader | smut, heavy smut and excessive amount of fluff

-it's the first time after your wedding that anthony sees you sporting the signature bridgerton colour : blue, and it does things to him that he can only express in a much more....physical manner.

❀᧓ truth or dare by @ithebookhoarder anthony bridgerton x wife!reader | alcohol, mild smut, swearing, anthony losing his mind, typical bridgerton sibling shenanigans 

-married only a few months, you are very much one of the bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... also known as, you, benedict and eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far. 

❀᧓ to lose yourself by @frost-queen anthony bridgerton x reader

-you and anthony have an intense moment in the library at lady danbury's ball. It leads to full on kissing till his sister daphne enters shockingly. teasingly she starts telling you to duel her just like anthony once did with simon.

call of duty

simon riley

❀᧓ drabble by @truetogaia simon riley x reader

-simon keeps his late girlfriend's things long after her passing.

❀᧓ simon fic by @lunarw0rks simon riley x gn!reader | nsfw + sfw, established relationship, smut/fluff, shower sex, hurt/comfort, 1.1k

-reader using their safe word for the first time with ghost

❀᧓ picture by @peachesofteal simon riley x fem!reader | 18+ minors dni, pregnancy, pregnant reader, blow job, praise kink, blood, violence, injury, ptsd, anxiety, trust issues. simon is bad at feelings. soap is a good friend. POV switches

-soap gives simon a picture.

❀᧓ simon blurb by @hecateslore dad!simon x mom!reader

-a working mom who comes home to a retired papa!simon

❀᧓ smut blurb by @shotmrmiller pornstar!ghost x fem!reader | 18+, smut

-pornstar!ghost who can't seem to ever keep his hands to himself whenever you're around, even when about to film.

[girlwithadragonheart]

Leave Me to the Beasts and Bears

Halsin x Female Reader

Summary: Halsin overhears you singing about your struggles as a woman in the world. Comfort ensues

Word Count: 1,274

Warnings: Paris Paloma song, mentions of rape, assault, SA, graphic flashbacks, this fic is very graphic and intense read at your discretion!!! (I love you don't trigger yourself unless you know it's okay) This is a hurt/comfort because I need it

A/N: This song has been looping in my mind for days, and it really highlights womanhood. Also this is my personal experiences all roped together if you don't like it keep scrolling.

BG3 Masterlist

You had been staying with the Grove for quite a while, and no one seemed to mind. You brought light and life to the druids with your music, and you had become a welcome addition to the lovely place. You had found a quiet overlook next to the inner sanctum and often found yourself drawn there for the peace it brought you.

Your fingers danced idly across your lute strings, humming softly to yourself and the surrounding life.

Halsin heard your melodic voice and found himself drawn to you. Tucked just behind you out of sight. Not that it mattered as your eyes fluttered closed.

Cremate me… Deliver me to safety. So that when it’s spent maybe it will be my own.

Scatter ashes… Leave no marker where you plant it. So the hordes will be disbanded as they search on a treasure map for my headstone.

The druid’s brow furrowed as he heard the softness of your voice carrying solemn words. Little did he know what exactly was on your mind.

Leave me to the beasts and bears. I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or request to be buried on top.

Leave me for a day or two, to make sure that I turn blue. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again…

Your throat felt tight. You saw them in your mind’s eye. You felt their hands on your skin, calluses scraping against you, nails digging into your arms. Your knees hit the ground with such force they cracked, and you cried out in pain. No one came. Heavy and hard hands ripped your blouse, exposing your chest for predatory eyes.

I’ll tattoo it, just so they think it’s ruined. And if they think it’s ruined, it’s easier to save. But please hurry, if you really love me, and dispose of me unceremoniously in the waves.

You heard the water lapping at the shore as your chest tightened with that familiar panic. Every time you dreamt about it or someone touched you close enough you were brought back to it again and again for days on end. No matter how far you ran, their eyes would always follow you. Their skin was tainting yours no matter where you went. Chest to chest unwilling, but appeasing.

You remembered their fingers carding through your hair, tugging it roughly from your scalp. You remembered how they put it to their lips and breathed in your scent. 

Leave me to the trees and air, I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or buy cuttings of my priceless locks.

Leave me for two days or three, ‘til my fingertips turn green. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again.

Those rough hands gripped your jaw, forcing your mouth open as silent tears flew down your cheeks. Even if you screamed, no one would hear you. If they did, no one would save you. You were alone. Just the way they preferred.

The other hand traveled to their belt buckle. You heard the metal clanging in your ears as though cymbals were clashing next to your head. It was past the point of warning bells and alarms, you were in it and you wouldn’t get away before… before…

And they will come in such dismay, that they never did discover where I lay. And I will burn, my flesh and form. Screaming the words, “it will never be yours!”

I’ll take the flame over desecration, promise you’ll make all these arrangements. Don’t you dare think it’s overkill!

I wouldn’t wish the watching on anybody, so if for that reason only, swear to me you will!

Halsin watched you stand, and he heard the tears clogging your throat. He watched you scream these words out to the sea, and he felt his own throat close up. Memories of the Underdark and the drow couple started to surface in his mind. Maybe it was the words or the emotions, but what he thought of fondly started to seem less than. He heard you sniffle, and suddenly he felt those restraints on his wrists and ankles again. He felt them touching him, and his mind wanted to trick him into enjoying it. It wanted to appease his captors and draw pleasure where he could, but this… 

He was watching you break, and for the first time it was like looking in the mirror. For the first time he could see someone else breaking and recognize himself in them. 

And you choked up, feeling suffocated by the memory. You’ll never forget what it felt like. What it tasted like. The weight, the heat, the flavor, the intrusion was forever branded on your mind, body, and soul. It would always be there.

Leave me to the beasts and bears. I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or request to be buried on top. 

Leave me for a day or two, to make sure that I turn blue. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again.

It was barely a melody at this point. More a choked whisper as you fell to your knees, lute laying still on the ground.

You felt the phantom soreness of every event, every time your body was used for someone else's desires. You heard every word of pleasure and longing that had ever passed to your ears. You felt their hands as they groped and poked and prodded even when you said no. Thousands upon thousands of strangers touching you. Friends touching you. Family touching you, and you couldn’t make them stop. 

But it’s fine because they love you. No! No more. This is not alright, I’m not alright. I’m not alright, I’m not, but no one understands, and no one will even listen, and I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe!

Strong arms wrap around you, trying to hold you together, but you’re falling apart freely with no air resistance, and the only thing stopping you is the embrace of warmth and strength and the smell of the earth. You didn’t realize you were screaming. You only thought you were crying, but you didn’t realize how much. 

Not until Halsin collapsed next to you and pulled you into his embrace. 

“I know,” he said softly. “I know.”

You felt his salty tears against your neck as you turned into him, arms wrapping around his neck. Your hands clawed at him desperately, trying to breathe in his safety and comfort all the while he tried to take yours. Kindred spirits, twin flames, two souls having walked the same path, and all you could do was hold onto each other for the ride and pray that you would make it to the other side.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“As am I.” His arms encompass you completely, holding you together. His large hands cover your back almost entirely, as though he’s attempting to shield you from your past with his large frame. You allow yourself this brief respite. After everything you’ve endured, you haven’t recovered, and you aren’t sure that you ever will.

It’s of small comfort to you that someone of Halsin’s size and stature knows the pain you’ve endured and has experienced it for himself. But you don’t know those circumstances. Perhaps he is only so large and muscular to protect what he couldn’t in the past. Perhaps he hopes to protect you in the same way.

Either way you are glad he is here.

“You are safe here,” He told you. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Are you guys okay after that? I'm not. Whew.

Have a good night <3

Tag List: @leiotyp

As always let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Requests are open!

[voxmortuus]

Hi! Can I please make a request?

If yes: thank you!

Could you write Hannibal giving his male!reader a blowjob?

Thank you and I hope you have a good day!

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Hannibal x M!Reader ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Hannibal ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ See above ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 480 ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ PWP | Male Oral | Male Finish | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I hope this finds you well. Pretty basic request. Thank you for an easy porn without plot request was easy to bust out. Sorry it took so long had family over yesterday. Hope you enjoy ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist *̥˚✧

Never sloppy, this man was a professional even in intimate moments. However, the only reason why he was on his knees in front of you and not the other way around was because he lost a bet. He wasn't a sports fan, and you knew that you took advantage of the situation, and now you were being rewarded. It wasn't every day he lost a bet either, but, that being said, you were immensely enjoying what you felt was a well-deserved reward.

As the hot shower water adds to the pleasure, you look down, watching as his lips form perfectly around you, savoring the flesh, making sure you are well tended to. The stroke of his hand, the bob of his head, the attention to the little details. How you could feel the tension and tautness of the lips to add that perfect amount of pressure around, tight but not too tight.

You hang your head back as you enjoy this moment. The subtle stroke of his hand as his mouth glides along your slick stiffened flesh. Of course, he knew what he was doing, and you were bearing witness to it now.

Looking back down you watch as his lips move along the side of your cock, the length from base to tip, his tongue curled around the underside of your shaft, the way he moved along the side and wrapped around back to the tip only to press your head between his lips again and press you to the back of his throat as he picks up the pace.

You hang your head back and let out a long draw out moan into the bathroom as it echoes in the shower bouncing off those glass walls. Your body tenses with this intense wave of heat. Feeling it wash over you it's like prickles to your flesh. You let out another moan. Your eyes close as you reach down and grip the back of his head as your hips buckle in a rhythmic motion.

The faster he moves the faster your hips move in a perfect tandem motion. The perfect about of give and take. With a faster bob comes a tighter pressure, comes a quicker build of your own pressure but you're unable to hold back any longer. Before you could even get a word in edgewise you're letting out a loud moan of pure satisfaction. Your voice echoes in his ears.

As your cock twitches with your finish, like the professional this man is, Hannibal takes the load, proceeds to stand up with your cock in hand, pulls you closer, and looks down at you as he stands a fair bit taller than you.

"Next time, you're the one on your knees…" He stated with a small smirk.

"Whatever you say." You state with a soft chuckle kind of out of breath and in a daydream-like state.

[ddollfface]

God, I love golden retriever men so much.

*Intensely staring at my fav athlete*

Now, that I have a brainrot~

1. Our lovely Athlete with a nerd darling.

- This would be funny. It is giving black cat × golden retriever. So hard.

- Darling has anemia? She's used to sitting around and reading? Can't walk too long to save her life? He's fucking carrying her everywhere.

- Can you imagine darling bringing a book about his sport (I don't know if you've mentioned what he plays) to the game and reading as they watch him play cuz they don't know crap about sports? He'd be so, "But you're supposed to be watching me." :Insert puppy eyes:

- He's isolating darling? Eh, Darling needs a 4 hour nap after every social gathering anyway.

Ok but-

2. Him with a nerd darling who's a childhood best friend, where darling has a childhood filled with emotional and physical abuse. (I'm finna design a whole ass character to ship him with. If you don't mind, of course.)

- This.

- Don't let me get started on this.

- They would be so power couple coded fr. (Darling knows Athlete is trying to manipulate her. Doesn't care as long as she's getting taken care of.)

- Darling is snarky with a S.

- Darling: "The cheerleader was flirting with you."

Athlete: "I know. :3"

Darling: "Go marry her."

Athlete: "But you're the love of my life. :("

Darling: "Oh, really? I could've sworn it was Cindy instead. Go to her, shoo."

Athlete: "No."

Darling: "Who's bestie are you?"

Athlete: "Yours."

Darling: "Exactly."

- Don't let this fool you, tho. He's def the dominant one in the relationship.

Athlete: "You're my baby :D."

Darling: "Mhmm. Don't say that infront of anyone else."

Athlete: "Why not?"

Darling: "I'll bite your head off, that's why."

(spoiler, he says it in front of everyone and darling does nothing but get shy.)

Darling: "Why would you say that?"

Athlete: "Becuz you're my baby?"

Darling: *cuddles closer to him.* *Whispering* "I'm his baby."

- 💗 anon (if I may) (also, he's my baby now, thank you. I'm keeping him in my head and heart.) (It's so late at night. I just keep thinking about this 😭 and I can't put my thoughts into proper words rn, bear with me on this)

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗮𝗳𝗮𝗯!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

Trigger Warnings; yandere behaviors, possessive behavior, talk about trauma bonding (both reader and yandere or mentally ill), yandere masking, bad writing, and me rambling (I'm so sorry 💗Nonny lol) If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ I offically declare you 💗Nonny!! And I don't mind you coming up with your own interpertations of reader and LoveSick!Athlete! Just share 'em! Also, I may or may not have gone on a tiny, just tiny, tangent, so sorry 💗Nonny... Feel free to submit more asks if 'ya want

LoveSick!Athlete can really mold and mend well with most personalities and darlings, this is due to his manipulative personality. A little off-topic, but he really has a hard time understanding who he is because he's always pretending to be what others deem "acceptable". This causes him to have a multitude of identity crises, but when his darling, you, comes into the picture, it makes it easier for him to find himself. He feels like he's the real him whenever he's with you. You just feel so natural, he feels natural, too. It's just right.

And for that reason, I think LoveSick!Athlete would go really well with a childhood!reader, seeing as she's been with him since they were young. And, I'm not too sure if you've read my Yan!Alphabet for him, but I mention LoveSick!Athlete's childhood; let's just say it wasn't the best situation for a kid.

LoveSick!Athlete would feel a special bond with his darling now, seeing as they've been together threw thick and thin. He's trama bounded to you, and you to him. We'll run off the assumption that reader has also had a bad childhood, whether it be an absent parent, abusive sibling/family member/or parent, whatever it is allows you to feel a connection to LoveSick!Athlete, seeing as you have a mutual situation. You both have something to bond over, something that locks you together.

He has a bad home environment, you have a bad home environment. He doesn't feel at home, so you become his home, and he to you.

And I like to run on the assumption that reader is all talk, no bite. And if you've read any of my writing where the reader talks, you'll see that I prefer to write reader as more "real" (to me anyway) because I'm personally not the hugest fan of the "helpless" reader. I like to write a darling who has a mouth, someone who's bratty (but that's 'cause I'm a brat lol).

Anyway, I'm getting off-topic, back to LoveSick!Athlete.

To your idea about a snarky reader, I totally agree. Honestly, LoveSick!Athlete would eat that shit up, no joke. He would love it, as he enjoys the back-and-forth between you two. He loves to press your buttons, wanting to see what sarcastic reply you have ready for him.

The thing is, he knows your just talking shit, never willing to actually do anything. You just run your mouth, and he lets you, but whenever you step outta line, sometimes, he's gotta put you back. Though, you'll never think of it like that. No, no, he's too sweet for that. He's gotta keep that golden retriever vibe going, y'know?

He just swat you on the ass, telling you that you got such a dirty mouth, mamas? I thought you were my little princess, no? Girls with a face like yours shouldn't be speakin' that like-

He'll just move on, as if he didn't just grope your butt, nope, not at all. And you'll be standing there awestruck, face red, and biting your tongue as you try to not overheat in embarrassment!!

It never ceases to entertain him, watching your face widen with surprise whenever he refers to you as his girl, his cute little girlfriend. The way your face heats up when he wraps his strong arm around your waist, putting his cap on your head (a silent sign of possession over you, trying to get the guy in the back to keep his eyes to himself, but you don't need to know that ;)).

In your little monologue, you go over some cheerleader girl (named Cindy??). Though I would agree that chicks (and some dudes) practically flock around LoveSick!Athlete, I would say that he doesn't even pay them any mind, not even entertaining the thought. Don't get me wrong, he'll talk to them, but make it painstakingly clear that he's only got one girl on his mind, you.

Most of the time, the girl will just find it endearing, slapping his shoulder, and telling him that he'd make a great husband or some shit like that. Of course, the chicks joking, making some nice comments to leave the, now awkward, conversation, but LoveSick!Athlete will take it to heart. Now, he's imagining a pretty ring on your finger, something he paid for, he got you. Because he'd be such a good provider for you, don't you know?

Another thought, 'cause I'm on a role, but I'm not sure if I've directly said this or not, but LoveSick!Athlete is a hockey player. I've tried putting strickly hockey photos on all my posts (you should see my Pinterest feed, it's filled with hot guys lolol).

Hockey is an aggressive sport, I would know. I used to ice skate every day for an hour or two. And, trust me, I got to see a lot of hot guys, though I was always too nervous to say anything, that's beside the point.

I can imagine that reader would be the same, intimidated by these testastrone-filled, young men who just wanna get all sweaty and gross. And I prefer to think that reader also doesn't know how to skate, much to LoveSick!Athlete's enjoyment.

Just to torture you, he'll take you to his ice rink, partly wanting to show you off, and also wanting you to rely on him to move around. He won't even let you hold onto the side, nope, all you got is him, babes.

And anyone who's been to a rink before knows that if you're not on the wall, or smack in the middle of the rink, you're in traffic, especially if it's busy. And this means that you gotta go fast, keeping pace with everyone else. And there's always a handful of assholes (usually hockey players) who will purposefully do a hockey stop, flinging a shit tone of ice at newbies.

I imagine that this shit would happen all the time and LoveSick!Athete is enjoying it sm. He gets a rush every time you flinch, clinging onto him tighter, especially when the really fast skaters zoom by you, scaring the crap outta you.

And he won't let you go at your own pace, forcing you to follow his lead. This means you're going far too fast for comfort, leaning on him for support. You're arms wrapped around his bicep, which isn't recommended btw. Your cheek pressed against his arm, holding on for dear life.

You'll snap at him, telling him to shut up and stop enjoying this, you dork. I'm only clinging to 'cause I gotta!

And he'll just take it, giving you a lopsided smirk.

[mochamamii]

yandere!nct: you try to unalive yourself.

▹ a/n: hello loves, I can’t remember if I’ve written something like this before but I wanted write something a little darker today but soon I will force myself to write some fluff I promise lol.

▹ pairing: yandere!nct x reader

▹ triggers: self-harm, readers attempts to unalive themselves, kidnapping, forced relationships

▹ warning!: I can’t stress enough how triggering this might be, I get descriptive at certain parts and I strongly urge you to consider whether this is something you want to read, this is dark and not my normal writing. please prioritize your own well-being and do not read this if it will influence you in anyway, I have lots of other lighter reads 💕

Taeil won’t let it get this far. Taeil loves you deeply and wants only the best for you no matter how demented it appears to others. He dotes on, and nurtures you like his life depends on it, carefully crafting your meals and your routine to keep your mind and body healthy. If something like this were about to happen, he would be able to foresee your declining mental state and hopefully prevent any attempts. Taeil would do everything in his power to keep you safe and he’d do his best to make you as comfortable as possible. He’d even consider letting you go if it meant saving your life.

“How could you do this to yourself? Don’t I take care of you well?”

Johnny is always calm and collected, even when he’s pissed off, a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, he always keeps the same mask on, never giving you any idea of what he’s thinking inside his head. Until now that is…He comes home to find you on the bathroom floor. At first he thought you must’ve slipped, hitting your head and knocking yourself out in the process, not that it had been done intentionally. Johnny is at a loss of what to do, it’s one of the few times he’s not sure what to say or do to fix this. He usually has a witty comeback to lighten the mood but he knows now isn’t the time. He helps fix you up, cleans the wound on your head, and tucks you in bed. Anytime you part your lips to speak he’ll shush you. The two of you will probably sit in silence for a while until he can figure out how to address this.

“It’s okay, shhh…Just rest, save your energy. We’ll talk about it later.”

Taeyong is an angry mix of emotions. He’s known for at least a week now that you somehow managed to obtain poison. He theorized that you must’ve used cleaning supplies to mix a cocktail of chemicals, he found you hiding your stash under the bathroom sink. He assumed your plan was to use it on him, simply out of curiousity and amusement he wanted to see if you were actually capable of trying to kill him so he didn’t address it. He wanted to see how far you’d go to leave him. He waited and waited, but he never noticed anything different. He already had cameras installed in your shared apartment to watch you while he was away, he hoped to find you tampering with his food in a botched attempt to poison him. But still, nothing ever came of it. Until suddenly, you were the one who fell sick. His worry turned to anger as he arrived home one night to find you on the floor of the bathroom, the mixture of poison lying next to you.

“Are you insane? What were you trying to do, kill yourself? Do you think that will work, because I promise you, nothing…not even life itself will keep me from you. Don’t ever do something stupid like this again.”

Yuta feels remorse. It’s one of the few and probably only times Yuta will ever feel this way. Out of everyone, Yuta is one of the most intense and dangerous yandere’s, but he still loves you in his own twisted way. He likes to push your buttons and torture you a little but he’d never kill you…probably. For Yuta, part of the fun is seeing how badly you want to live, how badly you want for him to release you and return to your old life. When he arrives home to find you on the floor, a dark crimson pool of blood surrounding you he panics, all the color draining from his face as he sees your barely conscious body. He’ll clean you up, bandaging your wounds, he’ll monitor you for a few days wondering if he should take you to a hospital. In those few days as he waits to see if your condition worsens he’ll be super gentle, much more gentle with you than he’s ever been. His hands will run over all the old scarred skin where he’s cut you in different places before, a deep pang in his chest screaming at him for doing that to you. He’ll be soft with you, but he can’t help but still poke fun at you in an attempt to get you to talk to him.

“Hey, couldn’t you wait for me? At least I know when to stop, clearly you’re still an amateur…You could’ve really hurt yourself. What would I do then, huh?”

Doyoung is angry. At you, but mostly himself. He likes to believe that he knows you better than you know yourself. To come home and find you in the middle of attempting to harm yourself he will realize just how little he truly knows about you and your condition. Initially the only emotion he can really process is anger, the thought of coming home a second too late and losing you enraged him. Even while angry, he was solid as rock, never giving you much of a clue about what he was thinking. He will carefully nurse you back to health, never leaving your side not even for a second. Once you begin to recover he will experience heartbreak and grief over what could’ve happened. Doyoung won’t address the incident much and will from then on refer to it as the ‘incident’ he wants to pretend that it never happened. He’s a stubborn man and his behavior towards you might not change much, if anything he gives you less freedom, afraid to let you leave his side.

“Never do that again. Hate me. Hate me all you want to, but never do that again. Please.”

Jungwoo is distraught after finding you in such a state. He’s in disbelief and this is a rare occasion in which he is truly afraid. Afraid of what could’ve happened to you and what might happen again in the future if he’s not careful. It flips a switch in him and forces him to realize something that he cannot shake. That he might not just need to protect you from the world but from your own self too. He becomes distrustful of you, scared and afraid that you might try to hurt yourself again. There’s no amount of convincing or promises in the world that will put his mind at ease. This fear will drive him to act irrationally, he’s not above strapping you to a bed all day while he’s gone if it means keeping you safe. In his mind you forced him to take these measures to keep you safe.

“You know why I have to keep you locked up like this don’t you baby? I can’t risk you doing something like that again, what would I do without you?”

Mark is shocked. He never expected it, he doesn’t necessarily make your mental health a priority for him. He knows you probably hate him and that you’d do nearly anything to get away from him. He just never thought unaliving yourself would be on the table for you. In fact, he probably expected you to try and kill him before you ever tried to hurt yourself. He will feel shameful and for the first time a little guilty about taking you. I don’t see him ever letting you go but he might be willing to talk and see what changes can be made to make you more ‘comfortable’ in your new life.

“Don’t punish yourself for the decision I made. If you wanted to kill someone it should’ve been me. Not you, never you.”

Haechan’s response might come off as cold and heartless. That’s only half true. Initially he might try and make himself believe that it wasn’t you who did it to yourself but that an intruder broke in and attacked you. When he realizes what you tried to do he knows that nothing he will say will comfort you or inspire you to never do it again. You hate him, so much that you’d rather die than be stuck with him another second. What could he possibly say to change your mind? His approach is a little brazen and risky but he wants to test your will to live. How badly did you truly want to be free of him? He used the only thing he knows for sure works in keeping you in check. Fear. Your fear of him and what he might do.

“What? It’s okay for you to go around taking lives but I can’t?” He asks with a quizzical expression as he holds a knife to your former friend’s throat, his icy eyes piercing into yours.

[numinousher]

CHANTAJE! (xviii)

PAIRING: ceo!bts x actress(female)!reader

SUMMARY: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

WARNING(S) FOR LATER: gore/blood/murder, harassment/bullying, mental health talks (nothing badly triggering), child endangerment (mc was a child actor, again nothing badly triggering. if there is, there will be a warning)

NOTE: if you guys read this, im not late, you are 😒

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @parapiop7 @an-ever-angry-bi @softforyoongles @thenaverse @chansatlan @juju-227592 @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @reallysparklychaos @namjooncrabs @savagemickey03 @drunkzseok @svnbangtansworld @2ne1unni

“Why are you crying?”

Were the first words Namjoon asked as soon as he, Jimin, and Taehyung came to find you sitting on your couch with tears streaming down your face. Little gasps were escaping your lips and your eyes were casted on something propped on the arm of your couch.

You raised a finger up as an answer.

“Y/n.”

You ignored them and continued to look at what you were looking at.

“Y/n.”

A little sob escaped you this time and Taehyung strides forward to see what was causing your tears. He pinched the bridge of his nose once he came to find a book laid down, a sigh escaping his own lips.

“Y/n, are you crying over a book?”

“You better not be judging me.” you glared at him, though Taehyung couldn’t take you serious since your eyes were teary and swollen. Your nose was starting to get stuffy, too, so you sniffled in hopes it would stop running. You continued to read.

“Why are you crying before your meeting with your parents, idiot?” Jimin sighed, passing you the tissues on your table. You took them from him and made sure you were finished with the last sentence of the book before closing it.

“I needed to read this because I need to remember I could’ve had it worse,” you mumbled, standing up to stretch. You twisted your body side to side to get rid of the ache from sitting down. “I cry when I get mad so I needed to get those tears out before my parents words get to me.”

“You read that book because you needed to remind yourself you could’ve had it worse?” Namjoon asked in a low voice, almost in disbelief. You nodded and quickly put your things away. “You’re crazy. Don’t compare yourself life to fictional things. This is real life and as much as we all have fucked up childhoods, yours is valid, too.”

You sniffed one last time, your gaze stuck on the wall beside his head to look at the picture of you and your sister. “You’re right. I needed that.” You dabbed your eyes and inhaled and exhaled. “Okay, I think I’m good. I really needed that cry.”

Jimin scoffed and shook his head. “What are we gonna do with you?”

You innocently smiled, sticking out your hand. “Hold it?”

Before he was about to respond, your maid, Min-seo, came with her head bowed down. “Your parents are here, ma’am.”

“Thanks, lead them here please, Min-seo,” you softly spoke to the poor woman, turning around to breath in and out. You ignored the stares and the anxiety building up in the pit of your stomach. “If I talk back, don’t think I’m disrespectful.”

Taehyung’s hand rested on the middle of your back, thumb rubbing against the material of your shirt. Much to your surprise, though, his touch soothed you.

“Why are they here?”

Your eyes shut closed out of irritation at hearing your dad’s annoyed yet stern voice.

“Because I’m dating them,” you spewed out between gritted teeth, a fake smile spreading on your lips as you came to see your parents and your siblings. You forgot you had a brother for a sec, but you remembered the money you gave to your parents went to him. “Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, these are my parents and my siblings. Parents, siblings, these are my boyfriends.”

“Hmm.” Your mom looked at the boys and looked away. “What are these allegations?” You rolled your eyes and turned away to sit down. “Do not turn your back to me, Y/n.”

“I’m not turning my back on you to be rude,” you said, feeling Taehyung sit next to you while the other two stood behind you, watching your family with a stern gaze.

Namjoon, though, kept a close eye on your sister.

“We have told you work comes before everything and that included having friends,” your mom continued to scold you, slapping your hand away from the cotton candy you had been eating. “And this is not food. What is this? Throw it away.”

“Why are you here?” You asked, ignoring her words and eating the sweetness she despised. “There must be a reason as to why my whole entire family had to come to my house instead of calling or texting.”

“Your brother wants money for school,” your dad simply answered, back straightening a bit to look more intimidating. Because Namjoon and Taehyung worked out more than Jimin did, your dad couldn’t help but eye the way their blazers looked on their arms. Although Jimin wasn’t as buff, his mere presence was enough to intimidate anyone in the room, including your younger brother.

“Ah, that’s what it’s for,” you scoffed out, shaking your head. You glanced at your brother. “Funny how as his parents, you can’t financially provide for him. Thanks to me, he can have everything he wants.”

“Y/n.”

“No,” you remembered Jae’s words resonating with you. It was time to put your foot down. But you couldn’t help but admit you felt a bit embarrassed since the guys were there, watching you. “I am not going to just throw money I earned because of my hard work. I worked. Not you. It’s my money.”

“But we helped you get to where you were,” your mom argued, hoping to diminish any confidence you had standing up to her and your father. “Without us, you wouldn’t be living in a house as big as this, all while being named the biggest actress and millionaire in South Korea. We put you in this path.”

“And I thank you for that,” you said with a frown, not straying away your eye-contact. “But it doesn’t mean that you don’t see me as a big dollar sign because you do. That’s all I am to you and it has been like that since I was a child.”

“Your aunt made you like this,” your father fought back, his words laced with such hate for the woman who technically raised you. “After she died, you have been nothing but a disappointment.”

“Since I’m such a disappointment,” you started, feeling Taehyung’s hand on your thigh to provide some type of support, “then you don’t need the money I get from the movies and shows I’ve been in that disappoint you.”

Your mother scoffed. “Despicable!” She stood up and pointed a finger at you. “You have been nothing but a spoiled brat. You’re never appreciative. Never, and you’re here because of us.” She glanced at the 3 men surrounding you. “Nothing but a disappointment.”

“You know your way out,” you said in a monotonous voice, your fingers slightly shaking with nerves at even the thought of kicking your parents out. You’re really doing something you know you’re going to feel guilty for as soon as they leave. “I will support my siblings, but you two are not getting a cent.”

“Whatever.”

Your parents turned on their heels and left, heading towards the front door. Your siblings, feeling bad for you, immediately walked to you.

You stood up and hugged them both simultaneously, bringing them closer to kiss their cheeks.

“Stop growing up, you two,” you joked, hoping to ease the tension surrounding all of you. They chuckled tearfully on your shoulder before pulling away. You placed a hand on your brother’s face. “Whatever you need, text me. I will have my bodyguard get you and bring you here, okay?” He nodded, tears in his eyes out of gratefulness for having you. You were always so thankful he was never ungrateful. “Go. I’ll talk with your sister really quick.”

He nodded and bid his goodbyes. Though, before he left, he turned to look at the three men still quietly staring. “Goodbye. Take care of my sister please.”

They all nodded their heads.

“We will,” Jimin mumbled much to everyone’s surprise.

You watched your brother leave before turning to look at your sister. You placed your hand on the sides of her face, looking at her sadly. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m okay,” she said, her own eyes becoming blurry with tears. “They’re just too much.”

“Whatever you need, I’m here,” you muttered, hugging her again one last time. “You know that.”

“I know,” she sadly chuckled, nodding her head in agreement. “That’s why I call you my own mother figure because that hag outside is nothing to me.”

Snorting, you softly slapped her back. She could hear the smile in your voice as you scolded her. “Don’t say that.” She laughed with you before pulling away. “I’ll see you then?” She nodded. You sighed. “Okay then. Please take care of yourself. You have my number and stay out of trouble.”

“I will,” she breathed out. You kissed her cheek one last time. She looked over your shoulder. “Take care of my sister.” Her smile vanished and a stern look overtook it. “I know people who can get the job done. I even have a bunch of haunted dolls that will get attached to you as soon as you touch it. Don’t tempt me.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but let a small smile slip on his mouth at the threats. “We’ll take care of her.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at them and turned to look back at you. “Be happy.”

You felt that familiar lump in your throat at hearing her words, and you blinked away the tears threatening to escape your eyes so you wouldn’t worry her. You watched her leave and you couldn’t bear the thought of crying in front of the others. This was a different feeling than the one you felt at reading the book.

“Excuse me,” you mumbled, walking yourself to the library you had in the other room.

The three men looked at each other but Namjoon, understanding you, sighed at your figure closing the door behind you.

“I’ll talk with her.”

Jimin and Taehyung watched him leave and they were left with a solemn air surrounding them. They could only hope Namjoon did his best to reassure you.

“Hey,” Namjoon said, closing the door behind him. He watched you sitting on a chair with your hand covering your face.

“I have an ugly crying face, leave,” you let out, though Namjoon could only register a couple of words since your mouth was muffled.

He snorted and shook his head, ignoring your words. He sat next to you and silently sat there, legs stretched out. He glanced at the back of your head and leaned back.

“My parents were like that.” His words caught your attention. “I mean, they were a bit worse but, the amount of manipulation and guilt-tripping they did to me for the majority of my childhood. I lie all of the time that they were nice, loving parents or that my mom was great, my dad was great, whatever. But in actuality, they were a bunch of assholes who never recovered from their own childhood trauma so they took it out on me until I eventually became them.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” you breathed out.

“I get that feeling of being afraid that you’re going to end up like them but, when you’re self-aware, when you know their actions,” Namjoon held your hand in his so you could understand the sternness of his words. He wouldn’t just say all of this without meaning to, “you’re already the best version of yourself. You know what they’re doing is wrong and you’re already close to the fact that you’re not going to become like them.”

A moment of silence became you.

With a sigh, you sat up, and rubbed your eyes.

“You really have a way with words if you’re not a douchebag, huh?” He noticed you had the habit of doing that; to get rid of the tension by making small jokes. He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath at your attempt. “Thank you, Namjoon. I am sorry you guys had to be here to witness that mess.”

“It’s okay. It’s nothing I haven’t seen. As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“Good. Let’s get some cotton candy, yeah?”

“Okay.”

He smiled at you and softly patted your head. “And please, if you want to cry before meeting your parents, come with me. You can cry however much you want around me, I won’t mind. It’s better you have someone than being alone.”

“Just say you like me.”

“Who wouldn’t, bestie?”

“You ruined it.”

< before - after >

[bea-ce]

If only I could make you believe you deserve everything

pairing: kaveh x reader (can be read platonically or romantically)

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

summary: life is awful at times. very much so that you end up falling back to bad habits to get you through it. luckily, you have kaveh to help you guide back to the right track.

word count: 4.2k

notes: hii!! first post! (and its hurt/comfort RAHHHH) kaveh might be a little ooc as i havent gotten to him in the archon quest yet, so i apologize for that in advance! i poured my heart and soul and my own personal experiences into this,,  i apologize if the comfort is a lil wonky.

title is inspired by Nicole Dollanganger’s song “Please Eat”.

trigger warning(s): mentions of ed/having an ed, descriptive experience of having an ed, mentions of relapsing into unhealthy coping mechanisms, self inflicted harm (self harm), descriptions of self-contempt, descriptions of feelings of unworthiness.

let me know if i missed any warnings

It had been a while since the last time you’d done this. The thought of even returning back to this state was beyond you. Everything had been going so well it seemed. Sure, life still threw inconveniences towards you, but you handled them just fine, you thought.

Clearly not, as you’re now back to restraining yourself from eating and indulging yourself from something that’s vital for you to live. You knew the risks of refusing yourself food, you’d read all about the consequences and health risks of starving yourself.

Yet that is the precise reason you’re doing this.

You know how harmful this is and you know it’s bad. The knowledge of the dangers and harm in doing it is exactly why you continue doing it though: It’s your punishment. A sigh escapes your lips as you try concentrating on the paper that lay before you instead of the numbness that starts taking over your legs and the quivering of your hand. There isn’t any way for you to not notice how your body is screaming out for something to eat. It’s constantly reminding you as your vision is clouded with dark spots whenever you move and how your body shakes as you do any everyday task. Despite its cries for food, you ignore it and open the lid to the water bottle beside you and empty half of it to ignore the ache in your stomach due to its emptiness. 

It helps, somewhat, as it fools your stomach for sometime at least. In a shaky motion you place the water bottle beside the pile of assignments you have to finish before the end of this week. 

It’s difficult to get anything done when the ache in your stomach extends to the rest of your body, making the most simple task like reading over the text presented in front of you and writing down notes feeling so incredibly demanding on your body. A groan escapes your lips as you lean back into the chair and drag your hand across your face in annoyance. You need to finish these assignments, yet you can’t. Everything feels so hazy and your mind is blank, unable to think of anything other than the feeling of hunger growing more intense.

The bustling from the kitchen can be heard all the way into your room. Usually at this hour you’d sit by the kitchen table and eat with Alhaitham and Kaveh, but you’ve locked yourself away in your room, drowning yourself in work to ignore the deep wretched feelings that linger within you. A faint knock on the door echoes throughout the room as a voice calls out from the other side. It’s Kaveh’s voice, calling out to you. "(Y/N)?" Your name is muffled by the closed door as you turn around in your seat to look at the source of the sound. There stands Kaveh, holding a plate with food in his hand while the other one is still gripping onto the door handle.

Your eyes quickly scan his face before they dart down to look at the plate he’s holding.

It’s too much, you think as you look at the contents of the food. Numbers appear inside your head the longer you stare at the plate, feeling repulsed at the thought of putting anything in your mouth and fulfilling your hunger at the cost of the imaginary numbers going up.

You turn around to face the paper you’ve been staring blankly at for the last hour, waving Kaveh off. “I’ve already eaten.” You answer courtly. You haven’t, but telling him you weren’t hungry wasn’t an option. Kaveh would be reluctant had you answered that you weren’t hungry and placed the food by your table instead. The thought alone that he might do that makes you want to cry and scream in panic. You can’t risk letting yourself indulge in the food that he’s made: You must go through with your own punishment.

Kaveh sighs and grabs the door handle, about to leave and close the door before the sound of your stomach growling bounces off the walls. He stops in his tracks as his grip on the plate tightens. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you tense up at how your stomach contradicts your words from earlier. A deep terror stirs within you as your thoughts wander off to all the possible reactions you might receive from the blond man at the revelation. You hear how he shuffles behind you and closes the door behind him as he approaches you. You dare not to turn around to look at him, instead you hold up your face above the paper and stare intently onto it, trying to focus on the words that dance around across the paper to ignore Kaveh’s look of pity and concern.

Kaveh is standing right next to you, his grip on the plate is so incredibly tight that his knuckles have gone white. His eyes are soft and laced with worry as he looks down on you, and to be honest; he’s not sure how to handle this situation he’s being faced with right now. He places the plate next to your bedside table instead of the table in front of you, knowing better than shoving unwanted food up your face. It’s not what you need right now.

Kaveh sits on the side of your bed, boring his eyes into the back of your head as he waits for you to do the first move, to begin the conversation. He doesn’t want to scare you off now that he’s found out. He can feel the pain within you. He can see the hurt and the desperation, but he has no words to fill the silence. He doesn't know how he could possibly help you, but he wants to. More than that, he wants to try.

“I’m fine” you try to subside the situation, playing it off to only being a one time thing when it’s clear to the both of you that it isn’t. 

Kaveh interrupts you. “You’re not fine.” Kaveh still has the same gentleness to him, but there’s a certain amount of firmness to his words too. It leaves no room for you to slither your way out of his confrontation. “Are you hurting yourself? Are you starving yourself?”

The words feel like he had just physically assaulted you, as if he had pulled out a knife and stabbed you in the chest while twirling the knife around inside of your heart. The words feel as if Kaveh had just falsely accused you of a crime you hadn’t committed. 

But the two of you know better than that. You both know that the reason you feel so attacked is because Kaveh is calling you out, and rightfully so.

“No! No. I am not starving myself.” The words come out much harsher than you had intended them to be, sounding defensive and giving yourself away to Kaveh. The pile of paperwork that needs to be done stares at you mockingly as you look down on the paper in front of you that is still blank.

“I’m just- I don’t want to eat.” It’s half the truth. You do in fact not want to eat, but it’s for all the wrong reasons you don’t want to eat. Kaveh sighs as he gets up from your bed and walks up behind you. For a moment he almost reaches out to you, but he draws his hand back and places it on your chair instead of your shoulder, like he had intended to. He’s reluctant to touch you. In this moment right now, you’re fragile, and he must tread carefully so as to not break you.

“Do you think I don’t see it?” His voice is gentle, but there’s a certain edge to it. It cuts right through any excuses that might slip past your mouth to escape this conversation neither of you want to have. The words have you cornered, and as if you were reliving an experience much like this -where you were confronted and you admitted, only to be rejected from the care and help you needed- you feel a need to run away from him. To run away from your home, from the house, run, run and run. But where would you run? There’s no way for you to run away from him, and even if you did: Where would you run? 

Would you even have the energy to run away from him with the way your vision would cloud with black spots covering your sight and with the way your legs feel numb?

Reality hits you like a brick as you realize that Kaveh has you cornered and at his mercy.

A hitched breath escapes your lips as you feel your hands and feet going cold along with being overcome by dreadfulness as the situation you’re in slowly sinks in.

“This is unhealthy, and you know it, don’t you?” It’s not much of a question really. His voice is firm, trying to cover up his own shakiness as your condition dawns upon him. “Please.. could you talk to me?” he pleads, letting his hand fall from the chair, down to your shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze. The contact makes you flinch as it pulls you back from your swarm of thoughts, back into the present with him. The words seem stuck in your mouth, suffocating you and preventing you from voicing your thoughts and feelings that you’re left only shaking your head at his request of opening up. Kaveh lets out a sigh as he lets his hand fall from your shoulder. For a moment, you think he’s given up on you and will leave you alone to deal with your misery by yourself; the thought causes you both pain and relief. Instead, he walks around your chair and crouches next to you as he looks up to you from below.

“Please. Talk to me.” he begins as he balances himself on the armrest all while tilting his head up at you. “What can I do to help you? You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t know!” you finally exclaim as your face falls into your hands. You inhale shakily as Kaveh continues to inspect your face for something, anything.

“I don’t.. know.”

Everything around you spins like an unpleasant merry-go-round ride as your vision becomes clouded by the black spots appearing before you.

One of the consequences of not eating, you suppose.

How you wished that you could’ve kept this secret from him a little longer. Long enough for him to not have to have this confrontation with you right now.

Kaveh can only feel pity as he looks at you. You look so fragile right now, so weak. It hurts him to see you so, to see your body shaking from your hunger.

He has a question that he wants to ask, but he feels afraid to. You don't owe him anything, he supposes. 

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" How do you ask someone why they are harming themselves? How do you say that without it coming across in a terrible way? Kaveh had an immense sense of empathy, but even that had its limits.

"I deserve it." 

The words slip out your mouth with ease, as if the question had no other answer but that. Tears that you had been holding back from the moment your secret was out swell up in your eyes and threaten to fall down on the blank, empty paper sheet that should’ve been filled in by now. The dripping of your tears resounds in your head and you pray that Kaveh doesn’t hear how you’re covering your paperwork in tears.

"I deserve it." You repeat the words shakily this time as a sob finally manages to escape your mouth. All you want to do is make yourself as small as possible so you can just vanish from the earth’s surface. But you can’t.

So you do the next best thing, which is curling yourself into a ball while you let the tears flow down your cheeks as your entire form tenses up and shakes from the anguish you feel inside of you.

Several feelings washes over Kaveh. Ones of confusion, concern and guilt.

You don't deserve this. 

Nobody deserves to feel so low. And you are so, so very low: starving yourself just as a punishment.

He can't help but feel pity for you. The words come out before he can even stop them from slipping past his lips: "Why do you deserve it?"

He's trying to be kind and supportive, he really is, but it's painfully hard for him to find the right words. It’s difficult seeing a loved one tear themselves apart in front of him all while thinking they deserve to suffer and break.

His question is one not even you can answer. It’s a question that you’ve pondered about whenever you’ve come to your senses after having breakdowns much like these, and each time you’re left with no answer. There's only that part of you, that little tiny voice in the back of your head that tells you that you deserve nothing less than pain and suffering. That this is the only way for you to get rid of the mental turmoil you experience on a daily basis. 

That the only way to get rid of the emotional and mental pain is to double the physical pain, and what easier way is there to feel physical pain if it isn’t to inflict it upon yourself; by yourself?

How do you help someone who believes that?

It's not like you can just tell them that they don't deserve it. How could he ever convince you that you’re wrong? How can he convince you that there's a better way than starving and hurting yourself? 

How is any of this supposed to be okay for you?

"(Y/N)," he calls out your name, the sound of his voice pleading yet somehow still kind, "(Y/N). There is no reason to hurt yourself. You deserve better."

As if you weren’t already curled into a ball you only manage to make yourself smaller as you cry, your entire form shaking. It's not till now that he's so up close to you that he sees how your body is covered in goosebumps and the bruises that linger across your body. They look self-inflicted and Kaveh can't help but let out a wince as he looks at the bruises that cover your skin.

He tries his hardest to contain his horror at seeing what you’ve done to herself. It looks so painful, so terrible, but it's clear from your shivering, from your shaking, from the way your face crumples - from the way you curl up into a ball so easily - that this isn't your first time.

You’re hurting, and at your own hand.

He doesn't know how to process that. He has never seen anyone do this to themselves. He can't imagine how any of this could be good.

Your grip on your legs only grows tightens as you cry into your knees, on the verge of wailing from feeling how your heart aches. It’s as if someone is tightening their grip on your already fragile heart, and it hurts so very much.

You could handle feeling hungry, and you could handle inflicting pain upon yourself, littering your body with bruises to show for it. Yet you couldn’t handle the feelings inside of you that were crushing you and tearing you apart. You had learnt to handle your inner turmoil by ignoring the feelings until they grew so great that the only way to rid yourself of the demons surrounding you was to hurt them through yourself.

The relief was only temporary, sure, but you’d do anything for the moment of peace in your inferno called your own mind.

He sighs heavily, the sound filled with regret and pity. Kaveh doesn’t say anything and remains looking up to your face as you quickly unravel before him. 

This is beyond him. He doesn't know how to comfort you- how to help you. He has no idea what to say or what to do. It’s all so overwhelming - all these feelings of fear and confusion and pity and care - that he doesn't even know how to begin to process, let alone express.

He places a gentle, comforting hand on your knee as you continue to cry. You’re so up in your own thoughts and emotions that you can’t get yourself to pull away from his touch.

It’s not that his touch wasn’t comforting. It was very comforting. And that was exactly why you wanted to pull away from his touch.

You don’t deserve that kind of comfort.

"I'm sorry.." the words come out so weak, putting your broken state on full display for Kaveh. A sob escapes your mouth as you try your best regaining your composure to no avail. Each breath you try and take control over gets interrupted by a sob or a gasp for air.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you repeat as you burrow your face further into your knees. Your words are slurring as you’re choking back your cries to get the words out of your mouth.

Kaveh doesn't even understand what you could possibly have to be sorry for. You've done nothing wrong. You've committed no sins worth feeling so terrible for. 

But how does he tell you that? How could he convince you of the truth that appears so clearly to him but isn’t as obvious for you?

He doesn't.

How does he convince you to get past these terrible feelings of wrongness, when you’re so very convinced that it's your punishment? How does he convince you to give yourself kindness and care, when you believe yourself so unworthy? How does he make you realize that this isn't your fault, that you haven't done anything that deserves all of this?

Kaveh moves closer to you - so carefully, so slowly. As if you’re something fragile, to be treated with respect and care. Because you are fragile. You’re hurt, and you’re so, so small. All he wants to do is to hold you, to bring you comfort, to hug you, to hold you in his arms. He just wants to lift your heavy burden off of your shoulders. But he doesn’t reach out to do any of that, it doesn’t feel appropriate to do so right now as you’re sobbing in front of him and curling yourself into a ball.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he says quietly. "You're hurting yourself, and that can't be okay. Please," he adds, his voice pleading, "Let me try to help you. You don't have to do this. You don't deserve to do this."

You had always had a hard time accepting other people’s kindness and comfort, it was extremely difficult for you to understand and wrap your head around the concept of being treated with decency and care from another being without expecting anything back in return. The feelings overwhelm you and you feel how you want to throw up from Kaveh’s attentiveness, it’s all too much for you.

You’d rather have him walk out on you and leave you in your pitiful state to fend for yourself. It’s what you’re used to. And when he breaks what you consider a norm, your world falls apart with it.

The tears flow down your cheeks as if they’ll never come to an end. 

Kaveh can see it from the way you gasp and wail when his words of care finally register.

It’s written all over your face - your pain, your hurt - it’s clear that you’re not used to being treated with such care and attention. It’s clear that this isn’t something you’re used to; it’s clear that you’re not used to having someone trying to help you.

It breaks Kaveh’s heart to see you struggle like this. He doesn’t know how he can get you to accept this treatment from him, from anyone.

He wants nothing in return; he only wants to help. How can he get you to understand that? How could he ever assure someone that they’re deserving of unconditional care and love when that very someone is so fully convinced that they deserve pain? 

"You need help," he says quietly. "Let me help you."

Why do you deserve to suffer, to hurt yourself, when you’ve done nothing wrong? Why are you so cruel to yourself? Kaveh lets the thought wander in his head for some time before he shakes his head in disbelief. He can’t come to any reasonable conclusion as to why you’d be so cruel to yourself. He could only speculate.

Is this why you hurt yourself? The thought intrudes him, as he tries to stay focused on comforting you.

Because you feel like you don’t deserve kindness?

But why? Why wouldn't you deserve kindness? This isn't because of any mistakes you’ve made, is it? Has someone made you believe this? Or is it something that you’ve always thought? Either way, you’re wrong. You deserve kindness. You deserve the world. 

You deserve to be treated well.

"You deserve so much better," he says quietly, "You aren't pitiful. I promise you that you are so much more than what you tell yourself you are." 

Kaveh places his hands on top of yours as he rubs comforting circles with his thumb on the back of your palms. Another sob escapes your lips at his attempts to soothe your ache. He can feel the way you tremble under his hands as he gives you a gentle squeeze of comfort to stabilize your quivering form, even if it's just by a little bit. He keeps rubbing, still trying to help you. Neither of you say anything and the only thing to be heard in the room is the sound of your rapid breathing and hitched sobs. And while the tremors still persist, your sobs are becoming less frantic. He thinks he might be comforting her just slightly, but it's good enough for now. At least it’s a start. 

Kaveh wants to say something, but he doesn't know what to say. He's never been in a situation like this before. He doesn't want to sound like an idiot. But he also doesn't want to stay silent.

He cannot bear to see you like this, and he doesn't want to imagine how much pain you’ve been carrying for you to end up here like this. 

He wants so badly for you to be okay. He wants nothing more than to give you his care and comfort. Kaveh gets up from his crouching position and feels his legs tingle from sitting like that for so long, but he ignores it. It’s not important right now. What is, is you and your wellbeing. 

He assumes that if you responded positively to having him rub your hand, then maybe you'd respond better to affectionate comfort. Kaveh is reluctant at first. A hug is much more personal, much more intimate than drawing circles on someone's palm. So he asks.

"Is it okay if I hug you?"

You tense up at the request reluctantly. Granted, you and Kaveh would usually greet one another by giving a quick hug with a pat on the back before getting to it. But this was different. Much different from those lighthearted moments you’d share before you go off to wherever you had planned on doing for the day, whether that was taking a walk amongst the streets of the city or just enjoying one another's presence as you work deliberately.

You’re hesitant, and Kaveh is about to reassure you that it’s fine if you don’t want to until he sees a small nod coming from you. Your eyes quickly dart down to meet his before you avert your gaze from him, feeling the shame and embarrassment crawl along your back amongst the other feelings that roam inside of you.

Kaveh is quick to act as he pulls you into his embrace. 

He holds you protectively, as if he just holds you close enough to him he'll be able to shield you from the cold, cruel world that's hurt you so. You just want to hold on to him. Just wants him to hold you, to hug you and hold you close to him. 

The warmth is so comforting, so very comforting that the little voice in your head tells you that you aren't worthy of this kind of affection. That you don’t deserve to be cared for like this, and a part of you still holds onto that truth. Despite that, you cling onto him as if he were your lifeline, the very last thread that was keeping you from floating away. You want this- you’ve been yearning for someone to hold you like this, and even though a loud part of you disagrees- that part of you that tells you that you’re not deserving of this- you can’t help but bask in his warmth that he provides for you.

The plate on your bedside table catches his eye, long forgotten. The food had obviously gone cold by now. Whatever, Kaveh thinks. It doesn’t matter, he can always just warm it up later. What matters is that he helps you back on your feet and support you through this. 

You don’t have to fend for yourself anymore. He’s here now, and he’ll help you through it. He may not be capable of chasing away your demons for you, but you’ll always have his endless support.

He’ll spend an eternity if it means he could make you believe that you deserve everything.

[borahaerhy]

Dealer (10) - myg

Summary: Your boyfriend seemed like a dream come true: always wanting to be around you, making sure you would get home safe, never taking his hands off you. These little comforts became your whole world, and then the only thing you were allowed to have left in the world. Luckily, your boyfriends drug dealer turned out to be a much nicer guy.

Pairing: DrugDealer!Yoongi x Female!Reader

Genre: Mafia/drug kingpin au, Y/N coming from nothing, found family, Eventual smut

Warnings: So much action omg, multiple people get shot, chase scene, Namjoon's a doctor?, lots of blood, Jungkook makes a joke, Namjoon performs (minor) surgery, mention of Y/n taking shooting lessons when she was younger, Y/n and Yoongi being soft, someone's missing a chunk of their ear but I'm not telling who, Someone's name is just the letter 'L' (death note theme intensifies), descriptions of Y/n previous relationship

Word count: 2.6k

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Note: If you are sensitive or triggered by abusive relationships or manipulation in any way, please do not read this fic, it can be very triggering. It will also be referenced that Y/n used to self-harm, and has self-harm scars. This fic is going to cover a lot of intense topics, and there will be a lot of drugs.

Yoongi was on you in a matter of seconds, checking to see if you were hurt as they started driving away. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

“I’m fine, Yoongi, Namjoon stepped in before anything bad happened,” You spoke softly as you reassured him, his face and body visibly relaxing as you spoke. 

“We’ve got a tail,” Jungkook spoke softly as he reached up and pressed a button on the overhead console, opening up the sunroof. He reached down beside the seat he was in a picked up the AR-15, before he stood up on the seat and stood out of the roof, and started firing at the car behind you as Namjoon started moving faster, dodging between cars and taking sharp turns down alleys. 

It didn’t take long before there were multiple cars following you. Yoongi cursed under his breath as he noticed all of them piling up and narrowing in before he pulled out his handgun and leaned out of his window, firing bullets haphazardly at the moving targets behind him. 

They were shooting back, bullets raining from people hanging out of every window of every car. “Someone give me a gun,” 

“What!?” Yoongi yelled, looking back at you before returning his attention outside, having to pull himself back in the car to dodge an oncoming bullet. Yoongi was about to protest again when Namjoon pulled the gun from Jungkook's side holster and handed it back to you. 

You pressed the magazine release to check and see if it was fully loaded. It’s a Glock 43, 6 rounds. You pushed the magazine back in and rolled down your window, swiftly moving most of the top half of your body out. You steadied yourself, aimed at the front driver’s side tire at the car directly behind you, and pulled the trigger. 

Hit

The car swerved off to the side and into oncoming traffic. The car behind them moved up quickly. Aim, hit. Two more cars move up, side by side. Car one, aim, hit. Car two, you moved to aim, squaring up the shot perfectly when a bullet came whizzing toward you, and you had to duck back into the car. Miss. 

“Why the fuck hasn’t she had a gun this whole time?” Jungkook yelled from above the car as Namjoon took another risky turn, nearly throwing Yoongi out of the car. You reached your hand up to your ear, your hand covered in blood when you pull it back down to look at it. Shit. 

The shattering of the back window made you duck down behind the seat. Jungkook groaned slightly, falling slightly before he repositioned himself; the bullet that broke through the window must’ve hit his leg. 

You positioned yourself behind the headrest of the seat, now having better cover as you aimed again, only two cars left, and two bullets left in your gun. 

“Y/n, you’re bleeding-” 

“Yeah and I need to focus,” you adjusted your aim and hit, the car swerving sideways, taking the car behind it with it as it rolled out of control. You turned around, ducking back behind the seat and Namjoon turned down an alley. Jungkook’s leg was bleeding badly, blood soaking his dark jeans and running down the armrest it was resting on. 

He almost fell back into the car and into his seat, as you took his gun from him and put it in the trunk, not really knowing where else it could go so that you wouldn’t be afraid of it going off. “Y/n, Jesus, you’re covered in blood,” Yoongi looked terrified as his hands gently moved to cup your cheeks, looking all around to see where it was coming from 

“It’s just my ear, they bleed a lot; Jungkook’s in much worse shape than I am,” You said as you pulled out of his grasp, moving forward to see if there was anything you could do to help him while still in the car. 

“We’re not far, he’ll be fine,” Namjoon rushed through his words, taking occasional glances at Jungkook while trying to navigate the grid-locked town that you were in. 

Less than a minute later, you pulled into a seemingly deserted parking lot right next to an old factory of sorts; not unlike the one Yoongi took you the day you met. You all rushed out of the car to help Jungkook; Namjoon and Yoongi carried him as you opened the unlocked door Namjoon instructed you to get for them. You all rushed in from one side of the building as Jin and the others rushed in from the other, a large group of men you could only assume to be some of his men right behind them. 

“L, go take care of the car, everyone else, secure the perimeter. What happened?” Jin yelled out orders, his men dispersing as he helped Yoongi and Namjoon get Jungkook onto a table. 

“Jungkook got hit, I need to get the bullet out,” Namjoon spoke clearly as he tore open Jungkook’s pant leg, getting better access to the wound as Jin started turning on some large lights that were already set up around the table. 

“Shit, Y/n, are you okay?” Jimin rushed over to you, Hoseok and Taehyung following right behind him. 

“It’s her ear, she wouldn’t let me look at it-” 

“Because it’s fine,” you spoke as Jimin pushed your hair to the side to get a better look. You could tell by the look on everyone's faces that it didn’t look great, but it wasn’t something you were too worried about as you looked over at Namjoon, who had forceps in Jungkook’s leg. 

Jungkook groaned loudly, almost yelling as you rushed over to him, grabbing his hand and helping hold him down as he squeezed onto you, pain coursing through him. Jin was holding his leg down next to you as Namjoon stayed focused on getting the bullet out, everyone else slowly moving around you to watch as he pulled the bullet out, which thankfully hadn’t fragmented. 

“Bullet’s out, checking for any bits of glass,” Namjoon spoke coolly as he picked up a pair of glasses with surgical loupes attached to them, and went back to Jungkook’s injury. Jungkook’s grip had relaxed significantly as he looked up at you, brow furrowed tightly as you could tell he was trying to hold back from gripping onto you any harder. 

“You sure my leg’s worse than your face?” Jungkook joked as he noticed the blood that was not only covering half of your face and neck, but had completely soaked through a rather large portion of your shirt. Namjoon looked up for only a second before he moved back to Jungkook’s leg. 

“She’ll be fine, it’ll only take me a few minutes,” Jin looked over at you in unison with Namjoon, shock covering his features, as he hadn’t noticed you yet. 

“Yoongi, you mind taking over for me?” Yoongi quickly moved over to Jin’s spot, holding Jungkook’s leg down as he had been before Jin’s hand met your shoulder. “Let’s clean you up a bit,” You looked down at Jungkook, who gave a single nod before you left him, Jin pulling you back towards a bathroom. 

“Here,” he spoke calmly as he handed you a paper towel he’d just wet from the sink before he started wetting another one. You started wiping your face as you moved in front of a mirror, where you gasped at the sight of yourself. 

“I thought everyone was being dramatic,” you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself as you started wiping the blood from your cheek and neck. Jin smiled with you as he wrung out his paper towel, waiting for you to need a replacement.

“That happens sometimes, it’s just shock: it stops you from feeling the pain as it’s happening,” 

“Y/n,” You turned around, Hoseok standing at the door. “Namjoon said he can look at you now, he’s just finishing stitching up Jungkook,” You nodded and followed him out of the room after throwing away your paper towel. 

“There’s our hero,” Namjoon smirked as he looked up at you, still finishing up Jungkook. “Just sit down over there, I’ll be over in just a second.” 

“Hero?” Jin questioned, suddenly a lot more interested in what happened on the mission than he was previously. 

“Yeah, you should’ve seen her,” Namjoon spoke proudly as he made his way over to where you were seated, moving one of the lights with him before he propped it up on your right side and pulled up a chair to sit next to you. “She shot everyone's tires, only reason we got out of there alive,” 

“You can shoot?” Jin looked almost taken back, a sly smirk still twitching on his lips. “Why didn’t you say anything, we could’ve been using you,” You shrugged. 

“No one asked,” 

-

Namjoon finished cleaning up your ear before wrapping it in gauze, and you all piled into Taehyung’s van and went back to the safe house. After getting Jungkook settled into a room, Yoongi insisted on staying in your room with you, not wanting to give anyone the chance to get back at you again. 

“I wanted to thank you,” Yoongi spoke carefully, as though he’d gone over the words he was saying over and over again before speaking them aloud. You turned to look at him, standing by the doorway as you stood next to the bed. “You know, for saving our asses,” You smiled as you looked down at the bed you were about to climb into. 

“I figured I owed you one,” You crossed your arms over your chest as you walked up to him, stopping a few feet from where he was standing. He smiled lightly, nodding his head as he avoided your eyes. 

“Where did you learn to do that, anyway?” He asked, straightening himself out to match your stance, his arms crossing. You shrugged as you let your arms fall. 

“My uncle used to take me shooting when I was a kid. Said no boys would ever want to fuck with a woman that could shoot them in the dick from fifty yards away,” You chuckled as you remembered the day he said those words; you’d hit your first target from fifty yards, and he was so proud of you. He’d picked you up and spun you around before making you do it again so he could get it on video. 

Yoongi’s expression fell slightly; he wished your uncle had been right. “Guess it’s kind of fucked up now, given the situation we’re in,” yiu spoke softly, still smiling softly. Yoongi shook his head and took a few small steps toward you. 

“No, I don’t think so,” His eyes moved to the side, staring into space as he thought for a moment. “Well, maybe a little bit, but if anything I think the fact that you have the capability to do that kind of damage and still choose not to is incredible,” 

You felt your face begin to heat up as he carefully studied your features. Every new thing Yoongi learned about you made you so much more endearing to him. All the pain you’d gone through and the struggles that set you back; yet you were still positive despite everything. And even now, after everything, you were still positive. You always found a reason to be happy, a reason to crack a joke and try to lift everyone else’s spirits, regardless of the pain you were in. 

You quite literally got shot in the head earlier today and still made sure Jungkook was okay before you even began to worry about yourself. You saw everyone struggling to keep you safe and in less than six bullets saved them all. Everything about you seemed to make him want to know more, to see more of who you really are. 

“I don’t know if incredible is the right word; I mean you have the same ability that I do, I don’t see you killing people that aren’t threatening you,” The heat in your face only got warmer as you looked anywhere but Yoongi’s face. He couldn’t help but smile lightly as you spoke. How could you still be so adorable to him now, after everything? 

“I also haven’t gone through what you have. And people generally don’t threaten me because of the people I’m affiliated with. That, and I’m not near as good with a gun as you are. I stopped paying attention for half a second and nearly got shot,” You smiled, finally bringing your gaze back to meet his. 

“Well I actually did get shot,” You joked, blushing like an idiot. Yoongi spoke to you differently than what you were used to. Even with Zeke, who was overly complimentary and always finding a new way to make you feel special or important, he never made you feel like this. 

He would fuck up and then smother you with affection. Flowers, chocolates, dinner out at an actual restaurant while he showered you with praise. He’d always tell you how pretty you looked and how he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have you. 

And even though the rest of the guys didn’t mean to, they all looked at you with a certain level of pity. They all meant well, but it was impossible to avoid. 

But with Yoongi, it was different. 

It was all in the small details. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, how much he wanted you to be safe, even if he wasn’t the one keeping you safe. When he touched you he was gentle, always watching your reaction to anything he did to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable; kept his emotions in check so he didn’t scare you. 

Nothing he did was to benefit him. He didn’t like you for his own selfish wants; he liked you because of the person you were. 

“How is that, by the way?” His hand came up and gently brushed your hair back so he could see your ear, still bandaged up the same as the last time he saw it. You flinched away slightly, the side of your head still thumping. He stilled for a moment before he let your hair move back down and moved his hand to cup your cheek. 

“Not bad, I suppose. Mostly just worried about how the chunk missing from my ear is going to look,” Yoongi shrugged, looking over at the small strip of tape peeking out from behind your hair. 

“Pretty badass, if I had to guess. Especially when you tell the story of how you got it,” You scoffed, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “Something so small doesn’t really matter. We’re all safe and happy; the way a little bullet wound looks isn’t something you need to worry about. Not now, anyways,” His voice was low and rough as he spoke as the two of you got gradually closer together, almost as if an invisible magnet was pulling you into him unconsciously. 

He closed his eyes as your foreheads met, his thumb rubbing your cheek gently as he sighed, almost sounding relieved. You just stood like that for a moment, your hands clutched onto his shirt, one of his hands on your cheek and the other resting in his pocket as you leaned into one another. 

Yoongi had a way of making you feel safe even in these vulnerable moments. There were no expectations, no requirements for his affection. He held you because he wanted to, because it felt good to be near you, not because he wanted something out of it. 

So there you stood, completely safe in one another's presence.

Taglist: @pamzn @fvcuidk @cybm1n @limiworld @scuzmunkie @hyunjingin @nellyboosworld @giselleg7784 @zaeve @lovelgirl22 @rosquilleta @kooliv @bangtannie7 @strawberryjimin13 @anjoellamorte @limitlessdespondency @lalaoise @roxy1205 @lavender-ivy @orangecarrotlemon @billy-jeans23  @jwlmnbt @artemis1862 @luaspersona @wittyreader @be0mluver  @acquiescence804 @dustyinkpages @namjoonsbuspass @damiiworld @cynicalbitch666 @rosiejunnie @dahliasbouqet @bxcndd @neverthefirstchoice @kisuga @idkjustlovingbts @xyahrinx @jksteponme @hobicakess @lifestragedy @kpop-khh-writer-trash

[our-destiny]

If you’re comfortable with it can I request a blurb or headcannons (whatever you prefer) with yandere Bucky Barnes with a darling who never wears anything that goes above the knee but eventually they get comfortable (assuming they haven’t been yoinked at this point) with Bucky that they take a chance and wear something that’s above the knee, and they just have a lot of SH scars on their thighs. I struggle with it still so it’d be v comforting.

That or a darling with an eating disorder because they feel like they don’t deserve to eat, or others deserve it more than them (I also struggle with this) (multiple skill issues on my part👎)

Tyyy!

-💪🌝

Thank you for sending in a request, in this post I'll do SH scars but I'll do another post for an ED, and I'll link it here when I'm done. Anyway, we're gonna do headcanons! <33 Also I hope this helps comfort you bb

Yandere Bucky sees GN!Darling's self harm scars

Trigger Warnings: Self harm (both past and present), implied suicide, stalking, kidnapping, Bucky's a perv and watches you change + a sappy note at the end from yours truly - if I missed anything please let me know

Want to read more of my work? Check out my Masterlist

. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . *  ✯. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ .

First off, our baby boy here definitely stalks you, and has probably seen your scars when he'd watches you get changed (little pervert). So when he sees you wearing something that shows them, he won't be very surprised. Chances are he'll just gloss over them and not mention them to hopefully make you more comfortable. But let's talk about how he first felt when he saw them.

Bucky was absolutely heartbroken when he saw them. You hurt yourself? Why? He thinks you're the best person in the world, he would move Heaven and Earth for you, what made you do that? He's not judging you, no he would never. He's just worried.

He probably stays awake at night for the first few days when he finds out. Worrying if he's gonna lose you, or if he's done something wrong. His stalking gets more intense, wanting to make sure you don't do it again, or hurt yourself worse.

If they're fresh ones he thinks about confronting you. About giving you a long speech about how he loves you, trying to intervene and help. But then he remembers that you don't know he knows. He shouldn't know. So that idea gets scrapped. So now he has two options.

1. Take you home with him (he doesn't like the word ''kidnap'') so he can physically stop you, even if he has to tie you up or lock you somewhere.

Or 2. Physically stop you by just taking away whatever you're using to hurt yourself. Knives would be the easiest, he'd just take them when you weren't looking, and if you bought more he'd take them, too. But if it's something else (your own nails, burning yourself, hitting yourself) he'd have to do something else. In that case, he'd be forced to take you, to keep you by his side and under his watch so you didn't hurt the person he loves any more.

Either way he is incredibly worried, and would act as soon as possible to try and help you from the shadows. He'd also insist that he's here for you, that you can call him whenever you want, even if it's the middle of the night, your safety comes above anything of his. He just wants to make sure you stay by his side, and happy. Is that so bad?

If they were old ones and healed up he wouldn't be as worried but still heartbroken.

Even the thought you did something like that just makes him want to cradle you and kiss your cute face all over, reassure you for hours on end. But he can't, because you don't know that he knows.

Either way, he becomes a lot more clingy and reassuring, telling you he's here for you if you should ever need him and showering you with even more love. Again, once you actually showed him, he wouldn't mention it or make a big deal out of it, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or pressure you into talking. But if you do want to talk, he's all ears. And has snacks and cuddles at the ready to comfort you.

As always, don't hesitate to reach out if you are struggling, there are many resources available to help you, pkease use them. Even if you feel no one cares, I care. And I love you. So take care of yourselves <33

[kidrauhlschik]

Hard To Let Go - KSM POV

~ Hard To Catch - Strike One can be a stand alone - this is Seungmin's POV ~

The term Strike Two comes from baseball, where a batter is allowed Three Strikes at a fairly pitched ball before being called out; thus, a batter with two strikes has but one more chance to hit a fair ball.

~ please read the warnings. ~

~ TW

Warnings: ANGST w a happy ending, depression, explicit injuries, self harm, anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts, SUICIDE ATTEMPT!TW (PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF IT MAY BE TRIGGERING), if this would affect you in anyway, please steer clear and stay safe. Put your mental health first! lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: Strike one can be a stand alone, but i really wanted to explore Seungmin's little depressive era, and I may make a Strike Three as an epilogue lol. THIS IS NOT A STAND ALONE THIS IS AN ADDITION TO THE FIRST PART BUT IT IS NOT NECESSARY.

Word count: 8.2k

~ TW

Choosing to walk away from your door was difficult. He wanted to knock again but at the end of the day, he knew better. He is Kim Seungmin after all. It felt odd for him to knock on your door after facing rejection. He was practically used to it from you at this point. However, walking away from your building, his brain started going in millions of different directions. That was very unlike him, but getting close to the end of the year, he began to get worried.

Was he genuinely beating a dead horse? Were you never going to see him in the way that he sees you?? A part of him feels as if he should respect your wishes but at the same time, Seungmin wasn't accustomed to losing. Ever.

Maybe by graduation he could accept the fact that you would never see him in the same way that he sees you, but he didn't want to. A part of him felt as if you cared for him too.

When he was halfway to his dorm, he got a bad feeling, but he passed it as the rejection you had just given him, which made his heart ache, it did not make sense to him. He had always been genuine with you, always trustworthy, and always there for you. He spoke of you in the highest regard. To him, you were everything. Would you never love him back? Or at least give him a chance to prove himself to you?

He’d never pressure you to anything. Which is why he kept all of his despair from your rejections, hidden and masked from everyone.

Although he was lost in his thoughts, he heard footsteps approaching him. They were fast, so much so, that before he could fully turn around, both of his arms were being held by two people, one on each side.

Panic obviously set in. His thoughts stopped, and his fight or flight instinct set in. It was hard to put up a fight when a bunch of men were around him. He wasn't sure of how many, but it was definitely more than five against one.

Despite his disadvantage, Seungmin still managed to free one of his arms. With his right fist, he was able to make contact with the chin of one of the men. In retaliation, they held him back once again, and the same guy that Seungmin managed to land a punch on, returned the favor by landing a hit near his eye.

After recovering from the hit, Seungmin tried to open his eye, only to be met by complete darkness. The guy that had hit him managed to hit him with enough force to break the skin above his eye, causing the blood to pool through his vision . Had the guy aimed a bit lower, Seungmin’s actual eyeball could’ve been seriously hurt.

It would only get worse from there.

The next thing he knew, a sharp pain came to his left leg. He heard his bones breaking before he could actually feel them. That caused him to drop to one knee.

He heard laughs and rambling but his brain focused on the pain coming from the rest of his body. They were restless. Anytime he would try to look up or stand, another hit would land on his gut, or someone would step on his broken knee.

Once he fully dropped to the ground, he felt someone step on his wrist, the pain was so intense that he was scared his skin and bone would rip from the impact. At that point, he was too confused to understand the situation, all he knew was that he was supposed to leave. Sadly, the people that were holding him down had different plans.

Next thing he knew, one of the guys that was holding his arm, brought his arm up and kneed his elbow so that his elbow would fold backwards; that was a pain that he never imagined he would feel.

The punches and kicks didn’t stop. They were mocking him. Whoever they were, they wanted to make sure Seungmin wouldn’t be able to get back up.

He wondered what would have happened if he had never gone to visit you. He would have probably practiced for the upcoming game with the guys. Instead, his thoughts were racing back to when he was with you.

As the group left him blue and bloody, all he could think about was you. It all led to you.

He stared at the stars above. The sky was clear, but to him he could only see the blurs up above.

He wondered if he would die. How ironic. After all, you'd end up being the death of him. That wasn't true though, but he had no one else to blame. So he chose that the person at fault would be you. After all, if it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have been walking home this late on his own.

It's irrational, but as his vision began to fade from all the hits to the head he'd gotten, all he could think of was your smile. How you laughed when he picked you up in the baseball field after you enjoyed his passion with him. His last thoughts before he lost consciousness were of your rejection. You dismissing him like you'd done before.

He felt stupid.

He hoped that he wouldn't wake back up.

~

When he finally opened his one functioning eye, he automatically closed it again in response to the fluorescent lights.

"Min." It was Chan's voice.

"It'll be okay man. We are all here for you." Of course it would be Chan as the guiding voice. That alone, made Seungmin concerned. His brain seemed to block off the night before, it was like trying to catch up to something he wasn’t there for. All he knew is that he wanted to get up, he wanted to move and inspect his surroundings, but he couldn't even achieve that. It was confusing to him.

"Y/N is on her way." That name. Your name. He fought his fuzzy thoughts to remember why your name mattered so much at the moment.

"No" It was barely audible, but that's all he could manage to say after just waking up.

"Hey guys, the doctor is here." That was Minho's voice, Seungmin could tell, even thought he couldn't even see him yet.

He heard a couple of footsteps. He couldn't quite understand the situation yet, but he assumed that the guys were making space for said doctor.

For a second he wondered why a doctor would be relevant in the situation but then his mind started racing once again.

"Hey Seungmin, how are you doing?"

He didn't open his eye.

"Seungmin, I'm your doctor. My name is Dr. Jae-Soo Hun. I'm here to help you. Can you hear me?"

At the question, Seungmin tried his best to open one eye to show the doctor that he was conscious, which was very difficult considering how many painkillers he was under, which probably didn’t help the slowness of his brain at that moment. Once again, Seungmin managed to open his eye because after all, he was still the best at everything.

"Doctor?" Was all he could muster.

"We have taken your vitals. You have no damage to any of your vital organs and it looks like you'll recover like a champ in that regard." Champ. Seungmin had always been a champ. He knew that. "However, you did take some serious hits." That made it click. He finally remembered that after he left your place, he was caught by surprise and beaten. The doctor’s words made Seungmin want to chuckle at the understatement, but he didn't have enough energy to do so.

"What..." He took a heavy breath, "What does that mean?"

The doctor sighed and responded, "It means that you are very strong, but a full recovery will almost seem impossible based on what your X-ray exams tell us. However,-"

"However?! Is that not enough?" It was Changbin to butt in. The doctor didn't take him into account though, he kept on explaining.

"That means that you should have died. You're lucky to be with us right now." Seungmin’s first thought was that the doctor was being a bit dramatic. Sure, he was jumped but it couldn’t have been that big of a deal. Right? He’d recover just like he’d recovered from previous injuries in his past. At least that’s what was running through his brain.

"I'll be okay for the upcoming game right?” He looked at his teammates, but the guys, wearing somber expressions, were looking at ground, unwilling to make eye contact.

"Kim Seungmin, it’s a miracle that you’re alive right now. You suffered enough blood loss to have permanent brain damage in the best case scenario. Based on the damage caused by the assault, one wrong hit would have killed you on the spot.” The doctor stood tall. Making his point clear.

"Does that mean I can't play the next game?” To him, what the doctor was saying were just words. There is no way that the perfect Kim Seungmin would ever miss a game. Everyone knew that it was on Seungmin to lead the team to the finals, but no one anticipated what was to come.

"I apologize Mr. Kim, but your right wrist is shattered, and so is your elbow."

Seungmin immediately became clear headed at the doctors words. His right arm? That meant that he couldn't throw a ball, he couldn’t bat, and that he couldn’t catch. Dread fell heavy on his chest, his breathing halted as he actually took in reality.

The doctor continued, "Your left knee is also broken, and you spine took a bit of damage as well.”

"Okay so I can skip one game," He could recover right? It would take some time, but he is sure that he would be fine for the last game of the season. “But I can come back this year right?”

Unfortunately, the doctor looks at him grimly.

"Mr. Kim. I am afraid that you will have to leave your baseball career behind in order to prioritize your recovery." Seungmin couldn’t see, but Jeongin turns his back from the doctor to cry at the wall. Chan holds Felix’s shoulder as the pair try their best to not breakdown as well. Changbin looks as if he’s about to commit murder, and the rest of the guys are still looking at floor, trying to keep themselves together. They’re not mourning a player, they are feeling for Seungmin’s situation, because they all know what this will do to him.

"I can’t do that." Seungmin gathers himself again. "Baseball is everything to me. That’s my thing. That’s the thing I love the most." And you, but right at that moment, with each passing second, all the love he has for you is slowly turning into red hot hatred. Poison invades all memories that involve you.

"I'm sorry Mr. Kim, but in my professional opinion, that does not seem like an option based on your body's current state. You’re going to have to go through physical therapy for the foreseeable future. Perhaps, maybe in the far future, you could recover enough to participate in the sport.” It’s like the doctor was not aware of what he was saying, he had no idea that he was shattering Seungmin’s future like a wrecking ball on glass.

"Doctor, you don’t understand, I'm going to join the Lotte Giants." He looks at the guys who are still avoiding his gaze, “Guys! Tell him! You guys know me, tell him I’ll be fine!” His tone changes from confusion to desperation with every word. Almost begging for this reality to be a dream.

"Mr. Kim..."

Seungmin's eyes search the bed, almost hoping that his body will respond to his pleads. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t break through the pain holding him back.

“No…” His voice timid and broken. Chan thinks to himself that he’s never seen Seungmin this way, not in the slightest. One of his best friends, the rock to support on, the comedic relief to fall back on through tough times, the guy who is always there for everyone. How is he supposed to help him? He knows what Seungmin truly wants, and it pains Chan that he can’t help him through that.

If they were under different circumstances, Minho would laugh, because if any of the guys were in Seungmin’s current state, Seungmin would go and make a deal with the devil to help them out. Minho would do the same for him. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the devils number, so all he can do is let the silent tears stream down his face with a bitter smile.

Seungmin truly breaks when he catches a glimpse of Felix and Changbin. Felix has tears streaming down his face, and he is trying his best to keep quiet, while Changbin let's silent tears fall down his cheeks as he stares at the doctor, his face being unreadable between anger and sadness.

Tears unwillingly begin to catch up to the champ. Finally understanding how dire the situation is, reality finally settles in. His delusions begin to fade and he starts seeing the world for how it truly is. Cruel. Unfair. Brutal. That was a side of the world Seungmin had never seen before. The go-to-lucky guy was getting his light dimmed because the universe decided to finally show him what reality is truly like.

"Please get out." Seungmin''s voice is cold and harsh, which was very unlike him.

"Seung-" Chan tries to reason with his friend before he is cut off.

"and don't tell Y/N. I don't want to deal with this, I don't want to deal with anyone, much less the pity."

Through sobs, Felix manages to speak, "Seungmin we don't pity you."

"Get out!" It's more of a plead than a command. The guys do not know that the second they finally walked away, Seungmin broke down to pieces. If he could've trashed the room he would've, but instead, he thrashed around the bed to the best of his ability as silent sobs caught in his throat at the acknowledgment that his future is non-existent.

Everytime he closes his eyes, he sees your face. The image of every rejection you have given him replays in his mind. If he hadn't gone to you, he would be fine. It's technically your fault. His downfall is all because of you. The person he loved the most is the cause of his demise, and he doesn't think he could ever recover from that.

The fact that he still loves you is poisoning his brain. It feels like a betrayal to himself. The love becomes toxic in his blood, every bit of affection turns into red hatred.

The thought of his resentment towards you simmers in his brain as he calms down and looks at the white ceiling. He continues reliving the night prior, yet he can't remember who the culprits of his incident were. He never had a chance to pinpoint them, his first priority was to get away, but he never could.

The rest of his hospital stay becomes miserable for him. Starting off from the events that took place when you tried to visit him.

All he could think about was your selfishness as you plead with him. Every word becomes more and more hypocritical. Every encouragement is a lie. The pain in his body and the stress of the situation becomes too overwhelming for him.

He wanted to share his pain. When he took everything out on you he felt relief, but something about being the reason tears were streaming down your face irked him. He knew he felt guilty. After so long of being the reason for your smile, and wanting nothing more than to make you happy, causing misery for you felt off. He pushed through those feelings and turned them into pride. He should feel proud. After all, you’re the reason he’s lying there, broken.

Useless.

~

He only allowed Jeongin to take him home from the hospital, the youngest being his closest friend. Yet, he didn’t speak to him much at all.

“How are you feeling?” He would keep on asking, only to be met by tight lips and silence, which was more than enough according to Seungmin.

Seungmin refused to ask for help, luckily his friends would come by without asking first. They’d cook for him, though he didn’t eat much. They’d clean for him here and there, but Seungmin wasn’t doing much aside from lying in bed and simmering in his own misery.

You’d come too, but he never let you come inside.

The guys would question him in the beginning, wondering why he had it out for you specifically, but they stopped bringing you up when he finally responded with, “I was coming from her house when it happened.” Knowing Seungmin’s mind was probably a riddle at the moment, they just assumed that the anger would pass, leaving just despair for the broken boy, but the anger stayed to infect more than the relationship between you and Seungmin.

It all started one night when he was alone. He simply wanted to use the restroom. All he had to do was get out of bed, hop in his chair, and make his way to the bathroom. Simple.

He never struggled for anything, so having to do such a simple task seemed like nothing but a small task. Things changed when he was trying to get out of his chair by gripping the porcelain counter with his good hand, and his hand slipped on the surface.Leaning forward, he tried to catch himself, but was caught off guard by his own weight on just one hand. He hit the ground hard, with his good hand trapped between his body and the floor. His body at an awkward angle between the chair, the counter, and the toilet, the circumstances making it almost impossible for him to move.

His face laid on the bathroom tile, features contorting in pain, it dawned on him once again how useless he felt in his situation. He couldn't use his right arm to wedge himself to a different position without pain shooting through his body. He kept on trying to use his good leg to find a stable footing or grip on his surrounding, only to flop it around to no avail.

Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face for the first time since that day in the hospital.

This life didn't feel like his own. The golden boy would have been out tonight, maybe eating barbecue with his friends, or maybe singing karaoke with you.

You.

His anger slowly took over his sadness as it had before.

He didn't need you, or anyone for the matter. He only needed himself. He couldn't rely on anyone because if he did, he would be vulnerable again. He would be open for the world to come back and break him down, and he couldn't allow that.

So instead of wallowing in self pity on the bathroom floor for any longer, Seungmin used his broken hand to get a grip on the cold tile. The cast making it a bit more difficult to angle himself properly. Despite the shooting pain that felt as if his bones were on fire from the pressure, he forces himself to work through the pain. He needed to prove to himself that he could do it.

After a few agonizing minutes Seungmin was back in his chair. Panting from the exertion while holding his casted arm, he willed his arm to go numb.

Once he caught his breath, he made a mental note to start working out in whichever way he could to make up for his unusable limbs. At the thought he started laughing, slowly at first, but gradually cackling at himself. The fingers on his good hand reach his thigh and he began digging his fingernails on the bare flesh. As his laughter died down, he glanced down to see scratch marks.

Pathetic.

He thinks to himself because of his behavior. He’s never been like this. Maybe because things had been too perfect before, his glass mansion had shattered and now he had to walk through glass for the first time in his life.

~

After the bathroom incident, Seungmin began to lock his door, opting to ignore the knocks, texts, and calls of not just you, but the rest of the world as well.

The task of shutting everyone out became significantly more difficult when he had to go back to school.

After being in a wheelchair for a month, and excelling in his physical therapy, the hospital gave him the clearance to start using crutches. Which meant, it was time for him to go back to school, and to confront all of the people he’d been ignoring for the past couple of weeks.

Chan and Changbin had been the first to approach him on his way to class.

“Hey Seungmin!” Changbin appeared in front of him seemingly out of nowhere, and when Seungmin tried to go around him, his eldest friend blocked his way.

“Hey man, where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering us? We’ve been worried. The only reason we haven’t called the cops to do a wellness check is because the hospital said you’ve been going to your physicals.” Seungmin finally looks up at Chan, but he continues. “I understand you’re going through a lot man, but you can’t just ghost us like that.”

To all of his friend’s concerns, Seungmin merely responds with a question. “Why did you check with the hospital about my personal business?” The guys’ expressions fell.

Seungmin was somehow colder than he had been before. He wasn’t really himself when he left the hospital, but the guy in front of them right now was worlds apart from the friend who they may have lost.

The old Seungmin was kind, always smiling, and he couldn’t stand to see anyone down. The second he walked into the room, the energy shifted, brightening up everyone’s spirit. This Seungmin radiated soul-sucking hatred.

Changbin holds back any furthering questions, opting to ease the mood, “Hey man, we just wanted to make sure that you were alright. It’s been pretty shitty without you around.” He smiles to himself, more from awkwardness than genuine joy.

"I'm perfectly fine." He was not. "With everything that has happened, I just feel like I need to be on my own," Chan tries to interrupt him, but Seungmin continues. "I want to be on my own." Lies. "You guys are too overwhelming, I'm going through enough shit as it is. I don't want to deal with you guys as well." The last thing Seungmin needed was to be alone, but he didn't know that yet.

Chan being the person that he is wanted to talk to Seungmin, and tell him that avoidance was not going to solve his problems, but before he could say anything, Changbin put his hand on his shoulder, pulling him back.

In his head, Seungmin was right. This just proved it. If they cared, they would have said something to him, they would have broken the door down of where he hid, they would have called the cops for a wellness check to get a point across. He forgets that not everyone is like that.

Not everyone is how he used to be.

"I'll get going now." The two step aside to watch Seungmin slowly make his way to class.

His first time seeing Minho, Hyunjin, and Han went pretty much the same as it went with Changbin and Chan.

Nothing prepared him to see Felix and Jeongin in his doorstep, seconds down from forcing his door open.

After they'd been knocking for an hour, and when they started threatening to tear the door down, Seungmin finally made his way to his door.

"What do you two want?" He said as Felix was in the middle of knocking. Again.

They both looked surprised that he would even open the door in the first place. Almost expecting for the golden boy to hide away like he had been as of lately.

With just one glance, they could tell that this was their only shot.

Felix was the first person to break the silence. "Are we not your friends?" He hoped to talk him out of his reclusiveness.

"No." Seungmin responded without missing a beat.

The two were at a loss for words. They expected a lot, a breakdown, a screaming match, a heart to heart, but a denial felt out of place.

"Seungmin, I know you're going through a hard time," Felix starts but he gets interrupted before he could finish his sentence. "Do you Felix? Do you really know what I'm going through?" Seungmin challenges.

Always the most level headed, Felix defends, "No. I don't know what you're going through, which is why we are here in the first place."

"Then leave." Seungmin goes to shut his door, until Jeongin's voice cuts through the tension.

"You're my older brother." Seungmin only looks at the ground, not daring to look at the youngest in the eyes. "Please let me be with you through this." Through this. Do they not understand that there is no 'getting through this'? This was his new tragic reality.

"There is no 'we' Jeongin." He looks at the youngest. Felix and Jeongin looked hopeless. They couldn't believe that their best friend was gone.

"We need you." The fox eyed man said with anger, but it was more outrage from Seungmin's words.

Seungmin laughs sarcastically. "You needed a baseball coach, well he's kind of out of business now." Once again, he goes to shut the door, but Felix chimes in next. "We need you for more than that."

Bile threatens to flood Seungmin's senses. They need him. Had everyone been a leach in his life? He wonders why he had allowed himself to be so good to everyone without expecting anything in return.

One more reason to hate himself. He was foolish. People took advantage of him. He couldn't let that happen ever again.

"Well, I needed you guys for the team." He stares straight at Jeongin for the next few words. "I'm not in the team anymore, so I don't have any use for either of you." He didn't mean that. "So if the two of you could stop pestering my life, I'd greatly appreciate it." Please don't leave. "Please don't bother me ."

He shut the door in their face, ignoring all calls and messages going forward, which all faded to few and far between. All except for yours.

~

He was stable, going through the motions, doing his school work to at least graduate, but he didn't have much motivation to do much else until one day he stayed in the library past 1AM.

He'd been mindlessly studying, and memorizing everything as he always did.

That was, until he was interrupted by a random stranger.

"You have a great singing voice." The words brought Seungmin out of his book. Blinking his way to focus on the source of the sound.

Was he singing? He didn't even realize.

"It was quiet but this place is a bit empty, I could heard you from a couple of seats down."

Oh.

He clears his throat before focusing on his textbook again. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," She said to catch his attention. He finally looked up to see her, and without a shadow of a doubt, she was gorgeous. "No need to apologize. Seriously, I would have thought you were a celebrity if you weren't in a college library." She moves to sit beside Seungmin, but an uneasy feeling settles in his gut. His skin begins to tingle with anxiety. Which was also new to him.

He chooses to ignore his uneasiness for now. It could have been the 1AM deliria.

"Do you really think so?" He asks. Was she being serious? Or mocking him? He never really thought he had any talent for singing. Nowadays, he doubted everything he did.

"I think that your voice is amazing. A golden voice if you will." She said in good nature.

She seemed beautiful, kind, positive, and most of all, she reminded him of you.

The mere thought brought him back to reality. The same reality in which he scratched through his recently uncasted wrist. Blood seeped through where he managed to break through his own skin. It was almost as if it distracted him from reality, but when the pain became too much, he realized it wasn't a distraction, but an escape.

He wiped his wrist on the fabric of his sweatpants, clearing his throat before slamming his book closed.

"Excuse me. I have to go." He start throwing all of his belongings in his bag before he moves to grab his crutches.

She stands up and walks around Seungmin. "Here let me help-" "Don't." She stands back, confused, but Seungmin looks at her. Eye to eye, almost challenging, which leaves her even more confused.

"Hey I'm sorry... I just thought that-" He interrupts her again, "I don't care."

As he walks away from her, he pushes all thoughts of you to the back of his head. All you ever brought him was pain, there was no point on even pondering on the fact that he felt like his heart was being suffocated from the memory of his past.

~ TW!

He had given the rest guys a proper rejection so they wouldn't chase after him. So why couldn't he bring himself to do the same to you?

If he was being honest to himself, he could hardly stand to look at you. Everytime he hears your voice, he gets reminded of everything he'd lost. His recruitment, his team, his friends, his passion, his dignity, and his heart.

Everytime you'd approach him, he simply ignored you, and tuned you out. The more you did it, the easier it became.

He didn't want to hear your apologies, or your pleads. He wondered what you truly wanted, and assumed that you just wanted to have your lovesick puppy back. Afterall, no one truly missed him, they simply missed all he used to do for them.

He told himself that he was better off, but in reality, he’d never felt more lost.

His life was always linear. He’d been the best at everything, so he’d never had to wonder what was next. Once it was so simple. Win in the play ground, get good grades, win baseball matches, get into a good school, go pro, get a family and just allow life to run its happy course.

Now everything that he knew was gone.

He felt hopeless, not knowing what comes next, was it even worth it to keep going to school? If he isn’t playing baseball, what else is there for him to do?

The dark thoughts approach the day of his birthday. He received calls from everyone, and the only ones he answered were from his parents.

“Are you doing anything fun to celebrate tonight?”

“Yes mom.” Was all he gave her.

To his parents, Seungmin was still the same, though he couldn’t play baseball, they knew the talented young man would find something else he was good at and excel in that. They knew that he had a strong support system, and a strong will, so they weren’t worried about their son.

If only they knew what Seungmin was really going through.

Turning a year older filled him with dread. He sat alone in kitchen table, silent tears rolled down his face and he just let them. His stomach roared with hunger but he didn’t have anything in the fridge. Why eat if he doesn’t need the energy anyway? Why celebrate his birthday if he was alone? Why age if he didn’t have a future?

He saw nothing after college. Why live for a future that is not even there?

His left hand makes its way to his uninjured right arm and begins to manically scratch the inside of his arm where a cast once sat. A new habit of his, one that always leaves him with scars where his nails had dug so harshly into his own flesh.

He tells himself that he deserves it. If he was better he wouldn’t be in this situation. If he was better he wouldn’t be hurting himself. If he was better…

He goes to stand, but forgets his own immobility for a split second, leading him to land on the floor. Sobs rip through his body, was the room amplifying his cries? He hits his fists against the ground in desperation. Maybe if he begged loud enough, the world would open up and swallow him whole, freeing him from his pain.

Maybe he could free himself of his pain. The worst thoughts run through his head as he crawls towards the knife drawer. It would be for the best right? He'd be ridding the world of one more problem.

As he grips the handle of one of his sharpest knives, his vision begins to blur. He could hardly breathe and his tears make everything cloudy.

He hovers the knife over his previous scars. He can feel them, as if they itched to be reopened.

As the tip of the blade digs into his skin, his hands begin to shake, he could hardly keep the grip on the handle of the knife. He felt as if he was drowning. He tried to focus on his task but his brain had a funny way of seeing things.

How pathetic would it be for someone to find him like this? Dead in his own kitchen on the day of his birthday. How ironic. He can see the posts and headlines, "The Golden Boy and his demise." The golden boy. He would laugh at the term if he were under different circumstances.

As he pushed the knife deeper into his skin, his breathing got more erratic. Why couldn't he at least do this?

He couldn't hold the knife anymore, it felt as if his hands cramped up. He brought his hand to his neck, trying to rip his own shirt open. He felt suffocated, as if he was choking on air, it was overwhelming.

He was going to kill himself.

He couldn't believe it. He wanted to die, but he didn't have the guts. Why couldn't he just die?

The kitchen was dark, and all that could be heard were hit gut-wrenching sobs.

How could one person be in so much pain? When would it end?

It felt like a lifetime before Seungmin stopped crying. He almost felt numb, as if he cried himself out, but he could do nothing but stare at the wall across from him.

There were no thoughts running through his brain, at least until a particularly loud thunder brought him back to reality.

He looked around the room, eyes swollen, and mouth dry. He couldn't even muster up the effort to move. All he did was listen to the rain outside.

A thunderstorm, so peaceful and full of life. He envied it.

Then, another sound would cloud his senses. It was a ringtone, particularly the ringtone he set for your contact. A soft melody to contrats the harsh storm outside. He tried to ignore it at first, but then the ringtone started over again, and again, and again. He wondered if you'd ever get tired of calling.

However, in the midst of the rain and the melody, he started humming to himself. A random tune at first, but slowly he began to formulate words along with his own melody.

Maybe it was because you called him, or maybe it was because he still loved you, but all of his memories of you came back to haunt him.

He began to wonder if he'd made the right choice. If he would have done things differently, would you still be there? Would you see him in the same way that he sees himself?

Though he doesn't want to think about you, he sings a small tune, that may have had you as the muse.

"If I hadn’t let it go in the end Will we ever be happy again? It’s useless, everything is useless, even if they say it’s useless Thoughts keep growing in my head Would it have been better if I did better? Would you have laughed if I did the opposite? It’s useless, everything is useless, even though I know everything Regret keeps growing in my heart"

He lays in the same spot for the rest of the night, repeating the same lyrics in his head over and over again until he could find the will to get up and write them down.

-

A week later, he was back to his new usual stoic self. He threw a hoodie on and got ready for class. Yet, he didn't expect for you to be on his doorstep as he walked out of his dorm.

Whatever game you were trying to play, he wouldn't fall for it. So he simply pretended as if you weren't there, assuming you wouldn't be there by the time he came back.

He was wrong.

Day in and day out, you remained in the same place. He never acknowledged you, and you never acknowledged him.

To him, you were like a mosquito that refused to leave him alone. Yet, after two weeks, he wondered when you'd even go to class, or cheer practice, or anything else for that matter.

He didn't allow himself to ponder on it much, because the more that he allowed himself to think, the more he would feel, and the more he would feel, the more he would hurt. Seungmin was tired of hurting.

Still, he'd lay awake at night wondering if you were foolish enough to sit alone in the hall of a bunch of men's dorms. Turns out, you were stupid enough to do so. Whenever he'd feel restless, he would look through his peephole and find you slumped over in the corner of his line of vision, and he could do nothing but sigh at your stupidness.

When week three rolled around, he began to wonder if you did anything aside from keeping guard by his door. He still wouldn't acknowledge you, but he assumed there was no way you made permanent residence in the men's hall.

He took it upon himself to find out just how stupid you were. Turns out, you were not only stupid, but also idiotic. After hearing your teachers say that you'd been absent for three weeks, Seungmin wanted nothing more than to kick you where it hurt most.

He questioned why you were doing this in the first place. Why couldn't you let him rot away in peace. Why did you always have to meddle in his affairs?

Why was it that when he finally pushed you out of his thoughts, you found a way to meddle back in?

~

After a month of constantly ignoring your presence, things became harder. Not because Seungmin learned how to forgive and let go, but because he was afraid that you'd be dead in the morning and it'd be his fault.

Totally not because a freezing cold thunderstorm hit the city, and totally not because he was worried about your well being.

He tried to forget that you were there, but every time he'd close his eyes to sleep, he could see you shivering under a thin towel, sitting outside for no reason whatsoever.

He tossed and turned until he was wide awake. "God-fucking-dammit." He hopes that once he makes his way outside, you'd given up, too cold to stand being stupid. Boy, was he wrong.

When he opened the door, he finds you in the same position he saw you last.

"You're going to die out there." He says while looking down at your shaking form.

"Y/N, go home." You pretended as if you couldn't hear him.

Without giving it much thought, he limped out and sat beside you.

You turn to face him, "Go-go inside." Your teeth were vibrating against each other. The freezing cold rain had taken its toll on you, but Seungmin had underestimated you. You were just as, if not more, hardheaded than he was.

He couldn't comprehend how you'd been out the for so long. The rain and the cold felt as if needles were piercing his skin with every drop.

"Seungmin." You said.

"Y/N." He challenged.

The two of you exchanged looks before breaking eye contact and looking forward again.

After a couple of minutes, he breaks the silence.

"Why?" He had begun to shiver as well. He couldn't believe that you had sat out there for hours through this hell.

You let out a small laugh, which sits odd with him. Had you finally gone mad?

"So you would talk to me." With a sad smile, you look at the ground. The six words made Seungmin shiver and he wasn't sure why. Yet they make something take over him, "C'mon, come inside." He struggles to get up, and immediately, you're at your feet trying to help him, but he pushes you away. He still doesn't want your help or your pity.

He tells himself that he would do the same for anyone else, ignoring the part of his brain that screams comfort at your form.

"You can take a shower in the spare room." He says, as he grabs his crutches once again, and makes himself towards his own room to shower as well.

"All of my clothes are soaked." Of course they are.

"I'll put some pajamas on the bed for you."

You nod and scurry off, which Seungmin is thankful for. He feels vulnerable in front of you, but he doesn't know how scared you were in front of him.

You didn't fear Seungmin, but you knew you walked a tightrope in his head.

Once Seungmin finally laid in bed, he hoped that you'd be graceful enough to leave before his classes started, but much to his dismay, you still lay on his couch as he rushes out of the door to make it to his early class in time.

He did not expect you to overstay your welcome, and to find you in his dorm when he came back that afternoon was a bit startling, especially after being alone for so long.

"Go home." Is the only thing he tells you once he walks in, but you ignore him.

A day later, he sits on the opposite side of the couch, but he doesn't say anything.

He wanted you to speak first. Why did you waste a whole month by his doorstep? Why couldn't you just forget him in the same way that everyone else had?

As he sat there, running through a million scenarios in his head, he heard you sniffling, and he almost wished that he hadn't looked up.

Your body shaking with sobs. Eyes shut, as tears streamed down your face. Mouth shut open, trying to muffle your cries. Hair a mess, hands shaking, face flushed, you seemed so vulnerable.

Every fibre of his being wanted to hold you.

Every fibre of his being still hated you.

"Seungmin?" He heard you, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to acknowledge you.

"Can't you tell that I love you?"

His world halted.

"Have you really not been able to tell that I have loved you since our second year?

It was a joke. It had to be. Just another futile attempt to get him to talk to you.

"Are you really that stupid? Seungmin, I have fucking loved you since that day when I couldn't land a flip. You came up to me and told me that I was worth something. How are you so dense?"

He remembered the day. It was the day you began to see him as a person. You finally saw through his golden persona, and saw the boy trying his best in the shadows.

He still refused to let his guard down. "Don't lie to me out of pity."

"Please shut the fuck up for a second?" That caught him off guard.

"Have you thought of how much you hurt me by cutting me off? You hurt everyone Seungmin." You stood up, and looked down at his sitting form.

You couldn't see the millions of thoughts running through his head. Had he hurt anyone? He thought that it was for the better to close himself off. Were you lying? The self doubt creeped into his head as it often did.

He began picking at his scabs before your next words.

"You are so much more than baseball. You're fucking Kim Seungmin. You are the guy that has always been there for everyone that you cared about, so it seems very fucking selfish to me that you refuse to let anyone be there for you." Your tears are shocking to him. Your tears aren't dramatic, but they're desperate, almost screaming into what Seungmin tried to ignore.

"You are the guy that brightened up my life for the longest. You are the fucking reason that I am still alive right now!" Your hands begin to shake, something Seungmin recognizes all too well.

"Have you thought about the fact that no one gives a shit if you can play baseball or not?! We knew that it hurt you, but we could've helped you through it. You're so obsessed with being perfect. We don't need you to be perfect!" He analyses your every word. Though he finds it hard to believe, he didn't ever think that anyone ever saw him as anything but perfect.

He sits in silence as your voice reaches a screaming point. "You are the reason I get up every morning. You are the reason I try my hardest everyday. If you aren't there, then what the hell do I have to fight for?!" Your breathing becomes rapid, which makes Seungmin regain consciousness in what feels like forever. "You are so much more than the golden boy-" You fall to the ground, unaware that Seungmin follows right next to you. "You're Seungmin." He sees you gasping for air, and he can't think of how to help you. Every emotion and thought that he has focuses on you.

"You're my-" Your words refuse to come out. "You're my Seungmin."

That's all it takes.

All of his makeshift walls crumble down at your words.

He still doesn't feel safe, but if he would risk it all again, tragically, it would be with you.

He sees you gasping for air but he doesn't know how to help.

As you begin to sob, he brings his unsteady hand to your back. The same hand that had done so much damage to himself. Yet, he doesn't think of that now. He only thinks of you.

You visibly recoil from his touch, and he almost pulls away.

"Y/N."

You're not hearing him. Your eyes search the floor, your lungs yearn release, and your chest begs for freedom,

"Seungmin." He hardly hears you.

He knew that you needed him, and although it was a cause of resentment at first, he couldn't help but think that if he were to be destroyed again, he'd risk the chance for you. All of the feelings he pushed back came crashing down all at once. So he did what helped him with the same scenario in the past.

He began to sing.

"If I hadn't let it go in the end Will we ever be happy again? It's useless, everything is useless, even if they say it's useless Thoughts keep growing in my head"

"Would it have been better if I did better? Would you have laughed if I did the opposite? It's useless, everything is useless, even though I know everything Regret keeps growing in my heart"

"In the еnd, I'm left alone at this night Our memoriеs become stars Put it over your head It is pouring endlessly The beautiful times we had together"

He noticed that your breathing was returning to normal.

"The moments sparkle come into me It shines in my heart today, I'm going to show you I can't forget you the way you are"

Once you can form coherent sentences, you tell him, "There are so many things that make up for what you lack."

A warmth erupts in his chest, and though he's not ready to trust anyone or anything again, he feels akay for the first time in a long time.

He doesn't feel alone.

He smiles at you for the first time in forever, and for the first time in a long time, he puts his arms around you, because his heart wasn't the only one that sat bare in front of you. You finally gave him yours in return.

~

[hailthegodsong]

OUR LOVE IS BORN

Masterlist

Chapter 11 ~ Barbeque

Content Warnings: toxic behaviour, jealousy, gaslighting, manipulation, alcohol as a form of relief, sexually coercive behaviour, relationship pressure/ sexual pressure, controlling behaviour, arguing, yelling, forceful kissing/ sexual behaviours, physical altercations/ domestic violence, bruising, injury due to violence, shock, mentions of car accidents, long last injury due to car accidents, past trauma, descriptions of severe injuries and surgical operations.

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING AND INTENSE CONTENT INCLUDING VIOLENCE IN A RELATIONSHIP AS WELL AS EMOTIONAL ABUSE/ MANIPULATION. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION !!!

The sun beamed into my squinted eyes as Josh and I plodded down the unkept pathways of Frankenmuths' town centre.

"Want my hat?" Josh asked, peering down at me struggling to see through the burning rays of sunlight.

"Mm, nah I'll be alright," I replied, knowing that Josh would be squinting into the same sun I was if he abandoned his navy cap.

But he didn't waste a second before slotting the cap onto my head. I smiled meekly, offering him a thanks as we continued walking down the street.

Josh had pointed me towards what felt like every retail and hospitality store in the area in search of a job, and my legs were beginning to feel like jelly as we continued.

The responses had been mixed. Some places were enthusiastic, offering me the exciting news that they were hiring, while others merely passed my resume back into my hands, giving me no more than a 'sorry, we aren't interested'.

Apart from the small intervals of job hunting, the day had been full of laughter and I was grateful for Josh's inability to keep quiet, leaving me happy and smiling each time I stepped into a store.

He waited outside each storefront for me patiently as I handed my resumes in, giving me space to pitch myself independently, offering me a bright encouraging smile before I entered and after I stepped out.

"How did it go?" he asked, energetically.

"Ehh, I'm not sure. The girl said she would take it to her manager for me. But I don't really mind if I don't get a word back from them. I wouldn't particularly like to work there anyways," I explained, peering back at the dingy diner we were walking away from.

Despite hoping for a nice, calm and enjoyable job, I decided to try every store we came across, just in case. No point in being picky if nobody was going to call back.

"Yeah, I don't know how I'd feel about you working there either," Josh commented with a grimace, causing me to smile. "Alright, looks like next up we have Scarlett's Books, it's a little book store. 'S the only one in town so it's very niche, I think you'll like it."

I let out a hum of appreciation as we approached the small store on the corner of the street. It was made out of almost entirely deep, oak wood, and a quiet hum of music drifted out of the front doors.

"Oh, and they sell vinyl in there too. Second-hand stuff," Josh smiled, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other in a tight thumbs up. "Good luck!!" He beamed.

"Thanks," I said back, stepping into the small store. It smelt faintly of lingering incense, and I let my eyes scan over the crowded bookshelves. Stacks upon stacks of unsorted packaged books and boxes were piled at the back of the store messily, and most customers I noticed were lingering by the front of the store where the books were stacked neatly on the shelves.

"Hello dear, can I help you with anything?" a croaky voice asked, and I turned to see an old man standing behind the register. His long white hair was fluffy around the weakened skin of his face, creases sinking in as he smiled warmly at me.

"Hi, I'm Layla, I was just wondering if you might have any job positions opening up at the moment, or if I could hand my resume in for future reference?" I spoke, keeping my voice quiet to match the volume of the area.

His eyes lightened up and he brought two hands gently together in a quiet clap.

"Oh, you're an angel! My lovely wife is very sick," he said meekly. "I was going to close up shop in the next few months. I can't keep running it - I needn't leave Scarlett alone another day longer," he explained, his hands waving in gestures, and his eyes boring into mine intensity.

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that," I consoled. "I would be happy to help in any way I can," I offered, knowing that if this kind old man asked me to, I would work here for free.

"Oh, wonderful. Just so wonderful. When can you start?" he asked, and my eyes widened.

"I-uh, I can start next week!" I said excitedly. Was this really happening?

"Perfect, perfect," he praised, stepping slowly around the counter and reaching his hand out to shake with mine.

I took his frail hand and shook it gently, and he sent me a large smile.

"W-what hours can you work dear?" he asked, voice a bit wobbly with age.

I thought for a moment, "Uhh, I have school until three in the afternoon most days so I can do after three, give or take tens minutes for me to walk here. And then I'm pretty much free at any point on the weekends," I answered, giving him a wide range of available times to scope which ones worked best for him.

"Okay, wonderful. Bertha has an in-home carer on... hm, let me think," he pondered.

I waited, mildly awkwardly as he looked up the ceiling in thought, wracking his brain for his answer.

Still in thought, he wandered back round to his desk and peered at a piece of paper through the spectacles that hung low on the bridge of his nose. "Ah yes, the carer is in on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Do you think you could work after school on the Monday and Tuesday? And maybe take one of the weekend shifts a week?"

I smiled, "I can absolutely do that. I can give you my phone number if you like. That way we can coordinate shifts and other things like that?"

"Yes that would be perfect," he agreed, "Though, you'll have to mind me, I'm not the best at technological things."

I laughed, "That's alright, I'll give you a call later on today, all you'll need to do is press answer."

We exchanged phone numbers, and with another heartfelt thank you, I left the store with a big smile on my face.

Josh was kicking rocks around the pavement with his hands clasped behind his back when I walked out.

At the sound of my arrival, he looked up at me and immediately smiled at the sight of the huge smile on my face.

"Now what does that smile mean Missy?" he teased, causing me to giggle.

"He gave me the job on the spot!" I beamed.

Josh's hands flew to my shoulders, grasping them tightly as he shook me around, "No way! Fuck yeah, Layla that's awesome!"

"Thank you! And thank you for showing me around all the places today, I probably would have only found half of them and missed out on the rest," I laughed.

"Ahh you don't give yourself enough credit," he waved a dismissive hand through the air, "I'm very proud of you."

Josh walked me home and we said our goodbyes outside the front of my house, as we organised the right time to meet for their gig. They were performing as openers for the biggest crowd they had ever done.

We decided I should wait for him outside my house at four, giving us enough time to drive to the venue, and then for the boys to set up for the show.

Once I made my way back inside, I messaged Adam to see if he wanted to FaceTime while I chose an outfit for the concert, missing his presence over the weekend.

As I was shuffling through my drawers for a belt that would match a pair of jeans on my bed, my phone rang.

I hopped over to it to see an incoming FaceTime from Adam.

"Hellooo," I greeted, propping the phone up onto my vanity and admiring as his handsome face came into view. He seemed to be lying in bed as he smiled at me through the screen.

"Hey," he replied.

I walked back over to my dresser to continue my hunt for a belt. "Watcha doing? I thought you were busy today?" I asked, feeling slightly upset over the fact that he had told me he was too busy to see me, yet he was lounging in bed.

"Just waiting for Oli to text me back," he cleared his throat, "And I am busy. Just got back from practice."

I felt guilty at my accusations, "Oh right, sorry. How was practice?" I asked.

"Eh, it was alright," he replied plainly.

"A-hah!" I exclaimed, pulling the long, red belt I was in search of out of my dresser.

I wandered over to my bed and put the belt up against the pair of jeans. "What do you think? Reckon these go together or is the red too much?" I asked, lifting the jeans up against my body to show him.

He hummed in thought, "I don't know. Yeah, maybe a bit much. But like, it doesn't look bad."

I frowned at the comment and returned to my dresser to find something new.

"What are you getting ready for anyways?" he asked.

"I'm going to the show my friends are playing in Saginaw, remember?"

"Ohh, yeah I remember. Joshua right?" he asked.

I laughed a bit, "Josh, yeah. And his brothers, and their friend," I explained.

"Ah right. Who are the brothers again?"

I tensed at the question, wondering if he knew of Jake and Oliver's hatred for one another. Surely Oliver wouldn't have told Adam about what went down on their porch, otherwise Oliver risked exposing his true colours.

"Um, Jake and Sam. Sam's a few years younger than us though."

"Right, right," he said in faux natural, "Jake... Kiszka?"

I cleared my throat, "Yeah."

Discomfort slid into my body at his silence, and I quickly pulled out the first belt I could find to redirect the conversation.

"What about this one?" I asked, holding them up against me again.

He stared for a moment, scratching the back of his neck. "M' not sure. You gotta try 'em on so I can make a fair judgement," he offered with a smirk.

"Uh, okay," I said apprehensively, taking myself and the jeans out of the camera's range and stripping my pants to the floor.

"Oh come onn," he complained, and I faltered confusedly.

I laughed in uncertainty, "What?"

I watched from a distance as he wiped a hand down his face, "Ugh, I don't know. You don't gotta go out of frame to change. I am your boyfriend, in case you forgot," he said, and I struggled to decipher whether the tone in his tone stemmed from humour or true annoyance.

Uncomfortably, I shimmied my jeans on quickly, bucking the belt before walking back into frame. "I know you're my boyfriend," I said, unknowing of anything else to say.

He huffed, "Yeah that looks nice," he said disinterestedly.

Was I being prudish for not changing in front of him? I was trying my hardest to be as good for him as he was to me, yet I never felt as if I was doing enough.

My mind wandered to the argument I had with Josh a while ago. His anger was directed at my actions of being closed off, and unable to open up. Maybe that was my flaw. Was I being irritating for not letting people in, making them feel unwanted or disliked?

I shook my head to rid it of the thoughts, pocketing the idea to think about another time.

"Oh! I was going to tell you, we're having a barbecue at my house next weekend and Dad said I could invite anyone I want. It's on Saturday evening, can you make it?" I asked.

"Yeah, that sounds fun, who else are you inviting?" he asked, sitting up.

"Probably not too many people. The boys next door are coming, and Aanya said she could come too," I explained.

"Who's Aanya again?" he asked, and I huffed.

"Really? She's like my only friend, Adam. How do you not know that?" I asked, letting a light laugh trace my words to soften them.

"Ah, sorry, sorry. I just forgot. But yeah, sounds fun, I'll come for sure."

"Okay, cool."

"Blue top for sure would be better," Adam commented as I held up an off-white halter top against a blue singlet in the mirror.

"Really? I feel like it'll be too much blue with the jeans," I commented.

"Nah, brings out your eyes," he flirted, and I raised a brow. I wasn't going to correct him that my eyes were in fact green and looked nothing like blue.

"Okay, I'll wear the blue one then."

We spent another couple of minutes on the phone, chatting mindlessly about menial things until Adam had to go as Oliver had arrived. The thought of Oliver so casually existing in my social circles made me cringe, but I knew that if Adam was happy, then so was I.

I plodded down the stairs after planning the outfit for the night, hunger dragging my feet straight to the kitchen.

I rifled through the fridge, pulling out condiments and ingredients to make myself a quick wrap, and when I turned to see my mum sitting at the kitchen island I jumped.

"Hey, you scared me," I joked. "When did you get in?"

Mum shrugged naturally, reading from a fashion magazine and sipping from a cup of tea, "Oh only about an hour ago. Where are you going?" she questioned, glancing at my attire.

"Josh, Jake and Sam, you know the boys next door?" I asked and she nodded, "They're in a band with their friend, they're playing at Saginaw tonight so I'm going to watch."

"Hmm, sounds fun," she said with a smile. "Has your Dad told you about the barbecue next weekend?" she asked.

"Yeah!" I answered excitedly. "It'll be really fun. You're um... you're coming right?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm inviting my new work colleagues too so should be nice to connect with everyone outside of work."

"Mmm, I bet," I commented, feeling a bloom of happiness in my chest at the first civil interaction I had had with Mum for an excessively long time. "I'm making myself a chicken wrap, you want one?" I offered.

She pondered my offer for a moment before agreeing, and I happily made us both a late lunch, melting into the conversation.

I had missed this. Missed talking to my mum. It felt just like it had before I got into the accident. Everything after that had been tossed and shaken and utterly ruined, and I feared it would never go back to the way it was before. I would never go back to the way it was before.

But moments like these restored my confidence. Reconnecting with the people I loved and having positive conversations was something I had and always would cherish.

Josh knocked on the front door at exactly 4:58, and I was utterly impressed by his punctuality. The drive was short, and Josh explained to me that the rest of the boys were driving with their parents, which was why we were alone in the car.

I had thankfully been able to drive stress-free, ignoring the persistent thoughts that reminded me of the last time we drove to Saginaw, forcing myself to calm down and enjoy myself.

Once we arrived at the venue, the venue staff placed lanyards over our necks and led us down a set of winding concrete corridors into a small, cozy room.

The room had two large leather couches with a worn, wooden coffee table in the centre. The table was already cluttered with drinks, guitar picks, wires, papers and more, and paired with the wallpaper which was peeling off, the room had a messy grungy feel to it.

We got comfortable on the soft leather, and soon the rest of the boys came through from their dressing rooms as they were dressed in their concert clothes.

It was still surreal for me to be in such a professional environment. The mere fact that the boys were waiting in a green room, and had their own dressing rooms was insane.

We all hung out in the room for a while, the boys helping themselves to beverages, while I picked on the assortment of snacks they had scattered over the table.

The main act soon joined us, and though it wasn't a band I was familiar with, I felt just as excited to meet them as the boys when I saw the way their eyes lit up as they introduced themselves.

I tried to follow along as they discussed music and band talk, most of which was completely foreign to me.

Though clearly exhilarated and excited, Josh constantly referred back to me during conversations. Whether it be through a look to see if I was paying attention, or his words which included me in whichever topic they were discussing, he never failed to help me feel included, especially in an environment where I fit in the least.

Eventually, the opening band left to prepare for their set, and we enjoyed our remaining time in the green room. I could feel that nerves were high, though none of the boys wanted to voice it, almost out of fear that it would make it come true. As if ignoring the nerves would make them go away.

I noticed the way Danny constantly ran his hands nervously through his hair, and how Sammy wiped his sweaty palms on his pants constantly. Josh, although a chatty person, was talking even more than usual, as if he too was fighting off the nerves of the biggest show they'd ever had to do. Jake on the other hand was talking far less than normal, disassociating with a dazed stare at the floor.

I tried to anchor them all, keeping the conversation focused on other things, so as not to hype up the anxious buzz that was already vibrating in the room.

Eventually, the time came for them to get on stage. I followed them as they approached the side of the stage, and we could hear the hum of chatter from the crowd beyond the curtain.

Josh blew out a tight breath and looked at me. "Break a leg!" I told him. He pulled me in for a hug with a nervous smile.

The lights dimmed and the crowd erupted in cheers. None of the boys looked back as they skipped onto the stage, the screaming crowd becoming deafening.

Josh sauntered to the microphone and introduced the band to the crowd with such confidence, that nobody would have guessed nerves were something he had ever felt. The first few songs went by incredibly. All four boys were playing to their absolute potential, and by the volume of the crowd, it was safe to say they were gaining significant attention.

The last couple of songs sounded brilliant too, although Sam slipped over a wire on the stage, earning a laugh from us all, but like a true professional, he got back up and continued playing, never missing a beat.

As the set ended, they all walked off stage, throwing picks and sticks into the crowd as they made their way towards me. They were all coated in a shiny layer of sweat, panting heavily with bright smiles on their faces.

"You guys were insane!" I exclaimed, and they all beamed at me.

"Thanks," Josh panted, pulling me in for a sweaty hug. A crew member bumped into me and I realised we were in the middle of where they were doing their jobs.

"C'mon let's get out of the way and get you guys some water," I suggested, moving back towards the green room.

"Water? I'm getting wasted tonight, baby!" Sam whooped.

"On a Sunday?" Danny pointed out, and I laughed when all of the boys groaned, clearly used to performing live on Fridays and Saturdays.

We all flopped onto the couches, and on cue, Karen and Lori burst through the doors. The main band's management followed behind them, congratulating them on their performance. We all settled onto the couches and the energy in the room turned absolutely wild.

Sam and Danny's eyes widened when the management team pulled out a bottle of champagne, "Rock n' roll doesn't give two shits if you're under 21," he joked, pouring us each a glass. My refusal of the beverage was drowned out by the laughter and noise of the room.

We all cheersed to the boys, and Josh took my glass with his and placed it on the table. I sighed in relief, feeling far safer knowing that he was refusing alcohol since he was driving us home.

"Hey, do you have the time?" Josh asked me, and I realised I hadn't seen my phone since we got here. I fumbled around my pockets, then my bag, before finding it shoved in between couch pillows.

"Uhh it is..." I started, turning my phone on. Forgetting completely about what I had taken my phone out to do, I was immediately distracted by the bombardment of missed text messages and calls. All from Adam.

I scrolled down its expanse and saw the true extent of how desperately he had been trying to contact me.

Remembering where I was, I felt Josh tense beside me and I cringed knowing he was looking at my phone too.

I sprung from my spot, "Sorry, I have to go make a call," I explained, not looking back to see his response as I walked away into an empty hallway.

Before calling him back, I had a read through the messages to gain an understanding of what I was dealing with. All of the messages were clearly sent in anger, reprimanding me for ignoring him.

I quickly hit the call button, waiting as the tone rang once before Adam picked up.

I spoke first, "Adam? What's going on? Are you okay?" I asked, worried as to why he needed me so direly.

His voice responded with a slur, "My God, finally. I thought you'd never call me back. What the hell took you so long? Who're you with?"

I didn't appreciate his tone at all, "Have you been drinking?" I asked.

He ignored my comment, "You know, it's not very nice that my girlfriend is ignoring me to be with a group of guys," he accused.

I scrunched my face in confusion, "What do you mean? You told me you were busy all weekend. I was going to be here with you tonight but you aren't free," I explained, trying to rationalise the situation for him. I was feeling entirely defensive and unfairly accused.

He scoffed, "Just cause I'm busy doesn't mean you gotta be with other guys."

"Adam this is ridiculous. They're my friends. You can't seriously be mad at me for seeing their band play live?"

He was quiet for a moment, "Well why weren't you responding then? I'm your boyfriend I should get more attention than them."

"I left my phone in the green room, I hadn't seen it all night until just now," I explained.

He continued, berating me for neglecting our relationship over the boys, and I began to feel tired of the whole thing. We were going around in circles, both arguing the same points over and over again, with neither of us agreeing with the other.

Finally, he seemed to calm down. "Okay, alright, I get it they're your friends. But you've gotta understand Baby... I get a bit jealous sometimes. I just need you to be conscious of that, makes me insecure otherwise."

What he said made sense, and I appreciated his honesty, "Okay, I understand," I replied, waiting for him to say anything else.

When he said nothing, I couldn't bear the awkward silence.

"...Sorry," I added, quickly regretting the words as I wondered what I was actually sorry for.

"It's alright Baby, I forgive you." My confusion intensified. How had I become the villain in the argument?

I sighed, "What did you need me for anyways?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing in particular. Just got bored at Oli's house and wanted to text you," he said nonchalantly.

"Oh," I replied, feeling let down at his overreaction, seeing as all he wanted me for was to relieve his boredom.

He cleared his throat, "Anyways, I've gotta go now, we're gonna go get some drinks," he said, the slur in his words still present, but the anger and irritation almost completely gone.

"Oh, okay," I replied, "Well stay safe!"

"Yep, bye," he said, ending the call without another moment to spare.

After staring at the floor for another minute and trying to process the whole experience, I made my way back into the green room, trying not to wince at the loud laughter and cheering.

I nibbled on my cheek, taking my seat again beside Josh, and reaching forward for my abandoned glass of champagne on the table.

I tipped back half of the glass and sank back into the couch, flashing Josh a short smile.

"You okay?" he questioned.

"Yep, all good," I responded chirpily, though my tone did not reflect how mentally exhausted I felt.

I knew he noticed my cues and didn't believe me at all, but I ignored it, drinking the rest of my glass and setting it on the table.

The group continued to celebrate up until the main act went onstage. We all watched from the sidelines, and I genuinely believed that the boy's performance was better than whoever this band was.

Maybe I was a little biased though.

The boys enjoyed watching from backstage and not wanting to ruin their fun, I masked my exhaustion with a smile. Thanks to my low tolerance, the drink was keeping me from thinking about the phone call, and I managed to distract myself with whatever stupid things the boys were doing.

Finally, we left the venue, spirits high and smiles big.

Luckily, the lead band's management packed away all of their gear already, so we could head straight home without delay. I could tell the boys were feeling giddy about the special professional treatment, and I reminded them not to let it get to their heads.

I couldn't imagine how Lori and Karen were feeling, as I had only known these boys for four months and the amount of pride I felt was overwhelming. They were full of talent, but we're still humble, loving and kind.

I knew in that moment, as Josh sang his heart out to the car's radio on the way home, that they were going to do great things. I just couldn't wait to see what.

The next week, I began my new job at the bookstore. I fell into the groove of the job with no issues and was quick to begin the mountainous project of sorting the pile of books in the back of the store. Josh occasionally visited me during work, lazing around to give me company when the shop was empty.

I was always busy with organising, sorting or restocking, and the store was never too busy that I was able to call the store a place of solstice for my thoughts.

I soon found out that Josh and Jake's birthday came up on the Wednesday. Unfortunately, neither of the boys wanted to do anything too big, claiming they would be too tired for the road trip to Chicago their parents were taking them on the day after. At my disapproval, they also insisted that the barbecue at my house on the weekend would be celebration enough. So instead, we planned a small movie night at their house, allowing us the chance to give gifts and have fun on their birthday.

I decided not to tell Adam, seeing as he was already feeling jealous of the amount of time I spent with the boys, but keeping the secret made it feel like I was doing something wrong. Doing something that a girlfriend shouldn't do. And maybe that feeling was right.

I had taken a bus to Saginaw to revisit the record shop we had explored before, and picked out a vinyl for Jake and Josh each that I knew they would both like. I then travelled the streets in search of a pair of nice quality hiking boots, as Josh had ripped the sole of his during our hike. The price wasn't pretty, but I was willing to spend the money on the people who had given me more than money could buy.

Feeling like it wasn't enough, I baked a large batch of cookies, which took me almost all night due to the amount I baked. But knowing the boys, I trusted that they would be eaten in a day. I packed the chewy cookies of varying flavours into six large boxes of tupperwear, questioning if maybe I had made a bit too much. On top of the cookies, I made a small portion of fairy bread for Josh, remembering how much he liked them at our picnic.

I had also written Josh and Jake cards and planned to give them to them during school. But the idea was soon ruined when Adam found them sticking out of my bag, and in the midst of anger, tore them up and littered the pieces into the bin. He apologised as soon as he had done it, claiming again that jealousy was something he had always struggled with, and promised he would work on.

As usual, I moved past it. I didn't have time to dwell on his mistakes, and I believed that he would be true to his promises. He was trying to change.

I didn't have time to get them each new cards, so I reluctantly went home with the boys with only my gifts, explaining to them that I had lost them somewhere at school.

We transformed the living room into a maze of cushions, blankets and mattresses, and all settled comfortably on the soft mess to watch Inglorious Bastards, at Josh's request. The aroma of baked goods filled the air as we munched on the cookies I baked, and the boys helped themselves to beers they had stolen from their dad's cooler, despite the fact that it was a Wednesday.

After the movie, Sam, Danny and I gave Josh and Jake their gifts, and Jake and Josh exchanged gifts between themselves too. I was crushed in hugs of gratitude and appreciation by both Josh and Jake when they opened their gifts, accompanied by bright, enthusiastic smiles.

The rest of the week I was busy at home, accompanying Dad on his trips to the shop to buy food and essentials for our barbeque. Dad even went as far as to buy outdoor furniture, claiming that nobody would come if they were forced to stand the whole time. Mum was more present for the week, as she too was busy organising the get-together to be as enjoyable for our guests as it could be, and I enjoyed getting some time alone with her, shopping and planning.

When Saturday rolled around, the sun high and humidity heavy in the air, we began setting up outside. Josh came over in the afternoon to help out, joining me in setting up tables and chairs. He gave me good company for the hot hours of the afternoon, chatting away about his trip to Chicago.

As we set out the last lot of chairs, Josh peered at the empty fire pit near the back of the garden, which had been there since we moved in, squinting at the brightness of the sun.

"Are you guys planning on having a fire?" he asked my dad, who was clearing away sticks and other debris from the grass.

Dad furrowed his brow, "Would be nice, but I have too much on my plate, not enough time to worry about the yard catching on fire," he laughed. "Why? You reckon you could handle one for us?" he asked Josh.

Josh's eyes lit up at the question, and he wiped his palms on the back of his jeans. "Sure! Why not," he said with maybe too much enthusiasm, bounding off to where Dad had discarded the stray sticks and leaves from the garden.

Dad watched him curiously for a moment, likely wondering if he'd just assigned a pyromaniac the responsibility of keeping a fire live for the night.

I spent the rest of the afternoon working slowly, often resting on one of the benches, watching as Josh foraged for the best sticks and logs, setting up the wood in the fire pit with precision and calculation. I sipped on a cold glass of lemonade, basking in the sun and smiling into the feeling of humid sweat coating the back of my neck.

As the sky got darker and the warmth settled into the ground, men and women who introduced themselves as friends or coworkers of my mums showed up. Dad's new golfing friends showed up too, and I was surprised to see Danny with his father, as neither of us had known our Dads had become friends.

The rest of the Kiszka's arrived next, hands full with bottles of champagne, followed by Jake and Sam who were carrying a cooler of what I assumed was more alcohol.

Josh lit the fire once it became sufficiently dark, tending to it delicately and prodding it with a long stick to keep it burning until the larger logs caught fire.

As time went on, more and more people showed up, and I was beginning to wonder if my parents had invited the whole neighbourhood. Friends of Josh, Jake, Sam, Danny and even Ronnie showed up too, some of which I recognised from school, all friendly and fun to talk to.

Soon, the fire was blazing and the chatter was lively. The smell of steaks and sausages were blowing through the garden in the gentle breeze, and I smiled at the sound of drinks clinking together, and laughter between acquaintances.

When Aanya showed up, she brought two friends who were very nice and the four of us stuck together like glue, joking around and laughing together by the food table.

I glanced down at my phone to check the time, seeing that Adam still hadn't shown up thirty minutes after he said he would come. I sent him a message, asking him if he was okay and what time he was planning on arriving.

In the meantime, I could see Josh, Jake, Sam and Danny tentatively refilling the cups of the adults, manipulating their sobriety to get them intoxicated quicker. I laughed at the sight of them walking around like hired event staff, offering drink top-ups.

Eventually, we decided that the adults were slurring enough that we could get away with drinking too. We filed into the house, grabbing the bottles of alcohol the boys had sneakily stolen from their parents, and pouring them into red solo cups.

Thankfully, as the boys and Aanya had brought friends, there were enough of us who weren't adults that we could all have fun of our own. We made our way to the fireplace, bringing chairs around in a circle, and we all found seats next to each other.

I frowned when I looked back at my phone, seeing Adam still hadn't responded.

"Everything alright?" Josh asked me from the chair beside mine. I was sat on a bench, leaving a spot next to me for when Adam finally arrived.

"Yeah all good," I sighed, "Just not sure if Adam is still coming."

Josh frowned too, "Oh, why not?"

I stretched my arms out in front of me, feeling embarrassed by his behaviour, "He said he'd be here like over an hour ago, but he still hasn't texted me back. I'm kind of worried," I explained.

Josh assured me that he would show up eventually, and not to worry. In the meantime, we occupied ourselves with conversing with everyone in the group, and I sent Aanya a pointed look when I noticed she was sitting next to Danny, thigh to thigh.

Another half an hour later Adam arrived, greeting me but saying nothing about the fact that he was two hours late, and wrapping his arms heavily over my back in a hug.

"Hey Doll," he said, taking a seat next to me and throwing his arm over my shoulder.

"Hey, where have you been?" I asked, not angry but confused.

He laughed, but it sounded more like a scoff, "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, you're like two hours-"

"Ohh, you drinking coronas? Got any extra for me?" he interrupted, asking Josh when he caught sight of him taking a drink.

Josh's gaze jumped to me momentarily, "Uh, yeah man. They're in the cooler over there," he said, nodding to the esky on the table near us.

Adam patted my side with the hand he had over my shoulder, "Mind getting me one, Baby?" he lifted his arm off me to give me space to get up.

Feeling slightly annoyed at being interrupted and being asked to retrieve his beer for him, I got up silently and grabbed a corona for him.

"Thanks," he said as he took the beer from my hand once I had sat back down.

As the conversation continued, I noticed there were smaller conversations between people who were separate from the main group, and I especially took note that Aanya and Danny were talking animately with one another.

I leant over the arm of the bench to be near Josh, telling him in a low voice to look at Aanya and Danny.

Josh smiled, and nodded, giggling at the sight of them.

"What were you talking to him about?" Adam asked sharply when I pulled back to my seat, resting my weight against his side.

"Aanya and Danny both really like each other. But neither of them know the other does and they're both so nervous about it. It's really cute, look at them," I explained, looking at the way Aanya leaned into Dany as he made her laugh. When I looked back at Adam, he was looking elsewhere, uninterested in what I was saying.

Letting his confusing attitude and behaviour go, I refocused instead on what others in the group were talking about.

Jake was talking enthusiastically about a guitar shop they found in Chicago and the 'absolute gems' he found inside.

"When I'm rich I'm gonna buy that black '61 ES. Was sexy as fuck," he complimented, eyes lost in the memory.

Adam scoffed rudely from beside me, and my face flushed in embarrassment. Luckily nobody around us had heard, but I nudged him in annoyance.

"Adam, stop being rude, these are my friends."

He only rolled his eyes in response.

I folded my arms across my body, feeling hurt by his actions, and tried to involve myself in the rest of the conversation without him.

Adam stared at the screen of his phone for what I could only guess was the next whole hour that went by, only pausing his mindless scrolling to get up and take another beer from the cooler. Luckily I was able to ignore him, falling deep into conversation with one of the girls Aanya brought with her.

"Yeah, you've got to come with us when summer comes around. The water is so refreshing," she said to me, referring to the beaches of Michigan. I smiled brightly at the offer, but before I could respond, Adam spoke.

"Layla doesn't really like the beach though, do you?" Adam stated, with sharpness in his tone.

I almost flinched at his interruption. Why would he say that? The statement wasn't true in any sense and it seemed as if he was pulling me out of every conversation I was trying to have.

"I do, actually," I said sweetly, not wanting to embarrass myself any more in front of the others while trying to show Adam that his attempts to remove me from the conversation were not working.

Thinking he may just be wanting more attention, I tried talking to Adam individually, but he blatantly ignored me, keeping his eyes on his phone, and only offering me one-worded answers. What was his problem?

I then tried to invite him into conversations with others, trying to relate their interests, but he would only huff when I brought up his name.

I became utterly embarrassed. I wasn't sure what he was doing at all, and I could feel the judgement from each and every person sitting around the fire with us when he ended yet another conversation I was having by interrupting, "I thought you hated that stuff."

My ears were flaming hot, and I bounced my leg anxiously. I was mortified. I had no idea what was causing him to act that way, and I began feeling hopeless, as all my ideas to fix his mood proved useless.

After a while of sitting in silence, as I knew that if I opened my mouth Adam would find a way to pull me back out of the discussion, Josh stood from his seat with an exaggerated stretching noise.

"I'm gonna grab myself another beer, anyone want one?" he asked, looking around the group. "Jake?" he added, nodding towards his empty beer bottle.

"No, you're alright, thanks," he responded, before resuming his melodic strumming on the guitar.

"Yeah man, could you grab me another corona?" Adam asked, speaking to Josh for the first time all night, apart from when he asked Josh where the cooler was at the beginning of the night.

Josh looked reluctant, but agreed with a tight smile, wandering off to the cooler. I glanced down at the floor, and was surprised at the amount of empty bottles Adam had consumed in the last few hours, and how able he was to act as sober as me.

Josh returned with Adams's drink, which Adam didn't thank him for, and dropped back into his seat, smiling at me when he caught me looking.

"Here, have some," Adam offered, handing his now open beer to me.

"Ah, no thank you," I politely declined.

He pushed the bottle further into my hands, "C'mon, at least share it with me."

I pulled my hands away, "Um, no, I don't really feel like drinking," I explained, but he didn't understand. He looked at me as if I were offending him. As if declining a drink was the worst thing I could have done.

"Why not? Come on, just a sip then," he pushed, and I laughed nervously at his pushy nature, hoping that nobody around us was watching.

My giggles died down as he took my hand and wrapped my fingers around the bottle, "I really don't want any," I stated.

"For fucks sake, what's wrong with you?" he snapped, his voice still quiet enough that only people who were actively listening could hear, but harsh enough to make me shrink away from him.

I removed his hand that was clutching tightly at my thigh, and crossed my arms and legs, trying to create distance from him.

I was so embarrassed and uncomfortable. He had humiliated me in front of my friends all night and treated me like crap. I took a quick scan around the group to make sure nobody had listened, and thankfully, everyone was looking elsewhere.

The few people directly next to us bore uncomfortable looks, and though they were paying attention to different conversations, I wondered if they were just pretending not to have heard for my sake.

Josh, for example, was clutching his new beer tightly, knuckles going white against the glass. His jaw was tight and lips were pursed as he stared into the flames of the fire before him. I hoped he was truly zoned out, and not struggling with the discomfort of hearing our argument.

Adam didn't waste much time before he leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "Fix your attitude, you're embarrassing me."

Completely over his behaviour, I huffed in annoyance, shrugging Adams off me when I rose from the chair and muttering something along the lines of needing the bathroom.

You didn't have to be smart to read that my actions were annoyed and frustrated, as I hadn't put much effort in maintaining my cool.

I made my way through the yard and up to the house, tucking my hair away from my face and blowing a long breath through my lips. Glancing back at the group by the fire, I was shocked to see Adam trailing behind me. So close in fact, that I got a whiff of his cologne.

I huffed again, "Adam, what are you doing?" I asked, turning back around and speeding through the door and into the house.

He ignored my question, trailing close enough behind me that I could practically feel him breathing down my neck, "What's wrong with you? Why're you in such a mood, huh?"

I scoffed, storming up the stairs to my bedroom, "What's wrong with me? I haven't been able to have fun all night, Adam," I whipped to face him at the landing of the staircase. "You've basically shut down every conversation I've had with anyone all night!"

I turned around again and hastily walked to the entrance of my bedroom.

He looked at me incredulously, "Can you blame me? You're the one who's been flirting with their neighbour all fucking night long," he complained.

I paused, "What? Who?"

He groaned, "Don't play stupid, Layla. He's been tryna' get your attention all night." Not that it made it true, but I knew he was talking about Josh. Because Josh was my friend. And because Adam was incredibly jealous of Josh.

"What?! I've spoken to him like once all night! And it's not like you've been available to talk to, you've been staring at your phone since you got here. You shut me down every time I try and talk to you," I said exasperatedly, waving my hands in front of me for emphasis.

My frustration was fogging my mind, and all I wanted in this moment was for him to leave me alone to my thoughts.

"Even if that were true- which it isn't," he started, and I rolled my eyes. "He's not the only fucking one out there. It's not that hard to talk to literally anyone else for five minutes," he argued, stepping closer to me.

I was struggling to read the expression on his face, as though I was sure mine was furiously frustrated and annoyed, his seemed almost... mischievous? I wondered if maybe he had had too much to drink, and attributed to his apparent flippancy to his lack of sobriety.

I ran a hand down my face, "I have been. I've tried talking to everyone, but you just butt in and cut every conversation off for me," I explained, lowering my voice, trying my hardest to express how I was feeling sensibly.

He stared at me blankly, hands glued to his sides, "That's not true."

I sighed, backing into my bedroom and grabbing the side of the door, "Alright, whatever you say. Can you just... leave me alone for a minute?" I asked.

His eyes widened and it was as if a beaming light was turned on inside his head at the thought that I was shutting him out. He stepped forward, a hand reaching out to take my arm gently.

"Oh, c'mon now. Don't be mad, let's just forget this happened, hey?" he offered, stepping closer and effectively nearing me further into my bedroom as I took backward steps away from him.

Once inside, he looked around my room in awe, eyes catching on my posters and decorations. "Wow, I've never been in here before, it's so pretty," he commented, his words and tone giving me whiplash.

"Thanks," I said plainly, "Can you get out now?"

He ignored me, looking back at my face and reaching a hand up to trace his fingers over the apple of my cheek.

"Seriously, Adam. Get out." I said sternly, stepping away from his touch. My anger was simmering again, and my privacy was feeling extremely invaded.

"C'mon baby, no. Don't be like that. Let's take advantage of being alone for once," he smirked, eyes shutting as he leaned in to kiss me.

My face scrunched up grotesquely as I tried to move out of his hold which was now tightly around my waist.

"Stop it, Adam," I pleaded, placing my hands on his chest to create distance between us.

I wondered if he genuinely couldn't hear me, or if he was ignoring my words as he attached his lips to my neck sloppily, pulling me back to him once again.

"Adam stop!" This time, I pulled away forcefully, shoving his chest to get away from him, "What the hell is wrong with you?!" I shouted once he was a far more appropriate distance from me, sporting the most offended look I had ever seen.

I didn't have the time to process it before it happened, but in what felt like the same time you could form a thought, Adam grabbed my shoulders and thrust me violently backwards in anger.

I stumbled back a step, unable to gather my bearings or register what was happening in enough time to break my fall, before the tender muscle of my lower back caught the edge of my vanity.

I crashed into the piece of furniture violently, nearly falling to my knees at the impact, before adrenaline took hold of my motor function and forced me to grab my desk chair to balance.

Something, which I had assumed was disturbed by my harsh contact with the vanity, fell from the higher shelves, my eyes only catching the movement in time for me to react this time.

I flinched violently, my hands reaching up to protect my head and knees buckling, bringing my body closer to the ground. The item smashed as it made contact with the desk and the sound pierced my ears horrifically.

My eyes were screwed shut in fright, though my brain whizzed and whirled, trying to make sense of what had unfolded in those moments.

"Oh my God Baby, I'm so sorry," I heard through the fuzzy layer of ringing that clouded my ears.

I cracked my eyes open and was startled when Adams's face was directly in front of mine. He reached out to cradle my face, worry written all over his expression, "Are you alright? It didn't get you, did it?" he asked.

I could hardly hear him over my heart which was pounding in my ears. I twisted around slowly with wide eyes, seeing that my favourite candle had fallen from the shelf and shattered atop the desk, leaving a messy trace of broken glass and chunks of wax in its wake.

I turned back to Adam, disbelief and confusion taking hold of my senses. I was well aware that adrenaline was still driving my system.

I was mostly quiet as Adam gushed over me, struggling to hold back my raw emotion, the painful lump in my throat feeling like it was going to choke me.

"I'm so sorry baby, I just- you pushed me so I pushed you back. Did you trip over something? Is that why you fell so hard?" he explained, or tried to explain.

Did I trip over something? No, there wasn't anything on my bedroom floor for me to trip over. But arguing that would be pointless. Adam must've had more strength than he realised, most likely meaning to only push me with as much strength as I had given to him.

His head hung low in shame, and I struggled to see if the red rimming his eyes was from an oncoming set of tears, or his still drunken state.

"Please, please, believe me, baby. I would never try to hurt you, I'm so sorry, it was an accident," he pleaded, holding my arms for stability, his eyes now roaming over my face.

I sighed, still unable to process what had truly happened. My first instinct had always been to forgive though, and I would understand the possibility that he was unaware of his strength compared to mine.

I reached a hand to his cheek, ignoring the tremor in my fingers, and stroked it gently, "It's okay, I forgive you. Can we just forget tonight ever happened? It's been pretty crap for both of us I think," I offered, and his eyes lit up at my words.

"Yes. Yes, of course," he said, kissing my lips quickly and stroking my wild hair flat on the top of my head.

Adam helped me up and aided in straightening my clothes and hair before deeming I looked presentable to join the party below again. There was something so tender about those moments. Complete silence save for my ragged breathing and Adams scattered apologies, as he tended to my physical appearance, as well as my emotional state, as he peppered me with kisses.

He helped me down the stairs with an abundance of attention, holding my hand the whole way through the house and into the yard. He gave me a peck on the cheek before we stepped outside, and despite what had just happened, I could feel the care and generosity through his actions.

I smiled, looking out into the garden, the shake in my hands calming as I listened to the sound of lively chatter and music. Jake was playing some tune from his acoustic, and the adults were laughing drunkenly by the cooker.

Dad stopped us as we made our way past, kissing me on the cheek and wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders.

"How are you enjoying the night Sweets?" he asked.

"Yeah it's been great, you did an awesome job. Everyone's enjoying themselves," I praised, knowing that Dad held high standards of himself for these types of gatherings.

He thanked me, eyes travelling to Adam who was standing beside me awkwardly.

I cleared my throat, "Dad... this is Adam. My boyfriend," I explained, cringing painfully. "Adam, this is my dad."

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Adam greeted, extending his hand to shake.

"Boyfriend, huh?" Dad asked sceptically, before smiling kindly and shaking Adams's hand. "Nice to meet you too, son."

They exchanged light small talk while I stood silently beside them both.

"Alright, well it was nice to meet you, Adam. But you best be treating my girl like royalty, ya hear me?" he joked, barking a laugh.

I tried not to make my discomfort obvious, as my mind flashed with images of being thrown into my vanity desk only minutes earlier.

Adam laughed, seemingly much less affected than I. "Of course, Sir." He wrapped a hand around my waist and kissed my cheek.

"Alright, talk to you later," I said, happy with how the interaction had gone. Dad seemed to like Adam, and I was thrilled.

Our spots were still empty by the fire, so Adam and I reclaimed our seats, melting back into the cushions and letting the sound of Jake's music fill my ears.

Adam must have felt truly guilty about what had happened, as his attitude completely changed. He was smiley, conversational, and I wasn't sure if I had seen his phone once since we sat back down, his hand now occupied with holding my thigh gently.

Surprisingly, he was even conversing with Sammy and Josh, and I sat back quietly watching their interactions happily. I was so glad he was back to normal, allowing me to enjoy the rest of the night peacefully.

Eyes raking over the group of us around the fire, I noticed that Danny and Aanya's seats were empty. Squinting in suspicion, I leaned over to Josh's chair, for what felt like the first time since I had sat back down with Adam.

"Where did Danny and Aanya go?" I asked, ignoring the feeling of Adams's hand tightening on my thigh.

Josh smiled, and I felt comfort at the familiar sight of his face, realising that I'd barely even looked at him since I got back, too afraid to set off another outburst in Adam.

"Danny needed the bathroom," he explained, "And Aanya offered to 'show him where it was'," he joked, using air quotation marks.

I laughed, settling back into my position next to Adam. For the rest of the night, Josh eyed us down, no doubt dying to ask what had happened when we walked away.

As much as I wanted to, I knew it was a bad idea to confide in Josh about something like this. It was clear to me that he was protective of me as his friend, already warning me about what he thought of Adam. There would be no way for me to describe what had happened in a way that didn't sound like he was right.

Once it reached one in the morning, people finally began to file out, yelling their drunken goodbyes before clambering into their taxis and ubers. Mum and Dad had made sure that each individual person whom they'd seen with a beverage was accounted for, being equally as anxious about drunk driving as I.

"Alright," Adam said, stretching his arms up above his head, "I'm gonna head out now."

I smiled as he leaned in to peck my lips. When we parted, he moved his face close to the side of mine, "I'm so sorry, beautiful," he lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles, looking earnestly into my eyes.

"It's okay," I said, smiling at his sweetness, "Bye, get home safe."

I watched him walk away until he was out of sight from the garden and sighed heavily. Josh joined me as I stood aimlessly in the middle of the garden, staring at the fire that was glowing with only its remaining embers. 

"Hey," he said, letting his arm brush against mine to let me know he was there. 

"Hey," I responded tiredly. Looking around, I realised that the Kiszkas had gone home too, leaving only my parents, Josh and I in the garden. "You going home now too?" I asked. 

Josh looked around at the garden, watching as my parents cleared plastic cups from the tables and floor, throwing them into large, black trash bags. 

"I think I'll stay and help clean up. M' not tired yet," he said, "If that's okay with you," he added. 

"Of course it is," I smiled. The night was quiet as we folded the chairs and tables, settling them against the porch for the night. The air had grown cooler, but there was still a heavy and humid weight in the air, and when I looked up at the sky in search of rain clouds, the empty, sparkling sky looked back at me. 

Cicadas chirped in the distance, filling the silence that Josh and I had fallen into as we worked. 

Mum and Dad eventually retired, wishing us a good night and making their way back inside, leaving Josh and I alone in the empty and silent space.

Once we had packed the furniture away, we picked up where my parents left off, sorting garbage into trash bags. Always working in the same spot, Josh and I often reached for the same bottle at the same time, causing us to giggle before falling into comfortable silence again. 

Shamefully, I helped Josh gather the substantial pile of beer bottles that had accumulated on the grass by Adams's chair. He didn't comment on it, didn't make a face, and helped me clean up the mess of the night, the mess of the memories. 

Eventually, we found ourselves seated on the wooden steps of my back porch, sorting through the bins to separate the recycling and waste rubbish. 

Josh cleared his throat, the action sounding louder than usual as I had adapted to the silence of the night. 

"It's a uh, beautiful night, isn't it?" he asked, looking out into the dense trees that conjugated behind our houses. I hummed in response, looking back up to the stars, feeling grateful that I could sit outside at such a late hour without freezing to death as I would have been during winter.

We were silent again for a few more minutes, the only sounds now being the sounds of glass clinking as we discarded them into the rubbish bags, accompanied by the soft sounds of our breathing.

"Did you have a good night?" Josh asked, breaking the silence again. 

I let out a breath and hung my neck sideways to stretch it, "Yeah, it was fun, did y-"

"It didn't really look like it," he interrupted, and I was grateful it was dark enough that he wouldn't see the redness in my face from embarrassment. 

He had read me like a book, because no, I had not had a good night at all. I subconsciously rubbed the tender skin of my lower back, feeling bruising when I touched the spot.

"Sorry," he added, realising that his accusation had put me on the spot. 

"It's okay. You're right, I didn't have that good of a night," I admitted, looking down at my rubbish bag.

"Cause of Adam?" he asked cautiously. I bit my cheek. 

"Yeah, but it's alright. We sorted it all out in the end," I said, memories of holding back tears while Adam apologised and stroked my hair ran through my mind. I was still trying to process and understand what had happened. Not wanting it to plague me any longer, I set the task of unloading the night aside for another day.

"Alright, if you're sure," Josh replied, staring at me cautiously from the corner of his eye. We fell into silence again. 

"Is your... did you hurt yourself or something?" Josh asked, and I tensed at the question, quickly reaching to my lower back to make sure my jacket was covering my skin. When I felt that I was covered up, I looked up to Josh questioningly, wondering what he was talking about. 

He was staring at my leg, and when I followed my gaze, I realised I had been subconsciously rubbing into the aching muscle of my thigh. I hadn't even realised that it had begun to hurt again, and had been massaging the muscle purely out of habit. 

"Oh," I remarked, "No, I'm alright."

"Are you sure? You do it a lot, and... it sometimes looks like you're in pain," he explained, and I sighed. 

"Yeah, I guess. It just gets a bit sore when I'm standing for too long," I answered, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. I felt guilty talking about the accident as it felt like I was trauma dumping on Josh. But considering his eagerness to listen, I knew he would rather me tell him than not, even if it wasn't what I was used to. 

"What do you mean, like the muscle gets sore?" he asks quizzically, clearly trying to understand if there was more to the story or if I was just very unfit.

"Kind of, it's more like the bone that hurts."

He furrowed his brows in confusion, "What do you-"

"My femur shattered in the car crash," I stated bluntly and I saw him tense beside me, his head turning to look at me. "And the only way they could save it without amputating was to put a rod in it. I can still feel it in there... it bothers me every day."

"Fuck," he said.

I felt my anger about the situation fizzle. "I hate it." 

"They didn't take it out once your bone healed?" he asked cautiously. The feeling of his shoulder brushing against mine kept me grounded.

"No. They said they were worried it would re-fracture, which is stupid cause the bone was fully healed in the x-rays," I complained. I was so frustrated. Those incompetent, lazy doctors had likely fucked me up for life.

"Fuck," he sighed again, cracking the knuckle of his index finger against his thumb nervously. "Is it always hurting? Or just when you've been standing too much?" he asked, fear in his eyes at the idea that I was always in pain. 

"No, not always. Just hurts when I overdo it, like when I go running, or overuse it any other way. The pain's not the only reason I hate it though, it makes me walk like an idiot too," I added, laughing dryly, but quickly shut up when I remembered the lyrics Josh had written in his room. It seemed he'd already noticed my 'funny' walk. 

For some reason, I didn't feel salty or hurt by those lyrics, as in a way they made me feel beautiful. He had captured something so closely associated with negativity and self-hatred and turned it into art.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. That must be really hard. Fucking sucks that it's still causing you pain."

"It's okay," I said quietly.

We continued sorting through the rubbish, only just realising that we had stopped in the tension of the conversation. 

"Tired?" Josh asked me when I yawned loudly. 

My head shot up worriedly, not wanting the comfort of the night to end. I was utterly exhausted, but I didn't want him to leave. 

"No, not tired at all," I said, shaking my head. 

"Okay," he smiled. 

Once we had sorted the rubbish into bags, I lay back on the deck, my legs hanging off over the steps. Josh joined me, folding his hands over his stomach as we peered up at the stars wordlessly. 

I didn't know which one of us fell asleep first, but we did, both succumbing to the lure of comfort and warmth that we had created in the past hour. 

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