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ellesthots · 5 months ago

Text

Fateful Beginnings

XXIX. “uncanny valley”

parts: previous / next

plot: you and Bruce dance around the horrors of the weekend, desperate to make things right—or, at least, better.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, angst, mental health issues, descriptions of violence, descriptions of injury, grief, anxiety

words: 6.1k

prev. chapter summary (XXVIII): You go to Wayne Tower on Saturday night to talk to Alfred about ways to get Bruce help. Alfred is hopeless. Bruce intercepts, bitter at your intrusiveness, and storms off. You call Dr. Crane, who tells you to refrain from following him for fear of escalating the argument. On your walk home, you run into a panicked, horrified Bruce in an abandoned alley near his house. He does not recognize you, and after calling Alfred for him to be picked up, Bruce begs Alfred not to tell his parents about him being out so late. After a brief heartfelt (and teary) conversation with Alfred, where he expressed thanks and reassured you were not making things worse (as you thought, and still think), you went home. The next day, Bruce has no recollection of the night before, brought up to speed by Alfred. At Alfred’s urging, Bruce visits your apartment on Sunday, begging you to see his side. The argument becomes heated, and, convinced by Dr. Crane’s horrifying prognosis for Bruce and his own erratic, dangerous behavior, you do a last hail-mary to get him help: you lie about being the person who saw Bruce jump, expressing how terrified you were at thinking you’d watched him die. This immediately triggers Bruce to his childhood, and he does a hard reset on his denial, horrified he’s repeating the cycle, reassuring you he will accept help.

Outside of receiving some calls, you hadn't checked your phone since Thursday night. Texts, socials, it had all been abandoned trying to remove the noose snaking Bruce's neck. After the phone call with Alfred you were able to relax into bed and pull out your phone—immediately smacked by a bazillion texts from Mar, a few from your parents, and some mentions on Scypher. You clicked on Mar's texts first.

Thursday, 11:50pm: OMGGG just now seeing thissss i got so lit tonight. sorry!! idk if i can make it to help you move. def can't drive in the morning tho!!! ttys!!!

Friday, 1:20am: ok lolz i went to a second club 2nite and yahhh i don't think i can make it 2morrowww

Friday, 12:30pm: if ur still in town i could help, i just got a massive headache hahaha have you left yet

Friday, 1:22pm: ur prob on the road byeee

Friday, 1:30pm: wait ur still in Gotham??

Today, 12:58pm: BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!! you didn't tell me you did the interview with him!! like actually!!!!!!! okayyyy too famous to respond to me I see? i'll make sure to visit to get your autograph lol.

Today, 2:15pm: bro i got so many more friend requests already today???? some are Bruce Wayne fan accounts. wtf!!!??? this is like blowing up

Today, 6:15pm: MISSED CALL FROM MAR.

Today, 6:16pm: MISSED CALL FROM MAR.

Today, 6:18pm: LOOK !!!!

She'd attached a Buzzfeed article titled: Bruce Wayne's First Interview Came Out Today, and Our Jaws (and Clothes) are on the Floor

You couldn't read any further though, seeing as you had a handful of texts from your parents to sort through.

Friday, 1:45pm: Hey hunny! Your mother and I are home from the second shot. She told me to text you 'I am fine'. We will call you this evening after I finish up the deck.

Friday, 6:37pm: MISSED CALL FROM DAD.

Friday, 6:40pm: Deck done. When you visit next I'll show you. Walter likes it. Love you

Today, 3:13pm: MISSED CALL FROM MOM.

Today, 3:20pm: Hi kiddo. Wow! Congratulations on the article! Debbie showed it to us when she visited earlier. I thought you said you were done with that guy. Love you sweety!

You responded to your dad about your mom, and your mom about the article. You refused to comment on her mention of Bruce, wanting to purge your mind as much as you were able to after the weekend you'd had. You resigned to calling her first thing in the morning, miserable over forgetting about her second shot. After responding to Mar to update her on staying (and to express faux excitement about the article's release), you stayed up a few more minutes to see if your parents might still be awake and responsive. Sleep.

You woke up late that day, around two in the afternoon; the only reason you hadn't slept even longer was a phone call from Dr. Vry startling you awake. "Y/N! Have you seen your article? I can't believe it. Over a hundred applications just TODAY to the journalism program!"

You fought your way through the conversation, the gears in your head finally harnessing enough energy to start worrying again. The call ended quickly, as she 'had a lot of applications to get through', and you called your mom without a second glance at your phone notifications.

"Hey sweetie. I saw your text last night, but I couldn't respond. Walter was finally curled up in my lap, you know how sensitive he is." She sounded fine, neither ecstatic nor miserable. Her energy picked up when she started talking about your article. "Your dad was looking into that Wayne guy, and ran across that article of yours. He didn't know it was you that wrote it until Debbie brought it over!"

You'd padded out to your kitchen to make some toast with the butt of the bread. "Since when is dad researching things about Gotham?"

"He's been very intrigued ever since graduation. He—"

Your dad sounded off in the background. "Hun? Hey! I saw that article of yours! His first interview ever. That's a big family, you know. The Waynes. It's a big deal sweetie!"

He continued without leaving space for you to change the topic. "You know about his parents, right? God, poor kid. Seems to have recovered from it well enough."

You stifled a laugh at him delivering the most famous lore of Gotham city like it was breaking news. "Yeah, I know about his parents."

"You know, I knew I sensed something between you two. When's he coming to visit?" You heard a meow in the background, and you could only imagine your dad was munching on some sandwich he desperately wanted.

"Dad,"

"People don't give their first interviews to just anyone. Must've really impressed him."

"He's never coming over, dad."

"You don't have to be embarrassed honey. He seems like a stand-up guy! Next visit, bring him."

"It sounds like you want to meet him." You rubbed your temples, having temporarily abandoned your peanut butter spreading. You didn't know if you were right, but you could've sworn you heard him shaking his head. Walter meowed again. He definitely had some sort of food in his hand.

"What kind of dad would I be if I weren't excited to meet my daughter's boyfriend?"

The juxtaposition of the past few days to his chipper, nonchalant demeanor was stark, reducing you to a teary mess. No, you wanted to snap at him. I actually visited him in a psych ward. Had to stop his future from becoming a funeral.

"Hey, whoa now..." Your mom spoke in a hushed, frustrated tone in the background. "I'm sorry sweetie. I get it. I won't talk about him anymore."

You continued to cry, unable to get any words out. It was like you were finally able to feel the weight of what had been placed on you, feel the piercing stab of the fear it instilled. Your sobs were so pathetic and deep that your mom kept asking if you could breathe. It took much longer than you were comfortable with to even begin steadying, and when you did you knew it wouldn't last. You told them you had to get back to work, and that you'd see them in two weeks.

Vanity Fair. Vogue. People. Cosmopolitan. Us Weekly. Elle. Glamour. Seventeen. Marie Claire. Your eyes had fuzzed over as anxiety nestled into your gut. So this had been... this had been huge. 600 followers had turned into 13,000, and that was just on Scypher. Instagram had 300, now 6,500. So many mentions, so many comments, you started to panic even more. You tossed the phone across the bed and wrapped your arms around your body, rocking slowly back and forth, squeezing your arms so hard they began to ache. Flashbacks to Saturday night pulsed between your eardrums, projected on the back wall of your mind. You'd never seen someone so out of their element before. The image of him in the fetal position on the ground. The screaming. The nearly incomprehensible rattle in his voice. The stitches that bulged, the skin sloughed off his fingers. The blood. The sweat. The panic. Dread. Fear. Hysteria.

Your hands shook just the same as they fought to text Alfred. Your fingers garbled the message, but you couldn't handle another second without knowing if he was alive or dead. What if he'd taken the whole fucking bottle? What if he was on the floor of his bedroom, the last dregs of his functioning body procuring foamy spit out of his mouth for him to choke on? What if he flung himself off another building? His house was so fucking tall. So empty. So huge. So many places he wouldn't be seen, he wouldn't be found, so many places someone could hide if they needed, or wanted. What if he was strung up by his neck on a ceiling bar?

You shrieked in pain as waves of fear ravaged you. If it were real water you'd be swept under, and you wouldn't even fight it. The water would take away all your troubles, your worries, your fears. But he couldn't know that. They couldn't know what this was doing to you.

You set the phone down.

If he knew, he'd feel guilty. He couldn't feel guilty. Guilt would hurt him more. Guilt could push him over the edge.

Instead, you dialed Dr. Crane. He answered on the second ring, always so quick. "Y/N. I was about to call you. Before we get into it, why did you call?"

Anxiety lurched up into your chest, eager to overwhelm and incapacitate. "Get into what?"

Dr. Crane laughed, a discordant sound that chilled you. "To thank you. Whatever you did, it was successful. This is strictly confidential, but he is accepting treatment."

So he's alive? "I wanted to talk to you about that." You swallowed hard, yanking at a loose thread in your comforter. "I uh, he wasn't going to get help until I, until I lied."

"About what?" Dr. Crane's composure was always strictly maintained, and this time was no different. He never gave away his feelings. "I had to tell him I was the witness. I said I saw him jump."

"Oh."

That was quite possibly the worst thing he could've said.

"Well, that changes things."

"What things?"

"For one, that's a secret you must keep. Glad you clued me in." You heard a rustling of papers, a hushing of his tone. "Usually that would be unacceptable, but if we're both being honest," His candor was unsettling. "I have yet to see someone as deeply in denial as him accept treatment. I went to sleep fully anticipating waking to news of his passing." His tone was suddenly lighter, almost singsongy. "I can't say I'm disappointed in you."

You had no concept of how to respond to that. Guilt ulcerated your stomach and strangled your chest, but at least Bruce was breathing. After a silence that was too long, long enough you were surprised he hadn't yet hung up, you spoke. "Are we, are you, sure?" Words were having trouble finding you. "About the lying? I didn't see it, and what if the real witness,”

"There is nothing to be concerned about regarding the witness. Mr. Wayne has begun treatment, and will soon be stable. Incredible work."

"I—"

"You saved Bruce Wayne’s life, Y/N. It's only a shame it's a badge you can’t share." You could hear the smile in his tone, but you weren't happy. The reassurance you’d been seeking was far from assuring, leaving you situated in an uncanny valley of suspicion. How could he be so joyful? Why wasn't he drilling you about going to such lengths? Had it… had it really been that fucking hopeless? Anger boiled in you at the prospect of Dr. Crane knowingly sending you on a suicide mission. Before you burnt the bridge, you thanked him for the update and hung up. It took everything in you not to throw the phone against the wall.

The shower was scalding. You barely felt it. He must have thought he wouldn't make it. He seemed so fucking resolved to Bruce's death. Fully anticipating waking up to news of his passing? But there was 'nothing he could do'? Not a word of tangible advice besides 'don't go after him'. If I listened to him, who knows who would have found him out there! Would he have attempted again? You also wrestled with the uncomfortable reality that Dr. Crane had been correct; you had played a vital role in him accepting treatment. Had Dr. Crane psychoanalyzed you, deemed you the sort of person to lie if needed? Someone he could push to do things outside of personal liability? A sort of reverse hitman?

As you toweled off, your anxious mind continued its rumination. So he took meds. But did he take just one? Alfred will watch him, right? Hold onto his meds, only give him them as needed? Is he employing a system, making sure he checks under Bruce's tongue, locks the bathrooms, listens for retching, making sure the medication is accurately and genuinely consumed, as prescribed? You needed a break, but you couldn't find one. Sitting on the edge of your bed you knew you wouldn't be able to rest until you knew he was alive right now. And the next day. And the next day. And the next. A boulder jammed down your shoulders knowing you wouldn't be satisfied unless he personally slept on your couch so you could monitor him like a newborn. His attempt and general discontent were affecting you far more than you'd initially internalized.

Bruce sat in Alfred's study by the fireplace, staring out the window towards the grounds. Over breakfast with Alfred he took the first dose of the medication, and only a few hours later he swore he could feel the effects. He'd done some quick googling on olanzapine, and it appeared he was having a placebo effect. At minimum he'd feel effects in a few days, more likely after a week or two. He had to stop researching after that, too freaked out about having to be on antipsychotics, too much still in disbelief about how he'd done something so drastic yet had no memory of it. Alfred convinced him to stay 'home' from Batman for the rest of the week, which was an unusually easy feat considering how he hadn't taken a voluntary night off since beginning the project years ago. It broke him how upset you'd been, and he knew he wouldn't be able to see Alfred cry again. That was unbearable.

He didn't have much to do; he quickly realized he had been living only for the night. There really wasn't anything to do in the tower; no games (outside of a dusty chess board in Alfred's study), one old television (also in Alfred's study, off to an adjacent corner), no gym (he overextended himself enough as Batman), and the house was generally kempt from Dory's attentive cleaning in a house that didn't need more than dusting anyway.

Alfred told him to skip the meeting this week; Bruce initially hadn’t cared much either way, but realized that wasn't an option after misery frayed his nerves with just half a day of sitting around. In order to go in public, he needed to not be scarred and scabbed to hell; he wanted to walk the grounds, but worried about doing it in the daytime in the state he was in. Your article’s release had also prompted a patch of reporters to hang around his house, increasing his surveillance. Give an inch, they’ll take a mile. He and Alfred briefly discussed the contingency plan they kept at the ready: staged police photos of a nasty car crash on the edge of the grounds, but he couldn't share them yet—he wanted to leave you as much time as possible to soak up the success of the interview. You deserved that much, you deserved more after what he'd put you through. At least once an hour he thought about calling you, and he very nearly did a few times. He worried about you. Were you safe? Did you need anything?

On some level, he theorized focusing so much on you was a coping mechanism to escape his failing mental capacity. The more he focused on you, the less real estate his panic had. Last night had been miserable. He'd stayed awake staring at the ceiling, his mind swirling with shock and fear. He’d wondered if this is what his mom had endured, but he didn’t have the mental fortitude yet to go digging through Arkham Asylum records. He didn’t know if he ever would again, so he simply sat. Watched the clouds move along the skyline. Watched the shrubs sway in the backyard. Followed the occasional crow floating past the windows.

As soon as darkness fell he couldn't contain himself any longer. The nagging feeling of someone he traumatized being alone in it was too much. He grabbed a hoodie and walked to the elevator, sure he could make a free escape through the old subway route. His hand hesitated before pressing the button. What if you didn't want him to visit? What if it was too stressful? He couldn't keep coming over unannounced, it was weird. Not normal. Alfred had heard the metal rustling and walked into the kitchen. His brow furrowed. "I thought you were taking a break from him?"

"I am." He stared at the ground, lost in thought. "Would you call her?"

"Miss Y/N?" Alfred's voice was soft, concerned. "Sure, why?"

Bruce had conveniently kept to himself that you'd been the one to watch him jump. That you were the witness, that you'd called 911. "I want to give her an update."

Alfred pulled out his phone and Bruce walked closer, bridging the gap between them. "Ask if I could talk to her." He didn't blink until you picked up, hiding a wince at how you'd done so before the end of the first ring. You were scared. Desperate.

"Miss Y/N, I hope this isn't a bad time." Alfred paused with the phone to his ear, his expression faltering before he let out a small chuckle. It was hollow. "No, he's alright. He wanted to see if he could speak to you now."

He handed the phone to Bruce, who quickly scurried up the stairs and into his room. He only put the phone to his ear once the door was closed behind him. "Y/N?"

"Bruce." It was so nice to hear your voice when it wasn't panicked. You sounded a bit tired, breathy, but miles better than yesterday. A sigh of relief heaved out of him, to which you had a reflexive response. "Are you okay?" Your voice rose, both in volume and octave.

"Yes. Are you okay?"

"I really don't think it matters,"

He bit back a part of him that wanted to say you were the only thing that mattered. He'd broken you. "Are you?"

You sighed. "Yes. Did you uh,"

"I got the meds."

"Good. Did you take them? Or, one, or, whatever the dose,"

"Yeah." He could hear how clouded your mind was, and it was excruciating being so limited to the phone. He remembered the first week after the murder. His mind had been a hazy minefield, everything running on autopilot. The tears, his limbs, his voice, nothing had been a conscious decision for weeks. Sure, he hadn't died, but you'd thought he had. If… his parents had survived, he figured he would've been in a similar state regardless. He wanted to help you, but he didn't know how.

"How long does it take the medication to work?"

"A few days. Maybe a few weeks." After his parents died, everyone brought him food. Random strangers had brought flowers, and food, and even stuffed toys for him to cuddle with. He'd only kept one, a stuffed dinosaur, now tucked into the back of his linen closet. Alfred checked on him constantly. No longer did he have to do his chores; Dory and Alfred picked up the slack. No longer did he have to deal with hearing his mom demand he eat his veggies and sides before getting another helping of soup, he only had soup. And juice, and soda, and warm blankets fresh out of the dryer. He remembered the warmth. Of the blanket, the soup. Those, paired with the scraggly dino in his arms, were the only things that made a decimal of impact on his devastation. "Do you need anything?"

"No. Do you?"

"Do you want anything?"

"I'm good. What about you?"

He didn't believe it. You were trying to spare him, just like you had by making yourself anonymous. Would it be wrong of him to come over? This late in the evening... probably. But he remembered the nights were the worst part. Alone in the empty darkness. Less cars, less lights, even the reruns on tv were stale at that time. It left no room for distraction. And honestly, he worried if he didn't distract you from your pain, he'd be gridlocked by his.

"Can I stop by?"

Onion, celery, carrots, butter, flour, curry powder, chicken broth, an apple, rice, chicken breast, thyme, and heavy cream. He didn't know how to make much, and Alfred didn't keep much variety around, but you hadn't balked at mulligatawny the first night you'd stayed here, and it was one of the few things he knew how to make without a recipe. It was also one of the few things the old man always kept fresh and stocked, especially now that Bruce was in recovery mode. Most importantly, it was warm. It was only nine, he could get this done before ten, and be gone before midnight. Just in time for you to get tired and go to sleep, without hours spent tossing and turning alone in bed. It was the least he could do for you.

He'd never felt more ridiculous than he did when he opened your door. The backpack was heavy and a reminder that he hadn't asked if he could cook, but assumed he would waltz into your kitchen and work some magic. You invited him in and he went straight to the island, setting down his pack and taking out the supplies. Your face scrunched with confusion. "What are you doing?"

He kept taking out food while he thought of how to phrase it. It was like his mind was slowed down, your apartment a pool of tv static. "I wanted to cook." Pause. "For you." Another pause, and he took out the apple. "It's warm." Fuck, could he have explained it any worse?

He paused and you watched him slowly move to meet your eyes. "Can I?" His hand was hovering above one of the drawers, ready to get to work. "Sure." You didn't understand why he couldn't cook at his house, but you couldn’t complain; still coming down from the nauseating blend of relief and guilt that gnawed at you when you finally saw him in the flesh. Like being attacked by a wave on a hot day; soothing, but bitterly cold at the same time.

You had reassembled the chairs today, and the table. You'd anticipated calling Mar later tonight if she weren’t already at a club, offering to order some takeout and have a movie night. When thinking up a distraction, you certainly hadn't anticipated Chef Bruce appearing with fixings for a mystery meal. Did billionaires even know how to cook? Did billionaire Bruce Wayne ever have to fend for himself in the kitchen? A brief image of him staring confusedly at a box of cereal made your mouth twitch into a grin.

Good. Your humor was still there, thank god. With his back turned to you, facing the burner, you could finally, finally, finally, finally unclench your jaw and drop your shoulders. He was here. It was weird, and uncomfortable, but undeniable. He was here, not hanging from a rafter or god knows where doing god knows what in the city. He was putting butter in a pan, and grabbing a wooden spoon. He was alive.

But... this was still out of character, which raised an orange flag. You waited for him to reach an impasse before speaking, tapping his fingers on the countertop while he watched the rice cook. An apple sat cubed to the left, the chicken sizzling on the back burner. "How are you? Really?"

Bruce needed to toe the line. Too honest and it would shift the focus to him, further distressing you; too dishonest and you'd dismiss it before he finished speaking. His body didn't just ache, it screamed at him. Every step, even every time he spoke, felt like torture. He'd teared up at multiple points between the lobby and your unit. His spirit was entirely crushed, shattered into irredeemable smithereens. He hung his head and let all the air out of his lungs, letting his weight fall into his wrists as he leaned over the stove. "Not great."

It should've pained you to hear that, instead it felt like wind in your sails. He was being honest. You could work with that. Honesty didn't need to be interrogated or sleuthed upon. "How can I help?"

He wanted to say you've done enough and don't want your pity, but it felt too real. You didn't need that tonight, not so close to the event. "Taste the soup and tell me if it needs anything." He prayed you wouldn’t keep asking.

"How would I know?"

"I want it to suit your taste."

"I don't know what it's supposed to taste like." You were hyperaware he hadn't answered you, not in the way you wanted. Maybe it was too close for comfort right now. Maybe all you needed to do was focus on him being here, and ask questions later.

"Pepper, curry flavor. Creamy." He stirred something fragrant on the stovetop.

"What's the apple doing?"

"It's necessary." It felt good talking about something else with you. Something normal. Not Batman, not his legacy, not the attempt. Still, all of it clouded and constricted the conversation, a constant tension you both wittingly ignored. "Smooths the spice."

I barely tasted it that night. Too scary being trapped in the house of one of the most powerful men in the world. You watched as he stirred, chopped, and fluffed. You were brought back home with your parents, watching them make dinner while you sat at the dining table and talked at them. He glanced around and looked at the can of heavy cream. In an instant you were up and grabbing a can opener, desperate to do your part. He instructed you to pour it into the pan, and for a half second he was just another guy; an acquaintance, someone passing through; someone regular, unassuming.

After a few more minutes of sitting around, you grabbed some bowls and spoons. After a quick taste he required you take ("Need to know if I missed something"), he ladled the bowls full, and you both walked slowly, carefully over to the table to set down the steaming soup. Bruce dug in without waiting, while you blowed on a single spoonful until every bit of steam hesitated to rise from it.

He watched you apprehensively. Your eyes widened a bit, and he could see your jaw moving like you were savoring it. "How is it?" It tasted fairly similar to how Alfred made it, which was fairly similar to how his mom had made it. At the very least he hadn't royally fucked up. Who knows, maybe olanzapine changes tastebuds.

You nodded, blowing on another bite. "Mulling it over."

God, that was so droll... it tugged a whispering grin to his lips, his bite slipping back into the bowl at the gentle movement of his dry chuckle.

He was laughing. Not really. Kind of. Weird, but yay! "I've never tasted anything like it. It's good."

"Don't have to placate me."

"It's peppery. Curry. Creamy."

He rolled his eyes and tossed another spoonful into his mouth. "Creative. What's the apple for?"

The tension never left, though you both did your best to selfishly soothe it through dry humor. The most either of you did was grin, breathe a little extra air through your nose. When he wasn't looking your eyes wandered to his purple and green bruises, and the complementary crusting scabs along his neck and hands. You wondered if he was suicidal right now, but wasn't saying anything. When you weren't looking, he studied your body language, hoping it would betray you. Were you scared right now? Did you think this was the weirdest thing ever, like he did? Did you think this was creepy? Was it creepy? Was it helping? Was he helping you?

You both finished and walked your bowls to the sink. He started rinsing them and reached for the dish soap, and you let him for a little. After he pat dry the first bowl, you couldn't sit with this worry on your chest any longer. The food had been warm and energizing, the mood made less intimidating with the joking, and all of it together held your hand as you broached the topic. It made you sick how concerned he was about your wellbeing; yes, he scared you, images of his frenzied, panicked face waking you up in the dead of night, but you hadn't watched him nearly die like he thought. His worry felt like rain on a hundred degree day: unsettling and unwelcome. You inhaled fully, hoping enough oxygen would get to some brave neurons and force the words past your teeth. They caught in your chest and by then he'd finished the second bowl; anxiety palpated your heart, bullying it into silence. You overrode it. "Bruce."

At once he abandoned the silverware and turned toward you. His analytical gaze peppered your face and the fingers that annihilated your cuticles. The stench of something burning singed your nostrils, your eyes tracking the source to the hem of his sweatshirt draped over the hot stove, smoking as small flames burnt through the cotton. Perhaps waiting to be seen, it erupted into a blazing ball of flame. You yelped and jumped toward the sink, grabbing the adjustable faucet and spraying him down. The flames went out, he turned off the burner, and you looked around for some magazines or papers to fan away the tendrils of smoke wafting toward the fire alarm.

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

You glanced back and saw Bruce sopping wet, his hair having gotten in the mix too, draped over his eyes; the singed, ripped edges of his shirt that he clutched between his hands. You bit your lip to reign in your laugh. He started hurrying the shirt off his back, and gently shook it out to see if it had juice left in it. That was the kicker, sending you bolting toward your bedroom. You couldn't be laughing at him all the time. Get it together! He's hurting! But the laughs escaped your tight-lipped prison, and soon his shadow was in the doorway. As quickly as you'd laughed, you began to cry. You dropped to your knees at the whiplash; what once was dead, was now making soup in your apartment. Dancing around it wasn't helping, it was exacerbating the pain. He didn't hesitate to walk over, his long legs getting him across the room in only a few strides.

He didn't think you were crying about the fire. He stood helplessly beside you, unable to make a decision on what to do next. Guilt bloomed angry, self-flagellating thoughts, wishing he hadn't ran with his ego and coddled his denial. He placed a light touch to your shoulder and you jumped up. "I'm fine." He didn't say anything, only sat and watched as you struggled to reign in your barrage of tears. Your fingers threatened to go numb, and you attempted to shake the tingles away. "My body just needs to cry and then, then I'm done." You turned away from him and pressed your clammy palms to your cheeks, trying to physically shove the tears back into hiding.

After what seemed like an extended period of sniffling tears, you looked back at him. He was sat on the edge of your bed, his sweatshirt draped over his forearm. You could see more of the deeper wounds on his arms now, which was a viscerally surreal feeling. It was impossible not to be aware of his reputation; it preceded him at every turn, he was correct about that. Something entirely new though was seeing the fallibility so transparently.

Before graduation—and honestly, before seeing him breaking down in the alley—you had practically thought he was immortal. You wouldn't have done such ridiculous, dangerous bullshit as walking through an active crime scene at night if you hadn't internalized his heroism. Until this moment you hadn't realized how much you'd relied on that story; the subconscious reassurance that the Batman provided to Gotham's citizens. The mythical creature unfazed by bullets, incapacitating anyone in its wake. Batman's neutralizing force was so accepted it went unquestioned; now you knew it was because no one truly knew him. You and Alfred were the only people who had. Suddenly, the world felt a lot more intimidating. If you were any less shaken up, you might've laughed at the unmasking of Santa; but even children mourned the loss of magic, and here you were muzzling yourself.

"Can I help?"

You needed to nip this in the bud. It was going to come out however it was going to come out, and you needed to be okay with that. "I, appreciate the effort." It wasn't coming out so easily. Be nice. Be nice. Be nice. "But I want this to stop." I didn't watch you. "You don't want my pity, and I don't want yours." Too harsh, scale back. "The only thing I need is for you to be safe. Alive."

You sounded so much like Alfred that Bruce bit back a snarky retort. Not the time nor the place. Your bed creaked as he stood up. He hated how your words sat in his chest, but there wasn't exactly anything he could do about it. "Okay."

No argument, no fighting. Like you requested something he already vowed to do. He walked past you into the kitchen, and you followed on his heel. You had never been so close to him alone, and never from behind. His back was broad, making his already impressive height even more menacing. Veins bulged under his skin. Swore a tendon twitched in his forearm every time he stepped on his left foot. If he had turned for the door you might have yelped, but he just finished the dishes in silence while you lingered, then sat on the couch. If someone walked in right now, and was one of the few humans who didn't know about Bruce Wayne, they might think this looked normal. It couldn't feel more foreign.

You didn't wait half a second after the sink turned off to fill the space. From your perch on the end of the couch, across the room. "Will you be safe once you leave?"

Like a knife scraping under his fingernails. So scared he wouldn't be alive the next morning. Skittish. "Yes." He wasn't looking back at you, wishing he hadn't already put down the dish towel so he'd have something to wring. "I promise."

What good's a promise if he's six feet under? Your life had become so singular so quickly, and you were anxious for it to get back to its usual painful mediocrity. "Really?"

Ugh. He turned to face you and followed your eyes searching the carpet. He sighed away his animosity, knowing the rage seeping into his chest was directed at himself; it was nothing greater than embellished fear. He knew this, was well acquainted with it. Maybe he did need to go back to therapy. He leaned his hip against the counter and winced, jamming straight into a blackened, split bruise. He grabbed his hoodie from where it was slung across the edge of the counter, grimacing at the effort only when his face was obscured. “Really.” Within seconds he was at the door, his hand on the handle. He noticed your eyes flash in his periphery, and his entire body constricted at the sight. He forced himself to meet your eyes. It was strenuous. He figured he needed to warn you. "Alfred and I have emergency plans for times like these. Whatever you read in the news, it's a cover-up." He popped open the door, hesitating on the departure. The air was thick with emotional exhaust. "I'll see you on Thursday?"

You nodded, relieved he was being more covert with his concern. Sugaring the medicine. "See you on Thursday."

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emisprocrastinatingbywriting · 10 months ago

Text

Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 4 Summary:

A few weeks have passed since the heated encounter with Joel and he has gone silent. Embarrassed, you have tried to apologize to him for days but he is constantly dodging you. Joel has found a never ending list of tasks, seemingly only able to stay in your presence momentarily before dashing off again. When an awkward dinner has him running into the woods, Joel stumbles across something he was not expecting to find.

Warnings: Angst/Comfort, Violence, SA attempts (Not by Joel, omg he would never), Hurt/Comfort, Sweet Ending, Mentions of a Panic Attack, Both you and Joel need a hug after this one :'(

A/N: Hello babes! Sorry for the wait, I spoke at my first academic conference this weekend so I've been having a week long panic attack hahaha. It went well though!We are back with Joel and you. Major warning for this chapter, with mentions of violence and an attempt of SA (not by our bb Joel, he would NEVER), but a resolution at the end so hold tight. If any of this bothers you, hold tight for the next chapter and we will drowning in the fluff. Take care of yourselves!

Chapter 4/20

Chapter 4: An Unexpected Arrival

The next three weeks with Joel passed by slowly. The man seemed to avoid you like the plague. By the time you woke up in the morning he was already out checking the traps, with only a wrapped plate of food with a note on the counter to serve as a clue that he had been there. He would come back in the early afternoon, increasingly red in the face as the temperature dropped, and give you a polite nod or a soft, “Howdy,” before going to work in the kitchen. Even when you tried to convince Joel to let you help him, he would just smile and brush you off. Despite your incessant offers, he shooed you out of the kitchen and into the living room while he worked on lunch.

Idleness was not something you were used to and it began to gnaw at your sanity. You tried to find comfort in reading the books that lined the walls, but it was not enough. The world you were used to was chalk full of tasks, living with someone who did everything for you was as unsettling as it was comfortable. You micro cleaned as much as you could but Joel Miller was frustratingly tidy.

Everyday, Joel would eat lunch with you at the table. He would listen and politely respond to whatever you said to him, usually grunting out a short response or humming as he continued to chew, but the man that you had told your tale of teenage delinquency to was long gone. After hastily scarfing down his lunch, he would murmur something about going back to work and then practically sprint out the door.

In the days after you threw yourself at him, Joel had embarked on a seemingly endless list of tasks. First, it was covering the windows with plexiglass to insulate the space. Next, it was clearing out the gutters that you noticed were mostly empty. After, it was splitting an unreasonable amount of wood. This particular task had you sat at the window to watch him work, Joel having gruffly sent you inside with a murmur of, “S’too cold darling, can’t have ya freezing on me.”

Watching Joel had something stirring deep in your core, sweat beginning to bead at your forehead as your heart fluttered behind your ribs. Joel truly was a piece of art, with his toned arms and soft yet strong abdomen. As sweat began to run down Joel’s face, he shed his bulky coat and you had the pleasure of watching his muscles ripple underneath the white t-shirt that stretched over his biceps. The curls that you dreamed of running your hands through were messy and Joel had to stop every few minutes to push them back off of his forehead as he caught his breath.

Exasperated with his locks, Joel paused momentarily and shoved them back once more before lifting the bottom of his shirt to wipe at his brow, revealing his scarred belly. A bolt of longing burst from your core and made you clench your thighs together as you imagined running your fingers across the puckered skin. Joel’s eyes rose to meet yours and your breath halted in your chest. A moment passed, and then two, while Joel studied your form in the window seat. The throbbing at the apex of your thighs doubled as his eyes went black while raking over your figure. You shifted your hips slightly, trying to be subtle as you eased some of the growing pressure on the edge of the seat. Even with your bottom half hidden from him, Joel’s eyes caught the slight rocking. He ran his tongue over the plushness of his bottom lip, before he cursed and shook his head, returning to splitting the logs.

In the days after your heated encounter you tried not to dissolve into a puddle of shame, kicking yourself every time you remembered how you had rubbed yourself against him. The moment you had stepped in the shower after leaving him aching on the bed, you were groaning into your hands. Remembering how Joel had practically begged you to get off of him, you had lost all of the lust instilled confidence that you had. You had tried to be coy and flirty like all of the omegas in the novellas that Jake had snuck to you once upon a time. It always worked in those books. The protagonist would push the buttons of their lover and they would be practically on their knees before them in an instant. It seemed to work on every alpha, but not Joel apparently.

Of course Joel didn’t actually want you, he was an alpha that had been caught up in the crazed omega that had ground down on his knot like a bitch in heat. He couldn’t help the physical response that you elicited from him, and now you had made him feel awkward in his own home. You felt awful. You wanted to apologize to him, to beg him to forget it so that the next few months weren’t completely unbearable, but Joel was making it impossible to do so with his continuous absence.

Frustrated, and bored of doing nothing but reading, you were becoming more and more irritable. If Joel had picked up on this, he did not say. He continued on his endless task list, stopping only to sleep, bathe, or coddle you with ridiculously large portions of food. Not that you were complaining about the food or the coddling, your figure had started to fill out again, your eyes had become less sunken in your face, and you had finally managed to tear through the last of the clumps that had bound your hair in a permanent rat’s nest. You liked being cared for, it was new and warm, but the solitude and inactivity was going to drive you up a wall.

The restraint you had after you had found the pictures was fraying at the ends. The door at the end of the hall mocked you with every passing moment. You were so curious that you almost asked him about it nearly every time he sat down to eat, but you bit your tongue remembering the outcome of the last time you had gone snooping. Still, with every passing moment your restraint wore down as the thought of him flying off the handle began to appeal to your companionless state. At least if Joel was yelling at you, he would finally pay attention to you. Maybe then you could finally apologize.

Instead, you spent your days reading, napping, pacing, trying to find anything to clean in a practically sterile cabin, and trying not to scream when you thought of the feeling of Joel’s warm body against your own. Each night you would toss and turn for hours, trying not to leave the bedroom and seek him out on the couch. Managing to restrain yourself, you would eventually fall asleep cocooned in his musk. You wondered constantly how Joel’s scent in the room was as strong as the day you arrived, considering he only entered it briefly before sleeping to collect his clothes for the next day.

One night, this led to you watching him eat with clenched fists as you ground your back molars against each other. Sweat dampened your back as your eyes roamed over the man across from you. Joel’s throat constricted with a swallow, making you practically keen at the thought of nipping at the thin skin below his jaw. His scent, once comforting, was now making you feel slightly feverish. You didn’t even hear him when he called you the first time.

“Hmmmm… what? What did you say Joel?,” you asked dreamily while watching his coffee colored eyes examine you.

“Are you feeling alright? You look a little… flustered darling,” Joel said, a slight tremor in his usually smooth voice.

Were you alright? Were you fucking alright? Was he serious? After three weeks of barely acknowledging you, he now sat there and asked you how you were?! Rage bubbled up to the surface and you tried to quell the storm brewing in your gut as you glared at him.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that you gave a fuck,” you snapped, immediately regretting the childish words as Joel’s eyes widened.

Panicking, you mumbled an apology, something about being too tired as you tried to keep yourself together. The smell of sandalwood and bergamot was ripping tingles from your core and you became increasingly aware of the dampness of your panties, praying silently to yourself that there wouldn’t be a wet spot on the cushion when you stood. Joel didn’t say anything to you and sat there silently as you floundered, although you noticed his knuckles turn white as he clenched the utensils in his grasp. Finally finished with your nonsensical apology and incoherent excuse, you leaped out of the chair and sprinted down the hallway.

Pressing your back against the hard wood of the bedroom door, you slid down onto the floor and knocked your head back against it. You didn’t understand what was happening to you, being around Joel was unlocking a part of you that you didn’t even know existed. You wanted to tear the clothes off of his broad body, you wanted to hug him, you wanted to feel him inside of you, you wanted to know his favorite color, you wanted him to pull your hair as he slammed into you, you wanted to hear him play his guitar. It was like your body couldn’t decide whether it wanted Joel to tear you apart, or if it wanted you to build him up. Perhaps it wanted both. Either way, the constant battle between the two was maddening.

As you sat there, trying to regulate your breathing and shifting your hips aimlessly as you thought about Joel’s downturned lips, you heard the scuff of the kitchen chair followed by a shuffling of coats. The frame of the house shook as the front door slammed closed. Groaning, you banged your head softly against the wood again as you tried to erase the fantasies that were plaguing your desperate thoughts.

After a few moments of Joel being gone the tingles had dulled and you dizzily made your way over to the sink to splash some cold water on your face. As you looked up to see your wet face, you wondered how the handsome southerner would look with drops of water running down his body. You imagined beads of water dripping from his curls onto his strapping shoulders, rolling down the expanse of his tan midsection before reaching the patch of hair below his navel…

You groaned louder, abandoning the sink for the icy embrace of a cold shower.

- Joel -

The past three weeks with you had been hell. Joel had tried everything he could think of to stay away, even lying about cleaning the gutters just to get away from watching the softness of your thighs jiggle as you walked around in your sleep shorts. He ended up just standing on the ladder like a fucking idiot for an hour as he pretended to shuffle around the empty eavestrough. He didn’t know what to do, it was clear that he needed to stay away, as only a few moments with you had him ravenous. Joel was a gentleman, being raised in the south he had been taught how to be respectful towards omegas. However, your constant chattering over meals was threatening to break him.

Joel listened to your every word, soaking in every bit of information that you gave him as he tried to piece together moments from your past. He even had favorite characters at this point, Jake and Miriam stories being his favorite while stories about Josiah or your mother had him chewing on the inside of his cheek. Joel tried to piece together your life in his head but so far the events were too scattered and confusing to make any sense of what had happened. As you talked, he noticed that you spoke with your hands and placed your index finger on the tip of your nose when you were trying to remember something. Cute, he had thought to himself the first time he had noticed it before he snapped his gaze back to his plate. This didn’t stop the same thought from running through his mind every time he caught you doing it.

Joel tried to maintain a certain level of distance between the two of you, but he couldn’t stop himself from caring for you. He allowed himself the indulgence of providing for you, his heart swelling in chest as he watched you become healthier. You had been starved when you had arrived, but watching you fill out had him both happy and horribly frustrated. Nourishing you made him preen, but as your curves returned it was getting harder to keep himself from slinging you over his shoulder like a caveman and carrying you off to bed.

He had remained the picture of chivalry for weeks. Nonetheless, even a gentleman has his limits, and his came at dinner one night. Joel had noticed you being off for the last few days, snapping at him when he gave you a big spoon instead of a small one, scenting everywhere around the house, watching him chop wood like he was a piece of meat, and Joel had a sneaking suspicion that you were responsible for his missing clothes. He should have known, should have remembered with his many years of experience, but he didn’t.

You had been staring at him, looking at him with such intensity that he wondered if you were mad at him. Joel racked his brain for any slight he might’ve committed as he took in your features. The apples of your cheeks were red, a light sheen of sweat illuminated your face and neck, and your lips were raw from biting. Forgetting himself, Joel had called out to you and asked if you were okay. With no response, a twinge of anxiety pinched his heart. Oh fuck, were you sick?

“Are you feeling alright? You look a little… flustered darling,” Joel said, a slight tremor in his voice as every possible catastrophe ran through his mind.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that you gave a fuck,” you snapped, the bitterness to your usually sweet tone slapping him in the face.

Surprised, Joel’s eyes widened for a moment before he studied you, watching as you stumbled through an apology. If Joel didn’t know any better, he would have asked you if you were on drugs, but he knew that he had left his stash in Boston. There weren’t any drugs in the cabin either, he had torn through it a couple times in his low moments to check. He watched as your words slurred together as you spoke, sweat covering every inch of you, but it wasn’t until Joel noticed the slight shift to your hips under the table that it dawned on him. You were going into heat.

Fuck. He hadn’t even thought about that. How could he not fucking think about that? The last omega he had been with was Sarah’s mom. Tess was a beta so heats were not really an issue with her. He hadn’t had a rut since Boston, he didn’t even think he could get hard until a few weeks ago when you stumbled into his life. Joel had chalked it up to age, he was 56 after all. Men went limp way earlier than that all the time. Unfortunately for him, the bastard was apparently just on vacation because now his cock twitched to life every time you so much as looked his way. Now, with the smell of the sweetness leaking out of you, Joel had to bear down on every muscle in his body to ensure that he didn’t vault over the table and clamp his teeth down on your neck.

Your apology was long, or at least he thought so as he bent the silverware in his hands. He watched as your frantic hands tried to keep up with your garbled speech. Each movement from you sent a ripple of air to his nostrils, and everytime he inhaled he could feel something dark and primal stirring below his belt. Finally, you had excused yourself and scampered off to the bedroom, leaving nothing behind but a wet seat. Joel stared at the spot, having to vehemently berate himself in order to stop the urge to walk over and bury his face in it. Shit, he needed some air.

Pushing his seat back from the table, Joel moved as quickly as he could. He shoved his arms through the first jacket he could find, even though he felt like he was burning up, before he ripped the door open and ran down the steps of the cabin. The cool air leached into Joel’s sweaty body as he stumbled through into the brush, fighting against his instincts as they screamed at him to turn around. He was frustrated, his cock half hard and pushing into his zipper as he moved clumsily into the night.

It wasn’t until he had been walking for about five minutes that Joel realized that he wasn’t wearing any shoes. His body was so overheated, he had barely felt the frozen earth against his socked feet. Joel swore, scrubbing his face with his hands before turning back towards the cabin. He didn’t want to go back, what he wanted to do was walk straight past the trees in front of him and into the rushing waters. He wanted to sink into the icy river and let it take him away, to be released from the constant torment that you were unknowingly inflicting upon him. But he couldn’t do that, you needed him.

“Fuck’s sake,” Joel groaned, begining his trek back home.

Only making it a couple of steps, Joel stumbled over something before catching himself on the gnarled tree stump to his left. He regained his balance before peering down at the ground in search of a culprit. Expecting to see a log or twisted tree root, Joel’s blood goes cold. What he was not expecting to find was an emptied soup can in his path. Joel gulped as he reached out his now shaking hands to examine it. It was fresh, with a few scoops of red broth coating the bottom and suddenly Joel’s chest was tight. His ears pricked up as he whipped his head around, trying to discern which route the intruder had taken.

In all his years stranded in the forest, he had never had anyone get within five miles of his cabin, and now in the span of less than a month he had two people come across him? Fuck, he needed to get back. Backtracking towards the cabin, Joel tried to compose himself as he began to jog. He needed to remain calm, he didn’t want to scare you.

Just as Joel picked up the pace, a shriek pierced through the still air and made him freeze before he found himself crashing through the trees.

- You -

The cold water pelted down on your figure as you shook violently. You couldn’t think of Joel if you were focusing on trying to breathe, right? After a few minutes of tormenting yourself under the frosty spray, you finally stepped from the shower, feeling only slightly less flustered. Just then, you heard the front door click and two heavy boots make their way across the threshold. You sighed, Joel was back, which meant you would have to face him after embarrassing yourself again. Fuck.

“Better to get it over with,” you whispered to yourself, toweling off before slipping into some loose shorts and one of Joel’s shirts that you had added to your growing collection.

Bracing yourself, you stepped into the hallway and padded softly into the hall. Joel didn’t answer as you called him and you cringed. Was he THAT pissed at your stupid little outburst? You sighed, steeling yourself and moving into the living room, only to be met with an acrid smell that stung your throat. Eyes watering, you moved into the room and tried to pinpoint the smell before a set of hands grabbed your hips from behind.

You shrieked.

- Joel -

Joel felt like the sky was falling as he ran through the thicket. He tried to focus as his legs moved as quickly as they could, but memories flashed through his mind anyways. Sarah. Tess. Ellie. Now you? No, he couldn’t think of that right now. He needed to get to you.

Finally reaching his home, Joel bound up the stairs that he had built, taking them two at a time, and tore into the living room. His eyes darted across the room, taking in the broken vase before landing on the clump of hair that had clearly been ripped out of someone’s scalp. Joel refocused as he heard you cry out, feet crunching under the broken glass as he barreled into the bedroom.

The scene before Joel made his blood boil. A greasy looking alpha was trying to claw the shorts off of your legs. A bloody patch gleamed at him from a filthy scalp, blood beading from where you had torn out a clump of straggly hair. You were beating at his chest, crying and objecting as you tried to buck him off of you. Your legs kept kicking at him as he tried to undress you, which clearly angered the man. The alpha raised his hand to slap you into submission.

Joel snapped.

He ripped the man off of you and slammed him to the floor, looming over him momentarily as the blood rushed in his ears. The man tried to lunge at him, growling and spitting, but Joel caught him by the neck and slammed him back onto the hardwood. The filthy man wheezed and scraped at the vice around his neck as Joel choked him, his eyes bulging from the lack of oxygen.

“Go into the other room,” Joel said.

When you made no move, he turned his head slightly and looked into your teary eyes.

“Go. Now.”

This wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command, and you obeyed before your mind could get in the way. Joel turned back to the man as you scurried out of the room, the door swaying shut behind you. He eased his grip and watched as the now purple faced man sucked air into his foul smelling mouth. He wanted to punch the yellow teeth out his reddened gums, to make him choke on them, but he needed answers first.

“You’re gonna tell me where you came from, how many people you’re with, and what the fuck you’re doing here,” Joel said.

“Fuck y- AGH!,” the man groaned as Joel slammed his fist into his nose.

Blood trickled down the man’s sallow face, staining the planks of wood below his head. Joel tsked as the man’s eyelids fluttered, slapping his jaw to keep the bastard focused.

“I’m gonna ask you again, real nice. Choose your next words carefully, or things are about to get a lot worse for ya.”

Panting and eyes watering as blood ran into his mouth, the man focused on Joel before he spat out, “Just because her daddy is gone, doesn’t mean she gets off free. We’ve been after her for the past year, nearly gave up too, but I caught her trail. Reckon Paul or Cooper will too soon enough, and she’ll be back where she belongs. She might’ve made it out of the pit, but that don’t mean the debt is paid. Might take a few months like it did me, but they’ll find her.”

Grabbing his face, Joel peered into the man’s eyes, searching for any hint of deceit before he slammed his skull into the boards again. The man groaned and cussed, the back of his head now dented and bleeding.

“Who the fuck are Paul and Cooper? What debt?,” Joel seethed.

The man choked on his own blood as he cackled, coughing and sputtering below Joel.

“You have no idea the shit you have just stepped in man. She doesn’t belong to you, Josiah had already chosen for her. Her little vacation to the pit was a punishment, not a get out jail free card. Paul will still be after what’s his.”

Suddenly exasperated, Joel wrapped his hands around his neck. The man’s eyes widened once more, the light slowly receding from them after Joel felt the snap of his neck beneath his fingers. He stood over the corpse, feeling nothing but rage. Blood pounding in his ears, he wanted to tear into someone, wanted to burn whoever thought to harm you into the ground, he wanted to rip their throat out with his own teeth, he wanted -

Hearing a sniffle from behind him, Joel spun on his heels and found a shaking figure.

“Babygirl,” Joel sighed, his legs carrying him to you in an instant.

Despite his attempts for the past few weeks to distance himself from you, Joel didn’t even think twice before he picked you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist and practically strangling him, you clung to him like a koala bear as the two of you left the corpse behind. Tears soaked his collar and he tried not to gag at the acrid smell of another alpha covering you. Your nose was pressed into his neck, huffing at his skin as he moved into the living room.

“S’okay darling, I’m here. It’s over, I gotcha. He ain’t gonna do nothing to ya, nobody is. I swear,” Joel whispered in your ear, his words easing the tremors that racked your frame.

A sob tore out of your chest and it made Joel wish he had the power of resurrection, just so he could kill that man all over again. He refocused, knowing that he couldn’t let himself get angry with you in this state. Continuing to whisper sweet words into your ear, Joel grasped the back on your neck, pulling you back slightly as you blubbered from the loss. He hushed you, weighing his options for a moment before shoving his own face into your neck. Working gently, Joel rubbed his face into your neck and covered the sour stench with his own as he kissed and nipped at the delicate skin. You cried out, and he almost stopped before the tension slowly left your shoulders.

The real cries came, and your fingers locked into his hair and pushed Joel’s face into your neck harder as he scented you. He hummed as you sobbed nonsensical things, continuing to rub your back and hold the back of your neck.

“I-I-I didn’t, he was gonna, and I didn’t want t-t-o,” you wailed and his heart practically shattered.

Joel whined at the admission and he pulled back once more, taking the hand off of your neck and using it to wipe the tears and snot from your face.

“I know sweetheart, I know. But he didn’t, okay? He didn’t, and he’s never gonna. I gotchu, okay? You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured quietly, almost like he was promising himself.

“D-did you k-kill him?,” you stammered.

An uneasiness settled over him as he replied, “Well now, I don’t want you to be thinking ‘bout all that. I did what I had t-”

“I’m not mad Joel, I’m grateful. He could’ve… Well, I guess it's like you said, he didn’t, but he could’ve and I don’t know what…,” you sniffed, the sobs easing up but tears still dripping down your face as you whispered, “Thank you Joel.”

Joel shook his head sharply, “Ain’t nothing to thank me for. I’d never let someone hurt you like that, I’d never let anyone hurt you at all. You’re mine. Hell, I’d kill him again if I could. He had no right to even think -”

He had to stop before his blood began to boil once more, an urge to bare his teeth and growl sliding up from the more primal part of him as Joel briefly considered what would have happened if he hadn't made it. He looked away for a moment, trying to compose himself as he stared at the wall. No, he thought to himself, not now. She needs you.

Soft hands came up and grabbed his cheeks, squishing them as his head was turned forward once more. The last tears rolled down your face, slight tremors jostling you. The panic in your eyes was slowly fading as both of you breathed in each other's presence. You were okay, you were both okay, Joel tried to tell his racing mind.

“Breathe Joel,” you instructed, your soft gaze hypnotizing him as you held him in your grasp.

At that moment Joel realized that the tremors that jostled your frame were coming from him. His body was buzzing, the feeling of a looming threat still slamming his heart against the walls of his chest. It felt like he was having a heart attack, which made him panic more because he needed to protect you. He tried to breathe but he didn’t know how to make his lungs work properly, dizziness began clouding his panic attack.

“Breathe,” you said more forcefully, commanding him to take easy breaths as you rubbed one of your hands over his chest.

Joel closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on matching his breaths to yours as he tried not to wheeze. The hand on his chest eased some of the tightness that wrapped around him and constricted his heart. The other hand was dug into his graying curls, scratching at his scalp and pushing his face back into your neck. A rumbling noise came up from his chest as the last vestiges of danger ebbed away in his mind, still lurking in the shadows but no longer beating at the inside of his being. Sweet nothings whispered in his ear, Joel groaned softly and rubbed his nose against your gland. Mindlessly sucking on the mouth watering skin, Joel tried to remember the last time anyone had cared for him like this.

He wondered if it was Tess for a moment, before having to stop himself from laughing. Joel had loved Tess as his best friend, but she was anything but sweet. They had indulged each other mainly out of convenience. Once they were done fucking or trying to beat off the loneliness by simply sharing a bed, it was back to business. Joel didn’t feel the same way the one time the subject of more was broached and besides, Tess loved pussy too much to be stuck with someone with a dick.

“Better?,” you asked him softly and he hummed in reply, snuffling at your neck for a moment before pulling back.

Joel grabbed your face, pulling your foreheads together and closing his eyes again. He could feel your breath tickling his mustache as he kept his head against yours, reminding him that you were alive. Moving back, Joel kissed you gently on the tip of your nose and wiped your face off again. Satisfied, he moved to lift you off of him. You cried out, scrambling to wrap yourself around him as he sunk back down on the couch.

“I… Baby, I can’t just leave him in there. Let me go in and I’ll clean it up for y-,” a whine cut Joel off and he sat back, unsure of what to do and unwilling to make you cry again.

“Please alpha,” you whined, “Please stay with me.”

With the urgency of the request Joel didn’t even have to think, allowing himself to gather you in his arms once more before he said, “Course baby, I’m right here. Never gonna leave you. How could I? S’alright, just rest.”

As he sat on the couch with you straddling him, your nose pressed into his collar and arms wrapped around his neck, Joel tried not to think of the bloody corpse in the next room. He tried to push the questions he had for you out of his brain as your body got heavier and heavier with each passing moment. He tried not to think about the fact that your body was feverish, scent heightened as a heat slowly made its way out of your core and beckoned him with more intensity with each passing moment.

Instead Joel let his face push into your hair. He soaked his senses in your aroma, letting it coat the back of his throat as he nuzzled you again. Joel closed his eyes once more, allowing his heart rate to slow with your body safe in his embrace, and let his exhaustion take over.

#alpha!joel miller #angst #comfort #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #omega reader #a/b/o dynamics #eventual smut #the last of us #violence mention #tlou fanfic #joel tlou

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cherrysurf · 3 months ago

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Metanoia | Atsumu Miya X Reader

Chapter 4; the weekend

You wake up around 1 in the afternoon, feeling like you could sleep in the whole day but can’t unfortunately, well at least not today. As you drag yourself to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face to wake up fully, you haul yourself over to the kitchen greeted by kiyoko who’s at the table doing some assignments that she missed during the week, “hey yn did you read the group chat already?” she asks typing away on her computer, “no not yet I just woke up” you say as your pulling a redbull out the fridge cracking it open and walking over to the table to sit. “Well osamu is coming around 5 to prep and then the rest of the boys are coming around 5:30” she says as she’s still looking down at her computer “okay good when was all this planned?” You ask sipping on your energy drink “well around 7:30 when you were still in bed, if it makes you feel better tho keiji had just fall asleep at 7:30 so he’ll probably show up a bit later” she says looking up at you “mmh I’m not suprised he stays up to so other people’s assignments and gets paid really well” you say “anyways ima go shower I’ll leave you with your art assignments” you say getting up and walking off “kk yn” kiyoko says

Its now 5 O’clock you and kiyoko are chilling on the couch watching love is blind japan and then you hear a knock “oh it’s probably samu I’ll get it” you say to kiyoko as you get off the couch and make your way over to the door, “hey samu” you say opening the door to see Osamu standing in the doorway in casual attire “hey yn surprised you’re up right now, thought you’d be asleep still” he says making his way past you and into the apartment, “hahaha very funny, did the boys text you when they’d be here?” You say closing the door and following osamu into the kitchen “uhm yeah keiji and tsuki are gonna be on there way in a few, as for kenma i think he’s coming at like 5:20ish” he says opening the fridge, “mmh okay figured” you say leaning on the counter. “yeah I’ll get started on cooking, what are you and kiyoko watching?” He says looking for pans “love is blind” you say, “yn hurry your missing what’s going down right now!” Kiyoko yells, “turn up the tv I wanna hear too” osamu says “okay samu! yn come they just found out he was cheating!” Kiyoko responds, you dash over to your original seat on the couch to see this unfold

It’s now 5:30 keiji, tsukishima and kenma all got there and are sitting around in the living room, as you and kiyoko set the table and make sure the house looks presentable for the guests “I don’t know why you care so much it’s just bokuto and hinata you know” tsuki mentions from the couch “it’s not just them first off, and who cares how I take care of my house is an extension of myself” you say as your setting down plates “yeah if the boys didn’t have kuroo to keep them in check on cleaning I know the boys would slack” kenma says while playing on his game switch “they’ve always been like that since highschool tho” akaashi responds as he’s watching tv

7:30 rolls around as osamu just finished making the food and it’s all set out, kenma, tsuki, keiji and kiyoko are all sitting down, you and osamu go get the door and there stands kuroo, atsumu, bokuto, and hinata. “Hey guys” osamu says they all go give him a hug while you stand there “hi it’s so nice to meet all of you my name is yn” you say holding your hand out “hey yn my name is kuroo” he says shaking your hand, hinata and bokuto did the same thing after they walked into to go greet everyone else, “hey my name is atsumu it’s nice to finally meet my brothers best friend.” He says with a small smile looking at you, “hey it’s nice to meet you too, you guys actually do look so different now that I’m looking at both of you side by side” you say observing atsumu and osamu “yea yea i know im the better one” atsumu says with a laugh, “in your fucking dreams piss head” as osamu elbows him “come let’s go eat before the food gets cold I’m starving” you say leading them into the kitchen “yeah or before little trio eats it all” atsumu says.

-yn is no longer in denial atsumu is fine.

-osamu is very sus abt atsumu’s true intentions rn.

Taglist; @heartmaddie @liquidcatt @toorusfangirl @akaashislovee @saintcosette @twiishaa @w2mini @from-mae @exclusiverinaa

#haikyuu #haikyu #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x you #atsumu smau #msby atsumu #atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader #haikyuu atsumu #hq atsumu #miya atsumu #atsumu #metanoia atsumu x reader

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gaiamossiah · 2 months ago

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Finally watched the new eps of season 7 because I saw a clip of Isamu already as well as the matoba right eye scene. And ever since reading the chapter about it, I've been wondering (probably a lot of fans, too), whether:

1. The Matoba ancestor with the "sight" already, met the yokai and it helped them solve something and the reward would be the Matoba right eye. Or;

2. The right eye belonged to the yokai to begin with. I dont want to slander their clan but it just crossed my mind. What if the ancestor does not initially have the "sight" but they require it to solve something? So this yokai helped them by letting them "borrow" their eye and once the ordeal is done and solved, they should return it. But they didn't. And with the yokai having their sense of time as it is, didn't come for it until much later. Then the Matoba clan already flourished in the exorcist business and returning the eye would endanger them losing their "sight" altogether. And losing the sight will make them lose their source of income i guess. (Idk if they have other businesses out there aside from exorcism stuff but yeah)

It was just kinda strange how there's already a spot for the eye... Like someone just yoinked it out. Unlike the bug yokai with Natsume's relative, the one asking for a mouth? It does not have a mouth yet but hunts people who can "see" to give him one.

But hey it could also be someone else (not a matoba) yoinked the eye out first. Then it met the Matoba ancestor and made a promise they could not or have no plans of fulfilling. Idk for how long the Matoba clan has been having this eye issue but it would be crazy if Reiko is the one who yoinked the eye before it met the Matoba guy (just considering this theory, ok?). Or maybe someone from the Natsume clan way waaaaay back ( I just assume the Natsumes were a big clan before or idk some legendary ssr grade family that has strong sight power once every few gens).

Idk if there's other media of natsuyuu (like light novels, special chapters only available to certain people, etc.) out there other than the manga so I have no idea if the truth about this matter has been revealed already and I've only read the manga until chapter 119. So be kind if i said anything wrong and pls correct me kindly :)))) i would love to know actually what happened hahaha im one of the rare ones that love spoilers haha

#natsume yuujinchou #matoba clan

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seeminglydark · 6 months ago

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1. since john tries to stay away from tech as much as possible, i think it would be funny to see what would happen if he got his hands on like a secondhand e-reader or laptop and what it would look like if he tried to use it. it would also be cool to see if or what kind of stickers he would use to decorate it.

2. i know it’s kind of a difficult topic. but since i’ve been reading your comic, I think the “Creaky” storyline is one of my favorites. Being able to escape a difficult upbringing and being able to find solace and comfort in found family. I’ve imagined that with the help of his newfound friends, John would go back to his father’s house and take back some of his most prized possessions because I think John would be the type of person that would value things and attach those objects to memories of people. I think it would be fun to see how John adapted to a new environment and being able to live freely (full-time) and thrift for clothes and other things. I think it would be interesting to see his thoughts of when he entered his first apartment and see how he decorated it and see how it has evolved into the glimpses that we’ve seen.

hahaha while i understand what you're asking here, he would of course one hundred percent fumble it, the last thing he had was a flip phone from the early 2000's when he was in highschool, so of course he wouldnt be good with laptops or anything. as far as an e-reader goes, john is severely dyslexic (undiagnosed, so untreated) and reading is already a huge struggle, which is why he uses the walkman and listens to audio books. the truth is, were he to get his hands on these things, he simply wouldnt use them. but its fun to imagine him like my 80 year old dad doing the ol' point and shoot typing style with two fingers! Caro and Maddie show him things on their phone and on the internet all the time anyway, so hes not missing the good memes ha! Creaky is also my fave storyline, I'm so glad you're enjoying it! To answer your first question, no, he wouldn't actually go to his dads at any point, and even if he did, none of his stuff would still exist sadly. on a brighter note, he DOES get to retrieve some of his old things, either after hooking back up with Caro (who has his battle jacket, fuck belt and a few other things) and because his Highschool pals Georgie and Dee would totally have a ton of his stuff in the back of Dee's van, so he'd get his walkman, some clothes, his cross earrings that belonged to his mom, and a few other precious things, and you are right, he does connect objects to people. His biggest problem is not remembering much about what some of those connections were. Another factor here is the fact that there is a protection order between he and his ad put in place by Maddie's stepdad Dr Parker, John's dad isnt allowed within a certain amount of distance to John so, going to his house wouldnt be allowed. Even with his friends (in Seemingly Dark, the Fenris chapter) facing down with his father is almost impossible because of his fear and trauma. There will be more about that in the future! on the second note, im actually in process of turning Creaky into a stand-alone book! Which is why I haven't drawn anything here in reply to Johns reactions to new places, new friends and new environments, its all things I want to explore more in depth in the new version of my fave story line. <3 Heres links to some of the progress on the New Creaky! and here!

#long post #oc chit chat #ask box #anon asks #comics #original characters

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 1 year ago

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[CN] Victor’s Nostalgic Memories Date (Eng Translation)

“You’re my first.”

“You’re my first, too.”

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 旧忆之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

─

【Subbed Video】

[Heads-up]: Read the transcript for reading, but PLEASE DO WATCH THE VIDEO!! THE BGMS, THE VOICE ACTING, EVERYTHING!! (also, yes, I’ve made my real-time reactions 🤪)

youtube

───────

【Transcript Version】

【Chapter 1】

Not long ago, Victor received a commemorative book.

The sender is his alma mater, Loveland Central Elementary School, which is about to celebrate its 100th anniversary.

The book is filled with old photos of his school. With unending excitement, I relentlessly search for that familiar figure among them.

Little Victor holding up his award certificates with a composed demeanor, hoisting the national flag with aplomb, or standing on the winner’s podium during the sports meet… all these are images of him I haven’t seen before.

MC: Model student, flag-raiser, long-distance running gold medalist… how many more surprises does this man have in store that I still don’t know about?

?? (Victor): What are you muttering to yourself this time?

I look up and find that Victor has entered the bedroom without me noticing.

MC: I can’t help but feel sentimental~ After all, you were that “kid from someone else’s family” when we were little.

–

[Tidbits]: The term MC uses here is “别人家的小孩,” I guess you’ll understand this better if you are an Asian/ of Asian descendance/ have Asian parents LOL; it’s often used to describe how parents spur their own kids into working harder by often mentioning “the other kid” as a role model who usually excels in many aspects~ :> And MC playfully follows this with– he belongs to her/ they’re a family now. So, she can take pride that “the prized boy” is all hers 🤣💕 (aside from the obvious knife about MC being regretful of missing out on each other’s lives, which comes later~ 🥲)

–

Victor: Someone else’s family?

Watching his cool and collected expression as he arches an eyebrow, I cheekily walk up to him.

MC: Hehe, but now you’re mine~

As I notice him smiling slightly, I can’t help but be insatiable and pull him along to join me in flipping through the photo album.

We have just flipped through a few photos of the “Campus Singing Competition” when the person beside me seems to have seen something, causing his pupils to quiver ever so slightly.

Following his gaze, I catch a glimpse of a young kid with dramatic stage makeup, sporting a red dot on the space between his brows.

Before I can take a closer look, the commemorative book in front of me is abruptly snapped shut.

MC: Wait!

Hastily, I clutch his hand down and carefully inspect the photo. There is actually a small caption below it that reads–– “Little Victor, photographed by Dad”

Astounded, I snatch the book and examine it closely–– the child’s solemn expression, with furrowed brows, is unmistakably identical to that of a certain someone I know so well.

I stare at Victor in utter disbelief, while he seems to have already resigned himself and closed his eyes.

MC: Hahahaha–– you’re so cute, hahaha!

Victor: …stop laughing, give me back the book.

MC: Alright, but you have to agree to one condition of mine.

Victor: ...you sure know how to make demands.

MC: Don’t want to agree? Well, then I might just turn you into an emoji pack, huh?

Victor takes a deep breath as if he has reached the limit of his patience. He then takes out his phone, quickly taps on the screen, and holds it to his ear.

Victor: I had planned to bring a certain someone along to visit the school when I’d sign the contract to donate to the school building.

Victor: But since the photos seem enough to satisfy you, I think I’m gonna talk to the school about reducing your title to a colleague.

Hearing his words, I immediately grab his arm, displaying a sincere expression.

MC: Why didn’t you tell me about the building donation before? I’m not laughing anymore, I promise!

He arches an eyebrow and moves his phone a few inches away, as if waiting for me to offer a bigger bargaining chip.

I narrow my eyes and steel myself.

MC: I’ll give you three of my embarrassing childhood photos!

Victor: Deal.

Hearing a muffled chuckle in my ears, I suddenly realize what’s going on. I seize his phone and, sure enough, find that the screen is still locked.

MC: …you’re so childish, Victor!

Despite my reproach, he remains composed and raps my head.

Victor: He who touches ink becomes black, you know?

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】

Victor: …wish strips?

An old metal box is gently placed on the table, inside of which is stacked with many pieces of weathered papers, tinged with a yellow hue.

After the completion of the donation contract signing, only three people remain in the empty conference room— the two of us and the principal.

Principal: When I learned that you were coming back, I inquired with your homeroom teacher about anything that might have been left behind from back then, and she really found it.

Even as I try hard to focus my attention on their conversation, an inevitably innate urge drives me to reach out and flip through the wish strips with my fingers, looking for a certain one.

Soon, a weathered piece of paper catches my eyes, with meticulously and neatly penned six letters that form the name “Victor.”

However, before I can reach my hand for it, a large hand with slender fingers lands on top of the paper––

Forced by the seriousness of the atmosphere we are in now, I can do nothing but watch helplessly as Victor nonchalantly slips the note into his pocket.

Victor: If there’s anything else you need help with in the future, please feel free to contact me again.

Principal: Thank you, Little Vic. Despite your remarkable achievements in the outside world, you still haven’t forgotten your alma mater.

–

[Tidbits]: I’m freaking crying, haha–– look at his Principal still calling this grown-ass man “小李 (Xiao Li)” aksdknld– the sheer adoration you can’t let go of despite the admiration a person has achieved from you– 🥺

–

Victor: You’re too kind. On a different note, I wish to take my girlfriend on a tour of the school later. I wonder if it would be convenient?

Principal: Absolutely! You two are welcome to wander around and have a good time.

–

It’s summer vacation, and the campus is absolutely empty.

The continuous symphony of cicadas seems to transport me through countless summers, carrying me to the past that belongs to him.

Hand in hand, we walk beneath the shade of the sycamore tree, retracing the journey captured in old photos, from the faintly plastic-scented crimson athletic track to the library, and eventually arriving at his former classroom.

–

MC: Where would you sit back then?

Seeing him pointing to a seat in the back row, I press against the window frame and peer inside, yearning to glimpse that small figure across the boundaries of time and space.

MC: Do you have any special memory from your elementary school days?

Victor: What do you mean by special?

MC: Copying homework? Not paying attention in class? Or maybe… puppy love?

It seems like he’s heard something that displeased him; a slight frown creeps onto his face, and he gives me a subtle, scrutinizing look.

Victor: [strikes immediately LMFAO] Your elementary school life was this eventful and colorful? It seems like I underestimated you a little.

MC: Of course not; I didn’t do anything of the sort! I’m just simply curious about your school life~

Victor: It was like any regular elementary school student’s life–– attending classes, doing homework after school, and occasionally playing soccer. Nothing out of the ordinary––

Suddenly, the sound of a series of brisk footsteps interrupts his words. Before long, two kids carrying backpacks appear at the far end of our sight.

Little Boy: Did you check? If you forget to bring your homework again, I won’t come with you next time.

Little Girl: I’ve really brought it this time! Where should we go to do our homework today?

Little Boy: The library.

Little Girl: But we need to stay quiet in the library, and I won’t be able to talk with you there.

Little Boy: …let’s go to the burger joint then.

Watching their departing figures from behind, I tug at the corner of Victor’s clothes.

MC: Have you ever done homework together with other kids?

Victor: Might have done some group assignments at some point.

MC: With you sitting next to them, their study efficiency must have gotten a massive boost. I’m really envious of those classmates who had the chance to do homework with you…

Hearing me say this, Victor’s face takes on a curious and contemplative expression.

Victor: Don’t be envious. I’ve got an idea.

MC: What do you have in mind?

Victor: It just so happens that I have to work tonight. You can bring in your unfinished proposal, and we can “do homework” together.

MC: …I’ll pass. Even a dummy can tell the difference between a friendly invitation and being supervised by a capitalist.

As we are talking, I see the kids from earlier run out of the convenience store in front of the school gate.

With delight on their faces, they share a pack of crisp instant noodles. The savory and crispy aroma from afar feels as if it reaches the tip of my teeth as well.

Just like me, Victor turns his head toward the source of the noise. Upon seeing his reaction, I immediately reach out and take his hand.

MC: Wanna go to the convenience store? It’s my treat!

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

The store is not big, but it boasts a diverse selection of snacks arranged on the shelves.

However, my eyes are drawn to a seemingly ordinary pack of candy tucked away in the corner. Memories of my elementary school days rush back, when this candy was all the rage for playing pranks, and I also couldn’t resist tasting it once myself––

Even at this very moment, the fast secretion of saliva in my mouth is a vivid reminder of its “special” flavor.

Filled with curiosity, I pick up the candy and shake it at Victor.

MC: This candy used to be so popular back in the day. Have you ever tried it?

Victor: Nope, I haven’t.

MC: Your childhood is missing just a little something, then.

Victor: If being a glutton is your yardstick, you probably had the most complete childhood in the whole world.

Listening to his playful banter, I silently make up my mind to tease him a little. I grab the candy and settle the bill.

Just imagining the look on his face when he tastes the sourness makes me involuntarily curl my lips into a smile. However, realizing that his gaze is fixed on my face, I hasten to temper my smile.

MC: Victor, may I fill in the missing pieces of your childhood?

Victor: No need.

Ignoring his attempt to decline with a shake of his head, I affectionately bring a candy close to his lips.

MC: Come on, give me some face! I never asked any boy students out for snacks back when I was in school. You’re my first.

Upon hearing my words, his motions pause momentarily, and he stares at me fixedly with downcast eyes.

Just when I think he’s going to reject me again, he softly lets his lips part, lowers his head, and eats the candy from my hand.

I instantly widen my eyes, not wanting to miss any nuance of his expression. But all I see him is chewing the candy nonchalantly without any changes in his demeanor.

This isn’t right… could they have changed the recipe? Puzzled, I pop a candy into my mouth, but as soon as it touches my tongue, I grimace from the sourness.

MC: Sss! So sour!

Victor seems to can’t hold back and bursts into laughter.

Victor: Mmm, it’s indeed sour.

MC: You did that on purpose!

As my indignant glare meets his eyes, he arches an eyebrow in response.

Victor: You sure have a talent for turning the tables. But speaking of doing it on purpose—

Victor: Back when I was in school, I never teased or played with any girl students, either. You’re my first, too.

The candy in my mouth still gives rise to an unending stream of sourness, yet I can distinctly taste a sweet flavor.

Victor: So happy that you’re in a silly daze?

Upon hearing his teasing, I realize I’ve been rooted to the spot and giggling like a silly person this whole time. I quickly pretend to be composed and divert the topic.

MC: I was thinking that we visited all the locations where each of the old photos was taken, except for one that slipped through the cracks!

MC: Where was that adorable picture of you with the red dot between your brows taken?

Victor: Why do you always apply your surplus obsession in places where it’s not necessary?

MC: Humph, it took me so much effort to get you to bring me here. Even if I have to dig the school three feet deep today, I’ll definitely find it!

Seeing me steadfastly staring at him, he lets out a sigh and helplessly takes my hand.

Victor: My alma mater had to spend so much effort to reach the lifespan of a hundred years. I’m not letting it be dug up by you.

—

We’re obviously supposed to be searching for the location of the photo. However, Victor brings me back to his old family home, which is currently empty.

Before I can even ask anything, my gaze is captivated by a rather extravagant box of jewelry on the foyer table.

As I let out a small gasp of surprise, Victor also glances over, and his expression turns somewhat speechless.

Victor: Aunt Grace purchased these during her trip abroad. She said you might get tired of seeing me in formal attire, so I should occasionally change things up…

MC: Pfftt! Why didn’t she just send them to you directly?

Victor: Because I declined. She probably planned to take a roundabout approach and ask my dad for help.

MC: Well, that works out perfectly. There’s no need to bother Uncle.

I “obligingly” pat my chest as an expression of “taking responsibility” and put the ornaments in my bag.

MC: But you didn’t especially bring me here just to pick this up, right?

Victor shoots me a wordless glance and then points toward the flower house ahead.

–

Victor: Not just the head is slow, the eyes are slow too.

MC: Hey, you meanie…

After a few seconds, I’m suddenly taken aback, my eyes widening. I pull out the photo from the commemorative book and compare it to the flower house before my eyes. To my surprise, it turns out to be exactly the same.

MC: This photo was actually taken at home?

Victor: After I came back from the performance, the teacher notified us that we needed to take a photo.

MC: But I thought you would remove your makeup right after the performance!

Victor: You’re right. I did wipe it off as soon as I got off the stage. But my dad deliberately used a red seal ink paste to reapply that dot.

Seeing the awkward look on his face, I can’t resist the urge to tease him and fish out the lipstick from my bag.

MC: How is it fair if you just make do with a red seal ink paste? Since the other kids have it on, you should too.

Victor: …I should not have told you.

He firmly grasps my unruly hand, but I use my left hand to snatch the lipstick and persistently keep inching closer to him. At this point, I’m practically draped onto his body.

Just as the lipstick is about to touch his forehead, he suddenly looks behind me.

Victor: Dad, you’re back.

I jump off him in a panic, and with my eyes closed, I immediately bow towards the entrance.

MC: Hello, Uncle!

After waiting for quite a considerable amount of time without any response, I’m beginning to feel slightly puzzled when I hear a soft chuckle from above me.

Victor: Turns out that there are still ways to restrain a certain someone’s out-of-control unruliness.

I raise my head and see that there is no one at the entrance.

Seeing the smirk of triumph in his eyes, I let out a “humph” and decide to turn the tables against him. At this moment, I coincidentally spot the wish strip peeking out from his pocket because of our earlier playful fooling around.

But he’s guessed my intentions, and almost simultaneously, he presses his fingertips on the slip of paper along with me. This results in a brief standoff as neither of us releases our hold.

The silent confrontation lasts for a few seconds until I pout, and that’s when I hear him let out a resigned sigh of compromise. I finally have my wish fulfilled and get my hands on his wish strip.

The paper has already yellowed and become brittle, but the carefully and neatly written words haven’t faded even a bit during the overlong passage of time––

“I want to grow up fast so that I can find her.”

Caught off guard by intruding into the “secret” of his past, I somehow feel a mixture of indescribable emotions flooding my heart.

How come he never mentioned to me that he had such a wish before? I can’t help but lift my eyes to look into his.

And he stares at me for a long, long time, as if he too wants to glean something from my expression. His lips twitch, but he doesn’t utter a single word even after a long time passes by.

Seeing him hesitate like this, I decide to be the one to break the silence first.

MC: Haha, I didn’t expect your wish to be so sincere and honest.

MC: But don’t worry, who didn’t have some little secrets in their childhood? I’ll just pretend I didn’t see it!

Victor: Little secret?

He doesn’t seem to have expected me to say this, causing him to evidently be stunned for a moment. But soon, a glint of playfulness sparks in his eyes.

Victor: Well, that’s a shame. I was originally going to share it with you, but since a certain dummy isn’t curious––

Victor: I guess I’ll just have to leave it be.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

He has really done what he said, not uttering a single word of explanation.

He even seems to be in high spirits as he grabs a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet, as if he does not feel my indignant glare fixed on him at all.

Victor: Let’s celebrate together.

MC: Celebrate what?

Victor: I’m really lucky; my wish has come true.

With a hint of tenderness crested between his eyebrows and in his eyes, he uncorks the wine bottle. “Pop”–– the celebration begins, but I feel as if it’s my heart that has begun to deflate.

I push down the bitter feelings in my heart and take a sip of my drink.

MC: Congratulations to you, then.

Victor: Why does this “congratulations” sound a bit like you’re saying it against your will?

Being relentlessly pressed by his step-by-step advances while he is greatly amused, I suddenly feel a mix of embarrassment and anger soaring into my chest.

MC: How should I congratulate you then? Do you want me to take a photo of you for comparison to prove that you’ve grown up properly, just as you wished?

Victor: Sure, how do you plan to take the photo for me?

Originally, it was just an impulsive remark I made out of anger. But his reply suddenly causes me to choke, rendering me momentarily speechless. I can’t help but feel a little itch in my teeth.

However, upon glancing at the extravagant jewelry box in my bag, I narrow my eyes.

The next second, I push him onto the couch and start “hanging” all the jewelry on him without even asking him.

Victor: …are you decorating a Christmas tree?

MC: Since we are taking new photos in the once familiar place, you naturally have to dress up enough like an adult to give them the true value of commemoration.

However, I gradually realize that the ornaments on him don’t look over the top at all; instead, they make him look even more exquisite.

Seeing this, I wickedly pull open a section of his collar, exposing a large expanse of sculpted muscles that charges into my eyes. I can’t help but gulp at the sight.

Victor: Is this how a certain dummy defines an adult?

MC: Why? Can’t I do this?

Hearing his soft chuckle, I huff in anger as I mutter under my breath.

The next second, my wrist is clasped in place, and I find myself falling into his arms. That familiar scent of his hems me tightly.

Victor: Of course you can. But I think there’s still a bit of room for enhancement.

His warm breath grazes my ear now and then, making my heartbeat accelerate involuntarily.

Realizing that my chance to counterattack is slipping through the cracks, I inwardly compose myself and tilt my head slightly, forcefully suppressing my racing heartbeat.

Aiming my gaze at the lipstick on the table, I immediately come up with a plan.

MC: You’re absolutely right; there’s still room for enhancement. It was my bad. I still need to mark you like an adult––

I grab the lipstick and apply several thick coats on my lips, then seal it with a big kiss on his cheek.

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, seemingly evident that he didn’t anticipate my move at all. After a brief moment, he just casually leans back against the couch.

Victor: Have you finished all your preparations for taking the photo?

Looking at his face painted with the mark of my kiss, I nod in satisfaction.

He raises an eyebrow at my reaction, then pulls me closer to him once again.

Victor: Now it’s my turn.

Victor: Photos that hold the true value of commemoration should be taken alongside the witness testimony who made my wish come true.

MC: Witness testimony? Me?

Victor: Is there a third person here?

Victor rubs his temples helplessly, but the smile hanging at the edge of his lips seems to validate the daring conjecture harbored in the depths of my heart.

MC: The “her” you wrote about in your wish strip… it’s me?

Victor: You dummy, who else could it possibly be except you?

Without a moment’s hesitation, he admits it candidly.

In this instant, my heart feels as if it has been drenched.

The mottled wish strip in front of me is akin to the tip of an iceberg I have somehow peered into. It reminds me that in places I’ve never seen, millions of emotions lie buried that I still don’t know about and have yet to fathom.

And those deep eyes of his, which have been fixed on me all along, are so honest and sincere without the slightest concealment, make me surer than ever that––

The impact of our childhood encounter, the bond that forged our destinies together, perhaps runs much deeper than I had ever imagined it to be possible.

It turns out that I have already had my place in his past long ago.

By the time I speak again, my tone has already become joyful.

MC: Ah–– it turns out I had already become your heart’s desire so, so early on. I must have had quite the charm back when I was little, huh~

Victor: …I really underestimated how thick-skinned you can be.

He laughs involuntarily and watches me quietly for a while. The light in his gaze becomes even deeper and more earnest.

Victor: But MC, when I say “I’m lucky,” it’s not because I found the little girl from my past.

Victor: It’s because of the fortunate circumstance–– that little girl turned out to be you.

I instinctively find myself rooted to the spot, feeling a tingling itch sprouting in my heart, as if a wobbly little flower has blossomed within me.

It’s not until he takes hold of my hand that I finally snap out of it. Accompanied by the silky smooth touch of his fingertips, an English word takes form on the glass wall of the flower room –– Morii.

MC: What does it mean?

He lowers his gaze to look at me, his eyes seemingly concealing a subtle smile.

Victor: Originally, for me, those past days were nothing but ordinary moments, days that I would never want to look back on.

Victor: But the moment you stepped inside and looked around, those old times suddenly came to life again.

Victor: Perhaps it’s the gift of a certain dummy; you’ve always made me want to keep holding onto these moments that exist because of you.

His gentle voice is reminiscent of a feather landing in my heart, creating concentric ripples of waves.

I find myself unable to contain my giggle and lean in closer to him.

MC: Then let’s keep holding onto it.

He is slightly stumped for a moment but soon understands the meaning of my words and turns on the camera, aiming it at us. From beginning to end, those eyes of his gazing at me have held a perpetual interplay of tender and fervent glimmers.

Lifting myself up on my toes, I approach the figure that is also drawing closer to me.

Two throbbing hearts appear to have traversed the confines of endless dusty time, seeking solace in each other’s arms time and time again.

Right at this moment, the flash of the camera lights up.

────────

[Tidbits]: Didn’t wanna break the immersion, so kept it for the last here. The word Victor led MC to write together, i.e., “Morii” means the “desire to capture a fleeting moment that cannot be retained.” It’s basically the ephemeral nature of life, the reminder of everything inevitable. It’s like a time in which you expect the least, a time in which that moment spontaneously confronts you, but there is nothing you can do to preserve it— and the desire to do all you can to keep that moment to yourself is “Morii.” And if you know Victor and Victor x MC’s story, I’m sure you understand why it’s so important that they wrote it together, or rather MC instinctively followed his strokes without asking why— (இ﹏இ`｡)❤️

—

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[Anika’s Long Analysis & Ramblings]

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#SCREAMING INTO MY HANDS EVEN NOW. PEOPLE READ THIS DATE WATCH THE VIDEO READ THIS DATE WATCH THE VIDEO AJSJDJDHF #also analysis + rambling word count: twelve hundred plus 🤗🫠#AKSHDHDJFHJ I JUST — WEEPING SCREAMING THROWING HANDS I LOVE HIM SO FCKING MUCH I LOVE THEM SO MUCH AJDHDGHHDH #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #李泽言 #恋与制作人 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translations

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borathae · 2 years ago

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↳ Index [Chapter 10 - Party]

Warnings: sexual harassment by a stranger, he gets what he deserves though, violence, sub!Reader, Dom!Taehyung, making out & dry humping on the dance floor, then there is: subby!Tae & Dom!Jimin with dry humping & cumming in pants, and then on a separate occasion: Dom!Jimin & sub!Reader, public sex in a club bathroom, thigh riding, sloppy making out, he fucks her against the sink, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), creampies, dirty talk, choking & breath play, he calls her a needy slut at some parts, he is a cocky bastard and we love him, questionable blood drinking sjdjsj, this chapter goes from cute to hot to creepy to okay hot to Jimin nO

Wordcount: 19.3k (listen there is so much plot & thirst hahaha)

a/n: listen. he. does things to me. i am both scared and aroused. lmao please help.

Yoongi and Jungkook are out hunting tonight. They took Hoseok with them. Seokjin and Emma are in their room. Their door is locked and if one decided to be a creep, one could hear certain sounds coming from inside. You take a huge step back once you realise what those grunts meant, apologizing quietly even if you are sure they didn’t even notice your presence.

You huff out air. Well there goes your plan for a fun board game evening with them.

“They deserve to have two on two time though”, you murmur, turning afterwards to make your way down the hallway, “I guess we have to make do with three players.”

You wanted to ask the gang if they were in the mood for games and some wine. Just moments ago, you finished the book you were reading the past week and started to feel rather bored in your room, while a board game evening started to sound like the perfect way to spend your evening. Emma and Seokjin are obviously out of the equation now and you hope that at least Jimin or Taehyung agree on playing a game.

You knock on Jimin’s room first because it is the one you pass by first.

He opens after a moment and like always, he wears nothing more than a towel. His hair is wet and the smell of shampoo is entering the hallway. It carries Taehyung’s scent in it. He was nice enough to borrow Jimin a bottle of it as Jimin obviously had no toiletry. Jimin and Taehyung went back to Thea earlier today to get Jimin’s very few belongings. However, a bottle of shampoo was not part of it, hence why Jimin now smells like Taehyung.

“What do you want?” he asks you, running his eyes up and down your body.

“Hey to you too”, you say, studying him.

“Hey”, he says, “what do you want? I’m a little busy.”

“Busy with what?”

“Washing my hair obviously?” he says and scoffs, “what else do you think I’m doing?”

“I think it looks good already”, you say, reaching out to tug a strand of it behind his ear.

He eyes your hand, “thanks.”

“You must admit, it’s nice having a warm shower again, isn’t it?” you say.

“I guess,” he says and nudges your hand away, “listen, what do you want?” he asks, sounding tired.

“Do you want to play board games?”

He scoffs condescendingly, “why should I play board games?”

You must admit, even if Jimin’s better than everything attitude is annoying at times, it is nice to know that he is getting some of it back again. Reuniting with Taehyung really gave him back some of his spark. You can also see it in the way his dark eye circles seem to have magically disappeared ever since he has Taehyung in his life again.

You shrug your shoulders, “don’t know. I’ll ask Tae as well. It’s just the three of us, maybe we could bond a little.”

Jimin grinds his teeth, studying your features. For a moment you think that he will throw the door closed on you, until he sighs dramatically. He rolls his eyes to the point you fear they will get stuck.

“Just tell me what Tae’s saying and then I’ll decide”, he says, closing the door on you right after. Seconds later you can hear R&B music playing and the sound of a blow dryer.

“Okay. Will do”, you murmur, leaving after giving his door one aggressive nudge, “rude. Don’t close the door on me.”

And so you continue your way to Taehyung’s room, hoping that he will say yes.

Taehyung doesn’t open the door, but calls out for you when you knock. So you enter, inhaling deeply. Goddamn, his room smells nice. Acrylic paints and his terribly expensive cologne with a hint of red wine. This is him. This is Taehyung on a good day. Expensive, artistice and sexy. You really missed this smell.

“Hello, my darling”, he says.

“Hey.”

“What brings you here?”

“I finished my book.”

“You did? Well, that’s wonderful to hear. How did you enjoy it?”

“It was nice. The ending felt a little rushed, but I think it still ended nicely.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.”

He is sitting on the floor, surrounded by his paints and wearing his painting clothes. No wonder he couldn’t get up, you have to do an entire gymnastics routine to make your way to him. You plop down on his lap.

“Oh? Hello there”, he says, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“Hey”, you say, resting your cheek on his shoulder, “what are you doing?”

“Just painting a little. I had some inspiration”, he answers you whilst giving you the softest of nibbles with his teeth. It tickles just enough to make you shiver, “mhm darling, you smell so nice”, he says, “are you wearing perfume?”

“A little.”

“It’s very nice”, he says, rubbing his nose against your neck. A soft kiss follows.

With your eyes closed, you speak.

“It's the perfume you got me.”

“Last year for the masquerade ball?”

“Yes, that one. I really like it.”

“Mhhm I like it too”, Taehyung whispers, inhaling deeply. His long fingers give your hips a gentle squeeze, letting you know that he was affected by your scent.

“It's almost empty though”, you sigh the words. His touches and soft kisses felt too good not to.

“That is no problem. I will buy you a new one.”

“Thank you, Tae”, you say, twirling his hair at the back of his head, “hey, Tae?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you want to play some board games?”

“Board games? Are the others going to join us as well?”

“No, they already left.”

“Left for what?”

“Yoongi and Kookie are hunting and Hobi joined them.”

“I see. Well, that is a shame. I would have loved to join them too”, Taehyung says and huffs out air.

You lean in and kiss his cheek, “see it as something positive. We’ve got the house to ourselves.”

Taehyung’s pout turns into a mischievous grin. He drops his paintbrush, lifting you in his lap so he could place you down on it high enough so you were face to face with him. He runs his hands up and down your back, lingering on your butt ever so often.

“Well, if you put it like that, perhaps I should be glad that they didn’t tell me”, he says, fluttering his lashes at you playfully, “what do you want to play? Strip poker, mhm? But I should warn you, I am going to use my teeth to undress you.”

You giggle, “that could be fun, couldn’t it?”

“Yes. Very”, he says, inching closer.

“But I don’t know if Jimin would be down for it.”

Taehyung halts.

“Jimin is here as well?”

“Yes, he’s washing his hair. I thought maybe we could play games together? The three of us?”

“You would want that?”

“Yes. I think that it could be fun.”

“Oh darling”, Taehyung smiles so brightly, that you’re glad you asked him, “that would make me so happy”, he says and stands up with you in his arms.

“Gosh Tae, don’t surprise me like that”, you say, giggling when he bounces you in his arms and leaves the room just like that, “are you going to carry me to his room?”

“Yes, of course. You shouldn’t have to walk.”

“Ah so silly.”

Taehyung snickers and kisses your cheek.

Jimin opens the door after the second knock.

“Geez. Are you serious?” he groans, “why you gotta be so cringe?”

“Be quiet”, Taehyung says, bouncing you in his arms to tighten his grip, “do you want to play games with us?”

Jimin studies the two of you and gives in with a loud sigh, “fine, just let me change into pants.”

“Of course. We are in the kitchen. Come join us.”

And with that said, he descends the stairs and Jimin closes the door to change into pants.

Taehyung places you on the kitchen counter, feeling up your thighs while between your hips not even a feather could fit through.

“You truly smell so good”, he says, “oh darling, I can’t get enough of you.”

“Tae”, you giggle as he nuzzles his face into you, “why are you so snuggly today? Are you hungry?”

“A little. Can I have you later?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

Taehyung purrs, squeezing your thigh.

“Please?” he tries, making you chuckle.

“We’ll see about it once you made me cum.”

“Deal. Oh, you’ve got yourself a deal”, he says, rolling his hips into you.

A sigh runs through you.

“So about that strip poker you were talking about?”

Taehyung chuckles, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“Did I tempt you?”

“Maybe a little? It could be hot.”

“Yes? Do you want to play it?”

“No.”

You both look at the doorway.

“If guys are going to play strip poker, I am leaving. I’m not in the mood to watch you guys crawl up each others’ asses.”

“You are no fun, Jimin. Aren’t you basically undressed already?” you say, pointing at his naked torso.

“This?” he looks down at himself, “honey, that’s me being dressed, I don’t know what you’re on about.”

You scoff, jumping off the kitchen counter.

“Don’t worry though, we’re not gonna play strip poker”, you run your eyes up and down his body, “you are not seeing my tits tonight.”

“Trust me, I didn’t plan on doing that either way.”

Taehyung snickers, then throws his arms over both your and Jimin’s shoulders.

“Oh you two, tonight is going to be fun”, he says, dragging you to the dining table, “what should we play first?”

“Anything but strip poker.”

“Fine, then normal poker. The loser has to take a shot.”

“Or we could actually go out”, Jimin suggests, “like good old times.”

“Oh? A night out?” Taehyung gasps, turning to you, “would you be interested in going out with us?” he asks you.

“Yes, I think that could be fun”, you say.

“Oh how wonderful. Let’s get ready then”, Taehyung says and lets out a squeaky giggle, taking your hand to tug you upstairs, “I have the perfect clothes for going out. Oh, I’m so excited.”

“Wait. What? Tae I don’t even have clothes for it”, Jimin complains, getting dragged along with Taehyung.

“That is okay. I have something for you”, Taehyung assures him, “darling, do you need something too? I have clothes that you could like.”

“You packed clothes for me?”

“I purchased them in Geneva, but never got the chance to give them to you.”

He flusters you.

“You did? Oh darling, please show me”, you gush, feeling oh so happy.

The clothes turn out to be the matching piece to Taehyung’s outfit. A black turtleneck with its sleeves missing and the back exposed. Black sequins adorn the fabric and a matching black bra keeps the top from slipping to places it wasn’t supposed to slip. Tight jeans reach you on the smallest part of your waist, accentuating your curves with the help of a delicate black belt. Taehyung matches with a black sequin top and leather pants, highlighting the look with a red leather jacket. He looks to die for and you feel beautiful.

Jimin hasn’t decided on an outfit yet, currently eyeing every piece of clothing Taehyung presents to him with slight judgment.

“How about this?” Taehyung offers, holding a black leather harness against Jimin’s torso, “you would look so handsome in this.”

“No. Fuck off with that. It’s ugly”, Jimin hisses, pushing at Taehyung’s chest.

This is the fifth piece of clothing he rejected.

Taehyung stumbles back, staring at Jimin with widened eyes.

“What’s wrong? Why are you so angry all of a sudden?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t like your clothes”, Jimin says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Taehyung lowers his hands sadly, running his eyes up and down Jimin’s torso.

“But why? You look really handsome in them”, he says with a pout.

Jimin scoffs.

"I don’t like it, okay?" he hisses.

“Okay, that’s okay. I have something else. Give me a moment, please”, Taehyung says, dropping the harness to instead look for something else, “do you want to look more modern or classic? I could offer you a sheer top, which still shows off your chest.”

“I don’t want to go out anymore”, Jimin says.

“What?” Taehyung gasps, getting up from looking through his suitcase to stare at Jimin, “but why? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I just. I don’t want to go out anymore.”

“I have this v-neck shirt. Do you want to try this? It shows off skin as well.”

“No. I don’t want to.”

Taehyung closes his mouth and stares. He fumbles with his fingers.

“Why?” he asks in a whisper.

“Because. That’s why.”

“Okay?” Taehyung tilts his head to the side, “is it the clothes?”

“Yes.”

Taehyung looks sad.

“I don’t…”, Jimin takes a deep breath, “I don’t want to show my chest in public.”

“Oh.”

Taehyung’s eyes flit to the silver mark. Yours do as well. Jimin covers it with his hand instantly. He lowers his head.

“Fuck, this is so fucking stupid. You are both so annoying”, he spits and tries to flee.

Taehyung holds his hands before he can, pulling them to his chest and holding them hostage right where his heart was once beating.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I have shirts which will cover you”, he says.

“You do?” Jimin asks nervously.

“Of course I do. Stay and let me show you and, and if you still don’t like them, then you can leave. Please?”

Jimin nods his head. Taehyung turns and hurries to his suitcase. He looks for a fitting shirt for a few moments before he exclaims in victory. He pulls out a black button up with a loose fit and a black leather corset.

“Pair this shirt with this corset and you will look very handsome”, he says excitedly, hurrying back to Jimin. He hesitates, looking into Jimin’s eyes, “can I put it on for you?”

“I guess.”

Jimin stares at Taehyung’s face as the latter puts on the button up. His jaw is tight, but his eyes are soft. Taehyung runs his hands up Jimin’s arms and gives his shoulders a soft squeeze.

“The shoulders are a little too long”, he says.

“I don’t mind”, Jimin answers him.

Taehyung nods his head in understanding and slips his hands under the shirt. You can watch how Jimin’s chest lifts in a deep gasp. A squirm follows as Taehyung brushes his thumb over the silver mark.

“I think”, Taehyung whispers, “I think you look beautiful.”

Jimin exhales shakily, biting down on his lower lip to stop it from trembling. Their eyes meet.

“I don’t think you should hide. It is a reminder that you survived”, Taehyung says, “in my eyes”, he adds, lifting his brows in unsure nervousness.

Jimin places his fingers around Taehyung’s wrists and nods his head.

“You’re a dreamer, Taetae”, he says, removing Taehyung’s hands and placing them on his own chest, “thank you for the shirt. I like it a lot. I’ll style it and come back”, he says and turns to disappear in the bathroom.

Taehyung wipes his balled fist over his eyes and turns to you.

“Hah”, he lets out, blinking the glassiness away, “forgive me”, he clears his throat.

“Are you okay?”

Taehyung nods his head, taking big steps to get to you.

“Come. Let us look at ourselves in the mirror.”

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

The clothes are perfect for you, fitting you as if they were made for you. Taehyung places his hands on your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder, looking at you in the reflection of the mirror.

“How do you feel?” he asks you.

“Really sexy. I like that it shows off my back and there”, you point at your exposed side, “I like this part a lot.”

Taehyung hums, turning his head to brush his lips over your neck in a kiss.

“I think you look like a goddess”, he whispers.

You sigh, placing your hands over his to give them a gentle squeeze. Taehyung lifts his gaze, giving you a playful smile.

“So you enjoy the clothes?” he asks.

“I love them”, you whisper, “Tae.”

“Yes, darling?”

“Your touch is nice.”

He smiles, “you are so beautiful. I won’t ever get enough of you”, he says, kissing your shoulder, “close your eyes, I have something else for you.”

“Okay.”

You wait for him with a fluttering heart.

Taehyung places something around your neck. It brushes your skin in a soft touch, making you gasp in reaction. It must be a necklace as Taehyung is closing something in the back, brushing his fingertips over your neck as gently as possible.

“Open your eyes”, he whispers.

It is a necklace. A golden heart locket on a delicate chain.

“Tae”, you gasp, touching it gently, “Tae, this is beautiful.”

“Open it”, he says, fingers resting on your waist and nervous eyes watching you.

You do as he told you. A strand of dark hair reveals itself to you.

“Is that?”

“It’s my hair”, Taehyung’s nervousness grows, “I want you to know that how I acted these past few weeks, it…it wasn’t who I wanted to be and I am ashamed of what I did and the awful things I said to you. I know it isn’t much, but I hope that this strand of hair can show you that you will always have a piece of me and that I love you”, he widens his eyes adorably, “most ardently.”

You close the locket to make sure the strand of hair will always stay safe. Then you turn, placing your hands at the back of his head. Taehyung’s eyes race between yours, his breathing is quickened.

“I love you too”, you say, playing with his hair slowly, “I know how much you had going on, so I know why you weren’t really yourself lately. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Do you really mean that?” he asks.

“Yes”, you cup his cheeks, “I’m so happy that you are finally starting to heal.”

Taehyung exhales shakily, shedding millions pounds of burden with this one single breath. He begins smiling, eyes sparkling in happy adoration.

“May I kiss you?” he asks.

You pull him close, answering him by kissing his lips with all the love in the world. Taehyung sighs, chasing you with his trembling hands resting on your lower back and his lips allowing you to guide him. He hasn’t felt such relief and happiness in ages. To kiss you, knowing that all was well in the world and most importantly between you and him, feels like paradise to his gradually healing heart. He is aware that you never judged him for the twisted ways his grief forced him to act and yet he will never find the words to tell you just how grateful he is for your forgiveness. He will never take your loving heart for granted, promising you with the sweetest kiss that from now on he will make sure to carry it in his hands safely.

You break the kiss too soon for his taste, making him sigh for one more.

“Please”, he breathes, cupping your cheek and brushing the tip of his nose against your cheek, “don’t stop.”

“Oh Tae”, you sigh, pulling him into the kiss he craves with all his heart. Taehyung thanks you with a sweet moan and his fingers tightening on your cheek in desperate gratitude. It feels good to kiss Taehyung now that his heart has been unburdened from grief. He kisses you back as if he wanted it to happen and not because he thought it necessary to do. You have no selfish intent behind that joy, instead you are happy knowing that Taehyung feels relieved enough to finally enjoy the sweeter things of life again.

The kiss breaks not because you wanted it to happen, neither because Taehyung wanted to stop, but because the door to the bathroom opened and Jimin entered the bedroom. You and Taehyung look at him, but stay close, hands still connected with the other’s body.

Jimin wears black pants to his shirt and has his hair styled out of his face. Dark eye makeup accentuates the intensity of his gaze and translucent lip gloss makes his plumb lips shine.

“Look at you. You look stunning, Jimin”, Taehyung gasps, scanning over his best friend’s body from head to toe.

“You really do. That corset fits you so well”, you say, nodding your head in agreement.

“I know”, Jimin answers you confidently.

Taehyung closes the distance between him and Jimin to study his face.

“Did you put make-up on?”

“Of course I did. I look good in it. What are you looking at? Do you want it too?”

Taehyung shakes his head, lifting his shoulders to his ears shyly.

“It wouldn’t fit me.”

“Oh come now, don’t be ridiculous”, Jimin says and pushes Taehyung on the bed.

His back hits the mattress, eliciting a surprised gasp from him. Within seconds, Jimin is straddling his lap, now pinning him down with nothing but a look.

“Stay still”, he orders.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung hushes.

“Your make-up.”

“But I don’t-”

Jimin pins him down.

“Stay still, Tae. Your face’s made for it.”

Taehyung tries to stay still, staring up at Jimin with big eyes until it is time for him to close them as Jimin dances his make-up brush over his lids skilfully.

It is truly the most peculiar scene to watch. They seem so familiar with the situation. As if such occurrences are normal in their friendship. And it is truly peculiar, because Jimin somehow seems to fit so well on Taehyung’s lap. Sitting on him in the perfect spots as if muscle memory made him choose the right place.

“Stop fluttering your lashes, Tae”, he speaks softly.

“But it tickles”, Taehyung answers him and his voice sounds different than when he talks to other people. You can’t describe it. It just does. It sounds a little higher, maybe more innocent. As if a boy was talking to someone he looks up to.

“I know. It’s because you are always moving your eyes. You have to stay still.”

“I can’t help it, you’re so rough.”

“I’m not, you crybaby.”

Taehyung opens his eyes, locking them with Jimin. You can watch how his hands, once resting on the mattress, find rest on Jimin’s thighs. Jimin, ever so roughly, grabs Taehyung’s chin to move his head from left to right as he inspects his work.

“You look handsome.”

“Did you use glitter?”

“Yeah of course I did. Like always.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll do the other eye now. So close them.”

Taehyung follows, parting his lips in relaxation while Jimin mixes and blends the most beautiful shades of gold and red on his lid.

So they did it before. Their dialogue was proof enough. This isn’t the first time they find themselves in such a situation. It makes you wonder just how far their friendship goes and how blurry those lines between them truly are. The more you get to watch them in the privacy of four walls and solitude, the blurrier they seem to you. Perhaps however this is what centuries of companionship does. Two souls connecting in unidentifiable ways, but with the only purpose to stay together because they were meant to do so.

Taehyung dances his hands up Jimin’s thighs then, letting them linger on his hips before touching his waist. Fabric lies between his fingers and Jimin’s torso and yet, they both squirm as if he touched naked skin.

“Ah crap”, Jimin curses, licking his pinkie finger so he can clean off the falsely placed eye shadow.

“It’s my lid again, isn’t it?” Taehyung asks.

“Mhm-hm yeah. I always forget it’s different than your left and mess up”, Jimin speaks slowly as his concentration is on getting the look right. He licks his pointer finger, using his spit to wipe off the last remainders of his mistake.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s difficult to get right.”

“Don’t apologise, you have the most perfect eyes.”

Taehyung opens them.

“Keep them closed. “

And closes them, gripping Jimin’s hips with slight desperation. Truly, it fascinates you. You feel so out of place here, so forbidden. As if you are an unknowing bystander stumbling into a scene which was never meant to be shared with anyone except Taehyung and Jimin.

Jimin paints again. He goes slow, keeping minimal distance between their faces to see better. Taehyung’s hands run down Jimin’s thighs again, changing course once he reaches his knees. They disappear from your view, but you know that they are travelling up Jimin’s inner thighs. It makes the latter move his hips back and forth before his left hand disappears between his legs. In a rough movement he has Taehyung’s hands pinned above his head.

“Don’t get greedy”, he rasps.

Taehyung mewls.

“I’m not done with your look. You’re such a whore.”

“I’m not a whore.”

“Sure you are, you’ve always been one and will always be one.”

Taehyung opens his eyes to send Jimin a look. You can’t distinguish if it is supposed to be angry or innocent.

“You’re a whore too.”

“I know”, Jimin smirks, “now close your eyes. I’m almost done, just have to do the eyeliner.”

Taehyung closes his eyes.

“Are you going to do a colour?”

“I was going to do black. But do you want me to do a colour?”

“Yes, do a colour.”

“I’ll do red then. Red suits you.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.”

“Red suits you too.”

“I know. You look better though.”

“No, you do.”

Jimin chuckles.

Taehyung chuckles too. He touches Jimin’s thighs again, keeping his hands still.

Jimin parts his lips then, giving view to the tip of his tongue as he gets lost in concentration. He doesn’t want to mess up, holding Taehyung’s face between his strong fingers just so the latter wouldn’t accidentally move it and mess up his artwork.

“I did the left one perfectly”, he says, “now I just have to do the right one the same way.”

“You can do it, you’ve always had a talent for it.”

“I know. Now, stay still Tae.”

“I am”, Taehyung breathes.

Jimin works diligently, finishing off the wing with a click of his tongue and a proud smirk. He sits up, putting his weight on Taehyung’s lap. Then he closes the eyeliner, throwing it on the mattress next to his eyeshadow palette.

“Stay still, I have to dry it”, he orders and leans in, puckering his lips so he could blow on Taehyung’s lids.

The latter parts his lips, touching Jimin’s hips and giving them an almost greedy squeeze.

You can hear how Jimin blows on him. The sound is confident in the room, almost drowning out the sounds of outside traffic and people getting drunk on the streets. Which was most impossible to imagine as those sounds were scientifically louder in nature, but still somehow that gentle sound of blowing filled up the entire room. It was weighed with intimacy. With familiarity. With moments so well known they became a routine. And because it carried so much with it, it managed to overpower the louder sounds from outside.

Jimin stops blowing, straightening up and shifting his weight back on Taehyung’s lap with a smooth roll of his hips. He places his hands on Taehyung’s chest then, distributing his weight between his lap and his torso. Then he arches his back just slightly, using the new position to stick out his ass.

“All done”, he says.

Taehyung flutters his eyes open, looking up at Jimin with his painted eyelids and his naked lips still parted. Jimin studies his face, rocking his body back and forth. It changes the point of where most of his weight was put on rhythmically.

“Actually”, he says, “I feel like you need something on your lips.”

Jimin disappears in the bathroom, but returns a second later with a bag of make-up. He sits down on Taehyung’s lap, choosing a higher-up position than last time.

You can watch how Taehyung parts his lips in a silent gasp and how his eyes seem to widen just slightly. You know exactly where he must have sat down. Oh truly, the lines are getting blurrier and blurrier.

Jimin seems unaffected however, rummaging around in his bag until he finds what he deems worthy. He pulls out a golden tube and places the black bag beside Taehyung’s head.

“What’s that?” Taehyung asks.

“Lipgloss. The one with golden shimmer in it”, Jimin says, grabbing Taehyung’s chin to keep his head steady.

“But I’ll just rub it off.”

“Then I’ll reapply it for you.”

“Jimin, it’s so much work.”

“No, it’s not. I’ll do it for you.”

Taehyung looks at Jimin.

“Trust me, you’ll look handsome in it.”

Taehyung seems to relax, keeping his lips in a position that would allow Jimin to apply the gloss. He finishes off by wiping away the spots where he messed up, wiping it into the sheets afterwards.

“Now you’re done.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, you look handsome. Do you want to see?”

Taehyung nods his head.

Jimin reaches for a hand mirror and lifts it to Taehyung’s face. Taehyung reaches for it, placing his hands over Jimin’s to keep the mirror steady. He moves his head left and right, fluttering his lashes and puckering his lips.

“And?”

“I like it.”

“Yeah? Do you think you’re handsome?”

“Yes, I look really handsome.”

“I know”, Jimin lowers the mirror and reaches out to give Taehyung’s left cheek a soft pinch, “you look really handsome.”

Taehyung giggles, lifting his shoulders to his ears. Jimin shows his teeth in a smile.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks.

“It’s nothing”, Taehyung covers his face with his hands.

“Hey, don’t”, Jimin warns, pinning his hands next to his head, “you’ll rub the make-up off.”

“I’m sorry”, Taehyung whispers, closing his fingers around Jimin’s hands.

Silence. Their eyes race between each other. They take a shaky breath. Their fingers squeeze each other.

“Taehyung, I”, Jimin begins in a whispers.

“Yes?” Taehyung breathes.

“I just…”

“Yes, Jimin?”

“I…I think we should go now before it gets too crowded.”

“Yes, I think that is a good idea.”

Jimin gets off Taehyung’s lap, shifting his gaze to you. His hand falls to the side of his neck, his eyes break away again.

“I’m getting a cab”, he says, hurrying out of the room in big steps.

Taehyung sits up, touching his chest. He smiles, squeezing his eyes shut and giggling quietly. He lifts his head when he feels your finger under his chin.

“You look so handsome”, you say, lighting up his eyes.

He stands up, holding your wrists gently.

“I’m happy”, he confesses.

“I’m happy too, my darling.”

“I'm really happy”, he says and you know the deeper meaning behind this sentence.

“Me too, my darling”, you say and smile.

Taehyung giggles, “oh, I can’t wait for tonight. We will have so much fun.”

“I think so as well”, you say, “should we check if Jimin managed to get a cab?”

“Yes, let us check.”

Jimin is already outside by a car, looking stressed.

“Hurry up”, he calls out and waves at you, holding open the door to the cab he managed to successfully call.

You and Taehyung increase your steps, holding hands as you cross the street.

“You were successful”, you say as you get into the cab.

“I was”, Jimin says, waiting for Taehyung to get inside as well before he does the same. He closes the door and after Taehyung tells the driver the name of the club, the cab drives off.

Taehyung claimed the middle seat, spreading his legs and throwing his arm over your shoulder.

“I am so excited for tonight”, he says, “this is the first time you are partying with us, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is.”

“Oh, you will love it. We are so much fun.”

“I can imagine. Did you guys go to parties in the past?”

Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look, cracking up at the same time.

“Too many times to count. We were mad back then”, Taehyung snickers, nudging Jimin with his knee, “he loved to get high.”

“I still do”, Jimin says nonchalantly.

“Yes? Are you hoping to get lucky tonight?”

“Maybe. Let’s see what the night brings.”

“Hobi told me that you can only really get high through blood drinking”, you say.

“Indeed. But worry not, Jimin is in perfect control.”

“Hah yeah”, Jimin says, touching the side of his neck, “control’s not a problem for me.”

“See? So don't bug your mind with it, darling”, Taehyung assures you, leaning in to kiss your cheek, “maybe I can get lucky as well, mhm?”

“Tae not here”, you whisper, flustering vigorously.

“Mhm”, Taehyung hums and chuckles, leaving one lasting kiss on your neck before he straightens up again.

“You guys blood share?” Jimin asks, eyeing you.

“We do. Oh Jimin, she tastes so good.”

“I know”, Jimin says and for just a second the silence is awkward between the three of you.

Taehyung is the one to break it, laughing loudly.

“I completely forgot that you tasted her before. Oh dear, thank the heavens that we escaped this situation.”

Jimin smiles lazily, “yeah, totally”, he says, glancing at you.

It is awkward at first, but in the end you both end up chuckling. The air feels light again.

“I partied with Fringella a few weeks ago”, Taehyung says.

“You did? That must have gone splendidly”, Jimin says, cocking his right eyebrow up.

“It went how you imagine it to go. I got way too high”, Taehyung says and laughs.

Jimin chuckles, caressing Taehyung’s neck.

“You're so reckless, Taetae. Fringella’s not good company to get high with.”

“Certainly?” Taehyung looks at Jimin with widened eyes, “it surprises me to hear such words from you.”

“Yeah, I think dying made me boring. I think Fringella’s orgies would piss me off these days.”

“No, I don’t think they would. You just aren’t used to them anymore.”

“No Taetae, they would”, Jimin insists, playing with Taehyung’s hair, “I don’t like you seeing with Fringella. She isn’t good for you.”

Taehyung blinks in confusion. It is obvious that he didn’t expect Jimin to be so caring.

“I don’t know what to say”, he confesses in a whisper.

“Don’t say anything. It’s fucking stupid either way”, Jimin says, turning away, “you should be with me, not with assholes.”

“Are you jealous?” Taehyung asks, leaning closer until he can hug Jimin’s waist. Like this, he is pressing his butt into the side of your thigh.

“You know I am”, Jimin doesn’t feel the need to hide away.

“No Jimin, don’t be. Fringella’s nothing but temporary fun. She always has been. You know that, don’t you?”

“I guess” Jimin murmurs.

“Good. Don’t forget that”, Taehyung says and straightens back up. He turns to you, taking your hand. He leads it to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. The gesture is sweet and makes you feel good.

The club is located a twenty minute drive from the apartment. The bouncer lets you inside right away after seeing Jimin.

“It has been ages hasn’t it?” he greets his old friend to which Jimin tells him that it has only been two years.

“Does he know you guys?”

“Yes, we spent countless nights in this club”, Taehyung tells you, keeping you close to him with a hand on your lower back. The touch feels nice because it lets you know that he was there even in this stuffy, busy club.

The club is dark inside except for the colourful neon lights illuminating the dance floor. Smoke from the smoke machines hangs heavy in the air, hiding the face of strangers from your view. You draw closer to Taehyung. He wraps his arm around you instantly, pressing you into him and making you feel so incredibly safe. It also feels really empowering to walk with him like that. People stare and they stare for a reason because Taehyung looks to die for. So knowing that you are the woman by his side feels incredible.

Jimin circles you so he is facing you and Taehyung. You step closer so you can hear him over the loud music.

“I’ll get the drinks. Any wishes?”

“I’ll take what Tae takes.”

“I’ll take what you take, Jimin”, Taehyung says to which Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Three Cosmos then”, he says and turns to disappear in the crowd.

“Come”, Taehyung says, taking your hands, “shall we dance?”

“Yes, I’d love to”, you tell him, allowing him to lead you to the middle of the dance floor.

It is crowded and hot on the floor, but you don’t mind. Taehyung pulls you into him, keeping a protective grip on your hips. His eyes are locked onto yours, keeping you willing hostage.

He knows how to dance immediately, moving your hips to the melody. There isn’t much melody. The deep bass and hard drums drown out any sense of melodic composition. But that doesn’t mean the music wasn’t art. It was. Addicting, body consuming art, forcing you to draw closer to Taehyung until you can almost merge with him.

He leans closer, his voice tickles you as he speaks.

“You look so beautiful”, he says, “I can’t stop looking at you.”

He straightens up, looking into your eyes deeply. His hands slip from your hips, gliding up your waist until they linger and squeeze. Right where you are the most sensitive. Your knees buckle because of it, your hips chase him.

Taehyung finally breaks eye contact to instead look at your lips. One. Two. Three seconds and he is pinning you down again. One. Two. Three seconds and he moves in. He presses his finger to your ear so he can talk normally and you can hear him perfectly. The gesture sends shivers down your spine.

“You have me bewitched”, he rasps, “we have been in this club for merely five minutes and I already want to rip these pesky little clothes off of you and bounce you on my cock.”

“Tae”, you gasp, moving back to gawk at him. This talk isn’t like him, leaving you dizzy.

Taehyung smirks lazily, taking your chin between two of his fingers. He brushes his thumb over your lips. Once. Twice. He pulls back and kisses the pad of his thumb, lowering his eyes playfully. He ignores the needy grip your fingers get on his shoulders, guiding his hands back to your waist with all the calm in the world.

“Beautiful”, he mouths the word as the music drowns out his voice. You twist his shirt at the front. The fabric feels rough on your skin. Taehyung stumbles closer, allowing you to pull his head down. He purrs when you hook your fingers behind his head and press your lips against his ear.

“You’re so mean. Why would you say that?”

Taehyung smirks, turning his head to speak in your stead. His lips tickle your ear, his voice is sultry.

“Why should I lie?” he asks, placing a feather light kiss on your neck afterwards. He growls playfully, “you smell so good, my sweetest”, he rasps.

You turn your head, making him shiver by running your fingers through his hair before twisting it and guiding his ear to your lips.

“I taste even better”, you coo, snickering when Taehyung lifts his head just to gawk in surprise.

He didn’t expect you to talk back. Good. You break away from him just to dance in front of him, throwing your arms over your head and swinging your hips to the melody. Taehyung chases you instantly, hips melted together and strong hands on your waist. He seeks your kiss, mouthing your name in a sigh. He’s got you charged. Aching for his lips. His taste. His hair tickles your fingers as you twist it again, your body chases him in rhythmic rolls.

Perhaps you never meant to go out tonight. Perhaps all you truly wanted to do was get pretty and chase each other in a dance of too much desire. Being here in this dark club with hot bodies surrounding you and the loud music making ever fibre in your body vibrate turns you on so fucking much.

Taehyung leans in, you flee with a tilt of your head. He purrs in desperation, squeezing your waist. He needs you. He needed you ever since he saw you in your clothes. Perhaps even earlier when you sat down on his lap and kissed his neck. He hasn’t carved you so ardently for months. His grief kept him hostage, made him want meaningless sex to drown out the pain and left him uninterested in the addicting pleasure your presence gives him. He didn’t want to soil it. The tension, the electricity, the feeling of being robbed of air. Only you can make him feel that way. And he didn’t want to taint it. It is way too precious to him.

And now he craves it. He feels starved of you. Your kiss, your touch, your taste. He needs you to feed him, fill his every vein with the essence of you.

Taehyung places his hand at the back of your neck, tilting your head up. There is no escape for you now. He has you caged and at his mercy. Taehyung claims your lips in a passionate kiss, forcing your knees to buckle. He moans into the kiss, feeling the needy whimper you let out against his lips. His veins fill with the essence of you, leaving him disorientated. Craving more. His right hand falls to your lower back, pressing you into him. You stumble, fingernails scratching down his neck as you claw for balance. He hasn’t kissed you like that in ages. You have already forgotten just how much passion he has for you. You don’t blame him for the distance he needed in the past few months, but you have to be honest with yourself and admit that you truly missed the manic desire he kissed you with in the past.

Mere minutes later and your panties are soaked in desperation, fingers twisting his hair painfully and lips feeling sensitive. Your lipsticks are smeared, covering your lower faces. Red gloss and dark lipstick. The combination is messy. Taehyung wipes it off your skin with his lips parted in a breathy moan and his half-lidded eyes making the hottest love to you.

“Sorry for making such a mess”, he rasps.

“I’m not”, you answer him, pulling him back into the kiss. Taehyung growls, parting his lips for your hungry tongue. He has a million scents in his nose and yet there is one which is as clear as day to him. Your desperation. You smell so fucking wet that Taehyung can taste it each time he gasps for air and it drives him insane.

He lifts his knee, your legs part for it instinctively. The kiss breaks as he pushes against your middle, your voice trembles in a gasped moan. You look up at him, surprised and droopy.

Taehyung curls his lips into a smirk, guiding your hips only for you to beat him to it and doing it all on your own. Smooth, needy rolls to the sound of the music. Your right hand slips from his hair, pressing against his crotch.

“Darling”, Taehyung gasps, stumbling for just a second. Your palm finds his cock instantly, rubbing his tip over the fabric of his pants. The pressure is intense, you are trying to make up for the thick leather dulling your touch. Taehyung feels weak because of it, licking into your mouth before actually kissing you. Tongue against tongue, needy sucks on them, pulsating lips and desperate movements.

You are getting off on each other, blind to anyone around you and hungry for one thing. The other’s pleasure.

The kiss breaks, Taehyung presses his lips against your neck.

“I should have fucked you before we left. I can’t think of anything else”, he rasps, moving his knee over your soaked pussy. He is tensing his muscles, sending electricity through your veins.

“Maybe you should have.”

Taehyung shows his fangs in a playful purr, lowering his eyes at you.

“You're tempting me”, he rasps.

“Tae”, you moan, moving your hips on his thigh in sync with your hand rubbing his clothed cock.

Taehyung moans and moves in to kiss you. Except that two glasses appear in your view before that can happen. The magic stops. You look to the side.

“Your drinks”, Jimin says, pushing the glasses against your chests, “do you guys seriously have to do that in the middle of the dance floor?”

You want to curse at him. How dare he ruin this moment for you. Taehyung breaks away, wanting to help you keep your modesty. Not that you acted very modest ten seconds ago.

“We were busy”, Taehyung says, accepting his drink and downing it quickly.

“I could see that.”

“Couldn’t you have waited?”

“And do what? Watch you while you masturbate each other like perverts? We’re here together, remember?”

Taehyung huffs out air in annoyance, glancing at you. Your skin is glowing in a healthy layer of sweat. He knows that it is only there because he got you worked up. You are clutching that glass with shaky fingers, gulping the liquid as if your life depended on it.

Jimin grabs Taehyung’s chin, turning his head to you.

“You’ve got messy”, he says, wetting his thumb to wipe away the messy lipstick. Taehyung feels wobbly because of it. You messed him up so much that such a simple touch by Jimin makes him weak. His skin is oversensitive. Every touch feels like fire.

He feels hands run up his torso and arms close around his waist from behind. There is an empty Cosmopolitan glass in one hand. He lowers himself so you can rest your chin on his shoulder.

“Pay attention to me”, you whisper against his neck, “I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Jimin says something you can’t hear because of the music, but Taehyung seems to understand him well.

“What did he say?” you ask him.

“That he can hear you.”

You lock eyes with Jimin. You expected annoyance, but there was something else too. Something primal and hungry. You break your eyes away, turning your head to kiss Taehyung’s neck.

“So what about it?”

Jimin talks again. Taehyung translates it for you.

“He says that he's not here to watch us have sex.”

“Then he should leave.”

Jimin lowers his eyes darkly. You snicker now that you pissed him off successfully.

“I’m getting another drink. Want something too?” you say.

“Another Cosmopolitan please”, Taehyung says, craning his neck in order to talk to you.

“Coming right up”, you say, leaving him needy and weak headed on the dance floor. You dance your way to the bar, dodging some grabby hands and ignoring too many lame pick up lines. Nobody can woo you as much as Taehyung. Oh, you can’t wait to return to him and continue where you left off.

There are four people in front of you. You don’t mind waiting, moving to the songs and watching the people. Taehyung is dancing with Jimin, having his eyes closed as he enjoys the music. He looks blissed out that way, moving his hips as if he was made to do so and resting his cheek on Jimin’s shoulder. The latter is looking at you, left hand on Taehyung’s hip while his right is hidden between their bodies. One second longer and you figure out why it moves the way it does and why Taehyung looks as blissed out as he does. You gulp, breaking your eyes away from Jimin and Taehyung. There are a few people making out around them. Actually, a few is an understatement. There are many people making out. There is one couple lost in more than a kiss. Right next to the DJ booth. You look away, back at the bar. Only two more people. Back to Jimin and Taehyung. Taehyung stopped moving, Jimin took over for him, lips on his neck moving in dirty whispers and dark eyes still glued to you. It is like he wants you to know what he does to Taehyung. As if he wants you to partake in it even with all the distance between you and them. There is another couple. Right next to you. They call your attention for a second. She is kissing his neck. Or maybe not. Oh dear. Oh no. Oh, she is definitely biting him. His neck and her lips are covered in the red essence of her bite. Judging by her desperate grip on his waist and his blissed out expression this is both consensual and an act of utter lust. You sneak a glance at Taehyung. He is dancing again doing so with his head thrown back and his lips parted in a gasp. You know that expression. Fuck. Jimin is goddamn cruel for taking that first high from you. You wanted to be the one giving it to Taehyung.

“Hello.”

You look to your left. A stranger. Blonde hair and blue eyes. A man. He is eyeing your cleavage then your neck. You scrunch your nose up in annoyed disgust.

“I’m here with someone”, you tell him coldly.

“Oh? You are? Well, that’s a shame, I had hoped that a beautiful lady such as yourself would be interested in a conversation.”

“I have to decline.”

“I understand really.”

And despite that he stays next to you. Looking. Staring. Your neck and cleavage. Your neck and cleavage. Your neck. Staring. A step closer. Your cleavage. A step closer. Your neck.

You move away. Closer to the bar, away from him.

Your neck. Your cleavage. Back to your neck. He licks his lips.

“I’m good friends with Yoongi”, you tell him and if he was part of the group you assume him to be part of, he will know to piss off now.

“Okay? Whoever that might be”, he dismisses you.

Well shit. He’s just a normal dude who can’t take a no.

“If you keep bothering me, you’ll find out. Trust me, you don’t want to.”

He laughs, lowering his eyes in what you assume to be flirty playfulness. You turn away from him, grinding your teeth. One more person then you can order and leave.

“I’m here alone”, the stranger says, leaning in so close that you can smell his breath. Alcohol.

You move away.

“I’m not. My boyfriend’s with me. He is really strong.”

“I bet he is. I’m strong too”, he says and flexes his arms. He does have muscles. Which makes you even more scared of him.

“I bet. It uh, yeah. I bet”, you stutter.

“Yeah right? It’s impressive. Do you want me to show you? I can lift you.”

You dodge his grabby hands by an inch.

“Please leave me alone. I’ll scream.”

“What? Here? But it’s loud in here, nobody will hear.”

“What?”

“What?” he asks nonchalantly and laughs, “I’m only joking. Don’t you worry, I won’t touch a lovely lady without consent.”

You laugh because you are scared that if you didn’t, he’d lash out.

It is your turn at the bar. You turn your back to the man, hoping that the attention of the bartender is enough to scare him off. You order, looking at the bartender the entire time and hoping that the creep gets the hint. Unluckily for you, the bartender has to turn away to prepare your drinks and all the other workers are too preoccupied with their orders to pay you any mind.

“A Cosmopolitan, yeah? You didn’t strike me as a Cosmopolitan kinda girl”, the man’s breath swirls over the back of your neck, forcing your hair to stand up in fright. “I like it.”

You try to stay silent, hoping that ignoring him will make him piss off.

It doesn’t. Oh it fucking doesn’t.

He places his hand on your lower back. Every inch of your soul dies at that moment. You feel both hot and cold. Numb and overstimulated in fear. Silenced. You can’t even squeak for help.

“Pretty lady, don’t ignore me. Do you not want to play-”, he doesn’t get to finish his sentence and instead yelps up in pain. And continues. Groaning and moaning and grunting in pain.

You turn in the right moment to witness Jimin stepping in front of you. He has a deathly grip on the man’s hand, twisting it into an unnatural position.

“Fucking piss off, you ugly fuck”, he growls.

The man whimpers, gawking at Jimin’s exposed vampire face in horror.

Jimin pushes the man’s broken hand away. The man flees instantly, clutching his hand and staring in shock.

Jimin stares him down until he is gone. And only then he turns.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks you, running his eyes over your body.

“No he, uhm. Oh my god”, you get out, almost collapsing on the floor as your knees give up in shock.

“Hey, careful”, Jimin catches you and lifts you atop a bar stool. He pulls his hands away instantly once you are safely sitting on it.

“Oh my god, did this really just happen?” you get out.

Jimin nods his head.

“Oh my god”, you whisper, closing your arms around yourself in a scared hug.

Jimin watches with his brows furrowing in anger. He tilts your head up with one finger under your chin. The touch is barely there.

“He’s gone now.”

“What if he comes back?”

“He won’t. Trust me.”

“Oh god”, you press out.

Jimin tightens his jaw.

“Should we take fresh air for a bit?” he offers.

“Yes please.”

“Come on, hold my waist”, he says, lifting his arms until you hug his middle tightly. He places his arm around you, keeping you close. He makes sure that nobody bumps into you by pushing the people around you away, using quite a lot of his true strength for it. They complain but Jimin could care rather little about them.

There is a small park outside just opposite of the club. Truly it is nothing more than two benches, a patch of grass and one tree under which a seesaw is standing. The benches are occupied, but that doesn’t stop Jimin from walking up to one of them.

“Bugger off, it’s our spot”, he hisses at the two drunk guys who were lost in conversation before.

They both stand up, towering over Jimin by a head.

“You wanna say that again?” one of them challenges.

“Fuck off. You’re at our spot”, Jimin hisses and pushes him so strongly he leaps through the air only to fall on the ground a good ten feet from you.

“Bro, what the fuck?” his friend gasps, “take the bench. The fuck’s your problem? Hey Mike, are you okay man?”

The two guys run away, never to be seen again. Jimin sits down with you, keeping his arm on the backrest behind you.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Shaken up, but I guess that I expected it. Fucking sad, isn’t it? That I have to expect shit like that when going literally anywhere.”

Jimin furrows his brows in anger.

“Thank you seriously. It’s so scary to be a woman sometimes.”

“Don’t mention it. I get it.”

“No it’s true. I gave him signs multiple times and he kept trying.”

“Yeah, those people are wrong in the head. They ignore cues for their selfish pursuit.”

You nod your head, balling your hands to fists.

“Sometimes I wish that people like that die painfully”, you confess in a whisper.

Jimin studies your side profile. He didn’t expect such a confession from you.

“Fuck, sorry. Why did I say that? Of course I don’t wish death on people”, you correct yourself, lowering your eyes, “sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it”, he assures you.

You let out a trembling breath, sagging your shoulders.

“Hey. Don’t worry, he’s not gonna come back”, Jimin says.

You sneak a glance at him, feeling your eyes drift behind him. You gulp. Jimin turns around. The creep from before is standing at the edge of the park, staring at you. His shirt is wrapped around his broken hand. He clearly hadn’t seen you, which would explain why he turns and then runs the other way.

“Fucking asshole”, Jimin mumbles under his breath, “stay here. I’ll be back”, he says and disappears.

“What?”

You are all alone again. Taehyung is busy dancing in the club and Jimin is gone. It all happened so fast. The harassment, Jimin breaking the criminal’s hand and him disappearing. Did this really just happen?

“Hey.”

You flinch, eyes flitting to your side.

Jimin is back.

“Where were you?”

“Just somewhere”, he says, sitting down next to you. He leans back, stretching his legs out. Then he lets his head fall back, pressing out a breathy “fuck.” His chest heaves up and down in heavy pants.

“Jimin, your mouth”, you gasp, staring at the deep red stain on the left corner of his lips.

“What?” he touches it, “oh that. Don’t mind it”, he dismisses you, wiping it away.

“Was that blood? What did you do? Who did you bite?”

“He had it coming.”

“He?”

Jimin runs his eyes up and down your body.

“What?” he hisses, “he was a fucking sexual predator. Do you think that I’ll let scum like him live? You said so yourself that people like that should die painfully.”

“You-”, you gulp, “what did you do?”

“He won’t be able to hurt anyone from now on. I made sure of that.”

“Jimin, oh my god.”

“Fuck, you’re such a prude cunt. I did it for you, just saying”, he spits and tries to get up to leave.

“Hey”, you grab his hand, pulling him back to you.

He falls back on the bench, looking at you with slight annoyance in his eyes.

“Thank you”, you say.

Jimin’s gaze brushes over your lips before he looks away. He slips down on the bench until he can rest his head on the edge of the backrest, folding his hands in front of his tummy.

“Don’t mention it”, he says nonchalantly.

You slip down as well, mirroring his position. He sneaks a glance at you to check but soon returns to looking at the sky. The tree is unmoving except for the occasional faint breeze of air making the uppermost branches shake. The music of the club is quiet in your ears, filling the air with slight vibrations. The night is peaceful.

“Should we go back to Tae?” you ask into the silence.

“No, he’s busy. Trust me.”

“Busy?”

“Yeah. Cleaning up.”

“I saw.”

Jimin smirks victoriously.

“Good.”

You don’t know how to answer that and so you stay silent, staring at the sky. So you were right. Jimin stole that very first high from him.

“Shouldn’t we still check up on him?”

“Let’s just sit here for a moment.”

“Okay.”

“Fuck”, Jimin presses out, throwing his arm over his eyes, “fucking hell.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, something’s up.”

“The creep took something. It’s tripping me out.”

“What? Are you okay? Do you need help?” you gasp, straightening up.

“Relax”, Jimin pushes you back down with his hot hand on your tummy, “I like it. Just what I wanted.”

“Oh okay”, you relax, “uhm, that’s good then.”

“Yeah, it’s good”, Jimin says, retreating his hand. He leaves behind a cold shiver. His touch was so hot in contact and now it’s gone. The chilly night air feels so real on your skin. You place your hand on the spot he touched in hopes of cancelling it out. It works partially.

“Fuck”, Jimin presses out, “do you think Tae’s hooking up with strangers?”

“That’s so random. Why would you think that?”

“Cause he always does that. Whenever we go out, he makes out with strangers. Why’s he always with other people?”

You sneak a glance at him. He has his eyes closed but looks upset.

“I thought we’re here together. Why’s he such a fucking whore?” he says.

“But I thought that you guys are both really chill about sex with others.”

“No.”

“I see. But you guys aren’t really a couple, are you?”

“Does it matter?” he hisses.

“No, I guess it doesn’t”, you tilt your head to the side, “shouldn’t we go inside? What if he’s looking for us? I don’t think that he wants to meet strangers tonight. You’re just paranoid and are imagining things. You literally just made him cum. What more proof do you need?”

“No. I don’t want to check.”

You study his face, “are you scared that you’re right and he’s making out with someone? Is that why you don’t wanna leave here?”

“Does it matter?” Jimin hisses, avoiding eye contact which lets you know that it is exactly like that.

“I guess not. I don’t know.”

Jimin nods his head and takes a deep breath. You lean back on the bench. Sitting here for a few more moments does feel nice. The air was really stuffy in the club, so the fresh night air feels like a treat. You are positive that Jimin was wrong about Taehyung and that once you go inside again, you will find him dancing alone.

“Stupid shitshow”, Jimin murmurs, sitting up with an exhausted sigh. He tangles his hands between his spread legs, resting his elbows on his knees, “and you? Do you like it when he does it?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I think as long as he doesn’t make me feel as if I’m replaceable, I don’t mind. Besides, I’m with Yoongi and Kook as well. I’m the same.”

“I guess”, Jimin glances at you, “seriously, how the fuck did you and Yoongi happen? I thought you hated each other.”

“We did. For a while. Then it kind of clicked.”

“It clicked? Really? With Yoongi? How?”

“Why not? He’s so easy to fall in love with.”

Jimin snorts, “is he really?”

You sit up.

“Yes he is. Stop being a cunt. Yoongi means a lot to me and he is so loveable. Don’t talk bad about him”, you warn, making yourself bigger.

Jimin chuckles in amusement.

“I’m not saying anything”, he lifts his hands in defeat.

“Tch”, you let out and click your tongue.

Jimin studies your face with a victorious grin. It earns him a look from you. He chuckles lazily, letting himself fall back against the bench. He put his hands behind his head, looking up at the sky.

“It’s good”, he says.

“The drugs?”

“No. That you and Yoongi are a thing now.”

“Really?” you scoff, “don’t tell me that you’re happy for me.”

“Course not, I couldn’t care less about you.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m happy because that means that you’re not always stuck to Tae”, Jimin glances at you, “you piss me off when you are.”

You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue, “you’re so jealous, it’s unbelievable.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“No of course not. Not you”, sarcasm drips from your voice. You scoot closer to Jimin, nudging his knee, “loose up a little. Tae’s not gonna leave you and he’s also not making out with strangers right now. You’re just a paranoid, jealous idiot.”

Jimin tenses his jaw.

You shrug your shoulders, “I’m telling the truth. Take it or leave it.”

“Hah”, he scoffs, looking away, “you’re so annoying.”

“Thanks. You’re annoying too.”

He chuckles, glancing at you with friendly eyes. You give him a little grin.

Jimin gets to his feet then, stretching his arms above his head. He whispers a curse.

“I’m so high”, he says and laughs. Then he struts to the seesaw. There is a guy sitting on it. You watch Jimin pick him up by his clothes like a mother cat would its litter, except that Jimin then proceeds to throw the man a good ten feet to the side. The man stumbles to his feet and runs away in horror. Jimin plops down on the now empty seat nonchalantly, locking eyes with you and cracking you up with it. Jimin stares for only a few seconds and then your drunk giggles crack him up as well, eyes turning into crescent moons from how deeply he laughs.

You get up and hurry to him, claiming the other side. You are still laughing. Jimin does too.

“I can’t believe you just threw this man”, you snicker.

“He had it coming”, Jimin says in a chuckle and moves the seesaw.

You squeak, clutching the handle tightly.

“Warn me, oh my god”, you gasp, making Jimin laugh.

“I thought you were ready.”

“Well, I wasn’t”, you say in a laugh, having to squeak out a giggle when the movement of Jimin’s side hitting the ground makes you bounce.

Jimin pushes himself off again. Your side hits the ground. He bounces and laughs, almost falling off if he hadn’t closed his legs tightly.

And so it happens that you are rocking on a seesaw with him, laughing like children and having way too much fun for your own good. Time feels nicely spend. You genuinely enjoy his company. You really do. Jimin seems to reciprocate the feelings, throwing his head back in laughter each time he bounces in the air. You have never seen him like that before. Carefree and happy. Maybe it’s the drugs. You don’t really want to look for the reason however. He is so much more likable when he is like that.

Your play soon comes to a stop however when Jimin loses balance and falls off when he is the highest.

“Jimin! Oh god, are you okay?!” you gasp, tumbling off the seesaw as well.

He groans, rolling onto his back.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

“Fuck, that was fucking hilarious”, he says, cackling loudly.

His laughter is enough to assure you that everything was okay and so you laugh as well, rolling onto your back.

Jimin turns his head, locking eyes with you. His smile fades out, making you do the same because it felt like the right thing to do. Silence. The air feels heavy, but not uncomfortable. Jimin props himself up and crawls to you, letting himself plop down once you are close enough that your faces are just shoulder-length wide apart.

“That was fun”, he says in a whisper.

“Yeah it was”, you agree, looking everywhere but his lips. You can’t accept the truth behind that look. You won’t.

Jimin can.

“I’m glad that we ran into each other”, he confesses.

“What?” you breathe.

Jimin needs a second to process what he just said, widening his eyes once he does. He turns his head away, letting out a breathy laugh.

“I’m so high”, he says, throwing his arm over his eyes, “fuck.”

You look away, focusing on the tree above your heads with obsessed precision. He is trying to find stupid excuses for his slip of words. Holy fuck.

“I think that I should go back”, you say, sitting up.

Jimin lets you, staring at you with a flustered expression.

“Yeah”, he says.

You stand up, patting your butt clean from the bark mulch.

“Are you, uhm, gonna stay here?”

“I guess.”

“Okay. See you later.”

“Yeah.”

You turn and run back to the club. This can’t be happening. Nope. You are not feeling attracted to Park Jimin. Nope this is not happening.

The air in the club reeks of alcohol and sweaty bodies. You try to look for Taehyung, but can’t find him. He is lost in the crowd. You swerve to the toilets, feeling the strong urge to be alone.

Thankfully all of the three stalls are empty. You hide away in the first one, locking the door. You close the toilet seat to sit down on it afterwards. Your face falls into your hands. What is genuinely in the air tonight? You can’t be attracted to Jimin. Not him. Everyone but him.

It must be alcohol, the situation, the location. Not him. It must have been everything else. Yes. Everything else. The night is filled with tension and it would have happened with anyone you met.

You lift your head from your hands, knowing deep down that you just lied to yourself, but you don’t want to dwell on that thought for too long. It was just the tension in the air, not because Jimin is messing with your head. Yes. It was just the air. Nothing else.

“I have to find Tae”, you decide, “he’ll help me come to my senses. Yes, that’s what I have to do.”

And with that silly excuse of a plan you decide to leave the stall.

“Ah!” you yelp, stumbling back when someone is right in front of it, waiting for you. “Jimin, oh my god you just scared the living shit out of me.”

He is standing right in front of your stall, staring at you with dark eyes.

“Good thing we’re in a toilet then”, he says, making you laugh.

He doesn’t laugh. He just stares.

You push yourself past him to wash your hands.

“What are you doing here? You’re aware that that’s the lady’s room, aren’t you?”

Jimin watches you with piercing eyes. You dry your hands, turning to him when he doesn’t say anything.

“What are you doing? Did you just come here to stare?” you ask him.

Jimin moves in so close that you have to crane your neck to look at him.

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

Jimin moves in just enough that his nose brushes over your skin and his lips are almost touching yours. You feel lightheaded, gawking at him with widened eyes. And yet you can’t pull away, something keeps you locked on him.

“Push me away”, whispers in a rasp.

“What?”

“Push me away”, he repeats, eyes flitting to your lips.

You know what he wants to say with that. Push me away and I won’t do it. Push me away and this never happened.

You can’t move away, eyes finally flitting to his lips.

The truth has been spoken and Jimin knows what to do. He cups your face and pulls you into a kiss, making your knees buckle because of it.

You break it with your hands pushing at his chest.

Jimin pulls you closer again, chasing your lips. But you move away, hands cupping his face just so you can tilt his head up. Your heart is racing like crazy.

“I don’t know if we can do that” you lie.

“Oh come on. Stop pretending as if you’re not feeling it as well.”

“Feeling what?”

Jimin pulls you into the kiss, pushing at you gently to get you to move.

Your knees buckle, you claw at his shirt, stumble back until your back hits the door. Somewhere far away you hear him lock it. His knee claims the emptiness between your legs to press right against your barely clothed pussy. You break the kiss just so you could gasp.

“This”, he rasps, “you smell so fucking needy”, Jimin growls, chasing you with his puffy lips parted and his eyes glued to your mouth. He grips your hips with one hand, guiding them over his muscular thigh. He doesn’t miss one beat, making your hips dance to the music outside.

“O-oh god”, you stutter.

He kisses you as an answer, fingers twisting a bundle of your hair at the nape of your neck and tongue chasing the taste of your kiss. He fucking loves the way you taste – he has done so ever since he drank you blood in the practice room – he loves it so much, sucking on your lips with gluttony in his movements.

You writhe, gripping his corseted waist to pull him closer. You blame the booze and the setting. You shouldn’t be so sickeningly attracted to Jimin and yet at this moment, you are. Everything about him. The way he is dressed tonight, the way he moved on the dance floor and laughed with you outside. How he couldn’t stop letting his eyes run over your body when he touched Taehyung and how you couldn’t stop looking at him. Jimin is right. You’re so fucking into him right now.

You grab him and force him to turn. The kiss breaks as Jimin lets out a throaty chuckle, back colliding with the door and head tilting back to reveal his thick neck to your eyes. His black hair is ruffled, hanging into his face in messy strands. His makeup is smudged from the intense kiss.

“Fuck, you’re hot”, he rasps.

“Shut up”, you spit, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Jimin moans, forcing your pussy back onto his thigh. His foot is propped up on the door, his thigh muscles are tensing in this position, feeling hard and rough against your pussy. The friction is maddeningly good, keeping you wanting more and more. You try not to think about it for too long. No thoughts. Not one thought. Just sensations. Messy hands, sloppy kisses, sculpted thighs, hungry moans. No thoughts, just sensations. If you start thinking, you will realise what the fuck you are doing right now and then it will start haunting you.

Jimin pushes himself off the door and picks you up from the floor just to bounce you in his arms twice. You wrap your legs around his middle, twisting his hair. The friction against your pussy feels so fucking good. You are messing up his clothes with your pleasure because of it. Wet and slick. Hot and sticky. So fucking sweet, Jimin thinks as he smells it, so goddamn fucking sweet. His hands slip under your shirt, forcing the material to punch up until it exposes your lower back fully. The kiss doesn’t break, on the contrary, Jimin tangles his tongue with you, moaning with his whole chest as he stumbles to the sink.

“Ah, what”, you gasp, squirming when he sits you down on the wet, cold surface.

“Say it”, he rasps, tugging you against his torso. Your pussy grinds against his corset like this. The leather feels sticky against your pants.

“Say what?”

“Say that you don’t want this.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m gonna fuck you against this sink until you’re sobbing.”

You moan without wanting to, fingers hooking in his belt to open the clasp. Jimin understands, hooking his finger in it to rip it off his body. The ruined piece of leather gets dropped on the floor.

“That was Tae’s belt.”

“I’ll buy him a new one”, Jimin dismisses you, hooking his fingers in your pants, “one last chance.”

“Do it. Less talking.”

Jimin undresses you hastily. Your pants are around your ankles. He hooks his fingers in your panties and rips the fabric easily, putting the ruined panties into his pants pocket.

“For Tae”, he says and smirks when this makes you squirm, “I bet he’d rub one off to it.”

“You are both insane.”

“Thank you”, he rasps and takes his cock out, pulling you closer by the small of your back. Once he is happy with how close you are, he grabs the nape of your neck, forcing you to keep up eye contact as he begins rubbing his cock against your clit. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The friction is better than anything.

“Fuck”, you let out, chasing him with a roll of your hips. He feels so cold against your burning skin, making you crave more just so you can warm him up.

Jimin growls and kisses you, tongue chasing you instantly. He is really fucking into this. You’ve been messing with him for too long. Jimin thinks that it started way back when hadn’t died yet. Till this day he sometimes thinks about the kiss you shared in the alleyway as you were chased by granny vampire. He knows that you only did so as a cover up, but Jimin still can’t stop thinking about it. Just as he can’t stop thinking about the way you touched his mark that night. Your touch lingers on his skin even long after you stopped feeling him up. Maybe it’s because you are the prey he could never truly have, but Jimin can’t take it anymore. He has to have you.

He pushes inside, breaking the kiss.

“Fuck”, he hisses, shivering upon being engulfed by your hot cunt. You’re better than he imagined you to be. Wet, hot, soft, tight. No wonder Taehyung can’t get enough of you. Your cunt’s like heaven. Jimin chases the sensation with a confident thrust of his hips, forcing more of him inside your soaked pussy.

You mewl, squirming against him.

“Too much?” he asks.

“N-no”, you croak, “fuck”, you gasp, arching your back eventhough your pride is hating you for it.

“Shit”, he lets his saliva drip from his lips, “I want you”, he growls darkly and tugs your shirt and bra to the side just to cup your right breast and lean down to suck gluttonous hickeys on the flesh.

“Fuck, Jimin”, you gasp, arching into his touch with too much vigour.

Jimin growls. He is not gentle. He sucks hard and bites even harder. His grip is strong, punishing even. All while his cock is making your pussy wet and throb around it. He begins chasing the feeling, hips slamming into you to the hard beat of the music.

“I fucking want you”, Jimin growls, “you should be mine. Since the beginning. You should have been fucking mine.”

He curses and bruises your skin as he sucks on your tits.

“Ah!” you squeak, meeting him with desperate squirms. This isn’t intelligent fucking. This is raw, stupid fucking between two people who know that once the thinking starts, it will feel wrong and therefore the fucks needs to be hard and fast. No thinking, just fucking. Desperate, greedy fucking.

You twist his hair, scratch down the back of his neck, arch into him. Your pussy is making the wettest sound mixing with Jimin’s excessive slurping and the slap of his skin connecting with yours.

“Fucking mine. You were mine. All mine”, his voice is dripping in gluttony, his hips are punishing. Almost as if they wanted to punish you for choosing Taehyung over him all those months ago.

And he does. Right now, with your pussy creaming his cock and your skin bruising for him, Jimin wants to punish you. You were supposed to be their food. Their newest prey. And what did you turn into? Taehyung’s lover and Jimin’s biggest rival for his heart. And now he has you where he wants you to. Alone, weak and turned complacent by cock. Jimin finally got you. The prey he could never have. And he is fucking gluttonous for you.

Jimin moans, releasing your pulsating nipple. It is so fucking sensitive that you spill tears now that it is aching in the cold air each time he abandons it in sake for the other. You whimper when he bites down especially hard, scratching down the back of his neck because nothing else could help.

The pain of it forces Jimin to break away. He lets the saliva break and looks at you with eyes dark and half lidded. Black veins are spanning down his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, thrusts becoming harder now that he has you pulsating around him, “feel good?”

“Y-yeah”, you stutter, squeezing your eyes shut as you grasp the edge of the sink. You are getting fucked on a sink and with your clothes ripped to shreds. Holy fucking fuck, this is actually happening.

“Of course you do, I fuck like a fucking king”, he growls and wraps his hand around your throat.

“Ah!” you gasp, throwing your head back, “oh god.”

His eyes lower darkly as he watches the pleasure wash over your face. His fingers tighten on your throat, cutting off your blood and making you gasp for air.

Your head pounds, breathing is really fucking hard. Panic. It gets you off to panic. You hate that it does. You squeak and gawk at him, hitting his chest as you fight for air.

“Why are you so hot?” he spits, chasing you with harsh thrusts, “what’s fucking wrong with you?” he growls, deepening his grip, “you’re not supposed to be so fucking hot, you fucking- urgh fuck, why do you keep occupying my mind? Huh?”

He punishes you with a harsh thrust, forcing your back to hit the mirror. He tilts your head back, making you squeak for air.

“Why do I want you so fucking bad?”

“Jimin”, you croak, hitting him harder.

“What do you want?”

“Air.”

“Air?” he laughs maniacally, “why should I give you air? I should fucking kill you for messing with me.”

“Please”, you squeak.

“Fuck, you’re weak”, Jimin spits, releasing your neck.

You gasp loudly, arching your back as life returns to you. Holy fucking shit, you feel high.

“That's it, keep fighting. You’re so annoying, no matter what I try you'll always come back won’t you?” Jimin growls and grabs you just to sink you back down on his cock, pulling you into a rough kiss as he does. You can’t help but moan into his mouth, tightening your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You fuck yourself on his cock, meeting his movements sloppily and desperately.

He grunts, bottoming out over and over and over again as he shows you just how good he can fuck. In and out, in and out, in and out. He makes sure to show your pussy who makes her fucking weep right now.

The kiss breaks just enough for him to speak. “That’s it. Pull me closer like the greedy, little slut you are”, his words make you spiral, the kiss which follows steals your breath.

You have to give it to him. This is a lot more enjoyable than you thought sex with him to be. He is so much deeper than you thought he would be, using the melodies of outside to bounce you even better on his thick cock. His pubic bone rubs against your clit with every bounce whilst his once busy fingers grip your hips, making your toes curl.

“Jimin”, you whimper against his lips, voice pitched.

He raises his head, locking his eyes with you.

“Yes ___?” he rasps, voice heavy in arousal.

“F-feels good”, you say, despite the embarrassment you are feeling in an instant. Look at you. You are getting fucked by Park fucking Jimin, trembling on a sink in a public bathroom.

“Yeah? Tell me how good my cock makes you feel”, he growls, angling his hips differently. He soaks up the way your face scrunches up in pleasure. “Tell me”, he orders, repeating what he had done before, “tell me how good that feels. Tell me. Fucking tell me.”

You still don’t completely like Jimin. Mostly because he is a self-obsessed dick. Yeah he is Taehyung’s best friend and he did redeem himself by dying or whatever, but you can’t particularly stand him. This right now however? Feels otherworldly. It is rough, angry and with enough danger that it gets you off. Exactly how you fucking like it.

“Good”, you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulders, “so good. Oh god.”

“I knew it”, he smirks, “I fucking knew it. Such a slut, you’re such a slut”, he growls and moans, burying his face in the crook of your neck just so he can kiss you sloppily.

You wail loudly, clawing at his back as your pussy feels in paradise. His neck kisses are so rough, bordering painful to the point where you feel dizzy. Oh so dizzy. So fucking dizzy. Holy shit, you can’t breathe. Oh god you you’re so dizzy.

Jimin thrusts his thick cock against your sensitive spot and sucks on your neck.

“Jimi-”, you squeak out and cum.

Hot. Rough. Aggressive. Forced.

Jimin forces the hardest, most insane orgasm out of your trembling body, fucking into your pulsating cunt with angry, harsh thrusts.

You hate that you are wailing and moaning and sobbing for him, but you can’t help it. He is so fast and strong, letting his powers control him, and that type of fuck feels so fucking good.

Jimin growls against your neck, sucking harder and hungrier the more you scream and orgasm.

You think that you are doing it a second time. You can’t tell as the first one never really died down and only got stronger. You blame the hot feeling of his cum shooting up your pussy for it. He fucks it out of you just as he is fucking it right back into you, moaning against your neck and slamming his fist into the mirror right beside your head just so he doesn’t break you. It shatters on impact, leaving deep imprints on Jimin’s ivory skin.

He pulls his hands out of the shards, gripping you by the side of your neck just to tilt your head back. Fuck, his knuckles hurt. It’s better than hurting you though. Jimin thinks it is. He hates that he does, but it’s true. He cares for you enough that he doesn’t want to actually hurt you. Look at him. Goddamn fucking hell. He is cumming because of you. Fucking hell.

“Fuck”, he presses out, panting heavily. His hips slow down, staying snug against you so your pussy was still filled with his cock. He is rocking into you slowly, riding out your highs in lazy gluttony. He could go again. He could bury himself into you over and over again until you are drained. His body demands it. Every fiber aches for more.

Jimin grunts and fights for air, gripping the edge of the sink as he forces his hips to stay calm. His instincts want to kick in. Jimin inhales deeply, shuddering. He tells them to calm down, to stop being a fucking Glutton for once.

You feel so fucking dizzy and lightheaded, holding onto bundles of his hair as your only support. Breathing is difficult for you, your neck hurts from his kisses. You are also pretty sure that you can feel your pulse in your pussy.

Jimin tilts his head, pressing the flat of his tongue against your cheek. You are so tired that you let it happen. He flicks it and purrs deeply.

“You fucking cried”, he rasps, “they taste so good”, he adds and connects his lips with your cheek, kissing it softly.

The gesture leaves you confused and flustered.

Jimin lifts his head, eyes flitting to your neck.

“I”, he blinks as if he was surprised, fingers touching his lips, “I didn’t”, he whispers.

“What?” you ask, touching your neck, “ah? Ouch, it hurts. What did you do?”

You push him away, pulling your shirt back into place and turning to look into the shattered mirror.

“You bit me!”

“I didn’t mean to”, he says, shaking his head, “it’s because you turned me on, I didn’t mean to”, he says, cupping your cheeks, “I didn’t mean to, seriously.”

“Why would you bite me? Oh my god, it’s bleeding so much”, you say, pressing your hand to your neck as tightly as possible.

“I didn’t mean to. Your neck was so close and you smelled so good a-and my, my fangs brushed it. It was an accident”, he insists, “hey stop. Stop wiggling.”

“It hurts.”

“Here uhm, here”, he keeps you hostage by pressing his body between your legs, forcing your head to turn back to him with two fingers under your chin. He bites his own wrist and offers it to you, “drink.”

“What? No, why should I drink your blood?” you say, shaking your head vigorously.

“You’re bleeding.”

“So? I don’t want to drink your blood.”

“Do it, you don’t want Tae to worry, do you?” He pushes his wrist closer to your lips, “drink.”

“No, fuck off.”

“Drink please. I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna bite you."

“Put your wrist away, I don’t want to drink your blood.”

“Drink.”

“No. You’re a Glutton.”

“So? Then don’t die. Easy”, Jimin says and lifts his wrist, “drink.”

“No.”

“I will rip that ring off your finger and force you if you don’t follow. Drink.”

“Why are you like this? I told you no, didn’t I?”

“Drink!” he growls and then presses his wrist against your lips

“Mmgm”, you let out in surprise, widening your eyes when that familiar burn of blood is scraping down your throat. You wiggle and squirm, but Jimin keeps you on him until your wound is healed. Then he pulls you off of him with his hand in your hair.

You cough, holding your throat because it burns like crazy.

“Better”, he says and presses you closer to the sink, “now stay”, he says and turns the water on and with the help of his hand in your hair, cleans off your neck.

“Why did you do that?” you choke out.

“Tae can’t know about this. Do you hear me? It, it never happened”, he stutters as he washes your neck roughly.

“Ah Jimin. Stop being so rough.”

“Stay still. I’ve got to clean you up.”

“We could have thought of something. Why did you force me?”

“What could we have done? This was the only way”, he insists, avoiding eye contact.

“You are so fucking awful sometimes. I’m telling Tae, I’m serious. What if I die? He needs to know.”

“Don’t tell him, I didn’t mean to bite you”, he says, tugging your pants back up.

“So? He still needs to know. I’m in danger now”, you say, letting out a little whimper.

Jimin stares at you in shock. He gawks, fingers on your pants stilling.

“It was an accident, I already said that I’m sorry. Don’t tell him”, he says in a shaky voice, avoiding eye contact. He tugs you closer to the wall, keeping you sitting on the sink with his hips against yours. He dries off your skin with some paper towels, holding you by the back of your head to stop you from wiggling away. He dries your tears as well, avoiding your eye contact at all cost.

“Why not? He needs to know. You just- oh my fucking god, I have your blood in my system. Oh my god, Jimin why did you have to do that?”

“Don’t tell him, please.”

“No. You hurt me.”

“Fine. Then tell him”, he interrupts you, stepping so close you can smell his blood soaked breath swirl over your face, “go on tell him that I drank your blood without permission. Tell him and see what this does” he hisses, sending you a dark look, “you think he’d still want me here? No. I’d have to leave and you’d be the reason why his heart is broken again. You will be the reason why he loses his best friend again. All because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. So go on, tell him.”

You feel your stomach twist in disgust. Of course he would resort to blackmail at some point. Why did you think that someone like him could change? You look away, not bearing to see him any second longer. Maybe if you would have, you would have noticed the immense guilt and regret washing over his face and staying there with the intention of lingering for the rest of the night.

Jimin clicks his tongue and places his jacket around your shoulders and then steps back, “let’s leave. I’m sure Tae’s already wondering where we went off to.”

He intertwines his fingers with yours and tugs you outside. The air is stuffy, the hallways are dark, you collide with too many people until finally the dance floor with its flashing lights and bright smoke is revealing itself to your eyes. You barely take in any of it, getting dragged down further and further into the horrifying panic you are feeling.

You have Glutton blood inside of you. And you can’t even tell your love because it would break his heart. You are so scared. Feel so guilty. You can barely handle the burn in your stomach.

That is where you meet Taehyung. He is standing by the bar, looking worried until he meets your eyes and the worry gets replaced by relief. With a big grin on his lips, he makes his way to you, welcoming you back by grabbing your hips and pulling you snug against his hips.

“Where were you?” he calls over the loud music, “I was worried about you. I looked everywhere for you.”

“I,I”, you stutter, feeling sick to the stomach. Should you tell him? Should you be honest? Should you tell him that you were just bitten by Jimin in the bathroom only to get his cursed blood in your system? Taehyung looks at you with such sparkly eyes that your silence makes you feel sick.

He moves closer and furrows his brows.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

“Taehyung I just-”

“She was with me”, Jimin throws in, draping his arm over your shoulder so roughly you know that this is his warning to stay quiet. He even slams his chest into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. To Taehyung it looks like drunk stumbling however.

“With you?” Taehyung lifts his brows. He studies Jimin’s face, then yours and Jimin’s jacket on your shoulders, “oh dear”, he seems to realise. A big smile washes over his face. “Finally”, he says and giggles excitedly, “oh, I was hoping that the two of you would fuck”, he says and massages your hips tightly, “darling, we need to have a threesome very soon. I promise you, we are such fun.”

You are so overwhelmed. By everything. The secret. The fact that Jimin just bit you. The fact that you could turn into a Glutton in the next three days. The surprise that Taehyung wanted you and Jimin to fuck. And that he is asking for a threesome as if he practically waited for the day you would cave in. And you don’t blame him, because he didn’t fuck up, you did.

He pulls you closer, holding you with his big hands on your back. His lips are on your neck instantly, nibbling and sucking on the spots where mere seconds ago Jimin had bit you. The deep moan rumbling in his chest lets you know that Taehyung suspects nothing.

“You smell so sweet”, he rasps, “darling, a good fuck always makes you smell so good”, he lulls and purrs. His hands dance down to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze, “is that right? Did Jimin fuck you good? Mhm?”

“I, I can’t breathe”, you choke out.

“What’s the matter?”

You push yourself away and then stumble to the exit. You have to get out of here. You are being eaten up alive by your emotions. You can’t breathe. Your eyes burn. Air. Please someone give you air. Please help.

You collide with someone outside. You can’t see them, stumbling past them without acknowledging their presence.

“Darling!” you hear Taehyung’s voice somewhere far away.

Holy shit, what have you done? Why did you drink Jimin’s blood? You could be a Glutton soon. You could actually turn into a Glutton. You just gave the curse roots in your body.

You collide with the ground and then it happens. With a painful convulse, your stomach empties itself. You are retching and gagging, feeling oh so incredibly awful. The blood makes it burn unbearably and yet you can’t stop. It’s spilling out of you, giving you no control over it.

“Darling”, Taehyung kneels down next to you. He places his hand on your back, patting it softly to make it easier for you, “oh darling. Did you drink too much?”

You gag again, convulsing oh so painfully. It burns. Throwing up blood burns just as much as it does when you swallow it. Maybe it burns even more as throwing up hurts on normal days already. It really hurts so much. You cry. It hurts so much.

“Oh no, this must be awful. It’s okay darling, let it all out. I’m here now.”

“Tae”, you sob, wheezing for air, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise darling. It happens to the best of us”, he assures you oh so sweetly, caressing the back of your head, “just don’t fight it. You will feel better afterwards.”

The gagging stops. There is physically nothing inside of you anymore which your body could get rid of. But the tears continue. They stream down your face heavy and hot, ruining your makeup.

You stare at what you had just done. The darkness of the night hides its true colour. It must be black. Black as the blood which is still rooted into your veins.

“Fuck”, you croak, “holy fuck. Taehyung I have to-”

“Here”, Jimin interrupts you, “drink this.”

You turn your head. He forces a bottle of water into your hand. His eyes are dark in warning.

“Yes darling, drink it”, Taehyung says, opening the bottle for you, “drink, it’ll do you good.”

“Yes ___, drink”, Jimin presses out through gritted teeth, lifting his brows in a way that lets you know that right now he is telling you to swallow down whatever you wanted to say and drink that stupid water instead.

You whimper, spilling tears which hardly affect him. Or so you think. The moment you look away, the guilt returns to Jimin’s features.

“Come now, drink”, Taehyung speaks to you in a soft voice, soothing over your hair.

You turn to him. There is no darkness on his face. Just worry.

In an instant, he reaches out to dry your tears, giving you a reassuring smile.

With shaking fingers you lift the bottle to your lips and begin drinking. The water is cold. As if it was fresh out of the fridge. Jimin must have purchased it in the club. It would be a sweet gesture, if you didn’t know better. He didn’t do this because he was worried and wanted you to feel better. This is part of his plan to make it look as if you were too drunk.

You feel drunk. You know that you aren’t because you didn’t drink a lot tonight. You still feel drunk however. Dizzy, far away and not like yourself. You are aware that this is the panic and guilt playing your body like it’s a game. It’s the worst feeling have you ever experienced.

“Tae, I want to go home”, you press out.

“Of course”, he says and picks you up gently, “come now, relax against me sweetest. I’ve got you.”

He takes two steps with you in his arms when he turns and looks at Jimin.

“Jimin, aren’t you coming?” he asks.

Jimin looks at you, grinds his teeth then looks at Taehyung.

“Sure, I’m already coming”, he grumbles, jogging to catch up with you.

You don’t see the guilty look he sends you, as you are hiding away in Taehyung’s shoulder, soaking his shirt with your guilty tears.

What have you done?

You aren’t alone when you enter the apartment. The lights are turned on and the television is blasting sounds.

Seokjin is still awake, relaxing with a random movie and a glass of blood. He turns his head even before you could announce yourself. He watches as Taehyung sets you down.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Seokjin is on his feet and by the door instantly.

You stumble while your eyes are out of focus and your arms seem to tangle weakly.

“Holy shit, ___. What happened? You look awful.”

“Seokjin I-”

“Nothing happened. She’s just drunk, a total lightweight. She threw up all over the streets”, Jimin says and picks you up after you stumbled again, “I’ve got you”, he says and hurries upstairs. He whispers into your ear when you are far enough away, “stay quiet. Hear me?”

Seokjin and Taehyung follow you, appearing by Jimin’s side. Jimin lifts his head again, sneaking a suspicious glance at Taehyung.

“Are you sure that she’s alright? She looks like death.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong”, Taehyung says, soothing you by rubbing your back, “maybe someone drugged her drink? I didn’t see.”

Nobody drugged you. At least not like humans drug other humans. Jimin did. Jimin drugged you with his blood and now one wrong step and you could turn into a Glutton. You aren’t clear in the head because anxiety is quite literally making you feel disorientated.

“Take her to my room. Right here”, Taehyung tells Jimin, opening his bedroom door.

“Don’t worry my darling, it’s really not far anymore”, Taehyung says with unbearable worry in his voice.

“Shouldn’t we take her to a hospital? What if it is serious?” Seokjin asks.

“I thought that I could give her some of my blood if it gets worse.”

He misses the way Jimin looks to the side because of it.

“Tzt”, Seokjin seems displeased, but won’t dwell on it right now for the sake of you.

But no hospital could help you. No amount of Taehyung’s blood could help you. Your veins were filled with a cursed secret and you were slipping further and further away from reality.

Seokjin is talking to you. Taehyung says something as well.

You can’t hear them. Well, you hear them but they are far, far away from you. As if you were underwater sinking further and further down into darkness.

Hands are on your body. Someone is talking to you.

You feel hardness hit your back. Maybe this it's the ocean floor.

Fire. Stinging, unbearable fire. It rains down on you and makes you gasp for air. It burns. It is so hot. It is so loud. Rushing in your ears.

You can’t stop shivering. Your muscles ache from tensing. Your teeth are sensitive from clattering.

The fire stops, leaving behind wet skin.

“I’m sorry”, Taehyung’s voice is clear in your ears again.

You peel your eyes open, blink in disorientation.

You are in the bathtub, propped up against the wall.

You lift your head. His face is in your vision, pulled into a grimace of utter worry. His shirt and pants are soaked as he is kneeling in front of you with the shower head in his hand

“Are you feeling alright? I’m sorry for doing this to you. I had to get you back to me”, he says.

You look around the room. It’s just the two of you.

“I sent the others away. I had to get you out of your clothes. They were full of sick”, Taehyung brushes his wet thumb over your cheekbones, “did Jimin hurt you?”

“Tae”, you press out and sob. The dam breaks. Like the water once raining down on you, all it took for you to break was his safe presence.

“He did, didn’t he? Did he force himself onto you?”

You shake your head.

“So what else? Oh my darling, what did he do to you?”

You are hurting oh so much. You want to tell him what happened, but you can’t. You physically can’t bring yourself to speak the words. You would break Taehyung’s heart. That’s what Jimin said. The truth would hurt him and it would be your fault. Solely imagining such a future forces your chest to tighten in anxiety and guilt and for your tears to feel unending.

“N-nothing”, you choke out, shaking your head.

You don’t want to break his heart. You don’t want to lie. Please someone take this burden from you.

“It’s, all too much. It’s too much.”

“Hush, it’s okay. You’re back home now, nothing will hurt you here”, he whispers and picks you up.

He sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and wraps a warm, dry towel around your body.

His arms engulf you, pressing you against his strong chest. You are still shivering, but at least your muscles ache less.

“You can tell me anything, I promise you that I won’t be angry at you”, Taehyung whispers, kissing the crown of your head repeatedly.

“Tae, I have to-”

“I’ve got some water”, Jimin interrupts you, entering the room right as you were about to confess the secret.

Oh you want to cry. Why is he always interrupting you? You sob louder, hiding away in Taehyung with your trembling fingers barely managing to hold him.

“Put it on my nightstand”, Taehyung’s voice is cold, “did you hurt her? I swear to god if you did something she didn’t consent to, I will make sure you truly die”, he snarls at Jimin.

“I didn’t”, Jimin stumbles back, “I swear. I hate nothing more than sexual predators. You know that. I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I sure hope you didn’t or else you can go back to where you came from.”

Jimin closes his mouth, looking at you with panicky eyes.

“I, I didn’t”, he whispers, shaking his head vigorously.

So Jimin was right. Telling Taehyung would ruin their friendship and break his heart. Oh no, Jimin was right. He was right. You can’t tell him. You sob. Why is this happening to you?

“Leave us alone”, Taehyung hisses at Jimin.

“But I can help.”

“No. You’re making it worse. Leave.”

Jimin glances at you. “Fuck”, he presses out and leaves with his stomach twisted in nervousness.

The door closes.

Taehyung turns back to you, squatting down in front of you.

“I’m here, my sweetest”, Taehyung is speaking to you again, soft and full of love, “wrap your arms around me and let’s get you into some clothes”, he speaks softly, picking you up with ease to carry you outside.

He sets you down on the armchair and squats down before you, keeping his hands on your thigh to make sure your mind stays with him.

“I will take off your towel, is that alright?”

You nod your head wordlessly, sobbing into your hands.

Taehyung takes off your towel so he could pat you dry.

So now you are before him naked and with a sickening secret on your tongue. Never before have you felt more uncomfortable with being bared in front of him. Like this, it feels as if he could see right through your lies.

Your cheeks burn as new tears spill out of you. Taehyung wipes them away, just as he dries your body carefully. Your legs and feet first, then your torso and arms. And lastly your face. He works carefully around your nose and ears, doing his best not to tug on them in any way.

“There we go, you’re all dry now. Come now, wrap your arms around my neck.”

You obey. Taehyung lifts you to carry you to bed.

The door opens just as he manages to pull the blanket over your body.

Seokjin seems to be back, he has Yoongi and Hoseok following him. Jimin sneaks into the room as well, hovering behind them like a nervous shadow.

“What the hell happened?” Yoongi sounds angry in worry.

“Why would you bring him?” you hear Taehyung ask. He sounds scared.

“Because he knows what to do”, Seokjin seems to answer him and then their conversation dies out in your ears.

Yoongi is calling your attention. He is by your side in the blink of an eye, holding your hand, “she’s ice cold. What did you do to her?”

“Nothing, I didn’t do anything”, Taehyung says, voice sounding distorted in guilt, “she was fine until suddenly she couldn’t breathe anymore and seconds later she threw up. I didn’t do anything.”

“Tch”, Yoongi sends Taehyung a dark look then turns to you. He cups your face, runs his thumb over your cheekbone, “princess.”

Your eyes, once restless in anxiety, focus on his face.

“Yoongi”, you press out, “Yoongi, please don’t let me die.”

The plead was heavy in your desperation. It was urgent. Oh so urgent. Please don’t let me die and come back a Glutton. Please don’t let me turn into this.

“Hey, of course not”, he doesn’t know of the grandiosity however, “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Promise me Yoongi, please.”

“I promise you”, Yoongi says and squeezes your hand, “I promise you with all my heart.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know, I can smell it. But don’t be. You are drunk, very drunk so it seems. I can smell the booze, it’s so strong”, you don’t miss the icy glance he sends at Taehyung, “and that state feels awful, but you’ll feel normal again come tomorrow. I promise.”

“Can I? Can I really be Normal?”

“Yes princess. You can be normal, I promise. It’ll pass, I promise.”

“Yoongi please hold me”, you beg, crying heavy tears.

“Come here”, he says, picking you up from bed to cradle you against his chest. He makes sure that you are wrapped in the blanket to cover your bared body from the looks of others, but also to keep you warm. You are shaking like crazy in his arms and you are ice cold.

“Thank you”, you press out and cry into the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay. I’m right here”, Yoongi whispers, turning to leave.

Taehyung steps in front of him. Yoongi stops and scowls.

“Where are you taking her?” Taehyung asks.

“My room, I’m not leaving her with you.”

“But I can take care of her too.”

“No you can’t. You couldn’t even stop her from getting so fucking drunk. You’re a great boyfriend aren’t you? Do you even know how reckless this was? What if she fell and hurt herself or stumbled into a random vampire’s arms and he bit her?”

“Don’t put this on me. I truly monitored how much she was drinking because I didn’t want her to go through something like that. I don’t know what happened, you have to believe me”, Taehyung defends himself.

Yoongi clicks his tongue and bounces you in his arms to fix his grip, “at least you brought her home safely. I’m taking over now.”

“Do you truly trust me that little?”

“I’m taking over now”, Yoongi hisses through gritted teeth, flashing Taehyung his real eyes.

Taehyung stumbles back and closes his mouth, knowing that it was time for him to shut up.

“Okay”, he gets out, “fine. Take over. Fuck”, he hisses then turns to you, touching your back, “I’m so sorry darling, I really didn’t want you to get that drunk.”

“I know.”

“Oh darling”, he says and pouts, “I feel terrible. I’m so sorry that I didn’t take better care of you.” He places his chin on your shoulder even if that makes Yoongi frown and almost move you away from him. “I’m truly so regretful”, he confesses and lowers his forehead to your shoulder, “it won’t happen again, I promise”, he whispers.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault”, you say, speaking the truth. It wasn’t his fault.

He inhales you deeply and shudders.

“Oh darling”, he whispers, “Yoongi is right. The alcohol is overshadowing everything. I can’t smell anything other than alcohol. I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay”, you tell him quietly.

“You should sleep. It’s the best remedy against too much alcohol”, Taehyung says and makes sure you are tugged in safely, “Yoongi is going to stay with you and I’ll be just next door. Nothing can hurt you anymore.”

Yoongi looks at Taehyung one last time. He is so angry, but doesn’t let it show for your sake. He knew that entrusting your wellbeing with him would be a mistake. He never should have trusted him that much.

“Tch”, he turns his head away and leaves, followed by Seokjin and Hoseok. He makes sure to bump his shoulder with Jimin on the way out with such vigour that the latter stumbles back with a pained groan.

The door falls closed and Taehyung is all alone with Jimin. He turns, touching the side of his neck.

“Fuck”, he presses out, “what happened, Jimin?”

“I, I don’t- listen, Tae, listen I don’t know what happened. Serious.”

Hoseok and Seokjin follow you to Yoongi’s room, watching you shiver in his arms with worry in their chests. Yoongi places you down on his bed, making sure the blanket still covers you and then steps back to get some clothes.

You reach for him when his hand slips from yours but you feel too exhausted to truly hold him close. So Yoongi steps back and makes space for Hoseok and Seokjin.

Seokjin places a glass of water by your bedside table.

“You should drink this, it will lessen the hangover tomorrow”, he says.

Hoseok places a rubbish bin next to the bed.

“I learned this trick during my college days. If you need to throw up, just do so in the bin. Works wonders, it really does”, he says and then nudges your shoulder, “hang in there ___, don’t forget to stick out one leg to ground yourself. You’re our strongest soldier tonight, I salute you”, he says and does a big salute, looking oh so adorable doing it.

You give them each a weak smile and watch how they retreat back to Yoongi. They are talking quietly, but you can still hear them.

“She seems to be really drunk”, Hoseok says, “I couldn’t smell drugs on her, just booze.”

“Yeah neither could I. She reeks of booze though, it overshadows everything else”, Yoongi says and looks at you, “fucking Tae and his cunt best friend, I never should have let her go out with them.”

“I’m sure that she appreciates that you are not acting like a controlling boyfriend though”, Seokjin says.

“Yeah, totally. Controlling partners are a huge ick”, Hoseok agrees, “she’s a grown woman and very capable of deciding if she wants to go somewhere or not.”

“Mhm, I know”, Yoongi nods his head, “now leave, I have everything under control.”

“Yeah”, they both nod their heads then send you a reassuring smile.

“Sleep tight, ___”, Seokjin says.

“Yeah and don’t forget to put your leg out of the blanket if you’re too dizzy”, Hoseok says.

You nod your head. They leave seconds later, abandoning you with Yoongi.

You close your eyes and exhale shakily. You feel so defeated. A part of you had hoped that Yoongi would be able to smell that something was off. That something about you carried a burdening scent to you and that he would expose Jimin’s secret that way. If he had, then you wouldn’t have to carry around such a big secret. But Yoongi couldn’t smell anything, because of all the stupid alcohol you consumed tonight. And so you are still left with the terrible secret gnawing at your insides.

You didn’t even realise that you were crying again until you feel Yoongi wipe them away with his healing, always safe touch.

“Don’t cry my princess, I’m here now. You’re safe”, he whispers and with it, calms you down. He calms you down because having him close again reminded you that for as long as you have Yoongi by your side, nothing will hurt you. You won’t die in the next three days because Yoongi will be there to prevent it. Jimin’s curse will leave your body again and you will be able to live on.

You peel your eyes open, realising that he is kneeling by your side. His face is mere inches away. Looking into his eyes feels like coming home.

“Yoongi”, you croak, seeking refuge by cupping his cheek weakly, “please don’t leave me.”

“Of course I won’t leave you. The fuck you talking about, you drunk baby?” he says and kisses your palm, “I could never leave you. Now come, sit up. I’ll give you one of my shirts.”

“The really comfy one, please.”

“Of course”, he smiles sweetly, moving closer so he could nudge your cheek with his nose, “only the comfiest clothes for my princess”, he whispers, making you giggle because it feels good to be his princess.

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thecapricunt1616 · 10 months ago

Text

Blue Lotus - SxC Fic - Chapter 2

♡ Summary: Carmy & Syd go horseback riding!!! Carmy's therapy friends push him to go for what he wants, his 'light at the end of the tunnel'

♡ W/C: 6,534

♡ Posted Date: 04/07/2024

♡ A/N: Hayoooo!!! I am too inspired... this has become a multi-chap fic hahaha I am havin' so much fun here!! Thank you @gingergofastboatsmojito for inspiring me to keep going!!! ILY! As per usual please know - this fic was inspired by THIS FIC here - Tucson by the GLORIOUS GINGER!!!! Go read that before you even THINK about reading this fic ok?! I love how I hate storer for the same reasons but im a sucker for writing a slowburn - I find myself screaming at MYSELF internally "make them kiss already!!!!" but they will KISSSS SHORTLY SO SHORTLY MY DEARSSSS !!! It will be a JUICY TAYLOR SWIFT DAYLIGHT ASS KISS OK!!!! THEY WILL ONLY SEE EACHOTHER FROM THEN ON!!!! Its gonna be a 'and I can still see it all in my mind all of you all of me intertwined I USED TO THINK LOVE WOULD BE BLACK AND WHITE BUT ITS GOLDENNNNNNN. We need Carmy to realize a few more things but then - he will be hozier level devoted to this woman even more then he already is, I hope you enjoy!!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Not really any? Like? LOL - Swearing?! Smoking cigarettes?! They just went horseback riding & carmy went to therapy- oh Ig talks of carmy getting hard LMAO but thats as crazy as we get this chapter. ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

Stardust nudges his shoulder so hard he almost falls over, and he turns to look at her. His heart jumped into his throat, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. She was there, she was really there.

“Uh-” he blinked a few times, to be sure that she wouldn’t disappear. “Syd? Hey..uh-” he felt his entire body buzzing with excitement. He couldn’t help the smile that took over his features. She looked… gorgeous. Carmen wasn’t sure there actually was a word in any human language ever to exist that could describe just how wonderful she looked.

Her hair was in its natural state, she was wearing an adorable corduroy jacket, black jeans, and white sneakers. “You came to a farm…in those?” he motions to her shoes.

She laughs a bit “Wow- it’s great to see you too, Carm. Didn’t realize you were…actually like living on a farm” she approached him carefully.

“Shit- yes- fuck- It’s its so good to see you, Syd, C’mere” he pulls her into a tight, long hug. The smell of her lavender vanilla perfume nearly made him melt.

“You’re like…tan- and…muscley now” She laughs a bit, squeezing his arm lightly.

“Uh..” he pulled away, cheeks bright red. “Yeah uh.. It's like- fuckin hard t’ride a horse. And the um…” he rubbed his neck nervously “The uh cows.. They eat hay? Most the time, and so we need to move the bales during the morning for em, they’re like…. 75? 80 pounds? So moving like 10 back and forth every day helps. And I dont really.. Go inside? Here? Its like… uh.. Thats the therapy mostly, the animals- at least f’me” he said sheepishly.

She nodded, looking around the stable. “That one behind you is yours? Shes been side-eying me creepily since I started talking” she pointed to Stardust.

“Oh! Fuck sorry yea, well- no…not- not mine- I got ‘er t’trust me. But uh, yeah this is Stardust. She’s a super sweet girl” He explained. Stardust leaned in, sniffing Syds hair carefully.

“Cute- All you’re missing is a hat” She teased.

He chuckled a bit, “Ok, c’mon - why are you here, Syd” He said with a small smile, crossing his arms over his chest.

She shrugged, looking at the ground and kicking a rock out of the way with her shoe. “Cause…I was worried- I dunno…” She definitely wasn't going to get bold and tell him that she’d missed him, terribly.

“Ok…well now that y’here, and y’see i’m okay…wanna have some fun?” He asked, a small smile on his lips.

Syd looked back up at him, as if he had 3 heads. “Okay- Where is Carmen Berzatto- Not his… Weird alien clone- Camren Brazota” she said, laughing a bit “what do you mean fun?” She asked, and Carmy laughed, real, and genuine.

“Well- If I didn’t change my view a little I’d never leave. So, yes, Syd, ‘a little fun never hurt noone’ - per my therapist. Shes fuckin annoying. I much prefer the horses.” He pet Star’s mane and she leaned into his touch.

“Holy shit” Syd laughed a bit. “Wow- alright. I feel like you’re a whole new man already, what kind of fun?” she mused.

“Ever ridden a horse?” he walked over to the saddle rack, pulling off a double seated one and hanging it over the back of the stall door.

“No- Actually, Don’t I need um…like - stuff for it?” she asked.

“Oh don’t think I wont give you the full experience” he opened the riding closet, “Whats your shoe size?” he asked, crouching down and looking through the pairs of extras.

“8? Er- 9 probably 9” she said. He dug through them until he found a matching pair.

“These should do, y’stuff is cool here we can just leave it in her stall” he told her, holding out his arm for her to hold while she switched her shoes.

“You seem like…” she said as she slipped off her sneaker and put on the boot. “I dunno…chill- well- i wont go that far- but chill-er then before.” Carm snorted a laugh, holding on to her arm to steady her.

“Thanks? I guess..that’s good right?” He asked.

“Yeah! Yeah of course…I mean, it’s nice. To see you not so…anxious.” She said, slipping the other boot on.

“Yeah I um…” he cleared his throat, opening the stall door. “I uh..I’m takin meds- Now? Uh..all this shit. Y’know they have me like tranquilized more then these guys” he said and she laughs, Carmen smiled proudly at the fact, relishing in the wonderful sound.

“But yeah like Like 3 er..er 4. they say I had all this uh..mental shit. Goin’ on w’me and that’s why I was all…wound up I guess” he explained, calling Star out and getting her harness situated.

Syd caught herself staring at his arms as he worked, how the toned muscle moved beneath the fabric of the shirt.

“Aren’t you freezing?” She asked, noticing he wasn’t wearing a jacket like she was.

“Used to it now, well- I mean the moving around. It gets hot this shit is heavy. Wanna try to hold the saddle?” He asked, unhooking the saddle from the stall door where he’d left it momentarily.

“It can’t be that bad” she countered.

“I think this thing weighs probably as much as you do.” He said “hold out your arms” he smiled a bit.

She lifted her arms out in front of her and he plops the saddle down, she had to plant one of her feet forward so she didn’t fall face first due to the sudden weight and he laughed, catching the saddle quickly and baring most the weight.

“Told you” he teased.

She rolled her eyes “yeah whatever. Saddle up the horse, cowboy” she dropped the saddle back in his arms. He hurled the saddle over Stars back with a grunt.

“Fuckin hell” he huffed, realizing since the saddle was nearly double the weight as his usual, and being on the shorter end- he couldn’t just get it on her when she was standing straight. “Bow” he told the horse and she just stared at Sydney.

“Don’t embarrass me, Star. Bow” he told her and she looked the other way.

“So uhhh…this one’s trained, huh?” Sydney teased.

Carmen looked back at her “mmhmm maybe she doesn’t like strangers” he said, walking over to the other side.

“Since she’s bein difficult y’gonna have T’help. C’mere” he waved her over and she followed. “So when I push it up, just grab the saddle pad and make sure it doesn’t move, yea?” He asked.

“The fuck is a saddle pad, dude- I know my way around a kitchen not a fuckin horse stable.” She looked at the many different layers the horse was already wearing.

“Alright. So this,” he lifted the cloth, “is her blanket. Keeps her core warm. And beneath it” he pats the pad “this is her saddle pad, it makes it more comfortable. So our bones aren’t like..diggin in her back and shit. Also shock, when she jumps the foam of it helps our weight disperse. The saddle is so big and heavy I can’t keep the pad still at the same time, so just hold it f’me,” he took her hand, guiding it to where he wanted her to hold.

She felt her heartbeat quicken, his hands were so large and calloused on top of her own. She nodded wordlessly, keeping her eyes trained on where she was meant to be holding and focusing on keeping it steady as he went back around and carefully lifted up the heavy saddle with a grunt, laying it over the horses back.

“Jesus- how much can this thing carry” Syd asked.

“Well she is a mare, she weighs about…mmm- 1900? She can comfortably hold about 400 pounds for a decent distance but she can’t do that for hours and hours at a time. We together can’t be more then 300, and her gear is less then 100 pounds. Were just goin f’r a quick ride, I gotta get to therapy at 3” he explained as he buckled on her saddle.

“Ah. So you’ve been memorizing horse information instead of creating recipes? I figured when I got here you’d have gone nuts by now without being in a kitchen so long” she gently touched the horses mane as she spoke.

“Maybe. Well…I am kinda goin crazy? But I can’t…let it out?” He chuckled a bit “does that make sense? Nights are a little hard before my sleep meds kick in but that just says I haven’t done enough that day” he got up. “So y’gettin up first since I’m sittin in back” he explained.

“Oh…uh- ok how do I?” She asked looking up at the at least 7 foot tall animal.

“Y’not gonna be able to do it alone. C’mere” he told her. She comes over and looks at him.

“How the fuck do you do this?” She looked up at the saddle that was at the top of her head before looking back at him.

“So-“ he snorts a laugh at her wide confused expression. “She’s not gonna like you trying to roll up on her back, and I don’t want you t’get thrown off, she can be moody with new people. I almost broke my shoulder my first time trying to ride her” he said and she crossed her arms slightly.

“So how. How do I get up there?” She asked. He pulled out a step stool, setting it next to the horse and getting up on the third step.

“I’m giving you a lift. Arms up” he said with a playful smirk.

“No- no way- Carmen that’s too high. You’ll drop me!!” She took a step back, feeling slightly nervous.

“I won’t because I’ll bribe her Syd. C’mere” he pulled a pack of peep marshmallows out of his pocket and the horse nearly starts dancing.

“Carm- what the fuck is happening?” She asked and Carmy chuckled.

“Bow. Cmon Syd wants t’ride. Bow and you’ll get y’treat star.” He told the horse.

It obediently bowed down and before Syd could process what was happening, Carm was scooping her up beneath her arms Syd squealed in surprise. “Oh my GOD WHY ARE YOU PICKING ME UP!” She shrieked, wiggling in his arms.

“open y’legs! Cmon! she’s gonna get up!!!” Carmen laughed holding her up higher. Syd finally obeyed and he gently plopped her on the first saddle. “Good girl” he told the horse, feeding her the marshmallow and putting the packet in his pocket again before swiftly getting on behind Syd.

“Alright. Hard part done.” He reached around her waist, and she lifted her arms slightly.

“What- can you tell me what’s going on? I’m a horse virgin!” She said, and they both went quiet for a moment, before cracking up laughing. Syd leaned to her left slightly as she tried catching her breath, grabbing the rein for stability and tugging.

Star took off sprinting, Syd screamed in surprise, her body going tight with fear. Carmen quickly wrapped his arms around Syds waist protectively, tugging on the reigns “WOOOOAH!” He called to Star and she quickly came to a stop.

“Stand.” He told the horse firmly.

“What the fuck Carm I thought she was trained!” Syd exclaimed, gripping onto his forearms for dear life.

“I gotchu, you think I’d let her kick you off?” He tightened his arms around her. Carmen swore his heart was thumping so hard that she felt it on her shoulder blade.

“Also when she moves it’s hard to keep still.” She said nervously.

“Don’t worry, I gotchu, Syd. Lean into me, if our weight is centered then it’ll be easier for all 3 of us” he gently pushed at her stomach.

She leaned back into his broad chest, “see” he said softly. He was lucky the angle didn’t allow for her to see him, because his face was bright red, And having her body pressed against his…was making him flush somewhere else too.

He clicked his tongue and Stardust started walking again, at an easy comfortable trot. “This…is ok.” She said, much more comfortable now.

“I’m gonna take you t’one of my favorite spots.” He said, pulling on the reins to the left lightly so she would follow the left trail.

“Wow, already sharing secret spots huh? I think this therapist may just be Doctor of the year I don’t even think I’ve seen your favorite Chicago spots” she teased.

Carm laughed a bit, he felt so much lighter with Syd around. And life had been lighter ever since he got here.

“How is…uh- how is it back home?” He cleared his throat lightly. It was something that had being weighing on him. Yes, he was here, he was doing the thing. He was making Sugar happy. He was making Syd happy…but he would go back, at some point.

And his biggest fear was things will just go right back. He won’t have this outlet, he won’t have sunset rides with Stardust to ease his mind. He won’t have the cows happily running up to him and greeting him when he was the first one to bring out a bale of hay. He felt like if he was here, he may have the confidence to tell Syd how he feels. But back home? It was another life.

“Fine..things are..y’know. The usual shit. But nothing bad, no one’s getting locked in any freezers if that’s what you mean” she said playfully.

Carm rolled his eyes with a light smile. “Mmhmm. So the restaurant is-“

“Is fine.” She said. “I’d have told you. You know that.” She said and he nodded a bit.

“I know she scared you back there…but it’s pretty fun to go fast. You wanna try?” He asked.

She shifted a bit uncomfortably, her hands tightening around his arms that were holding the reins around her waist. “Uhh…maybe? Are you sure we won’t fall off?” She questioned.

“I’m sure. Here you can be the one to control it. Start light ok? With your legs.” He gently ran his hands down her thighs to right below her knees “here” he said softly, squeezing the flesh gently so she wouldn’t have to lean and look. “With that part of your legs, give her a little squeeze. But really light, or we’ll take out of here like a bat out of hell” he held around her waist again, securely holding the reins.

“Mmhmm” she said, she was beginning to feel hot- and not because she’d done any hard work in regards to getting the horse ready.

“Alright. Whenever you’re ready, you’re the boss” he said the last part softly in her ear. If it wasn’t for her jacket, he would see the goosebumps that had risen on her arms. She nodded quickly, staring straight ahead and trying to maintain her composure.

“So I just?” She squeezed gently and the horse picks up her speed slightly. “Oh…ok” she said.

“Told y’she was trained” Carmy teased and she rolls her eyes.

“Mmm you’ve done a very good job, bribing this horse with peeps. The staff know you do this?” She asked. Carmy snorted a laugh

“No. But she’s healthy. Made sure. She only gets one or 2 if she doesn’t listen.” He admitted.

She shook her head with a smile. “And how’d you find this out, Carm?” She leaned into him once more.

“I…” he laughed a bit, his chest vibrating with the movement and it made her heart warm.

“I uh…spent a few days in the library here. Reading up. After she threw me off. It’s all about trust with em. So I never lied to ‘er and I’ve never done something she didn’t expect because I always try to warn her.” He said, pulling her reigns a bit tighter.

“This is like a joyride Syd cmon, I said fast not an evening stroll.” He teased.

“Fine. Mister horse master- show me what Miss Stardust can do.” She said.

With 2 kisses and a quick tap of his heel, they were off like a rocket. He held Syd steady, being sure she wouldn’t have to do most the work of holding herself center as he gripped each reign with the opposite hand, holding them taught so Star knew to keep going.

Syd laughed, the wind flicking her dark curls all around. He wished she could see her amused expression. “Holy shit this is the best!” She shouted over the loud thuds of Stars hoofbeats.

“I know right! Can you believe she can go faster?” He said, holding his knees taut around her hips to keep her from sliding.

“Okay we are not! This is fine!” She said and sat up a bit “are we going into the-” She asks as Star begins to barrel through a creek, the freezing water spraying up and around them getting them slightly wet, the freezing water splashing from their calves up to their cheeks.. “CARMY!” She screams through laughter.

He could barely catch his breath as he laughed so hard his stomach and ribs ached. “I’m sorry!! Syd! Oh god-“ he chuckled “woah girl- woah” he called to the course and she slowed down once again to a stop.

“Fuck-“ Carmen chuckled “you okay?” He asked, picking a wet leaf from her jacket and throwing it to the forest floor.

“Yeah- I’m.. I’m fine. That was really fun actually. C’mon I wanna see the spot” she said and took it upon herself to tug the reins so Star would take off again

“Shi-it!” He quickly finds his balance, “warn me!! Oh god I almost flew off!!” He told her.

“You think I’d let her throw you off?” She mimics him from earlier and he takes the chance to playfully pinch her waist

“Yes because who’s in back and who’s in front?” He wrapped his arms around her again, taking the reins from her grasp. “Your reign privileges have been revoked for this riding lesson, Ms.Adamu”

She laughed a bit “I’ll earn them back. Don’t worry” she mused.

“Mmm we need to talk about more shit before I just literally hand the reins over. Coulda spooked her and we’d be fuckin dead.” he angled the outside reigns so she’d slow down as they came to the clearing.

“Here we are” he hopped off, raising his arms to help her down.

She carefully reached out for him and he lifted her off, gently setting her down. “Holy fuck Carmy” she turned around, watching the waterfall cascade down over the rocks.

“Right! Told you. It’s a fire spot” he went over to one of the rocks he usually sat at, plopping down and taking out a cigarette. “Oh- shit- can’t have y’running off” he told Stardust and chuckled, leaving the cigarette between his lips as he walked over to her, guiding her over to the tree, and hooking her right rein around a branch before sitting back down.

“Yeah…I can’t remember the last time I went somewhere so…” she trailed off, looking at all the trees and running water.

“Green?” Carmy lit his cigarette, taking a drag. “Not packed with smog? Somewhere that doesn’t smell like shit.” He said as he exhaled.

“…yeah” she said and laughed a bit. “Yeah. Guess that’s it.” She came and sat next to him. “What did you mean about her getting scared?” She asked curiously.

“Oh- a scared horse will fucking kill you. Not on purpose, but they’re big and pure muscle, and will do anything to get away from danger. I scared the shit out of her one time, that was it. Dislocated my shoulder 8th day here. Doing that hurts like a bitch by the way.” He rolled his shoulder gently.

“How’d you manage that? God I knew you were shit at chatting up girls but she dislocated your shoulder?” She teased.

He rolled his eyes with a playful smile, taking another drag. “Yes, I was fuckin around on the trail, dunno why- but there was this branch sticking out so I grabbed it, it snapped, she fuckin reeeared dude. I flew back so hard. My back might still be bruised I’m not sure. Still hurts a little to laugh” he said.

“You better have seen a doctor” she said.

“Ohhh silly Syd.” He sighed, a puff of smoke filling the air in front of him. “We aren’t allowed to refuse treatment here. If you get hurt, and you refuse to get help, it’s considered self harm, which leads to them believing you have suicidal ideation, which leads to you being locked in the actual nuthouse. So yes. I willingly went to the doctor daily for a week. And now, I’m being checked on once a week. So yeah. Oh and therapy daily. And every day I’m given my meds and someone checks over ‘pre-existing injuries’ which that is now considered. So yeah. I’m good. I’m fuckin fine as fine can be.” He said.

“Awww poor little chef, being taken care of so well that’s so hard isn’t it?” She teased and he gives her a playful glare, but couldn’t help but crack a smile when he realized she was smiling too.

“I was being taken care of fine at home by myself but you and my sister just had to ship me off after one tiny accident” he leaned back on his hand, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“It stops becoming an accident when you didn’t care, Carm. You didn’t care. It didn’t phase you. You weren’t even…you weren’t even scared. Just because you didn’t do it on purpose doesn’t mean you did the sane thing which would have been doing everything you could to not let something like that happen.” She said, her tone suddenly serious.

He looked down at his lap, swallowing thickly. He suddenly felt all of the armor he’d spent the last 31 days chipping at, slowly start to meld back together and shell him back in at the shame the whole situation was making him feel.

“I have nightmares…you know. About it. What happened” she said quietly, and he could physically feel his heart ripping open.

The only sound between them was the bubbling stream, and the sounds of their even breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, gaze fixed on his lap knowing he would burst into tears at the admission she’d been so deeply plagued by something he’d done, if he had looked at her.

“I know” was all she said, gently resting her hand on top of his. He felt the same fireworks exploding in his chest that he only ever felt when she was around.

“Do you um…” he clears his throat and shook his head, embarrassed by the question plaguing his mind. “Never mind it’s..it’s stupid.” He removed his hand, putting his cigarette in it and resting the hand opposite of her on the rock.

“That usually means it’s not stupid. What?” She coaxed, bumping his knee with hers gently.

“It’s stupid” he said again, shrugging his shoulders.

“It can’t be stupider then asking me what UPS means” She said playfully. He rolled his eyes, smiling and looking over at her.

“And what if it is?” He questioned.

“I would be..worried they’re giving you a bad concoction of meds that’s turning your glorious chef brain in to Swiss cheese” she teased

He snorts a laugh. “I was gonna ask..if you wanted to cook..t’night. My cabin…it uh- has a kitchen? I haven’t cooked in a month. They give us food so I haven’t really bothered but…seeing you makes me miss it more, I guess” he blushed, looking back down at his lap.

“Well obviously. Not gonna let you eat whatever bullshit they’ve been giving you while I’m around.” She said and he shook his head, meeting her gaze once more with a playful smirk.

“Maybe you should check in. My therapist says it’s bad apparently to feel ‘responsible for others’ - says it’s a ‘subconscious self harming behavior’ “ he teased.

She smiled a bit. “Okay- say I do. How about, I check in now, we shoot the shit for what- eleven more days- then, you go back home- and see how stressful it is in that restaurant when one of your hands is basically missing” she plucked the cigarette bud he’d forgotten about from between his fingers before it burnt him, flicking it into the creek.

“You know that’s the first time I’ve seen you smoke- other then…me like checking on you when you were about to explode at work. But you’ve never…pulled one out and smoked it I guess” she said, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her cheek on her forearm as she looked at him.

“Oh…” he said, pulling one of his legs up and resting his arm on it. “Didn’t realize you noticed” he said, brushing some dirt off his jeans.

“I notice a lot of stupid shit about you, it’s kinda annoying honestly.” She said without thinking, her eyes widening when she realized and she looked the other way, resting her other cheek on her knee and squeezing her eyes shut.

Why would you ever say that?! She asked herself internally.

“Oh?” He said again, smiling a bit. “You do?” He questions, but that was as far as he’d push.

“Mhm” was all she responded. Carmys phone started buzzing in his pocket and he pulled it out in case it was one of the ‘base keepers’ they called them. Carmy rather call them babysitters. He knew what they were for, being sure if they were out of sight too long they were making sure they could still get ahold of them.

He sighed in relief when he saw it was just his 2:40 alarm. “Gotta go” he stood up, offering his hand to Syd. “Like- now. Or my ass is getting chewed out.”

The ride back to the cabins was mostly silent. He had no stool this time, so he had to pick up Syd essentially by the ass and gently place her on Stars back so she didn’t get spooked.

He was embarassed as fuck that the tiny action had the crotch region of his jeans tightening more then was casually explainable. Thank god no one was around to see him awkwardly hop in the way of his semi hard third leg down his left pant leg, grunting but covering it with a dry cough when she settled her ass back into him to ‘center their gravity’

Syd absolutely felt the firmness pressing into her ass. She thought it was a bit funny, but also brushed it off to the strange friction that came with riding a horse. She couldn’t allow herself to fully believe his teenage like excitement was due to her, or she’d go insane.

Carmy dropped Syd off at his cabin, giving her the key and telling her he’d put up Stardust and be back by 5, she would be blushing if it weren’t for her mahogany complexion at the domesticity of it all - er what she could imagine domesticity with Carmy would feel like.

Her panties were also soaked through from the feeling of his enormous length pressed into the curve of her ass - the entire way back - but she just chalked that up to not getting laid for a few months, and misreading his natural arousal for him being horny- she quickly pushed the thought down and just chalked it up to the horse. Because guys get hard when they ride horses…right? Right?!

Carmen arrived to therapy extremely frustrated, and extremely ready to talk. He sat down in his regular spot in the back, tapping his knee nervously and covering his crotch with his hands. Luckily, thinking about his mother was enough to make him soft nearly instantly so he had that to thank her for at least.

“Alright guys!” Julienne, the usual Friday therapist came in, sitting in her spot in the circle. “Who is up today! We are-“ she looks at her iPad “oh! Yes this is another OP class, so- no pressure but, I wanna hear what’s goin on!” She crossed her legs.

Julie was far from his favorite therapist, at Blue Lotus. But he wasn’t his least favorite. So he would still talk. He cleared his throat, raising his hand slightly.

“Carmy?! What a treat! Okay what’s up” she grabbed her little stylus pencil. He bit the inside of his lip nervously. He despised how casual she tried to make this all feel.

“Uh…so- my um…business partner, she came to see me. I guess I haven’t been…keeping touch? Enough? She just said she was worried…” he cleared his throat again, gaze fixed on his lap. “And uh…I’m startin’ t’-t’realize stuff?” He sniffled nervously, rubbing his mouth with slightly clammy, nervous hands.

“She uh..” he chuckled a bit. “She…she just…showed up. Didn’t hear shit from ‘er. She probably knew that I’d uh…I’d tell ‘er no?” He finally meets the gaze of Julie.

“Okay. You know guests are allowed right? Like- during the visiting hours, 6am to 11pm, no fraternizing between patients but-“ Carmen cuts her off

“We aren’t - no. Not fraternizing” He shook his head. “But uh…today? We were- we were sitting. This spot, near uh, Jupiter point? On the north side. And I had this- this urge T-to tell her…everything.” He shook his head, looking at the floor again.

“So…you wanted to tell her you love her?” Jesse, one of the guys he’d had lunch with a few times piped up.

“T’be honest, I don’t know.” Carmen said honestly, looking at him.

“Well what does it feel like?” Jesse asked, sitting up a bit.

“What? Like- what does what feel like?” Carmen asked curiously.

“Her. Being with her. Talking to her? Inside. Like. Your chest. Your skin?” He questioned.

“Uh…” Carmen sat back, swallowing thickly and crossing his arms over his chest. He thought for a moment.

“Hot. I get hot. All over. My chest feels tight but - but good? Like- a hug almost. And then…when she…” he blushed, looking down with a shy smile. “When she touches me” he shook his head slightly. “When she touches me it’s like um.. fireworks? Like fireworks beneath my skin.” He chuckled a bit at how cheesy it sounded.

“And you haven’t fucking nailed her?” Jessie asked plainly.

Carmen furrowed his brows, glaring at him. “No” he clenched his jaw “I haven’t.” He snips.

“Dude- you are- pussy whipped with no pussy?! You- you love her, Carmen. You love this chick. I feel like I’m looking in a weird straight mirror - the first time-“ he laughed a bit “the first time I kissed a guy- god. He was so hot. But I had no idea! I had no idea. I really thought that I was just-“ he shook his head “that I was just wanting to befriend him? Or something? But like- I wanted to fuck him. And when I did kiss him? Something unlocked in my brain dude. It was like…like a whole new world. I felt like I knew - I knew what love could feel like? Just ‘cause of that one kiss “ he shrugged.

Carmen looked at him, arms crossed, trying to absorb everything he was saying even though every fiber of his former self was screaming to take it with nothing more than a grain of salt.

“Kiss her dude. Kiss her.” Jesse said and sat back in his chair.

“Well. Although, consensual sexual instances are against the code of conduct to discuss - I am very proud to see you two coming out of your shells. Has anyone else felt… confused in their romantic endeavors and would like to share?” Julie asked.

Carmen crossed his arms tighter, looking down at his lap. This was quite unusual for him, he was one of the patients to only add what he had to to be credited during inpatient, and during outpatient - only spoke when he really and honestly had to.

“Uh-“ the super tall girl, Shayna sits up. Carmen was never really sure why she was here. She looked…perfect by all means. Perfect skin, perfect nails, pretty face, long blonde hair, a perfect body by girl standards. Or at least what Carmen had understood of them.

“Not really the same.. but before I came out? I like…I would uh buy…girl clothes. That I liked. For my girlfriends at the time…” she blushed “and um.. I realized after a while that I liked them. And I wasn’t just..wanting to see my girlfriend in them. And like- it’s not the exact same, but when he said… about how Jesse realized he wanted the guy. That’s how I felt when I finally tried the clothes on” she shrugged.

Carmen was…aghast. He just simply stared at her. He’d never met- or thought- he’d ever met a trans person before today. But…Shayna?

Well- he was wrong because he had met her, they actually knew each other fairly well as far as patients go, she joined the program when he did. When they first met, she’d made a joke about how they were the tallest girl and shortest guy in the class, so that meant they were bound to be friends, since opposites attract - and that earned a chuckle out of him before his meds had even fully evened out.

“I love the cis-and-confused look- it’s cute” she said and laughed a bit. Carmen blushed, smiling a bit.

“Not confused- well, maybe. Maybe a little. Y’Just so…dainty? I dunno..” he shrugged.

“In case you haven’t noticed- mr.little man syndrome- you’re only one out with the cows doing the hay on time in the morning. Ninty percent of the group is your version of dainty ” Jesse teased.

“Jesse” Julie gives him the look. “I’d assume that means- the rest of you that aren’t out helping with the bales- are scraping out the cow pens? Since Carmen is doing all the hard work according to you.”

“I’m not girl- fuck no! The second I got out of inpatient house arrest? I walked my happy ass down to Walmart and bought me some blackout curtains. I recommend those to all of you! Oh my god and some ear plugs!! The stupid fucking roosters! Worst 15 days of my lifeee! I’m never coming back here peace and love to you all though. Truly. Can’t stand this cow shit stank ass place.” Shayna said dramatically, causing Carmen to chuckle a bit.

He had loved her boldness since they’d met. If Shayna didn’t want to do something- she wasn’t doing it. He learned that the day the staff tried to force her on anti-depressants. One of the main therapists got a Wellbutrin straight to the eye, they never attempted that battle the same way again.

“We know Shayna you aren’t shoveling scat, princesses don’t do that” Jesse mocked her valley girl tone.

“Okay! Okay. Alriiiight! Back on track- done with the bickering!” Julie said. “Now that open call is over let’s move on to breakthroughs. This issss-“ she looks at her iPad “ah- yes! D group. So. That makes it-“ he checks her watch “ah- right. 11 days! How are your light tunnel projects going?” She questioned.

Carmen’s chest tightened, but not in the Syd is smiling or he made Syd laugh way- in the - I haven't done something I was meant to do way.

The Light Tunnel project wasn’t hard. It was simply one thing you have done that you had wanted to do when you came into the program. And Carmy knew what his answer was,

Admit how he felt to Sydney.

Or, as his Therapist- Mandy told him ‘become more truthful with yourself and those you know about how you feel’ because “counting on someone to like him back would put him at square one” he had pretended to understand, but knew that he had to tell her and soon - or he was going to really go insane.

“ my light tunnel was to talk to my asshole father- but lucky for me I just caught wind the motherfucker finally died thank god. So by default I win and don’t have to be here anymore cause his abandonment was what fucked me up anyhow“ Shayna said jokingly, causing Carm to snort a laugh. He knew she was only joking about the leaving early part, not the father part. Her father was an even bigger piece of shit then Carmen’s was, he had come to learn.

“Mmm that isn’t how it works we know that Shayna. We’ll talk more about this in one to one “ Julie told her and Shayna crossed her long legs, looking out the window.

The last 20 minutes of the session Carmen sat silently, looking out the opposite window to Shayna, watching the horses running around in the field before they got called in for dinner and just spacing out, thinking about what he may say to Syd.

“Yo - Carm space cadet” Shayna said before kicking his boot he jumped a bit, looking up at them both and had realized the room since had cleared and Julie was preparing for her next session.

“Shit.” He said “how long have I been like…like that?” He asked, his cheeks feeling hot.

“It’s the OCD meds. They get you stuck in a happy thought loop sometimes. Are you just gonna sit here? You wanna do another hour of this with sniveling group a? They got here three days ago.” Jesse said. Carm shook his head, getting up.

“No- no sorry” he said starting with them outside. Shayna laughed a bit

“You were thinking of screwing that business partner aren’t you. “ she said, causing Carmys cheeks to go pinker.

“Shayna shut up!” Jesse scolded, pushing her shoulder lightly.

“Awwww carmyyy are your feelings hurt little buddy? Do you need a hug? Jesus men are such pussys” she pushed open the doors of the therapy cabin for them.

“Let me see pictures of this hot chick. If you don’t fuck her I will and I bet I’d do a better job” Shayna teased as they started heading back towards the cabins.

Carmen couldn’t even process what she said as he felt his breath get caught in his chest, he saw her. She was sitting on the porch of his cabin, criss-cross in one of the rocking chairs as she writes in her notebook. He couldn’t help but stop and stare at the way the setting sun hit her bronze skin, her curls casting intricate patterned shadows on the wood. He felt his heart pick up, his chest squeezing in that way, the way that only happened when he saw her.

Shayna and Jesse stopped after a few moments when they realized Carm had gotten stuck behind. They both follow his gaze carefully to see what he was so fixed on, like a trance.

“Holy fuuuck!!! Holy fuck how did I get this lucky!! She’s here? She’s here still?!” Shana asked excitedly, “oh my god- you’re getting laid- tonight” she excitedly skips up to the cabin and Syd looks up, locking eyes with her before seeing Carmen just a few paces behind. “I’m Shayna! Do you and Carm wanna hang out with us tonight?”

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡♡♡

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